Appearances were the first thing to go. While traveling without baggage didn’t turn out to be the hygienic apocalypse I’d originally predicted, we both had to give up any notion of maintaining the early, always-look-hot phase of dating. Over the course of our trip across Turkey, Eastern Europe and the UK, we’d witness each other in various states of dishevelment and disarray.

He saw me greasy-haired, with dark moons under my eyes after an overnight ferry from Turkey to Greece and, later, on a 23-hour bus ride from Athens to Budapest. I saw him swaddled in bed sheets and towels while our only outfits were hanging to dry at night. There was no candlelight to soften reality.

Still, the issue of appearance paled compared to the real test: learning how to combine our rhythms as we spontaneously navigated world cities, ancient ruins, crowded markets, train schedules, ferry docks, and an ever-changing line-up of strangers and friends.

As the baggage-less adventure unfolded, the differences in our personalities began to appear in stark contrast to each other. He was loud, extroverted, and magnetically drawn to chaos. I was quietly reserved and craved alone time to recharge. He liked to explore the city before dawn. I preferred to sleep in. He liked to bathe once (maybe twice) a week. I didn’t feel on point without my daily shower routine.

The joys of adventure dating, by the woman who jumped on a plane to eight countries with the man she'd just met