A year of leaving, of unlearning, of catching up on a decade of sleep and a decade of unfinished inner work. Salads, surfing, silence — and a whole lot of olive oil.
After a proper burnout I decided I wouldn't rush back into a job. There wasn't enough energy to organise anything — visas, plans, blablabla. So I drifted toward Portugal, with a hint and a contact from a close friend, and a ride down in a van.
Ten months under one star: leaving old selves behind, opening to new ones. It condensed into three things —
- a new language (Portuguese)
- a new sport (surfing)
- a new craft (building wooden surfboards)
I used to tell people I caught up on ten years of missing sleep and ten years of unresolved emotional and psychical processes. Salads, surfing, meditation. And — adding up the bills — 32 litres of olive oil. Seriously.
