With the blood rushing in my ears, my lungs feeling empty, and my fingers tingling, lacking the dexterity required, I attempted to crawl across the cables of a stunning via ferrata over a waterfall in the gorgeous Champery region of Switzerland.
One particular guide, in an attempt to lighten the mood, laughs, “You’re crying, why are you crying? You’re fine. Let’s go!” From the other end of the single cable walkway, the other guide, Lloyd, reassures me that there’s a bailout point just past this section. All I have to do is walk a couple of meters across the rushing waterfall, and I can exit stage left.
Behind me, a newfound friend echoes my sentiments, the step up in difficulty of this particular via ferrata being just one step too far for enjoyment or mental health’s sake.
In the weeks leading up to this adventurous trip around Switzerland, I’d researched the two via ferratas we’d be doing. The one a few days before had been exhilarating and fun. Relatively low-lying through a canyon in Saas-Fee, it felt like an outdoorsy version of Go Ape.
Fast-forward a few days, and the level had been racked up a few notches. Being able to see the exposed via ferrata line from our hotel balcony the night before had done nothing to quell the crippling fear of heights that I was hoping to overcome. Combined with a slow pace along the start sections and the anticipation, it gave my irrational brain time to think and catastrophise. All in all, the perfect recipe for a breakdown.
You may ask why someone with a crippling fear of heights may willingly choose to go on not one but two via ferratas in the Swiss Alps, knowing that this could be a problem. Well, after years of trying different activities of increasing severity, I always endeavour to push my fears to the limit, in the hope that one day, they cease to exist.
However, crying in a harness on a Swiss waterfall that took me all of five seconds to cross was somewhat of a low point.
Travel should push you out of your comfort zone
Many people agree that travel should push you out of your comfort zone and make you face uncomfortable things about yourself. You should come back changed in some way. I agree with this wholeheartedly. New experiences will always leave a mark. Being scared is not a reason to stay home and avoid the realities of the world, however appealing it might be.
Similarly, there’s a line between pushing yourself and actively having an awful time. There’s also a line between being uncomfortable and being in danger.
In my daily life, my friends and family will concur that I am a control freak. For better or worse, I like to know what’s going on and what’s around the corner. This usually involves intense research and my anxiety playing out all eventualities in my head for the best (and worst) possible outcomes. This is the life of many writers, especially freelance ones. You are the master of your ship.
So, when I travel, I try to give up this control to the best of my abilities. Trusting others and not letting irrational fears get in the way is how we grow as people, and travel allows me to do that. Some trips with more success than others. Some more severe than others.
As I’ve mentioned, heights are one of my biggest fears. And yet, I’ve bungee jumped over a lake in Taupo, New Zealand, and ziplined through canopies in Antigua, and sped above slate mines in North Wales. None of these experiences filled me with dread. I learned quickly that it’s the anticipation that kills you in these moments. In these other instances, I didn’t have to wait around. I didn’t have time to reckon with the reality of what could happen, no matter how irrational. If I just jump and don’t blink, it will all be fine. The less planning and forethought, the better. Sometimes spontaneity is key – something I’m lacking when I try to control everything.
If at first you don’t succeed…
Travel is also about persistence. Sometimes things won’t go as you want them to, but you keep trying. Whether that’s trying to find the perfect ramen in Japan or you keep checking the weather window for the perfect hiking views in the mountains. You have to have persistence and take time to think, “yes, this is something worth trying again”.
This thought was abundantly clear one day in the Monteverde Cloud Forest in Costa Rica. An incredible nature reserve, filled with intense greenery, wildlife, and the famous red hanging suspension bridges. You can already see my concerns. Of course, I wanted to walk across them, to look out into the mist of the cloud forest and embrace the sounds and smells of the reserve.
The first step was fine, solid, easy. The second, however, bounced and swung under my feet. The stability I felt mentally and physically was shattered in an instant. Looking back at my friend, she could see the panic in my eyes. I tried to move another step forward, but the fear had taken hold. No misty views or Instagram-ready bridge photo for me.
However, that is not where the story ends. Traipsing around the incredible trails of the Cloud Forest, my annoyance at myself started to eat away. I was pissed off. What do you mean I couldn’t walk to the middle of a stable bridge that holds thousands of tourists a day?
Looking at the trail map, we looped around to the opposite side of the hanging bridges. With an unconvinced look from my friend, I took a deep breath and tried again. I wasn’t about to be beaten by a bridge. Determined, I strode out onto the bridge, expecting the wobble and bounce I felt before. In a few steps, I was in the middle of the bridge, experiencing the wonder that I’d been dreaming about since we booked our tickets months before.
Part of why this was so magical was because I was proud of making myself try again. I knew I’d be kicking myself for years if I didn’t. If I tried this earlier on in my travel years, I’d have abandoned hope and accepted that this wasn’t going to be something I was capable of. That’s why I keep doing the things that scare me when I travel. To push myself, to open up what I think is possible for myself, and bring myself joy when I achieve things I didn’t realise I was capable of doing.
Travel and control
It might seem counterintuitive to say that giving up control is a crucial part of solo travel, or adventure travel in general. After all, you need to make sure you have somewhere to sleep and know the safest trails or the way home. While this is true, there is something to letting go and allowing things to happen, especially because things will happen that are completely out of your control. For someone with anxiety, this pill took a long time to swallow.
Something awful can happen at any time, no matter where you are. It doesn’t stop you from getting up in the morning and trying to get on to the best of your abilities. While we all hope something awful doesn’t happen, that’s often something out of our control. Realising that and accepting that opens up a world of possibilities, especially when it comes to travel.
Giving up control terrifies me as someone who is so self-reliant, from being self-employed to traveling solo. Accepting that sometimes, there is truly nothing you can do to prevent bad things from happening, no matter how much you plan, is something that is invaluable in life and in travel.
Final thoughts on fear and travel
So, why do I keep doing things that scare me when I travel? Well, every time I try, whether I’m successful or not, I learn something about myself.
Would I have completed that via ferrata in Champery if the pace of the group was a little faster and I didn’t have to wait and ruminate as much? Perhaps. Am I more resilient than I thought, and actually want to let go of the reins from time to time after my time in Sri Lanka? Absolutely. Having the safety net of a group tour on that trip was huge – if I’d been solo out there during the same period, things would’ve felt very different. I know that I like having support and giving up control from time to time, to give my brain a break.
Travel lets us know ourselves better. This is never more apparent than when we’re afraid. Our fight-or-flight forces us to confront truths about ourselves, for better or worse. While there is definitely a line between rational and irrational fear – I’m not going to walk through a dangerous neighborhood alone at night any time soon for the sake of it – a good dose of healthy fear helps us feel alive and makes us push ourselves to achieve things we didn’t think possible.
