Travel thoughts

Vanlife sounds like sunsets, wide beaches, and freedom on four wheels.But sometimes another moment slips in: the body stops, strength collapses – and life in the motorhome becomes quiet. I experienced this in Spain. An unexpected clinic, a taxi instead of the motorhome, a night full of questions. For two weeks I could barely do anything, and when we continued driving, the exhaustion came back – this time in France. Emergency room, medication, keep rolling. It was a different

In the morning, when light spills through the van windows, the air smells of salt and coffee. Yasuo stretches, I open the door — and everything turns to gold. A moment that asks for nothing. Just to be. Here, on the Costa de la Luz, the sun feels different. Not louder, not brighter — but closer. It has a way of moving through the skin, into what we call the soul. And there, it starts to quietly dissolve the things we didn’t even know we were holding. I feel my body slowing do

Thoughts between the roads Sometimes I don’t write texts, but little postcards. To myself. To the one I was. To the one I’m still becoming. From places where I stop – for a breath, a thought, a piece of presence. They aren’t messages, not really. More like traces. Moments that insist on being written down because they need to go somewhere – not to an address, but into awareness. Postcard from the road without a destination There are paths that don’t lead anywhere — they just