Go, go, go!

by Sophie Dellagiacoma (Australia)

A leap into the unknown Mexico

I was two weeks into a four month round the world trip, the I-just-quit-my-job, I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing-with-my-life kind of trip. I like to call it the ‘just graduated’ life crisis. Next stop: Mexico. As a seasoned traveller, this was my highly anticipated first Central American country. If the culture, food and beaches weren’t enough to already draw me in, there was one final standout experience. Swimming with whale sharks. During the months leading up to my trip, my work had been so mind numbing I’d had time to extensively research the places I would be exploring, bookmarking the off the beaten track experiences, the ones that truly make you think about the way you see the world. The only prerequisite: if it scared me, do it. It was time to face my fears. I’ve always been a seemingly fearless girl; in the sense that I seem this way because common phobias don’t scare me easily. Heights? The euphoric rush I feel looking out a plane window to the tiny houses below is proof I’m all good with that. Spiders? I grew up in Australia, we know how to handle these bad boys. Don’t get me wrong; I think the two things I’m most scared of are common, however, they’ve been suitably avoidable throughout my life. Fear number 1: being alone. I was well on my way to conquering this one by simply booking the four month world tour with me, myself and I. Did I feel nervous? Yes. Anxious? Probably more than ever in my life. But I knew this was something I had to do because travelling the world had always been my dream. I remember sitting in the school library while everyone else was reading Harry Potter and I was reading books on ancient Egyptian artefacts or food in Morocco, excited by the thought of having the freedom to conquer this overwhelmingly vast world on my own. I wasn’t going to let a simple fear get in the way of this dream. Fear number 2: the open ocean. This one is harder to conquer because it involves a higher level of willpower. No one can force you into the open ocean, there are many ways to get out of this situation. Or so I thought… One of my favourite things about travelling is the way it makes you question how you view the world and challenges your comfort level with the way that things are. Those moments you share with others around you even though you may be from different cultures, speak different languages and have experienced the world in ways the other could not imagine. This is the situation I found myself in in Holbox Island, Mexico on my way to do something that absolutely terrifies me. I found comfort in the fact that our guide, the other tourists on the boat and myself with my close friend do not speak each other's languages but we’re about to be connected by an experience which overpowers our need for verbal communication. We’re on our way to see the gentle giants of the sea; whale sharks. As the draining summer sun beat down our necks, we’re motoring along in a dingy with only the sight of the open ocean stretching out on the horizon when suddenly the motor stops. We drift along for a couple of minutes, seemingly caught in some kind of Mexican doldrums. Everyone onboard is silent while our guide is scurrying around the edge of the boat and peering into the water. Suddenly, the level of chaos and panic was at an all time high, our guide was yelling in Spanish pointing at the water. And my basic Italian was not helping with the translation. All of a sudden we heard, “Go! Go! Go!” and our guide had jumped off the boat and straight into the seemingly endless abyss of deep blue ocean. Time was getting away from me. There was no time to remember my fears, no time to explain to anyone that what lies beneath this barrier between life on land and under the sea absolutely terrifies me. So I go. A leap into the unknown. A leap into fearlessness. A leap I’ll never forget.