Small, mean and independent. By public transport
It was meant to be.
I was born a traveller.
The midwife received me with a backpack and trekking sandals. Parents, seeing such a miracle, sighed and began to indulge my passion in every possible way. From early childhood, I remember many roads that rolled under our wheels. Roads, roads, roads. . . I wandered.
In one school year, I changed schools three or four times.
To the question: "What do you like? " I always answered:
- I love the road.
I guess they asked me about sweets, but I love the road.
I like to ride, fly, swim and even walk, if not for a very long time.
I love the road so much that, being very small, I woke up at three in the morning to see my father on a business trip and drive with him to the nearest intersection on a huge tractor, the wheels of which were taller than his height. Then my mother and I landed and walked home. Lanterns were burning, casting long shadows on the road, they scared me a little when I was awake. I firmly held my mother's hand, nodded my nose and firmly knew that I would wake up again and again, just to go. It was my adventure - exciting, balancing on the verge of reality and fairy tale.
Trial first solo trip
I ran away from kindergarten at the age of five. She made a tunnel and, taking two more children, brought them home. When asked by my mother why I ran away, I, after thinking, answered that it was boring in the kindergarten.
- Why did you come to our house? Mom asked.
- The other parents will take us back.
Mom found herself in an uncomfortable situation) But, of course, she had to take us back. I didn’t know what kidnapping was then, but my mother probably knew.
Official first solo trip
My first solo trip is considered to be a trip to Asia in 2014. Singapore, Lombok, Bali. And a little bit of Bangkok.
Then I planned everything myself and everything worked out.
18 days, 8 flights, 6 hotels, 5 islands, 3 countries, 2 nights on planes, the most extreme point of land Eurasia, shows, attractions, temples, shopping, massage, snorkeling, altitude, speed, drive…
Short stories about this journey can be read at the links:
On your own in Bali. Part 3. Technical
On your own in Bali. Part 5. Ubud
On your own in Bali. Part 6. Last.
Bangkok. How to find your own adventures in an accelerated way
But my real independent journey was not then. Short of escaping kindergarten, I first traveled on my own at the age of ten.
A real first solo trip
Once we had a terrible quarrel with my sister. She was much older than me, at that time she was already married, had two kids and lived in a village in a neighboring region. My parents sent me to her for the summer, apparently with the aim of my recovery and some kind of help with the children. I won’t say that I felt so bad at my sister’s, but the desire to change places and the romanticism of my soul (as well as feature films of that time) inspired me to escape. I was offended, defiantly threw my things into a suitcase and slammed the door. First, the sister said in her hearts: “Well, go! ”. Then she ran after me, but could not catch up. Then she returned home to the children, and sent her husband to capture.
Having a clear plan and wasting no time, I ran to the bus station. I had no money, but I had two new books from a local store. I figured out how to exchange books for money on the way. Putting on the most mournful mine, I went up to the saleswoman.
- Yesterday I bought books from you.
– So what?
- My mother scolded me a lot.
– So what?
- We have nothing to buy milk for a little brother. Mom sent me for milk, and I bought books.
Sniffing a couple of times, I stood with my head down. My whole posture expressed boundless grief, shame and remorse. The hungry eyes of my brother looked into the soul of the saleswoman.
I can't take the books back, " she began.
I sobbed.
- Well, let me look at them, - she could not stand it, after all.
The books were new, although not bought yesterday. I have always been careful with books.
The saleswoman thought about it. I sobbed again. A lone tear. . . However, this time it was not possible to squeeze out a tear. But the ice broke, the poor woman sighed, took out the money and handed it to me.
Brother, this is sacred.
The first part of the plan was completed, it remained to buy a ticket.
The checkout was closed.
“Ambush, ” I thought angrily, and went between the buses, looking through the open doors.
To Kyiv? To Kyiv? I ask every driver.
No, no one goes to Kyiv, all flights are local. One of the drivers advises me to go back to the ticket office, there will be a passing bus soon, tickets will only be sold when the bus arrives, but it's better to take the queue now.
Of course I'm late. When the bus arrived, there was only one seat on it. The woman who was in line in front of me received the coveted ticket. But I didn’t get it.
– Please, I have to go!
– There are no vacancies.
I cried. It was such a shame! Such an injustice! There was no way, well, there was absolutely no way I could go back to my sister.
I really need to go home! My mother will meet me from this bus! She will be worried, we do not have a phone and she will not be able to find out that there were no tickets!
I understand that I am talking nonsense. But plaintively so howl:
- My grandmother is old, she can't drive me, but my mother will meet me!
Suddenly, a driver appeared next to me, apparently, he was at the box office all this time.
- Let's go. There are no seats and you will have to stand, but at the next stop one passenger will get off.
I joyfully galloped after the driver, wiping my tears. The second part of the plan worked!
- And the ticket? I ask belatedly, already near the bus.
– At the next stop, we will go to the ticket office and buy a ticket there.
Settling down to stand in the aisle, suddenly, through the window, I saw that my sister's husband was walking around the bus station. With a gray mouse, I rushed to the end of the cabin and perched on my suitcase. The bus sneezed, growled contentedly, and slowly taxied out of the bus station. "You will know how to offend me, " I thought vindictively. - "So you need it! Search now, whistle! ".
About fifteen minutes later, the bus stopped, the driver and I went to get a ticket. The cashier stared at me in surprise.
Where did you get it? Where are the parents?
- Parents will meet. Grandma saw off.
That's it. Either he understood my words about my grandmother literally, or he himself already realized that the child was completely homeless, and now he has to answer. We were given a ticket, I paid, having received change - 5 kopecks.
After an hour or a little more we arrived in Kyiv. Not far from the bus station - the final tram. Quickly grabbing my suitcase, I rush there like a bullet.
Where is mom? the driver shouts after me.
There she is! - I wave my hand in the direction of the stop.
The driver nods. Vigilant)
At the bus stop, I suddenly realize that I don't remember which number I need. I choose a woman with the kindest face, I ask which tram goes to the train. It turns out that there is only one tram here and it will take me where I need to go. I buy a ticket, I have 2 kopecks of free money left.
I can no longer buy a train ticket. You have to go as a rabbit. I settle down closer to the cheerful company of gypsies. They never check tickets.
It's getting colder. I took out a crumpled raincoat from my suitcase and began to completely merge with the camp)
My mother worked as a ticket clerk and had to be on shift that day. I get out at her station, but my mother is not in the window! Her shift works.
Where is mom?
- She followed you. And how did you end up here?
Oh my God! My sister does not have a phone, there is no way to tell me that I am already at home. Mom is now with her sister! And they are all looking for me! What should mom go through when she finds out that I'm missing? ! How can I fly! They will kill me! What to do?
I couldn't think of anything smarter than, when I got home, to hide my suitcase under the bed and grab my bike. Until the evening I rode in mental turmoil. Then she returned home in a bundle of sincere repentance.
Mom has already arrived. She gave me the first number and sent a telegram to my sister that I was found. The belt was heavy and my mother was very convincing, but they did not injure my desire to change places and the romanticism of my soul. I still love the road)
Everything is ahead.
The first one is the magic number. We strive to be the first, we appreciate our first experience, we remember the first kiss and the first love. The first journey is just as important to us as the first steps. But I thought: since I already had three first trips, then maybe more? ) I still have a chance to make my first trip - around the world!
Share your first solo trip! How was it?
