Hel to Gdańsk the long way, along the beach. Six days, no story to file, sand in everything.
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Eight days, one car, two children, one plan that survived contact with the children for about a day.
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Three days of lakes and forest an hour from Gdańsk, on a borrowed bike, for a piece about a region that doesn't want to be a story.
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Three days north because Inês said the light was different. It is. Breakfasts #3 to #8.
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Two days, no car, a sketchbook, and the coast road walked in the wrong direction on purpose.
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Six days, 460 km, one ferry, two punctures, no plan for the way back.
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The north of the north. Vinho verde where it comes from, rain that doesn't count, and my grandmother's cousin's caldo verde.
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A long weekend back. The flat has new tenants, the Späti has the same owner, the lake is the same lake.
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Three days south from Alcântara, round Cabo Espichel, into the Sado. Dolphins on the second morning, as if booked.
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A Saturday climb, a Sunday raft. Two hours from home and a different country altogether.
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Home to home without leaving the ground. Four trains, one night in Paris, and a sketchbook that filled itself.
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Long weekend north with the surf crew: Supertubos, Baleal, and a boat to an island that feels like it's been let off from Portugal.
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