We were rafting down the Nantahala River in North Carolina, soon to brave my first Class III rapid. As I chatted with our guide about the flora visible on the riverbanks, she said, “You know there’s a stand of virgin forest less than an hour from here.” My companions and I would be homeward-bound the next day, but I felt deeply compelled to see that forest. I’ve long held a love for ancient trees.

Imagine it—you’re standing on a precipice, stepping onto a boarding ramp, or diving into depths unknown. How do you feel? Do any of those circumstances conjure a lump in your throat or butterflies in your stomach? When we feel fear, we tend to hold back, to confine ourselves to the safety of the familiar. But the very act of traveling possesses a unique power to push us beyond our limits and help us confront our deepest fears head-on. If you’re willing to tiptoe outside of your comfort zone, you might meet a more fearless version of yourself like I did.

For many people, travel consists of marking off a checklist of famous places. I can’t count the number of times I’ve observed people driving up to a beautiful or thought-provoking site, snapping a photo, and driving away. I’ve done that myself a few times.

I, of course, was not the first to immortalize travel experiences in poetic form. According to The Cambridge History of Travel Writing, poetry is “inseparable from the experience and discursive fabric of travel.” Some of our most ancient texts, such as the Epic of Gilgamesh and Homer’s Odyssey are, in effect, “travel poems”—though they may be of imagined journeys and quests. 

Culture can be explored in many ways — through conversation, clothing, dance, music, and more. As a recipe creator and food photographer, I’m a firm believer that food is one of the most intimate ways to connect with another culture.