My cat-like hope is that, when I twist mid-air, falling toward a new, unknown job surface, I’ll safely land

In the absence of tourists, surrounded by attention-demanding Dalmatian cats, I find myself thinking about that widespread myth that felines have nine lives as well. These agile creatures survive falls that would injure other animals or finish them altogether.

In 2018, I argued that, actually, humans are no­­­­t cats; that we should follow our path in this only life we can actually prove we have.

Looking at my purring CV now, I realize I relate to the cat’s embrace of the fall more than I ever assumed. Leaving secure career paths behind, squeezing through yet another tight space, has a distinctly cat-like determination. My only hope is that, when I twist mid-air, falling toward a new, unknown job surface, I’ll safely land.

Read previous anniversary articles here:

8 Bizarre Hostel Experiences That Will Make You Miss Your Own Bed
7 Times I Risked Too Much: Navigating Dangers of Travel
Jaw-Dropping Surprises: 6 Biggest WTF Moments From My Travels
Pipeaway's Fifth Birthday: 5 Most Popular Articles Since 2017
Candle Number Four: 5 Things I've Learned in My Fourth Year of Blogging
Candle Number Three: 5 Things I've Learned in My Third Year of Blogging
Candle Number Two: 5 Things I've Learned in My Second Blogging Year
Candle Number One: 5 Things I've Learned in My First Year of Blogging

The Week I Quit

I spent Easter job hunting. If you’ve followed my writing before, this may come as a surprise. Two and a half months after I began working as Guest Experience Manager at a hotel that had earned a spot on Travel+Leisure’s list of the best all-inclusive, adults-only resorts in the world, I decided to move on.

Our lives are already fleeting as they are. Whether you disagree with your employer’s professional standards, find the office culture corrosive, or simply realize that the conditions promised during your interview were quietly forgotten after you signed, it is perfectly reasonable to leave during the probationary period. Companies see these first months as an opportunity to test the employee. But equally, companies are on a trial too.

I weighed the pros and cons, and without going into details, made the certainly-not-easy decision to abandon an intriguing professional challenge I had given my all to.

If we see they might be unattainable for reasons we cannot control, I firmly believe we are allowed to abandon big dreams and choose smaller, but possibly happier ones instead.

My job hunting made me think of Borut Veselko, a Slovenian TV host whose show “Odklop” I loved watching on Kanal A in the 1990s. The awarded actor was trying out a new profession every week, from stuntman to hypnotist. Another Borut, the country’s President Borut Pahor also presented himself in a variety of job roles for the 2015 calendar – he was everything from a car mechanic in January to a hairdresser in December.

Now, I don’t think we should all borutize our working lives, and start changing jobs on a weekly or a monthly basis. Life is not a TV show nor political propaganda, but it should not be a prison either. If you see your job becoming an unhealthy habit, quitting is often the only medicine.

9 Moving-Ons

The number 9, as the final single digit, symbolizes the end of a chapter, a completion, a closure. In Hinduism, it is sacred. In Chinese culture, it represents the emperor (just think of that Nine Emperor Gods Festival!). Norse mythology structures the cosmos across nine worlds, while Dante counts the same number of circles in the underworld. Whether you’re ascending or descending, nine is apparently where things wrap up.

On the occasion of Pipeaway’s ninth anniversary, I wanted to share nine lives that brought me here. These are not the only career paths I sprinted through, but they are certainly the stops that shaped major parts of my professional identity.

1. Journalist

My journalism journey began in my teenage years and never truly stopped. Last year marked 30 years of working in media (print, radio, TV, and online). Journalism is my habitus.

What started with timid knocks on the doors of puzzle and youth magazines evolved into TV broadcasting, from local reports to national investigative journalism. I passed everything from radio news to entertainment TV, from daily columns and art reviews to documentaries.

Before switching to travel journalism in English, my Croatian media path is perhaps best recognized through feature stories, which earned me three consecutive annual awards from the national journalists’ association. My most-remembered work was on the talk show Latinica and the political weekly Feral Tribune.

Even though I received some recognition in documentary photography, I still struggle describing myself as a photojournalist on my business card. On Pipeaway, I report not just with words but also images (still and moving), yet the title ‘photographer’ still occasionally makes me feel like an imposter.

2. Artist

If ‘photographer’ makes me feel like an imposter, ‘artist’ sounds even more terrifying.

My personal inclinations were always toward the arts. Drawing, clay sculptures, and writing poetry were my childhood staples. But I never dove this direction all the way. All it took to drive me off-course was winning the national mathematics championship, and my parents steered my education toward the natural sciences instead. I did once apply to become an astronaut, but let’s be realistic: space travel is the least likely form of travel I’ll experience in this lifetime.

In the visual arts, I can only claim participation in two (unpaid) group exhibitions. But for a part of my life, I was earning money through performing arts.

I acted in amateur and professional theater (including the most prestigious national stage – Croatian National Theater), but also took on circus-based work – from clowning and mime to fire manipulation. After all, to balance different professions at the same time, one needs to learn how to juggle first.

3. Event Manager & Producer

Then came the years when I started producing events myself. Whether for commercial clients, shopping centers, tourist boards, cities, and marketing agencies, or for Mala performerska scena, the NGO I led, I spent 13 years rolling up my organizer’s sleeves for festivals, parties, spectacles, film nights, conferences, exhibitions, and other gatherings.

I also assisted other organizations’ productions, including the Zadar Snova contemporary theater festival, the Dance and Non-Verbal Theater Festival in Svetvinčenat, and the World Theater Festival in Zagreb.

4. Creative & Art Director

This one goes hand-in-hand with the previous chapter. Alongside production, I guided many projects as an art director.

The most notable was Festival Novog Cirkusa, an annual international meeting point of contemporary circus shows that reshaped the image of this artistic field in Croatia. Theater experts considered it one of the country’s most important independent art events, and it was nominated for the Audience Awards for Best Festival by Teatar.hr, and for the Creativity and Innovation Award by MRAK network.

I also creatively directed projects that challenged perceptions of other marginalized art forms and artists: body art (Bestiarum), sideshow (Freaky Friday), street art (Arts to the Streets), cabaret & burlesque (Red Room Cabaret), and inclusive performances (with disabled persons, Roma youth, queer groups, elderly people, etc.).

Beyond events, I channeled my interest in creative design into marketing – producing conceptual promotional tools that turned heads (from ‘gloves for applauding’ and ‘invisible booklets’ to promotional campaigns for non-existent political parties).

At one point, I was even offered a copywriter role at the country’s leading mobile provider. I turned it down for a columnist position at a new daily newspaper, and I still occasionally wonder how differently things might have unfolded if I had continued with marketing.

Speaking of jobs in creative industries, I was also the creative director of one season of a TV reality show.

5. Researcher & Lecturer

Both as a media professional and a circus researcher, I didn’t just publish articles in specialist magazines, but also had the chance to transfer knowledge and inspiration through academic and popular stages.

I was a guest speaker at conferences and panels in Croatia (Academy of Dramatic Art, Faculty of Political Sciences, Student Center, Cultural Information Center, Pogon), the United Kingdom (Southbank Centre, University of Stirling, At-Bristol Science Center), Australia (La Trobe University), France (La Villette), Latvia (Latvian Academy of Culture), Serbia (Faculty of Dramatic Arts), Poland (Teatr Stary), Czechia (KD Mlejn), Sweden (Subcase), and Norway (Circus Village Festival).

It might sound like just CV brag, but conversing with curious minds through lectures remains one of the genuinely enjoyable chapters of my professional life.

6. Publisher, Graphic & Web Designer

There were numerous booklets, fanzines, and one-off publications I signed as publisher and graphic designer, but the most significant of these paper products was probably the book “Women & Circus”, so lavishly illustrated that I had to remove it from my luggage at airport security every time I flew. The X-ray, apparently, could not determine whether its density suggested an art book or a solid metal-like block.

I published a couple more books (a collection of “Scary Stories” by a group of writers, and “Conversations on Circus Teachings” by Tomi Purovaara), but also a yearly cultural magazine, Kupusov list, an extension of the online project Kupus.net, a specialized cultural site that Radio 101 awarded Best Website of 2004.

Later, I built several more websites for my event projects. For the past nine years, however, Pipeaway.com has been my only online home.

7. Waiter

After staying in hotels around the world and writing about them, I became increasingly curious about the hospitality industry. I had some Airbnb hosting (Superhost status!) and Couchsurfing experience (free hosting of travelers) before, but I wanted to understand how hotels and resorts operate from within.

Frankly, I also wanted to keep traveling. When the COVID-19 pandemic arrived, and vaccination became mandatory for international movement, hotel workers were among the first to receive their shots. So, I thought, why not become a waiter for a season? Worst case, I’d be travel-ready. Best case, I’d discover a new world.

I started waiting tables in the summer of 2021 at one of the most prestigious hotels in Rovinj. It was a rapid rise from a complete rookie at the pool bar to serving guests at Michelin-recognized restaurants. After Cap Aureo, I went on to Alfred Keller Restaurant and Meneghetti Wine Hotel & Winery.

These were all amazing learning experiences, though it did sometimes feel like I was living a reverse life. I have run my own businesses from a young age, then left entrepreneurship to chase seasonal summer contracts like a student, just a couple of decades later than most. That said, the combination of summers in Croatia and winters in some tropical destinations worked rather well for me.

8. Bell Boy

Working in fine dining had been an immensely interesting social exercise – a choreographed gastronomic performance – and interacting in this game even brought tips on top of a solid salary.

So when an opportunity to work as a bellboy emerged, the lower base wage didn’t discourage me. By then, I’d learned that hospitality rewards kindness: in the end, I was nearly doubling my paycheck with gratuities.

The summer of 2025 was a welcome holiday for my brain. Being available to guests carried no intense burden of responsibility. It was a simple, if sometimes physically demanding, job where I could expand my guest-relations capacities and patience in being kind – something I started cultivating as a waiter.

9. Guest Experience Manager

As I went about my bellhop duties, someone took notice. The hotel’s Guest Experience Manager had decided to take a sabbatical and travel the world for a year (lucky him!). He proposed me as his replacement. After a few more people recommended me for the role, I was appointed Experience Manager at a larger hotel in the chain, leading a six-person department responsible for everything from guest relations to entertainment, sports, and activities.

The job came with an appealing challenge: raising the quality of these services in a hotel that had struggled in this area. I soon discovered that the challenges had not arisen merely from unfortunate circumstances, but were more deeply embedded in the company’s system.

Faced with the fact that I could hardly control what was given to me as a responsibility, after a series of open conversations aimed at aligning our visions of the way forward, I had to say ‘thank you’ to the opportunity, and leave.

Everything is still fresh and, with all the hours invested, the missed chance to genuinely improve the hotel’s offering still stings. But perhaps our shared chapter, in a company bold enough to promote a porter into a manager, was just not destined to be written right now.

Hat trick or treats

These were certainly not the only nine hats I’ve worn throughout my career. While I’ve been reinventing myself like a shape-shifter, the transformations have always felt natural. The transitions between jobs were never truly abrupt. Most of the roles overlapped, sustained by a workaholic schedule that went beyond 9-to-5.

You cannot enter a new room before closing the door that keeps squeaking behind you

Finishing a certain job episode opens up both your views on the market and opportunities to use your skills most constructively. You cannot enter a new room before closing the door that keeps squeaking behind you.

For some people, leaving well-paid positions to insist on principles may seem like a disservice to oneself. But with an experience that demanded constant reinvention and never-ending education, I’ve also learned to trust my intuition.

At one moment, that might be walking away from a lucrative prime-time TV contract rather than let political pressure devalue my journalism. At another, it might mean leaving the finest restaurant because your celebrity chef struggles with owning mistakes. My departures, especially given how stubbornly persistent I am by nature, have usually signaled that the system was going putrid, or we were simply mutual misfits. The kindest thing for both parties is a clean exit.

Changing careers frequently is not for everyone. For me, as I try to evolve both personally and professionally, following a known path makes sense until you reach a wall you genuinely cannot scale. Just because someone is feeding you while you stare at that concrete obstacle doesn’t mean there’s no food on the other side.

As I continue navigating the tourism sector from within, I’ll keep publishing on Pipeaway, this nine-year-old kitten that somehow managed to grow while I was simultaneously embracing at least a third of the professions in this parallel-slalom article.

After nine lives of reinvention, thank you for meowing along.

How many career paths have you changed in your life?
Leave your comment below and pin this article for later!

The post My Nine Lives appeared first on Pipeaway.

If you’re a travel blogger yourself, or simply someone who loves wandering the world through stories, photos, and the occasional rant, this 2025 year review might offer a few useful insights. At the very least, it may lead you to discover Pipeaway articles you somehow missed.

Staying on AdSense is, quite simply, NonSense. If you have the chance, leave it

The year 2025 was once again shaped (some might say bruised) by Google’s ever-evolving algorithms and their relentless impact on small publishers. The February update sent Pipeaway’s search positions, impressions, and clicks plunging straight into the abyss. The September update, in contrast, lifted the site back onto the first page of the world’s most powerful search engine, only to deliver fewer clicks than when the site was languishing on page two. Make it make sense.

On the brighter side, 2025 marked the first full year of Pipeaway running on Mediavine’s Journey instead of Google AdSense. The result? Ad revenue increased tenfold. Consider this your friendly public service announcement, dear bloggers: Staying on AdSense is, quite simply, NonSense. If you have the chance, leave it.

As for domain authority (a MOZ metric), Pipeaway clawed its way back from a DA of 31 to 35 (it lasted from September to November), before slipping again to 32 in December. Progress, regression, repeat. Reaching the pre-2023-update glory days (DA 39) remains unfinished business.

Without further ado, here’s Pipeaway’s review of 2025 that reveals highs, lows, favorite picks (countries, cities, hotels, food), the most-read articles of the year, and a closer look at which traffic sources and backlinks actually managed to bring real humans to the site.

IF YOU’RE INTERESTED IN PREVIOUS YEAR REPORTS, YOU CAN FIND THEM RIGHT HERE:

2024 YEAR IN REVIEW: CHASING MILES, LIVING THE JOURNEY

2023 YEAR IN REVIEW: IS EVERYTHING IN OUR HANDS?

2022 YEAR IN REVIEW: READY FOR RESTART

2021 YEAR IN REVIEW: GOODBYE TO A TRAVEL BLOB

2020 YEAR IN REVIEW: OVERTOURISM AS A DISTANT MEMORY

2019 YEAR IN REVIEW: DOES EXPLORING THE WORLD IN CRISIS MAKE ANY SENSE?

2018 YEAR IN REVIEW: HIKING MOUNTAINS, VOLCANOES, AND CHURCHES

2017 YEAR IN REVIEW: 3 CONTINENTS, 14 COUNTRIES, AND ONE BIG ADVENTURE

Highlights of Pipeaway’s 2025

First, the lowlights

I’m writing this part from Gran Canaria, half-lying in bed, in a brand-new year that immediately introduced itself with an upset stomach. I still don’t know what I ate to deserve this, but somewhere between fasting, sipping lime water, and staring at the ceiling, I’m forcing my brain to function. Fortunately, the weather isn’t great either: fewer outdoor temptations, and zero guilt about ignoring them.

I returned to this Spanish island after six long years, mainly to visit friends I first met through Couchsurfing. The Canary Islands have always been close enough to visit, well-connected, and blessed with reasonably priced flights courtesy of European low-cost carriers. But it was this human connection I made in 2019 that brought me back to “subtropical Europe”.

Clearly, the charm of destinations is not the only incentive that makes us travel to a certain place. People are those who make us feel the connection.

And that realization brings me to my biggest blogging sin of 2025.

Despite meeting genuinely extraordinary individuals on the road (some of them even pre-interviewed), I didn’t publish a single interview in Pipeaway’s selection of extraordinary travelers last year. Not one. No algorithm to blame, no technical excuses to hide behind. Just a failure to follow through.

So here’s a note to myself: this section needs to go up the priority list again. Interviews deserve a proper place in the editorial calendar, scheduled in advance and treated as the valuable assets they are. Some of the best travel stories are told by those who experience them.

Trips for Every Season

In 2025, Pipeaway covered a lot of extraordinary places, enough for you to plan travels in any season. What could that year-round travel menu look like?

Starting in spring, nature lovers might enjoy Alpine adventures along the dreamy Hallstätter See in Austria, or maybe test their nerves at the vertigo-inducing Bisse du Torrent Neuf in Switzerland.

When summer temperatures rise, you could surrender to romantic holidays in Aphrodite’s mythical sanctuary – Kythira Island in Greece.

Discover your inner playfulness at Herbstmesse Basel, a rare medieval autumn fair at the crossroads of France, Germany, and Switzerland, with some rather modern amusement attractions. Across the Atlantic, rides at Pigeon Forge will ignite your child’s spirit. Those who want to deepen their connection with family members of different ages could fall in love with fall during a multi-generational trip to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

And when winter rolls in, hardly anything can beat Scandinavian holidays. Festive lights, design-forward environment, and hygge in all its forms – especially in the major Scandinavian cities. Of course, you could fly your sleigh somewhere completely different – for instance, to Gáldar Navidad, the unexpected Christmas market in Gran Canaria, proving that winter magic doesn’t actually require snow.

Basel – from fantasy to controversy

In 2025, I spent a considerable amount of time in Basel, Switzerland. Just six and a half hours from the UK’s capital (travel by Eurostar’s Chunnel from London to Paris, then hop on a TGV train to your final destination), this Swiss town hosted memorable events worth taking a journey for.

The activities in Basel are plentiful year-round, but 2025 brought a particularly curious mix of international spectacles: some playful, others politically charged, all impossible to ignore.

At the lighter end of the spectrum stood Fantasy Basel, the Swiss Comic Con, one of those gatherings you just have to witness firsthand. Fans who made a hobby out of their passion for imagination meet at Messe Basel, cosplaying their favorite characters from pop culture, and blurring the line between devotion and performance art.

If the US President were to attend this event, he might decide to come as Jesus. Late to the actual Comic Con party, Mason Storm’s Trump eventually did appear in Basel, crucified. The controversial artwork prompted an uncomfortable question: saint or sinner?

I tried to connect the dots between “icons” and icons myself, resulting in the article that confronted two institutions rarely mentioned in the same breath: Kunstmuseum Basel vs. Eurovision. Thanks to Nemo’s victory the year before, Basel hosted the Eurovision Song Contest in 2025.

The world’s greatest televised music competition did not just get people talking for its impressive lineup of cross-national artists, a living illustration of Eurovision’s motto “United by Music”. The most pressing question of ESC’s Basel edition was: why is Israel in Eurovision?

Yuval Raphael ultimately finished second, but I argued that Israel was the real Eurovision 2025 winner.

The country should determine its next Rising Star on January 20, but to help them out, especially at a time when art is increasingly used to whitewash the brutality of real-world atrocities, I dug up the top 15 of non-washed songs, and reflected whether one of these could represent Israel in Eurovision 2026.

Tips for every reason

2025 was also the year of viral videos, none more emblematic than those AI cats Olympics, aimed at our flawed perception developed through centuries of experiencing the inexperience when meeting new technologies.

Yet despite its impressive capacity for deception, AI can also help backpackers and travelers alike. Especially when it comes to documenting trips, artificial intelligence can even be a perfect assistant for making travel videos.

No matter what kind of traveler you are, whether you like everything planned to the last detail, or prefer answering the call of an unknown adventure, there are moments when the assistance of other, actual humans can be essential. Especially if you experience a disruption in your itinerary, you might want to look into how to get a flight cancellation and delay compensation.

Favorite country of 2025 – Egypt

In 2025, I spent a total of 212 days abroad, moving between Thailand, Malaysia, Italy, Switzerland, Austria, Greece, Hungary, and Spain. In November, I added one new stamp to my passport – Egypt – bringing my lifetime total to 49 visited countries.

If we also count the 94 summer days I lived and worked for a hotel on Makarska Riviera in coastal Croatia, the number of nights I slept “somewhere else” climbs to 306.

This means I was in my hometown of Zagreb for barely two months. I spent twice as much time in Switzerland alone (my favorite country of 2021)! So, am I allowed to call my hometown – a hometown anymore?

Statistics aside, the title of my favorite country of 2025 travels goes to the newcomer. Egypt isn’t the easiest country to travel through, I learned that quickly, but I still loved exploring a land once ruled by an ancient civilization I previously knew only from books.

Together with my friend Nikos, I began the journey aboard a Nile cruise, exploring ancient temples, tombs, and relics between Luxor and Abu Simbel. Then we detoured to Hurghada, for a brief immersion in the Red Sea, before concluding our nine-day Egyptian adventure in dusty Cairo. The undeniable highlight was the newly opened Grand Egyptian Museum in Giza, a place that somehow manages to feel monumental even by Egyptian standards.

There is still so much of Egypt left for me to discover. But I’m glad I finally set foot in a country of my late father‘s unrealized travel dreams. I might have seen his beloved pyramids only through the museum’s windows this time, but it’s a beginning. I’ll be back.

Favorite city of 2025 – George Town, Malaysia

As my favorite city of 2025, I solemnly declare George Town, on the Malaysian island of Penang. It’s one of those places where I could imagine myself staying for a while, if only to dedicate serious time to its gastronomic pleasures.

Penang offers no shortage of things to see and explore. From the famous bicycle siblings street art to the illuminated Kek Lok Si Temple at night, the island’s tourism thrives on visual landmarks. But George Town’s real magic isn’t confined to checklists or photo spots. It’s in lived version of multiculturalism.

My favorite time to visit is early in the year, when Penang’s festival calendar turns the island into a living showcase of coexistence. Few places display cultural diversity so vividly. From Bai Tian Gong (or Pai Ti Kong, the Hokkien New Year), through Chap Goh Mei (the Chinese Valentine’s Day), to Thaipusam in Penang (the Hindu festival dedicated to Lord Murugan), George Town becomes a stage for celebrations that don’t compete for attention but share it.

In the growing collection of uninterrupted Pipeaway Walks videos, you can now step directly into these moments – witnessing the explosive energy of Chinese Pai Ti Kong, and following the raw, powerful procession of Thaipusam as it unfolds through the streets of George Town.

Favorite accommodation of 2025 – Hilltop Wellness Resort, Phuket

From the Secret Rooms of Hotel Jama in Postojna, Slovenia, to hidden gems on the Greek island of Kythira (just check out the coziness of The Pigeon House), the world is full of wonderfully quirky places to stay, as long as you permit yourself to experiment. How else are you supposed to stumble upon this masterfully overengineered sink faucet?

Personally, I find charming apartments (places like Kamaraki Aroniadika) a great solution if privacy is high on your priority list. If social interaction is what you’re after, dormitories might be your natural habitat. Just be warned: hostel experiences can range from strange to kinky, often within the same night!

But for the right balance between privacy when you need one and conversation when you crave it, Hilltop Wellness Resort in Phuket takes the crown as my favorite accommodation of 2025. This is an ideal retreat for single female travelers, but judging by this very writer, the appeal of the resort’s fantastic yoga sessions, heritage-inspired activities, and even island tours offered to the guests is far from exclusive.

If you’re curious, you can dive deeper into the full Hilltop Wellness Resort review, enjoy an aerial view of the property, or quite literally walk into a room that has a yoga mat and yoga blocks as a standard amenity.

Favorite food experience of 2025 – Plearn Restaurant, Phuket

If Penang is Malaysia’s island of gastronomy, then Phuket is Thailand’s good-food island. Not only for its vegetarian festival offer that accompanies peculiar traditions such as the Nine Emperor Gods Festival that began two centuries ago at Kathu Shrine, or for its street food achieving Michelin-level recognition, this island is a place where you can explore traditional cuisine packed in a modern way.

Worth mentioning are, for instance, handcrafted chocolate bites at PARADAi Phuket, infused with distinctly local flavors – from Thai milk tea and miang kham to green curry, and even soup-inspired profiles like tom yum and tom kha.

Still, for my favorite food experience of 2025, I pick eating at the Plearn Restaurant, part of the already-commended Hilltop Wellness Resort. From Thai herbal juices to carefully balanced signature cocktails and deeply considered dishes, their menu is a journey in itself, one that makes your plate and palate travel to four distinctive regions of Thailand.

If you are a fan of sour and spicy soups, their tom yum goong and kaeng som arrive at the table as a performance as much as a meal, engaging the senses before the first spoonful even lands.

For something refreshing, yet still firmly rooted in that modern-meets-traditional philosophy, order the Subtle Tomyum signature cocktail with lemongrass-infused vodka, galangal, and chili.

 

View this post on Instagram

 

A post shared by Pipeaway Travel Blog (@pipeaway.project)

Pipeaway’s top stories of 2025

Pipeaway’s most-read stories of 2025 brought one unique (nearly) sleepless airport adventure, an exclusive report on a Eurovision scandal that lasted for a blink of an eye, and a practical guide for navigating the biggest event that hit Basel this year.

These were the articles that captivated readers the most in 2025!

1. Airport Jewel Overnight: Best Things to Do at Singapore Changi Airport in 24 Hours

Pipeaway’s most popular article of the year was a deep dive into a 24-hour stopover at Singapore’s Changi Airport – a place where waterfalls roar, butterflies roam, and rooftop pools overlook the runway. Follow my hour-by-hour journey through the world’s most extraordinary airport, and discover why you might actually want your next layover to last all day!

2. Eurovision Controversy Continues: Baby Lasagna Atop Subliminal Jihad-Funding Messages?

Pipeaway’s most-read Eurovision article of 2025 had no connections to Israel, believe it or not (or I, at least, hope so!)! At the center of this story was Croatia’s Baby Lasagna, whose high-energy Basel performance featured hidden “jihad” messages. After Pipeaway published its findings, Baby Lasagna’s videos were banned in Switzerland. Basel City and the Swiss National Cyber Security Centre gave contradictory statements on the takedown, and in the end, the neighboring canton of Baselland had to take the blame for the YouTube removal.

3. ESC Basel Public Viewing Locations: Where Can You Watch Eurovision in Basel?

Eurovision in Basel had everything from stadium-scale screenings and drag-hosted rooftop parties to disco churches, cozy cinemas, and even a unicorn-guarded museum courtyard. It’s no surprise that Eurovision fever set this article ablaze, too. The superfans wanted to know where to be, especially if they don’t have to break the bank in the process. Can Vienna top that?

Pipeaway’s evergreens

Among the oldies-but-goldies, Budapest desserts sweetened up the top five, nudging one long-standing favorite (on the benefits of sitting at the back of a plane) down the chart.

These were the readers’ favorite Pipeaway classics in 2025:

1. Clothing-Optional Resorts in Greece for Your Best Naturist Holidays

2. Top 5 Jjimjilbangs in Seoul

3. Fat People on Planes: How to Survive Flying While Fat

4. 7 Best Nude Beaches in Greece’s Cyclades Islands: Naked and Unafraid

5. Budapastry: 12 Best Hungarian Desserts in Budapest

Traffic sources in 2025

Organic search remains the backbone of Pipeaway’s traffic, accounting for 55.4% of visits.

But the highest growth in traffic acquisition has been noticed in direct visits (which more than doubled to 34% of total traffic), and email clicks (now at 1.85%), mostly thanks to the weekly newsletter. I choose to see this as a sign of growing Pipeaway brand loyalty, and quietly hope it continues.

Organic social media acquisition, however, has been more than halved, and now sits at 5.8%.

Among platforms, even if with lower traffic volume than before, Pinterest still leads, contributing 84.7% of Pipeaway’s social traffic (up from 81.1% in 2024). Pipeaway’s Pinterest account now boasts 1,041 followers (a 1.7% yearly growth) and 101k monthly viewers. Over 2025, pins were displayed 1.3 million times, racking up 51.2k interactions. The top-performing pins were tips on landing a pilot job, petting hyenas in Africa, sneaking into Berghain, free things to do in Basel, and Barbie hotels.

Facebook follows with 11.3 % of social traffic. The follower count at Pipeaway’s Facebook page dipped slightly to 12,069 (1.1% decrease). As I minimized activity on social media, the reach naturally dropped – to 42k views, with only 541 interactions (97.7% drop from those 2024’s viral posts). Paradoxically, link clicks from Facebook increased to 170 (a 46.6% boost from the “viral year”), proving once again that social media algorithms are gloriously inscrutable.

Still barely holding for the third spot, eX-Twitter contributed just 2.2% of social media acquisitions. The Pipeaway Twitter account currently has 1,388 followers (down 25 from 2024). Pipeaway’s Bluesky social account started a year ago, with just basic posting of updates when the new article is out – now it has 26 followers, and traffic is roughly one-quarter that of Twitter!

Pipeaway’s own newsletter proved that a smaller, curated network can outperform mega-platforms

In the fourth place, we have a climber in acquired traffic – YouTube brought 1.1% of social media-sourced views. Pipeaway’s YouTube channel saw 87.1k views in 2025, a 333% increase from 2024. Viewers spent a total of 997 hours watching videos (up 92%). Subscribers grew 29.8%, from 275 to 357. The most-watched videos were AI Zoolympics (11,221 views), ‘Free Palestine’ at Eurovision (10,971), and the Swiss-banned Baby Lasagna’s video with subliminal messages (10,706).

Instagram-sourced traffic continued to be minimal, now contributing just 1% of social traffic. Pipeaway’s Instagram followers’ base decreased by an additional 2.5% last year, now at 5,233. Instagram reach dropped to 15.3k (23.5% yearly loss), reflecting my decision to deprioritize the platform.

Meanwhile, Pipeaway’s own newsletter proved that a smaller, curated network can outperform mega-platforms. After cleaning inactive subscribers, 417 readers now receive a weekly email. In 2025, 52 newsletters generated 1936 incoming link clicks (three times the number from 2024), averaging 37 clicks per edition. Open rate hit 31.6% (above MailChimp’s 29.8% industry average), click rate 1.3% (room to grow toward the 3.5% benchmark), and unsubscribes dropped to 0.46% (competitors’ is 0.21%)

A 2025 twist? AI has become a traffic source! In Pipeaway’s case, ChatGPT sent the most artificial intelligence-sourced traffic, practically matching the combined contributions of Facebook and Twitter. With fewer numbers, it’s been followed by Perplexity and Gemini.

Greatest Mentions of 2025

As of January 2025, 1,518 domains are referring to Pipeaway. That’s a modest 1.4% increase from the same month last year. Let’s take a look at what drew this attention!

While major outlets largely slept on it, Pipeaway’s Baby Lasagna story caught the eye of bz Basel, a regional Swiss newspaper, and was then republished by another CH Media outlet – Watson.

One of Pipeaway’s content follow-ups from Cyprus, however, got quite a serious development. Two years after our interview with Alexey Gubarev, the Russian-born Cypriot behind the MadWay Rally, Cyprus Daily News–associated website Cynews.cc published an article exposing alleged corruption schemes involving a suspicious Bishkek development project and even gold smuggling to Cyprus, possibly involving relatives of Kyrgyzstan’s President Sadyr Japarov. Pipeaway’s interview was used to illustrate “the scale of Gubarev’s spending on entertainment events, which are available to very few”. A month later, Boris Demash, the news outlet’s founder, was arrested on charges of defamation and a disinformation campaign targeting the entrepreneur.

Pipeaway’s 2024 big research also led to Cyprus, but this year, it circled back to the Balkans. Bulgarian outlets Club Z and Zarata Novini referenced our investigation into the lost suitcases for sale scam after exposing a fraud at Sofia Airport.

But mentions weren’t limited to investigative reporting. Listicles, guides, and lifestyle blogs frequently linked back to Pipeaway content:

• We3travel.com featured Zagori, known for its ancient Greek bridges, in a list of lesser-known Greek destinations locals wish tourists would ignore.
• Africa Wanderlust included Lopburi in its roundup of places where animals are treated like VIPs, citing my Monkey Buffet Festival.
• Chiang Rai Times linked to my article on Phuket’s vegetarian food while covering the island’s Vegetarian Festival.
• The Helpful Panda referenced Pipeaway’s coverage of Chap Goh Mei, the Chinese-Malaysian festival where oranges fly in the name of love.
• The Gone Goat used my Crazy House review in their Dalat itinerary, proving bizarre accommodations are forever relevant.
• Mostly Amélie, a Berlin-based lifestyle blog, linked to Pipeaway’s report inside Berghain while covering her guide to the KitKat Club.
• Hungary Unlocked featured the best Budapest spots for traditional sweets, linking out to patisserie-cafes mentioned in my article on Hungarian desserts.

Thank you to my supportive circle

In 2025, hotels and hostels partnered with me, enabling stays that wouldn’t be possible without them. I always acknowledge these collaborations in the articles themselves. But the quiet support of the people who help me behind the scenes and without grand mentions sometimes remains in the shadows.

I want to express my deepest-bow-level gratitude to the friendly hosts who continually back me up around the world. In 2025, this incredible circle included Corrado in Trieste, Mladen in Sion and Basel, Nikos in Athens and Egypt, and Paul & Lars in Maspalomas.

I am endlessly thankful for their time, space, encouragement, and company. Whether we spent shared moments in stay-ins or chased outdoor adventures, every experience felt brighter by not going through it alone.

Having such selfless, generous individuals as friends is perhaps the greatest, comfort-infusing privilege a traveler can hope for.

Thank you all.

Looking Back, Looking Forward: What’s Next?

As 2025 fades into the rearview mirror, the 2026 plan is simple: keep exploring, keep learning, and keep sharing. More interviews with extraordinary travelers, more hidden corners of the world, more food worth falling into, and definitely more stories that make you shake your head or laugh out loud.

But 2026 will also be a year of grounding for this travel blogger. After being absent from my hometown of Zagreb for practically 10 months of 2025, I’ll finally be spending more time in Croatia, but then again, in a new place I’ll call home.

As soon as I finish my winter break in the Canary Islands, I’ll be flying to Budapest, spend some nights in Hungary, and then return to Zagreb via bus or train.

Starting in February, Dalmatia will be my base. I accepted a one-year contract with a hotel, and will be more or less anchored in southern Croatia, somewhere between Split and Dubrovnik.

Surely, I’ll try to find some time to hop over to nearby Mediterranean destinations (some of the countries I might still get a chance to visit are Turkey, Cyprus, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Montenegro, Albania, Italy, Greece…).

When winter arrives, I might be tempted to chase the sun somewhere else entirely, depending on how the new gig goes. I’ll embrace it as both a challenge and an opportunity.

Wish me luck.

I wish you the same for whatever challenge you decide to tackle in 2026.

Wherever you are, stay safe and curious!

Did you like this 2025 year in review?
Pin it for later!

The post 2025 Year in Review: <br />10 Countries, 306 Days on the Road appeared first on Pipeaway.

Cheap stays in hostels can turn into priceless one-of-a-kind anecdotes

From backpacking in Java to finding shelter in Tokyo art holes, I’ve learned that budget stays can be as extraordinary as 5-star resorts. Hostels aren’t just a cheap alternative, they are creative spaces where hospitality gets experimental. They connect travelers from every cultural background in the most direct way. You cannot experience that by brushing your shoulders at a breakfast buffet in some all-inclusive hotel.

The quick turnover of hostel guests means that at any given moment, you might be sharing a dorm with a variety of individuals: maybe a snorer of symphonic proportions, a nocturnal potato chip enthusiast, or someone who believes clothing is a suggestion. Equally, hostels can have drastically different standards too. Flexibility and tolerance are things hostel guests are constantly training in.

In the end, it comes down to that old idea that you get what you pay for. If you’re an adaptable person, some of these cheap stays can turn into priceless one-of-a-kind anecdotes, rather than just an entry in your stress journal.

Are you ready for another listicle of weirdness? Here are eight of my most bizarre hostel stays, starting with one where I was the one bringing the bizarre to the table!

TL;DR: Hostels are a budget traveler’s paradise - but also a breeding ground for bizarre experiences. From questionable hygiene habits and mysterious bathroom disasters to rodent encounters and unexpected fetishes, this listicle dives into the wildest, weirdest, and most unsettling moments of shared dorm life. If you think your hostel stay was bad, wait until you read these stories!

Top 8 bizarre hostel episodes

1. Sleep-talking episodes

Those who had the “privilege” (or misfortune?) to share a night with me, know that I occasionally moonlight as somnambulist. While my sleepwalking days aren’t as frequent anymore, sleep-talking still makes surprise guest appearances. Two of my most memorable night-scream episodes bookend my hostel experiences in Malaysia: the first in 2017, and the most recent in 2025.

Eight years ago, still somewhat jet-lagged after arriving from Europe, I booked a hostel on Penang Island. I snagged a lower bunk bed, my preferred choice even today, as I just hate climbing up and down whenever I need anything.

But the top bed was so low that sitting upright in the lower one was not an option. In the middle of the night, I must have sat up too fast and smashed my head against the upper bed. My half-asleep brain interpreted this differently: I was levitating, my head pressed against the ceiling!

Despite being stuck in this strange, weightless panic, the logical side of my brain was somewhat aware that I was in a hostel. I screamed: “Guys, help me!”

As soon as I heard myself (yelling loudly enough to startle even myself awake), I threw the blanket over my head in embarrassment and pretended to sleep.

Something similar happened in 2025, during my last hostel stay in Malaysia, now in Kuala Lumpur. I dreamed that I was trapped inside a pitch-dark cave, no flashlight, no phone. In sheer terror, I yelled: “Help!”

Again, that woke me up, but also others in the 4-bed room. An Indian bunkmate on the top bed flicked on the light and slid open his curtain, asking if I was fine. He thought I spotted a cockroach. “It was just a nightmare”, I was lucky to confirm.

I actually did have a somewhat nightmarish experience in Vietnam where I was left in the darkness when someone decided to turn off the cave lights earlier than scheduled. You can read about this experience in the article about the Hell Cave.

2. Snoring episode

While I can understand it can startle people, sleep-talking is luckily mostly a brief event. There is, however, one sleep disorder that can easily ruin an entire night of stand-byers – snoring.

Every fourth person in the world regularly snores, which means that the likelihood of encountering a human chainsaw in a hostel room is quite significant.

During my recent stay in one hostel in Chiang Mai, Thailand, a hostel guest engaged in snoring so loudly that it essentially ruined everyone’s prospect of getting a good night’s sleep. Besides being noisy, his snoring was also chaotically creative, switching tempos and tones, and ensuring that you couldn’t even fall asleep by listening to a typical snoring monotony.

The roommates groaned, some sighed heavily, hoping passive aggression would work. It didn’t. No one dared to wake him up, because – sleep is sacred, right?

One girl hit her breaking point. She took her sheets and frustration outside, fleeing to the hostel’s common areas for the night.

Snoring is definitely a common occurrence in world hostels. If you don’t have earplugs, your politeness will not protect you from the noise.

Honestly, I think snorers should do the honorable thing and book private rooms. Or better yet, hostels could also consider separating dorms not based on gender, but on whether you snore or not. Some Seoul jjimjilbangs, for instance, have snorer-only dorms. Maybe that strategy should be implemented in other places where more people try to get sleep.

You can experience strangeness when you stay at people’s homes too. Read these extraordinary Couchsurfing stories!

3. Stinky episode

People have different habits when it comes to personal hygiene. While my hostel experience says that the strong and unpleasant smell of hostel visitors is mostly never unbearable, simply because hostels come with free showers, it can still happen that someone simply rejects showing compassion towards other guests’ noses.

When I entered a dorm in one hostel in Panglao, the Philippines, I noticed a small electronic device in the corner. Thinking it was an apparatus against mosquitos, I braced for sleepless nights of buzzing near my ears.

Later, I noticed an unpleasant odor spreading in the room. It was coming from a capsule next to mine. One of the ten roommates seemingly boycotted personal hygiene.

I understand not everyone’s situation in life can provide access to running water and soap (for instance, homeless people). But this was someone who could clearly afford to travel, and filth came down to a lifestyle choice.

It took me two days to admit defeat and report it to reception. I had a hard time verbalizing it, but they already knew it.

First, they tried opening the doors to vent it all out. They turned off the AC, hoping that the tropical heat would press him to use the showers. Then they installed an air freshener, a device I had mistaken for a mosquito repellent.

Nothing worked. Even when they confronted him directly and gifted him some shower amenities, he refused to get anywhere close to water. He remained in his capsule, glued to his phone, blissfully ignorant of the olfactory apocalypse he was causing.

In Pipeaway’s earlier anniversary listicles, you could read about the most WTF moments, and the dangers of traveling!

4. Peeing episode

I love sleeping to the sound of rain. The monotonous raindrops hitting the window, and even the sound of thunder and downpour in the street, are nature’s white noise. But not all liquid soundtracks have the same lulling effect.

In Budapest, Hungary, I once woke up in the middle of the night. Unusual sounds were coming from my top bunk bed neighbor (Remember, the bottom bed is a blessing! Or is it?).

Without seeing what was going on, I could vividly interpret it: this hostel guest was peeing in a bottle. Then you could hear him drinking from a bottle (I imagined – the same one). And then he would pee again, and drink again. The process was circular.

At 3 am, your brain struggles to process pee-based horror. I tried to convince myself I was imagining it. After all, you cannot just peek behind the privacy curtain to check. At least nothing was leaking, so I buried my face in the pillow, trying to escape the noise.

Morning arrived, and I could hear my nervous bunkmate repetitively brushing his bed (the sound I interpreted as cleaning the mattress). Fetishist confirmed.

I can respect everyone’s kink, as long as it comes with the consent of all involved parties. This was someone’s personal experience with sound effects that don’t let others sleep. Maybe he was getting off by the prospect of being caught in the act?

While I felt embarrassed to speak concretely about my concerns to the hostel staff, they were kind enough to transfer me to another room. At checkout, I did spill the beans about my experience, and the staff looked shook. Apparently, he was a regular, always coming for one night only. They may have banned him from future visits. What a bizarre hostel hobby!

For the best hostel prices, consider booking them through this site!

5. Pooping episodes

Some hostel memories are better flushed from memory. Easier said than done.

In another Budapest hostel, I had an experience where disgust was more concrete than just imagining the geysers of pee bubbling behind someone’s curtain.

One morning, I entered the bathroom, and – I shit you not – there were actual pieces of poop scattered around. I could not imagine how that even happened, but someone’s intestines seemed to have had a truly rough night. Or was it some avant-garde protest statement?

Whatever it was, my need to use the toilet instantly vanished. I was just happy to return to the room and postponed answering nature’s call for another time, probably another place too.

Another constipation-inducing event struck recently on Koh Lipe Island, Thailand. Someone ignored the golden rule of not flushing toilet paper and clogged the entire system. Instead of confessing their crime, they buried the evidence under even more layers of paper. Who was the master hiding the masterpiece from?

Hostel dorms are perfect for anonymous escapes, which is exactly what this culprit did, leaving others to discover and report their fecal fiasco.

Whether it’s a Jackson Pollock-style bathroom surprise or a toilet paper burial ritual, pooping episodes are among the wildest bizarre hostel experiences one could possibly dream of. In nightmares, of course.

6. Insect episode

Bedbugs are not uncommon in hostels. Fortunately, I’ve never had a personal run-in with these unpleasant roommates. So my experiences with them were only indirect.

In one hotel I stayed in Split, Croatia, a guest woke up with a swollen eye, which was bad enough for everyone to evacuate.

But that’s not what I’d call a bizarre hostel experience. It might be I survived bedbug attacks mainly because – I didn’t sleep in my bed at all?

One overzealous Asian guest decided to burn a mosquito coil – indoors! He placed it under the bed, hoping to have a good sleep. When we figured out what was happening, it was already too late. The room became an unbearable toxic gas chamber. Even opening windows couldn’t clear it up.

There was no night receptionist at this hostel, so all I could do was wait for the morning in the common area. I suppose that technically saved me from bedbugs, but I wouldn’t exactly send the guy a thank-you note.

Besides insect-related adventures, this hostel stayed in my memory for having the worst shower system imaginable. You had to press the button, and then the water would run for literally one (1!) second, as if we were on a really stingy beach. If you didn’t have octopus arms, it was impossible to wash yourself properly – one hand holding the shower head, the other one pressing the button. Did I need to find a shower buddy in order to rub the shampoo out of my hair in one second?

7. Rodent episodes

In Malaysia, I had close encounters with fauna larger than bugs. Rodents of various sizes have been using the same premises as hostel guests.

When I was coming back from the bathroom one night in Penang, tiptoeing on squeaking hallway floors to not wake up anyone, I startled a local mouse running around.

Frightened, the little fellow ran through the hallway and, like a contortionist, squeezed through the opening beneath the door, escaping right into the dorm room where I was staying.

As it was night, I didn’t want to turn on the lights, but I was also glad that the hostel was quite full, so I was given a usually dreaded top bunk bed. The next day a bottom bunk bed freed up, and the receptionist who knew my preference offered to move me down, but I gratefully declined.

On Langkawi island, further north towards Thailand, I had a dorm all to myself. I love it when it happens that I get what is technically a single room for a fraction of the price.

But as I woke up to prepare breakfast, I noticed a rat casually strolling behind the glassed-off area. Technically it was outside of the breakfast room, but it was not inaccessible if the furry guest wanted to pay a visit.

Once in a while, I love having no hostel roommates. But if I must have them, I prefer they have only two legs.

Speaking of rats, I once couch-surfed in a house in Indonesia where I had a similar midnight face-to-face encounter with a rodent. But that’s another story you can read in my collection of Couchsurfing (not only) horror experiences.

8. Hygiene episodes

Last but not least bizarre hostel experiences I’ll mention here are all about encounters with hostel staff. I understand hostels need to make their operations economical, but I don’t approve of it being done at the expense of hygiene.

These are just some instances when I learned that my and hostel’s cleanliness standards do not match:

In Phuket, Thailand, I checked in only to find my bed covered in fresh stains, hair, and crumbs. Housekeeping graciously agreed to change the sheets. They took them off, laughed, and put them back on. As if I wouldn’t check. I ended up changing it all by myself, uncovering even more yellow stains under the sheets. The fake change insulted my intelligence, and anyway, doesn’t it take the same amount of energy as doing it for real?

I noticed a similar approach to cleanliness in one hostel in Luang Prabang, Laos. When there would be a guest change, the staff would put the new sheet, but the duvet cover remained. They’d just generously spray some nice scent over it, to make it seem fresh. So while you were sleeping on a clean sheet, you were covering yourself with the same duvet as probably dozens of guests before you.

In one hostel in Postojna, Slovenia, I noticed all three bathroom soap dispensers were empty. When I told the receptionist, she shrugged: Housekeeping comes tomorrow. I volunteered to refill the dispensers myself, as I didn’t want to wait 24 hours to wash my hands, but apparently, that was against the protocol.

One hostel in Ayutthaya, Thailand, had an included breakfast. As I arrived at the place by night train, it was way too early to check-in. But this gave me enough time to see how this nice-looking breakfast was being prepared. A receptionist/housekeeper was meticulously placing a variety of small food items on display plates, touching every single piece with her bare hands. In addition, she was coughing non-stop. Instead of taking a sick day, she was serving germs on cakes. I gratefully skipped those meals.

There are many other examples of tragic hygiene standards in hostels. I’ve seen everything from filthy toilet seats and dust-thick staircases with footprints included to balls of hair screaming to be removed from moldy showers and garbage lying on the floor for days.

As hostels are not someone’s personal space, but an actual hospitality business, this approach to cleanliness is not just bizarre. It is downright unacceptable.

Bizarre hostel experiences – Conclusion

Hostels are more than just budget accommodations. They can also be social experiments with questionable hygiene, unexpected wildlife, and the occasional performance art involving bodily functions.

Hostels aren’t just places to sleep. They’re where stories happen

From peeing bottle enthusiasts to phantom poopers and bed-changing scams, my bizarre hostel experiences have ranged from mildly amusing to outright traumatic.

And yet, here I am, still booking dorm beds, still rolling the dice on whether my bunkmate is a snorer or a secret rodent summoner.

Because at the end of the day, hostels aren’t just places to sleep. They’re where stories happen – the kind you’ll be laughing about for years.

If nothing else, they teach you resilience and adaptability.

Would I trade these hostel experiences for a sanitized, drama-free hotel room, with nobody around to affect my sense of peace? Maybe. Sometimes I do. But that’s less exciting to write about on the occasion of a blog anniversary.

Do you have your own bizarre hostel experiences?
Share them in the comments and pin this article for later!

The post 8 Bizarre Hostel Experiences That Will Make You Miss Your Own Bed appeared first on Pipeaway.

In October, Pipeaway was accepted into the Journey ad program by Mediavine. Already in the first month, the payout was 20 times larger than Google’s

After 2023, which brought relative successes to this website despite Google’s autumn algorithm ambush, 2024 didn’t quite deliver the recovery I’d hoped for. The year ended with traffic at just 43% of the previous year, with notable nosedives during April-June, and another plunge in August-September (both months having barely a third of March traffic, for instance).

Of course, it didn’t help that I stopped publishing new content from June to August. Seasonal hotel work stepped in as the breadwinner, while the blog took an involuntary summer break.

The good news is that, in October, Pipeaway was accepted into the Journey ad program by Mediavine. Already in the first month, the payout from Journey ads was 20 times larger than what stingy Google Ads were bringing, and that’s a huge difference.

Also in October, a certain amount of traffic recovery started happening, hopefully announcing brighter days behind the horizon.

We’ve already passed the horizon into 2025, so let’s not delay with looking back – here’s Pipeaway’s review of the year 2024!

IF YOU’RE INTERESTED IN PREVIOUS YEAR REPORTS, YOU CAN FIND THEM RIGHT HERE:

2023 YEAR IN REVIEW: IS EVERYTHING IN OUR HANDS?

2022 YEAR IN REVIEW: READY FOR RESTART

2021 YEAR IN REVIEW: GOODBYE TO A TRAVEL BLOB

2020 YEAR IN REVIEW: OVERTOURISM AS A DISTANT MEMORY

2019 YEAR IN REVIEW: DOES EXPLORING THE WORLD IN CRISIS MAKE ANY SENSE?

2018 YEAR IN REVIEW: HIKING MOUNTAINS, VOLCANOES AND CHURCHES

2017 YEAR IN REVIEW: 3 CONTINENTS, 14 COUNTRIES AND ONE BIG ADVENTURE

Highlights of Pipeaway’s 2024 – from alien PR to Virgin Lions

While we’ve explored some classic contenders for idyllic holidays (be it a south of France vacation or even day trips from Southampton), there’s no mapping the extraordinary without leaving the beaten path.

The year kicked off with some quirky tourism PR campaigns, starring horses, and even aliens, and proving that thinking outside the box can present travel as both fun and memorable.

But if you’re looking for a truly entertaining read, nothing can beat hilarious travel experiences gathered in our collection of destination mix-ups. Geography, as it turns out, is not everyone’s forte. And no, Australia is not named after Austria!

But the Virgin Islands are Virgin Lions, if you ask Journey Castillo, a pint-sized traveler who’s less than half the age of this website. She started her travels at just two weeks old and, by the age of three, she had already visited all 63 U.S. national parks! Journey was the youngest extraordinary traveler I’ve had the privilege of interviewing, 27 times younger, in fact, than those TikTok Traveling Grannies, still on the road.

If you want to meet more fascinating people, read the inspiring story of Shannon Coggins and her slow-travel family. They left their UK home, to attend a wedding in Australia, with the idea of never taking a flight.

Speaking of planes, if you do fly, don’t forget the importance of aircraft seat belts. And if you travel by ferry, buckle up your rabbit too!

Lost luggage scam – the article they tried to hide

For me personally, one of the most significant articles published on Pipeaway in 2024 was the one on the murky world of lost luggage sales. This elaborate scam thrives on fake Facebook pages promising unclaimed baggage from airports at ridiculously low prices. In the shadows, scammers steal people’s personal information, and money.

The article clearly poked a very active hornet’s nest. In October, a certain someone from Denmark (identity now redacted, as I wasn’t smart enough to screenshot it immediately) filed a bogus DMCA claim. It came through Tolas LLC, a Texas-based company with 10,000 active complaints to Google and counting.

According to them, my article about purchasing lost suitcases somehow infringed upon the copyright of an article about a serial rapist case. Despite the lack of any resemblance, the DMCA complaint was enough to temporarily banish Pipeaway’s piece from Google Search. It took me an entire month to reach Google and reinstate the article in search results so that it could keep travelers informed and scammers on edge.

Goodbyes and Hi’s of 2024

Septembers on Pipeaway now start to seem to be reserved for delayed farewells. Just like in 2023, when I wrote about the spring departure of a fellow traveler Fathin Naufal, the past September, I published an article inspired by the brief encounters with another departed creative spirit – Angela Laurier. More than just an “in memoriam” for a renowned contortionist (or less than it?), the post was my reflection on the pressures of performing and the importance of prioritizing mental health.

As Pipeaway turned seven in March, I unburied dangerous travel situations, some of which brought me quite close to that thin border the unlucky ones crossed. From rather benign, burning my soles in the Vietnamese desert, to fracturing ribs in a Finnish bathtub, and even a breathless scuba diving scare in Greece, I uncovered my personal heart-pounding and scarring travel moments.

But besides the personal section of the website, I started leaning into more subjective storytelling through the Pipeaway newsletter, especially since October, after a three-month silence made me rethink all of it. While I still believe the old newsletter format had much more to give, I wanted to be realistic, and, instead of curating others’ content week by week, on a level that I wanted to do it, I decided I had to put a pause on that system and focus on updates tied to my travels and stories freshly published on Pipeaway.

From “hi from frosty Zagreb” to “hi from Davao”, I greeted you with the “weekly” newsletter 38 times last year (the number was affected by the break between July’s goodbye and October’s hi-comeback).

The newsletter gained 89 new subscribers in 2024 (a 27.1% increase from the previous year), bringing the total subscriber count from 477 to 499 (4.6% growth). The final number reflects two simultaneous processes – some subscribers leave the service, while others are trimmed for inactivity (not opening the newsletter for months). I try to continue publishing it for real, engaged users, and not pump up misleading statistics.

Currently, Pipeaway’s newsletters’ open rate is 29.9% (the industry average, according to MailChimp, is 29.1%). There’s room for improvement in the click rate (1% vs. the peers’ 3.5%) and unsubscribe rate (currently, 0.51%, compared to peers’ 0.22%).

2024 Favorites

Favorite country of 2024 – Thailand

In 2024, I spent a total of 134 days abroad, wandering through Switzerland, Spain, Slovenia, Singapore, and – not only for the sake of alphabetic diversity – Italy, Hungary, Greece, Thailand, and the Philippines.

Add to that 88 days of summer, when I lived in coastal Croatia (splitting time between Ugljan and Bale), and worked as a seasonal worker in two luxury hotels.

That means I spent 222 nights “somewhere else”, and only 144 in my hometown. Well, what is home, anyway? For the first time ever, it seems I don’t have one. In Zagreb, now I only rent a storage unit for my belongings.

My favorite country from 2024 travels has to be the one where I had to pay a visa overstay fine – Thailand.

In two months and those misfortunate extra two days, I visited quite a few unforgettable festivals in this Southeast Asian country. I was counting Phuket Vegetarian Festival scars at Naka Shrine, and other local Chinese temples that I’ve yet to write about.

At the Lopburi Monkey Festival, I attended a banquet for long-tailed macaques, while in Surin, I followed an elephant parade, which became the most-watched video in my newly launched Pipeaway Walks series. If you want to stroll through more of Thailand, you can visit everything from One Nimman Night Market to Ban Nam Khem Memorial Park for the Khao Lak tsunami.

As I am spending January in Thailand too, you can expect even more content from this country throughout 2025.

Favorite city of 2024 – Singapore

The title of my favorite city in 2024 goes to Singapore – a city, a state, and a layover paradise all rolled into one. Fittingly, I rang in the New Year there, but not where you might expect. While others celebrated under Marina Bay Sands’ iconic skyline, I was at Changi Airport!

That’s right, on the longest night of the year, I endured my personal longest layover ever: 24 hours at the airport consistently ranking as the best in the world.

I love Singapore in general, but this jewel of an airport is not just a transit hub. It’s a destination in itself, with attractions that could put many actual cities to shame. From lush indoor gardens to entertainment zones, this is the airport where the word “layover” feels like an adventure rather than an inconvenience.

A full report on my day exploring this aviation utopia is coming up, so stay tuned!

Favorite accommodation of 2024 – Elvira’s Homestay

For my accommodation pick of the year, I wanted to put a spotlight on a humble yet heartwarming spot: Elvira’s Homestay on the island of Panglao in the Philippines.

There’s something undeniably restorative about finding genuine warmth in the hospitality of locals, especially when they treat you like family. I wrote about how travel can connect us with new tribes in the 147th edition of the newsletter.

In 2024, I found some unexpected kindness among the Wizz Air plane seats too. Read on to find out how a young passenger and two flight attendants went above and beyond to assist a fellow traveler.

In a world that often feels hurried and disconnected, these pockets of kindness and generosity deserve celebration. To Elvira, and everyone who offers a helping hand – take a bow.

Favorite food experience of 2024 – Vegetarian food in Phuket

As the day of lovers is approaching, you may be interested to consult Pipeaway’s guide through Valentine’s food gifts.

My precious, chocolate, has been a sour topic in 2024, as the world witnessed cocoa prices skyrocketing. I hope my AI-generated creations were a better experience than the catastrophe that was Willy’s Chocolate Experience in Glasgow, an event organized by the House of Illuminati. They promised a magical Willy Wonka-like wonderland but delivered a disastrous nightmare instead.

However, my dearest gastronomic experience of 2024 has to be vegetarian food in Phuket, home to Thailand’s vibrant Jae Festival, a nine-day Taoist celebration where the entire town takes meat off the menu.

Pipeaway’s top articles of 2024

Pipeaway’s stories that resonated the most with readers in 2024 were diving deeper into movies, images, and music that made us think. These were the blog posts that captivated our audience this year:

1. Society of the Snow Survivor Lessons: How Did They Survive?

Pipeaway’s most-read article published in 2024 covered the harrowing true story of the 1972 Andes plane crash, which inspired the Netflix film “Society of the Snow”. It recounted how 16 out of 45 passengers endured 72 brutal days in freezing mountains, relying on extreme survival tactics. There are some priceless lessons here, even if we hope never to need them!

2. AI Fools: You Know These Facebook Pictures Aren’t Real, Right?

In the second place of 2024 articles that grabbed most attention was the one that tackled the rise of AI-generated images on Facebook, and how they are increasingly confusing users, or even fooling them into believing they’re looking at real photos. Image generators have become a solid partner in crime, so you have to double up your vigilance when clicking on that thumb-up. Otherwise, you might be exposing yourself to fraud and deception.

3. Divided by Music: Eurovision, From Euphoria to EU-phobia

This article discussed the 2024 Eurovision Song Contest, which highlighted the divisions on the continent. The event, held in Malmö, Sweden, was marked by controversies, including protests, bans, and disqualifications. The slogan “United by Music” seemed ironic as political and social issues dominated the competition.

Pipeaway’s Facebook posts connected with the Eurosong went viral, with this one reaching 765 thousand users, and gaining 13.9k likes, 501 shares, and 383 comments.

Pipeaway’s timeless hits

Among the oldies but goldies, Greek nudism articles from 2021 and 2022 made a triumphant return to the top, reshuffling the rankings. These are the readers’ favorites among Pipeaway’s classics in 2024:

1. Clothing-Optional Resorts in Greece for Your Best Naturist Holidays

2. Top 5 Jjimjilbangs in Seoul

3. 7 Best Nude Beaches in Greece’s Cyclades Islands: Naked and Unafraid

4. Fat People on Planes: How to Survive Flying While Fat

5. Selecting a Plane Seat: 5 Reasons Why Last Row Should be First Choice

Social media in 2024

While organic search (68.3%) and direct visits (14.4%) continue to be the primary sources of traffic for Pipeaway, we saw a slight drop in their percentages in 2024. However, a notable shift occurred in the organic social channel, which grew substantially from 3.3% in 2023 to 13.8% in 2024. Diversifying traffic sources has proven to be a smart survival strategy.

Among social media platforms, Pinterest led the charge, bringing in 81.1% of Pipeaway’s social traffic, up from 61.4% in 2023. Pipeaway’s Pinterest account now boasts 1,024 followers (a 19.3% yearly growth) and 141k monthly viewers, which is 2.5 times more than the previous year. In total, Pipeaway’s pins were shown 1.7 million times, with 94.6k interactions. One of the top-performing pins is related to the article on how to become a pilot.

Facebook follows Pinterest, now accounting for 13.6 % of social media traffic. The number of followers on Pipeaway’s Facebook page grew to 12,201, with 474 net follows (a staggering 4.6k% increase). Largely fueled by those viral posts, Facebook reach has grown by 2.8k%, to a total of 1,030,949. Content interactions also grew by 1.4k%, totaling 23.3k.

Ex-Twitter continued showing a decline in relevance and now contributes only 1.7% of social media traffic. The Pipeaway Twitter account currently has 1,413 followers (up 16 from 2023). At the end of December, I started Pipeaway’s Bluesky social account, which currently has 10 followers.

Instagram’s contribution to social media traffic has become minimal, dropping from 2.7% to just 0.7%. Pipeaway’s Instagram followers base decreased by an additional 4% last year, now at 5,366. But despite fewer followers, Instagram’s reach was 20,065 (33.1% yearly growth), and there were 899 content interactions (100% growth).

In fifth place, this time we have Flipboard. It brought in just 0.6% of all social media traffic. As it only uses automatic postings, I don’t engage much on this platform, making it a passive traffic source. Pipeaway’s Flipboard profile has only 17 followers.

On the other hand, Pipeaway’s YouTube channel had 20.1k views in 2024, 66% less than the year before. Viewers spent a total of 521 hours watching videos. The subscriber count grew by 10.1%, from 248 to 275. The most-watched video was a quick peek into the world of Khanom A Pong, a Michelin-recommended street food stall in Phuket (6,626 views).

Beyond Pinterest, which brings the majority of social traffic without me even being engaged on it much (I should really focus more on that!), other platforms seem to serve more as branding tools than substantial traffic drivers. Despite regularly posting across these channels, I’ve started to realize that platforms like Pinterest, which provide more passive value, might deserve more of my attention. Meanwhile, networks that demote links seem to be draining valuable social media energy, making me reflect on how I spend my time on them.

Press highlights of 2024 – from USA Today to The Sun

As of January 2025, 1,497 domains are referring back to Pipeaway. That’s 200 more than the same time a year before.

Among the strongest links obtained in 2024 was certainly a feature in USA Today, where I was interviewed by Kathleen Wong about the impact of gun violence fears on a decline in travel to the United States.

For both their printed and online issues, Daily Mail licensed my AI images of fat people on planes to illustrate a write-up stemming from Finnair’s travel policy of weight.

Speaking of images generated by artificial intelligence, the fact-checker Snopes linked to our report on AI Facebook pictures when they debunked the image of the Scottish railway line on the mountainside.

My article on DND signs in hotels caught the attention of The Sun which linked to it from their own article. There were other media also republishing this story.

Beyond just scamming mafia, Pipeaway’s piece on lost luggage scam reached Slovenia, where the country’s oldest news portal Siol.net linked to it in their own investigative report. Even companies specialized in cybersecurity, such as Guardio, sent some backlink juice toward Pipeaway’s original piece of content.

Not exactly a backlink (because, well, Intagram!), but a mention worth mentioning in 2024 was artist Azi’s illustration featuring the last northern white rhino and its caretaker, inspired by our interview with Slovenian photographer Matjaž Krivic.

Despite our growing media mentions, Google demoted Pipeaway’s rankings for many keywords, and our once-growing domain authority fell from 39 to 31 (MOZ). According to Similarweb, our global rank in December 2024 was #1,452,413.

Thank you to my global support system

In 2024, hotels, hostels, boats, airports, and even massage schools generously partnered up with me, enabling many experiences that wouldn’t be possible without them.

While I always acknowledge these partnerships in the articles themselves, the support of people who help me behind the scenes and without fanfare remains somewhat in the shadow.

So I am especially grateful for the continuous backing from my friendly hosts around the world, namely Mladen in Sion, Nikos in Lanzarote and Kythira, both Christos in Athens, Corrado in Trieste, Kris in Khao Lak and Phuket, Kong in Bangkok, Mark and Ryan in Manila, and Dan in El Nido.

Thank you for making my travels smoother, my stays more enjoyable, and my adventures more meaningful! Thank you for being there for me!

Miles to go – Where’s my next destination?

I always feel predicting one’s whereabouts is ungrateful, as life is known for throwing unexpected curveballs.

But since I am already on the move, at least I know some parts of my 2025 itinerary. After spending January in Thailand, I plan to cross over to Malaysia in February, catching another edition of Thaipusam, this time on the island of Penang.

From Kuala Lumpur, I’ll swing by Italy on my way back to Croatia. After handling some car registration matters (I’d prefer to sell it – anyone interested?), I might take to the road or even the skies before summer hits Europe.

You see, I had to change some of my current Asian plans because flights I counted purchasing with miles turned out to be no longer available. So I ended up reaching into my wallet instead. But this means that I still have over 50,000 miles that will expire next summer. And I better use them.

Looking at the mileage bargains, it seems I could easily snag a return flight to destinations like Seoul, Delhi, or Johannesburg. Or should I head back to China? Canada?

Do I need to post a shirtless selfie in one of those ridiculous travel buddy Facebook groups?

Hmm, I kind of feel I’ve been mentioning a return to South Korea too many times, so maybe I indeed end up grabbing that Seoul ticket for zero dollars.

Come summer, I’ll likely be in or around Croatia, doing seasonal work I love to hate (at least it comes with accommodation). Remember, I have no bed anymore! So probably it will be a European hard-working summer (which hopefully won’t affect the blog as much as last year did).

I’d love to catch up with friends in Ireland, Greece, and Switzerland. And then, maybe autumn brings me to countries I frequently mention in this section of the review, and yet, I don’t end up visiting them. Right now, I’m thinking of Maldives, Sri Lanka, or perhaps a return to Japan…

What do you think? Got any suggestions? Or do I need to post a shirtless selfie in one of those ridiculous travel buddy Facebook groups filled with scams and… odd proposals? 🙂

Feel free to share your plans and travel resolutions!

Also, hey, just a random thought: if I were to organize a group trip to any of the countries, would you be interested in joining? Let me know where you’d like to go!

Wherever you are, stay safe!

Did you like this 2024 year in review?
Pin it for later!

The post 2024 Year in Review: Chasing Miles, Living the Journey appeared first on Pipeaway.

All of the ingredients for the standard low-cost airline shenanigans were there. But something else stuck with me on this particular flight, September 16th, 2024.

Humanity trumping economy was applaudable, and I observed it from the first row

Connecting the capitals of Hungary and Greece, this Wizz Air flight W6 2441 was operated by Avion Express. It’s a two-decade-old company based in Lithuania that operates charters and leases aircraft and crews to airlines such as Wizz Air.

I don’t know if that circumstance had anything to do with this story. Still, this particular flight ended up having a very illustrative lesson on generosity, manifested through one young passenger and two young flight attendants.

Humanity trumping economy was applaudable, and I observed it from the first row! Well, technically, it was row number 26. But when the action happens in row 25, there are no better seats in the house.

Overhead bin diplomacy

I knew this flight crew was special the moment I boarded.

With hair neatly parted in the middle, and rocking a pair of big glasses, this particular flight attendant seemed strict but was clearly eager to help. She even offered to lift and store a woman’s suitcase. In times when cabin crews are not allowed to help passengers with lifting baggage, you don’t hear “I’ll do that for you, Madam” often, especially not on low-cost carriers.

I remind you that Wizz Air reserves overhead bin space for “priority” passengers, those who paid extra during their booking process. For the rest of us, the PA system repeatedly requested to stuff our bags under the seat in front of us. And Wizz Air passengers, as they are, mostly ignored this call, storing their belongings in the overheads as soon as they’d spot some empty space.

To accommodate paying customers lacking space, this flight attendant strolled down the aisle, asking about each unmarked piece of luggage: “Who is the owner of this bag?” Then she proceeded with politely asking to store it under the seat, “if there is space”.

Now, that’s a lot of additional physical and communication work, which can be quite exhausting. You could easily imagine a member of the staff who had to go through that sweat, retreating to the galley for some well-deserved eye-rolling, and a curse or two.

But once everyone was seated, and all the priority bags found their rightful home, this attendant decided to thank us. “For those of you who were so kind and considerate to put your bag under the seat, feel free to place it back in the overhead bin after takeoff. Thank you for your cooperation”, she said.

Unbuckling plane kindness

With low-cost airlines, even expectations are low, and usually, they are met. So this was definitely an unusual start to a flight.

But as if kindness is contagious (is it?), the next surprising moment would happen in row 25, where a young lady would perform a rather unexpected act of selflessness.

This hero of consideration was sitting in 25B, the dreaded middle seat. She hadn’t bought herself a privilege to sit by the window or stretch a leg in the aisle, for instance.

In the aisle seat 25C, adhering to seat roulette, was an older lady who looked like she could have been her grandma. But they were not related. The lady was sitting silently while separated from the rest of her real family, dismembered by Wizz Air’s profit-optimizing rules. Somewhat lost and confused, she didn’t look like a frequent flyer. The young neighbor in 25B offered her assistance, starting with showing how the seat belt worked.

When the snack cart rolled down the middle of the plane, it had the charm of an arriving ice cream truck, luring the wide-eyed kids to the street. Here, good-mood flight attendants practically sang what’s on offer. I never thought that the mundane sentence such as “Please be attentive of trolley, please be cautious” could be so melodic. Is that a famous song? Should it be?

Generosity heroine in row 25

The young woman from 25B bought a small package of Pringles (3,70 euros for 40 grams) and a small bottle of water (for 3,20). I reconstructed these prices from the menu, but I think she paid 12,99 for some reason. Anyway, I wasn’t peeking so attentively, and surely it’s not the most relevant detail for the story.

The older lady from 25C decided to opt for a sandwich. And some water. And Pringles, why not? The 25B noticed her confusion, respectfully whispering to flight attendants: “I don’t think she realizes she must pay”.

“You will have to pay, madam”, the crew member gently said.

“Yes, yes”, the madam nodded.

The actual POS machine appeared in front of the Hungarian granny, with the flight attendant demanding: “You need to pay, ma’am!”

When the old lady’s body language confirmed she didn’t understand the pay-to-play concept, the attendant said: “Then I have to take it.”

And poof, everything was gone in an instant. The sandwich, the water, and the Pringles too. All got wings.

A moment later, the 25B woman called the attendants back and, without hesitation, offered to pay for Granny’s food and drink.

“Are you sure?”, the attendant said, now with a twinkle in her eye.

The young woman nodded, swiped her card again, and the confiscated items returned to the tray table in front of the old lady.

The attendant explained: “She paid it for you.”

But the Hungarian granny was still confused, not understanding that it was even the moment to thank anyone.

There was no applause, award, or anything to mark this unexpected act of plane kindness that didn’t ask for or get anything in return.

I witnessed some unexpected generosity myself in Cambodia. Check out how much I paid for bananas in Kampong Chhnang!

Paying kindness forward

I can’t fault the old lady for her confusion. Even if there is a possibility she had flown before, surely she remembered the times when airlines didn’t try to squeeze every last penny from passengers’ pockets. In her flying days, maybe all that came with the trolley was free. One only had to pick between coffee or tea, ham or cheese sandwich, sweet or salty snack.

Helping a struggling stranger doesn’t require a lot. And sometimes, kindness is contagious, so it could even pay off

With low-cost airlines, we have reached new heights in aviation. Traveling became affordable for anyone stingy enough to survive hours without water, food, space, belongings, and other privileges that once came with the luxury of flying.

The altruism of passenger 25B was proving, right there, that helping a struggling person out doesn’t require a huge investment. Sure, she spent a few euros, and it didn’t bring back gratitude. But did it matter? It was a small sacrifice for someone who was lost in an alien environment.

Just a moment after the passenger’s selfless gesture, one of the flight attendants reappeared at row 25. As if kindness was contagious (is it?), she handed the middle-seat Samaritan a chocolate bar and an extra bottle of water. “This is a gift from the crew”, she said.

Did you like this article?
What would you do if your neighbor passenger couldn’t pay for a snack?
Comment below and pin this post for later!

The post Hungarian Granny, Sandwich, and Unexpected Act of Plane Kindness appeared first on Pipeaway.

This wasn’t my first season of waiting tables, where I swapped swimming in the sea with drowning in sweat. Trying to keep the smile on, while serving high-expectation guests during the global warming, dressed up in long sleeves and an apron on top of trousers, is not the easiest of tasks. I can imagine many better ways to spend a summer than working in a fine-dining restaurant. In double shifts. Often 10+ hours a day. With one free day per week.

We don’t have an infinite number of lives. How we spend the one we have, is what truly matters

Even when propeling a blog to the top 500k websites in the world, online businesses in the era of cheap AI and profit-hungry search engines can have quite unstable finances. To bring money to the table, one sometimes needs to resort to offline solutions.

I learned to live with deprioritizing my personal projects or needs when the situation requires it. Also, working directly with tourists does bring excitement. I never felt bored in the high-intensity job of serving food and beverages to hungry and thirsty clients. Performing this task can be eventful.

However, I also learned (not once!) that we are not cats. We don’t have an infinite number of lives. How we spend the one we have, is what truly matters.

Just before I quit updating Pipeaway’s website in May, the sad news reached me – one inspiring person decided to quit something irrevocable. Life itself.

Angela Laurier no more

Angela Laurier was a contortionist of international fame. Indeed, she could bend like a snake, but the Quebecoise artist wasn’t serving entertainment. She chose a professional path that was stripping off layers of her not-so-simple private life, something very authentic on world stages.

If her name doesn’t ring a bell, surely you’ve heard of Cirque du Soleil. In the young days of this now-famous Canadian circus, Angela Laurier was an important performer. She starred in “Le Grand Tour”, the very first production that brought a small troupe of Montreal‘s street performers to the rest of Quebec in 1984. It would become the seed of the largest contemporary circus the world would ever see.

If you follow Angela Laurier’s biography, you’ll see her grow from Pop Citrouille, a TV show where her promising talent glued Canadian children and teenagers to TV screens with absurd sketches and catchy tunes. After the Cirque, she appeared in everything from German variétés to Robert Lepage‘s theater productions, starring as Puck, the jester, in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”.

The talented artist’s true influence, however, reached its zenith when she decided to follow her own path. She formed Compagnie Angela Laurier and started depicting topics of mental illness nibbling on her family.

Angela’s and my professional timelines intertwined for a brief moment. In 2009, I invited her to play the show called “Déversoir” in Zagreb, at Festival Novog Cirkusa, an event I was directing in Croatia for 12 years.

With this touching performance, the contortionist tried to demystify madness by reconnecting with her alienated family members, a depressive father and a schizophrenic brother. Her stage work was a personal and public healing therapy.

Still, 15 years later, on May 19th, 2024, Angela Laurier decided to take her life, at the age of 62.

On edge

Paying homage to someone three months after their passing might seem strange. But this is not Angela Laurier’s necrology.

I haven’t known her that deeply, and I don’t know what preceded her decision to quit living. But she was a thought-provoking artist. Even her self-controlled departure made me reflect on the ways we approach our mental health. Are we neglecting it when prioritizing outer expectations, while in pursuit of personal happiness, we feel disabled?

Last year brought me a couple of reminders of the fragility of our existence. The heart betrayed my Indonesian friend Fathin Naufal. A lack of social support left my Croatian school friend Lidija Džidara stranded. And even if I already knew that taking care of oneself should always be a priority, choosing a sometimes mindless routine can feel easier.

Angela Laurier’s departure made me revisit her performance showcasing her physical and mental flexibility. But I also discovered some of her interviews which showed she was keen on doing things her way.

After three European tours with Cirque du Trottoir, Angela returned to Cirque du Soleil in 1988, for the last time. The project was bigger than before. It was bringing much more money in, but the “big dream” was also far away from where she saw it starting.

“It’s really a business now. Business is rolling and we perform”, Angela said. She spoke about losing track of who we were, about a feeling that we’re becoming someone else. “No one is truly themselves, they don’t feel good inside. We can’t get to know who people really are. They’re always stressed. They’re very emotional. We’re all very emotional, on edge, always pumped up and tense. We try to be positive all the time because you’ve got to be positive when performing. This creates a lot of conflict.”

Tourism du Soleil

Tourism is a smiling business too. While it naturally employs friendly people, it is still a sort of a performance. You leave your personal worries at home, put a cheerful face on, and act happiness no matter what, so that others can feel as if being somewhere truly special.

For the sake of the success of the business, workers pay the price in tension and stress. That’s Tourism du Soleil, ladies and gentlemen, “the greatest show on Earth”!

But tourist seasons are often managed in a way that they necessarily take a toll, not just a physical one. After your exhausting juggling shift in the restaurant, you come home for a few hours of recharging before, all groggy, you need to rush back again, to do your best hospitality somersaults again.

The working conditions can sometimes bend and contort around the laws that prevent the exploitation of workers, with the best monetary performance in mind. Stretching to their limits, employees can feel like expendables.

When you see all those smiling faces while enjoying your well-deserved holidays, remember there could be a dark side to that performed happiness. It could be comparable to the try-to-be-positive-all-the-time “edge” Angela Laurier detected in the 1980s, the situation where, for the sake of the success of the business, workers pay the price in tension and stress. That’s Tourism du Soleil, ladies and gentlemen, “the greatest show on Earth”!

Now matters more than tomorrow

After months of balancing poached eggs, strawberry gazpachos and beef tartars while running up and down restaurant terraces, performing my positive best despite the lack of sleep and time for anything else but work, I decided to leave the arena, earlier than the official end of the season.

It would be easy to call me a quitter, but my employers and I separated ways in mutual understanding. Tourism is a performance, and we performed it well.

I can’t say there were many surprises. When I signed up for it, I understood the nature of the job. I’m just saying that life should be more. Life is more.

Recent years provided sad but valuable reminders that we all have expiry dates. So by the end of August, weighing my work situation and certain personal connections elsewhere, I decided I wanted to control more than just the thickness of my wallet. I wanted to spare myself regrets, to see people I care about, to share time where it matters. Now, not tomorrow.

In a recorded interview, Angela’s father, who authorized electroshocks for his schizophrenic son, said: “Luckily, life is not eternal.”

While I could agree we cannot choose the sufferings life throws at us, I would still rather grieve the shortness of happy moments than find solace in an eventual natural end to the agony. Some things we, luckily, do get to control.

So here I am, at the start of a new global wandering adventure, chasing moments much more precious than a steady income. I’ll be revisiting old friends but certainly also discovering many new insights on this trip that starts with one-way tickets.

Now, all the world’s a stage. While the fatalistic school of thought could say that actors aren’t here to direct, we can still choose our roles and go off-script.

September 10th is observed as World Suicide Prevention Day (a part of the Suicide Prevention Week, in the USA). The current theme is "Changing the Narrative on Suicide", with the call to action to "Start the Conversation", as that can save lives. If you are struggling, reach out to a mental health professional or a person of trust.

Did you like this reflection?
Pin it for later!

The post The Lesson on Performing: Nobody Can Bend Indefinitely appeared first on Pipeaway.

This selection of dangers of traveling reveals situations where I thoughtlessly stepped into preventable troubles

I already debunked some illusions of travel coming from the perception of a blogger’s life. You don’t get to read about travelers’ stomach problems and diarrhea disasters often, simply because that’s not sexy. Journey reports in blogs and social media may paint experiences in rosy hues, just because it’s embarrassing to admit one’s travel mishaps.

We can also feel ashamed to share that we became victims of scams, assaults, thefts, and other crimes. In this collection of anecdotes, I won’t be writing about that time when my friend Timon and I walked into an Istanbul brothel thinking we were just invited for a beer, but were then pressured to choose between all Tatianas paraded in front of us as if they were a treat on a sushi conveyor belt. I’ll skip a series of pickpocket attempts in Addis Ababa or even that transfer-kidnap story in Manila I hinted about in the selection of the greatest WTF moments of my travels.

Today’s selection of dangers of traveling is all about risking injuries, situations where I thoughtlessly stepped into preventable troubles. Hopefully, you’ll find safety tips that should help you avoid similar mistakes on your travels!

WARNING: This article contains graphic images of exposed wounds that some viewers might find disturbing.

7 Dangers of Travel

1. Burning my soles in the Vietnamese desert

On my first extended Asian adventure, seven years ago, I stopped in Mui Ne, a resort town on the southern part of Vietnam‘s coast. This unusual place had over a hundred resorts claiming parts of the beach, securing direct sea approach and unobstructed views to their guests. But there was plenty of sand north of the town, in Mui Ne’s famous Red Sand Dunes.

To avoid the crowds who visit the enormous desert attraction with jeep tours, I decided to avoid their favorite “golden hours” of early morning and late afternoon. With a local bus, I arrived just before noon, thinking how I outsmarted everyone.

It was hot, as one would expect from a midday, but nothing unbearable. I coated myself in sunscreen and walked barefoot over the dunes. The warmth of the sand was pleasant, but another of my senses was more occupied – the views were fantastic.

The temperature of the sand is not equal across the dunes, you know. As the sun moves, so do the dune shadows. But it never occurred to me that some sections were constantly exposed to the sun. Well, not until my bare feet stepped into an area that felt like a roof of hell. I literally screamed in agony.

It took me some time to untangle the Gordian Knot I used to safely attach my flip-flops to the backpack. At the same time, I was trying to do a little Irish dance, jumping from one foot to another. It wasn’t helping; I was being grilled alive.

With sand in my mouth, hair, and everywhere else you can imagine it sneaking in, I returned to the civilization. The tingling sensation in my blistered feet continued reminding me that the dangers of travel lurk when you least expect them.

2. Dehydration drama in Cambodian outback

While traveling through Cambodia, I stopped in Kampong Chhnang, a sleepy port town with a floating village on the Tonle Sap River.

Just after Songkran, the Cambodian New Year, many businesses took additional days off, and life slowed down. Finding even a working restaurant or a shop that would sell me a hand of bananas was challenging.

Arming yourself with water is essential, especially if you intend to ride a bicycle out in the sticks, through a tropical countryside. It was so dry that you could easily count ribs on cows searching for a green blade of grass.

I love exploring the countryside on a bicycle, but that takes energy away. One can easily miscalculate the appropriate intake of fluids, so I try to be conservative when dispersing the content of a water bottle I have.

I decided to pedal toward a restaurant completely out of route, hoping it would provide sustenance, but met another closed door. To eat something, I went further away from town, and practically drained what little energy I had left.

My mouth felt so dry that even sipping the remaining water felt insufficient to quench the thirst. One of the scariest dangers of travel in tropical zones crept in. I pondered about waiting for the sunset under a tree before moving on. It was extremely hot, and finding any shop on the way home didn’t look promising.

But standing on the side of the road didn’t sound like the best choice either. Eventually, I concluded I would faint in any case. I summoned the last shreds of my strength and rode toward a pottery shop, in whose shade I took a little break, before eventually successfully getting home, hungry, thirsty, and utterly exhausted.

3. Falling down the stairs in Bulgaria

It was raining cats and dogs when I arrived in Plovdiv, the oldest city in Europe. The clouds opened up, and a massive quantity of water poured down the streets of the Bulgarian cultural capital.

I was staying in a hostel, and Max, a young German ornithologist returning from a bird mapping expedition in Azerbaijan, joined me at the supermarket to get some food.

After returning home, we descended to the kitchen, and my shoes just glided off the slippery wooden stairs. I flew through the air and crash-landed with the finesse of a sack of potatoes. I hit my back, buttocks, and mostly the left arm, peeling off the skin as I met the floor.

A swelling in the left elbow was hurting for days. There was another female guest in the hostel, whose name I forgot, probably because anger overtook me. She approached me, and squeezed my bruised elbow as hard as she could, to make sure “if it hurt”. I erased your identity from my memory, lady, but you are a very bizarre person! These were not health and safety protocols I would expect from a roommate.

Somehow, I healed on my own, reluctant to seek medical attention. I guess the danger of travel that doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger. But there are better things than getting stronger in an unconventional way! For instance, I would’ve preferred to hold the handrail while descending instead of making this unplanned acrobatic venture that wouldn’t bring me any points in figure skating competitions.

Anything can happen on a trip in a foreign country, from fractures to food poisoning. Prevent worries and protect yourself against costly bills by taking EKTA insurance with a worldwide coverage. Buy your policy now!

4. Fracturing my ribs in a bathtub in Finland

In Helsinki, the capital of Finland, I experienced one of the most painful travel moments. At the hotel I stayed in, I took an evening shower. After finishing, I reached out for a towel hanging on the bathroom door. In the next second, I slipped and fell, my back loudly kissing the ceramic surface.

The impact knocked the air out of my lungs. It took me a second to be able to produce a painful moan. I wasn’t sure if I could move. The first thought that rushed through my head was: “Shoot, I locked the door, and even put the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign out! It will take days for them to find me.”

Immediately, I was aware of how helpless I was. My mobile phone was in the bedroom. There was no emergency string to pull. So I just lied there.

In Japan, seven-times more people die in bathtubs than in car accidents

As I recovered from the initial shock, I managed to drag my sorry self out of the bathtub somehow, and slowly got to bed, making sure that the phone would be within my reach. The pain was excruciating, and yet, I wanted to believe that I would be fine by morning.

I wasn’t fine. The doctor arrived at the hotel and quickly diagnosed mini-fractures of my ribs. Even his bill was painful; 200 euros for advising me to rest.

In the following days, I managed to get out, but navigating the city was hard. I couldn’t cross two-lane streets during a green light. I limped my way through Helsinki, extremely slowly. The recovery would be long.

To this day, I wonder: what diabolical cleaning products do they use in hotel bathrooms? Those bathtubs must be coated in a layer of slippery devilry, contributing to the scary slip-and-fall statistics.

In Japan, 19,000 people die in a bathtub every year. That’s seven-times more fatalities than in car accidents. In the United States, it is three-times likelier one would die in a bathtub than in a terrorist attack.

5. Falling off a motorbike in Laos

Luang Prabang is protected by UNESCO, but on the road, you are on your own. If you don’t take all travel safety precautions when navigating Laos, nobody will do it for you.

In the afterglow of a day spent chasing the enchanting Kuang Si Falls, I was returning to the town on a rented scooter. On my way to the waterfall, I already learned I should steer clear of potholes. But potholes would not be my problem.

On this scorching hot day, a tree was shading the road, right at the spot that would make me lose balance. Hidden by the shadow, there was a sneaky little bump. I saw it too late.

Me and my motorbike fell, gliding across the asphalt road as if it were butter. It wasn’t butter. My bleeding hands, scratched arms (that poor left elbow taking another hit), and ripped trousers that would only later expose wounds on my knees too.

Kind-hearted girls behind me stopped when they saw me lying down, removed the scooter from the road, and rushed to the nearby village to get a disinfectant for my wounds.

I was lucky that nobody and nothing else participated in my accident. It was only a collision with a hard floor. Otherwise, it might have ended up differently for me. As I was driving back to the town, the faces of people who mean the most to me, rushed before my eyes.

They say that medical care in Laos is not of a high standard, so even if you need to go to a hospital, many advise you to head to the neighboring Thailand instead. I nursed my wounds myself, with supplies from the pharmacy. But I knew that my days of exploring dusty Laos roads with open wounds had to come to an earlier end.

6. Descending the Gheralta Moutain without a rope

There’s a lot I could tell you about the dangers of travel through Ethiopia, a country I visited during the state of emergency. I have already written about my conflict with fraudsters in an Ethiopian bus, my encounter with hyenas in Harar, a swim in Doho Lake with crocodiles, a police-alarming incident with Chinese tourists at Bete Giyorgis, as well as climbing Erta Ale volcano with armed escort. It’s a country that offers travelers many opportunities for danger, from pickpocketing scams to natural challenges.

It may not look like I have any issues with heights (remember those daring hikes in Norway?). But every encounter with a cliff is not just exciting for me, it’s also quite terrifying. Even with my circus background, I’m still aware I am conquering fears, and not being fearless. I’m not one of those daredevils who run on skyscraper edges; those videos make my stomach churn.

But I do love culture, especially one that has a rich history. So I couldn’t skip Tigray Churches, nestled high in the Gheralta Mountains. Religious sanctuaries carved in the rock, at some truly special sites, were calling my name.

The routes through these hardly accessible mountains are not signposted, so you cannot visit them without a guide. In the town of Megab, I booked Amaze, my trusty expert for the day. I took the package that included him, a motorbike to take us to and back from the mountain, and – a rope, supposedly for easier climbing.

The plan was to visit the churches of Daniel Korkor and Mariam Korkor, and then a somewhat dislocated Abuna Yemata Guh.

The initial ascend between the rocks that were “separated by God” (similar to what Moses did with the Red Sea) was quite strenuous. However, the real challenge happened when Amaze took me for a shortcut way to Abuna Yemata Guh, but forgot that rope I rented out. Instead of taking it with us, he mistakenly sent it directly to our final church.

Now, this descent without a rope was quite… How to describe it? In several instances, I had to say “Are you sure? Maybe we should head back?” Even for a person of reasonable fitness, there were some scarily steep parts. I still wonder how the two of us survived this heart-stopping trek.

The exhausting hike through pure wilderness between the two sites took its toll. When we arrived beneath the third church (and finally used the rope to ascend the rocks), I was already deadbeat from the sun. On the top rock, a vertigo got me. The views of a 2.5-kilometer drop beneath us and a petrifying walk on the cliffside didn’t help. It all felt messed up now, as I tried to make my weary body not lose balance on a narrow ledge.

I survived, like many before us, but I wouldn’t recommend the warm-up we had to anyone planning this hazardous visit.

7. Breathless experience of scuba diving in Greece

For us humans (we are not fish, right?), the ability to breathe is what keeps us alive. Even if I can apply for a trip to the Moon, or readily visit the most toxic place on Earth – Kawah Ijen volcano in Indonesia – I don’t take breathing in environments that are not built for our lungs for granted.

My possibly closest brush with death happened during my first scuba diving attempt in Naxos, Greece. Maybe it’s not fair to call it a near-death experience. The reason why I’m able to tell this story today is that I actually had skilled professionals taking care of me along the way. However, this doesn’t annul the panic attack I experienced that day below the surface.

Everything went fine on my initial scuba diving training. I felt confident with instructions on dry land, the shallow-water drill went great, and then there were also three people taking care of me, my Greek instructor, and two diving volunteers from Bulgaria. Sure, let’s go deeper!

Maybe I was exuding too much confidence. I was able to both dive and film the experience; my instructors later told me they were impressed. Another student canceled just before the dive, while I seemed fearless.

But at one moment, the first moment my instructor Panos looked away (I guess I was radiating confidence), something happened. I wasn’t able to inhale through my scuba gear. Panic mode: activated. I tried pinching and blowing my nose, but it didn’t help. Maybe because that’s a method for equalizing ear pressure.

Indeed, I was taught about the inflator hose, and that the inflate button would allow me to ascend gracefully to the surface. But at my first dive ever, I couldn’t think of that. My initial reaction was to draw attention and ask for help. As I watched the back of my instructor diving away, my hands were waving like a frantic Lucky Cat doll on speed, hoping that somebody would notice my distress signal. Nobody hears you scream down there.

Thankfully for beginners, there’s always a person behind you. Aleksandra, my dear Bulgarian guardian, noticed my struggles the first, rushed to me, and inflated my vest, so I could quickly breathe in on the surface.

The entire breathless ordeal lasted for about 30 seconds, that’s what my GoPro images suggest (set to time-lapse, with shots taken every second). For someone who cannot breathe, and is surrounded by water, those 30 seconds can feel like an eternity.

After a minute on the surface of getting my heartbeat down, I was okay with diving back in. The experience did teach me a lesson of approaching foreign environments with respect, and the importance of learning how to handle them when things go wrong.

Knocking on wood, I was lucky enough not to experience natural catastrophes on the road. Against that reckless power, we are quite defenseless. If you wish to help those whose lives were shattered into pieces, consider these areas as the best places to travel in 2024. 

Navigating dangers of travel – conclusion

There you have it, seven years of wild adventures, close calls, and enough adrenaline to fuel a theme park.

Traveling, as I’ve come to learn, is not always easy, especially if we tend to challenge ourselves with experiences that may be out of our comfort zone. They test our resilience and our ability to keep our cool when the going gets tough.

The safety of travel doesn’t always come with an instruction manual

After seven years of working on the Pipeaway project, I am still attracted by the beauty of challenges, even if they come with risks. It’s a constant learning process that reminds me of the importance of – learning.

As individuals, we’re fragile, easily broken by elements and accidents. But we also learn by doing. I do.

Experiencing travel problems is an ongoing education in travel safety, a process that makes us resilient and better prepared for future challenges. It helps us survive travel emergencies that we can’t always imagine beforehand.

When I look at these experiences that expose how thoughtlessly I approached some of my adventures, I wonder what makes me eligible to give safety tips or any advice for traveling.

But you know, it doesn’t take an expert to understand that the safety of travel and the health risks we challenge abroad don’t always come with an instruction manual.

The dangers of travel should not deter you from adventurous travel. Don’t let the fear of the unknown hold you back from pushing your boundaries. Learn from your mistakes, but also from those of others. Stumbling is a part of the adventure. We get better with experience.

As I raise a metaphorical toast to the next seven years of Pipeaway adventures, I offer my safe travel wishes to all wanderers. May good luck accompany your willingness to adopt new skills, and take you far. Stay safe, and pipe away!

Have you experienced the dangers of travel?
Share your riskiest adventures in the comments, and pin this article for later!

Disclosure: This post may contain affiliate links, meaning if you click on them and make a purchase, Pipeaway may make a small commission, at no additional cost to you. Thank you for supporting our work!

The post 7 Times I Risked Too Much: Navigating Dangers of Travel appeared first on Pipeaway.

If I were just looking at Pipeaway’s numbers (of visits or generated income), I’d have to say this was the most successful year since the birth of this travel blog in 2017.

Even if Pipeaway’s annual traffic tripled in comparison to pre-pandemic 2019, Google updates brought a 35% drop in November

I guess I should thank you, the readers, and myself, the writer, for this. The choice of consistent typing instead of constant wandering was fruitful. The lesson is that sometimes, the path to success is paved with keyboard strokes rather than passport stamps.

Significantly more than any other year before, I published 63 articles in 2023. Those, as well as some older posts, brought in a surprising amount of traffic – 40.1% of all website visits since Pipeaway’s conception almost seven years ago, happened in 2023! The amount of visits tripled in comparison to pre-pandemic 2019.

With no special backlink-building efforts, the website’s results were climbing steadily from the beginning of the year, reaching its best in June. Similarweb ranked Pipeaway at global position #415,430, which is a great result for an essentially one-man-boat in the ocean of 2 billion websites.

But anyone working in online business knows that Google’s autumn updates had a major negative effect on many quality websites, with doubtfully helpful results for users. As if blogxiety, or blogger burnout, was not enough stressful side of this job’s nature, content creators started being punished by the largest search engine’s algorithms.

Pipeaway’s rankings for practically half of the keywords were completely cut off, resulting in a 35% traffic drop in November, and a 40% plunge in December, compared to pre-update times. So in the most successful Pipeaway year traffic-wise, this wasn’t the best year-ending.

Until we either all start using Bing, DuckDuckGo, and even Yahoo, or Google gods don’t realize the extent of the mess they did and rectify what can be rectified, travel bloggers can only try to exercise even more resilience in these post-pandemic times when they were starting to see a glimpse of a better future.

Without further ado, let’s start with Pipeaway’s review of the year 2023!

IF YOU’RE INTERESTED IN PREVIOUS YEAR REPORTS, YOU CAN FIND THEM RIGHT HERE:

2022 YEAR IN REVIEW: READY FOR RESTART

2021 YEAR IN REVIEW: GOODBYE TO A TRAVEL BLOB

2020 YEAR IN REVIEW: OVERTOURISM AS A DISTANT MEMORY

2019 YEAR IN REVIEW: DOES EXPLORING THE WORLD IN CRISIS MAKE ANY SENSE?

2018 YEAR IN REVIEW: HIKING MOUNTAINS, VOLCANOES AND CHURCHES

2017 YEAR IN REVIEW: 3 CONTINENTS, 14 COUNTRIES AND ONE BIG ADVENTURE

Highlights of Pipeaway’s 2023

Artificial intelligence and authentic issues

Even if search engines still didn’t learn how to deal with the influx of low-quality content, the year 2023 was definitely the year of AI hype. The artificial intelligence entered content generation on a scale that nobody could predict, ready to tackle texts, images, videos, and even music.

Pipeaway adopted AI-generated images as a way to illustrate stories that have scarce human-made visual content on stock photo sites like Depositphotos. In articles such as the one on the original 7 Wonders of the World, the hidden travel expenses, or on what to do when seated next to a fat person on a plane, the use of tools such as Midjourney and Dall-e was invaluable. Artificial intelligence helps us visualize the pre-camera world, abstract concepts, or even those topics where publishing real images could land us in a sticky ethical situation.

I also consulted large language models a year ago, to see how they can compare available data and give their travel predictions for 2023. I believe it’s fun to read that with a delay and see how accurate were the travel industry trends recognized by the AI.

One of the most common AI forecasts was the rise of sustainable and responsible travel, something many human experts would easily agree with. In the world grappling with a disappearing Antarctica, and COP28 summit starring hypocrisy as headliner, it’s time to go beyond chanting environmental slogans and start making real moves. Each of us can adopt practical ways to reduce our carbon footprint (how about a backpacking lifestyle?), but also governments should approach development with an ecological state of mind. Haneul Park in Seoul is one such project that I found inspiring.

Travel industry in 2023

The travel industry confronted the burning issues in 2023, not always in the most successful way. To stop overtourism problems, some destinations rolled out new rules for tourists. In the clumsiness Olympics, the Italian “Open to Meraviglia” triumphed as one of the greatest travel marketing campaign fails last year.

Laughter induced by these tourism professionals was not intentional, but the smart use of jokes in marketing can be a game-changer. Just think of Ryanair, National Park Service, TSA… They all manage to take themselves less seriously while still managing to get their messages across. Personally, I like how Uber presents lost property in their annual report.

In the year behind us, Pipeaway has written extensively about airline industry trends. We have witnessed Air Canada wrestling with disability assistance, plus-size flight attendants facing discrimination, and unruly aircraft passengers reaching new heights, sometimes by joining the mile-high club.

With so many challenges in the air, would you still consider becoming a pilot? Or could the airport transfer service be a smoother career choice?

If we have learned anything from the accommodation industry last year, it was that hotel guests could have the most extravagant room service requests, that housekeeping regularly ignores ‘do not disturb’ signs, and that hidden cameras and microphones could be surveilling you as you read this.

While there are retreats designed exclusively for those of us who experienced a breakup, I believe that sometimes taking a break can be beneficial, even if it is for participating in the world’s laziest person competition.

Personal views

Every year has its ups and downs. On a personal level, I experienced two losses that touched me deeply. One was Fathin Naufal, an Indonesian I met through Couchsurfing, and the other one was Lidija Džidara, a childhood friend from my school years. Both of them were too young to leave, but I guess they offered me another reminder of the preciousness of moments we have. Those are here and now.

Everything passes in seconds. I see writing as a tool to make those seconds echo longer. I wish I was more successful in that as I feel many important memories just fade away before I ever get a chance to grab them, pack them, and store them, somewhere with a longer expiry date than my brain.

Maybe AI could help there too. Grasping our fleeing thoughts, leading us through the darkness until, well, we remember. For instance, when I wrote the article on the biggest WTF moments of my travels, I used ChatGPT as a brainstorming tool. I demanded it ask me questions so I could recollect what I forgot or what I never even analyzed through such a prism. Of course, many questions the AI asked me never led anywhere, but on the other hand, it did manage to help me dig deeper into my memories, so I could come up with stories I had never written about before.

Besides interviewing myself, I realized interviewing others is something I should focus on even more in the future. There are some great stories to give the stage to, and they come not necessarily through us, but through other people.

Matjaž Krivic was one of such inspiring individuals. His pictures of a white rhino and thoughts on the species extinction drew 40k eyeballs to Pipeaway and faced them with an important topic.

Tom Turcich, the man who walked around the world with his dog, also shared some thought-provoking ideas on death and privilege.

The TikTok Grannies celebrated the undying power of friendship at the age of 80, while Alexey Gubarev exposed his MadWay Rally through the modern Wasteland.

Favorite country – Croatia

In 2023, I’ve spent only 38 days abroad, which is significantly less than during the pandemic’s “stay at home” movement. I’ve been traveling only in Croatia, Slovenia, Italy, and Switzerland, or so-called closer-to-home destinations (well done, AI oracle, again!).

Sure, I could recommend you discover Italian wineries, explore the Swiss wall of skulls in Beinhaus Leuk, or even embark on a grand European itinerary that includes Spain, the country of passion. I could tell you to visit the entertainment capitals with the biggest Ferris wheels in the world, follow the world’s best coffee trail, or even dive into countries with pink lakes.

But to be fair, the country where I spent the rest of my year, deserves a shoutout.

Many newlyweds choose Croatia for their honeymoon. It is, after all, a country with five heart-shaped islands, one of which is still available for sale (Galešnjak, anyone?). Well, as long as you are rich enough and struggle with coming up with romantic travel gift ideas.

But Croatia has many more cool island shapes, ready for you to explore. I will certainly be among these explorers, especially now that I gifted myself a brand-new drone (DJ Mini 4 Pro). Expect even more aerial footage on Pipeaway in the years to come!

Favorite town – Villages of Zagori, Greece

I’m often drawn to hidden places. Playful architects, such as those who designed the traboules in Lyon, can shape the entire identity of a place.

The northwestern corner of Greece was developing its architectural style for centuries. Hidden behind the mountain (the fact that even provided the name of the region – Zagori), this stone kingdom of bridges and pathways is a fascinating landscape where nature and humans share the stage.

Scattered around one of the deepest canyons in the world, proudly stands Zagorochoria, a cluster of 46 villages that haven’t changed much since they were built. They are the newcomers on UNESCO’s list of World Heritage Sites, and rightfully so.

My first visit to Zagori was quite short, so I hope to go back for some exciting hiking adventures.

Favorite accommodation – Star Wars-themed hotels

If the news escaped you, 2023 was the year of pink. The greatest contributor to the craze was, of course, the Hollywood blockbuster. So the popularity of Barbie hotels, motels, and any nook painted in pink, does not come as a surprise.

But the closing of Disney’s Galactic Starcruiser, made me put another hotel alternative as a 2023 favorite – the Star Wars hotels.

From the deserts of Tunisia, Jordan, and the United Arab Emirates, to the futuristic abodes in Spain, France, and the UK, hotels inspired by the space saga will certainly continue providing otherworldly vacation not only for movie fans.

Favorite food experience – Rapska torta

Now, let’s talk sweets, my kryptonite. From hunting Budapest desserts to scanning pastry workshops on Eatwith, I’ve been looking for mouthwatering experiences in 2023 as well. Well, to be completely honest, I even flirted with the idea of professional pastry schools, but my bank account disagreed. Are there any sponsors in the house? 🙂

I am happy to present the title of my favorite food experience of the year to the Croatian island of Rab, where I spent my birthday week.

This Northern Adriatic island has a special gastronomic attraction. Rapska torta is a famous Croatian cake that even the Pope bowed in front of. My article comes with a secret recipe for this traditional delicacy, so if you can’t travel to Croatia, head to your kitchen!

Pipeaway’s top articles of 2023

Some articles published on Pipeaway in 2023 especially resonated with readers. Here’s a roundup of the most popular blog posts that had the Pipeaway community buzzing:

1. Extinction in Focus: Matjaž Krivic’s Photographs of the Last Northern White Rhino

Matjaž Krivic is a Slovenian documentary photographer whose photos of the last northern white rhino brought him many prizes. Besides portraying the heartwarming relationship between just seemingly invincible animal and its guard, the author also opens the topic of the fragility of the species, defenseless against human greed. Can scientists save rhinos?

2. FKK Kandarola Beach: The Naked Truth About Rab’s Shrinking Naturist Paradise

The Croatian island of Rab was a place where a British monarch took off his clothes and officially launched the history of European naturism. But Kandarola, the beach where it all began, is threatened by a variety of exploitation projects, with a frightening silence of local politicians. Can Rab protect its nature and naturists, or is that not a political priority?

3. Statue Rubbing: Good Luck or Bad Taste?

A strange tradition convinced people that rubbing statues could bring good luck. The bizarre massage ritual had poor monuments blushing from head to toe, breasts, crotches, and hindquarters included. Is the controversial practice performed by superstitious tourists utterly wrong, and what does it tell us about the society that tolerates it?

Pipeaway’s timeless hits

Among the all-time favorites, rankings changed a bit. The usual number one slipped to number three, making room for newcomers who stole the limelight. These are the timeless classics readers couldn’t get enough of in 2023!

1. Top 5 Jjimjilbangs in Seoul

2. Fat People on Planes: How to Survive Flying While Fat

3. Selecting a Plane Seat: 5 Reasons Why Last Row Should be First Choice

Social media landscape

Organic search continued to dominate in the acquisition of Pipeaway readers (78.7%). Direct visits grew to 18.1%, while social media accounted for a mere 3.3% in 2023.

As traffic generated by social media can be quite volatile, I’m still convinced that the SEO route is the one to insist on. If I should change anything with my social media approach at this moment, it is probably to focus more on those channels that do bring some traffic (Pinterest does it without me investing any special effort) and cut the time spent on designing content and strategies for Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, whose policies try their best not to let their users leave their platforms to discover other online content.

The Pinterest channel continued to grow and now brings 61.4 % of Pipeaway’s social media traffic. Pipeaway’s account on Pinterest currently has 858 followers (10 % yearly growth) with 57k monthly viewers. While that number stayed similar, the number of those who have seen or engaged with Pipeaway’s pins in 2023 (505.780) more than doubled in comparison with the previous year (124 % growth). The Greek nudist hotels’ article stole Pinterest’s spotlight.

Facebook follows Pinterest, accounting for 25.1 % of social media traffic last year. Pipeaway’s Facebook page still has the same number of followers, about 12 thousand. However, with posting automation and strategic timing, Facebook’s reach has grown by 301.5%.

With regular daily posting, ex-Twitter climbed up to the third place in the rankings (8.4% of social media acquisition came from there), which is more than doubled in comparison to the year before. Pipeaway’s X account currently boasts 1,397 followers.

Instagram sent a meager 2.7 % of social media traffic, and Pipeaway’s Instagram followers base decreased by an additional 3.6% in 2023. There are 5,589 followers at the moment. Zuckerberg knows why, but our Instagram reach has grown 27.8 %, which is still utterly insignificant.

In the fifth spot, there’s LinkedIn. This professional network brought over 2.3% of social media traffic, even if I only share new articles on a personal profile after I publish them on the site.

Pipeaway’s YouTube channel had 59k views in 2023, nearly double from the previous year. Viewers spent 1.4k hours watching our videos. The number of subscribers grew 39 %, from 178 to 248. The most popular video was again Nara Deer Park – Japan’s Bambi Heaven & Hell, raking in 50k views in 2023. I think these are cool results, especially as I don’t really focus on this channel. I published only two videos in 2023, one on making a cake, and another one on making a race.

Newsletter news

There have been 51 editions of Pipeaway’s newsletter in 2023. I only missed sending one, back in February, and now I can’t even remember why.

In any case, when the newsletter count hit three digits, I transformed it into a regular curated newsletter that’s sent out every Monday, hoping that it could one day become a strong product on its own. Let’s face it, Mondays need all the help they can get.

I just uploaded this new generation of newsletters on Pipeaway too, so the readers can now easily access the archive before deciding on signing up.

The newsletter is free, and I don’t plan to change that in the foreseeable future.

As my intention with this product is to develop content for the most engaged Pipeaway readers, these days I made another big clean-up of inactive subscribers (those who extremely rarely open this e-letter).

From 696 subscribers at the beginning of 2023, the total number was cut down to 477. There were 70 new users subscribing to the service in 2023, but the end number is the result of two simultaneous processes – certain users leaving by choice, and others being removed from the list due to not opening the newsletter for months.

One really cannot do much about the accounts that seem not to be used or active, so I still find cleaning the audience list an essential part of any newsletter’s hygiene.

Press appearances

As of January 2024, 1,297 domains are referring back to Pipeaway. The number of backlinks almost doubled in the last year (in January 2023, there were 699 domains linking to this site.

Probably the strongest links obtained in 2023 were those generated through our story on flying while fat. After The Time linked out to Pipeaway, many other media picked it up as well.

Out of other interesting write-ups that referred to Pipeaway, I’d like to mention the article by Tanja Praske on Münchner Stadtbibliothek blog, which discussed the background of the #JulietToo art installation by Tamiko Thiel, and pointed to Pipeaway’s post on the controversial practice of statue rubbing.

Besides some activity in certain Facebook groups, I must say I wasn’t as actively engaged in building backlinks as the year before (writing for other websites, responding to HARO requests, etc.). Despite the laid-back approach, Pipeaway’s domain authority grew; according to MOZ, the DA is now 38, while in January 2023, it was 24. Before Google’s updates that cut half of the ranking keywords, DA was 39.

Thank you

Even if I hadn’t been traveling as usual in 2023, I still did see the world nearby. For some of these trips, I have to thank my own wallet, but for others – the generous hosts who put up with me for some (or more than some) time. In the year behind me, Mladen in Switzerland deserves all my thank-yous.

Where to next?

If I would follow my advice, the best places to travel in 2024 would be Morocco, Turkey, Hawaii, and Mexico.

While some of these destinations do call my name, I think the major thing I should do in 2024 is actually to hit the road again. Anywhere and everywhere. Not just local travels, but some that require longer wanderings.

Unless the cosmos throws a curveball in my private or global affairs, I don’t want my 2024 travel plans to stay just a list of wishes

I understand the benefits this website had from my focus on regular writing and publishing, with increased traffic and income from sponsors and affiliate marketing. But I’m also aware I have to find the balance between the two. I’m sure many bloggers struggle with establishing this fine equilibrium between traveling for content and delivering it on their sites.

I was hoping that my investment of more time would even more significantly raise the revenue, which would enable me to possibly engage virtual assistants. But Google’s updates served as a bitter reality check. It’s hard to predict when some of the lost traffic will resurrect from the digital graveyard. Until then, the solution calls for more and more content production.

However, this time I don’t want my travel plans to stay just a list of wishes. So unless the cosmos throws a curveball in my private or global affairs, Asia beckons in 2024. Some plans in this direction last autumn fell apart, but now I’m even more determined to go.

Realistically, where could that be? I assume, South Korea, and some countries in Southeast Asia (Malaysia, Cambodia, Thailand, Indonesia). In Europe, I want to see some friends in Ireland and Switzerland at least and explore more summer destinations in Croatia and Greece.

Now, what could be a more dreamy version of a trip, but still an option? Add Mexico, Japan, Maldives, and more of Eastern Europe, if the situation in Ukraine and other growing boiling zones allows it.

What about you? How do you plan to outshine your 2023? Share your travel resolutions, maybe I steal some.

Wherever you are, stay safe!

Did you like this 2023 year in review?
Pin it for later!

Disclosure: This post may contain affiliate links, meaning if you click on them and make a purchase, Pipeaway may make a small commission, at no additional cost to you. Thank you for supporting our work!

The post 2023 Year in Review: Is Everything in Our Hands? appeared first on Pipeaway.

Nothing says “Let’s save the planet” like putting a fossil fuel boss in charge of a conference dedicated to combating climate change

The Conference of the Parties, now COP28 (the digits counting the generous number of years since we acknowledged the severity of the issue), is the UN‘s annual convention on climate change. It brings political heads together, expecting them to tackle the issues of greenhouse gas emissions, and evaluate our overall progress in the global survival attempt.

This year hosted by Dubai, the oil-rich Arab emirate, and presided over by Sultan Al Jaber, the CEO of the Abu Dhabi National Oil Company (ADNOC), the climate conference tries to keep a straight face while talking about achieving targets set by the Paris Agreement  (COP21) that was, back in 2015, imagining a “sustainable low carbon future”.

Nothing says “Let’s save the planet” like putting a fossil fuel boss in charge of a conference dedicated to combating climate change. On this same Earth that strives for net-zero carbon emissions by 2050, Al Jaber’s appointment as COP president was a controversy bordering mockery. It was revealed that ADNOC was in a position to monitor summit office e-mails, that they planned to use the event to strike new oil and gas deals, and that Al Jaber was questioning climate science, claiming that phase-out of fossil fuels would take us “back into caves”.

Manon Aubry, a French member of the European Parliament, called out the UN’s decision to empower Al Jaber as scandalous, likening it to “having a tobacco multinational overseeing the internal work of the World Health Organization“. Twitter activists compared him with “Count Dracula in charge at the Blood Bank”.

We are not cockroaches

Unless you’ve been living under a rock in the last decades, you know that our survival on this planet is seriously questionable. Well, that’s not entirely true. The endangered Australian cockroach Panesthia lata, previously thought extinct, has been literally hiding under a rock for over eight decades before being proclaimed resurrected.

But we are not cockroaches. Threatened with climate change, we cannot just cross our fingers for a surprise miracle. Playing hide-and-seek on this third rock from the Sun will not make our self-inflicted mess magically disappear.

Making political choices that involve appointing some of the architects of our climate catastrophe as leading voices in solving it is like asking a fox to babysit the chickens. It says that we might have either given in or given up. The reputation of our seriousness toward solving the issues is jeopardized. Is it all just a spectacle?

You’d think by 2023, we’d have moved past the era of empty paroles and symbolic gestures. But here we are, sending our leaders to yet another greenwashing gala, this time to the Arabian Desert, so they could almost literally bury their heads among the sandcastles.

One of the ways we produce irreversible damage to life on this planet is plastic pollution. Read how the travel industry fights against it!

“We belong to the Earth”, said the ostrich king

It was King Charles, the British monarch, who delivered an opening speech at this Ostrich Summit, with messages we would expect to be written for a speaker as privileged as him.

“I pray with all my heart that COP28 will be another critical turning point towards genuine transformational action at a time when, already, as scientists have been warning for so long, we are seeing alarming tipping points being reached. (…) As I have tried to say on many occasions, unless we rapidly repair and restore nature’s unique economy, based on harmony and balance, which is our ultimate sustainer, our own economy and survivability will be imperiled. (…) After all, ladies and gentlemen, in 2050 our grandchildren won’t be asking what we said, they will be living with the consequences of what we did or didn’t do.”

As King Charles was delivering his environmental TED Talk about “an unmissable opportunity to keep our common hope alive”, urging his colleagues to meet this opportunity with a true sense of the emergency, and with a commitment to practical action, he conveniently forgot to mention that his Royal Highness, the UK’s prime minister, and the foreign secretary all took separate private planes to fly to Dubai. Apparently, “practical action” doesn’t include carpooling.

Oxfam, the British organization focusing on the alleviation of global poverty, already calculated that the richest 1% of the world generates as much pollution as two-thirds of humanity. Billionaires living their lives like King Charles will cause 1.3 million heat-related excess deaths before 2030.

It is estimated that a private jet joyriding from London to Dubai is 10 times more polluting than a commercial plane. And yet, the British political elite took not one, not two, but three of these aerial polluters for their journey to the summit.

“The Earth does not belong to us, we belong to the Earth”, said the king of ostriches in his opening address, still coughing out some sand.

Dear King Charles, if you're reading this, you'll be glad to know that there are 10 simple ways to reduce your carbon footprint. And here's where to find the cheapest commercial flights!

Climate action cannot wait

King Charles who accepted to be the opening mascot of the summit is just one of the hundreds of political heads landing at Dubai airport in private jets, the most polluting mode of travel.

“When compared against the average annual carbon footprint per person of 4.7 tonnes in 2019, some private jets release two tonnes of CO2 per hour shared amongst typically very few passengers. Private jets therefore embody a striking example of carbon inequality in which the most privileged contribute significantly to climate change whilst the impacts are often experienced by those least privileged”, says the study that calculated the effects of 315 private flights during COP27 in 2022, when political ostriches got a taste of Egyptian sands.

Research led by Carole Roberts calculated carbon emissions of various transport options between London and Dubai, for COP28. (Not only) British political elite chose the most polluting way to get to the climate conference.

It’s 2023, and not everyone wants to repeat the obvious mistakes. Nepal‘s prime minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal flew to Dubai on a commercial plane, with Nepal Airlines. But before you applaud him, hear this: the flight left Kathmandu two hours before the schedule, leaving 31 not-very-important passengers behind. Nobody knows why the delegation was in such a hurry that the official departure had to be abruptly changed, but it seems their earlier presence in Dubai was of utmost importance. In their defense, it is a known fact that climate action cannot wait.

The airline claims it accommodated the stranded Nepalese passengers in hotels, and flew them to Dubai on alternative flights. As if climate cares.

To prove that we could think differently about long-distance travel, one British family embarked on a four-month-long journey to Australia. Read their inspiring no-fly story!

Charade of Swifties

With twice as many attendees when compared to that polluting Egypt conference (oh, how we learn!), COP28 prepares to leave the highest carbon footprint in history, making even seasoned air traffic controllers break into a cold sweat. Despite Dubai being the home to one of the world’s most connected airports, many world leaders decided to grace the summit with their bountiful contribution to climate change by arriving in private jets.

Whether they started from Japan, Nigeria, or Switzerland, these very important jet-setters flocked to the climate conference as if they were Taylor Swift herself. In 2022, the pop star was crowned the greatest celebrity CO2 polluter, emitting 1,184.8 times more gas than the average person. But the fresh billionaire at least doesn’t pretend that she is circling the planet in her private jet to save it.

Swift is not giving speeches where she would, like seriously concerned King Charles, pledge happily-ever-after if we all just hold hands: “So if we act together to safeguard our precious planet, the welfare of all our people will surely follow.”

One political leader refused to participate in the grand charade. Hilda Heine, the former president of the Marshall Islands, a country acutely threatened by rising sea levels, resigned from the position of COP28 advisor. She wasn’t interested in playing a role in the carbon carnival, where the UAE allegedly planned to use the conference to secure new oil and gas deals. Heine called it “deeply disappointing” and undermining “the integrity of the COP presidency and the process as a whole”.

Do you think that King Charles' messages could make it to the list of the best Save Earth quotes?

Good COP, bad COP

We’ve grown accustomed to commercial companies marketing their products and brands through a greenwashing lens. From Coca-Cola and McDonald’s to Walmart and H&M, the economic giants have learned that trends should be exploited. So if consumers demand green, that’s exactly where the deception would be targeted.

“The moment is critical”, their crowned heads will mutter once again while grinding sand between their teeth

But we weren’t anticipating that climate conferences, those grand assemblies of political promises, would become the latest runway for greenwashing couture. COP28, the largest climate summit in history, smells of a smokescreen, with political heads trying to convince us that they’re doing more for the environment than what our eyes can clearly see.

“The moment is critical”, their crowned heads will mutter once again while grinding sand between their teeth, and swallowing more and more letters.

With now 2 million species threatened by extinction, we know at least one species that doesn’t seem to be endangered at all. These political cockroaches will never tell you the real truth: “The moment is hypocritical.”

What do you think about this climate summit? Are you an optimist?
Comment below and pin this article for later!

Disclosure: This post may contain affiliate links, meaning if you click on them and make a purchase, Pipeaway may make a small commission, at no additional cost to you. Thank you for supporting our work!

The post Unearthing the Problems at COP28: Heads of Nations Meet in the Arabian Desert appeared first on Pipeaway.

Mountains of steel and concrete (read: human-made apartment blocks) almost train us to be on our own. The closer we live to one another, the bigger strangers we become.

When I lived in a skyscraper in Zagreb, my fellow residents wouldn’t greet back in an elevator. Even in my current abode, a four-floor building, tenants often prefer to live unbothered by courtesy. I know my first neighbor’s name is Milka because I optimistically introduced myself when moving in. Since then, I never heard a ‘hello’ back.

The magic of the mountain is in making us connect

But in the mountains, where population density drops, every passer-by becomes the friendliest person one could hope to meet.

This past Saturday, I went hiking Zagreb’s Medvednica mountain, loosely translated as the mountain of bears. I was pleasantly taken aback. Despite the arduous climbing on a warm day, hikers managed to summon smiles between puffs and pants. Such is the magic of the mountain – we relate to each other.

Much like other transformative experiences, the hike up the Croatian capital’s mountain begins with a tunnel. You step into the darkness of the tube, but soon a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel assures you that more life awaits beyond. On one side, the towering human-made mountains, and on the other, the grand architecture of nature. Who wouldn’t want to pass through?

The dance of the fern

Many Saturdays ago (exactly 329, I counted), I was hiking in the Southern Hemisphere, a world away from Zagreb. Separated by an entire alphabet of mountains and seas, there was the city of Bandung, the capital of West Java, Indonesia. Overlooking the town, the highest peak was called Bukit Moko.

On that particular Saturday, I wasn’t hiking alone through the enchanting pine forest. There was me, equipped with my Canon, and Fathin Naufal, armed with his Polaroid camera. I had met him just a day before, through Couchsurfing, another platform that quickly connects mountains of strangers.

He had this dense hair and a thin mustache, wore glasses with a chain, and his wide smile, framed by braces, exuded boyish charm. Although he had circled the Sun just 23 times, he seemed mature, with well-defined visions and beliefs. On the other hand, Fathin was still playful like a child. It didn’t need much to pull me into playing fools for his Polaroid camera, as he liked to document life with instant photographs that adorned his tiny room.

At the same time, there was me, serious and ambitious, with a travel blogging agenda, lugging around a heavy camera bag to the top of Bandung’s highest hill I would never even report about. Until now.

I noticed a delicate fern swaying in the wind, between sunlight and shade, just calling for a photograph. It was challenging to capture that tiny fragile thing with its dancy groove, evading my intention to freeze the moment of beauty for… Well, for forever.

Fathin couldn’t contain his laughter as he watched my futile attempts to trap nature in my memory card. Kneeling on the forest floor, in front of that vivid, attention-eluding fern, I had to laugh as well.

A silent storm within me

While I was, 329 Saturdays later, following the winding trail toward Puntijarka, one of Zagreb’s mountain huts, my thoughts swirled around the fragility of life.

Unlike the dancing fern in the Bandung breeze, much sturdier Medvednica trees couldn’t withstand the ferocity of the July storm. It didn’t matter how rooted they were, or how strong they were; many just snapped in an instant. It was a powerful lesson about the unpredictable nature of existence; we cannot know when we will break.

Now, I may not have been the most prepared for this hike. While I was less broken than those toppled trees, there was still a storm of anger and confusion raging in my head, while I tried to put my best face forward when greeting fellow hikers, those nameless ambassadors of people who care. I was hiking up with that dancing Bandung fern etched in my mind, my tired eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

My smartwatch monitor usually scolds me for not getting enough sleep, urging me to improve my bedtime habits. Yet, this Saturday, after a restless night, the smartwatch had no objections. In fact, it commended my mere 4 hours and 58 minutes of sleep, calling it “not bad”.

“Napping boosts your energy and performance”, it said. That’s right, with such numerous awakenings that night, the smartwatch concluded my fractured dreams were a series of strategic power naps.

“Hello? You alive?”

Fathin wasn’t posting much on social media recently. Ever since he had updated his profile picture in November 2022, featuring him confidently dressed in a sleek all-black outfit, complete with high heels and a stylish purse that resembled a vintage camera, he seemed to have retreated from the online spotlight.

Nonetheless, we chatted in January. He shared his enthusiasm for “cool and huge” interior design projects he was about to do – exciting ventures ranging from new bars to an entire treehouse village. By March, he was reporting back as being super busy with work, with massive projects going on. “Super exciting, yet super exhausting”, he told me.

Fathin also spoke about the “fucked-up weather” in Bali, where he had been building his career in recent years. “Mostly super hot and humid, then crazy rain out of nowhere”, he said. “Hahahaha, all about the balance, hey.”

I was reaching out to him in July and August, when crazy rains were long forgotten, but received no response. It was not typical for him to ghost me. I figured he must’ve changed his phone number again, something he had done a couple of times before.

Facebook’s Messenger still displayed him as “connected”, yet my messages refused to go through.

My last WhatsApp message said “Hello? You alive?”

The wall of silence

On Friday, I attempted once again to fathom Fathin’s reasons for ignoring me. And then, on his Facebook wall, my gaze fell upon someone’s post – a photograph capturing his recognizable silhouette, flashing the victorious V sign. The message said: “Fly high and dance forever.”

The earlier post was even clearer for a sinking heart: “I will miss you so much, my darling. Rest in peace, Fathin. You’ve always space in my heart and will always complete my soul. Lots of love always.”

Fathin and I didn’t really have common friends. Our friendship was intensely one-on-one. Springboarded from just two in-person encounters, one in Java and the other in Bali, we felt strangely connected. I was looking forward to staying with him upon my return to the Island of Gods.

But Fathin has not been around since April 15, and it took me five months to find out. As I heard, he had just suddenly fallen ill, gasping for breath. His heart had stopped beating before he could reach hospital.

Saying goodbyes never comes easy, but this one was particularly brutal. He was just 29, always generous and listening, a wellspring of talent and ambition, brimming with realized and future potential. He had that youthful energy of a fern dancing in the wind, always smiling with his braces, showing off his radical haircuts, piercings, tattoos, and a personal style that boldly challenged the conventions of traditional Indonesian society.

I broke down in tears this Friday, learning that my dear friend was gone. It was a loss that defied comprehension.

It was on Facebook I learned about another tragic loss - the departure of Angela Laurier, the artist who understood the stress of performing "someone else".

From strangers to family

Back in Bandung, 329 Fridays earlier, I stepped off a train from Jakarta. He was there, waiting as promised. I was doubtful if a stranger, who had offered me a place to stay for free, would actually show up. I was new to the Couchsurfing platform. Fathin was my second host, I was his second couch surfer.

He loaded me and my bag on his scooter, and off we went to meet his family. It was a traditional Muslim household, and I was warmly welcomed by a chorus of women and children. Nobody spoke English except for Fathin. They extended offerings of food purchased outside, all the while apologizing for not being better hosts.

None of it made sense to me. Only later, I learned that, on the very day I arrived, the grandmother’s sister had passed away. Devastated by sorrow, these kind-hearted people wore the warmest of smiles, like some mountain hikers, prioritizing my comfort while their internal world was falling apart.

I completely understand where Fathin got his warm and positive spirit from. He was so obviously a black sheep of the family, and yet, instead of being a complete rebel, he had absorbed kindness and empathy.

Encounters with local families are what makes global traveling truly valuable. I met another modest, yet incredibly empowering family at Bete Giyorgis, one of the most impressive world churches.

That same evening, Fathin took me to a local street market and introduced me to pandan rice balls and martabak, thick, buttery pancakes, with peanuts and chocolate. I was bought.

Our original plan had been to ascend the Tangkuban Perahu volcano the following morning. But discouraged by the steep price for foreigners, we decided to visit a more affordable local attraction instead – Bukit Moko. After all, unlike people, volcanoes would always be there.

The road to Bandung’s hills was quite steep. I had to dismount from the motorbike at certain sections, so Fathin could drive through. Taking those asses uphill required effort.

The woodpecker’s tap-tap

Some sport bikes whizzed downhill, as I ascended the slopes of Zagreb’s mountain, with a lost friend in my mind. No friendly ‘hellos’ this time. Life’s too quick for that.

I’d stop only briefly, to take a sip of water, so my back could continue sweating, leaving a giant wet mark on my shirt.

“Super exciting, yet super exhausting”, rang in my ears. “Super hot and humid”, it all mixed up.

Mountains are restorative in more than one way. Even amid all those broken, seemingly strong trees, the rhythmic sound of a persistent woodpecker echoed through the forest. There was life beyond what you could see.

You pass the tunnel and disconnect from the civilization’s frantic rush.

Reflection in the stars

Bukit Moko forest was different. It was a hill where civilization and nature grew into each other. Streetlights emerged directly from the trees, and even charging stations were installed. After all, those selfies drain mobile phone batteries.

Among the most sought-after selfie spots were the colossal reflective stars of Puncak Bintang. Fathin and I, naturally, posed for some reflection.

In my travel journal, I would note that we paused for some juice refreshments before heading to the Babakan Siliwangi forest walk. The youngsters of Bandung were shooting urban fashion editorials there.

After savoring a cup of tea at a cozy coffee shop where Fathin’s friend worked, he took me for lunch to a place called The Volcano. Since I had missed out on visiting Tangkuban Perahu, Fathin thought we could at least eat some chicken at this eatery that promoted itself with “The Ultimate Experience” banner.

Fathin ordered an entire chicken, but it arrived at our table half-raw. We sent it back, and after an additional 15 minutes of baking, it returned equally undercooked. We requested a take-out, and later that evening my host would over-bake the hell out of that roast chicken.

Back to the chicken

Fathin’s Couchsurfing profile today says he was a vegetarian. I assume this dietary choice evolved after 2017. We shape our identities gradually.

I haven’t eaten much chicken in the last six years either. Yet, this Saturday, at Puntijarka mountain hut, in the absence of martabak, I ordered chicken for lunch. I wasn’t at the top of the volcano again. But this one was baked well.

Fathin Naufal – from ‘om’ to freedom

Those 329 Saturdays ago, I caught just a brief glimpse into the extraordinary life this unique artsy soul led in his hometown.

Fathin Naufal was the one who introduced me to NuArt Sculpture Park, where his friend smuggled us in, and I managed to snap a pic of the biggest Vishnu statue in the world while it was still a work in progress.

My friend was well-connected, especially within art circles. His talents knew no bounds: he was a performer, a storyteller, a dancer, a singer, a guitar and a piano player.

When I first met him, he proudly displayed his henna tattoo, an ohm symbol on his wrist. “I can’t have real tattoos”, he texted me earlier. “I’m a Muslim, lol. My parents would be angry.”

That changed when he moved away. Bali liberated him, and Fathin expressed himself through a handpoke tattoo. His fashion style also blossomed. He never seemed afraid of being judged as different, or eccentric.

When it comes to imagining new interiors, he was designing everything from toy stores and apartments to teenage gyms and contemporary dance centers.

This clearly perspective young man could hold deep conversations but also liked to laugh. I loved making him laugh.

During a quick tour of Bandung, he even took me on a journey back in time, to his student years. Villa Isola, an art-deco building on the campus of the University of Education, has an aura of mystery, with tales of apparition sightings.

Fathin recalled a peculiar experience there himself. He told me that he was with his friends when they heard the distinct sound of horse bells. That night, all three of them were haunted by the same chilling nightmare – a horse-drawn carriage running over them.

Bearing with the pain

When that May Sunday in 2017 arrived, and it was time for me to depart, Fathin accompanied me to the bus station. He was standing there long, refusing to leave before the bus’s tires began to roll.

“It’s a bit teary but I can handle it lol”, he texted me, just meters away, separated by the bus’s glass windows.

“Don’t forget about us”, he added. “My mom has bought chicken and everything to cook something for you. She feels guilty because she hasn’t even cooked anything for you.”

In that moment of familial grief, that generous woman had room for the feelings of guilt, toward a perfect stranger.

Perhaps I’m not naming things right. True, I had only met Fathin twice. Those 48 hours in Bandung in 2017, and then one evening in Bali in 2019. But our long-distance connection that kept on going was quite strong. I couldn’t just call him an acquaintance. There were too many tears in my eyes when I learned what happened. That vibrant 29-year-old, overflowing with love, was gone? It made no sense.

Our moment in time was like a casual passing-by on some mountain trail. But our “Hello” was far from an empty ritual

Before I left his hometown, Fathin gifted me a necklace adorned with a ceramic polar bear, bearing the word “chill” on its side. It was a profound reminder message, and I wonder if I should have worn it more often, as I undoubtedly will now.

Without anything of equal significance to offer in return, I presented him with a simple bracelet I had received in Kuala Lumpur on Vesak Day. He accepted it with gratitude and called it a lucky bracelet. Now I know bracelets aren’t miraculous.

It’s remarkable how brief encounters with strangers can connect us so deeply. Our moment in time may not have appeared different from a casual passing-by on some mountain trail. But our mutual greeting, though insignificant in the grand scheme of history, was far from an empty ritual.

It was an honor to be able to say “Hello” to you, my dear friend. Your presence has left an indelible imprint on my Polaroid heart.

Have you ever met anyone as briefly as I met Fathin Naufal? Did that person leave a mark on you? Reach out to them today!
And pin this in memoriam piece for later!

The post Fathin Naufal & 329 Saturdays: Fading Out Like a Reverse Polaroid appeared first on Pipeaway.