Find someone—a stranger in a bar, an elderly person in a park, someone at a hostel—and ask them about the trip they always wanted to take but never did. The place they dreamed of going when they were young. The adventure they planned but life got in the way. The journey they still think about sometimes. Then take that exact trip for them. Follow their imagined itinerary as closely as possible. Stay in the type of place they described. Do the things they said they would have done. See it through their eyes, their younger self’s eyes, the person they were before responsibilities and fear and time made the dream impossible. Document everything—photos, videos, journal entries, receipts, ticket stubs. Then return and give it all to them. Sit with them and tell them every detail. Show them the proof that their dream was real, that it existed, that someone lived it even if they couldn’t. Watch their face as they see the places they’ve only imagined. Some will cry. Some will be angry that you got to go and they didn’t. Some will thank you for closing a loop they didn’t know was still open. You’re not just traveling—you’re carrying someone else’s ghost of possibility into reality, proving that unlived lives have weight, that dreams deferred don’t just disappear but wait for someone to pick them up. This is travel as proxy living, as proof that we carry other people’s unlived futures inside us, as evidence that the most generous thing you can do is make someone else’s impossible dream briefly, beautifully real.