More handpicked essays just for you.
Personal narrative essays about traveling
Personal narrative essays about traveling
Personal narrative essays about traveling
Don’t take our word for it - see why 10 million students trust us with their essay needs.
Recommended: Personal narrative essays about traveling
As I zoomed down the interstate, I caught a glimpse of a sign that read “New Palestine Next Exit.” Something didn’t feel right but I just shrugged it off and kept driving. It was late and my friends and I were all anxious to get to the bowling alley so we could continue our fun-filled Friday night. Ten miles later, a light on my dashboard started blinking so I pulled into the nearest gas station to fill up my tank. Then it hit me: I was on the complete opposite end of town. Remember that famous line in The Wizard of Oz, “I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore”? Well, that was me, except Kansas was my hometown on the west side of Indianapolis and Oz was who-knows-where in the urban eastside. I was lost. If you know me, you know that
In September 1954, he moved out of Northwood in Long Island onto the Northern State Parkway to see his new house in the countryside. He specifically said that Long Island had been one of the most beautiful places in the United States, and his house was one small reason it would not remain that way much longer. His new house lacked in exterior grandeur, but it made up for comfort inside and costs in all together $25,000. Kunstler got his first glimpse of what real American towns were like when he was sent away to a boys’ camp in Lebanon, New Hampshire. He visited his hometown Northwood when he became a teenager and saw how it has entered into a coma with so little for one to do there. Northwood had no public gathering places, so teens were stuck in their little holes who smoked pot and imitated rock and roll. For the teenagers there, the waiting transforming moment was when one became a licensed driver, as I can say the same about my town. Kunstler went to a state college in a small town, Brockport in western New York State. The college was the only thing that kept the town alive with healthy conditions where it was scaled to people, not cars. He ends the chapter by pointing out that this book is an attempt to discover how and why landscape of scary places, the geography of nowhere, has simply ceased to be a credible human habitat happened and what we might do about
“I told Lori about my escape fund, the seventy-five dollars I’d saved. From now on, I said, it would be our joint fund. We’d take on extra work after school and put everything we earned into a piggy bank. Lori would take it to New York and use it to get established, so that by the time I arrived, everything would be set.”(223) Lori and Jeannette work to earn money so they can leave. They named the piggy bank that they keep their money in Oz because New York City seems like The Emerald City to them. The two sisters went through so many struggles growing up they are determined to leave Welch and begin a new and better life. “ ‘I’ll never get out of here,’ Lori kept saying. ‘I’ll never get out of here.’ ‘You will,’ I said. ‘I swear it.’ I believed she would. Because I knew that if Lori never got out of Welch, neither would I.” (229). Lori and Jeannette have had a tough childhood and they need to escape Welch. They know that if they stay in Welch their life will always be full of challenges. New York is their escape from a life full of hardships and challenges. “I wondered if he was hoping that his favorite girl would come back, or if he was hoping that, unlike him, she would make it out for good.” (241). When Jeannette leaves her dad lost hope. He has always let his kids down and New York City is their escape. New York City represents their freedom. Their freedom from a life full of
A Declaration of Independence from Independence I declare independence, from independence. Independence has many problems for people throughout the years. I dislike continuously having independence, it has been a source of huge stress in my life. We all wanted our independence from an oppressive tyrant, but we don’t like the stress that comes with it.
It was the fall of 2010 and little did I know that my world was about to change drastically. We had moved back to Kenosha, Wisconsin in 2008 after living in Mexico, and I was starting to enjoy my life in the dairy state. My 6th Grade classes had just started at Bullen Middle School. It was right at this time when my world seemingly got flipped upside down. My parents had a family meeting and informed my siblings and me that we were moving to a small Iowa town called Orange City. I had feelings of nervousness, excitement, and sadness all mixed together.
“WSS Frequently Asked Questions.” The Official West Side Story Web Site. n.p. n.d Web. 01 May 2014. .
The drive to cross the Kentucky border had taken hours and hours of strenuous patience to finally arrive in another state. The view was by far country like as hints of cow manure could be smelled far from a distance. We drive through small towns, half the size of our hometown of Glen Ellyn had been the biggest town we've seen if not smaller. The scenery had overwhelmed us, as lumps of Earth from a great distance turned to perfectly molded hills, but as we got closer and closer to our destination the hills no longer were hills anymore, instead the hills had transformed to massive mountains of various sizes. These mountains surrounded our every view as if we had sunken into a great big deep hole of green pastures. Our path of direction was seen, as the trails of our road that had followed for numerous hours ended up winding up the mountainous mountains in a corkscrew dizzy-like matter.
I walked around unsteadily all day like a lost baby, far away from its pack. Surrounded by unfamiliar territory and uncomfortable weather, I tried to search for any signs of similarities with my previous country. I roamed around from place to place and moved along with the day, wanting to just get away and go back home. This was my first day in the United States of America.
It was three in the morning and we just passed downtown Milwaukee. Our car was moving along in the direction of Charlotte, North Carolina. In the blink of an eye, I was asleep. When I awoke we were just exiting Illinois, we had been driving for three hours already. The ride ahead was 15 hours and I was bucked down in the far back of my mom's van. I was sprawled out all the way across the seat. I had the middle seat belt buckle around my waist and was under three blankets. The drive through Indiana and Ohio was extremely boring. All that was there
It was eleven p.m. when my bus left for Chicago. As we drove along the interstate I positioned my headphones onto my head. I started the playlist that I had created especially for the trip. Trying to pass time, I rested my head against the window and watched the stars streak across the night sky. I soon drifted off to sleep and dreamt of the things that I would be doing in Chicago. After several hours of sleeping awkwardly in my seat I was awakened by the bus’
Bosnia was a magnificent place before the war began. There were luscious and thriving trees, colourful market stalls and elegant buildings. One day this all drastically changed, I woke up to the shouts of anxious soldiers in the street evacuating as many as they possibly could and the screech of wheels as people fled Sarajevo. This was the moment my life changed forever. Over the growing weeks the heavy bombing continued, the mortars still blazed away, and the gunfire never ceased. Eventually, Mama and Tata said that I must flee Sarajevo and get to Australia. At the time I did not understand. Now I am grateful, I was too malnourished and unwell, if I hadn’t left I would have most likely died.
It would have been easy to resolve had either one of us wanted to end the squabble. Looking back, it is unbelievable to me that I acted the way I did. Again and again the situation runs through my mind, unveiling new ends to the argument. It was a perfect example of similar scenes playing themselves out all over the world - the most basic level of social conflict we have, the easiest to resolve.
Just out of reach, a man sees an oasis and runs to it. But no matter how far he runs, the oasis is just out of reach. Because, unknown to the man, the oasis isn’t there. It’s a mirage shown only to the man dying of dehydration. Like the dying man, the desperate project their hopes and dreams onto California. California becomes a “mirage” for people who need to keep their dreams alive. To the dreamer, California is a land veiled with hope but drowning in disappointment.
I lived a good deal of my life in Egypt, then I came to the USA five years ago, and I have been living here since then. Looking behind, urging a very critical question: “do I regret doing this?” No one can argue that this action involved plenty of sacrifices, and enclosed on a vast range of bumps. One of the sacrifices is having a home sickness feeling; I daydream Egypt. Egypt’s love in my heart is irrevocable. It is my home country; the land of secrets and wonders; the land that witnessed my growth, all my cheerful moments, all my griefs, and all my memories. I am carving its picture- not only in my memory, but also in my soul. I am eager to lay eyes on every inch, and every corner in Egypt. I have an overwhelming desire to eye my house there, my past schools, even the streets I was walking in. Another sacrifice is leaving my family; I indeed miss my family. I have never had the chance to see my sister’s sons in real. Watching them on Skype puts me in deep sorrow. I wish if I can hold them, and eye their smiles. Also, I wish
Marrakesh "God's city," the city said to be Africa's busiest market, Morocco's largest traditional market, the perfect place for inspiration and rehabilitation. The city sand particles hit him exactly in his eyes, the tongue was like a new sponge in packaging mouth was crusty and began making gashes in the corner of the mouth. The sun is shining and sharp beam hits him constantly in his head where either he goes, then hits the still on his yet so red fried face.
February 11th, 1996, in the small town of Spencer, West Virginia, a baby girl was brought into this world; Little did she know how cruel and vindictive this world truly is. Twenty-years later, here I am still trying to understand my place. I was born into a rather large family (counting aunts, uncles, cousins, & just about everyone). Throughout my childhood, all the way up to my junior year of high school, my family moved just about every year. Over the next few years I really got into history and government, only then did I look back at all of the life changing events in my lifetime and truly understand what happened.