Writing this, I’m in the air, crossing the ocean for the third time in three weeks. When I travel, it’s usually about chasing adventure, exploring new places and cultures, meeting people… These past few weeks were a little different, which is why I didn’t write. While I visited more countries than I did in the months before, this month weren’t wasn’t about ticking places off a list – it was about finding clarity.
I spent my time traveling not to see cities or countries, but to figure out some personal things. It wasn’t the kind of traveling I write about, and I didn’t want this blog to turn into a diary. But now, I’m ready to return—not just to writing, but to the kind of exploring that makes me feel alive.
However, I do want to give a little update of where I have been, and will also post some photos of these places soon.
After Christmas in Belgium, I flew back to Lisbon with Alexa, but we didn’t stay in the capital for long. Instead, we packed up the car and drove an hour south to São Martinho do Porto, a small coastal town where Alexa’s family has a beach house. The pace was slower, the streets quieter, and the salty ocean breeze carried a kind of stillness that felt like exactly what I needed.
Although the weather wasn’t great – gray skies and chilly winds replacing the sunshine we’d hoped for—the town had a charm of its own. Mornings were spent in front of the tv, wrapped in blankets. In the afternoons, we wandered along the nearly empty beach, or took the car to Nazaré to see the waves crashing onto the shore.
On the 17th, I flew to Dublin, wheren I spent one night in a hostel, but was later invited into the home of a friend I’d met at Roskilde Festival last summer. Dublin wasn’t originally on my itinerary, but with my final destination so far away—and flights so expensive—I decided a long layover was the perfect excuse to make the most of the journey. I was overcome with a sudden interest in Irish history, so I visited the GPO museum where I learned about the 1916 Easter Rising.
While the museum was interesting, I found myself a private history teacher and guide: Sean, the friend who invited me in his home, filled hours telling me about Irish tales and history. The family was extremely welcoming – from the moment I arrived, Sean’s mom made me feel completely at home, always making sure I was well-fed and never letting my tea cup sit empty for long.
On my third day in Dublin, I went to the National gallery, as Sean had suggested me. Entrance was free and the museum was filled with art from every time period. I spent several hours inside, but certainly missed a couple of sections. In the afternoon, Sean, his parents and I went to watch the youngest brother’s rugby game. He was injured at the time so couldn’t play, but we cheered for the rest of the team nevertheless. Even though I don’t know anything about rugby, I got caught up in the excitement, and it was fun to be part of something so local. Sean tried explaining some of the basics and I had my phone open on a website with important terminology and what it meant.
The next day, we took a trip to Newgrange, one of the oldest passage tombs in the world. It’s over 5,000 years old, older than the pyramids, and still standing strong. While the tomb is 85 meters in diameter and 13 meters high (which I think is pretty big), the inside part was tiny. It barely fit our group of seven and my 1,68-meter height didn’t fit the passageway without bending my head.
Afterward, we visited Glasnevin Cemetery, where so much of Ireland’s history is buried. O’Connell’s tower loomed over everything, and we climbed up for the view before walking through the rows of graves, searching for familiar, historic names. There was also an exhibition about the people buried there, and we ended up spending way longer than expected.
Finally, it was time to continue my journey to what some call “the land of the free” (although that’s a little controversial now). I had a two-hour layover in Iceland, where I definitely want to go back to actually see the country, and then flew six hours to Washington DC. Very unexpectedly, security and customs were so easy, and they never even checked my Visa (waste of money). At the airport, my friend and her mom picked me up. I met Gabby in Copenhagen when we were both doing our exchange years. She had been begging me to visit her in the States ever since we met, and because we hadn’t seen each other for eight months, I finally decided to give in.
Her mom has a house in DC, so that’s where we stayed the first night. The day after, we visited the National Air and Space Museum, and then we drove four hours to Blacksburg, a cozy college town. The drive there was very peaceful and I found myself zoning out, staring at the horizon in front of me. Once we left the highway, the roads stretched out empty before us, and I loved staring at the smooth gray pavement with the endless yellow line in the middle, guiding my gaze towards the mesmerizing landscape unfolding like a moving painting.
Once we arrived in Blacksburg, we unloaded the car and headed straight out for dinner at El Rodeo. That night, I had my first real experience with American tipping culture. Of course, I knew about it, but when the server returned with my card, a receipt, and a pen, I was completely confused. It took me a moment to figure out what I was supposed to do, and I quickly realized that if I ever ended up living here, I’d probably go bankrupt. This one time a couple of days later, I went to a coffee shop when Gabby had class and the girl at the register was so nice to me that I casually tipped two dollars on a three dollar tea.
On our first night in Blacksburg, Gabby introduced me to her friends at Virginia Tech. We went to a bar, but we didn’t stay long – Gabby was exhausted from the drive, and jet lag was starting to catch up with me. The place was packed with American college students, and while I’d expected it to feel somewhat like the student bars back home in Belgium, it was completely different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why, but something about it made me feel out of place.
My plan to escape to warmer countries got delayed. Instead, I found myself braving a harsh American winter. On the worst day, it dropped to -16°C, a temperature I don’t think I’d ever experienced before. With the weather limiting what we could do, we spent a lot of time driving around, admiring the snowy landscapes from the warmth of the car. I also took the opportunity to try multiple American fast food chains (I kind of had to, right?). But what I was most excited about was visiting Walmart and Target. The moment we walked in, I felt like Alice in Wonderland – I had entered a fantasy world where nothing was impossible.
I didn’t stay long – my body isn’t made for cold like that, so I decided to completely switch it up and fly to the land down under. I left the United States on Sunday and after three flights, thirty hours and a bit of time travel, I arrived in Melbourne on Tuesday afternoon!
I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t stay at a friend’s house (I swear it’s the best way to travel), and this time, the hospitality I’m receiving is on another level. I’m staying at Daisy’s family home in Seaford, about an hour outside of Melbourne, and they’ve welcomed me like one of their own. They’ve opened up their doors for me for two whole months, even clearing out a room for me to use, and I can’t begin to put into words how grateful I am.
I’ve been in Australia for two days now, and I can already tell that the next couple of months are going to be full of new experiences. I’m excited for whatever comes next: there’s so much to explore, from the vibrant city of Melbourne to the laid-back coastal vibes of Seaford. I’m still figuring out what I want to do here—whether I’ll look for a job, volunteer, or maybe just spend some time chilling and soaking up the sunshine. Either way, I am ready to start sharing my journey again!
I’m sooooooo back and I hope you are too.
-Cels
CelsAway 
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