A Guide to Wanderlust

Funding Your Adventure  – Perhaps your dad is sick of looking at your spoiled face, or perhaps you hit someone in your car and need to lay low for a few months. Either way, the cornerstone to wanderlusting is hitting up your folks for the funds but acting like you achieved your #goal through hard work and sacrifice. You massive wanker you. 

As you will find out, travel is expensive and at some stage daddy may even cut you off. Do not panic, simply start up a GoFundMe account and say you’re pursuing a dream of taking photos or your shit got stolen. That’s the wanderlust way. 

Departure Etiquette – No one really knows why, but it is for some reason essential you take a photo of your boarding pass & passport at the airport. Who knows, maybe some of your followers need a little refresher on the basics of international travel? 

The photo is not enough however. You must accompany said photo with a spiel about how#blessed you are and throw in an #inspiring travel quote like not all who wander are cunts. 

Reflective Wank On Your Travel Blog – you are not like the other bogan travellers, you are a deeply spiritual, deeply charitable human. Accordingly, an important step on your journey around the third world is to exploit the local street urchins! 

Take a photo with “your new friends” and write about how getting to know them (for the time it took to take a photo that made you look hot) changed your perspective and all that kind of bullshit. Remember, a charitable act undocumented is a charitable act wasted when you are wanderlusting. 

Sightseeing – You are not wanderlusting unless you smugly tell everyone that you are doing some “real travel” and not just the touristy shit like every other Lonely Planet-peasant you meet.

You know like a guided tour into a Brazilian favela that everyone does. Or a trip to Auschwitz to reflect of inhumanity and get that revered gas chamber selfie. 

Emotional Meltdown – at some point shit will get real. Literally. You will have to use a non-traditional toilet after a heavy night on the party drugs with the lingering unease about letting that French cocksman butter his baguette all over your bread-basket. 

Your eventual mental breakdown and retreat to an expensive 5 star hotel will probably never make it to Instagram, but don’t worry, everyone knows you’re not Cuntmen Sandiego, it’s just that polite society dictates we don’t call you out on this self indulgent fuckery.