🌍 What Travel means to me (Then vs. Now)

A story of evolution, motherhood, and presence

Travel became a part of who I was the moment I stepped onto a plane for the very first time at 21. I still remember the mix of excitement and fear the night before my early flight to London. My best friend and I giggled our way to Girona’s airport at 4 a.m., way too young and too broke to afford anything fancy but that was part of the charm. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

As soon as the plane took off, I knew two things:

I hated flying. I never wanted to stop traveling.

The thrill of arriving somewhere unknown has always outweighed any fear I've had. In my twenties, I traveled through Spain, Europe, and even made it to the U.S. exploring cities like New York, Los Angeles, and San Francisco, and swimming in the peaceful waters of Hawaii. But the trips that truly stayed with me were the ones to the Caribbean. That was when something shifted.

It was no longer about checking cities off a list.
It became about connection with people, cultures, energy.

It sparked something in me: a desire to experience and promote a more conscious, fairer way of traveling. One where local communities aren’t just seen but also valued, heard and respected.

Motherhood, Movement & Slow Travel

When I got pregnant at 27, I was genuinely happy to become a mum but I was also very scared. I thought I would have to give up one of my greatest passions. Oh, how wrong I was!

Yes, traveling changed. Yes, it became harder. But it also became deeper, softer, slower and infinitely more meaningful.

I remember our first flight together. My son was just two months old. I panicked for two hours thinking he’d scream the entire flight. Instead, he slept the whole way back to Barcelona. And I realized… this was possible.

Since then, we’ve traveled together with strollers, nappies, and later with toys and snacks. I adapted to his rhythm, and in doing so, I slowed down too. I started noticing the small things again, taking deeper breaths and appreciating the in-betweens.

At 18 months, I took him to the Caribbean as part of his roots are there. Seeing him surrounded by people who looked like him filled my heart in a way I can’t quite put into words. I hope I can take him back again now that he’s older, so he can keep connecting with that part of who he is.

When Covid hit, travel plans stopped. Like many, we stayed local, mostly exploring Spain and nearby countries in Europe but that season taught me that meaningful travel doesn’t have to be far because slowness was enough. One morning, I even had a moment, one of those "what if I die tomorrow" moments, and booked a spontaneous trip to Paris. My son was four, and we went to Disneyland for the first time. The look on his face? Still one of my favorite memories (meltdowns and all).

I thought traveling with a child would take something away from me.
Instead, it gave me so much more: more presence, more stories to share.
And the most unexpected gift... I found my little travel soulmate.

Conscious Travel, Deeper Purpose

Last year, I decided he was ready for a bigger adventure. We booked a 10 days road trip through Morocco, a country that pulses with rhythm and soul. He was incredible. Open, curious, patient. It gave me confidence to go even further, so this January we did a 14-day road trip through Senegal and The Gambia.
It was pure magic. Even when we waited nearly 24 hours to cross the river by ferry. 

People often tell me I’m brave to travel like this as a single mum. Maybe I am. But to me, it’s not about being brave, it’s about creating memories. Travel is the best gift I can give him. The chance to learn through people, landscapes, cultures, challenges, laughter and sometimes even tears. We’re currently dreaming up a road trip through Côte d’Ivoire and Cape Verde. Maybe someday we’ll make it to China or Japan.

Places That Changed Me

I used to be proud of visiting big cities and ticking off iconic spots. But the trips that shaped me weren’t always the loudest ones.

In Grenada, I felt the rhythm of the Caribbean heartbeat and saw how joy and resilience live side by side.

In Côte d’Ivoire, I danced, listened, and re-learned the meaning of presence.

In Senegal, I witnessed the power of community-led initiatives and what Teranga is really all about. 

In The Gambia, we waited for hours unexpectedly and almost messing up all of our plans, but it reminded me: "sometimes, time doesn’t belong to us, we belong to it."

In Morocco, I let the moment guide me through its scents and it sounds. And I felt free again around the Sahara desert. 

Each of these places left something special with me. And I hope I left something beautiful behind too.

🌿 Healing, Identity, and the Practice of Presence

Travel, for me, is no longer a way to escape.
It’s a mirror.
It reflects what I still carry, and what I’m learning to let go.
It teaches me to slow down.
To stay open when things don’t go to plan.
To embrace uncertainty and chaos with more flexibility and less fear.
To notice beauty in what’s unfolding, not just in what’s expected. I am still learning...

It’s also an act of responsibility.
I choose to support local businesses.
I try to stay in accommodations that uplift and empower the communities that welcome us.
But it’s more than that.
It’s also about unlearning.
Unlearning what I’ve been taught about “right” and “wrong” ways of living.
Unlearning judgments I didn’t know I carried.
Unlearning the need to judge, compare, or to fix.
And then, it becomes about relearning.
Relearning how to listen deeply, quietly, respectfully.
Relearning how to approach difference not with fear, but with curiosity and respect.
Relearning how to observe with humility, not assumption.
To witness. To honor.
Since becoming the mother of a mixed-race child, travel also became a matter of identity.
I don’t impose anything but I give him the space he needs to discover his own sense of self.
So he can explore where he comes from, who he is, and why all of it matters.
And so he can feel proud of his story, not despite its complexity, but because of it.

Travel Now, Travel with love

What travel means to me now is very different from what it meant at 21.
It’s no longer just freedom.
It’s also connection. Presence. Learning. Legacy.
It’s a slow inhale. A long look. A truth unfolding in motion.

I still hate flying.
But I’ll always choose to keep going.
Because now, I travel with purpose. With presence. With love.
And that makes all the difference.