To tell you the truth, travelling scares the crap out of me. That may sound like a strange admission from someone running a website called "Big Adventures", but, well, there you have it. The thought of arriving alone in some smelly dirty city on the far side of the planet where no one speaks anything even resembling a Latin-based language, with no hotel reservation, no idea where the good hotels are, not even an idea of whether the good hotels will have a toilet, and oh by the way, we don't take credit cards... well, I'm sure you get the picture. The idea of travelling causes me some significant amount of fear -- and yet, like the proverbial moth to the proverbial flame, my dreams for the future continue to flutter around long voyages to far-off lands.
Like most fears, mine is rooted in the unknown. I've never done any real, seat-of-my-pants travelling. With only the experiences of Club Med and a few well-chaperoned tours of Mexico under my belt, I am but an ignorant neophyte on the great wandering earth.
My travelers' trepidations can be easily classified into three categories. First, there is fear for my personal safety; then, there is the fear of getting ripped off; and finally, there is the fear of being alone.
To address the final point: I'm a fairly shy, introspective person -- not good at either approaching people or partaking of the ensuing smalltalk. To find myself in a strange, and perhaps scary land, and to be alone, and (worse) to be lonely, and (still worse) to be depressed and blaming myself for the loneliness.... well, that would bring my giddy dreams of travel to a rather sobering, and sudden, conclusion.
Again, to address the final point: I had a business meeting coming up in Boston, with the opportunity to stay for a weekend and play tourist. So, I would face the final fear head on -- I would see if I had what it takes to be a traveler.