Distance has been my best friend for the past few years now. Since I first left Thailand for Germany 5 years ago, I started to introduce distance into my life, my relationships.

It began with a distance between me and my family in Thailand, which continued to grow in time and space since then.

As a result of living in Germany and connecting with more people, I also put on a distance between me and my family and friends in Germany, where I consider my second home.

After a brief meeting with Lena when I moved to England a year later, we became really good friends, despite the fact that she is from Russia and in the past three years that we have known each other we have met three times in total. She is one of the first few people I think of when I have stories to tell, good or bad, and often I wish we live closer to each other.

Then there is Flo, my one and only connection to this grim island. We lived together for a year and a half, before I moved to Italy and she moved back to London after graduation. I could write endlessly about her, but in short I just want us to still be living together.

There are also a few friends from high school in Thailand who now live all over the places, and really dear friends I have met through travelling. Then the complication expanded when I did my semester abroad in Bologna. Italy became my third home, and boyfriend happened.

It is bound to happen in this way, I believe. The fact that I keep moving around and never seem to want to settle down in one place, I would either have no relationships or if I do, it would be a rather complicated one.

Fate must have decided that due to all the existing long-distance relationships in my life, I would be able to easily deal with another one.

I started to ask myself why this happened, one evening while I was sitting by myself in my little room in Leeds, forth year of ‘officially’ living here and I found myself with very little social life and desire to socialise with people. When I travel, I do love to meet people and even end up forming some long-lasting (and of course, long-distance) friendships with them. So what is happening here?

Is it my relationship with this country where I still couldn’t call home? Is it me who is not being open enough? Maybe this is just not my place? Am I afraid of settling down, and when I know that I would be living here for four years I simply hold myself back from feeling attached to this place? Or to any place at all?

This long-distance situation started to become a normality of my life and I started to question myself how long this will last. What would it be like to live with all my close friends around, meeting up for brunch every Sunday or having dinner together on Saturday night? Going straight to their place when I need someone to talk to instead of trying to call them on Skype? Going over to my parents’ ad bring them some cakes I baked or seeing my boyfriend after a long day at work?

I don’t know.

One thing I do know is that this is the life I am creating for myself, and consequentially I would always be in long-distance relationships with places. Having found home in three different countries, three different cultures. Because I don’t only have relationships with people, but also places. People can move and come together, but that’s not the case with places.

I suppose I will see how life will unfold itself from now on.

It has been almost 8 months since I landed in this romantic, food-obsessed country of Italy. Looking back now, I have changed so drastically from the beginning of this journey. I have travelled a lot and encountered many unexpected matters, both through travelling and simply living. I took a huge step out of my comfort zone, not just once but twice, and both times were great learning outcomes experiences.


First I stepped out of my creative bubble and decided to do something I have always wanted to and passionate about, yet too scared to actually make it happen. I decided to make a documentary about Couchsurfing, a platform that transformed the way I travel and perceive the places I visit, and allowed me to discover more places and cultures than I could ever have without it. The result was a 10-minute documentary full of food and smiley people, and beautiful blue sea, but more important than the documentary was the the overall experience of the trip itself, the traditions (and recipes) I learned and the people I met and became friends with. Even after I visited Sardegna, Calabria, and Sicilia, Puglia was still by far at the top of my travel experience. I have to admit that it was quite frustrating afterwards because nothing seemed to reach the point of my beautiful journey to Puglia.

Then, just after a couple of weeks I got back from Puglia, I took the second step. This time, it was something personal which led to self-discovery…well, it’s not as fancy as it sounds, I just opened myself up for a relationship for the first time in a very long time.

Having been travelling, moving from places to places (and living in England), I tried to avoid getting too attached to anyone. I loved my independency too much and even though sometimes I would feel quite lonely, I wasn’t quite ready to give up my freedom for a relationship.

I mean, I thought relationship was just relationship, how much can I learn from being in a relationship than travelling and meeting interesting cultures?

For that, I was wrong. Being in a relationship taught me much more than I could ever imagine. Not just about being with another person, but also about myself and all the issues that are buried deep inside me, something I didn’t even notice it was there. By allowing someone to be so close to me, I opened up myself bare and he saw it right through me.

On top of that, I also found my best friend in Bologna.

It’s been almost 5 months since we first got together, and so my experience in Bologna has been highly influenced by his presence, since we spent more time together than not. I have travelled less and been through more states of confusion and frustrations, and I have cried more than ever. He helped me grow in a way no one else could ever have, and I thank him for that.

So yes, my time in Italy as an Erasmus student ends today. I’m boarded on my delayed flight back to the wet and cold England like a new person, with a significant increase of my Italian-ness level and understanding of this beautiful-mess people, culture and country. All these not-for-sell experiences will stay with me forever, in the way I am, the way I live, and the way I view the world.

It’s is the beginning of a different version of me.

This, is what I find beautiful.

Before leaving Bologna, we went to Decathlon together and one of the main purpose of going there was to buy a tent. So after a week of staying in Calabria, we left for our first camping trip, all the way up to Scalea, near Basilicata, the neighbouring region.

Why there? Because it was close to a place in the mountain called Orsomarso where we wanted to go rafting, and I saw a photo of Arcomagno on Instagram which looked very beautiful.

After 3 trains lasting over 4 hours or so, and a bus ride, we arrived in San Nicola Arcella, where we had to walk up and down the rock, in the afternoon heat, to this Arcomagno beach. It was hot, and the back was heavy, especially my beloved pink backpack Antonio was carrying which had like 4 litres of water and also a tent tied at the bottom.

He was cursing me inside, I knew it.


At last we arrived at the place and jumped straight into the water. To be honest, I much preferred the water at the beach in front of his house in Saline. It was much clearer and cleaner there, and less crowded obviously. But after being all hot and sweaty all day long, jumping into that water was the best thing we could ask for.

After the sunset, people started leaving, but we stayed. We stayed on a big long beach near the entrance of the cave. Full moon was a good natural light for us as the night creeped over the sky. We lay on a towel, watching the stars and snacking on taralli and toasted chickpeas.

Yes, toasted uncooked chickpeas.

There were only us on the beach, and it was amazing. We went skinny dipping at around midnight before coming back up to dry ourselves and called it a night.

It felt so liberating. That was my first time camping with anyone but my parents.




The next night, we slept next to a small river in Orsomarso, a cosy tiny village up the mountain. After rafting that morning, we found ourselves with 10 euros cash in for the day because the rafting place didn’t accept card. There was no ATM in Orsomarso, and only one shop that accepted card there.

We were dancing like children when the lady came and open that shop, almost half an hour later than the ‘opening time’. At least we knew we would not starve to death.

And Antonio went crazy. He bought like 3 different kinds of deli meat and cheese, beans, bread, tuna and stuff. Then we walked out of town to put our tent up before walking on the trail along fiume argentino.


The trail was lovely, and walking along the stream really reminded me of my dad. We walked and talked and stopped to pick berries or explore varieties of tree. There was a small medicinal garden in there, and they even had fern!

We headed back after the sunset and got a little terrified because of stray dog and a pair of animal eyes staring at us from the woods. Then as soon as we got into the tent, we ate.

That was probably the most memorable meal I had in the whole of Calabria, not because of the food but the experience itself, where I was and who I shared that meal, that hike, and that journey with.

I had never seen Antonio as a (stereo)typical Italian guy, let alone Southern Italian which somewhat would have an even stronger ‘Italian-ness’ (if that’s even a word) Originally from Calabria, he had, more or less, been brought up in Bologna and only spent a few years of high school in the region where his family was from.

Before leaving Bologna, I was told how traditional and conservative people in the village could be. It was seen as a norm to marry someone from the same village and such. I found it hard to believe, especially when I see him as this ultra open-minded person he was.


But what he said was true. Saline was a small village and it reminded me a little of my hometown in Thailand. Every knew each other and old people sat outside in front of their houses at night, talking. Big birthday celebrations, the importance of your family.

I wasn’t quite sure what I expected before I got there, but certainly not something as traditional as this. This place was like an authentic village, where locals and only locals lived, an mostly old people.

And I saw the other side of my boyfriend, something similar to who I would become when I go back home to my family.

In Bologna, he had it all in control; his place, his space, his kitchen, his life. He was a grown-man taking care of other people in the house.


Here in Saline, I saw him as a brother, as a son, as a grandson. He let his guard down, and he was more like when he was with me with other people around here too. His smile was sweeter, his laugh seemed happier, more genuine. He let other people take care of him, look after him. He would call his dad to check in when we went out hiking. He was more relaxed here, and I loved seeing that.

Though how conservative and religious people from there were surprised me a little. It would not have registered in my mind if he had not told me that by bringing a girl home, it would indicate that you two would be getting married. In that case, it’s expected that you bring her around ad introduce her to your whole extended family.

Otherwise no one would be really that interested in you. Well, you are not planning to get married and become a part of the family, so why bother?

Basically there were two types of relationship there, the one for fun and the one for life, nothing in-between. Although he did explained to his dad later what we were, and how I was important to him.

Learning about all these things, about where he grew up, about his background, his past, and a part of his childhood, it made me want to share mine with him too.

I had never thought I would be travelling with someone.

Travelling with my Couchsurfing friends was imaginable, but other than it had barely ever crossed my mind. How did I ended up travelling around Calabria with my boyfriend, that I wasn’t quite sure.

Well, maybe because he was originally from there. Even though Calabria had never entered into any of my travel plans, it was a good opportunity to discover this rather ‘untouched’ region (and considerably unknown to many people outside Italy.)

When mentioned that I would be going to Calabria to Italians, question marks appeared on their faces, like they wanted to ask, ‘Why are you going there?’ and to people outside Italy, even Europeans, often asked where Calabria was.

After the quick 1 night stop in Rome, our Blablacar driver picked us up on the hottest sunny afternoon, and off we went down South, on a 7-hour drive to the toe of Italy.

We drove through the mountains and along the sea, the landscape of this place already had my heart.

I drifted in and out of sleep, listening to Italian conversations between the two sisters from the neighbouring town and my boyfriend, Antonio. At some point that night, we entered a small village by the sea called Saline Joniche, the place where Antonio came from.

From then, it was more about the experience, not the place. Every experience was new to me.

After a light dinner, we went out for a walk along the main street and he recalled the atmosphere of this village when he was a child to me, how people moved out to find work and the place was slowly dying. I could sense the nostalgic feeling in his voice when he talked about the big fair on the street he used to go, or how lively a bar next to his house was.

The next two and a half weeks in Calabria were quite interesting for me. This trip was definitely much different than any other I have experienced. I didn’t feel like I have learned, seen or experienced much of Calabria, but instead I learned about myself as much as what it’s like to share this travel experience with someone else. I learned to compromise and I learned about silly habits I would like to get rid of. It really was the trip about my relationship I thought it would be at the beginning, only so much more about that than I expected it to be.

There were more sweet than bitter moments, but both were equally important and valued. We learned to deal which each other’s mood and habits. I learned to stop and compromise. We learned to talk and apologise.

I also learned a lot about myself and the way I overthink things. I was scared of making decision because I was afraid of the consequence. Since I didn’t travel by myself, it wasn’t just me who would bear the consequence of my decisions, and I didn’t want to feel responsible for his feelings. I was afraid to be blamed when something went wrong, and sometimes I didn’t want to say my crazy weird ideas out loud because I knew that he would be likely to let me choose what I want to do just for me to be happy. But I wanted him to make the choices he want too.

Although I also knew that seeing me happy was what made him happy as well.

This trip also thought me about the beauty of sharing all these new experiences with someone. Someone who was willing to be a part of my journey. At the end, what I would remember from this trip was more likely to be those moments we shared, rather than beautiful places. Like the two hours of sweaty walk uphill and the conversation about travelling we had, running our of cash while we were staying in a small village or having rustic dinner in our tent after a long walk along the river; our sunset, sunrise and midnight (skinny) dips in the sea or lying on the beach, gazing into the stars under the moonlight. The beaches I had been to in Sardinia were no doubts much more stunning than here, but there were no beautiful shared memories created on those beaches.

Unlike when I was in Puglia, it wasn’t Calabria that had left an impression on my, it was being in Calabria with Antonio that did.

This had truly become a journey of my relationship. Something that had crossed my mind before but never thought it would happen so early. Right here, right now.

Cala Gonone is another well-known spot in Sardinia. Before going there, I was wondering why this place was so popular. I mean, there are beautiful sandy beaches everywhere. I thought I would be spending another day lying on the beach reading my book.

But I was wrong. I walked and walked and walked a lot here. Even though I only visited one beach.

There are many beaches and caves along the coast between Cala Gonone and Tortolí, and there are two ways of accessing them. First is to walk and second is to take a boat. If you are unlucky and happen to be in the area on a windy day, then you are left with only one option, which is to walk.



I decided to leave town early in the morning and headed to Cala Luna. My host said that the path went through the woods and forest, so no worry about it being too hot at midday.

Either he was wrong, or there was a misunderstanding in our communication, the sun was burning down at me almost the whole 3 hours of my walk. I kept going on the dusty path, my hiking shoes covered in powdery dirt and I was sweating my body weight out. I was determined to go hiking today, not to go to the beach. Hence I didn’t even bring a towel with me. Although less than halfway through I couldn’t wait to jump into the cold water.

Walking down from the cliff to see light blue bay and white sandy beach, paradise felt much closer to me.



At last, I slowly walked down and headed towards the sea, through trees blossomed with pink flowers and a sign pointing out a way to the beach. It was just like I was about to discover paradise, just like in the movie The Beach.



To be honest, the beach at Cala Luna wasn’t that spectacular comparing to the effort I had to make to get there. There was no sandy beach but pebbles which hurt a little. What was a little bit more particular were the caves that you could go inside and hide from the sun while still looking out at the crystal blue sea.

What made I appreciate this place, ironically, was the fact that I had to walk 2 hours to get there. Soaked in my own sweat, at that point all I wanted was to jump into the sea.

And that was what I did.

Thing really worth more when they are harder to get. I really believe so.

At first, I was unsure if I should go to Santa Teresa because I didn’t have much time and everything felt like a rush. However, within less than 6 hours of being there, I already decided I would stay one more night.

What was it in Santa Teresa di Gallura that got me hooked?



After spending the last two days on the beach around Palau, just reading, eating and sleeping (maybe also swimming…occasionally), I started to get bored. Once I got to Santa Teresa, my host took me to Capo Testa that afternoon. I had heard about this place before but I didn’t really know what to expect. Turned out that there were rocks everywhere, and they were big enough that it was fun to climb up and down the rocks next to the sea.

So up and down we climbed, and I learned that I really liked being active. Beach holiday where you just lie there on the towel reading and talking just wasn’t my thing. It might be good for a day or two but then I would feel the need to move again. So the abundance of hiking trails in Capo Testa really got me hooked.



After that, we also hiked the nearby Valle della Luna, known for the hippy people who built their shelters there and stay all year long, or some that would camp there during the summer period, living in the wild and smoking weed just like that.



Apart from what it was famous for, though, the place was breathtakingly beautiful. As we entered the valley the sun was low over the horizon and the light was perfect. It seemed like this valley was under the spell. And once you got inside there were so many more hiking paths for you to discover. I decided to return to this place again next evening. It wasn’t a hard decision to make.

That night, I had a chance to sleep on a sailing boat. My Couchsurfing host rented out two apartments he had in town and he said if I wanted to stay I would have to sleep on a sailing boat with him. He asked if that would be okay for me and of course I said yes. How often would you get to sleep on a sailing boat like this?



He brought some prawns and vegetables for dinner. So after I got back from my hike that night, we made our way to the boat and started to grill our dinner right there, on the boat, surrounded by seawater. It was such a memorable experience.

I slept in the little cabin that night and he on the mattress on a bench outside. The small sailing boat consisted of the ‘bedroom’ I was in, a tiny toilet, small living room and an area designated for cooking. It was what I imagined sleeping in a converted can would be like, just that this was on the water instead of solid ground. The waves and wind made the boat rocked a little like I was in a baby clot, just perfect to put me to sleep.



Waking up on the boat wasn’t bad either, because as soon as you woke up, you were just there, surrounded by other boats, out in the fresh open air as the smell of seawater hit your nose and the morning sunshine hit your skin. It was a great experience but not the most comfortable way to live.

I think I would opt for a van life though…as soon as I learn how to drive that is.