How you travel at 30 plus is a matter of circumstance.

“Wherever you go, go with all your heart.” – Confucius.


If you find yourself like me; thirty years old and stagnating in some black and white town, gone lukewarm, the energy of youth expelled to the ether of the universe, your city exhausted and cyclical?

Then travel, and travel now.

Backpacking especially, amputates age as a factor from your life, your every day to day interactions are with a kaleidoscope of humankind, a complex intertwining of language, years, creeds and colours. The people you will share dormitories and tours with travel either alone or in small groups, so there is always a new friend at the end of the next beer.

Make as few plans before you leave as you possibly can, because you WILL meet new people. And when they head north to some remote waterfall or beach town for a weekend of absolute hedonism, you will be waving them off, alone once more, because you have a pre booked tour of another old Incan relic in the south to get to.

Travel light, travel cheap (that’s where you meet the most interesting people) but most of all travel.

Our years here are precious, clinging to a speck of dust hurtling through emptiness. Entombed in a cubicle, hypnotised by a screen, enslaved by another human being for a wage to pay off that shiny fucking car, “you don’t want to be an old dad” rhetoric (be a father with stories, with wisdom), save your money and live comfortably when your years and body are failing, is that a life? Would you watch that movie?

I say live a life, save only enough to leave that job, seek pleasure wherever you go, swim in all of the oceans, get drunk under all of the stars, in the blink of an eye that you are in existence EAT YOUR FUCKING CAKE!