Posts by : Izy Berry

I’ve been traveling since August 2010, but it hasn’t been entirely constant: I’ve spent a little time living in Auckland, Christchurch and the Czech Republic in between that. In that time I’ve been to 23 new countries, met countless amazing people and done incredible things. I’ve enjoyed swimming with glowing fish in Ha Long Bay, volunteering with wonderful children in Cambodia, walking through the cobblestone streets of Prague, Coachella Festival in America and being stabbed in Indonesia. I feel like I’ve packed a lot of life into the past two years. 

Sometimes I meet people and I tell them what I’ve been up to and they look at me, starry eyed, and they tell me I’m so lucky. I don’t doubt that I am, coming from a country like New Zealand has afforded me numerous opportunities not available to the majority of the world and for that I’m grateful. But I’m not lucky in the sense of having a trust fund backing my travels, it has taken sacrifice and I’m not just talking of the financial nature. Long term travel is much cheaper than most people think. If travel is a priority for you, then you will find ways to save as much as you can to make your trip a reality. And you’ll work almost any job along the way to sustain it. But there’s other sides to travel that in reality make it a little less awesome than everyone thinks. 
 

From a materialistic point of view long term travel is hard. I don’t have a “room” anywhere in the world, there’s no fixed space for all of my things to be. Which is probably a blessing in disguise, because I’m less likely to buy things because there’s simply  no where to really put them – unless I feel like giving my friends and family more keepsakes to mind for me (thanks team). When I’m on the road, every few days I’ll have a new bed – there’s very little that becomes constant when you’re on the move. Most of my active wardrobe fits in my backpack, I have three pairs of shoes and I rarely have an opportunity to unpack all my things. Whenever I go clothes shopping I have to think long and hard about whether this piece of clothing is something that I would want to wear in a third world country, because so many of my good clothes were ruined on my first trip to Asia. I haven’t bought any new jewelry in years, again, because I don’t feel it’s appropriate to take with me to developing countries. 
 

 My backpack has probably been the best investment of my trip, there’s no way that I could travel as I do with a suitcase. But some days I glare it and wonder why it can’t pack or carry itself. Could you imagine packing up your bedroom every few days and lugging it around on your back? That’s what I do, but on a smaller scale, although it doesn’t really feel like it! Although my backpack only weighs about 14kgs at the moment, when I combine it with my laptop bag and camera bag, I am borderline being winded after 20 minutes of walking with it. I thought packing would get easier or at least a little less painful, but it hasn’t. Just the other day I was in San Diego basically jumping on my backpack trying to cram everything in and shut the zippers before the contents exploded – much to the delight of a random guy in the hostel. Some days when I’m wandering around with my backpack on, I catch a glance of myself in a store mirror and cringe at my likeness to a turtle – it’s uncanny. 
 

I love arriving in a new city with nothing but an address, and a map, and finding my way: it’s my own little version of The Amazing Race. I find the unfamiliar fascinating. There’s something special about finding a favourite cafe in a new city, or a mind blowing museum. Enjoying things you know would be impossible to do so at home, is just one of the little perks of traveling.  

But sometimes it really sucks arriving somewhere and knowing that none of your friends are going to be there. I like meeting new people, but I’m at the stage in my travels where I’m getting a little tired of the typical traveler questions. 

The “Where are you going?” “How long are you traveling?” “Where are you from?” and so on. 

I understand why they exist and they serve a purpose, but sometimes you’ll be in a place for just a day and it seems like there’s little point engaging in the travelers introductory conversation for the 12th time today. I don’t like that I’m a little jaded in this regard, but I suppose it’s a necessary evil to keep me sane. It’s hard meeting people you know you can’t see tomorrow, and probably wont see again, on a daily basis. 

Conversely, travel makes you act a little differently when you meet people whose company you really enjoy. Because travel, in one way or another, is fleeting, you’ll find that often the connections you have with people will be intensified. Whether this is merely because you’re on holiday and have all the free time in the world to spend together, or because you know you wont see them in a week/month/year and so you open up and let yourself be venerable. Either way, I’ve found myself developing bonds people which felt disproportionately strong when compared to how little time we’d known each other. 
 
And in turn the goodbyes become disproportionately hard. Saying goodbye to someone who you’ve just spent every waking moment of the past two months with is hard.  Especially when you know you wont see them for a very long time. Then, when you do see them, chances are it will be different. I feel like I’ve said more goodbyes in the past two years than anyone should ever have to say in a lifetime. I’m not particularly good at saying goodbye, because I find it frustrating when I want to see someone again and circumstance doesn’t allow: it just sucks. 

A few months ago I realised that there’s absolutely no point even considering a relationship at this stage of my life. There’s still a lot of Europe, all of South America, Africa and the Middle East that I want to travel – that’s gonna take some time. While I’m not opposed to traveling with someone for some of my trip, there’s something special that I love about traveling alone – there’s a magic that I’ve not been able to emulate when I’m traveling with others. Being in a relationship right now would mean compromise. I would have to compromise my travels and in turn I’d be compromising myself. This isn’t easy for me to admit, let alone write, because I love being in a relationship, but now just isn’t the right time. And it’s probably not going to a good time for a very long time. It’s a bit hard to swallow, as I think few things in life would make dating as ridiculously impossible as perpetual nomadic travel, but it is what it is. 
 
Traveling long term involves a lot of sacrifices, but, unsurprisingly, there is an abundance of rewards. At this point in my life, there’s nothing I’d rather do than spend my time exploring foreign territory, meeting unfamiliar faces and arriving in a new place with little more than a map and an address. 

There are some places you travel to and when you think back to them all you can manage is a deep sigh. For me, that’s how I feel about Hoi An. Vietnam was an amazing destination to travel, one of my favourites in all of Asia. There was something different about Hoi An that struck a cord with me, it felt as if a little piece of Europe had accidentally been left here. The buildings, the colours, the food, the pace of life – all a dreamy fusion of European Vietnamese. It’s the perfect place to hire a bike, ride around, stopping at tailors while three ridiculously handsome English men get suits made (key to your Hoi An experience in my opinion). Unfortunately we were there in January which meant that the weather was wasn’t good enough to enjoy the beach and most days were a gray drizzle. It didn’t phase me, Hoi An is perhaps the only place in the world that I’ll love even on the grayest of days. 

Hoi An is pure heaven for your taste buds, it is where I learned to like shrimp and it’s also one of the few places in the world I’ve managed to gain 5kgs in a week. We found a restaurant, Cargo, that sold European style desserts at Asian prices, which is a dangerous combination. If you find yourself in Hoi An, make sure you check it out – yum.

Often I’ll meet people and they’ll be surprised that I like to travel alone. I rattle off the numerous benefits to solo travel and eventually I’ll be asked whether anything bad has happened on my travels. I hesitate, because I worry that by telling this story I’m going to plant the seed of fear and a forest of excuses will flourish. The truth is being stabbed hasn’t stopped me from traveling alone, there’s actually probably a part of me that feels a little more confident because I’ve had something terrible happen and it all turned out okay in the end.

This story begins in outside a little town Kuta, in Lombok, Indonesia, but remember that  being stabbed really could’ve happened anywhere.

My friend suggested I must visit Mawi beach, so I rented a scooter and braved the rough roads for almost an hour. Along my journey I saw large lizards rush across the road and monkeys cheekily hang from branches. I slowed my bike a little so that I could high five local children as they enthusiastically shouted “hello!”. I remember pausing for a moment to take it all in, this is what I’d always wanted from Asia but never managed to find. Eventually I made my way to the beach, which was beautiful and very secluded. There were only a few other tourists around, a couple were surfing and some others were just lounging on the beach, drinking fresh coconuts.

On the way back to Kuta, I stopped often to take photos. While I was on my scooter, less than 10 minutes away from Mawi beach, two men on a scooter pulled up beside me. Originally I wasn’t afraid, only minutes before I’d had an entire family drive past smiling and waving as they drove past. These two men didn’t smile and moments later the passenger was trying to rip my backpack off my back, while I was still driving. My mind was muffled and somehow I decided that they were trying to steal my scooter, which I thought to be annoying, but not the end of the world as I had travel insurance. I slowed down, left the keys in and backed away from the scooter.

 The two men followed me and removed large coconut knives from their belts while I struggled to figure out what was going on. I’d always felt so safe in Asia, so for this to be happening right now seemed like a faraway dream. The passenger quickly moved behind me, slicing the straps of my bag when I suddenly felt the weight of my possessions fall away. Usually I’m sensible when I travel; often leaving my passport and cards in a safe, carrying only a small amount of cash and usually having backup cash hidden in my bags. This day, however, I’d arrived and was so excited I had left that morning with everything. I turned to see my bag in his hands, realising that I was on a very remote island all alone, I became very frightened. 

I felt so angry seeing my things in his hands and that’s when I punched him – one of the two guys holding a knife. I punched him in the chest.

I ripped my bag out of his hands, my camera fell to the ground in all the commotion and he cut me. There was blood everywhere and I was in such shock I couldn’t figure out whether it was just coming from the cut on my hand or whether there was another, bigger wound. I started screaming “tolong” which is help in Indonesia, while accidentally smearing blood all over myself checking that I wasn’t hurt worse somewhere else.

I couldn’t believed I had been stabbed.

Then they just left. My camera was on the ground still, closer to where he’d been standing. All I can really remember is blood being everywhere. I tried to pick up my camera, but my hand was too sore and I just ended smearing blood all over it. There was no way that I could ride my scooter back along the dangerous and broken roads, so I started screaming out “tolong” again, when three locals came by on a scooter. One came over to me and although he spoke no English we somehow managed to coordinate wrapping my towel around my stab wound, packing up my bag and him driving me back to the medical centre in Kuta.

It took me a while to feel myself again, I spent a week in Ubud enjoying raw cacao, delicious food and taking things slow.  A day or two after the attack I decided this could have happened anywhere, even in my home town. I’m not angry with my attackers, I know that many locals earn as little as $40USD a month and so stealing a camera you could sell for a decent profit could be life changing. I have no idea what I’d do if I was battling poverty and had a family to support. I don’t respect their actions, but I can understand the motivation.

Would I travel alone back to Kuta, Lombok? Honestly, probably not as I didn’t really love it and it will stir up bad memories for me. But I still travel alone, I’m just sure to be a little more careful. I’m not worried about being stabbed again.

At the moment I’m sitting at a recharge station in LAX, which is perhaps the worst airport in the world, while I wait to board my flight home to New Zealand. My trip to America was brief, I only had just over two weeks and during that time I managed to squeeze in Los Angeles, Coachella Weekend 1, Mexico, Coachella Weekend 2 and San Diego. Having my camera stolen seriously dampened my trip, but it’s still been amazing.  I fell really badly for San Diego, it’s a city I could see myself living in  – maybe one day.
 

I realized today that it’s been almost ten months since I’ve been home – that’s the longest time I’ve ever left New Zealand. Before I’ve even boarded the plane, I’m being swept over by a cloud of emotions, the heaviest of which is excitement. This flight to New Zealand is different to any I’ve ever taken before, because my end point is not home. This is a holiday: a fleeting few weeks to cram in as many hugs and catch-ups as humanely possible. In part, I’m looking forward to being a “tourist” in my country – every moment I’m there will be spent soaking it all in without the stress of work or commitment. As I’ve become somewhat of an expert in passing time at the airport and dealing with long flights, I figured it’d be good to share a few tips I have.
 

Focus On Your Arrival Time
As soon as I arrive at the airport, after checking in my baggage and getting my affairs in order, I like to set a watch or clock to my arrival destination’s time. It is my goal before I even board the plane to adjust myself into the arrival’s time as it makes jetlag a little lighter. For example, my flight is leaving at 9:45pm from Los Angeles; it’s a 12-13 hour flight, arriving in New Zealand at 5:45am (yay). This is a good flight choice, because it covers my sleep and wake time, although a bit earlier than I would wake up usually.  My flight plan is to stay awake for a few hours at the beginning of my flight, put on a really boring movie and try to sleep the majority of the tail end of the flight. If I can get a solid 4-6 hours towards the end, I should be functional for the following day in Auckland.

Sleep Appropriately
Following on from my example above, as I arrive in Auckland at 5:45am, there is absolutely no sense in going to bed by the time I arrive at my friend’s house, however tempting it may be. I will force myself to stay awake, as late as possible and as close to my normal sleep time. If I fall asleep during the day, it is going to cause me to suffer a full swung bout of jetlag, which isn’t really appealing. I believe that sleep is a really big factor in minimizing jetlag, both during the flight and afterwards, so take some time formulate a good sleep plan.

Drink Lots of Water
I’m always tempted to drink the free alcohol and coffee on board, as I love both of those. However, they will dehydrate you! Being on a plane in itself is dehydrating, so when you add caffeine and alcohol to the mix, you’re just calling for disaster. I always aim to drink a glass of water an hour, at least. Often I will take an empty bottle onto a flight and request that the air host/ess fills it up for me – that way I’m not bugging them hourly for a drink. Some planes have little refill stations and I visit them fairly often as it’s a good excuse to get your legs walking on the flight.

Take Snacks
If you’re traveling on a cheap flight that doesn’t provide meals, take some decent snacks with you. Airplane food on the low cost airlines is crap and usually twice what you’d pay for the same food in an average café. So, do yourself a favor and pack some affordable snacks. On one long flight from Kuala Lumpur to Paris I decided to take a bag of popcorn, which worked a treat with some movies on my laptop. I find that muesli bars and wraps are really good airline snacks, but you can take whatever you like.

Bring Some Cosy Socks and Clothes
I always dress appropriately for my flights, usually wearing a dress with leggings as I find that pretty comfortable to plane-sleep in. I see numerous people bordering the plane in an assortment of uncomfortable clothes and hope that they’ve got some comfy slacks hidden in their carry on. Unless you’re traveling premium economy or business class, chances are you’re going to have some difficulty sleeping, so make things a little easier by making sure you’re comfortable. I find that a thick, warm pair of socks makes me feel a little cozier, too.

As you read this, I’ll be flying high above the Pacific Ocean which I’ve affectionately dubbed “my ocean”. I’m nervous about reverse culture shock and finding that perhaps New Zealand isn’t as amazing as I remember. I’m worried I wont fit in all the wonderful people that I want to see. But above all, I am excited to be going home.  

Coachella was a dream of mine for many years, but one of those dreams I’d labeled as “maybe one day” and filed into the back of my mind. Each year the lineup would be released and I’d scroll down the list, lusting over my favourite artists and wishing I could be there. This year, my friend and I were buying tickets and my skype cut out – completely disconnected. During that time I managed to get two tickets to the first weekend. I immediately called my friend, shaking and screaming with excitement, only for him to tell me he got tickets to the second weekend – double lucky!

We attended last weekend, but it got off to a really slow start. After my camera was stolen in Los Angeles, I was feeling a bit down. The drive from LA to Coachella took twice as long as we expected and we arrived late at night on the Friday with rain blanketing the valley. I decided to sleep and missed the first day of Coachella (shhhh). The second day was much more successful and I fell in love in love with Bon Iver all over again. Third day was pretty late, but it was awesome singing along to Somebody That I Used To Know live and dancing to Beirut – Nantes.

It turns out that American’s don’t know how to “concert” – they make three key concert errors.

Firstly, when we went to see Kasabian playing there was a slight mosh pit going on, which was really awesome, except for the meter radius everyone had around them. It was so easy to walk through the people to get close to the front, which was kinda cool, but it just felt a little awkward really.

Secondly, after Bon Ivers set, everyone sat down, obviously waiting for Radiohead’s set. Literally, as soon as the music stopped, everyone fell to the ground like flies being ambushed fly spray. This was just outright annoying, I wanted to leave to see another act, but I was too drunk and too far into the centre to move away freely, so after a few minutes of awkward swaying I decided to just sit down and wait.

Thirdly, towards the end of Radiohead I was over it… I hadn’t really wanted to see them this weekend and I was trapped, so I tried to make my great escape. In New Zealand, people resent you if you try to get closer to the front of the concert, which seems to be kosher here, and they are pretty kind to you if you want to leave as you’re freeing up space for them. Here, in the land of the free, if you are trying to leave people give you evil glares, barely make space for you and will make sarcastic sounds. Some people will try to push you back further towards the front… I don’t understand this, at all? Do you not want my prime concert location? Can an American please translate this for me?

Aside from the little differences, Coachella was an unbelievable experience.  It’s such a big festival, it’s like it’s own little CoachellaLand. At present I’m looking into visas and to the process of moving to Coachellaland forever. But for now, at least I get to set up house there for this weekend. Temperatures are looking to hit 30 degrees plus and we’re camping, which I think is going to be a little crazy.

I had a great time in Tijuana, Mexico – Couchsurfing for the first time and I can’t wait to post about it. Often people post about Couchsurfing as a way to make travel cheaper, but I think it’s more than that: for a period of time a person invites you into their life. It’s a really personal way to travel and it’s a great way to meet locals.

The Songs That Have Shaped My Travels

Seeing as I’m busy enjoying Coachella I figured it’d be fun to do a music themed blog post. For me, music is really powerful and when I listen to a song I love, memories surge through my veins and I remember all the critical points at my life when I heard that particular song. Music is the closest thing I have to teleportation, at the moment, and for this reason I’m very particular about songs that I choose to play throughout my travels. I’m typing this post on a bus from Prague to London (hey, it saved me 70 euros) and I realized that travel would be a lot more painful without good tunes. 

After 1.5 years of travel, I’ll be honest and say that there are times when it’s difficult. Travelling alone has many benefits and I treasure it because of the special experiences it opens up with locals and fellow tourists alike. Changing places regularly brings a full spectrum of emotions: empowerment, anxiety, bliss, loneliness, confusion, awe, homesickness and pride – you can feel everything and anything at once. I’ve got songs that lift me up when I’m feeling down and I have some that let me just pause and take everything in.
 

When I was saying goodbye to three guys I’d travelled with for two months and moving on to Cambodia alone, I needed to hear something that made me feel like I could take on the world. Naked and Famous – Girls Like You was my weapon of choice, and whenever I listen to it I can remember all the details of that period of time. I can remember the long, lonely bus ride from Saigon to Phnom Penh, requesting a room for… one and proceeding to spend an entire day in my pjs eating ice cream blasting this song on repeat. I want to share the songs that have shaped my travels with you, so get comfy (pjs and ice cream encouraged), and listen to some really amazing music.
 

Jose Gonzalez – Heartbeats
I never expected much from Amsterdam, I thought it’d be seedy, with prostitution and drugs oozing from its pores. Instead, I found myself biking around the beautiful canals, shopping bags in my basket, slowly falling in love with Europe. I knew it was a period of my life I would want to savour forever, so I chose this dreamy song as my soundtrack to Amsterdam.

M.I.A – Paper Planes
This is a bit cheesy, I know – I suppose everyone associates this with India thanks to Slumdog Millionaire. But, when I was flying into Calcutta airport,  I had one of those moments where I doubted every decision I’d made leading myself here. Why on EARTH did I pick India and such a random city I knew nothing about?  ALONE? I was nervous, sick to my stomach and smothered in doubt. The only solution? Two doses of this song. As the plane dipped onto the runway, I was blasting it as loud as I could on my iPod earphones – it was everything I needed in that moment.

The Temper Trap – Sweet Disposition
I arrived in India on the Monday, on the Tuesday a strong earthquake struck my hometown. I found out the following day that my aunty, affectionately renamed my pseudo mama, was missing and after a few complications with insurance I was on a long, painful flight home. I don’t think I could ever accurately articulate the feelings that churned inside: hope and fear are devastating when mixed. I spent three days constantly on the verge of breaking down and this beautiful song was my lullaby. It soothed me to sleep, it kept me awake at the airports while in transit, and it gave me the confidence to walk through the arrival lounge in Christchurch knowing she wouldn’t be there waiting for me.

Bon Iver – Skinny Love
Well, Bon Iver’s got around a lot. He’s been the background music to many key parts of my life. This was the sound of me learning to live with grief and finding the courage to leave my country again. Probably the sweetest memory I have of Bon (we’re clearly on a first name basis now) is sitting in a four-bed sleeper train coming back from Sapa, with three Europeans I’d met during my travels. I put Skinny Love on, the two guys relaxed while a new friend, Ava, and I sung along smiling at each other. She told me that she was really glad she came and decided to come to Bangkok to spend a few more days with us. It was perfection. Hearing him last night at Coachella was an absolute dream. 

And for those days when I’m feeling a little home sick and need some New Zealand music I play Fat Freddies Drop – Hope. It reminds me of sitting a little patch of grass, with a beer in hand, loving New Zealand.

Do you have any travel songs that you carry with you always? As my iPod was stolen I have to load up my music collection again!

This was where everything started, that all consuming wanderlust. I remember clearly having my feet planted on the first soil that felt really foreign, while standing in awe looking at the busyness of it all. It was the only place I’d ever been before that really didn’t feel like it could be my home, and I loved that about it. It’s been over 1.5 years since I was last in Hong Kong and I’m really looking forward to returning again in June.
 

Hong Kong was also where i purchased some new photography gear and started really trying to make myself improve. I felt obligated to, so that I could start doing justice to the places I was visiting. And while looking at these photos I could see ways I wish I’d done them differently, they were the start and I appreciate them for that.
 

Yesterday in valet parking in Hollywood my camera was stolen. I’m resigned to the fact that there’s nothing I can do to retrieve it, which is both devastating and frustrating. I could run through a list of things I could have done differently, but the end point is I felt it should have been safe there. There might be complications with my insurance company, but I hope not as I can’t afford the considerable sum it will cost to replace the body and the lens. For me, photography is such a huge part of my travel and I’m not sure how my next few weeks/months of travel will be without it. I’m trying to keep things in perspective, it’s just stuff, but it was mine.
 
Last time I only had 24 hours in Hong Kong, this time I’m heading there for five days. Any suggestions of things I have to do are appreciated!  

So, I’m here. In America, land of the free. If I can be honest, America was never a place I was never desperate to visit, but Coachella has been a dream of mine for numerous years, so a trip here was inevitable. So far, I’m having a great time. I’m constantly surprised by how friendly Americans are. They are so chatty! In Rory’s I met a movie star… on YouTube, haha. Many of the stereotypes ring true, though. We went to Del Taco for dinner (stay classy) and the large fountain cups were big enough to quench the thirst of a rugby team. Supermarkets are laced with so many delicious treats and there’s a billion flavors of M & Ms!

We picked up our Coachella passes yesterday and as I was flipping through the booklet, I became SO excited. Coachella Valley is absolutely stunning, my photo above, taken from a car, does it no justice. It’s a really weird feeling going to a festival knowing you’ll be there for the second week. It takes a lot of the pressure of having to see your favourite artists. After Coachella Weekend 1 I’m going to try to make my way down to Tijuana and maybe Ensenada. I hope to see a little of San Diego. Post Coachella Weekend 2 I have only 2-3 days before I fly out of LAX, so I’m not sure where I’ll go then… I have a while to figure it out.

Less than 24 hours until it all begins, I’m so excited 🙂

Meeting locals – When I set out on my first trip to South East Asia, I knew that meeting locals was one aspect of my trip that was really important to me. While meeting fellow backpackers is special – some of them have become close, treasured friends – it’s not unlike spending time with your friends from home on holiday. I wanted to penetrate the surface of the countries I was visiting and the best way to do that is to slow down and speed time with the locals.

Not Exactly What Was Promised:
When we were in Chiang Mai we did a three-day trek through the gorgeous hills. On the second night we were staying in a “hill tribe” – the reality was that we were staying in tourist accommodation next to a hill tribe. Our tour guide didn’t take us to visit the locals and eventually curiosity got the better of us and we set off in a group of 10 or so people to explore. Walking up towards their houses, I noticed that there were a bunch of other tourists wandering around confused. This was not the hill tribe experience any of us had hoped for, but on reflection I’m not sure how it could have gone much better.

I felt like I was looking into a fish tank: another world that I couldn’t possibly fit inside. Being part of a large group of outsiders made me feel awkward, so I told my friends I’d wander around alone and see them later. Two children working caught my attention, so I slowly approached them with my ridiculously large camera in tow. I smiled – it was my version of holding a white peace flag. The girl kept panning the rice, oblivious to my presence, perhaps jaded by the hoards of tourists that stroll through her property daily. The little boy lapped up the attention and started doing peace poses – pausing his motion so I could take a good photo of him. I noticed my friends in the distance, clumped together, still firmly on the outside of this world. This is when I learnt my first and second lessons about meeting locals: be alone and smile.

An Experience I Would Have Paid For:
When I was in Ubud I was taking out a bit of time to recover. I had spent most of my time sitting in nice restaurants, dreaming up future travel plans and talking to hippies. It was time well spent, but not what I’d really envisioned from Ubud. I wanted to see the lush rice patties and longed to spend more time with the local people. My guesthouse didn’t have wifi, so I sat down the street out the back of a restaurant, blatantly stealing their Internet. Depending on the shift there were about 5-10 wait staff on at any one time and the restaurant was never that busy.

During the quieter periods, the staff would sit outside to pass the time. In between emails home, we’d talk about their hopes and dreams and I’d share mine, too. As I’d walk past they’d shout out “Hello Izy” and I’d stop to ask them how their day was going and whether they were busy today. After a few days of talking, I mentioned that I really wanted to explore the outskirts of Ubud, but was a bit cautious about hiring a scooter again. One of the restaurant staff offered to take me to see his family village, the following afternoon when he’d finished the early shift.

The next day at four pm, we met at the back of the restaurant and I jumped on his motorbike, pausing briefly to consider how sensible this decision was. As we darted between the other motorbikes, the tourist shops of Ubud trailed behind us. It wasn’t long before we were climbing a sweeping hill that was overwhelmingly beautiful. I held onto my new friend, tightly, as he told me stories of how long his family had lived here. The roads turned from sealed to dirt, and the local people started to give me double takes; I was somewhere that tourists were not normally invited. As we pulled up to his house, I lifted my helmet back to see his sister walking over, with two specially prepared drinks in her hand. We sat in the courtyard, over looking his uncle’s beautiful artworks in progress. His younger siblings and cousins surrounded us: their eyes curious and smiles wide.

After being formally introduced to the entire extended family, we decided to explore the area around his house. I was taken to their village’s private Buddhist temple, which was immaculately maintained. We sat together, perched on the top of hill watching the sunset sweep over the lush forest. We were cocooned in silence, not for lack of words, but because the moment itself was enough. On the way back to Ubud we stopped into his uncle’s gallery, where I was given a grand tour of all of his artwork, including photos of his exhibition in Singapore some ten years ago. To say I was welcomed warmly would be an understatement; I was constantly flattered, fussed over and given an open-ended invitation to stay on my next visit to Ubud.

The Keys To Opening The Other World:
It’s hard to pull apart the exact reasons as to why these opportunities presented themselves and in truth it’s unnecessary. However, my local experiences are not limited to these two, there have been numerous treasured moments with locals that I’d like to cover on this blog, over time. As I mentioned, I think being alone and friendly increases the chances tenfold. But there’s more to it than that, simply having the time to slow down and be open to these experiences is key. If I had a rigid schedule in Ubud I might not have been able to meet up the following day. If I’d been sitting inside the restaurant using the WIFI legitimately, I doubt this invitation would have evolved either. If you want to spend time with locals, go where they are.

I have literally hundreds of great memories of my travels throughout Asia, ranging kayaking at sunset through Ha Long bay, Vietnam, to buckets on the beach of Koh Phi Phi. The memories that sink to the deepest part of me are those where the veil of tourism has been brushed to the side and I’ve seen the people and their lives, truly. I hope that through sharing my memories you can see that is possible to have authentic experiences. I could have paid a considerable sum of money for a tour through a local village in Ubud, but I would have been there for the profit rather than for the genuine, honest and pure desire to share. Spend some time alone, smile, slow down and be where the people are and I’m sure you’ll find your own experiences that will stay with you forever.

If have any special stories of your own, please share them – I’d love to hear 🙂