“Pasillo, medio, o ventana?” The man working at the Aerolineas Argentinas check-in desk asks me as I place my big blue suitcase on the scale.
I give him a look that says, “Are you kidding me?” He chuckles.
“Lo siento,” he replies through a knowing smile. “Pasillo o ventana?”
And there it is. I’m convinced that there’s two types of people in this world: the window-seat people and the aisle-seat people.
“Originally curated to connect our global community, the Travelling Bag is passed from traveler to traveler, encouraging each new owner to delve deeper into the place they’re exploring, to focus on traveling against the norm and creating meaningful connections with the places they visit.
For its next journey, the Travelling Bag joins outdoor-lifestyle and landscape photographer, Emily Boe-Lee. With curiosity as her compass, she embarks on a un-mapped road-trip through the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. Along the way, she discovers a sense of freedom that only the open road can offer. “
Over the past few weeks, I had the tremendous pleasure of working with Millican – a UK based company – and being a part of their Travelling Bag Project!
With no map, no plan, and just an itch for adventure, I took off to Colorado in search of the open road. Read the full story on Millican’s website: https://www.homeofmillican.com/blogs/journal/travel-the-travelling-bag-project-a-rocky-mountain-road-trip#article
Bucket-list item #46: Take a doors-off helicopter ride.
A couple weeks ago, FlyNYON helped me and my good friend Aly check this one off.
After arriving in New York City, we were shuttled to the heliport. Aly and I were both shaking with excitement the whole way there. I think that any fear we would have had (despite Aly and I both being adrenaline-junkies) was completely negated by the surrealness that, yes, we were about to take a helicopter tour over the city.
(This is Part 2 of my Summer in Iceland post. Click here for Part 1!)
Sometime at the end of May, I found myself on a ferry, making my way from the Snæfellsnes Penninsula to the West Fjords, the most remote region of Iceland…
Out the porthole on the lower deck.
After traveling the entirety of Iceland’s Ring Road, which took me on a journey around the whole country, it was time to settle into the second half of my trip: a month in the tiny, isolated town of Þingeyri. Þingeyri (pronounced “thingeyri”) is located along the coast of the fjord Dýrafjörður. The terrain was as wild as wild gets: towering mountains seemed to shoot straight out of the ground, cliffs dropped off into the ocean, and a thick milky fog drifted in and out of the fjord with the tide.
This is a post I’ve been scared to make. I’ve been putting it off – not because I didn’t want to write about my experience or because I didn’t have enough to say, but because I didn’t know how to put it into words.
For those of you who are new to my work, I just recently returned from a two-month visit to Iceland. I was there to immerse myself in another culture and to make art, both images and video. This was my first time living semi-longterm in another country, and I was nervous. I’m always up for a new adventure, but I simply didn’t know what to expect from this experience. In the days leading up to my departure, I made it up in my mind to go in without any preconceived notions of what this chapter of my life might hold.
Spoiler, this trip was incredible – in every aspect of the word. In fact, I have so much to say about my time in Iceland, that I’ll be splitting this post up into two parts. This is part one, in which I’ll talk about my road trip around the country.