The Wild Woman's Guide to Traveling the World

by Kristin Rockaway

  Out on the sidewalk, I asked, “Where are you staying?”

  “Just down the block.” He pointed to a brick town house on the other side of the street. Striped awnings shaded its first-floor windows, and barrels of pink peonies flanked its shiny red door. “It’s a little boutique hotel.”

  “No more hostels for you, then?”

  He chuckled. “You were right, the Grand Amadora may have spoiled me. I feel like I’m outgrowing that whole six-snoring-guys-to-a-room thing anyway. This place I’m at is really nice. All the best amenities. Private bathroom. Comfy king-sized bed.”

  I hooked a finger in the front pocket of his shorts and pulled him to my side. “I can’t wait to see it.”

  “Don’t you wanna go back to your apartment?” he asked.

  “Hell no. It’s always more fun to do it on a hotel bed.”

  His laughter echoed along the narrow side street and he curled his arm around my waist. With my face nuzzled against his chest, I said, “I was so afraid I’d never see you again.”

  He pressed his thumb under my chin and raised my eyes to meet his. “I said I’d follow you anywhere, Sophie. And I meant it.”

  I thought back to the idea that had come to me after my conversation with the Argentine backpackers. To take Sophie’s Spontaneous Tours on the road, leading fellow adventurers out to explore the unknown.

  “Would you follow me around the world?” I asked.

  Carson answered with a kiss. A kiss that said, I will follow you wherever you go.

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  Never before had I seen so many stars.

  I don’t know if it was the stillness of the summer evening, or the dry desert air, or the fact that we were seemingly hundreds of miles from anything resembling modern civilization. But the sky was so clear and expansive, I must’ve been able to see every single celestial body in the Southern Hemisphere. Whole galaxies appeared in majestic, milky swirls. It was the first time I’d ever actually witnessed a star twinkle. Childhood nursery rhymes were brought to life before my eyes here in the Australian Outback.

  “So, which one of these constellations is the Southern Cross?” I asked.

  Carson studied an astronomical chart using the dim glow of his headlamp. He kept turning it around in his hands, trying to line the image up with the real-life view on display through the skylight in our tent. I snuggled closer to him, resting my head in the crook of his armpit, thankful that I’d sprung for the two-person sleeping bag.

  “I’m not totally sure,” he said. “It’s too dark to make out the fine print.”

  “I should’ve installed that interactive sky map on my phone before we left Alice Springs.”

  Carson tossed the paper aside and clicked off his headlamp. “Who needs to know exactly what we’re looking at? Let’s just enjoy it for what it is: beautiful.”

  We lay there, side by side, nothing visible but the millions of stars sprayed across the sky. A dozen different night creatures clicked and croaked around us in the bush camp, making me happy to be safely zipped behind impenetrable canvas and nylon mesh. Carson’s body heat warmed me; I hadn’t expected it to be so chilly this evening, especially after hiking under the scorching sun all day. I stretched out my sore limbs, feeling the effects of our earlier trek through Kings Canyon. It was an arduous four-hour journey, but it had been worth the physical exertion to be able to perch on the edge of a cliff and watch the sunset bring the fiery red sands of the desert to life.

  “What time should we wake people up in the morning?” he asked.

  “No later than five.”

  “So early?”

  “Well, it takes four hours to drive to Uluru from here, and we want to get everyone there with plenty of time to walk around the park before the camel rides begin.”

  “What camel rides?”

  “I didn’t tell you? Nick and Ilene were talking all excitedly about this camel farm in Yulara. So I contacted the farm yesterday and set up a forty-five-minute camelback tour for tomorrow afternoon. When the rest of the group found out about it, they wanted in. I thought it sounded fun, too. So I booked ten tickets, for all of us.”

  “You’re such a good tour guide. Always giving people what they want, even at the spur of the moment.”

  I poked him in the side. “Hey, I’m not just a tour guide anymore. I’m also a certified international—”

  “Tour director. Yes, I know.” Carson kissed my shoulder and hugged me tight, one big strong arm wrapped around my torso. “How could I have forgotten? Those first sixteen days you spent away from me were torture.”

  I giggled, but in truth, those sixteen days in August were the exhilarating start of a whole new life for me. I’d spent them at the International Tour Management Institute in San Francisco, obtaining an official Tour Guide and Director Certification. Once I’d made the decision to take Sophie’s Spontaneous Tours on the road, I figured I’d attract more clients if I had some serious credentials. When I finished my training and added that little ITMI badge to my website, requests for more information on my services started pouring in. Since then, I’d led a group of travelers on a customized tour of Japan, from old-world Kyoto to trend-setting Tokyo, and I was in the process of organizing two more trips based on sample itineraries I’d posted on my blog; seems I’d finally get to behold the wonder of Machu Picchu at sunrise after all. Whenever I wasn’t traveling the world, I was still running my walking tours through the streets of New York City, which were now routinely selling out.

  Although Carson had promised to follow me anywhere, we both knew that wasn’t always feasible, especially after he enrolled in a design program at the School of Visual Arts. His specialization was creative advertising; all those flyers he created for my business sparked a fire within him, compelling him to use his art in ways he’d never before allowed himself to imagine. To be sure, he still sketched his heart out, filling notebooks with the wild and varied sights of New York. He even started a club at his school called “City Sketchers,” in which he and his fellow students gathered together in various public locations with their sketchbooks and pencils in hand. What’s more, he and Johnny were searching for gallery space to host their first joint exhibition: sketches and sculptures, side by side. He said he hadn’t felt so connected to a creative community since the days of his old high school art club.

  With all these changes, Carson was starting to feel like he’d found a purpose in his life. Goals to work toward, so he wasn’t floating around with no direction. While I led these international tours by myself, he stayed at home in New York, chasing his own dream, but cheering me on from the sidelines.

  This trip to Australia was special, though. Carson had postponed his original voyage down under to be with me, so I couldn’t very well plan a spectacular three-week excursion through Oz without him. Instead, I timed it to coincide with his winter break from classes, which started right after Thanksgiving. It turned out to be perfect timing, too, since I found a team of eight adventurous Americans who were interested in a tour through the region as well. This was my life now, combining work with pleasure. I was able to see the world, share it with other people, and make a living while I did it.

  There was one upcoming trip that I was planning for free, though. Right after the New Year, I was going to spend five days touring Miami, because Grandma had finally decided to take the plunge and visit her good friend Sadie. During a particularly cold early winter storm, Grandma had called me up asking for my advice in buying her a plane ticket down to Florida. I booked one for her, as well as one for myself, and then I spent a few hours designing an amazing itinerary for the both of us, intent on giving her an experience she would never forget. Maybe she’d like it so much, she’d consider moving down there herself. It seemed like a long shot, but I’d learned that the world is an uncertain, unpredictable place. Anything was possible, as far as I was concerned.

  “We should decorate our bedroom ceiling with those glow-in-the-dark star stickers,” Carson said. />
  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because they’re cheesy.”

  “Come on,” he said. “We keep saying we’re gonna fix up our place and then we never get around to it.”

  Carson had a point. We’d moved into our cheap one-bedroom in Queens almost two months earlier, but ever since, we’d both been too busy to spend time making the place feel like home. In fact, we still had several unpacked boxes piled up in our hall closet.

  “Wouldn’t it be great to re-create this view?” he continued. “We could fall asleep looking at these stars every night.”

  “I already like what I fall asleep to every night.” My hand squeezed his midsection and I nuzzled farther into his side, my nose grazing his chest. I kissed the branches of his tree and felt my skin tingle as he slid his fingers up the length of my body. When he buried his hand in my tangle of curls and pressed his lips firmly to mine, I reluctantly pulled away.

  “We shouldn’t do this here, out in the open,” I said.

  His voice was a deep, hungry growl. “There’s a reason I pitched our tent so far from the rest of the group. The closest camper is a good thirty feet away.”

  I lifted my head slightly to peer out the side of the tent. There was nothing beyond but blackness. No noises except for the continuous cacophony of desert wildlife.

  “Okay,” I said. “But keep your voice down.”

  He snickered and rolled on top of me. “Don’t worry, I won’t make a peep.”

  Our mouths met once again, and as I lost myself in his tender caresses, I couldn’t help but smile. Because I had it all. A fulfilling career. A passport full of stamps. An unwavering love.

  I couldn’t have planned it any better if I tried.

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, I owe a mountain of gratitude to my brilliant agent, Jennifer Johnson-Blalock. Thank you for plucking me out of the slush pile, for seeing promise in my words, for bringing out the best in me, for always being in my corner, and for encouraging me to drink that last mai tai. Thanks also to everyone at Liza Dawson Associates for being so supportive.

  My editor, Christina Boys, helped make this book better than I could have imagined. Thank you for your deep understanding of Sophie and her story, for your enthusiasm, for your insight, and for your guidance as I learned to navigate the world of publishing.

  Thanks to everyone at Center Street, especially Jody Waldrup and Diane Luger, for your beautiful design work and for being so accommodating. You’ve truly created the cover of my dreams. Also, a big note of appreciation to Carrie Andrews for her meticulous copyediting skills, and Bob Castillo for bringing it all together.

  Without my teachers, I would have never developed the skills necessary to finish an entire novel. Thanks to Shari Goldhagen, Michael Backus, Leigh Michaels, and the staff of Gotham Writers Workshop, for showing me how it’s done.

  Thanks to all my early readers and amazing friends who offered valuable feedback and endless encouragement: Jenn Amini, Mary Birnbaum, Margaret Chantung, Dora Fisher, and Emily Morton-Owens. An extra huge thanks to Eleanor Nystrom, for eagerly reading every single version of this manuscript ever written (and there were a lot). Also, a big shout-out to the members of RWA San Diego, for welcoming me with open arms and being such a helpful, kind community.

  Marci Blaszka and Jessica Schwarz have provided me with over two decades of unyielding moral support. Thank you for loving me enough to be honest with me and for cheering me on, no matter what. You’re the best friends a woman could ask for.

  Finally, thank you to Emilio, who believed in me from the moment I said, “So I signed up for this writing class.” Thanks for pushing me off the cliff so I could learn to fly. I love you and Andrew more than words can say.

  About the Author

  KRISTIN ROCKAWAY is a native New Yorker with an insatiable case of wanderlust. After working in the IT industry for far too many years, she traded the city for the surf and chased her dreams out to Southern California, where she spends her days happily writing stories instead of software. THE WILD WOMAN'S GUIDE TO TRAVELING THE WORLD is her first novel. When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her husband and son, and planning her next big vacation.

  Reading Group Guide

  1. In the opening scene, Sophie is abandoned by Elena on the first day of their girls’ trip. What would you have done if you were in Sophie’s shoes? Do you sympathize with Elena? Why or why not?

  2. Why is it so important for Sophie to always have a plan and a goal to work toward? Why does she abandon it so easily when she first meets Carson?

  3. Carson’s technophobia is rare in today’s world. How do you think this influenced his burgeoning relationship with Sophie? Do you think Sophie found his technophobia to be a strength or a flaw? Why?

  4. Sophie and Elena have been best friends since childhood. Why do you think their friendship has endured through so many years and so many changes in their lives? Do you have any friendships that have stood the test of time? If so, how are they similar to or different from Sophie and Elena’s friendship?

  5. In what ways does Sophie’s relationship with her grandmother push her to be better? In what ways does it hold her back?

  6. Discuss the significance of Sophie’s favorite book, The Wild Woman’s Guide to Traveling the World. What are some of the ways in which she identifies with it? How does it influence her throughout her life?

  7. Do you think Sophie would have stayed in her job at McKinley if she’d never met Carson? Would she have ever followed her dream of becoming a tour guide? Why or why not?

  8. How does Sophie’s practical, disciplined nature work to her advantage when she starts her new tour business? How does it work against her?

  9. Where do you see these characters in five years? Do you still see Sophie and Carson together? Is Sophie’s Spontaneous Tours still in business? Is Elena still a swinging single?

  10. Travel is Sophie’s biggest passion. Talk about some of your favorite travel experiences. Where are some places you dream about going but have yet to visit?

  Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.

  To receive special offers, bonus content, and news about our latest ebooks and apps, sign up for our newsletters.

  Sign Up

  Or visit us at hachettebookgroup.com/newsletters