now it's your turn...
We've told you about our Journeys. Now you can submit your own story, and browse all the amazing experiences of travelers just like you!
We have stories of adventure, culture, and cimple kindness from China, Ecuador, France, Haiti, India, Kenya, Morrocco and Turkey.
If these don't convince you to travel, nothing will!
We have stories of adventure, culture, and cimple kindness from China, Ecuador, France, Haiti, India, Kenya, Morrocco and Turkey.
If these don't convince you to travel, nothing will!
John P.S.
DETERMINED ENTREPRENEURS
Origin Country: USA
Journey Country: China
I spent four months abroad in Shanghai, China for school.
Obviously, there were lots of experiences of China during that time but some of the more memorable were the strange ways (to an outsider) that China demonstrated its entrepreneurial spirit.
All throughout my neighborhood there were little street vendors selling things like noodle bowls, handicrafts, or bootlegged DVDs. These vendors posted up in the middle of the sidewalk and had the same location and regular hours, just like any legitimate business. However, their shops were highly mobile and every once in a while you'd see them roll up all their wares and run off down the road--packs on their shoulder--into the alley-way. They would do this when they'd see the police come down the road. Their little business were technically illegal, but so loosely enforced that it was well worth the small risk.
I asked a few folks about this and the consensus answer seemed to be that China's Communist party doesn't care much about your business until you get big enough to matter. They actually like the entrepreneurship shown by these small businesses, but need to at least make a show of cracking down in order to be consistent.
Ultimately, a strange but efficient policy that seemed to lead to a large number of street-level entrepreneurs. My favorite was the "noodle man" across the street.
DETERMINED ENTREPRENEURS
Origin Country: USA
Journey Country: China
I spent four months abroad in Shanghai, China for school.
Obviously, there were lots of experiences of China during that time but some of the more memorable were the strange ways (to an outsider) that China demonstrated its entrepreneurial spirit.
All throughout my neighborhood there were little street vendors selling things like noodle bowls, handicrafts, or bootlegged DVDs. These vendors posted up in the middle of the sidewalk and had the same location and regular hours, just like any legitimate business. However, their shops were highly mobile and every once in a while you'd see them roll up all their wares and run off down the road--packs on their shoulder--into the alley-way. They would do this when they'd see the police come down the road. Their little business were technically illegal, but so loosely enforced that it was well worth the small risk.
I asked a few folks about this and the consensus answer seemed to be that China's Communist party doesn't care much about your business until you get big enough to matter. They actually like the entrepreneurship shown by these small businesses, but need to at least make a show of cracking down in order to be consistent.
Ultimately, a strange but efficient policy that seemed to lead to a large number of street-level entrepreneurs. My favorite was the "noodle man" across the street.
Frank C
FIVE STAR RATING
Origin Country: USA
Jounrey Country: Ecuador
I had absolutely incredible trips to Ecuador with my family and friends. Ranging from the rainforest to the mountains and everything in between. Ecuador has so many beautiful locations to visit and so many things to do such as going horseback riding, ATVing, hiking, and - my favorite - spending a great time with the people you love in a new incredible place. Highly recommend if you're looking for a place to go.
FIVE STAR RATING
Origin Country: USA
Jounrey Country: Ecuador
I had absolutely incredible trips to Ecuador with my family and friends. Ranging from the rainforest to the mountains and everything in between. Ecuador has so many beautiful locations to visit and so many things to do such as going horseback riding, ATVing, hiking, and - my favorite - spending a great time with the people you love in a new incredible place. Highly recommend if you're looking for a place to go.
Joseph C.S.
MONASTERY IN FRANCE
Origin Country: USA
Journey Country: France
In France, I visited Paris for a day and then stayed at a monastery for a week.
In preparation I studied some basic French but it wasn't much help. What tripped me up was the nuance in the vowel sounds: for example, French has a number of distinct vowel sounds which all sound more or less like the [e] which English speakers use, and a number of vowels which sound "in-between" English vowels. I remember stumbling to understand a Paris shopkeeper as she repeated the simple phrase "6 Euro."
The monastery is located in the province of Indry in central France, not far from Poitiers. It is surrounded by farm country: rolling hills made of a patchwork of vineyards and wheat fields, and dotted with little architectural clusters: a bustle of earth-colored houses surrounding a central church.
The monastery's church is 900 years old. The monks shared with me some stories of additions and subtractions made to it over the centuries, mostly due to damages from war. During my stay there I worked with the monks on such tasks as trimming vines and pulling up unwanted vegetation in the monastery grounds. They fed me and the other guests simple, hearty foods: for breakfast, heavy bread with butter, and a bowl of chocolat-chaud or café au lait; and for dinner, whatever the farm and garden offered. I remember soft-boiled eggs from the monastery chickens, homemade cheese, and fresh pears.
HAITIAN ODYSSEY
Journey Country 2: Haiti
My older sister lived in the Dominican Republic for several years, and when I came to visit her we went on a trip together to Haiti. We were accompanied by an acquaintance of my sister's who was Hatian by birth. We were there for just four days but travelling into and out of the country was a veritable odyssey, and our time there was filled with unforgettable experiences.
We met with complications right at the border. There was much arguing and shaking of heads, mostly in French, which my sister fortunately knew, but I did not. I think they were trying to draw a bribe from us. When somehow we cleared that hurdle, we came up to a big stone arch flanked by barbed wire, which was apparently the entry into the country. Someone had filled it with water so it was a muddy mess 8 inches deep, and there was a swarm of motorcyclists standing by, offering to drive travellers across for exhorbitant fees. I think we walked through the mud, and managed to hire a car and driver on the other side.
My sister's Hatian friend brought us to his home village, where we stayed. Our hosts gave us dinner and asked us to sing American songs. We sang folk tunes and songs we had learned at church. For a shower, they gave me a 5-gallon bucket of water and a cup to pour with, and when I asked to go to the bathroom I was given a little piece of cloth and directed me to the outhouse. They took the cloth back from me when I was done.
Next day, wherever we went, a throng of villagers, mostly children, surrounded us and ogled. They pointed and laughed at my nose which to them looked long and pointy. In the morning we took a hike up to a nearby mountain, and all the way we were met with young girls carrying large jugs of water from a stream at the top of the mountain, back to the village. In the evening we went to a field where a large group of children and teens were playing soccer with a ball made of wadded paper and tape, but the game was cut short when a fight broke out.
When it was time to leave the country we decided to go out through a different way, and to get there we walked through a mountain range. I spoke neither Hatian nor French so I just followed my sister and our other guides, walking when they walked and stopping when they stopped. We woke early in the morning and hiked for many hours through dry, brushy mountain trails. I wore only flip-flops, and there were other Hatians walking with us who went barefoot. In the evening we slept in a single-room hut made entirely of sticks, with a Hatian family.
On our last day, crossing the border back into the Dominican Republic, we hitched a ride on the back of a banana truck. Returned to my sister's village in the Dominican Republic, where the houses were made of cinderblocks instead of sticks and some homes even had electricity, felt like falling in the lap of luxury.
MONASTERY IN FRANCE
Origin Country: USA
Journey Country: France
In France, I visited Paris for a day and then stayed at a monastery for a week.
In preparation I studied some basic French but it wasn't much help. What tripped me up was the nuance in the vowel sounds: for example, French has a number of distinct vowel sounds which all sound more or less like the [e] which English speakers use, and a number of vowels which sound "in-between" English vowels. I remember stumbling to understand a Paris shopkeeper as she repeated the simple phrase "6 Euro."
The monastery is located in the province of Indry in central France, not far from Poitiers. It is surrounded by farm country: rolling hills made of a patchwork of vineyards and wheat fields, and dotted with little architectural clusters: a bustle of earth-colored houses surrounding a central church.
The monastery's church is 900 years old. The monks shared with me some stories of additions and subtractions made to it over the centuries, mostly due to damages from war. During my stay there I worked with the monks on such tasks as trimming vines and pulling up unwanted vegetation in the monastery grounds. They fed me and the other guests simple, hearty foods: for breakfast, heavy bread with butter, and a bowl of chocolat-chaud or café au lait; and for dinner, whatever the farm and garden offered. I remember soft-boiled eggs from the monastery chickens, homemade cheese, and fresh pears.
HAITIAN ODYSSEY
Journey Country 2: Haiti
My older sister lived in the Dominican Republic for several years, and when I came to visit her we went on a trip together to Haiti. We were accompanied by an acquaintance of my sister's who was Hatian by birth. We were there for just four days but travelling into and out of the country was a veritable odyssey, and our time there was filled with unforgettable experiences.
We met with complications right at the border. There was much arguing and shaking of heads, mostly in French, which my sister fortunately knew, but I did not. I think they were trying to draw a bribe from us. When somehow we cleared that hurdle, we came up to a big stone arch flanked by barbed wire, which was apparently the entry into the country. Someone had filled it with water so it was a muddy mess 8 inches deep, and there was a swarm of motorcyclists standing by, offering to drive travellers across for exhorbitant fees. I think we walked through the mud, and managed to hire a car and driver on the other side.
My sister's Hatian friend brought us to his home village, where we stayed. Our hosts gave us dinner and asked us to sing American songs. We sang folk tunes and songs we had learned at church. For a shower, they gave me a 5-gallon bucket of water and a cup to pour with, and when I asked to go to the bathroom I was given a little piece of cloth and directed me to the outhouse. They took the cloth back from me when I was done.
Next day, wherever we went, a throng of villagers, mostly children, surrounded us and ogled. They pointed and laughed at my nose which to them looked long and pointy. In the morning we took a hike up to a nearby mountain, and all the way we were met with young girls carrying large jugs of water from a stream at the top of the mountain, back to the village. In the evening we went to a field where a large group of children and teens were playing soccer with a ball made of wadded paper and tape, but the game was cut short when a fight broke out.
When it was time to leave the country we decided to go out through a different way, and to get there we walked through a mountain range. I spoke neither Hatian nor French so I just followed my sister and our other guides, walking when they walked and stopping when they stopped. We woke early in the morning and hiked for many hours through dry, brushy mountain trails. I wore only flip-flops, and there were other Hatians walking with us who went barefoot. In the evening we slept in a single-room hut made entirely of sticks, with a Hatian family.
On our last day, crossing the border back into the Dominican Republic, we hitched a ride on the back of a banana truck. Returned to my sister's village in the Dominican Republic, where the houses were made of cinderblocks instead of sticks and some homes even had electricity, felt like falling in the lap of luxury.
Camille Quarles
TYING THE KNOT
Origin Country: USA
Journey Country: India
Last year I traveled to India for the first time ever. I went with my husband, John for a friend's wedding. We went to Kerala, which is a tropical state on the southwest shoreline. We took a 12-hour flight via Emirates (my new favorite airline) to Dubai, where we had an eight-hour layover. Since we had time to kill, we explored Dubai visiting The Dubai Mall and the old city market. From there, we had another 3.5-hour flight and 1.5 drive before we reached Kerala. We spent ten days in Kerala meeting new friends, exploring the tropical land, trying lots of new food, shopping in town, feeding elephants and watching two very good friends tie the knot. It was a trip to remember!
TYING THE KNOT
Origin Country: USA
Journey Country: India
Last year I traveled to India for the first time ever. I went with my husband, John for a friend's wedding. We went to Kerala, which is a tropical state on the southwest shoreline. We took a 12-hour flight via Emirates (my new favorite airline) to Dubai, where we had an eight-hour layover. Since we had time to kill, we explored Dubai visiting The Dubai Mall and the old city market. From there, we had another 3.5-hour flight and 1.5 drive before we reached Kerala. We spent ten days in Kerala meeting new friends, exploring the tropical land, trying lots of new food, shopping in town, feeding elephants and watching two very good friends tie the knot. It was a trip to remember!
Jenny Swope
KINDNESS IN CALCUTTA
Origin Country: USA
Journey Country: India
In the midst of a long honeymoon traveling in several countries in southeast Asia, my husband and I discovered that we were expecting our first child. While we were in Calcutta, India, about a month into my pregnancy, I was feeling very nauseous and could no longer tolerate even the smell of the spicy food all around me, and ate almost nothing for fear of not being able to keep it down. One morning, though, I thought I could handle yogurt with fruit, so we went to a small, open place where we could sit at a table and eat. We had not sat long before another wave of nausea sent me running to the nearby street to hang my head over the gutter and wait for what was to come. I was so concentrated on my own plight that I had not even noticed that a small crowd of very poor women had gathered around me and were talking excitedly. When I looked up, I saw that one of them was extending a cup of water toward me, offering it to me. I firmly refused, knowing my stomach could not take even water. But she insisted in a language I could not understand, and in that same language, all the women around her implored me to accept. I refused again, so they began to use signs to explain that they did not want me to drink. Some of them put their hands on their stomachs, indicating they perfectly understood my condition and the nature of my illness. The woman herself made a gesture indicating she wished to pour the water over my head. This time I allowed her, and to my surprise, the mild shock of the cold water somehow made me feel better immediately. I no longer felt sick, and the women around me all smiled with great satisfaction. I thanked them warmly in English while they responded with nods and folded hands and told me in their own language that I was very welcome. I have never forgotten the understanding, kindness and audacity of those women to a traveling stranger.
KINDNESS IN CALCUTTA
Origin Country: USA
Journey Country: India
In the midst of a long honeymoon traveling in several countries in southeast Asia, my husband and I discovered that we were expecting our first child. While we were in Calcutta, India, about a month into my pregnancy, I was feeling very nauseous and could no longer tolerate even the smell of the spicy food all around me, and ate almost nothing for fear of not being able to keep it down. One morning, though, I thought I could handle yogurt with fruit, so we went to a small, open place where we could sit at a table and eat. We had not sat long before another wave of nausea sent me running to the nearby street to hang my head over the gutter and wait for what was to come. I was so concentrated on my own plight that I had not even noticed that a small crowd of very poor women had gathered around me and were talking excitedly. When I looked up, I saw that one of them was extending a cup of water toward me, offering it to me. I firmly refused, knowing my stomach could not take even water. But she insisted in a language I could not understand, and in that same language, all the women around her implored me to accept. I refused again, so they began to use signs to explain that they did not want me to drink. Some of them put their hands on their stomachs, indicating they perfectly understood my condition and the nature of my illness. The woman herself made a gesture indicating she wished to pour the water over my head. This time I allowed her, and to my surprise, the mild shock of the cold water somehow made me feel better immediately. I no longer felt sick, and the women around me all smiled with great satisfaction. I thanked them warmly in English while they responded with nods and folded hands and told me in their own language that I was very welcome. I have never forgotten the understanding, kindness and audacity of those women to a traveling stranger.
Emily C.S.
AN UNFORGETTABLE ENCOUNTER
Origin Country: USA
Journey Country: Kenya
In the summer of 2008 my family of eleven took a month-long trip to Kenya, Africa. There were no cars or vans large enough to accommodate us, so we had to rent a "matatu" which is a large bus, and hire a driver. We drove cross-country in that matatu, listening to Coldplay and Phantom of the Opera (both family favorites now) and snacking on oranges from wooden crates and Fanta in glass bottles. One of my favorite memories was stopping for a potty break on the way to Mombasa, a city on the coast. When we tumbled out of the car, we could see zebras grazing in the tall gray grass close-by, and Mt. Kilimanjaro in the distance. When I crossed to the other side of the bus, I could see Masai men with lean bodies, neck rings and red and white face paint staring at us. I knew they didn't speak English, so I smiled at them. They stared back solemnly, watching us as we did our thing and tossed the orange peels in the scrub to compost. After a short time we piled back inside the matatu and went our way. Even at age 14, I knew that my encounter with the Masai men was an unlikely meeting of two far-removed worlds, which I would never forget and probably never experience again.
AN UNFORGETTABLE ENCOUNTER
Origin Country: USA
Journey Country: Kenya
In the summer of 2008 my family of eleven took a month-long trip to Kenya, Africa. There were no cars or vans large enough to accommodate us, so we had to rent a "matatu" which is a large bus, and hire a driver. We drove cross-country in that matatu, listening to Coldplay and Phantom of the Opera (both family favorites now) and snacking on oranges from wooden crates and Fanta in glass bottles. One of my favorite memories was stopping for a potty break on the way to Mombasa, a city on the coast. When we tumbled out of the car, we could see zebras grazing in the tall gray grass close-by, and Mt. Kilimanjaro in the distance. When I crossed to the other side of the bus, I could see Masai men with lean bodies, neck rings and red and white face paint staring at us. I knew they didn't speak English, so I smiled at them. They stared back solemnly, watching us as we did our thing and tossed the orange peels in the scrub to compost. After a short time we piled back inside the matatu and went our way. Even at age 14, I knew that my encounter with the Masai men was an unlikely meeting of two far-removed worlds, which I would never forget and probably never experience again.
Tessie Castillo
SIMPLE GENEROSITY
Origin Country: USA
Journey Country: Morrocco
When traveling in Morocco, I was on an 8 hour bus ride to Essaouira. Every hour or so the bus stopped so people could get off and order meat sandwiches, which were cooked on open grills by the road. Though I was hungry, I never got off the bus because I didn't want to give up my seat and have to stand the rest of the ride. At one point an old man wearing a Berber cloak got back on the bus after stopping to buy a sandwich. Without a word, he handed his sandwich to me! I hesitated at first, thinking maybe the meat would make me sick, or maybe he had put drugs in the sandwich so I would fall asleep and he could steal my luggage. But I decided to trust him. I told him "Chokran," which means" Thank you" in Arabic and ate it. It was delicious! And nothing bad happened to me. He was just a nice man who probably noticed I was hungry
SIMPLE GENEROSITY
Origin Country: USA
Journey Country: Morrocco
When traveling in Morocco, I was on an 8 hour bus ride to Essaouira. Every hour or so the bus stopped so people could get off and order meat sandwiches, which were cooked on open grills by the road. Though I was hungry, I never got off the bus because I didn't want to give up my seat and have to stand the rest of the ride. At one point an old man wearing a Berber cloak got back on the bus after stopping to buy a sandwich. Without a word, he handed his sandwich to me! I hesitated at first, thinking maybe the meat would make me sick, or maybe he had put drugs in the sandwich so I would fall asleep and he could steal my luggage. But I decided to trust him. I told him "Chokran," which means" Thank you" in Arabic and ate it. It was delicious! And nothing bad happened to me. He was just a nice man who probably noticed I was hungry
Julie Schulte
A PRAYER OF BLESSING
Origin country: USA
Journey country: Turkey
As my husband and I shared our son's wedding celebration in Ankara, Turkey, in 2011, we experienced the beauty and charm of the Muslim faith, firsthand. While helping our 'sixth daughter', Hanife, move out of her apartment so as to begin her life with Daniel, we witnessed the grace and humility of her grandma as she blessed the couple in her own sweet way---Among the conglomerate of items strewn across the floor and bed of Hanife's room, as she carefully sifted and sorted her keeps and discards, we watched her tiny, 4'8" grandma meander through it all, only to then climb upon the bed and somehow seat herself amid the treasures and clothing. As we quietly watched her---all the while hearing Hanife conversing with two of our daughters who made the trip with us---we noticed her mouth constantly moving, with no sound emitted and no concerns for anything but the mission at hand. When I whispered to Hanife my question as to the meaning of her actions, I was very candidly told that her grandma was praying for her! In the very moment of her becoming a married young lady, she and Daniel were being blessed with the deepest wishes of the elders in their midst!
A PRAYER OF BLESSING
Origin country: USA
Journey country: Turkey
As my husband and I shared our son's wedding celebration in Ankara, Turkey, in 2011, we experienced the beauty and charm of the Muslim faith, firsthand. While helping our 'sixth daughter', Hanife, move out of her apartment so as to begin her life with Daniel, we witnessed the grace and humility of her grandma as she blessed the couple in her own sweet way---Among the conglomerate of items strewn across the floor and bed of Hanife's room, as she carefully sifted and sorted her keeps and discards, we watched her tiny, 4'8" grandma meander through it all, only to then climb upon the bed and somehow seat herself amid the treasures and clothing. As we quietly watched her---all the while hearing Hanife conversing with two of our daughters who made the trip with us---we noticed her mouth constantly moving, with no sound emitted and no concerns for anything but the mission at hand. When I whispered to Hanife my question as to the meaning of her actions, I was very candidly told that her grandma was praying for her! In the very moment of her becoming a married young lady, she and Daniel were being blessed with the deepest wishes of the elders in their midst!