I've traveled by myself a few times; I've made the five-hour plane ride from LA to DC and back again too many times to count. I moved to a brand new place all alone when I was freshman, and I did the same this past semester when I decided to study abroad in Rome. But I didn't realize until last weekend, when I went down to Naples, Pompeii, and the neighboring islands of Ischia and Capri what it meant to travel alone. There's something completely different about traversing a different country through a confusing array of boats and trains trying to find the place you need to go to.
When I made my way to Termini Station in Rome to catch my train, I had absolutely zero idea what to do or what to expect. I needed to catch the H bus outside my apartment in a city notorious for having late transportation, take the long journey to Termini and somehow find out where my train was departing.
But I did it.
Then when I arrived in Naples, I had to somehow find a way to get the docks that are about four kilometers away. I had to figure out how to work the Naples Metro system through broken Italian from a man working at a newspaper stand who spoke zero English.
But I did it.
I took a ferry to Ischia to meet up with my family, then to Capri, where I met up with roommates. And then we took separate paths again. At this point I was pretty good at figuring out ferries so I took one to Sorrento where I somehow managed to find the train that would take me to Pompeii.
By the time I arrived, it was late at night and I was 30 walking minutes away from my hostel. Alone. In Pompeii. I had previously downloaded an offline map of Pompeii so I was able to figure out which streets to walk to get to my hostel. And as I began walking mostly deserted streets, the entire plot of "Taken" reeled through my head.
But then I remembered how in the past 72 hours alone, I traveled via train, ferry, and Metro across a new country, speaking a foreign language, and every time, made to my destination. I remembered that I was a strong, proud individual and my parents had raised me well. I remembered that even if something happened, and that was a pretty big if, I could defend myself. I remembered that in all my journeys beforehand nothing had happened to make me doubt myself now.
And so I realized that I should never doubt myself. After everything I had already done and accomplished in the entirety of my life, did I not deserve to trust myself? Have I not proven to myself over and over again that I could do anything I set my mind to?
As I was walking to my hostel, not more than a block away at this point, I realized why all the streets were deserted. There was a huge gathering at a church and thousands upon thousands of people were holding candles and singing. If I had taken a taxi or if I had let my fear hold me back, I would have missed it. I would have missed a thousand collective voices singing to God in Italian. And I wouldn’t have wanted to miss that for the world.
