The first sunrise of the year, and I’m standing on a volcanic rock in the Caribbean, technically the highest point in the Netherlands. The guesthouse owner hands me a plate of oliebollen—Dutch New Year’s donuts, sticky and sweet. I eat them alone on the porch, watching clouds crawl over the peak. It’s a place so small you can walk the whole island in a day, but I still felt out of place. I thought starting the year somewhere new would mean something. Instead, it just made me realize how much I miss feeling known. The donuts tasted like home for someone else. #Travel #TravelConfessions #FarFromHome