The leaves are beginning to fall from the trees. The warm breath of summer gives way to a cool breeze and a rising sense of excitement in the air. Summer is over, the end of freedom and return to normality for most; for us the opposite, as the promise of a new adventure swells tangibly in the atmosphere, our very beings charged with the static of excitement.
This excitement, however, is tinged with a bittersweet sadness, the wrenching emotion of leaving our pets and families behind which lingered in the space between us as we made the 6 hour journey to Dover.
Every traveller surely knows the conflict between feeding their addiction and wanting to stay in their comfort zone surrounded by loved ones, but when the call of the journey beckons so loudly that closeness is a sacrifice you’re willing to make, that in itself is the making of a traveller.
It was a late, long journey across the English Channel, and standing in the sticky salt night air the enormity of the trip ahead began to dawn on us.
As our tyres finally hit French soil and began to pick up speed we felt an overwhelming mix of emotions. Joy, relief, excitement, comfort. As we watched the dotted white lines disappear in the wing mirror’s reflection into an infinite point on the horizon, finally we felt we were home. Because home for us wasn’t between four walls, it wasn’t on a patch of land or in one country.
#Follow the hashtag #Fromrusttoroadtrip to follow our van conversion project and our travels around Europe! 🌍