One of my best friends has invited me to go on multiple trips with her family for years. They’ve taken me on a cruise to Jamaica, Grand Cayman, and Cozumel in high school, to Venice, Greece, and Montenegro in college, Amsterdam, the Hague, and Cologne in 2018 and then a cruise to Bahamas, St. Thomas, and Sint Marteen in 2019. They are the biggest blessing and they have afforded me opportunities to see the world that I wouldn’t have otherwise.

In 2018, they invited me to Amsterdam, the Hague, and Cologne. They flew Memphis to Amsterdam and I found a flight for half of the price that flew Nashville to Dublin, and then a Ryanair flight from Dublin to Amsterdam, where I was meeting them and then we would take the train to The Hague where we were staying. I was so proud of myself for finding this flight, and I was excited to be able to see Dublin by myself for a day on the back end of the trip. I felt that was a good way to dip my toe into some solo traveling.

The whole night before, my boyfriend was sitting with me while I packed my big suitcase I was planning on checking. I had all of my clothes, my full size liquids, my makeup, and my shoes in my suitcase. I also brought a backpack and packed my “carry-on essentials:” my kindle, 2 harry potter books, my curling wand, my flat iron, my toothbrush, and deodorant. I kept saying how terrified I was to lose my luggage (foreshadowing), and he brushed it off saying I’d be fine. I left for Nashville the next morning and flew to London where my layover was. I had a very quick layover and had about 20 minutes to deplane, go through customs, and get to my gate in time for boarding at a completely different terminal at Heathrow. I hurried through customs, and I’m assuming they could see I looked stressed, so an agent pulled me aside and checked my backpack and cleared me to go. I ran to the flight board to see where my gate was and noticed the dozen flights to Dublin all had that bright red CANCELLED next to them… I ran up to an agent, and she informed me that all flights to Dublin were cancelled due to inclement weather coming at it from the north and the south.

all of my travel documents at the end of the day

At this point I figured I needed to get my luggage first and then figure out how I was going to get to Dublin. I went down to baggage claim and went to the United desk. I explained to them my situation and they informed me that Aer Lingus already had my luggage. I was so confused. Why would Aer Lingus have it? I’ve never been on an Aer Lingus flight. Let alone today! But I went to the Aer Lingus desk, and they just started laughing. “You aren’t getting your luggage today.” I was shocked. I asked when I could expect it, and said I’d be leaving The Hague in 3 days to go to Cologne, so I needed it by then. “Yeah, maybe!” I asked if there was a way to track the location of my luggage, and they said yes and gave me a code along with a customer service number.

PSA to all travelers! Aer Lingus loses 3-4 bags PER FLIGHT. They are absolutely horrific when handling luggage and handling any customer service issues. You’ll rarely hear me speak poorly about a company, and I’m a very accommodating person. But 3-4 bags PER FLIGHT is completely ludicrous.

After I got it wrapped around my head that I was going to have to make it with the clothes I was wearing and the items in my backpack, I started working on how to get to The Hague. I went to the ticket counter and asked how much a flight to Amsterdam would cost and they were quoting me almost 800 GBP. I said “no, thank you. What are my other options.” She told me the ferry wasn’t working so I’d have to take the train. So I set out on my journey to St. Pancras.

I took the Underground from Heathrow to King’s Cross and my Harry Potter-loving heart was in heaven in the midst of my travelling hell. I saw Platform 9 3/4 and walked around the gift shop but remained strong and realized I’d have to buy a whole new european wardrobe on this trip, so I kept my money in my pocket. I crossed the street in the snow to St. Pancras. To give yall an idea of what I was working with when weathering this winter storm, I was wearing my Nike FlyKnit tennis shoes, reebok leggings, a short sleve t-shirt, and a thin sweatshirt…. I also didn’t realize that train stations were open air. It was a tough few hours waiting for my train.

At St. Pancras, they have a market, and I grabbed about half a dozen beers and canned cocktails to get me drunk so I could forget about what I was experiencing lol. I also went to Le Pain Quotidien and had a fantastic chicken and leek pot pie, roasted vegetables, and cheese. I had a few glasses of wine and wandered the upper levels of the station. Even in my anxiety-ridden state, St. Pancras is absolutely beautiful. If you’re ever in London, I recommend going and looking at how pretty everything is there.

Once I got on the train, we went through the Chunnel and I fell asleep. I woke up about an hour later and realized “huh, I don’t know where I’m going after I get off this train…” So I asked this incredibly kind girl next to me how to get to The Hague. She pulled up the schedule on her phone and I took a screenshot. We got to Brussels and got off at platform 18. If you see on the schedule, I thought my platform for the next stop was Platform 18. I thought my luck was finally turning around! You will see though that I actually needing to be at platform 5… I hauled ass across the train station, got onto my train, and the weight of the day finally hit me. I started crying, very openly and publicly on this very public transportation. In public.

This is where the story gets good. Next to me was this amazing father and daughter. The father asked if I was okay (I obviously was not as I was visibly crying lol) and I just unloaded on the poor guy. I told him about my cancelled flight, my lost luggage, how I was lost on the trains, and I was just trying to get to the Hague. He said “we’re getting off at the station right before you! Stay with us and we’ll take care of you.” Then he pulled out a heineken and said “here is a gift from my people.”

At this point, we stop at Antwerp and Rosenthaal, but the train drops us in Essen, so we had to wait for close to 30 minutes in the snow on this abandoned platform for another train to Rosenthaal. And sweet Elientje (the daughter) offered me her scarf because I was unprepared (yes, I’m still in my knit tennis shoes and thin sweatshirt in the snow)! I offered her father, Jeroen, some of my beers and we were chugging them in an effort to stay warm lol. The train finally picked us up, and we talked about politics and social issues in America vs The Netherlands. Elientje practiced her English with me and talked to me about boys I told her about my crush (my now boyfriend because of this trip). They were actual angels to me. When they got off, Jeroen gave me his card and told me to email him when I got to my group and to stay in touch. He also informed me that the train station I was getting off at was in a sketchy part of town, so to stay inside the station to wait for my uber. I was so sad to leave them, but was so thankful to have met them.

I finally arrived to the Hague about 22 hours after the start of my travel journey. I finally made it to this tiny, locals-only Greek restaurant in the suburbs of The Hague to meet my group. I walked in, looking haggard as hell, and was greeting with shouts, excitement, love, and lots of wine.

I did have to buy lots of new clothes, makeup, and got my hair blown out in the Hague (I had to google translate in order to express what a blow out is in Dutch lol). Those 22 hours of traveling were some of the most unexpectedly stressful in my life. Me, traveling alone, lost, with none of my shit, navigating unfamiliar transportation in multiple countries. While in the moment, this was the worst thing to happen, looking back, I learned so much and ended up meeting incredible people who I still keep in touch with today! Because of this, I have gained invaluable confidence in how to handle difficult and stressful situations.

Here are the lessons I learned:

Things are going to go awry. No trip is perfect. No trip is all ballgowns in front of the Eiffel Tower. Traveling can be hard, and that’s what makes it so great. You learn about yourself in those challenging and really shitty times. You’ve got to be nimble and flexible.
You don’t need so much stuff! Why did I bring my kindle and 2 extra books??? Why did I have 4 pairs of boots, 10 tops, 5 pairs of pants, and my entire makeup arsenal for only a week??? Why did I pack my full size shampoo and conditioner? After being forced to make it on 1 dress, 1 pair of pants and tights, 1 pair of boots and a pair of tennis shoes, and minimal makeup, I realized that we pack way too much. Now I pack in my carry-on only.
Don’t be afraid to look dumb. If I hadn’t started crying on a train in Brussels, I wouldn’t have met Jeroen and Elientje, and they are treasures to me. Obviously don’t go making friends with everyone on a train in a foreign country, but don’t be afraid to meet new people and learn about them. I am so lucky that Jeroen still emails me and asks me about current issues in America and vice versa. I am so lucky that Elientje still tells me about her school and trips she’s taking. I made a lifelong friendship.
You’ve gotta be fast on your feet. I could’ve very easily sat at Heathrow and given up. I was close to doing that! I texted my dad and told him all about my troubles in real time and his reply was “Let me know when you get to A’dam *kissy face*” Which was NOT HELPFUL. But in reality, how could he help me from across an ocean at 2am his time?! Knowing that I had to pull myself up by my bootstraps and make some decisions was an exciting prospect, but looking back I am so proud of myself.
Always have someone know where you are. I shared my location with my boyfriend, parents, and sisters. I texted my friend updates at every train station even though she was still flying. Just because you’re traveling solo, does not mean you have to travel alone.

Life lessons from the worst travel day

How to maximize your Disney World trip - 4 parks in 2 days

24 Hours in Dublin - Solo