October 9, 2017
I travelled so much I didn’t like it anymore. But I couldn’t stop because the thought of going home was far scarier than the feeling of being unstuck.
I travelled so far that I no longer knew how I chose my destinations, that somehow everything became slightly the same. Yet always I wanted to know what was around the next bend.
I travelled to cold places even though I love the heat. I travelled to hot places even though I need to get my skin out of the sun before it resembled that of a lizard.
I travelled for so long my mind became a chasm of boundless time and space, a valley dyed purple by dwindling sunlight, streaked by dried riverbeds and paths trodden hard by my own feet.
I travelled to understand new people until I no longer understood myself. Not because I didn’t know myself but because I had changed.
I travelled to find myself but instead I lost myself to the world.
I travelled in search of paradise until I found myself in the area between the sky and sea, suspended in the clouds like a kite whose owner let go of the string.
I travelled to feel alive until it made me feel dead.
But then being still is what really kills me.
An Open Letter to the Officer who Fined me for not wearing my seatbelt when I had it on (and who also saw my boob).
April 29, 2019
Four Reasons Tasmania should be top of your Australia Travel List
April 5, 2019
Sorry I'm Too Funny For You
December 13, 2018
Bangladesh: When you say no, you actually mean yes.
October 25, 2018
5 Reasons Vanuatu is the Pacific Ocean’s Hidden Gem
April 30, 2018
I am Woman
April 17, 2018
Middle Eastern Mayhem - Part 3
March 18, 2017
Middle Eastern Mayhem - Part 2
March 16, 2017
Middle Eastern Mayhem Part 1
Shutting out the Haters: Why Quitting to Travel is the Best Thing you'll Ever Do
October 31, 2016