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I’m in disbelief that our trip is over—in such disbelief that a decent opening sentence has clearly fallen well out of reach.

Nonetheless, it’s only fitting to revisit the blog one last time. This blog is where we first shared why we took career breaks, why we wanted to take a trip like this in the first place, and what we wanted to do and learn along the way. It’s where we began exploring creativity—mine in the form of writing and Cynthia’s in the form of photography. During our year of travel, these creative outlets provided us with individual fulfillment well beyond what the trip alone could bring, and made possible shared understandings with loved ones from home. For a number of reasons, I was unable to contribute directly to the blog as much as I originally wished. Still, I cherish the stories I wrote and the incredible pictures that Cynthia—thankfully—never stopped taking. And here I’d like to end the blog the way it began: full of honesty, excitement, hope, and below-average jokes.

Looking ahead, I can’t wait, of course, for what home will mean: reconnecting with family and friends all over the country; not having a language barrier to constantly wrestle with; eating some fabulous home-cooked meals; enjoying a pillow that doesn’t feel like it’s full of packaging peanuts and a mattress that doesn’t feel like a high school wrestling mat. I’ll also be getting married to a woman and travel companion whom I truly love. In October, we’ll “officially” begin building our lives together, atop the incredibly strong foundation that’s already in place. We’re excited to celebrate, and we’re excited for our journey together to continue.

But I also can’t deny a sense of bitter sweetness to it all. The end of the trip also means saying goodbye to a group of dear friends who’ve enriched our travels, our lives, and our ideals in more ways than I could ever fully express. We’ve spent the past six months together exploring parts of India and Thailand; creatively enjoying the quirky freedoms, “zig-zag” weather, and nonexistent curfews of Berlin; and endlessly discussing and strategizing how to improve the world we live in and ourselves, as individuals, along with it. Cynthia and I will miss you dearly, and we look forward to seeing you guys again very soon.

The end of this trip also means saying goodbye to the trip itself. This may sound weird, but this trip has felt like a dependable companion, a trusted travel guide even. It took us on a journey far different from the one we originally envisioned for ourselves. It presented us with opportunities that have challenged us when we need challenging and showered us with rewards when we deserved them most. It took us outside our comfort zones, put us face-to-face with cultural diversity and, at times, took us deep into the wonders of nature. It taught us more about our individual strengths and weaknesses; it taught us more about the importance of creativity and constructive collaboration; it taught us more about limitless potential. It helped us begin to understand a world desperately in need of renewed understandings. For all these lessons, we couldn’t be more grateful.

The “S-curve”

Just before Cynthia and I began our trip, a friend and traveler introduced me to the “S-curve”. In essence, the S-curve (more accurately, a sideways, S-curve) represents, “graphically” and metaphorically, the highs and lows that long-term travelers inevitably experience on the road. “It’s vitally important that you remain open and honest about where you fall on the S-curve,” my friend urged. “Talk to each other about it—your sanity just may depend on it.”

We dutifully complied.

During the more celebrated times this year—or those in which we found ourselves in the relative lap of luxury—we always reminded ourselves to cherish those moments deeply, because, as we came to know quite well, the good times don’t always last. In contrast, during particularly harrowing times, Cynthia and I would debate just how low we found ourselves on our S-curve, and whether or not it was, in fact, the lowest point seen during the entire trip. As dire as that may sound, implied in these playful debates was the shared understanding that things would get better. And they always did. But fully embracing and acknowledging the down times helped us realize how often we take things for granted and how fortunate we are to have the lives that we do.

So, to end the blog, below are some of the highest highs and lowest lows from each of the countries we visited this past year. We hope you enjoy as much as we did (and didn’t).

Peru

High: Reaching Macchu Picchu on a cool, misty morning after 3 nights and 4 days camping and hiking while wearing packs way to big for our own good. In fact, before reaching this pre-Columbian, Incan city in the sky, we found ourselves pretty low on the curve with two aching backs. Reaching the site was highly rewarding. We did it with some great people from all over the world, and even became good friends with one couple whom we ended up sharing an apartment with two months later in Buenos Aires.

Low: The 7-hour local bus through the underdeveloped Andean roads between Arequipa and the Colca Canyon. We were the only tourists onboard amongst an overcrowded group of mountain dwellers, chickens in bowling-ball bags (probably just known locally as “chicken bags” or “bolsas de pollo”), and a goat. Along the way, the bus continued to pick up more and more mountain dwellers to the point of maximum capacity. Embarrassingly, but with much necessity, Cynthia and I shared handfuls of her recently shampooed hair to shield our nostrils from the overwhelmingly powerful (and oddly specific) odor of dusty hotdogs.

Chile

High: Torres del Paine. This national park in Chilean Patagonia had the most pristine natural beauty we have ever seen. We got glimpses of the massive Patagonian ice cap from a cliff high above Glacier Grey; we camped and hiked for 5 days (no guides this time) and carried and cooked our own food; and we woke up at 3am to climb over an hour through a blizzard to catch the first rays of sun on one of the park’s more infamous massifs. The blizzard was stubborn and no glimpse was caught, but we did enjoy our time waiting by sipping our hot coffee and sitting on boiling hot water bottles to stay warm:

This 50-mile Torres del Paine “W” trek was one of the best times of the entire trip.

Low: WWOOFING at Jasper’s. I can’t even begin to do this one justice with such limited space. This post was one of the most popular of the year, so please read the link if you have time. Suffice it to say that Jasper is “bat shit” crazy, and we were stuck on his “The Shining” style farm for a few highly unpleasant days and nights.  We arrived with the desire to stay for a week and learn about horticulture. We left on day three, resentful that we’d done nothing but pick weeds with our bare hands, clean and organize his closet, and water a few dying lemon trees (thumb-in-hose style), all under his highly manic-depressive oversight. Thankfully, we did leave before carrying out his last request: removing a dead dog from his land with a pitchfork (I swear there’s a “who-let-the-dogs-out?” / “WWOOF” joke in there somewhere, but I leave it to you to find). And after we left, Jasper harassed me over e-mail for a couple of days for drinking his last can of Coke. Bat shit crazy.

Argentina

Highs: Three-way tie between hiking in the Argentinian Patagonian city of El Chalten, a one-day bicycle wine tour in Mendoza’s Maipu Valley, and a week living with friends in an apartment in Buenos Aires. In El Chalten, we found ourselves deep in familiar Patagonia scenery—lakes of the bluest blues, massive glaciers resting in their frozen tumbles down jagged peaks, and meandering paths connecting it all. In Mendoza we found how considerate the city is of us drunken bike riders: designated curb-on-both-sides bike lanes and an end-of-day police motorcycle escort after last call from the furthest winery. Buenos Aires saw us enjoying the company and culinary skills of our international roommates who whipped up a few feasts including thin crust pizza and a “curry-off” between traditional South African and Sri Lankan-style curries. The Aussie/South African couple makes wine (for a living) and could spot a fantastic $6 bottle of Malbec from a mile away—an inspiring sight to see. As much as we can remember of it, at least.

Low: Me bed ridden with a stomach virus + staying in a dingy hostel + guy with nipple piercings who looks like Emile Hirsch in the next room + (said) guy getting really stoned, blasting Pearl Jam, playing guitar and screaming along in a broken-English-style Eddie Veter voice = lowest low in Argentina.

France

High: The bakeries, late dinners with my French family, New Year’s Eve at an all-night rave extravaganza in converted airplane hangers outside Paris. Despite the freezing temperatures, I cherished our time in Paris as it reconnected me with family whom I don’t often get a chance to see and gave the chance for them to get to know Cynthia. Oh, and we still dream about the cheese plates.

Low: Nothing. Honestly, it was perfect.

Spain

High: Churros: the funnel cake with a Latin swagger. Eating these suckers with cup of hot chocolate dipping sauce is an experience that needs to be had by all. Feasting aside, the Alambra—a Moorish Islamic temple/fortress/palace in Granada—is an amazing site to see. In Barcelona, we were treated to unexpectedly gracious hospitality from Patrice, the uncle of my cousin’s lovely girlfriend whom she was thoughtful enough to connect us with. Also, we were again swallowed whole by Gaudi’s architecturally whimsical spaces—structures that never fail to evoke wonder and amazement and succeed in bringing out the child in us all.

Low: Goodbye Churros.

Morocco

High: Nothing beat spending time with Fatima: our host for 3 days in the small university/craft town of Meknes, just outside Fes. A highly educated, former computer science professional who grew up on the island of Cyprus and spent most of her life in Paris, Fatima treated us to warm hospitality, incredible meals, invaluable advice and private walks through town, and late night conversations that better introduced us to the wonderful qualities and contradicting realities of Morocco. Fatima revealed to us the country’s undeniable charm while treating us like royalty.

Low: During our tour in Fez, I battled a serious bout of motion sickness brought on by the vocal undulations of our tour guide’s thick Arabic accent. From what I could tell, he was a very kind and informative man, but I had to miss most of his tour as I was forced to lag behind to accommodate the wrath of my inner ear (not kidding, I almost vomited every time I was near the guy). Also, in the desert town of Merzouga, we rode camels and spent the night at a camp in the middle of the Sahara. In the desert, we had looked forward to the calm silence that we’d heard so much about. But unfortunately there was a group of Europeans at a camp about a mile away who envisioned a much different experience than we had. At their luxury desert camp, blasting over loud (concert-sized) speakers, a horrendous playlist unfolded including the likes of YMCA, the Macarena, Mambo #5, and Neal Diamond’s greatest. Started at dinner, finished around 1am. The worst.  But camels are gentle beasts and the scenery alone made the trip worth it.

Tanzania

High: Four-day Safari through the Serengeti and the Ngorongoro National Park with our dear friends Matt and Sarah from home (Matt and I went to high school together and he’s married to Sarah who’s pretty awesome). Face to face with wide open grassy plains full of zebra, lions, cheetahs, leopards, water buffalo, hyenas, and rhinos, we had a thrilling time out there and, according to our guides, set all-time records for the amount of time spent standing up through our jeep’s removable roof. We also spent a day visiting a school and convent run by the Sister’s of Notre Dame (including one sister from Cleveland). We had lunch together, toured their school and local farm, and were even treated to a welcome song sung by the native African nuns of the convent. It was a beautiful experience.

Low: During our first night in Stonetown, Zanzibar (an old slave trade town on an island off mainland Tanzania and >>fun fact alert<< the birthplace of the late Queen front-man, Freddie Mercury), we were welcomed to a citywide power outage due to a tropical storm that hit the island on the day before. Thanks to generators, the music festival we attended went off without a hitch. However, our hotel that night wasn’t as well prepared, and left us with no choice but to try to sleep without AC in the sweltering African humidity. It was the roughest night sleep of the trip, and an unfortunate, daily reality for the majority of locals.  It was a valuable lesson to us to never stop appreciating all the comforts we normally have access to.

India

High: A lesson in life through a lesson in drumming, a renewed connection with an old friend (Prashant and I overlapped one year at Wake Forest), and two new friends (We met Ole and Sofi in India. They’re super cool). In Mumbai, we were welcomed in like family into the home of Penny and Assit: family friends once removed (family friends of Rana, a friend of Cynthia’s from high school. Got all that?).  Penny cooked dinners for us, took us to her country clubs, and they both treated us to a wonderful tour of the city at night. For many reasons, India holds a special place in our hearts and is a country we feel we’ll likely return to again and again.

Low: Shitting my pants a bit in a rickshaw in Varanassi.

Nepal

High: Hiking the Annapurna circuit and up to Annapurna base camp. We hiked 186 miles, over 20 days through massive glaciated peaks, reached our highest altitude of all time (~18,000 ft.), and slept in basic lodges in small Himalayan villages along the way. We also volunteered at an orphanage where we painted a LONG, multi-colored metal railing. Took 7 days, but it was a beauty.

Low: While volunteering with the Mountain Fund—an American-run NGO that brings assistance in healthcare, education and human rights to Nepal—we trekked for 10 days through Nepal’s Langtang Valley and assisted with temporary medical clinics for the surrounding villagers. As wonderful as the overall experience was, everyone in our group of 10 volunteers became sick for some portion of the trip, including one night of simultaneous vomiting for 4 of the volunteers (poor Cynthia included). Thinking his cooking was the cause, the lodge owner summoned the town’s local Buddhist lama to “release the demons” from his kitchen and blow breath on the head of one unfortunate (perhaps fortunate?) volunteer. Hopefully future guests were spared.

Thailand

High: Amazing food, modern luxuries, the best beaches, the best snorkeling, $6 one-hour massages—the superlatives mount when we talk about Thailand. But without question, the highlight of our time there was a 10-day visit from Cynthia’s Mom, Judy, and our good friend Liz (aka “Gertie”) from the U.S. We explored Bangkok together and enjoyed a few lazy days on the small southern island of Koh Toa. We also took a cooking class from this lady:

It was awesome.

Low: Another perfect one. Thailand is paradise.

Berlin, Germany

High: Our two months in Berlin were consistently great. The city’s experienced a near complete recovery from the horrors of its past and has found renewed life in welcoming artists, musicians, and general fringe characters from all over the world (us included!). We rented a fully furnished apartment on one of the city’s many canals (more than Venice I’m told) and lived (and worked) like locals during our days there. The wieners were tasty, soft pretzels divine, and the falafel was unmatched (huge Turkish population).  The history is as fascinating as it is terrifying, and the parties in Berlin NEVER stop.

Also, while in Berlin, I officially became the Content Strategist and U.S. Director of Financial Reporting for a multinational nonprofit start-up called CRE8 Foundation (Content Strategy you ask?). Through CRE8, I work with a talented, multinational team (that includes Ole, Prashant, and Sofi) to connect kids and adults around the world through art. We have begun the process to receive nonprofit status in the U.S. and Spain and expect to be fully operational in the U.S. early next year. It’s a lot of work getting started, but it’s a lot of fun too. I’m honored to be a part of the organization and look forward to the long, fruitful journey that lies ahead.

Low: Saying goodbye.

What’s Next

It’s unlikely we’ll ever again be able to devote such a long, continuous stretch of time to travel. More likely, we’ll settle down somewhere in the U.S., pillows and mattresses will inevitably improve, and—with the exception of the ebb and flow of seasonal change—our surroundings will probably remain relatively the same. But, in this more consistent environment, we look forward to begin seeking out opportunities not so different from those this trip has presented to us: getting lost in nature, finding unique and diverse experiences, challenging the status quo. We look forward to pursuing creativity as a vital source of personal growth and fulfillment. We look forward to continually searching for ways in which our skills, talents and passions intersect with opportunities that enable us to more positively contribute to our local communities and the world at large.

As our feet begin to find solid ground again, we’re already looking forward to taking future leaps into the unknown. We’re starting to find that life has a beautiful way of catching us when we do.

Thanks for reading, and thanks to all those who’ve extended their love and support to us throughout the trip. We’ve missed you dearly, and we look forward to seeing you soon.

Previously unshared photos: Northern India, Annapurna, Nepal medical trek, Kathmandu, Thailand