We are back from La Palma Island—one week earlier than planned. As Heraclitus put it: ‘The only constant in life is change.’ Autumn had been long. Too much work, too much admin, too little joy. I needed to get away, regain motivation, and clear my head before I could keep going. I tried to leave in December, but that was too crazy. So I planned January. At first I wanted three weeks somewhere far: South America, Mexico, South Africa, Southeast Asia… The options multiplied until I couldn’t choose at all—I kept switching frantically between forecasts, maps, and flight tabs. And then it clicked—like it always does—and I knew I had the right solution. I don’t want exotica. I don’t want decisions. I don’t want a daily puzzle of where we’ll sleep and what we’ll see next. I just want to switch off. I want mountains, simple movement, and thoughts that finally go quiet. La Gomera surfaced first, then La Palma: Canary Islands I hadn’t been to y...
We’ve just returned from the first real trip of the year. A real trip is one where the idea of working doesn’t even cross your mind—because you’re focused entirely on survival. Every step matters, you’re figuring out where to eat, where to pitch your tent, and whether the stream or lake water is warm enough to bathe in—or if you’ll have to settle for dousing yourself with a bottle. A real trip begins where the internet ends, where meals for the whole family are cooked over a gas cooker in one pot, where you sleep as long as the kids do, and where you forget the world—except for the one right around you. A lot of people are afraid of real trips. They’re not used to being alone with themselves, carrying their life on their backs, relying solely on their own ability to take care of themselves. Many people pretend they’re going on a trip, but can’t resist the pull of wifi, checking in with friends, a warm bed, or a three-course meal. They’re terrified of disconnectin...