The truth from a turtle's perspective

My backpacking trip through Europe reminds me of the time I ruined Easter.
I was fired as the mall Easter bunny – you know the one in the giant suit with the big dopey bucked toothed smile? My first job was inside that furry prison, where I gazed out through mesh eyes at squiring children demanding chocolaty treats like I was Willy Wonka himself.
At the end of my shift I was so relieved to be done that I pulled off the giant bunny head right in front of the line of waiting kids, initiating the apocalypse.
“THE EASTER BUNNY DOESN’T EXIST!” screeched one child, then another, until it was an eruption that echoed through the mall.
Security ran over to shield me as angry parents consoled their blubbering snotty nosed children hyperventilating on the floor who just realized that the Easter bunny was nothing more than a miserable teenage trying to make enough money to travel.
Years later and I was determined to finish my 2-month European adventure with everything I owned strapped to my back.
I thought that when I landed in Europe, I would be whisked away by hippies who would convince me not to shave my legs and take me to a hidden beach where we would talk about philosophy around a fire and feel small under the stars, with our arms around one another singing something like “We Are the Champions."
No. It's time to take off the bunny head and bear witness to the truth.
Beaches are cluttered, the Coliseum is full of people complaining of sunburns, the Parthenon is under construction, and someone just convinced you that “it’s easy to get to Italy from here,” except that 300 euro later, it’s not.
If you recognize that pitfalls are possible, then you will handle them better. It was only when I decided to throw out every idea of how things were “supposed to be” that traveling became a rush. Like in Rome when an ex hit man for the mafia made me pasta dinner, or when I drank ouzo with locals in Greece until my head spun and the sun rose.
I accepted that I was the tortoise in the fable and not the hare I thought I had to be. If you treat traveling like a race, you won’t win.
Traveling is a series of moments. Sometimes it’s absolute liberation and other times it feels like the labours of Hercules. It can be hard, rugged and wild, but in the end, if you keep a clear head, open eyes, and a welcoming heart, you will learn something real about yourself.
Listen kids, the Easter bunny doesn’t exist and traveling isn’t perfect – such is life. Hop on and enjoy the ride.