A travel blogger that really does suck at traveling. Over the last year or so, it’s come to my attention that I do not hold certain qualities that great travelers possess. For someone who has traveled a lot, I’m not that great at it and maybe shouldn’t leave my house. As I grow older I keep learning things about myself and usually, they make me realize I’m an old cranky woman who likes cats. This could mean I very well suck at traveling.
I will never dull down the adventurous hunger inside me, but these following realizations made me laugh.
5 reasons why I suck at traveling:
- I hate people. Not all, but the vast majority. I was standing in a queue last week and I observed my fellow humans and how they interacted with one another. 99% of them were rude and treated those in customer service as if they were a piece of shit on their shoe. The longer I’m on this planet the more I realize how shit most parents are to raise such inconsiderate people. When I travel, I spend most of my time cringing at the bohemian dressed youth with a backpack who feel like they can talk to locals however they want. The massive crowds and obnoxious tourists do nothing for me; I prefer to be left alone. This pertains to the majority, but I have been lucky enough to find a few gems that I still have in my life. Most of them were acquired during intimate conversations and mutual respect for others.
- I suck at languages. My Afrikaans teacher will forever be amazed that I passed my final year because I am appalling at languages. I’ll always give it a go and fail miserably; those easy phrases stay in my mind for all of 3 minutes. With this in mind, when I drink I still think I’m fluent in 98% of all languages ever invented, much to the dismay of my taxi driver.
- I suck at reading maps. I blame Google Maps for making me a lazy bitch. Where the fuck is east? I was recently appointed Hike Master during our holiday in Cape Town and maps literally make me stress buckets.
- I suck at being stylish. As a travel blogger, I always beat myself up that I basically always look like I’m about to take a yoga class when I travel. I see these photos of stylish travelers with high-wasted shorts and a ton of accessories. How the fuck they feel comfortable, I don’t know. Walking around a train station with a massive bag whilst holding up my strappy crochet top would drive me insane. Those beautiful travel pages can kiss my ass; I need my yoga tights and vests.
- I don’t eat weird food. Call me crazy, but the idea of food poisoning doesn’t make me want to book a ticket. I’ve witnessed many friends hug a toilet (from both alcohol and food) and it always makes me want to pat myself on the back for sticking to safe items on the menu. When I ask my friends why they ate the scorpion soup, they always say ‘to say I’ve done it’. Hmmm… my ego will survive without that addition to it.
Who wants to travel with me? Haha! I’m an awesome travel buddy, I promise!