When your travel plan doesn't go to plan.

by Maxine MacDonald (United Kingdom (Great Britain))

A leap into the unknown Japan

Four months into a twelve-month trip and the limit had been reached. The joint trip we had been planning for years had ended, taking our friendship with it. I was alone and I knew it. No amount of free tea was helping as my thoughts navigated between the irrational and rational. What I had found charming about this library hostel in Osaka yesterday seemed overwhelming today. I felt small among these stacks of books and invisible to flurry of guests coming and going. The thought of walking into the sensory hysteria of Osaka city made me pour more tea. She had been the navigator, coordinator, planner and timekeeper. I was absolutely capable, but it seemed more important to her, so I had gradually stepped back and let it happen. But this was my journey now, and I had to take ownership of it. I had resented my role as a follower in my own trip, but now I felt out of practice and full of self-doubt. I had sat in the hostel all morning coaching myself to move. Should I have more tea? It was all very real, once I go out the door this chapter is done and my solo trip begins. This was never the plan. I very carefully prepared to go, quadruple checking my belongings and continuously refreshing my phone for the ten-minute walk to the train station. Put the tea down. Deep breath. You’re scared, do it anyway. I left, scrutinising Google maps for the entire walk there. When we were here yesterday, she said the train to Kinosaki leaves from the downstairs platform. I thought otherwise but had followed her judgement. I scanned the screen for the platform and asked again to be sure. Ground level platform. I had been right. As petty as it might have sounded that seemed to be enough for me and the light switch went on. If I listened to myself, I would be okay, actually, I might even be right. Sitting in the pristine carriages of the bullet train, I noticed a familiar feeling that I had at the beginning of my trip. Travelling fast and hard had made me weary, I would scroll on my phone or catch any opportunity for sleep and had stopped appreciating where I was and what I was doing. But as we sped through the Japanese countryside, I found myself gazing out the window, no sense of time, no care to know, feeling that cosy warm feeling of what I describe as contentment. The Onsen town of Kinosaki was the very distinctly Japanese experience that I never knew I needed. I checked into the Ryokan, clumsily dressed in the provided yukata (kimono) and wooden geta and clip clopped my way to my first Onsen experience. With my pass I visited four Onsens out of the available seven, becoming less anxious as the day wore on. The final Onsen of the night, Satono-Yu, has a beautiful panoramic view from the outdoor bath. I found myself there alone, during the middle of a particularly prominent display of thunder and lightning. I floated in the pool looking up at the sky, feeling the rain tapping at my face, the warmth of the water, watching the lightning dance above me. I thought back to the start of my day. I had no idea what tomorrow might look like but that seemed okay now, not knowing reminded me of what I did know. Myself. I carried on with my solo trip and, in fact, extended it and continued travelling for another year. I changed my plan so often I forgot the plan, made lifelong friends, and created memories for many lifetimes. I took myself out to dinner with a glass of wine, hitch-hiked, couch-surfed, scuba dived, climbed mountains, meandered through markets, and got lost with my camera. I did what I wanted and allowed myself say to no without guilt. I experienced both a joint venture and a solo adventure, and I wouldn’t change a thing. To push yourself and learn can be scary and unsettling. Acknowledge that, do it anyway. Leap into the unknown. Don’t wait to be pushed. It might be more familiar than you think.