aeroplane wing

For me, the anticipation of travelling is more stressful than the travelling itself. Once I’m through security and dragging my lightweight bag through the airport I’ll be in the zone, the travelling zone, and as long as nothing goes wrong I’ll be fine. Hopefully I won’t have to think on my feet at all, because I’m terrible at that. Panicking and crying is more my method for dealing with trouble.


I also have that paranoia of checking that I haven’t actually done anything illegal before I go through security. Part of me is slightly worried that a gun or bag of cocaine will materialise in my luggage while I’m not looking, and I’ll be arrested and detained in a Colombian prison. I’ll either die or thrive there, and I’m not sure which option is worse. When, during my first ever week of university, the police knocked on the door of my student flat I had to keep reminding myself that I wasn’t the person they were looking for and that I’d done nothing wrong. Hey, there’s always the possibility that I have a split personality who does terrible things without me knowing.

aeroplane wing

On Saturday, I’ll be jetting off to Colombia. A relatively short flight to Madrid, then a ten and a half hour flight to Medellín where I’ll stumble out at the airport and be taxied to a hostel where I can collapse. It’s times like this I wish I could teleport, how easy it would be to just pack a bag and blink to a destination. Long journeys aren’t so bad though, it’s just keeping down the irrational panic of being stuck in a metal box with no option of escaping for over ten hours. My claustrophobia is mild and rarely strikes, mostly because I’m tiny and there are few spaces small enough to trigger it. Still, it’s the thought that I’m stepping into a place I won’t be able to leave for a long time; but hopefully it’s nothing a book, phone games and perhaps some alcohol won’t cure.


Yet I know it’ll all be worth it in the end. Thailand was more than worth the fifteen hour flight there; I gained experiences I’ll never forget, found out that I was much braver than I’d previously thought and most of all, I found that I was capable. Showering elephants is probably much harder than showering sloths, but I’m sure that this particular animal sanctuary will have its surprises and challenges. Sloths may not be dangerous, even if they tried, but it’ll be an adventure all the same. That’s if I get there, of course. Let’s hope I don’t have a doppelgänger who’s a notorious criminal in Colombia. 

About the author

A chronic idiot with a passion for travelling and writing and travel writing, Rosie graduated from Cardiff University with a degree in English Literature and a Masters in Creative Writing. Whilst she aspires to be the next Virginia Woolf, Ernest Hemingway, Dr. Seuss or E.L. James, Rosie prepares to enter the adult world and become a responsible member of society. Both of her university degrees go toward making terrible jokes, rambling blog posts and reading the popular literature that we all feel obligated to read. When she’s not sat in front of her laptop, Rosie can be found just about anywhere. With Iceland, Thailand, Barcelona and Belgium under her belt, there’s still the rest of the world to experience.

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