Some of the places I've called home

My room in Sucre, Bolivia. It's a four-bed dorm in which I'm the only guest.
The streaming sunlight in the window tells me it's time to wake up. A few blinks and then I think to myself, "What city am I in today? Oh yeah, that one."

And this was how many of my days started this year while on the road. Sometimes, these mornings came in a dormitory full of shoestring backpackers. Sometimes, it was a luxury hotel I splurged on when I got in the mood not to share my space. Every once in a blue moon, I got to indulge in the ultimate traveller's luck of being the only guest in a shared dorm. And a little less frequently, I would run into the ultimate traveller's curse of sleeping in a room infested with bedbugs.

It's a refreshingly simple way to live - to wake up in a new city every few days, carrying my home in the confines of my pack. If you asked, I couldn't tell you where I'll be next week. And maybe that's why I've come to cherish each of my accommodations so much more. All these hotels, hostels, lodges, and apartments. For a short while, I make them my refuge and they become the grounding center of a life otherwise lived in the wind.

Here are a few shots taken in some of the places I've stayed on this trip - my temporary homes.

Looking out my bedroom window on Taquile Island, Peru
The colonial-style hallway of my hostel in Cusco. It was a cosy place with 18 beds per room.
The bedstand of my room in Nazca, Peru
Sitting in the lounge area of my hostel in Paracas, Peru
The open door to my room in the Amazon. The cup of water is for a cat I made friends with while here.

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