Just Doing It

New places, by and large, aren't my favorite. Then why do I love travel? Patience. As they say, "Wait for it..." Whenever I arrive in a new city, I am instantly uncomfortable. In other words, my comfort zone is blown. I'm confused, anxious, unhappy. Everything is...well...foreign. I don't recognize anything - not one landmark or one street. Without Google Maps, I am lost. North and South blur, east and west, too (Who am I kidding? Even with Google Maps, it's all a blur. What in the Hell direction am I supposed to walk? I can't tell you how many times I walk ten steps in the wrong direction only to reverse course and realize I'm still not going the right way). 

When I step off the bus, as I did in Reykjavik, or exit the train station, as I've done just about everywhere else, I tell myself that if I can find my hotel, I never have to  leave it. I can close the door and be safe. I have to play mind games in the beginning. I have to. Otherwise the fetal position could be come a reality. Once in the comfort of my hotel room, with my things organized, I can finally breathe. The anxiety subsides. I now have a landmark, someplace that's mine. 

Then almost immediately, I make myself venture out. If I let myself get too comfortable in my hotel room, it will only be more difficult later. No matter the time or how long I've been traveling, I start walking. With my hotel as the center of my world, I boot up Google Maps and find someplace to go. In Oslo, it was King Johan's Gate; in Bergen, the waterfront; both times in Stockholm it was McDonald's. A few days ago in Reykjavik, I needed coffee and breakfast. The place I chose was barely .3km from my hotel but it got me out and started. 

As the days pass, the radius gets larger and my confidence grows. On just my third day in Reykjavik yesterday, I navigated my way around the city center without the assistance of Google Maps. I can't promise I can find everything, but I know the major streets (A running tour with an informative guide definitely helped my knowledge of the city's streets) and have gained a basic grasp of north and south. Now, if I look at something on a map, I can find my way there with little trouble and minimal anxiety. I may check Google Maps just to be sure I'm going the right way, but it's no longer the crutch it was when I first arrived. 

I don't know if everyone does this. I guess most hop on a tour bus and see the city that way. I'm lucky that I'm able bodied enough to walk just about everywhere. It's only way to truly get to know a city. Sure, if you can rent a car, you'll end up with a better grasp of the highways and byways, develop a larger radius, and see more of the city, but will you know the city - it's smells, sounds, it's very feel? Will you see the street art? Smell the fishiness of a fish and chips stand? Smile and say hello to someone waiting for the light to change? Window shop? Try a bakery because you need a cup of coffee to warm up? I've done all these things and more.

I think my anxiety and introversion would very much like to rent a car. Like the hotel room, the car would become part of an extended comfort zone. But where would I go? And what about parking? Most touristy places are hell for parking. Even the desk at my hotel said that spots are at a premium especially in the evening when many guests return from their days adventures. Plus it's a huge added expense. Unless I'm planning a city-to-city trip and plan to stop along the way, like when I drove from Malmo to Gothenburg a couple years ago, I avoid car rental. No sense placating my introversion and anxiety issues. 

[Ok, complete transparency - I did rent a car this trip. For one day to get to a race (that was too far from my hotel to walk or run to, plus it was just plan cold out). Once I got to the site, I made myself get out of the car. I made myself walk to the tents that were just going up. I made myself chat with a couple guys who were likewise waiting for their bib numbers. Then I retreated to the warmth of the car until it was time to warm up. I did the same thing after the race. I changed out of what wet clothes I could (in the non-privacy of the car) then ventured back to the finish line to grab a Coke (It was ridiculously good) and watch a few more runners finish. Then it got really cold (sweaty tights and sports bra being the divining rods they are) so I once again retreated to my car and came back to the hotel where I took the world's longest hot shower.]

And that brings me to The Point. If it's so uncomfortable and disconcerting, why do I travel? Because it's a challenge. Because I can't kowtow to my psychology; I can't become it's victim. Yes, it's stressful. New places are weird and foreign and the possibility of getting lost is really, really high. The first few steps are horrible, the next few feel like a scratchy sweater you can't wait to take off, then miraculously you find yourself in this exciting new-and-improved comfort zone. From there, it's as if anything is possible.

If someone told me when I first arrived that I'd spend yesterday afternoon exploring Reykjavik without a hat, gloves, or Google Maps, I'd have said they were crazy. Sometimes you really don't know what you can do until you do it. One day I decided to try and I've been just doing it ever since.