Stories of life

I believe that kindness is the way to the truth. That kindness allows one to find that which is usually hidden. What I mean by this is that if I want an Indonesian fisherman to share his life with me, I must be kind. Kindness is most often returned in my experience. Now I might have some money with me, and be able to buy shoes for the fisherman’s son, or help him repair his boat if I am as broke as he is at that point. In this case the fisherman might point me in the direction I am travelling, and if I am especially lucky I may even be invited to dine with him and his family.
It would be small honours such as a meal with a fisherman which I will mostly be writing about. I believe that the great sights of the world need to be seen and communicated to others, yes. It is for this reason that the Pyramids of Giza will most certainly be making my acquaintance in the future. However, I feel that true travelling lies in the smaller things; the things which are often overlooked. This may be as simple as a wonderful sushi bar in a small village of Japan, or it might be a hidden beach on Madagascar’s coast.
Similarly to the overlooked, the singular experiences of one’s travels often stand out as beacons amongst the rest the trip. The singular experiences stay with one long after the trip has melded into memory. The night spent under a roof made of leaves as the rain poured down the sides and the wind threatened to blow the entire shelter away. The talk with a sensitive fellow, in a biker bar, on a lazy Sunday afternoon, which reminded of a grandfather left behind. I prefer to focus my writing on instances among the dazzling adventure of my travels. I attempt to put on paper what was experienced. Sometimes what was said is the focus, other times the antics of a dog on the beach, and still other times I will endeavour to describe the mood of the experience; the liveliness of a beach bar, the muted sounds of a thick forest, or the feel of the sun on my face as I stand on the deck of the ship which is taking me on my next escapade.