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The Globe Junkie

I steeled myself after dinner, knowing that at any moment the weight of what I was about to do could crush me like a hammer. I was more nervous than I had probably ever been before, pacing the house thinking over and over about the airport procedures my dad had always handled for me in the past. That’s the funny part. That’s what got to me all the time; the airport procedures. Nothing scared me more. My brother and his girlfriend were living with me and my parents at the time and they taught me a super secret packing technique passed down for generations. Then my dad gave me this old big blue German backpack and I started to stuff every last article of clothing I could find in there until it was filled to the brim.

My eyes were on the prize, beating back my anxiety punch by punch. ‘We’re doing this’, they said. ‘No turning back’. I handed my brother some of my things to help me prep and got back to packing, reassuring myself that tomorrow morning was go time and this would change my life forever, hopefully for the better. That optimism helped me work through the nerves. I zipped up my backpack, feeling as though I had just finally vanquished a supervillain. That feeling of preparedness is a hard one to beat. I lifted the backpack up and threw it on the couch to prove my readiness. “It’s now do or die” I told myself. “Let’s go”. 

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I turned dramatically, the winds of victory manifesting behind me, the sirens singing in operatic tones to declare my courage. Then my brother came in and said my passport expired last year…

Yeah, we learned this the night before my non-refundable flight. Here we were this multicultural family of seasoned travelers and I guess nobody even thought to look at the expiration date. We had just traveled two years ago. Of course, it would work… until it wouldn’t. I felt as if an anchor had dropped in my stomach and pulled me out of the temporary high I was feeling. I needed to regroup at once.  It felt surreal. I stopped packing prematurely and slumped down onto my couch, realizing my pockets would be short $300 for nothing. It was a heavy blow but not one that could bring me down to the floor.

Suffice it to say, my plans were dashed but all in all, it was nothing too crazy or difficult to overcome. In the end, I got one extra week with my family which was great since the previous last week was spent 90% with my hands stuck in sinks and covered in soap. I successfully obtained a  new passport in San Francisco, good until 202.. It was a much simpler journey, flying direct to Paris with three days there in an Airbnb before WOOFing in Burgundy and another proposed trip to Italy. I’d only really planned up until mid-May and left the rest open, thinking I’d return to Deutschland and maybe see Spain if possible. It’s strange to think of now; the spontaneity of my trip at that point. I wasn’t really the type to go in blind to something as big as this, not in those days at least.

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Nevertheless, question time; does anyone remember Yo Gotti’s Rake it Up? A true national historic treasure to some and the moment that marked the decline of American world hegemony to others. To me, it was my ‘on my way to the airport’ soundtrack. I flew out of Oakland’s small airport, the first time having done so. All the trips to Germany were via San Francisco. It was packed. The check-in lines were being managed by one poor fellow whose eyes told us the story of a man beaten down by the world around him. Some customers were being real assholes too. This all happened while I went crazy with anxiety, hoping to just get this airport lameness behind me.

Luckily my family was all around me, offering their support and I felt strong among them. I went through Customs and we all hugged, them giving me their last words before seeing me off. I didn’t say much, just accepted the words and took a deep breath. That turn was the sharpest in my life. It’s the one where you turn to face something and know turning your back is a whole life changer. My resolve came back and cold determination overwhelmed me. I walked forward, deadset on getting on that plane, the family getting farther and farther behind me as I went. Soon enough, I got to the gate, ready to finally get this show on the road.

my first solo trip: part 0

Until the Trip Continues