Strange beds, one good adventure a day, sunsets you don't have to rush. We build trips that turn into years you can name.
It's past midnight and I'm comparing two ferry timetables for a trip that isn't even mine. One ferry is forty minutes faster. The other leaves at dawn and catches the islands waking up. I've been at this for an hour. The dawn ferry wins. The dawn ferry always wins.
That's the kind of person you're dealing with. Hello — I'm Nakul.
I started Travalong Journeys in 2015 because all of this — the maps, the timetables, the absurd joy of finding a route nobody else bothers to find — refused to stay a hobby.
My lens is simple: a trip is everything that happens between a strange bed and a good sunset. Wake up somewhere worth opening your eyes for — a treehouse, a riad, a tent doing a very convincing impression of a five-star hotel. Spend the day on something you'll exaggerate for years — walking on a glacier, drifting over a valley, jumping off things. (Safely. Mostly.) Then end it where the sky shows off — a dune, a ferry deck, a rooftop still warm from the afternoon. Museums, monuments, long lunches? Absolutely, if they're your thing — it's your trip, your ingredients. But strange bed, one good adventure, a sunset you didn't have to rush: that's the skeleton I build everything on.
What I won't build is the other thing — eight countries in nine days, waving at Europe through a bus window. That's not a journey. That's a delivery route, and you're the parcel.
People ask me my favourite trip and I honestly can't answer. The trips have melted into moments, and the moments have melted into me. But ask me about any year of my life, and I'll answer with a place. 2015 is a bridge in Prague at 5:40 in the morning.
That's what a good trip does. It doesn't stay a holiday. It becomes how you remember your own life.
So that's what I build now, for anyone who asks: trips that turn into years you can name.
P.S. — The email at the bottom is really mine. Tell me which year you're trying to make memorable.
Five years, pre-named and ready to wear. Fixed dates, small groups, all the thinking done. Pick one off the rack.
The truthful version, with the boring bits left in.
"Beach, but not boring. Culture, but no museums. Mom's vegetarian. Budget is… reasonable." We've heard it all — and we write down every word.
An actual route, by hand, in 48 hours. Dotted lines, a circled lunch spot, and one detour we will defend with our lives.
v1. v2. v4-FINAL. v7-FINAL-final. Good — that's the process working. We redraw until it's yours, not ours.
The room with the view they promised. The driver who arrives early. The table that doesn't exist online. This is the boring part. We love the boring part.
One WhatsApp away, the whole time. Your guide knows. We know. The chai-wala somehow also knows. You'll never feel it — until you need it.
"No charge until the route makes you grin. That's the whole pitch."
Start your sketch →Eight starting points. Open one — then we bend it around your dates, your people, your appetite.
01
Maldives & Sri Lanka
02
Bangkok Food Trail
03
Croatia by Sail
04
A Week in Bali
05
Sri Lanka Trail
06
Tokyo to Kyoto
07
Medina & Mountains
08
Vietnam, Coast to Country
"We have done guided trips before. This was the first one where we forgot it was one. Felt like travelling with a friend who knows everyone."
"I told them: no temples, no museums, just food. They built an entire trip around it. Every meal was a discovery."
"My parents are in their sixties. Nakul designed something slow, comfortable, but never boring. They came back glowing."
"They put us with a family in a kasbah. Two nights I'll think about for the rest of my life."
"The aurora was the smallest part. The sauna in the snow, the husky guide who'd lived there forty years — those are what we still talk about."
"Three generations of us. Singapore for the kids, Samui for the grandparents, Travalong managed the seam. We didn't argue once."
A few honest blanks. Fill them in badly — fixing them together is the fun part. Hand-drawn itinerary back in 48 hours; no charge until you say yes.