As the weeks wind down, I feel myself winding up in more of a panic. All I keep thinking of is how I have big dreams ahead of me but little funds to support them. I really don’t know what I think I am doing. This time around, there are a lot of travel fears and worries on my mind.

I keep pushing the idea of leaving Sydney to the back of my mind. It weasels its way into my brain every few minutes, whether its on my early morning runs through the harbour, listening to thick accents of some of the train conductors as they make announcements, sitting with my roommates or my friends at work whom I am about to leave behind – I still can’t comprehend leaving here and leaving my life behind.

Mix in the emotional anxiety of permanently leaving with the amount of things I need to do, and my brain feels like someone’s decided to play hockey with it. There are a lot of things to organise before I leave, and damn it do I wish I had invested in a credit card where I build points for spending money. I am probably the world’s worst frequent traveler.

I’ve never been scared to travel before, but this time I feel terrified. South America is so absolutely foreign to me, whereas after two years in Asia, going back there feels familiar as it has become a second (yet more culturally intense) home.

What I’m worried about:

Trying to find a waterfall somewhere in the Central Highlands of Vietnam.

• Money. I can not say this enough. When I say I don’t the funds, I genuinely mean that I do not have the funds. Had I decided to head off to travel Asia long term, I could live like a queen for months on end spending no more than an average of 20 dollars per day (including lodging). Yet I was always set on New Zealand for my 27th birthday, and though my heart whimpers at the thought of how expensive it is, I know that I will cut my costs down when it comes to food and lodging. I reckon that with all the activities I want to do, I will easily spend about $3,500 in one month. Peanut butter, instant noodles and sporadic couch surfing, looks like we are going to have a beautiful friendship.
• Being Alone. I’ve traveled alone heaps before and made it for five months backpacking on my own after Molly and I hugged good bye in India back in January 2011. Traveling alone doesn’t bother me; I can really fit in anywhere with anyone. I’m just still not sure I am ready to sit in my own thoughts, because I’m afraid that my heart is still weak and my emotions might carry a rain cloud over what I know will be an amazing five weeks in New Zealand. I want to keep my focus positive and not let the past rain down on it.
• Missing my niece. Becoming an auntie is one of the greatest gifts in my life thus far. Evangeline lights up my and my family’s world, and I have never seen Michael and Lauren look so complete. It’s incredible how someone so small can bring such meaning into people’s lives and change them for the better. I found myself not only missing her the other day but missing the way she cuddled and snuggled against me when she’d lie on my chest, the warmth of her cozy body passing through to mine. I miss her curious eyes and steady gaze, and though everyone says to live your own life for you, I am afraid to miss the milestones of her first year.
• Loving Indonesia. I know, this seems like a really weird one to be worried about. I already know that I will love New Zealand, but I know that it isn’t somewhere I can drag out my finances. Indonesia, however, is a more tempting place as you can live comfortably for around $650 per week. Since I last went there for my 25th birthday when I scuba dived off Sumatra, it has been my racing through my veins to go back. I go to sleep at night dreaming of its colours – from the beaches to the skies to the waters to the volcanoes to the wildlife. And the people. The people were golden. I will never forget when my friends, along with a local store owner, scrounged together to make me an incredibly up-to-American-standards-sweet birthday cake on the remote island we were living on. I am afraid that I will get to Indonesia and be tempted to stay, but staying means less start up money for my life in South America.
• Loving Bangkok. When I first got to Bangkok, I hated it. I wanted to get out of there fast as it were a building on fire. But overtime, Bangkok became my home base as it soon felt like a city I knew like the back of my hand. When I get to Bangkok in May (if I leave Indonesia that is) it is going to be sweltering. I’m talking lose one pound per every minute you’re walking around kind of heat. It just weighs down on you like an elephant. That may very well be the only thing that makes me want to get out of Bangkok, because my Tina Turner hair doesn’t do well in 35 degree Celsius heat.
• My hair. Let’s just say for a white girl, I have interesting locks that have a mind of their own. It’s gotten less wild as I’ve gotten older, but still – for me, letting it down loos to air dry my hair is hardly ever an option. (I have always been so jealous of girls with perfect beach hair.) My ten months through Asia saw my hair in nothing but a messy bun or a braid (with a headband of course to help keep it tame), and when I got it cut and blown out before heading to Australia, I remember feeling stunned. It was practically drenched with the sun, and Jesus had it gotten long. It was the first time in 10 months I’d seen it down, and ti was the first time in 10 months I truly felt clean. I felt like a human, like a normal and well-put together 20 something girl instead of a grungy backpacker who couldn’t recall the last time she put a comb through her hair. Though I will bring minor hair maintenance supplies (Moroccan oil and leave-in conditioner), the rest is in God’s hands.
• South America. My knowledge of Spanish is minimal. I picked up some words and phrases through my travels, and it’s close enough to Italian where I can get the gist of what’s being said. And much thanks to eight years of learning Spanish from Sister Mary Towers, I (along with every child that filtered through Saint Anselm) will for sure know how to ask where to find a pencil sharpener should that dire situation ever arise. What makes me most nervous, though, is feeling really alone. I know a handful of people down there, but landing in Chile and trying to find a job right away makes my heart feel like it is beating outside of my body.