humanity
If nothing else, travel opens your eyes to the colorful quilt that is humankind.
Let's Cross Over
I would decorate my entire body in tattoos if I had the money, time and trusted someone so much that I knew that they knew exactly how I would want to be decorated. My thighs would be full of phoenix rising from ashes and my back immersed in dream catchers. Butterflies would trail down my arms and turn into daisy chains around my wrists, with mandalas and henna style patterns scattered all around and inbetween.
Jenny RadiancePublished 4 years ago in Wander- Top Story - September 2020
I'm nothing without Travel Industry
You might think that the title is a bit of exaggeration but let's be honest... It's been half a year since we were forced to "stay home" and I don't see the end of it. Again, you might think I'm exaggerating but we all thought it would be gone by summer. Then the summer came along and somehow nothing changed. Now we are going into the fall and all the restrictions seem to come back, stay the same or simply not go away any time soon. It makes me wonder if the travel industry will survive all of that? Are we ever going to travel the way we used to?
Martyna DearingPublished 4 years ago in Wander 10 Most Popular Festivals of India For Indian Brands to Market a Product
A country with a diverse mix of peoples, there is no dearth of festivals in India. Home to Hindus, Christians, Muslims, Sikhs, Buddhists, and Jains, India celebrates some festival or the other throughout the year. The festive season is something that everyone looks forward to. Not only people but also big brands! The festive season is also a season for shopping, be it for clothes, household appliances, furniture, vehicles, jewelry, holiday travel, and much more. Hence this is the time for marketers to announce festive offers, discounts, special sales, and so on, to entice the customers to shops and loosen their purse strings. In the process, the Indian economy also gets a much-needed boost.
2700 Miles From Home
There is a place I keep dreaming of. Come with me, I'll take you there. Remove your shoes, you don't need them. Feel the chill of the floor beneath your feet. It's polished black marble, little white veins of crystal quartz weaving through it. Trace the white lines with your toe, feel how chaotic and random they are. We're in a building, a home, with one singular room. All the space is wide open like a ranch style house with no interior walls.
M R BrittonPublished 4 years ago in WanderMy Camino de Santiago
The Camino de Santiago. Many journeys to the same place, and for me a total of 900 kilometers from the French Pyranees, through Santiago de Compostella, and on to Finisterre - the western coast of Spain or the end of the world as it was known to the pilgrims who undertook this journey over 1000 years ago. Why did I do this thing? I'm by no means a crazy hiker. I didn't train for this and really, I had no idea what I was in for. All I knew was that after ending an 18 year relationship, I was broken and lost. I desperately needed some time out - a life break, if you like. Some space away from everything familiar to process what had happened and work out what was next. And time to heal. For whatever reason, I had the sense that the Camino would do that. I think I thought that walking a really long way would somehow magically heal me and that I would suddenly know what needed to come next. Maybe by pushing my physical boundaries, I would unravel something inside and things would just fall into place? Well, that sounds crazy. What on earth was I thinking??!
Kate Seares-BurnsidePublished 4 years ago in WanderThe Lost Art of a Lost State of Mind
As I make my way across the harsh basin floor near the Red Rock Valley in the wide open state of Nevada, breathe in the fresh mountain air and watch mindfully as my daughter treads along beside me, I can only appreciate the very fact that we can, in fact, traverse this countryside with a sense of peace. Peace not only in the sense of the revitalization one receives upon setting foot in such an arid land, but in the fact that one can, indeed, step out of their vehicle and know that something so beautiful, so intriguing and yet, so dangerous can exist to this day in a way where we can enjoy it freely without borders.
Danielle McCalipPublished 4 years ago in WanderTall tells of Old Salty
Salty lived for adventure, from hiking through Copper canyon in Chihuahua Mexico to swimming with leather-back turtles in the Galapagos islands. Always Salty would take along a friend or two. Allen, who walked with a limp, having lost a few toes to snapping turtles, not all at once, of course. Then there was Riley who took pride in being the only person to survive having been swallowed whole by a giant squid. There were no witnesses but no one would dare doubt a story of a trusted friend. On this particular trip Salty had decided to take along One eyed Jeff. All we know is that Jeff lost his eye in a seagull related accident, the details have always been vague. Now Salty and One eyed Jeff had decided to take on the task of trying to catch the elusive muskie in the lakes of Elk Heart Wisconsin. It was a cold and foggy morning as the two cast off the dock in the rented row boat. Salty knew something was just not going that well as they rowed back, some three hundred yards, to the dock where they both had assumed the other had loaded the fishing gear. As they came closer to the dock, One eyed Jeff reached out to grab the gear. Off course with limited depth perception, Jeff grab nothing but fog and fell head first into the shallow water. His sudden departure caused the craft to rock sending Salty of the other end. The two grabbed the sides of the boat and swam the mighty vessel back to the dock, where they could reach their poles and tackle. After placing the equipment into the boat they attempted to climb back into the vessel. Both had passed geometry with high D's so they both tried to climb in from the same side. After several dives they recovered the tackle from the bottom of the lake. And after two more attempts with similar results, the pair agreed to declare a victory because now they had five poles, three tackle boxes an two anchors. Fully soaked and very cold they returned they boat to the dock. Hoping to warm themselves they made their way into the local 24/7 dinner. Dripping with moss and mud they sloshed into a corner booth. As Stella, the overnight waitress approached the two, which at this point could have easily been mistaken for a pair of swamp monsters. She spoke. Welcome back Salty. Productive morning on the lake? Salty snapped back quickly. Stella we are glad to report the boats are sea worthy and the underwater fish count seems high this season. Now could we get our usual and could you help me get this bass out of my slicker?
Russell HarrisPublished 4 years ago in WanderFalling in Love With America
It had been a life changing journey. The shift in my attitude towards America and Americans over the last three weeks was inconceivable. I pulled up outside the yellow neon lights of Izzy’s Diner. Still unsure of how to park in America, I picked a random bay on Glenham Drive and stopped the car. Checking the clock on the dashboard, I saw it was 3.37am, just about my birthday. I always counted a birthday to start as soon as you woke up, not before you went to bed.
Stephen JohanssonPublished 4 years ago in WanderFrance Roadtrip Nightmare
To Whom It May Concern: While traveling, it is common for one to experience a brief moment of “Oh my gosh this is my life!” For me, this usually happens during a private wine tasting in Portugal or watching the Eifel Tower twinkle at night while gnawing on a baguette. But there are few moments, even in life, where that glimpse of awe turns into a short reality. This moment happened for the six days I spent living out of a campervan through France. It was an accumulation of driving through the French Alps, hiking to waterfalls and rivers, picking wildflowers in a field, laying on the beach in Nice, eating fresh cherries we picked from a tree and the list goes on. Van life is what everyone made it cracked out to be – truly a dream.
Haley TongePublished 4 years ago in WanderAre You Home?
Home. A simple word with an extremely complex meaning. A word that means something different to everyone. A word that can change its meaning at the drop of a hat.
Shae MorenoPublished 4 years ago in WanderPeyote and Potatoes
The night time temperature in July hovered at 75 degrees, a welcome relief from the sweltering 110 earlier in the day. The humidity was low, making it bearable. Wyatt had left his remote desert home three hours earlier to make his monthly trek into the nearest town for provisions, a Calico Print newspaper and a hot meal from the local diner there. It was 1890, and he had spent his recent days mining for silver in the nearby hills, after heading West to seek his fortune. He was still grieving the loss of his young wife, 20 years his junior. Six months ago, Tess had left him for a prosperous banker in Blythe, PA where they lived. More than anything, he missed her cooking. Her Scottish origins meant that he was treated to a steaming pan of rumbledethumps every Sunday night. It was his favorite meal of the week.
Dana RogersPublished 4 years ago in WanderAmsterdam, where umbrella's come to die.
As a private tour guide, I am the missing link between what the Dutch think is worth showing off and what the actual visitors want to see.
LoukaliciousPublished 4 years ago in Wander