I’ve never liked talking about myself. My adventures? Definitely. Advice? Sure, if you think I can help. But myself?
If you’re going to listen to a braggart, I would hope he is an interesting one. My life is pretty interesting, but no more than it would be for anyone else in my shoes.
I talk about my shoes instead. Which is why I write. it allows me to tell me stories, to invite others into my adventures… without being the guy at the party trying to outdo everyone else with stories. Here, I can tell as many stories as I want without it turning into a pissing match with others (Oh, you lived in Bolivia? La Paz was alright, it reminded me of my adventures throughout Kazakhstan, and other silly things you’ll hear people say when they feel their alpha status threatened).
Here, I can talk about the exorcisms I had in Brasil. Or the times I’ve woken up in a hospital. Or a more simple list of the countries I’ve been to and how I went about each one. And I can do so without hogging the microphone, without others feeling somehow challenged, without being that guy.
So here you have it. The stories of the 15 countries, 10+ jobs, and countless adventures I’ve had over the last year, plus some throwback Thursdays.
Maybe other travellers will read it and we can trade stories or explore together. Maybe I can inspire others to do the same. At the very least, my mom can know that I’m alive and having fun.