My name is Tom, and I write Silver Queer Travel Light — a travel blog
about independent travel, difficult places, long walks, cultural
encounters, and seeing the world with curiosity rather than comfort.
I live in Norway and have now been blogging for several years. I
usually publish one post each week, though I rarely write while I’m
actually travelling. For me, distance helps. While I’m on the road, I
mostly take photographs and notes. The writing comes later, once the
journey has had time to settle.
Travel has been an important part of my life for decades. Even though
I still work full-time in theatre, I try to visit several new
countries every year. I’m drawn to places that feel different from my
everyday life — places that challenge my assumptions, slow me down, or
simply make me pay closer attention.
The name Silver Queer Travel Light reflects both who I am and how I travel.
“Silver Queer” is fairly self-explanatory. I’m gay, though probably
not a very typical gay traveller. In recent years, several of my
journeys have taken me to countries where being openly gay is
difficult or even dangerous. Yet those places have also introduced me
to people of extraordinary warmth, humour, and resilience. Encounters
like that stay with me long after I return home.
“Travel Light” is both practical and philosophical. I almost always
travel with carry-on luggage only — usually a small backpack. I like
the freedom that comes with moving lightly: walking from stations
instead of taking taxis, adapting easily, carrying only what I
actually need. It simplifies travel, but it also changes how I
experience a place. Slower, closer, and with fewer layers between
myself and the world around me.
At the heart of this blog is a simple hope: to encourage more people
to travel independently. Solo travel can sometimes feel intimidating,
but for me it has been genuinely life-changing. It creates freedom,
confidence, and openness to unexpected experiences.
I began travelling in my early twenties, mostly around Europe and
North America. Later, relationships, work, and everyday life took up
more space, and travel gradually became less frequent. Then, after
becoming single again, I realised something important: the world was
still there, patiently waiting.
For nearly thirty years, I had dreamed of climbing Mount Kilimanjaro.
I kept waiting for someone to join me, and somehow the trip was always
postponed. Finally, at 55, I booked it alone and went.
Reaching Uhuru Peak at the beginning of 2019 became one of the most
meaningful experiences of my life — not simply because of the mountain
itself, but because I understood how much time I had lost waiting for
the “right moment” or the “right companion.” Since then, I’ve tried to
say yes more often.
I’m usually less interested in luxury than in ordinary life. Small
restaurants, local trains, conversations, theatre performances,
historic buildings, religious architecture, and the quiet rhythms of
everyday places often leave the strongest impressions on me. The
UNESCO World Heritage list frequently inspires my travels — not as a
checklist, but as a way of understanding what different cultures value
and choose to preserve.
Not all my journeys are solitary. Some trips involve organised tours,
especially longer hikes or destinations where local guides are
necessary. Travelling with others can bring its own kind of connection
and shared experience.
I work in theatre and love classical music, so culture naturally
becomes part of many of my travels. Opera houses, concert halls, and
local performances often stay in my memory just as vividly as
landscapes or famous landmarks.
If this blog encourages you to travel a little more openly, lightly,
or independently — then it has done what I hoped for.
