It always happens this way for me. It takes me some time to adjust. New life, new food, a different time zone, way of living. It takes me time.
When I arrived in Rome, I slowly eased into solo travel. For the first day I walked around my neighborhood park, which was actually the Appia Antica Ruins. Beautiful, old, crumbling remains of aqueducts. But really not much else to do except walk around and take pictures.
It wasn’t until later that evening that I courageously left my neighborhood, got on the metro and went into the main part of Rome. Trevi Fountain, the good stuff (sadly, the Trevi Fountain was under construction at this time, whoops!). But still, it took me a few hours, but I got into the groove of exploration. I think it didn’t take me nearly as long as this time because I was by myself. I didn’t have a partner to rely on, to save me from boredom or fear, to explore with. I just had myself, and I threw myself into the experience.
Now, this time traveling, in Phuket for example, it was on week 4 of the 4 week adventure, that I was finally riding solo on the scooter around the island, ordering Chai Yen like a pro, picking up tailored dresses, just getting into the groove of Thai life. But then it was time to go…
Every time we arrive in a new place, its takes me some time to adjust, to feel comfortable. It is week three in Panama, and I feel I’m finally getting into my groove here, just as we are halfway through this adventure. Very interesting to see how I and my comfort level changes and morphs in every new place.