Letting go.

Last night, I found myself getting nervous about my day of traveling. I had already booked my ticket from Karlovy Vary to Prague. But then I either had to take another bus (if I made it to the Prague bus station in time) or take the metro to the train station and catch a train to Ceske Budejovice. I was fraught with indecision and anxiety. That's one thing that happens when you travel alone. You have to make all the big decisions by yourself.

But I tried to think about it more rationally. Why was I getting nervous? What was the worst that would happen? That I would miss the bus and be stuck in Karlovy Vary? That I couldn't find a connection in Prague and would be stuck there another day? That I couldn't find a place to spend the night? My worries were senseless. Even if I found myself in these situations, I am sure that I could figure something out. My fear is the idea of something going wrong.

That's when I made the realization that this is the way I live my life. I always want to do everything right the first time, and my biggest fear is messing up. And this not only about my travels, it affects my work, my relationships, my writing, everything.

It's kind of funny then, that I decided to travel for three and a half months in Europe, because here, I end up making mistakes everyday. There's no way that I can know everything. Sometimes I get it right the first time, and other times I don't. I am on the ride of my life, and it is almost like a roller coaster (in a good sense because you all know that I hate roller coasters). The problem is that I am gripping the handle bars too tightly and sometimes, in order to really have fun, you just have to throw your hands up in the air and let go.

So in the end, it all worked out fine. I took the bus from Karlovy Vary to Prague and then took the next train to Ceske Budejovice. It was all very non-eventful and easy until I noticed we were stopped at a station for a long time. I looked outside and it wasn't my stop. But then the conductor came by and pointed outside to all the people going on the bus. I was supposed to join them. He helped me with my bags, and I got on a bus that took me to the city. I made a mistake. I didn't know. It all worked out at the end.

Ceske Budejovice, the home of the original Budweiser, was a welcome change from Karlovy Vary. The moment I left the bus, I felt a sense of relief. There were convenient stores (something I couldn't find in the spa town), graffiti on the walls, strange clothing stores and even stranger people walking around. In the middle of this blue-collar town is a beautiful square, filled with rows of colorful buildings, one of the biggest in Europe. It looks and feel like a place where real Czech people live. I haven't seen one tourist yet. I checked into my pension, ate dinner at the place the girl at the front desk recommended, and went to the bar next door for a glass of wine. The town seemed to go to sleep as soon as night fell. I was also tired from my day of traveling and so that was just fine.


Cool building in Ceske Budejovice.



The town square at sunset.



After dinner walk.