Every journey starts with a single note.

Why I traded my desk for a backpack

It began with a half-empty suitcase and a one-way ticket to Morocco. At twenty-seven, after five years of editing manuscripts in a London publishing house, I realized I was reading more about adventures than having my own. So I traded my desk for a backpack, my daily commute for border crossings, and safety for serendipity.

What started as a sabbatical year became a lifestyle. That first journey taught me that the most profound stories aren't found in guidebooks but in railway carriages, at street food stalls, and during chance encounters with strangers who become temporary companions.

The most transformative journeys are not those that take you to new places, but those that deliver you to new versions of yourself.

In the early months, I kept a simple leather-bound journal—recording not just where I went, but how places felt. The scent of rain on hot pavement in Hanoi, the texture of ancient stone in Petra, the particular blue of twilight in the Andes. These "field notes" became the soul of what you now read here at Nomad Notes.

My philosophy remains unchanged: seek not the most photographed sights, but the most felt experiences. I'd rather spend an afternoon sketching in a local market than checking monuments off a list. I believe in trains over planes, street food over fine dining, and conversation over itinerary.

This space is free of sponsorships and advertisements. What you'll find here is unvarnished, unprompted, and utterly personal—just one wanderer's attempt to make sense of this beautiful, bewildering world through words and images.