The UK is broken, and maybe we can’t fix it.
I went trekking in Nepal, and all I got was a swollen brain. Spoiler alert: I’m still alive. Luckily, I have friends who like me with a normal-sized brain.
Travelling as a solo female isn’t as dangerous as people tend to make it out to be. But in this part of the world, I feel more vulnerable than I have anywhere else, and I’m not entirely sure I’m okay with it.
Apparently, even I have my limits, but they aren’t as dramatic or as impressive as you might expect. Costa Rica, of all places, is where I finally broke down, and ran back home. Here’s why.
Once again, I’ve lost a whole pile of my things in a foreign country. But instead of this spurring me to reject materialism and all its perceived evils, I choose to embrace it.
I’ve been so busy, I completely abandoned blog posts for six months. In that time, I went to ten different countries, bought a motorbike and learned to ride it, and made a few websites.
Feeling adrift in Istanbul, a city of minaret spires and sludgy coffee that spans two continents. More rambling on “home” when you’re a vagabond.
I spent a month slow-travelling through Southeast Asia’s broken places. My tales of losses, gains, and high-powered automatic rifles amid the chaos.
I’ve recently come to the realization that I do everything in a rather unorthodox way. Somehow, it all works, and I’m intensely happy.
This whole world-tour business is pretty intense. I’ve travelled a lot, but it still trips me up sometimes. Here’s how I’m staying sane, so far.