Greg
SKIP TO THE BEST BITS ABOUT GREG WITH THESE LINKS.
BRIEF INTRO • EARLY YEARS • YOUNG ADULTHOOD • DREAM WAS ON • THE HURT • BIRTH OF FAR OUT TRAVEL
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"Be yourself; everyone else is already taken."
- Oscar Wilde
Cheers for that one, Oscar. I'll do my best, even though most of the advice, as proven in the About Far Out Travel page, I've had has sounded more like "Don't be yourself, you're a twat."
Anyhoo, here goes...
A Brief Intro into the World of Greg
Hi, Greg here.
Honestly, I'm not expecting anyone to read this. Who really cares or wants to know more about me? It could be a bit embarrassing, but thanks for checking me out.
My adventure started waaaay back in August 1986, in Bristol, England, where I gracefully entered the world with a bang. I didn't fall out, it's just a phrase.
Now, in 2026, having just had my first child and closing in on my 40th birthday, I can tell you life has been a blast.
I have travelled the globe and encountered some of the most majestic wildlife, landscapes, people and cultures. There have been hilarious stories, most of which I couldn't begin to tell through fear of incriminating myself.
Yet my story has no last paragraph. It is not at its endpoint. There is no known final chapter.
However, when that time comes, I want to be able to hand my journal to my grandchildren, look them in the eye, smile, and say, "beat that."
Truthfully, I already know it will be a better ending than Game of Thrones.
Greg - The Early Years
As a kid, I grew up in a typical English family, never venturing abroad too often. We were never rich, nor did we have extravagant lifestyles. But what we did have was a loving family.
Generally, holidays consisted of chilling with my sister, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and parents. Usually, this involved the quaint coastal town of Padstow in Cornwall, England.
You will still find my family camping there each summer. Occassionally, I still get down there to join them too.
Although we did manage a few excursions abroad as a family, with memorable trips around Ireland, Northern France, and one entertaining trip to the theme parks of Florida. These, however, were a rare occurrence.
Young Adulthood
As a teenager, I worked hard, saving every pound in the hope that one day I could afford to travel the world. Ideally, somehow, also be rich enough to never worry about where the travel funds would come from.
In my late teens and early twenties, I got a full-time job working with many older people, boring them with my dreams of Far Out Travels. Every single time I received the same mutters of, “I wish I had gone here”, “I wish I could see that”, or “I would have loved to have done that”.
That bothered me greatly: Hundreds of dreams with adventures in their hearts, yet no one did anything to achieve these dreams.
As a result, I promised myself that that would not be me.
By the time I reached the grand age of 22, I had saved up a substantial sum of money and was planning a world tour with my cousin. All of a sudden, the housing market in the UK took a nosedive. Prices were slashed to levels lower than anyone had predicted.
Our sensible heads kicked in, and all that money we had saved for a trip of a lifetime vanished into the property market.
I panicked. Would I become one of them? Someone who said, “I wish I had done that”. My dream was hanging by a thread.
The Dream was on
After a couple of cold years debating whether we pay for heating or food and a distinct lack of holidays, we managed to save up.
And, with the possibility of renting out the house, the dream was alive!!!
Instantly, we planned what we thought would be a once-in-a-lifetime tour through the backpacker routes of Thailand, Bali and Australia, with a final blowout in Hawaii, LA and San Francisco.
With the flights booked and a dream now a reality, we set off for warmer climes with our mate Craig, who made a last-minute decision to join us for a couple of months.
We smashed up Thailand for a month before spending a year driving the circumference of Australia in a campervan.
Having only dreamed of such a destination, I had a brief fling with Indonesia, meeting some of the most amazing people. Little did I know that four years later, I'd be living there.
Having failed to meet an Aussie chick, I left Australia kicking and screaming. However, I was on my way to Hawaii. Soooooooo...
Other highlights soon followed as I flew over Hawaii in a helicopter and met several Pearl Harbour veterans.
After Hawaii, I spent some time in California and even managed to squeeze in an NFL game in San Francisco. Come on 49ers...
Ultimately, I had the best 14 months of my life, and no one could take that away from me.
More importantly, I would never be one of those office dwellers who would say, "I wish I had" or "I'd love to do that".
The Hurt
We returned to the UK with a bang, shocking the family on Christmas Eve with this Surprise. Whilst it was incredible seeing my friends and family, I had an itch, a burning desire, to be back on the road.
No matter how hard I scratched it, I couldn’t shake it. It wouldn’t go.
As a result, work became mundane, boring, and somewhere I hated.
Generally, life sucked.
I tried to keep the dream alive by chatting with people I had met on my travels. I visited some and hosted others, but it wasn’t the same.
No travel bloggers tell you of the return, the loneliness, the sadness, the depression. It hurts, and it hurts badly. If at any point you feel like this, get professional help. Likewise, drop me a DM on Insta, and talk it over.
Hence, my favourite blog isn't a travel blog.
In fact, it's the most honest blog I've ever written. It's a blog about the truth - The Hurt of Returning from Paradise.
Because normal life kicks in, and you rejoin the rat race with a couple of holidays a year.
There had to be another way.
The Birth of Far Out
In 2014, during my tour of Australia, I came up with the idea of creating a travel blog. It had all the appeal and no downside. I mean, you get paid to travel. What can beat that?
In truth, I cannot remember where I was in Australia, but I kept hearing the phrase "far out". It suddenly hit me - the blog will be called Far Out Travel.
A few years later, back in the UK, I met Charlie, who would go on to describe me as Greg, the 'grumpy fucker' over there.
After boring him to death with my stories, he could see why I was so grumpy at work.
Having spent countless shifts with Charlie, I could see he had something inside that I recognised. It was a dream of living a better life than the typical nine-to-five. Without telling me, I knew he wanted to see the world.
It was then that I could see the dream kicking in.
Not only did we get on, but we worked well together, and more importantly, we both had completely different skills: skills that complemented each other.
Then, in 2017, Far Out Travel became a reality.
After a Christmas Markets trip to Berlin with our mate Beth, Far Out Travel was born.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Also, my journal was being added to, and the grandchildren's challenge looked much more daunting.
So please enjoy my dream, our travels... I bring you Far Out Travel.
