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A funny reminder popped up on my phone today. I wrote it eleven and a half months ago and scheduled it for noon today, and since that time I haven't thought about it once. Yet somehow, I've obsessed over it every single day. I remember writing it like it was yesterday, and now I want to share it with you.
But before I tell you what it says, I need to divulge in its very important backstory. You see, all of the thoughts, the ideas, the emotions that are aroused by that note lay the foundation for what the past year has been. And to explain why this year has been such an important one, I need to first tell you about its first twelve days.
One year ago today, on September 3, 2014, I had made a commitment to my Facebook network. I committed that I would be launching something new, my most recent project, and that it was in the realm of travel.
I held a simple hypothesis:
Though we all wish we could travel more, we often need a push to actually go.
And that hypothesis became the basis for my new project, which was just as simple: A website that would post one inspiring travel video per day; no more, no less. It would be the place you go when you're on the fence of whether you should take a trip or not and, if I executed it well, it would tip you onto the Go side of the fence. I bought the domain
But here's the thing about that project: I didn't love it. I had had a difficult time finding travel videos that fit my strict requirements, and even when I had my assistant Abbey spend a few afternoons searching, she came up largely empty-handed. When I looked at what I had and asked myself, "Would this inspire me to travel?", my answer was no.
The decision was made for me. If I didn't believe in my own project, I couldn't deliver it to others. So, on the morning that I had promised hundreds of people that I would launch my brand new travel venture, I had nothing to offer. I needed to create something new.
Now, I have a few rules that I employ equally strictly in business and in general life.
First, every exchange should involve a mutual increase in value. This is seen clearly from a transaction point of view - if the buyer and the seller in a transaction aren't both better off by transacting than not, the transaction doesn't happen - but less clearly from a personal point of view; for example, if you don't enjoy spending time with someone ie. you are not gaining value by being in their presence, you should be ruthlessly efficient in your efforts to stop seeing them. By the same vein, I would expect that if I stopped creating value for others, they should stop seeing me. The prevailing thought: never enter an interaction if you're not prepared to both create and accept value.
My second rule is that every person is just one person, not many. What I mean by this is that everything that we do - the things we say on social media, the way we act in public settings, the way we communicate in private - all sum into our one holistic being. Given that, it's of supreme importance that every action we take is rigidly in line with that one person that is ourselves; we cannot be one person one day and another person the next. This reminded me that if I had promised something and then canceled last minute, as I was poised to do, that I was embedding adjectives like unreliable and untrustworthy in others' minds, and rightfully so.
So with these two rules in mind, I knew that I had to deliver something and that it must be of high value. So I did what I normally do in such circumstances where I want to create but am not sure where to begin: I started writing.
[Aside: Don't worry, we're still moving toward the reminder on my phone - this is all necessary for grasping the significance of that reminder.]
A few days prior, I had been reading some blogs about using Aeroplan points to fly cool places really cheaply. Naturally, I logged in to Aeroplan and started messing around, but what I found surprised me - though the amount of points required to fly somewhere was always constant, the amount of taxes and fees that needed to be paid varies hugely. It became pretty clear that the airline was the critical factor determining that variable price, so when I searched online to learn more about which airlines were cheap to fly with and which were expensive, I couldn't find anything.
"Why was no one talking about this??"
I decided that I would be the one to bring this small yet extremely mighty piece of knowledge to the forefront, which was the magic that would fuel the deals in my resulting blog post. But there was a problem: this specific method only worked for people with frequent flyer points. So how could I ensure that my audience both a) was interested in flying cheaply, and b) had the frequent flyer points they needed to capitalize on this newfound knowledge? Enter American Express.
It's no secret that credit cards give out massive points bonuses for signing up for their card, so I found the best American Express card for Canadians, which gives new customers 25,000 points and is completely free for the first year. 25,000 free points. Combine that with my new method for maximizing the value of those points and I could help a lot of people to fly for next-to-nothing.
And then it became even sweeter. I realized that if I referred people to that American Express card using my own card's referral link, I would get a 10,000 point bonus for each person I referred. So this is what the final equation looked like:
Tons of people would be extremely happy about flying around the world for next-to-nothing;
I would be extremely happy about helping so many people to travel and having a nice stock of points for my own travels.
That's a lot of happy people.
So here's what I came up with. I called it
That blog post, still intact and unchanged, is what I delivered as my travel project on September 3, 2014. I had zero plans for it beyond it being something cool, and even though I use words like "beta", that was really just my way of saying "If what I deliver sucks, it's because all the kinks haven't been worked out yet." I never intended to start a company; I just wanted to make something awesome.
But before I go any further, let's take a second and revisit why we're looking at all this.
Have you ever noticed how rare it is to get an in-depth account of how something started? Sure, people will tell you the things that they want you to believe about their past, but they very rarely go in-depth about how the thing in question actually began. Yet founding moments are extremely unique, profoundly beautiful, and retrospectively instructive. If you're like me and have never asked your parents about the first moments of when you were born (try to focus the conversation more on the thoughts and emotions of the event, not all the icky stuff), do it - you'll probably learn more about love and parenthood in that single conversation than you normally do in a year.
And already in this story, what you may have noticed is something not many founders are willing to admit: Yore Oyster was an accident. There was no eureka moment, no long-term plan, no idea where it would go. If anything, it was my own personal shortcomings that took it from an idea into a living, breathing thing: if it weren't for my obsession with pleasing and impressing others, my inner need for external gratification and social acceptance, I may have just launched the video website Yore Oyster 1.0 and called it a day.
"If anything, it was my own personal shortcomings that took it from an idea into a living, breathing thing: if it weren't for my obsession with pleasing and impressing others, my inner need for external gratification and social acceptance, I may have just called it a day."
And yes, there is a larger agenda at play here than me simply telling you the story of Yore Oyster's founding moments. In twelve days, on our official one-year anniversary, we're launching something brand new. I'm really excited about it, and I think you're going to love it too. But for you to get the full value from it, I want you to understand the thoughts, emotions, and experiences that have led to its conception. Unlike Yore Oyster itself, this one has been a year in the making.
So that's why I'm writing this story, designed to walk you through our founding moments in real-time (one year removed of course). You'll receive new bits of the ever-growing story in your email inbox over the next twelve days, which will be sent in intervals corresponding to how things actually happened. I'm going to show you how it feels to go through the ups, the downs, and the terrifying unknowns of starting a company. And hopefully along the way, you'll gain an understanding of how I make decisions, what motivates me, how I get into the press, why I isolate myself when social interactions would solve my problems, how I deal with stress, what scares me, and a lot more.
This is the end of today's story, but a lot more behind-the-scenes things have taken place that I haven't yet touched on. Tomorrow we're going to take a deep dive into those things, and you'll start to see how my mode of thinking shifts as I'm put under an increasing amount of internal and external pressure. And of course, we're still moving toward the ultimate question: "What's the reminder that appeared on my phone today, and why is it so important that I've obsessed over it for the past year?"
See you tomorrow.
P.S. If you aren't already subscribed to my email list to get these updates,
A few days ago, I started telling you the story of the founding moments of my flights company, Yore Oyster. Fittingly, I call its story Founding Moments and First Impressions, which is a testament to the importance of the first decisions that a company makes. Those decisions display an infinite amount about the company founder(s), and they set the precedent for the remainder of the life of the company.
But even though I talk about these things in terms of a company (or "project", as I'll use in this piece of the story), the lessons are applicable far beyond the realm of business. And as you'll see in this post, where we discuss everything from city layouts to the rise of Justin Bieber, having a solid understanding of where you've come from and where you're going is just as critical in life as it is in business.
I hope you enjoy this one. If you do, do me a favor and
It's September 8, 2014, and the last few days have been slow.
Yes, my email list is still growing. But I can see its trajectory, and it's not good. A few hundred people per day were signing up 48 hour ago - now it's more like a few dozen per day.
If I don't do something drastic, the pipes are going to go dry. And what happens when the pipes go dry and you're trying to launch a business?
So today, I'm going to flick the switch.
I'm going to shoot for some press.
Now, I place a lot of importance on how things are timed when launching a new project. I always want there to be enough time for everyone to hear about it, but not so much time that they lose interest. I think if we plotted excitement about a given project on a graph, with excitement as the vertical axis and time as the horizontal axis, it would look like this:
There are two important components to this graph. The first is the height of the excitement line at any given point in time. As you'd expect, the excitement line starts at zero, rises as more and more people hear about your project, and then dies off as it gets replaced by other news items. In this graph, point A represents the maximum amount of excitement reached by your project, which you would calculate by taking the total number of people that have heard about your project and add up their collective excitement levels at this current moment. Some people will have already lost interest, and therefore don't add much to point A's height, but all in all, this is when things are buzzing the most.
The second important component is the area under the excitement line, which represents the aggregate amount of excitement from all people over a time horizon, which means that, by definition, as time goes on, the aggregate amount of excitement always increases because it includes both the present level of excitement and the past level of excitement. [I'm assuming excitement is a positive-only attribute, and any sort of "negative excitement" attribute is ignored.]
Looking at the first graph, you might think that the best time to launch is at point A, or when you hit your maximum excitement level. Look at how many people are at their peak excitement level! Everyone wants to know right now! But you can't launch at point A. It's impossible. Because when you're actually standing at point A, the excitement graph looks like this to you:
You expect the excitement level to keep going up, and you only realize that you've hit point A once you're actually past it.
So you have no idea when you're at point A, but even if you did, it's still a bad idea to launch then. Why would you launch when you think you're still going to get a bunch more attention? Instead, you want to launch at point B.
Look at all the additional aggregate excitement you've captured! (the red area plus the blue area, instead of just the red area). Point B makes so much more sense.
Talking about all of this with graphs is pretty boring though, so I'll explain this using something slightly less boring than a graph.
Your project is a car driving down the street in an unfamiliar major city. The section where the slope of our line is extremely high is called A Avenue, since your car is approaching point A. A Avenue runs right through a busy, fast-paced part of town, so when you drive down A Avenue, a lot of people see you driving and get excited. They start
But without realizing it, you hit point A and all of a sudden you're driving on B Boulevard. B Boulevard goes through a slightly less busy neighborhood, but instead of the people being surprised when you drive by, they've been expecting you - their friends on A Avenue tweeted that you were coming, so the people on B Boulevard are sitting on their porches and balconies waving at you as you pass. Sure, it took them a bit longer to see you, but they're still excited nonetheless.
That's why you never launch at point A. Not only do you have no idea when you actually reach point A, since A Avenue merges seamlessly into B Boulevard, but if you did, you'd miss out on so many excited people by not driving down B Boulevard.
Doesn't it make sense? You're accepting slightly lower peak excitement (point A vs point B) for a far greater aggregate excitement (area A vs area A plus area B). And while peak excitement is largely the determinant of how many people mob you when you finally step out of the car, aggregate excitement brings much more tangible benefits: more early signups, more overall exposure, and a larger customer base. And aren't those the things you really want in the long-run?
But still, after all that, why am I explaining my theory of gaining attention for a new project?
Because today, I'm flicking the switch.
There was no particular reason why I thought today was a good day to flick the switch. If anything, it's because I was scared that I had driven past B Boulevard onto C Crescent, and no one likes to be on C Crescent. So I flicked the switch. Here's how I did it.
A few weeks prior, I had been in the press for a project unrelated to Yore Oyster. I made sure that each of those stories did extremely well, knowing that if I wanted media coverage again in the future, the same writers would be open to writing about me again. Instead of going in cold and trying to explain why my story would be a good one, I could say something much more like, "Remember me? I was the subject of your most-viewed story of the past 6 months. Want to chat?"
Here's what that looks like exactly:
Pretty simple, right?
Perhaps too simple?
That's what I started to think as the hours passed and I hadn't heard back from the writer. Maybe my story isn't that interesting after all? Maybe I should just accept that I'm on C Crescent? Maybe I should forget the whole thing?
No. Never accept yourself to be on C Crescent. C Crescent is where projects go to die.
And you don't want to die.
But there's something important in my seemingly irrational frame of thinking.
Even while I had hundreds of people talking about what I was doing, even while I was personally in love with what I had in front of me, even while everything from the outside seemed to be going just peachy - I thought about packing it all up and going home.
Because this is how the human brain works. And if you haven't seen it first-hand, let me illustrate with a perfect analogy: the teenage pop star.
Substitute whoever you like into this analogy, but I'm going to use my favorite teenage pop star: Justin Bieber. Most people think I'm kidding when I tell them I like Biebs. I'm not kidding. His music is great. Ya, seriously.
But swap him out for Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, Michael Jackson, Amy Winehouse - they all work equally as well.
Here's how the story goes.
Bieber gets discovered early. Usher finds him on YouTube when the dude is something like 15 years old, and makes him a superstar immediately. I can't stress how quickly this happened; all it takes is a single tweet from Ush for The Biebs to go from regular kid from small-town Canada to international heartthrob.
So for Justin, all of a sudden he and Usher are driving down A Avenue, and they're going fast. It's gotta be scary for a kid without his license to be driving at any speed, and when he's going that fast, he's bound to make a mistake or two.
But amazingly, he makes it all the way down A Avenue, and all of a sudden he's alone on B Boulevard (Usher jumped out a while ago). For Justin, A Avenue was really long, so it took him a couple of years to make it all the way, but, just like everyone else, he eventually makes it to B Boulevard at some point.
But B Boulevard is a lot different from A Avenue for Bieber. There aren't quite as many screaming girls on B Boulevard, and there aren't quite as many other artists waiting for collaborations. People still wave at him when he drives by, but they no longer chase after his car like a dog that's had one too many Milkbones. All in all, for someone who just spent a few years driving down A Avenue, B Boulevard seems like a pretty dire place.
But let's take a step back. If we look at B Boulevard on our graph again (remember, it's the area between point A and point B), Justin is still at the height of his career when he's on B Boulevard. Sure, maybe things are going a bit more slowly than they were on A Avenue, but all in all, anyone in the world would kill to be on J Biebs' B Boulevard.
This isn't how the human brain sees it, though. The brain, which constantly uses comparisons in order to make sense of complex information, compares itself to the subject at hand. So while the rest of the world's brains are doing their jobs and are comparing J Biebs to themselves like Wow, Bieber has everything, he must be an idiot to do some of the stupid stuff he's doing!, his brain is doing its job and comparing its past self to its current self and thinking Wow, I used to be way up at point A and now I'm on the way down. My career must be over.
And when people think their career/relationship/business/life is over, that's when they start to make mistakes.
This frame of thinking isn't something that's unique to Bieber, or teenage pop stars as a whole. This is a fundamental human problem, and one that we all need to understand, regardless of whether we become pop stars or not. We beat ourselves up over the imaginary perils of B Boulevard all the time, but there's no reason for it.
Understanding the relationship between A Avenue and B Boulevard is one of the keys to human happiness.
At this very moment one year ago, as I'm having second thoughts about everything while waiting in agony for this writer to get back to me, this is what my situation would've looked like on a graph.
I wasn't on B Boulevard at all - I was on Y Boulevard. I thought that I had already hit point A, but really, I had just hit a local maximum point X. That's like going to New York City, taking the 3 train to 242nd St., and thinking you're at Times Square.
In other words, it's called being naive.
A lot of times we think we've hit point A, but we've actually just hit point X, and it's the internal struggle we have driving down Y Boulevard that makes us not want to strive to reach A again.
But if we simply change our thinking, realizing that Y Boulevard is nothing to be scared of and that every time we think we're at point A we're probably just at some random point X, then all of that goes away. We can continue striving for higher As, and we won't mind driving down the Boulevard because we know that there's another Avenue around the corner.
I'm sharing this with you now because I wish I knew it a year ago. It would've spared me a lot of pain. But at the same time, I don't expect you to believe me about any of this, because I wouldn't've believed someone if they told me this was how things work.
Because we all look at people like Bieber and say If I were in his shoes, I wouldn't be doing all that stupid stuff. But I don't think that's true. I think that if I were in Bieber's shoes, I would've made the exact same mistakes that he has. Maybe now that I know about Avenues and Boulevards I'd be able to do a bit better, but the fact is that when you're on a Boulevard, it's extremely difficult to remember that another Avenue is coming around the corner. All you see on your map is one Crescent after another, and a city full of Crescents is not one you want to drive through.
Our brains aren't wired to make us feel good; they're wired to make sense of complex information as quickly as they can. Sometimes that works in our favor, and sometimes it doesn't. The trick for us is to recognize our cognitive shortcomings and create strategies to combat them. If we do, we can have our cake and eat it too.
B Boulevard isn't all bad - that's where you want to launch your project from, after all.
But if we refuse to adapt to how our brains actually work, and continue to live delusionally with the belief that our thoughts are serving us in such a way that will make us happy, we're destined for exactly the opposite.
When I was taking this ride down the Boulevard one year ago today, all I wanted to do was find another Avenue.
Luckily for me, I did.
And tomorrow morning, you're going to wake up to the story of how I found it.
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Yesterday, we chatted about A Avenue and B Boulevard, and why an understanding of the two is just as critical in life as it is in business.
But we still don't really understand how Yore Oyster went from being a small fish in a big pond to a, well, a slightly bigger fish in a slightly smaller pond.
Today, you're going to learn how a single Facebook message got me a boat load of attention for my still-secret flights business. But more important than that, we'll look at how you can do the exact same. If you like this story,
I had found my Avenue.
And I found it in a big way.
As you know, one year ago from yesterday I reached out to a reporter I had worked with before with the following message:
I sent that message at 10:42am, but as the hours passed and the afternoon turned into evening, I started having a lot of second thoughts about whether this was going to work at all, or if reaching out was even a good idea. But no matter - the message had been sent, and I could only wait.
So after a few hours of driving down the Boulevard (if this analogy confuses you, you need to go back and read
Or so they said. But when a few more hours passed and the story still hadn't been published, I thought that maybe they had re-evaluated and decided against running the story. After all, I'll be the first to say that a job as a reporter is tough; they're required to churn out new material under near-impossible deadlines with everyone from accounting to social media constantly breathing down their neck.
But it was late, and I was tired after a long day of driving alone on the Boulevard. So I went to bed.
The great thing about time zones is that when you're sleeping, stuff is happening.
So when the writer I had been speaking with actually hit Publish on the article, I was none the wiser. Instead, there I was, getting some innocent beauty sleep in my Toronto apartment.
In fact, I actually slept in that next morning because my phone had died overnight. Why would it die overnight? I was confused. That is, until I plugged it in and turned it on.
For several minutes straight, I was harassed by the familiar notification "ding" denoting a Twitter mention. One ding, or even a few consecutive dings, is understandable, but when you line up several hundred of them in a row, it sounds like winning the lottery. And in some ways, it kind of was.
Of course, you can guess what had happened: the story had gone live in Vancouver just minutes after I had fallen asleep, and while I enjoyed my slumber, the Twittersphere had blown up talking about Yore Oyster. I spent the next 2 hours lying in bed reading, answering, and laughing at the tweets that had come in until I finally caught up and could answer them as they continued to pour in in real time. One of them notified me that Yore Oyster had been trending on Twitter; several others were people asking for jobs. Despite how things looked from the outside, I didn't have any idea of what to do with myself at that point, let alone what I could possibly ask someone else to do.
Anyway, that was a lot of fun.
But it still doesn't help us to understand very much. You'd think that I just woke up one morning and that things were jolly and grand.
So why did it actually work?
A few reasons.
First, reporters are under extreme time and results pressures, so they're often forced to look for the quickest route possible to complete a story.
So what do you when someone you want to work with is in dire need of something high-quality right now?
You give them something high-quality. Right now.
Look at my message again. I hand the writer a story on a platter and say, "Here. This already has thousands of views on my own blog and people are excited about it." For a reporter, that's gold.
But that brings up another characteristic of journalism: writers want social proof that a piece is going to be popular.
Well, more accurately, marketing people want social proof that a piece is going to be popular, since a popular piece means more readers, and more readers means more ad revenue, and more ad revenue means a bigger bonus.
Social proof is critical.
So when I say my story has received thousands of views, has resulted in an email list of 500+ people, and most importantly, will be published in other publications that afternoon, that's exactly what a writer wants in a story. The story is going to be big, but it hasn't been broken open yet.
Didn't I just finish explaining that I was driving down the Boulevard at this point? There weren't actually any other publications that were going to publish the story, right?
So does that mean when I said that, "The story is getting into a couple of blogs/online publications this afternoon," that that wasn't true?
OMG. Jordan is a liar.
Well, not quite.
The funny thing about that statement is that it's kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy. If this writer ran the story, I knew that it would also get picked up by other media, which meant that the social proof component was true. But if they didn't run the story, none of it would matter anyway.
The story ran. And other news outlets came calling in a big, big way.
As for the writer? I handed her two of her biggest stories of the year. So ya, she likes me.
Okay, so what does this tell us about getting into the press? Two things:
And that's why my message worked.
So there I am, lying in my boxers, answering tweets with a few thousand people thinking I'm some genius kid ready to deliver the best thing since sliced bread.
But right there, in the back of my head, the real story is playing itself out.
For now, anyway.
I'm not fucked because I have nothing to deliver; I'm fucked because as each additional person hears about the story, as the proverbial fish gets larger and larger, the real fish needs to grow proportionally in size as well.
As expectations rise, the only natural thing to do is to improve the thing that's holding those expectations.
For once in this crazy process, I knew what I needed to do.
I needed to build a website. A good website. A website where people would go, be impressed, dance around a little bit, and then eventually leave.
But there was a problem: I had no idea how to build a good website, or any website for that matter. I'd seen website things before and they looked gross (picture the black computer screen with green text that they ironically still use at Best Buy), but I always thought being the "business guy" would be enough of an asset to allow me to do the things I wanted to do.
I was wrong. Dead wrong.
And if you're placing a bet on yourself that you're going to be successful - however you define it - by focusing on a single craft your entire life, take this as a warning that that's not how the world works.
One day you're going to wake up obsolete.
And when the only thing you have to your name doesn't matter anymore, that's when you've reached a Crescent. Remember what happens when you drive down a Crescent? That's right. You die.
So with that decided, I turned off my phone (reporters were calling), put on some pants (some people do that), and got to work.
If there was any chance this was going to work out, the next few days were going to be a grind.
Since I spent the next few days toiling away trying to build a website, I won't be writing about it as much. That said, I can guarantee you that the next time you hear from me, things are going to look a lot different.
P.S. If you aren't already subscribed to my email list to get these updates,
As you know, I've been documenting the first 12 days of my travel company,
It was September 15, 2014, but I remember it like it was yesterday.
I was all jitters. Nervousness had replaced any shard of excitement. I truly had no idea what to expect. As with all big reveals, it could be received extremely well or extremely poorly.
And the past 12 days had been a whirlwind.
So when I pressed Send on that email to a list of over 10,000 people, I was scared.
Scared that I wasn't going to live up to their expectations.
Scared that what I had built wasn't good enough.
Scared that a mistake now would have long-lasting consequences.
I'm actually not going to talk much about Yore Oyster's first breaths - the events that transpired after I hit Send - because most of it is public on Twitter and Facebook. But it wasn't positive. Much of the press that had come after that initial article had stretched the story to a level far beyond my reach, and though the press can't be blamed for that (making extravagant speculations for news that is yet to be revealed is part of their job, after all), I had been led into a lion's cave. And at the time, I didn't have the prescience to see otherwise.
So I wasn't in the best mood on launch day. The thing I had slaved over for the past two weeks had been received horribly, and extremely publicly. I felt embarrassed without reason, and though I tried not to take the criticism personally, it's difficult when the thing being criticized feels so integral to your self.
So, with the feeling of my world crashing down around me, I sat down on my bed and wrote myself a reminder scheduled for September 3, 2015, one year from the original conception of Yore Oyster. It said:
"Have you made travel better yet?"
That's it. That's what has kept me going for the past 365 days. That's the phrase that I've been working toward every day, and slowly, very slowly, I've been coming to an answer.
Great things aren't built in two weeks. For me to expect myself to have solved the problems of thousands of people in 12 days was not only unrealistic, it was unfair to myself. Without realizing it then, I was embarking upon a long-term journey, not some short-term sprint.
And one year into that journey, I'd venture to say that yes, for a select group of people, I have made travel better. I've enabled Kaitlyn to come home from teaching English in Thailand and visit her family. I've helped Kathrin and Carlos to enjoy a honeymoon abroad. And I've helped Carly, Jenn, Nathan, Elizabeth, Angus, Kaely, Sylvia, Josh, and hundreds more to have a little bit more freedom on their jet-setting vacations.
And saving money on flights is great, so Yore Oyster will continue to do that for people around the world, but at our core as people, what we're really looking for day-to-day is a human connection. A single moment of connection, be it with a loved one or a stranger, in our broader day can make a world of difference. I think we can all attest to the impact a smile from a stranger can have at the right moment.
So that's where How I Travel comes from. Come and learn from people who have deeply explored the world, and in so doing have deeply explored themselves. These are the world's most interesting travelers, and their stories are unique, beautiful, and humanly powerful.
And by the same token that great things aren't built in two weeks, really great things aren't built in a single year. So I hope you'll have patience with me as I continue down this path. As you should in your own life, try to see things for what they can be, not what they are now. Remember, it's all about one thing:
Making travel better.
Thanks for joining me on my journey. It hasn't been easy, it hasn't been smooth, and it's been far from predictable.
And it's been worth it every step of the way.
I hope you enjoy