Six months of travel.
Celebrating six months of travel in Hanoi, Vietnam.
If you’d asked me six months ago I don’t think I’d tell you that on January 3 I’d be in Hanoi, Vietnam, grilling my own meat on the sidewalk, ordering too many passion fruit mojitos because we got back to the bar with just five minutes left of 2-for-1 ladies night, that I’d be drinking rum and cokes and stealing people’s buckets at a bar that was hidden from police interruption. But that is how I cwlwbrated six months of travel.
That is how I spent my six month “anniversary” on the road.
It was a bittersweet night because it was also the last night I’d be spending in Vietnam, and the last night I’d be spending with Matilda, the 19 year old Swedish girl I’d been traveling with for nearly 2 weeks.
I think her maturity and my immaturity put us both at about 25.
When I started this trip and people asked how long I was traveling for I’d usually squeak out “3 to 6 months,” because the idea of traveling for a year was still beyond me. And I didn’t think there was any chance I would make it this far let alone to next summer.
But now I have trouble thinking that this trip is half over. That I’ll be leaving Southeast Asia in two months. That after that I only have one more destination before home.