It's Summer 2001, and I'm in Europe on my first solo trip. I'd been out of the country on family vacations and spent a semester abroad in Melbourne, but I'm flying without a net for the first time. After visiting friends in London I'm off to Amsterdam, the city of legend where pot is legal and there are scantily clad women in windows.
I could only get online in Internet cafes and the first iPhone is still six years away, so on the plane I eagerly pore over my Lonely Planet and paper map. I'm naively unaware of European August vacation culture and assume I can rock up to a hostel and get a bed on Saturday. I was sorely mistaken.
Four hours and many miles later, it's clear there's not a single available room or bed in central Amsterdam that I can afford. I'm in a real pickle and worried. Out of options, there's nothing left to do but swallow my fear and leave it up to fate. I check my backpack into a locker at Centraal Station then spend the evening partaking at cafes and wandering the narrow streets and iconic bridges over concentric canals. I strike up conversations with other travelers, but no one has even a patch of floor for me to crash on.
I find a techno club that stays open till 4am and get a ticket, figuring I could pull an all-nighter. At worst, I could catch a couple hours of sleep on a bench at the train station and hopefully have better luck on a Sunday. On the dance floor at 2am I meet Luna, a Taiwanese student renting a houseboat for the summer. She has a padded bench on the boat where I can stay for a couple nights.
Over the next two days I experienced Amsterdam as I wouldn't have otherwise. Luna showed me her favorite parks, museums, and restaurants - and even taught me poi. Afterward, on a whim, I took a train north to Harlingen, a coastal town where almost no one spoke English. I saw historic sailing ships and ferried to an island where I rode a rented bike along the path on the beach. After Amsterdam I was confident that whatever happened, I'd figure it out.
I've carried this confidence with me in all aspects of life since. Whenever a new challenge or big life transition scares me, I remind myself that I'm the guy who always finds a way in unfamiliar circumstances. And I always do.
That was also the moment I got bitten by the travel bug. And not just traveling, but traveling without an agenda - leaving room for the random. Over the years since I have had the most incredible experiences with people I met just a couple hours prior. Live music, picturesque nature, house parties, secret restaurants where only locals go - things I could never plan for, even with my phone. And they’ve made my travel so much richer.
23 years later, following a divorce, I put my self-faith and love for serendipity to the extreme test. I set out to spend a week in each US state with as little planning as possible. You can follow that journey at 50statesofmatt.com
Yes, and...
Matt
