Archive for July 23rd, 2006

I Hate Making Plans

I just made reservations at a really cheap youth hostel . . . the problem is that there isn’t any AC. And, according to lao-ocean-girl, the weather’s sure to work up a sweat.

So I’m waiting for another hostel to email me back. I’m also emailing two guesthouses–they’re out of my budget, but this is my vacation, and I won’t buy souvenirs this time.

I hate making plans. When I first bought my tickets, I thought, Wow, I’m really spending my summer vacation in Japan . . . I am so awesome. But now there’s all this print and online research, getting shot down by hostel owners, worrying about whether or not I can get through eight days without eating meat, worrying whether or not I bought enough batteries for my camera, worrying about whether or not I’ll get lonely . . . now worrying about the heat, and if my hostel has a shower.

Did I just reserve a bed in a single room or mixed dorm? I don’t know . . . I’m tired. Just pat me on the tush and send me on a plane already.

When I was interning in London four years ago, I was never stressed. Maybe because traveling around Europe is easier than it is in Asia. Most likely because I don’t have Mama and Papa footing the bill this time.

On one summer holiday I visited Paris and didn’t even have a place to stay. Fortunately, my friends had told me about a youth hostel in Montparnasse. I walked right in and got a room in five minutes. I bathed by splashing water on my armpits, straight from the sink near my bed. Sat at the window, gazed out at the people below, clad in my underwear, fanned myself with my tourist brochure. Wandered around, ate almond croissants for four days.

For my 21st birthday I took a bus to Scotland. This time I actually reserved a bed in Coldingham. But when I arrived in Edinburgh, there was an international film festival taking place . . . I got so excited that I decided to stay for one night. The travel agent at the bus station couldn’t find any rooms, but at the last minute someone canceled. So I had one night in the capital and got to watch dirty films with subtitles.

I guess I was too impulsive, or lucky, or stupid–call me what you find most appropriate. Now I’m older and don’t believe in luck as much.

Yet I do miss the days when I was reckless–when I could afford to get lost, call my parents, cry a little, and eventually get back on my feet.

UPDATE: Found a hostel with AC! Yes! Have booked, and feel loads better.


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