Winter Trips

Posts Tagged ‘London’

I remember my first visit to Paris. I was 21, and had dropped out of college two years prior, caught in a spiraling travel addiction. It all began at age 16; my parents let me go visit Argentina one summer, and I was bitten by the travel bug. I saved up all my money in high school so as to have a blowout, gap-year trip upon my graduation from the drudgery of teenage education. I didn’t tell my parents, but that summer after graduation I secretly deferred from Columbia University, bought a one-way ticket to New Zealand, and told them a mere week before I left. My father nearly had a coronary, and my mother just shook her head sadly. I was pretty much out of their lives for the next five years, as we had to make peace with each other.

My nearly year-long trip to New Zealand spoiled me. I had the time of my life, but that is for another time. When I finally showed up for school the next year, my heart wasn’t in it. I survived a year, and then left directly from JFK airport for Dar Es Salaam. I vanished for the entire summer, and somewhere along the line ended up in Providence, Rhode Island, working at an independent bookstore. It was a strange time in my life; it is always funny how things turn out.

However, Paris is the topic in question. I still had some close friends from my disastrous first year at the University. I knew from email communication that two of them were studying abroad at Oxford that term. One week, sitting in my dingy, moldy, shag-carpeted Providence apartment, listening to the neighborhood children fornicating in the adjacent park, I realized that I had enough liquid cash to buy that plane ticket to the United Kingdom. Due to a no-longer remembered holiday, I was able to take a four day weekend with only one day off work. I went ahead and bought the ticket, figuring that it would be a fantastic surprise for my friends. I would tell them when I arrived in Heath Row, or such was the plan.

But this is not just about Paris. On a deeper level, sure, I was addicted to travel. At one point I thought it had destroyed my life. I dropped out of university for a total of four years to work low-paying jobs and blow the money on weekends to Canada. Yet in the end I returned with a new-found appreciation for education that was reflected in my stellar grades. Employers generally been extremely receptive to the experience I’ve gained through my travels, and they like that I’m not a cookie cutter candidate. As in all things, yes, travel has to be done in moderation. But never say never, don’t give up on your dreams, and sometimes, yes, do something deliberately rash, stupid, and exhilarating. You never know where it may take you.