There are times that everything seems to flow naturally. You’re feeling good, life’s cool, you’re not fussing about something in particular. Your days appear normal rather uneventful but fulfilling, as you seem to have found a routine that suits you. And then, all of a sudden, one thing changes and the entire structure loses its stability all together.


This happened to me last week. The project I’m currently working on is coming to an end and the subsequent proposal that was made, which I initially thought I loved, might not be the thing I want to do after all. In the span of two days, I felt like my recently build pink air castle suddenly turned into a raging storm. I’d been swept of my feet, my consciousness was clouded, I panicked and couldn’t stick to my routine anymore. My head yelled: “You might be without a job in two months! What are you going to do now?”

“I just don’t know!”

After the initial loss of mental clarity (read: cycling through town for no reason and eating lots of crap), I forced myself to have a better look at the situation. Is it really that bad? In what ways could I regard this as an opportunity? Could this be a new adventure? When walking the Camino, the yellow arrows point you in the right direction. On the GR, it’s the red and white, the stones and the shells that guide you. I reckon we can find these waymarks in life too, although they might require a little more effort to find.

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Besides looking for directions, clues or other stuff that can ignite you fire to continue wandering with a fierce pace. Give yourself some time. It’s OK to just don’t know for a day or two, eat nachos and ice cream, forget about your work-out and let your house turn into a pig shed. Just make sure you get your ass of the couch the day after, clean up and start mapping out a new route… even if you’re not sure.

Sudden changes like this force you to think about which direction you want to head in. Pick a new path or, perhaps, continue walking with a new mindset. There are always certain things that can give you direction. Eventually, it might not be the greatest or the most beautiful route, and you might not even be heading into the right direction, but you’ll figure that out soon enough, when shit hits the fan and all falls apart again. The next time, however, you might not need an I just don’t know-day before you’re ready to jump into a new adventure.




I wake up. With one hand I carefully remove my sleep mask, and try to open my eyes that seem to be glued together as I forgot to remove my mascara the night before. When I finally manage to separate my lashes, the light hits with such intensity that I instantly drop the intention on getting up all together. Whilst hit by a wave of grief when thinking of all the productive and exciting things I could’ve done, I pull the doona over my head and know that the rest of my Saturday will be lost, as I lay in bed dying a little due to a boozy Friyay-eve.

Although this doesn’t happen every week, when it does I wish it hadn’t. I don’t think there is anything wrong with having a drink now and then, it’s just that I’ve never been in a social setting, and had a single drink. Even that one time when my friend would stay sober to drive us home after a party, and I was trying to be supportive so I only had one drink… I had a taste of someone else’s cocktail when she went to the toilet (if you’re reading this, just know that I really tried). Point is, after one I know no limits. And I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one.

Where am I going with all this?

Glad you’re asking. As I‘ve been on a mission to explore things that make me view the everyday from a different perspective, and perhaps gain some insight into myself and others, it got me thinking about all the habits we’ve adopted, simply, because we think we need them or accept them without questioning. Drinking alcohol is one of those habits. Although I’m perfectly capable to enjoy a single glass of red when I’m reading a book on my couch, as soon as I’m somewhere with people the infinite consumption of alcohol seems totally all right. Until I wake up the next day, and I feel like I’ve been dragged through a sewer pipe.

Reflecting on this situation uncovered a feeling that I wanted this to be different, but before you can change things it’s key to obtain some insight in the situation, habit or thing you want to change… so I started asking myself some questions.:

how often, how much and when do you drink?

Pretty much every weekend includes one of the following:

  • Friday drinks at work or with friends
  • a (birthday) party
  • Saturday arvo catch-ups
  • drinks and dances
  • reading on the couch with a glass of wine
  • post-yoga wine date (it’s a thing)

I do have to point out here, my life knows alcohol free weeks. On weekdays I try not to drink, however, if I go out with a friend for dinner I’ll have a drink or two, same with super sunny late night park hangs… or if I have an unfinished bottle left from the weekend, I might have a cheeky one after work. The total units per week, thus, range from two to ten.

why do you drink alcohol in the first place?

I drink because I like the taste of a good glass of wine with delicious food, to relax after a long day of work, because alcohol is the obvious choice and I like to try all the different G&T’s this bar has, because I’m having a good time and think it’ll be even more fantastic after this cocktail, to appear a little less nervous and more awesome during a date, move like a rock star, celebrate it’s Friday, or Saturday, or Sunday… endless reasons that might not be legit but are, as soon as you’ve finished the first glass.

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how does the thought of not drinking make you feel?

I’m in two minds about it. There’s one part of me that is super excited to explore all the happenings, thoughts and feelings that will occur in this period of intentional abstinence. Deep down inside there is another part of me somewhat frightened that the usual social outings featuring alcohol will now turn into something rather awkward or underwhelming. It might be totally different though, guess only time can tell.

can you go without alcohol for thirty days?

As a lot of people before me probably have insightfully mentioned: You can do anything for thirty days. So yes. Damn sure I can. And anyone else too!

Ever thought about losing the booze for a while? Take some time to answer these questions. Be honest though! No matter how shocking your answers might seem to you, you can only start changing things up when you’re aware of the impact it has on you and your life.

Now, when am I going to start this exciting adventure! As September is coming to an end and, internationally, October seems to be THE month to shed all your shitty habits – think OcSober in Australia, Stoptober in the Netherlands and the UK – I reckon it cannot be more obvious… Tomorrow, on the first of October, I won’t touch anything containing alcohol until November commences, and I sure will keep you in the loop about my liquor-less life.

Cheers to that!



The past weeks, I’ve felt a little unsettled about when a wayfarer. I can – and most likely will – write about the things you should definitely pack before you embark on your Camino, the things I wish I’d known before I ventured off for three months, the places where I spent the night and that which my pilgrimage gave me, apart from a whole lot of callus. Yet, the thought of the Camino being the only topic I could write about makes me shiver, as it wouldn’t be covering my entire journey.

The pilgrimage that ended in Fisterra was part of a larger journey that, up until today, continues. Life would probably be an accurate, all-encompassing description of that larger pilgrimage that I am hinting at ; ) Writing about my experiences as a pilgrim was not the sole aim of starting this blog: I wanted to create a fixed place to return to whilst trying to find my own way in the world.

Since returning back home in March, I noticed the entire endeavour just made me realise there are a ton of things yet to be discovered, massive amounts of adventures to be experience and dreams to be realised. It unleashed a quest to seek, experiment with and discover ways to make wayfaring through life a tad more adventurous, inspiring and meaningful.

Thus, as with the changing of the seasons, when a wayfarer changes along. From now on, apart from Camino-related posts, you’ll also find regular reports in regards to my quest. On top of that, I have changed the look of the site a little bit… hope you like it!

In other words, if you’re interested in the daily discoveries and doings of a wacky wayfarer whom’s seeking more than she finds… stay tuned!

Happy Equinox!




And then you are back home. Like a character taken from one novel and placed into another narrative. One you recognise, though uncertain about the details. I remember opening my door, stepping inside my house and being overwhelmed by a feeling of completion: the circle was complete, I returned where I started. The actual journey had come to an end; however, the unease and discomfort that followed marked a new beginning. I knew immediately it was not going to be easy to return to that which I had departed from.

First came the excitement. Finally! No plastic mattresses and no throw away covers that attach themselves to you body during the night. My toilet! I almost hugged my toilet. (I restrained myself though as I realised that would have been a rather strange thing to do.) But the joy I experienced knowing I no longer had to take a dump on a different toilet every day, was out of this world. Taking hot showers, buying food and keeping it in the fridge, washing my clothes longer than the 30 minute quick cycle, rolling out my yoga mat and do yoga whenever I want, wearing ACTUAL clothes, meeting up with all my friends… the list of things that made me super excited about being back home goes on and on.

Unfortunately, the initial excitement didn’t last very long. After a few days, I started to intensely miss being on the road. Getting up early, being on the way, being outside and physically active all day, the rhythm, and, most importantly, the feeling of quiet/peace/space it gave me. Everything had been moving all this time and now it had all stopped. The feeling of standing still made me anxious and irritated. For 3,5 months I was heading somewhere, I had a destination and the movement towards that – in this case – physical location allowed me to open up and work with myself. Returning home, the movement that became so important to me remained absent due to the lack of direction.

So today I asked myself: Where do you want to go? I guess this question calls for for a mini-pilgrimage. It’s time to figure out which direction will be next.