Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars. – Les Brown
I started the year looking at the ocean in Lima, Peru. I drank the delicious pisco sour and took the crazy small buses (you never really know where they are going anyway), starting my first encounter with South America. Short after I boarded on my adventure with Ecuador, where I was working as a volunteer in a small school in the slum in Guayaquil. It was a very intense time, lots of input, lots of lessons learned.
Two months passed faster than I thought and after leaving Galapagos and waving goodbye to the sweet, peaceful turtles, I left for Barcelona. Coming back to Spain, being welcomed, as always, with sunshine. I took 4 months to explore this amazing city which never sleeps, danced a lot of salsa and learned that working half-time is absolutely wonderful and more than enough. To finish this adventure, I walked my third Camino de Santiago, this time along the Portuguese Coast. Portugal is one of my favourite countries, still quite cheap and with amazing people living under the glorious sun. I made a quick stop in Mallorca, jumped into the sea for the last time this year and took a plane to Berlin.
Holding only a suitcase in my hand and questions in my head, I started a full-time job and the master thesis project in the capital of Germany. Berlin has not changed at all — it was still crazy, full of art and greenness and I felt very comfortable in the hippie environment of shabby basement poetry slams which I could finish on the shiny Latin salsa dance floor. In Berlin I worked a lot, read a lot and wrote as much as possible. I learned that full-time job is stealing all of your available time and that I need a break from technology and business and you know, office work in the traditional sense in general.
Somehow the December surprised me with a horrible weather and cold but didn’t prevent me from handing in my thesis, closing the Mannheim chapter for good, packing my stuff again and taking off to Poland for Christmas. I didn’t expect it to be so hard to leave Berlin. I must admit I have found so many wonderful humans there, that I felt heavy as a stone waving goodbye to all of them again.
I wanted 2017 to be very different from 2016 and it was very different indeed. Turbulent, fast-paced, mind-blowing, perspective-changing. Peru, Ecuador, Barcelona, Portugal, Mallorca, Berlin, Krakow and finally finishing the last day of the year on the beach in Tulum, Mexico. As always, I am entering the new year with high hopes, and this time also with a light sunburn. It seems like a fair combination to me.
2018 will bring new things and it will bring old things in a new frame as well. I will be landing safe and sound on the Spanish ground, following my intuition more than any other rational argumentation. Coming back to Madrid, the city that I love more than any other. I feel a bit anxious and uncertain while I am already smelling the freshness of Retiro’s mornings and feeling the lightness of Sundays in Lavapies. Dear Madrid, I can’t wait to walk along Castellana, stealing as much sunshine as I can take from you, drink my huge café con leche when you wake up slowly and come back home after you forgot to get to sleep on time. I have said it once: There is nothing like Madrid. I still believe it to be true.
I left behind some of the things I thought were appropriate for me, such as technology and business innovation, and start-up world and fancy open space offices. I wouldn’t say it’s not appropriate anymore, but I surely need a break. I need a breath.
I long for something greater. I long for more art in my life. I need more time to develop my own artistic side, I need more time to tell stories, write stories, act stories. I want to learn, explore and grow every day. Dear 2018, please give me the ability to listen to the wise people and the patience to wait for them to speak. Teach me to accept the things I cannot change and to fight for those I can.
Hello 2018, hello Tulum, there’s no place I’d rather be! This year I am going to live it all and write it all down. An aria for a carrot, a requiem to an empty train station, a hymn to the Mexican coast.