Confessions of a Wanderer
I suffer from a chronic condition called Itchyfeetitus. Over the years I have consulted many an expert; they tell me this condition is incurable. It has long passed the stage of remedial help and that the only antidote is to travel. Frequently. So I do. For several months each year I wander in odd corners of the globe.
I have special fondness for mountains and a penchant for going off the beaten path. More often than, I pitch my tent or a hammock between trees. I use local transport – squashed among sacks of potatoes in the back of a truck or trundling along in a donkey cart.
I meet people – nomads and farmers in the countryside and locals in towns and cities – and am lucky enough to be befriended by them often. I am frequently invited into their homes where we share food, stories and a lot of laughter as I butcher their language. The warmth, hospitality and kindness that I encounter are among my most treasured memories and I have stayed in touch for years with those I met.
These travel tales grew out of my journals and are presented as excerpts. Some are descriptions of places that captivated me while others are stories of my encounters with people. Some are photo essays until I have the time to transcribe tales from handwritten journals from many moons ago. Each is a true story although I have changed some names to protect the person or persons. I hope you will enjoy the places you visit and the people you meet through these pages. And I hope it will inspire you to set out on roads untrod.
When I am not wandering the globe, I am found at a campus in NY attempting to instill physics into resisting minds.
Where These Itchy Feet Have Taken Me So Far