A Winter Pause: Notes from the Longest Night
Where I am is where I need to be
Happy Solstice, from Cornwall!
I was meant to be on a flight to Havana around now, but that plan had to be cancelled for reasons too annoying to get into… so instead of learning salsa and sightseeing in pastel vintage cars, here I am in Polperro, a sleepy, adorable coastal village in Cornwall. I’m watching fishermen return with the day’s catch before heading off to enjoy a warm scone with jam and cream (jam first, obviously - as Cornish tradition dictates).
And I have to say: it’s not so bad after all.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a truly quiet holiday. Most years I’m either travelling, hosting, or doing some combination of the two. Last year, I was touring Andalucía and spent Christmas in Málaga and New Year in Granada.
This year is different. Unusually so. And, unexpectedly, the introvert in me is very much looking forward to it.
Things I’m planning to do include resting, a lot. Reading a stack of books I’ve been meaning to read for months, catching up on my favourite TV shows, and baking bread. Slow mornings, late evenings, and nowhere I need to be. Bliss.
I will also use this time to reflect on the year that’s coming to an end - a year that challenged me in ways I didn’t fully anticipate. It was the year I stepped away from my corporate career after two decades so I could travel and write more. Ironically, it was also the year I travelled the least, as I navigated emotional highs and lows, moments of wild euphoria followed by stretches of fear and uncertainty - while trying to find my footing, and myself.
And yet, creatively, it’s been one of the most expansive years I can remember.
Finding Substack at exactly the moment I needed it, and giving myself permission to write without chasing algorithms or trends unlocked something I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed. The past eight months have felt like a slow but exhilarating adventure: writing more honestly, experimenting freely, and rediscovering the joy of thinking out loud on the page, all while being supported by wonderful individuals I met on this platform.
I’m still finding my voice, but I’m no longer afraid of getting it wrong. That freedom is what led me to rebrand from Awakened Voyages to In Transit. I didn’t want this space to become another blog about the “top ten things to see” somewhere. I wanted it to reflect what truly matters to me: travel as a lifestyle, with all its joys, tensions, and in-between moments.
And I’m so happy that this pivot resonated with so many of you. Your responses have been incredibly affirming, and in just the past two weeks, I have welcomed sixty new readers to this space.
Writing through all of this would have felt very different if I’d been doing it alone. What made this journey genuinely rewarding so far is the people who found their way here. People who are curious, thoughtful, and generous in how they engage. Readers who don’t just skim, but pause, reflect, and add their own nuance to the conversation.
That’s not something I take lightly. And it’s the main reason I wanted to pause here, before the year ends, to say thank you.
A few conversations that stayed with me
Many of you reflected on presence, context, and why loving a place doesn’t always mean wanting to return.
I love how this piece resonated with so many of you and sparked one of the most thoughtful exchanges. Proof that many of us are yearning for freedom, space, and a deeper connection to ourselves.
This one tapped into a deeper conversation about how travel inspiration can sometimes blur into obligation - a reminder that thoughtful curiosity matters more than chasing trends.
Looking ahead
Moving on to my New Year’s resolutions. Just kidding! I can’t stand them.
The word itself feels heavy with unrealistic expectations and false hope. In my experience at least, resolutions often lead to guilt and frustration by mid-January. Instead, I’ve learned to set small, meaningful intentions.
Things like blocking out one hour a week to learn a new skill or work through a course. Remembering to water my plants before they turn brown. Making a genuine effort to reconnect with a friend, and actually following through, rather than sending another “we should catch up soon” message.
They may sound laughably small. But they make a meaningful difference to my mental equilibrium- precisely because I can commit to them, and hold myself accountable.
For this publication, going into the new year, I’m curious to explore ideas such as what happens when we travel less, but with more intention. Hotels chosen for atmosphere rather than hype. The difference between movement and momentum - and how often we confuse the two.
What I’m letting go of
These are adjustments I’ve already begun to make over the past few years - and ones I’m committed to continuing.
The idea that more movement automatically creates more meaning.
The pressure to turn every trip into something productive or worth documenting.
Being drawn to places because they’re being talked about, rather than because they truly spark my curiosity.
Comparing my pace- in travel, in work, in life- to anyone else’s.
And perhaps most importantly, letting go of the belief that stepping back means falling behind.
What I’m leaning into
Trusting my creative instincts, particularly the shy ones that don’t make immediate sense or promise instant results.
Treating rest and slowness as essential to the work, not obstacles to it.
Taking up more space - in my writing, in conversations, in rooms I’ve earned the right to be in.
Staying loyal to curiosity over certainty, even when the latter feels safer.
Being patient with my own unfolding, knowing that meaningful work rarely follows a linear timeline.
Windy beach walks are my favourite
So here's to a slower season, wherever you are. Thank you for reading, for engaging, and for being part of this evolving space. I'm grateful you're here, and I'm excited to see what unfolds as we move into the new year - together, and in transit.
Wishing you warmth, rest, and whatever kind of holiday feels right for you.
This was so nice to read this morning. Been realizing that slowing down does not mean standing completely still.
So beautifully written. Your newsletter has been an inspiration and I love reading your reflections on the places you visit. Thank you and enjoy your holiday.