Going to the UK was one of those dreams a lot of girls from small towns in Malaysia grow up with, and I am forever grateful that I got to live that dream for a semester as a university exchange student just outside London.
Believe me when I say… I made the most out of that semester. From taking day trips to Oxford, Bath, London, to solo travels across Belfast, Dublin and Edinburgh, it was one of the most explorative chapters of my life.
But there’s one day my mind keeps coming back to, and it wasn’t even one of the “bigger” trips. It was a day trip to Brighton, in search of the Seven Sisters cliffs near Eastbourne.
For those who don’t know what the Seven Sisters Cliffs are… it’s just the most magnificent white chalk cliffs. Hands-down, it is one of my favourite places I’ve visited. A quick Google search tells us that the cliffs run from Seaford to Eastbourne through the South Downs National Park, with its coastal trek spanning over 20 km and would take 5-7 hours for a full route hike.
Here’s the thing about me you need to know: Firstly, I am not a hiker. Back home, I would rather drive five minutes than walk five minutes. Secondly, I plan everything down to the smallest detail. When I used to go out in the city, I would look up where the parking lots are at on Google Maps, find backup routes, alternatives, all of it. I need to know what I’m walking into before I walk into it.
So the fact that I woke up that day, saw a TikTok about the Seven Sisters, and decided to just go without doing much research beyond “Google Mapping” which trains and busses I need to take, still feels a little out of character even to me.
In retrospect, I think I know why now…

When nobody around you speaks your language, when you don’t look like the people around you, when literally no one in a hundred miles knows your name, something loosens.
You don’t have to be a certain someone. There’s no one to “perform for” or “present yourself to”. You’re no longer a student with grades to pick up, an employee with targets to meet, or anyone with expectations to meet. There’s no one whose opinion of you is on the line if you mess it up. You can just be whoever shows up that day.
And that day, the version of me that showed up didn’t care about the perfect fail-proof plan, didn’t care about where exactly I’m going, how long I’ll be out, what time I have to be back. The version of me that just existed to explore.
If you’ve ever traveled somewhere alone, somewhere you weren’t recognized by a single soul, you probably know this feeling too.
So I bought the train ticket and went.
The journey started off really well, the weather was sunny (hello? England? Good weather??), and the train ride to Brighton was as smooth as ever. When I arrived, I wandered around the bus stop and found the bus that would take me to the start of the hiking trail… or so I thought.
I frantically searched on Google which stop will take me closest, and it was this dingy small cottage looking place that says it’s a souvenir shop. Till this day… I am not entirely sure which bus I should’ve taken for the easiest route.
I got off, pointing my phone in the direction following the maps, and started walking. Spirits were still up, hopes were shining like the sun, and the view throughout the hike was amazing. Two hours later, I was surrounded by cows and not seeing any lighthouse.
After raising and pointing my phone in the air like a maniac, I was lucky to get some internet connection to my phone to check the maps again. To no one’s surprise (and there was no one there…), the path I was on does not connect to the other side of the field which leads the way to the cliffs. I’d been on the wrong side of the path the whole time, heading away from the lighthouse I actually wanted to see.
This is normally the part where the old me would have spiraled. No signal, no way to check the map, not getting anywhere near I wanted to. But there wasn’t much to spiral about, honestly, because there was only one thing left to do. Turn around. Walk the other way. So I did.
The hills went up and down with no barrier at the cliff’s edge. At one point I was so deep in just putting one foot in front of the other that I almost ended up right at the edge without meaning to.
After almost falling off the cliff, walking for I-don’t-know-how-long, and having no signal to check how far I was or if I was in the right direction, meant there’s no way to second guess myself either. I’d already proven I could go the wrong way and survive it. So I just had to keep walking in the one direction left.
I don’t think I’ve ever made a decision with that little information and felt that calm about it. There’s something about having no choice left but one that makes the choosing easier, if you get what I mean.

Very slowly but surely, the trail had more people on it. At this point, I could not feel my legs anymore. Panting through my exhaustion, passing by seasoned hikers, families, and groups of friends, I still tried to smile at them so I didn’t look like I was struggling.
Soon, I found the café that most people reach by bus or by car (don’t ask me how, I don’t know and I don’t want to know anymore). I got a hot chocolate, walked down the steps to the shore, sat down, and had the world’s least glamorous picnic, a meal deal I’d grabbed before the train, and ate it looking out at the English Channel.
You know what surprised me? Surrounded by strangers, happy children, and the chatter of friend groups, being alone didn’t feel lonely at all.
I have spent plenty of time overthinking how to fill my own company back home. But out there, with no plan, no internet, and no one to talk to, I think I found something closer to peace than I expected.
In retrospect, I wouldn’t trade that whole experience for catching the right bus. I somehow found the peace and solace of being in my own company, and I love it. This was where it truly sank in that there’s no better company to love than the company of yourself.
After finishing my picnic, I contemplated whether to head back or continue searching for the lighthouse, which was the entire reason I came.
I saw a few people heading further down the path after the café. I didn’t know how far it was until the lighthouse, and surprisingly, I did not bother to check and I went anyway. It can’t be that bad if so many people was walking that trail.
And luckily, it turned out the lighthouse was just past the next valley, over the peak.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt that kind of accomplishment from something so simple as walking. Not because the lighthouse was spectacular, although to me it was, but because of everything it took to get there. The spontaneity that got me on that train in the first place. The mistakes I made due to unreadiness. The decision to keep going each time I had no idea how much further it was.
On this day, I discovered a side of me that I admire. Someone who makes it up as she went, and trusting herself enough to keep going anyway.

I missed the last bus from the Seven Sisters cliffs. That tells you how long the hike actually took.
I caught a weak signal long enough to find the next nearest bus stop, fifty minutes away on foot. It was starting to get dark and almost called an Uber. Instead, my instincts insisted I walked. I’ve already gone through one plot twist after another, why not walk this one out.
So, I walked, and walked, along tight roads with cars passing close by, next to a few strangers who’d clearly missed the same bus. I am happy to report in the future that I made it to the stop. I don’t know what my instincts were telling my, but my survival instincts were apparently taking a nap… it was really not the safest setup for a girl walking alone. Highly, do NOT recommend.
As it was a day of spontaneity and plot twists, the bus was late for two scheduled pick-ups of course. Nonetheless, the bus arrived and gave all of us waiting a free ride since they were late.
As we approached the town, I got off a few stops earlier than the train station, caught a quick glimpse of Brighton Pier on the way. I wish I had more time to spend in Brighton, but my dorm was still two hours away and I needed to get back.
I am happy to report that the journey back to my room was indeed the calm after the unexpected plot twists of the day. I took the train, walked home, lay on my bed with aching legs, and tried to process what the day had even been. Then I slept like I hadn’t slept in weeks.

I think that’s the real reason this day has stayed with me longer than any of the “bigger” trips. Out there, with no one from home watching, I wasn’t choosing what to do based on how it would look or who I’d tell about it later. Without an “audience”, you find out what you’d actually choose to do, not what you’d choose to be seen doing.
And when spontaneity replaces meticulous planning, deliberately letting the unexpected happen and the plan to fall apart, there was no one else to hand the decision to or help you. There is so much more to discover about ourselves when we let things run its course, and not having to plan everything carefully. We uncover new sides of ourselves when there is no plan, and we’re still standing there, having to choose what to do next, with only ourselves to answer to.
The Seven Sisters didn’t teach me that I’m brave. They just showed me what I can actually do when there’s no one around and no plan left to follow. And it’s truly an amazing experience to be able to get to know yourself better this way.
