My worst travelling experience

 My worst travelling experience was actually my best one as well. I was eighteen when my best friend and I applied to spend three months in Bretagne, France. In retrospect, we should’ve known better: the participants were hardly informed about the details of these three months. We were young and adventurous though, so we didn’t hesitate for a minute.

I was sent to a very small (and when I say small, I mean really, really, really small) village, where mostly pensioners lived. I was assigned to work in an animal park, where 85% of the staff was handicapped. Just think about it. When you turn eighteen and leave for France, this isn’t what you expect as your biggest adventure ever. You imagine a city full of life, not a countryside where there’s hardly any Internet connection. You see yourself working at a romantic French café or bar, not in an animal park.

This was my worst travelling experience – until one day I let go of my expectations. After a while I started to enjoy the freshness of the country, the calmness of the village and the company of my co-workers. After accepting the fact, that it wasn’t the adventure I pictured, I learnt how to stop from time to time and just be grateful for what I actually have in that given moment, what’s more, how to be in peace with just myself. I gained patience, tolerance and I’d like to think that I matured a lot. Can you see now why this is my best experience too?