It feels like that time.

8 whole months.

243 friggin days.

Who would’ve thought?

It’s been a trip alright, more than I ever imagined it to be from the onset. I’ve hit highs I could have only dreamt of reaching and lows I never wish to experience again, but it’s all part of the experience I guess.

I've visited 6 countries, mostly on quick whirl wind tours aside from Indonesia and India. Nothing I've seen anywhere came close to the magic I experienced in my 5 months exploring India. The culture, history, people, sights, and landscapes are in a league of their own. I suppose it's subjective and everyone has their own opinion, but it truly is one of the greatest travel destinations on earth. Not a day has gone by that I didn't find my mind wandering, reflecting on one of my countless train rides or random tea stall conversations I had with a friendly local.

I am very much looking forward to home, I miss my family and friends like crazy, so much so that to continue on travelling would simply be a waste. I’m not properly absorbing the amazing things that are right before my eyes any more. I need a recharge, or a reset, one of the two.

This won’t be my last adventure, not even close. I’ve pushed myself to the boundaries and came out relatively unscathed. Why stop now? This go where the hell I want attitude towards travel I’ve adopted is exactly what I wanted to have in the end. No more pre-trip anxieties, no longer am I frightened of the unknown, quite the opposite actually. I can look at a map like a restaurant menu after this trip, the only obstacle for my next meal being the cost in dollars.

There is one more currency that travel requires besides dollars, and that is time. You shouldn’t look at the year you were born to see if you should take that trip, you’re never too old to pack your bags and take off somewhere if that’s something you crave. More so you need to envision the year you expire and use that as an incentive. This is a limited time only, one shot deal we have in life. I’ve met people of all ages travelling, couples, solo travellers, and countless families with their children as well. It was like wishfully looking into a mirror when I looked at these couples and their young kids, especially in India. It might be easier to put the family up in a resort somewhere in Mexico to sip cocktails and watch movies as oppose to monastery hopping in the Himalayas, but it sure as hell ain’t as rewarding. It showed me that it’s never really over, you can travel at any time in your life.

There’s a stack of bills waiting for me when I walk back into my apartment tomorrow, both the paper kind and some ones in my head, but I think I’m ready to deal with them. In preparation I’ve been continually asking myself if I’ve changed in the slightest from this trip, more so this past month as I knew home was on the horizon. I’d read my 1^st blog post over and over trying to think if I really applied this “seize the moment” attitude to each and every day. Unfortunately I can’t say that I have, I still got some work to do. Perhaps I’m being a bit hard on myself but it’s true. It's just that with everything I’ve experienced -all the scrupulous characters I’ve had to deal with along the way-I simply do not take bullshit from anyone anymore, including from the dude in mirror.

I’ll call out a dishonest rickshaw driver just as quick as a lie I tell to myself.

So maybe that’s just as good.

It's been a hell of a ride but it's time to get off...for now.

Thanks for following!

This picture below has nothing to do with the current country I’m in, it’s simply just a picture. It’s not even that great of a picture to be honest, there’s a bright sun spot near the centre that bothers me and I don’t know how to photoshop it out. Secondly it’s full of tourists; I try and keep all foreigners out of frame whenever I shoot, gives a more authentic cultural feel to the photo.  It is one of my favourites though, not because of what’s in the picture but because of what I was thinking at the time when it was taken. I don’t really  know what I was thinking, can’t recall exactly. But I do know that I was happy. I was exhilarated and grateful to be in that spot, in that country, watching the sunrise on that very day. 

Every time I look at it I get that same feeling.

I love travelling.

Matunga Hill- Hampi, Karnataka, India. February 2012.

Sumba and Bali.

The island of Sumba was probably the most challenging place I've visited on this trip. It seemed like the only time I'd meet someone who I could communicate with in English were the places I'd never expect them to be, like a deserted beach or a village far away from the main townships of Waingapu and Waikabubak. It was a rewarding experience but I quickly realised I may have bit off more than I can chew when I couldn't even check into a hotel room. Five staff members, one Indonesian phrase book, and some pretty pathetic charade moves on my part was still not enough for me to get the room I was looking for. I left after 5 days, by no means defeated...just a little exhausted.

Back to Bali I went, only this time to the place I for some reason initially tried to avoid one month prior -Kuta Beach.

It's the Nickleback of Bali I guess you could say; the place everyone loves to hate. It has its fair share of reasons to be hated this is true, but for those who say you can't experience some authentic Balinese culture here are taking it a bit too far. There's a large population of residents coming from all parts of the archipelago that simply live and breathe surfing here. The tourist dollar may have brought them but it's the waves and beach life that keep them put. This stretch of ocean is important to them as Ipanema Beach would to be a Cariocan. Like it or not, surfing is as much a part of Kuta as art and dance is to the rest of Bali.

So where does authenticity lie in one of the most visited islands in Asia? It lies in the local population, and the ones who frequent Kuta Beach selling drinks, renting surf boards, and just basically enjoying every waking moment of their lives are as authentic as they come for this part of Bali. Their uncanny ability to remember faces and names amazed me, their ability to guess nationalities and yell pick up lines to passing women in any language from Japanese to Dutch amused me, it seemed the only time a smile would leave their face is if there were no swells to surf, even then it was only momentarily. This held true for almost all locals I met, from shopkeepers to hotel staff alike, hell even a few cab drivers had a charismatic way about them. The locals here turned out to be some of the most entertaining and down right coolest dudes I've met in my travels. Sure they may not be able to perform an authentic Balinese Legong dance, or carve out a Buddha statue from solid stone with their eyes closed, but for me they are what I'll really remember Bali for.

I lazed away about 9 days all together in Kuta, and just like the rest of my longer than expected stops it was the people I met which really kept me put. My second night there while enjoying a beverage at a table alone, I was invited over to join a group of fellow Canadians; the week that followed is just a blur of hangovers, good times, and good memories. But with new friendships comes new goodbyes, and I was soon on my own again. The flip side to this whole travelling solo thing.

Lately I've been asking myself how much longer I can keep this going, the longest which I've ever been away from home was 30 days before I embarked on this adventure. It's been over 6 months and counting now.

I've also been asking myself if this trip has changed me -for better, for worse, or for neither. I can't say it has at this point, I still feel like the same dude who woke up that morning in February way back when.

'The more I try to change, the more I feel the same' 

I didn't write that line by the way...it's from a song called Boondigga. Google that shit yo.

What this trip has given me is a new appreciation for just how bloody easy I have it in Canada.

It's also given me a life time worth of memories that I can bring up at will, like an endless supply of day dreams-on-demand, Netflix style. They'll prove invaluable when I go back to the daily grind of work (whenever the hell that is).

Most importantly of all it has let me see parts of this world I've always wanted to see. I left home with no expectations but to see a country or two, all the amazing people I've met and memories I've made are just a bonus as far as I'm concerned.

And what a bonus it has been.

With all that being said it's Java time, and no I don't mean coffee. Jogjakarta is my next stop located on the island of Java- the most populated island on Earth. Sounds a bit crowded when I put it that way!

Hello Mister!

Every country has their catch phrase, not sure if anyone puts theirs to use as much as Indonesia though, probably not even close.

I`m 3 weeks and a few hundred thousand 'Hello Misters' into this trip, and to be honest it hasn't been the easiest  country to navigate with a depleted ambition to travel. Distances are huge and boats can only go so fast, not as easy as hopping on a last minute train like in India that's for sure. I skipped most of Bali and Lombok because of the shear amount of high season tourists and made my East to the jungle clad island of Flores. Two ferries, two buses, and 27 hours was the bill at the end of the journey, a common scenario when you're too cheap to fly in this country from what I gather.

Komodo Dragon spotting is the real tourist draw to this region, so after ticking that off the tourist check list I did some R&R time in the port town of Labuan Bajo. Cheap seafood and new found friends kept me busy, that as well as trying to wrap my head around the non existent public transportion system here. I chose Bajawa as my next stop, a town near the base of a cartoon-like Volcano that's scattered with traditional Ngada villages in it's surrounding hills. I visited the most popular one -Bena, but the real highlight was the motorcycle trip there. Asking for directions in my sorry excuse for Indonesian to red mouthed women chewing Betel Nut was quite entertaining, and aside from the insinuating vibe for you to purchase random things while roaming around the village, Bena was a great experience.

I am still missing India very much, just about every single thing about it. Getting from point A to point B was a piece of cake compared to here. As for the lack of English, the only person to blame for that would be myself. I was aware that English was borderline non existent when you leave the tourist centres here in Indonesia, and Bahasa Indonesian isn't exactly the hardest language to learn. But I'm slooooooowly grasping some key phrases.

From here it`s on to the island of Sumba, probably one of the more isolated and poorest of the islands in Indonesia. What brings me here you may ask? From what I've read it has beautiful deserted beaches and villagers who practice some pretty interesting religious ceremonies. Funerals are a big deal in it's villages; the importance and wealth of said person's funeral is directly proportional to the amount of buffalo and pigs that will be sacrificed. I get a bit squeezy at the sight of even a small cut let alone a 1000 pound water buffalo being hacked to bits, but it's all part of the experience I guess...that's if I'm lucky enough to track one these events down that is!

Other than that I'm basically just throwing darts at a map. I could pick anywhere as my next destination in this sprawling archipelago, but I'm starting to like testing just how far off the beaten track I can go by myself. Sumba has an airport with direct flights to Bali, so an escape route is within easy reach if things get too difficult!



Finding things to photograph was a bit hard as first, or perhaps I'm just spoiled from the 5 month smorgasbord of photo ops in India. Here's a few shots of Lombok, the village of Bena, and the port town of Labuan Bajo. I was told the rooster in the pic was a pretty big deal in the cock fighting world; I met the large beast at a bus station in Lombok. He was being treated like a king by his owners right beside food stalls that were deep frying his cousins!

5 Whole Months - Goes By In a Blink.

When I first looked at the expiration date on my visa stamp, I shuttered to think that I might be away from the comforts of my own home for that long. 3 months tops I thought. Fast forward five and here I am, at a cross roads with infinite choices and an endless supply of freedom at my disposal.  I can actually visualize that very fast forward too, it plays out like a reel of film in my mind. I see images of places and of people; that is what traveling boils down to after all, the places you've visited and the people you've met. It's memory overload when I think of this past 5 months in India, so many damn memories of places and people that they're fighting for first place in line. Each one wants to give me that wave of euphoria, that rush of excitement and joy that occurs when you recall that very moment and how it made you feel.

I had a rough plan of going to Nepal after India to continue my Himalayan adventures for a few weeks, but it's as if my internal weather alarm is beeping, signalling it's need for Vitamin D and ocean breezes. For the past 31 years every July has been spent on the coast; my body knows nothing else but sunshine, beaches and bike rides this time of year. I know the whole point of traveling is to experience new things -out of the norm adventures that you can't get back home. But dammit I miss the ocean.


Home is a possibility; one more unforgettable summer spent camping, riding my bike, and lounging on restaurant patios with friends I love. Definitely a great choice indeed. But the fact of the matter is that I'm already in Asia, I have no current grown up obligations at home, and I'm not getting any younger. Add to that I don't even think I'm ready to go home yet, it's like the tables have turned and traveling is now easy, going home is what brings anxiety now.

I've decided to extend my journey to the archipelago of Indonesia. I've done the pros and cons of this decision, and as I listed the cons I realized that they don't really exist in my mind. More so they'd exist in the minds of others who'd think a 31 year old should be doing something a little more productive with his life than bumming around Asia with a backpack. But I don't think there's anything wrong with it, and that's all what really matters at this point.

India has left me mesmerised. From the Southern beaches of Kerala to the peaks of the Himalayas, it has everything you could ask for in a destination and some things, that if were jotted down on paper, you wouldn't wish for in your wildest dreams; that is until you come here and give this place a chance. It's hot, filthy at times, loud all the time, and the touts and beggars are relentless. My patience and sanity were tested almost daily, but whenever I went to sleep and pondered the days events I'd just laugh at how trivial the situation was in hindsight. We never went to bed angry at each other -the key to a long lasting relationship. I love everything about it here, including the stuff that at times drove me mad. To take away anything from the Indian experience-good or bad-would just make India less.....Indian.

It was love at first Rickshaw dispute I guess you could say. I know I'll return here in the future, and until that day arrives India will forever be in my day dreams.



A few shots of my time spent in Kolkata, a place that grew on me by the hour. A sprawling city that can get downright nasty during monsoon, and when I arrived it was just that- a torrential downpour causing some pretty grimy flooded streets. The blistering sun did eventually break through the clouds leaving me begging for rain again, but with sight seeing friendly weather at hand I immediately saw the beauty of this 'old school' city. Derelict buildings, human powered rickshaws, old taxi cabs and an antique metro system -India on Vinyl!

Farewell Ladakh.

There's 8 days left on my visa, and as each day ticks away so does a bit of my motivation and energy to keep on cramming activities into my remaining time in this country. There was no shortages of activities in Ladakh and Manali, but my time spent in these places was mostly of the 'take note for next time' variety. Weather played spoiler for a good chunk of the time, but there's definitely worse places to kill a rainy day than a cafe in picturesque Leh.

Not a spec of doubt exists in my mind about returning to Ladakh. I'll come back prepared with more time and better motorcycle skills, because it is in fact the roads that snake through these mountains that I will really remember Ladakh for. The highest and seemingly most dangerous roads on the planet are here, and they're readily available to anyone wanting to challenge them. I challenged only one of dozens, and looking back at that 2 day motorcycle trip to Pangong Lake gives me butterflies.

Words and pictures can only do justice to an extent, to experience Leh you just need to come here, and come here by road if you can. It's the Wild Wild North and every piece of the puzzle for you to do what you've always dreamt of doing is right at your finger tips. From trekking, climbing, rafting, cycling, and motorbiking -it's all here and no one will say you can't do something.

It's this sense of adventure in the air, the beauty of the landscape, and friendliness of the Ladahki people that really did it for me.

It turns out I unknowingly saved the best for last.

Farewell Ladakh, until next time.



Few shots of Leh and Manali. I wasn't up for anything adventurous upon arriving in Manali from Leh; I was completely drained and pretty much spent a whole week 'getting back to my roots' so to speak. By that I mean drinking the night away with friends and spending hungover days in laid back restaurants - just like I do back home on my days off!