Our Journey

Autumn has arrived in Germany, and with it, a quiet shift — from harvesting peppers to digging through memories on the attic floor.

The garden is taking its last deep breath before winter. The final peppers and Aji Amarillo still cling to the last bits of sunshine, bright and defiant against the chill. Soon they’ll end up in jars — a little taste of warmth for the colder months ahead. The beds are cleared, the tools are cleaned, and there’s a sense of completion in the air. 🌶️🍁

Inside, the rhythm changes. The attic has become its own kind of jungle — not of vines, but of boxes. It’s incredible what a few cardboard layers can hide: toys from the ’90s, half-forgotten CDs, maybe even a glimpse of who we once were. Every item tells a story, and each story asks: what still belongs to the future, and what stays behind?

And while the garden rests and the attic awakens, bureaucracy waits on the horizon. The first documents for the move are due soon — forms, applications, translations, stamps. A different kind of harvest, one that takes patience instead of soil. But each step brings us closer to where we want to be: deep in the Selva, where the next chapter begins. 🌿✈️

The season is shifting — and so are we. From late harvests to new beginnings, it’s all part of the journey. Keep your fingers crossed that the paperwork flows as smoothly as the rivers of Peru. More updates soon from our road to the jungle 🌎💚

Some nights we camp out with frogs and frying pans. Other days it’s translation hell, goodbye piles and tough decisions.

---

We’re officially in the in-between zone. Too far from our old life to feel settled — not quite in Peru yet to feel free. So what do we do?

We fish. We sleep outside. We wake up to sunrise over the Elbtalaue and make breakfast next to the river — eggs, coffee, a bit of fresh fish. And mosquitoes. Lots of them 🦟

Those nights recharge the soul. But then we come back and it’s:

„Do we really need five whisks?“
„Why do we still own 23 mugs?“
„Is this paperwork translated yet?“

The sorting is endless. Some things go to the flea market. Others to friends. Some go in the „maybe we’ll need it in Peru“ pile… which is now five piles. 😅

On the admin front, it’s passport scans, medical forms, insurance exits, and telling every German company ever, „No, I won’t be reachable by post anymore.“

But there’s a fire burning under all this — a wild excitement. Peru is becoming more real. The network is growing: new contacts, new friends, even a few business opportunities.

We’re planting seeds now we hope will grow deep in the Selva 🌿

While chaos brews across the globe, our little green sanctuary explodes with fruit, fire, and feathers.

---

Let’s be honest — turning on the news these days feels like reading the script of a really bad apocalyptic sitcom. Wars, climate drama, inflation, digital nonsense… and somewhere in between someone’s yelling about AI stealing our jobs. 😅

Meanwhile, we’re standing in our garden with berry-stained hands and a chili-induced runny nose, wondering:

„Is it just us, or does nature seem to be doing just fine?“

Right now, the garden is exploding. Literally. The plum tree is drooping under its own weight. Tomatoes are sunbathing themselves into flavor bombs. Raspberries sneak up overnight. Our chilis? Oh, they’re glowing like little red weapons and attacking unprepared taste buds without warning.

We’ve been harvesting like maniacs — cooking up jam, boiling syrups, freezing juice, even fermenting a few wild things „just to try.“ It’s sweaty, sticky, deeply satisfying work.

And as if that wasn’t enough: we’ve got a fresh generation of birds learning how to fly around us. It’s noisy, clumsy, and utterly hilarious.

While the world argues with itself, our corner of it just… grows. And it’s teaching us every day what really matters: slow mornings, dirty hands, and the joy of watching something come alive 🌱

Date: July 2025
Location: Somewhere between the German bureaucracy and our dreams of the jungle

---

Let’s face it: moving to the middle of the Peruvian rainforest isn’t something you do on a quiet Tuesday afternoon.

It’s July 2025, and while we’re still surrounded by German efficiency, grey skies, and slightly suspicious Bratwurst, our minds are already 12,000 km away – somewhere between an ox-cart in Oxapampa and a hammock swaying gently in the jungle breeze.

But before we trade bureaucracy for banana trees, there’s a hell of a to-do list.

---

The Great Paper Chase

Germany loves paperwork. And when you tell people you’re moving to Peru, their eyes light up — not with envy, but with concern.
„Have you thought about your insurance?“ Yes. We’ve cancelled it. All of it.
Health, dental, liability — gone.
We’re flying into the jungle naked (on paper, at least).

Documents? Being translated.
Mietvertrag? Terminated.
Auto? Still sitting there like an old friend we need to break up with.
Banking? We’ve got more new accounts now than friends on Facebook.

It’s a beautiful chaos. We’ve become part-time administrators and full-time dreamers.

---

Oxapampa: Our Future Home Base

Some people plan to backpack through South America. We, on the other hand, signed a rental contract in the cloud forest.

Oxapampa – the land of waterfalls, dairy cows, and jungly Austrian nostalgia – will be our home.
Yes, we found a place. Long-term. Remote. Green. Humid. Perfect.
The kind of town where strangers wave, nature roars, and the Wi-Fi probably works.

We’re not sure yet whether we’ll be farming, coding, crafting, or just swatting mosquitoes professionally – but we’ll figure it out.

---

The Countdown Begins

June 2026 is circled on the calendar. Bold. Red. Sacred.
That’s when it all starts – the flight, the leap, the „holy sh*t we actually did it“ moment.

Until then, we’ll keep prepping:
☑ Cancel this
☑ Translate that
☑ Sell the car
☐ Find the courage to say goodbye

---

So yeah. We’re not there yet.
But the jungle’s already calling.
And we’ve started listening.

---

🦋 Stay tuned for stories about packing, panicking, and planning the move of a lifetime.
📦 Next up: how to fit your entire life into two suitcases and a carry-on.