When I applied for this fellowship, I knew there was a high likelihood of my taking the trip solo, but I was hoping that it would work out that perhaps a friend or my brother Peter (and frequent travel partner) would be able to join me for at least part of the journey. However, the timing just seemed to be all wrong. My friend Robyn, who was my roommate in college and spent a year in Edinburgh, loved the idea of meeting up with me in Scotland, but it was just a little too rushed (I didn't find out I'd won the fellowship until the latter half of March and had to start planning right away) and the airfare a little too expensive for her. My friend Lise would have jumped on the trip in a hot second if she hadn't just spent her travel budget on a ticket to go to France for her spring break a couple weeks before I found out I was a finalist. And my brother was (and still is) in the process of selling his house and buying a new one, so that was an obvious no-go even though he also would have wanted to join me had the circumstances been different.
When I got to my third strike, I started to get the sense, however terrifying and unwanted, that perhaps I was meant to take this trip alone. It all comes back to that whole notion of doing things that scare me as a way of growing. Travel abroad if I'm going with someone else doesn't scare me anymore. Neither does traveling by myself for a short period of time in an English-speaking location, something I've done numerous times since my early 20s. Traveling abroad for a long(ish) period of time by myself in countries (Denmark and France) where the primary language isn't English, on the other hand, gives me minor panic attacks.
What am I anxious about? Navigation is a big one. When there are two of you, it's just that much easier to spot signs, find the right train, and generally figure things out. It also makes it a lot easier to go to the bathroom. The other big thing I fear is getting lonely and turn into this sad, sad Eric Carmen song:
Granted, I am someone who requires a fairly hefty amount of alone time to feel happy and sane. But I also need and enjoy some interactions with other people. This need is easy to fulfill when I'm home because A) my job entails interacting with 200 or more people a day, and B) I have many wonderful friends and neighbors that I spend time with on a pretty regular basis. To have interactions with people while I'm traveling, however, I'll need to talk to strangers. This is very hard for someone who is shy. I'm not shy with people I know well--I can get as chatty as any extrovert--but if I don't know you well and/or there is a group of people larger than two or three, I have an overwhelming urge to flee. Or sit in the corner reading a book. It's about as easy to imagine myself becoming an astronaut leading a space expedition as it is to imagine myself walking into a pub in Scotland, sitting at the bar, and striking up a conversation with whoever's there.
But if I can peel away the layers of fear and anxiety, what I truly desire deep down is to be open to encountering other people on my travels--to smile at someone even if they don't smile back, to strike up a conversation even if my knees are knocking and I start out stuttering, to be willing to engage with those around me and hear their stories and get a glimpse of who they are. Because I know that travel isn't just about locations and landmarks and museums--it's about people. And while I will be a few thousand miles outside my comfort zone, I'm hoping that being alone on this trip will turn into the best part of it because of all the interesting people I'll meet. If I can just force myself to speak instead of running away, that is.
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