A One-Month Solo Trip: Was It Worth It?

Last year, I spent a month in Europe, a place I had always wanted to visit.

Last year's journal:

https://note.com/hmwr1231/n/n0c00a9c0177d

Since I don't know how long I'll be able to take breaks like this, I made the most of it again this year.

This time, I arrived in Paris, then went to Marseille, traveled further south to Barcelona, flew to London to visit a friend, and from there, zoomed off to my beloved New York.

When I was 19, I lived here.

I found a China Eastern Airlines ticket for less than 30,000 yen one way. I thought, If I don’t go now, I never will! So, I got a visa, grabbed my backpack, and flew to New York.

Once I got there, I found a place to live, started an internship, studied—it was, looking back, completely unplanned.

But I felt like if I didn’t go in that way, I’d never go at all.

I made a lot of mistakes because I was reckless, but people around me always helped me out. I want to be like them when I grow up.

Thanks to those people, I fell in love with New York. Back then, I decided I wanted to live there and applied to university. I got the scores I needed and moved to the U.S., but right before enrolling, a lot of issues arose, forcing me to return to Japan. After that, I had to face many things in my life, struggling through a difficult period.

After all that time, I returned to New York for the first time in years.

A month filled with nostalgia and newness, with various sights and emotions blending together.

Things that had changed, things that had stayed the same. New feelings I encountered, memories I had forgotten and then remembered, and the bittersweet thought that I might forget them again.

A month of witnessing different lives. On the flight home, I was overwhelmed with emotions I couldn’t put into words, and I couldn’t stop crying. From the outside, I must have looked way too sentimental.

The sparkling sea in Marseille, the bus stop at dawn, the Corbusier buildings, the wine in Barcelona.

Reuniting with my cousin in London after years apart.

Racing on my bike at midnight to avoid missing a flight.

The homemade bento my “big sister” in New York made for me.

Playing with new friends in Chinatown.

—I miss it all. 🖤

Every place brought different thoughts and experiences, so I want to write about each place at my own pace, casually and freely.

So, here’s my travel log. Hope you enjoy following along. ฅ^•ω•^ฅ

At the time, when the yen was at 160 per dollar, I bought a round-trip ticket from Paris to Narita for 84,000 yen.

My special skill? Finding ultra-cheap tickets.

But of course, that comes with things like 20-hour layovers in Sri Lanka or not having internet access. Whether you can handle it depends on the person.

And this time, since I bought my ticket without making any plans, I ended up going to London and New York, which probably cost me quite a bit. I realized that only after I was already there—I had no idea what the standard prices were.

And when you take a month off, your salary stops.

The weak yen that everyone talks about? It actually hurt. A lot.

I’m not exactly rich, so I wonder how I even decided to go this year.

I probably thought the same thing last year. But here I am again.

I really have no sense of planning.

But if I didn’t do it this way, I wouldn’t be able to go to places like this.

I’ve always avoided talking about money, but let’s talk about it.

I search for the cheapest options on various travel sites for each destination.

Then, I pick the ones with decent reviews and decide based on the overall impression.

I never expect much.

But when I find a cheap place that’s actually clean, or when the people in the dormitory are friendly, I feel like I won the lottery.

For transportation, I mostly take long-distance buses.

Since I’m small and carrying too much from Japan would be a burden, I pack as lightly as possible. I don’t bring many clothes.

When I arrive at a dormitory, I drop off my luggage, take a shower, change into a random tank top and jeans, slip on my sandals, and wander around.

I go into a café, read a book mindlessly, or just space out thinking about the future.

In the evening, I casually drop by a market or a church, then stop by a supermarket on the way back and take a stroll.

Sometimes, I have dinner with someone from the dormitory.

If I’m tired, I lounge in bed and watch Ghibli movies.

That was my routine.

I’ve traveled alone to many countries, but I’m not really interested in visiting tourist spots or buying local goods.

What I love is living like I belong there, blending into daily life—feeling like I’ve become someone else.

Sometimes, walking along the big, well-paved roads that are considered "normal" in Japan feels unbearably suffocating.

I know my place should be anywhere, yet sometimes, it feels like it's nowhere.I find myself longing to be somewhere else—somewhere that isn’t here.

In Europe, there are so many immigrants that even someone like me, an Asian traveler, can be mistaken for a local.

People ask me for directions, or speak to me in Spanish or French. The fact that they don’t immediately see me as just an Asian person or a tourist, the absence of that preconceived notion—it feels oddly comforting.

Being in an unfamiliar place, far from Japan, gives me space to confront emotions from the past, to forgive people, to accept the parts of myself that I still dislike. Sometimes, I want to stay forever; other times, I just want to go home. And I let those feelings drift by, gazing out the window of a plane, a bus, or a train.

And as I do, the feelings that had been weighing on me—those tangled thoughts—slowly start to loosen their grip, as if some invisible force is telling me it's okay.

Somehow, I feel like I’m turning into Coji-Coji.

While I was traveling, a friend messaged me:"I want to go too, but is it really worth it, even if it costs a lot of money?"

Honestly, my first thought was, How should I know? But at the same time, I understood. (´･_･`)

Expanding your worldview doesn’t necessarily make life easier in any tangible way. It’s not like I’m rich either.

There have even been times when learning about the world’s norms made life in Japan feel even more suffocating.

But despite that, coming here has given me countless moments where I’ve thought, I’m really glad I got to feel this.

By letting myself go with the flow, I met people who helped free me from my own constraints. I learned to forgive more—others, and myself too. And even if not right away, there were times when words or emotions from past experiences came back to me and, suddenly, saved me.

No matter how many times I go, no matter how many times I experience frustration, anxiety, or loneliness, I’ll always want to go again.

That hasn’t changed since the day I suddenly decided to fly to New York alone.

There are so many reasons. Too many to write them all.But maybe they don’t need to be written. Maybe I don’t even want to question whether there’s meaning in this.Because isn’t that what love is?

Everyone loves different things.

You can’t truly understand something just by asking someone else about it.

So, even if you ask me, I still don’t know. I have no clear answer, and I’m sorry if that’s not the

kindest response.But in the end, the only way to know is to try for yourself.

There’s no universal "right answer."All we can do is take the best step forward from where we are now.

I’ve had times where I didn’t want to do anything.And because I know what that feels like, while I do want to do something, I want to struggle and enjoy it as much as I can.

And when I don’t feel like doing anything, that’s okay too.

The timing is different for everyone.

So, let’s just take life as it comes, however we want.

This turned into another rambling entry—Oh well.

♥️

Himawari

Instagram ＠hmwr3112