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The Ugly Truth About Travel
Travel isn’t always about stunning vistas, beautiful waterfalls, and ancient sites. The truth about travel is that it is equal amounts of adventure and joy as it can be tiring and heartbreaking.
Sometimes—just like life back home—travel can be rough.
And I’m not just talking about missing a flight, or having your phone pickpocketed from you (which coincidentally is related to the story I’m sharing today), I’m talking about all the baggage that you carry with you besides what’s in your suitcase.
The Stories People Don't Often Share
The truth about travel is that there are always ups and downs.
There are days when you just can’t shake a crappy mood, or times you just don’t want to get out of bed—these happen when we travel sometimes too.
I know sometimes we read about funny travel mishaps, like my Delhi belly incident, or my dog bite issue from Nepal, but rarely do we publicize moments where we’ve struggled mentally.
The reality is that whatever anxieties, pains, worries, etc. we have within us don’t magically disappear once we hop on a flight (no matter how many funny reels on Instagram may tell you otherwise).
My Honest Truth About Travel
My problems with relationships and my worries about my future may have subsided at times while abroad, but they were always there—just like home.
Today I’ve decided to be extra vulnerable, so I might as well give you the honest truth about travel, and give you examples of when traveling felt very different from the glamour we often scroll through.
When I left for Sri Lanka in 2018, I was heartbroken by a guy in Toronto who ghosted me. Some days when I walked down the beautiful sandy beaches—I still thought about him.
While working abroad in Kurdistan, my step-brother passed away unexpectedly, and to this day I still struggle with the guilt of missing the funeral.
Even though I never regret going away and treasure the wonderful memories I have from my travels, I don’t want to hide the occasional painful truth about travel.
My Truth About Travel from Berlin
As promised, I’m going to share my excerpt for today which briefly catalogs the whirlwind of emotions.
The reality behind my time in Berlin is that I was struggling with meeting up with a friend of mine (who was a bit more than a friend if you catch my drift), and my seesawing emotions about said situation.
A classic girl’s problem if you will…
I should be arriving tomorrow! Evan messages me after I’ve been in Berlin for a week.
A whole week I’ve been waiting when I could have gone and done other things. And now my knowledge is that he should be arriving tomorrow? For all I know, it could be another week trying to hitchhike here.
I reply telling him that’s great, holding back the anger that sends me haywire.
A handsome guy staying in the hostel invites me for a few drinks with his friends. I say yes.
When tequila arrives on the table, I agree to another five rounds.
Next thing I know, the summer heat through the window wakes me with a wave of nausea. The clock on the wall reads 10 a.m. I need to check out in thirty minutes.
I have a vicious hangover and a lingering taste of tequila in my mouth. Lord. Where the hell is my phone?
I peel off the contact lenses I neglected to remove the night before, rinse off mascara remnants, and take a two-minute shower.
My belongings are lumped into my backpack, making it appear like I’m traveling with grapefruits instead of clothes. I strap my backpack on and march out of the room.
I have enough to sort out today, especially now that I’ve lost my phone.
In my phone’s absence, I have foggy memories of the handsome guy who invited me for drinks pressed up against me in a bathroom.
I suppose the silver lining is whatever confidence I lack in dealing with men can be made up for with tequila.
Although more tequila isn’t a reasonable solution to my anxiety about seeing Evan tonight. The guilt of locking lips with a stranger tastes like I’ve topped off the hot raksi in my gut with curdled milk.
It turns out that in Germany, you need a passport as an ID to purchase a SIM card. Great timing! Mine is with the embassy.
Thank God I have my laptop to search for a place to stay tonight, which I had promised Evan I’d book the night before. Last-minute hostel bookings in July here are pricey.
I opt for a room in a shared apartment via Airbnb that’s available for tonight. I write down the directions to the Airbnb on paper before heading out. The heat exacerbates my irritation and disappointment in myself.
Did I really have to get drunk, hook up with some random guy, and lose my phone? This isn’t what I had in mind when I imagined seeing Evan again.
To be continued...
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