what solo travel looks like: part four.
This is part four in a four part series, “What Solo Travel Looks Like.” After over a year away from my home country, I wanted to offer advice and a clear depiction of what solo travel was really like for me. Please read along with us and if you’d like to subscribe to my weekly newsletter, sign up at the bottom of this page. (You can read part one here, part two here, and part three here.)
what solo travel looks like: part three.
This is part three in a four part series, “What Solo Travel Looks Like.” After over a year away from my home country, I wanted to offer advice and a clear depiction of what solo travel was really like for me. Please read along with us and if you’d like to subscribe to my weekly newsletter, sign up at the bottom of this page. (You can read part one here and part two here.)
at the edge of a volcano.
It wasn't until I was sorting through photos last month at Hannah's house, lounging in the comfiest chair in her living room as the sun went down, that I remembered these pictures.
An early morning in East Java, after the world's worst Southeast Asian bus ride. (And I've seen a few.) I started off at 7AM from Yogyakarta and didn't arrive at our destination until midnight that night, a grueling ride with no air conditioning and horrific traffic. It was another hour up the windy mountain to our hotel, where we managed to get an hour and a half of sleep. We had to be up at 3 to hop in a jeep that'd take us up the mountain, slowly winding our way through sandy dunes in the dense early-morning fog. I remember being deliriously tired, feeling as if we were bumping our way along through some far-off planet terrain.
the great disorientation of returning home from the other side of the world.
I’ve been home for two months now and I still sometimes question if I’m driving on the correct side of the road.
The transition has been brutal, traffic rules aside.
scenes from indonesia.
I really could have broken this up into two different blog posts, Java and Bali. Two vastly different islands that felt like different countries.
Java was rugged and Muslim and authentic and dirty and noisy.
Bali was structured and beautiful and Buddhist and Hindu and touristy and green.
last days in australia.
I keep trying to write these words and I can't even begin. I write and delete, write and delete, write and delete.
I don't imagine being able to put into words my life in Australia anytime soon.
But let's just say this: My life in Australia was more lovely than I ever thought life could be.
melbourne and the great ocean road.
A few quick shots from my week-and-a-half spent exploring Melbourne and the Great Ocean Road with my dear friend Emma. Strangely, this was already over a month ago — which means it's been that long since I left my au pair job in Sydney and took to the road. (Cue tears!)