My final piece on intentional living – travel.
Intentional travel is something of a careful blend of fun experiences, thoughtful money-spending and mindful values during a time you’re supposed to be relaxing and enjoying a break from everyday life. Can you really stay true your way of life when you are miles from home? I have learned the hard way that it’s indeed a very delicate balance.
I set off on a year-long overland holiday last year with a plan to publicly blog about how to travel sustainably. It had been suggested to me that to travel so extensively, it was best to have some ideas about what I was looking to get out of the trip, and that turned into a quest for sustainable travel. In short, I quickly found myself questioning what’s possible and how much value I’m bringing to myself and my destinations when I can’t get the balance right. Continue reading
So here we are. Three years after I last blogged regularly and about seven years since I first started writing them. I had grand plans to write again this year, but I’d fallen out of habit and just couldn’t focus hard enough to get the thoughts out of my head. I found too many distractions. I was on sabbatical, happily travelling the world for no reason other than to tick enough places off my list that I could throw away the travel brochures in my storage unit. Europe first, then Africa; for almost a year I was taking the first major, independent holiday of my life. I had this list of things I planned to do as I travelled; setting up a business, read many of the books in my e-book collection, write. Instead, I happily got caught up in watching tv series’ season by season, and, by the time I was sitting on an overland truck crossing Africa, I’d gotten addicted to a mindless game app. I didn’t mind too much, I mean, what else to do on a truck for six hours each day? When I tried to write, I got motion sickness. I couldn’t focus on ideas for the business, I couldn’t even get through podcasts. My mind was firmly set in enjoying Africa doing nothing in particular.
In the background was this ever-changing world. Coronavirus was spreading, first China and parts of Asia. Then Italy. Passing Zimbabwe, Zambia, Botswana, we got maybe five minutes a day of wifi if we were lucky. So, while we knew it was out there and spreading, we existed in this cosy, isolated, news-free haven of our truck and while some worried about what they read, I felt untouchable. We were fine. COVID-19 had not hit Africa, other than a case or two; we were safer than if we were at home, oddly enough.
Then one afternoon in Namibia, everything changed. Continue reading