Denmark meets Germany.

The year is 2012. June.

I had just left my full-time job to become a nomad.

I might have forgotten my nomadic anniversary, but with the start of the European Championship, my memories came flooding back. At that time, the fixture gods presented the match between Denmark and Germany.

Again.

My thoughts returned to that fateful summer.

I had gotten rid of all my material possessions and started my two-month interrail journey across Europe, fitting my life into a backpack. I remember entering Generator Copenhagen on a cloudy day in June, feeling a wave of excitement as I looked at the sea of bell towers and saw those various architectural structures. I set out to wander relentlessly, watched the sunset at Nyhavn, and then went into the city with my friend Alex Berger to watch the opening match of Euro 2012 between Denmark and Germany.

The iPhone 4 photo I took at Nyhavn during that sunset, Copenhagen's 17th-century waterfront area

Euro 2012 Fanzone park. The amazing scenes of Denmark defeating Germany.

I still remember. The chaos and excitement following Denmark's unexpected victory over Germany. The countless beers that followed. 4 AM. Sitting drunkenly at the bus stop with friends. I wish I could bottle that excitement and anticipation. When I look at the photos from that summer in Copenhagen, I feel a bit of that old excitement and energy returning. Travel offers that thrill, the wonderful anticipation of the unknown, the luxury of anything being possible. There was a somewhat vague plan, but there was no big plan other than visiting a few hostels for my first book, "Luxury Hostels of Europe."

Travel is a wonderful drug, the best. After all these years of traveling, I love the act of traveling. Packing the backpack. Checking in online for the flight or planning to check my train reservation, making plans to get to the train station. Stocking up on travel snacks. Reading a bit about the place to go and taking notes on my phone. With each of my favorite rituals comes a series of rituals that become an escape, a self-care, and a loving act.

I miss traveling this way. It may surprise you, but I can't remember the last time I had a proper vacation. Now, you might think that you are the guy who is constantly traveling the world. True, but there is a difference between traveling for pleasure and traveling for work. I chose to make travel my lifestyle, my job, so my confession may sound a bit rich to you. Don't get me wrong. I wake up happy every day. Still, when you build your life, your work around traveling and don't have a main base, you miss those spontaneous moments, the thrill of the unknown when you have to plan your movements 6/12 months in advance. We try to set aside some time to rest, but the last few years have been a bit tough, working hard to pay off all debts and trying to increase our bank balance after the unproductive years of the pandemic. Now, as the pandemic fades into the background and I can look forward to a life filled with new rich possibilities, I dream of escape. Wandering relentlessly until sunset. Getting drunk with friends in a new city at 4 AM. Who can understand this situation?

I also think about how I don't know how to shut down and relax. If I decide to take a day off, I charge my Kindle to read a book and enjoy it with a coffee. I might have the patience to read a few pages, but either I feel tired or I fall back into my bad habit of mindlessly scrolling through my social media feeds and make the terrible decision to check my emails! What kind of fool does that on their "day off"? Maybe it's a habit I picked up from running my own business. The only thing I can do on my days off is long walks.

Being with my friends makes me feel like it's allowing me to close off. I just lied a moment ago. In fact, I had a holiday in Greece last year when our good friend Pascal from Berlin visited us in Athens. As someone who was coming to the mainland for the first time, he wanted to rent a car and explore, so we suggested a trip to the Peloponnese.

It was a wonderful few days. The weather was perfect. The scenery was wild and unkempt. There was a great sense of solitude everywhere we visited. I loved Napflio, the old Venetian outpost sitting in the blue Argolic Gulf with its beautiful fortress, narrow stone cafes, and magnificent mountain views. When the day-trippers left the town, I would get lost in the silence of the centuries and admire the fortress in the dark. There is a slight sense of decay in some places, which makes Napflio even more cursed.

Later, we visited the magnificent hilltop fortress of Larissa. It was close to sunset, and the abandoned castle, covered in wildflowers and grass, had an almost magical glow. The expansive view of the surrounding towns and the Argolic plains will stay in my memory for a long time. We visited a few wineries and drank plenty of good wine. The days felt endless, unplanned, and there was a real sense of adventure that I sometimes feel is missing in my work and travels. Outside of the plan, I carried an analog Olympus OM 10 camera with me to document this journey. I hadn't touched an analog camera in 20 years.

When the photos came out, ahh, many happy and old feelings returned. Here’s a selection...

I think many of us are entering this nostalgic mood, often longing for less technology, less "open" living, and enjoying the moment. Or maybe it's a way of trying to reconnect with an older version of ourselves.

Life is completing a cycle. Another summer. Denmark facing Germany. Will Denmark win again? Another chance to rewrite the script. Another chance to write a new story. Creating beautiful memories and pausing to remember the older version of yourself. Nostalgic but happy, I am still optimistic and excited about future possibilities.