CelsAway

In a life that’s constantly shifting, those little rituals make me feel stable.

There’s a big difference between passing through and staying long enough to feel like you live somewhere. Even when I travel fast, I try to ground myself. I don’t need a fixed address or matching furniture, but I do need rhythm, familiarity, and connection. If I can find those things—even in the smallest ways—I feel at home.

And while every country, city or village feels different, I always fall into the same small rituals. Without realizing it, I build a little life for myself. Not just sightseeing, but actually living.

This post isn’t about the places themselves, but the habits that make them feel like mine.

what you’ll read about:

1. Find One Spot and Keep Going Back
2. Join the Household, Not Just Visit It
3. Say Yes (Even When You’re Tired)
4. Leave a Piece of Yourself
5. Build Tiny Routines
6. Final Thoughts

Find One Spot and Keep Going Back

Whether it’s for breakfast, coffee, or just to sit down and write, I always find one local spot that becomes my spot. It doesn’t have to be anything special — just a place with a decent drink and a chair I like. In Ubud, it was Warung Bentang. I went there every single day for weeks. It took me two weeks, and it was only when I found the place and met these people that I felt I was not just passing through Ubud.

The same happened at 1888 bar in Seaford. I went there one morning and went back every day after. Before long the staff knew my name and my story and waved every time I passed by the window.

A familiar face in a familiar place — sometimes that’s all it takes.

Join the Household, Not Just Visit It

Some of the most “at home” I’ve felt was when I stayed with local families or friends. In Seaford, Daisy’s family treated me like one of their own. I shared meals, joined birthday parties, and even became part of their Friday night dinner system — each week, one of the kids chose what take-out the whole family would eat. I got a turn too.

In Java, Salma invited me to visit her hometown Temanggung and stay with her family. Within minutes, her mom hugged me like I’d been there before. Her sister’s toddler pushed his toy car my way. It wasn’t about comfort or privacy (we shared mattresses on the floor); it was about feeling welcomed without having to earn it.

In some places, I stay a long time — like the two months I lived with Daniel’s family, where I got my own corner in the house and was treated like one of the kids. Other times, it’s just a one-night sleepover, like when Hannah invited me to her house and her parents welcomed me so warmly, telling me I could always come back.

I don’t want to feel like a guest, even though I know I am. I want to help clean up, set the table, be included in the messiness. That’s how I know I’ve found something real.

Say Yes (Even When You’re Tired)

Don’t push your limits — which I’m not always too good at — but whenever an opportunity arises, say yes. It can be tiny or huge, but trust your gut feeling (which I will try to write about too another time!) and put your doubts aside. Almost every deep connection I’ve made while traveling started that way: with a yes when I could’ve easily said no.

In Agadir, saying yes to staying at Samira’s house (a complete stranger at the time) led to the best home-made meals, baking bread and a visit to her great grandmother and all of her cousins.

In Riung, we ended up teaching kids at the local primary school just because I danced in the rain a couple days earlier.

Saying yes doesn’t have to mean going far out of your comfort zone — it’s about staying open, even when you’re tired, even when you’re unsure.

Leave a Piece of Yourself

I like to give things away. A printed photo, a letter (this is probably my favorite), a piece of clothing that didn’t make the selection to travel onwards, or even a camera (although that will probably not happen twice). These aren’t big gestures. They’re just markers that I was there — that I didn’t just pass through, I was part of something.

Build Tiny Routines

Travel is unpredictable — that’s the beauty and the chaos of it. But inside that chaos, I make space for something I can count on. My mornings often look the same: I journal, I drink tea and eat breakfast, I was better at doing my skincare routine than I am now at home. I find a corner to sit and write. I call my sister, my mom, my dad.

In a life that’s constantly shifting, those little rituals make me feel stable. They keep me from spiraling, especially when the loneliness creeps in or the overwhelm hits hard.

Sometimes we expect that “home” needs to be this big, sentimental thing. But often it’s the most ordinary routines that ground us the deepest.

Final Thoughts

Home isn’t just a place. For me, it’s a feeling I carry with me. I create it through repetition, connection, and softness. Through letting people in and being let in. Through the parts of myself I leave behind, and the ones I find again in each new place.

So wherever I go next, I know I’ll find home again. Because I know how to build it.