The Woman Behind the Posts
In a nutshell...
My name is Constanza Fernández –although everyone calls me Coni.
I was born in Chile to a family shaped by immigration. My grandparents’ history of crossing borders taught me early on that travel is the best antidote against fear. I went on to study Law, work as a human rights adviser, earn a Master’s degree in International Relations, and teach law and politics at University –then traded the classroom for the road and became a travel writer.
These days I call Croatia home, but I try to travel as much as possible. I have a 201-experience bucket list as my compass, guiding my journey across every continent.
In Experiencing the Globe I write honest destination guides, sustainable travel inspiration essays, and geopolitical insights for curious minds who want to travel deeper. Because beyond the narratives that divide us, people are kind everywhere. And I want you to see it too.
Join the journey –and bring your curiosity.
Want to know a bit more?
My grandparents came from Spain, Romania and Germany –some in search of opportunity, others escaping a war that had made returning home impossible. All of them ended up in Chile, a country as remote as it is breathtaking. Their story of migration taught me early that borders are more arbitrary than we think, and that home is something you build, not something you’re simply born into.
To come full circle, I migrated too. Croatia, where my husband is from, is home to me too now. I’ve learnt to travel more intentionally and to appreciate being home more than I once did –but the pull of the road never really leaves. I travel as much as I can, and when I’m not, I’m already planning the next trip.
Travel has always been inseparable from politics in my mind. Growing up in a country shaped by dictatorship, exile and resilience, taught me that understanding a place means understanding its history, its wounds and the forces that shaped it. That’s what a background in human rights and international relations does to you –it makes you incapable of visiting somewhere without asking why it is the way it is. Why a city looks the way it looks. Why a border exists where it does. Why people carry pride or grief. I think that kind of curiosity makes for a more mindful traveler –and for a better writer.
The bucket list grew out of all of this. Not a checklist of famous landmarks, but a map of experiences that demand something of you –wonder, discomfort, humility, awe. Once-in-a-lifetime wildlife encounters: gorillas in Uganda, Komodo dragons in Indonesia, giant tortoises in the Galápagos, the Great Migration unfolding across the Serengeti. Ancient and otherworldly landscapes: the baobabs of Madagascar, the alien flora of Socotra Island, the monasteries of Bhutan perched at the edge of possibility. Places the news reduces to headlines but that deserve to be understood from the inside: North Korea, Turkmenistan, Libya, Syria, Afghanistan, Belarus. Encounters with people whose ways of life predate our modern world entirely: ancient tribes in Papua New Guinea and the Omo River region of Ethiopia, the Rapa Nui in Easter Island, the Māori in New Zealand. And a more personal quest woven through all of it: tracing my grandparents’ footsteps in the villages they left behind. Years of research, a lifetime of curiosity –and still so much left to go.
What ties all of it together –more than the places, more than the bucket list– is what happens in between. One of the most important parts of traveling, for me, has been unlearning. Questioning assumptions, listening more carefully, and staying open to the possibility that the people we meet might change the way we see the world –and even ourselves. Some of the conversations and encounters that stayed with me longest weren’t the ones that confirmed what I already believed, but the ones that challenged it. There’s something deeply valuable in letting ourselves be changed by the world instead of just passing through it. And I hope that at least some of what you read through Experiencing the Globe will answer questions you didn’t know you had –and will help you unlearn something.
The ‘why’ of my journey
I travel because in every corner of this world there’s something worth seeing, an adventure waiting to be had, and –most importantly– people whose stories deserve to be heard. Western media has us living in a bubble in which anyone different becomes a threat. These biases make us look at places with suspicion, and after hearing often enough how “they” are against “us,” we end up living in fear –fear of our own kind, because we might have different traditions and beliefs, but we are one human race. The world is full of strangers who could become friends, if we give them the chance. It’s not the scary place we’re led to believe.
I travel because I believe borders are among the most harmful constructs humanity ever invented, and we need to look past them –at people, not at political entities. We are separated by imaginary lines that tell us where we belong. Ethnic groups trapped in countries that don’t respect their worldview. Wars over territories inhabited by others for millennia. Bloodshed for a fraction more power. The arrogance of believing that one way of life is superior and must be exported, whether anyone asked for it or not. Choosing to cross those lines –to sit with people on the other side of whatever divide we’ve been handed– is not a neutral act. Traveling is as much a political act as marching for any cause.
I travel to debunk myths. To learn from every person who crosses my path. To see realities beyond the words used to describe them. I’ll admit I wasn’t always free of judgment myself –I used to think a tourist wasn’t a real traveler, that a short visit wasn’t enough to say you’d truly been somewhere. I’ve let that go. The fact that someone is traveling at all –investing whatever time they have in seeing more of the world– is already something. What matters is being curious, staying open and resisting the comfortable version of every place you visit.
I travel because this planet is the only home we have, and the more of it we see, the more we understand what’s worth protecting. Sustainability isn’t an add-on for me –it’s a responsibility that comes with the privilege of movement.
And I travel because the world keeps proving me right. People are kind everywhere. The evidence accumulates, trip by trip, conversation by conversation, and I find it impossible to stop collecting it.