Feel the fear and write about it anyway

Up until about two years ago I wouldn’t have admitted to really being scared of anything. None of the obvious fears particularly bother me: spiders, snakes, heights, flying… I’m not too keen on fire having had an unfortunate incident at school involving my arm and a Bunsen burner but I can still light a candle with no fuss.

Spider
You don’t scare me Australian spider

I’ve been thinking a lot about Two-Years –Ago-Me recently. Two-Years-Ago-Me was just about to book her first flight to the great unknown. She was hesitant about quitting her first ever (and to date, only) permanent job she’d ever had, or possibly will ever have if I continue at this rate. Two-Years-Ago-Me thought she needed to plan and was concerned about going away alone. She was nervous but not scared, she wasn’t scared of anything.

While I can say now that I have probably changed significantly, it is my element of fear that bothers me the most.

I am scared of commitment. I didn’t really consider it two years ago because I had decided to quit my job and run away but for some reason that I can only assume is age-related, I am scared of what I should be doing and more so, the fact that I’m not doing it.

Rafting
Slightly more scared here

I’ll be 25 soon. I am aware that this is in no way too late to change my life/settle eventually/blah blah, however I sometimes wonder if I am going backwards rather than forwards. At 18 I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life but I had plenty of time to decide. At 21 I still had no idea of what I wanted to do with my life but now I had a shiny new degree to try and use to justify my enormous debt. At 23 I still didn’t know but that was ok because I was going to go travelling. And going travelling is a really worthwhile thing to do so it’s ok to not know what else you want to do, you’re just finding your way in life, right? Right?

25 is a whole new ballgame. Not only do I still have no idea what I want to do with my life but it’s got to the point where it scares me, as if I’m running out of time to decide. In a way, I am. There’s only so much you can do with low-paid jobs and a lack of somewhere to live that isn’t with your parents. If I do another working holiday, will this disappoint my hard-working parents all over again? Will it make it impossible to find a job when I get home? The six months of searching haven’t found anything so far, do I want to go through it again?

Canyon swing
Ok, scared now. As you can see by the look on my worried face!

These questions that go through my head on a near-regular basis are nothing new. Two-Years-Ago-Me thought these things to, especially when I was debating whether to actually quit my job in the first place. The difference between then and now is that none of those things scared me two years ago. Now, almost every possible outcome scares me in some way:

  • A permanent job: a permanent job means having to settle somewhere and not being able to just drop everything. I can’t do that, there’s so much to see! But…
  • A temporary job: could end at any time; what if I ran out of money? Although, I could leave again and travel. But…
  • Travelling: what if I get there and can’t find a job? I’d run out of money in a different country! I’d have to come home. And then…
  • Home: There’s so much still to see, I don’t want to settle! Repeat cycle of thoughts.

Feel the fear and do it anyway, I’ve heard that a few times. But seeing as I’m feeling the fear about every outcome, which one to choose? I can only hope that Two-Years-From-Now-Me picked the right choice and will sit there, glad that the scariest option won because it was all for the best.

An ode to budget airlines

It’s not that I don’t like being English.  I actually like it quite a lot. Other nationalities seem to like our accent (why?) and our native language one of the most widely spoken languages in the world – which is handy if, like me, you’re terrible at learning new languages.

It’s just that I’ve never really understood why people from other countries around the world want to come here so much. Maybe it comes back to no-one ever being content with what they have but I just don’t understand why the UK is deemed to be such a great place to move to. I’m clearly biased but I’d take a New Zealand winter over an English summer any day.

One huge benefit of living in the UK, however, is the ease and relative low expense involved in leaving the country. Yes, one huge benefit of living in the UK is being able to leave. Hello, budget airlines. The greatest invention in travel since the neck pillow (or maybe the neck pillow came later. Either way, they’re both excellent inventions). It costs less to book a return flight abroad than it does to get some trains within the UK. In about the same amount of time too. The UK is fantastically placed in that a two-hour flight or less will get you to lots of destinations in Europe.

Finding weekend getaways becomes the mission of the rooted traveller. Especially if you’re surrounded by like-minded people who send you messages such as ‘there’s a flight sale on’.  Two hours later you’ve booked the flights and just need to find somewhere to stay. Easy.

plane-view
View from the skies during my more travelled months

So this is my ode to and personal thank you to the budget airlines of the world. You make international travel entirely possible on a small budget. You allow moping post-travellers that have returned home to relive their most exciting days and sneak away for a weekend. You make life more fun and you bring the world together. And for this I thank you.