Why Travel?

A road through Albania

Like many young people going to university, I had an idea of how my life would go: I'd graduate, get an entry-level job, gradually increase my income with each passing year, get married at some point, have some kids, and live a stable, if uneventful life with two weeks of vacation a year. Looking back, it's scary to think that could have happened if the economy hadn't crashed right before I graduated. Fresh out of school, the only job I could get was working as a barista. I couldn't afford to move out of my parents' house, but as a result, I didn't have many expenses. 

A modest amount of money began to accumulate, and one day it occurred to me that I was in the position to do something a little bit crazy. I'd gone backpacking in Europe for two months after graduation in 2009 with my then-boyfriend, and I'd always assumed that that was my one chance to see all the big sights and any other travel I did would be during my allotted two weeks vacation time. But I didn't have a job that paid a living wage, much less one that allowed vacation time, but still, I had my savings. What if I stopped saying "someday" and said "today"?

Sveti Stefan, Montenegro

Thus began my fervent planning. The furthest east I'd gotten in Europe was Prague, but I was intrigued by places like Poland and Montenegro, which I'd heard were both beautiful and cheap. My itinerary started with only a few destinations in mind, but the more I researched, the more it expanded, until I had a trip that spanned from Finland to Albania. Early on, I realized if I wanted to go, I'd be going it alone. My friends all had obligations; none of them could pack up and leave for several months. That was fine with me. I was very attached to the idea of traveling alone. I'd never done it before, and even a year earlier I would have been horrified by the prospect, but I was now enamored with the adventure and freedom of it.

My friends and family didn't take it well. Strangers told me what an incredibly stupid and dangerous decision it was to travel alone as a young woman (if that sounds preposterous, keep in mind I was a barista, so I chatted with many strangers every day). Hadn't I seen Taken or Hostel? My mom tried to convince some of my friends to go with me, and she eventually settled on coming to meet me herself for the time I would be in Albania, the country she considered the most dangerous. Not everyone was trying their best to scare me into staying home: one of my regular customers told me about her own solo trip to Vietnam after the war, and, of course, I'd read plenty of stories and blogs online that didn't end in kidnappings.

I wasn't scared for my safety. I didn't have a problem being alone in Seattle, so why should being alone in Krakow scare me? I was, however, nervous that I wouldn't enjoy traveling solo and that I wouldn't be able to make friends, since I've always been quiet and awkward. My first stop alone was Budapest, and it took approximately a day for my concerns to abate. 

Wawel Hill, Krakow, Poland

I ended up spending five months abroad in 2011, most of it alone, and the decision to travel was one of the best I've ever made. Yes, I got lost. Yes, I cried out of frustration. Yes, I got caught in downpours while lost and crying in frustration. But I believe I'm a better person for the confidence, perspective, and incredible experiences I gained, and even though I still feel young and immature, I've come a long way from the scared, narrow-minded girl I was when I graduated from university. I couldn't be happier that my life didn't go as planned.