I’m delighted to present an exclusive sneak peek book excerpt into my new travel memoir ‘Backpacker to Nomad’
What’s Backpacker to Nomad? It’s my new travel memoir, chronicling the evolution from naive newbie to full-time traveller through my adventure & misadventures.
Backpacker to Nomad overview:
Trapped with a lunatic pilot en route to a deserted Island in Australia where a cold hard reality hits like a freight train…
Unknowingly scaling active volcanoes in New Zealand with harsh consequences…
Experiencing a euphoric natural high in the heartlands of Jurassic Laos…
Long-term British budget backpacker, Amit, shares fifteen humorous yet thought provoking travel stories of adventures, discovery and despair from his ‘take the rough with the smooth’ journey from naïve backpacker to nomad.
Through the thrills and spills of his early calamitous struggles with solo travel, comfort zones are smashed, crippling fears are faced, there’s the odd brush with death, face off’s with wild animals and the reality of long-term travel life hits hard. While life is always on hand to throw spanners, this remarkable never-ending journey feels like living in an alternate reality.
Amit provides a unique perspective on life, his mentality, shows the transformation he undertakes and reveals why he cannot return to ‘normal life, in this travel memoir sure to fill you with wanderlust and laughs.
Book Launched: July 27th 2022
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Sit back, grab a snack and enjoy …..
Backpacking sydney: a new reality overview
It was simple, experience the greatest moment of his life in this new reality, stick to the iron clad plan he arrived with, nothing could deter him from it. There was however one little problem for newbie British backpacker Amit – life! It was never simple.
Backpacking Sydney: A new reality!
The rustles coming from the thick foliage beneath the iron spiked fence would normally have scared the living daylights of me. However, tonight, the potential of snakes, giant spiders, lizards, baby dinosaurs, and who-knows-what-else lurking didn’t matter. All that mattered was that my feet were firmly on the concrete ledge with my hands gripped tight around the fence’s rusty spikes. My ear-to-ear smile was evidence that he came through—it was the perfect spot.
Anticipation, which had grown throughout the day, was reaching the climax, so much so the electric energy buzzing through the air almost felt physical. The source emanated from the dome of lights and noise around Sydney Harbour way down in the distance.
Although daylight had disappeared hours ago, the atmosphere only grew stronger by the minute. And apparently, so did the dampness on my body. Since arriving in Australia two weeks ago, not a day had gone by without leaking like a pierced hosepipe. It was the dead of the night and still warmer than most English summers. But the heat was nothing compared to the scolding giant ball of fire that made its presence known during the day.
It loved playing a sickening game to torment us Brits. The game was hide and seek, not a friendly one, but a seek-and-destroy, “I’m-going-to-burn-you-to-death” type of game. Relentless in its sadistic pursuit. I may have been born with brown skin, but did the sun not realise I was from a part of the world where it only showed up for a couple of weeks a year? It had already turned me into a burnt chicken wing.
“Hey, Amit, you glad you stuck around and didn’t lose your bottle like the other newbies did? Told you I knew where the best spot was,” a southern English accent bragged.
Will power anyone?
His voice floated across the handful of other backpackers clinging onto the iron fence. It belonged to the entertainments manager from my hostel. His job was to simply take us out on pub crawls, get everybody wasted, and repeat again the next night, all week long. However, tonight was different, and he had stated all day that it was under control. Most newbies had lost faith throughout the day as the party in the hostel got wilder.
Up until ten minutes ago, I was convinced this lifelong dream had slipped through my fingers. Will power, or more accurately, a lack of it, and drinking all day had overruled the numerous thoughts of leaving. There were times I cursed myself for not being more strong-minded. But here I was on this ledge, with just a couple of other newbies and a handful who had been in the hostel and in Sydney for months. While I was still settling in, Sydney and the hostel was home for them.
All of a sudden, strobe lights shot high into the night sky like laser beams, and instantly, goosebumps popped like popcorn from head to toe, blocking the leaking sweat ducts. The Opera House started to flash as did the equally iconic Sydney Harbour Bridge. A roar came from the thousands of people gathered around the harbour. Their voices travelled towards us, passing the dark void of the Royal Botanic Gardens, the naval base, up the hill, through the overlapping thick foliage—and whatever was hiding in it—to this secret viewpoint in Woolloomooloo.
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Follow British backpacker Amit’s humorous wild ride into nomad life. From his early calamitous struggles with solo travel, the odd brush with death, to ghetto snobbing (his words), it’s been a ‘take the rough with the smooth’ type of journey
Don’t just imagine the journey – see it through this FREE photo album
The two of them
How this main road below the notorious suburb of the Kings Cross remained empty of others was a mystery, but who cared. Voices perked up, not from those lined up along the fence but from within.
Are you kidding me? This is actually about to happen? Wake me up, this shit doesn’t happen to people like me, professed one of them.
Yeah, sure, ok, it’s not real, just imagining it, just like everything else in the last couple of weeks. Of course it’s real, dumbass! All of it has been, so get used to it. This is the new life, the other one beamed back.
There were two of them, living rent free in my mind. While most people had one inner voice or an identifiable angel and demon on each shoulder, I was stuck with these two idiots. They constantly switched sides and bickered. Both popped up whenever they felt like it, said what they wanted, and disappeared again. It was a nightmare at times, but they had manifested throughout my life.
Existing through life, not living it
So, who am I?
I’m nobody, just an English guy from a life of sob stories (we all have them) who never had a sense of belonging and who sees life differently to most. I’ve felt more at home as a stranger in a strange country on the other side of the world than I ever have in my hometown. I don’t know what it is, maybe because of how life growing up was back home, but I just couldn’t fathom what society deemed as normal.
That monotonous life of schooling, university, a secure career, a house, a car, a family life is not for me. I’m that guy who always questioned it but was deemed a disruption for wanting an actual logical answer. Personally, it made no sense to go through life checking those usual tick boxes. I craved escape from these shackles my whole life and felt like a free spirit trapped in a system with no way out.
Where I’m from, people like me take to the bottle or stick needles in their veins for escape, then there are those who simply just exist through life but don’t live it. As much as I hated that life, for twenty-six years, that’s what I did—just floated through life, simply existing.
Forget about that, it’s in the past, you don’t need to think of it again—look at this, dreamt of this moment my entire life—shut up and enjoy it.
“This is actually happening!” the words escaped without my knowledge, but a giddiness started to flush through once again.
This is real!
“It’s a grand life, huh?” replied the soft voice next to me.
The familiar Irish accent belonged to Fiona. I had almost forgotten she was on the fence next to me since we arrived. She had also used those same words as we floated under the Harbour Bridge during the sunset boat party a week ago. Fiona was one of the residents in the hostel, she had been here for months and was someone I was becoming friends with. Before I could reply, the plug was pulled. Complete darkness blanketed the sky, the lights creating the bright dome disappeared. Thousands of gasps filled the air, along with whistles and cheers before silence descended.
Everything fell still, even the rustles below, as if they were waiting for this moment too. It lasted just a few seconds but felt like minutes. In an instant, the whole bridge shimmered momentarily in a blinding white before turning to complete darkness for a few more seconds.
Just the start of the backpacking sydney story
This was just the start of the story, nothing is ever how it seems, adventures can easily turn into misadventures on the drop of the hat and not revealed itself yet.
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