Travel long enough, and you start to notice a pattern: no matter where you go (bustling bazaars, tiny mountain towns, neon-lit night markets), people ask you the same five questions. Some are friendly. Some are curious. And some are… well, strategic. Here are the big five, what they actually mean, and how to answer like a seasoned traveler.

I love makeup, but I hate carrying a full Sephora store in my suitcase because makeup gets heavy . (You know exactly what I'm talking about.) After way too many international flights, airport naps, and “why does my skin look like this?” moments, I’ve finally built a travel makeup routine that’s tiny , fast , and shockingly effective . This is everything I actually pack: the real, reliable, jet-lag-proof, humidity-surviving lineup that lives in my travel pouch. These are also

If you’ve traveled for more than five minutes, you’ve probably met that  taxi driver. The one who smiles warmly, helps with your bag… and then, somewhere between your hotel and your sanity, suddenly announces: “Sorry, meter broken.” Ah yes. The international phrase meaning: Prepare your wallet, you sad adventurer. But fear not. Here are the tricks I use to avoid taxi scams in an attempt to keep both my money and my dignity intact. A taxi with Yeni Camii (New Mosque) in the ba

If you’ve ever wanted to test your confidence, your acting skills, your poker face, and your blood pressure all at once, just walk into the Grand Bazaar. Haggle culture is alive, well, and fueled by espresso-strength charisma and chain smoking. And here’s the thing nobody tells you until it’s too late: The shopkeepers are Olympic-level negotiators. You are not. You are a sweet summer child with a tote bag taking pictures of the ceiling. But don’t worry, I made the mistakes s

Sitting at the train station in Delhi, India, with my dad. And a whole lotta luggage. I always try to pack light. And by “pack light,” I mean I say I’m going to pack light, and then I still end up with 47.5 small items that somehow weigh more than my suitcase. Can someone explain how this even happens? The math ain't mathing. But after years of travel (and several-ish meltdowns), these are the things I never  leave on a trip without. Let's be honest: if it makes your travel

Packing for Istanbul in November is a bit like packing for three seasons at once. You’ll land expecting crisp fall weather, maybe even a sneak peek of winter… and instead you get a 68° afternoon where you’re sweating through your “cute layered outfit". Then the next day? Cold wind off the Bosphorus that makes you grateful you threw in that one heavier jacket (but that you still forgot back in the AirBnb). Welcome to Istanbul in November, where one side of the hill can be cool