My Final Answer

For more than a year I have been promising myself a handsome reward of AWESOME TRAVEL ADVENTURE (ATA) to celebrate/cope with turning thirty in August. The original idea was to finally track down the gorillas in Uganda and Rwanda, something I have been dreaming about for quite some time.

After a little research it became clear that gorilla trekking was not going to be financially feasible right now, so the ATA got put on the backburner until I figured out where the hell I wanted to go that I could afford to go. As the weeks and months inch closer and closer to my birthday, and the demands of family and work pressure me to finalize days off eons in advance, I have been pondering the ATA a lot in recent days.

This morning as I dried my hair and put on my makeup I tumbled around thoughts of Costa Rica, Thailand, or even revisiting Australia. I spent a good 45 minutes looking at various flights and time tables before grabbing my co-worker and hitting the local coffee shop for a break. "I have a dilemma," I whined to co-worker, because clearly this was the most important thing on my plate for the day.

Co-worker, as I had guessed, was totally into helping me solve my crisis. He also has the affliction caused by the bite of the travel bug, so he completely understood, and dare I say, was living vicariously through my own planning. As we strolled back to the office, tea in tow, we discussed Spain-Morocco and oddly enough, Croatia (his sister had been recently, apparently it's the new "hot spot" for beaches - who knew?).

We hit the web as soon as we got back. Cheap flights from various European cities to Marrakesh and Fez. Delicious local food. Vibrant culture. It all seemed to be falling into place. One minute I was totally on the Morocco bandwagon. . .and the next minute I just. couldn't. do it.

I realized that I was psyching myself up for Morocco, that my heart wasn't really in it. I was telling myself to appreciate the consolation prize. That's all well and good, but what the hell? This is my thirtieth birthday celebration. This is a present to myself. I want it to be meaningful. I want it to be special to me. I want it to be the ultimate wish fulfillment. I want it to be gorillas.

And so we stopped. We stopped Morocco and Spain and Gibralter and Casablanca. We shifted course. For the next hour or so we researched the hell out of Uganda, Rwanda, and Kenya until Co-worker needed a lunch break. Then we stopped at my house, grabbed the Lonely Planet: East Africa that's been on my book shelf over a year, and we researched more when we got back.

Uganda, as it turns out, totally kicks ass. They have white-water rafting, kayaking, the most powerful waterfall on earth, and lots of typical safari animals.

It's not going to be cheap; the permit to see the gorillas alone costs $500, with a "good" airfare ringing in at $1,000. I'll probably have to wait another year to save up the money. But it's totally going to be worth it. I'm not going to accept the consolation prize this time. 30 is a big deal. This trip is going to be, too.