All in all I covered over 34,000 miles, and seven countries. Please enjoy this 2014 travel summary!

This post was originally published in 2014. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 

January: Panama, USA

After saying goodbye to a hellish year in 2013, I greeted 2014 near Panama City, where I was house-sitting. I stayed on through mid-January continuing to discover this country of contrast (See also: Panama: A Wild West), before flying to Hollywood Florida to visit a long-time friend.

For a couple of weeks we had a great time catching up, however I was craving some personal space, so I left to indulge in some alone time in Gulfport Florida.

February: USA

The first week or so of February I explored the very pretty town of Gulfport before hopping over to Santa Rosa Beach (Florida) to stay the rest of the month with another long-time friend.

Santa Rosa Beach is one of the most consistent places I’ve visited in all of my full-time travels (having visited the last three years running), and although the weather was cold, the company of my friends was warm and fun.

March: USA, Canada, Peru

A series of very serendipitous events led me from Florida to Peru in March. But in order to get there, I flew up to Toronto for a few days, not only to say a quick hello to my family and friends, but also to catch a mystery shopping flight to Peru, which saved me 50% on the cost of airfare.

April: Peru

April saw me settling into my digs in Peru and discovering the magic of the Sacred Valley. I started off with a five day trek through the Andes ending up in Machu Picchu.

I also got to know the little town of Pisac where I was living, and explored some of the prevalent spiritual opportunities which included receiving the rites of the Munay Ki.

May: Peru

My exploration of Peru continued through May with more Andean treks including the high Andean lakes of Kinsa Cocha, the ancient agricultural lab (or alien landing pad?) of Moray, and the incredible salt mines of Maras.

I also got a strange email from a reader who wanted to move in with me, and I started to learn about plant medicines in Peru such as San Pedro and Ayahuasca.

June: Peru, Canada

After doing one last three-day trek through the mountains to Lares Hot Springs, and making a quick stop in Lima to overdose on ceviche, I left Peru to enjoy summer in the northern hemisphere. Having been on a permanent mission to avoid winter for the last eight years, I’m accustomed to hopping hemispheres according to season (or sticking close to the equator).

July: Canada, USA

For July and part of August, I based my operations in Toronto while visiting family and friends.

I made a quick trip to the Florida Keys where I discovered the magic of Key West and met all kinds of people who visited the Keys and never left.

On my return to Canada, I spent a couple of weeks with my Mum in the cottage country area of Muskoka; a very special place for me with a lifetime of memories.

August: Canada, Spain, Gibraltar, Italy

In August I decided to “pop” over to Europe (via Istanbul) to visit some friends on the south coast of Spain. Having been to Spain many times, I was least impressed with the Costa del Sol, but I nevertheless appreciated spending time with my friends and exploring new places, including Gibraltar.

I capped off my European adventures with a visit to another friend in Pesaro Italy, where I was treated to amazing local hospitality and culture, and home-cooked food so good that I will never look at Italian food (outside of Italy) the same way again. (See also: Living Like a Local in Italy)

September: Peru

After spending my end-of-August birthday with my family and friends in Canada, I returned to a place that resonated me as a new home: Peru (See also: I’m Going Back to Peru: Here’s Why). After a hectic summer travel itinerary, I spent most of September relaxing and settling back into my Peruvian digs. I did get out of the house a few times though(!), including a trip to the Barratio market in Cusco.

October: Peru

I branched out a little more in October, attending a Peruvian wedding, and also making an attempted climb up mount Pachatusan, which ended very differently – but possibly more rewardingly – than I could possibly have imagined.

October also marked the end of a very long battle with lawyers and insurance companies in the aftermath of a near-fatal accident I suffered in Grenada in February 2013. I lost the battle, but in so doing I won my life back. (See also: Cutting Your Losses: Why I’m Losing, in Order to Win)

November: Peru

In November I continued to do work with the various plant medicines of Peru, I did a beautiful walk from Cusco to the ancient ruins of Huchuy Qosqo, and I kept working hard on becoming fluent in Spanish.

I also started planning a two-month trip to escape the rainy season in Peru (January through March), and although my intention was to visit Australia and New Zealand with a frequent flyer mile ticket, I ended up spending $1700 on absolutely nothing – not even flights. But I got over that pretty quickly, when I realized there were even better travel opportunities around the next corner – which you’ll learn about soon.

December: Peru

I laid relatively low in December, partly because my purse was stolen in Cusco, leaving me without any money (other than what I could borrow from friends, which I limited to necessities only). Although I learned a lot from the incident, it wasn’t nearly as painful as I thought it might be, and in fact, I saw more blessings than curses come of it.

December marks eight years since I sold everything I owned in Canada and started my full-time travel adventures, and I spent some time reflecting on this amazing journey that has allowed me to live and travel through over 50 countries. If you’d have asked me 10 years ago where I would be now, my wildest imagination wouldn’t have placed me in the Sacred Valley of Peru with the repertoire of experiences (good, bad, and otherwise) that I now have.

And life continues to change and evolve; with a home base in Peru (at least for now), I’m changing the way I travel and how I work. I have some local focuses here in Peru that are taking more of my time in an incredibly satisfying way; things that I will write about more soon enough, when I find the right words.

Happy Holiday Season, and here’s to an amazing year in 2015!

Other Annual Travel Summaries

2013: 12 Countries and 29,000 miles

2012: 8 Countries and 20,000 miles (video here)

2011: 13 Countries and 73,000 kms

2010: 9 Countries (unknown miles/kms)

My First Four Years of Full-Time Travel (2007-2010)

This post 7 Countries and 34,000 Miles: 2014 Travel Summary appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

My friend’s eyes lit up. She smiled and mimed two big zeros with her hands.

We burst into laughter, while the “itsy bitsy teeny weeny shrivelled little short dick” lyrics continued on and a thousand people gyrated to it, completely unaware of the irony.

This came up because earlier in the evening, another nostalgic song came on, taking us back to our early adolescence.

“Oh my God! Fourteen! We were fourteen!” my friend squealed as she started singing along. Then she stopped, looking confused. “You know, I don’t actually know the words. What are they?”

Growing up in Pesaro Italy, English-language popular music was rampant, but not speaking any English at the time, she and her friends just sang along to the sounds, as did all the people this night who were singing phonetically about short dicks.

Such was my week of bizarre and local experiences in Pesaro Italy.

This post was originally published in 2014. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 

Arriving in Pesaro Italy: Um…Perdono?

I’ve been to (several) dozens of countries, but rarely have I stayed with a local family with whom I’ve not been able to communicate. As such, my arrival in Italy was accompanied by some trepidation, which apparently my host family shared.

I wasn’t totally linguistically isolated; I was visiting a friend who I’d met in Peru (and who speaks perfect English). A fellow nomad of sorts, she was spending the summer in Italy with her parents, who so kindly showed me what Italian hospitality is all about.

“Does she speak Italian?” her parents asked her before I arrived.

“No, pero no problem. Language is unimportant,” she reassured them.

And my friend was right. By the end of the week I had acquired a healthy vocabulary of Italian swear words that were real party-pleasers, and I could catch the gist of most conversations and even say my bit using a combination of Italian, Spanish, and English.

(It helps that Italians are very demonstrative when they communicate; hand gestures and intonations go a long way).

See also: How to Become Fluent in Another Language

Mamma Mia

One of the first things I observed living in and visiting various Italian households is the extent to which Italian mothers run the show. Although we live in a patriarchal world, some people surmise that it’s the women who ultimately call the shots, and Italian culture exemplifies this.

How does Mamma do it? (Read on).

Oh my Sweet Lord…the Food

Italian restaurants exist the world round, but I’ve never eaten anything in an Italian restaurant that even comes close to the things I ate in Italian homes. I was treated to homemade pastas, pizza, prosciutto (yes, homemade prosciutto), tiramisu, and a variety of foods that absolutely knocked my socks off.

I asked what the secret was to all this food I’d eaten before but never experienced as I did in Italy. Mamma replied that the flour in Italy must be different, but I think it was a coy deflection; the secret is in the unwritten recipes that pass from generation to generation of Italian women.

And thus, through the stomach, Italian women rule their households. Nobody makes pasta like Mamma.

…And the Coffee!

Ask for a cup of coffee in Italy – be it in a local’s home or a cafe – and you’ll get espresso. This is a highly caffeinated country; a few times per day, I was offered a tiny cup of high-octane coffee (espresso), which is typically downed in a few swallows. Although I rarely drink espresso (I prefer to linger over a larger drink like cappuccino), I couldn’t deny that every Italian household I visited (and I visited quite a few) knew how to appreciate good coffee.

The Birthplace of Metrosexuality?

At the beachside dance party, I observed something about Italians in general, and especially the men: everybody is incredibly well put together. Coiffed. Primped and preened to perfection. Even if the outfit at hand is ripped jeans and a t-shirt, it hangs on the body with stylish care and a level of perfection that I’ve not observed elsewhere.

I was aware of this stereotype before I arrived in Italy, and I mused to some of my new friends that Italian men must take as long to get ready to go out as women do. “Longer!” was their unanimous reply. “You must remember,” said my friend, “when you live in a country shaped like a boot, you must be fashionable!”

Anywhere else in the world, these perfect-looking men would be passed off as gay. Some were actually carrying purses. Others wore tight brightly coloured pants. And I’m pretty sure I saw some makeup on one or two faces.

Don’t get me wrong – it was truly refreshing to admire the efforts of a beautifully manicured male populous. Metrosexuality, shine on.

Living Like a Local in Italy

I was so blessed by my week of living with an Italian family and experiencing local daily life.

I was invited to children’s birthday parties.

I ate ravioli in Pesaro’s piazzas and wandered through music conservatories.

I attended mass for my friend’s deceased grandmother in a miniscule one-room church in a countryside town of 200 people, afterward sitting outside the pub and drinking Italian liqueurs with most of the town.

I visited the walled city of Urbino and strolled through the castle quarters.

I paid respect to my friend’s grandmother at a minuscule age-old cemetery perched atop a hill surrounded by vineyards and fruit trees, before visiting her spunky grandfather who shared with me his English vocabulary consisting of swear words he learned while serving in the second World War with some Americans at age 17.

And I was given the royal treatment by my friend and her generous parents, who drove two hours to pick me up at the airport, prepared special meals for me, took me around to see some sights, and brought tears to my eyes when it was time to say goodbye.

Grazie, Italy! Your passion for life (and good food, and pretty men) is contagious.

This post Living Like a Local in Pesaro Italy appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!