“You can’t leave the country. Sorry. Here’s your passport.” This is what Philippine Immigration said to me that day and I, for obvious reasons, went home devastated. Everything had been ready for my trip to Taiwan, but the officer just asked me to go back home because they were not letting me take my flight.

Back home with a heavy heart, I flopped down on the couch and recalled the day my passport was stolen from my bag.

I was walking on a narrow sidewalk in the business district of the Philippines, Makati City, at around 6 AM. I felt a man coming closer to my backpack. Feeling suspicious, I let the man walk ahead of me and followed him. Once we reached the underpass, I tapped his shoulder to ask him if he took anything from my bag – yes, I was feeling that brave that day. He denied it and walked away.

As soon as I got to the office, I rummaged through my backpack and noticed my passport was missing. That couldn’t be. I had booked flights to Cambodia for the following month. Immediately, I prepared the documents to request a replacement. My flight date was getting closer. I never got a new passport in time for my outbound flight.

A few days after, I received a message from a man who claimed to have found my passport at a construction site five kilometers away from where I worked.

Thanks to his honesty, I was able to leave for Cambodia, not understanding that what I did was illegal. I shouldn’t have left the country with an affidavit of loss filed and active. The police could have arrested me at the airport upon coming back to Manila, but I got lucky. If they had caught me, it could have been a disaster.

Back on my couch, I asked myself, “Why am I going through all this trouble for travel? Why am I heartbroken? What is this all for?”

Traveling alone is lonely. There’s no one to share experiences with. No matter how good you are at recording a sunset, you can never capture its genuine beauty, nor how you felt at that exact moment. There’s robbery in hotels and theft on the streets. You can get sick on the road. It could be dangerous for a solo female traveler like me. There’s so much risk involved.

Why, then, do we travel? Why do we leave the comforts of our home?

We travel because the road is generous with instructions about the world. There are no teachers, no school grades, no homework. What do you do when you get lost in a country that uses English sparingly? How do you get back to your hotel using a unique transport system? When do you know when it’s too dangerous to go out at night? These things you can only learn when you’re out there looking after yourself.

We travel because it’s entertaining. It temporarily removes us from our boring jobs, routine, and the ordinary. Ever notice how you’re like after a vacation? You get a certain glow, feel invigorated, and ready to take on the world again. We do it because it reveals, in its entirety, what we used to only watch, read, and dream about.

Ultimately, we travel because it makes the world smaller. It shows us humans are the same wherever they are in the world. Everyone complains about their government. A country’s food not only speaks of the people’s appetite but of its history. Mountains are cruel to flimsy tents and shoes. We all crave companionship, honesty, and love. We want to be heard, forgiven, and appreciated.

Alain de Botton says this about travel: “The pleasure we derive from journeys is perhaps dependent more on the mindset with which we travel than on the destination we travel to.” More than the views, it’s how travel changes us — suddenly, we’re open to anything that comes our way — that endears travel to us.

Two years after that incident, I finally received my new (and valid) passport and tried again. As soon as the immigration officer stamped on my passport signifying his approval, I smiled to myself. “Bali, here I come.”

This book is about stories like these composed as poetry. My heart still sings whenever I recall the playful, odd, and funny situations I got into. Some make me think I was too trusting and reckless, like riding a motorbike with a tour guide who had handcuffs in his motorcycle box. He showed it to me while we were alone in the jungle. That was scary! There are moments I wish I can experience again soon, like watching the breathtaking Angkor Wat during sunset or a turtle eating underwater. I’m sure you have your own travel tales.

Whether you went to a faraway country or outside of yourself, the memories you collected stayed with you for a long time.

May this book remind you of the most treasured memories from those trips – the young people on a gap year, the creaking beds, the freshly cooked street food, the summer days on a tropical island, the harsh winters, the lost luggage, the mishaps at the airport, and the journey that changed your life forever.

May this encourage you to, once in a while, step beyond what’s comfortable, walk into a different realm, and keep moving.