Welcome to My Travel Blog

Hi there! Thank you for being here, and welcome to my travel blog!
 I’m Cierra Long, a 24 year old girl who likes telling stories. I grew up in Felton, a small town tucked into the redwood forests of Santa Cruz County, California. My childhood was filled with ocean breezes, hiking trails, and secret swimming holes. That’s what I choose to remember, anyway.

One thing Felton did give me — besides beautiful memories — was the love of my life. Luka and I met in kindergarten but didn’t truly connect until senior year of high school. A few years later, we made the leap and moved to Eugene, Oregon in 2019.

There, we built a life together. We found work, made new friends, and created a home. After five years, we had everything we thought we wanted: a beautiful two-bedroom house with floor to ceiling windows, steady jobs, and a close knit circle of people we loved. But something was missing.

We had a dream, a big one. We wanted to see the world, meet new people, get lost, feel uncomfortable, and grow through it. Isn’t that what your twenties are for?

So we made a bold decision. We sold or gave away 95% of our belongings, packed only what we needed into Luka’s Kia Optima, turned in the keys to our home, and said goodbye to our life in Eugene.

That’s when our adventure began.

Our first destination was my hometown, Felton. We drove 10 hours straight and spent three weeks reconnecting with family and old friends. My favorite part? Time with my niece, Finley. She’s my favorite
human, and honestly, the only reason I’d ever consider moving back.

From Felton, we drove down to Ventura, California, to visit our friend Elliot. We spent the weekend boating, fishing, watching football, and catching up. Then it was on to Mesa, Arizona, where we visited my great-grandmother, grandma, and cousin Jocelyn. I’ve always been captivated by the desert — the red mountains, the towering cacti. I could drive through Arizona forever and never get tired of the views.

Next up: Kerrville, Texas. We stopped overnight in El Paso, then arrived the following afternoon. Luka’s aunt and uncle, Nancy and Kim, welcomed us with dinner at a local spot called The Ridge, where Luka’s dad, Bill, was playing guitar. I had my first country-fried steak (amazing), but the desserts stole the show — cookies, cakes, pastries, you name it. 

We’ve been adjusting to life here in Texas — going out to eat, catching Bill’s performances at local wineries, and exploring the area. One spontaneous night, we drove out to Bandera, known as the “Cowboy Capital of Texas.” Picture cowboy hats, sawdust-covered dance floors, live country music, and locals dancing the two-step. Luka and I did our best to keep up. Texas has a rhythm all its own.

A week later, we hit the road again — destination: Foley, Alabama, to spend Thanksgiving with Luka’s family. On the way, we stopped in Lake Charles, Louisiana, for two nights. We took a swamp walk, had a forgettable dinner of gumbo, visited a brewery, and explored downtown.

In Foley, we were greeted with warm weather and an even warmer welcome. Just 20 minutes after arriving, we went to watch the sunset on the beach. I had no idea Alabama had such beautiful beaches — soft white sand and clear water.

Thanksgiving Day was full of food and love. Luka’s Aunt Kathy made a stunning holiday spread, and yes, I took the traditional nap afterward. The next day, we went to a magical place called The Frog Pond, a live music venue on a big property with chandeliers hanging from oak trees and a stage under the stars. Guests brought food potluck-style, and there was even a tiny cottage just for desserts called The Sugar Shack. It was a dreamy mix of blues, country, and swampy southern soul.

From there, we drove to the place I was most excited to visit: New Orleans. We arrived in early December, which meant smaller crowds and perfect weather. We stayed in the French Quarter at the Andrew Jackson Hotel, dropped off our bags, and hit the streets.

Our first stop was Pat O’Brien’s for a classic Hurricane cocktail (rum, passionfruit juice, grenadine — dangerously good). Then it was Café Beignet for a Moscow Mule and shrimp and grits. We wandered through voodoo shops and slushie bars, finally stopping at Acme Oyster House for oyster shooters (a terrible idea) and charbroiled oysters (a great one).

Dinner at Coop’s Place was the star of the night: gumbo, Cajun fried chicken, shrimp creole, red beans and rice, rabbit and sausage jambalaya. Every bite was rich and spicy and perfect.

We capped off the night with live jazz at Fritzel’s, a tiny, glowing bar filled with yellow string lights and the raspy voice of a Louis Armstrong soundalike. We also ducked into Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop, one of the oldest bars in the country, lit only by a fireplace and twinkle lights. That night, we stumbled back to the hotel full, happy, and a little tipsy.

The next morning... let’s just say I was not at my best. But we had an 11-hour drive back to Kerrville, so I curled up in the backseat with a blanket, a pillow, and a new book. Somewhere along the way, we stopped at Buc-ee’s (the world’s best gas station), where I stocked up on more food than one human should reasonably eat.

What’s Next?

Since returning to Kerrville, we’ve been laying low, eating good food, seeing live music, and preparing for our next big move: Thailand. Our itinerary starts with two nights in Bangkok, a few days in Jomtien, and then we’ll island hop to Koh Chang and Koh Kood. After that? The road (or sea) will decide.

We’ll spend Christmas here in Texas with a cozy breakfast, a small gift exchange, and a traditional viewing of Elf.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for being part of the journey.
 More soon.