hi, my name is kara.
Two weeks after graduating from university in May 2011, I flew to Spain with a one-way ticket and a serious determination to avoid leading a conventional life.
So far, I’ve done a pretty good job of doing just that.
I’ve walked the entire Camino de Santiago Francés, hitch-hiked my way across Ireland, spent a homeless night sleeping outside of a church in Florence, and worked as a bartender in the northeast of Brazil.
So who am I?
Born and raised on the island of Maui, I’ve always had a passion for exploration. Though I’ve only written about a handful of places, I’ve been to nearly 20 countries, with extended stays in Italy, Ireland, Spain, and, most recently, Brazil.
I’m an advocate for slow travel. I believe in quality over quantity. I’d much rather spend 3 months fully exploring 1 country, than the same amount of time running around an entire continent.
At the moment, I live in Washington, D.C. where I work as a tour guide during the spring and summer months, and then pack my bags and live as a pseudo-hippy nomad for the fall and winter. Some of my travel goals for the future include trekking in Patagonia, volunteering in Burma, skydiving in South Africa, and learning at least 5 languages by the time I’m 30.
What really drives my desire for travel is the opportunity to interact with those who come from different places and think different things than I do; I am fascinated by culture, whether it be people, food, or pop. As the only child of two photographer parents, I’ve also got a reluctant interest in photography. And if the name of this blog wasn’t a dead giveaway, I’m a huge fan of e.e. cummings’ poetry.
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond any experience,your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose or if your wish be to close me, i and my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending; nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility:whose texture compels me with the color of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing (i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands --e.e. cummings