We don’t get to change life everyday. Changing life – that is, changing place, changing job, changing habits. Leaving the people we love behind, closing the door on the place we’ve called home, knowing we won’t be back anytime soon.

This summer, I have packed my Spanish life, my sailing life, and driven away.

And then, a couple of weeks later, I have arrived in Austria. Far from the sea, far from the city. In a town out of a fairy tale, caught between the mountains. For a job made of flying bikes, mad jumpers, baseball hats and funky adventures.

The moment I reached my new home, I knew it. I knew the change was bigger than expected. It’s strange, because I am still in Europe, I am still writing about sports and I still drink red wine.

Nothing has changed.

Everything has changed.

The language – das ist nicht easy, ya ya ya. The people, the company, the projects. The culture, the schnitzels, the beer, the check shirts and the leather trousers. The rules, the paperwork, the residency permits, this new frame I need to fit in.

This new life I want to love – I already love.

Practicalities are not what define us, facts don’t guide our lives. Despite seriously needing a washing machine, a flat of my own and a French cheese platter, despite ignoring what lies ahead, I am where and who I want to be. In the making.