Pray for Adventure
Stories of travel adventure, life changing pilgrimages, solo female traveler tips, romance, airport debacles, expeditions to find thy true self, suitcase misadventures, and more...
Solo Travel...Changes You.
About this time last year, I embarked on a life changing trip sailing the Greek Islands. The trip revealed a deep need to change my fast-paced, stressed out, harried lifestyle. I returned to the U.S. and spent the coming year creating a new way of life, removing multiple extraneous activities from my schedule, simplifying my routine, making time to do what I truly love with those who truly matter. I changed my thinking, asked for office help, cleared clutter from my home, and carved out large chunks of time for rest, doing nothing (literally), and social activities. Done deal, right? Nope, the life lessons continue…
Part II happened in Spain. Last month I spent eight days in Madrid and Ibiza- about two hours into my flight across the Atlantic, I felt a second round of what began in Greece beginning to brew again. A few months prior to this solo travel adventure, I started praying about the trip and sensing the words, true colors, true blue, true you, the real you, replaying over and over like a favorite tune on repeat.
I discovered the mysterious meaning to this “true colors” phrase while sitting in an isle seat, softly smiling as I watched A Star Is Born on my little seatback television, when I saw a man stand up near the exit row to stretch, and he began conversing in a jolly tone with his family. I watched as they laughed, joked in Spanish, and generally seemed to be having a rip-roaring jovial time on this overnight flight. I smiled, and thought to myself, “Huh. That looks like a cool group and a nice person, someone I’d desire to know.” Wait…Did I really just think this? Hannah, the “less of a people person,” and “more introverted now,” who usually expends excessive energy seeking time alone?
It hit. I realized…Somewhere along the line, I forgot the importance of relationships. Friendships. Community. Social circles. Forgiveness. I forgot how to genuinely smile. I forgot how to let God’s love flow freely in and out with others. I allowed my relational wounds to shape me into a person I am not. Several years ago, I withdrew, claiming introversion, and hunkered down within a protective shell, avoiding social interaction and frequently needing to muster quite a bit of energy to smile in professional settings. In my twenties, I used to be more bubby, outgoing, and talked to nearly everyone. (Probably to the point of being one of those annoying overly-perky people.)
So what happened along the way to cause a more reclusive tendency?! Built up hurts from “people” jaded my true colors, marring the painting’s original brilliance and burying who God made me to be. Harsh words and demands. Angry human beings. Betrayal and compassion fatigue. Broken trust, unrealistic expectations, pressures, and inadvertent condescending remarks. Those who went back on their word, disrespected my “no.” Failed relationships and strained relations. Broken promises. Heck, even driving on I-25 is enough to make a person hole up and avoid the world. Add to this my ten year on-and-off struggle with panic attacks, heaping more onto the “just avoid social situations, I’m not a people person anymore, I’m an introvert now” jargon. A month prior to Spain, I began feeling an unfamiliar emotion…Loneliness. A hunger for interaction. What was this about?!
And in that isle seat flying to Madrid, probably 2am Colorado time, I learned to genuinely smile again. God gently drew a line in the sand from my past, dropping a great capacity within my spirit to love again, despite hurts. And throughout the trip, He continued to restore the painting to its original brilliance. The true Hannah is extroverted by nature. I really am a “people person” by nature. I desire to show kindness to others, allowing goodness to flow out, and joy to rush in. Life must be shared. Experiences must be shared. We need relationships. We need each other.
We need social interaction regularly, especially us extroverts- perhaps that includes chatting with strangers on the plane, telling someone on the bus what a cute, well-behaved kid they have, or striking up conversation at a coffee shop with a person who sparks our curiosity. We are designed for human touch, and at least for me as a Christian, this is a vital part of my representation of Christianity. Relationships and loving others- the crux of it all!
Of course, boundaries must come into play, we need to carefully choose our true friends, and remain cautiously distant if a person drags us down. And I’m not saying to let just anyone in, be best friends with everyone, naively assuming good intentions all the time, or to avoid time alone at all costs. I’m just saying…We extroverts need interaction. And others need us.
As a result of “coming out of my shell,” on the trip, I found it easier to smile. I wanted to smile. I met another single female solo traveler on my flight to Ibiza with a fabulous sense of humor. I met a wonderful group of Indians on a boat outing who all just wanted to dance, marvel over the crystal clear blue water, laugh, and lay in the sun. I connected with a girl from Israel at my hostel (spoiler alert: The next destination!) and a lovely woman from Switzerland who corralled two guys from Poland and Romania, and we rented a car and went beach hopping all day. I spent an evening in fascinating conversation with a guy from South Africa, and met a girl who went to Colorado State University who practically traveled the whole world, fearlessly teaching English in multiple countries. I sipped wine with a handsome gentleman who also went to Indiana University (where I went to art school), and chatted in broken English with my very sweet roommates from Korea. My protective shell broke. And the whole world opened up.
But this doesn’t mean I didn’t revel in quiet time by myself in Spain! I spent wonderful afternoons wandering through cobblestone streets and treating myself to smoked salmon, fresh olives, and mozzarella cheese with rich red wine. I listened to moving music by street performers, stood before master works of painters, and watched the world go by while journaling at local cafes. But I also booked a catamaran excursion, which upon arrival I discovered no one else joining. Perhaps a little too much time alone with my thoughts that afternoon, this revelation over the importance of relationships sunk in deep. You can be on a million dollar boat, but if no one else is with you…Especially for the extrovert, it loses its meaning, its luster, its joy.
Friendships and acquaintances will be my greatest source of deep happiness, and my greatest source of pain- but in those painstaking moments, my Christian walk comes into play with forgiveness. Choosing to love my enemies. Choosing to remain open despite a difficult phone call or nasty remark, knowing not all humans will mistreat me. Choosing to surround myself with positive people, smile genuinely, and be a light rather than hiding away. The importance of encouraging others, being a friend to others, and being there for others. Doing things for others. Empowering and uplifting, bringing life to relationships.
For the normally cheerful extrovert, it takes a tremendous amount of work to restrain our true colors, cap our joy, and a painful amount of effort to maintain a façade of fake smiles, keep up the act, pretending constantly to be happy when in reality we need to deal with our wounds. It took work being something I’m not. It took work “avoiding people.” It took energy to wrestle with the person my hurts shaped me into. I exerted myself maintaining a life God never designed me to live, constantly swimming, pulling hard against resistance, as if trying to win a race in thick water, heartache causing unnecessary extra struggle and extra weight dragging me down during my race.
If you subscribe 100% to, “Its too people-y out there today, I don’t think I’ll go out,” I get it. Well, maybe I don’t. I’m not going to sit here and pretend to “understand” what you’ve been through in life or how you’re uniquely wired, but I hope to at least offer some empathy and compassion. I’m convinced our deepest regrets, pains, and aches come through other humans. But so do our best moments and the greatest acts of love.
Our greatest frustrations and heartaches imparted by friends and family, yet simultaneously here we all are, still on dating websites, getting married, loving on children. Planning barbeques and sending postcards because we miss each other, Skyping and buying plane tickets to visit family. Volunteering in the midst of floods and hurricanes, church planting and going on mission trips. The elderly man who tips his hat, smiles, and opens the door for you ladies. Or the young man who glances at you while you’re in full-blown “distressed traveler mode,” and quickly offers his seat on the bus or lifts your suitcase into the overhead bin for you.
In the midst of this wild wooly mess of relationships, I decided to focus my efforts on learning to operate in my true colors once again, rather than expending energy on walking through life as someone I’m not. Stripped of old, fading, jaded color, God restored the painting to its true brilliance. True blue. True colors. The true me. Travel changes you, and somewhere through all the adventure, mazes of train maps, boat excursions, and hostel life, I found connection, meaning, and truth. I know relationships will take work, but on the other side of effort, lies reward. Fulfillment. Perhaps seasons of tearing away, but balanced with seasons of cherished friendships and experiences connected to others and shared. Get on that boat with others. Share it. Watch the world open up.
The University of Travel: A Personal Testimony
May 26th, 2012. I disembarked the massive British Airways jetliner and set foot in a foreign country for the first time by myself as a single female solo traveler. Two years prior I blissfully soaked up seven days in Puerto Rico (still U.S. territory) with my significant other at the time, my excitement levels equivalent to obtaining a driver’s license at sixteen and going for a joyride in the family Jeep. (Not that I’ve done this.) Puerto Rico opened my eyes to wondrous travel possibilities and vivacious living.
But in London, I now felt like a small fish in a vast ocean, embarking on the first of many trips overseas. Listing all the lessons learned, wisdom gained, and educational opportunities while abroad would fill pages, just like my treasured travel journals filled with late night scribbles of the day’s escapades. Within the confines of a blog post however, a few highlights come to mind. Although challenges within my career, spirituality, physical body, or relationships consistently present tremendous opportunities to grow, stretch, and exercise faith, the act of globetrotting produces a unique set of life lessons learned… Only acquired through travel.
My first jaunt through an ethnically varied immigration line at Heathrow Airport opened my eyes to other cultures, religions, and customs. I gradually became accustomed to diversity, and in exchange, felt a new sense of poise and confidence as I gained experiential knowledge of different nationalities and emerged from my sheltered naïve shell. And personal conversations with acquaintances of differing religions opened my eyes to perspectives beyond what news channels could ever teach me back home.
Paddington Station, a massive metropolis-sized train station downtown London, introduced me to feeling like a small fish in a very big sea, the world at my fingertips and the sky being my limit. I started dreaming on a much bigger scale after this.
Taking subways the wrong direction, the right direction, too far, too long, or purchasing tickets for the wrong line taught me to press through confusion and fear. I learned perseverance, persistence, rather than melting into tears, emerging on the other side a much stronger woman.
Bungling my high school French revived lost language skills and eventually spared my neck while hopelessly lost (and sick with a gnarly sinus infection) in Paris. Booking a tour of Spain inspired me to enroll in Spanish lessons, begin utilizing my language skills in the workforce, diligently review flash cards, and to boldly practice speaking with my Latino friends.
Witnessing pick pockets on the subways of Madrid generated a new sense of awareness, watchfulness, and discretion. Losing my way in Playa del Carmen, Mexico and experiencing several men’s attempt to lure me (as well as my travel mate) down an alleyway educated me in the art of street smarts and diligently observing my surroundings.
Timidly asking strangers, hotel clerks, and transportation workers for directions instilled an ability to trust myself. Blundering into St. Germaine, France without a plan taught me to…Well, plan excursions and accommodations.
Journeying through Holland, Belgium, and Austria on a tour bus with trip mates from New Zealand, South Africa, Australia, Canada, and the UK obligated me to figure out how to embrace social interactions outside my familiar shell of comfort while fearlessly fostering new friendships. Sharing a six-bed hostel room with other foreign travelers pushed me into brazenly figuring out how to quickly make new connections.
Exploring a twelfth century castle in St. Goar, Germany permanently instilled a greater thirst for adventure. Riding a bicycle (for the first time in twelve years) through the streets Munich with forty tour mates to a German beer festival (without a helmet, travel insurance, or experience with city cycling) infused my heart with a new level of desire for risk-taking quests in life. Not that this was the smartest way to go about it.
Gazing up at the Vatican produced a sense of awe, fueling my desire to seek out opportunities to stand in wonder, amazement, and reverence before marvelous works of art and architecture. Pausing before works of Monet, Picasso, Van Gogh, and Rembrandt produced a new appreciation for art history, the value of art, and revved my creative engines.
History came alive while touring Anne Frank’s house in Amsterdam, wandering through Winston Churchill’s “War Rooms,” and breathlessly laying eyes upon the Statue of Liberty, quietly imagining what it would have been like to be an immigrant in search of a country filled with freedom, opportunity, and hope.
Puerto Rico uncovered my passion for Latin dancing, and Barcelona’s rich culture inspired me to try Flamenco classes. On a “Dancing With the Stars” theme cruise sailing through the Cayman Islands, Bahamas, and Jamaica, my dormant dreams to perform with a dance team sparked to life after competing in the cruise’s dance competition, reviving those hopes and desires.
In Athens and Lisbon, I learned how to live a slower-paced life, eliminate unnecessary stressors, and simply how to breathe once again, how to relax. The trip uncovered my true heart’s desire for my art vision, radically altering the course of my creative destiny.
In Spain, I found myself on a deeper level. I discovered my color, red. I discovered a sense of coming home to a place I’d never been, a DNA test later revealing some Spanish ancestry. I unearthed my personal sense of fashion while perusing store after store filled with vibrant reds, black lace, and trendy unique outfits slightly above Colorado’s sometimes ubiquitous, more casual selection of clothing. I discovered the true Hannah.
Traveling to Paris pointed me towards my style of home décor, modeled after chic French countryside. Sailing to the Greek Islands, Hydra, Poros, Spetses, introduced me to my cooking niche. Simple recipes comprised of fresh vegetables, fruit, nuts, the tart taste of lemon, rich olive oils, creamy feta cheese, an assortment of fish, and of course red wine. I finally began enjoying cooking after discovering Greek cuisine.
Plunging into a bitterly cold ocean on the beaches of San Sebastian, Spain with two Australians and a Canadian in late September launched my thirst for spontaneity, not to mention spur-of-the-moment outings to dance discos, and some secretive late night skinny dipping.
Overseas romances plunged me into a plethora of life lessons: Go for the top, the best. You just might get it. Let him pursue you, yes…But go after what you want. Make it known, perhaps not blatantly, loudly, or obnoxiously, but with tact, subtlety, and discretion. But go for it. And when it doesn’t work out…Trust that you wouldn’t have wanted it to work out anyways! Not to mention, kissing a beautiful Spanish man in Seville on the dance floor makes for entrancingly juicy stories on your next Girl’s Night back home.
I learned long distance dating isn’t glamorous. I learned to seek romance rather than dry, dull, monotony. And if rich olive skin and dark eyes are your “type,” well then…Its okay to unashamedly know your preferences. God knows about it and He’s into the details for your future mate. Lastly, a fleeting fling “just while in Europe” will go with you and the rest of your baggage right back to the States. So count the cost for your heart and emotions’ sake.
Reaching the Swiss Alps after journeying across Europe ignited twinges of homesickness, creating a new appreciation for Colorado’s Rocky Mountains. Not being able to drink tap water in Cancun, Mexico or even flush toilet paper in Athens produced a thankful spirit within me, realizing all I had taken for granted in America. At the finale of every trip, I find myself longing for home. I begin missing my family, friends.
Traversing thousands of miles offers life experiences capable of molding us to a truer version of ourselves, forming us into individuals with unique perspectives, causing us to find ourselves in the midst of strange territory and hopefully come back with much to offer the world in return. Many of my most educational experiences have occurred while overseas, travel being a wise teacher capable of revealing hidden treasures within. I encourage new international trekkers, it teaches you about life. Yourself. Other cultures. Book the trip. Just go! It’s the University of Travel.
True Colors, True North
Nine years ago, I bemoaned to a friend about no international travel experience. He gave me a piece of great advice: Go to one new country each year. Imagine all the places after twenty or thirty years! That year I went to Puerto Rico, tasted my first true adventure, and never looked back.
Those of us travel addicts understand the insatiable desire to discover new places, constantly adding a new destination to the dream list as soon as checking off another. We know about the burden of not being able to live a lifestyle conducive to frequent travel (as in…every month, anyone?!) and unexpected life expenses pulling from hard-earned vacation savings. Sacrificing eating out, busying ourselves with a side-hustle or second job, and longingly pouring over past trip photos to the point of tears. I get it. Adventure runs in our blood. Travel reveals an innate hard-wiring for it.
The desire to explore, see new places, study other cultures, reveals a common thread of purpose and lights the way to dreams. Perhaps it involves working at a local orphanage in Kenya or passionately learning to preserve life’s natural resources or endangered species. Maybe travel means a mission trip or a soul-rejuvenating vacation so you can go home and be a better version of yourself. Reasons and personal purpose behind journeying around the world vary for all of us, whether it entails personal growth, finding ourselves, helping others, or a complex conglomeration of multiple motives.
Getting down to the nitty gritty, to quote the beloved Anthony Bourdain, “Travel changes you. As you move through this life and this world you change things slightly, you leave marks behind, however small. And in return, life- and travel- leaves marks on you. Most of the time, those marks- on your body or on your heart- are beautiful.”
Personally, I travel because…Well, I’m obsessed with it. It makes me come alive. I get to do and live my passion, my dreams. I adore telling a visual story with the camera, occasionally dabbling in black and white film photography. I spend hours editing pictures for months on end after a trip. I love learning about other cultures, gaining new perspectives, allowing travel to reset my disordered soul and toss up boring routines. I meet people from all over the world, let God’s light shine, and write about the journey. Yet another Anthony Bourdain quote sums it up, “Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you- it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you…Hopefully, you leave something good behind.”
What is your dream worth? Is it worth pushing through fear? Making sacrifices? For a long time I yearned to see the world but circumstances tied me down, whether an issue of time, money, paid vacation hours, fear, no travel buddies, perceived ill-timing, or simply seeing international travel as “out of reach” and somehow an extremely difficult huge deal. I remember a large map of Europe from a National Geographic magazine hanging in the bedroom of my first apartment, unfolded and taped onto a piece of black poster board. I recall placing my hand over Europe and fervently praying, “Please take me here!” In another instance, I begged God while kneeling at the alter one Sunday morning to take me around the world. He put that dream there, and He made a way- but it was up to me to properly manage a savings plan, get my passport renewed, ask questions, research, and begin to see this as a doable lifestyle even if it meant only one country per year. And rather than limiting myself to one place annually, some years I now venture off to multiple countries, while other years require laying low.
Its worth the planning, sacrifice, pushing through fear, going in spite of fear, and strictly budgeting. Its worth it, to step out on metal grating atop the Eiffel Tower, a childhood dream vividly leaping off picture books into reality in a matter of flashing moments. To sit with feet dangling perched on a cliff, overlooking the Greek Islands, evening sun dazzling across rolling ocean and breathlessly wondering how a place so beautiful possibly exists on this side of heaven. Its worth it to be able to venture just beyond coral reef while quietly balanced on a paddle board, where curious whales mosey their way over, majestically rising for air and flapping a fin as if to say a friendly hello right beneath you.
Worth it, to stand amongst ancient ruins or unwind at a pub Charles Dickens frequented years ago. To taste the best espresso of your life, indulge in French cheeses and decadent matchless pastries, or skip meals to sit in the magnificent presence of holiness within a cathedral. To marvel over works of Picasso, Degas, and obscure street artists. To go from flamenco shows to dancing all night in Valencia, swimming in the ocean under a full moon, savoring abundant flowing wine for three Euros, and did I mention the beautiful men? Potential international romance options abound. London. Paris. Munich. New York, Honolulu, and Anchorage. Barcelona. Playa del Carmen. Beckoning us travel fanatics to discover a city’s hidden gems, hole-in-the-wall pubs, Bohemian markets, off-the-beaten-path photo opportunities, as well as main attractions.
“Always leave a reason to go back,” a recent former airline pilot acquaintance advises me. I began changing my thinking after hearing this, always trying to do everything while visiting a new place. Whilst I never wish to see certain less-fortunate parts of this world again, so much beauty and wonder beckons abroad. Yet, those of us from the United States probably know that feeling of shameless “kiss the ground” syndrome upon landing back on American soil after a few weeks of jet setting.
So here we are. I spent seven years blundering around trying to find my “vision” and “why” for Arise and Shine Studios, only to discover the answer residing within me all along. To find my passion, I pursued just about every other subject matter, from weddings to babies, portraits to families, seniors to pets, leading me in a long roundabout back home to myself and true dreams of pursuing travel photography, a 35mm film camera, telling stories, and making an impact on the lives of single solo traveler women. I looked everywhere to discover my niche, only to realize the validity of my own hopes and desires waiting to be uncovered, laying dormant during those seven years.
I stopped forcing my art to make money, quit chasing after mirages of what looked like an assured road to success. I ceased creating “sellable” ubiquitous paintings and running after a vision within the confines of other photographers’ approval. I tossed dreaded photo sessions and started paying attention to how my soul responded to suffocating my true colors, smearing my heart’s true north. Not worth it. I redefined my purpose based off the simple act of doing art, whether or not this whole thing flies. Now I am happy. I have peace. I feel deep joy, I feel alive. And to me, this…Is success.
And you know what set me down this path? Travel.