Emily Hunt
Bio
When we can't travel physically, our imaginations have to do the job for us, and so do our memories.
And who's to say that just because it's 'in your imagination' means it didn't happen?
Come explore with me!
Stories (3)
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Second Helpings of Turkish Delight
It’s hard to believe that this is the second time I’ve sat at this very coffee bar, in Turkey. I never thought I’d go to Turkey once, let alone twice, let alone twice within about 6 months. This time a few years before now I was probably…somewhere very different. Still looking at the world through the lens of a National Geographic magazine. Turkey was something you ate at Christmas, and only vaguely registered as somewhere you could actually go.
By Emily Hunt5 years ago in Wander
Swish
A long time ago, when I was quite a different person, well before I was anything like any of you know now. Before I became a professional anything, when I still had short hair that was in the slightly ragged stage where it was trying to be long while still being short, when I was still under (likely well under) 5 feet tall, and the only thing I was remotely aggressive about or proud of was my voice. A long time ago, I was good at something else.
By Emily Hunt5 years ago in Wander
Drawing Back the Curtain
Tours to the Valley of the Kings always start early, it’s a long drive from Safaga out to Luxor. A lot of us make the trek, despite being exhausted and gritty eyed from the crew party and BBQ the night before. I am the first one on the bus, prepared this time, with an oversized bottle of water next to me and an extra container of SPF 30 sunscreen in my purse (I’m already wearing SPF 60, but in places like this you can never be too careful), next to a pocket umbrella. I am trying to avoid a repetition of last year’s sun-stroke. For a half hour I’m the only one on the bus, soaking up the silence that is all too soon broken by the excited babble of voices in Indonesian and Phillipino as well as English. Without looking up from my book I reach into my purse and pull out my I-pod; even here, perhaps especially here, I remain solitary, preferring the company of my own daydreams to conversation. These are not guests, and, as such, I’m not required to speak.
By Emily Hunt5 years ago in Wander
