I can’t identify what it is that makes me nervous. Perhaps this is why I don’t travel anywhere alone. The idea of solo travel is a romantic one but I know the minute I get off the plane, I would regret going. Who would help me? Who would I talk to when I’m not exploring amazing architecture. Who would I eat with? Strangers? You mean I have to *shudder* socialise? I want to shake off those shudders and approach strangers to ask for help without feeling judged, stupid, pitiful, lost and beyond help. I want to get over that feeling of hopelessness in unfamiliar territory.
I sometimes imagine myself exploring unknown places, foreign lands without a plan or care in the world, but then I realise I’m just replaying a scene from a random movie or travel programme, where the hero always bumps into someone willing to take them around to explore the colourful street life of Vietnam, Thailand, the Philippines.
I digress. I realise I fear being vulnerable, being in a position where I have to admit I am lost, in order to get help. I fear new train ticket machines because using them entails putting yourself in a clueless position to ask for instructions. I fear getting on a plane because it involves checking in and boarding and a hundred other terms I’ve read about but never experienced.
I fear the unknown.
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