Ugly travel is beautiful. It’s living out of a backpack for 1-2 weeks while you
circumnavigate a country you’ve never been to. It’s only carrying a passport,
some clothes that you may have to wear for multiple days, a camera (or your
phone), a notebook, hand sanitizer, some local currency, and just enough of the
language to be dangerous in a bar, a transit station, or a drug deal. It’s the dark
circles under your eyes from a 13 hour time difference and trying to sleep under
less than favorable circumstances. It’s your family thinking you’re out of your
mind for going at it alone. It’s learning some customs on the fly. It’s illumination
about using high tech toilets or just a hole in the ground. It’s showing kindness
to strangers and seeing their faces light up. It’s not having plans and adapting as
you go. It’s a long, sweaty walk to see something only to get lost, but seeing
something better. It’s eating weird delicacies from a convenience store or street
stalls down a hidden alleyway. It’s having a beer with a local and listening to
their story (even if you can’t understand it). It’s parking your ass on a bench to
watch people go to their jobs, to school, on dates, and figuring out that we’re all
the same and all want the same things.
We all want to do a little honest work that puts money in our hands so we can
have a safe place to lay our heads, go watch a baseball game, see our favorite
bands, ride roller coasters, eat hotdogs, hold hands and smile in selfies with our
friends and loved ones, and listen to country music... even in Japan.
When you ugly travel, a light bulb flips on and you quickly learn that your racist
and nationalist war noise bullshit doesn’t hold up in the real world. It’s a
realization that you’re one small piece in leaving a place better than you found it
while understanding that you’re better than when you arrived. It’s doing it for
you, not for the Gram. It’s you discovering yourself for the first time, seeking
inspiration, healing a broken heart, or doing it because your next evolution is
beckoning you to. It’s coming to a knowledge that you don’t need as much as
you believe. It’s having a quiet moment to realize how fucking lucky you are to
even exist in the ever expanding void. It’s learning to love the skies you live
under. It’s missing someone and allowing that amplify their station in your life.
It’s coming home to their arms with photographs and stories of how you traveled
ugly and, in doing so,
became
more
beautiful.
Cut the excuses, get your passport and some courage, and go see the world.
xoxo, Tolar