True story: I hate every new place that I visit.

Okay, maybe hate is a strong word, but after a long day of traveling and being uncomfortable and not getting enough sleep I have very few fucks left to give until I’m finally in the place I’m trying to get to. 

(Sometimes, however, that hate is justified - see awkward photo of me and stalk of corn who looks pretty baked - don’t worry, a post about this oddity of a place is forthcoming.)

It doesn’t matter how awe-inspiring and unique these places are, or how excited I am to get to my final destination. Eventually, I just hit a wall and need to just get where I’m going (like someone else I know does when spending the night out drinking… if you’re reading this, you know who you are!).

After I’ve checked into the hotel, or gone grocery shopping so there’s some actual food in the AirBnb, or finally used a bathroom that is not connected to a gas station or a smelly should-have-been-cleaned-a-week-ago porta potty, or just sat down for a minute not on a moving vehicle and got some real authentic delicious food from wherever in me, only then I can I start to enjoy myself and really appreciate the new place that I’m in.

Here’s the thing that everyone knows but that people who love traveling, like myself, choose to pretend isn’t a thing: traveling is tiring. 

By the time I get to a brand new place, I’ve usually been traveling for at least several hours on a shitty sleep the night before because I was so excited about said travel and/or waited until the last possible minute to pack (and I take absolutely forever to decide what clothes to bring, so packing is never a five minute thing with me). 

I also get hangry, which is only exacerbated by the aforementioned shitty sleep. I normally take snacks with me everywhere (like, I literally keep snacks in my car in the event of a hangry-emergency) because I know this about myself, but sometimes I just need an actual meal on solid ground instead of sitting on a curb in the middle of bumblefuck somewhere while waiting for the car to charge.

Tourists usually irk the fuck out of me while traveling. They tend to stand in the center walkways in airports and not realize (or care) that they are blocking streams of oncoming people traffic - same goes for Manhattan tourists, by the way, who love to stop in the middle of a busy sidewalk to gape up at the skyscrapers around them and then wonder why New Yorkers seem unfriendly to them...; they repeat things over and over again, and say them progressively louder (but still in English) in the hopes that the poor person at the kiosk in whatever non-English speaking country they are in will suddenly be able to understand them more clearly at an elevated volume; and just generally they usually have no concept that they are not the only ones on the train/plane/bus and give zero fucks about eating something smelly/arguing loudly with their other family members/complaining about something to people who can’t help them/etc. 

New cities in general are confusing af and the rules of the road are unclear - unless you look them up in advance, which I literally never do because what would the fun in that be! Can you make a right on red? Is that weird flashing light a left turn signal? Where can you park without getting a ticket? Do people actually issue tickets here or are they more just guidelines? Does everyone routinely go 20+ over the speed limit here or is that asking for a ticket? Are radar detectors illegal? 

Never mind the traffic, the weather in new places can sometimes be unpredictable and a standard weather report can mean nothing If you don’t realize the 88 degree temperatures will come along with 80% humidity until the wee hours of the morning, or you don’t notice that there’s typically a 25 degree temperature drop between day and night on any given day. If you’re someone like me, who for whatever reason only has a ‘comfort zone’ of about 10 degrees, you’re constantly asking the questions: do I need a jacket?, are my feet going to be super hot if I wear sneakers and socks all day?, will my sweatshirt fit in my bag that I plan on schlepping all over this new place I’m visiting?

And finally, something always gets fucked up somewhere along the line when you travel. Maybe the hotel can’t find your reservation because you accidentally booked a hotel by the same name but in a state two over from where you are (true story, by the way). Or maybe the weather forces cancellation after cancellation of your flight until you consider driving to Michigan for a wedding that supposed to take place in 18 hours when it will take you 14 to drive there if you don’t take any breaks. Or maybe even the cool Mustang you paid for and reserved is magically unavailable and you end up getting an adorable Kia Soul instead for your multi-state road trip. 

Luckily though, I’m the kind of person that knows enough to give a new place a chance, even if my initial gut reaction is “omg get me out of here.”