literature

Travel literature includes guide books, travel memoirs and the curious experiences that happen when you seek adventure.

Travels With Uncle Nate
Branded with now scrubbed away ink, but forever carved into the Formica countertop: “Keep Portland Weird,” raced a divergence of imaginations as I deliberated the poet’s purpose. I’d never been to Portland, still, my mission there was indeed weird.
By Jay Redmond5 years ago in Wander
The Lost One
The air was getting thinner the longer that Brice climbed the Broken Peaks, Twin spires of rock and snow that stretched high above the clouds. Bird’s occasionally squawked or the rock would slip beneath his feet but that was the only noise aside from the wind that greeted his ears.
By Jeremy Stillwell5 years ago in Wander
Vanitas
“…And may he forever rest in peace. Amen.” The stillness of mourning filled the cold air, the sounds of sobs barely making their way through the steady rain that fell from the November sky. It was the afternoon of my grandfather’s memorial service, the suddenness of it all still sinking in even as I watch the casket get lowered into the earth. Weeks before he was his same old chipper self, dancing around as well as his aging body could allow to the tunes of his earlier years and then one morning - as I made my way over to his estate in at Champions Farm in West Sussex - I found him in his favourite armchair with a book in his lap, cold as ice. At first it had appeared he had fallen asleep in that chair, as was common for him to do, but as circumstance had it, this time was different.
By Spencer MacLeod5 years ago in Wander
Hush; It's a secret.
Tonight was going to prove to be a life changing moment for me without my realizing just how utterly changing it was about to become. It was a night like no other, one where I had decided to enjoy being in my own company, despite the weatherman calling for a possible change in the current conditions as well as usually only going out in the presence of friends. I found my motivation, gathered my thoughts, grabbed my house key and off I went to a local pub to sit in silence for a short time to ponder my life and those in it or where my future might be trying to take me these days. The walk was a short one filled with chaos on the streets and plenty of traffic to keep my eyes whirling trying to see everything in the short 10 minute walk I was embarking on. I rounded the corner, caught a glimpse of my final destination and breathed a sigh of relief knowing I could escape the street noise I had just walked through. As I entered and found a quiet spot to be alone at the bars end, removed my jacket, hung it on the tip of my chair back, ordered up a dirty martini with extra olives and quickly took my first sip. The pub was rather empty except for the bartender and a couple of business men sitting at a tall round table off in the back corner. The men seemed to be minding their own business and had been completely oblivious to my arrival. Their voices were a bit muffled, yet could be heard echoing under the soft music playing in the background. Every now and then I could almost make out a sentence or two and before I knew it, was paying more attention trying to tune into their conversation than I was to my own thoughts I originally wanted to sort out. As these men continued to talk, it peeked my interest as to what they were conversing about, maybe more so due to feeling relaxed from my drink or for not having a care in the world being all alone on this particular night. As I sat sipping on my drink, time began passing quickly and soon the weather began to change from what started as a clear comfortable night, into being a little cold, windy and damp. I wanted so badly to know what the objective of their secret conversation was among themselves, so I decided to use the bathroom that was approximately six feet directly across from where they had been sitting all night. Funny how pub bathrooms are a bit more sound proof than I had remembered in my younger years, as I stood behind a closed door trying to pick up on any clues they left to be heard. Sadly there was not going to be any shred of info to cure my thirst for being nosy, so I finished my little rendezvous in the bathroom and walked out. In that short amount of time in the bathroom, less than a three minute time lapse, the men were gone! I just stood in silence in an empty doorway a bit miffed at not filling the void of piecing together their reasoning for being at the same place as me on this random evening. But I collected my thoughts as I stepped fully out of the bathroom and began to walk past their table. As I passed where these men had been sitting, I took one last glance back still pondering their conversation like an unsolved mystery. Then it happened. I spotted a little black book under the chair that held the man whose back was against the wall. Perhaps it had fallen out of his pocket when he was putting his jacket on and he was not aware of it being left behind for me to stumble on. I was in shock and not fully sure of what the contents held or if there would be any information for returning it to it's owner. My heart began racing as I flipped it open to the inside cover looking for any info to aid in it's return. Sadly, there were no names of people, just names of financial institutions and what seemed to be code words and numbers; lots of numbers. Every number was a large amount and they each began with a dollar sign. What could this possibly be, I wondered as I thought silently about handing it off to the bartender before quickly drowning that thought with one of not keeping my mind spinning on figuring out what I just found and how it might impact me to know what those men were up to. I soon snapped out of the moment, turned toward the door and as I peered outside, noticed the weather quickly becoming more intense than when I left home. I knew I had a little walk ahead of me in uglier weather than at the start of my night, so I easily made the decision to decline on one more drink, tucked the little black book into my inner jacket pocket as I put it on and zipped up, walked past the bartender saying my farewell and heading home. I suppose being left to my own company and no one left in the pub to occupy my curiosity any longer, my choice to leave was a much easier one than normal that night thanks to having this new book in my clutches peeking my curiosity.
By N F5 years ago in Wander
Money at the end of the Rainbow
It was such a cold and windy day. My car broke down on an empty road going around a turn. When my husband was alive, he told me that I would have to continue checking my oil in these old clunkers. We were never able to afford a new car. I knew it was leaking, but I continued to drive it and not check it out of laziness. Well, it caught up to me.
By Dawn Vecchio5 years ago in Wander
Finders Keepers
The lake was large, with brown water, algae everywhere growing on the rocks beneath long enough to reach the surface and the ducks paddled across racing against the cold breeze. People hurried along drawing their coats close to them, afraid that the wind may get in. I was busy looking around enjoying the bitter air when I slid on the mud underneath falling to the ground and that's when it caught my eye. Right by the shoreline a glimpse of a corner, something metal, hidden in thick green grass. I thought I was seeing things but at a double glance, it was confirmed. It was a long key with something hanging off it. It was rusty and old I didn't know how long it had been there for.
By Willow Peddy5 years ago in Wander
Run Away Home
Just days after they had taken her, Saurah began planning. She decided to go back to the farm. Her heart ached for father and mother; she missed the big barn and her animals. Her goodbye had not been a goodbye at all. She had been torn from her place in the world, and now she would go back. She did not believe her parents had left her, something had happened, and she would find out what.
By Sherry Wessel5 years ago in Wander
Drinks with the Prince
There are more bars per square mile in Gloucester City, New Jersey than any where else in the United States. Heck found the emptiest, shittiest one and sat by himself with is back to the door.
By Antonio5 years ago in Wander
It All Started With the Owl
It all started with the owl. To be the last person on earth is a bit funny actually. I’m the best photographer, the best hiker, the smartest person in the world. Or the dumbest.
By Abigail Haven5 years ago in Wander
S'more Please
Who’s to say a barn owl isn’t a s’more? Imagine silence. A silence that only comes in the wildlands right before the world starts to wake up. The down in your sleeping bag provides tremendous warmth and protection from the outside elements, but it’s not enough to protect you from your own bladder. With a sigh you slide out of your cocoon and reach for the zipper on your tent, but a rustle on the outside stops you.
By Louise Altman5 years ago in Wander
Morphed
The young straggler moped cautiously across the rickety wooden bridge towards what looked like a tavern surrounded by ominous mist. Each step felt like an eternity for what was but a simple movement for most, was starkly difficult for the traveller. Iris had wandered many plains across countless months to reach this place but was still yet to know the meaning behind her journey. Deep within her, she knew that this experience could only hold the answers that she had sought after within her infra consciousness for all these years.
By Katie Kinnear5 years ago in Wander
Under the Cedars
Creased green bills of cash. An exchange of hands with a stranger. Careful not to touch his hand awkwardly as I let go of the coins and they clink and grind against each other in his palm.
By Trevor H5 years ago in Wander