It was such a relief to meet Alex again; we hadn’t seen each other for over 12 years, probably more, since I joined up. We grew up together in Brussels in the late '90s, early 2000s. Our youth was a mix of European technocracy and dabbling even fingering with criminality. Brussels in those days was wild, hash from Morocco, ecstasy from Holland, and a booming underground techno scene was too hard to resist for our young and curious souls.

The storm that chased me from the Dolomites continued to pursue me across the Balkans. I was set to head to the coast as fast as possible to escape the rain and soggy boots. But, as is often the case, no plan survives contact; or as Mike Tyson so eloquently put it, "Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face."

Departures are never easy; they signify change, stepping away from something, someone, somewhere. Going somewhere new and having to say goodbye—a bittersweet mix. Just getting to the departure line was a test in itself. Having partied a bit too much a few nights before leaving to celebrate the removal of my kidney stone, I let procrastination get the better of me and left some of my admin to be done at the last minute.

Kidney stone removed, gear repacked, keys to apartment to be handed in to my landlord in the morning, tomorrow I go.

Couldn’t sleep yesterday, apprehension, doubts, firework of thoughts kicking off in my mind.

Had the last meal with my friends, the thumbs up from my therapist, I’m ready. Everytime I hug or spend time with loved ones I’m assaulted by doubts. I calm myself down and remember that they’ll be in my heart throughout this, this is not a goodbye, it’s a see you later on the road!

Well, there I was days from departing, my gear ready, my motorcycle prepared. My mind as resolute as it could be. The start of my adventure was within reach, I could feel it! I had packed all my belongings; sold all the stuff I didn’t need. My nights were consumed by the departure. I had handed in my last bits of my military equipment a few days before, itself a strange feeling of letting go. The shedding of my old self had begun.

All stories start with a call to adventure, but before that happens there’s normality or the ordinary world: what we know, who we are, the normal, the comfortable place within one is yet compelled to leave….

My normality was being a soldier for fourteen years, one might say that was an adventure in itself. Sadly it was one that took its toll on me.