The Travel Feeling

As I have said on in previous travel articles, that I do not consider myself to be the most travelled person however I do categorise myself a little travelled. 15 countries in 4 years. Humble brag but again plenty more people have been to plenty more countries than me so I know I’m not the rank of travel Jesus . Regardless I love to travel and go to as many countries as I can.

I honestly love being away from home. Don’t get me wrong I fucking love Scotland and am far too proud to be from the sexiest of sexy countries, but I find there’s more to life than just staying in Scotland. I’m sounding like a bit of a hypocrite but think about it when you’re going travelling you tend to go far away from your own country. Well most people do. Despite how much beauty there is in Scotland I tend just feel like it’s still more like home and no Scottish person from outside the west coast is going to be like ‘holy fuck I am in Kilmarnock, how amazing’. I’ve always been of the view that I can come home to Scotland at any time and see all of my home country whenever I want too. The rest of world I can see as well when I want too, the world isn’t going to just pack it’s shit up and go on a gap year. Right now I’m in the golden years of being able to get a working holiday visa as (at time of writing) I’m only 22 and most countries you can’t get a working holiday visa past 30, which is a huge motivation for me to get away from Scotland and utilise the chance to work and travel.

I’ll probably write more pieces on travel for Loveable Loser and go more in depth about my travel desires. However. One of the things I love most about travel, and is the reason why I’m sitting here typing away on my iPad in a laundromat in Canada (as my clothes are in the washing machine) is well aye laundromats. I love a good laundromat, hearing all the clothes spin and staring into my reflection wandering what my life has become. Not really (aye shite patter I know).

One of things I love most about travelling is the ‘Holy fuck I am actually’ here moment. I can’t tell you the official term but you all know what I’m meaning. Even if you’ve no been abroad and you’ve only experienced it locally or in prison you’ve for sure experienced it before and fuck isn’t it a good feeling? Saying I live for the feeling won’t be too far off the record. I don’t live for a huge amount but girl I live for this feeling. It’s the best. It piles your excitement and makes up for every single minute you had to hear that fucking bastard of a thing known as toddler cry and scream for during a flight.

When that feeling sneaks through it’s the ultimate form of excitement. When I was going to live and work in Australia for 8 months I had a lovely wee 14 hour flight from LAX – main airport in Los Angeles for all you non travel wanks – to Melbourne. Pretty rough flight for most people. It was made even more rough by the fact I got on the plane and they kicked us off 40 mins later and cancelled the flight because of maintenance issues and the next flight was 24 hours later. Which was more of a bastard than having someone use your favourite mug without washing it. Since I was last person in line to get a accommodation for the night sorted I ended up not being able to get a room, and got gifted a shitey wee sheet explaining if I found something downtown under a certain price I can get my money back. Shite. To be honest I wasn’t that bothered as I love a good wee slumber party in the airport and it meant day in LA which I hadn’t been too at that point. So aye anyhoo shit went down in LA, I fell asleep in a fast food restaurant and aye slept most of the way to Melbourne, roughly 11 out of the 14 hours I was due to spend on the plane. Regardless of how much you sleep 14 hour flights take it out of you a lot. I was tired as fuck and had to wait another few hours to get the poverty wagon to where I was going to be working and living.

I pretty much sat in McDonalds and discovered the absolute gift to the world that is a McDonalds chocolate pie, basically an apple pie but patch the healthy pish and shove some chocolate in there (if anyone is able to direct me where I can find these again would be much appreciated).
The second I stepped out the airport I saw the Australian flag and the big ass Melbourne sign (the big letters that a lot of airports have to remind you the city you’re in) that feeling hit me. Nothing else mattered to me from that moment on until I got to where I was staying and working, all I was thinking from there was ‘holy fuck I’m actually here, I’m actually in the land down under where the women glow and the men plunder’. Top patter I know. Even when I got off the poverty wagon, not knowing exactly where I was and waiting to be picked up on the side of the road like the good lady of the night I am, I was still buzzing off my man boobies and nothing else mattered.

I have had this feeling numerous times when I’ve travelled. When I first arrived in Japan, the first time I saw Times Square, being at the Hockey Hall of Fame in Toronto, being at the summer camp I work at for the first time are all moments where the feeling has stuck out the most to me. There have been times where the feeling has been overwhelming like when I was inside the PPG Paints Arena in Pittsburgh fulfilling the life long dream of seeing a penguins game in Pittsburgh and it’s also been more of a somber and emotional feeling like when I was in Oswiecim, Poland visiting Auschwitz.

Everything you’ve been thinking of, the stress of sorting everything out and fuck even your own life problems just go away at those moments. It’s the most freeing feeling in the world. I advise you all to chase that feeling regardless of the scale of it.

Swankie – 23, Scotland. Founder of Loveable Loser

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s