fact or fiction

Is it a fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores travel myths to help you avoid making that wrong turn.

Adventure Awaits
The little black book was familiar in her hands, like a long-forgotten memory. The cover was lightly textured, almost like leather. There was a little gold paper boat embossed at the bottom of the cover followed by the words ‘Adventure Awaits.’
By anastasia andreas6 years ago in Wander
New Leaf Cove
Spring was right around the corner and for Ben Kennway, it was just another season in a town longing for excitement. Ben was a 24 year old man living in a small town. It was enjoyable yet remarkably boring in his eyes. Ben stood at 5’11” tall, weighed about 175 pounds, had black hair, and brown eyes. He was an electrical engineer so he made a good wage and he was seeing a woman named Stephanie. Ben was a historic enthusiast. He loved history and since the town wasn’t too old, he enjoyed learning more about its origins and people who inhabited it all those years ago. The problem was he had already gotten a glimpse of all the history the town had to offer. Historic sights that included the town hall, the statue of the mayor at the center of town square, and the other houses that had an antique interior. He had already gone through the history books depicting what kind of town it was and what type of people lived in it. The town had its events but none of them ever caught Ben’s eye because the events were always related to the modern day. The park was the spot for every holiday gathering that the mayor hosted. Though the townsfolk loved these bits of additional celebrations, Ben was never too fond of them but this was all about to change. The town has always been involved with its community since the day it was founded in 1875. “New Leaf Cove” was the name of the town. The founders loved the phrase “Turning a new leaf..” and that refers to a change in one’s life. A new beginning or in metaphorical terms, a new chapter in one’s book.
By Kevin H6 years ago in Wander
An Act of Kindness
I looked down at the diary again. It was an unassuming little book, bound in black leather, worn by years of adventures and stories, the pages stained with ink, aged with drink splatters and blurred with splashes of tears.
By Lillie Rose6 years ago in Wander
The 30,000ft Gamble
The Airport Hike The grey walls and aggressive lighting of security seemed to melt away as I stepped into the polished halls of Duty-Free. I instantly felt more at ease under the warm lights, surrounded by sparkling luxury cosmetics.
By Minnie Davies6 years ago in Wander
When in Rome
The sudden discomfort of the park bench elicits more surprise than pain, but I cry out just the same shooting up from my anticipated resting spot. Jet-lagged and museum-weary I had neglected to look down. A small black Moleskine notebook with a gold fountain pen clipped to the cover now seems obvious. I look around for the owner. Most of the visitors have left, although a few remain on the benches bordering the tidy square that fronts the Borghese Galleries. The pathway leading into the wildly expansive public gardens is vacant. Rotating full circle, I see children lobbing acorns at protesting parakeets; a dog leaving a fresh lawn sculpture as its person chats obliviously on their phone; and a priest strolling in from the street, stopping to light a cigarette. For a moment he appears to be watching me, yet he looks away as our eyes meet.
By Laura Hanson Reber6 years ago in Wander
The Urubamba River
Two years had passed since John Gregory disappeared on the Urubamba River. Now, excited and eager to embark on his first significant expedition at eighteen, Ed looked at his aberrating reflection in the same river. He slapped his hands together to start the day. On the opposite bank, birds hidden in tall grasses fluttered and rose. Looking up from his reflection, he grinned as the birds weaved into the sky.
By Sami Saab6 years ago in Wander
Lost, Found
When I walked into the unassuming thrift store on the outskirts of the city, I knew there would be something there waiting for me. It was a magnetic feeling that, to this day, I can’t put into words. A calling.
By Travis Flack6 years ago in Wander
Thrifting
I always haunt the thrift stores when I have a couple of hours in a new city. I have a little side gig where I buy books in the Thrift Store for $2.50 or $3 and then I sell them online for $12 or $15. The percentages are pretty good, I just need to scale it up so I'm making the same return on say a $10,000 investment. Books like the Intelligent Investor by Benjamin Graham or The 48 Laws of Power by Robert Greene are titles that I can easily flip in a week and so even though I don't want to fill my suitcase with heavy books I'd buy any of those that I saw.
By Albert Scutt6 years ago in Wander
Goodnight Elizabeth
John sat bolt upright in the bed. He had been torn from his sleep by a disembodied voice and he was certain he’d felt the covers suddenly jerk across his legs. John sat panting and stared into the inky darkness of his room. This was not the first time he’d been woke up like this lately. His eyes bounced from one piece of furniture to the next. He shook his head when he realized he had hoped to see an actual person standing in his room, a noisy burglar would be a comfort. ‘Normal, sane people can have a burglar’ he thought ‘but a ghost, That’s a one-way ticket to the nut house!’
By Geoffrey Crosby6 years ago in Wander
Preserve the Bananaslingese
The Bananaslingese are the most isolated tribe in the world, and have captured the imagination of millions. This group of indigenous tribes has lived on their island for up to 55,000 years—and without outside influence. That’s right! They’ve had no contact with the outside world. The Bananaslingese inhabit a small forested island called North Bananasling, which is approximately the size of Manhattan. They resist all contact with outsiders by attacking any boat that approaches to close.
By R. L. LASTER6 years ago in Wander
Compulsion
I should start by saying that I’m not usually this type of person. The type to quit their job at a law firm, put their house on the market, and get on standby at the airport for whatever the next flight is out of the country. That’s not me. However, on this one blustery, rainy day in Seattle in late October, I was exactly that person. Before I could control this urge, this driving compulsion pushing me headlong into the unknown, I was halfway across the Atlantic heading to Croatia. I landed at the Zadar Airport and searched the directory for the next bus to an island, any island. Island. I thought to myself. I need to be on an island. Just before I got on the bus, a tall woman in a mismatched suit stopped me. Her pink hat with her lime green suit made her standout amongst the bustle of people going about their business.
By Karissa Pelletier6 years ago in Wander
In Dream
“Don’t you worry. Just a couple more miles up this road and we’ll be outta this storm.” The chauffeur grips the wheel but remains collected as he had the whole way here. I’ve seen many hard years but I must say the ride from the airport felt like the longest hour in all my life.
By Anthony Dahm6 years ago in Wander