The Countries Where I Cried When Leaving

Leaving. Departing. Moving on. So many heartbreaks that mark the journey. But some departures are more painful than others...

Some trips leave a more profound mark on us. Why? It's impossible to pinpoint a single reason. A special atmosphere. Touching encounters. Rejuvenating landscapes. Exquisite cuisine...

Here's my intimate account of 6 places in the world where I left a piece of my soul...

Patagonia etched itself into my heart. A revelation I never expected. I wasn't ready to fall in love with these desolate lands at the edge of the world... But one doesn't choose to fall in love, with a person or a region. Words are not enough to explain this paranormal phenomenon that shakes up our rational minds. Even today, I can't help but feel nostalgic thinking of those distant lands, and especially Puerto Deseado. A unique pause in our journey Back To America. By an improbable twist of fate, one of those encounters you only have a few times in your life, we landed at the headquarters of the Conociendo Nuestra Casa (Knowing Our Home) Foundation after a trip themed around Game Of Thrones in Northern Ireland. The ways of destiny are impenetrable. As often happens, a beautiful encounter is the start of a positive chain of events, one that makes you want to believe in the goodness of humanity. It's how we met Ricardo and his daughter, Flor. A family welcome. For them, the > is no longer a polite formula but a genuine generosity that flows naturally. No need for words to describe those moments of complicity and laughter, those shared meals, or those long hours of closeness in their car traveling through the Patagonian roads. A glance is enough, especially with Ricardo. So proud... And so modest at the same time. But we weren't naive: his big heart couldn't be hidden behind his little shell. A shell that prevented us from crying a week later when the call of the road was felt again. > Yes... And she wouldn't be the only one. A firm handshake saves us from emotional outpourings. We both know that goodbyes are painful. But I couldn't hold back for long. As soon as we turned the corner, tears escaped...

Another beautiful twist of fate! During our second trip to Peru, two years ago, we found ourselves in Nasca in a small dented car with two other travelers. Italians. Sicilians, even!

A few exchanged words were enough to make us want to share their journey. Of course, when you start talking about Sicilian cuisine with François, it's almost too easy!

We spent several days together. In Cuzco, Aguas Calientes, and at Machu Picchu.

Upon returning from our visit to the famous Incan site, we celebrated a unique moment in their relationship's history: they symbolically married at the Temple of the Sun. In complete discretion: a promise from one person to another. An exchanged ring and the desire to signify their intent to unite their destinies. A well-chosen location for these two lovers of travel and history (one of them is an archaeologist!).

At the moment of our goodbyes in Peru, an invitation was extended, like a final challenge:

Whenever you want, you'll always be welcome at our place in Sicily. We'll take you to eat the best pizza on the island!

François couldn't resist such a proposal. A few weeks later, in the utmost secrecy, he organized a surprise trip for my birthday.

But the story doesn't stop there! Once in our friends' apartment, they welcomed us with open arms and showed us their small studio... Then they handed us the keys and pretended to leave.

We had never met anyone as kind as the Sicilians (or maybe the people of El Salvador? But that's another story I'll tell you later!). Our friends, given the small size of their apartment, decided to leave us the space and spent a few days living in a friend's guest room! And it doesn't stop there. In addition to receiving the key to their home, we received the key to their scooter!

We spent delicious moments with them (and the promised pizza lived up to our expectations!). Yes, here too, I cried when I left. Unreservedly, without hesitation. Just like our hosts, with tears being generous and unreserved.

Why does this island leave such a mark on the minds of travelers who have stayed there? This mystery haunted me... Until I set foot on this island at the edge of the world.

Such a welcoming aura! A wave of gentle warmth enveloping us from the first moments and not leaving us until the return flight took off eight days later.

The flower garlands received at the airport are just one sign among many. The sweet nonchalance of the Easter Island inhabitants, coupled with their Polynesian roots and their great smiles, immediately sets the tone.

In few places in the world have we felt so instantly at home. So much so!

Eight days may seem long to visit this little island, known for its desolation and emptiness. And yet... We didn't want to leave!

When leaving the small cabin where we stayed the last few days, the owner came to say goodbye... And offered each of us a shell necklace. The kind you can only find on the island.

So you won't forget us, she adds. To bring you luck and ensure you return to our island.

One day, we promise we will come back...

But for now, gentle and warm tears fell on my cheeks as we turned our backs on the village to head to the airport.

Another island that inspires dreams... And rightly so! The Galapagos are to this day what we found to be closest to paradise on Earth!

As part of a volunteer project, we stayed 6 weeks on San Cristobal Island. Six weeks that passed at an astonishing speed. Yet, during the last days, as we gradually said our goodbyes, we realized how much we felt at home. We felt part of the island and the village.

Greeting the clerk at the small store, petting the neighbor's dog that came to welcome us, waving at the children on the sidewalk across the street, visiting Pepe the tortoise, enjoying a frozen banana treat facing the sea alongside sea lions... Habits that quickly became so natural and that are so hard to let go of at the moment of departure!

For this first long-term journey, we had no planned return date, only a budget limit:

When we run out of money, we go home!

And when we arrived in the Galapagos, one choice became clear to us: to take or not take a diving course? A choice that found its answer as soon as the question was posed: discovering the underwater world of the island had a price we were willing to pay, even if it meant shortening our stay... Which we had to do. The Galapagos marked the end of our first Latin American adventure.

Returning to the continent also meant returning to Europe and the end of our first long-term journey.

I will always remember my last ice cream on the seafront promenade of San Cristobal, where I cried every tear from my body, surrounded by pelicans and sea lions...

There are encounters that are extraordinary... And this one is one such. The meeting of a family with an incredible destiny and, above all, the story of a father during the Salvadoran civil war.

An encounter that proves that heroes are not just characters from fiction populating novels and films. Some are flesh and blood, unknown to the public, living in complete anonymity. And such is the case with my Salvadoran hero.

This hero's name is Antonio. For those who read Spanish and travel in Central America, try to find the book that tells of his struggle: > (To Break the Silence - Resistance and Struggle in Salvadoran Prisons), written by Claribel Alegria and D.J. Flakoll.

It's practically impossible to find. And I was lucky enough to receive it from Antonio himself, with this dedication that touched my heart:

Para Amandine y François, con mucho cariño y admiración, Antonio

For Amandine and François, with love and admiration, Antonio

? It's a strange world! This man deserves admiration from all his peers! But that's how he is: humble, turning towards others and the merits of the community, rather than individualism and competition.

I lack the words to speak of this man. So, I decided to share a short excerpt from the book >, a note from the authors to clarify their work:

Tono (Antonio) has a tendency, dictated by his revolutionary humility, to almost always speak in the third person and in plural. He only uses > when absolutely necessary. He prefers to say > or >.

A gentle look and bright intellect, a limitless generosity... We were welcomed like family at Antonio's. Here, no need for the formula >... because we are at home! Not a false note in the picture. We felt so much at home that we didn't want to leave...

Without any shame, I cried when leaving their small house, just as humble as the family it shelters...

Travel far, travel long: a dream that won't let go. And even if we leave, we already think about the next trip. Our first long-term trip dates back six years. We waited (almost) patiently for five long years before setting off for several. Our plan: >. A year to discover the Americas from South to North.

Except that...

Except that, long-term plans, even when it comes to travel (or especially when it comes to travel?), are difficult to maintain. The unforeseen. The chances of the road. Encounters. The urge for spontaneity...

Change of plans: we decided to cut our sabbatical year in half. After spending 6 months in Latin America, we are leaving the New World to return to the > (and take the opportunity to attend the Travel Bloggers' Fair... and nab the Trophy! But that's another story!).

Our point of return: Mérida.

Mérida: this city did me so much good! After the > atmosphere of the Riviera Maya and the long wait in Cancún (for a part for my broken computer), the colonial city of Mérida was like a second breath. With its alleys, main square, old churches, colorful buildings, and human scale... Phew! We can breathe (despite the heat spikes!).

But upon arriving in Mérida, I already had a nostalgic spirit: I knew the end was approaching.

Mérida is the beginning of the end.

But Mérida also bears the promise of a return to the promised land. The desire to continue this unfulfilled journey in Mexico. Yes, I was happy to return to Europe to see my loved ones... But I admit, when the plane wheels left the ground, I could not hold back my tears any longer.

I know, I know... I am quite sentimental. I cry while reading some books or watching certain films that sometimes touch me to such an extent that I cannot bear to watch them again, even (or especially) if they are beautiful.

But contrary to what one might believe from these few stories, I rarely cry while traveling. Even if every stage that ends is a page that turns and inexorably announces the end of the journey (and the accompanying depression that often follows)...

Goodbyes for me are temporary steps: > and rarely goodbyes. I don't need a fixed you or material markers. Human warmth is my only necessity.

... And that is also my main weakness. The > beautiful encounters are real emotional traps!

And you, have you ever succumbed to the traps of travel to the point of crying? Any travel anecdotes to share?