By Seine
I wanted to travel, and I wanted to go far. I decided on Southeast Asia because it checked the first box—plus it was cheap, and I heard it had good coffee. For five and a half weeks I backpacked through Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, and Laos, hitting over seventeen cities and staying in more than twenty hostels/homestays. I wasn’t alone—sixteen British girls joined me, and they became my best friends.
In this blog, I’ll walk you through a few moments I remember clearly.
I cringe as the sweat runs down my neck, knowing when I rise from the seat, I’ll leave a pool. It’s 2:30pm, the fan is putting up a sad fight against the aggressive Asian sun, and I feel dirtier than I ever have before. The travel day began early, and sitting on the fourth sardine-style-packed bus of the day, I dream of AC, clean clothes, and space. But, as I look out the window—carsick—the tea fields of Vietnam are just as beautiful as they always are. Lush and green and sparkling. And my friend Sophie, who sits next to me, is ready to show me a funny Reel, or hold out a bag in case the third pack of Oreos decides to come back up.
Another moment I remember vividly is being in Laos, when another one of my friends, Matilda, suggests a 7/11 run. It’s twelve thirty in the morning, and the store is a twenty-five minute walk away. She gathers a group who’s willing to go, I agree, and of course we get lost on the way back. We’re panicked, and crying, and eventually someone calls our hostel and we get back an hour later. We collapse on the floor of our room with our snacks, still shaking, full of mosquito bites and laughing. I think it was the feeling of relief, or maybe all the sugar I had just eaten, but I had this realization like I had found my people. My friends were all around me. We were going through this experience together. I couldn’t wait to debrief it the next morning.
What my gap year has repeatedly illustrated for me is the concept of nuance. The recognition that multiple truths can coexist. You can be uncomfortable and still have a good time. Ready to puke and still enjoying the view. Disgustingly dirty, tired, and lost—and still incredibly grateful for the friends around you. I didn’t get through any of it alone.
There’s something about going through the same mess as someone else, at the same time, that connects you. Traveling isn’t always glamorous. But, the hard parts are always worth it, because the good ones don’t happen without them.
And, it’s a lot easier to survive the hard parts when someone’s sitting next to you.
Bag in hand. Just in case.
