wonder & wander

Twentieth

Dear Papa,

The few times in my life that I’ve had moments of absolute clarity, I was either out at sea or sitting in silence thinking how everything is meant to be. I try to make those moments last, like a really good salty wave or a calm, peaceful sunday. I remember every now and then how those kinds of days felt when you were around, we were grateful little kids proud to come from a long line of incredible people whom we took amazing memories from.

Its been 20 years and nobody really gets over that. But theres is no other occurrence in the past that has ever driven me to keep on doing what I love, one that has taught me to be my own pioneer in life. We have a kind of faith that puts our hearts in the right place, that kind of feeling that chases the gems in life called chance and destiny. And we owe it all to you, the one person we always wanted back, a missing piece of home.

Nomatter how many years you have with one person, it will never seem enough. I hope i made it count Pops, thank you for being our angel. You will always be the kindness in every stranger I meet. My anchor drifting out at sea. An avenue of light in the darkest road and the path to my highest summit. If there is one person in this world, who deserves more time here, it would be you. Thank you for keeping all of us deeply inspired. I miss you, every. single. day.

Love, Light and Sea Sprays,
Timmy

Paris

We were sitting by the grass, clinging $5 nuttela crepes off the street watching everyone float by. A few months before, there seemed so many reasons to leave home, the main one a 1000ft steel tower that made the most distant of lovers, curious nomads and drifters become permanent dwellers in this scene. It seemed that, from any angle of Paris, there was “Le Tour Eiffel”, from my bus seat, my cafe window, my moving train. I hung on tight, closing in and revelling on every picture taken and every memory snapped between them.

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They said leave your city behind, and so we find ourselves here. The city of Phoenix, Morisson and Hugo with all of their famed stories. Everyone or someone was named Francóis or Marion or Méchelle and they just fall off your tongue like its the high life. We hoisted ourselves through many museums, churches, rivers, finding enchantment in street names and statues as if quietly, we needed to belong. We sat on french steps, watching free music til the sun set and welcomed the night with flashes of Moulin Rouge down the alley way. There were love letters and rolling hills, carousels and rushes of leaves that passed every traveller. Even its dark corners and flares of graffiti held its charm, saying, this is Paris. We knew this was where we wanted to be, and forever seemed not too long to get here.

We know, there are all kinds of love, fleeting and constant. And like all other wanderers, we fell in love with this city, with purely the permanent kind. Encoré Paris. Whereever we go, we take you with us. Heres to everyday, every hour, where we always meant to say, c’est la vie!

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Bali, Indonesia

I had imagined it the way it would be, breezy views, perpetual seas and dreamy coastlines. If it weren’t for that memorable trip not so long ago, id have forgotten this gem of an island was just waiting for me.

We arrived from a busy plane, 4 hours too long for my weary feet itching to roam again. I dreamt about this moment, being here. And then I find myself walking along Seminyak and remembered why I love this place. I couldn’t echo enough bliss when I saw Uluwatu for the first time. Or when I finally felt my little elephant, Ryan, hugging its long nose and gentle hides. Or when I sensed the rush of cold water at Ayung river. There was no fear, no reservation. Only a realization that fleeting moments come through adventure, lost journeys, and there was no hiding my desire for it.
There is a restless spirit abound in Bali with all its wild motorcycles, mad dogs and crazy nights. But the noble irony is that I would always wake up feeling calmness wash over me. There is nothing else to do but surrender yourself to the island and get lost at the depth of the sea.
Sadly, as in every trip, it isn’t the crazy rides, empty wallets or wrong turns that bring a vacation down, its always leaving. There is plenty of youth but never enough time to drift in this place, this wonderland. There will be a point when every travel becomes a distant memory and you’ll become a dweller of every place and every moment. But Bali will always be my paradise, a little piece of heaven. I have no doubt I belong to this island, I knew I was home.

Bali, Indonesia

I had imagined it the way it would be, breezy views, perpetual seas and dreamy coastlines. If it weren’t for that memorable trip not so long ago, id have forgotten this gem of an island was just waiting for me.

We arrived from a busy plane, 4 hours too long for my weary feet itching to roam again. I dreamt about this moment, being here. And then I find myself walking along Seminyak and remembered why I love this place. I couldn’t echo enough bliss when I saw Uluwatu for the first time. Or when I finally felt my little elephant, Ryan, hugging its long nose and gentle hides. Or when I sensed the rush of cold water at Ayung river. There was no fear, no reservation. Only a realization that fleeting moments come through adventure, lost journeys, and there was no hiding my desire for it.

There is a restless spirit abound in Bali with all its wild motorcycles, mad dogs and crazy nights. But the noble irony is that I would always wake up feeling calmness wash over me. There is nothing else to do but surrender yourself to the island and get lost at the depth of the sea.

Sadly, as in every trip, it isn’t the crazy rides, empty wallets or wrong turns that bring a vacation down, its always leaving. There is plenty of youth but never enough time to drift in this place, this wonderland. There will be a point when every travel becomes a distant memory and you’ll become a dweller of every place and every moment. But Bali will always be my paradise, a little piece of heaven. I have no doubt I belong to this island, I knew I was home.

Cambodia, January 2013

Cambodia, January 2013

Kuang Si Waterfalls

Luang Prabang, Laos

Temple Hopping at Vientiane, Laos

Wat Sisaket, Haw Phra Kaew, Phat That Luang

I am home from a two week backpacking trip in Southeast Asia. There really is no better teacher than travel and no more humbling experience than immersing yourself in other cultures.

This trip i have met a punk rock canadian chef, an israeli student, a german rock climber, a lao christian miner, a belgian social worker and many other people. Each of them holding their own stories and sharing their experiences. I have come to know, that not all Lao practice buddhism, Israelis are mandated to go to “army” two years minimum for women, foreigners cannot say Philippines, but only Philippine (haha), Japanese find Japan expensive, and multiple other shared stories over dorm rooms, bars, coffee and dinner.

If not for these stories, many places and friendships remain to be seen. One can only imagine how unexplored the world is and that, coupled with my ever mantra of making the most out of life, remains to be my inspiration for wanting to travel. 

Today, I am broke again. I almost lost my life in Luang Prabang (our van lost its brakes). I almost got in between a bar fight during new years eve (sneaky irish!) at Van Vieng and I almost fainted with my moto ride in SRP. But those are my stories, those are the things id gladly do over again. those are what i would laugh about when im 82. those are what ill share on my next journey. Those are what make me, me.

It is always true what henry rollins says…”and so there are lessons that you can’t get out of a book that are waiting for you at the other end of that flight.”  I cant wait for the next adventure. It can only get crazier each time.

I am home from a two week backpacking trip in Southeast Asia. There really is no better teacher than travel and no more humbling experience than immersing yourself in other cultures.

This trip i have met a punk rock canadian chef, an israeli student, a german rock climber, a lao christian miner, a belgian social worker and many other people. Each of them holding their own stories and sharing their experiences. I have come to know, that not all Lao practice buddhism, Israelis are mandated to go to “army” two years minimum for women, foreigners cannot say Philippines, but only Philippine (haha), Japanese find Japan expensive, and multiple other shared stories over dorm rooms, bars, coffee and dinner.

If not for these stories, many places and friendships remain to be seen. One can only imagine how unexplored the world is and that, coupled with my ever mantra of making the most out of life, remains to be my inspiration for wanting to travel.

Today, I am broke again. I almost lost my life in Luang Prabang (our van lost its brakes). I almost got in between a bar fight during new years eve (sneaky irish!) at Van Vieng and I almost fainted with my moto ride in SRP. But those are my stories, those are the things id gladly do over again. those are what i would laugh about when im 82. those are what ill share on my next journey. Those are what make me, me.

It is always true what henry rollins says…”and so there are lessons that you can’t get out of a book that are waiting for you at the other end of that flight.” I cant wait for the next adventure. It can only get crazier each time.

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A handpicked medley of inspirations, musings, obsessions and things of general interest.