Growing up in country Victoria meant that my idea of culture was Vegemite toast, take-away chinese and La Prochetta. I never saw myself as a traveller growing up and there are still people way more dedicated to travel than myself. It wasn’t until I was eighteen-years-old after graduating from a Catholic school that I finally found myself with an urge to catch a plane away from the comfortable and to an unknown that, in due time, would shock me in both good and bad ways.
Knowing there are millions of travel blogs out there, each trying to gather interest from anywhere possible I don’t expect this to reach far. What I do hope is that my stories can be a clear, transparent view on my experiences that someone else can read and learn from. This isn’t a blog on how amazing the world is. Part of it is, and part of it is also how what we expected is completely wrong in either amazing or shocking ways.
The unknown of travel is always advertised in movies, travel booklets and posters as an incredible once-in-a-life-time experience filled with exotic adventures. Instagram is an offender of portraying travel as a luxurious and envious exploration of the self. The filtered photos captioned with high end taste hides the raw realness of travel and the honest experieices that make you say, “I miss home.”
This blog is a funny, honest and filterless compilation of stories that encapture travel in a way that highlights the lows as much as the highs while still igniting and stirring a passion inside the most of homebodies.
Wander Bug 