I always had this goal in mind that I would go to Europe before I turned 30. It was just this milestone that I had in my head, and if it didn’t happen, I was a loser.
For a trillion and one reasons, it hasn’t happened yet.
It being travel. Outside of Australia. Since I was a lot younger.
I blame the GFC.
But, this year, a very good (and very accomplished) pal of mine, Lauren, used her ~mad skillz~ to get me a very decent ticket into Berlin and out of Dublin.
Two weeks after the big 3-0.
For 26 nights.
The rest is up to me.
How are you feeling about it all?
I’m pretty much sitting here in a bubble of overwhelm, having personal crises about whether I’m too old to stay in a hostel (private room, thanks), whether I should catch trains or fly through Europe, or whether I’ll get arrested on the plane for having a meltdown mid-flight thanks to a pretty solid fear of flying.
What countries are you going to?
Good question! I actually don’t know yet.
What I can tell you is that I’d worked out I could spend 3 days in like… 8 countries (maths) and I would be a European hero.
But I was talking to a friend*, and to paraphrase, she was like, “Bitch, calm down. You can go to Europe any day. People who do Europe right, do it in stages. Like me. Because I’m fierce. Stop stressing. Enjoy. Live. Laugh. Love. Om.”
What’s your next move?
Figure out how much money I can make from all of my possessions to cover the GBP exchange rate, take half-arsed French, German, Dutch, and British lessons on YouTube, and probably have 50 mental breakdowns.
Why are you blogging about this, you psycho?
Because it just feels like the right thing to do. After all, if you can’t be cathartic on the internet, where can you be?
(Plus I paid $18 for a domain name.)