Hey, I’m Andy.
Welcome to the blog the algorithm didn’t ask for.
I was born and raised in Bangkok — which means I grew up fluent in two things: traffic, and the art of finding a good meal at 11pm. It also means I grew up travelling. Every year, without fail, my family packed up and went somewhere. Nothing extravagant. Just enough to make me realise, somewhere around age nine, that the world outside Bangkok was unreasonably large and interesting.
That feeling never quite went away.
After university I left Bangkok, studied English, then kept going — all the way to a master’s degree in Boston. Seven years in the US. Long winters, great libraries, and an embarrassing amount of time spent figuring out how the T works. Eventually I moved back to Thailand, spent years in an office, then packed up again — this time to Canada. I’m now based in Nova Scotia, which turns out to be an excellent place from which to think seriously about where to go next.
Japan has also had a long-running place in my travel brain — I’ve been several times, most recently in late 2025 — and it’s shaped how I pay attention to food, cities, and the small logistical details that make a trip actually work. But the site’s practical focus right now is much closer to home.
So what is Off The Algorithm?
Here’s the honest version: it’s a travel blog. But one with a slightly specific obsession.
Most travel content gravitates toward the same handful of cities and the same handful of takes. And look — I get it. The algorithm rewards what people already search for. But the places that have stuck with me longest aren’t always the famous ones. They’re the smaller cities, the secondary stops, the destinations that don’t have their own hashtag yet — where you can actually wander without a queue, eat without a reservation, and feel like you stumbled onto something rather than booked it three months in advance.
That’s what this site is about. The alternatives. The places one step removed from the obvious. Destinations that reward the traveller who digs a little deeper — not because they’re secret, but because most people just don’t think to look.
What I’m focusing on now
Right now, Nova Scotia and Cape Breton are the core — partly because I live here, partly because they genuinely deserve more practical coverage than they get. From there, the rest of Atlantic Canada is the natural next layer: New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island, and Newfoundland and Labrador all make sense from here, both geographically and in terms of the kind of travel they reward.
I’m also writing about nearby northeastern routes where they connect naturally — coastal Maine especially, with room for New Hampshire and the occasional Boston-connected trip when the logic fits. Not every piece will stay in Atlantic Canada, but the practical, quieter-end-of-the-map logic stays consistent.
Why should you trust anything I write?
Fair question.
Most of the travel covered here is paid for out of pocket. If I ever receive media access, a hosted element, or anything that could affect reader trust, I’ll say so clearly. My opinions are mine — including the ones that aren’t entirely glowing. If somewhere is overpriced, awkward to get to, or genuinely not worth the effort, I’ll say so rather than bury it in paragraph seven.
Where I’ve been somewhere personally, I’ll write from that experience. Where I’m writing a logistics or planning guide for a route I haven’t done myself, I’ll be clear about that — using official sources for schedules, ferry rules, park access, border requirements, and prices rather than guessing. The distinction matters, and I won’t pretend otherwise.
What you’ll actually find here
Practical guides to Nova Scotia, Cape Breton, Atlantic Canada, and nearby northeastern routes. Where to stay, how to route a trip, what’s realistic in the time you have. Road trip logistics that account for actual driving distances, not just Google Maps optimism. Honest trade-offs on what’s worth the time, cost, and planning friction — and what you can safely skip.
Occasionally, a personal story from the road that I couldn’t quite leave out.
If you’re the kind of traveller who opens the map and looks slightly to the left of the obvious pin — you’re in the right place.