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It’s 6 pm and the sky turns to a deep dark blue, the air is thick and warm. We sit on a dock in Utila and browse the internet. Under us, black water laps hypnotically against the dock making us sleepy as if we’re babies in the cradle. Behind us,

Travelling long term, we need to take a break from the classic backpacking sometimes and stay somewhere for a little while longer. If only to get some words on the paper. We hadn’t had such a break since we became carpenters in Finca Ixobel in Poptún. When I read about

The long Nordic summer day slowly closes its curtains and we enjoy a sip of red wine from a cardboard cup, and a perfect sunset on the beach of Krapi – a lively duel between shades of orange and purple across the entire width of the sky, ending in the

1. The world is asleep It was 3.45 am. The world was dark and cold. Every single soul in Europe lied curled up under a fluffy blanket. But somewhere in rural Belgium, an alarm clock went off. It must be a bad dream, it cannot be morning yet- these were

On the beach of Pärnu, an arrow on a changing cabin points at Ainaži. 66 kilometres, it says. Latvia is less than 70 kilometres away. Not that the Estonians have such a passionate relationship with their neighbours. It’s one of a brief hello in the hallway – no more, no