In Which I Share My Learnings

1. If you want to breakfast like an Italian does, you better not have diabetes. Seriously, I don't even consume that much sugar in my desserts.

2. If one is to buy a lovely new leather purse in Florence, and transfer one's belongings from the old purse to the new one, don't congratulate yourself on being uber-tidy and throwing out unnecessary bits of paper, when one of those now-thrown-away bits of paper is the deposit slip for your luggage left at the train station. Fortunately Italians are not known for sticking to the rules, so I did get my backpack returned safe, but not before a lot of frantic rummaging through handbag pockets and cursing under my breath like a mad old lady.

3. As an introvert, I have accepted that I need my downtime and I'm getting better at not feeling self-conscious about it. I prefer to get up early in the morning so I can sightsee while it's quiet; this then means, though, that by the time early evening comes I'm so drained from all the stimuli that I physically and mentally cannot cope with the stereotypical backpacker experience of going out drinking. I prefer to hole up either in my room or in a quiet corner of the bar if the hostel has its own, and read my book or surf the net. I've more or less stopped caring what other backpackers think of me, as I care about my sanity and wellbeing far more - and I know that if I let myself get too tired out, I just feel homesick so I'd rather avoid that.

Having said that, I did manage to successfully interact with actual real live people in the hostel in Copenhagen; I drank in the hostel bar two (two!) nights in a row, and even talked to more than one person on each night. I know, right?!

4. I still feel permanently guilty whenever I have to interact with a local, for the sole reason that I don't speak any other language. I feel like prefacing every sentence with an apology for being another stereotypical mono-lingual English person.

5. Following on from the above, I've more or less accepted that I don't understand what's going on around me most of the time. Bill Bryson writes in Neither Here Nor There that he likes being in a country where he doesn't speak the language, because he doesn't have to listen to an overheard boring conversation between strangers. As clever and witty as the man is, though, I can't agree with him here. One of my favourite things about public transport is gaining a picture of the people around you by the things they talk about, then making up ridiculous backstories for them. I initially felt like I was missing out on such minutiae away from the UK, but I've come to terms with it now and mostly just wander round in a state of amiable cluelessness - which is probably something I'll bring home with me, to be honest, because it's actually quite freeing.

6. Kindles (or other e-readers) are an absolute, 100% god-given lifesaver for travelling, solo or otherwise. It's kept me company in many restaurants, and has provided relief from the busy crowds. When I'm tired of walking but it's too nice to be inside, I can sit outside in a park, square or piazza and escape from the world. And it helps me to sleep at night. Of course, ordinary printed books do all this too, but at the rate I read I would have needed a second suitcase just for books. I'm only three weeks into my trip and already I've re-read the entire Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series; two other novels, and three works of non-fiction. Not gonna lie, I feel pretty smug about this.

In addition, I have a selection of phrasebooks stored on my Kindle so I can quickly check how to ask for the bill while I'm sat in a restaurant. I even have the Kindle app on my phone for the same reason, just in case I happen not to have the Kindle itself out.

I wholeheartedly eat and retract any negative comments I may have made about e-readers in the past; I'm a convert (though real books still have a firm place in my heart).

In Which I Say Goodbye

I've come to the conclusion that I'm terrible at goodbyes. Some people can say exactly the right things, which are sincere and caring and clever, whilst also successfully navigating hugs and working out which direction to walk in.

I am not one of those people. I pause and gape like a gutted guppy, feeling like there is more I want to say but not quite managing to get anything out other than the usual little insignificant tokens. And then still usually end up doing the 'awkward hug', or tripping up as I'm walking away.

However, my goodbyes are done. I even found time to say goodbye to this beast:

The to-do list has been fully ticked - actually that's a lie, I still have a crap-ton of things left to do but I'm running out of time so I'm just going to bury my head in the sand.

I have managed to pack, though. Gadgets and gizmos and coping mechanisms galore, all just-about stuffed inside a carry-on size backpack:

Why yes, I am taking a graffiti'ed My Little Pony with me. Childhood nostalgia ftw.

The sheer fact of what I am going to do has hit me, and to be honest I can't decide whether I feel dazed or panicked... It switches from one to the other.

I certainly don't feel ready. My comfort-zone loving introvert side doesn't relax until I know exactly where I'm going, what I'm doing and whether there will be a nice quiet room somewhere with no people... Which won't really happen for the next four months, in all likelihood.

Still, for all that I don't feel ready, and despite worrying that I won't have enough introvert-friendly downtime, I am bloody excited. I'm looking forward to gaining some new perspectives, learning more about other countries, and spending more time outside than I currently do. I suppose I'm also looking forward to meeting new people as well, albeit somewhat begrudgingly.

An Introduction.

I'm about to depart on an adventure. The use of this word is relative; what I'm doing and where I'm going may not seem particularly adventurous to some - at least, to those people who've already travelled all of the continents and can order a coffee five different ways, in five different languages. However. In my 26 years on this planet, I have left the UK a total of 5 times - and only two of those were as an adult. So, this is kind of a big deal to me.

On Sunday 11th May, I will be flying to Rome, the start of a 4 1/2 month stay in Europe flitting around various countries. I do not speak any other languages, and I am also an introvert who likes her home comforts. To illustrate: just three weeks ago I cried at the prospect of having to phone a potentially-angry customer; my favourite way to spend a Friday night is to hide under the duvet from 9:30 onwards, falling asleep to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy radio series; I get a little disappointed if I don't get a regular opportunity to have lengthy bubble baths (and by regular I mean twice a week).

So now you might see why this trip means a lot to me. 

~But if I'm such an introvert, why am I going?~

There are several reasons. One of the first triggers, that made me think about visiting somewhere for longer than the average holiday, was my oldest friend leaving the UK in 2010 to travel the world. Her enthusiasm before she left was infectious, and made me feel almost brave enough to think of doing something similar myself. Sadly, relationship, work and money issues have made my own plans come to fruition slightly later than I would have liked, but my gratitude goes to my friend for inspiring me so.

I'm also all about character development. Anyone who has spent any amount of time with me in real life will know that one of my favourite rebuttals to any complaint is "It's character-building!" So I'm basically taking my own advice and doing something which goes against my natural inclinations, in order to learn and experience new things, and grow from it. And, *maybe*, have some actual fun in the process.

But it's not just about the self-helpy growth stuff. I'm also going for the gelato food.