In the last 4 years, I’ve traveled to every continent (minus Antarctica).
I spent 15 months in New Zealand, a year in Australia, 3 months in Canada. I hiked up a couple of old volcanoes in Bali, Indonesia, and discovered the oldest desert in the world in Namibia. My work led me to some pretty remote places and I had the chance to showcase the beauty of the world as it appeared to my camera to a forever growing audience on my social media channels. The last 4 years have been incredibly insane, and I discovered my true passion: being outside in the mountains.
But today, I feel something is missing. Of course, I had the chance to roam a bit in Europe, but always during the winter colder months of the year. I’ve recently realized that I’ve never seen my own continent in the summer as a photographer, except for my two favorite countries on Earth: Iceland and Norway, where I spent 6 weeks last year, from mid-August to late September.