Hi there, I'm Lisa!
Losing Your Feet is a collection of stories, travel diaries, tips and so, so many photos, as I chase my life around the globe. I am constantly getting lost in life's big moments, the small moments, and more hikes than I'd care to admit. My hope is that I can inspire others savour the experience of traveling as much as they can, even from their own hometown.
Should you ever travel with me you will find me wandering off the path, falling behind the group, or just standing and staring at something awesome. My camera will probably be in my hand. My notebook will be there shortly after. I invite you to come with me and get lost around the world!
“It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.”
- J.R.R. Tolkien
My Dad always told me to get out of the city as often as possible. Whether it was weekend camps, school trips, tagging along to hockey tournaments, or the ultimate: heading to a cottage, my parents always made it possible for me to escape of the suburbs.
I’d always been fascinated by cameras, we used to spend hours as kids looking over our parents’ old photo albums. Mesmerised by the people we recognised as ‘grown-ups’ at parties, having fun, sporting gigantic eyeglasses and ridiculous (real) moustaches. I didn’t understand it at the time, but we were looking back at their memories. If I ever asked my Dad who a person was in a photo, he could tell me their name, what they were doing in that shot, and probably five other stories about that night. They looked so removed from their jobs and the identities we saw usually them it then; it was almost a struggle to recognise my Mom with her huge hair or my Dad with his black ringlets, as my parents.
When I was a kid, in Brownies, my parents sent me away to a weekend camp with a disposable camera. When the film was developed, it was less of me and my friends than expected, and more of the trees and scenery that had surrounded us. My parents had an old camera, a Canon AE-1. It belonged to my Dad, but unlike the filled photo albums they used to have, pictures became reserved for birthdays, holidays, and the dog. We got out of the habit of taking pictures, but the love I had of poring over images never left me. It's funny how the things you really want to do as a kid never really leave you. The first two things I wanted to be “when I grew up” were an artist (until I quickly realised my talents lie in colouring pages and not drawing them), or a wildlife photographer for National Geographic. I still want to be that when I grow up!
The travel bug hit me when I was 12, and if my parents wanted to raise a home-bird, they should have never have let me gone on that week-long trip to Quebec City. I respect the patience of our teachers, who piled fifty 12 year-olds onto a bus and drove them 10 hours from home. More than the history we were supposed to be learning, I remember the feeling of freedom. On one of the days, our teachers gave us an “Amazing Race-style” scavenger hunt and set us loose on the city for a few hours to explore, get lost, and riddle out the puzzles. That exhilaration of being in a new place just to see what it was like never left me. I felt it again the next year when they sent us to Ottawa, and then again, tripled when I visited New York City when I was 16.
At 18, I went on my first ‘big trip’ - two and a half weeks spent in Scotland, Ireland, and London with the Girl Guides of Canada. That was the real clincher for me and my love of travel. I planned to go away to school for two years, and then return to Scotland for a year.
Things never really work out quite like you’ve planned. I went to post-secondary school for four wonderful, fantastic, hilarious years and then ended up in Australia for another two. Still haven’t made it back to Scotland, but I’m not worried. I wouldn’t trade my time in college or in the Land Down Under for anything. Sometimes I wish I had just started backpacking at 18 like so many others, but then I think back on all the experiences I had instead over the past 6 years and have zero regrets.
Being in Australia changed who I am in subtle ways. It gave me a confidence I didn’t know I was missing, the voice to speak out when something was bothering me, and the patience to know that when everything is falling down around you, it is all falling into place.
After a year at home reconnecting with my roots, my family and friends, I’m in the process of fulfilling another dream: getting a van with a bed in the back and touring around New Zealand. Greater things are always to come, for me, and for you if you stick around. I hope you enjoy getting lost with me.