The Beginning

Hi there, everybody. I know we haven’t actually left for this incredible adventure yet, but every trip begins with the planning–unless you’re the spontaneous sort. If you are, I applaud you. I, however, like to be organized and prepared to the point of…. well, I like to pack about two weeks before a big trip, in any case. I did this last summer too, right before I left for my freshman year at Valpo. I had painstakingly packed the ‘really important stuff’ in boxes and  piled them up in my room, while shoving the ‘everything else’ into my closet so my brother could take over, when there were still three weeks left of summer. Safe to say I was a bit excited. Even safer to say that I am more excited right now than I can remember being in my whole life. I’ve packed and repacked my suitcases, trying to figure out how to keep my things under 50lbs for the checked bag and how to shove the rest of it into a carry-on bag that MIGHT be an inch over the regulations, but I’m hoping to get away with it anyway (*crosses fingers*). Those suitcases are standing up in the corner… so the extent of  my ‘stuff’ looks like this right now:

… And it’s been like that for about a week already. Whoops, guess I’m trying to make the next few days go by faster so I can finally get to England. It’s hard to describe what England means to me…. There’s a moment in the life of a child where you realize there is one place in the world you want to go someday, more than you’ve ever wanted to go anywhere before. There’s a moment when you realize that the world is bigger than your backyard, your city, your state. There’s a moment when your eyes are opened to how big, complex, and exciting the world is, and all of a sudden you are gripped with wanderlust. You begin to ravenously devour books about the wondrous places the world has lovingly developed over the course of history, of the people who have lived before you in places you’ve never seen. And soon, soon you realize that one place has held your attention for longer than the others—one place that your heart is firmly set on seeing. For me, that place is England. I suppose, more broadly, it would be the United Kingdom, because Ireland and Scotland are part of it too. But England—England is the place for me.

I hope I get to explore more than see–I don’t want to see England the way every other person who goes there sees it. I want to experience it, authentically and truly and dirtily and scarily and all that comes with knowing where you are. I want to see the things no one else sees, the beautiful scenes that take place far off the well-worn path and the moments that happen to occur far from the normal tourist traps. Don’t get me wrong, places like the Tower of London and Buckingham Palace and the British National Museum are on my list of ‘must-sees’ too. But I want more than that (… and now I sound like a Disney movie. The Little Mermaid, anyone?). I want to see the little things.  Being a tourist has always had a bit of a negative connotation for me, and I’d rather live there than just visit. That’s why I’m staying for so long, even though I know it’s going to be difficult. Nine months away from home is a long time to prepare for, so I’m just going to have to accept that there are some things I’m probably missing. But as long as I have my wanderlust and sense of adventure (along with a bit of common sense, of course), I won’t be missing anything too important.

Although I have to say, I’m gonna miss my phone.

With love, excitement, and wanderlust,

Bryn