The Angst. The Angst.

I’m supposed to be flying to Paris in two days. I still have yet to receive my visa. Hence, the angst.

Traveling angst probably is common for a lot of people, but it is a pretty new feeling to me. I first went abroad by myself when I was ten. My parents found me a home stay family in New Zealand during winter break and popped me on a plane down to the southern hemisphere. It might look terrifying now, but back then, I was happy as a bird. Things like the language barrier and how on earth would I be able to manage the bus system in Auckland did not even cross my mind. Indeed, I was a fearless, brainless, ten-year-old. I did not over think things, like I do now.

I realized that as I grew older, the feeling of traveling angst becomes more pronounce each time. I think I’m loosing my sense of “winging-it” as I am growing up. I need to have everything planned, but as we all know, traveling rarely goes according to plan, at least in my case. There are only so many things that are under human control, the rest is left to fate, as my mom would proclaim. Like that plane that got shot down flying over Ukraine? Can’t really plan around that.

I have heard mixed reviews on the safety of Paris. My friend just told me yesterday how a friend of his got robbed in the metro under broad daylight.

--My god, I thought to myself, do I need pepper spray?

--I’m really loosing my marbles, how is pepper spray going to help me in the case of robbery? “Stop! Or I’ll blind you?!”

--Should I take up karate lessons then?

--Really Bev, you’re gonna kung-fu fight someone in the Paris metro?

I have to admit that after I have thought it through, it seems quite silly. Paris is just going to be like any big city in the world. It has its problems, and we will just have to deal with it. I mean, we get emails from GW warning about robberies all the time. Why would Paris be any different? (Who knows, Parisian robbers might be classier because they are French. “Mademoiselle, please let me grab your bag or I will jab this knife into your appendix.”) Traveling angst, it happens. As sad as I would like to admit, my life isn’t nearly as exciting as the movies and I will probably have to save my kung-fu fighting skills for some talent shows instead of fighting criminals in the metro.

Hopefully by this time next week, I’ll be in Paris already, safe and sound. (Visa, please hurry along.)