What’s the worst thing that’s happened to you while traveling?
One of my travel assumptions is that something will go wrong on every trip / vacation / adventure you take.
It’s a rite of passage. Big or small, something always goes sideways.
• • •
I remember my first solo trip, when one night I found myself without a place to sleep. Everything was full or extremely out of budget, and it was much too late for a tiny person like myself to be wandering about.
At the train station, I found a guy in the same predicament with whom I made friends, thinking we’d be better off as a pair than solo.
What I didn’t consider, was that he had a full arm cast, no luggage, and a crazy left eye.
I would either survive the night or be picked off by Natural Selection.
I placed my bet.
• • •
Then there was the time when my luggage was lost for my entire 10-day trip.
Procuring replacement clothing was easy enough, except for underwear, oddly, that was sold nowhere on the island.
Technically I did find a super XL pair in a bushel at a night market, but by then I had already grown accustomed to the breezy, freeing nature of going commando.
• • •
Now while I can’t take full credit for this debacle, my partner and I once arrived at the airport, the required 3 hours before our flight, the day after we were supposed to leave. 😬
• • •
What do you do when you get the hiccups?
In travel and in life, you will always have hiccups in even the best-laid plans. How you deal with them will determine the outcome of your adventure.
Do you see the plane as half empty — with the seat in front of you reclined, an obnoxious child kicking your seat, and a snoring stranger drooling on your shoulder? Or is the plane half-full — with the option to stretch out in an empty row with 5 rows worth of pillows and blankies?
Find yourself caught in a torrential rainstorm? Jump in the puddles and dance. (Pro tip: Also please watch out for floating dog turds)
Drank out of the locals’ water jug instead of the one for tourists? At least you now have a great Explosive Diarrhea story for the campfire.
Shit happens. Make the best of it.
• • •
This past week I decided I wanted to be a Tour Leader. I quit my job, stuffed it to my boss, sold all my worldly possessions, and bought a one-way ticket to Guatemala. (You can read about that here)
Standing in the security line for 20 of the 30 minutes I had to make my connection, I knew I would need to sprint through the airport terminal like an unhinged lunatic to catch my plane.
I arrived at the gate, sweating profusely, with shoes untied and pants at my knees because I had no time to put on my belt, only to be told I had missed the flight doors by one minute.
We’ve all been on flights where you see one shameful passenger walk on, 15 minutes after scheduled departure. For just once, why couldn’t I be that shameful sod?
• • •
If this was my travel snag, at least it happened early. I braced myself for a long night on airport benches.
What I actually got was complimentary meals, transfers, and a sweet assed executive hotel. I ended my travel day with a moonlit swim.
• • •
I should arrive in Guatemala City in the morning and my training starts 2 days after that.
I wonder who I’ll be.
(Likely a hapless Canadian yokel, that speaks no Spanish, because she’s too busy stuffing her face with corn tamales, but we’ll see.)
• • •
P.S. What happened with the train station, one-armed bandit?
This is a much longer story for another post, but after sprinklers, unrequited love, and a cold night on a train station floor, I have lived to tell the tale.