We’ve traveled around England by bus and train, stayed at a friend’s house, and found it quite easy to get around. After that, we flew to Spain and took buses to our Marriott resort. We also visited other cities in Spain, spending our days ordering food and asking for directions. But where’s the challenge in that?
Sometimes, it just doesn’t feel real. Even weeks before we left, my excitement was fading. Despite having traveled before, I couldn’t wrap my head around the upcoming journey.
You’d think the closer I got to leaving, the more excited I’d be, but it was the opposite. In the days and hours before departure, it felt like I was in a weird dream. My emotions couldn’t catch up with the anticipation of what was ahead.
When we landed in England, it felt like a two-week holiday, a sensation I didn’t remember from my last trip. Walking through Brighton, dining in York, and boarding my flight to Spain all felt like it would end soon, and I’d be back at work. Maybe Europe felt too much like home or because I hadn’t faced the usual challenges and confusion of backpacking yet.
Europe was very similar to home. The difference was the stunning architecture, beautiful scenery, and our funny friends who spoke a different kind of English. But the travel experience itself felt quite familiar.
Restaurants served international food in the same candle-lit atmosphere as in Canada. Pubs played sports with patrons yelling at the TV, waiters spoke English and expected tips. The accommodations were nice but pricey, McDonald’s was everywhere, and transport was incredibly efficient.
There were no hagglers or hustlers, no tuk-tuk rides or bustling street shops. It lacked the sidewalk drama and people-watching opportunities that make travel feel different. Compared to other places we’ve visited, it felt like exploring another city in Canada—amazing and beautiful, but still, just another city.
Maybe that’s why I was still in that dream-like state; I hadn’t experienced the shock of landing somewhere completely different like Bangkok. Sure, you find McDonald’s in Thailand, people speak English in Indonesia, and tips are expected in India, but everything is so wonderfully different.
Every corner reveals something you’d never see at home. Every smell either draws you in or hits you hard. Every sound grabs your attention. That’s what travel is about—being lost in time, space, and culture. It’s a feeling you crave once you’ve experienced it, and I’ve been chasing it ever since my first taste.
So, when we stepped off the ferry in Tangier, Morocco, and onto African soil, that feeling came rushing back. People immediately ran over to grab our bags, guides appeared offering to show us hotels, carpet shops, or restaurants. The hassle began to annoy me, but then I remembered: this is what we came for.
The hustle, the noise, the smells, the people, the stress, the laughter, the air—this is travel. This is backpacking. This is what I came for. Just a few minutes off that ferry, and I felt awake and alive again. I haven’t fully relaxed into the backpacking mindset yet, but that first step onto African soil was a huge leap into what this trip means to me.