solo travel
You've got somewhere to go, but no one to go with; solo travel is the nexus of independence and opportunity.
Well-Built Fire
*** She wakes with a start, temporarily forgetting where she is. Bright white lights, cold white tile, a toilet nearby, and a sterile feel. Bags strewn about, a wooden chest painted with a stormy ship scene, and a luggage cart-- ah yes, she remembers now. She is at the London airport, hour 20 of a 30 hour layover. Her body aches in testament to this assessment.
By Anzh Ondrisek3 years ago in Wander
On The Road- Journal Part 1 (#TeamTera,Sapper&Jemma)
My dear friend, My name is Tera. This year, I celebrate my 50th birthday. Recently, I've gone through many periods of depression, midlife crisis's and inventories of my life. Nothing made me feel complete. There was an emptiness and marked sadness I constantly carried around with me. These feelings were associated with realizing I have never done anything to, "Make a Difference or have Purpose." A toll on my heart that is hard to bare.
By Tera Le Febvre3 years ago in Wander
For Iceland and other Dreams
There was absolutely nothing remarkable about the small, battered black book that lay in his lap. The spine was coming apart at the edges, frayed binding and torn chips of leather telling a story of a life of use. The cover -mottled with patches of alternating rough and smooth leather worn down by years of handling, was a patchwork of history written in friction. He hadn't dared open it yet, his hands still locked around the frail, bony hand dangling off the edge of the pristine hospital bed. Like the book, the hand was worn and weathered, translucent skin clinging loosely to what remained of the once strong bones beneath. Finn could barely feel a pulse, a movement - any indication that his grandfather was more than a lifeless husk. Each ragged wheeze preceded an agonising silence, a pause that opened a gaping chasm in Finn's stomach until another whisper of air escaped those dry and pallid lips. A strained rhythm stretched across the dying hours of sunlight, hypnotic and exhausting, until the sun dipped below the faintly glowing clouds and the rhythm ended.
By Matt Greenwood3 years ago in Wander
Adventures with Helen
Pulling into the parking spot that likely did not exist a few years earlier, Hope fought the tears threatening to spill over for a place she never visited. This gas station was not supposed to be here; it should be a cute little restaurant celebrating its 150th birthday.
By Eryn Milliken3 years ago in Wander
The Gateway To The Great Smoky Mountains
Hometown is more than a word, it is more than a place. It is a feeling. A feeling that brings peace and comfort. While I was not born in Maryville, I do call it my home town. This town in rich with history, culture, and in recent years a fantastic artistic movement.
By Ariana Micheal3 years ago in Wander
Why I Dove Headfirst Into the Ocean at Midnight
Back in 2016 I was pretty reckless. On a whim, I bought plane tickets to Ireland for a two week time frame knowing absolutely nothing about the country. I had just moved home at age 22 to start pursuing some kind of degree from a local community college, and I was feeling desperate for some kind of adventure.
By Nicholas J Stewart3 years ago in Wander
A Hitchhikers Journey Pt.2
*These stories are honest/raw and may not be for the faint o' heart. The days came and went, from thawing icy mornings, to cool mid-afternoons... and November was already three quarters close to being over.. I'd been writing alot in my journal and taking the time to heal. & although I was in Texas, it was still freezing by the time night had fallen.. and I'd find myself lying awake at night, watching the cold air exhale a faint cloud from my lungs upon every breath.. My sleeping bag was not built for such low temps, in fact it was only a 40 degree protectant.. I figured it'd get warmer within each state I voyaged through, but unfortunately that was not the case... & My boots and shoes now had gaping holes where the soles and padded rubber used to be.. & I'd now accumilated a cute little family of blisters on each foot, and kept getting pebbles and sand stuffed underneath my socks when I walked... which kindly ripped the blisters open over and over... After packing up camp one afternoon, we'd begun walking toward the downtown area of the city we were in to gather some supplies and necessities for Pup & I... After a few miles, a strange little white man pulled into the parking lot dead ahead of me, and got out of his vehicle quite excitedly... where we then met after only a few steps toward one another. He greeted me with a smile and then looked down at Pup.. asking where I got her, etc.... He seemed peculiar in his interest and kinda caught me off guard.. I wasn't really sure what to make of him. He then said, "That's a Thai Ridgeback!, a very rare and expensive breed!..., would you consider selling her? I'm sure folk like you could make use of the money, being out here all alone.." I wrapped the rope being used for a leash a little tighter around my hand, and kindly expressed my zero interest in selling, or negotiating any type of deal for her.. She was now officially; My Road Dawg.
By Mark W. Donovan3 years ago in Wander
The greatest city in the world
The last time I visited Paris, I had braces on my teeth and problematic teenage acne pockmarking my face. I was going through a serious awkward phase and spent most of my days being driven around on a coach packed with 60 other teenagers with similar, life changing problems.
By Lauren Gilmour3 years ago in Wander