TRAVEL STORIES FOR THE WANDERER:

 
 

It’s funny how much emotion one picture can evoke. The first picture I took during our Central American adventure was of my breakfast. We arrived in Nicaragua late. Immediately took a taxi to our hostel, had a celebratory drink and fell asleep after 24 hours of travel. We woke to explore a brand new city, innocent and fresh, lacking any signs of a weathered traveller. We didn’t have a tan, our clothes were crisp and clean. We were well groomed and probably more noticeable than the rest, we were lost in our surroundings. We had taken the easy route that morning and went to a well known breakfast joint that was recommended by our travel guide. We sat on the balcony...

As we began driving, the city lights and the car horns were so familiar, but at the same time drastically different. It was poor. One of the poorest places we had been. Signs for chicken shacks littered the roadside. Old rusted cars putzed along beside us while the smell of burning garbage filled the air. Our windows were down. Not neccesarily by choice, as there was no handle remaining to roll them up. At first we welcomed the fresh air. After several hours in airports and on planes, the warm evening breeze was electrifying. As we drove down the road and the airport lights slowly faded, the fact that we were alone in a foreign and third-world country quickly became a...

Anyone that travels will attest to how quickly and deeply bonds form with your fellow adventurers. There is an overwhelming sense of camaraderie. Everyone offers advice and pointers, telling you the best parts of town to visit as well as the ones to avoid. Which places are overrun by tourists and which places are raw and beautiful. They tell you about amazing food from local restaurants and the dreadful places that nobody should ever dare enter. They told me not to eat the ceviche. There was a laundry list of rumors from food poisoning to tape worms and every horrible reaction you can think of. Generally, I adhere to the advice of veteran travelers because quite frankly, they've been doing this longer than...

Phạm Ngũ Lão Street : Backpacker's District : Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), Vietnam There was a night in Saigon, Vietnam when we sat on the street drinking beer in child sized plastic chairs. Both sides of the street were filled with people lined up facing each other. Just staring at each other, like a drunken, lazy version of Red Rover. The ultimate people watching. I was honestly waiting for someone to yell ‘charge’ and both sides of the street to lunge at each other and start brawling. It never happened. Instead, we just repeatedly said no to locals trying to sell us bracelets, cigarettes, and candy. - Photo Credit : Mad Monkey Hostels...




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