🌍 Matt’s Jet Ready Bucket List: Adventures That Still Call My Name

For me, travel has never been about ticking boxes — it’s about collecting moments. The kind that make you forget to check your phone, lose track of time, and suddenly realize you’re grinning at nothing but the world itself.

I’ve been lucky enough to see the northern lights dance above Norway, to glide silently through its fjords, to feel so small and so alive at the same time. But the beauty of travel is that some places never leave you — they keep whispering, “come back.”

So here it is: my personal, ever-evolving Jet Ready Bucket List — the journeys that shaped me, and the adventures still waiting to.

✨ 1. Chasing the Northern Lights — Again (Norway)

The first time I saw the northern lights, I didn’t even realize what I was seeing. A faint green ribbon appeared across the black sky, then slowly began to twist, shimmer, and grow — like the universe was breathing. I stood there, in the biting Arctic cold outside Tromsø, completely still.

It’s funny — once you’ve seen something that magical, you’d think that’s it, done, checked off the list. But not me. There’s something about Norway’s silence that makes the world feel wide open again.

I’d pack warmer gloves, bring better camera gear, and this time, Hot Chocolate. — something about that just feels right. Because even if I’ve already witnessed it once, I know the aurora never repeats itself. It’s like a promise that the sky will always have something new to show me.

🏞️ 2. Kayaking Through the Fjords (and Finding Stillness There Again)

The fjords were where I first understood what awe really means. The world goes quiet there — no hum of engines, no chatter, just the soft dip of your paddle in water as still as glass. Massive cliffs rise on either side like ancient guardians, and sometimes, if you’re lucky, you’ll see a waterfall spilling straight from a glacier.

The first time I paddled through Geirangerfjord, the fog hung low and everything looked dreamlike. My arms burned, my breath fogged in the air, but I couldn’t stop smiling. Every turn felt like a secret unfolding.

I’d do it again in a heartbeat — maybe slower this time. No rush, no schedule, just letting the rhythm of the water decide the pace. I’d stay in a small cabin by the shore, wake up before sunrise, and watch the light spill over the mountains. That kind of peace stays with you long after you’ve gone home.

🏝️ 3. Sleeping Over Water in the Maldives

If the fjords are about peace, the Maldives are about surrender — surrendering to pure, unapologetic beauty. I’ve always dreamed of waking up in an overwater bungalow, sliding open the doors, and seeing nothing but endless turquoise. The kind of view that makes you forget what day it is.

I imagine starting the morning with a brew on the deck, watching stingrays drift lazily beneath me, then diving straight into the water before breakfast arrives by boat. It’s indulgent, yes — but also deeply grounding. There’s something about being surrounded by nothing but ocean that resets your perspective.

When I go, I’ll visit in the quieter months — May through November — when the weather’s still warm but the crowds thin out. I want to snorkel at sunset, sleep with the windows open, and let the ocean soundtrack my dreams. Sometimes, paradise is worth leaning into.

🏔️ 4. Hiking to Machu Picchu at Sunrise

There’s a certain kind of satisfaction that only comes from earning a view — the kind where your legs ache, your lungs burn, and your heart races before it’s even had caffeine. That’s what draws me to Machu Picchu.

I want to climb through mist and ancient stone steps, feeling the weight of history with every breath. To reach the Sun Gate just as the first light breaks over the ruins — that moment when time stands still and everything you did to get there suddenly makes sense.

I’ve read about the Inca Trail and its challenges — the altitude, the exhaustion, the narrow paths that seem to stretch forever. But that’s exactly why it’s on my list. Some places aren’t meant to be easy; they’re meant to remind you what you’re capable of.

When I finally make it there, I’ll take it slow. No rush to finish — just gratitude for every step, every view, every breath of thin, sacred air.

🌆 5. Eating My Way Through a Night Market in Taipei

I’ve said it before: food is culture. And if that’s true, then Taipei’s night markets might just be the most delicious form of anthropology there is.

I can picture it now — the sizzling of woks, the chaos of neon lights, the smell of grilled squid and sweet pastries tangling together in the humid air. Locals chatting, scooters buzzing, steam rising from paper bowls. It’s a kind of beautiful chaos I crave.

When I go, I won’t make a list or follow a guide. I’ll wander. I’ll point, gesture, and eat whatever someone hands me. I’ll probably burn my tongue on the first bite — and I’ll definitely have no regrets.

Because travel isn’t just about what you see — it’s about what you taste, what you hear, what you feel pulsing around you. And I have a feeling Taipei will feed all of it.

🏜️ 6. Sleeping Under the Stars in the Sahara (Morocco)

There’s a kind of silence in the desert that feels sacred. Not the awkward kind you fill with words — but the kind that fills you. When I picture myself in the Sahara, I imagine stepping off a camel as the last bit of sunlight fades into gold, and the dunes turn the color of warm cinnamon.

At night, the stars arrive like a curtain being pulled back. There’s no light pollution, no noise, no distractions — just a thousand constellations staring back. I want to sit by a fire, share tea with Berber guides, and listen to stories that stretch farther than the horizon.

The Sahara, for me, represents perspective. It’s a reminder of how small we are, and how big the world can feel when you stop trying to control it. I’d trade a five-star hotel for a tent and a sky like that any day.

When I finally go, I’m bringing my notepad, not my phone. Because that’s the kind of place you write in by hand — slow, thoughtful, and grateful.

🧊 7. Exploring the Blue Ice Caves of Iceland

Iceland is one of those destinations that looks unreal even when you’re standing in it. I’ve seen the photos of those glowing blue ice tunnels — walls so clear they look like frozen glass — and every time, I feel that pull.

There’s something beautifully temporary about them. Each winter, the caves shift and reshape. They melt, reform, and disappear again. No two are ever the same — which makes seeing them a once-in-a-lifetime moment, no matter how many times you go.

I can imagine walking through one, hearing the distant drip of melting ice, feeling the cold radiate through my gloves, and realising this tunnel has existed for only a few months. That kind of fleeting beauty is why I travel.

I’d go between November and March, join a local guide, and let the landscape remind me that not everything in life needs to last forever to matter.

🍷 8. Sipping Wine in the Tuscan Hills (Italy)

Tuscany feels like it was designed to slow people down. I picture myself sitting on a terrace overlooking rolling vineyards, the sky painted in gold, a glass of Chianti in hand. No rush, no emails, no flight to catch — just a simple kind of happiness.

I’ve always loved cities, but there’s something about the Tuscan countryside that feels like medicine for a restless soul. The hum of cicadas, the smell of olive trees, the way the locals laugh with their whole bodies — it’s all warmth.

When I go, I want to stay in a small farmhouse instead of a hotel. I’ll help with the grape harvest, eat meals that last for hours, and maybe even learn how to make pasta from someone’s nonna. Because travel isn’t just about the views — it’s about connection. And Tuscany is the kind of place that reminds you how good life can be when you let it slow down.

🏖️ 9. Island Hopping Across Greece - Again

Greece has this ability to make time stand still. I imagine hopping between islands — Santorini for sunsets, Mykonos for late nights, Naxos for quiet mornings — each one a different rhythm, a different flavor of life.

I’d start on a cruise, leaning against the rail as the Aegean wind hits my face, watching whitewashed villages shimmer in the distance. I’d get lost in narrow alleys lined with bougainvillea, eat seafood caught hours before, and end every night with that impossible blue horizon etched in my mind.

I’ve learned that some trips aren’t meant to be planned in detail. I don’t want an itinerary — I want spontaneity. Maybe I’ll stay longer on one island than I planned. Maybe I’ll miss a ferry and find a hidden taverna because of it. That’s the point.

To me, Greece is about living in the moment — and that’s something every traveler should chase more often.

🦁 10. Going on Safari in Kenya

There are few things left in the world that truly humble you — but standing in front of a wild elephant might be one of them. I’ve dreamed of Kenya since I was a kid. The endless plains, the red sunsets, the sound of lions in the distance.

What I want most is to experience that raw, unfiltered connection to nature — to see animals the way they’re meant to be seen: wild and free. The Great Migration, where millions of wildebeest move across the Mara — it’s one of nature’s grandest shows, and I can only imagine how small it makes you feel in the best possible way.

I’d stay in a tented camp, wake up to the sounds of the savanna, and sip coffee as the sun rises over the grasslands. Maybe I’d even skip the camera sometimes — just to be fully present.

Because sometimes, the most unforgettable memories are the ones you don’t try to capture.

✈️ Why Jet Ready Ventures Exists — and Why It’s Your Ticket to the World