In 2011, young, dumb, and excited about the world, I ran to South Korea to teach. I was full of curiosity and astonishingly determined to be away from home, in the furthest reaches of this planet. Korea was the bridge that served as my gateway into the invigorating unknown.
I went there mainly because it wanted me; at the time, I was ready to go anywhere. I had no predisposed yearning to live in South Korea. I had heard positive stories about the country and its culture and people from friends and relatives. But mainly, I went there because it…
After two quiet nights of walking in the higher altitudes of Bali, amidst Lake Beratan and the serenade of Ulun Danu temple, I departed north again.
It made practical sense, at the time, to assume that the further away from the tourism epicenter I ventured, the closer I got to finding my real Bali.
I would follow the road to Singaraja, returning down to the coastline after splitting the island in two. There, I could decide to venture East or West, although East favored heavily on my yearning mind in light of the active volcanoes that lingered in my curiosity…
I’m not here to brag, nor to congratulate myself or seek appreciation. I am here to share a profound event that transpired recently in my life, a single act of kindness that taught me what it means to help others.
My goal as a writer is twofold.
I strive to embrace the world of exploration to seek new adventures that provide learning experiences; travel fits conveniently into this mold. Writing pushes me into these new experiences and challenges my limits; I live so that I can write about them.
Secondly, the ultimate attainment as a writer is to influence, inspire…
In the summer of 2011, a young traveler found himself lingering in the stifling heat of a megacity — Seoul — for three days, awaiting his return home to Canada. The formative travel experience had proven fruitful and worthwhile and had just begun to wet his beak for future traveling aspirations.
For five weeks, he had explored the new country(his first experience overseas), teaching an English summer camp while meeting all sorts of fascinating new people. He had gotten to know corners of Seoul quite well; Itaewon, Hongdae, Gangnam, and was comfortable hopping around by train and venturing into the…
Congratulations. As a reward for clicking on this article, you have just unlocked a two-week trip to one of the following seven countries.
Read carefully, and decide which ONE you prefer to travel to by highlighting the last sentence of the section. You can only choose one!
Have fun, and keep dreaming of your next adventure.
Unless you hail from India, Bangladesh, or the Maldives, you will be undertaking this journey at the mercy of a friendly Bhutanese travel guide. …
Here is Part 1 of my Bali adventures if you missed it!
With half of my belongings in safekeeping at the guesthouse and the other half carefully stowed on my back, I darted off. I spun the wheels of my motorbike toward the center of the island, on a direct path to adventure. Kuta behind me, and the journey ahead; happiness in motion.
I motored through the raucous noise and frenetic beat of Denpasar. The city was alive with traffic and congestion; I was happy to be storming my way through it, yet the heat of the road exhilarated my…
I always give writers the last word of the day; I let them shuffle me into a state of rest. Every night, I drift into slumber with a book in my hands.
Last night, I gave Paul Theroux that last word.
Reading from The Old Patagonian Express, his adventures by train from Massachusetts down to the tip of South America, I was on the verge of drifting into my nightly induced coma when I read this passage.
“Travel is at its best a solitary enterprise: to see, to examine, to assess, you have to be alone and unencumbered. Other people…
Torn by an existential rage the other day, I sat down and began questioning the purpose of my traveling lifestyle.
Why do I travel? What is so interesting about travel that I’m willing to give up so many other things? Is there a purpose to all this traveling nonsense?
Yes, one of those afternoons came sweeping onto my doorstep, and I decided to defend myself with the only armor available at the time: a piece of paper and a pencil.
I sketched out reasons for travel and listed out why I thought it was important in my life.
In a fit of disgusted rage, I packed my laptop and stormed out of the apartment.
Three hours of staring at a blank screen had failed to produce any words. The only creativity manufactured was finding other things to do, other than writing; I was highly successful at that.
I cleaned the dishes; I hung a poster that had built up dust in a dank corner of the room; I vacuumed; all agreeably satisfying at the time in contrast to having to stare at a white computer screen.
But alas, I had had enough of the lethargy and lack of…
Where were you on September 11, 2001?
I, the jaded seventeen-year-old high school student, was riding the magic school bus to class. I was engrossed in the treadmill routine of everyday life, headphones blaring obnoxious music while I peered out the loud school bus dreaming about being somewhere else.
I was young, but already, my heart was extending itself into the possibility of the world. I had travel on my mind.
High school was never an enjoyable time for me. In those late teenage years, the only excitement came with the prospect of it being over, of rejoicing in the…