Road tripping along the coast from Sydney up north, we share the car with people from all over the globe. After eight long hours, we finally arrive at our hostel in Byron Bay. Though hungry and longing for some sleep, we decide to explore our new temporary home and go to a local bar where we meet people from Europe, Canada and also Sydney and Melbourne.
The next morning, we take surfboards up the beach and I go surfing for the first time in my life. As I walk towards the water, the sun shining on my face, I find myself smiling, not caring about anything other than the ocean in front of me. The waves are crashing against my board and the board is crashing against my body. I can almost see the first bruises on my knees and hips. The wind makes me shiver but I get onto the board anyway, trying to catch a wave. Again and again. I’m floating on the water, my arms paddling towards the endless depths of the sea. I feel pure joy in my chest and paddle a bit further to enjoy the calmness of the water. Moments like this are stuck in my head forever, and at some point in the future I will randomly remember the cold waterdrops on my bare skin, the wind playing with my wet hair and the salt water on my lips. Life is all about those moments, moments of happiness.
Later that day, we wander up the hills, making our way through nature to the most easterly point of Australia. Barefoot and only wearing our bathers, we climb the fence to take a photo on the rocks with nothing but crystal clear water in front of us.
Our days are filled with lots of laughing, story telling and exploring while the nights are full of dancing and making new friends. I spend five magical days in Byron Bay with two sweet souls always by my side until it is time for us to leave again to go further up the coast.
We arrive in Paris in the early hours of the day, still half asleep but longing for an adventure. We leave our heavy bags at the loft we call our home for the next few days and go exploring the beautifulness of the city in the veil of the morning lights. We stroll through busy streets, take photos of little alleyways full of graffiti and pass some cute cafés until our feet hurt. As the sun gets closer to the horizon, we head to the Eiffel Tower. I am walking up the countless steps of the building when the last shafts of sunlight are kissing my nose and the wind is tangling up my hair. I stop to have a look at this magnificent view and try to breathe it all in. I smile because I realise this is life. These are the moments I will remember in ten years from now.
The next day is filled with more sunshine but again a freezing cold wind. After I got my well needed coffee, we make our way down the street and jump into the metro. Our destination is a suburb called Marais. This little area becomes one of my favourite places in the city of love. It is full of second hand shops and cafés with food that smells like heaven. We spend hours just walking and walking. In every corner there is a new shop that gets my attention and I have to stop to take a look at their windows. Another day passes, filled with pure excitement and happiness about life.
Our last day in Paris is one big adventure. We wake up early to get lost in a different world. We go to Disneyland, and to me it feels like going back to my childhood. We go to a land where Rapunzel is handing out kisses to some giggling girls, where we wander around and hide like little kids in Alice’s labyrinth and where we sit on a flying ship to escape to the place I have always wanted to go: Neverland. Peter Pan has always been my favourite fairy tale. A land where no one ever grows up? A land full of adventures, fairies and mermaids? Yes, please. We are naive young souls again who believe in magic and fairy dust. And that is how Paris remains in my thoughts, a midnight dream I wish I could escape to again.