Maximizing Travel

It was a sultry August afternoon in Berlin, the second to last destination on my solo excursion. Comparing it to my then home in London, Berlin felt freer and more radiant; perhaps it was the mere presence of sunshine.
As I sat awaiting the train to Vienna, four young American girls yelled out to me,“Hey! Are you alone? Are you American?” I was definitely both of those things, and my reluctance to leave Berlin evaporated. Their destination was Prague; mine wasn’t. We discovered we were all from California, and before I fully realized what was happening we had boarded the train together.
En route were lush landscapes one could only dream of in my native Hollywood: quaint villages, waterfalls, and flowing green grass akin to images in a travel book. The girls continuously attempted to sell Prague, the unknown. I debated internally, my adventurous side pushing me on while my conservative side told me not to veer off the planned path. With slight gusto I accepted the challenge, unsure of where I’d stay and what I was doing.
The streets were lined with magnificent architecture, the type of which I'd only previously seen in some artificial Disney setting. We found a square permeated with street musicians, but unlike home they had accordions rather than guitars. They played traditional Czech music rather than top 40 hits or bad Beatles covers. Dancing tourists crowded us in, tapping into a physical side of me long dormant.
We settled on the tackiest club in sight. Barmaids danced on tables with fire-ridden hula-hoops, blowing flames a little too close to the sweating tourists lining the bar. In desperate need of cool air, we left the chaos and walked to the imposing Charles Bridge. The Vitava river flowing beneath us, I photographed these former strangers; people I’d never known but would now forever remember.
I departed my friends with no sense of direction, lost amongst dodgy alleys and Soviet architecture. Energized by the excitement and unpredictability, I couldn’t sleep. I boarded the train to Vienna feeling free of the drab, mundane nature of my previous life. For my first twenty years I'd never left home. I was unsure what lie ahead and wondered how on earth I’d gotten to this point.
I write this from Los Angeles, filled with the internal freedom experienced when reminded of that night. It’s this contentment for which I strive, confident that one day it will be regained. If this experience proved anything, it’s that there’s always a new life waiting.