On Traveling Alone
When I left my friend in Budapest and ventured off alone to Edinburgh, I was…well, terrified. That’s the truth.
I tried to play it cool by telling people, “It’ll be a great experience! Can’t wait!” But I could wait. I was worried I’d be lonely, bored, and feel even more useless. I was worried I wouldn’t get along with my Airbnb flatmates. Regardless of these worries, though, I instinctively knew it was the right decision. And it was.
My soul is so pleasantly full from the people I’ve met. Traveling alone and making these connections has honestly left me in a speechless awe. I feel the way you feel after sharing a hearty, home-cooked meal with the people you love. I feel blessed—immensely, indescribably blessed—and humbled by what these people have taught me. So much so, that I don’t even know where to begin…
Solo in Scotland
I spent nearly 3 weeks in Edinburgh, staying in the flat of a native-Scotland musician. When I arrived, he was prepping to release his debut solo album. Not only did he invite me to listen to his unreleased, brilliant songs, but he brought me along to the lively gigs where he drummed.
Witnessing the amount of work and countless hours that go into releasing an album like that was just…inspiring. I watched his legs frantically bounce as he phoned sound techs and lighting gurus. I watched as he crafted his own press release and sought after Scottish and Brazilian publications. I literally watched art in motion, unfolding before my very eyes.
He welcomed me into his world, and through that opened door, I met even more amazing people. I became friends with a woman who works at a restaurant to support her own music career. When she performs live, she transforms into an absolute force of nature. Her sound is so unique, so beautifully her. Honestly, it was an honor to witness.
And it wasn’t solely musicians; I also became close with my Danish flatmate, who’s a student partaking in an exchange program with Edinburgh University. My most memorable time with her was spent walking around the city, talking for hours about our lives. The most fascinating part about meeting people from other lands is the similarities you’ll discover when it comes to life and love.
At one point, she asked me, “Do you ever feel like you’re doing it all wrong?” That summed up my travel insecurities perfectly. I had no idea what the “right” way to travel was, but I’d convinced myself there was one out there—and that I was far from it.
Solo…with Anxiety
Amidst the incredible people I met, one of the most surprisingly useful experiences I endured was my unrelenting anxiety. Perhaps it was instigated by a sense of purposelessness, I’m not sure; but I found myself perpetually abused by my own antagonizing thoughts. It took a great deal of gumption just to leave my bed and face other people each day.
One afternoon, while at a social event, I was so tormented by it that I had to hide in the bathroom (twice) and then take a long walk around the block. I practiced breathing exercises and recited Hail Marys like I was hanging off the edge of a cliff.
But then, moments later, I’d survived. I was able to carry on fluid conversations and hear stories from the people around me. That part of Scotland was a necessary hell; another step in conquering my greatest fears. I desperately longed to be in the presence of people who knew and loved me, but being without them forced me to learn how to forge on anyway.
Solo, Together
There were nights I went to bed after 3a.m., having spent the evening at a gig or relaxing with my flatmates, listening to African albums on vinyl. It was sublime. Once, I even stayed up ‘til 2a.m. making oils and pickled veggies with my host. These are the memories I’ll cherish.
By pushing past the confines of my mind, I also learned to better recognize when I really do need time to myself. I took hours-long walks alone. I hiked hills alone. I rocked out to gigs alone. I grabbed burgers alone. Everything about the human experience is a delicate balance. However, it’s important to remember that we do need each other, even while traveling alone. Especially while traveling alone.
When my dad talks about his time section-hiking the Appalachian Trail, he describes his encounters with other hikers as “an exchange of spirits.” That’s been the greatest part of this trip thus far. To all the people who’ve shared a part of their lives with me: thank you. You’re amazing.
I had a moment in Edinburgh while hiking down a slippery, steep hill where I said to myself aloud (a bit crazed): “Oye! I’m spending more time avoiding death than I am appreciating my surroundings…”
And then I laughed, because yeah, that’s the way it goes.
