My entire life I have wanted to travel. It wasn't until last year that that even the possibility of that dream was realized. After a trying summer, fall, and winter, I found myself lost upon the cobblestone streets of Venice, my backpack heavier than it had ever been, relying on google maps on a kindle with limited international reception to find me to my hostel. I didn't know the language, I hadn't even tried to learn words such as lost, tired, bathroom, or Fucking Christ why didn't I prepare? I didn't socialize, I was naive about everything that had to do with traveling to a foreign country.
I had been to the Dominican once, my parents paid my way for a cousin's destination wedding. I spoke enough Spanish to profusely, drunkenly hit on the beautiful girl who dealt my cards at the resort's casino. Man, this shit is amazing, I thought back then. Beautiful people, fun all the time, beaches and activities. I loved the resort style. I mistakenly understood travel to be all about fun and craziness, open bars and tour guides, I guess it can be, but not for the simple (poor) folk around the globe.
So Italy. With five hundred dollars whose exchange rate afforded me a meal or so a day, a hostel and a tour of the Vatican, I felt wholly relieved that my experience would be different than the average vacation. Two weeks to travel the country, my finger wrapped tightly from the accident that allowed me the time to take this trip. After two weeks of trains, laughs and little hardship, I came away from that vacation with a terrifying realization. EVERYONE HAS DONE THIS. College kids out getting shitfaced in Roman nightclubs, The traveling retirees staying in classy hotels and plodding along at a sluggish pace on every tour I took. Mothers with their children, playing with the pigeons in Piazza san Marco (adorable as it they may be). I traveled on the off season, so instead of running into Americans at every corner, I ran into Australians. In a nutshell, my adventure was not unique in any way. It was the experience I could relate to my friends with, their tales of studying abroad in Spain, Paris or London. It was a prepackaged experience, and though I had hardships that I endured, they were totally brought upon myself, as I'm terrible with a few things, mostly directions, time and organization.
Don't get me wrong, this was the best experience I had ever had, but it left me longing for more. So three months ago I was offered an opportunity to not travel, but live in Dubai, the shining pinnacle of the United Arab Emirates, I decided it was time to try again, this time with a little more fervor, a little more know how, and a little more adventure. This time I won't do the same things as everyone else, this is going to be my adventure, and hopefully someone will read this so I can take them along with me. This is going to be me, writing about my experiences from a totally biased perspective. Wish me luck!
