Somewhere between here and there.

I travel with one big black duffel bag. Packed with some clothes, tent, 60L backpack, sleeping bag and panniers. I like to call it my Jason Bourne bag because it has everything I need to survive a life on the road including a zip lock bag with maps and SIM cards for different countries, which as my sister reminds me, isn't quite the same as having multiple passports. But I love my big black bag. Not because of what it contains but because of what it represents. Exploring the unknown.

These notes from the field are proof that I’m often most comfortable in uncommon places. This blog was created to document what I see and feel during my travels. Which is why I always begin to question its relevance whenever I board my return flight. “What will I write about now?” I ask myself the closer I get to the country, culture, and language I’ve known for most of my life.

My first impulse, usually felt in the middle of wicked long flight from the unknown to the known, is to stop posting on the blog. Maybe a farewell post. Which is what this post would be if it were not for an email I received from a distant friend of the family. He wrote that "although it’s difficult to clearly determine, all of us have a purpose and something to offer the rest of the world." In short, I took his inspiring email as a challenge to keep telling my story.

It would be easier to turn off the blog, to not worry about posting anymore. But I love a good story. I love to share a good story. I love to be inspired and inspire others. If this blog reaches but a few people who find some of what I write inspiring, than I am doing something I believe in. Which is really all I'm searching for during this nomadic life. Well that, and a place to live.