Every story begins with someone being thrown into a mystery they never asked for.
I was thrown into life — in a place where a castle and a hospital shared the same hill in Germany. My mother would joke that I had two options: to come through her, or through a woman from Turkey with a completely different belief system.
I chose the free spirit — my mother — though sometimes I wonder if she was too free… just like me.

I grew up between two worlds: the quiet rhythm of a German village and the pulsing energy of Melbourne’s city life. I knew every apple tree around me in Germany, every spider in Australia. Both places shaped me — one taught me roots, the other gave me wings.

Travel, it seems, is written into my DNA. I feel most alive when things are in motion — my thoughts, my heart, or the vehicle beneath me. For a while, I thought working in the wellness industry would soothe that constant inner movement. I imagined calm music, warm oils, and deep breathing. Instead, I found myself listening to bird songs while wrestling with my own restlessness — and with clients who arrived breathless, carrying their own storms. They paid fortunes to relax, but their stories revealed how rare it was to meet someone who truly lived without stress — someone who had found peace in their “nest.”

That became the seed for my book.

When I looked around, I couldn’t find a single role model of true peace. So I set out to test the common opinion — or at least to search for what peace really means. I challenged the Universe to show me where to go. My journey became a silent pilgrimage — no map, no company, only trust. Trust in timing, in corners unseen, in intuition.

And yes, it was a luxury kind of pilgrimage — no barefoot deserts or torn robes — but it was real. The most important thing was simply to take that first step out of Frankfurt, fully into the unknown.

Only to discover… that you are always in the unknown.
And life itself — every breath, every move, every encounter — is the pilgrimage.