After starting my school vacation by immediately traveling, I headed back home to recuperate and get ready for my next bout of traveling. My plan was to head to northern Thailand to go camping and exploring the mountains. I didn’t have a specific plan and that was so thrilling to me.

I was going to rent a motorbike and I was so excited to be able to travel around the area with the freedom to go wherever the road took me. I researched national parks, attractions and hiking trails, and downloaded maps onto my phone. I planned out what to pack inside my backpack, what would be strapped to the outside and how I would strap all of it to my bike. I got myself completely geared up and ready to be a nomad.

Nomadic life suited me. I loved driving on the twisting roads in the mountains. I was excited to explore every new place. Being on my own was refreshing and I felt invigorated. I reveled in the independence, cherished the time I spent with friends and people I met along the way, and was inspired by all the places I saw. Traveling gave me an incredible high.

What I did not prepare myself for was the come down. I had put so much time and effort into planning the trip and had looked forward to every moment of it. By the time the last few days rolled around and I was getting ready to head back, I was a wreck. It didn’t feel real. A month had passed and I had done so much but as it ended I felt like my mind couldn’t grasp it all. Amid the excitement there had been exhaustion. With every new experience and encounter there had been emotional connections. How could I just go back to my apartment and teach after living this nomadic life? Going back to a life of routine felt like a betrayal of all I had accomplished on the trip.

It was a very strange and challenging transition, one that I’m positive I will have to go through again. Packing for a trip is always exciting for me, filled with anticipation and eagerness to set off on an adventure. Whereas unpacking will forever be a chore, weighed down by depression and disappointment at the finality it brings (I always procrastinate when faced with the task of unpacking). Of course, an adventure must come to an end. This was the longest I had been consistently traveling and I underestimated how difficult it would be for me to accept it was over and re-adjust to a stationary life.

I made peace with the fact that this adventure had come to a close but I took my time getting there (which is why it took me a while to update this blog). My love of traveling has only intensified but I am so much more appreciative of the emotional toll it takes and the enormous impact it has on one’s life and outlook on the world. I have so many stories to tell from the month I spent exploring and I wouldn’t trade them for anything despite the grit and strength it took to experience all that I did.