We are privileged beyond measure. We are amongst the top 4% of wealthiest people in the world. We have the luxury of being able to quit our jobs and not work for over a year. We can travel through dangerous areas, knowing we can bail and take a flight at anytime. We are incredibly lucky – to have been born in Europe, to supportive and relatively wealthy parents. Of course, we worked hard and saved to get where we are, but nothing can get over the fact we have had opportunities some people can only dream of.

So, what happens, against this backdrop, when you start getting the travelling blues? Because, at the end of our three and a half months in Mexico, I was not completely happy with our trip. In fact, I was feeling pretty low. Well, the reality is, it doesn’t really matter what your background is – if you’re sad, you’re sad. Yes, perspective can help, but we all need to work through our issues, regardless of whether we’re spoiled white rich kids or not. And, I want our posts to be honest – and I’m sure other people have been through similar low points on ‘trips of a lifetime’. So, I’ve pulled together some of my thoughts on what was up and the strategies we’ve put in place to solve things. I wouldn’t say things are completely solved, but they have definitely improved.

What’s been wrong?

It was difficult to pinpoint what exactly was wrong, but I think it was a mix of the following:

1. The heat – It is really hot. Stiflingly hot. Days on end of 38 degrees and 90% humidity. It’s sweaty, it’s relentless and it’s really uncomfortable. Yup, the blue skies look lovely in the photos – but the reality is, de-icing the inside of our van in -15 in Alaska was more of my bag. We’ve both been struggling, and hot Holzners = irritable Holzners. Which leads us to…
2. Irritable bickering – We approach difficulties slightly differently. I like to talk about things, Konstantin likes to think about things (preferably in silence). You may notice, this doesn’t necessarily always gel. When we’re not hot, sweaty and irritable, we adapt and are patient with each others personalities – I try and shut up, Konstantin tries to chat. But, there’s nothing like getting blinded by your own sweat for five hours to make you lose any level of composure. And, the reality is, we have spent almost 24 hours a day together, 7 days a week for the last year. That is is a LOT of time with one person, however much you love them. So we’ve been winding each other up, and as Konstantin has astutely observed – ‘we’re on the same page, but not the same paragraph’. And all of this has not been helped by…
3. Konstantin being ill and not knowing why – his inflamed lymph nodes and a general feeling of tiredness have been hanging like a spectre over our plans. Not knowing if it’s something serious, not knowing whether we should keep cycling and not feeling in control of things has been quite tough. And then there’s been…
4. The cycling, only cycling – I love cycling. I used to cycle to school everyday, to university, and then to work. It’s by far my favourite sport. BUT, cycling in the heat is not that fun. Cycling on busy roads with crazy drivers is not that fun. And, well, the plan when we had the van was for the trip to be about so many sports – hiking, mountaineering, canoeing, yoga, snorkelling, diving, swimming, climbing, and maybe some cycling. The shift to bikes has made it a much more mono-sport trip, and, a slow one at that…
5. The ‘speed’ of cycling – One of the beauties of being on a bicycle is it slows you down. You see the in-between, you spend lots of time at cool roadside cafes talking to locals who are amazed at what you’re doing, and you stay in towns that barely see a tourist. BUT, it also means when there’s 500km between one amazing spot and another, it’s going to take you at least a week, where a bus takes a day. I think it’s taking me sometime to adapt to what our new form of transport means, and what our priorities are for the trip now its fuelled by pedal power. And of course, the obvious…
6. Missing home – I love Europe. I know distance and time can give you rose-tinted glasses, but my God I’d love a pint of cider in a pub garden after a long hike through the countryside.

Konstantin has been feeling a mix of the above too, but, as mentioned, he doesn’t like talking about his feelings. The thought of writing them down and publishing them in a blog post is his worst nightmare, but hey, I’m happy for you to know the realities of our situation.

So, what have we done?

Firstly, we needed to solve point 3 – Konstantin being ill and not knowing why. This wasn’t as simple as just going to the doctors. Well, it was that simple, the problem was getting a doctor who could do more than just prescribing rounds of antibiotics (two rounds hadn’t really changed things). There weren’t really any in San Cristobal or Palenque, and our next stops (Guatemala and Belize) didn’t have the greatest reputations for healthcare. Anyone who had money in those countries headed to the Yucatan Peninsula. So, we adapted our plans and took an overnight bus to Chetumal, just north of Belize. There we met Doctora Jenny who gave Konstantin a full check up and some blood tests. They all came back clear and she was confident it was just the end of a particularly stubborn viral infection. He would be back to full health within 2 weeks, and, well so far so good, he’s been feeling a lot better and it’s having less of an impact on our plans.

Secondly, we couldn’t really do anything about the heat (it’s the tropics in May, it comes with the territory), but Belize gave us the perfect backdrop to shift our approach to the cycling. Shorter distances and flat terrain  (easily covered in the morning before it got too hot) made the cycling fun again. And, Belize had a lot to see, so we ended each day at another cool tourist attraction – giving us opportunities to hike, watch birds, and swim in gorgeous cool waterfalls. Having this ‘activity diversity’ reignited the flame of what I like to do while travelling. When someone asks us what our highlights have been so far across our whole trip, they are almost always outdoors based – hiking in National Parks, canoeing remote lakes, camping in cactus field. But mainland Mexico was a lot about cities. Beautiful, culturally amazing cities, but cities all the same. Belize reminded me that I’m at my absolute happiest in the wild. Reigniting that spark has made me excited again about planning our trip through more wild places.

Thirdly, in the comfort of a nice air-conditioned room, we’ve talked about things. About what we want from the trip, how much it is about cycling and how much it is about seeing the world (no firm conclusions, but we definitely are on the same page, and almost on the same paragraph). And, we’ve talked about why we’ve been feeling how we’ve been feeling and what we can do to help each other feel a bit more comfortable with the heat, with the trip, and with each other. So far so good. Konstantin has even just about reluctantly admitted that talking is good (“Yeahhhhh, I know it helps, it’s just so hard talking about feelings, why can’t we just read each others minds”, Quote Konstantin May 2018).

And finally, I have given myself a bit of a ‘spoiled rich girl’ kick. We are so incredibly privileged to be doing this trip, and I really do need to make the best of the opportunity. Yes, pub gardens with cider are amazing, but they will be there when we get back. I know that once we’re in Europe I’ll be wondering what the hell I was doing being even slightly sad on this trip of the life-time. So, rather than lamenting what-ifs, I’m writing them down in an open letter to myself – a little log of all the things I missed to be opened when I’m feeling any level of post-travel blues. And so now, I’m making an extra special effort to live in the moment – and, if it doesn’t fit or feel right, we’ll adapt again.