Itís in the constant motion, the things we see along the way, the people we meet at pitstops who invite us to join their fire-charred, starlit supper for a few short hours of kinship. Itís coconuts and samosas, glacial lakes and detours, and hanging feet out of train doors as they trundle through leafy, mountainous tea plantations. Itís the ďoh, go on thenísÖĒ, the roadside tea rooms, and the personalities that stick within our minds forever. Memories so technicolour, so tactile, that even in a hundred years of storytelling, they could be plucked from a pocket and replayed as if they were yesterday.

For journeys stay with us; we are nomads by nature, moving with the seasons, documented since the beginning of time on lay lines and trade winds, as pilgrims and traders. We were born to roam transcontinental, by Orient Express or laced boot over the Andes, convertible on Route 66 or sail boat across the Channel; to feel the earth in all its forms. An instinct buried so deep within us, itís little wonder our urge to roam so often exceeds the destination itself. Find your journey-folk.

The Vagabond

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No agenda but their own, no breakfast company but the paperback stuffed in their knapsack; the freedom to up sticks and move onto the next city on any whim rules this travellerís heart. The Vagabond wanders at will from plaza to riverside, refugio hut to Moulin Rouge. Sketching, writing, talking in bars over Champagne, only to disappear into the night. Sabbaticals to a cabin by the sea suit this solo wanderer, where adventure and calm come and go as easily as the ebbing tide.

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The Wildling

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Into the wild they goÖ Those souls who only sing when soaring with the eagles on mountaintops. Whose hearts are fullest where the wi-fi is weak. Or better yet, where thereís none at all. These travellers look closer than the rest of us; they seek the autumn mushrooms and gather elderberries for tinctures. They notice the way that weathered faces turn to the sun like leathered sunflowers and how the air smells between the pines in every element. They, too, are of the earth. So entwined in celestial navigations that they can read the moors, move with its winds, and return to remote dwellings when rest beckons.

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The Thalassophile

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At ease only with toes sunken in sand, this ocean-loving rambler chases the sun over coast path and rockpool, north coast to south. Whether early morning dips or afternoon snorkels, Cornwall to the Caribbean, these folk find their breath when faced with the predictability of the moon and her tides. Even when the wind whips the sea into froth, calmness ensues; a meditation sponsored by the sublime.

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The Caravan

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Always with friends in tow, this wayfarer takes joy from sharing lifeís experiences. Group hikes, dinner parties and wreath making by candlelight, The Caravan brings the party with them wherever they may go. They move in carnival style, tripping from colourful home to Michelin-starred restaurant with a cacophony of revellers in tow wherever they go. For them, happiness comes from forever being surrounded by loved ones. Where lies the fun in going it alone?

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Many thanks to EASTBYEASTWEST who loaned us a selection of their beautiful handcrafted creations for The Journeyman shoot.