In Autumn of 2018, I found myself in the Chalkida province of Greece, traveling alone for the first time in my life. I took the trip to expand my comfort zone and experience a part of the world completely foreign to me. And yeah, to enjoy the beautiful Mediterranean. Visiting Greece is not supposed to sound like a chore.

I spent the first two weeks of the volunteering at a refugee camp hosting refugees from the Middle East and Africa. The experience was eye-opening and more emotional than I thought it would be.

After two weeks at the camp, I started to feel worn out. I decided to book a train to Athens and meet my Dad who was coming to visit me. The trip did not get off to a fast start. First, I managed to board the wrong train and started heading in the opposite direction of Athens. That’s when my phone decided it would be a good time to run out of battery. In Athens, tourists can get by without speaking Greek, but this was not the case in Chalkida and I struggled to find someone who understood my situation. I felt alone even though I was surrounded by people.

Embarrassed, I fumbled around the train, trying to build up the courage to ask strangers for help. Eventually, I met a friendly Greek couple who helped me transfer trains at a nearby station. It was late when I finally got to the hotel and all I wanted to do was relax for the next few days. My father’s flight would be getting in later that evening and I was sure he would want to do the same thing, hopefully on his dime.

! His itinerary for the weekend included a guided bike tour of Greece. Our guides were experienced cyclists and were delighted to learn that we had never ridden road bikes before. They were pretty confident that the route my Dad booked would be too challenging. Truth be told, I really had no interest in biking 65km that day, but I wasn’t going to let him know that. Grudgingly I accepted that my relaxation would have to wait.

We then proceeded to ride from Athens to Corinth which was as beautiful as it was agonizing. True fatigue began to set in on the last 10km, we struggled big time. The desire to get off the bikes was strong enough to fuel us into Corinth. We disembarked and hobbled over to the canal, which is a marvel of 19th-century technology.

I was ready to head back to the hotel when I saw someone jump off the bridge transpiring the canal walls. I had never seen a Bungee jump before, but fun was not exactly the first word that came to mind. Unfortunately for me, this trip was about leaving my comfort zone, and I couldn’t think of a better way of doing this than jumping off a bridge.

Two weeks at a refugee camp, the most stressful travel experience of my life, and a 65km bike ride had left me pretty tired. I had not planned on free-falling 45 feet when I woke up that morning. Yet, it just felt like the right thing to do. Sometimes the best adventures are unplanned, unexpected, and even undesired.