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”
One could argue that after my most recent break-up I went a little bit off the rails. Not in a bad way, I don’t think; I didn’t isolate myself from all humanity to brood on a deserted island or go on an uncomfortably pointed social media rant rampage. Instead, I started window-shopping for guys. One night, in a burst of more-or-less justified anger over a boy who wouldn’t text me back, I downloaded the god-awful, notorious Tinder. more “Confessions of a Global Tinderella: Notes on Dating in Brazil”
Happy Sunday, guys!
How you’ve been? I’ve been taking a few weeks downtime from the blog, and this is the result: new look, new logo, new hosting (which I’m frankly still trying to figure out – what the hell are all these tech words I didn’t even know existed?) but the same, good old content. How do you like the new design?
As you probably know (because I can’t stop spamming it all over my Insta feed), I travelled in Bolivia in July, and one of the highlights of the trips was, as expected, my 3-day Jeep safari to Salar de Uyuni and the national parks around it. more “41 Pics to Prove That Salar de Uyuni Is Ridiculously Photogenic”
Hello friend! I surely hope you’ve been better than me.
Oruro is a god-awful, no-good lousy town. I make up my mind as soon as I jump out of the bus and the poignant smell of piss and trash hit me, a cocktail so typical to third-world towns and bus stations but which I have so far successfully avoided in Bolivia. It’s close to midnight, my mouth hurts and I’m alone in a new city that looks like a suburb to a violent Wild West village. I stomp past a woman yelling for passengers to the bus to Cochabamba, my next destination, and I long to jump on it and leave behind the empty, dark streets of this useless town, but I’m in need of a nice sleep and a thorough toothbrushing session even more, so I trudge along. more “Sunday postcard from… Oruro, Bolivia”