Throwaways: London





75660003We have a big canal – well, we call it a river but I think its a canal.
I wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t so big. I like feeling connected.








No words. Just pictures this time. But I hope these photos provide some insight into how each of the moments in my first 2 months in London felt in the best way possible, of course. If you care to keep up my journey as a fake photographer, check out my photography account, shotbyhosp.

That’s it for now. (words soon)


follow my adventures on the gram @hxspey, or on twitter @hospey!

Different Day / Same Hangover


2 Weeks / Different Day, Same Hangover

[April 29th, 2018]
I’ve said my goodbyes, so I guess my latest trip officially starts right now.

Though I don’t actually head out to London for another 2 weeks, mentally I’m already checked out. Last night was my best friend’s 24th birthday (rightfully themed to the 2000’s – a time of carelessness we all kind of wish we could revisit). It was one of those instantly nostalgic feeling get-togethers; I’m not sure if it was the theme or the people, but everything felt like it never skipped a beat. I call this effect “different day, same hangover”. Regardless, it will serve as a pinpoint on this group’s rocky existential timeline that will probably continue along until we collectively become the 10th season of Friends and become too highly paid to care anymore. This morning followed suit with a ceremonial group brunch – truncated by my early exit – and now I’m on the ferry back home.

I think the last set of goodbyes before long-term travels are always kind of weird because no one really knows what to say. Like, “bye [for now?] – hope you don’t die somewhere exotic, I guess”. I don’t know, maybe I’m the only one who thinks like this.

Skiptracing by Mild High Club is playing, and it seems very suitable all the way down to the name of the band.

Anyways – 2 weeks. Since starting this little pseudo travel blog a year ago, I’m a lot better traveled than before. The last 16 or so months have been eventful (ideally, by now I’ve just published my year in review, and you’re able to read that HERE. If not, well, this is awkward), and even though life constantly feels slow, part of me knows that I’m probably going to be in for an incredibly eventful summer. You know, ‘the best summer ever’ type vibes; the way that the lead up to every summer usually feels.

I’ve spoken about the idea of an endless summer before, so I’ll try to spare the resonance, but I think I’m finally starting to get excited. I’ll be heading into Europe and the UK for my first time ever, setting up shop in London and hoping to make it out unscathed (well maybe a little scathed). I don’t have any jobs lined up besides a few leads, I have no place to stay yet, and if we’re being realistic I probably don’t have enough money in my bank account to be entering a foreign country with the type of plans that I have.

A year ago, I still wouldn’t have been terrified, but I would’ve definitely been wary. Seeing as ‘planning’ didn’t do me so well the first time around, and that most of my more spontaneous outings have played out well in one way or another, I’m very okay with it this time.

I spent the first two months of 2018 living in Los Angeles. (Also, I hate how much I’ve used the word “I” so far in this – I’m gonna get to back to my regular how-to style for the next one. Bare with me, I’m trying to get myself excited to document life again. I had to get myself excited about life again first, so this is merely the second step). L.A. was one of those trips where people would ask me what I was going out there to do and I would tell them “basically the same thing I do at home – but it’s sunny there”. In all reality, it was probably the best solo trip that I’ve had so far. I think I realized how helpful it is to be around other starving creatives. It turned the theory that most of my internet friends are willing to help me out more than my real friends into law.


me, recently.

Where was I again? Oh right, 2 weeks left. (Repetition is a drug, according to Jermaine). Packing, preparing, praying… and push-ups? Honestly, I don’t think any of this stuff will directly correlate to a good trip as much as an open mind and a shot-shooters touch can, but hey, I’d be remiss not to leave my mother with a little peace of mind before I fly the coup.

I don’t really have anything else to say besides that I don’t actually know anything about UK culture besides that a peace-sign facing the wrong direction means a bad word and that my tea game is about to be ELEVATED. Can someone inform me what context to use the word “Peng” in? Because it sounds rad and I intend to use it as much as possible.

But yeah, if you stay out in London and want to link – maybe go for a photo walk – hit my line. Otherwise stay tuned, and hopefully, I’ll find some time in between life to tell you some more stories. I have a lot of good ones from this past year, though you’ll probably never hear them.

(I believe in life’s parallels, so if you were wondering by the end of this entry has been so awkward and sudden then scroll back to up to the first point I was making about weird goodbyes.)

Bye for now – don’t die somewhere exotic,


Interlude: 📍 elsewhere

There’s something to be achieved by leaving your comfort zone. For some people, this means departing a certain mental destination, but if you’re like me it’s often something a little more tangible that you seek.

Over the 7 or so months that have passed since graduating university I’ve had the pleasure of more than doubling the number of cities that I’ve got to explore during my entire lifespan thus far. What started as a change of scenery in the ol’ outback of Australia (read as: a big share-house 10 minutes away from Bondi Beach), seemingly seamlessly transitioned into a cross-map expedition of the United States – but now even back home in Canada, I’ve found myself making as many mini excursions as possible.

D0D6899-R1-00-0 (2)

Schedules are great and all, and finding that ideal routine is nice – but nothing quite enhances the creative experience as much a night in the back of a car in the mountains with your friends, or maybe just a solo expedition in hopes of stumbling on a place that you’ve never been before. (Sometimes I wish I was a real photographer, just for the excuse to be constantly venturing to new, cool places at all times).

Y’see, being a creative is as much about the what you produce, as it is about what you consume. A creative’s “diet” consists of everything we take in throughout the day – from the vlogger you watch in the AM, to the accounts you monitor daily on the ‘gram, and including but not limited to the events you partake in – which is why specific scenery can be so important. Not only can a little day trip act as the perfect excuse to pry your retinas off your iBlackHole for a few minutes, the sheer energy that will radiate off whatever sunset you end up watching, or lake you end up treading in will be enough to shift even the most deadset minds and spirits.

This time around, the Interlude playlist will be focused on showcasing the best upcoming talent from around the globe; some of which I had the pleasure of meeting during my travels like Jake Crocker from Seattle, WA, to some who are popping off in places I hope to venture to soon like Two Another out of London, UK, all the way to, of course, sensational artists that I found out about on the internet (like UK’s Jacob Banks who I discovered on the COLORS Berlin Facebook page singing his heart out). Oh, and you know I had to throw a Canadian in there, so Toronto’s Daniel Caeser is rightfully holding it down for those of us North of the 49th parallel.

follow me on Soundcloud for more playlists!

Check out the playlist below, and leave a comment if you know anyone from your region that I’ve gotta check out – who knows, they might even score my next Interlude.

follow my adventures on the gram @hxspey, or on twitter @hospey

How To Be A Good Storyteller

Your grandparents (or maybe even your own parents or older siblings) always told the best stories. It seemed as if their seemingly billions of years on the planet so far had all been encapsulated into an endless number of amazing and awing stories that made you second guess that you really knew anything about them at all.

There’s something to say about a person who has good stories to tell. Follow these steps and you too will be able to leave a lasting impression with any sub-urban legend that you decide to recite.


Here is how to become a good storyteller: 

You’re a creative. But you’re a special type of creative. You’re not special in the way that what you make is any more important than any other medium – perhaps even less special in that regards in the eyes of some – but special in the way that your medium is a little less obvious. And a lot less tangible.

You see, musicians make music, singers make songs, photographers take photos, writers write, but storytellers… well, storytellers simply just live.  They live to do things. Sometimes with purpose, and sometimes with luck, storytellers live to share their experiences; professional glorified dreamers you could say. (Disclaimer: these things are not mutually exclusive! Many photographers, writers, poets, etc ARE storytellers.)

Now that’s fine and all, but at the end when you’re old and you’re gray and you’ve been through it all, will you just automatically have these stories? Well, some people will. Some people naturally live more ‘exciting’ lives, simply by figuring out what their purpose was at an early enough age and having the resources to make the most of that execution. You? You will be the special case that has only one resource to coincide with your purpose: gumption.

You’ll be in a position where people question your intentions. You don’t seem to take anything seriously, and you’ll “waste” your time on acts of spontaneity. You’ll be able to see past the foreseeable “risks” on the top row of the eye chart called ‘life’ to focus on the fuzzy yet existent rewards on the very bottom row (‘1, or 2’). You’re not content with living vicariously. This is the mentality that will land you in some VIP section in some club in some city that you’ve only seen on TV, and the same mentality that will leave you wondering how so many people can be content celebrating with bottles that aren’t theirs. If it’s not your bottles, then you haven’t worked hard enough yet – but, you’ll have a story to tell about that night anyways.

Furthermore, you’ll be able to accept that it won’t always work out; sometimes the story won’t have a happy ending. You’ll accept that sometimes the hot air balloon ride doesn’t happen, and sometimes you don’t hit that game winner. But you accept that as many times as it doesn’t work out, it will work out. You enjoy the gamble. You not only trust yourself, but you trust the process – you understand that you can win the lottery more than the Philadelphia 76ers if you put yourself out there.

You understand that you can’t tell the story if you can’t be there to document it. If you weren’t there, did it really happen like that? You understand that if it didn’t happen like that, that you will from here on out have a responsibility to tell it how it did happen – with a few evolving add-ons that are a byproduct of time and excitement.

One day, you know that you too will be a grandparent and that you’ll hold the civic duty of capturing the young minds of kin and taint them with your minimally exaggerated stories that will be maximally exaggerated by their scale-less minds. For the time being though, you simply live and practice your medium with everyone who mistakenly asks to hear you tell the far-too-long-form version of what happened “that one time…”

Like the fresh prince that I think I am in my own mind, my life has recently been flip turned upside down. I keep having to remind myself that yes, this is real, and no, it’s not an accident. Whatever is happening to be as a product of my medium; I’m a storyteller.

In the past 30 days I have been to 20+ cities, in 3 countries, spanning 2 continents. I’ve logged and endless amount of kilometers, and squeezed into far too many uncomfortable plane seats. I’ve enjoyed a plethora of oversized hotel beds, and snapped enough pictures to fill up a handful of memory cards. I’ve witnessed rappers ride miniature motorcycles, and seen comedians roast their own children. I’ve been to playoff games, and stood front row at every concert I’ve been at.

(Above: Only a few of the multiple shots I’ve taken over the last month or so. Trust when I tell you that the next edition of ‘Throwaways‘ will be crazy.)

None of these are embellishments, and none of these statements are meant to gloat. To me, they’re simply stories for me to tell you about, later (and I do plan to tell y’all about them, soon), in hopes that in return you’ll go and chase something crazy that you can tell me about the next time. Thinking about people who never have the realization of the person that they are meant to be is something that is enough to keep me up at night. If the fact that I have been able to materialize all of these dreams by age 22 is enough to do that for you, then I guess I’ll keep telling stories.

Or maybe I’m just wasting my time, and my grandkids will be too busy on their iPhone 42+’s to listen to my stupid stories anyways.

-A how-to, by Hospey.

follow my adventures on the gram @hxspey, or on twitter @hospey

How to Watch The Sunset

There are few natural feats in life that deliver as much sheer beauty as a sunset.

You might have or favourite spot, or maybe you’re a chaser wherever you are. Maybe you like to go by yourself, or maybe you have a special sunset buddy. Regardless, there is something special about that transition from golden hour to moonlit dusk.

But what is the best way to perfectly indulge in the sunset? Just follow these pointers.


Here is How To Watch The Sunset:

“Bondi Sunset” – “5:38”, google replies. 5:14, you take flight off the main doorstep.

I don’t know why, but you’ll ALWAYS be late, so plan ahead. Try to time it so that you arrive at your spot at least 15-20 minutes before the sun is scheduled to start setting. And remember, even if you’re early, you’re still late. So don’t worry too much.

Tucked in the hills of North, Bondi in Sydney, Australia, a magical spot presides. It’s not the most secluded, or the least known, but it’s perfect. It’s a mere meetup for the non-existent sun-setters club, and you’ve just gained membership. You have only a handful of minutes until it’s time, and the bus is pulling up as close as it’ll go, each stop beforehand playing Jenga with your angst. At this point, with your nose pressed against the window, the billowy clouds over the bay will start to seem closer than science should allow. You’ll hop off the bus as cumulus destiny seems to summon you. You’ll want to stop and set up camp right then and there, but you haven’t quite made it to your spot yet – snap out of it. You will start the playlist.

 – – – – –

“Clouds Never Get Old”; Bas harkens the sky with a bouncy ode as you stroll to your spot, gazing up at the sky as if it was your first time seeing it. “Palm Trees” will play as you settle in. Relaxed and taking in the beauty, you’ll seek out the perfect vantage point. A few minutes will pass, and as the sun struggles to peek out over the skyline the cotton candy clouds will 2-step as Frank Ocean’s intro begins. “Pink+White” takes over your soul – green, your body.  Hearing Frank naturally makes you want to hear more Frank.

The beginning of the 2nd half of “Nights” marks the end of another day to most, or the beginning of another for a creative, as you peer out and finally seem to understand the color navy. (Not an ocean blue, but it’s not quite purple either. It’s underneath the clouds, yet never eclipses the horizon. As sure as you’ve ever been of anything).

Sampha’s hymns a background for your truest admirations. You’ll embrace the beauty of the sky, the day, maybe the person you are with (I’m not too sure), and finally exactly where you are at this very moment in life, and realize that even if you never think of this moment ever again, you’ll never forget it. “4422”. The actualizations set in and the energy of your surroundings and everything in reach resurface as the harsh vibrations of “Foreign Fields”. Maybe it’s the lack of sun, but you have chills.

Quiñ’s voice haunts you, and you free-fall back to earth with cinder blocks of emotion bound to your ankles. Gerald gives you something(/someone) relatable(/regrettable) to think about, and you feel it. (I’m not sure what that something is, it’s ineffable, but you’ll know it when you feel it). The quintessential nighttime song, nothing else man-made has ever made you feel that way.

 – – – – –

The sunset is now over and so is the playlist, and you’ve already started trying to re-materialize the fading ink. One by one the stars start to appear, and you start to attempt to rationalize the last 28 minutes.

You can’t because there isn’t anything to rationalize. It was just another perfect sunset.

FullSizeRender (21)

This was the sunset tonight. I really wasn’t lying. It’s really hard to write about, or even remember these type of evenings after the fact.

I wrote this piece by hand during an early April sunset in Bondi, my first after another bout with a creative block. All together I spent about a month piecing together the ideas for this, starting with venturing to a bunch of ideal spots, experimenting with the right songs for the playlist, and finally getting out and testing it out for myself. The block coming via an abundance of overwhelming news, I think this is exactly the piece I was hoping for, and needed.

Again, the listenable playlist is here, in case you missed it (I would’ve embedded it, but 8tracks’ WordPress add-on looks horrendous, and Frank isn’t on Soundcloud). Try it out at your next sunset, and let me know if it works for you too.


Lord knows I haven’t seen the sunrise is almost 3 years, but I don’t think there is anything I love more than a good sunset. Maybe that is just the night-person in me.

a how-to,

by hospey.

follow my adventures on the gram @hxspey, or on twitter @hospey

How To Live Comfortably While Travelling:

Perhaps the scariest thing about backpacking, or even moving to a new country is wondering how you will be able to maintain your regular, everyday lifestyle. To avoid shock in a new country, just follow these tips.


Here is How To Live Comfortably While Travelling:

As with everything in life, preparation is key. Do some research, give yourself a head start. No matter what you read, you probably know best so you’ll ignore all hints and bring the necessities of home. For me, this meant clothing. Lots of clothing. Oh, and shoes. (“So, I’m heading to Australia in the middle of summertime? Yea, better bring 5 different jackets. And 5 pairs of Vans. Just in case they don’t sell these super necessary things down there”).

Packing is key. No one wants to be under-packed, so over-pack instead. People can live off 60L bags for months? Nah, you’re no peasant. Bring 2 suitcases worth of stuff, after-all you’re no back-packer­, you’re a ‘traveler’.

It’ll be alright for the first few weeks, a little bit of discomfort is expected… right? Ubering everywhere (like my name was Madeintyo) because the amount of luggage you will have is more than a little difficult to get from hostel to hostel with. Whatever, finding a house is the next step anyways; THEN you will be glad I have all of this stuff.

Turns out, it’s not that easy to find a place in a market that you have no idea about. It’ll take a few attempts. You’ll buzz an older couple on the 7th floor for a showing. They’re nice. Weird, but nice(ish). The gentleman would offer you a beer if he wasn’t on his last one already. The compromise seems strained, but in the end it doesn’t work out anyways.

Back to the hostel.

The rooms are crammed, the bathroom is dirty, and for some reason the simple task of making friends is more and more difficult with each move. It’s kind of like that one time your family moved cross country and you had to make all new friends in the 5th grade… except you’re 20-something and you’re just moving down the street or to a new room, but there’s no playground this time – only booze.

You’ll finally luck out on a house – It’s a little out of your price range, you’ll be sharing with 10 other people that you haven’t met yet, and you pray that your roommate isn’t too strange; he’s cool and everyone is nice, but for some reason you feel like it’s taking some time to fit in. You’re alone most of the day, and you’re fine with that because….

You know what? Fuck this article. This is NOT why I started doing this.

I started writing this piece last week while I was feeling down on my luck. I’d been in the county for exactly 1 month, with what seemed like very little to show for it. I was sleeping on a bed without sheets, without a job nor enough money to pay for the 2nd week in my new house, all in a city where I knew virtually no one. The honeymooner-vacation phase was over and real life was crashing down on me. Hard.

To be honest, I can’t recall how upset I actually was or if I just felt like some sob-story views would make me feel better. But what I can say with certainty is that I made this website to share my stories and experiences, and always keep it 100% real. I did that, and at the time, I couldn’t even finish this post. That was my reality – and most likely will be the reality for every traveler at some point. Travelling isn’t always what Instagram makes it to be; There isn’t always cold drinks and beautiful people at hand, and the sun definitely isn’t always shining. You’re in a new place for a reason: TO LEARN. Though learning often means absorbing something from every great encounter that you have, sometimes it also means understanding what can be taught from the hardest times in your life as well.

Today, my reality is nothing like it was at this very same time last week, so in an effort to keep these stories of my adventures 100% real (okay, I might have to embellish sometimes… but what kind of storyteller would I be if I didn’t?) I cannot finish that post the way it was going. What I can do is tell you about some of my more recent experiences, and finish explaining ‘how to be comfortable while travelling’ – it all comes back to the same point I was trying to make, anyways.

I may get into more details a little later (most likely later this week on my other website,, but so far this week I have: Got a well-paying job, had some amazing conversations with my roommates from around the world, caught up with some old friends & made 1 or 2 new ones, went to my first concert in Australia, got to meet an artist I’ve been listening too since I was 19, redesigned this website, and done the most writing that I’ve done in months. I’m not sure if it was the natural energy of being back in a music environment, or the paycheck (it really is amazing how $400 dollars can make you feel like a king) – but whatever it is, my creative side hasn’t been this invigorated since I started RLGT 2 years ago.

I feel full of energy, confident, and interested – but not comfortable.

But maybe that’s the beauty of this whole thing. Going back to the Bas article that I published a few days ago, this lifestyle will always be one big lesson in culture. It’s not about being comfortable or feeling like I’m at home. It’s about being attentive & adaptive to the world around you… and possibly seeing some cool shit every now and again. Travelling is fun, but it’s not easy. And part of me thinks that is the way is supposed to me.

-A how-to, by Hospey.

follow my adventures on the gram @hxspey, or on twitter @hospey

Interlude: FIENDS In Tokyo

Music has always been my saving grace. No matter what I’ve been doing, where I’ve been, how I’ve been feeling, or what I’ve been creating, music has always been the one thing that can pluck me out of my feelings and drop me anywhere I need to be. 

Aside from my How-To’s, I will be launching another 2 (for now) re-occurring segments on this website; 1 which I will launch a little later, and 1 called Interlude. The Interlude will serve as random intermissions in my regularly scheduled postings to talk a bit about music in some form, and how it is affecting me on my travels. This might be some tunes that I’ve been listening to a lot (compiled into a playlist for y’all), or some insights from some of my favorite artists, or something else completely. We’ll keep working at it.

Welcome to The Interlude.


Interlude: FIENDS In Tokyo

One of my favourite artists, who made one of my favourite albums of last year recently made the journey to Japan to film a few new music videos (and hopefully work on some new music as well – I can only assume the constant cultural saturation of a place like Japan must to wonders for the creative process). That artist, Bas, joined by his FIENDS crew, teamed up with videographer Scott Lazer to create the new mini-documentary “FIENDS in Tokyo”.

Serving as another look into the mind of the late-blooming 29 year old Queens-based rapper (he only started rhyming 5-6 years ago), the doc follows Bas, Cozz, and co. while they explore the city, speaking on the culture, the love they receive, and the importance of travel – with a few quirky moments along the way. All in all, it’s an easy 9-minute watch with some stunning visuals.

For me, what really got caught my attention was a certain voice of at the end by the aforementioned Dreamville artist Cozz on the significance of travel. He says:

I know I’ve been fed a lot of lies about the world growing up, and every time I travel I get to see for myself… what it’s really about, and what there is to learn about other people and other cultures, and what there is to respect about ’em and try to incorporate to your own. And at the end of the day, travel is the best form of education because you can get to the real.

In Mass Appeal’s premiere for the doc, they say down with Bas and he continued on the notion:

I think we have to just get out of the bubble. All these bubbles that keep people apart are really just built off of misinformation and propaganda, and all types of ways that people’s thinking is manipulated. When you actually have the experiences for yourself, or give someone else that experience that they’ve never had, you’re shattering all those stereotypes and breaking people out of their bubble. Everyone should at least attempt to do that for your own growth, and of course for the next man… I’ve never in life regretted spending on travel. You never do. You’ll have those experiences that really help shape who you are, who you’ll become, and the way you view the world.

As you can probably tell, Bas is an incredibly bright man, and I’d urge you to check out the rest of that article, here, where he talks more about his fascination with Toyko, the Trump travel ban, and his upcoming work.

For me, something about Bas and his personality & thoughts has an innate effect on me. Hell, before I even began my travels, one of his lyrics became a permanent reminder to myself to go out and explore. I got the words “clouds never get old” tattooed, and I knew immediately that the line was special to me even before I understood what he meant by it. When I finally got the fortunate chance to ask Bas about to line during a Genius Q&A on Twitter he explained, “I fly often on road, but somehow that moment when you break the clouds and come up over them just never gets old.” That was all I needed to hear.

Now, no matter which city I wake up in, or which coastline I’m watching the cotton candy clouds as the sun goes down, I always remember that there is so much more to see.

Go check out the 2 videos that Bas shot while in Japan, including one for possibly my favourite off of the tape in “Live For“, and also for the introspective “Penthouse“, live on Vevo now.

HHT Interlude: Vol. 1




How to Start A Travel Blog:

You’re twenty-something. You’ve saved up the funds and booked the ticket. Bags packed, itinerary set. Only thing left to do, fulfill your creative need. What better way than to start a not-shitty travel blog!

But how? 

hospeyhowtoWATERMARKHere is how to start a travel blog:

Step 1: don’t start a travel blog.

Now I understand that this might sound a little hypocritical coming from what you would probably consider a travel blogger, but just give me a second to explain.

Musicians make music, photographers take photos, painters make paintings. Writers? Well, writers live life… and then write about it.

So in the sense that I am traveling in my real everyday life, and writing about it, then yes I suppose I could be considered a travel blogger. But I think that there is a connotation and certain stigma around being a travel blogger, which isn’t exactly unwarranted.

It seems as if there is this idea that at a certain point in your 20’s you are to wrap your life up into a 50L backpack and head into Europe for a few weeks. Maybe you’ll set up a fancy Instagram account, but you’ll definitely start a blog. You’ll write about all the classic sights and take pictures at all the classic spots. You’ll write about why your soul was incomplete before traveling and how if you don’t travel it’s impossible to live an enriched and complete life. After all, how can you become a ‘woke’ individual unless your parents pay for you to black-out in a few Mediterranean countries for a summer?

Ah that’s right. There is many ways. You could see your country, volunteer in your city, or do your own thing altogether. Hell, you could just continue living your life and choose to be a caring, open-minded individual without having to tell anyone about it. All of these would be considered adequate options as to how to live a happy and complete life.

Now, just as traveling isn’t for everyone, neither is blogging (god, I don’t think I’ve ever addressed how much I hate the word “blog”, in all conjugations). No I can’t actually tell you not to do it, and believe me if you are reading this: I WOULD LOVE FOR YOU TO SUCCEED. But as anyone with a Facebook account and a few ‘well-traveled’ acquaintances from back in high school can tell you, there are FAR too many bad travel blogs out there.

This may be a hard concept to grasp, especially considering that every human’s human experience should and frankly, is beautiful in its own way – this is not the problem. The problem is with travel blogging itself. It’s washed. It’s been done. Too many times. Some decent, most terrible. As the author of almost 400 online articles, not even I don’t feel comfortable attempting to champion a successful AND entertaining travel blog. (And best believe that those 2 things are definitely not the same thing).

Backtracking a little, as a creative I encourage everyone to go out there and find their medium and I get excited every time I see someone that I know choose writing as their own. Part of being a creative is, well, being creative.

Do something new, find a new formula.

Don’t be a travel blogger. (Or, you know. Make a shitty ‘how-to’ website instead 🌚)

-A how-to, by Hospey.

follow my adventures on the gram @hxspey, or on twitter @hospey

How to Travel After University:

The context might have been a little different, but I think Hunter S. Thompson had the right idea in mind when he said “BUY THE TICKET, TAKE THE RIDE.”


Here is how to travel after university:

Enroll in some sort of post-secondary institution. You probably don’t want to, and will probably hate a large majority of it, but it will be worth it. It will be worth it, only because it will make the [what happens next] seem that much more rewarding.

Find a friend. Choose wisely; maybe a friend from school. No flakes. (This step is optional. Consider skipping this step).

Find yourself. You never know when group travels become solo travels. Enjoy being alone sometimes, but embrace the opportunity to cultivate new connections.

Get a job/ win the lottery/ or pan-handle. Gather the funds by whatever (legal) means possible, and then resort back to what Thompson first told you to do: Buy the ticket. Open ended, or finite, it doesn’t matter. Lock it in. (hint: don’t give yourself any opportunities to back out).

Plan. Plan. Plan some more.

Now scrap those plans. Find out how you’re getting to where you’re going, and when you’re going to leave. Remember those ‘mad-libs’ books from when you were a kid? Just fill in the blanks. There is no right or wrong way.

Pack. Re-pack. Re-pack again for good measure. A well-packed bag (unlike this post) is well siphoned; edited. No wasted space, no unnecessary additions, and no typos. Wait, what?

Alas, you have nothing holding you back. [Most likely] no permanent residence, no children, no spouse – maybe some school debt, but you’re only [22] years old. Barriers are an illusion. Time is worth a helluva lot more than money, so god-damn it, you’re rich.

Only one thing left to do. Take the ride (ya filthy animal).

Now, I’d be remiss to say that I am some sort of professional traveler, or even that I have tons of experience. Sure, I’ve been here-and-there since childhood, mostly within Canada or back to Trinidad, but until now never have I taken part in such a vividly uncharted experience. But if there is one thing I pride myself on and can feel more comfortable calling myself, is being a professional ‘life-liver’. In fact, I’ve been living life for about 22 years now (who woulda’ thunk it) – finessing every damn day, too.

I’m not here to go all Drake on y’all, with some “everybody dies, but not everybody lives” crap. Rather, I’d like to think that just about everybody has the opportunity in one way or another to go out every day and experience life. Everybody should consider themselves pro’s at living, by this point I would hope – I’m just so lucky that my medium literally allows me to do it, and then tell you about it.

Juxtaposed to the title, these how-to’s are not instructions. Some things, hell, maybe none of the things that will work for me will work for you. But regardless, I’ll be here anyway to share the details of a few of my adventures with you all – you can decide the purpose for yourself. If you don’t consider yourself a professional life-liver yet… I guess it’s just about time to go do a little more living, huh?

There are how-to’s, by me, Hospey, yet I’m the one who is hoping to learn a little bit. (Or maybe I’m just blabbing for click bait).

Currently, I’m sitting in front of a white window in West Vancouver looking out into the blissful abyss of green flora, 30 hours out from my first big adventure with my best friend. This time 2 or 3 days from now we’ll be hugging Koala’s (or something like that, I imagine) in Australia. No return ticket.

So if you see a confused Canadian kid wandering the streets, teach me how to do something. Pls?

-A how-to, by Hospey.

(Thank you to Mark Byrne for writing the inspiration for this site. And sorry for swag-jacking)

follow my adventures on the gram @hxspey, or on twitter @hospey