Great corpo job with a lot of money but not fullfillness. Crazy party life but not real relation. Stucked in one place and have never seen the world.

One day I woke up and decided – I will sell everything and hit the road.

That wasn’t my case.

No movie story in my life story. Something more “boring” like process. Growing up on the road. Changing perspectives. Knowing how to be by myself. Process which is still on.

My first real trip happend when I was 2 years old. My parents went yachting to ex-Jugoslavia. Of course I don’t remember anything. My memories are stories I’ve heard while watching photos.

But I still remember very well one day when I was maybe 11. I went to the garden where my mother was sitting and asked here – mom, can I go with Martyna to Bielsko by train? (Bielsko is a town approx. 26 km from my hometown). And she said “yes”.

Probably that was my first real journey.


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