100 Countries and More: A Life Measured in Journeys

I never set out to count the number of countries I visited. But when my passport filled with stamps from Uzbekistan—my 100th nation—it felt like more than a number. It was a milestone, a quiet celebration of curiosity, courage, and the simple act of stepping into the unknown.

Sri Lanka was my most recent stop, and leaving it only deepened my longing to keep exploring. Travel, for me, isn’t about achievement. It’s about investment—an investment in knowledge, growth, and understanding. Each trip compounds my curiosity, expanding my sense of wonder about the world and my place within it.

I’ve always believed that museums, marketplaces, and even mountain trails are classrooms. Through them, I learn about humanity in all its colors and textures. I listen to the stories of people I meet and even to the silent lessons of landscapes—the way the wind shapes the dunes, or how the roots of an ancient tree hold memories of the earth.

My journey began not just with a suitcase but with a search for meaning. I grew up navigating family challenges that could have defined me, but instead they taught me resilience. I learned that trauma doesn’t have to limit life. Strength, imagination, and conviction can create a world without boundaries.

Borders are, after all, imaginary lines—political inventions that divide what nature never intended to separate. I’ve spent my life crossing them: walking through the outback of Australia, connecting with tribes in Ethiopia, tracing the sands of Saudi Arabia, trekking Uganda’s impenetrable forests to meet silverback gorillas, and diving into the turquoise waters of the Galápagos to swim with turtles.

Across 104 countries, I’ve seen how small our planet feels and how vast its beauty truly is. The faces and places change, but the essence of humanity does not. Everywhere, people long for the same things—love, compassion, connection, adventure.

People often wish me “safe travels,” but I’ve come to believe that staying still is far riskier. Life was never meant to be safe—it was meant to be lived fully. We get only one act, and I intend to fill mine with color, movement, and awe.

Travel is my passion, my education, and my greatest teacher. Over the past year, I’ve added two new languages to my journey—Egyptian Arabic and Russian. Alongside English, Korean, and Spanish, they allow me to do more than navigate—they let me connect. Language opens a door into culture, revealing history, humor, and heart. It’s through words that we begin to understand the rhythm of a people and the soul of a place.

I don’t know where the road will take me next. But I know this: every journey, whether to a bustling capital or a quiet village, reminds me that the world is infinitely generous to those who seek to understand it. And as long as there’s one more path to follow, one more story to hear, I’ll keep going—curious, grateful, and wide awake to the wonder of it all.