here fallthe gingko leaves fluttering yellowfans cartwheeling freelyonto a carpetso radiant like old memoriesloosened by wind’s coolbreath (see how fall’s decayconvenespast golden moments) outshining daffodilswhich
Last days of November, rain string and almost solid, incessantly gathering darkness around it At one in the afternoon November, the “dead end of Autumn,”
Wild camping—that’s the Omani term for what we call primitive camping, Americans call dispersed camping and New Zealanders call freedom camping. We’d been wild camping
In the dark of the night, dreaming of their faces jolted me awake. Again. Even though it’s been almost two years since we saw them.
At our age, we’ve got a lot of baggage; I mean luggage. Big and small. Two-wheeled and four. Heavy and light. Burgundy and rusty orange.
After contending with a blizzard at Milford Sound and pounding rain at Paparoa, Magellan and I felt like snow birds when we arrived at Abel
This handy little widget allows you to easily click to our most recent stories, as well as our most popular posts and comments. You can also use the category widget to refine your search. Enjoy!
[Coming Soon!]
We’ve got lots more travel stories to come, so please sign up below to continue the journey. Using MailChimp, we’ll notify you each time a new post is added to our site, more or less weekly. Your info is safe with us — we promise not to send it on any trips.
We have lots of categories and tags to help you easily refine your search in our stories, but feel free to use this feature to find unique items. Perhaps try something delicious like ‘paella’.