The Traveling Introvert?
Lately, people - friends, co-workers, social networking acquaintances - have been telling me I should be a travel writer. I guess they know of my two loves, writing and travel, and think I should combine them. I appreciate the sentiment and the idea, but I've yet to utter a resounding, "I know!" Because, frankly, I don't know. I mean, it would be awesome - AWESOME - to get paid to write AND travel. But seriously... What would that even look like and why would anyone pay me to do it? I'm not a "foodie" and I don't drink or do "night-life", luxury, "hot-spots", or crowds.
So, what in the hell do I do when I travel if I don't do any of the traditional guide-book-tourist activities? And moreover, why do I even bother doing it at all? Right?
Let's remember one fact - I'm an INTROVERT (Perhaps a slightly extroverted one when the circumstances and my mindset are both favorable, but don't let that little bit of misdirection impact this discussion). I assure you, that doesn't change as soon as my passport gets stamped. And because everywhere I go, there I am... I'm sure you get the picture. Regardless of the continent, I'm introverted. This means that I prefer to be alone, experience alone, eat alone, walk alone, observe alone, choose alone. It also means I don't chat up strangers or relish a groups of any size. I like people fine. I just don't like them near me.
Actually before my first trip, I wondered if I'd be too introverted to enjoy traveling. I worried I'd curl into the fetal position and stay that way until it was time to fly home. People and the world can be scary. Plus that whole new thing thing. Eek. I do a lot better when I'm safely inside my comfort zone.
Then I was in the Amsterdam airport and the fetal position wasn't really an option. Partly because it just wasn't and partly because I had to go to the bathroom. I rifled through my psyche and found one little crumb of fearlessness. Turns out I held onto it so tightly that it disappeared. Fuck. I took a breath. And found a bathroom. And my connecting flight to Copenhagen. Then the train to the Central Train Station in Copenhagen. Then Google Maps helped me find my hotel.
And you know what? I was ok. Shocker, right?
What did I do next? I read through my guidebook (I like Lonely Planet) and checked with Google and Google Maps. Then I decided to take a walk and see what I could see. I saw a lot - bicycles, cloudy skies, Tivoli, the train station again, a 7-11 on every corner, cute dogs, a pedestrian shopping street, and eventually Nyhavn. I repeated the process in Malmo, Gothenburg, Stockholm, and Vaxholm, over and over for two weeks. I saw things I'd seen a thousand times in pictures and in movies; things I never imagined I'd see in person.
I loved it all. Every everything. Even paying to use a toilet. But I think what I loved the most was who I was when I was there. Maybe it was because it was so unexpected. I joke about the fetal position, but it really could have happened. What if I'd closed up and closed down the moment my surroundings began to overwhelm me? And they invariably did. Imagine everything being new. Hell, Diet Coke wasn't even called Diet Coke. Now imagine being an introvert who struggles with new things. It could have been a disaster.
But it wasn't. I WASN'T. Each new city was a battle - I'm not going to sugar coat it - but I proved again and again that I was able to organize the chaos and find my way (Thanks again, Google Maps). There were times I'd head for the safety of my hotel room or have McDonald's for dinner simply because I couldn't handle doing anything else new. I learned to push myself and to give in when enough was enough.
I can't wait to travel again - I'm going to Stockholm again in October and to Prague, Vienna, and Budapest next Spring. I don't know exactly what I can't wait for - Being away from home? The excitement of being somewhere new? Seeing things never thought I'd see in person? It's all that, assuredly. But I think what I look forward to most is me.
Me.
Ok, back to travel writing (I bet you thought I forgot where this thing was supposed to be going). Travel for me isn't where I go or what I see. It's about who I am and what I discover about myself while I'm doing it. Now, I'm not an editor of travel blog or magazine, but I'm pretty sure that's not going to sell. Who wants to read about an introvert traveling the world...alone...who doesn't give a flip about 90% of what traditional tourists give a flip about?
If someone out there wants to hire me to do that, I'm in. I'll sign of lifetime contract and work for little more than a per diem (as long as I can pay my student loans every month). No offers? Yeah, I didn't think so.
So, what in the hell do I do when I travel if I don't do any of the traditional guide-book-tourist activities? And moreover, why do I even bother doing it at all? Right?
Let's remember one fact - I'm an INTROVERT (Perhaps a slightly extroverted one when the circumstances and my mindset are both favorable, but don't let that little bit of misdirection impact this discussion). I assure you, that doesn't change as soon as my passport gets stamped. And because everywhere I go, there I am... I'm sure you get the picture. Regardless of the continent, I'm introverted. This means that I prefer to be alone, experience alone, eat alone, walk alone, observe alone, choose alone. It also means I don't chat up strangers or relish a groups of any size. I like people fine. I just don't like them near me.
Actually before my first trip, I wondered if I'd be too introverted to enjoy traveling. I worried I'd curl into the fetal position and stay that way until it was time to fly home. People and the world can be scary. Plus that whole new thing thing. Eek. I do a lot better when I'm safely inside my comfort zone.
Then I was in the Amsterdam airport and the fetal position wasn't really an option. Partly because it just wasn't and partly because I had to go to the bathroom. I rifled through my psyche and found one little crumb of fearlessness. Turns out I held onto it so tightly that it disappeared. Fuck. I took a breath. And found a bathroom. And my connecting flight to Copenhagen. Then the train to the Central Train Station in Copenhagen. Then Google Maps helped me find my hotel.
And you know what? I was ok. Shocker, right?
What did I do next? I read through my guidebook (I like Lonely Planet) and checked with Google and Google Maps. Then I decided to take a walk and see what I could see. I saw a lot - bicycles, cloudy skies, Tivoli, the train station again, a 7-11 on every corner, cute dogs, a pedestrian shopping street, and eventually Nyhavn. I repeated the process in Malmo, Gothenburg, Stockholm, and Vaxholm, over and over for two weeks. I saw things I'd seen a thousand times in pictures and in movies; things I never imagined I'd see in person.
I loved it all. Every everything. Even paying to use a toilet. But I think what I loved the most was who I was when I was there. Maybe it was because it was so unexpected. I joke about the fetal position, but it really could have happened. What if I'd closed up and closed down the moment my surroundings began to overwhelm me? And they invariably did. Imagine everything being new. Hell, Diet Coke wasn't even called Diet Coke. Now imagine being an introvert who struggles with new things. It could have been a disaster.
But it wasn't. I WASN'T. Each new city was a battle - I'm not going to sugar coat it - but I proved again and again that I was able to organize the chaos and find my way (Thanks again, Google Maps). There were times I'd head for the safety of my hotel room or have McDonald's for dinner simply because I couldn't handle doing anything else new. I learned to push myself and to give in when enough was enough.
I can't wait to travel again - I'm going to Stockholm again in October and to Prague, Vienna, and Budapest next Spring. I don't know exactly what I can't wait for - Being away from home? The excitement of being somewhere new? Seeing things never thought I'd see in person? It's all that, assuredly. But I think what I look forward to most is me.
Me.
Ok, back to travel writing (I bet you thought I forgot where this thing was supposed to be going). Travel for me isn't where I go or what I see. It's about who I am and what I discover about myself while I'm doing it. Now, I'm not an editor of travel blog or magazine, but I'm pretty sure that's not going to sell. Who wants to read about an introvert traveling the world...alone...who doesn't give a flip about 90% of what traditional tourists give a flip about?
If someone out there wants to hire me to do that, I'm in. I'll sign of lifetime contract and work for little more than a per diem (as long as I can pay my student loans every month). No offers? Yeah, I didn't think so.
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