I took a solo trip to Spain last week. It was the most affirming, anxiety-inducing, and wonderful thing I've done since I came to Europe. And, traveling alone is something you should all do if you plan to study abroad.
The trip started out as one that I was supposed to take with a friend of mine, but her visa wasn't processed in time, so I was forced to take the trip alone. I was admittedly nervous before going, which was weird for me. I pride myself on not being scared of travel or city life. I've done some pretty unsafe and questionable things since I was a little kid, whether it's walking around Times Square by myself, taking flights alone, or getting lost in the middle of Maryland by myself my freshman year at GW. I'd never felt that scared doing all those things, but traveling to Spain alone was something that genuinely worried me. I took Spanish for four years but my proficiency is still incredibly poor. I didn't have enough time to plan out the places I was going to because of finals so, in turn, I hardly knew anything about the three cities--Seville, Madrid, Barcelona--I would be going to.
The week leading up to my trip was a difficult one--I had three papers to write and one project to finish all while packing for this trip and taking care of some . . . let's call them "mishaps" that happened in regards to my booking details for this trip. I was feeling pretty hopeless on the Thursday night before my flight. I had to calm myself down repeatedly and tell myself that it would all be okay. And, of course, it was.
I traveled first to Seville, then to Madrid, and then to Barcelona. Three cities in four nights. The trip was the best. I saw things I never thought I'd be able to see, my Spanish was a lot better than I remembered, and having time alone to myself was much needed. Yes, there were some parts of the trip that scared me. Walking around by myself at 6 in the morning in an unfamiliar part of Seville to catch my train was not an ideal situation. And struggling to figure out what overnight bus I was supposed to take to Barcelona was nerve wracking. But it all worked out in the end. And I feel like I grew up, which is what this semester was supposed to be all about. I don't feel years older or anything, but I do feel like something has changed.
There's something freeing about traveling alone. You get to do literally whatever you want. And it never gets lonely. I had no idea that a lot of hostels really made it their mission to make you feel at home and make you feel like you're part of the community. So I met a lot of people and talked to strangers that I wouldn't have learned about otherwise. This trip was a grand opportunity to put myself out there and not worry about embarrassing myself. It was liberating. And, at times, it even felt essential.
At one point in my trip to Barcelona, I just decided to walk in one direction and see where I would end up. And, as it turns out, I ended up on the top of a massive hill overlooking the city. I had no idea where I was. But I was glad I found the place. There was no one else around. And I just sat there for half an hour, staring out over the Barcelona skyline. Alone, but feeling just fine. Every anxiety I had prior to the trip was remembered, and I came to accept that those kinds of worries will never really go away whenever I'm planning a big trip or some big life move. They won't go away, but I have an underlying feeling that I'll always figure out a way to make all of it worth it. I'll always find a way to feel fine. That's the kind of thing I need to remind myself for this last semester of college coming up. And, more importantly, it's something I need to remind myself after I graduate and try to find my way. So, travel alone. It really is the best way to learn.