Why I only write travel blogs
(and why I can’t finish them)

I am not an avid blogger, this is because I tend to have very little to say, especially if it needs to be backed by a certain level of conviction.

I am a fence sitter.

I was brought up to always consider how life would be should the shoe be on the other foot, an admirable quality, but has led me so far to a life of indecision. Don’t always be quick to judge other people Joh, imagine if you were in that situation. A stellar and interminable advice Dad. Always have time to listen to other people’s opinions and problems, if they need you to. Of course, yes Mum. It would be somewhat rude of me not to.

I think somewhere along these pearls of wisdom, they forgot to mention admirable qualities like strength, belief and dogma. I realise this may seem like a petulant thing to say, a big call for someone who rarely makes any call of any type, but I lay blame for my loose principles on their excellent parenting.

I am a grown man, sans opinion. A skill cultivated through my young adult years. Through university I played the role of the class wallflower, sitting with that dumbstruck face that gives off an air of disinterest (or worse, incomprehension). At the rare times I had an urge to speak up I would take too long weighing the pros and cons of speaking up, before the topic inevitably changes or someone else mentions my point (to which I nod proudly). I found that most times all conversations I have been part of, physically, run their course without needing me to contribute as little as a grunt of approval.

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So where does that leave me, the un-opinionated, in a life where the mind is constantly racing with thoughts? I tried blogging before, because for the sake of being known as a creative in the early noughties one should have a website with a cool splash page, online portfolio, and blog. The thing is I never knew what to write about — I never really did all that much.

Despite all that, I do love writing. I also happen to love travel. A perfect marriage at last for these two star crossed facets of my life. I found that keeping a diary while abroad helped me recap the day and reminisce while still being in the moment (the closest thing to being present without meditating).

What is most pleasing about a travel blog is that it is, at its core, a plot driven exercise. I have no problem recounting events of the day, albeit with a humorous twist. A travel blog is structural, factual, decisive. I can work with the bones of what are steadfast arguments and create amusing narratives along the way. Yes, we did have noodles for breakfast. Yes, the driver was a little drunk. Yes, I had to use google translate to speak to the Vietnamese chemist about my piles.

Success (I thought).

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Why then, of the three travel blogs I have written, have I finished none? It is not my sadness at the end of my holiday, nor is it the fatigue from having traveled and written on the road, no. After a sufficient amount of soul searching, I don’t believe it is either. I attribute the reason behind my three incomplete blogs to my fear of summarising (for a conclusion is the cousin of opinion). I would prefer to rest at the cusp of decision, without committing to one.

I think so anyway, who knows.