I was six months old when I first traveled. My father carried me through the Himalayas in a backpack-baby carrier, and though I can’t remember those mountains, they’re etched in me somewhere.
Growing up, travel wasn’t a choice — it was a way of life. Europe, Australia, New Zealand, Egypt, Israel, Canada, Mexico. We traveled across continents, making friends from around the world. I learned that connection doesn’t require a shared language, just curiosity.
But it wasn’t until college that I chose my own first trip.
I can’t explain what drew me to Mali. There was a pull — something I still can’t put into words, even now. But to this day, when I think about what we did there, it brings a flash of excitement.
Five 20-something year olds from UT Austin, part of a public health student organization, decided to bring healthcare education to deaf schools in a country we barely knew. It was audacious. And, yet, we achieved all the goals our little charter set out to do.
That pull never left me. It evolved.
Years later, when Rachit and I began building Palanquin, I thought I’d be the one behind the scenes — managing the logistics, the legal work, the details that hold everything together. But something unexpected happened. As I worked alongside our guides, our drivers, our artisans and partners, I found myself getting pulled into the wonder of travel yet again.
Their stories became part of our story. Their families became part of our journey.
I’ve now traveled to 40 countries and we have operated trips in 38. And with each one, I’ve learned the same thing Mali taught me: that the world opens up when you approach it with genuine curiosity. Not as a checklist. Not as a business transaction. But as a conversation.
Now, when I’m working on the countless details that make a journey seamless — the reservations, the logistics, the relationships with our partners — I’m thinking about something simple: How do we create space for our guests to experience that wonder? That inexplicable draw toward connection. That trust in something you can’t quite explain.
That’s what drives the work now. Not perfection. But intention.
Because Palanquin was never meant to be just a business. It was meant to be an extension of how we already live — with curiosity, with openness, with the belief that the world becomes richer when you let it surprise you.