Thursday, 23 June 2016

Travel Nerves

I'm a worrier. I worry about the little things, like whether my sandwich has secret butter in it or if I'm washing my hair too much; I worry about the big things, like what if I'm in a car/bus/train/plane crash or what if I never get a job and a house and a mortgage and a pug. Sometimes I worry a little bit and then I realise that it's probably not worth worrying about, and I rationalise. Sometimes I worry a lot: it starts in my head and, before I know it, I can feel it in my chest and my stomach, and it hurts. 

In less than two weeks I'm heading off to South Africa for a whole, giant, long month and I am the most confusing mix of super duper massively excited and totally petrified. I'm scared about the plane. I've never been on a long haul flight before, and I've never travelled by myself before and I'm just a bit worried. I'm not good at sitting still for ages, and I like chatting to people - so here's hoping I'm sitting next to someone who wants to chat with me for ages and stroke my hair so I can sleep. But here's also hoping that they leave me alone and don't touch me and aren't weird and creepy. I'm scared about my luggage getting lost, or going on the wrong plane, and not having enough time to pick up my luggage and check it back in when I change. I'm scared about spending 4 weeks away, because I've never been away for that long before. I don't really know what I'm scared about though, because I know everyone will still be there and things will be normal when I come back. I'm scared of getting rabies or trampled by an elephant or eaten by lion...kind of. And I'm scared of the unknown, of not really knowing what to expect, what it'll be like, what I'll do, and who I'll meet. I'm scared about stuff I can't really put my finger on. 

But, I am about to embark on a huge adventure, and do the things I've always wanted to do, and tick a thousand things off my bucket list. I'm leaving Europe for the first time ever, I'm going on safari, I'm seeing elephants, I'm travelling alone and I'm going to Africa. And I'm also really, really excited. Ever since I can remember I've wanted to go on safari and see the animals you see in the zoo that you know shouldn't really be in the zoo. I've wanted to see elephants being elephants where elephants are supposed to be elephants, and lions, and buffalos, and rhinos! I've wanted to go somewhere where I really feel like I'm away. Somewhere that isn't Italy, or Spain, and isn't like the UK but sunnier and has better food.  I've wanted to go on a long haul flight, to see what plane food is really like, and to discover whether I'm one of those people who can sleep on planes, and to watch all the films that I've not seen. I've wanted to go somewhere on my own, just to prove to myself that I can and that I'm a strong, independent woman and I can do what I like. And I've wanted to do something that scares me...properly...not just like eating a cheeseburger and hoping for the best.

So I think it's going to be good, because with everything I'm scared of brings something I'm excited about. And the more I think about it, and the more I try and rationalise it, the more I realise that I'm a lot more excited about the exciting things than I am scared about the scary things. Wish me luck, dairy free sandwiches and a trip free of rabies and full of elephants. I'm hoping to keep a kind of travel diary on here (wifi dependent), so keep an eye out and look forward to billions of pictures. 

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