There are the end-of-the-world places, the hard to reach, harder to leave places. The Key Wests, the Monteverdes, the Bhutans, the last stops at the end of the tracks, atop the cliff, by the surf.
These are the beyond places, the borderless and orderless places, where you’ll live in a trailer with no neighbor or in a cottage with an orchard of oranges.
Then, if you wonder and wander to these end-of-the-world places, you sojourn or settle. To lose the world and—perhaps—find yourself.