What would you give up to chase a dream around the world? In A Continental Affliction, Brian Shannon trades stability for spontaneity, abandoning a corporate career, a forsaken relationship, and just about every comfort he knew. Armed with a backpack, (and later, a bicycle), a $10 per-day budget, and a round-the-world Pan Am ticket, he sets off to circumnavigate the globe in this pre-digital odyssey—with no GPS, no internet, and no clue what lies ahead. From Brazil's sun-drenched beaches to New Zealand's wild highlands, Africa's dusty trails to Europe's soaring Alps, Brian's "plan" unravels beautifully. Along the way, he stumbles into Carnival in the Amazon, narrowly avoids disaster on Ruta 40 in the Andes, crashes a wedding in France, and accidentally invents safari-by-bicycle. He faces culture shock, bicycle woes, language barriers, and the occasional existential crisis—plus an alarming number of hills that are definitely not on the map. Told with equal parts wit, humility, and disbelief at his own decisions, A Continental Affliction is part travel memoir, part coming-of-age, and part cautionary tale for anyone who thinks "winging it" is a solid life strategy. It captures a time when travel meant folding paper maps, getting lost on purpose, and striking up conversations with strangers because you had no choice. Whether you're a seasoned traveler, a committed armchair adventurer, or just someone wondering how badly a trip can go before it becomes a great story, well, this is your ticket. Spoiler: he makes it back. Mostly intact.