When I returned from Europe in 2008, I made a promise to myself that I would travel once a year in an attempt to gradually see the world and refresh myself of the robotic, repetitious, rushed existence that I lived out back home. I made it to Japan in 2009, which was an amazing experience, but beyond a few interstate trips I did not leave Australia for three years following, breaking my very own promise in fine fashion.
I went against a constant gut instinct to take off and travel extensively for some time, to South America or Asia, and opted instead for an unsuccessful attempt at balancing work and my architecture degree, constantly worrying about the two things that chew up many people´s lives: time and money. Big mistake.
In a spur of the moment, I booked a return flight to Buenos Aires. By chance, a friend forwarded me a sale fare promotion, knowing I was interested in travelling, somewhere, and that South America was on the cards. $1600, and the sale was going to end the same day I saw it. I knew if I didn’t do it at that moment, it may turn into several more months or umming and ahhing, so finally, after three years, it was set.