
I’ve cried in hotels, gotten lost on purpose, surfed waves I had no business being on, and eaten things I couldn’t name. If you’ve ever come home from a trip feeling like a slightly different person — and couldn’t quite explain why — you’ll feel at home here.

I didn’t choose travel. Travel chose me first.
I grew up watching my father pack his bags for places I could barely find on a map. He came home with stories, objects, and a look in his eyes that I spent years trying to understand — and eventually stopped trying to understand, and just went looking for myself.
My first big trips were paid for by a weekly newspaper that sent me to cover the world as it was changing. One of those assignments took me to East Timor for the first anniversary of its independence. I still remember the faces in the crowd that day — the kind of hope that doesn’t perform for cameras. That’s when I understood what travel journalism could actually do: put you in rooms that history is being made in, and ask you to pay attention.
At the same time, I was chasing something else entirely: waves. I started in 1995, when there were just a few girls surfing in Portugal. I was one of them. Thirty years later, I live in Ericeira — a World Surfing Reserve — and the ocean is still the place where everything makes the most sense to me.
Over the years, journalism has never stopped. I’ve written for Lonely Planet, Deco Proteste, and for this blog, which started as a personal record and grew into something I share with people who travel the way I do: with curiosity, with intention, and without a fixed idea of what they’ll find.
I also lead travel groups all over the world, because sometimes the best way to see a place is with someone who’s already gotten lost there.
This is me. I’m glad you’re here.
I don’t travel to collect places. I travel to understand them, which takes longer, requires more wrong turns, and produces better stories. My approach has always been the same: show up with curiosity rather than assumptions, talk to people rather than just photographing them, and write about what actually happened rather than what was supposed to happen. After more than a decade doing this, I still believe the most interesting version of any destination is the one you only find when you stop following a plan.


Surf spots, hidden destinations, packing fails, and the occasional life update from wherever I’ve landed. Join the newsletter and travel along. No ticket required.