My travel stories serve as an invitation to immerse yourself in other cultures and experience the revelation that we are as equal as we are different. I hope my work will generate awareness of the increasing urgency of acceptance in our world today.
BAHIA BLANCA, Argentina — Henry David Thoreau said, “Not until we are lost do we begin to find ourselves.” I carry this philosophy with me around the world – traveling across continents to live my grand adventure. Each place I go presents a story with a plot. I put that story together with the information and the feelings I encounter.
Whether motorcycling through the Sacred Valley of the Incas in Custco or feeling the weight of grief in Oslo, Norway the day after the July 2011 terrorist attacks that killed 77 people – I tap into all my senses to capture and transmit the essence of each place I visit. Traveling is like the motor that drives me and gives meaning to my life; it offers me a tireless sense of wonder.
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When I encountered the young African teenager Kidane, he was kicking a rag ball around in Lalibela, Ethopia. Kidane told me he dreamed of playing soccer with Lionel Messi.
After a short while, Kidane invited me back to his aunt’s house for coffee. The house lay nearly empty, heated by small pieces of coal. The rough, dirt floors presented a stark contrast to life in the developed world. Yet, Kidane and his family emanated pure happiness.
While this simple, rough-trodden house was all they had, they offered me the gift of coffee. I tried to smile, but the emotion I felt when I encountered their generosity filled my eyes with tears. If their attitude was the rule of life, rather than the exception, we could truly change the world.
As I travel the globe, my external journal invariably becomes an internal and reflective one, touching the most intimate parts of me. Recording my travel stories for my Spotify podcast and Instagram, I strive to provide my followers with a window to the world – transmitting the sensations I feel and the knowledge I gather.
These stories serve as an invitation to immerse yourself in other cultures and experience the revelation that we are as equal as we are different. I hope my work will generate awareness of the increasing urgency of acceptance in our world today. As a society, we must respect our differences. After all, diversity is wealth.
As I focus on the simplicity of ordinary people making a difference in their communities, I pay attention to the common details where beauty is found.
Embarking on this incredible lifestyle began years ago. I gave up my work teaching at a university to traveling the globe in search of glorious moments. Brimming with a desire to become “an explorer without a script,” I set out to start a television program. With a collection of rudimentary filing equipment and zero experience, I began recording my travels. Little by little, I transformed into a professional; but I never lost that free spirit that drove me from the start.
Along the way, I have enjoyed unbelievable encounters, like being arrested in Jordan for taking photos of a police station. I have danced with the indigenous Emberá tribe in Central America; rode in a famed gondola boat through the Grand Canal in Venice; and played basketball in the streets of Harlem.
Yet, one of the most astounding encounters I ever had happened in a small tribal village during an initiation ceremony. A young girl from the community had reached the age of puberty – marking her full acceptance into the clan. I asked permission to attend to the ceremony and they allowed it – a rare and exciting opportunity.
When the clan leaders began the ceremony, they brough the young teenager forward. They began to make cuts into her back to create something akin to a tattoo. In her skin, they carved images like frogs and crocodiles. Each picture represented an important clan symbol. Relatives and friends joined the ceremony, taking their turns etching the clan imagery into the teenager’s flesh.
As the ceremony went on, some tribal members prepared cooked fish, dipped in a flour paste made from a tree. After we ate, we navigated the winding, wild riverways. I gazed upon their elevated homes deep in the jungle with awe. Moments like this – encountering cultures so different from my own – I walk a very careful line, making sure to offer my hosts the utmost respect and gratitude.
When I arrived in Australia, I encountered an opportunity to live in a tribal setting. A great sense of curiosity consumed me. I had heard about tribes eating cassowary – a flightless bird similar to an ostrich, thought to be the most dangerous in the world.
“What is like to eat cassowary,” I asked. “It is bitter,” they told me, “but not as bitter as human flesh.” Their answer left me stunned and I froze for a few minutes, trying to understand what I just heard. I replayed the man’s words in my mind over and over and an alarm went off in my head. A strong sense of fear set in.
A strange expression painted the faces of my team members as it dawned on us: this tribe had, at some point, eaten human flesh. Despite the urge to flee as quickly as possible, we stayed with the tribe and eventually, our fears dissipated.
Experiences like these encapsulate one facet of my travel experiences. Sometimes, I feel my body go from zero to 100 as adrenaline rushes through me. Other times, I find myself sitting quietly and simply observing.
My wife Inés and I can sit for hours, appreciating a particular monument or landmark. In Egypt, we took a tour to buy rare perfume, but found ourselves wanting to get back to the grandeur of the pyramids, so the next day we took a bus from Cairo. In front of Egypt’s great wonders, we simply sat – nothing else was necessary in that moment.
From start to finish – time and again – I fall in love with the entire travel process. When I decide on a destination, I delve into its history and background – taking notes and planning. A beautiful sensation enters my body as I sketch out a rough proposal.
With each adventure, the intensity of being a world traveler only grows, and I have many locations yet to visit. Still, the moment I return home and reunite with my life and my things, I feel a different kind of peace.
In the cocoon of familiar surroundings, I immediately start to envision the next quest and the first words of another story. I take pride in being an amateur. The true meaning of that word delights me. Derived from late 1700s French, it means “one who cultivates and participates in something, but does not pursue it professionally or with an eye to gain.” More simply put, it means “one who loves.”
I am a proud amateur in the original sense of the word.