I spend around two hundred days a year on the road. Not on assignment, not on anyone’s account. It is simply the shape my life has taken.
Every journey is planned by me and paid for by me. There are no sponsors behind these pages and no press trips. What you read here is what I witnessed, and what I made of it afterwards.
I have always considered myself more explorer than tourist, and I still go where the itineraries run out. What has changed is my belief that hardship is part of the bargain. It isn’t. Travelling alone, as a woman, I have come to see an exceptional hotel not as indulgence but as what keeps a long journey intact. I have an unapologetic weakness for them, and for the rare chefs whose cooking alone justifies the flight.
What draws me back is wilderness and the animals that belong to it, but just as much the people who have held on to their own way of living. Some of my most memorable days were spent among communities whose traditions are still entirely their own. Crowds and nightlife I happily leave to others.
Africa holds my heart, Tanzania and southern Africa above all. In Asia it is Japan first, then Vietnam and Tibet. In South America, Chile and Argentina stayed with me long after I had left.
I would rather spend on one place that is genuinely hard to reach than on ten that are merely convenient. Remote regions and World Heritage sites seldom come cheaply. It is a trade I make without hesitation, and I have yet to regret it.
So far I have visited 133 countries and territories. The list of what remains is still long.
The stories collected here go back to 2009. Many of those places have changed since. So have I. Choose one and begin.
Inez