Epilogue: Around the World in 180 Days
This is what you’re supposed to do, right? Write a sentimental essay reflecting on your journey? I’ve been home for three days now and start work tomorrow. Slipping back into “real life” wasn’t as rough as I imagined. I was actually looking forward to getting back into a routine near the end of my trip. I heard somewhere that “a rolling stone gathers no moss”, and after six months of rolling, I grew more and more anxious to gather some moss of my own and build out my life back home.
It feels a bit surreal sleeping in my own room, sorting through a mountain of mail reminding me of my responsibilities, and pulling clothes out of a dresser instead of a backpack. The silence at night is almost deafening. My ears ring as they hear nothing for the first time in months. Without trains, planes, or masses of scooters. Without construction, roommates, or parties in the background. Being back around family feels the most natural, like I had never left, and knowing I don’t need to pick up and leave in a few days time is more comforting than I imagined it would be. I left with the secret motivation of finding another country I could see myself living in if shit kept hitting the fan out here. But the second I saw the verdant hills set next to the gentle blue of the bay, I couldn’t help but think “there’s no place like home.”
I’m thankful to the hundreds of humans I’ve shared words and experiences with during my trip, and especially so to those I now have the privilege of calling my friends. When you travel alone, you quickly realize you’re never really alone. The places you visit become the backdrop for budding friendships or romances. The conversations you create are made all the more meaningful by the sheer weight of coincidence that conspired to put you in the same room with someone else from the other side of the planet (and the quiet understanding that you may never see them again). I’ve experienced so many flavors of love and heartbreak that I’m still trying to put words to. I’ve learned so much from others and about myself by extension. To everyone who was kind enough, maybe even excited, to spend time with me: thank you a hundred times. I hope I helped make your trip as memorable as you made mine.
I’m gonna go maximum kitsch here and thank myself for making it happen. I’ve dreamed of going on a journey like this since high school and I’m proud of myself for making it back in one piece. Big shout out to my body and physical health for allowing me to explore hundreds of miles, climb mountains, practice yoga, catch trains, and swim in the ocean. For not punishing me despite how badly I punished it on several occasions. I don’t know if I’ll be able to pull off a trip this hedonistic in five years.
Lastly, thank YOU! Yes you, reading this! For everyone that’s followed along as I hopped around the world, reading my thoughts and experiences along the way, who commented and wrote me about them: I deeply appreciate your interest and encouragement. I had a love/hate relationship with Current Location at times, but your feedback made every hour spent typing and uploading pictures worthwhile. I’m proud that I saw this blog all the way through, and I hope my stories were as fun for you to read as they were to write (I know some were a bit dry!).
18 countries. 55 cities. And just like that, the world’s most expensive geography lesson comes to an end. What else is there to say? Have I changed? I feel different. I know myself better and I’ve gained a bit more clarity on what I want from my brief existence on this floating space rock. Now it’s just a matter of actualizing it. I’m equal parts curious and excited to see how the lessons learned and connections made on the road will continue to shape my life. This experience definitely won’t be the last of my travels (I may or may not have already started planning my next two trips), but I’m getting ahead of myself. Plus I’m pretty broke at the moment.
For now…It’s good to be back.
It’s good to be back…for now.
_George
