Before we dive in to the good stuff – what we do, where we go, what we eat – I wanted to give some background on why we’re doing this crazy thing, and highlight some of the emotional evolution that’s been happening.

Long term travel has always been a dream for me, and was cemented each time I took a trip to somewhere new. Packing my belongings in a backapack and setting out for a year-long adventure to explore exotic and far-flung locales was the romantic ideal. It also gave me a place to tuck away new daydreams or moments I’d like to experience, that I could later page through like photo highlight reel: soaking in an onsen in Japan, wandering the souks in Marrakesh, or sailing on the crystal blue waters in Thailand. Each idea tucked into the dream was a snapshot that I wanted to string together in an epic adventure.

I spent a lot of effort day dreaming, but not a lot of effort planning beyond the list of things I’d like to do in the list of places I’d like to go. The timing was never quite right – after college I did a year work-study in London, but that wasn’t quite the dream. I could have gone right after that year, but then what about Dustin? We were trying to get jobs and start careers, so it wasn’t quite right either. Later will be better. And eventually last year, I realized that later would always seem better because it would be easier. Actually going would present hurdles and challenges and work; wouldn’t it be easier to keep on with the happy status quo? I had what my mother calls my “turning 30 crisis” (which to be clear, will happen next year), and decided that now was the time. It was now or never. I also knew deep down that never was not an option, because I’d be 103 on my deathbed and think to myself “you know, I never went on that dream adventure, and I have regretted it everyday. I wish I had gone.”

With some wonderful advice from my friend Christina, Dustin and I started talking about how we could make this work (it started as “if we could make it work” and evolved to “how” over the course of several months). Dustin and I have traveled together, and have always found it a rewarding experience. Our relationship is stronger because of it. There is nothing like being hot, exhausted, and completely at the end of your rope with someone you love and in that moment testing the relationship. When you make it out the other side, you both have a deeper understanding of each other and your relationship.

After much discussion and debate, we prioritized a list of places we’d like to visit and how much time we could reasonably make work. This trip was never intended to be a complete shift in lifestyle, abandoning our carrers and becoming digitial nomads. It was always a break – an adventure stuck in the middle of the live we had built – where we would return to our home, our friends and family, and our careers. With that prioritized list and a rough idea of what we wanted, we spoke with our family, arranged leaves of absence at work and booked that first flight to New Zealand. It was real – there was an actual date and we needed to start planning.

We spent a few months of ironing out some details, and I thought we were well on our way. I was discussing it with familiy and friends, making sure our vaccinations were up-to-date, taking care of other mundane things, and so I thought it was real. However, on my last day at work is when it truly became real – that the packed bags in our bedroom weren’t just a test run for something in the future, but the bags we were going to grab Sunday morning and bring with us to Newark airport. When I handed in my keycard to my boss, and said goodbye to my friends at work, I nearly had a panic attack; I frantically thought to myself, “what have we done? What insanity is this? What made us think this was a good idea? There’s no way I can do this.” I was scared that all the sceptics and doubters were right – that “people don’t do this,” and since I fall into the category of “people” I should not be doing this.

Whether or not I was prepared was irrelevant. Since I had paid for a plane ticket, I was going, ready or not. After Thursday, that weekend was an emotional roller coaster, a combination of panic, anticipation, homesickness, and excitement, with a little abject terror thrown in. Then I realized that those emotions, in particular the fear and uncertainty, are exactly why we are going. If it were easy, it wouldn’t be worth it. We are going to push ourselves out of our comfort zones, to test ourselves and see just what stuff we are made of. It is the only way to grow. I believe that the core of our personalities will stay the same, that I will always at heart be Katie O, but we can always be better versions of ourselves; we can put ourselves through the forge and come out stronger. I do not anticipate five months on the road to change the fundamental parts of my being, but I do expect to grow, challange myself, and become stronger; to learn about and grow the best of me, and learn to change some of the less desirable things. If we bring nothing else home, because we were scared and challenged, we will bring home some new perspectives.

When Dustin and I came back from a three week trip after our year in London, he framed a painting he bought in Greece, with photos of us from our trip that now sits above our kitchen table. He included the J.R.R. Tolkein quote “It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.” It’s a fitting quote as we set off on our adventure; we are excited to discover where we will be swept off to.
-Katie