Westerås gard, Geirangerfjord. I met these South Americans over breakfast—eggs, coffee, the kind of laughter that makes you forget you’re far from anyone who knows your middle name. We swapped stories about border crossings and bad bus rides. For a few hours, I felt less like a tourist and more like someone who belonged somewhere. Then they left. I watched their backpacks disappear down the gravel path. The silence after was sharp. No one warns you how travel is a series of hellos that end in goodbyes you feel in your chest. Sometimes, the loneliest part isn’t being alone—it’s realizing how quickly you can miss people you barely knew. #Travel #TravelLoneliness #FoundFamily