I want to get back to explaining what it feels like to be a backpacker. Well, at the start anyway. For me at week 1, it was mixture of constant disbelief that what I was living [my life] was real. This made me incredibly happy and fulfilled. However, my state of awareness and alertness was at an all-time high, which left me feeling exhausted. I was strangely irritable, maybe even a little sick, and collectively lost. Mentally, emotionally, and physically: lost.

I realize that this is probably not the case for a true backpacker, but I am a regular person and willing to admit my faults. I’m not someone — gasp– who always goes with the flow. For all the daydreaming I do, in my every day life I am a planner. Not knowing what to expect and feeling unprepared for anything makes my heart race. Letting go of a schedule and accepting that feeling lost is not only inevitable, but normal, was my biggest challenge in the beginning. And now looking back: how could I have expected to not feel a bit out of place when I was in fact, out of place (Hometown, USA)?

All the research and information you can gather will never fully prepare you for actually being there. I learned that the hard way. But getting to this “place” where you are comfortable not knowing exactly where you are or how to get where you’re going will happen for you. It took me one week and the city of London to get there.

One week may seem like a quick turn around, but try to imagine how fast and drastic the change to your life was when you stepped off the plane and put on your backpack. This wasn’t subtle. You essentially plucked yourself from the habitual life you held for several years and landed into this like a character in RollerCoaster Tycoon. Instead of knowing that you’re heading to work and only have to decide between “Am I going to the gym today or laying on my couch to watch Say Yes to the Dress for the rest of the night?,” you now have to make decisions all day which range from the stupidly mundane to those of utmost importance.

What sights do you want to see first? How will we recoup our budget if we splurge on this? Should we take the metro or walk? Can our feet handle that walk? Is it safe? Where will we eat?

The dreaded question: Where will we eat?

If you’re with a travel partner, or worse, your significant other, you have to decide 3 or more times per day where you are eating. You know how difficult this is at home? Where you know all of your options and how to get to each of them? Hah! I doubt I have to explain any further where I’m going with this.

But I digress; some of these decisions may sound simple, but can become extremely stressful when mixing in the dilemma that you are (most likely) only going to be in this place once in your life and –put nicely– don’t want to screw it up. There will be things you miss and mistakes that you made but you can’t let this overwhelm you. I guess what I’m trying to say is that by virtue of the crash course you’ve just put yourself on, you should have a little faith. Making all these choices so quickly and at such a pace, you will become accustomed to it, and basically have to, to survive.

In terms of feeling physically lost: obviously you are in a new place but you are not lost. Do your best to enjoy where you are. Tell yourself- I am in London… at Buckingham Palace! I am in London and that is Big Ben! And the Parliament! How many times have I seen these in movies and now I’m here—seeing it with my own eyes!? Do it over and over if you have to. Take deep breaths when you feel your heart start to race. And let your partner know, too. That way they can keep tabs on how you’re feeling and also do what they can to help. There is no reason to let something take away from the pleasure of traveling and always keep in mind that it will get easier.

The culmination of all this will be a story. Ryan and I were staying in the lovely neighborhood of Soho for our first two nights in London. We chose a nicer restaurant since we were in the mood to have a real dinner and wanted something we couldn’t easily eat at home. After rummaging through “Nearby Restaurants” on Google Maps, Rosa’s Thai Cafe won out. It was packed when we reached the entrance and had to wait in the pocket-sized lobby for 20 or more minutes to be seated. Everyone inside was chatting and cheerful. There was a bar across from us without an open seat or even room to stand. Every time a new customer was coming in to meet friends or ask for a table, we had no choice but to shuffle around so that we could all even fit. The ambiance in the place was exactly what you want in a restaurant. You could feel that the diners were not only enjoying their food but also their lives. All while we were standing there, however, I couldn’t help but think that everyone in Rosa’s knew I didn’t belong. Like I was in the way, and like I had no business being in this lovely local restaurant with real local Londoners; enjoying their Tuesday evening and incredible smelling Thai food.

What was wrong with me? After what seemed like an eternity, we were seated, and treated just like anyone else was in the restaurant- with respect and hospitality. We ordered a Coke to share and water (backpackers’ delight) and our dinners. Shortly thereafter, we became the cheerful and chatty people in Rosa’s. I stopped looking around at others to see what they must have thought of us and realized they were simply enjoying this and we should be, too. It was a turning point for me in our trip. I no longer felt like a foreign person in a foreign place. I was no longer lost. I felt present and happy in the company of my travel partner and knowing I didn’t have the answer to all of my anxiety-provoking questions. The worry had simply melted away, and I belonged. Somehow, one simple meal was all it took. Ryan and I had become real local Londoners; enjoying our Tuesday evening and incredible smelling Thai food.

I still have the receipt to prove it.