Originating high in the Tibetan Plateau, the Mekong River is the life-blood of activity throughout the history of southeast Asia. Locally known as the Mae Nam Khong, the literal translation is Mother of Water River. The river runs through China, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam, and over the centuries consistently remained an important focal point for locals, governments, and foreign countries.
Locals use the River to sustain life–food, transportation and local trade.
Governments dam and re-route the river in political power struggles between the nations sharing the Mekong River’s natural resources, and international political …

Hats off to the traveling parents out there, the homeschooling, road-schooling, traveling adults with children in tow because man, it’s harder than I first imagined. My niece and I are a month into our trip and the pace of life has changed significantly for both of us. As a serial solo traveler, this past month plus was so much harder than syncing travel rhythms with another adult; instead I plan and plot out our days around school-time, downtime, fun-time, educational time…
So many “times” to figure out each day!
Our first month …

My fifteen hour layover in Taipei, Taiwan was long…fifteen hours in a city is that in-between length of time. Perhaps not long enough to really justify renting a hotel room but an exhausting marathon of site-seeing without a resting spot.
And though my Taipei layover was way longer than I would normally choose, I had little choice in the matter so I embraced the craziness of filling that much time without a home-base and explored the city on the three recommendations from my Taiwanese friend Ben (met him in Belize actually!).
Three …

Long term travel sounds so glamorous – you tell someone you travel most months out of the year and no matter what you follow it up with they’re picturing brooding ancient temples, blindingly white sunny beaches paired with clear blue waters and an endless cocktail party with friends from all over the world.
And those idealized travel images? I’m not going to lie, they’re true. Wading in the pure white sands of the Whitsunday Islands transitions in my memories into a sunset bike ride through Angkor Wat and then the beers …

Right here and now I am going to cop to my own travel snobbery…I used to never ride public transit in the US. That’s what your car is for…
Over the past year I gamely embraced the adventure of using rickety chicken buses in Central America, open-air tuk-tuks in SEA, bikes throughout Amsterdam and yet last week I scoffed and whined at the idea of being forced to ride the metro in LA.
New York? Of course you ride it there.
Same with Chicago, DC, and Boston. I was fine with the idea …

I was sitting on a chicken bus this afternoon and had one of those moments where things just sort of clicked. One of the reasons that I travel, and let me assure you it’s certainly not so that I can ride chicken buses, but rather for the faces of the locals surrounding me.

The bumps and potholes on the roads here in Guatemala ensure that I’m going to arrive at my destination just a touch on the ill side – plus the chicken buses are probably one of …

Ok Central America, you win. I lay prostrate at your feet and am willing to surrender to your charm, your eccentricities, and even the downright annoyingly ridiculous phrase mas o menos which, in translation means “more or less,” but in Mexico (and Cuba) actually means “I-can-tell-you-whatever-I-want-even-if-I-know-I’m-wrong-as-long-as-I-slap-on-a-mas-o-menos.
I fought Central America for the longest time…and that’s just not like me. I’m an “experienced” traveler right? I love new cultures, I know not to judge new places solely through the eyes of my Western upbringing, but yet, sometimes, there’s just something in me …

An internal debate wages on for the brief seconds it takes me to decide to ignore my dad’s chirping voice of caution in my head. Instead, I hoist my backpack over the tailgate of the truck and then hoist myself over said tailgate. The truck engine rumbles to a start and the 15 other backpackers and I, standing, white-knuckle grip the faded gray metal bars threaded through the bed of the truck as we jostle along to our hostel.
At this point in my travels, I approach transportation all a …