The Return Anxiety
After the first week in the van, the second Sardinian week awaited me in solitude in Nebida. I had chosen this enchanting small village for its incredible cliffs: rocks that faded from purple to green, probably metallic, fascinating like geological works of art. Long paths perched on cliffs overlooking the sea, sea stacks and islets that gave the landscape an almost American coast appearance. It didn't even look like the Sardinia we're used to, the one with mega postcard beaches.
A week of remote work where every break became an excursion. The house was just a minute away from the village's "belvedere" walk, which led to the "Laveria". A fascinating place not only for the historic building, but also for the tunnels carved into the rock that told stories of a now silent industrial past.

The Path to Pan di Zucchero
When Saturday finally arrived, I could dedicate myself to the trek I had been waiting for months: a section of the Santa Barbara Trail, until reaching the Pan di Zucchero islet. Between 30 and 40 kilometers, but the most challenging part was climbing the promontory. Literally a climbing wall that fortunately had, on its outer part, a trail of several kilometers with a good 600 meters of elevation gain and several points perched over the sea.
If the entire area hadn't been frequented by climbers, I would never have dared to attempt such a trek alone. The risks could have been multiple, but fortunately everything went well.

It was an unforgettable experience. At certain moments I felt I was pushing my body to a physical limit never reached before. It was the first time I faced such a demanding trek, and despite the pain in the following days, I pleasantly realized something important: after losing over twenty kilos in two years, I now felt almost physically indestructible. A resistance I could count on during travels, even though I always try not to overdo it when reaching limits, especially when traveling alone.

When the Mind Opens
As happens in all long solo treks in nature, the mind begins to bring out uncomfortable questions and parts of ourselves we didn't think we had. I spent the entire return afternoon immersed in one of the most beautiful sunsets I've ever seen in my life, but with the constant thought of rejection towards returning home, to the usual routine, in the usual place.

An incredible discomfort was created in me that day, what I could define as "return anxiety." I realized for the first time in an absolute way, without knowing the complete reason (and I'm still not sure I fully know it), that my life, at least at that moment, needed to exist outside of daily routine.
Don't misunderstand me: I don't hate routines. On the contrary, I love routines, especially healthy ones. But I realized I had the need to create and readapt my routines to different places whenever I felt like it. The greatest awareness was that outside my comfort zone, traveling, wherever it may be, in new conditions, with new people or even alone, my person grew exponentially compared to the simple and linear growth at home.

The Weight of Labels
Initially it was a convulsive thinking between excitement for this new awareness, confusion about how to realize such a life, and fear of society's challenges and criticisms. At that moment I felt closer to the figure of the digital nomad, even though I don't like giving labels, especially to myself.
I already have enough labels that society associates with me, pleasant or not depending on the point of view. Having a label like this has important weight. Society today sees the digital nomad only and exclusively through what is shown on social media: photos of laptops on Bali beaches at sunset, perfect breakfasts on terraces with breathtaking views, trendy coworking spaces in Lisbon or Mexico City, last-minute flights to exotic destinations documented with polished stories. A constant narrative of absolute freedom, economic success and personal fulfillment that makes this life seem like an accessible dream without shadows.

I feel very fortunate to be able to have a certain type of life, but I'm also aware that behind this polished representation there are more complex aspects that are rarely shown. But this topic deserves an in-depth analysis that I'll reserve for upcoming stories.

📻 Soundtrack
📻 Colonna Sonora

🎵 Caricamento...
YouTube Music
I dedicate this to my November 2024 self and to all young people facing difficult uncertainties in life. "Haengro" by Jung Daehyun speaks exactly about what I experienced on that Nebida promontory: these are the words I would have wanted to hear during that convulsive thinking, when I was torn between excitement and confusion. To stop asking too many questions about the world and the future, and return to chasing the pure dreams of childhood. As the song says, "you can't know the world's answer," but we can always get back up and believe in our wild dreams, those we had as children without conditioning. I used to listen to Jung Daehyun when I was a teenager, and discovering this new song of his just while writing about that transformation experienced in Sardinia seemed perfect. It became the ideal soundtrack for telling that moment when I understood I had to leave the footprints of my unique step, even if someone will say I was wrong. I deeply thank him for creating this Japanese anime opening for my current life! 🎵🎶