In 2011, I quit my job, sold everything I owned and left England for a one year trip around the world. I thought I was making a huge mistake.
When I stepped on that plane, one-way ticket in hand, I’d never travelled alone before, and never for more than two weeks at a time. I had no life experience, zero common sense and had never eaten rice. I suffered from debilitating anxiety, I was battling an eating disorder and I had just had my heart broken.
Unexpectedly, given my lack of life experience, I was soon to discover that I’m the worst traveller in the world. I’ve been scammed, assaulted and robbed, lost teeth and swallowed a cockroach. I’ve fallen into leech-infested rice paddies, had the brakes of my motorbike fail while riding down a mountain and a boat started to sink with me on board. I’ve been caught up in a tsunami, sat beside a corpse and experienced a very unhappy ending during a massage in Thailand.
Though I didn’t realise it at the time, I was experiencing a transformation despite the terrible things that were happening to me. My frequent panic attacks faded away as I repeatedly forced myself to leave my narrow comfort zone. I overcame my eating issues, evolving from a person who had never eaten Asian food to one who wouldn’t think twice about trying fried crickets. I even found love along the way, meeting Dave, a handsome New Zealander who taught me not to be afraid of living.
Travel changed my life. On Never Ending Footsteps, I show how it can change yours, too. Learn from my mistakes, find the courage to follow your dreams and find humour in my misfortune. Let me show you how not to travel the world.