Maybe that’s the paradox of a life spent on the road — you lose things, you miss things, and yet you gain something unshakable in return. The distance teaches you that love does not always require presence, that bonds can stretch oceans and still hold firm, and that guilt, though heavy, can be a reminder that you dared to live fully. It is not about having it all, but about choosing deeply, and then standing by those choices. For me, that choice has always been motion, explor

ome brands are conceived in boardrooms, incubated in comfort, and launched with capital. Wandering Monkey was none of those things. It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t budgeted. It was birthed out of restlessness, isolation, and a whisper of hope that somehow, somewhere, I could make sense of the chaos that had followed me since childhood.

The war between those who create the system and those who are crushed beneath it. A war where laws are written to protect wealth, not justic

When you lean into discomfort, you expand your ability to adapt, listen, and appreciate life from a new angle. That cold shower? It’ll wake your soul. That cramped bus ride? It might bring you closer to a stranger who changes your outlook. Don’t chase only the pleasant and curated. Let the messy bits shape you too. Because comfort zones may feel safe, but nothing remarkable ever grows there.

But what happens when that thrill dims? When the sunrises start to look the same, and the spontaneous conversations blur into one repetitive cycle of introductions? What happens when you're halfway across the world, surrounded by beauty, but unable to feel it anymore? No one tells you how quickly novelty can turn into numbness. How the dream can morph into disillusionment—not because you chose wrongly, but because all things, even freedom, come with a cost.

Introduction: The Legacy of Empire As a young boy growing up in Britain, the British Empire was painted as a beacon of progress, bringing...

One of the saddest developments I’ve witnessed is the increasing need to label everything — every traveler, every experience, every identity. Instead of coming together under the beautiful shared banner of exploration, we divide ourselves by race, gender, and background, as if those distinctions define our worthiness or experience as travellers. This fragmentation is not empowering; it’s limiting.

For those of us who live on the road, family is not a fixed entity—it is fluid, boundless, ever-evolving. We are pieces of every person we h

Women should always be held in the highest regard, not just as second-class citizens, but as the powerful, influential individuals they are.

To truly experience the transformative power of travel, stop treating it as a way to “prove” yourself to others. Travel isn’t about accumulating places; it’s about cultivating experiences that matter to you. Slow down. Let go of the pressure to constantly move on to the next destination.