Travelling is my passion. I have been through over 20 different countries - I lost count after my fourth trip to Europe. As long as the number exceeds my age, I'm satisfied.

I'm an avid backpacker. I don't just want to see the world. I want to experience it.

I travel in a unique way. I have climbed the Great Wall of China in snow, worked on a farm in Normandy, France, and volunteered at an orphanage in Bali, Indonesia.

Backpackers are constantly sharing information, stories, and advice. I'm not doing this because I make money off of it (which I don't) or because I think I know it all (which I definitely don't).

I am simply doing this because it's what I love to do. Enjoy!

Sunday, 15 April 2012

Amber Bowerman Memorial Travel Writing Award

Travel writing is my ultimate dream, and it's unfolding into reality before my eyes.  I expressed my experiences from my travels last spring in a 3000 word short story, which has been shortlisted for the Amber Bowerman Memorial Travel Writing Award.  You can follow the links below to read more about this exciting opportunity I have been offered.

I have also decided to include a short excerpt for those of you who are curious about my writing style or intrigued to hear about my travels.  Enjoy!

The following is a passage from 'A World Away', a short story written by Alison Karlene Hodgins.

            " The beauty of backpacking unfolds in the constant ability to move on. Saying goodbye becomes as effortless as uttering hello. Another plane ride took us north of Australia to Indonesia. Bali was a feast for the eyes. The contrast to modern Australia was astonishing and mocking. I couldn’t absorb all of the details fast enough. The muggy air sweated with high-pitched singing prayers that mixed into cricket’s chirps at dusk. An inevitable thunderstorm followed each night without fail. Instead of the fresh smell that flooded Alberta’s plains after a rain shower, the streets stank of damp garbage. Humble abodes constructed from grey stone struggled to contain a hopeless, overflowing population. Every moment was noise I couldn’t comprehend. A chaotic clash of old and new, faded pastels and stone cold temples littered the cement alleyways. Scooters swarmed the narrow streets like infectious, uncontrollable locust. Workers were loaded into the backs of trucks, packed tight as cattle, as oblivious to my presence as I was of theirs for the past 18 years.  "

Copyright of Alison Karlene Hodgins, April 15, 2012

No comments:

Post a Comment