My Journey Into Travel
I’ve always had an insatiable curiosity about the world. Growing up in a small town in southwestern Ontario, no one in my family traveled, and no one I knew had any desire to explore beyond our borders. But I was different.
My grandfather, who never traveled either, shared my passion for the world. He collected National Geographic magazines, and I spent countless hours flipping through them in the upstairs bathroom. I was captivated by the places, people, and stories I saw on those pages. I had a deep need to see these places, to hear the sounds, taste the food, and experience it all for myself.
My first international trip came when I was 19. I convinced a friend to come along, and we flew out without a care. This was in the days before cell phones, ATMs, and the internet. We landed in Frankfurt, having drunk peach schnapps and orange juice on the plane, and we were both nursing blinding headaches.
We had to figure out how to exchange money and navigate an unfamiliar airport with heavy backpacks. But we made it—until we came back to the airport and discovered there had been a bomb blast under the escalator. That was within the first 48 hours of my travels abroad, and despite all the challenges and chaos, it didn’t deter me. In fact, each struggle made the experience even more memorable.
I’ve had my share of difficult moments while traveling—earthquakes, floods, and more—but I’ve learned to keep going. Travel is about moving forward no matter the obstacles, and it's those moments that shape who you become as a traveler. They become the stories that you’ll tell and retell, adding depth to your experiences. Every hardship is just a part of the journey.