The Painful Side of Backpacking

First things first, let's define what exactly backpacking is and who does that. The term backpacking stands for a form of low-cost, long-term, independent travel that typically involves carrying all necessary possessions in a backpack (and a few carry-ons, as you eventually realize you need more than three T-shirts, two pairs of shorts, and flip-flops). Since backpackers are likely to rely financially either on their savings, foreign income, or working holiday visa, it is a lifestyle mainly chosen by people from privileged passport nations — me included.

Through the glamorized lens of social media, backpacking might seem like a never-ending vacation, stripped away from all the daunting realities of daily life. Every day can bring an unexpected adventure, every month brings a bunch of diverse connections. And each morning, there is the option to pack your stuff up and leave for the new unknown once the current place is not serving you anymore.

It is easy to get hooked on the idea that once you start backpacking, all the problems will magically fade away. However, as I have learnt, backpacking does not equal vacation in the slightest. Apart from the ever-present thought of keeping my budget as tight as possible to be able to afford the next flight, the next accommodation, the next visa... there is something I find more challenging than anything else,

and that is to live in the constant state of goodbyes...

Living on the road is essentially about pursuing one's true authenticity since there are no past brackets anyone can put you into. You are truly stripped away of any outer expectations, apart from, maybe, the culture you come from. But even that gets re-evaluated by others, so you start realizing what parts you identify with and appreciate, and what not. Time runs differently too. One month can be so intense it feels like a year. And so, you pour everything out of yourself into the connections you make, aware that this too is only temporary, since your paths will eventually lead you away from each other.

So you better skip the warm-up phase altogether, as you get straight into the depths of your souls, sharing any story, any desire, without the fear of being judged. You may have been brought up in different countries, even continents, yet the connection goes far beyond any past conditioning. I have been told that such bonds are rare as we get older. However, they happen somewhat effortlessly while travelling. It is like you are given a family far away from your own.

You meet people unexpectedly, and you meet many of them. Therefore, your intuition gets sharper each time, so you are able to tell very early on who is just a polite visitor passing through, and who is the potential expander of your existence.

On my first ever backpacking trip, I signed up for volunteering in Bali. I came with little to no expectations into a mosaic sanctuary far away from the busy touristic zones of the vibrant south coast. On my second day, I met this Uruguayan girl, Sofia. At first sight, her look and mannerisms reminded me of my really good friend back home. Overall, there was something about her which I found familiar. The connection happened instantly. We spent a whole month living and working together, and grew closer and closer over time as we drew parallels between each other's lives. When the time for me to leave came, I shed more than one tear — although I knew deep down we would see each other again.

That happened about half a year later, when I visited her on a little island in New Zealand. What was meant to be a week long holiday has turned into a year. Thanks to our unexpected connection in Bali, I have got to live in this part of the world, where I met people, who are like a family to me now. It's even hard to imagine there was a time I didn't know them. So it happens, that a year and half later after our meeting, Sofia is still influencing my footsteps.

As I am writing this, my time on the island is coming to an end. The road is calling again. And honestly, there are times when I'm thinking that goodbyes take too much out of me to go through it all over again. People tell me that I will get used to it, but in all honesty, I hope I will not. I think that the emotional turmoil I experience is, in truth, a reflection of how deeply touching the connection was — and I never want to become numb to that.

By now, I have accepted that saying goodbye is never going to be easy, no matter how many times I go through the process. What brings me peace these days is that true friends will stay side by side no matter how many miles apart, and the memories will never fade away.

As my friend Nico said, "the bond has been already made".

And all the tears in the world worth it.

I love you all.