I think the idea was always there. We always fantasized about leaving our lives behind and go on an adventure discovering new worlds and different ways of living, not as tourists but as travelers, owners of our time and free to change plan at the last minute, even leaving some things to chance. We didn't do it at the right moment, when there were just two of us and we had more money, because we were trying to be sensible. We had to buy a house, choose a place where to put down roots, secure a pension. Then Nina and Sara came along and at that point the idea was put aside as a dream to pursue maybe in years to come when the children left home and there would be just the two of us once again, maybe with nothing left to say to each other.
For years I convinced myself that the house was the key: after ten years renting other people's places it had become impossible to feel at home anywhere. If we only were able to tie ourselves to a place, then peace of mind would follow as a natural consequence. Many times we got close, but always pulled back at the last minute, unable to make the step for fear of what? Closing some doors forever, feeling trapped, bind our lives to one place despite the world being such a big place, something along these lines. Home were all our things, our books, music, the Sardinian rug in front of the fireplace, my friend's Turkish mirror and all the things that for years we dragged along to every place we have lived in. The four walls arrived much later, only three years ago when we stumbled across an occasion that couldn't be missed.
Once owners of our not so little square of land, after painting the dining room orange, the bookshelves green and arranged all our things, one day I sat on the bottom step to admire my work with a cup of coffee in my hand and asked myself: "Now what?" The restlessness was still there, the house just confined it to a smaller space making it all the more suffocating.
I turned on the radio and came across an interview to Christine Breen who was presenting her book "So many miles to paradise" where she described her experience of a trip around the world with her husband and kids. That's how the idea came back. In one of those rare and precious moments in life where you know with all your being to be doing the right thing, I picked up the phone and told Brendan: "Let's go!" I would have happily sold the house and gone there and then, but my half is more rational than me and convinced me to wait a while so as to organize our finances and keep the recently acquired four walls, to have something to go back to.
We sat down with the atlas open in front of us and a very long wish list. When we finally dealt with reality the list was shortened to three continents and a budget of 60 thousand euro, with a safety net of another 20 thousand. Will we be able to do it? We don't know but it's all part of the game.

Listening to Noir Désir: Le Vent Nous Portera

"If you don't have peace of mind you have nothing, you know what I mean?" It's one of those chocolate box kind of truths borrowed from Alfie, when after two hours of full-on life always pursuing his selfish needs, he weighs things up and the revelation strikes him: no matter how much you got in life, without peace of mind you have nothing.

It was the beginning of '95, sitting on my suitcase filled with few clothes, lots of books and a some familiar items from home, I was reading Jonathan Livingstone Seagull. In Rome's International Airport people went by, all rushing, all looking like they knew where they were heading, all with a place to go. Every so often I raised my eyes from the book and fixed some of them, asking myself what their story was and why they were taking a plane that day. With a one-way ticket to Dublin as the only travel companion I had never felt more lonely. But in the end loneliness was good, it was what I wanted, what I had looked for and finally found the courage to grab: detach myself form everything and everyone to see if I could make it on my own. It was the challenge I had set myself to. The interesting part was how long I would last.

Twelve years, 8 addresses, 4 countries, 2 daughters and 1 husband later I am back at the starting point. This time the ticket is 'circular', it goes around the planet and gets back, in theory, to the starting point. The tickets are also 4, but the spirit is the same: eight months around China, Australia, New Zealand, Fiji, Chile, Bolivia, Peru and Argentina to stretch the limits, to challenge ourselves, to see if we can make it. No matter how we claim to be fond of security and stability in the end the human condition is one of perpetual restlessness and without a daily challenge we have no peace. Some less so than others.

Our lives need a shake, we have settled too much in the last few years and we need a wake up call to start living actively again instead of enduring what the routine brings us everyday. At the end of this trek around the world we hope to change perspective, change our look on life and its daily struggles and go back to being able to make decisions without fear of loosing some comfort.'Cause in the end without peace of mind you have nothing, you know what I mean now?

Listening to Mick Jagger, 'The blind leading the blind'