Author: Gregor Snell        

I am a traveller who lives for the moment and dreams of the future.  I am one who relishes in the experience. I smile and laugh, cry and bleed. The people I meet are everything to me. I want to share with them, to listen, to be a small insignificant part of their beautiful life. Am I selfish? Do I expect too much?

The greatest part of travel is the people you meet and the friendships you create.  This is something that will never get old, never tire, no matter what your age, what your story, the world awaits and the people are there to hear you. So speak if you will, or hold your tongue and just wait. But consider the fact that the world is always in motion, so don’t get caught standing still.

A road which winds and curves is not unlike that of a life lived. We all have ups and downs no matter what.  We have all felt loss, guilt, greed, love. Something that is beautiful to my eye may revolt you, but we can still work to find a commonality in a cause.  I love travel for the patience, the compromise, the acceptance of another’s culture, habits, needs, addictions.  The road is long and hard but its rewards are endless and fruitful beyond that of which these words try merely to describe.

I do not believe there needs to be a reason for why some people travel.  We are seemingly looking for an excuse, something to tell people when they ask, “so why did you come here?”  I would love to say one day, “I came here to meet you.”  Local interaction and international conversations are something that is becoming increasingly clear to me. This is why I travel.

Am I ever content? Will I ever be content? At this point in my life the answer is simply ‘no.’ Do I know what it is I strive for?  Haha, no, I have no idea.

I am a traveller who lives for the moment and dreams of the future.

Story and photo's by: Ivona Siniarska

While Brazil is a country that I know is stunning and has many cities to visit, as well as one of the world’s largest waterfalls, there is a lot to see I will have to return for. Last Easter, I simply flew down for the weekend (wouldn’t recommend changing hemisphere’s for three days unless you have to) to see my 7th and final world wonder (Christ Redeemer), and quickly fell in love with Rio De Janeiro, the city, its people, and the lifestyle.

So here are the five things I would recommend you have to do (though I am sure there are hundreds more) if you only have a few days in this beautiful city:

Author: Gregor Snell

The first week of vacation is amazing.  Everything is new and all of the experiences are so different from those at home. I tend to miss the scenes of daily life everywhere around me. Eventually I begin to open my eyes and see the real movement. People are going to work, kids to school, traffic approaching rush hour, routine. Routine is everywhere around me. Do you lose routine when you travel?

When I travel I throw my own routine out the window. I get fat, I don't exercise (other than walking, a lot), I don't necessarily eat well, I drink too much, etc. etc.  Sometimes I think this is the reason most people go on vacation anyway. I love it, but at the same time I feel a little guilty for letting myself slip.

Is being on vacation not meant to be party, sleep, party, party?  This is all fun and games but where are the cultural experiences, the local interaction? People are buying, selling, moving, going about their daily lives while I just sit and observe. I am the passenger.

I think, shit, it's Tuesday, everyone I know back home would be slaving away behind their desks, working. Sometimes I forget that “normal” people go about their lives in a very steady, secure routine. Travel is a chance to let this go and live for the moment, as cheesy at that may sound, sometimes it’s a liberating experience to drop everything in your life and hit the road.

Story and Photos by: Mittie Roger

When I went to Budapest, I (sadly) only had a weekend (wedged between two other trips) to taste the Paris of the East. My hotel room was on the Pest side of the Danube River, a niche in a fortified building, a cockroach riddled, pock-marked veteran of the 1956 revolution. Outside my window, clotheslines hung above city traffic and constructions. I had to get my priorities in order. How would I see so much in so little time? I cursed myself for having the plane ticket to Athens. I was already smitten with Hungary.

First thing is first. I had to eat. Ok, so in this regard I’m biased. I will always choose eating and drinking local fare as my number one unless I’m in England (sorry UK!) It’s a great way to chat with locals and get a genuine taste of the flavors of the culture. I found an underground spot where steamy aromas filled the cheap, dimly-lit eatery, and ate till I nearly exploded.

Story and Photos by: Mittie Roger

When I set off to Machu Picchu, I had no idea that my hiking partner would need an Incan descendent to carry him piggyback down the Camino Inca. Back in Louisiana, where I’m from, I’d trained like an idiot, taking my gator bait dog off leash in the swamps for hours with my fully loaded pack. Porters were out of the question. When I asked if he felt ready, he shrugged. “I’ve done outward bound.”

So off we went, from below sea level to a peak of 12,000 feet, hiking for 4 days through lush, foggy forest and into alpine climbs, pushing aside hallucinogenic Angel’s Trumpets and slurping coco leaf tea. After the first day, his right knee was aching. “Can I put a few things in your pack?” The next day it was the other knee. “I guess I was favoring it,” he said. Some more stuff hopped into my pack.

Written by: Gregor Snell

The earth whips past at what seems an incredible speed. I slowly draw my eyes from the road side and allow them to adjust. A tree stands alone in the midst of a wheat field. Its solitary beauty reminds me of a burial site I once visited. As the thought passes the field disappears from view and another takes its place. Over, and over.

My mind continues to wander. I comfortably slip into one of my favourite pass times while travelling, sitting on a bus, looking out the window. I take my iPod, crank some tunes, and let my imagination fly. Moving at a speed like that of the road side, this is it, my mind adjusts to roaming the endless possibilities of human creation and I let my eyes drift back to the window. The view from a bus with ten hours to go, vamos.

Story and photos by: Ivona Siniarska

I have always traveled, and I volunteered before in various parts of the world, however I have never traveled with the sole purpose of volunteering; this was my reason for journeying to Ghana.

If you’ve met me or spoken to me you know that the very mention of Africa will cause my eyes to sparkle and I will smile in nostalgia from the months spent here last year. This trip is no different, I miss Ghana, most importantly I miss the kids, my beautiful kids, the ones who bring twinkles to the eyes and make my heart pitter patter.

In mid May when I was boarding my flight from Washington to Accra I wont lie, I had a mini breakdown, caught myself worried that emotionally I may not be able to handle spending time in a village so remote with people who have so little.

This is where I am ashamed of myself, Ghanaians like many other Africans may not necessarily possess a lot but in Dodowa I was reminded that while we Westerners may have a lot more that we own, in Africa there is one consistency across the continent that I find we struggle with in North America and that is humanity.

Its weird,the continent of Africa probably has more genetic diversity than the rest of the world combined with over 2000 languages spoken and countless cultural, tribal, and religious beliefs as well, yet I speak of it as though it were a country (and never would I refer to Europe or South America in the same sense); but in every country I have been to in Africa (13 so far) people share one goal other than survival and that is to be happy.

There is a universal language of celebration across Africa that is usually expressed through music; while the rhythms and dancing will vary – you will always find people dancing with rejoice – enjoying being human, celebrating each day and proclaiming their love of life. It is not that in the first world we don’t celebrate – but our daily achievements are almost always shadowed with a false modesty. In Africa neighbors celebrate being together, living next to each other and being able to wake up each day with the sun. Walk the streets of any big city in North America and you will see people stressed out, frowning or grumpy… I have yet to see anyone in Africa frown.

Written by: Gregor Snell

An expanse of land with no boundaries, save the ocean and air.

People associate with one another by the crest they bear, the place for which they can communally call home.  It is beautiful to see those from afar communicate with one another, learn to love tendencies, annoyances, expressions, language, and emotions. To forget our medial borders and to live as a part of this earth we all but too often take for granted.

Travel is an amazing education. Go, the world is at your doorstep.

Story and photos by: Gregor Snell

The day before me looks to be a long one. I turn off my alarm and roll out of the hostel. Alright time to move. A 5am wake up and transfer to airport leads to a four hour flight followed by an easy hour interval before the next. Just enough time to grab a bite and walk to the new departure gate. 1pm take off, more coffee and a shit sandwich served by a surprisingly cute flight attendant. I guess she's in her early twenties, keen to start a lengthy career in serving shit sandwiches. I smile back.

We land at 6pm and no doubt, I'm hungry. Unfortunately no time to eat, there is a car waiting to take me another hour to my next hotel. We arrive a half hour late due to construction on route. Fun. Luckily a friend is still waiting for me in the lobby. I say hello, check in, drop my bags in the room, change my shirt and leave with cash in pocket.

My friend picks up on my apparent lack of interest, "come on man, this is the city, you know the party never stops. It's been awhile, let’s go hit the town." I don't need convincing. The only thing on my mind is some food and a cold beer. "Dude, what do I look tired? Come on, let’s go." I hand my key back to the reception no later than three minutes after first picking it up.

From the days beginning I had spent 15 hours reaching my destination. A relatively easy day spent in a life in transit.

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