I know, I know. I swore up and down I wouldn’t be one of those people who abruptly stopped writing on their blog once they returned home. But that’s exactly what I went and did.
In my pre-trip daydreaming days, it used to drive me insane when I’d be following along with someone’s travels and then suddenly would be cut off. Sure, there’d be posts that would pop up six months later, promising updates and future writings, but then they’d trail off again. So I won’t even pretend to make a commitment as to whether this will be a regular thing or just a little blip. But I miss writing. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I’ve written posts in my head since we returned home. Often times I’d just be distracted by something shiny, and never finish the thought. Other times I’d just struggle to find the words to articulate my feelings about being home. Tonight I felt like writing so I did.
As of last month, we have been home for two years. We’ve been back home longer than we were gone. For a while, absolutely everything in our lives felt up in the air. For all of the lessons learned during our travels about not worrying so much, that things have a way of working out, I was having major difficulty coming to terms with the fact that my post-trip plan was going awry in a major way. Other than some freelance work, I was unemployed for a year and a half. Being unemployed and traveling is one thing; being unemployed and job searching while everyone else is at work is quite another. Each day brought a crushing mixture of boredom, loneliness, and soul searching, and I was losing confidence by the day. For over a year we didn’t hang a single thing on the white walls of our rental because we weren’t sure if we were staying. On top of that, we decided we shouldn’t put off trying to have children any longer. Each month I was (still am) simultaneously terrified I would get pregnant and terrified I wouldn’t, and fighting the growing sense that any illusion of control I had over the process was just that, an illusion. I felt confused. In travel blog land, taking a trip like The Trip was supposed to catapult you into a life where you shun all desire for material possessions, get in touch with your inner soul and passion, and create a life with meaning and purpose not bound by the walls of a house or office. Distancing myself from my hometown and circle of family, friends and acquaintances forced me to examine my inner motivations and desires. While it did shed some light on the life I wanted to lead and the realization that no one but me would create the portions of the life I was not currently experiencing, I never found the clear sense of inner enlightenment others appeared to have.
I suppose it makes me a bad traveler that finding a job working for the man and thereby admitting that I do, at least in part, define myself by my career and crave external validation of my worth, but I can’t deny that finding a job is what brought on some sense of peace. And I’m okay with that. I don’t know how much our travels affected my job hunt. It didn’t affect Sean’s in the least; his employer didn’t even ask him about our trip in his interview. I’m sure some employers were turned off by the crazy person who quit her job to travel the world, but I found most were just curious. I was being selective in a not so good economy, but in the end I found a job with the two criteria I was looking for most: spending my working hours doing something that (hopefully) makes a positive impact on the world and a job that allows me (most days) to have a life outside of work. I’m working as a child welfare attorney at a non-profit – it is about as opposite from my old firm job in every way, good and bad.
The Trip, as it has become known, seems like a movie we watched about someone else’s lives, yet not a single day goes by without some memory or connection to our trip popping up in some fashion. It changed us in countless ways: some superficial, like a higher tolerance for supremely spicy food; some deeper, like giving us confidence to choose to do things our own way instead of the way everyone else does things. It altered the way we understand world news, it changed our perspective on what we need in life, and it gave us a better understanding of human nature. It pushes us to continue to live outside our comfort zones and to create our own happiness. I don’t think it is a coincidence we both are doing little things to challenge ourselves. Sean ran his first half-marathon (and was training for the Pittsburgh Marathon until he hurt his knee) and is learning yoga. I ran my first 5K (which is pretty much a marathon in my world), joined a beer-loving women’s group where I didn’t know anyone, and turned a job offer that was perfect for a million reasons on paper because it didn’t feel right. And it is fantastic to be surrounded by friends and family, particularly with a new pint-sized addition in the form of a super cute nephew.
So I’d say we’re both pretty happy. We’re certainly enjoying our lives much more than we did before we left.
We both feel a restlessness deep down that we can’t figure out how to address. We recognize that life can’t always be so dramatic as the year we sold our house, quit our jobs, and hit the road. And neither one of us wants to pick up and take off for good tomorrow. But we can’t help having this nagging feeling that we don’t want our lives to be defined by Before Trip and After Trip. Otherwise the most awesome thing we’ve ever done and ever will do is already over, and that just can’t be.
So that’s what we’re up to: enjoying the stability that being at home brings, but feeling its limitations as well.
Of course, we’ve hit the road as much as possible. Six months after we got home, we skipped across the pond and finally went to Italy just before Christmas, spending ten glorious days eating our way through Rome and Naples.
Last summer, we dug out our passports again, this time for a weekend trip to our neighbor to the north, visiting Niagara Falls and Toronto.
In July, we reminded ourselves that domestic travel can be pretty awesome as well in a nine day road trip through Oregon and Northern California.
In December, we headed to Curacao in the Caribbean for our first underwater exploration since Hawaii.
And, finally, we just returned from a trip to a new frontier for us: South America. We spent 16 fantastic days in Brazil, exploring urban life in Rio de Janiero, taking a peek at the seaside colonial town of Paraty, “hunting” for jaguars in the Pantanal, and tasting, seeing and hearing African culture in Salvador.
We’ve returned with a big hole in our pocketbooks (Brazil is expensive – true story!), depleted vacation banks at work, an insatiable desire for caipirinhas and samba music, and a renewed case of wanderlust. I’m glad spring gave way to summer while we were gone, making it easier to look forward to the coming sun drenched days ahead instead of just daydreaming about our next trip. The choice we’ve made for now is to try to curate a life with balance of trips with a lower case “t”, day to day pleasures at home, and work and responsibility, and we’re still learning how best to do that.
So, that’s all for now. I hope you are well. I hope you are exploring and creating your happiness day by day. I hope you have the courage to leap outside what you feel you ought to do to go somewhere or do something where the end of the story is not yet written.
p.s. A while back, I put together an album with 180 photos from The Trip. Check it out!
p.p.s. Last summer, I came across this poster twice within a few weeks, first in a bathroom of a winery in Oregon and second in a dressing room of a small shop in my neighborhood. Both times, I was struck how well it summed up the lessons I learned on The Trip. I took it as a sign and bought a copy for my living room wall in case I ever need a reminder (which, in turn, spurred me on to hang other things up to make our rented rowhouse look more like a home).
I don’t know about you, but I’m incapable of reading about round the world trips without thinking in the back of my head, well that’s great, but how much did it cost?
The truth is, it depends. The title of this post is somewhat misleading. I can’t tell you how much it will cost you to travel around the world. I can only tell you how much it cost us to travel around the world. Everyone’s travel style and tolerance varies widely. Even in the realm of budget travel, there is a lot of variance. So much depends on things like the season, the country, the current economic state, and the strength of your local currency against the foreign currency, let alone personal factors like can you handle sharing a bathroom? Sleeping in a room with strangers? Taking cold water showers? Not having wi-fi? Going without a/c in the tropics? Taking public transport? Long haul bus rides? Eating on the street? Do you want to hop from country to country or city to city or do you like to stay in one place for a long time? Do you eat ramen to stay on budget or do you splurge on nice meals?
Besides travel style and other variables, the other thing to keep in mind when comparing long-term travel budgets is to determine what the numbers include. Some people include pre-trip costs like vaccinations and gear. Some people don’t. Some people include transport in their daily averages. Other people don’t, or only include certain types. Some people couch-surfed or stayed with friends, whereas others had to pay for all of their accommodations. What about things like prescriptions? Gear you pick up on the road? Travel insurance? Health insurance? Renter’s, home owner’s, or car insurance at home? Storage costs of keeping all your crap? Big ticket items like scuba certifications? Souvenirs for yourself? Holiday or birthday gifts for your family? Bills you have at home? Money you lost selling your home or your car at a reduced rate? There’s many direct and indirect costs that factor into how much a trip of this scale costs. When you’re checking out other people’s budgets, make sure you’re comparing apples to apples.
Even though I can’t tell you how much it costs to travel around the world, I’m sharing our numbers with you in the hopes that it may be a helpful starting point to someone who is trying to put together a budget. So without further ado, here’s our…
For the two of us to travel to 26 countries over thirteen and half months (409 days, to be precise), it cost us $71,897.46.
In this number, I’ve included the items that are most helpful for someone planning a budget:
- day to day costs (such as accommodation, meals, snacks, drinks, alcohol, activity fees, intercountry transport, tips, etc.);
- miscellaneous costs (laundry, ATM fees, exchange fees, gear and supplies picked up on the road, internet, etc.); and
- intracountry (i.e. cross-border) transport ($11,432.11).
I did not include the following items in the grand total. Many of these costs will vary widely based on your own situation. Plus, we didn’t track our pre-trip costs closely. When you are doing budget research, don’t forget to keep these costs in mind even if you don’t include them in your daily average estimate. Remember other people’s budgets may include some, none, or all of these things.
What’s not included:
- Student loan payments paid while we were away
- Minimal car insurance we kept on our car sitting at home
- Renter’s insurance for our items at home in storage (incidentally, I highly recommend looking into a renter’s insurance policy. It was cheap and turned out to cover items we brought abroad – like our stolen SLR. Our renter’s policy covered most of the loss when our World Nomads travel policy did not).
- Extra money saved as a buffer
- Cost of obtaining wills/power of attorney
- Costs of selling house/temporary housing
- Costs of selling house/stuff/car
- Costs of obtaining passports/passport photos/international drivers’ licenses
- Accountant fees for filing our tax returns while we were away
- Vaccinations, doctor co-pays for physician visits before we left, and prescriptions (guesstimate of about $2,500)
- Supplies & gear purchased before the trip (guesstimate of about $4,000 for everything except our SLR camera and camera gear)
- Storage for items we kept at home (about $1400 for the months we were away)
- High deductible health insurance we purchased to cover us in the United States (about $1,673 for the months we were away)
- World Nomads travel insurance ($1,113 for 12 months; we didn’t extend for the last 6 weeks)
- Scuba certifications ($1,201 for both of us to get our PADI certification in Koh Tao, Thailand and our advanced PADI certification in Perhentian Kecil, Malyasia)
- Gifts & souvenirs (about $2,100; includes our souvenirs, Christmas, birthday/Father’s Day/Mother’s Day/general gifts for family and friends, and shipping)
We’re pretty happy with our grand total. We never intended our budget to be firm and unyielding. Instead, we viewed it as more of a guide. We’re not the best budgeters, but it’s funny how lack of an income and a desire to keep traveling will keep you on track. We originally estimated $60,000. Had we not made the decision to add on 6 more weeks in New Zealand and Hawaii, our costs for our original plan of one year would have been about $62,710.
BUDGET IN CONTEXT
To put those numbers in context, we traveled with our budget in mind and watched expenditures, but we generally went for the best value instead of the absolute cheapest. This means, for example, that we might shell out an extra five dollars in Asia for a hotel room that was cleaner and brighter, or perhaps we would take a more expensive train instead of a bus if it got us there a lot faster. We always did our homework to be smart about our spending. We kept a close eye on ways to cut costs, like doing our own laundry when coin-op machines were available, or booking a service directly if it was just as easy to figure it out ourselves, or paying with a international fee-free credit card any place that would take it. We always had a private room and usually had private bathrooms, but from time to time we’d get a room with a shared bathroom if we were in a money saving mood. We sought out rooms with wi-fi and occasionally splurged on a/c. Because we love food and found food to be the way to the heart of a country, we ate almost all of our meals at a restaurant or on the street. We ate what the locals ate most of the time, but threw in some pricier Western style meals when we got sick of the local cuisine. We moved around a fair amount, and followed the weather even if it meant jumping around. We generally only flew when we had to, although we did take a few intercountry flights in India and one in Vietnam. We rented cars in a number of countries, but only compact or older cars. We didn’t shy away from doing activities even if they were costly, taking a when in Rome approach. (See, e.g. food and beer fest in Belgium; staying in a riad in Morocco and a ryokan in Japan; white-water rafting in Slovenia; cruising with Easy Riders in Vietnam; scuba diving in Thailand, Malaysia and Hawaii; taking a cooking class and visiting an elephant conservation center in Thailand; a candlelight tour of Petra; going up to the viewdeck on the world’s largest building in the UAE; getting up close and personal with whales in South Africa; going jetboating in New Zealand; etc.)
There’s no doubt that WHERE you travel constitutes the biggest difference in your overall trip cost. Traveling through countries that are not as developed will drastically reduce your costs. We averaged $97.54 a day in countries that were generally less developed than at home – think of the type of places where cash is king. Our average was almost double in countries that were more developed, or about $190.69 a day. On the other hand, don’t assume that just because a country is less developed that it automatically is inexpensive. We found countries like Morocco and Jordan to be much pricier than countries like Laos and India (but much cheaper than countries like Spain and South Korea).
(Note: In order to give you an idea of what it costs to travel through different types of countries, these daily averages only include day to day costs (such as accommodation, meals, snacks, drinks, alcohol, activity fees, intercountry transport, tips, etc.) and miscellaneous costs (laundry, ATM fees, exchange fees, gear and supplies picked up on the road, internet, etc.). They do NOT include intracountry (i.e. cross-border) transport).
No big shocker here, but it was our experience that your dollar stretches the furthest in Southeast Asia, which is why we spent four months in that region. You really can get really nice rooms for $12-$25 (as long as you are willing to put up with your fair share of not so great rooms in the same price range, as quality can be somewhat inconsistent). And if you are willing to eat on the street (and hopefully you are, because the food is delicious and that’s how Southeast Asians eat), you really can get dinner for two for a couple of dollars. Our daily average in Southeast Asia was $81.70 a day, and it would have been possible to go much lower. Our daily average in Asia overall was $109.09 – flanked by a very expensive Japan on one end and a very cheap Laos on the other.
By sticking mostly to Central Europe, our European daily average was $175.92. (Note: our earlier post about European costs did not include intercountry transport, which is why those figures were lower).
Fiji - $53.48
Laos – $59.82
Germany – $72.71
South Korea – $74.10
Thailand – $80.44
Malaysia – $82.92
Cambodia – $91.53
Vietnam – $100.16
India – $107.09
Hungary – $108.78
Poland – $120.63
UAE – $121.64
NYC – $129.74
France – $130.54
Czech Republic – $149.21
Jordan – $149.87
Croatia – $161.39
Slovenia – $175.83
Morocco – $180.68
Portugal – $186.78
Northern Ireland – $195.51
Spain – $202.83
New Zealand – $205.03
South Africa – $222.89
Japan - $237.02
Hawaii - $237.36
Ireland - $261.03
SETTING THE BUDGET AND MAKING IT HAPPEN
Traveling around the world sounds like a pipe dream, but all it takes is prioritizing travel above other things in your life, whether it be your car, your house, your wardrobe, your gadgets, etc. Getting Sean’s sweat equity out of our fixer-upper before we left was instrumental increasing our money stockpile, but so was living well below our means and several years of saving. If you want to do it – really want to do it in reality, not just in theory – you can make it happen. And you should make it happen. Because I can tell you, as much as it stung to find out in the middle of India that the sellers to whom we sold our house – you know, the one that we poured our hearts and souls into for four years – sold the house for $30,000 more less than a year after we sold it to them, the sting dissipates quickly when you realize, holy crap, I’m in India.
If you want to travel but don’t have the ability, desire, or time to save $60,000 or $70,000, don’t be scared by our numbers. It is absolutely possible to travel around the world for a long period of time for less than we spent. Check out two good round-ups of other traveler’s budgets here and here. If you want to or need to spend less, there are many ways to reduce the grand total. (And many ways to increase it, should you want to travel more extravagantly). For example, to cut costs, go for 11 months instead of a year. Go to fewer places for longer periods of time. Stick to countries that are less developed. Go in the off season. Skip pricey activities and stick to soaking up the atmosphere. Select accommodations where you can cook yourself. Consider couch-surfing. Don’t rent a car and take public transport. Limit the amount of fancy gear you buy in advance. There’s lots of ways to save, so don’t let money stop you from traveling. Prioritize what it important to you when traveling – location, accommodations, activities, comfort, value, lowest cost, weather – and the rest will fall into place.
We were fortunate to have enough money in the bank that we didn’t have to be slaves to our budget and could travel, for the most part, without money hindering our choices. We could have spent less, sure, but at this stage in our lives, we wanted a certain level of comfort and decided if we were going to do it, we might as well do it. And we could have spent more; there were times when we felt like spending a little more money would have allowed us to do more things or be more comfortable. But overall, we were happy with our style of travel and what it cost to travel that way. Because there are so many variables, setting your budget will not be an exact science. Once you have an idea of how much it cost other people to travel the world, you may want to pick a number that is feasible for you to save and that you feel comfortable with spending, and work from there to make your travels fit your number.
A couple of weeks ago, Akila and Patrick from The Road Forks (who, by the way, just took off on extended European travels with their two dogs in tow – check out their blog to follow along) kindly nominated Surrounded by the Sound to take place in Tripbase’s My Seven Links Project. The goal of the project is to dig out some old posts and bring them to the light of day. Since I’ve got over a year’s worth of posts from the trip’s beginning to end, and I’ve been pondering various trip wrap-up post in my head, I was happy to participate. So here goes:
Most Beautiful Post: Kodachrome
How to narrow down the most beautiful post out of all of the posts about the stunning places we’ve visited this past year? I could pick any of the posts about New Zealand, our last (foreign) destination and consistently the most jaw droppingily beautiful place we visited, hands down. But choosing New Zealand feels like cheating and besides, you’ve seen all those posts lately. I could pick natural wonderlands like Plitvice National Park in Croatia, Kruger National Park in South Africa, or the Antrim Coast in Northern Ireland. Or, how about a little village in Japan, the month of April in Paris, or beach paradises in India and Thailand? I mean, I have a whole category dedicated solely to pretty things covering the gamut from cities to flowers to ruins to people to beaches to sunsets. But I think my most beautiful post may be this early one from Marrakesh, Morocco. One of the most amazing parts of travel is the way it opens your eyes to beautiful little things in everyday life. When I look back at this post, with nothing more than pictures and a song running through my head, I am catapulted back into the early days of our adventure amidst Marrakesh’s calls to prayer, scooters, dust, tourists, souks, spices, and, most of all, colors. It didn’t take long to figure out that travel and Kodachrome are one and the same.
Most Popular Post: Random Lessons From a Year Abroad
My most popular post by far is Random Lessons From a Year Abroad (which got even more attention after a little old stumble from Jodi at Legal Nomads – thanks again, Jodi, for sending your many readers my way). Which is kind of funny, because I wrote this post off the cuff. It was one of those posts that I could have kept adding to forever and ever but for once I didn’t overanalyze it and just posted it. I’ve always felt appreciative when others wrote about what it really is like to travel, especially all of the conflicting emotions that percolate behind the surface, so I was happy to share what was on my mind after one year on the road and even happier it seemed to hit a chord with some.
I don’t really do controversy, per se, but this category winner has to go to the two part series, Adventures in Eating in Japan, Part One and Part Two. I started noticing an unusual amount of traffic on these two posts coming from some Japanese websites. Now I’m not certain, you see, because the websites were all in Japanese, but I’m pretty sure the Japanese were up in arms about me mentioning that Japan is a rather expensive country in which to travel. Their beef (literally) was that we spent $143 on a rather touristy (and ultimately unfulfilling) meal of Kobe beef. True, but even minus ridiculous splurges, Japan can be a budget-buster. At least they didn’t seem to mind that I exposed their love of whale meat. : )
Most Helpful Post: The Slooooooooooow Boat to Luang Prabang
In reading other travel blogs, I’ve learned that reading a blow by blow of the logistics of someone else’s travels is only interesting if you happen to be going to the same exact place and need more information. So I avoided writing too many posts specifically about logistics and instead tried to weave tips into our stories, like in this post about budget accommodations in houses of Croatian Grannies or this one about visiting Petra. There were a few times – usually when I couldn’t find specific information I needed – that I dedicated a whole post to logistics, like this one about Tips for a DIY Safari in Kruger National Park. My most helpful post is a bit of a hybrid; it’s about our experience on the slow boat from the Thailand/Laos border to Luang Prabang down the Mekong. It’s a common trip, and judging by the outside interest this post has received, I think people are curious (like I was) to see what they are getting into before they commit to a two day adventure.
A Post Whose Success Surprised Me: Tom and Jerry, Sun-Lit Scenery and Porn: Just Another Trip to the Desert
Why, oh, why do people want to find porn with Tom and Jerry in it? Are there some sort of male porn stars named Tom and Jerry that I am not aware of? I am still surprised to see this post about spending September 11 in Wadi Musa, Jordan getting hits day after day. Sadly, it is not because people found my post to be full of insightful social observations or beautiful desert scenery; nope, they just have a fetish for a cartoon cat and mouse.
A Post I Didn’t Feel Got the Attention It Deserved: Hog Tales, Vietnam Edition
I don’t know that any of my posts deserve to get attention, but there are many that I write and then don’t hear much about. One example is my recent post about returning home. I’m guessing by disappearing for a few months after our return I answered the question in the post title. I am not going to be posting as often now that our trip has ended, but I like writing. At the very least, I still want to wrap some things up on here about the trip. So if you are still inclined to read what pops up from time to time, make sure you subscribe by email or add the RSS feed to your Google Reader. But since my last post is not really part of the archives that this 7 Links project is designed to unearth, let’s go with Hog Tales, Vietnam Edition, the story of our three days riding around Vietnam’s Central Highlands on the backs of the motorcycles of two Easy Riders. Sean and I had a lot of fun seeing Vietnam through the eyes of My and Mr. Pepperman, and I think this post captures the quirkiness of the experience.
A Post I am Most Proud of: Impressions of India by a Type-A Personality
India is complicated. It took me a long, long time to put together my thoughts about India down on paper (well, on screen). When people ask now what my least favorite country was I’m tempted to say India. But it’s not exactly true, because even though India was challenging for me while we were there (in essence because it is so radically different from the American society I’m used to), it is the country that lingers with me the most. When I look back at my posts from Calcutta, the Andaman Islands, Fort Cochin, and the Kerala backwaters, in particular, a smile breaks out. So I am most proud of my introductory post about our time in the country because I think I finally captured, in words, my jumbled emotions about India – by far the most fascinating country we visited.
Thanks for indulging my trip down memory lane. Hope you found some posts you may not have seen before to give you some more reading. To continue on with the My Seven Links Project, I nominate these bloggers. I’ll be looking forward to seeing what they write.
We’ve been home for almost two months, in fact.
And, yet, you’ve heard nary a peep.
I had every intention of writing about our return. But the truth is, I’ve been having trouble. And the real truth is, I’ve been having trouble writing about returning home because I’m having trouble with being home.
It’s not the culture shock. Sure, things are different here. I had Pad Thai that cost $13.50 – 13 times the cost of the Pad Thai I’d get in Thailand and 13 times the size, too. I can do laundry anytime I want and my outfit options expanded tenfold, yet I still feel like I have nothing to wear. I relish drinking water straight from the tap, everyone’s on a cell phone all the time, including me (even if it is an old school relic that takes me ten minutes to write out a text), and I drove for the first time in over a year. Everything seems really quiet, even though we’re staying in the heart of one of Pittsburgh’s busiest and trendiest neighborhoods. But, overall, the shock part was tempered by meandering our way home from Asia via New Zealand and Hawaii.
No, what’s weird about being home is how not weird it is to be home. We slipped back into our home lives as if we never left. Our cat Fabulous was snuggled back in my lap within hours of our return; we helped my mom with a big move within days; we had eaten at most of our favorite eateries within weeks. Sure, there was some initial awkwardness: at first, we had to actively remind our brains about which direction to go when driving around, even though we’d driven that route a million times. Conversations were strange; how do we, and how do they, sum up an entire year at once? But overall, even though we hadn’t been there for over a year, home is still extremely familiar. The road had become our normal, but returning home pushed our travels back to the realm of exotic and foreign in one foul swoop. Using a squat toilet, eating on the street, doing math every time we paid for something, moving on when things got boring – these concepts suddenly became strange again. Our whole life for the past 13 and a half months didn’t just become a memory, it suddenly seemed like it happened in a dream. Eating baguettes in Paris, getting lost in the souks in Morocco, watching lions protect their kill in South Africa, praying the splash from the Indian’s boy cannonball didn’t hit us with the Ganges’ holy water, riding on the back of motorcycles through Vietnam – did these things actually happen?
Everybody at home warned us we’d be bored when we got here. I didn’t believe them; I was so homesick after being gone for so long, I thought for sure the comforts of home would outweigh any boredom. But after all the reunions, there’s just life at home. There’s big events to look forward to – concerts, get-togethers, new restaurants – but these things happen once every few weeks. I’m struggling to hold onto the appreciation of the little, every-day things I constantly marveled over on the road. It doesn’t help that I have endless hours to fill. Sean went back to work within weeks of returning home (a new job at a great company – yay), but I’m still looking. Even though there are openings at multiple law firms for which I would be qualified (and which would replenish our bank account rather nicely), I’m trying to hold out for a different path. I’m impatient. I am so ready to go back to work, to do something productive with my mind. I’ve had some interviews recently, so there’s hope, but in the meantime, I wait.
Sean’s parents very generously offered to put us up when we got home. We lived with them for two weeks, and while the home-cooked meals and freedom to do laundry was wonderful, we didn’t want to impose on them indefinitely. So, we’re doing it to our friend instead! We’re paying him a small amount of rent and he’s putting up with us and our cat for the time being. We’ve looked at apartment after apartment, and missed out on one due to stiff competition, but rejected the rest for one reason or another. You’d think our standards would be lowered after the hovels in which we stayed during this past year, but we’re yearning to find a good, clean, bright place to call home. We’ve even got our eye on an old house in the city with lots of original charm (and corresponding pain-in-the-ass old house problems) so we’re not ruling out buying something yet. I’ve realized my two loves – old houses and travel – don’t mesh together very well. Every time I get smitten with a house, all I have to do is think of all the places I want to go to remind myself to tone it down and not chain myself to an oversized mortgage and endless hours of renovation.
So, that’s what’s been happening during these two months. I’m in limbo and slightly adrift. I’m eager for stability, yet I jump at the chance to eat some pho or pad thai. Nothing compares to being able to talk to and see our friends and family on a regular basis, or being able to snuggle with Fabulous any time I feel like it, yet we went as far as to price flights to Italy to try to fit in one last hurrah before Sean returned to work. I sat down to write about returning home many times but have been struggling to find the words. Returning home is complicated. I am glad to be home, but I’m still working out what this next stage of my life will look like. After all, if you shake things up as much as we did, it takes a while for the pieces to settle.
Today, 408 days after we first set off, heading east around the world, we return home to Pittsburgh.
The big, fat, black raincloud that we picked up back in Malaysia followed us to Hawaii, showering seven inches just on Sunday alone and flooding parts of Kaua’i. The bad weather this past week thwarted much of our plans, giving me way too much time to think. I feel like I’m running in place, treading water. The feeling I have can best be described as bittersweet – more sweet than bitter, more bitter than sweet. It’s the end of the biggest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but it is time. I’m ready to move on from moving on.
My thoughts race forwards, to excitement at seeing my friends, my family, my cat; to what I’m going to do this weekend; to tasks I need to take care of to reintegrate into everyday life.
My thoughts are in the present, but they’re all in terms of lasts, to the last Iced Mocha at Small Town Coffee; to the last Aloha; to the last tropical fruits; to the all too brief moment of sunshine on my face and sand between my toes, to the last pretty flower.
My thoughts race backwards, to the butterflies I felt sitting in JFK, waiting to embark to Barcelona; to fleeting memories of the past year; to disbelief that it is all over. Other than my memories of New Zealand, the rest of it – all of it – is already fading fast. Things like being in Ireland with my friends seem like an isolated vacation I took a long time ago.
Overall, I’m full of anticipation, because I don’t feel like my journey is over. Sure, the perpetual physical motion is over, but the spiritual and mental motion in some ways is just beginning. Even after college, I’ve never felt like my life is so open, so full of possibility, as it is now.
Future, what do you hold for me? Only time will tell.