Nothing is Set in Stone: Changing Plans Without Dropping Promises

Plans are useful. They give shape to a year, something to look forward to, a rough line to follow when the days get busy.

Plans are not set in stone.

Our original idea was to spend February driving through Central and Eastern Europe on the way to Turkey. Poland, Czechia, Hungary, Slovakia, Bulgaria. Annika and I have never traveled through this region before, and that “first time” feeling was a big part of the excitement. Emil was ready, and so were we. Then we zoomed out and looked at the year as a whole, not just at the next few weeks.

We have a rhythm we want to protect: being in Germany twice a year. Not out of obligation, but because we do not want to drift away from the people and communities that shaped us. Friends, neighbors, Toastmasters, familiar faces that make home feel alive even when we are often far away.

There is also a personal commitment on my side. I am part of the alumni board of my student fraternity, and when we took on these responsibilities, I promised to be present regularly. Over time, that has turned into a good tradition: I am in Darmstadt for the two major celebrations, one around June and one at the end of November.

Those fixed points create gentle guardrails for our travels. And they also create a simple reality: the time before summer is usually about a month shorter than the time after summer. When we looked at our Turkey route with that in mind, Turkey suddenly fit better in the second half of the year.

We changed course.

For the first half of the year, we are turning south to the Iberian Peninsula. On our last trip to Morocco, we only touched Spain for a few days on the way in and out, more transit than travel. This time we want to actually arrive, not just pass through.

There are pins on our map that already feel like little magnets.

One is Santiago de Compostela, the end of the Camino. We have never walked it ourselves, and we know many people do the pilgrimage for reasons that are deeply personal. We will arrive in a different way, with Emil and our own everyday routine in the background. Still, the idea of standing at a place where so many journeys end feels powerful. We imagine tired smiles, quiet relief, maybe tears, maybe laughter. A city that has learned how to hold other people’s effort.

The other is the Atlantic, in its loudest mood. I want to see the waves of Nazaré, not as a trophy moment, but as a reminder that nature does not care about our schedules. Just the thought of it makes me feel small in a good way. Wind on the face, salty air, the kind of horizon that clears your head without asking permission.

And because we apparently have a soft spot for meaningful “end points,” there is a third place calling us too: Cabo da Roca, the western edge of mainland Europe. Not for a dramatic checklist photo, but for that simple feeling of looking out and realizing there is only ocean ahead. Just wind, cliffs, and perspective.

Portugal itself, is still a blank page for us. New roads, new markets, new evenings where we learn how a place sounds after dark. Iberia feels like a rare kind of invitation, close enough to reach, wide enough to surprise us. Next week, we set off.

Plans can change, Life can change.

It is easy to think that a decision, you once made, is final. That changing your mind means you failed at planning.

Planning just swaps uncertainty for the possibility of being wrong.

You can't prepare for whats behind every corner.

It sounds a bit cynical, but it carries something honest. You can plan carefully and still be wrong, simply because life keeps moving while you are drawing the map.

And often the opposite is true: changing your plan can be a sign that you are paying attention. To timing. To energy. To the people around you. To your inner voice. To what your life actually looks like, not what you hoped it would look like when you made the plan.

At the same time, you can’t move through life like a butterfly, drifting wherever the wind feels nicest. Freedom without anchors can turn into restlessness. Some promises deserve weight. Most commitments matter more than convenience. And showing up, again and again, is often the quiet thing that builds a relationship you can trust.

Sometimes the opposite is true. If a long friendship has already taken five letters with no answer, is it worth writing the sixth? If you keep saying yes to something out of habit or guilt, and every time it comes around you feel your shoulders tense, what would happen if you gently say no next time? "No" is a full sentence.

Choose carefully what stays fixed in your life. And be just as thoughtful about letting go of the things that bind you when they no longer feel right, even if they once did.

What is on our mind the next days?

For now, we are packing up our routines, closing Emil’s door, and pointing south. Spain and Portugal first. Turkey later, with the time and space it deserves.

In the coming weeks, we will settle back into a weekly rhythm, with more photos and more of the small moments that usually make it into our stories.

Explore. Dream. Discover.