I have a terrible memory. This doesn’t make me particularly sad, in fact, I find that the details that plague some of my friends from their past toxic friendships or situationships tend to wash right over me. I experience something, I feel it, then I forget about it. This is usually fine, except when I spend my “fun money” on travel with the hope that these sentimental experiences will stay with me long after the cramped plane ride home.

I can confidently say I don’t have many memories from my tenth year, except for the family trip to Italy. To this day, I remember a long, stony staircase through the middle of town. I remember an Italian tween playing keep-away with my brother’s shoe at a town party, the language barrier utterly irrelevant through giggly shrieks. I remember the dusty hot walk through Italian ruins. I remember a hotel courtyard shrouded in trellises. I remember my first experience with Kinder Surprise- discovering the sweet delight while being serenaded by my family for my 10th birthday breakfast in bed.

For years after this trip, the clear-as-day memories baffled me.

I finally solved the puzzle when I went through my old journals before heading to college and discovered the hand-marbled Firenze journal I kept every day while I was traveling.

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The pages recounted the steps, the ivy, the town party, and long travel days. Upon reading the journal, I noticed a specific intentionality in what I wanted to remember, despite occasionally failing to follow through. Take, for instance, the space reserved for candy “rappers”:

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The discovery of this journal must have been one of the catalysts for my plunge into journaling. While in college, I turned to my journal to make sense of everything, from organizing my schoolwork to navigating tricky relationships. I started sharing journaling tips on my YouTube channel and prompts on Instagram.

Eight years after my Italy trip and before my four months studying abroad in London, my cousin gave me one of the best gifts I’ve ever received—a travel journal. I’m not sure if this was inspired by my recent uptick in journaling at college or her own affinity toward the practice, but it was so thoughtful and clearly something she had been working on for a while. She bought a Moleskin, and on every 10ish pages, she hand-wrote a check-in question about the friends I was with or travel highlights. Pages were adorned with vintage newspaper clippings and gold annotations.

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This journal was the first thing I packed in my Large Away suitcase. The first week of our studies in London, I showed the book to my friends, and they were inspired to acquire their own blank journals. Before long, the three of us were on a mission to fill all of the pages before returning home.

Every weekend, we’d travel to a different country and take turns reminding each other to grab business cards, receipts, and film photographs from the various museums, restaurants, and hotels we’d visit. In the weeks that followed, we’d spend our nights huddled around our wobbly Ikea coffee table in our student housing and fill up the pages. We’d detail new inside jokes, people we met, and the comedy of errors that would inevitably occur on all of our trips.

The journal itself is now one of my most prized possessions- the photos and memories inside are some of the most special months of my life, but it also reminds me of the ritual I shared with my roommates. The nights we spent reflecting on our trips, giggling about the travel hiccups, and slowly getting to know each other on a deeper level were some of my favorite moments from my four months away. Those girls are some of my best friends to this day, and the travel journal from my year abroad feels like a souvenir not only for the trip but of the precious, early stages of female friendship- (pardon the sappiness!)

Rooted in my love for journaling, I launched No Particular Order in 2022, a business centered around guided reflection. Our first journal, Volume 1, is evergreen—it's a prompted journal designed to be used in any order. Since launching the business, I’ve known I wanted to author a travel journal, and we made it happen earlier this summer.

Off the Grid is a one-trip travel journal in three parts: before, during, and after your travels. The questions throughout the 64-page book are largely inspired by my own experiences recording my travels and are just as fun to fill out as they are to look back on when you’re back home.

We celebrated the journal's launch with Away at The Standard, East Village, with views overlooking Manhattan. I often forget to pack things on my various trips, but as long as I have my Away suitcase and Off the Grid, I know I’m ready for anything. We can’t wait to see where you’ll go!

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