Peru · Altitude and awe
Morning mist, stone terraces, and the kind of silence that makes you whisper without knowing why.
I do not chase every country for a tally. I chase the feeling of being awake in a place that was not mine yesterday.
My trips start with a question, not an itinerary: What do I want to understand? Sometimes that is history, standing above Machu Picchu and feeling small in the best way. Sometimes it is rhythm, Tokyo at night, a million polite collisions of light and motion.
I travel with a notebook, a slightly overpacked bag, and Finn when borders and airlines allow. I stay longer in fewer places. I talk to people who are not in guidebooks.
Morning mist, stone terraces, and the kind of silence that makes you whisper without knowing why.
Order and chaos holding hands. Also: the best convenience-store egg sandwich of my life.
Islands that look painted. Sunsets that feel unfair to other coastlines.
Routes, budgets, and trails I am thinking about right now.
Freelance writing, slow travel, and the boring spreadsheet truth behind life on the road with Finn.
A photo essay from Nepal: prayer flags, tea houses, thin air, and the pace that stayed with me.
Why I booked a one-way ticket to Saint-Jean, what I am packing, and where Finn fits in the plan.