Yesterday, while sipping a honey-lavender latte at Bliss Cafe, I got to talking with the most gorgeous woman. And I don't just mean her face -- her whole soul was radiant with joy. When the topic shifted to one that is dear to me, travel, she said something fascinating:

"One week of travel produces a year's worth of memories."

Look, I get it. Travel is your thing​. It's what you talk about at parties. It's what you post about on social media. And your travel stories are way better than everyone else's.

​But here's the thing: if you "travel shame" people who don't travel the way you do, all it tells me is that you probably aren't that good of traveler.

​I recently posted The Very First Thing ALL Divers Should Do When They Get to Bonaire, in which I described the Lionfish Hunting certification course I took while traveling in the ABC Islands. (Eradicating invasive species for the win!)
 
But I also wanted to give a shoutout to what I thought was the best dive shop in Bonaire – VIP Diving, through whom I took said lionfish course.

Want to know how I know there is magic in the world?

Because I just returned from Bonaire, where there is magic everywhere. 

Three weeks ago, I had never heard of a place called Bonaire. But then, one day, I decided to Google "world's best shore diving," and Bonaire kept showing up -- usually in the number one spot -- on every list.

So I did an image search for Bonaire, fell in love, and booked a flight.

As my departure rapidly approached, I checked the CDC website to read their recommendations for water and food safety in Bonaire.

​Like many things, the government got it all wrong. 

I recently returned from an amazing month in Costa Rica and Panama -- and I had a blast! Let me show you:

SOOOO much surfing, scuba diving, snorkeling, hiking, ATVing, motorcycling, and amazing people meeting! 

Not only did this trip inspire hundreds of photos and a video -- it also inspired three songs (the first I've ever written in my head -- normally I can only write music on my guitar) and several blog posts, including:

Just me, myself and I, hanging out at the Rio Celeste in Costa Rica. #MieScattering

Let me start by saying, you're right. I am pretty cool for traveling alone. It's something I love about myself -- that if I see something I want, I go for it. Even if "it" is a country on the other side of the world, and no one else wants to go there with me. 

Everyone who knows me… knows that I’m a little gross.
 
I eat the carnitas burrito I accidentally left in my car for 24 hours. I use sticks I found on the ground to scoop my peanut butter and rocks to scrape the meat out of my coconuts. And I definitely don’t follow the five-second rule.
 
But one thing I will never, ever do… is cook in a hostel kitchen. And you probably shouldn’t, either.

Many years ago, I visited Bath, England -- a place of water, life, and healing. Upon one of the fountains there was engraved, "Aqua est Vida." Water is life.

And plastic is death.

I did an anthropology research trip in the Great Sandy Desert in Fall 2007. On the last night of the trip, I was eating my last meal with Desmond, a Martu man with whom I had spent the last few weeks hunting, sharing dreamtime stories and discussing Aboriginal culture. And he looked up at me and said, "Eva, you are my sister, and I am your brother."

Nothing he said could have moved me more. It was a moment I will never forget, and I hope the following story will help explain why.

***

"You see that?" Desmond asks quietly as he adjusts the gun on his shoulder.