travel

The ultimate test of a compatible relationship is whether you can stand to travel together.

Six Feet Four Inches
I pondered all the reasons I cherished the small hometown I grew up in. I thought about Friday night football where I played the clarinet in the marching band. I stood in the stands amid my friends, wearing a tuxedo that was too big for my arms. I had no idea what was going on down on the field, but the music carried the night away.
By Mallory Benjamin5 years ago in Humans
The Lone Traveler
I have no roots. I have no home. Not tied down to anything or to anyone, I wonder freely throughout my life, making briefs stops along the way. I am but a lone traveler along my own journey. I have been alone for sometime now and I used to think I was a victim. A victim of divorced parents, of moving homes 11 times in 15 years. A victim of having no life long friends. Then I realized, I am not a victim of anything, this is who I am. I have thought a lot about setting roots down somewhere, making a home. I’ve tried to imagine myself staying in one spot for a long time. Settling down somewhere near family and growing my own. But it is not time yet.
By Tarin June5 years ago in Humans
Stories for Money
Stories for Money I rarely venture outside the bounds of my community, mainly because spending money on myself seems as abstract as a blue moon. I did spend some money about a year ago on a road trip. I had so much fun that the money I spent became a forgotten memory. However, near the end of any fantastical journey, there’s always a trigger that brings me back to reality. In a brilliant moment of word association, I say something ridiculous, so ridiculous it becomes an iconic saying. For example, the last road trip I went on was with my Dad and I was wearing a dress on the way home. I never wear dresses unless forced to, so I was not used to it. As I sat in the car day dreaming about nothing, I look down at my bare, pale legs and say to Dad,
By Tessa Lawrence5 years ago in Humans
The holiday of a life time
Chapter one On new year’s eve 2004 it was a lovely day and an 18 year old girl called Katherine went on holiday to Spain, it was the first time that she had been on holiday on her own, she was 5ft8, with red hair that was just above shoulder length and hazel eyes, where she met a very nice young man called David who was 1 year older than Katherine, he was about 6ft, with short black hair and brown eyes, but that didn’t bother her because she had fallen in love with him even though she had only just met him.
By Katie Dolman5 years ago in Humans
The Little Black Book
She had been out the night before; some random guy had made his way home with her. It was the next morning, he had already left hours before. She made herself a coffee and began cleaning her apartment from the night before. As she tidied the papers on her coffee table to sit and read her morning news. She discovered a leather-bound black book. She knew this was not hers and assumed it had been left by her one-night stand.
By Jenna Jones5 years ago in Humans
Boat life 1: baptism of fire
In 2013 my husband started his journey in medical school. Unfortunately it wasn’t to be. Hubby, Craig, is sight impaired. He scored highly in his biomed degree, saved lives volunteering for an ambulance service, and had to perform extra exams to enter the specific school to show he was capable of performing procedures with the proper tools despite his sight. The university (which will not be named here) wasn’t able to adjust a few things such as have lectures online before the lecture started so he could follow on his ipad, or print handouts off in large print. Long story short we managed to sue the university for discrimination and got a decent settlement out of it. The money sat in our account for a couple years while we tried to figure out what to do with it.
By Aertemys5 years ago in Humans
Dallas
Dallas, Texas, November, 1841. A man stood on the banks of the river. It was unusually warm, even for Texas in the fall, and the man had traveled far for this bank of this river. ,
By Alys Revna5 years ago in Humans
Simple Pleasures
I can already feel the straps of my obnoxiously bright aqua togs digging into my side. The white linen blouse that I am wearing clings relentlessly to the sweat that crawls, as if purposefully in slow motion, down the small of my back. My denim shorts have been too small for months now. I haven't replaced them under the false pretence that I might actually loose some weight. I chuckle to myself over my audacity, just last night I had shovelled Belgian Chocolate ice cream into my gob, as though my life depended on it. I do an awkward dance on the pavement, hopping from one foot to the other and welcome the sweet relief when I finally find a grassy patch where I can take refuge. Despite doing this walk almost daily, I never seem to catch on. This would be a lot more bearable if I made the effort to wear shoes.
By Madeline Tetzner5 years ago in Humans
Supernatural British Columbia
The clouds bring darkness, rain and sullen goodbyes. The sun has bid farewell while the clouds kiss the north shore mountains, leaving gifts of snow caps.
By M.A.C.5 years ago in Humans
The Battle of Platform 3
She shuffled her feet as her hands dug deeper into the pockets of her down jacket, her fingernails scraping the thread fastening the pockets. The lining had given way to a small hole, likely the result of her habit of poking at it, although she did for a moment wonder why these thick puffer coats belied such flimsy inner material.
By Nisha Kaur5 years ago in Humans
American living in Canada
I met my Canadian husband in November 2015, in my hometown New York City. We instantly clicked and connected, since the minute I met him I knew he was going to be someone important in my life. He is a former Air Force pilot and still flies as an aerobatic pilot on his own jets now. As our relationship progressed, I never thought anything of moving to Canada, I thought of it as an extension of USA (after all it is part of North America). My son, who was 8 at the time and I; moved to Canada in the beginning of 2017, but to our surprise (my Canadian husband included), when I went to register my son to school, I was told that to acquire a permit to attend, we needed to apply for the Permanent Residency status from within Canada and if we choose this route, we would get permit to attend immediately but we could not travel until we acquire the Permanent Residency status. I immediately knew I would not be OK with that, being that my entire family lived in USA and I knew only my husband in Canada. We thought of going somewhere in the border of US/Canada to rent a place so that my son could attend school there and we would not be so far from my then boyfriend. We settled for Buffalo and moved on one of the North towns of Buffalo, called Amherst (nice place with excellent schools). We got married in August 2017 and immediately submitted our Permanent Resident application. The process lasted almost 2 years although I have NO CRIMINAL RECORD. It was strange that we filed the paperwork at the same time my cousin (who married a Canadian) and was born in Dominican Republic did. He was approved as a Permanent Resident to Canada in 8 months. My son and I lived in Amherst, NY for almost 2 years. After many background checks (from all states I lived prior (2 states to be exact – Florida & New Jersey) and a detailed background check from the FBI) were cleared, I was able to be to come live with my husband in Canada in February 2019. Although, I was happy living in Buffalo because it was different than NYC but still felt like home; I knew as a wife I had to come to Canada to live at my home that my husband built brand new and had been living alone since July 2017. After my son finished that school year, we moved from Amherst, NY (Buffalo) to Canada. It was July 2019. Our house was built in a rural town named Tillsonburg, it is off London, ON (the 5th biggest city in Ontario, with a population of 383,437 as of 2016) and about 1.5 hours away from Toronto, ON (the 1st biggest city with a population of 2.8M as of 2016). We moved there because my husband wanted to live close to his planes that were at a hanger in this town. This town is not truly diverse but to be frank Canada itself (in my opinion) is not diverse, except for the bigger cities like Toronto, Ottawa, and Quebec City. The larger groups of immigrants I have seen here are Indian and Asians. I was working in my field in Buffalo, NY as an Accountant, so I thought, I can just submit my resume and dive right into my field in Canada. After many failed interviews and before I became frustrated, someone was “nice enough” to tell me I had “NO CANADIAN EXPERIENCE”. I could not help but to think: 1) How can a newcomer (as they call immigrants) have Canadian experience? 2) Aren’t numbers the same in every country? 3) Was this a form of prejudice? It was not until I landed an interview in a company that was close to where I lived. That I understood the problem…. The company was interested in my skills and I even landed a second interview, the manager pointed out that he was interested in me and someone else, so he would give us a second interview and decide then. As I arrived at the second interview, a Canadian lady was coming out of the room that the interview was being held, wearing Birkenstocks (Canadians use these often at least where I lived) but I did not think it was appropriate for a business work environment. But remembered I now lived elsewhere and maybe this was OK here in Canada or specifically where I lived. I thought the interview went well and I was happy and hopeful I would get hired for the job, but the job was offered to the Canadian lady instead. I did not think much of it but did think it was awkward that a lady with Birkenstocks landed a job, but I continued my job search. I landed another interview with an American company, but obviously I was interviewed by Canadians because this is Canada. The manager and I clicked, and all went well, he even hired me. I was to start the following Monday. Before I got too overexcited, I received and email from the manager apologizing to me because he needed to back out of the offer, he told me it was an “upper management” decision. Again, there I was jobless (I have never been jobless in all my adult life in America because I was an Accountant, and this field is one where you always have a job). To make the long story short, I eventually stopped looking for a job in Canada. Recently, my friend’s husband who is Canadian told me that they like hiring Americans that live in America. They even offer them more money and relocation expenses to come work here. But ones an American is here in Canada it is harder to secure a job from within the country. Had I known, I would have applied while living in NYC or Buffalo.
By EM5 years ago in Humans
A Stranger's Smile
I struggled under the weight of two suitcases, a backpack, and a guitar. I had been traveling for twenty-some hours after nine months of living abroad and I was exhausted. As I pushed my cart full of bags through the LAX airport, I dreamed of getting off of my last flight and finally arriving home. I couldn’t believe the moment was so close. So close I could taste it. Nine of the longest, loneliest months I’d ever experienced and I was mere hours from home.
By Katelyn Alexander5 years ago in Humans