I honestly can’t believe I’m in Prague now; I have a bit of whiplash.
We landed here two nights ago after a day of travel that I’d rather not memorialize in writing. (Teleportation, people; it’s 2017, why has travel only gotten worse post-airplane?) While I’m happy to be here and I’m really happy that my apartment is a bit more spacious, I wasn’t ready to leave Barcelona.
To start, there’s just so much to do. So many cultural sites, so many restaurants to try–part of working while traveling is that you can’t be a nonstop tourist. If I’d been in Barcelona with nothing to do but explore for a month, that may have been long enough, but working and doing We Roam activities as well…I could have easily spent the whole summer there.
And on top of that, saying goodbye to Barcelona also meant saying goodbye to a new friend. One of my fellow Roamers, Dawn, became one of my closest friends over the last month, but Barcelona was her final stop. For now, at least…Dawn, if you’re reading this, you better come back.
Then on a deeper level, I’ve spent the last couple weeks feeling very off-balance. I was too overwhelmed initially to react to anything; I just experienced it. But as time has gone on, I’ve become adjusted enough to actually feel overwhelmed, if that makes sense.
I truly like every member of the trip individually, but collectively, it’s a lot. People are always doing something or planning to do something. And then those plans change, constantly and rapidly, which is difficult for someone as Type A as I am. Last night for instance, I was in the middle of trying to write this blog post when my friends decided suddenly that it was time to leave to go do something that I was only mildly interested in doing. So I closed my computer, put my shoes back on, and ran out, only to wind up spending 20 minutes standing in a hallway because we ran into people we know. (There are always people we know.) Then there was the negotiation: where are we going, how will we get there, in what order will we do things.
Once we got the excursion underway, I had a great time. I almost always do, which is why I didn’t say, “Go ahead without me; I’ll just sit here with my computer.” But in addition to that healthy self-knowledge, there’s also an unhealthy layer of social anxiety that kicks in whenever I think my friends may be having fun without me.
I had a minor conflict with someone last week (almost entirely of my own making and resolved with friendship flowers, so all is truly well on that front), and it made me question whether or not this trip is a good fit for me. While I love the travel, the group is a tough environment for someone with my personality and particular brand of anxiety. I’m used to spending a lot of time on my own, even–perhaps especially–while traveling, and the day-to-day currents of the group can be very draining for me. But they can at times be exhilarating as well. Part of me is still wondering whether this is a great new challenge or an unnecessary irritant.
Maybe I’ll know better by the end of my month in Prague. This is the stop on our tour that I’m least enthused about from the outset. I’ve been here once, for a long weekend, and that felt like enough time to do the touristy things that I wanted to. And our first couple days haven’t overridden my initial feelings–we’ve gotten yelled at for making too much noise in every restaurant we’ve been in, my new phone is currently sitting in the labyrinth of Czech customs, things close earlier than I’d like, etc. I don’t hate it, Prague is a beautiful city, but it doesn’t fit me like Barcelona.
But maybe this will make me a little less frantic, a little bit better equipped to find the balance I so sorely missed last month. I hope so because Barcelona felt like a careening roller coaster–fun and exciting, to be sure, but thrill rides are designed to last two minutes, not twelve months.
When I signed up for We Roam in March, I thought about joining their itinerary that launches in July, Orion. I knew I wanted to be gone for at least a year, and the idea of starting from the beginning with a group really appealed to me. But, once I decided to leave, I wanted to get going ASAP, and I was lured in by the prospect of Barcelona in May (spoiler alert: it’s fabulous).
So I agreed to join Polaris, the inaugural We Roam tour, and hop into a group that’s been traveling together since January. There have been a few new additions and a few departures, and I’m one of five to join this month. But the other four new recruits are guys, so…
I’m the new girl.
The last time I was the new girl was in high school, when I transferred schools halfway through my junior year. It didn’t go well, to put it mildly. The other students had been together since preschool for the most part, and the cliques were well formed. Coming in as the new girl meant harassment and capital-D Drama.
I’m happy to say that this is going better. Whether it’s age or just a correlation between the type of person who signs up for this program and a certain level of chill, everyone’s been very welcoming. I’ve had drinks and dinner (and played quarters, but let’s not talk about that right now) with a bunch of different people; the clique factor seems uncommonly low.
Which is good, because that’s honestly the only thing I was worried about coming into this trip. Everyone else was concerned about exchanging money or how I’d stay in touch or whether I’ll get mugged at some point (I mean, possibly). I felt like, all of that will be fine, but as someone used to spending a lot of time alone–hence the blog name–is traveling around with a big group of people going to suck?
So far, it doesn’t. Yay! But even with a relatively smooth transition, they’re still learning about me–and vice versa.
You don’t get very many opportunities in life to make a wholly fresh start. Maybe college, grad school, a few moves–but the longer you’ve lived, the higher the chance that you know at least one person wherever you go who will be able to tell your old stories. So coming into this trip, knowing absolutely no one, I have a little bit of freedom, a chance to show my idealized self, if I choose.
But I think for the most part, I’m just being me. Maybe a more extroverted version of myself, but I’m sure that will balance out over the next few weeks. I’ll admit that part of the drama in high school was my fault–unsure of myself, I tried to be what I thought they wanted. At 33, I’m pretty settled in my personality: I like fancy food and hate spin class. I read. A lot. I hate futbol but love football. I’m an incorrigible flirt with bad follow through. I like to dress up but hate heels.
I’m still willing to try new things, but I’m no longer formless; my personality has parameters.
And everyone on this trip with me has the same opportunity to present the version of themselves they wish me to see. Given that a few of them are here because of pretty seismic life events, they might be taking advantage of that. I wouldn’t know. One guy spent half of my first night trying to convince me his name was Steve. It is not anywhere close to Steve, and that was a pretty rude thing to do to a girl meeting 30 new people on zero hours of sleep. He was properly chastised.
Beyond the individuals, though, I’m also meeting the group. Everyone else has been together for at least a month; some of them have been together for four months. They have shared history, experiences, inside jokes. Relationships of all sorts have come together and fallen apart. Over the past week and a half, I’ve been putting together a puzzle and discovering new pieces every day. I’ll probably never have all of them–and I’m adding pieces of my own as I go. But I’m happy with what the overall picture looks like.
One of my fellow Roamers pointed out that I’ll only be the new girl for a month. He was a new guy last month, and next month in Prague, we’ll get a few more. I told him that given that, I wanted a tiara. Instead of anxiety, I think a new girl celebration is in order.
This is the first day in my new co-working space in Barcelona, where I’ll be living for the month of May. Then I’ll move to Prague, then Berlin, Split, Belgrade…then on to various cities in Southeast Asia, Australia, and South America. This is the beginning of my journey with We Roam, a travel program for people who can work remotely.
I started this blog in January, before I knew that We Roam (or similar programs like Remote Year, The Remote Experience, etc.) existed. I wanted a side project, an outlet apart from work, and I envisioned Girl Flies Solo as essentially branding (gah, I know, that word is becoming terrible) what I already do: travel a lot, often alone, date, have random solo adventures.
Then in mid-February, I clicked on an article in AFAR: Working Remotely Is Now Easier Than Ever, and it felt like I’d opened a portal to a new world. I fell down the internet rabbit hole, reading blogs and Reddit threads, trying to learn more. By the end of the month, I’d decided I wanted to sign up for one of these programs, and by early March, I’d committed to join We Roam in May.
I knew after I visited Anguilla that I wanted to travel more this year. After four years in New York, I’ve grown a little weary–fighting with the crowds on the sidewalks, going back and forth with my friends’ Google calendars to schedule drinks, seeing the same guys pop up on all the dating apps. This program is more than I could have imagined or hoped for when I contemplated “traveling more.”
I don’t believe in fate or god or any forces that are guiding the universe; I think our experiences are random. But sometimes, if you’re lucky, the random bits of the universe collide to give you exactly what you need.
So I’m off on an adventure! I’m lucky enough to have a job that’s perfectly suited for this kind of controlled madness and a boss who recognized immediately what a fantastic opportunity it is. We Roam sets up housing and co-working spaces in each city and moves us from place to place, so all I have to do is get my work done and enjoy every new experience.
Before I left, friends and family tossed out their hypotheses: I’ll never come home. I’ll be traveled out and exhausted after six months. I’ll fall in love with a man. I’ll fall in love with a city.
I don’t know what the year will bring–what I’ll see, everywhere I’ll go, or whom I’ll be by the end. But I’m excited to find out.
This is the first day in my new co-working space in Barcelona, where I’ll be living for the month of May. Then I’ll move to Prague, then Berlin, Split, Belgrade…then on to various cities in Southeast Asia, Australia, and South America. This is the beginning of my journey with 
