Yesterday I embarked on my biggest adventure yet; for two months I’ll be travelling solo around Australia and New Zealand, something I’ve never done before and, undoubtedly, to my mum’s horror. Having booked the flights months ago, on a bit of a whim if I’m honest, I’ve had a tumultuous relationship with this trip already. Largely, it has caused me immense joy and excitement, in a time of my life that had gotten quite dark, but it has also filled me with anxiety and self-doubt as I questioned my ability to pull it off on my own.
This trip is huge to me for so many reasons. For a girl who’s never ventured out of Europe, travelling 20 hours alone to countries completely unknown (to myself), with no one waiting for me at the other end, is a daunting prospect to say the least, and one I know many bigger and ‘braver’ people couldn’t face. Maybe I was slightly naive when I booked it, or just riding high on a very optimistic wave, or maybe I really do have it in me to make this the best time of my life. I’ve always been an independent person, to a fault even, so it hasn’t surprised me that I’ve wandered off on my own. I won’t lie though, it wasn’t my first choice, doing it solo; if a friend had decided to come and share this experience with me I’d have been over the moon. But this year in particular I’ve hit a turning point - why put on hold the things I want to do most, because others aren’t ready? To risk sounding like a raging teen, it’s my life and I have to be the one behind the reins, choosing the paths and creating the memories for myself. The timing worked for me, I was desperate for a trip like nothing I had done before, so I made it happen.
I’m writing this whilst sat on my flight to Cairns, the first stop on my extensive itinerary. My previous flight from London Heathrow to Singapore was roughly 13 hours, and wow did my bum feel it. Or not feel it, as the case was by the time we touched down. The longest flight I’ve been on until now was 5 hours I believe, so this is like a sprinter taking on a marathon; a marathon of sitting, watching films, trying not to encroach on the space of your neighbours, and the hardest part of all - attempting some shut eye. Many of you reading this will be scoffing at how obvious these ‘revelations’ are, having been on long haul flights before, but this is unchartered territory for me, and I truly didn’t expect it to drag for such a long time.
I’m an impatient person when it comes to travelling. I love being in A and being in B, but getting to and from is nothing more than a stressful pain in the neck. It’s just a means to an end, the boring bit before the fun begins. This is a cynical way of looking at travel, I know, but sue me! We all know it’s true. Perhaps one day I’ll be able to appreciate it as part of the whole exciting package, but today is not that day. It definitely didn’t help that my journey began with me locking myself out of my backpack after getting through security, and having to get it cut open by a very official-looking man at border control. I can look back and find it funny, a good story and silly blunder at least, but not the best way to kick off your very first voyage by yourself.
Anyway, sorry if this entry has been a case of word vomit, but I have been sat in silence for around 17 hours now, so I think I just want to speak to someone, anyone, who’ll listen. Fingers crossed I’ll have had some proper conversation and amazing adventures by my next post.
Stay tuned, next stop: Cairns.