No? Huh!? Strange. Let me tell you about it now.
I graduated University in 1998, I studied in Sheffield and had met a boy. Now, the plan was that we’d go travelling together. But at that time, apart from a mad weekend in Moscow to see the Prodigy play a snowboard comp (there’s a story for another time!), I hadn’t really been anywhere. So, I wanted to get some experience under my belt, y’know not be a complete noob when we went, aaaand I wanted to, I dunno, ‘test’ myself. I could have picked somewhere relatively ‘easy’ like Oz, but instead I decided that my first foray out into the world, on my own, should be India.
Of course! India! Why not!
5 weeks in India. On my own.
I didn’t have a fackin clue.
My parents were probably bricking it for me, but they kept that well hidden.
My Grandpop had been in the RAF as a reconnaissance photographer a million moons ago, he’d spent some time in India and I’d seen aerial photos he’d taken of the Taj Mahal. I wanted to go see where he’d been. I wanted to get as far away from the ‘burbs I’d grown up in and I probably wanted to prove to the boyfriend that I could hack it (and prove it to myself too!).
Let’s just say my first solo trip was a mixed bag. I got upgraded to business class on the way out, but then arrived in Delhi in the thickened fog you’ve ever seen and was pretty much instantly scammed. In fairness, it was a well put together scam, cleverly done. There were two other girls around my age on my flight and we grabbed a taxi together only to be told that because of the fog all the hotels were full and there was nowhere to stay.
Three hours of stubbornness later and I was too knackered to argue anymore and found myself in another car. The combination of death in your hands driving style and failing headlamp electrics was too much for my over-stimulated nervous system. I fell asleep and woke up late at night in Agra.
Now, due to the passage of time and the fact that it was bonkers beyond ANYTHING I had ever experienced, the timeline feels like a jumble. I’m pretty sure I flew on the 29th of December, landed on the 30th, and woke up in a strange room (full of mice in the bin) surrounded by strange sounds (I had never heard throat clearing like it) on the morning of the 31st.
The Taj Mahal is as beautiful as they say, although the thing I remember most clearly is that it’s absolutely spotless anywhere where a foot would tread. But as a curious tourist, who wanted to see around the back of the amazing tomb, I found that the buffing and scrubbing ended just beyond where the eye falls. I really liked that, that it was a bit grubby and natural. I looked beyond the back of Taj towards the river, somewhere in my mind, a plan began to hatch.
Now I admit, I’m a bit of a romantic, I loved Agra. The majesty of the Red Fort, the splendour of the Taj Mahal, the colours, smells and sounds. At one point as I walked along a lane, a huge hawk swooped down and snatched a bag of food straight out of a small boy’s hands. I felt vibrant and alive. I got talking to a couple of other backpackers, it was New Years Eve and I wanted to know what, if any, plans there were to celebrate the turning of a new year.
It turns out there were none. So we’d have to make our own fun. They’d scored some fruit salad type alcohol in a bag (it tasted rank, obviously) and I suggested my plan – wouldn’t it be cool to see in the New Year from the Taj Mahal. Not next to the Taj, but from the Taj.
I mean, really… What was I thinking??
Obviously, once you’ve got some melon flavoured hooch in your system, anything sounds like a good idea. We decided that the best route would be to head down to the river bank and scale our way in. How hard could it be??
I told this story to a friend the other day. “Oh you were such a bad girl!” was her response. I found that quite confusing. If you’d known me then, you’d know that I was the absolute opposite of a bad girl – I still am. I was a bit naive perhaps, a dreamer, curious. I had this glorious vision, one of romance and adventure.
But as she pointed out “How many Mum’s on the school run today have at some point tried to break into the Taj Mahal?”. Which I suppose is a fair point!
Anyways, drunk on excitement and tipsy on plastic bag booze, we followed the outer walls around and down to the riverbank. It was dark. Very dark. We stumbled along, looking up at the back of the Taj. And up, and up, and up. It turns out that the rear wall is very, very high, and very, very smooth. This could be trickier than we thought. A little ways ahead we could see a small fire burning. That’s odd we mused.
Somewhere a dog barked.
Hang on, that somewhere was getting closer. Bloody hell, there’s a dog barking and it’s really close! And people shouting too! Shit. Errrrr…
The shouting people got closer, and over the shoulder of at least one there was some kind of rifle. To be honest, by this point, I was crapping it. I didn’t want to be washed up dead somewhere downstream of Agra less than a week after leaving home.
It was clear that we weren’t supposed to be there. It was time to scram, So scram we did. And fast!
We hadn’t trotted far, tails firmly fixed between our legs, when we realised that we could hear laughing behind us. Clearly that it wasn’t the first time these guys had told a bunch of hapless youth to naff off. We relaxed a bit but kept scuttling. Once around the corner and up the street we started to giggle uncontrollably, a mixture of relief and clarity at the stupidity of the situation.
There were many other adventures in those five weeks. It was a bit like constantly walking across hot coals. I met amazing people. I saw incredible things. I understood how delicately balanced the western digestive tract can be.
I felt compelled and yet completely out of my depth. When I think about it now, I am in awe of how much I managed to cram in. I came home feeling the fullness of being human.
I felt emancipated. That in somehow travelling so far and overcoming so much (night time bus crashes, getting on the wrong long distance train, dealing with gropers on buses, finding a goat loose in my room, and all the dietary excitement (if ya see what I mean!)), I became so much more grown up. I was no longer someone’s little girl, I had proven I could look after myself in the big wide world.
I have a sense that if you’re interacting with me now, there’s probably a part of you too that has experienced a heady life that for others would be perceived as being out of the ordinary. And there’s a good chance that you don’t appreciate how extraordinary you really are. So there you are bodding along in the disguise of a normal looking life, whilst underneath beats the heart of an alchemist, a maverick, a scintillation seeker.
You may have seen it in your friend groups. There is a yearning to strike a balance between the contentment they experience in their roles at this point of life- whether that’s as a parent/carer or in their career, and the frustration they feel by, often, those same commitments. It’s a dichotomy that the things that make us happy can also feel like the things that weigh us down.
But what if, instead of seeking balance, we accept our personal requirement for adventure, freedom and scintillation? That we desire awe and wonder and beauty in regular doses to satisfy our souls and choose to say yes to this.
By overcoming your inner monologue that it’s selfish to put your wants first, you give permission to yourself to become fulfilled. By allowing yourself to pursue your happiness and by communicating this clearly and with respectful boundaries, you send out a message that you appreciate yourself, which in turn ripples out into our family and life connections as assuredness and confidence.
I’m not inferring you take on a ‘Superhero’ mentality of trying to be all the things to all the people. That’s straight up exhausting. However, when you surround yourself with others that believe that there is more to this wonderful game of life that merely existing things get a lot more fun!
As we speed into the end of year now is a good time to think about what fun and adventure you’d like to have in 2022. Maybe take a moment to dream, or ask your younger self what they would have you do.
And if you’d like any support in doing this, I’m here with 1 to 1 sessions to help you map it all out.
Big love,
Carrie