To Africa and Back
It’s a very weird feeling to know that in less than three months I’ll be in a place I’ve always dreamed of. I have dreams about being there and missing out on something – I guess it’s anxiety that I won’t get absolutely everything out of my trip. But the funny thing is, when I wake up, it feels as though the whole trip was a dream, rather than just the part where I missed out on seeing a black rhino.
It’s been so long since I’ve been any place new that the idea isn’t frightening but just difficult to believe. I don’t really remember what it’s like to go some place totally different and be overwhelmed by the new experience. I’ve fallen into this rut – and I am entirely aware of it – in which I keep visiting the same places over and over and over. I love Disney World, but every time I go there, as much happiness as it gives me, I feel a bit drained knowing that I could have used that money to go somewhere extraordinary.
The same goes for my second trip to Las Vegas. It was my idea. I planned it. But mostly because a friend was celebrating a birthday, and I wanted her birthday to be great. So we booked a trip to Las Vegas because it’s where she’s always wanted to go. The total cost for about 4-5 days was $1100 with airfare, accommodations and all the drinking, eating, clubbing and gambling. Not bad. But that $1100 could have bought me a ticket to Europe or somewhere I’ve never been. I keep thinking, if you would just save your money a little longer, you could go somewhere amazing.
I don’t know if it’s the comfort of going some place I’ve already been or the fact that these are places that my friends will readily go with me. I guess that’s what’s so different about Africa. I have no one else counting down the days, no one looking up restaurants they want to eat at . . . none of the camaraderie that comes with traveling alone. And as much as I love the independence of solo traveling, it’s a bit lonely.
And without anyone else to plan and share with, it seems a bit, unreal.