After I left my job last year, I was thinking what to do with all the sudden freedom I had. For a year or so I had been piling up a lot of stress and unwanted negativity at work: doing way too much (unpaid) extra hours (in a job description normally under ”go the extra mile” – well, it seems I was running like Forrest Gump!), not having any time for myself… I needed to go somewhere to relax, re-charge and re-think what to do next.
As always, in front of my eyes, my mind was projecting colourfully as ever myself in the most dramatic scenes: travelling from Brazilian Manaos to Colombian Leticia on a run-down boat over the Amazon river, preferably risking my life (and getting away with it, of course); dancing frenetically around a bonfire in an African tribal village; learning indigenous languages in Mexico; getting stuck in a snowstorm while on a journey on the Trans-Siberian railway…
And just when I was about to go crazy, I received a message saying hi from a girl I had met three years before at a party in Zagreb. We practically saw each other only that time, talked for a while and have maintained sporadic contact ever since. After telling her about my persuit of a new adventure, she told me that I should come to the Azores.
Azores? So little did I know about these islands that I first had to google them… and zoom in quite a bit until I spotted them! Oh yeah… there they were, in the middle of the Atlantic ocean… nine small almost imperceptible dots… in between two worlds… nowhere and everywhere at the same time – it was perfect! A couple of days later, I was in Ponta Delgada, in São Miguel, the largest island.
The thing I liked best about discovering the Azores islands one by one was looking for a ”home”. The breath-taking nature all around, looking still and quiet as an enchanted landscape on a paiting, suspended somewhere in a parallel universe, out of human reach – it was the home I needed.
So, every day for almost three months I was trekking to the absolutely most amazing places to put up my tent and spend a night. It goes without saying that every place I came across was indeed ridiculously stunning (and I’m not exaggerating!), but there is one that I remember particularly well because it seriously challenged my fearlessness.
I was in Santa Maria island, walking through the red desert ”O Barreiro da Faneca” – plains covered in red soil, on top of the steep rocky slopes surrounded by the ocean at the bottom. I could hear the mighty waves crushing against the rocks and I could see white foam spreading around. The sun was coming down so I hurried to put up my tent – there was plenty of space and not a single soul around – not even cows, my most faithful travel companions in the Azores.
I was looking for them and I started feeling certain uneasiness since I could see them only far away in the distance. They were standing on a hill, approaching in an almost ceremonial way, one by one, the edge of the precipice and gazing at the sunset for a moment before they finally turned away and slowly disappeared behind the hill. When the last cow said her goodbye, I was left alone.
As the wind slowly started rising, so did my uneasiness start turning into fear but I had to stay up to drama so, instead of putting my tent anywhere far away from the edges that led to the roaring sound of the sea, I put it on a perfect spot, as if prepared by nature only for me that night, right at the pointiest edge overlooking the precipice. I contemplated the last sunbeams of another ceremonial Azorean sunset fade out in front of me, while absorbing all the subtle warmth, light and comfort they provided. Then I was on my own in a complete dark.
It was a long night – the wind was approaching from every direction, as if a stranger were slowly threading on the dry sun-burnt grass right towards my tent (of course). The waves, dark and persistent in their roar, kept reminding me of how close I was to the edge. Not a single light anywhere. No houses, no people. But I ”survived”.
Why I push myself to the limits like this, literally? We all talk about getting out of our comfort zones in order to experience something new, but do we really do it? Because booking a flight and a nice hotel room in some exotic country doesn’t really sound like it. I guess for me the only way to do it is to really push yourself out of the comfort to actually feel uncomfortable!
What’s the point? Well, you feel and learn (again). The next morning, when I woke up with dawn…
I felt proud of myself. I reminded myself that most of my fears are just ghosts that vanish with the slightest beams of light. I just have to be patient and trust the light.
I felt respectful and grateful towards the nature and its both healing and destructive power. I should not underestimate it or take it for granted.
I felt I could do anything after that. How could anybody or anything hold me back after facing and challenging that precipice?
To sum up, in this situation it was easy to notice my feelings (something we should actually be taught in schools how to do). I was feeling; I was aware of what I was feeling and I learned from the feelings I felt. So, you tell me – how do you manage to bring about this kind of learning in the comfort zone, in your everyday life where most of the things tend to be controlled, programmed, planned and foreseen just to prevent any kind of discomfort? I guess you could manage, but it would require a great deal of (self)awareness and consciousness.
See full photo gallery from the trails I did in the Azores!
