I felt like I was driving into the opening scene of a horror movie on my way to Chaco Canyon. The scary drive and storm were worth it though. For more details about my trip, checkout my Chaco Canyon post!

There’s bad days on the road just like there are at home.

The good days are glorious – riding camels on beaches in India, watching the sunrise over the towers at Torres del Paine in Patagonia and photographing the Dalai Lama’s teachings in McLeod Ganj. These are the days that people envy. The ones that cause people to stalk my Instagram and say, “I’m living vicariously through your life.”

What people don’t want are the bad days I endured to get to those glorious moments like the 18-hour bus ride in Burma sitting across the aisle from a kid puking in a bag for the ENTIRE trip.

For me, bouts of food poisoning always arrive at the most opportune moments like the middle of the 10-mile hike or on a bumpy flight. There’s nothing more fun than waking up in a swanky hostel in Cancun covered in bed bug bites. (There is NOTHING that itches more.) It was just as much fun as standing beside my car on the side of I-40 in the middle of Missouri after my engine blew.

McLeod Ganj, the home to the Dalai Llama, is one of my favorite cities in India and also the place I’m most accident/illness prone.

And, my personal favorite – the time my foot slipped between the grates of a sewer drain in India when I was walking down the street. Thankfully, it was only knee deep so I didn’t break my leg. This nice Tibetan boy was kind enough to retrieve my flip-flop from the toxic black muck.  My leg was so bruised I couldn’t sit Indian-style with my legs crossed for weeks.

Oh, and let’s not forget my hilarious battle with the GIANT Australian spider.

I found myself living in a Western Union commercial when my purse was stolen in Thailand. I lost all of my bank/credit cards except my American Express, which was worthless. (Despite their slogan, those bastards are NOT everywhere you want them to be!) There I was in Cambodia a few days later calling my parent’s at 5 a.m. to transfer me money. (FYI: You can’t transfer yourself money. Trust me, I tried.)

Sadly, life can’t always be filled with sunshine and tacos, but there are always more good days than bad. After 14 years of relentless travel, I wouldn’t change a thing—even the food poisoning. Besides, nothing worthwhile will ever be easy.

If fear of the bad days or any of my stories scare you, learn from my mistakes.  Here’s four ways to survive the tough travel days:

I didn’t let my stolen purse ruin my first trip to Southern Thailand. (Koh Pha Ngan, Thailand)

1. Humor

The food poisoning hit me at the top of the mountain in India. I hiked back five miles getting sick every 15 minutes. The next day I was so weak I could barely walk to breakfast. Then, I had to take a two-hour car ride through winding roads to the village where I was working for the next week. My room was so hot at night that I took multiple cold showers every hour or two just to cool off. (Keep in mind, I was still massively dehydrated from the food poisoning so the heat didn’t help.) It was cooler outside than in my room, but if I opened my door, I knew the tiny scorpions would wander in the same way they strolled into my friend’s room down the hall.  As I lay there sweating, I couldn’t help but think “This will make a damn good Facebook status update!”

I love a good story. After all, I have two degrees in journalism. Everything I do in life is for a story. Most of the time, bad mishaps make the best stories later. All of this is pretty hilarious to me now as I type this from my air-conditioned room in Austin.

The main thing that gets me through the rough times is the realization that the moment will pass and not come again. And, the story. There is humor in everything. Plus, people LOVE to hear about that bad things that happen do you. Don’t you agree?

2. Be calm

My purse was stolen twice. One in Thailand and again in Spain where they also snagged my iPhone. (Both were my fault. More on that later.) After the initial moments of shock and realizing that my purse was REALLY gone, I whisked through a gamut of emotions that lasted five minutes. I quickly realized that overreacting/crying was not going to change the situation. Being calm and focusing on dealing with the situation was the best way to move forward. This is coming from a girl who often finds it nerve-wracking to decide what to order on a brunch menu. When the stakes are high, I’m calm. When they aren’t, I’m a mess.

Crying won’t make your wallet reappear. Take a deep breath. Access the situation and put all your energy toward the solution.

I spent the morning at La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona the day and later that day my iPhone was stolen from the beach.

3. Learn from your mistakes (and mine)

Both stolen purses were identical situations. I was on a beach and not paying attention. (Again, I admit both were totally my fault.)  All of my bank cards were in my wallet (except that useless American Express) in Thailand.

Since the beaches in Spain have high-theft rates, I made sure to lock up all my valuables in my hostel locker (based on my experience in Thailand) every night except one. I was rushing to meet some friends and didn’t want to go back to lock up my phone and wallet, which were promptly stolen.

Luckily, I had learned from my previous Thailand incident so at least I had my bank cards and cash hidden in multiple places with my luggage back at the hostel. I still lost my iPhone but luckily, didn’t have to call my parent’s at 5 a.m. to send me money this time. Small victories.

Since that incident in Spain, I travel with a purse with a long strap, which I wear across my body even when sitting down so it’s not as easy to grab. Now, I ALWAYS lock up my phone and wallet when I am in a high-theft area. When I went to dinner at night in Peru, I would only carry enough cash for my meal in my pocket. Everything else was locked up.

In Buenos Aires, I was able to fumble a pick-pocket’s attempt to steal my wallet/phone from my purse based on my previous experiences above.

All of these are hilarious stories in hindsight. (You’ll have to wait for my autobiography to get the ENTIRE story.) The biggest takeaway is to learn from your mistakes to make sure the situation doesn’t happen again.  Also, trust your instincts. When something feels strange, get out of the situation immediately.

My foot fell through the grates of a sewer drain on this street in McLeod Ganj, India. (Yes, that’s a stray cow wandering the street.)

4. Be Prepared

It’s always good to plan for the worst if only to reduce your fears. Buy travel insurance and take small precautions that will save you a lot of headache in the long run. Here are few things I do to be prepared:

• Do Your Research. Research potential health or safety concerns in your destination so you can take the proper precautions. Check travel alerts on Travel.State.gov and recent editions of travel guides for current concerns. Ask receptionists and locals for safety advice about places you want to visit.

• Road-side Assistance. There was no way for me to predict that my car engine would blow on I-40 especially since I’d just had the oil changed the day before. But, I had AAA so they towed my car for free to the dealership, which took part of the headache away. (Many credit cards offer similar services.)

• Talk to Your Doctor. For Delhi Belly (food poisoning), my doctor prescribed antibiotics for me to carry on trips since I always seemed to get sick in the middle of nowhere. I also travel with rehydration salts to help with hydration. I always buy medical travel insurance with no deductible so it covers any medical issues and emergency evacuation.

• Back-up Bank Account. I opened a second back-up checking account and always keep that debit card in a different spot than my main card. If one card was stolen, I can easily transfer my money to the other account. (Both accounts are Charles Schwab and have no fees or minimum balance requirements. For more on travel banking, read my Travel Banking 101 post.)

• Don’t Get Hangry. Pack snacks to avoid hanger (anger caused by hunger). I ALWAYS have a snack with me that ranges from bananas to peanuts to a homemade steak sandwich, which come in handy when things are running smooth or when I’m stuck in a bus station in the middle of nowhere.

• For more ways to stay safe on the road, check out my Travel Safety 101 post.

At first glance, Sydney, Australia is a beautiful city but it has it’s share of dark secrets like GIANT SPIDERS!

It was midnight on a Wednesday.

In typical horror movie fashion, I was home alone. I was renting a room in a three-bedroom house in the western part of Sydney, Australia. On this particular night, my roommate was working late.

As I was turning off the light before crawling into bed, I noticed a dark spot on the ceiling directly above my bed. I flipped the lights back on to investigate. The dark spot was a MASSIVE spider. By MASSIVE, I mean it’s head was the size of my thumb and its’ body span was the size of my ENTIRE hand!! It was like a tarantula with longer legs. I stood there flipping the lights on and off repeatedly in hopes it was a mirage. But, it was very, very real!

Take a moment to Google “Huntsman spider.”

Now, that you’ve stopped screaming and picked your phone up off the floor, let’s continue with the story.

First of all, spiders should NOT be that big. I have never been afraid of spiders. When they reach a certain size that rivals width of my shoe…well, things change.

There was ABSOLUTELY no question that the giant spider had to die for several reasons:

1) Australian spiders are known to be very poisonous and deadly.

2) There was no way I was sleeping in the same room as him.

3) He doesn’t pay rent. Damn, freeloader!

My reaction to the spider was the same as the entry way to Luna Park in North Sydney. 

Problem # 1: My room has 12-foot high ceilings.

First, I moved my bed and anything he could hide under out of the way or into the hall. (Did I mention he was directly above my pillow? AHHH!) To prepare for the battle, I put on the thickest shoes I owned, tucked my pajama pants into my socks and put on a long sleeve shirt to cover my skin in case he fell on me.

Instinctively, I ran to grab the broom, a shovel and the vacuum. (The shovel seemed like a good tool to use to decapitate him.)

Then, as any self-respecting 26-year-old would do, I called my parents to discuss my strategy. (It was the middle of the day in South Carolina so they were clearly awake.) Parents are supposed to know how to deal with these things. After clarifying the massive size of the spider to my dad repeatedly, he helped me concoct a plan. His exact words: “Go ahead and vacuum him. Then, call me back.”

Problem # 2: The vacuum doesn’t have a long hose attachment.

Again, the ceiling is 12-feet tall. My Macgyver instinct kicked it. To maximize my distance from said spider, I taped the broom handle to the vacuum hose with the roll of mailing tape. Hitting him with a broom or even the shovel would be messy (i.e. spider blood on the white paint, holes in the wall, etc.) The vacuum was my only hope. I just prayed it was strong enough.

Problem # 3: The vacuum hose is too short to reach the ceiling.

I put the vacuum on one chair and stood on another chair in order execute my plan. Both chairs are as far away from the spider as possible. I round up every bit of courage in my body and poke him with the end of the vacuum using my DIY broom-hose attachment. He scurries to the right. I scream and almost fall off the chair. Then, I intercept him. He puts up a fight, but he is no match for the power of the vacuum! (There was a moment where I was seriously concerned he was too big to vacuum.)

I step down from the chair and put the vacuum on the floor. My heart is pounding. The vacuum is still running at this point because I’m scared that when I turn it off he will try to run out of the hose. Or what if he multiplied like those Gremlin things from that ‘80’s movie? I busted out my Jackie Chan ninja skills to quickly tape a plastic bag over the end of the hose as soon as I hit the off switch. The bag looks a bit thin so I quickly grab a thicker bag and tape it over the hose with lightening speed.

Then, I lock the vacuum in the closet in the spare room and proceed to check my entire room for the spider’s friends and relatives.

Anna – 1

Giant Spider – 0

Now, I’m terrified to go to sleep. What if he comes back for revenge? I feel like spiders are crawling all over me. There is a vent near where the spider was on the ceiling. I rip off the back of a magazine and tape it over the vent so none of his freeloading friends can come visit.

I text my roommate to explain that there is a giant spider living in the vacuum in the spare room. Then, I call my dad back to let him know that I’m alive.

Since it’s clear, I won’t ever be sleeping again. I sat down to type this email.

This, my friends, is how you defeat a giant Australian spider.

(Update: The vacuum stayed tapped up in the spare room until I moved out a few months later. Initially, I thought the spider was a deadly funnel web but later found out the spider was a Huntsman, which is not poisonous.  Ironically, after spending the next five summers in Asia, I became very Buddhist and started catching small spiders and taking them outside instead of killing them.)

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COMING UP:

4 Ways to Survive Tough Travel Days

There are bad days on the road just like there are at home. The good days are glorious. And, the bad days are, well, tough. I’ll share some of my hilarious travel mishaps and offer tips to help you deal with the less than glorious days.