Preparing for the travel, Caracas, Venezuela, May 2026

It suddenly feels very close now.

Only two weeks remain until I leave Caracas for what will become a long sequence of journeys, reunions, transitions, airports, oceans, and roads. The tickets are booked, plans are slowly becoming real, and somewhere between excitement and logistics, I find myself already mentally moving between continents.

The journey will begin, appropriately enough, with one of those long TAP flights that seem to stitch my life together these days. From Caracas to Lisbon, then onward to Warsaw, and finally down to Kraków. I already know that familiar feeling of arriving slightly disoriented into the cool European morning light after crossing the Atlantic overnight.

And then — home.

I will spend two nights with Mum before we continue together toward Canada. From Kraków to Warsaw, and from there to Toronto. I am genuinely happy that we will be making this journey together. There is something deeply comforting in shared travel — small conversations at airports, coffee before boarding, the quiet companionship of moving through unfamiliar places side by side.

From Toronto, the plan is to drive with Tahir, Amna, and little Hania toward Picton, in Ontario. I have been looking at photographs of the area already: lakeside landscapes, small towns, open skies, vineyards, wooden piers stretching into calm water. Somewhere quieter. Somewhere where mornings begin slowly.

We will stay there for around a week, away from big cities, sharing time together, exploring the countryside, and likely making small trips around the region — perhaps toward Ottawa too. What I look forward to most is not any particular attraction, but the atmosphere itself: long breakfasts, evening conversations, nature, roads without hurry, finally meeting Hania in person, and seeing Tahir and Amna in this new chapter of their lives.

Then back again — Toronto to Warsaw — only briefly stopping before another journey begins.

This time southward.

Our first trip to Morocco.

We will fly to Agadir as part of an organised tour, which feels slightly unusual for me after so many independently improvised journeys across the years. But perhaps this is part of the charm too: letting someone else take care of the structure for once.

I already imagine the Atlantic coast, warm evening air, the colours of markets, the movement of people in the streets. We hope not only to stay in Agadir, but also to discover more of the country — the coast toward Essaouira, perhaps Marrakech, maybe smaller places along the way where life unfolds more quietly. Morocco has lived in my imagination for years as a meeting point of continents, colours, histories, and rhythms.

I think Mum is excited too.

After Morocco, we return to Poland again, and I will spend some quieter time in Nowy Sącz before another movement begins — Brussels for a week of meetings and preparation related to Addis Ababa. The next chapter slowly becoming real.

And then, eventually, back to Caracas once more. Back through Lisbon. Back to the familiar mountains surrounding the city. Back for the final stretch before Ethiopia.

I would be lying if I said I was entirely calm about all the flights. The ongoing aviation fuel situation and reports of possible disruptions across Europe have created a certain background anxiety around travel plans. Airlines and authorities insist that, for now, operations remain stable, although the wider situation continues to be monitored closely.

And yet, somehow, I remain hopeful that things will work out.

Travel always carries uncertainty. Flights get delayed. Plans shift. Connections are missed. One adapts. Perhaps years of humanitarian work have taught me that movement rarely unfolds exactly as imagined — and that flexibility matters more than control.

What stays constant is the anticipation.

The thought of seeing family and friends. Of discovering new places with Mum. Of coastlines and long roads and unfamiliar cafés. Of conversations unfolding somewhere between Toronto, Picton, Agadir, Marrakech, Warsaw, Lisbon, Brussels, and Caracas.

Life feels very much in motion these days.

And despite the uncertainties, I find myself grateful for that.