Casting off I arrived in Ireland with two sweaters, both borrowed, and one pair of pants. My 15-liter daypack, clean but worn, was a relic from the last time I’d seen Seán, when we were both trailing around Latin America and met in a hostel dorm in Cali, Colombia. I didn’t need sweaters then. I haven’t needed sweaters since, really,...
Sunset in Lisbon is earned. I have seen it only after climbing up steps and navigating clanging yellow trolleys and slotting myself in between a pair of Spaniards preening for a photo and a Dutch couple with their faces pressed into each other’s necks. I have stood there, catching my breath, as I watched it start: saw it throwing light...
I leave for Lisbon tonight. It’ll be my first international trip in well over a year. Everyone keeps asking me if I’m ready. I don’t know how to answer them. Am I ready logistically? I suppose—I have a new suitcase and a renewed passport and two weeks of accommodation booked. Emotionally? Also yes. I’m sad to leave New York, but...
Yesterday, I started crying in a pedicure chair. I’d gone back to the place where I'd gotten a manicure the week before and where I’d had to bail on my planned pedicure because it was the Friday of Día de los Muertos, or the Day of the Dead, and I was running late. (I had to be at a friend’s...
It’s 1 p.m. and I’m in a stale-smelling hotel room in St. Louis, Missouri regretting this trip. I know these moments come. I know travel sometimes chafes like a polyester blend and leaves me uncomfortable. It can make me tired and grumpy, nervous and anxious, regretful and asking myself why (why!!) I thought this was a good idea. So I will...
I was never someone who cared deeply about my clothes. Yes, I fell victim to the Hollister-is-the-only-thing-worth-wearing fad of middle school (my mom once let me buy an ocean-blue long-sleeve t-shirt from the sale rack of the Hollister’s next to the eye doctor in the mall as a reward for choosing the less-expensive wire frames; it was my first Hollister...
After spending weeks curating and editing my packing list for a year-long backpacking trip, and then spending the actual year putting it to the test, I feel well-prepared to tell you what you need to spend 12 months on the road. I have made mistakes on mistakes on mistakes (why did I bring three bathing suits?; why didn’t I pack...
My hands are clasped around a fired clay bowl, still warm, though I’ve finished the soft humita (corn stew) and tender ternera estofada (braised veal) it contained. The air is heavy with the rich scent of heat, and I can identify each spice—cinnamon, cumin, sweet paprika, pepper, salt, chili flakes, thyme—because I measured them into what we’re eating. I inhale...
For months backpacking around South America, I introduced myself as a solo traveler. I’d meet other solo travelers and we’d talk about how wonderful it was to solo travel—the freedom, the lack of drama, the ability to do our dream trip without compromising, the lower barriers to meeting new friends. We all patted ourselves on the back for being brave,...