Feet to move, places to roam
On Monday night I returned home from a brief trip to California which I went on during the University’s reading week period. I began to board the plane in Winnipeg before the sun even thought about rising at 5:00AM. Winnipeg, to Toronto and onward to San Francisco, I peered about the window with more than one thought rushing through my mind. There was no time for a nap or even time to squeeze in a single episode of The Big Bang Theory only because my expectations and assumptions about California were dying to be met. Being a noob to the state known for celebrities, fancy cars and sunshine, I only knew what I had seen through T.V shows, movies or word of mouth, and with that, I was left with high expectations on what this adventure was going to entail.
It was 1:30 in the afternoon on the West Coast when my feet finally touched American concrete. As I gripped my suitcase with my right hand, my left adjusted my sunglasses that haven’t been worn in weeks due to the lack of sunlight in Winnipeg. Once a warm breeze swept across my face, I had already never felt so at home, however I soon realized my assumptions about California were a tad off. The weather was cooler rather than hot, the people were friendly and rather than rude (Which is obviously a good thing), and the atmosphere was relaxed rather than hectic which brought me more down to earth.I learned a lot about making assumptions, but most importantly, I learned not to make them at all.
When it comes to travelling, if it is a long, short, quick, or slow kind of escapade, I came to the conclusion that no matter what I am always going to learn something, even if it means I realize it in that very moment or six weeks later. I have now been travelling solo for just about three years and in these past three years travel has taught me so much more than a University classroom or $100 textbook ever will.
I first began to learn that flying solo is far from nerve wrecking but rather relaxing. Ever since I was little, having the opportunity to fly always got me excited, back then and still today I jump at any opportunity to fly away. Flying means travelling and travelling means going far from home which is more than satisfying. I took a deep breath and proceed boarding my first solo flight, I was nothing but nervous. Ever since I was 11 months old, my mom was my main travel companion, now she was no longer with me to steer me in the right direction of which terminal is ours and where to pick up my bags, it was all on me to pay attention to the simple details that will define which country I land in.
After I stopped panicking,I took a quick glance around the airplane and memorized my surroundings. I quickly realized how paranoid and stupid I was acting and came to the quick conclusion that was; nothing is more relaxing than flying. What scenario sounds more appealing than sitting on your own for a few hours in complete silence, among millions of white, fluffy clouds. To top it off, you are embarking on a new adventure, or travelling home to tell the tales that in some way changed your life or at least your perception on it. I learned after my first solo flight, no other feeling is comparable or as exhilarating as free falling through the sky to a new destination.