What’s my name? What’s my station?

One thing about working at a Cafe in San Blas that specializes in western food is that you meet a lot of travelers. As often as not, they are students on holiday, or just recently graduated. They come from all around. So far we’ve met Netherlanders, Germans, Scots, Brits, Swiss, Norwegians, Dutch, and tons of Australians.

But we’ve also had the occasion to meet several people who fall outside the category of “holiday traveler.” These are people who live to travel. They have sold most (if not all) of their possesions, most of them have some kind of job they telecommute to, and they just travel.

It’s pretty awesome. These people are crammed with incredible stories, travel tips, and just a general aura of badassness. Today I had breakfast in the cafe next to TD and Kim, who saved up a bunch of money and have been traveling for the past two years. For some it seems really intimidating (myself included). Yet there is something kind of amazing about being untethered, a continuous pilgrim.

Kim and TD are coming to the end of their journey. They are planning on being back in the states sometime this fall (because they don’t have jobs, their trip is unfortunately constrained). I asked Kim if she how she feels about re-assimilating into the corporate world. She said what basically amounted to “I don’t know if I can do it.”

If you want to read about Kim and TD’s adventures across the world, check out anotherfuckingtravelblog.com.


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