Meet Jo
I have never fitted neatly into the expected boxes.
As a child, I wandered into strangers’ tents on a beach in Torremolinos, curious about who they were and what stories they carried. I was an only child, happiest exploring.
At school I was always in trouble for talking too much. When careers day came and sensible jobs were discussed, working in a bank, following a neat and predictable path, I knew none of it was for me. Someone once suggested I’d make a good hotel manager, “you’d have more freedom,” they said.
Freedom. That word stayed with me.
In my twenties, I met Adrian.
We were happy, life felt steady. His death at 33 was traumatic and life-changing. Grief has a way of stripping everything back and asking what truly matters. One of the things I had planned was to learn to fly. I didn’t. I still carry that quiet yearning.
In my thirties, I chose to explore.
Over the next decade I travelled to more than sixty countries. I spent days travelling down the Sepik River in Papua New Guinea in a dugout canoe, sleeping in villages along the riverbanks. I dived untouched reefs, swam with hammerhead sharks, drove across a rickety bridge in Mozambique, followed an old-fashioned GPS deep into the bush in the dark.
It wasn’t recklessness.
It was curiosity.
It was aliveness.
Travel kept me sane.
Travel kept me becoming.
There’s a small lesson I learned along the way
Once, “we’re only popping out for coffee,” I said, leaving my heavy camera behind. But we didn’t just pop out. We wandered for miles. I remember every detail of that day because I didn’t have my camera.
These days, as a professional photographer, I’m the one carrying it. Not because we’re chasing perfect shots, but so you can stay present. Walk, talk, notice. I’ll hold some of the memories for you.
Eventually I realised it wasn’t about how far I travelled, but how deeply I experienced it.
Wild & Free Journeys grew naturally from that understanding.
Not from a business plan, but from years of conversations with strangers who became friends, from long roads and slow mornings, from choosing presence over pace.
I’m not interested in perfect travel. I’m interested in real experiences, shared laughter, quiet awe, and the kind of journeys that leave you feeling more like yourself.
If something in you feels that pull too, then you already know what I’m talking about. I wrote about it here: Travel That Brings You Back to Yourself →
I’d love to hear from you.
If this resonates with you, let’s find your journey
Or if you want to know more about how we travel: The Wild & Free Way →
Not ready to reach out? Download a free guide, full of the places that have stayed with me.