The Journey of My Stories Also The Stories of My Journey

The beginning of the story, and stories.
My childhood

At the end of my fourth grade, I lost my job.

We selected our class monitor democratically - through a vote. And I have been the monitor and never failed because I always got the highest score, and maybe I was lovely.

However, at the beginning of the fourth grade, a girl named Jiayi was transferred to our class. She was outgoing and kinda cute. And the most important is, she was like a story factory, always telling various kinds of stories vividly. So, gradually, she became the most popular one in our class.

I remember clearly the Election Day. I gave a speech about my grades and awards as usual. And the next candidate was Jiayi. She walked up and told a story about her family, explaining why she had to transfer, and how she missed her old friends. Everyone was touched, including me. So, I lost. I was upset, but I still said congratulation, just the way double-faced adults do.

Long time later, I started to realize this thing really influenced me. I forced myself to get over my feelings of self-pity, speaking in public or try hosting, acting, even change my major to public relations. I was not good at it, so I decided to learn it. With time, as I began to master it, I came to love it.


My dad is the last person in the world I want to travel with. To be honest, he has no idea of the meaning of traveling. He prefers to hire a tour guide who arranges everything so we don’t need to bother to the plan, ticket, and so on.

Dad and me

Last year, I went to a national park with him. I set out without my brain. I thought that I could get rid of all the hassle and just enjoy the trip. The trip was like, get off the car, see a mountain, listen to the introduction, take photos and back to the car, again and again. The mountain was gorgeous, photos were just beautiful. But I feel so boring because there was no single story I can tell after the trip. And the only local person I talked with was the tour guide.

I started to think about the purpose and motivation of travel.

The seemingly enjoyable trip makes me realize that the time I spent on finding a hotel, the exhausting flight delay, the argument I had with the airport officer and the people helped me when I get lost consists of the unique and authentic experience.

I still do not know the purpose and motivation of travel. What I know is that I am curious about the world, and vice versa.

How I combine stories and travel

I have tried different kinds of travel, with parents, with friends with strangers and alone. I have also tried random destination following the subway route, and travel without cellphone.

How would you feel unplug yourself for a 3-day trip without cellphone? To me, it was like a self-torture experiment.

It was 2 years ago. The trip started with an-hour train ride. The first challenge I set for myself was to know how to get from train station to the hotel without using cellphone. The man sat next to me was like a thousand miles away as he was watching a movie with headphones fixed to his ears. I looked around and found there was only one person not hooking on screens. It was me.

Anyway, I need to be brave and give a try. I poked the man and shared my mint with him to break the ice. He said no thanks, politely and indifferent, without removing his headphones.

I followed up quickly and asked him how to get to the Holiday Inn. He replied immediately, without thinking, not far, you can walk there, just google it. After I said I don’t have my cellphone with me. I clearly remember the shocked look on his face. Seems like he can’t believe who could live in the 21st century without a cellphone.

I explained my experiment. He suddenly showed interest and eventually removed his headphones. What happened next was we spent the hour-long ride chatting. He shared vivid stories of his hometown, told me lots of cool places to check out, and even gave me a ride to the hotel.

That was the moment I realized that we are able to share our stories with others and we just need an opportunity.

Therefore, I would like to be a storyteller of travel, creating authentic, immersive, and maybe inspiring stories of travel experiences by multimedia methods.

There was a ancient city located in northwest China, about thousands years ago, named Gaochang, while only dilapidated walls and structures surrounded by desert left now. Not many people know there was a ancient city open to visitors.

I went there 1 year go. The left man is a homeless living in the lost city, playing the native instrument for rare visitors. The right gentleman playing drum is the tour guide of the ancient city.

The ethnic music made me think of how there looked like 2,000 years ago.

Created By
Fan Lu

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