I’m not going to lie to you.
I came back from travelling the world with about a tenner left in my current account. Just enough to buy a bagel at London Paddington after I’d stepped off the Heathrow Express because I was totally jet lagged and wanted nothing more at that precise moment.
But, as I sat at my friend’s floor later that night eating my bagel and finally totting up just how much I had spent over the last nine months I realised that I had no regrets whatsoever. The searing feeling of panic I thought I would experience just wasn’t there.
Then, the other day I had said moment. I more than freaked out about the fact that I’m 23 years old, still living at home and my bank account is, well lets not talk about my bank account. The less said about that the better.
The more I thought about it though, the more I realised that travelling, at the risk at sounding incredibly cliché, has given me so much more than money could ever buy.
It pushed me out of my comfort zone and into the vibrant streets of India, the glorious temples of Thailand, towards the bright lights of Las Vegas and the laid back mind set of New Zealanders. As they would say, it was seriously sweet as.
Questioning whether I was really happy and dropping everything to travel the globe with a 23kg backpack is the best thing I’ve ever done. It made me realise that life is about far more than the material things. Because realistically, you can’t take that stuff with you when you die.
I strongly believe that life should be about the places you see and the people you meet. The experiences rather than things you have during it that have the power to shape you as a person.
So go for it, pack your bags and see the world! Even if its just for a few days you’ll create memories that last a lifetime. Surely that has got to be worth something?