Latest Blog Post

Cold, Lights and Canned Pasta

I arrived in Tromsø with my backpack, which probably made me look more like a budget traveller than the heir of an old family. If my parents saw me, they would certainly say: “Vincent, that is not how a Caluwé travels.” But honestly, heritage doesn’t make your shoulders hurt less.

Under the northern lights I met a woman named Chanelle. Her name sounded so elegant that when I introduced myself “Vincent de Caluwé” I almost believed I was in a French novel instead of freezing in Norway. She smiled, I shivered, and then our ways separated. Apparently northern lights are romantic:)

The following week I spent between caves, dives, and canned pasta. After some days you start to wonder: “Is it the pasta that has no taste, or is it my life?” Silence is not a problem, except for the noise inside my own head: “Vincent, why are you staring at seaweed?”

The answer is quite simple: because writing a blog is much more fun.