“How was your trip, Jon?”

Exactly one year ago, a little after 1am E.T. on May 19, 2015, I boarded a plane for Australia, which was the first stop on my world tour.

Here we are, a year later, and I still haven’t really opened up about it. Since I got home from my adventure in September, I’ve been asked “how was your trip?” a number of times and in a number of venues, but how am I supposed to answer?

How do you boil 128 days of world travel down to a tidy conversation?

Does anyone really want to know how it was, or what it was like? Or is it kind of like when you ask a cashier how their day is going? You do it for the pleasantry, but you might not want to hear what they actually have to say.

I suppose now, a year later, that it’s finally time to share my adventure. Even at a recent dinner with my family, my sister pointed out how little I discuss it. And it’s not that I’m hiding anything, or that my trip was bad, or good, or anything in particular; it was all of the things.

—-

A few days before I left for Australia I was shooting hoops in a park with my fraternity brother, Danny. He asked me about why I wanted to go on the trip, what I was running from and what I was hoping to find. Ultimately, he said something along the lines of,

“everything you think you’re going to find out there is already within you, if you just look for it”.

That stuck with me for a while and proved to be prophetic.

So, what is the origin story of this free round-the-world ticket?

I like to think of free as a relative term. I accumulated the 180,000 miles on Delta through five years of business travel, through which I was fortunate enough to keep the miles, instead of cede them to my employers. In September of 2014, after I realized that I wasn’t getting a promotion at my job any time soon, I decided it was time to go. Around that time, it was announced that Delta was canceling their round-the-world award ticket as of January 1, 2015. Anyone who booked before that could use the trip in 2015, but otherwise my dream trip would be impossible.

Sure enough, it happened.

—-

The itinerary.

The stipulations of the ticket dictated that I could visit six locations anywhere in the world and had to travel in the same direction the whole time (i.e. continuously east or west). Right of the bat I knew that I wanted to go to Australia, South Africa, Europe and Argentina. Needing to pick two more locations I figured that, in order to abide by their rules, I should focus on two destinations between Australia and South Africa. I debated between SE Asia, Russia, India, Turkey and a few others, but ultimately decided on SE Asia and India. Why did I pick those? The reason for SE Asia was mainly because BBergman told me it was dope. I went to Korea in 2014 and liked it well enough, so I figured that I’d explore the region more. The reason for India was because, well, someone else was paying for it. I figured it was an important place for me to go, but necessarily one I would proactively visit on my own dollar. And so it was settled.

Ultimately, the itinerary looked like this, some of which was made possible through one-off flights I paid for out of pocket.

1) Australia

(Sydney > Cairns > Melbourne)

2) SE Asia 

Vietnam (Ho Chi Minh City > Hoi An > Hanoi), Cambodia (Siem Reap), Thailand (Trat > Bangkok)

3) India

(Mumbai)

4) South Africa

(Port Elizabeth > Cape Town)

5) Europe

(Vienna > Munich > Ljubljana > Budapest > Krakow > Prague > Berlin > Amsterdam > Brussels > Paris)

6) Argentina

(Buenos Aires > Cordoba > Mendoza)

Basically, my goal of experiencing every continent before age 30 would come true, save for Antarctica. I’ve still got 11 months to figure that one out.

And in case you were wondering “how do you pack for 4 months and all those different climates?” Here’s how.

That’s everything I took with me. Thankfully I didn’t lose anything along the way, except a water bottle. Maybe I’ll make a footnote with an itemized list.

 

My Most Memorable Experiences

Snorkeling in the Great Barrier Reef

I’ve always loved the ocean, but I’ve never been in deep water like this before. As I slid off the back of the boat in my googles, snorkel, life jacket and flippers, I immediately began to panic. With all the gear I had on, nothing felt normal. As the waves pushed me around, and I struggled to acclimate to my flippers, I could barely stand to dip my head underwater to get a look at the reef. In the months leading up to my trip, I had began meditating, through which I had practiced deep breathing through my nose to relax. Unfortunately, that’s not an option with a mask on. It was so hard for me to trust the snorkel. I was sure that water was going to spill into my tube and that I would inhale a lung-full of ocean. Growing up with asthma, there are few things that I love more than breathing. I needed to get myself under control.

As I forced myself into increasingly longer looks at the Reef, I was tranquilized by its beauty. The colors of the coral and other wildlife made me feel like I had been transported into a Discovery Channel show. My breathing steadied. In fact, the sound of my breath was the only thing I could hear and soon I was in a trance-like state, floating through the south Pacific Ocean and filling my eyeballs with the most surreal landscape I had ever seen. For maybe the first time in my life, my brain was completely quiet. No self-talk. No reminders. No nothing. After minutes (or an hour?) like this, it occurred to me that maybe I was in heaven. I’m not a particularly religious person, but, hey, you never know. I had never felt like this before. I decided to clear my snorkel as instructed and lift my head out of the water. Yep, there was boat. This was real life. In that moment I thought about a famous commencement speech from David Foster Wallace. I thought to myself “this is water” and ducked my head back under. This was the peacefulness, the letting-go-ness that I was looking for. This feeling is what I was seeking on my trip.

I wish I had more pictures from the Reef, but intuitively I knew that renting an underwater camera for $50 wasn’t going to increase my enjoyment. I didn’t want to take anything away from that experience – souvenirs or pictures. I just wanted to be there.

 

Hiking Table Mountain in Cape Town

I could take a thousand pictures of Table Mountain and I don’t think I would ever get over it’s beauty. Scratch that, I think I did take a thousand pictures of Table Mountain, and I still want to go back and take more.

My experience with the mountain is a classic case of too-much-to-do-and-not-enough-time. On the day we decided to hike it, it was beautiful down at city level, but cloudy on the mountain. Little did we know how foolish of a decision it was to hike that day, but it was really the only day we could do it, so…

We decided to take the long way up, which meant about a four hour hike up. The trail wrapped around the back of the mountain and our plan was to take the longer, more scenic way up and then come down on the cable car. We knew there was a chance the cable car would be closed due to weather, but we’d seen it run on other cloudy days, so we figured we were okay. We packed enough food and water to get to the top, figuring we could get a snack, go to the bathroom and warm up at the top.

It was all fun and games and beautiful for the first couple hours, but as the hike turned steeper, the wind became increasingly scary and the temperatures were much much colder on the top of the mountain. I was “warm enough” at the base of the hill in jeans, a long sleeve shirt and a jacket, but by the time we got closer to the top, I was freezing.

As we would find out later, and as you can see in the next video, the winds at the summit were sustained at about 50+ MPH. We fought these for the last two hours of our ascent. Visibility was low.

The views were absolutely spectacular…

…but we were in trouble because the wind and visibility caused the cable cars and mountain-top restaurant to be closed. Basically, there was no quick way down and nowhere to get warm. At this point I became scared. Even though I’m smiling in the picture below, my hands were so numb that I needed help tucking my fingers into my pockets. That’s how cold they were and how little control I had over them.

The island you can see in the distance, Robben Island, is where Nelson Mandela was held for 18 years of his imprisonment. It’s like the Alcatraz of South Africa.

The quickest way down was to climb straight down for about 90 minutes via the path below. It was essentially a rock staircase, but a tricky one thanks to the winds, which kept trying to knock us off balance. To make matters worse, my numb hands were in my pockets, so I couldn’t use them to steady myself. At one point, I took a misstep, lost my balance and yanked my hands out to catch myself. I cut my palm on a random bit or barbed wire, so then my hand was bleeding too. Awesome.

In the end, we made it down okay. Exhausted, our wobbly legs carried us back to our hostels, with a new respect for nature and how scary its beauty can be.

 

Auschwitz

Auschwitz wasn’t fun, but it was maybe the most personally impactful thing I did on my trip. Spending time there and then reflecting on my visit shook me in so many ways. If you really want to read my thoughts about Auschwitz, read this. It’s probably the most emotional post I wrote during my trip… or maybe the most emotional post I’ve ever written?

 

India

There isn’t any specific event that stands out from my time in India, but the whole thing was fascinating. I would boil my feelings about the country down to two words: Crowded and Contrasting.

Crowded. I grew up in Columbus, Ohio, which has a population density of about 3,000 people per square mile. For reference, Boston and Chicago are about 12,000/SqMile and New York City is about 27,000/SqMile. By comparison, Mumbai has north of 60,000 people per square mile. In other words, it’s about 20 times more densely populated than my baseline. 20 times more people walking around. 20 times more people in the stores and on the roads. It’s insane. There are people everywhere. At all times. People jammed into trains. People shopping. People sleeping on the road under the shade provided by parked delivery trucks. It’s insane. And a bit unnerving. Not that I felt unsafe there, but to be constantly bombarded by the sensory input is exhausting.

Contrasting. On a daily basis I would see contrasting things that amazed me. For example, really nice buildings next to run down buildings in various states of repair. Or, a street with nice cars and nice housing with a random lot full of trash. Or, a beautiful complex of high rise buildings that look out over the most primitive and dirty of slums. Or, a very modern “main street” area full of Western stores with a stray cow walking around outside. Or, a beautifully manicured government building that stands just a few hundred feet from a creek filled with oil-black water that is polluted beyond recognition… and running into the Indian Ocean.

If I had to pick a third word, it would be Culinary. As in, the food was delicious. And cheap. Sometimes less than $1 USD cheap. Vada Pav. Dosas. Aloo saag. GET IN MY BELLLLLY!

 

Prague Pride Festival and shenanigans

I met up with two British girls at my hostel and we were trying to find something fun to do. One of them mentioned the Pride festival, which was held in a park overlooking downtown. Why not?

It was a beautiful day and there were lots of food/drink options. The DJ kept things interesting too. After a while, because it was so hot, they pulled a fire truck up and sprayed the crowd with water. It was quite the spectacle (see above).

The funniest part of the day was when the three of us started asking about each other. “How old are you?” they asked. I made them guess. “23 or 24” they ventured. They were quite surprised when I told them I was 28.

In turn, I asked them their ages. I was equally surprised to learn they were 19.

And suddenly I felt like a creepy old guy.

Minor details aside, I do have a theory: Europeans, generally, seem 4 years older than their American counterparts. For instance, if I meet a 21 year old from Europe, in my brain I will equate them to a 25 year old American. I think there’s something about how Europeans grow up that makes them seem older or more mature. Maybe because they have more exposure to different cultures? Maybe because European attitudes are different? I don’t know. But, I do know that a 21 year old European is a vastly different creature than a 21 year old American.

Afterwards, we walked around town and drank beer with our feet dangling over the river. Later that night, we went to an underground club and danced until late into the night. With the trains closed and no way to call a cab, we walked probably 3 miles back to our hostel and got some late night grub along the way.

 

Motorbike Food Tour in Vietnam

A few friends suggested I do this and it was amazing. If you’re ever in Ho Chi Minh, look up “Back of the Bike tours”. Motorbike is the preferred means of transportation in Vietnam and the swarm of engines on the streets is a constant presence. I had never been on a motorbike before, besides maybe around the block on a go-ped, so I was pretty terrified at the idea. My guide being about half my size didn’t really make me feel any better. But, after a few beers at the meeting point, I was treated to five courses, in five different parts of town, that were absolutely delicious. I felt so alive weaving in and out of traffic and watching the neon city lights go by. Also, it was awesome to have the local guides to talk to. I think that the best way to get to know a place is to get to know its people.

Related: At one of the stops, I was standing around listening to a demonstration and, God as my witness, a cockroach crawled up my shoe, over my pants and onto my shirt. By the time I realized what was happening, I swatted that thing and freaked out so hard that the group must have thought I was insane. If you thought cockroaches crawling on the ground was bad, imagine them being able to climb up you! Man, it gave me the willies.

 

Ha Long Bay cruise and Hiking in Cat Ba Island in Vietnam

Ha Long Bay is in the northern part of Vietnam and its name roughly translates to “the bay of the descending dragon”. The legend goes something like this: the Vietnamese were under attack and a large group of enemy ships were in the Bay. Then, a dragon came down from the sky to defend them and kill their enemies. As the dragon thrashed around, its body cut through the stone, leaving behind the unique rock formations that now exist.

Besides the scenery, the best part was the company. It was a group of 12 French students and me on the boat. I’ve heard a lot about French people and how they supposedly don’t like Americans, but this group painted a different picture for me. From their perspective, they hypothesized that most French people are “meh” toward Americans because they feel insecure about their English speaking skills. Apparently it is widely known in Europe that the French have the worst English education program, so they are reluctant to speak it. Who knows if any of this is true, but 12 students told me it, so I bought in.

One feature of the Ha Long Bay trip was the stop at Cat Ba island, which is the largest island in the Bay. My favorite thing we did there was to climb Ngu Lam Peak. I can’t remember the height, but it was about a 90 minute vertical hike… in 90 degree / 90% humidity weather.

But, man, was the view worth it.

The disappointing thing about Ha Long Bay, and other parts of my Asian adventure, is the exploitation. There are so many boats, so much trash in the water, and, seemingly, so few people doing anything to protect the natural resource.

But, hey, the locals know that it’s one of their best chances to make money and move up in the world, so…

 

Drinking by the Seine in Paris

My expectations for Paris were very low, but I wanted to see what all the hype was about. I was expecting it to be a very expensive place with very unwelcoming people. In reality, I loved it. Especially my first night, where I met a friend-of-a-friend who had been living there for a few years. We got some beer and dangled our feet over the river and talked and drank and compared notes on travel. It was sublime. When it started to rain, we walked a few miles to a late-night expat bar and got burgers. It was one of those rare instances where I felt like I made a new lifetime friend in the span of a few hours.

 

Biking from vineyard to vineyard in Mendoza, Argentina

Take a bus to the outskirts of town. Rent a bike. Ride to vineyards. Drink wine. Ride to another vineyard. Drink some more wine. Try not to fall off your bike as you ogle the Andes.

For added fun, mix and match random people you meet along the way.

What more can I say?

 

Living like a king for $23/day and drinking sugar cane juice with locals in Hoi An, Vietnam

If you’re keeping score at home, this is my third mention of Vietnam.

In one of my favorite days on the trip, I rented a bike, rode it out to the beach, got lunch served to me on the beach, rode back, got dinner, drank local beer and paid for my lodging. The cost? 23 dollars total or, in Vietnamese currency, about 500,000 Dong.

As I stopped to take the picture of the rice field (below) on  my way back to town, I finally realized what Tim Ferriss was talking about. In The 4 Hour Work Week, he talks about the concept of geoarbitrage, or earning money in one currency and spending it in another, “cheaper” currency. For a few days after this, I gave serious thought to living in Hoi An during the football offseason and making money online.

Walking around Hoi An, it became abundantly clear which restaurants were for tourists and which were for locals. As I came to understand it, if a place had table cloths, good lighting and English language menus, it was for tourists. Hell, even the hangout areas were different for locals and tourists. Again, the worse the lighting, the more likely that locals were hanging out there.

One night at dinner I made friends with my server. As I paid for my meal, she asked me if I would meet her and her friends for sugar cane juice by the river. We could barely communicate, but apparently I made enough of an impression on her. I met her back at the restaurant when her shift was over and she drove me on her motorbike to the hangout. She was my age, but her friends were at least five years younger. They thought their friend (the one who invited me) and I should date. I guess she was “too old” to be single in their culture and I somehow offered an unusual escape from that. We drank juice and tried our best to communicate using a mixture of Google Translate and hand gestures. It was hopeless and delightful at the same time. A few of their friends came over to meet me. For as many tourists as they meet through their jobs, I got the sense it was incredibly rare for one to hang out on their turf. I cracked through the cultural barrier and felt like I actually got to know them.

I floated back to my hostel. This encounter made me so happy.

 

Falling in love with Sydney

All my favorite cities blend an urban landscape with natural beauty… but I’m not sure any place does it like Sydney. There’s just something about the way the sunshine comes over the Harbor Bridge, bounces off the Opera House and lights up the city.

Quote inside the Opera House.

A funny thing about Sydney is that I thought the weather was great, even in “winter”. It was in the 60s and I was walking around in shorts and a t-shirt, while the locals were in jackets and scarves. What’s that Bill Bowerman quote? “There’s no such thing as bad weather, just soft people.”

 

Munich, when a bar randomly broke into “Don’t look back in anger”

Following the noise to a local club, I’m inside for a bit when I realize that I have no good way to talk to anyone in the bar. A German guy comes up to me with what appears to be an e-cigarette and I shake my head no. A few minutes later, I see a number of people around me get out their e-cigarette-looking-things and a song by Oasis comes over the speakers. All the sudden, these things get lit up and I realize they’re sparklers. The bar, which had been playing European electronic music, suddenly turns into an impromptu Oasis sing-along.

Slip inside the eye of your mind
Don’t you know you might find
A better place to play
You said that you’d never been
But all the things that you’ve seen
Will slowly fade away

The song ends. The sparklers fizzle out. The electronic music goes back on. And everyone acts like this was completely normal. Weird. And awesome!

Watching the sunrise from the Citadella in Budapest

Before the hostel cleared out for the night, the party planner challenged everyone to meet him at the Citadella at the end of the night to watch the sun come up.

We went on a pub crawl that night through the “ruin bars” which are basically reclaimed buildings that have fallen apart to some degree. I wish I could tell you more details, but…drinks.

After the bars closed, I got Subway (Hungarians want to eat fresh too, duh) and made friends with the revolving door of patrons. Eventually, I got kicked out because they were closing. I went back to the hostel to charge my phone and meet up with anyone else who wanted to go watch the sunrise. Ultimately, I was the only one who made it. Pace yourselves, people!

As I waited for the sun, I made up my own version of the George Ezra song.

“Sunrise in Budapest / my hidden treasure chest…”

 

The park in Prague where I made my peace

I read a lot on my trip and one of the most impactful books was called You Can Heal Your Life. There’s a part of the book where it suggests you find forgiveness for all the people who have hurt you. I dragged my feet on this task for weeks. Finally, one day in Prague, I sat in this park for hours and made my peace with everyone. I wrote and wrote and wrote until I had forgiven everyone.

This was on the heels of my trip to Auschwitz, where I learned about the Holocaust survivors who would return to the concentration camp every year. They had found a place in their hearts to forgive. Why shouldn’t I do the same?

 

Earthquake in Santiago

Since 1900, these are the biggest earthquakes on record.

While I was in the Santiago airport, in line to board my return flight to the U.S., I experienced my first ever earthquake, which was of 8.3 magnitude and lasted for two minutes. Although it didn’t make the chart above, you can see that it came pretty close to being one of the biggest quakes in recorded history.

I had absolutely no idea what was going on. At first I thought the shake was from lightning. Then I thought maybe the building was collapsing. Then I realized it was an earthquake. The light fixtures were waving. Bottles of wine were smashing on the floor. It was nuts.

I kept thinking “I made it safely all the way around the world only to get rocked by an earthquake on the day I fly home? This can’t be real.” But it was.

The flight ended up being delayed so they could inspect the runway for cracks, but ultimately I made it out.

Notable nightlife:

Matrix in Berlin. Praterdome in Vienna. Partied at both until the sun came up.

 

Other Favorite Photos

Lake Bled, Slovenia

This is the home of the castle on the island, which you can see in the middle.

Berlin, Germany

The Berlin Wall, which for 28 years prevented people from seeking a better life for themselves and their families.

The Louvre Museum in Paris

Hey, girl, do you hang out here often?  😉

Driving toward the Andes Mountains in Argentina

Angkor Wat, Cambodia

 

Lessons Learned  (Sig, this one’s for you)

Follow your compass

When you’re on the road, there are a million things to do and a hundred people to do them with. Basically, everyone has an agenda, everyone is trying to sell you something and everyone is doing “the coolest thing”. But, what if that thing doesn’t interest you? How do you decide between the “should do” thing and what you think would be interesting? Simple. Follow your compass.

When I was in Vietnam (people tease me about using this phrase all the time, saying that I sound like I was in the war) I went to the war remnants museum, which was incredibly powerful.

Then, the next day when people were trying to get me to go to the Cu Chi tunnels – the underground tunnels used during the war – I was like, “nah, I’m kinda over looking at war stuff”. They couldn’t believe that I would travel all the way to Vietnam and NOT go to the tunnels?!

Eff ’em.

I learned that day that this trip is about me, and that this life is about me. There are going to be things that I think, things that I want to do and things that I want to experience that don’t mesh with the popular wisdom. At the end of the day, what’s important is that I trust my intuition, follow my compass, and do what’s right for me… on both my trip and in my life.

 

We’ve already won the lottery

Have you every played the lottery? Maybe a scratch off ticket or a powerball drawing? You think, “man, if I won the lottery, my life would be totally changed!”

What if I told you that we’ve already won the lottery?

If you’re reading this on your phone, or at your job, and you live in North America or Europe, you have most likely already won the lottery. Not the one you’re thinking of, but the genetic lottery. You were born into opportunity that people in Asia and South America would kill for.

In Vietnam, India and Argentina, I met locals in their late-teens or early-twenties who would approach me and ask if I was from America. They would ask me about my life, where I was from, what my job was, and so on.

Vietnamese students practice their English with tourists in the park.

When the conversation turned to them, I would ask them about their life and their schooling and their ambitions. In each of these countries, particularly in Vietnam, I encountered young people whose life mission was to move to America, or attend an American university, or travel to America to meet celebrities (since apparently we have a lot of famous people). Their goals were something that I rolled out of bed and had access to. How is that fair?

It’s not.

It just is… and I can choose to acknowledge it and be grateful or not.

Anyways, I always knew that I was a pretty lucky guy, but this trip opened my eyes to a world of suffering and poverty that I always knew existed, but couldn’t ever fathom until I experienced it. I have a greater appreciation than ever for how fortunate I am.

 

Happiness only real when shared

Maybe this is a case of life imitating art, but for a long time one of my favorites stories/books/movies was Into The Wild. Near the end of the movie there is a scene where the main character scribbles a note that says “Happiness only real when shared”. By the end of my trip, I understood what that meant.

For as amazing as the trip was, I realized that these memories are largely my own. With a few exceptions, I won’t be able to recount any of these moments with my family and friends. “Hey, Brad, remember that time we walked around the Louvre together for hours and looked at the masterpieces of the art world?” Oh wait, just kidding. You weren’t there. “Hey, Jason, remember that time we rode an 18 hour train through Vietnam?” Oops, nevermind. You weren’t there.

I’ve always been a bit of a lone wolf… and I recognize that it would have been nearly impossible for anyone to join me for the entirety of my trip… but I wish I could have had more company for this trip. Or, put another way, I’m very thankful for the memories that I was able to share with Steve and Cassie and John and Becca and Cori and Mom & Don and Eric and Soly and Kara. Even if only for a day or two, the time we spent together was amazing and I’m so grateful for it.

From here on out, I want to have shared experiences more than anything.

 

The world isn’t a scary place

Besides “how was your trip” the other thing people want to know about is how dangerous it was.

Ummm… it was perfectly safe?

Or, put another way, it was no more dangerous than any trip you could take in America.

Before I left, I would tell people that I was going to South Africa and they would say something like, “I heard that Cape Town and Johannesburg are some of the most dangerous places in the world. Be careful. Don’t get murdered!” To which I would reply by informing them that Chicago and Detroit are similarly dangerous as any of those cities, but you don’t ever tell a friend going to Chicago “don’t get murdered.”

In fact, I had one of the most wonderful encounters in South Africa…

By the way, it’s hilarious to me how when you mention South Africa to someone in the U.S. they almost always bring up apartheid. However, if you look at the timeline of things, the same segregationist things that were happening in South Africa were also happening in America in the 1950s and 1960s, but, in my opinion, we (Americans) are much less self-aware about the need for a unified future than South Africans are. But, I digress…

My wonderful encounter in S.A. began with a conversation with a hostel attendant in Melbourne, Australia, who is a native South African. She said her parents had a ranch near Port Elizabeth, so I got their email and went to stay with them. Turns out, their property was about 50 miles worth of dirt-road driving off any main road. They had a plot of land that was about 2 miles by 15 miles and had all sorts of wildlife like zebras, giraffe, wildebeest and more. I got to tour their property and go on a hike and they cooked dinner for me. Complete strangers!

I drove 50+ miles on dirt roads to get to their property… on the left side of the road and with the steering wheel on the right side of the vehicle.

 

During the hike, the woman who hosted me (maybe about 60 years old) kept having to stop to catch her breath. She was in decent enough shape, but the breaks quickly became a source of mental stress for me. If she collapsed out here, that would be really bad. It would be a 30 minute hike back down to the cart, a 15 minute drive back to the house and an hour drive to a doctor. Thankfully, everything was okay… but it was funny how much this incident was playing through my head a week later on Table Mountain, as described above.

Ancient tribal people painted these figures with a blood-based paint. This was the reason we hiked where we did and took the 15 minute cart right out to this spot.

Sure, this might be an unusual case, but after the repeated examples of abundant hospitality that I was shown, I tend to believe that the world is good and people are friendly, if you open yourself to that possibility. For the most part, I think people are just trying to make money, find community, eat well and enjoy life… no matter where you go.

 

We are all in this thing together

I don’t know how else to say it: we’re all interconnected.

Whether we realize it…

…whether we want to acknowledge it…

…we’re all in this thing together.

When American companies move factories to China because the wages and the environmental standards are lower, the smog from their plants creates acid rain in South Korea.

When impoverished people in India collect empty plastic bottles and melt them down to make pallets (because that’s one of the few ways they can make money), the byproducts of that process pollute the streams of the slum, which flow into our global ocean system.

The longer we drag out this “us versus them” game, the worse off everyone is.

Forget one nation under God, we are one people on this tiny blue dot floating through the universe and all we have is each other, for better or worse.

 

If I could go back to any of the places I visited tomorrow, where would I go?

1. Vietnam – it’s an ambush on the senses, but a fun one. If you don’t laugh about the insanity, you’ll cry about it. Definitely not for everyone.
2. South Africa – this country has everything: mountains, beaches, wildlife, vineyards culture, and just about anything else you can imagine.
3. Paris – I could spend a week in the Louvre, nevermind the dozens of beautiful parks, museums, historical sites, etc. in the area. And, honestly, I didn’t even scratch the surface on the nightlife.
4. Budapest – Being on a nighttime river cruise, floating past these gorgeous and varied buildings, it’s hard to imagine any city being more stunning (except maybe Paris). Oh, and the thermal spas… and the relative low cost of living. I want to go there for my honeymoon.
5. Prague – I was in a weird place, mentally, when I was in Prague, so I feel like I half-assed this wondrous city. I want another crack.
6. Amsterdam – This place is so much more than the Red Light District and the “coffee shops”. The biking and boating cultures are amazing and the people are so friendly. Plus, stroopwafel!!!
7. Vienna – Such friendly people. So much to see and do.

 

Questions from the peanut gallery

Favorite day: Too hard to choose.

Worst day/biggest culture shock: After spending time in Siem Reap, Cambodia, which is a massive tourist trap with their famous temples and all, I really wanted to get to “authentic Asia”. I could have gone straight to Bangkok, but I needed something more relaxed. I took a bus to Trat, Thailand because one of my former coworkers had talked about it. I wasn’t ready for “authentic Asia”. I couldn’t read any of the signs. I had no idea where to get food. Google translate was useless because they don’t use a Western alphabet. They had a fraction of the tourist conveniences I was used to elsewhere in Asia. Rainy season was starting. It rained for three days. I laid in bed in my hostel and got back on Twitter for the first time in two months. I needed something familiar.

Most interesting person: I met a seemingly mythical woman in Cairns. She was staying at the same hostel. She was Swiss, blonde and fluent in at least four languages. We sat around with a handful of people and talked for about six hours one night. She was traveling with her aunt. She smoked cigarettes and I didn’t even care (and I always care / hate it). I couldn’t say her name right, with the European accent and all, but she laughed every time I tried. Nothing happened.

Did it alter my life: Yes.

 

While in Argentina, the plan was to drive from Mendoza over the Andes Mountains to Santiago, Chile, where I would catch my return flight home. I met a guy from Vermont in the hostel, who had a car. He offered to drive me and a young German guy to Santiago. During the drive, the German guy really opened up about his country’s history, including World War II, how they learned about it in school, how his peers felt about it, and the optimism he had for Germany’s future. Even when I was in Germany, I couldn’t really bring myself to ask any natives about the Holocaust. This conversation covered it all and was tremendously powerful. It was really interesting to hear how a great country like Germany can be in such a precarious position of having a great country but not knowing how precisely to express national pride.

Honorable mention: Sitting on a hostel patio in Australia, I listened to an Irish woman, a guy from York (England) and a gal from Liverpool (England) discuss the gypsy community in the U.K. While the content of the conversation was hilarious, I was equally amused by how three people from a pretty small corner of the universe could speak so differently. They were all speaking English, but I could understand only about half of what was being said.

 

It was refreshing, for sure, but when I got home in September I felt like I had no idea what was going on for a couple weeks. It was weird.

Also, there were some players, one in particular, that I used to hardcore represent that other analysts had now become the flag-carrier for. And that’s fine, but I was like “umm, hi, remember me?”

Related: see my answer above about worst day/culture shock.

 

Honestly, I didn’t partake in either. Knowing that I was by myself, I didn’t want to let my guard down and take any substances that would hinder my ability to get home safely. As far as prostitutes, I try to not give any of my money to sex workers, knowing how screwed up that global industry is…

But, I did stay near a red-light district in Bangkok called Soi Cowboy. Think: alley full of shady bars and neon signs with woman lined up out front grabbing at you. It’s like when a football player runs out of the tunnel and high fives all his teammates, except with scantily clad women who are trying to get your money.

My preferred tactic was to go get some delicious roti (see below, akin to a banana crepe that’s cut into bite-sized chunks) and then walk through the alley. I tried to make normal conversation with the women and ask them how their day was going, if they’d like a bite of the roti, etc. No takers though. They didn’t like that very much.

 

So, it’s easy to meet other travelers when you’re on the road, but hard to meet local women. I downloaded Tinder for that reason (much less salacious than you’re imagining). Ultimately, I upgraded to the pro version so I could swipe in other locations, including the place I would live when I got home, Columbus. Wouldn’t you know it? I met my current girlfriend that way.

Right swipe for the win!

 

In Southeast Asia they had a lot of bootleg football jerseys. At one point I logged onto Fanatics and shopped for real fooball jerseys, including a Corey Davis one. So, yea, I thought about him. CD84 for life!

 

This probably won’t come as a surprise, but northwest Europe has some great beer. Also, relatively speaking, the “bia hoi” (fresh beer) in Vietnam was pretty good, considering it cost about a 50 cents for a pint.

Augustiner-Keller in Munich was my favorite beer drinking experience. They have a massive beerhall and a massive courtyard that has fairground-style booths with various beers and encased meats.

 

I think I’ve covered the latter two items, but as far as food, this trip was definitely an eye opener. I don’t share this with too many people, but, I grew up with an eating disorder (part physical, part psychological) and ate a very limited variety of foods for the first ~18 years of my life. Even as a young adult, my exploration of new foods has been relatively tame. This trip was kinda my “last battle with my eating disorder”. I ate everything, including stuff that I wasn’t even sure what it was. My favorite things were the noodle soups in SE Asia, the vada pav and dosas in India, bobotie in South Africa, and pretty much everything in Europe, especially stroopwafel. I ate so much damn food on this trip, but I was walking 5+ miles every single day, so it didn’t even matter. About 2 months into my trip, despite my best efforts to eat everything I could, I was down about 20 pounds.

Related, I think my favorite food experience was the Muizenberg Food Market in Cape Town. We wandered in there – a converted mechanic’s garage – on a rainy Friday night and fell into a rabbit hole of some of the most delicious food and friendliest people I encountered on my trip.

 

My first night in Budapest, I arrived to my hostel after dark and with a dead phone. As I checked in, everyone was leaving for a party-boat river cruise. On this cruise, everyone got their own bottle of champagne. Yes, really. Because my phone was dead, I didn’t get any pictures, but it was absolutely spectacular. At the end of the cruise, they dock in a different location than where we boarded. Because I was annoyed with their racket, I just walked off the boat and wandered in the general direction i *thought* my hostel was. Ultimately, I saw another person with the same hostel-keycard-wristband as I had, so I joined up with them and asked people for directions along the way. This night would have appeared under my Favorite Memories section, if there were any pictures to show for it.

On the train to Krakow my phone died, so I had to take a similar approach. It took me about an hour to find something that should have taken me 15 minutes to get to.

I’m pretty good with directions though and usually ended up being “the directions guy” when I would go out with a group from the hostel.

 

Nailed it.

 

Coming home

I made it.

At the risk of being dramatic, I left for this trip knowing there was a non-zero chance that I wouldn’t make it home for one reason or another.

It felt so good to give my parents, sister and other family members a hug.

But, what now?

Since I got home in September, it’s been somewhat difficult for me to re-acclimate. Living back in Columbus after being gone since 2007, it’s been weird trying to reconnect with old friends. Honestly, I haven’t made much of an effort. There’s part of me that fears we’ve drifted apart. There’s part of me that thinks I’ll be pulled into old habits. I don’t know how much of that is founded, but it certainly exists in my brain.

On the bright side, I’m closer – emotionally and geographically – to my family than I’ve ever been. That’s really important to me. I think, deep down, I knew I couldn’t become the kind of family man I want to be without reconnecting with my family in a meaningful way. The last few months have been great for that.

Also, I feel really positive about the relationship I’m in. My girlfriend is really supportive of my unconventional ways. I’m optimistic about our future.

Career wise, it’s been awesome pursuing football on a freelance basis over the past few months, but I’m thinking something has to change. There are a few opportunities on the horizon and, even if I’ve taken a circuitous route, I’m confident that I will get where I’m trying to go.

So, I guess that’s it. Thanks for reading. If you have any questions, I’ll do my best to answer them. Some stuff will remain my own, though.