I have a confession to make: the first time I sat down on a double decker bus, I took a selfie. I didn't realize it at the time, but I would take that same line, the Purple 17, over and over again while I studied abroad in Reading, England. I always sat at the top, usually in the front seat, in order to get the best view. Now, I have another confession to make: I have a terrible sense of direction. Of course, this isn't a secret. It took me weeks to realize how to find a bus stop, not to mention which direction the bus was going.

While in England, I had to figure out which bus stop took me to the train station before I could figure out how to use a train station. I learned how to squint up at the black and white board, filled with destinations and times, without being knocked over by other travelers. I also, sort of, learned how to tell military time. This skill turned out to be highly useful, because even though I planned on traveling, I didn't realize how much traveling was actually in my future.

As much as I love double decker buses, I ended up loving trains more. Trains not only feel smoother than cars, but they got me to my destinations faster. Trains allowed me to relax while traveling, and even stretch out my feet. Most importantly, trains gave me the opportunity to look out the window. I spent a decent amount of my childhood road trips staring out of windows. Hence, I blame my knack of zoning out while staring at passing trees for my impaired sense of direction.

I stared out of a train window in England, France, Germany, Scotland and Switzerland. Inches of glass separated me from damp meadows, hills dotted with grazing sheep and fields of yellow flowers surrounded by the white-dipped Alps. White signs flashed by, telling me the name of the town I passed through. When I reached my destination, I had to find a city map and figure out where the train station stood. From there, I wandered through the streets in order to find my hostel.

Of course, I never trusted myself to travel alone. I always traveled with one or more friends. But before studying abroad, I had never traveled without my family.

When I arrived back home in the United States, I was hesitant to drive, not because I was used to cars being on the other side of the road, but because I was afraid of relying on my GPS. Before studying abroad, I wasn't comfortable driving without a GPS unless I had been to my destination at least a dozen times.

When I arrived back home, I read in the local newspaper that more and more high schoolers are avoiding getting their drivers' licenses. As a teenager, getting my driver's license meant that I could drive where I wanted to, when I wanted to, by myself. And to my 17-year-old self, that was independence. But when I came home from the UK, I realized that I missed the freedom of hopping on a train and letting it take me to my destination. I missed learning about a different country just by reading its signs and admiring its landscape.

Now, when I get in my car, I realize that it is the most reliable mode of transportation for a country as extensive as the U.S. I'm thankful that I have a car at all. However, I'm more thankful that all of the trains that I hopped on taught me how to use resources in order to get my bearings, and how to experience traveling in a different way. Now, when I look at that selfie I took on the Purple 17, I see a less-experienced version of myself, but one who is breathless for the journeys ahead.