Saying goodbye is the worst part of traveling.
I’ve returned now from my trip and am settling into a new apartment in the center of Barcelona. I’m living alone (I think, there’s another roommate apparently but I haven’t seen him yet, it’s been 3 days.) But for the month of July I’m living in the center of a big city, something I’ve never experienced before. It’s coming with it’s own challenges and victories and embarrassing moments (I couldn’t get my door open today) but it’s very interesting and I love the apartment.
Returning from this trip, I have a feeling something is different. Two weeks on the road living out of a backpack spending every moment with friends has now gone to a room full of things I probably don’t really need and constant solitude (which is quite blissful actually).
Saying goodbye to my friends was really hard, as well as the beautiful places they live that I got to experience and be a part of for a short while. I’m always going to carry around these new stories and experiences, and they’ve all ultimately changed me and made me feel less afraid of this big world. I’ve met people from all over the world with their own unique stories that opened my mind to new perspectives. I embraced the Berlin motto of “poor but sexy” and drank beer and ate cereal on the street with my friend while yelling in Polish. I’ve been to grimy techno clubs and Biergartens and walked by countless canals. We ate cherries in the Turkish market and drank a lot of Club Mate (sometimes mixed with Vodka). My friends have shown me how to be fearless, unique, independent and grounded. The world has shown me that most problems can actually be solved, and that no matter how far across the world people are fundamentally all the same.