on finding comfort in something new

In the midst of a global pandemic, I’ve come to realize how deeply intertwined my comfort zone is with the acts of eating, walking, and exploring new urban spaces. I’ve long found it a little uncomfortable to identify with “travel” as a hobby—of course, everyone loves seeing new things—but as I’ve continued to fly 22 hours across the globe twice a year to just go home, I’ve more than ever found that the process of moving is actually a great source of comfort to me. Growing up in a country different from my place of birth and having hop on a plane to visit extended family, the bi-annual migration back “home” has always been a staple in my life and, by extension, the thought of being stuck in one place, state, or country for a prolonged period of time is honestly a bit terrifying to me. With almost everything in the world on physical lockdown, this may be the first time I’ve ever been forced to stay put. Although it hasn’t been the most pleasant adjustment, this temporary way of life has allowed me to spend plenty of time scrolling through my camera roll and rediscovering beautiful memories.

I recognize that the ability to have moved around so far and so frequently as I have in my 22 years is a great privilege, and it is one that I am indescribably grateful for. Some of my happiest memories will always be those with friends and family while on adventures. It is with this in mind that I hope to share with you the places and experiences that have led me to fall so helplessly in love with moments scattered across the globe. I want this to be a journal of things I love. I hope this doesn’t evolve into just another travel blog with empty recommendations, and it would never be my intention to write so mindlessly. In part, I also hope to revisit some memories that bring me comfort in this uniquely uncomfortable period of time in human history, and to dream of one day immersing myself back into one of the fragments of the world I have grown to love so deeply.

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