I am currently riding in an EasyJet plane headed to Milan. My black backpack is resting in the overhead compartment above my head, thick and full to the brim with clothes intended to accommodate 70-degree temperatures and freezing temperatures. My trip is only beginning, and yet, somehow, I feel at peace.
Perhaps this is false confidence. I am certainly not logistically and directionally talented, so travel doesn’t come extraordinarily easy to me. I am not versed in multiple languages. I do not have an unlimited budget.
And yet, because of this I tried to plan as extensively as I could. I have a thick packet full of papers—tickets, directions, hostel reservations, ideas of places to go, eat, ect. sitting in the pouch in front of me. This was fairly nightmarish to put together. I spent hours on the computer, buying and researching and writing instructions and reading through Let’s Go Europe as if it were the night before a final exam and that snarky guide was my lifesaver of a textbook. My ultimate hope is that this planning will confirm my belief that the further you plan in advance, the more things you buy early, the more places you know you’re going, then the easier and less stressful the work of traveling will become. We will see. Even my attempts at being organized have caused me to purchase two different nonrefundable tickets twice without even realizing it. So it goes.
I need this to be somewhat easier because it feels (or at least it felt during those god-awful planning hours) that I have bitten more than I can chew. Traveling to five vastly different European countries over eleven days, on my own? Seriously?
This is certainly ambitious. I have never traveled by myself before (oh, you know what I mean. Car trips and one-way San Antonio to New York trips don’t count), and this is a helluva way to start. I feel greatly empowered yet simultaneously overwhelmed by the notion of traveling hundreds of miles and through several countries without another pair of eyes to deal with the logistics. “The lone traveler” is both an literary cliché and an existential reality. For while the challenges I face will be of an undeniably upper-middle class nature, I feel that this sort of trip can undeniably bare the thematic heft of a bildungsroman regardless. No, I’m not traveling in the wilderness for days before returning to my tribe. But I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to suggest that I’m embarking on the globalized, pluralistic 21st century version of a similar quest, what Victor Turner would call a “liminal experience,” an undetermined period of time when I can contemplate the elements of the world around me as they’re twisted and pulled into contortions that are both strikingly beautiful and frighteningly grotesque.
I will witness the heart of modern, urbanized Italy in Milan and its many museums. I will bask in the Islamic architecture, snow-tipped peaks, and warm sun of Southern Spain in Granada. I will experience the classic heart of London and have a pint in the Oxford pub where CS Lewis and JRR Tolkien regularly met. I will finish with an all-out feast of chocolate, waffles, pommes frites and wonderful beer in Brussels; a several-hour dip into Amsterdam will prelude my flight back into Prague.
Like all great, lasting life events, pondering this one gives me a peculiar mix of anxiety and excitement. And after all, there is no need to overstate the difficulties because I won’t be completely alone; I will be (quite by chance, actually) spending the day in Milan with some NYU friends. I will see a lifelong friend in Granada and another fine friend in London. And above all else, I somehow know that the God of the Universe is with me, inside me, gently turning me toward Himself and my True Self: the person that I, in the heart of my being, implicitly long to become.
I can’t promise that I’ll write regularly during this trip. If I don’t update you or update Instagram, please don’t think that something awful has happened to me. But if you check this blog, maybe you’ll see a couple updates here and there. Who knows. The plane is about to land in Milan now.
It’s an adventure.