We are sitting at a round table in the bank, in the very middle of San Salvador.

There’s three women in the room; me, Tanya- the notary, and Doña Vilma- the 77-year-old woman selling me her land.

Tanya is reading us the deed in Spanish language, legal document confirming the size of the land, price, name of the parties, etc. 

*I snap out for a second.* 

Suddenly, I realize what is happening.

I’m buying a property. By myself. In a foreign country. It’s a life changing move, I know it, and I’m not doing anything to stop it.

Firma aquí” (sign here).

Boom. I now own a 910m² land with a bunch of tropical plants and two huge mango trees. Walking distance from my favorite wave.

We shake hands, snap a picture, I get into my car. And I suddenly feel SO overwhelmed, I don’t even know how to deal with it. Mixed feelings totally overflow my cup. I want to both give myself a gigantic high-five… and cry at the same time. 

In that particular moment, I’m feeling very courageous and proud of my ability to go after what I want.

Playa El Tunco, El Salvador, 17 May 2018. Proud new owner of this land.

I’ve been a nomad for the past four years and it has been an absolute spin of colours. I can’t even recall all the flights I’ve took and the places I’ve visited. Those last years only have looked something like Canada- Indonesia – Australia – El  Salvador – Ecuador – Galapagos – USA – Indo – El Sal- Costa Rica – El Sal- Canada- Sri Lanka -Indo – El Sal – Mexico – Ecu- El Sal- Indo – Canada- USA- El Sal – Panama – El Sal – Ecuador – El Sal…….. Just to name the main ones.

Uffff, mate, I’ve seriously lost track of the in and outs, and so has my family…!

When I came back to El Salvador last September, after one more summer spent in Indo –and a stop in BC, a stop in QC, and a stop in Colorado– and all I could feel was this deep feeling of finally wanting to drop my suitcase, settle, and slow this madness down. 

The truth is- I’m exhausted. I don’t wanna spin any more.

But at the same time, I’m somehow scared of missing out on the rest of the world by deciding to own something and build a home in this country. I don’t want to let go of my sense of freedom… because it’s also what I love the most about my life.

I’m looking back on a decade of travels filled with SO MANY adventures, encounters and experiences, I can’t help laughing out loud at random as fuck memories. That night into the crazy electro scene of Berlin. The days spent living like barbarians in West Indonesia. The dance battles & brownie fights in Popoyo. That one time we took control of a tour bus in Australia, or the time I legit lost my clothes and arrived home butt-naked. Having my mind-blown scuba-diving in Komodo, bungee jumping in New-Zealand,  paragliding over Uluwatu, sailing the Great Barrier Reef, or getting an helicopter ride over Hawaii. The skinny-dipping and moonlit kisses. The reckless tuk-tuk, motorbikes and even elephant rides. The first, second and third time I fell in love with someone I met under the stars of a country that wasn’t ours. The friendships and connections that still remain, created with beings I never would have met if I hadn’t left the comfort of my city.

Give me a bottle of red, and I’ll tell you much more..

“I remember more than I have seen, and seen more than I can remember…”

4 years ago, I said: I’m confused about life here. All I really want is a one-way ticket to get the fuck out Canada, go get a taste of everything, find and refine what truly makes me vibe.

Now, 4 years later, I say: I really just want to have my own coffee-maker, my clothes in a drawer, and a place to call home.

Time are definitely changing, and I can confirm that transition periods do feel weird and mind-fucking. It’s a new identity, a new direction, that one needs to wrap her head around.


One of my best friends -a fellow nomad- got married recently. It all happened really quickly, they were basically married within 4 months of knowing each other. I asked her: how did you know? What made you commit,  you know… What does forever feels like, sis’?

She said, “you never know, and at the same time you just know. Is he the one and only person on this earth with whom it would have worked? I don’t think so. There isn’t a one and only. And you can spend your whole life asking yourself if the grass is greener in the neighbour’s yard. This other person. This other town. But when you find shelter into someone’s heart or someplace’ streets, and you just feel like being there ALL THE TIME. When you feel like doing everything with them, whatever it is. Well, then you know this is home.”

We don’t know of forever.

We only know of the present moment, at any given moment.

All we can do is go ahead and follow this path, as long as it still feels good. When there will be another crossroad, we’ll know. We can’t try to predict or prevent what hasn’t yet showed up. What is meant to happen, is already happening anyway…

I’m not sure if here is the right place, the best place, the one and only place. But as far as I know — 40ish countries later — this is the place that currently feels the most amazing. So here I am, owning a piece of it.

What am I going to do with it?

I’m going to build a sweet house of mine, to welcome all the people that I wish so bad could be part my everyday. I’ll make them fall in love with this country, and never let them leave ;).

Two rooms, an open-air kitchen & living room, space to do yoga & art. A pool, a garden, and maybe a skate ramp. It’s gonna be the most lovely place in town, where we can swim naked — because we fucking own it!

I’m excited forward to keep you all posted about the process of this ambitious project!

Here am I realizing that I was wrong in the first place;

This really isn’t the end of the adventurous days… it’s just the beginning of a brand new one.

Cheers to that!