Spring has arrived back in Barcelona, casting the softest light into my little cabin and the surrounding neighbourhood of El Born. A little photo series of a weekend spent with coffees and strawberries, with sunbathing my feet on the little balcony, strolling my streets endlessly and falling once anew for Barcelona’s sometimes bold, often subtle beauty at each and every corner. Advertisements
I have been living in Barcelona for almost four months now and I couldn’t be happier in my own little studio, enjoying coffee, breakfast, books and life on my own every weekend. So here is to procrastinating and to life in this bustling city behind the centuries-old stone walls. Worst I bring I have a dirty mind Oh, I need, I need new ways To waste my time I need new ways Worst I bring I live alone, alone, alone Worst I face Keep me inside, I need new ways To waste my time I need, I need new ways I’m trying to get out Find a subtle way out Not just cross myself out Not just disappear I’ve been trying to stay out But there’s something in you I can’t be without I just need it here Daughter – New Ways
I moved to Barcelona three weeks ago. This still feels strange to say. The reason you haven’t read anything or only little about this on my blog for now is that I have been quite busy settling in. Soaking in all the details of the city, marvelling at its architecture, tasting the delicious food and getting lost in the many alleys of the old town. However, there comes a time – the third weekend for me – where you don’t want to wander the city like a tourist anymore. And that’s ok. You know these first summer mornings where the weather looks so promising you’d have a bad conscience to stay inside even though you want nothing more than a lazy Sunday at home? I somewhat feel the same way with moving abroad. Barcelona has so very much to offer – despite the wonderful weather of course – that you can’t just spend the weekend inside. Can you? Yesterday a thunderstorm was approaching and I had just made it inside before heavy raindrops hit against …
It’s this time of year where even a snow enthusiast like me is craving for the first springy precursors. However, sub-zero temperatures seem to have settled in Amsterdam, so a cozy weekend was calling once more. As pancakes are a loyal companion on my photos and so many of you have asked me as to how I prepare them, find my recipe below this time. Otherwise feel free to indulge in those comfy pillows, strong cups of coffee and cabin-like wood details as I’m used to these days. Rural pancake recipe for the perfect cottage day at home: 1 egg 0,1 litre of almond milk 1 tsp. chia seeds 1 tsp. hemp powder (can easily be left out) 3 tablespoons of coconut blossom sugar 1 tsp. baking powder as much flour as needed to get a viscous batter (I like my pancakes to be thick but fluffy so the mix shouldn’t spread too much in the pan) any add-on or -ins you can think of (e.g. frozen berries, fresh fruits, nuts, cocoa nibs, granola …) …
One of my favourite things about travelling is finding a happy place along the road. And if there is no trip coming up in the seizable future (four weeks is still a long time to go for my liking), I have myself my own little cabin in the woods from time to time. Pancakes, big pots of coffee and wanderlusty dreams included.
Some grey autumn days simply call for a weekend of homeliness. Particularly if your man comes home from a long business trip, bringing along the most tasty coffee from Vietnam. Just imagine boiling water on coarsely ground coffee beans, exuding a chocolatey and nutty scent. I added on the smell of fresh waffles and a Sunday of slow living began. Sometimes it’s just the right ingredients you need for a perfectly cozy day. I for example can’t relax with my jeans or make-up on. But give me a onesie pyjama, a hot herbal tea and the new Kinfolk Home and I’m in. Here is my list of coziness helpers for you – from cuddy clothes to mindful readings: Oysho Clipper Teas Kinfolk Ignant The Future Kept Ravenscourt Apothecary
Autumn is gradually conquering Amsterdam. The springy buds make way for golden leaves and the city’s house facades merge in the grey setting. It’s my favourite time of year. An introvert soul, I enjoy these cosy days at home, reading books under the blanket, wearing knitted pullovers and socks, sipping on hot teas and strong coffees and turning on Netflix now and then. It’s all about those slow, quiet moments. And slow breakfasts. A Sunday starting with a stack of homemade buckwheat pancakes with late-summer blackberries next to a cup of Chemex coffee sounds like a pretty perfect Sunday to me. And because I’m very outgoing from time to time, I’m wandering the streets of Amsterdam these days indulging in the quietness and peaceful monotony it sheds at this time of year.
I love travelling far away, getting to know foreign cultures, different scenes and new people. However, there are also times when I prefer some time at home, building castles of blankets, reading magazines for hours and having favourite food. This weekend I treated myself with a little time of comfort and quiet. I put my bed into the living-room and looked out to the sea. Sometimes your own four walls invite you to the best travels. I’m an introvert to the core and have always loved starting on an adventure through a new book. At the end of the day I find myself strengthened by this little solitary time. Not least because I’m rewarded with a night sky which you can best appreciate sitting on your cosy mattress in front of the panoroma window, sipping on a hot cup of tea.
I’m all into those autumn days again … I hate that I love hiding so much. New opportunities come with new challenges. I used to be the one to welcome those challenges, to work hard, to enjoy growing with them. Lately I’ve come to prefer holing up in my bedsheets. My small little shelter from the world outside.
It’s no secret I have always preferred the rainy Sundays to the sunny ones. I love the sound of rain and storm against my window. Feeling contained inside like a child who have built their own cave out of a multitude of blankets.