A Terrorist Attack Helped me Overcome my Travel Anxiety – Travellers’ Tales at Europe Diaries

For a few years, I changed and became a different person, completely against my will. I went from being someone who travelled fairly regularly – indeed, I had done a solo trip from my home in the UK to the USA – to someone who felt too anxious to leave the house most days. Travel was definitely off the table, even though it was something I’d wanted to do as much as possible since I was a child. My Travel Anxiety was really bad.

 

I can pinpoint the moment it happened almost precisely. I’d booked myself another solo trip to the US, travelling around Arizona and Utah this time, when I hit a bit of a rough patch in the job I was doing at the time. My boss was a bully; she’d forced out several members of the team already by making their lives unbearable (seemingly for no reason other than her own enjoyment), and it had come to be my turn.

 

With my confidence shot, the anxiety I’d previously managed to keep under control suddenly became all-consuming. I felt useless, worthless, and just wanted to stay in the safety of my house.

 

I quit my job, hating that I gave my boss the satisfaction of getting what she wanted, but no longer able to face the daily cycle of going to work, enduring a torrent of put-downs, and returning in tears. But, because I already felt so vulnerable and so anxious – I could barely eat – I cancelled my trip to America, only a week before I was due to depart. I lost the entire booking cost of £1500.

 

Looking back, travel became something that my mind deemed I was no longer capable of doing. I was too anxious, too useless, it was too dangerous – a large part of me cancelling the trip was worrying about the 15-hour flight and convincing myself that I’d get DVT – that is if the plane didn’t careen to the ground in flames first.

 

So for years, I went nowhere. I still loved the idea of travel, but I accepted that it was something that happened to other people, not to me.

 

Things changed in June 2017, thanks to a horrific terrorist attack. Yes, a terrorist attack helped me overcome my anxiety – go figure.

 

On 3rd June 2017, I spent the day with my boyfriend at Borough Market in London. We spent the day there; looking around the market, sampling fresh slices of bread and chutneys, and taking photos on London Bridge.

 

Our plan was to retire to Katzenjammers bierkeller that evening to watch the Champions League final (I’m a huge soccer fan; my boyfriend is a huge German beer fan), and then to go back to his place.

 

But we changed our plans.

 

After a full day spent in the area, we departed in the evening to watch the game in front of the television with a takeaway curry.

 

Almost as soon as we got through the door, we heard a news bulletin saying that there’d been a terrorist attack in London. As if this wasn’t shocking enough, we then heard that the attack had occurred on London Bridge, and in the area of Borough Market. People had taken cover hiding beneath the tables in Katzenjammers. We’d missed it by a couple of hours.

 

READ: Is London more beautiful in the fog? 

My first reaction was shock and fear. I had to go back to London a couple of days later, and my boyfriend had to escort me through the Underground until I reached my station: I was so scared of something happening again.

 

I got to Blackfriars Station, which is situated on a bridge over the River Thames, and looked back towards London Bridge. I could still faintly see police tape flapping in the breeze. And something within me changed again.

 

I suddenly didn’t want to be held back by fear. The majority of the people who had died in the attack had been travellers, out enjoying their lives before they were cruelly cut short. I felt like I should follow their example, and do what they were sadly no longer able to: Follow my travel dreams and live my life in their memory.

 

So I booked a trip to Italy.

 

It’s quite hard to get back into travel and to beat the travel anxiety when you’ve been out of that world for a while. As my departure date got closer, I felt a sense of dread. I enrolled on an excellent travel anxiety course which helped immeasurably; I sat in my bed reading it the night before I was due to depart, trying to quell my nerves.

 

When I got to the airport, I felt like I was going to die. But I forced myself on, through security, and on to the plane. I sat in my seat, mobile phone gripped in my clammy hands, ready to give goodbye calls to loved ones should the worst occur.

 

And then the plane took off, rising above the clouds, and letting sunlight stream into the cabin. Everything from my course came flooding back into my mind, and I suddenly breathed and relaxed. I was in travel mode again – the best form of mindfulness there is.

 

When I travel, I’m just thinking about the present. I’m not worried about the future or mulling over things from my past. And I was heading for Italy! Culture! Sunshine! Barrels of gelato!

 

My first day there challenged me. From my base of operations in Sorrento – a perfect spot for exploring the Naples/Amalfi Coast region – I bought a ticket for a bus to Positano. Ticket purchased using my basic Italian skills was my first hurdle overcome!

 

READ: Italy Wonders: Beautiful places to consider for your Italy vacations

 

I sat on the side of the bus which I knew was the coast side, with its stomach-dropping views down to the ocean and rocks below, and didn’t freak out once; my second hurdle overcome!

 

I hopped off the bus in Positano, soaking in the sunshine and the glamorous views, and congratulated myself on a successful integration back into an awesome traveller again.

 

The problems started to occur when it was time to go back to Sorrento.

 

I was laden down with a heavy camera, a heavier bag of lemon candies, and not enough water. And for some reason unbeknown to me, I had convinced myself that the only bus which returned to Sorrento was at a particular bus stop, located up an extremely steep flight of steps. It somehow didn’t occur to me that buses generally run on roads, and therefore I could’ve walked on one of those. But heck, at the time those steps didn’t look so bad.

 

About halfway up, I realised that these steps had been specially constructed to lure tourists to their doom. I half expected a cage door to slide open on one of the surrounding apartment buildings, and a couple of hungry tigers to emerge.

 

More realistically, I realised that I was actually climbing up one of the mountainsides that had looked so pretty from the beach. But this was my only way back to Sorrento, even though it looked curiously quiet, so I carried on, starting to gasp in the hot midday sun.

 

A slight feeling of panic descended. I sped up in my ascent, desperate to find out if I was actually going in the right direction, which of course made things worse. I was so high up that my ears popped. Out of water, confused, panicking, I slumped down into a doorway thinking that my renewed life as a traveller will have been only a short one, and waiting for the vultures to descend. I only hoped that the people who owned the house I was collapsed in front of would scoop up my remains.

 

Wait – a house. Houses are generally connected to roads. Roads!!

 

I picked myself up, controlled the panic, and doggedly kept climbing the steps. After asking some exhausted questions of a motorcyclist – I’d forgotten how to speak Italian by this point – I found the road! And I found the bus stop! And I realised that I could’ve caught the same bus down by the beach. Oh.

 

But the important part was that I’d beaten the travel anxiety. It had gotten its claws into me, but I hadn’t given in. It was a start.

 

A few days later, I was in Capri. Another hot day: I needed a scarf around my neck to stop myself from burning. And I decided that what better activity to do on Capri than go for a bit of a hike? It would get me away from the crowds, and Capri is a place of outstanding natural beauty. I’d found a hiking trail which was marked on my map, and it didn’t seem too challenging. Perfect.

 

READ: Practical tips for travelling alone

 

I made my way to the start of the trail, and found a defibrillator attached to the start sign, “for emergency use”.

 

Now, previously, this would’ve really panicked me. I probably would’ve abandoned the whole venture, at the thought of having to be dragged off the trail (which was obviously a death-trap) and resuscitated by shooting electric voltage through me. But I did something that surprised me and made me low-key proud.

 

I shrugged and carried on.

 

Doing something a little bit brave, something that squishes that anxiety down a little, is an addictive feeling, and makes you want to start pushing your boundaries a little more. So, on my hike, I inched out on to rocks which were overhanging the sea far below, to get that perfect photo. I went down lesser-taken trails. I didn’t panic when confronted with another steep staircase; I just took them a bit slower than I had in Positano. I explored a cave with a Roman shrine in it. And then I got to the end of the trail and discovered that I’d done it the wrong way around, and those sensible people started here so that they didn’t have to climb the steps. Oh.

 

But I’m glad that I did the trail backwards. It was another little push out of my comfort zone, and it dispelled the newly-acquired fears about flights of steps. I felt better equipped to beat my travel anxiety.

 

Over the next few days, I experienced other things that made me anxious, and I conquered them all. I travelled by public transport to Herculaneum, which I’d been advised not to do because of a risk of mugging – I had no problems, and actually enjoyed the experience. I went to Naples, a city which everyone online seemed to be freaking out about, and encountered no trouble. I chatted to Italians about football, in Italian. I went off the beaten path in Amalfi and dodged cars which screeched around tight corners towards me.

 

All of it made me realise that travel is what I want to do in life, and I would happily travel every day.

 

After I returned, I booked and planned as many trips as possible: The first stepping stone towards becoming a true nomad. Beating travel anxiety, and using my time to travel, has opened my world in ways that I couldn’t have imagined. I have seen things I never thought I’d see, have made friends I’d never have met, and revealed a creative, cultured side of myself.

 

Travel really can change your life, if you let it.

 

Note: Story by Nicky Cade from That Anxious Traveller. Connect with Nicky on Twitter: @thatanxiousblog, Facebook: thatanxioustraveller  or Instagram .  Have a personal story to share? Write to me at europediaries(at)gmail.com and share your story in the ‘Traveller’s Tales’ series. 

 

 

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