Gorilla Trekking, Bwindi
Twenty-plus countries a year for work, plus a fair few for no good reason. The travelling started as a want rather than a strategy. It has turned out to be the most useful strategy of all.
A hundred is the target, thirty-two to go. Though the number matters less than the fact there’s always somewhere next.
Not necessarily the most photogenic, but the ones that changed how I think, or that I still bring up at dinner years later.
Landscapes that stop you mid-sentence, and people who make you feel like you have always been there. Almost five years of calling it home. I left, but not entirely.
The birthplace of wine, still barely discovered and living the true essence of hospitality. The simplest ingredients turned into some of the most delicious food I have eaten anywhere.
Tooth by jowl in small eateries eating some of the best food in the world, then a short boat ride to islands that are almost entirely empty.
A short spell in East Africa in my twenties left me in love with the culture. Returning for work, and an epic ride through the Rift Valley and Masai Mara, sealed it.
The colour, the chaos, the bold flavours, the open hearts, the sheer ingenuity. Very few places on earth give you so much at once.
A summer working in Toronto on one trip, a cross-country RV run for a glossy magazine on another. Endlessly diverse, quietly charming and holding more wilderness than any one visit can cover.
One is a list of places worth your time. The other is what I noticed while I was there. Both are ongoing.
Places I’d actually send you to. Hotels, restaurants, bars and the occasional experience, filtered by whether I’d go back rather than whether they paid for a listing. Tagged so you can find the right one for the trip you’re taking.
Shorter pieces written on the road. Sometimes an industry observation, sometimes a family trip that went sideways, sometimes just something I ate that I’m still thinking about. Less polished than the consulting work, which is rather the point.
Not every trip makes it into the Black Book or a Field Note. The half-formed thoughts, the meals worth photographing and whatever country I have wandered into this week all end up there first.