10 Ways Travelling in South America Made Me More Confident

Travel changes you. It changes you subtly and slowly and tremendously, and when that change is done, you can never just go back to your old comfortable self and tell yourself, ‘Well, that was fun, but that’s enough.’

One of the most fundamental reasons we keep returning to the road is not to find new places but to find ourselves. We get addicted to that rush of self-improvement, that feeling of standing on our own two feet with the ability to say that we’ve come further than we ever thought possible, both in miles and our minds. more “10 Ways Travelling in South America Made Me More Confident”

To the Man Who Grabbed My Hair

Rio de Janeiro is a wonderful place during the Carnaval. Foreigners and locals alike come together in loud, colourful street parties, blocos, partying alongside the drummers and more talented dancers until the last of them have disappeared and it’s time to crowd the night clubs and dance the night away. Spontaneous small talk between strangers sprouts out of nowhere; two shirtless guys, both wearing a unicorn horn, high five and continue on their way; the crowd cheers and whistles at a boy and a girl passionately making out in the middle of the parade; the city puts its best foot forward for a weekend of carefree partying and fun in the sun.

But there is another side to it. more “To the Man Who Grabbed My Hair”

I Can’t Tell You How to Deal with Homesickness

For one reason or another, this post has been drifting around my drafts folder since the day I started this blog – for nearly two years – and I never got around to publishing it. Now that it’s finally time for it to see daylight, I find my mind changed.

The original post started with the words: I can’t tell you how to deal with homesickness, because I don’t get homesick.

Now I have to retract that statement and correct myself: I can’t tell you how to deal with homesickness because frankly, it is a completely new feeling for me. more “I Can’t Tell You How to Deal with Homesickness”

Myanmar: Regaining the sense of adventure

With the nightfall came the rain. It fell heavy on the windshield as our cab crept along the traffic, slowly shuffling forward. The bus station turned out to be a maze of little holes in walls instead of one big terminal as I had imagined. Heavy rain rushed my parting with the Dutch couple I had known for a fleeting moment as they hurried off to their next destination, separate from mine. As I was trying to figure out my arrival time to Mandalay, it became apparent that no one else on the bus spoke English, and I couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t what I had always wanted. It had always been so; even when I was fifteen and everyone I knew was running off abroad for a few weeks, practicing a new language and adulthood, I was the one who chose a destination that no one else had picked. I was the odd one out, the wild card; the only one deviating from the worn trail left by backpackers before me; all alone, perhaps, but by my own choice. It had always been so; it would always remain so. more “Myanmar: Regaining the sense of adventure”