Where do I start?
I’ve started this post three different ways, and I keep landing back on the same question. Am I back, or am I just now arriving?
Because technically, yes, I’m back. Back from a long Chilean winter (USA summer) that felt more rushed than I planned it to, back at my desk, back to answering emails instead of watching the tide come in. But this is also my very first post on this blog, which means in a way I’m arriving here for the first time too. So let’s call it both. I’m back, and I’m arriving, and honestly that feels like the right way to start something new.
The Wineries, The Family, The Roof
Summer in Chile always means the same three things for me: wine, family, and at least one story I didn’t see coming.
The wine part was easy to love. I spent time at my uncle’s winery, Viña Casanueva in the Itata Valley walking rows of old pre phylloxera vines with my bestie of many years; Troy. There’s something about tasting a natural wine made from vines that old, in a valley that hasn’t tried to modernize itself into something it’s not, that reminds me why I do what I do. It’s not a discovery for me. It’s a homecoming, every single time.
The family part was the whole point of the trip, really. Long lunches that turned into long afternoons, everyone talking over each other. This was the first summer I got to really show my son where I come from, to let him sit at those tables and hear the stories and feel what it’s like to belong to a place before he can even fully explain why. That’s the part of Chile that doesn’t make it into a reel.
And then there was the roof.
I was renting a cozy cabin in Pichilemu when the region got hit with the worst wind and rain storms it had seen in thirty years. I wasn’t even home when it happened. I came back to find the roof had genuinely flown off. Not a leak, not a loose shingle, the actual roof. Add in a middle of the night earthquake for good measure, because apparently that’s just how Chile welcomes you home, and you’d think I’d have a complaint or two.
I don’t, actually. I keep coming back to how thankful I am for the whole messy, beautiful stretch of it. The wine, the family, the roof that tried to leave without me. All of it is why I love this life I’ve built, the one where I get to keep saying yes to places that ask something of you in return for what they give you.
I Was On the Maison Voyage Podcast
While all of this was happening, I also got to sit down with Vanessa for an episode of the Maison Voyage Podcast, and it’s one of the nicest things that’s happened to X-Plora all year.
We talked about the Basque Country, why I build trips the way I do, and a wine trip through the region I’ve been quietly building for months. My friends at Basquelanders, the local experts who’ve spent countless hours teaching me the history of this beautiful part of Spain and that this is not a place you rush through. It felt less like an interview and more like two people who love the same kind of travel, comparing notes over coffee.
If you’ve got a walk to take or a coffee to sit with this weekend, go give it a listen. I think you’ll hear exactly why I build trips with soul, not spreadsheets, and maybe it’ll nudge something loose in you too.
Now, Onto Bali
I’m writing this with one eye already on the calendar, because Women Who Wonder: Bali is just a week away.
I’ve been building this trip for women who are tired of waiting for the “right time” to travel, and after a summer of wineries and family and a roof that reminded me nothing is guaranteed, I feel more ready than ever to lead this group somewhere that asks them to slow down too. The bags are almost packed. The final details are falling into place. And I could not be more thankful to be doing this work.
So here’s my question for you, the one I’ll be asking myself all week:
What would you finally say yes to, if you stopped waiting for the right time?
Come find your slow with me.
