Who Knew England Could Be Such a Positive Influence on My Life as a Solo Traveler?

Since I am flying out to England this week, I wanted to reflect on the times I went to England and how the country influenced me as the traveler I am now. In my other posts, I mentioned how my travels changed from wandering around cities and countries to camping solo. But I have yet to share what made me first want to travel and be lost in cities or countries.

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My mom and grandmother drove me to the Philadelphia airport on a Saturday afternoon. Driving there with them was a horror and comic show, but mostly horror. My mom and my grandmother kept bickering:

"I told you to stay in the lane."

"No, that's not what the GPS said.”

“FUCK! I missed the exit!"

"Well, I told you to take that exit…"

And then, there's me. I was in the back seat, tired as one could be, since I stayed up super late to sleep on the plane and hit the ground running in England. I learned not to interject after other failed attempts. Instead, I probably listened to The Fray or Flo Rida on my iPod, set to the loudest setting so I could drown out the ridiculousness. I couldn't wait to get out of the car in one piece, get to the airport, and decompress.

I have been to England thrice on spring break when I was 20, 21, and 23. I stayed with my family, who lived two hours outside of London, the first two times. And on my last trip, I visited a friend studying at the London School of Economics.

At the ripe age of 20, I had never been to the airport alone. The last time I was at an airport was when I was 7 or 8, flying to the British Virgin Islands for my aunt and uncle's wedding, the same aunt and uncle I would visit on this trip. I was wandering around in the airport, not knowing anything. How do I get through security? What do I do after security? What am I going to have for dinner? What if I get bored?

These trips to England made me realize how much I would love going to the airport and wandering around the gates. Seeing the different places people went, picking up a magazine, and learning the magic of traveling.

I love people-watching. People bickering (it makes me feel normal that this happens), discovering where people are traveling to or from, and seeing all the planes ready to take us to our destinations.

I also learned to find a bar on my second trip to England!

England is a special country. This was the first country I traveled solo to, though I had people I was staying with. It was the first place that opened my eyes to travel, especially in a brand-new country. This country taught me that traveling would be the most impactful thing in my life.

I was so obsessed with England when I came back that I wanted everything British in my dorm room, and that obsession lasted for years. I even told my aunt I wanted to get married in England. She laughed and said, "Belinda, there are other beautiful places to get married."

She was right, but this was the first beautiful place I had ever been to, and I wanted to hold on to that because I had a fear, which I still have, that I may not ever get another chance to travel. Something I will discuss another time.

I also really wanted to marry a Brit because of the accent.

I was young and in love … with a country.

The sun was shining through the plane's window, and the sun's warmth woke me up. I knew we were getting close to London. Before we descended, I headed to the bathroom so I could change into more presentable clothing than my IUP sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt. I may not have known what a red eye was, but I knew that London was an upscale city and didn't want to look like a typical American.

My aunt, uncle, and two cousins met me in London so I could explore. I still remember the city was full of life but slow. Gloomy but bright. Old, but new. England is filled from one extreme to another. Everything was foreign, as to be expected, and it was hard to absorb. Part of that was because of jet lag. Another factor was that my brain was overwhelmed with the new sights, sounds, and everything. I  tried so desperately to soak up each minute of this new city that I honestly blacked out parts of that day.

We crammed a lot that day: Tower Bridge, Big Ben, the Tower Of London tour, walking the streets of London, the Tube, a British pub, and probably other things that I blacked out.

While wandering around London with my family, I was excited to be there, but I also felt like I shouldn't be there; it was all a dream. How could I, a girl who grew up with nothing and fought my way through college, be in the most iconic cities in the world?

I knew I had to return to this country and travel again. I knew I wanted that feeling forever, the high I felt, the feeling of being new somewhere, the sense of learning, and the feeling of being free.

This was the moment I fell in love with traveling.

As I mentioned in my other posts, I loved being unknown in a new city. This was the first city that I wanted to be lost in forever. I felt like I belonged here, and from that point, I wanted to travel solo to other countries because they were not the USA, and to me, that was amazing.

My family and I took the train back to their home, two hours away. And I spent the next week with my aunt as my tour guide, taking me to castles, cliffs, the English Channel, pubs, and trying English food and drinks, absorbing everything. Lucky for me, I returned to England a year later and explored even more, like the Isle of Wright. You take a ferry from the mainland to this island off England, and they have a famous boat race there each year. 

My aunt's British friends asked what I had done while there, and they were astonished at how much I had seen and done each time I visited. They even commented that I did more than a typical Brit.

England was also the country that put me at risk of not coming back. I was figuring out ways I could stay. How could I get a visa to work? How could I afford to live in London?

These are things that most early 20-year-olds don't typically think about. But for me, I didn't want to go back to Pennsylvania. I didn't want to go back to a closed-minded area. I just wanted to escape and be free. Even in my mid-30s, I am still at risk of not returning from a trip.

Each time I came back from England, I got giddy to see things in the news about England. I remember emailing my aunt one morning before class, saying that the President or someone high up was at Windsor Castle. They showed it on CNN, and the person was standing where I was just a few weeks before.

I am the type of person who gets excited seeing places that I have been to on the news, tv shows, etc. It's still a strange concept to travel somewhere, stay for a bit, and leave … and then you see them afterward, and you are like, I was there! You can remember what you wore and how you felt, even if it was 14 years ago!

My last trip to London sparked my curiosity about solo travel. While my friend was in class, I had some time on my own to wander the streets of London. I felt lost, excited, overwhelmed, and pure joy at this moment. What was I doing? How would I navigate the Tube even when my friend wrote out each stop I had to take. My fears started to calm down when I was accidentally mistaken a few times as a Brit or when I began to make friends randomly on the London Eye to the point I was wearing a fuzzy purple cowboy hat with Big Ben in the background.

This new feeling of confidence, curiosity, and spark from my wanderings on my own gave me the itch to travel solo—to the point that a few months later, I drove to Canada by myself and just wandered around.

This country made me the traveler I was before heartbreak and the pandemic, and I am excited to return to England and relive my old traveling ways!