Month Five in Numbers

Month five was a new style of travel for me for this trip: slow, intensive movement mostly through two small countries (Croatia and Bosnia). It was also planned city to city, leaving it more spontaneous and open-ended. You’ll see the pace of travel has slowed down some, which gave me a needed break:

Cities This Month: 12; Total So Far: 65

Countries This Month: 4; Total So Far: 24

Countries I Ate Avocado Toast In This Month: 2; Total So Far: 19

Miles Walked This Month: 305.4; Total So Far: 1,801.7

A MONTH OF knowing laughter AND LETTING GO

Like each of these summaries, I’m going to begin with my emotional journey and then talk about the trip itself. This trip is, after all, more about discovering myself and my place in the world than it is about seeing the world.

This month caught me off guard because I became friends with a Dutch woman, Anne, in Zadar and we traveled together for three weeks. She had run away for her 30th birthday to spend it alone while traveling - only to find herself spending the whole time with a stranger. Beyond that, I had my first real taste of travel romance as we moved through the same cities for two weeks as a boy from Lyon, Johann, who I had met in Sibenik. Between the two of them, I was rarely alone.

Throughout the month, I let go of intentional growth work - and let the experience roll. I accumulated some of my wildest travel stories (though I’m going to opt not to share any of them here). I drank too much (again) and ate (far too much) of the most delicious home-cooked meals I’ve had in a while. I relaxed, took days off, and sometimes walked way too far for sights that were totally not worth it - but in good company. I just let myself exist, have fun, and try to be in the moment - while maintaining my general meditation and mindfulness practice. The result is that none of my growth work was intentional - and I’m still unpacking what I learned. What’s abundantly clear is that my growth was intimately tied to my travel companions.

Anne and I were in many ways similar - eerily alike childhoods, dark bordering on sick senses of humor, charming smiles and the general appearance of being nice, a blunt unflinching willingness to be honest, senses of self worth that were historically so co-mingled with our value to others that we spent much of our lives unsure of who we were or if we mattered if we weren’t of service to others, and similar palettes and cooking styles. But in may ways Anne was my opposite - she was in the moment to the point of being chaos, always trusting that things will work out; she was unabashed about asking for help or disturbing someone; she never made plans, downloaded maps, or had a schedule; we also would both grow hard (grumpy, detached, agitated) in the moments the other became soft (pensive, full of humor, compassionate). Anne was also like a slightly younger version of me - more disassociated, weaker boundaries with the suffering of the world, with a self-image that lacked clarity on what was her and what was the version of her she was presenting. In many ways, Anne was a perfect foil for me.

I think, most important for me from my time with Anne, was that I laughed nearly the entire month - about things that were going wrong (like watching our bus pull away in front of us), about things in my past I hadn’t healed from yet, about the things in me that I don’t yet love. I didn’t notice it as it was happening, but, steadily, weights were being lifted from me; the laughter was allowing me to heal and let go of some deep wounds that somber reflection was failing to mend. Nothing that was going wrong was sticking with me because it just became funny. I notice that I’m crying more in my meditations now that I’m alone again - having sadness I can’t quite place move through me and out.

The feeling of letting go also extended to my constant (very American) need for control - to know what’s happening next, to have a plan, to have a predicted outcome. Being around Anne, I began to internalize that her lack of structure in many ways was better; it allowed for more organic experiences, more time spent doing things that that were specific to us, more unexpected moments, and her general attitude of things will work out did turn out to be right most of the time. I began to sense that what I offered wasn’t control or a plan - but general preparedness; I would have notes, languages downloaded in google translate, offline maps, screenshots of phone numbers and directions, and a sense of what moments in time were in some way determinative - ones that if we missed would actually throw off our plans in a major way. It became clear to me that, together, we struck the right balance - my preparedness and her openness, my placing of structure where it mattered and her dismantling it where it became obstructive. As I continue to travel solo, I can clearly sense the pieces of her that have rubbed off on me; I have increasingly fewer plans, and, more importantly, less and less attachment to any given thing happening.

Anne also offered a painfully acute mirror for my areas of hubris. When she would do or say something that, to me, seemed disassociated in a grandiose way (like overestimating her ability to regulate her emotions or control situations), I would find myself disproportionately agitated. Of course, that was coming because she was reflecting something about myself - my own hubris in often over-estimating my ability to control situations, others, or to understand how people and situations are interacting. My self-soothing in these moments was reflecting on my own lack of control, in my own inability to truly predict outcomes in any long-term sense, and the general unacceptable hubris that I’ve ever felt the right to bend others toward my will. I’ve long sensed my growth toward believing that I’m no more special than any other living being - and the best that I can do in my life is try to live aligned to my values. I could feel something about this sense crystallize around Anne, though, because I began to realize I have an active distaste for myself when I position myself as superior, or when I become overbearing about what I think is right.

My romantic companion, Johann, offered a different kind of foil. In non-extreme ways, he had several of the red flags that traditionally draw me: emotionally unavailable, emotionally unaware, damaged self-image. They were present, but not in the extremes I tend to date - which more often entangle with narcissism and a lack of empathy. There were things about him that were right for me - like an ability to bring out my spontaneous side and a quiet, introspective nature - and things that weren’t - like minimal dark humor, a lack of a firy side, and not quite enough intellectual curiosity. I was in no way meeting my forever partner - but I was spending time with someone with whom I could explore what felt right, wrong, and what didn’t really matter. I can sense it began to restore my trust in myself to know what is healthy for me in dating - something that had been completely wrecked by my last few (addictive, compulsive, childhood pattern recreating) relationships. It gave me time to see that I’ve become more aware of my red flags - more able to delineate between the addictive draws of familiarity and the soft draws of safety and intimacy. It’s feeling likely that I’ll be ready to date when I get back next August.

Last, I’m also sensing the beginning of an integration within myself that I’ve been struggling with for a while. I tend to think of myself as having two types of fire: one that burns bright - energetic, wild, spontaneous, in the moment, fun - and one that burns soft - pensive, soft, calm, present. For a long time, I’ve tended to burn too bright or too soft - not striking the right balance, seeming to flick the switch between two extreme versions of myself. Alongside Anne and Johann, I began to see a convergence between the two - an ability to hold both at the same time, an ability to gradually shift from one to the other, an ability to hold both in moderation. This growth edge is just emerging, though, but I’m helpful I’ll continue to see progress in the coming months.

I’m still planning city to city, so I don’t know exactly where I’m heading. I’m writing this month’s summary from Tirana, Albania, having already moved through several cities in Montenegro. I think most likely I’ll move through North Macedonia and Kosovo next, and then end the month in Serbia.

I’ve also decided to head home for Christmas - likely taking two weeks off with family and friends, letting myself re-pack, and then flying off to my next destination. I still had cruise credit left over that would expire if I didn’t use it this year - and I found a December transatlantic cruise that fell within budget and hit many cities in Spain and Portugal that I want to go to. For the second year in a row, I’ll be spending my birthday on a cruise.

A easier, more casual travel style

Once again, my style of travel changed this month. For one, I slowed down quite a bit - and moved slowly through Croatia and Bosnia, often spending three days in small towns. For another, I was now backpacking with a companion. Because there were two of us, it allowed us to rent apartments instead of staying in hostels and to invest in really nice, home-cooked meals. Last, nothing was pre-planned - and we usually picked our next city the day before we left. It was a very different style of spontaneous, relaxed, and at points chaotic travel - a style that allowed me to spend more time in the moment and getting to know where I was.

This month, there was only one city that truly captured my heart:

• Jajce is Bosnia was just breathtaking. The historical capital and seat of kings in medieval Bosnia, the city is rich in history - but that’s not what really drew me in. This small town offers picturesque mountain views almost everywhere, has a huge waterfall right in the center, and is a 3 mile walk from two absolutely serene lakes. Plus, the stray / community dog population was so friendly that I struggled to not just stay with them. It was easy to picture a quiet life there.

As I moved slowly through Croatia and Bosnia, I found things to fall in love with in every city I spent time in. I have longer (linked) recaps of each, but I’ll give my biggest takeaways below. I put asterisks next to the ones I will likely find reason to return to, exclamation marks next to the ones I got my fill of but found thoroughly charming and worth the trip, and left the cities that were a bit less remarkable to me without anything.

• Budapest was the last city on my sprint through Eastern Europe. It has some truly incredible architecture and viewpoints - and some stunning thermal pools if you want to just relax in a hot bath for your holiday.

• What I’ll remember most about Zagreb is the Museum of Broken Relationships - a display of artifacts and stories about relationships that have ended. Beyond that, it was a sleepy but charming capital - and a pleasant stopping point on my way to the Adriatic Coast.

• Zadar! has a sea organ along its coast that makes captivating music from the sea breeze - and is easy to sit next to for hours. It’s also surrounded by so many quiet islands that there are almost too many options of what to explore.

• I was a Game of Thrones fan, so I was excited to see the filming location for Braavos - Sibenik!. What’s memorable about this city is that it’s mostly stone. Built on a stone cliff, it’s full of stone streets with stone arches - and the buildings are mostly stone. It even has the only cathedral made exclusively of stone in Europe. It makes it quite a cool place to stroll through. Plus, it’s the closest coastal base to go to Krka National Park - one of the two major waterfall sites in Croatia.

• I’m used to Roman ruins being roped off and treated as separate attractions - so I loved that they were just a part of Old Town Split!. I may also always think fondly of the older woman at the market who weighed out her produce using a balance scale and small metal weights. Anachronistic and endearing.

• I couldn’t be a Game of Thrones fan and not go to Dubrovnik! - the filming location for King’s Landing. While most things about its Old Town are mesmerizing, the standout feature is without a doubt the city walls. Preserved, enormous, and wrapping around the entire city - the walls offer awe-inspiring views of the city and the sea. It also reminded me that, not too long ago, cities had to be fortified because invasion was a persistent fear. It put some additional historical context around my modern existential angst, and made me grateful for the broad level of peace in our current era.

• Mostar! has a fascinating blend of Central European and Ottoman influences. While it’s most famous for its large stone bridge (which feels made for social media pictures), what I’ll remember was the experience of hearing Islamic prayer through speakers several times a day and seeing the way the two cultures had blended over time.

• I went to Bihac! to hike - and I got to as much as I wanted. The city has some beautiful views along its river - but it’s most noteworthy as the base to visit Una National Park. Over two days of 20 mile walks, we saw two breathtaking waterfalls and some serene riverside views. Best, though, was that it’s not overrun by tourism, so for the most part we had the views to ourselves.

• Banja Luka was a convenient stopping point - as my travel companion was going to Zagreb after and I to Sarajevo. The city was livable and forgettable. What I’m most likely to remember is its large covered market - and buying several kinds of wild, foraged mushrooms to make into pasta ai funghi.

• I enjoyed being able to walk through history in Sarajevo* - from an Ottoman bazaar to an Austrian-Hungarian city center to brutalist communist block apartments. The most unique experience of the city, though, is walking along the abandoned bobsled track from the 1984 Olympics - which has been covered in street art and partially reclaimed by nature. It’s eerily sublime.

• Podgorica is sometimes called the least exciting capital in Europe - and that’s a fair assessment. It did offer the opportunity to walk through some Roman ruins completely alone, though - a first for me.

Sometimes, the Balkans can feel like a time capsule. Their bus schedules aren’t on Google Maps, or even clearly online. Neither are all of their roads - let alone the hiking paths. The TVs still have MTV airing music videos endlessly and you can always count on catching a 90s style true crime or cooking show. Most places don’t accept credit card - so you always have to carry cash - and the Wi-Fi is persistently spotty. Because it’s not in the EU, my SIM card no longer works, so I’ve just opted to not have a phone with data. While most people do speak some English, it’s definitely less so than in the rest of Europe. Plus, it can seem like the decor is either frozen early 90s before the war - or ultra modern. The overall result is that it feels a bit like stepping back in time to an earlier era.

It’s caused me to reflect on how shielded I’ve become from life’s minor inconveniences - having to ask for directions, talk to someone at checkout, ask for the bus schedule from the information office, buy my bus tickets from a ticket counter, ask the bus driver if it’s the right bus, or ask the bakery owner what everything is. I reliably find myself in the tourist information center in each new city. And when I fail to ask for help - I end up taking the long or wrong route, or not being able to figure something out at all.

It’s left me reflecting on what has been lost in the new era of all information on our cell phones, self-help knowledge centers, mobile ordering, and self-checkout kiosks. I can tell from not having it that it’s left me reliant - uncomfortable with the unfamiliar and irritated when I have to seek out new knowledge, people, or ways of doing things. It’s also allowed me to more securely create a bubble by enabling me to not interact with people I don’t want to. Those things, I think, help prop up an unhelpful illusion of control and increase my level of attachment to my own ways of doing things - leaving me more rigid, less flexible. I tend to think of myself as more able in the modern era - but I’m beginning to see that that’s contextually limited - and that, in many ways, my day-to-day problem solving and social skills may be atrophying. I will likely have to find a new balance for the DIY internet lifestyle I’ve become so used to - because these skills I’ve been dusting off to just figure things out are important and need to be more actively maintained.

If you think anyone else would enjoy these summaries, have them sign up for the mailing list here. I’m not going to include pictures in this summary. If you want to see pictures, click through to any of the city summaries, and follow our Instagram.

LIFE ON the ROAD continues to be A LEARNING PROCESS

My style of travel and way of being continue to grow and evolve on the road. Just when I think I’ve gotten something down - a routine that works - I end up growing out of it. I’m learning to embrace that instability - letting go of my need for control or clear routine. There’s a lot of freedom in just being present for the experience. Typically, I keep notes of lessons I’m learning or things I’m thinking throughout the month. Because this month I just let loose and enjoyed the trip, though, I didn’t - so I don’t have notes for this section. I suppose this month was more about taking the journey less seriously and just going along with the experience.

I continue to be immensely grateful to have this opportunity, and to have had the courage to take the leap and do this. I am consistently feeling more self-assured and self-aware, and more at peace with my place in the world. If anything, I feel even less certain about what’s next for me after this journey than when I left - even though I had hoped I would gain clarity on my next steps. But I’m also embracing that uncertainty - and surrendering control that I can’t control and hack my future - and that to a large extend I need to just let it unfold.

I’m again under budget

If you’re wondering how much this is costing me - so far, for five months in Europe, I’ve spent $11,105. I wrote about my budget here and this spend is essentially spot-on with that budget. I’m $10 below target now, and I expect that deficit to grow some because I’m in a cheaper area of the world - even with my budget having dropped from $65 a day (for the European Union) to $45 a day (which is my allotment for most of the rest of the world).

My fixed cost budget pool ($10 a day for things like big flights, SIM cards, insurance, and supplies) is still under $10 a day - but barely. I had to buy new sneakers and shorts this month, which took pretty much the entire month’s fixed expense budget.

Recently, I’ve found that staying within budget has become easy - habitual. I’m no longer finding myself having to think too much about whether or not to buy something as I’ve grown accustomed to the kind of lifestyle I can afford. Usually, if I just live as I want in a city, I now find myself right around budget. What’s been my struggle in the Balkans is trying to figure out exactly how much cash to withdrawal to not end up with a lot leftover.

MY PACKING LIST IS ALSO HOLDING UP . . . ISH

At the beginning of this trip, I published my packing list and wrote about why I included everything; in my month one summary, I gave a pretty detailed breakdown about what I missed, what seems like it was unnecessary, and what has been surprisingly helpful. I continue to track what I use every day so I know what has been used most and what hasn’t been used at all. The trends I noticed after month one have hardly changed - though I’ve begun layering more now that the temperature is starting to drop. I expect I’ll be repacking some when I’m home in December - and I’m considering returning with a much smaller bag and much less luggage. I’ve become curious how I would do with extreme minimalism.

KNOW ANYONE ELSE WHO WOULD LIKE THIS?

I’m going to try to write up one of these summaries every month - though I’ll definitely keep working on my format as I go (so please give me feedback if there’re things you want to hear more or less about). If you think anyone else would enjoy these summaries, have them sign up for the mailing list with the submission box below.