Last May I was in Vienna, Austria sitting by myself in this exact park. The marathon was about to start and I was reading and thinking. You get a lot of time to yourself when you’re in a foreign country/city and don’t know anyone. I’m leaving this evening to travel to Paris, but this time I’m going with Jeff and Julia, so I won’t be alone. This will be roughly my 15th European city and they all have their feels, but this is what I wrote from the bench on that day.

There’s not much more in the world that can make you feel more alone as hearing strangers speak and understanding nothing. There’s this sense of “am I supposed to be here?” It’s clear that the city is leaps and bounds superior to where I’m from, but what does it matter if you’re by yourself? You can see all the monuments, museums, creations, but after 3 days of that, what? You can’t pick up and leave the life created. Too much invested. Drinking yourself stupid with the Aussies is pointless. You try to live in the moment, and there are moments of serenity, but it always fleets. The pendulum swings back and these few days are merely a mirage. And that feeling of being a foreigner is impossible to overcome. So you do your best, you enjoy it, and don’t let the negative, internal feeling restrict the experience.

It’s odd I was feeling like this but I undoubtedly was. Traveling can be tough and it’s even more challenging when you don’t know the language. I only stumbled across this writing yesterday I was packing which is why I’m sharing it. I’ll try to check in from time to time once we land.