Sometimes, travel inspiration comes from the most unlikely of places. On a not-so-intrepid trip to the local salon, I hoped to gain a fresh new \u2018do. But I left with so much more.<\/strong>\u00a0<\/p>\n I shift in my seat, let out a yawn and catch a glimpse of my washed-out face in the mirror. There\u2019s a smear of crusty Weetabix on my shoulder. At least I hope it\u2019s Weetabix. As I rub my bleary eyes and try to wake up, a young woman arrives to swoosh a hairdresser\u2019s cape around my neck. Good \u2013 that\u2019ll cover a multitude of sins. Now to deal with the bird\u2019s nest on my head.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u2018So\u2026 You sure you want to stick with the side part?\u2019, she asks with what I swear is a hint of a wince.\u00a0<\/p>\n I suddenly feel conspicuously millennial. The cape may be hiding the detritus of my toddler\u2019s breakfast, but it\u2019s not long enough to cover the skinny jeans. Or the fact that I\u2019m wearing no-show socks. \u00a0<\/p>\n I nod defiantly and tug at the tufty postpartum regrowth around my temples, which has decided to do me a solid and emerge almost entirely white. God, I feel old.<\/em>\u00a0<\/p>\n I never used to worry too much about ageing \u2013 it\u2019s a privilege, after all. But recently, the process has felt palpable. Painful, even. There\u2019s something about spending every minute of every hour of every day with a baby that makes you feel ancient. The physical, mental and emotional toll of keeping a brand-new person alive has left me exhausted. At this point, I am a husk of a human.\u00a0<\/p>\n And now my youthful stylist Millie, with her glowy complexion and unscuppered sleep hygiene, is here to rub salt into the wound. Chatting while she scrubs my scalp over the sink, she divulges that she has just turned 19.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u2018What?! Oh\u2026 Happy birthday! Wow\u2026\u2019, I tail off, plunging us into awkward silence. It takes a beat for my tired brain to process the fact that I\u2019m leaving my hair at the mercy of someone born in the MID-NOUGHTIES. How is that possible? There are almost two decades between us, but here we are, both grown adults. God, I AM old.<\/em>\u00a0<\/p>\n She tries to salvage the conversation with some small talk.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u2018Erm\u2026 any holidays planned?\u2019\u00a0<\/p>\n She\u2019s in the right ballpark with this one, but unfortunately, these days the answer is even more depressing than my drab outfit and outdated hairstyle.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n \u2018Not at the moment,\u2019 I offer, weakly.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n I like to think of myself as a traveller but saying it out loud feels fraudulent. The pandemic, IVF treatment and new motherhood mean I\u2019ve barely been anywhere for five years. Still \u2013 the subject matter stirs something within me. Millie has unwittingly tapped into a dormant passion of mine. One that, until that moment, I had put firmly on the back burner.\u00a0<\/p>\n Clockwise from top left: Emma in Budapest, Hungary; K\u2019gari\/Fraser Island, Australia; Fiji; Hawaii, USA; Bangkok, Thailand; Florence, Italy; Colorado, USA<\/em><\/p>\n In my mind, I\u2019m 23. Travel is my true love, my preoccupation, my purpose. I could set out from my home in Wales<\/a> to go interrailing across Europe<\/a> at a moment\u2019s notice, or zip to South East Asia<\/a> for a journey of self-discovery without a second thought. All I need is my backpack, passport and a healthy-ish bank account. I\u2019m young and carefree, with \u2013 and this one\u2019s crucial \u2013 a spine that can handle overnight buses and unfamiliar pillows.\u00a0<\/p>\n I feel a twinge of envy \u2013 at her plans, her youth and the endless possibilities that lay before her. But it\u2019s quickly subsumed by an urge to cheer her on. <\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/figure>\n In reality, I\u2019m frighteningly close to 40. I have a child, a long-term partner, a hefty mortgage and two cats \u2013 and a long list of physio exercises I (should) do daily to prevent debilitating neck spasms. Spur-of-the-moment trips<\/a> feel impossible. I don\u2019t recognise who I am anymore, but I certainly have no time to \u2018find myself\u2019 on a beach in Bali<\/a>.\u00a0<\/p>\n I return the question, and Millie tells me she\u2019s off to Morocco<\/a> on her first solo adventure soon and spending Christmas alone in the Nordics. She has ambitions to see Vietnam<\/a> and floats the idea of living in Australia<\/a> for a year or two. I feel a twinge of envy \u2013 at her plans, her youth and the endless possibilities that lay before her. But it\u2019s quickly subsumed by an urge to cheer her on. To tell her, yes \u2013 you are making the right decision. Go now. Go far. You absolutely will not regret it.\u00a0<\/p>\n Generational style wars swiftly forgotten, we spend the next hour exchanging travel tips and stories as she snips off my split ends. I tell her about the time I walked across Bangkok<\/a> to find the visa office with no smartphone and only a hand-drawn map to guide me (revealing that I am in fact a dinosaur) and how I still dream of going to India<\/a>.\u00a0<\/p>\n Millie reveals that she is newly single and feels lighter, freer \u2013 and that\u2019s partly why she\u2019s dedicating herself to fulfilling her travel goals. \u2018He never wanted to do anything, or go anywhere,\u2019 she says with a sigh. Her determination doubled when a friend flaked out on a girls\u2019 trip after getting back together with an ex.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n I eyeroll hard in solidarity. Maybe it\u2019s my maternal instincts going into overdrive, but I feel weirdly protective and proud of her for not giving in to peer pressure or cancelling plans because others let her down. I\u2019m tempted to dismiss these dramas and tell her they\u2019re simply not worth stressing over, because, well, been there, done that<\/em>. But I\u2019ve never subscribed to that lazy phrase. Millie\u2019s clearly at a different point in her journey than I am. It\u2019s not for me to tell her which route to take. She seems to be on the right track anyway.\u00a0<\/p>\n She tells me about her unconventional childhood, hopping across Europe<\/a> with her bohemian parents and ragtag crew of siblings. When she shares that her adventurous, fun-loving father died unexpectedly only a few years ago, I gasp. The same happened to me when I was just 17. In disbelief, Millie shows me the goosebumps on her arms \u2013 it\u2019s shocking us both how much we have in common.\u00a0<\/p>\n A moment passes. \u2018People say it will get easier,\u2019 she says, holding my gaze in the mirror. \u2018Does it?\u2019\u00a0<\/p>\n The hairdryer roars in my ears.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n \u2018It does\u2026\u2019 I affirm. \u2018But it never goes away. My dad\u2019s actually a big reason I\u2019ve travelled so much,\u2019 I continue. \u2018Because when you lose someone too young, like we have, you fully understand the phrase, \u201clife\u2019s too short\u201d. And I feel a duty to live mine to the full.\u2019\u00a0<\/p>\n More nods and knowing smiles from Millie. The silence that follows more comfortable this time.\u00a0<\/p>\n A strange feeling hits me as I watch us both in the mirror. It\u2019s like I\u2019m talking to myself 20 years ago. I was once just like her \u2013 young and hopeful, with the world at my feet and a bravery in the face of grief that few people could fathom. Again, this makes me feel old, but not unhappily so. Because Millie has shown me that I\u2019m wise too, in a way. Yes, my dress sense may be mocked on TikTok, but when it comes to travel \u2013 and having the guts to get out there, no matter what life throws your way \u2013 I know my stuff.\u00a0<\/p>\n I bounce out of the salon with a fresh new trim, side part intact, and a spring in my step. I feel a new sense of acceptance. The old \u2013 or should I say young and carefree \u2013 version of me is gone. But my deep love of travel and connecting with new people and places lives on. I only temporarily misplaced it. It got lost somewhere on my journey to motherhood \u2013 like a piece of luggage at JFK, tangled and buried under all sorts of other baggage. I\u2019ve been too busy to even realise it was missing. Today, I\u2019ve experienced the conversational equivalent of retrieving a case full of treasured possessions, against all the odds.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n One day, I\u2019ll take these rediscovered parts of my identity \u2013 my curiosity, my insatiable wanderlust, my intrepidness \u2013 out on the road again. And with any luck, I\u2019ll pass these traits on to my boy as he grows. For now, it\u2019s enough to simply remember that they still exist. To reminisce about the experiences that have shaped me and share them with other inquisitive souls \u2013 like Millie, who is clearly on the cusp of so many enriching adventures. To pass on the message to anyone who needs to hear it \u2013 that if there\u2019s a little voice inside you telling you to see the world, listen to it. You absolutely will not regret it.\u00a0<\/p>\n Whatever life stage you\u2019re at, Intrepid has an adventure for you. Choose from <\/strong>18 to 35s trips<\/strong><\/a>, <\/strong>family holidays<\/strong><\/a>, <\/strong>women\u2019s expeditions<\/strong><\/a>, <\/strong>active adventures<\/strong><\/a> and more.<\/strong>\u00a0<\/p>\n<\/p><\/div>\n\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Sometimes, travel inspiration comes from the most unlikely of places. On a not-so-intrepid trip to the local salon, I hoped to gain a fresh new \u2018do. But I left with so much more.\u00a0 I shift in my seat, let out a yawn and catch a glimpse of my washed-out face in the mirror. There\u2019s a […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":184086,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11760],"tags":[3164,72563,72564,1533,8087],"dealstore":[],"offerexpiration":[],"class_list":["post-184085","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-adventure","tag-adventure","tag-hairdressers","tag-rekindled","tag-sense","tag-trip"],"yoast_head":"\nBridging the generation gap<\/strong>\u00a0<\/h2>\n
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<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\nA shared love of travel<\/strong>\u00a0<\/h2>\n
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A serendipitous encounter<\/strong>\u00a0<\/h2>\n
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A different kind of journey<\/strong>\u00a0<\/h2>\n