How I designed my lifetime dream of world travel
Chapter 6: The journey began before I even boarded the plane
Welcome to Chapter 6 of Love at First Flight, my round-the-world travel memoir.
In this chapter, I dive into the excitement and nerves of planning my dream trip. From choosing destinations to saying heartfelt goodbyes, I was ready to leave my old life behind and begin something new.
You can read chapters 1 to 5 here.
I wasn’t sure why I’d chosen India—maybe India had chosen me. Yoga had become part of my routine and curiosity about its birthplace, or perhaps the allure of Goa’s hippie beaches, had drawn me in. Either way, here I was, boarding a plane. Alone. Heading straight for Mumbai with a one-way ticket.
What the hell am I doing? Am I actually insane?
As I shuffled up the aisle, scanning the row numbers, memories whirled of the frantic planning, farewell parties and minor panic attacks that had led me here.
Turning a dream into reality
Three months earlier in London, the notice period was ticking down on both my job and my flat. This was a countdown I could get behind—not the biological clock we’re taught to fear, but the thrill of booking the round-the-world adventure I’d dreamed about since my teens.
Glancing at my vision board, I thought about the kind of experience I wanted. After all, there are endless ways to see the world and a limitless buffet of experiences to have along the way. Normally, I’d pile my plate high, but this time I wanted to be more discerning.
My ideal trip, I decided, needed to be about peace, spirituality and fun. After years of stressful days and sleepless nights, my body and mind craved calm. For me—perhaps bizarrely—that meant ditching my whole life for the ultimate adventure. But to where exactly?
The first destination
The travel agent joked she’d much rather organise a complex round-the-world expedition than another package holiday to Spain. An experienced explorer herself, she advised me to head east from London Heathrow to minimise jetlag, making Mumbai—a manageable nine hours away—a natural first stop.
In the spirit of slow travel, we pencilled in a month for India. I had no idea what I’d end up doing there. See the Taj Mahal? Sail Kerala’s backwaters? Stay in an ashram in Pune? It was overwhelming.
By chance, I found an article on the world’s top yoga retreats, which highlighted Goa. This seemed like the perfect place to ease into the whirlwind of India. I’d worry about the rest later.
As we talked, I ticked off destinations from my vision board, like travel bingo.
Curating my route
Borneo was a dream destination—I longed to see its endangered orangutans in the wild. So, from India, my next stop would be Malaysia’s capital, Kuala Lumpur, as a gateway to this tropical island.
Then came Bali, inspired by Eat, Pray, Love—a chance to explore the temples and rice paddies. Though, unlike Elizabeth Gilbert, I wasn’t planning to consult any ancient fortune-tellers.
Australia was a given, to see the famous Great Barrier Reef and the girls I’d visited Italy with a couple of years before. For New Zealand, I'd secured a working holiday visa, a safety net in case my savings ran low.
Finally, I’d return to the UK via South America, my wildcard destination. I pictured myself soaking up the energy of Chile, Rio and Buenos Aires. No set itinerary—simply a desire to be swept up in whatever came my way.
Keeping things loose
Though my flight destinations were fixed, the timings were flexible. I wanted to discover the world at my own rhythm. No hectic tour groups for me. This was my time now.
For my first few nights’ accommodation, I booked a teepee at a yoga resort on a quiet beach in Goa, leaving the rest to fate. After all, spontaneity was part of the adventure.
But it turned out I wasn’t the only one planning a global expedition.
Twin itineraries
I’d met Sarah at a workshop a year earlier on turning personal demons into allies. We’d both cringed at the idea of sharing our inner critic’s monologues with the group. She was also mulling over a career gap year to explore the world.
Over drinks one evening in London, we compared travel plans, only to discover our itineraries were nearly identical. Departing for India the same month, then Bali, then Australia, ending in South America—what were the odds?
Knowing our paths would cross was comforting. Solo travel is courageous, but the thought of seeing a familiar face was a gift from the cosmos. We joked about meeting up on a tropical beach in Bali—two kindred spirits on parallel paths.
Final preparations
No journey of this magnitude comes without anxiety. From the moment I booked my ticket, two months before departure, my mind buzzed with ‘what ifs.’
To ease my worries, I bought comprehensive global travel insurance, and noted locations of embassies and hospitals. A travel doctor made sure I had all the required vaccinations, and I made digital copies of my passport, hoping I wouldn’t need any of these.
I’d never looked more miserable than in the photo for my India visa, but getting this done was a step closer towards my freedom.
Loneliness was another big fear, so I booked a two-week chakra healing course in Goa. This way, I’d meet like-minded people and build on what I’d been learning about the root chakra. I still had work to do to feel safe and secure on this trip by myself.
Letting go of baggage
Sorting through my belongings was bittersweet. These were things I’d bought over the years as tiny shots of happiness to puncture my blues. Turns out, a pair of kitten-heel boots doesn’t cure depression. So I sold them. I sold as much as I could. Experience over things became my new mantra—even if those kitten heels were cute.
Each eBay sale lightened my load, physically and emotionally. Clothes, art, books—my family kindly stored what I couldn’t part with, gradually making space for the new me.
A month before my flight, it was time to leave my cosy London apartment. I packed my final bags to take to my parents’ house. But as I struggled to close the zip on one last bulky bag, I wondered how on earth I’d manage this journey alone. My breath quickened, my head spun, and I might have blacked out for a moment.
There was still so much baggage weighing me down. And now, I needed to decide what to carry forward with me.
Filling my backpack
Packing for a year is like playing Tetris. There I was, two weeks out, in my parents’ living room, trying to cram my worldly possessions into a single 60-litre backpack. Fewer clothes than I’d take on a two-week holiday? If I didn’t laugh, I’d cry. But I was determined to embrace the minimalist life (sort of).
I managed to squeeze in a few t-shirts, harem pants, sturdy sandals, a cap, yoga gear, thermals and a sarong, along with essentials like a mosquito net, water purifier and travel soap. I stocked up on anti-malarial tablets and packed a mini pharmacy. An avid reader, I slipped in gifted travel guides and autobiographies, including an Anthony Bourdain memoir. These books were heavy, but necessary.
Thinking of the warnings for solo female travellers in India, I took my late grandmother’s ring, a symbolic shield to wear on my wedding finger if I was uncomfortable. It felt like she was joining me.
And, of course, I packed my laptop, so I could write my blog.
Journalling my journey
I didn’t know much about websites, but I managed to launch a travel blog, which, on a whim, I’d called Backpacking Bella.
The name felt right—a nod to Italy and a reminder of the bulging backpack I’d be carrying. This blog would be my space to document the voyage and rediscover my voice.
I published my first post, announcing the trip and revealing my first destination: Goa. Friends and family were my first readers, and then, surprisingly, readers from around the world started checking out my blog. That inspired me to keep writing.
Leaving my friends was hard, but we threw farewell parties, laughing through the sadness. Saying goodbye to my family at Heathrow made everything feel real. I didn’t know when I’d see them again, and now, there was no turning back.
Taking flight
I slid into my seat on the plane, still wondering what the hell I was doing.
A lone female adventurer, heading to India. Not exactly a country known for being safe or predictable. But here I was, punching through my comfort zone and speeding headfirst into this.
After take-off, I watched the UK fade from view as we pierced a thick blanket of winter-grey clouds. Suddenly, we emerged into a vast, open blue sky, like a gasp of fresh air.
No matter the storms below, the sun always shines in this expanse of sky. It’s boundless, steady and patiently observing, even as the rains fall beneath like tears. I wished there were somewhere like this within me too—a place beyond the fog of depression, where peace and clarity rise above the chaos.
Despite my worries, this trip was what I needed—to break away from everything that kept me stuck and step into a life of freedom, inspiration and spontaneity. So I decided to be spontaneous.
You’re not alone
I struck up a conversation with the guy sitting next to me. Jay was also flying solo, heading to a wedding in Chennai, followed by a trip to the Andaman Islands.
After a brief chat, Jay and I checked out the in-flight entertainment. We picked the same romantic comedy, exchanging glances and laughing together as we watched on separate screens, sharing the moment.
In that instant, it felt like the universe was giving me a warm hug and a wink, like my grandmother used to do. I wasn’t really alone—I was part of a world filled with others on their own journeys.
And with that, I was on my way—leaving behind the familiar, flying towards the unknown, and excited for everything that lay ahead.
But first: Goa.
Read the next chapter here.
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In the next chapter, I reveal what happened during my first days in India and whether it’s how I imagined. Read it here.
Thinking about taking a career break to travel the world? Drop me a message—I'd love to chat about your plans.
The nervous anticipation of the unknown is relatable! My first trip to India I had a dozen cookies made my by mum stuffed into my bag. I cried eating those on the Aeroflot flight because I knew that my life was going to be so much more exciting and here I was, a grownup. Love it.
This is both so relatable and so compelling to read 🙌