Tales of a Teenage Traveller

There are people who believe they have seen it all. There are those who know their home- people for whom foreign maps simply do not excite, alien civilizations do not fascinate, and the sky looks the same from every coastline, country and continent. There are people who do not feel that flash of nervous anticipation as their plane plunges below the heavy cloud cover and they catch that first, fleeting glimpse of an ocean, a mountain top, a jungle. The rush of seeing the unknown for the first, and last time, before it becomes known to you. There are people whose curiosity has been satisfied, whose sense of adventure has been mollified; people who believe they’ve seen and experienced all they need to, or even all there is, before they’ve even peaked over the horizon. They may not know what their future brings, but are content enough to set down roots and trust that in a year, ten - fifty years they will be settled snuggly in that spot with the peace of mind that stems from knowing that this is their home.

I am not one of those people.

Usually, the driving curiosity and excitement of being a child even a half hour drive outside your neighbourhood fades away over time. That rush of going on your annual trip to California with Mom, Dad, your brother Will and the cat, dissipates once you hit teenage years. Suddenly, the airports aren’t a portal to a new world, they’re just a nuisance. And white beaches, all of a sudden, aren’t as thrilling as Johnny the soccer player in Chemistry. You spend the whole time grumbling about the parties you’re missing, until, I assure you, your parents are seriously contemplating drowning you in your own virgin margarita (cause they wouldn’t buy you a real one- just another reason why you hate this place, right?).

But there’s a rare breed of teenager that will take any chance they can get to placate their driving wanderlust.
I am one of those people.

Volunteers at Elephant Nature Park

Thai Jungle

Eiffel Tower

Canals of Venice

In the following posts, I will attempt to jot down some of these journeys. I can’t guarantee they will all be gems, but it’s all about the memories. Sometimes I might post a thing or two from what's going even within the city limits- hey, life is a journey right?!

The months leading up to spring break had been arduous and tense for the family, for reasons I may or may not disclose later. The theory created by Dad (Garry Fawley) was that we were all in need for a change of scenery. Both my dad and I are natural travellers, along with my three older sisters, so we attached ourselves to this idea like leeches. My brother, Keenan, already graduated high school and as of yet lost as to what to do next, is less enthusiastic. He’s more inclined to stay at home and host a few parties since we’d all be away (he’s currently on the pursuit of 2 twin sisters). When the flights are booked without his consent, it fuels the tension. A harmless family meeting about possibly activities to do in Mexico (my dad’s favourite vacation spot- we’ve been to three different Mexican cities in 4 years) erupts into tears and screams. I ended up storming out and walking aimlessly down the main road towards the Bay- not an uncommon action. In times of emotional turmoil, I tend to just walk. It’s my theory that if you turn around, you’ve either found a reason to go back or you’ve run out of road. Usually, it’s the latter.

Anyway, I found myself starting to dread the trip, for the first time, ever. Locked up with my family for a week straight wasn’t my idea of an adventure. Added to that, my romantic situation was in turmoil- I am NOT getting into that now- but it made leaving both harder and easier- maybe it will give me the separation I need.

2:44 am, this morning: Dad rushes in to wake me up, one minute before my alarm goes off, breaking the numbing relief of the sleep that has evaded me lately. Flustered, we get our stuff together, pile into a taxi, and head out to the airport. Trying to fight through the fog of sleep deprivation, we waded our way through security. Once we hit the duty free shops, I let nostalgia hold me for a moment. I had been through that airport countless times, especially in the last year, the most recent of which was a trip to Hawaii with with a few friends, but before that, trips to Europe, solo trips across the US and volunteer work in Asia.

But hunger and fatigue dropkicked the fuzzy thoughts out of my head. We got food, my parents got coffee (I wanted a cup so bad but was holding out hope I’d sleep on the plane) and got to our gate. We boarded without trouble and were leaving the bustling streets and sheets of rain of Vancouver behind.

True to my nature, I didn’t sleep more than half an hour (I can’t sleep on planes to save my life). I burrowed into an exploratory adventure novel and eventually finished it as Mom fell asleep on my shoulder and Keenan passed out against the window. Getting restless, I dug into my backpack in search of my iPhone. But of course, it wasn’t there. No journey can start without a set back!!! I had somehow managed to lose it between getting food and the gate. If I weren’t so tired, I would have cried. The phone had been a Christmas present and I hated to think that I’d been so irresponsible as to lose it already (not that its surprising- I’m rather forgetful). At least this way I won’t SnapChat 'said guy' , part of me said. The rest of me told that part to shut up.