Four weeks. Five days.
I’m stuck in that horrible limbo where you are aware that something huge is approaching rather rapidly, yet refuse to engage with all the preparation neccessary to make sure said huge event goes smoothly. I was always the same with exams. Sure I revised, ish, but always managed to spend copious amounts of time filing my nails and cleaning my room as well just to avoid the reality. This time around, rather than a string of crap-your-pants, brain squeezing exams, I am coming up to what I’m sure will be one of the greatest times of my life…but the reality is still the same; I’m terrified!
I am a 23-year-old female about to embark on a four month trip…SOLO *cue gasps of horror*. As I rambled mentioned during my last post, the reactions of others have been getting to me when I mention my imminent travels. Some people seem to think that just because I’m not hideous looking that all the foreign men within a ten mile radius are going to descend upon me in hoards and whisk me off to be some kind of sex slave drug smuggler imprisoned in a cave somewhere as soon as I land at the airport. In response to their mutterings I shrug my shoulders and laugh off their worries, but all the statistics being thrown at me and my mum’s fears that I’m going to be sent home from Thailand in a refrigerated coffin have started to get under my skin.
Luckily, having travelled a little prior to this big trip, I have learnt not to let the fears get in the way. It is just not worth worrying about all the possibilities…the dangers of being a female solo traveller are the same as the dangers for females, anywhere, full stop. You can get mugged or raped 100 yards from your house. Depressing, but true. That’s my argument in most of these anti-travel debates. I don’t know the statistics but I’m pretty sure walking down certain back streets in London is far more dangerous than following a brightly lit, well trodden tourist-trail.
So no. I refuse to dwell on the horrifying world that awaits *rolls eyes*. I feel the fear but do it anyway.
No, what I’m really worrying about is my bikini body (or lack of), how many pairs of mini shorts to take…and that four months just won’t be long enough. Eek!