The grey clouds blanketed what little light slept behind, without our electric clocks we wouldn’t know whether the sun was settling in or waking up. Through my bedroom window panes there was little difference from day break to the half hour before it ended.

Coming from sunny and warm coastal Texas, we knew there would be an adjustment period. Beyond its differing climate, the new time zone forced us into an unmastered groove. While our known world lay fast asleep, we cooked breakfast and started the day. This brute struggle, upon our arrival into the United Kingdom, came paired with a common case of jet lag and a severe cold. The first week flew by with no regard for our bodily or mental health. When we were decongested enough to actually taste our dinner, I gained hope that my fears were manageable. Our newfound lucidity in the British waking hours brought about wonder and excitement. Every moment humbled our traveling hearts, as we committed innocent social breaches and misunderstood typical customs.

Caleb and I didn’t choose Canterbury as our new home, yet we joined in on my studious sister’s dreams of learning abroad. Most of her education would be found in the classrooms of Christ Church University, while our teachings would come through the observation and exercise of British culture. With every bus ride and chance encounter, our knowledge base grew. Determined to discover this place and demystify its routes, whether it be walking paths or public transportation.

The concept of trusting these public buses and trains felt counterintuitive. In America, the only sure-fire way to get somewhere was to drive yourself or commercially fly (or in few cases, walk). Given the freedom to again explore by foot, memories of the Appalachian Trail filled our minds. During our thru-hike, we trekked towards a fixed goal. Differing from that experience, we find ourselves less aware of this journey’s end point. The AT gave us a structured approach to traveling, a true beginning and end. Yet, most of life disregards that concept, opting for unknown and exotic vibrato. We must continually accept the flow of life, that unforgiving and ever-vibing rhythm of ignorance and resolutions, bliss and pain. Perhaps that’s our new understanding: not everything in life has a solidified ending, but more destiny at play. We equally lament and rejoice in having this freedom, it caused so much mindless roaming during our vanlife days but later allowed us to accept the fateful decision of thru-hiking (after our van engine blew). More recently, that freedom helped us take a chance on a new country, one that we might have otherwise overlooked.