Readers never stop, they want to know where paradise is for a crook to live, they want poetic justice, and they will not stop asking, they have dreams.
Travel writing is a horrible thing, 99.5 percent of travel writers are probably used car salesmen or real estate agents on the side, maybe they work at the carnival, the chance of making an honest living is 1 in 200.
99.5 percent of travel writing is just an advertisement that last a long time to read, something to make you dream about the chocolate until you can taste it, then run to the nearest 7/11 to buy a piece of chocolate.
"No man is an Island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee."
- John Donne, Meditation XVII English clergyman & poet (1572 - 1631)
Dreaming about Deserted Romantic Islands is Good
I want people to dream about elsewhere, I want them to go further away, I want them to run until they find their poetic justice. I want them to do a geographical cure, and escape far enough, I want them to run until they give up and accept life on life's terms.
When they run far enough, they will find themselves, but not until they hit the wall, and go searching for a deserted island, tilting at windmills and find out most of the beautiful damsels in distress are expensive to maintain.
In a way, living on the cliché deserted island is the goal of travel, you need to become so uncomfortable, that you reach down into yourself and find a place of comfort to visit.
How long will I travel? I will travel until I know why I travel...