Welcome to the true story of a twenty-something guy who’s quitting his job to travel around the world on a shoestring budget, alone, with only a rough plan, no idea what to expect, a dash of trepidation, and a lot of excitement.
Who am I?
I’m a 27 28 year-old hailing from Indianapolis, Indiana. I quit my (good) job and my (also good) relationship to follow a dream and travel around the world.
I went to Indiana University, graduated, and have spent 4 years doing graphics, animation, and visual effects work.
Why am I traveling?
“Why?” you ask? The short answer, dear reader, can be summed up in a melodramatic quote that, according to the internet, Mark Twain wrote:
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbour. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”
Ooh. Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s cheesy. It sounds cliche. It contains nautical references. (I’m only kinda sure what “bowlines” are.) It’s exactly what people like me are supposed to write in the damn “About” page on their I’m-quitting-my-job-to-vagabond blog.
But, somewhat self-conscious romantic that I am, I buy it!
I’ve been wanting to do this for years. I’ve been downright inspired by the previous brief travel that I’ve done. I’ve always found really good reasons to put it off. However, couple the potential amazement and adventure of the trip with the lurking fear of future regret and you’ve got a perfect storm of get-off-your-ass. Word.
Inspirations:
- An off-the-cuff drive to Mexico where my best friend and I ended up in a public dating game surrounded by 300 Mexicans laughing at us. My “date” who ended up cooking me dinner and showing me around town. I even drank the water.
- The enthusiasm I felt for about my first trip I took alone where I met about 100 new people over the course of a week.
- Being unnecessarily scared with my brother on a train to Prague from Strasbourg, France without a map, our hostel reservation, or a change of underwear. Here’s a copy of the blog entry I wrote about it if you’re curious.
- Travel disaster story compilation books. Such as Lonely Planet’s “Unpacked” or “There’s no Toilet Paper.” Or even reading things like this, as written by one of my two heroes, Seth Stevenson, from his series Trying Really Hard to Like India:
You will get “Delhi belly” soon after touching down in India. And you won’t enjoy your trip until it’s gone. My illness takes hold on the train ride back to Bangalore, as my intestines suddenly spasm into a clenched fist full of acid. The restroom—should this come into play—is a hole in the floor of the train. (A sign on the door requests that we not use the hole while the train’s in a station—for obvious reasons.)
For the next day or two, I find myself playing a game I call “Could I Vomit in This?” The idea is to pick a nearby object and then decide if, in the event of an emergency, it could be puked into. For example, potted plant: Certainly. Water bottle: Sure. Magazine: Iffy, but worth a try.
- There are undoubtedly a lot of intellectual and reflective reasons for doing what I’m doing, but those aren’t as interesting to read about. Maybe I’ll get more pensive down the road.
Overall, I love the absence of order and I also love meeting people in dive bars. Give those two a one-way plane ticket and you’ve got a rough framework of what I think this trip might be.
So why the hell not?
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