Solo-Traveling through Self-Exploration

This whole trip started with one question: Do I find a job immediately after graduation? Or do I travel? (Maybe that's two questions, but you get the hint).

I remember where I was when this became a consuming thought that pretty much took over my entire existence. I was sitting at my desk, looking at the email that sat in my inbox, opened-yet-placed in the "unread" section of my webpage.

Oh god was a pretty consistent phrase that came up, and anxiety filled my mind whenever I pressed on the email. In this message was a job opportunity in Los Angeles, where I would be working for a financial company as a Marketing Intern (but also learning the ins-and-outs of a new financial assistant). It was perfect. It was amazing. It was something I've been working towards for the past 4 years. Yet, something in me said I couldn't take the offer.

I realized it wasn't the right choice when someone would ask me if I had any plans for after graduation, and I couldn't even mention this position. If it was right for me, I would've been jumping for joy, buzzing everytime I got to answer such a question. Instead, I felt guilty. I mean, I knew I wanted to travel, but did that really overpower a career-changing situation?

And... I guess it did.

Once I officially rejected the job, I immediately planned out my journey. It would consist of 7 weeks where I traveled between England, Scotland, France, Italy, and Norway. Was I scared? No. Didn't seem real enough to be scared yet, and it was still months away.

Little did I know, I was scared as hell!

A week before my trip I got probably the worst dread I've ever felt. Saying bye to your closest friends and family really makes you take a step back and think: "What if this is the last time I ever see them?" Sounds psychotic to say outloud (out-typing?) but I genuinely fell into a minor depression where I was so sure that I would die on this trip, it wasn't even funny. I would cry after saying bye to each person, hoping that the last words I said to them were words of love. Would I still text them? Duh. But my mind was on 100x speed and there was no rationalization that could help me process this nervous energy.

Then, the day arrived.

On May 28th, 2024, I left for my 10 hour flight to Scotland.

I packed one backpack, one suitcase, and a whole lot of panic.

SCOTLAND

Scotland was, how do I say this, sick as hell.

I was lucky to be staying with my friend Cara, who joined me on the journey from San Francisco to Gourock. She lives there with her father Stu, and I got to spend the next two weeks with them!

Since Scotland was at the beginning on the trip, I was jet lagged, and since my memory becomes sucky when things are long-term, I don't remember all of the details. I remember long evenings of getting dressed up and hitting the local bars with Cara's Gran, traveling over the River Clyde after a drive to the highlands, traveling to Glasgow, Edinburgh, Dundee, and my all-time favorite, Greenock (Scotland joke). I remember watching "Gavin & Stacy," and cringing at James Corden popping up on the television. I also remember sleeping in until 11 a.m. and sleeping at 2 a.m. and meeting a bunch of Cara's friends, who were all amazing.

Two weeks go fast when you're sleeping a majority of the time, but unfortunately time slipped away like sand in an hourglass. It was like one day I woke up on my third day, and next thing you know I'm packing to take the train to England.

ENGLAND (and Ireland?)

England! Oh goodness I just love this country so much.

First, I got to visit my best friend Rachel (Hi Rachie, I know you're reading this), who I hadn't seen in about a year at that point. I was so excited to see her (and excited to go to an Marks & Spencer) that I cried when I got off the train and made eye contact with the curly-headed gal.

We got dropped off at Rachel's brother's house that he shared with his girlfriend, which was a cute place in Manchester, where we watched Sabrina Carpenters new music video and chatted over wine. We spent the next day walking around Manchester and saw the play 2:22: A Ghost Story which absolutely blew my mind! The next couple hours or so after the show ended, we read Reddit theories about the play and drank some crazy looking drinks.

Rachel is such a planner, and she surprised me with a trip to IRELAND! What in the world! I knew I sent her my passport, but I didn't think it would be anything insane like Ireland. We took a (insanely bumpy and terrifying) plane to Dublin, and our next four days were used to explore both Dublin and the West of Ireland.

Dublin was super cool, but not what Rachel and I had really expected. She had been there before, but we both agree that Dublin didn't feel very... Irish? Dublin is a smaller city, but we did have a lot of fun finding Trinity College which is in the Normal People series, a small museum which spoke about the history of Dublin, and meeting lots of old and new friends. After a couple days of Dublin, Rachel's dad picked us up with her Mom, and we drove three hours west to Kilkee.

Can I say something crazy? Kilkee was the most beautiful place I'd ever seen in my entire life. It was like New England and Ireland had a little baby, with hints of Oregon in it. Maybe it was the Airbnb we were staying at, but I can officially say I was obsessed. The next day we drove to Galway, where I bumped into my San Francisco pal, Sydney! Hi Syd, if you're reading this. What a crazy coincidence that my good friend and former co-worker Sydney would be on the exact same street, across the world at the same time as me?! Such a special moment, I was actually in shock.

Me, Rachel, and her family, headed back to the Airbnb and painted while watching Gogglebox, a UK show where you watch people react to media clips. It's one of my favorite shows, and one of the reasons I bought BritBox back in San Francisco.

After lots of long walks and drives in Ireland, Rachel brought me to her home in Norwich. There, we went on a tour of the underground roads that used to be the original town, we went to a yoga class on International Yoga Day and sketched drawings in the park, and of course, got drinks and went book shopping. We also went to visit Cam and Kim in Bury St. Edmunds, where we walked around Abbey Gardens and hit up local thrift stores.

With two weeks of crazy days in Ireland and England, it was now time to head to France! I would be returning back to England the last couple of days on my trip, so although I did not want to say goodbye, I was ready to take on the next leg of my journey, and note it all down for my debrief with Rachel.

FRANCE

France is when my little mind started to go downhill.

While I was staying with my friend Laura, and her very accommodating, welcoming family, I was starting to have a bit of a spiral. I had officially been gone for a month, it was the first country on this trip where I didn't speak the native language, it was a hot outside, and I felt, admittedly, overwhelmed. I had days to myself around Paris where I was too scared to go into a grocery store, or too nervous to ask for the gluten-free options. Though it was tough, I know that these moments led to the growth that I feel now.

Laura planned a train ride down to the South of France, where we stayed in a cute Airbnb in Nice, France. We could see the town and sea from where we were, and it was absolutely gorgeous. The next three days we spent going to the beach and reading (My book at the time was The Heart of a Woman by Maya Angelou), walking around to shops and getting dinner along the water. We also took a short train trip to Monte Carlo, which is often recognized for their large (and definitely expensive) casino. No, we did not play, but we did go inside and take lots of videos.

Once back in Paris, Laura took me to the Louvre Museum, where I saw our girl Ms. Mona Lisa looking wonderful as ever (she's smaller than you think). There was also a new exhibition added on to the Museum called "Follow Your Dreams" or something along those lines, where it was an immersive exhibit with the goal of motivating people to gain confidence in chasing their dreams and not letting fear get in the way. They did a great job, but I will be honest I was too caught up with going in the ball pit to focus on the storyline.

Although I was having a great time, my stress was still present. I felt anxious, worried about the next 3 weeks I had away from home. I remember calling my mom and telling her about how much I missed home. It wasn't that I wasn't happy to be there, and I was so grateful to be in France in the first place, but its hard having your life in a single suitcase. It's hard not having your cat around the corner, or being able to lay in your bed. But with this anxiety came anger towards myself. I mean, how could I be so distraught in FRANCE? I felt upset with myself because I was complaining about being on vacation outside of the country, where millions of people dream of going. It was like a cycle. I was sad about being away, then I was mad at myself for feeling that way. Laura and her family had offered me a place to stay, food on my plate, and a close friendship that I will cherish forever, so how can I be in such a rut?

Italy came around, and I was nervous. Would I keep the same feelings from France? Did I ruin my own trip?

I got on the 8 hour long train ride from Paris to Milan, and I hoped I could get out of this mindset.

ITALY

I got to Milan on the 30th of June, where I was staying in a shared Airbnb that had the cutest terrace I'd ever seen. Of course, going up four flights of stairs with a jam-packed suitcase was not ideal, but I had chosen it so who am I to complain. Was I able to easily enter the Airbnb? Of course not, because it was midnight and I chose to not read the simple directions that said slide the door, don't push. So was I on the phone with my mother on the verge of tears because I was struggling? Duh! Isn't that what moms are for?

One hang up on my mother and one phone call to the Airbnb host later, I was in and grateful to lie down. I had half of the next day to myself, since my friend Benna was taking exams at her school, so I chose to sleep in and have a reset in the morning. Oh, did I mention I got my third ear piercings in France, so it hurt to lie down? Yeah, not the best move on my part but no regrets.

After waking up, I brought out my journal to the terrace, and sat in the metal chair. I decided that if I was going to get my shit together, I was going to have a proper routine. The next hour was filled with a slight meditation (I say slight cause I was antsy and kept moving), a journal entry of anger, and a podcast about "feeling frustrated on vacation" (fitting, right?). I walked to the grocery store and picked up some essentials like coffee, eggs, and I can't remember what else but I'm pretty sure chocolate was involved.

It did feel good to have a structured morning. I'm such a routine person, that even as I sit here writing this, while insanely unemployed, I get up at the same time, go on a run at the same time, apply to jobs at the same time, and follow my mental timeline. What I'm trying to say is that this routine and some time out in Milan really got me back on track mentally and emotionally.

After my morning, I went out to discover Milan on foot. I walked around Castello Sforzesco, Porta Magenta, Piazza delgi Affari, Duomo, and Halleria Vittorio Emanuele II. A lot of fancy words to say I walked around a castle, a cathedral, a shopping center, and the financial area of Milan.

I met up with Benedetta and we got Aperol Spritz, which soon became my main drink during aperitivo (a pre-dinner food & drink) for the next week. She showed me the bulls in Piazza delgi Affari, which claims that if you put your heel on top of the bull tile and spin around 3 times, you'll get good luck. After what felt like 20 seconds of spinning because I have come to realize I don't spin very fast, I dizzily walked away and continued my day.

I had some more time the following day to myself, where I went inside the Duomo Cathedral, listening to my friend Halle's voice memo which felt very blasphemous, but it's common knowledge that voice memos from friends are practically podcasts that you respond to. I also toured around Pinacoteca Abrosiana, as well as the Teatro alla Scala.

Then, Benna brought me to Navigli (which is like a district within Milan), and we used the moped to travel to Parco CityLife, where I ate Tiramisu. Did I mention I started to eat gluten-filled food in France? I had been dying for a pastry, and Laura suggested I try a pain au chocolat. With my gluten pills in hand and a plead of mercy to God, I ate the food and (spoiler) didn't die! From there I was a gluten machine. "Yes please, I'd like every pasta and pizza plate you have, with bread on the side," and then the waiter looks at me with confusion because I spoke in english and I'm clearly at a very Italian restaurant.

We spent the fourth of July at Lake Como, where I did everything an American would do: drink and tan. The next day, Benna's school hosted a party where I pregammed with white wine, hung out with lots of her friends, and watched her brother get pulled over for screaming "USA! USA!" out of his window on the drive home.

On my last couple of days, Benna brought me to her hometown Bergamo, which was about a 45 minute trip outside of Milan. I learned how to drive a moped, I watched a puppet show, and we attempted to watch "Nacho Libre," which ended up being so awful (yet so aesthetically pleasing), we turned it off and went to bed.

And alas, I was onto my next destination: Norway!

NORWAY

After a two hour flight, I landed in Oslo to meet Victoria, Mery, and Victoria's father. A quick reunion later, we started our 3 hour drive to Victoria's cabin up in Geilo. We each got our own room in the cabin, and I happily crashed once we completed our midnight arrival.

The next day was spent with a homemade breakfast (I was on egg duty every day), a nice hike where I spotted wild sheep, and a rafting journey. The cold Norwegian water is no joke, and though I almost fell in multiple times on the rafting trip, I eventually jumped in and felt the feeling of my hands drift away with the current.

Since it was raining, many of our days at the cabin were spent either inside reading, (which was my dream), going to the local cafe and getting hot chocolate, or walking her two dogs around the neighborhood. Victoria brought us zip lining and to a lake where we (surprise) read more for hours. After a busy week in Milan, I was grateful for downtime.

I feel like I should note a couple things: How was I doing? And, the most important question, what books was I reading in Norway? Great questions!

I was doing astronomically better. Milan gave me a chance to reflect, understand why I was feeling that way, and also give me space to let go of anger towards myself. If I was frustrated with myself, I wasn't allowing any room for the cycle to stop, and that's not fair to me or my friends. So, after a week of what felt like intense psychoanalysis, I was mostly cured. I won't get rid of the fact that I still missed home, but I also understood that the first month flew by, so the next three weeks would probably go even faster. I just wanted to take everything in, and I'm proud that I was able to release those emotions from within.

And what books was I reading? Oh my goodness thanks for asking. On the flight and drive to Victoria's cabin, I read the entirety of The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks. I cried, I don't want to talk about it. Next, I read The Perfect Marriage by Jeneva Rose, which was, how can I say this, bad. Then, I read Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin. An intense book, lots of twists and turns and frustrations and love and heartbreak, but overall not as emotional as I thought it was going to be. Lastly, I started The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller, and I think I'm 30% of the way through but it's starting to be a hard read so I switched my book instead.

Moving on, we had to drop Mery off at the airport so she could go back to Spain, and Victoria and I continued our journey to her hometown, Arendal. This place is possibly the muse of the Frozen movies, but also that could just be my imagination. It was beautiful though, with a large mass of water surrounding the city center which held around 10,000 people total. Here, Victoria and I spent a lot of time watching Love Island UK, going on walks, meeting friends for coffee (or in my case, the start of my matcha journey), and having family dinners.

Then, I was off to my final destination: a three-night stay back with Rachel in her hometown, Cheltenham.

ENGLAND (again!)

There's not much to say about these next three days because it was filled with a lot of laughter and exhauastion. I was at the end of my trip, and the lack of sleep weighed on me, but that didn't stop us from watching Goggle Box, Love Island UK, and Don't Tell The Bride (a show where the Groom gets money to plan a wedding without the Bride's input, which always turned into a disastrous scene (like a guy making it a "jacuzzi" wedding, and buying his bride a bikini-wedding-dress even when her skin is sensitive to the chlorine)).

Rachel brought me to this huge bookstore, where I persevered and didn't buy anything, and also to a couple parks where we sat and celebrated her passing her accounting exams! We also had family dinners with her brother and his now-fiancé, and laughed the night away over some wine.

Then, my trip was done.

In the blink of an eye, my life went from stubbornly self-translating the street signs because I didn't want to use google translate to landing in San Francisco and getting picked up by my mom.

What a journey.

FINAL NOTES

Although I had crazy ups and downs, and went through mental pain and recovery, it made me realize that I accomplished one of my goals: travel solo around Europe. If you had asked that girl sitting in her international finance class if she was going to travel or work, she would've had an anurism. Now, I feel more confident in who I am as a person. I mean, I used the metro in every country without asking for help, I was able to chat with locals, listen to stories from different families around Europe, and overall become immersed in different cultures. I ate baguettes, I ate pasta, I ate Norwegian brown cheese, and drank lots of Aperol Spritz. I tried to say yes to everything, even if maybe it was a little out of my comfort zone. One night in Milan, I stayed out partying until 6 a.m. like a crazy girl (I will never do that again). What I'm trying to say is yeah it's scary, but being comfortable with yourself is one of the most rewarding feelings in the world. I could walk around a city by myself and not get bored, and that feels good to me. I feel more confident handling things alone, and I trust myself more to figure things out without relying on others. If this is what independence is, I never wanna give it up!

So long Europe, hope I see you soon (but not in the next 6 months to one year because I do need a break).

Lots of love,

Sky