For most of my life, I thought travel was something that only happened somewhere else.

It happened in countries with teetering temples older than Canada. It happened in cities that had survived wars, empires, and centuries of reinvention. It happened in places whose names sounded exciting enough that people saved them to vision boards long before they knew where they were on a map (I’m looking at you, Timbuktu).

Meanwhile, I lived in Saskatchewan.

If you’d asked me fifteen years ago whether Saskatchewan belonged on a travel website alongside Japan or Scotland, I probably would have laughed. Not because I disliked living here, but because I had quietly accepted the same idea a lot of us grow up with on the Prairies: that the most interesting places are somewhere else.

So I waited for trips.

Travel was something I did when I boarded a plane. Everything in between was just life.

Looking back, I think that was a shame.

The change didn’t happen all at once. There wasn’t some moment on a mountaintop where I suddenly understood the meaning of travel. I like to think that it happened much more quietly than that. I’d end up stumbling across a strange historical fact about the city I lived in and spend an afternoon trying to understand it a bit better. I’d notice a building I’d walked past for years and finally asked myself why it looked the way it did. I’d start reading about one neighbourhood and somehow end up hours deep into local wikis because one answer kept leading to another question.

Eventually I realized something that probably should have been obvious: the places hadn’t changed. I had.

Curiosity is a better way to travel

The internet has become incredibly good at telling us what we’re supposed to see.

Search any destination and you’ll find the same viewpoints, the same cafés, the same “hidden gems” that stopped being hidden sometime around 2019. I’ve used those lists too, and many of the places deserve the attention they get. Places are tourist hotspots for a reason.

But the moments I remember most rarely came from an itinerary.

Why is this town here in the first place? Why did somebody build this? What happened before this became a tourist attraction? What story are people walking past because they’re looking at something else?

Those questions have taken me to some unexpected places. Abandoned theme parks and longhouses in the jungle and remote mountain farms.

Sometimes they’ve led me halfway around the world. Sometimes they’ve led me to a street ten minutes from my house.

Saskatchewan taught me how to travel

When I started Only Thing Travel, I assumed Saskatchewan content would fill the gaps between bigger trips. I’d make a few local videos, head overseas, then come back and do it again.

Instead, Saskatchewan has become one of the most important teachers I think I’ve ever had when it comes to travel.

When you’ve lived somewhere your whole life, you tend to stop asking questions. You drive the same roads and never really wonder why they exist. You pass by buildings without knowing who built them. You assume you’ve already seen everything worth seeing simply because you’ve seen it often.

I have done that for years.

Then I started treating my own city like I would a place I’d just landed in for the first time.

And all of a sudden, Saskatoon felt very different.

The history of University Drive isn’t just a local curiosity. It became a story about ambition, city building and how communities imagine their future. Introducing the non-alc store Dry Supply became a lesson in how one bold idea can redefine a market. Showcasing the antique store Indefinite Article inspired people to learn the stories behind found and used objects.

On the surface, those places have almost nothing in common. But the questions that led me there were exactly the same. That’s when I was reaffirmed that Only Thing Travel has never really been about travel at all.

It’s about curiosity.

So… what is the “Only Thing”?

I’ve been asked this a handful of times. And the honest answer is that it isn’t one literal thing. It’s sort of the story that unlocks everything else.

Every place has one. The only thing that matters.

Sometimes it’s a person. Sometimes it’s a piece of history. Sometimes it’s an ordinary-looking street that turns out to explain an entire city. Sometimes it’s the conversation you almost didn’t have because you were too busy trying to get the perfect photo.

I’m not trying to see everything anymore. I’ve accepted that’s impossible. What I’m looking for is the story that makes everything else make sense. The moment where you suddenly understand why people care about a place, why it exists or why it’s different from everywhere else you’ve been.

That’s the only thing I really chase. Everything else tends to follow.

What you’ll find here

Only Thing Travel is where I collect those stories.

Some articles are practical guides. Because at the end of the day, knowing which bus to catch is occasionally just as useful as understanding the history of the neighbourhood you’re visiting. You’ll find honest itineraries, budgets, mistakes I’ve made and things I’d absolutely do differently next time.

Other stories are driven entirely by curiosity. They explore architecture, local history, culture, overlooked communities or questions that refused to leave me alone until I found an answer. Those may just be my favourites because they’re usually the ones I never planned to write.

You’ll also find field notes from the road, documentaries, and photography and reflections that don’t quite fit into a 60-second video.

One thing you won’t find is a divide between “real travel” and “local travel.” That distinction no longer makes much sense to me. A fascinating story in Saskatoon deserves the same attention as one in Tokyo. A small prairie town can be just as memorable as a famous European capital if you’re willing to look closely enough. The geography changes. The approach doesn’t.

This is also a place to be wrong

One of my favourite parts of travelling is discovering that my first impression was completely off. It happens more often than I’d like to admit.

I’ve arrived expecting to love places that left me cold. I’ve dismissed places that eventually became favourites. I’ve started researching one story only to discover the real story was something I hadn’t even thought to ask about. And I hope that never stops.

Only Thing Travel isn’t about pretending to have all the answers. It’s about following the questions wherever they lead, even if they prove me wrong along the way.

Honestly, those are usually the best stories anyway.

Why follow?

Because I think the world becomes far more interesting when we stop trying to collect places and start trying to understand them.

That doesn’t require an unlimited travel budget or months off work. Sometimes it means flying to the other side of the planet. Sometimes it means walking around your own neighbourhood with your phone in your pocket and your eyes a little more open than usual.

Either way, the goal is the same.

Notice something.

Ask why it matters.

Follow the answer.

Join Curiosity Dispatches

Social media is where most of these stories begin. Curiosity Dispatches are where they get a little more space to breathe.

Every week or so, I’ll send one story, one observation or one idea that didn’t quite fit into a video. Sometimes it’ll come from the other side of the world. Sometimes it’ll come from an afternoon wandering around Saskatchewan with no particular destination in mind.

You’ll also get practical travel notes, behind-the-scenes stories, early access to new articles and documentaries, and the occasional recommendation that hasn’t appeared anywhere else. I promise there won’t be endless emails. Definitely not any algorithm to fight off. Just a collection of thoughtful stories for people who are still curious about the world.

If that sounds like you, I’d love to have you along for the journey.