Encounters with my fuzzy buddies on the road.

In the two years following my graduation, I embarked on a wandering journey, travelling to different countries and immersing myself in a diverse array of cultures, nature, art, and people, each with their unique stories to share. Yet, there were also encounters and stories that involved adorable furry creatures, no matter the species or size. In various countries and different places, they imparted invaluable life lessons to me.

Doggo Badger

Tofo, Mozambique

06/2021

My second week as a whale shark and marine life conservation volunteer has come to an end. My diving skills have improved this past week, and I can see improvements in my buoyancy and oxygen consumption, thank god my seasickness is finally gone.

I'm now an enriched air diver, and I'm growing more and more fond of each dive. I've seen nudibranchs, manta rays, turtles, whale sharks, giant morays, humpback dolphins, octopuses, and turtles.

However, Doggo Badger is the one I want to write about the most.

we were walking by the seashore on the way back home. The sun was slowly setting, and I found myself lost in the harmony of the sea breeze, the waves, and the setting sun. Dancing all alone in the sea breeze, I completely missed our hotel where we were staying.

Looking back, I saw two shadows, my travel friends Paris and Yining. They kept calling my name, but I didn't hear it since I was so absorbed in my own world. I had walked quite a distance by myself.

At that moment, a yellow dog appeared out of nowhere, with starry eyes and a slightly timid look, gazing at me. I reached out to pet him and said, 'Where did you come from, huh?'. One of his ears was perked up, and the other one drooped down, looking somewhat comical yet sweet, as if he was saying, 'All I want is love.'

I crouched down, cradling his face, and had a little chat with him. He started showing affection to me immediately.

From that moment on, he began following us.

That night, he followed us all the way to our hotel. The accommodations in this coastal town consisted of many wooden bungalows. While we dined by the beach, he lay down under the table at our feet. After dinner, I sat on the floor and said, 'Doggo, it's getting late; you should head home.' Paris mimicked the tone and said, 'Come on, Shikin, it's late; you should go home too,' and we all shared a laugh.

The hotel owner informed us that his name was Badger and he belonged to the neighbouring hotel. However, the couple who owned him had returned to South Africa to have a baby. Despite having asked the doorman to look after Badger, he would manage to slip off his collar and run outside, seeking companionship.

When we were about to return to our room, he stretched lazily and continued following me. I said, 'We're going to the Tofo humpback whale dunes tomorrow at 7.40. We'll see you tomorrow, alright?'

After that, I didn't think twice, just I returned to my room to sleep.

The following morning at seven o'clock, as soon as I opened the door, this little cutie gazed at me with his clear, pure eyes, stretched, yawned, and wagged his tail, as if to say, "Good morning, look, I'm not late."

Badger had slept on the couch by the door, and my laundry, which had just been done by the hotel staff, was placed there. Yes, my clothes were now covered in dog hair.

Badger continued to follow us for another week. When we went diving, he would lie on the beach beneath a coconut tree, waiting for us. Every time we returned by boat, he would be there, a small yellow dot leaping and enthusiastically wagging his tail as soon as he spotted our boat. He was waiting for us! During the lectures on marine life, he would scratch at the door, come in and lie at our feet.

But every time I gazed into his eyes, that pure and unadulterated desire for love made me feel a bit heartbroken. I wouldn't stay in Mozambique forever, so I began to keep a bit of distance. I didn't want him to form a strong attachment to me, fearing he'd be upset when I left, and also fearing my own sorrow.

One day, we needed to go to the ATM in the town centre, which was about a half-hour drive away. Just before getting into the car, we had just finished diving and were rushing to find a driver at the market due to the timetable was tight. I quickly said to Badger, "Badger, we're going to the town centre, it's far and we can't take you with us. Be a good boy and go back to your hotel. OK?"

After saying that, we got in the car.

There were not many options, the car we took was a small five-seater without a trunk. At that moment, it was very cramped. Paris and I squeezed into the front passenger seats, while the other passengers and their suitcases, tables etc etc - were crammed into the back seat with Yining, everyone was not able to move at all, yet it was so funny.

After withdrawing the cash, the driver offered to take us directly back to the hotel. However, as we passed by the market, a sudden desire to buy some fruits struck me. I told the driver to drop me off at the roadside, saying I would walk back to the hotel by myself.

While I was choosing papayas (incredibly cheap, 0.3 dollars for a huge one), Badger suddenly appeared in front of me from seemingly nowhere, wagging his tail with a silly and happy expression.

At that moment, I was surprised, and then my eyes filled with tears. I reproved him softly, "Why are you here? What if I hadn't decided to buy fruit? What if we had gone straight back to the hotel? Were you going to wait here?"

He licked away my tears and nestled into my embrace.

We strolled along the beach, as the sun set, and I continued talking to him.

"Badger, I really like you, you are the sweetest! But I won't be in Tofo for long."

As I spoke, Badger walked beside me, tilting his head, one ear drooping and the other standing, and I wasn't sure if he understood. That day, I came across his owner's page in a Facebook group, and I could sense that they were loving people. Many of Badger's behaviours showed he had grown up in a nurturing and loving environment. This realization put my heart at ease, as I knew he had a home and love. His state of seeking love on the streets wouldn't last long.

Later on, I told the story to our hotel owner, which is I ran into Badger in the local market and I felt sorrow he was waiting for me there, she reassured me, "Don't worry, dear. Badger has been in Tofo much longer than you have, and he knows this little town inside out."

A week later, Badger returned to his own home. Our hotel's owner contacted his owner, who had arranged for a friend in Mozambique to care for him.

I hope Badger remains happy, healthy, and surrounded by love.

Baladi Doggo

Egypt's stray dogs are also known as "Baladi dogs."

In January 2021, I arrived in Dahab, Egypt. It was my first-time solo traveling and marked the beginning of rapid personal growth in my life.

And I encountered a Baladi dog, whom I called "Doggo."

The story becomes even more mysterious.

I rented a tiny hippy studio with a courtyard and a rooftop. From the rooftop, I could see the Red Sea and the distant shores of Saudi Arabia.

One evening, after having dinner and returning home, I found a doggo lazily lounging in my courtyard. I was utterly surprised because I had locked the gate, and the surrounding walls were quite high. I couldn't figure out how he had managed to get in.

I asked him, "Who are you, and why are you here?" He lazily got up, sniffed me, licked my hand, and then went back to sleep.

Well, you go ahead and sleep then, stranger, and I'll head to my room to sleep as well.

At around five in the morning, he suddenly started barking, I opened the door to see what was going on. To my surprise, he flashed into my room, sniffed around, and then ran toward me, and kissed me crazily.

It was 5 a.m., and I still wanted to sleep, so I shooed him out. When I woke up around 8, he was still there, and from then on, every day, we'd go for walks together, but sometimes he would just wander off, follow someone else, or lay in the shade of a tree, not accompanying me anymore. However, regardless of our separate daytime adventures, he was always waiting in the courtyard when I returned home each evening.

One night in February, Dahab experienced a torrential downpour, and my entire house got flooded. It was a night of intense wind and rain, with a leaking roof adding to my troubles. To make matters worse, the power went out, internet was cut off. I sat alone, using the remaining 20% of my phone's battery to provide some light, roosted on a chair and hugging myself while waiting for the rain to stop.

Recalling that stormy night, I was remarkably calm. The absence of the internet and electricity somehow made me feel at ease. There was nothing I could do but patiently wait for the storm to pass.

The flooding that night was severe.

I don't know how much time passed, but eventually, I had access to the internet. Through a group chat, I managed to contact Tiger, that night I went to Tiger's house, carrying all my snacks and condiments. I was afraid that if it was truly the end of the world, although my snacks wouldn't last long, they would still be better than nothing. At that time, we weren't close friends, but later, we became very important to each other.

That night, the sky was a blood-red colour. Tiger and I were using real-time location sharing as I nervously walked through the dark night filled with puddles and potholes. Then I spotted a Bedouin (referring to the Bedouin people, a nomadic group in the Sahara Desert region), who offered to give me a ride.

However, just a week earlier, Tea and I had been deceived by a Bedouin driver. After agreeing on a price, he took us to a mountain with no phone signal and started to demand more money. When we refused, he left us there. We spent hours wandering in the deep mountains, but suddenly, we saw two Beduins on the ground, and we were standing at the edge of a cliff about twenty meters high. Luckily, there was a natural rock formation resembling a hook, and we used a rope to rappel down to the ground. This Bedouin called Dante, turned out to be incredibly kind. They offered us tea and bread and helped us find a car to get back to the city.

I do not recommend getting into a stranger's car late at night, especially after our previous experience. I was scared, but the real-time location sharing was on, and continuing to navigate through the darkness on foot was just as daunting. So, I chose to accept his offer of a ride. I was torn between fearing he might be a human trafficker and worrying that he would overcharge me once I reached the destination.

Upon arrival, he explained to me that he had noticed me struggling to walk on the uneven terrain and had simply wanted to help. He was not a professional driver. It suddenly dawned on me how unfairly I had judged his intentions. However, my initial concerns were not entirely unfounded, considering the importance of safety.

What about Doggo? I tried to call him inside to take shelter from the rain that night, but he had vanished without a trace. During the days I stayed at Tiger's house, I didn't see Doggo.

But one day, after coming back from a dive, I was walking by the seaside, and he recognized me. He went crazy with excitement, rushing over to hug me.

Even more miraculously, three days after I moved to a new apartment, I had never taken him to my new home. Just as I finished cooking dinner for the first time, I heard the sound of scratching the door. When I opened it, there was Doggo! This big fella confidently came in, went straight to the couch, and lay down. I was so surprised! I called him pet him kissed him, but he ignored me as if he were saying, "You didn't invite me to your housewarming? I'm not happy."

Doggo doesn't understand English, and because of him, I learned some Arabic!

February 28, 2021

On the last day of February, today, after my 19th dive in Canyon, which is my favourite number, while diving, I collected a huge amount of trash. I played 'The Sound of Silence' by Disturbed in the car as we headed back. The sound system in this pickup truck is both low-quality and deafening. The road ahead seems endless, with the Red Sea on the left and the desert on the right. Occasionally, I see camels by the roadside. Who are they waiting for?"

The first time I truly listened to this song was during an evening in Kopaonik, Serbia, while snowboarding with a group of friends. That night, we played board games, had drinks, and shared hearty laughter. As we were winding down, Jinhe's playlist happened to reach this song, and the eight of us just sat there, quietly listening to it.

I will always remember those days and nights, snowboarding, spa, conversations, board games... I will remember the snowy landscapes, the sunsets, and the nights we parted ways in Belgrade.

Looking back, my 2020 was quite exciting, and it will only get more exciting for sure.

Our car continues to drive through the mountain and desert, and not for a while, we are back to Dahab, I saw a Golden Retriever wearing a red hoodie on the side of the road. However, it seemed to be struggling to bite off this restraint.

Here's an interesting story: Since I started diving in Egypt, my hair care routine has become quite simple. Those six or seven hair care steps that I used to have, demanding nutrients and smoothness for each hair strand, have now been reduced to just shampoo, conditioner, coconut oil, and then the wind and sun of the Red Sea. My hair has become wild and carefree, strong yet softly supple.

Many of the details I used to care about or things others thought were important, no longer seem to matter.

Dahab feels like a bubble to me, a beautiful bubble that has embraced me with boundless tenderness and taught me one lesson after another.

I'm about to leave and embark on a new journey, East Africa is waiting for me.

January 2022

After eight months, I was back in Dahab at the end of last year. And now, at this very moment, I am once again preparing for a journey, this time to Eastern Europe to reunite with Paris. The experiences I've had in Dahab during this period have been profound and have contributed significantly to my rapid personal growth.

I have made new friends who feel like old companions, encountered a beautiful and romantic love story, explored more diving, engaged in more rock climbing and camping, and collected more stories along the way.

On that evening, just before our parting, Kostya and I went for a stroll through the town after dinner. As we walked, we passed by one friend's home after another. These friends had become like my family in Dahab. Each of us had a spare room in our apartment, but we chose not to live together. We cherished that we were neighbours and friends, yet we all had our own lives and spaces.

Sometimes I would make TongSui (Tong Sui, is a collective term for any sweet soup or custard served as a dessert typically at the end of a meal in Chinese cuisine. ) and then call my friends to come to my home;

Ivy would cook beef noodles and text us to come over;

Tiger's place was a gathering spot for all of us;

Tea invited everyone to his house for board games;

There were diving plans with Scarlett;

And hiking and camping trips in the mountains with Jie and Yiqun;

Or we would take fruit peels to Charli's house to feed the chickens, sheep, and camels.

That night, as we passed by the doorstep of each friend's home, I shared the story of every friend I had in Dahab with Kostya, though some people had already left this town, I felt a sense of fulfilment. These encounters were indeed so precious in my journey and my life.

As we continued walking, we reached the marketplace to buy my favourite mangoes, dates, and pomegranates in Egypt. Just around the corner, I spotted my doggo!

It had been several months since I last saw him. I stood in the street and called out, "Doggo! Doggo! Here!" He fixed his gaze on me, recognized me, and rushed over through veggie shops and people to embrace me with excitement.

Doggo happily walked with us for a while. I was engaged in conversations, sometimes with Kostya, and sometimes with doggo. Doggo followed us for a time, then in the blink of an eye, he was gone. I was used to this about him; he had his own way of coming and going. He could take care of himself, living freely and unconstrained.

I recall a conversation with Gi during Christmas of 2022 in Mar del Plata in Argentina when I shared my deep yearning for my family and the fear of losing them. She introduced me to Kurt Vonnegut's "God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater," which discussed the idea that one's original family can be dysfunctional or easily changed or lost. That's why you're constantly forming new families within your everyday life, wherever and whenever you can.

This prompted me to reflect on whether my quest to establish a "stable community" was an attempt to ward off "loneliness." Doggo provided me with some inspiration, as he seemed to not make a great effort to build his own community; he came and went as he pleased. As Vonnegut also expressed: Even within the family unit, individuals can experience a sense of alienation and loneliness. Familial relationships don't necessarily guarantee emotional closeness or a sense of belonging. Doggo doesn't seem lonely, he seems aware of what is his own belonging. Perhaps he understood that everyone's existence is inherently rooted in solitude. No matter how stable a community you find, no matter how much companionship and belonging it offers, at its core, there's always a sense of detachment or solitude.

Doggo lived in his own world, accompanying and loving himself, occasionally seeking solace in "communities."

During Ivy's farewell dinner, we all gathered at Tiger's house. One friend asked a question, "Would you rather live as a Baladi dog in a place like Dahab, possibly facing troubles, and having to fight or kill for territory and sustenance?

Or would you prefer to be a dog in a developed country, where you have all your needs met, a fixed family, a routine, and lots of pampering?"

Unexpectedly, everyone chose to be a Baladi dog.

On the other hand, Dahab is an animal-friendly village where people lead a hippie-like, nature-close, spirited life, and the animals enjoy the same.

For instance, a hen would unexpectedly appear in my yard. ( I fed her some rice, and the next day, she brought a boyfriend, so for a while, I had two chickens in my yard until I moved.)

Poor car

Neighbour's camel

The photo Tiger took when I went to Charli's home to feed sheep and chicken with leftover veggies and fruits

However, in the natural world, hunger, exposure, predation, territorial battles, and mortality are inherent and inescapable realities.

In early 2021, Tea and Scarlett rescued a newborn kitten. This little one was initially extremely weak, also with traces of paint on her face. She exhibited a strong sense of possessiveness over food and was quite stubborn. To help her grow stronger, Tea and Scarlett named her Mahmoud, a name that is quite masculine ( in my experience, every Mahmoud I've known has been a big tough guy ). After they left, it was Tiger's responsibility to take care of the kitten.

However, when I returned to Dahab in October of the same year, I only encountered her once at Tiger's house, where I took this photo, intending to share it with Tea and Scarlett.

Unexpectedly, that encounter turned out to be a final farewell.

Tiger has an incredibly caring and gentle soul, who, despite witnessing the changes of the world, still holds onto his original love and warmth. His sincerity towards his friends is truly profound, and his home, with its sofas and guest rooms, has offered a sense of home to many travellers. Moreover, he has adopted numerous cats, those little wanderers who have found care, love and comfort in his home. Those cats live like princes and princesses in the kingdom of Dahab's cat empire. With warm nests, fresh food, and carefree lives.

However, Mahmoud seemed to be a free spirit in this cat Kingdom. She always maintained her distance from Tiger's detailed care. It's as if she refused to belong to the concept of home and yearned for the world beyond the courtyard walls.

Mahmoud possessed an adorable character, yet she remained fiercely independent. She roamed far and wide, exploring unknown corners, and was never content with the comforts of "home."

Nonetheless, on some certain nights, when hunger and cold have taken their toll on her adventures, she returned quietly to Tiger's embrace. No expressions were needed; a soft cuddle sufficed, and she found a temporary sense of belonging in Tiger's warm care, not too much, but yet important. Even though she didn't return often, her eyes always revealed her untamed spirit and yearning. She seemed to understand that no matter how far she roamed, this place would always be her shelter. Yet, she also comprehended that this shelter and her longing were two incompatible concepts.

Her departures and returns mimicked the changing seasons of nature. But then, on a night with no warning, Tiger found her body on the road.

He was heartbroken and said she had everything she needed at home, food and shelter, yet she insisted on venturing outside, where danger lurked. Why, he wondered?

Initially, it seemed tragic. But upon reflection, it became clear that she had lived life to the fullest. She wanted to see the world outside and experience the taste of freedom, and she did just that.

As we talked, some of our friends began to feel that we, too, were like Mahmoud, choosing to leave our comfort zones and explore the world.

The experiences and encounters along the way have all been worth it.

In the end, Mahmoud chose freedom and lived life on her own terms.

The Swinging and Solemn Penguin

March 2022, Antarctic Adventure

Originally, there was no plan to go to the Antarctic. At that time, I had just checked out my apartment in Buenos Aires, in the middle of a journey through South America. My life was in a state of transience, with three weeks back in Argentina before I started my Spanish language course. I was contemplating the idea of travelling for two weeks in the southern part of Argentina, as it was the peak season for southern travel at that time. In the last week, I would return to Buenos Aires, find a place to live, and begin a more structured life.

As we crossed the stormy Drake Passage with seasickness, my shipmates took this photo.

As I was searching for a travel destination, I suddenly came across the option of Antarctica. With the fact that my travel companion, Paris, had recently visited Antarctica, she excitedly encouraged me. So, on a whim, I booked a ticket. Who would have believed that a month later, I would set foot in this nearly pristine "paradise" with minimal human interference in the world?

Little Weddell, popped its head out and greeted us from up close.

The journey to Antarctica was an isolated and unparalleled experience. We landed in Antarctica, crossed into the Antarctic Circle, and witnessed the magnificent, tranquil, and pristine natural landscapes. We observed a diverse range of flora and fauna up close, along with their ways of life in the extreme cold. Every day, professional research teams enlighten us with knowledge about the animals, the history, and the geography of Antarctica. Additionally, we made a bunch of interesting and soulful new friends along the way.

Here, the most captivating feature is the ever-changing glaciers. Glaciers form over time as layers of snow accumulate and compress under their own weight, gradually turning into ice. The immense pressure and freezing temperatures cause the snow to transform into glacial ice, creating a glacier, so the glaciers we witnessed have actually existed for thousands of years. One day, we took a zodiac ride, and our guide turned off the engine, allowing us to listen to the air bursts emanating from the ice surface. At that moment, I suddenly realized that some part of the air we were breathing at that very moment was, in fact, gases trapped beneath the ice from thousands of years ago.

It felt like a journey through time, making it all seem surreal.

However, Antarctica faces numerous environmental challenges that have significant and far-reaching effects. For instance, global warming leads to the melting of Antarctic glaciers, resulting in increased sea levels, which pose a threat to coastal areas worldwide. Global warming also affects the region's ecosystems, impacting species that rely on sea ice. Adélie penguins and seals, for example, depend on sea ice for breeding and foraging. As sea ice decreases, these species face habitat and food supply challenges.

There are other environmental challenges as well, including ozone depletion, pollution, invasive species, tourism impact, overfishing, and more.

However, it is encouraging to note that as awareness of the ecosystems in the Antarctic region grows, international organizations are working on protecting its wildlife by signing a treaty banning civilian or commercial harvesting of marine life.

Furthermore, Antarctic tourism and research teams often provide environmental education lectures on the ecosystems and wildlife, with strict rules governing tourists' behavior. This helps us better understand the areas we are visiting and encourages us to take sustainable actions to minimize negative impacts on the environment.

Antarctica became a part of me after this visit, and I felt a greater sense of responsibility for the ecosystem.

As we stood on the deck of the ship, watching Spert Island gradually fade into the distance, with the sunset casting its glow upon the mountains, I felt a lump in my throat. Also, when we witnessed seals swimming around our zodiac, the playful interactions among the sea lions, and when we observed ten-ish humpback whales up close on Paradise Island, it was as if I had stepped into a paradise in reality. Here, we encountered the pure and adorable Snowy Sheathbills, who would have thought these little cuties fed on penguin chick regurgitation and faeces for sustenance? We saw fluffy, not-yet-moulted penguin chicks that were surprisingly larger than their parents, constantly begging for food from their moms (or neighbouring aunts). We witnessed the dejected penguin thieves who had their stolen pebbles discovered, and the solemn "wall-facing" ritual during their moulting period in this extremely cold environment. We observed the relentless efforts of penguin parents to protect their chicks, as well as the heartbreaking moments when some were snatched away by skuas.

Penguins wobbled, and occasionally slipped, but always walked with determination on their "penguin highway" – this was their civilization.

In the end, I want to express my special thanks to the friends I met in Antarctica, also who shared their precious photos.

It suddenly reminded me of the experience on the African savanna, where we witnessed the grandeur of nature and the wildness of animals. We saw bloody carcasses, and lions gorging with their gaping maws, and witnessed the scars of a survival zebra, the circling vultures, and the alert hyena. When a young antelope wandered the savanna in search of its mother, we all knew its fate was cruelly sealed, yet we couldn't intervene in the laws of nature.

I believe that every one of us harbours a connection to the animal world, and we can still sense these animal instincts in our modern lives. The instinct for survival drives us to seek food and water, seek shelter, and ensure safety. The urge to mate attracts us to others for various reasons, making us desire to get closer, closer, and even closer. The instinct for social connection drives us to create various concepts of "community." The instinct to explore pushes us to bravely pursue the unknown. The parental instinct leads us to unconditionally love and protect another life. Aggression, competition, and territoriality are all too common among nations and in the pursuit of self-interest. But sometimes, in the midst of the information overload and fast-paced life, we seem to overlook our deep-rooted connection with animals.

While participating in a volunteer wildlife conservation project in Africa, our team leaders shared crucial information with us. The ecosystems of the African savannah are under threat, primarily due to habitat loss, as well as issues related to illegal wildlife trade and poaching. Furthermore, climate change presents challenges to both wildlife and local communities, including rising temperatures, frequent droughts, and erratic rainfall patterns.

Nevertheless, what's heartening is that we also heard some positive news. Many conservation organizations, wildlife protection groups, and local communities are taking measures, including education and the implementation of explicit regulations, to safeguard the ecosystems of the African savannah.

Another thing I adore while travelling is the exploration of the underwater world. Whenever I submerge myself, the surrounding chaos seems to fade away. I feel enveloped by water, a tranquil and serene inner self, a sense of safety and completeness. I become weightless and at ease, like a daughter of the water, carefree, no longer entangled in the meaning of life's existence because this moment is all I need.

After I started diving, I also became aware of the challenges facing our marine environment. I witnessed the fading coral reefs, the presence of plastic waste on the seabed, and instances of marine animals mistakenly ingesting plastic. As I strolled along the beach, a marine environment researcher informed me that the colorful specks in the sand were remnants of decomposed plastic products. All of this left me astonished that I had been largely unaware before.

In fact, there is so much we can do. We can conserve energy, engage in recycling, reduce single-use plastic consumption, support sustainable products, lessen our participation in fast fashion, get involved with environmental organizations, or take part in local community initiatives. Sharing these actions and experiences with those around us who may not be aware can make a significant difference.

The underwater world resembles an aquatic garden, where coral breathes gently in the waves, and various fish species live freely. Whether it's majestic creatures like whale sharks, tiny but exquisite nudibranchs, or my favourite "Octopus Teacher," swimming alongside them or quietly observing is a form of unspoken, intuitive communication. At the same time, the underwater world serves as a vivid historical museum. For instance, in the Red Sea of Egypt, there's a British cargo ship called the "Thistlegorm" sunk by German bombs during World War II. We had the privilege of diving into this sunken vessel, exploring its cargo of missiles, kitchenware, cars, motorcycles, and even a toilet, all tangible remnants of a bygone era, truly awe-inspiring.

When I look back at past photos, I relive many memories of my travels. While the experiences of staying in five-star hotels, using private car services, or joining tour groups are comfortable and easy, they rarely appeal to me. I prefer taking public transportation, wandering through alleys and streets, exploring how locals live their lives, how their cuisine is prepared in local markets, and using translation software to converse with shop owners about recipes. I enjoy immersing myself in nature, listening to the sounds of the natural world, and listening to my own inner self. As I revisit photos and flip through old diaries, I once again experience the emotions and insights of those moments, the instances that made me feel insignificant, the experiences of cultural differences, the connections forged with beautiful and interesting people, and the stories with furry creatures.

Key West Camping

Experience 12 hours African minibus, chickens and sheep were also on board, and the neighbouring lady squeezed me that I couldn't even move.

Never missed any local market in small towns.

My favourite Taco spot in Tulum (because they are extremely generous in giving me Nopal, the Catie )

When travelling in Africa, I always visit the local markets to purchase fabrics, and then I seek out a tailor to make dresses for me.

Attending and assisting at my friend Amr's wedding in Egypt.

(I'll write about the detailed wedding and cultural differences that I experienced in another blog post).

I believe that all of this is the essence of travel.

I initially set out to write about some dogs, but my life has always been intertwined with numerous other animals. Grateful for every journey and each encounter, and I'm thankful for these fuzzy buddies who have enriched my journey, fostering greater empathy and offering a fresh perspective on our world.

they have shown me in their own unique ways how to:

- Connect with nature.

- Knowledge of who they are and what they want.

- Adapt to their environment.

- Interact with their own kind, other species, humans, and all living beings.

Each life is exceptional, weaving its own narrative in the tapestry of nature. We humans are just one humble and minuscule presence among them, like specks of dust.

I extend my gratitude to every life connected with mine.

Thank you for accompanying me on my journey.

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Thank you for reading this far

See you next time