wanderlust in our DNA

I like to think that there is something in our blood, our souls, our very beings that make so many of us so in love with new places, so eager to travel and visit and explore. But there is something equally rooted that instills a love for our hometowns or at least our homes - the places we were born and raised. And no matter how fervently we dream of far-away cities, maybe the most beautiful thing of all is our own towns. (A video I put together):

I'm Kinga, a video-maker - because it combines my two passions, photography and words - and a blogger. I write, I read, I over-think, I dream of living across the ocean in London while learning to love the city I live in. (You can frequently find me here, on my youtube channel.)

a change of scenery.

Some favourite moments from Camp Arnes in October. 

Not Pictured:

• Backpacks and garbage bags piled up to the ceiling on The Little Bus Who (barely) Could
• Boys jumping in the lake. In the minus twenty. At night. For the last cookie. 
• S'mores in the dining hall. 
• Girl talk in Room Seven.
• Evenings for courage and crying together.
• Dutch Blitz madness.

Summers at Arnes are summers from my childhood. This year we came at the root of winter. Old friends, new friends, and old friends who became new friends once more; they fuelled the weeks to come. I feel like when we 'just need to get away', it's not the people we need to get away from. Sometimes we just need a change of scenery to change our perspectives. 

--

Abbey

a German Christmas market

Does it get more Christmassy than the Christmas market in Munich, with the smells of gluhwein and lebkuchen, and the soft glow of Christmas lights, and the light flurries of snow that sticks? They are such a festive treat. On Sundays, all the shops are closed in the city, and there's such a relaxed and truly joyful feel in the air. Families wander around markets with hot pancakes to warm up their cold hands, and everyone is ready to chat to you. There is something beautiful everywhere you look, and rich colours that look even better against the bleak December landscape. It's everything December ought to be.

xx
L

adventures in solitude.

35mm film from Colorado + Arizona.

the thing about traveling

The funny thing about traveling is, when every day routine and familiar surroundings and knowing-what-to-expect has all been stripped away, you are left with just the essence of your soul. Without distractions, you only have what's in front of you to fill you up and maybe break you down. And when you're sitting in front of the Eiffel Tower crying, futilely wiping away tears with the back of your hand as they fall faster, everything makes brutal sense and at the same time no sense at all. But the best thing about traveling is that, in the midst of the walking and the talking and the street lights blinking from green to yellow to red, you might just find yourself.

cc

tiny stories from the big city

I just got back from my holiday, and one of the things that struck me most was the sheer volume of  New Yorkers going about their daily lives. They were running errands, going to work, and living the kind of life that called NYC home. Everyone clearly had their own reasons for being there. Their own explanations for their actions. Their own stories to tell. And my family loved the people-watching. Living in a city like New York is so different to living in a village like ours and I for one grabbed any moment I could to step back, pause, and watch the 'show'.
Several people and situations interested more than others. There was one woman I saw swapping her flat shoes for patent heels around the corner from an office block. What was her job? Where was she walking from that she couldn't wear heels? Or just wear flats at work?
Then there's the stunning habadashery shop that we happened upon, filled with colourful and sparkly trim, run by two relatively dressed-down women. I was curious as to how you could resist trimming everything you owned with lime green pompoms, working in a place like that. I wondered if there were actually crazy buttons or funky trims on their clothes, hidden by the counter or the apron.
I even got distracted in a bookstore, one place where I'm normally completely and utterly absorbed in my shopping! A boy and his dad were walking up and down the aisles, as they collected a growing stack of dystopiaN fiction and paranormal novels. I wondered if they were all for the boy, or if his father was a fan and they were bonding over it. Had they read some of the few dystopian novels that I had enjoyed? And did the scarier elements leave them awake at night too, wondering about the world?
Most of what I saw sparked stories in my brain, and I also instantly tried to connect myself in some way to those people who interested me. I couldn't help but be curious about the whys and wherefores. Whenever I travel, there are certain people that I remember. Ones I had just briefly passed on the street, but that were so representative of a trip that I can't forget them.
Do you have any people-watching stories to tell?
xx
L

now and then || roadtrip flashbacks

Now, it's a quiet room; fan whirring, two lamps on, and stars twinkling outside the window.
Then, it was a quiet night; crickets chirping, one camping light on, and the same stars twinkling overhead.
Now, it's a (mostly) clean car driving short distances in town.
Then, it was a car cramped with supplies and dust picked up along the way, driving impossibly far on impossibly straight roads.
Now, it's a soft bed and a regulated temperature.
Then, it was a slippery sleeping bag and toes on warm sand.
Now, it's memories.
Then, it was life.

counting down the days to the next roadtrip.
C

let's go to the beach

The beach is always a good idea. My extended family have just spent the bank holiday weekend in Swanage, Dorset. I've built sandcastles, played rounders, and eaten umpteen icecreams. Over the past four days, I have also seen more flags and bunting than ever before, watched some crazy relatives swim, and laughed so hard my stomach hurts.

Let's go to the beach again soon, okay? 

itching for Woodland

May rolls around and with it comes a longing for Woodland. Woodland, the little resort on a lake that we've been going to for years -- in fact, my mom has been going up there since she was eight. This will be my seventeenth year. For one week, all my family (parents, siblings, cousins, aunts, uncle, grandparents) head up to the lake and live simply. We laugh more. We fish and play card games and go swimming and get sunburnt and make good, simple food, and have wars with noodles (we're talking about the floating on the water kind here), and roast s'mores over a campfire under a sky filled with stars. And when June comes, we'll be heading up there. So it's no surprise that this whole month, I've been itching for Woodland. It leaves a happy ache in my heart just thinking about it, and I may have a countdown made.

Do you have any family traditions and vacations that you can't wait for?

Much love.
H

a different part of california.

I've been to California numerous times to visit family, but usually my trips have been restricted to the more northern parts of the state. Last week, though, I ventured into the infamous metropolis that is Los Angeles.

It was, in a word, huge. I've said before that I'm a city girl, but this almost made me rethink that. If this is a real city, maybe I'm just more of a smaller urban environment girl. I like the variety and all the things to do, but it just felt a bit overwhelming at times, and it took forever to get from one place to another, giving me a whole new perspective on traffic. There were so many people and cars! But, who am I to complain? All of that aside, I greatly enjoyed my time in the city. I saw loads of art + architecture, went shopping (always a plus!), and ate a lot of great food. I got to see lots of things I'd only heard about or seen in movies or on TV. Oh, and I took some pictures.

Kendall