Hola amigas y amigos (que feminista Georgie boy). As always, I try to start my articles with a piece of my multi-faceted personality (I have the flu, so if this introduction comes off as arrogant, I have absolutely no processing power in my brain to detect this). I am currently on a road trip in Argentina, though by the time you read this, I’ll probably be somewhere else.

Argentina is a marvelous country with two of its greatest exports being my wife, and everything else. Be it as it may, lovely as this country is, it just lacks one tiny detail to be perfect for me: The brands of chocolate and potato chips that I am familiar with.

Some of you are judging me…fair point. I can hear you thinking: “Really? An article about chocolate and chips? What a waste of space.” To which I concur. You are right, but please do keep reading.

As a formal, horizontally challenged individual, I do not take my chocolates and chips palate lightly. On the contrary, I developed a strong attitude towards my sweet and salty preferences that I use these preferences as anchor points wherever I travel.

When I’m abroad, the first thing I do after checking into the hotel is to visit the local grocery store and buy chocolate and chips. Stuff that I like, and have them on display in my room. It centers me, it gives me comfort to know that if my anxiety overpowers me, I can always go back to indulge in a familiar taste.

Lame. Until you try it, and you totally should try it. Then, I came to Argentina for the first time ever last year. So, this piece arrives as an echo of last year’s trip in addition to this current trip. It just took me this long to process this thought. (Editor’s note: Dear George, also lame, but, go on).
In Argentina, they don’t even share our taste preferences.

The simple question of ‘Do you have salt and vinegar chips?’ turns so many heads, as if I just requested an A5 poster of Prince wearing a t-shirt… it’s that weird of a request. Chocolates are a different thing altogether. They don’t have the same brands we carry back home. Then again, they don’t even share the same language.

So, how did I rationally cope? I drove miles on end to find one familiar thing. Almost 100 minutes later, I found it, the Chocolate Egg that has a surprise in it, only here they call it Sorpresa!

On the way back from my drive, I couldn’t help but reflect on all the why’s of my actions. I mean, I did drive for 100 minutes. Why did I go so far to find something I could have easily, and effortlessly, after a month? Why is it so important that I stick to an insignificant taste rather than trying something new?

The obvious answer is that these chocolate eggs are awesome (by the way, you should totally stick them in the freezer for 30 minutes before eating them. You’re most welcome, and tell the world).

The not so obvious answer is that we need home, or at least a piece of it, wherever we go, whatever that piece may be. Last year and just before summer, I wrote about disconnecting and that still stands true as ever. It’s just that I didn’t realize that I never fully disconnect because I always keep a token of my return to my comfort zone.

Chocolate, chips, tv shows, etc. Whatever your choice is, we all carry that one routine or habit with us on our trip without realizing we packed it along for the adventure in the first place. Consider those bobby pins you find at the bottom of your suitcase when you unpack at the hotel. Once found, your reaction is one of indifference, but the moment you use one you go, ‘Oh, that was convenient!’.

And just like those bobby pins, the comfier you will ever be is when you get them out of your hair and just try something new, like a scrunchie, or a make-shift elastic band. Whatever it is, let loose and enjoy the trip.

George Tarabay is a marketing expert/ Filmmaker/ comedian/Podcaster. Follow him on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, YouTube, SoundCloud.