— my Guyanese grandmother used to say:
you feet too hot.
never stopped moving since.
you feet too hot.
never stopped moving since.
30+ countries·
2008 — present·
Still going
If you ask me where I'm from, I'd say born in Guyana, raised in Toronto, moved to Montreal, reside in Vancouver.
If you ask me where I belong — well, I wouldn't know what to tell you.
That's the life of a walkabout.
Something in my life freed me from an anchored sense of home and nationality. Growing up as a little girl, I never truly belonged to a permanent residence. My address said Victory Valley, but my body moved easily through SilverTown and the back of the Valley, up Blueberry Hill, One Mile, Over the River, and to the Ward.
Most of the time, I got there on my own two feet — but where they couldn't reach, I was jockeyed onto a weary back, towed on the handle of a rusty old bicycle, or sat on a lap in a packed Town minibus.
From Guyana to Canada, the thread remained: every address was a temporary residence — a place to rest yuhself until it was time to pack your traps and go long your way again.
Now, I move freely. The Earth, my address. The world, my nationality. New destinations that keep calling me home.
And when my feet get too hot, I settle myself into a new corner of the earth — and give them time to cool down while I catch a breeze and observe.
Before you know, it's back on road.
Back on roam.
Back searching for home.
With the walkabout soul.
Or what's the point of the trip? I don't travel to watch from outside. I travel to be inside it. The food, the music, the language I'll butcher, the wedding I'll crash, the room where I'm the only one who looks like me. Give in to all of it. That's where the trip actually happens.
30+ countries on file. And counting.
The only moment I'm outside looking in is right at the doorway. Five seconds. Long enough to clock the music, the food, who's already laughing, who's pouring. Then I'm in. The trip never lives on the other side of the glass.
Read the moment. Tap to see the photo on the back.
Nothing says I love St Barths like discovering a Dolce & Gabbana bar 10 minutes before the boat leaves — and dashing for a martini.
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A friend feeling unimpressed with life. His 40th birthday in days. Solution: a blind trip experience. Faked the itinerary to Dublin. At Irish immigration: "Surprise!! Canary Islands!" 3 islands, one with not a clue.
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GT to di bone. Convinced my foster care worker that playing Mas at Caribana was the only way I'd connect with my culture. It's been jump up! ever since. Sometimes a girl just want a taste of Guyana — in a likkle rum and whine. Soca, calypso, jerk chicken and everyting nice.
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Rule No. 1: Never say no to Dubai. An overworked mother escapes mid-pandemic. Quarantine hotels on the horizon. Borders half-closed. She goes anyway.
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What started as a trip to Brescia for a quintessential Italian wedding turned into a run-in with the Mafia — and hiding out in a safe house.
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Been once. Going back for six weeks in July. Bringing the boy this time.
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Carried a birthday cake from Bali to Thailand. Days on the move with it in hand. Found the perfect place to blow out the candle in Rawai — a beach town so small you could miss it. Vibes so good, you'll never forget it.
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A song lands somewhere and the place stamps itself on it forever. These are the ones that stamped.
The long-form dig. Six weeks isn't a trip. It's a relocation. I'm bringing the laptop. I'm writing. The boy gets the lived-in version of his mother — slow mornings, fruit on the table, swims before the heat.
Toronto → Singapore → Vietnam → Bali → home. Two months. You'll know when I land.
Maybe you're looking for a curated itinerary — built around your vibe and your lifestyle.
Maybe you're a brand that wants a real travel voice — someone who has been to the corners of the earth, goes where she doesn't belong, and shows up fully anyway.
Maybe you're a tourism board or destination partner who needs a traveler with purpose — one who brings her son, her perspective, and her Guyanese grandmother's voice along for the ride.
Maybe you're expanding into a new market and need someone who knows what it takes to arrive — not just land.
All doors are open. They all lead to clear skies.
Ready for take off →Press trips. Partnerships. Destination collabs. The next city. Or just to say where I should go next. I read every one.
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