why I have a travel blog (even though I don't know what I'm doing)
- Bebhinn Flanagan
- Mar 29
- 3 min read
It started in Scotland.
Dad had just told us we were moving to Oman 🇴🇲. I had no idea what - or where - he was talking about. He had to get a map out (yes, this was pre-Google days) and physically point to this tiny country on the edge of the Arabian Peninsula.
It might as well have been the Moon.
What about my friends?
My school?
My life?
There were tears 😭. There were tantrums. There were so many questions.
But we went.
And everything changed.
what travel meant then vs. what it means now
Back then, my travel experiences were what you might expect for a kid growing up in the UK: a trip to Disney World 🐭, a caravan park in France. So when Dad told us we were moving to Oman, my younger self was terrified.
Turns out, this shift in my childhood wasn’t just about geography. It was about perspective. Being pulled out of everything familiar and dropped into something entirely new made me see just how much of the world I hadn’t yet experienced - and how much I still had to learn.
There wasn’t some dramatic, epiphany-filled moment. More like a quiet reshaping of how I saw the world, bit by bit.
The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page.
These days, I don’t travel to “find myself” (she’s already quite well-established, thank you very much). What I travel for is curiosity - those moments that expand my view of the world 🌍: when a place surprises me, when a stereotype unravels, when one conversation completely shifts a long-held belief.
Some days, travel is about marvels and museums. Other days, it’s street food, small talk, or an accidental train journey I didn’t quite plan for.
what this travel blog actually is
Yes - this is a travel blog.
Yes - you’ll get city guides, packing tips, and itineraries.
Yes - there’ll be lists like “10 Things to Do in…” and I’ll happily tell you how many countries I’ve been to (because, let’s face it, that’s fun).
But I’m also hoping it’ll be something more. Something real.
It’s where I unpack the moments that stick with me - the uncomfortable ones, the funny ones. Like the time I ended up in the wrong city in Vietnam at 5 a.m. Or when a very drunk man in Russia serenaded us with Irish rebel songs on an overnight train.
This blog is about the version of me I sometimes forget when I’m at home: the one who’s more honest, more fearless, and far more capable than I remember. She’s no longer that terrified little girl staring at a map, convinced Oman might as well have been the Moon 🌝.
Bear With Me is for those who want to bring home a fresh perspective instead of another souvenir (unless, of course, the souvenir is edible).
why you might want to stick around
If you travel to experience more than just sights - if you want to dive into the food, culture, and stories that make a place come alive - then you’ve found the right blog 👩🏻💻.
If you’ve ever booked a trip because a book, a film, or a spontaneous conversation sparked an idea - you’ll find a kindred spirit here 👋🏻.
And if you enjoy someone overextending bear metaphors, far past their expiration date - well, you’re absolutely in the right den 🐻.
Some posts will be practical.
Some will be absurd.
Some will read more like diary entries.
But they’ll all be real.
your turn
I’d love to hear from you: what’s one of your earliest memories of travel? Was it exciting, confusing, or totally life-changing - maybe all of the above?
Tell me in the comments! I’ll start: mine involves Shania Twain on repeat, a cramped camper van, and the endless road between Darwin and Adelaide 🎶.
Turas maith (safe travels),
Bebs
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