How I Ended Up Here: The Story Behind Off Script Travel Co

As I sit at my desk before starting work today, I realise I’ve already accomplished more than I usually give myself credit for. Personal emails cleared. Work inbox under control. A to-do list written and waiting. The day hasn’t even properly started yet.

Around me is a very real snapshot of where I’m at right now: used tissues scattered across the desk thanks to a deep dive into old boxes of physical photos and travel souvenirs (note to self — always take antihistamines before opening dusty memory boxes), empty candy wrappers from my current attempt to quit sugar (and my very unscientific belief that chewy lollies somehow stops sneezing), and more technology than I probably need in one place.

But underneath the chaos, there’s a quiet feeling of relief. Putting pen to paper — or fingers to keyboard — feels cathartic. Healing, even. Like I’ve unlocked something I didn’t know I needed.

Travel Doesn’t Start With a Plane Ticket (And It Never Did for Me)

When I think about travel, my mind instinctively jumps to overseas trips — passports, long-haul flights, foreign accents. But as I started tracing my earliest travel memories, I realised something important: travelling domestically around New Zealand is still travel.

It’s just a simpler kind.

No passports. No visas. No strict baggage limits. You pack the car with everything you might need, leave before sunrise, and move on your own timetable instead of an airline’s. Looking back, this kind of travel quietly shaped everything.

This blog began with a simple question — how do I travel, and live, beyond the plan? I shared that starting point in my first post.

My Earliest Travel Memories in New Zealand

Some of my earliest memories involve being woken up in the dark by Mum or Dad, bundled into blankets and pyjamas, and placed straight into the car. As a child, it felt like the middle of the night — though in reality it was probably 4:30 or 5:00am.

My dad was heavily involved in New Zealand motorsports throughout the 1980s and early 1990s, crewing for my godfather. That meant weekends and holidays spent travelling to racetracks around the country — some of which may no longer exist. My memories are patchy: a dirt-mounded track with a bridge leading into the pits, random motels, sitting at a kitchenette bench eating chocolate Tiny Teddies. Whether these memories belong to one place or several stitched together, I’m not entirely sure.

Thankfully, Mum and Dad were big photo takers. Those photos now help fill in the gaps, grounding the fragments into something real.

Road Trips, Resourcefulness, and Learning to Compromise

As I got older, travel shifted into school-holiday road trips with Mum. Our unspoken motto was always “we should see our own country before seeing the world.” At the time, I believed that wholeheartedly. Now, I also recognise that international travel was a luxury — and an expensive one.

There’s no resentment there. If anything, it shaped me.

Those trips taught us to be resourceful. We hunted for accommodation deals. If we couldn’t afford to do everything, we picked the top two or three experiences and made the most of them. Mum was forever asking me to pose for photos — a guaranteed eye-roll moment — but in the 1990s, photography was a gamble. You looked through the viewfinder, clicked, and hoped for the best. You didn’t see the results until weeks later.

Annoying then. Priceless now.

These days, Mum can take twenty photos of the same pose, delete the blurry ones, and keep fifteen “just in case.” If anything, we’ve swung too far the other way. Learning to cull photos is still a work in progress.

What I Remember — And What I Don’t

The trips I struggle to remember are the ones where we were simply ticking boxes. The trips I remember vividly — the ones with photos and stories attached — are the ones where something meant something. Places that no longer exist. Experiences that have changed over time. Moments that felt like more than just being somewhere.

That, I think, is where my definition of meaningful travel began.

When Travel Doesn’t Match Expectations

Not every moment lived up to how I imagined it would feel. There were times when something — or someone — “ruined” a moment, leaving me disappointed for hours or even the rest of the day. But almost always, I’d wake up the next morning refreshed, ready to look for something new that would overwrite the disappointment.

Most of the time, it worked.

Those moments rarely stick with me now. What they taught me instead is how I want to travel going forward: if something doesn’t feel right in my gut, I need to listen. Forcing myself into experiences just to say I’ve done them often costs more than it gives.

When something does go wrong, I’ve learned to sit with it, reflect on it, and eventually turn it into a lesson. It might take time, but even the unfortunate moments can soften into meaningful memories.

What “Off Script” Travel Means to Me

Travel will never be perfect — and that’s the point. You have to adapt to the ebbs and flows of wherever you are. In the Pacific Islands, there’s island time. Control is an illusion. You relax into it or you fight it — and only one of those makes the trip better.

For me, off script means stepping back, taking a breath, and fully experiencing what a moment has to offer. It doesn’t mean no planning. It means planning with space. Choosing what feels right. Compromising when travelling with others. Meeting people. Learning from them. Sharing advice. Celebrating small wins. Leaving places — and people — just a little better than when I arrived.

I’m still learning. I don’t always get it right the first time. The trying is what matters.

As an introvert, getting out of my comfort zone doesn’t come naturally — but I do it anyway. Most of the time, you never see those people again. Occasionally, you make lifelong friends — the kind you can go years without seeing and still pick up exactly where you left off. Those are the best ones. You know who you are.

Why This Blog Exists

Off Script Travel Co is my place to reflect, retell, and process my travel stories — the good, the awkward, the embarrassing. It’s a place where you can learn from my mistakes, ask questions, or share your own experiences.

I have big travel dreams — the kind that take time — so for now, it’s one step at a time.

I hope that through these weekly musings, you find something that resonates. Somewhere you feel seen or understood. I’m not here to talk politics or religion. What I write are my thoughts and feelings — and putting them into words is how I make sense of the world.

This space is for those who want help planning travel, who want direction, who want to laugh at my missteps, or who simply enjoy reading about travel beyond the itinerary.

What to Expect Going Forward

I’ll be sharing weekly posts covering different aspects of travel: planning, reflection, anticipation, and hindsight. I’ll write about how places feel before I go, while I’m there, and after I return. Future trips will focus on culture, history, nature, and once-in-a-lifetime experiences.

Would you like to come along for the ride?

For now, this is where I am today — looking forward to another chance to learn something new.

You don’t have to travel perfectly to travel meaningfully — and if that resonates, I’d love for you to stick around.