Chidi did not plan a year tour. He planned “two weeks to find myself.” Then his return ticket expired, his wallet said “yolo,” and his mom said “don’t come back broke.” So he stayed.
Spain: Where He Learned to Run
Month 1-3. Chidi landed in Barcelona with 3 shirts and 7 days of confidence. He joined the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona because a hostel guy said “it builds character.” It built cardio. He outran a bull, his dignity, and his phone. Lost the phone. Gained a story.
He survived on €3 bocadillos and free tapas in Granada. A Spanish grandma adopted him after he tried to order “pollo” and accidentally said “pollo” = chicken, but with the worst accent. She taught him to cook paella and to nap at 3pm like it’s law. Chidi’s superpower became sleeping anywhere. Even in a train station. Especially in a train station.
Italy: Where He Ate His Feelings
Month 4-6. He hit Rome, Florence, Naples. His budget went from “backpacker” to “broke but carbs are life.”
He tried to speak Italian. “Dove il bagno?” got him directions. “Dove il wifi?” got him free espresso. He learned 3 phrases and used them for everything. Got lost in Venice for 4 hours. The canals didn’t care. He ate gelato twice a day and called it “cultural research.”
Peak moment: He got cast as “Tourist #3” in a street performer’s play in Florence for €20 and a pizza. His acting was terrible. The pizza was divine. He decided Italy’s motto should be: “If in doubt, add cheese.”
Germany: Where He Learned Punctuality the Hard Way
Month 7-9. Berlin. Chidi showed up 10 minutes late to a hostel walking tour. The guide said, “We started.” Chidi said, “African time.” The guide said, “This is German time.”
He spent autumn in Munich drinking one beer and pretending he understood Oktoberfest. He didn’t. He just nodded and said “Prost!” a lot. He learned that Germans have a word for everything, including the joy of finding a seat on the U-Bahn: Sitzplatzglück.
He also learned that if you sort recycling wrong in Berlin, your neighbors will judge you harder than your mom judges your grades. Chidi became the Recycling King. His Tinder bio: “I separate plastic like I separate my exes.”
United Kingdom: Where It Rained and He Stayed
Month 10-12. London. Chidi arrived with Spanish sun, Italian confidence, and German socks. The UK gave him rain, sarcasm, and £12 pints.
He tried “queueing” and became weirdly good at it. He discovered pubs, fish & chips, and that “you alright?” is not actually a question. He spent Christmas in Edinburgh, shivering in a kilt, shouting “Auld Lang Syne” without knowing the words.
By New Year’s Eve, Chidi had 4 accents, 0 plan, 37 friends, and a suitcase full of souvenirs he couldn’t afford shipping for.
The End… Sort Of
On day 365 he sat on the Thames, watching fireworks, wearing a Barcelona jersey, eating Italian panettone, drinking German Glühwein, under British rain.
A stranger asked, “So, did you find yourself?”
Chidi grinned. “Nah. I found 4 countries. Turns out I’m everywhere a little bit.”
He flew home with jet lag, 12kg heavier, and one truth: The world is bigger than fear, cheaper if you eat street food, and way more fun if you say “yes” to the bull.
Moral of the tour: Pack light. Laugh loud. And always, always learn how to say “where’s the bathroom” in the local language. Trust me.
