Six months ago, I had never looked at a travel blog. Amsterdam was just a place that I saw in a movie. Italy was a country that could be summed up by its capital, Rome, in all its tourism and attractions. The Eiffel Tower was a popular keychain that I would only see hanging from the ignition in my car.
I could go on, but I’ll pause here for a brief moment of silence for the passing of my ignorance and small-mindedness, may it rest in peace. But also, good riddance.
I moved to Spain in January, but still had no idea that an entire new continent was at my disposal, let alone a whole world. My university companions began making lists of extravagant places to which they wanted to travel, and I felt confused and dazed. But after I spontaneously took my first trip since being in Spain to Tangier, Morocco, my mindset was shifted. I saw a culture and a people that had never crossed my mind before that trip. I saw mountains and seas that left me blinking rapidly, trying to wake up from the dream that I figured could be the only way I was viewing that kind of beauty. I rode a camel on the beach and wore a headscarf traditional to that region; I had deep conversations about the fleeting concept of life and the poison of self-involvement with a girl who became my best friend. My life was put into perspective in those few days, and from then on I felt the travel hunger rising.