From exhaustion to the field

People often assume that adventure begins with a mountaintop or a plane ticket, but for me it began with an illness.

In 2018, after a severe allergic reaction, my health completely changed. I developed ME/CFS and went from being incredibly active to barely being able to drag myself through work some days. Everything became exhausting. I found the simplest tasks overwhelming, and suddenly I was forced to slow down like I never had before.

It changed my whole way of thinking.

Like so many people, I had fallen into the idea of ​​the «normal» life plan: work hard, climb the ladder, buy the house, save for later, travel when you retire. But getting sick made me realize that the future is not guaranteed. We don’t know how much time, health or ability we will have later. Waiting «one day» suddenly seemed like a big gamble.

Fortunately, over time I recovered well. But I never went back to the person I was before, and honestly, I don’t think I wanted to.

That experience became the catalyst to change our lives completely.

In 2024, my husband and I sold our house, sold our cars, got rid of most of our belongings, and decided to build a life around the things that truly made us feel alive. The plan was simple in theory: travel the world slowly, walk as much as possible and volunteer along the way, using my veterinary nursing skills to help where we could and give back.

We started with a pretty big challenge: walking from Land’s End to John O’Groats across the UK. Fourteen weeks of living simply, carrying everything you need and walking through some of the most incredible landscapes this country has to offer. It was difficult, beautiful, exhausting, pivotal, and honestly one of the best things we’ve ever done.

Since then, we’ve traveled, volunteered, and hiked across Europe and Asia, and have continued to build a life that feels much more aligned with who we are. Right now we are preparing for stage 1 of the Hexatrek: 600 km from Wissembourg to Nyon.

And somehow, despite my health history, the trail is where I feel best.

Out there, my brain calms down. I don’t think too much. I don’t make fatalistic or catastrophic plans. I’m not constantly rushing to do the next thing. I simply exist in the moment. Noticing the smell of the pine forests, the crunch of gravel under my shoes, the sun on my face, the singing of birds, the distant mountains and poorly brewed coffee on a camp stove. Life is wonderfully simple again.

Nature has been one of the greatest healers in my life. Not in the cliché «nature heals» sense, because chronic illnesses are much more complicated than that, but in the sense that being outdoors reconnects me with myself. It reminds me to slow down, breathe properly, and appreciate the present instead of constantly worrying about the future.

You will often find me hugging trees, walking barefoot on the dirt, or standing silently looking at mountains as if they are the most beautiful thing in the world (and they often are!).

By writing for The Trek, I hope to share the reality of this lifestyle: the adventure, the hard days, the lessons of the trail, the beauty of slow travel, and the ways the outdoors can change us. Not because I think everyone should sell their belongings and disappear into the mountains, but because I think many of us crave connection, simplicity, and space to breathe.

For me, the trail gave me that back.

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