The Follower's Story

I grew up in a small, picturesque Canadian town, cradled between rolling hills and a shimmering lake—a place where life followed a quiet, steady rhythm. With just 800 people, it was the kind of town where neighbours waved in passing, where every face was familiar, and where the seasons shaped the days. Winters blanketed the land in pristine snow, autumn painted the trees in fiery hues, and summer arrived with the laughter of cottagers. The people were kindhearted, their warmth mirroring the beauty of the nature that surrounded us. Life here was simple, predictable, safe—and there was great treasure in that.

But deep within me, there was a persistent call toward something beyond the boundaries of comfort and familiarity—a whisper of adventure tugging at my heart, calling my name. A decade later, as fate would have it, I found myself in Southeast Asia—and a new world cracked open before me. It was unlike anything I had ever known—lush, exotic, and steeped in traditions that stretched back centuries. There, I discovered a new way to connect with the universe, watching solemn processions of monks draped in flowing orange robes as they glided through temple courtyards. Their rhythmic steps, accompanied by hypnotic chants, carried the weight of ancient wisdom through the air. There, I discovered a new way to connect with the universe—watching solemn processions of monks draped in flowing orange robes as they glided through temple courtyards, their rhythmic steps echoing centuries of devotion. The air hummed with hypnotic chants, carrying the weight of ancient wisdom like incense drifting through time.There, I discovered a new way to connect with the universe—watching solemn processions of monks draped in flowing orange robes as they glided through temple courtyards, their rhythmic steps echoing centuries of devotion. The air hummed with hypnotic chants, carrying the weight of ancient wisdom like incense drifting through time. And it was there that I discovered Angkor Wat, where adventure unfolded like a centuries-old treasure hunt—a place of remnants, secrets, and stories waiting to be uncovered. Stepping into its sprawling ruins, I was transported back to childhood—straight into an Indiana Jones movie. Here, lost echoes of civilization lay hidden beneath jungle and time, with towering stone faces gazing out from moss-covered walls, twisting corridors leading to secret corners, and crevices whispering of forgotten legends and untold stories. These ruins did not simply exist—they beckoned, urging me to unlock their secrets, to listen, to learn.

And yet, despite this exhilarating invitation to dig deeper and to continue the adventure to uncover the secrets, a quiet unrest stirred within me— Now what could possibly pull my thoughts away from the incredible opportunity knocking at my door, you ask? I'll tell you what, uncertainty tangled with fear and doubt. Knawing questions: like, Should I really be doing this? Is this too frivolous? Is chasing adventures sustainable —Should I be more responsible and return home to —the steady job, the house, the routine? Well, my fears trumped my dreams and they found me back in Canada, settling into something that I believed was more realistic and stable. So I got a job, paid the bills, and followed the expected script that most of us have been conditioned to follow. But as the years passed, the whispers of forgotten legends and untold stories and call to adventure remained, and then I understood that travel needed to be woven into my everyday life. So, I struck a compromise with the conditioning—I would follow a familiar path in Canada while ensuring travel remained a part of my life. And so, the idea of opening a bed & breakfast was born, and for several years, I welcomed fellow travellers, listening to their tales of distant landscapes and cultures, and admiring the richness of their perspectives, shaped by foreign lands. In those moments, I traveled through them—immersing myself in their journeys and living vicariously through their experiences. It was a rekindling of my love for travel and a reignition of my wanderlust—a deepening pull toward the unknown, urging me to continue my adventure and seek out the places that had something to tell me.

The whispers grew louder, the pull stronger—with every passing guest, every story, every knock on the door stirring something deeper within me. Then, one day, as time and destiny grew restless, fate intervened once more. Another arrival at the door—but this time, it was no gentle knock accompanied by a suitcase and a smile. It was a wrecking ball—a force that no longer asked me to answer its call but demanded it. And within months, the future of the business and the long-term relationship were gone. Initially, it felt like a tragedy—a sudden loss that left me drowning in sadness and confusion. Yet, in the midst of the pain, a glimmer of hope surfaced—an opportunity to travel for a few months while my bed & breakfast waited for its new owners and I took a hiatus to heal. It was a chance not only to escape, but to find moments of renewal, happiness, and perhaps even a little adventure. And then, I would return to Canada and rebuild. But time and destiny had grown impatient, and fate had something far greater in store—transforming my three-month hiatus into an extraordinary seven-year journey, where the vast, beautiful world once again became my endless backyard playground.

With nothing but myself, a small backpack, and a modest budget—but a heart full of resilience and wonder—I navigated the world solo. Along the way, I found family, friends, and solace in strangers, reveling in spontaneous celebrations beneath new skies. It was here that I learned that having travelled on a budget was not a limitation but a hidden blessing, as it leading me to the most local, authentic encounters and unforgettable experiences. I was also here that I learned that a small backpack was all that was needed, as it carried the freedom to wander and the realization that what I truly needed wasn’t much at all—just a sense of adventure and the willingness to let the world guide me to the untamed landscapes and ancient ruins, right where she was meant to be.

And right then and there, with that recognition, fate and her next adventure conspired— .

I’m Bree, the follower (and predecessor) and this is how my journey began.

"The greatest adventure is what lies ahead. Today and tomorrow are yet to be said. The chances, the changes are all yours to make. The mold of your life is in your hands to break."

J.R.R Tolkien

The Flamingo's Story

This is Floyd (The Fabulous) Flamingo, and this is how his journey began.

In a sprawling, sun-drenched swamp, nestled among towering cypress and tangled mangroves, where molten gold waters reflect the sky’s warmth and the air carries the mingling scent of salt and fresh earth, Floyd spent his childhood years. His tight-knit flock of fifty-five had inhabited these wetlands for generations, moving through generations as a seamless collective, feeding in unison, sleeping in sync, and mirroring each other’s movements. And while Floyd understood the rhythm of the flock and recognized its purpose, it left his spirit unsettled. With each passing day, he felt a deepening urge—a restless pull in his gut, urging him to break free and forge his own identity.

A few sun-drenched seasons into his teenage years, fate led Floyd beyond the familiar shallows of his childhood swamp into a neighboring wetland—one alive with new knowledge, adventures, and new friendships just waiting to unfold. At first glance, it mirrored his home, but as he ventured deeper, its vibrant diversity became clear. Alligators lounged on muddy banks, frogs croaked from the reeds, and sandpipers darted gracefully along the shore. Excitement surged through him. Before long, Floyd befriended two remarkable companions—a wise turtle and a charismatic parrot. His boundless curiosity met eager storytelling, as they revealed the wonders of their species and shared the captivating tales in which their species starred. Floyd hung onto every word, captivated by the turtle’s ancient wisdom and the legendary tale of The Tortoise and the Hare. Meanwhile, the parrot dazzled him with the art of entertainment and play, weaving in the thrilling story of his great-uncle Poll’s adventure alongside Robinson Crusoe. And just like that, Floyd was enchanted—his world expanding with each tale, fact, and newfound understanding of the swamp and its inhabitants.

Floyd spent countless afternoons learning about parrots and turtles, fascinated by their ways. And when he returned to his home swamp, he was met not with resistance but with curiosity and intrigue—an eager audience waiting to hear about his adventures. This inspired him. Every evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, his fellow flamingos would gather around, eager for tales of the neighbouring swamp that he had learned from his new friends. Floyd shared fun facts—how turtles were ancient survivors, older than dinosaurs, and how they possessed an incredible superpower: Geomagnetic Navigation, using Earth’s magnetic field to travel vast distances. Of course, he never forgot to recount the heroic tale of The Tortoise and the Hare. He spoke of the parrots too—how they could talk like humans, how they turned foraging into a game of scavenger hunts, and how they didn’t just survive, they thrived, just like Poll had in Robinson Crusoe. The flamingos hung onto every word, captivated by Floyd’s stories. And Floyd? He loved entertaining them. His tales were engaging, his delivery effortless—drawing his audience in with every twist and turn. He had a natural gift for storytelling, a knack for capturing attention and bringing wonder to those who listened.

It wasn’t long before flamingos from other flocks gathered to hear Floyd’s tales. With each story and fun fact he shared, his gift for storytelling grew, and he discovered just how wonderfully he could bring words to life. He didn’t just tell stories—he immersed his listeners in vivid descriptions, rich details, and contagious enthusiasm, making them feel part of something bigger. As Floyd embraced his talent, he soon found himself entertaining the parrot and turtle too. Learning how they lived, he began to reflect on flamingos—and to share their quirks, humor, and fascinating ways with his friends. And before long, the parrot and turtle were joined by the alligators, frogs, and the sandpipers of the neighbouring swamp, all listening intently as Floyd spoke of his frivolously feathered, flash-mob flamingo flock. And with that, Floyd was fueled by the joy of bringing laughter, excitement, and connection to all those around him.

Throughout the year, Floyd continually made new friends, gathered fresh material, and honed his craft, becoming an increasingly brilliant performer. His reputation spread far and wide—his uncanny ability to recall and share fun facts, combined with his enthralling storytelling, made him a legend across the marshlands. Then, one fateful day, opportunity arrived—quite literally—at his swamp doorstep. A loud knock echoed through the reeds, carrying with it an offer he simply couldn’t resist: an invitation to tour. Floyd had been chosen to perform at luxury white sand beach resorts, where his audience would expand beyond the swamp dwellers to a dazzling crowd of playful dolphins, boisterous pelicans, and enthusiastic beachgoers. The transition was seamless. The crabs clacked their claws in applause, the pelicans threw their heads back in delight, and Floyd’s signature swamp humor—his quips about staying fabulous in muddy waters—resonated like never before. As the laughter rolled in like waves, his bit about swamp struggles became his defining routine, earning him the illustrious performer title: Floyd-The-Fabulous.

Audiences from distant shores arrived in droves to hear Floyd the Fabulous’ latest tale and witness the magic of a flamingo who refused to be ordinary. And Floyd embraced his new gig wholeheartedly, grateful to trade mosquito battles for tropical breezes and coconut-drink-sipping elegance. But beyond the glitz and glamour of the beach, what excited him most was the opportunity to unite creatures from different worlds—bridging the gap between swamp and shore through humor, storytelling, and shared experiences. With every performance, his mission became clearer: to spread fabulousness everywhere he went and to everyone he encountered—that was what he was meant to do.

And right then and there, with that recognition, fate and his next assignment appeared.

Follow That Flamingo's Story

Manifest tall dark and handsome and instead ended up will long, pink and quirky.

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Floyd, The Flamingo's Story

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Bree, The Follower's Story

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The Follower & The Flamingo

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"Flamingos do speak but only to those that know how to Listen"

A Listener