I want this trip to change me somehow, I told my mom before getting on the plane.
I want that for you too, she said.
Oh no, it's not usually my initial reaction when stepping into a beautiful hotel room overlooking the ocean.
I've traveled solo plenty, but for some reason it felt like the emptiest room I had ever walked into.
This right here had been the exact image I'd had in mind.
Me, by the ocean, the air feeling warm, peace.
Instead, the sound of each wave felt like a wave of anxiety.
It didn't feel relaxing, it felt too loud.
I don't know why I felt the way I did.
I just knew I wanted to flee.
If I still feel this way by tomorrow morning, I'll take an earlier flight home, I thought to myself.
But for now, let's just sit here for a moment.
I knew I could be back home in less than 24 hours if I wanted to.
I wasn't stuck here.
I felt like a fool.
I had voluntarily committed to something and now I could not get out of it fast enough.
But was that the type of person that I was?
The type who just runs away when things feel uncomfortable or overwhelming?
I didn't want to admit it, but it wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to me.
It's a beautiful morning in a beautiful place, and I'm here thinking about all the times that I've done just that.
Ran away.
From situations, from people, from places.
Was that why the crashing waves felt so unsettling?
Because it echoed every doubt that I've had about myself unveiling my insecurities like never before.
The hotel coffee was too sweet for my liking, and I was not in the mood for unfamiliarity.
I craved home.
So I went to a Swedish cafe, got myself a coffee, a sandwich, and headed to the beach.
For a moment i felt how the overwhelming urge to flee took a back seat.
The sun felt so good on my skin and philip had finally stopped getting so heavily bullied.
With each page i read, i got more pulled into a story, and with each sip of familiar coffee i drank i felt more and more okay Back home.
Each day has a purpose and a plan.
Routines, distractions, must-dos.
And time slips by almost unnoticed.
But when you're in a new place where you have nothing but time and space to just exist, time breathes.
Everything slows down.
I wonder why that type of freedom can make one feel so uncomfortable and lost.
Here's the thing about solo travel.
I hate the nights.
I love the mornings and the days.
Every time i solo travel, i feel my best from the morning until like 7 pm, and then i hate it but i love it during the day.
The sense of okayness that I had felt at the beach had followed me throughout the day, lingering like a protective blanket.
But it was like that feeling was following the sun instead of me, because it faded as the light did.
I can't quite explain it, but as I wandered on the loud, busy streets it felt almost surreal, like life was happening around me, but I was not part of it.
Before bed I again checked lights back home just to make sure they were still available in case I wanted to leave.
They were, but so was that feeling I had had on the beach where everything had felt okay.
I'll just redo today, tomorrow, I thought to myself, unaware that everything was about to change.
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So I did something not very smart.
Maybe you can guess what just by looking at me.
Yesterday i was out all day with no sunscreen on.
I thought it's only 22 degrees.
I don't burn that easily, i'll be fine.
Well, look at that.
So now i need to change my plans for the rest of the trip and stay out of the sun, and i need to buy.
I have not been this burned since i was a kid.
Look at this sunscreen As if spiraling emotionally was not enough.
Now I was sunburned itchy, red and mad at myself.
I threw on whatever layers I could to hide it, forced down a dry piece of bread and overly sweet coffee and headed out early trying to make something of this morning before the heat got too intense.
It was day three and somehow, despite the burn and growling stomach, I didn't feel quite so lost anymore.
In a strange way the sunburn felt almost poetic and comedic, like the universe had a weird sense of humor and I figured I should at least try to join in on the joke.
Things like grocery shopping, popping in and out of stores and putting more effort into interacting with people I met along the way were all things that made me feel like I was in fact part of something, not just an outsider looking in.
I don't know what it is, but I'm craving a Snickers bar so bad.
So I'm gonna see if I can go and find one somewhere.
I was really craving a Snickers bar.
Couldn't find one anywhere, strangely enough.
But I did find this chocolate, and I like this one as well, so it'll have to do.
I know it's an unpopular opinion raisins and chocolate, mmm.
And just when I needed it, I stumbled across an old bookstore.
One of those places that, like pizza, somehow feels like home no matter where in the world you are.
But that night, I didn't feel like I was drowning anymore.
Not exactly floating either, but I was managing to stay just above water enough to breathe calmly without gasping for air.
It was also the first night I didn't look for flights home, mainly because I literally couldn't.
There was a complete power outage in all of Spain.
So there's no power, there is no service.
It's been down in most, if not all, of spain, parts of portugal france, and no one seems to know what's going on.
So i was just in the lobby, just came back to the hotel to keep my phone charged in case the electricity in the hotel stops working.
Um yeah, i put on the tv here at the hotel hoping to see some news, but there is none.
So i'm just gonna wait here for a little bit, charge my phone and then head back to the lobby.
It is a bit scary, but Hopefully it's just temporary.
The entire town fell into a strange, echoing silence.
No street lights, no glow from shop windows, no wifi, no phone signal.
It was unsettling, eerie.
I spent the entire evening in the hotel lobby, which remained lit thanks to their backup power system, but around 3am they shut it all off to save energy.
The universe's weird sense of humor continued making sure I was not only sunburned and low on phone battery, but also completely unplugged and off-grid.
I accepted my fate and went to bed.
Everything was back to normal in the morning.
I caught up on some calls and texts that had come through, reassuring loved ones that I was okay.
And I was genuinely okay.
I was more than okay, more than i had been.
That entire week i kept reading about philip's adventures and on this fourth morning the wave sounded different no longer echoing doubt and insecurity, but something steadier like self-trust like maybe, just like philip, i was starting to believe in myself too, Being the restless soul that I am.
I had spent some time exploring the nearby towns, wandering into every art gallery I came across, each awakening some of my favorite emotions curiosity inspiration, awe.
I chatted with artists and got to learn about their journey, which is always music to my ears.
I bought myself a truly awful latte, which I somehow didn't mind knowing it would be my last one in this town.
I took photos of the beautiful corners, colorful walls, charming alleys that looked like they belonged in a dream, and along the way I poured my thought into the only living witness of the emotional rollercoaster that had been the last few days my notes app.
I left Spain feeling proud of myself for staying, for being patient, for trying, for adapting, for showing up despite uncertainties and fears, for not running away like I often do.
Mom, this trip did change me.
I came looking for relaxation and a tan.
Instead, I got sunburned, lost, inspired and humbled, which honestly might have been better.
