50 articles

Travel has a way of unravelling us. It stretches our boundaries and expands our horizons, but in the movement, we often lose the steady pulse of our daily rituals. After eight months on the road, I’ve realised that protecting your practice isn’t about rigid adherence to a schedule; it’s about finding the spaces that help you return to yourself—the ones that feel less like a workout and more like medicine.

Sometimes, stepping away from everything you know is the only way to truly see it.We all have places we’ve outgrown, or thought we had. The home that once felt heavy, the routine that seemed suffocating, the four walls that turned into a mirror for our restlessness. But what if it wasn’t the place holding you back? What if it was what you carried inside it?

When I set out on what I half-jokingly called my adult gap year, I had a very clear picture of what I was chasing. I wanted adventure. Something new every day. A change of scenery. Access to incredible things for my photography.

There are people in our lives who remind us to play; the ones who make you want to cartwheel on the beach, run along the sand, or balance, laughing, in a rock pool in warrior three. On my Koh Samui retreat, there was one such person: Bronte.

There are places in the world that make you feel whole, grounded, and deeply nourished, and there are places that quietly take from you, chipping away at the equilibrium you’ve worked to cultivate. It can feel as though the culture of a place seeps through your skin, shaping your energy and attitude before you’ve even noticed.

Most people go to Thailand for the temples, the history, the food, the colour and chaos. There’s something for everyone, from family adventures to the wild nightlife of Patong. But for us, at least on this visit, it became something quite different.

Sri Lanka is often painted as a tropical dream, with endless beaches, warm smiles, and jungle adventures. But beyond the postcard moments lies a raw and untamed beauty that asks you to slow down, adapt, and embrace its imperfections. This isn’t a trip that always runs to plan, and that’s where the magic begins.

Sri Lanka’s magic isn’t found in a rush. It reveals itself slowly — in the curve of a coastal bay, the shadow of an elephant at dawn, and the mist that clings to tea hills. This route takes you from the island’s sunlit shores through its wild heartlands and into the green embrace of the hill country.

Kuala Lumpur, a city that served as a stopover en route to Sri Lanka, could be the gateway to something extraordinary. A city where colonial architecture meets sleek skyscrapers, where incense drifts through ancient temples just blocks away from air-conditioned malls, and where the rhythm of a Southeast Asian metropolis pulses beneath every step.

Yes, I’ve been to some incredible places over the last few months. But what I’ve realised is that when you don’t have a “home” to go back to, or more importantly, no clear end date, even the most remarkable experiences begin to feel… normal. And normal, when stretched too long, loses its magic.

Four months ago, I packed up my perfectly curated Melbourne life, placed it neatly into a 3x3 storage cage, and boarded a one-way flight. Since then, I’ve travelled through Bali, Vietnam, Cambodia, Kuala Lumpur, and Sri Lanka, with Thailand just around the corner.

There are places in the world that don’t just ask you to visit—they invite you to feel. Cambodia is one of those places. Thick with memory, gilded with devotion, and humming with life, it offers a kind of travel that moves beneath the surface. This isn’t a country for rushing through. It’s a country for pausing, listening, and letting the stories rise from the land itself.

A reflection on slowing down, shedding layers, and returning to self through travel. There’s this idea we’re sold, that travel should be a rush. To see the world is to move quickly from country to country, ticking off iconic sights and staying “on the go.” I thought that energy would sustain me.

I used to believe I was a good traveller. Curious. Kind. Conscious. But as I moved through the villages of Vietnam, past rice paddies, crumbling temples, food stalls, and families, I was forced to reckon with a quieter truth. I have always been a privileged traveller. And with that privilege comes a responsibility.

There was a time when wellness travel felt like a luxury reserved for the few. A distant dream of remote retreats, all-inclusive spas, and Instagrammable jungle sanctuaries. But something has shifted. Wellness is no longer a destination; it’s a way of travelling, of seeing, of being. And now, it’s becoming more accessible, more intentional, and more beautifully human.

Once known as Saigon, this city doesn’t sleep. It pulses with ambition and creativity. Motorbikes swarm like schools of fish, cafés buzz with conversation, and remnants of French colonialism linger between steel skyscrapers.

The Mekong Delta is a tapestry of rivers, rice fields, and resilience. Life here moves to the rhythm of the water, and travellers who venture south are rewarded with a glimpse into a Vietnam both ancient and alive.

Hoi An is a soft dream. The Old Town is a perfectly preserved trading port that once connected East and West. Japanese, Chinese, French, and Vietnamese influences converge in the yellow-walled buildings and winding alleyways that glow with lantern light at dusk.

Perched high in the Truong Son Mountains, Ba Na Hills feels like a page from a storybook. First developed by the French in the early 1900s as a hill station, today it’s home to an eclectic mix of European-inspired architecture, gardens, and one of the world’s longest cable car rides.

Da Nang is a city of contrasts, a place where modern bridges arc over dragon-shaped rivers, and sleek cafés sit beside ancient temples. Once a French colonial port, now a booming coastal hub, Da Nang offers both energy and ease for the slow traveler.

Tucked between the Bach Ma mountains and Lang Co Bay, Lap An Lagoon is a lesser-known marvel of central Vietnam. The brackish water reflects the sky like a mirror, especially at low tide when a narrow sand path emerges across the lagoon.

Hue was once the imperial capital of Vietnam and the heart of the Nguyen Dynasty (1802–1945). It’s a city built on poetry, perfumed rivers, and stories of royalty and resistance. The Perfume River, named for the blossoms that once fell into it from orchards upstream, cuts through the city’s soul.

Located within Marble Mountain near Da Nang, Am Phu Cave, translated to "Cave of Hell" is a symbolic journey through the realms of Buddhist belief. It offers a deep dive into Vietnamese spirituality, portraying both Heaven and Hell with vivid, eerie sculptures.

Ninh Binh is a quieter soul in northern Vietnam — a patchwork of rice fields, rivers, and limestone cliffs that echo the shape of Ha Long Bay, but on land. Known as the ancient capital of Hoa Lu, this region has an energy that invites slow travel and quiet awe.

Ha Long Bay, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is a place of mystic beauty and stillness. Over 1,600 limestone islands rise from the emerald waters like scattered pearls from a dragon's breath. Legend says a celestial dragon and her children descended to protect Vietnam, breathing jade and jewels into the sea to create this bay—a story still whispered by locals.

There’s a certain beauty in packing not just clothes or chargers, but your rituals. A yoga mat, a journal, snacks that feel good, shoes that let you walk for miles — these are tools that shift travel from hectic to healing.

With grand plans of spending three months in Vietnam, we secured a 90-day visa, packed our lives into suitcases, and left the bliss of Bali for the cultural mosaic of Vietnam.

Or, what happened when I threw out the itinerary and finally listened to that quiet inner voice. This isn’t an anti-blog. It’s not a rebellion against to-do lists, or a rejection of all the amazing things Bali has to offer. It’s simply an invitation to do things your own way.

We’ve been in Vietnam for 12 days, and I’d be lying if I said it’s been plain sailing. After the peace we found in Bali, this rhythm of packing up and moving every 4–5 days feels tedious. There was something grounding about our daily yoga practice there, something magical in the stillness that gave our time structure and soul. Now, without that anchor, we find ourselves drifting, disoriented and restless.

Hanoi is loud, fast and beautiful, but it can also be chaotic, overwhelming and, at times, a little stressful. There’s a price we travellers pay for seeking out the kind of energy that feels different from home. The rewards are rich, but they don’t come easily.

We’ve spent 12 days here in Vietnam so far, and it’s an exciting, stimulating place, full of contrast, colour, and sensory overload (especially as a vegan). Here's how we’d break it down into a 7-day itinerary for anyone wanting a curated yet immersive experience.

Why Slow Travel in Bali Changed Everything. After the privilege of visiting Bali five times, I’ve realised we no longer need to chase the tourist trail. We’ve already ticked off the temples, the beaches, the day trips. So this time, we chose to stay still. We let Bali show us something else entirely: a slower rhythm, a different kind of magic.

Today, as we stepped out of the beautiful, sun-warmed space that is Alchemy in Ubud for the final time, we were handed a goodbye gift. Completely unexpected. Entirely unnecessary.

Ubud isn’t just a destination; it’s an experience—a place where time slows, where nature and culture intertwine, and where every moment invites you to be fully present. Known as Bali’s cultural and spiritual heart, Ubud offers an escape from the rush of modern life, drawing you into a rhythm that feels intentional, unhurried, and deeply connected.

I have been in Ubud for three weeks now, and thanks to an extended visa, we get to stay for another 30 days. It might seem unusual to settle in one place during a gap year, but in many ways, it feels like we’ve moved here—at least temporarily—to rest and recalibrate. This gap year is not just a break from work but a departure from the world I used to inhabit. The transitions between countries won’t be rushed; moving every week would be unsustainable. Instead, we are easing into a rhythm, embracing a slower, more intentional way of being.

Ubud is more than just a destination; it’s an experience—a gentle yet profound unfolding of self through nature, movement, and food. A place where the scent of incense lingers in the air, where the rhythmic chants of a nearby temple echo at dawn, and where each meal can feel like a ritual of nourishment. Among Ubud’s lush landscapes and vibrant wellness scene, plant-based cuisine flourishes. Whether you seek raw vitality, indulgent comfort, or a sacred culinary experience, these five vegan eateries offer more than just food—they connect to something more profound.

There’s something undeniably magnetic about Canggu. What was once a sleepy coastal village flanked by rice fields and quiet beaches has, in recent years, transformed into one of Bali’s most sought-after destinations. It’s a place where modernity and tradition dance in a delicate rhythm—where surfboards lean against temple walls, and coconut trees shade MacBook screens in bustling cafes. The energy here is palpable, a blend of creative ambition and deep, unhurried presence. It’s no wonder that expats, digital nomads, and wellness seekers have flocked here in droves, drawn to its effortless blend of work, play, and self-exploration.

Yesterday, I attended a Balinese purification and blessing ceremony with Tri Desna in Ubud. While the full impact of letting go may take days, even weeks, today, I feel lighter. Rested. Unburdened. Even in the midst of a gap year—a time meant for freedom and exploration—I had unknowingly packed emotional baggage alongside my travel essentials. We all do.

Bali has a way of calling to the soul, whispering through the rustling palms and the rhythmic crash of waves. It has become one of the most recognised destinations for yoga in the world, drawing seekers from all walks of life to its lush landscapes, sacred temples, and serene retreats. But what is it about this Indonesian island that makes it such a magnet for yogis? The answer lies in a powerful combination of culture, spirituality, and natural beauty.

The first week of my adult gap year has arrived, and with it, a sense of liberation I never knew I needed. I sit quietly in a hotel, my entire life packed into a 3x3 box. Why do things hold such meaning for us? We save up, we buy, we collect, we part with them—yet in the end, isn’t it the people, the experiences, and the moments that define our true sense of home?

Vestrahorn, one of Iceland’s most iconic and photogenic peaks, is a must-see for any nature lover or adventure seeker. Known for its dramatic black sand dunes, towering mountains, and ever-changing weather, this breathtaking landscape offers a unique opportunity for exploration and photography. Here are some essential travel tips to make the most of your visit:

Solheimajokull is one of Iceland’s most accessible and visually stunning glaciers, making it a must-see for anyone visiting the South Coast. With its ice formations, deep crevasses, and proximity to iconic attractions like Skogafoss and Reynisfjara, Solheimajokull offers a unique opportunity to experience Iceland’s raw natural beauty up close. Here’s everything you need to know to make the most of your visit.

Gjain is one of Iceland’s most enchanting hidden gems, a serene oasis tucked away in the Þjórsárdalur Valley. Known for its lush greenery, cascading waterfalls, volcanic formations, and tranquil ponds, it feels like stepping into a secret paradise. Here’s everything you need to know to make the most of your visit to this beautiful, lesser-known location.

The Northern Lights (Aurora Borealis) are one of the most magical natural phenomena in the world, and Iceland offers some of the best viewing opportunities. While the auroras can be seen from various parts of Iceland, the northern regions, particularly around Akureyri and the surrounding areas, provide some of the most stunning views. Here's everything you need to know to experience the Northern Lights in Iceland's north:

Travel is so much more than the destinations we reach—it’s about the emotions that arise, the connections we foster, and the way these experiences stay with us long after we’ve unpacked. When I think back on my most cherished journeys, I realise what makes a place truly unforgettable isn’t just the beauty of the landscapes or the moments captured on camera. It’s the deeper, more intangible essence—the way these places touch our hearts and awaken something within us.

Iceland is a destination that promises awe-inspiring landscapes, from cascading waterfalls to volcanic craters, glaciers, and geothermal wonders. This 10-day Iceland Ring Road itinerary in early winter is perfect for those seeking a winter adventure filled with breathtaking views, hidden gems, and unique experiences.

An adult gap year is a chance to step away from your day-to-day life and embrace everything you wished you'd done before university or entering the workforce—except now, you have the benefit of experience, wisdom, and (hopefully) some savings on your side.

Glacier Lagoon (Jökulsárlón) is one of Iceland’s most mesmerising natural wonders, where ice, water, and towering mountains come together in a breathtaking display of nature’s raw beauty. Whether you’re visiting for photography, adventure, or quiet contemplation, this guide will help you make the most of your journey.

An early winter visit to Iceland was the catalyst for many things, one of which is itching to see more incredible things around the world beyond the cities and sites that populate our Instagram feeds. Iceland is like venturing to another planet; it is secluded, quiet, raw, and breathtaking. As I return to Australia from Iceland, I have changed everything, and as I fall into the distraction of my next trip, I wanted to share my top 10 sights.

When planning our adventure in Iceland, I wish someone had just given me a list of places to stay— even if it wasn’t the exact hotels but the location of their evening stops as a point to focus o. Soo here it i:, all the hotels we stayed i, and some general thoughts on them.