On May 30, 2012, Luna and I locked up our little Denver ranch house for the last time, boarded a plane, and made our way to Edinburgh, Scotland. The first stop on what would turn out to be an indefinite love affair with Europe.
Which means that today is our 10-year anniversary of leaving the US for a life of travel.
We’ve traveled fast, spending a few weeks or months in places like Germany’s Black Forest; Perugia, Italy; and Riga, Latvia. And we’ve had periods of slow love affairs with places on long-stay visas. The Swiss Alps. Estonia’s etherial bog landscape. And now, Portugal, where I hope we’ll be based for years to come.
Today, I simply wanted to pause and say I’m grateful for my past self. For the girl in her twenties, struggling with depression, who decided that if she had to be depressed, she’d rather do it on a cobbled Scottish lane, while cycling along a French river, as she crested the ridge on a difficult Alpine hike in central Switzerland.
Thank you, past me, for bringing me on this journey. And thank you to everyone who’s been along for the ride.
Here’s a look back: