Today a memory popped up on Facebook and reminded me that it’s been one year since I set off on a month long solo trip around the South Island of New Zealand and all morning I have been thinking about that first day. I had traveled alone frequently, almost always for work, never for such a long trip or so far abroad, but I knew what I was doing.

I got off the plane in Auckland around 11pm after about 18 hours of traveling, tired of course, but I had booked a hotel right next to the airport so I didn’t have far to go. There was a shuttle every 30 minutes that went to the nearby hotels, so I got my luggage and headed over to join the huge mob waiting. There was one shuttle already packed and enough people still waiting to fill at least one more, if not two. There were signs indicating a 20 minute walk to my hotel, so I figured I’d save the time and money and give my legs a stretch.

It was the middle of the night, I was bogged down with luggage, tired, and in an unfamiliar area…not the smartest decision to make right off the bat. I quickly got lost and after panicking and fighting with my luggage for a while, remembered my phone had service. GPS was spotty, but it eventually figured out where I was and got me on the right path. When I finally got to the hotel around 1am, the receptionist looked at me like I was insane (which I deserved) but got me into my room.

The next morning I headed back to the airport to catch a flight to Christchurch. I had a couple of awkward airport interactions and still felt like I wasn’t in the travel groove yet, but I managed to get my rental car and to my hotel without too much trouble. By this point it was somewhere after 2pm and I realized I hadn’t actually eaten anything since arriving in the country! I found a small shopping center with a few restaurants, but the only place actually open was the sports bar, which looked like a dive, but I went for it.

I walked in and had 10-15 people give me the same crazy look that I had received the night before: I was about 30 years younger than everyone and definitely not a local. The bartender asked me if I needed help and when I asked if they had food she said just snacks and toasties. I had no clue what a toastie was, but I was starving so I ordered one, got a pint and found a seat outside. I was starting to seriously doubt how I was going to survive a month on my own when one of the locals struck up a conversation. After asking where I was from and why on earth I was eating at that dive, we had a great conversation with a couple of the other locals and I got some great suggestions for the rest of my trip.

I had felt like a bumbling fool, but after food, beer and some human interaction I realized that was exactly why I was there. I wanted to push myself, learn as much as I could, and soak up the experience, even if it wasn’t always comfortable. I also realized that without food and sleep I was capable of some potentially bad decisions, and since no one was there to say, “That’s an awful plan!” I needed to take care of myself.

I spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the Botanic Gardens, and after a bit of sun and relaxation I decided to make my first grocery trip. Once again I felt awkward when I realized that I had gone in the out door and had to fight the herd to get a basket with my arms already full. Then I got to my hotel and realized I had forgotten crucial elements; oil for cooking, peanut butter for my PB & honey sandwiches, baggies to carry those sandwiches. As I ate my dry sauteed mushrooms for dinner, all I could do was laugh at myself, but I knew I would enjoy the adventure!