Every Journey Tells a Story

One of the projects I have finally managed to complete over the past few evenings has been something I had been thinking about for quite a long time.

I have created a new page on my website that brings together all of my online photo albums in one place. After years of travelling, photographing and writing, it seemed the right moment to organise those memories into a single collection that is easy to browse and, hopefully, enjoyable to explore.

You can find it here:

Photo Albums and Travel Reports https://www.romanmajcher.eu/blog-2/files/7d9a8e4ebb1ee5b2dbdf379b7235313b-141.html

Looking through these albums has been a journey in itself.

Together, they cover many years of my life and thousands of photographs from different corners of the world. Some were taken during humanitarian missions, others during family holidays, road trips with friends, or quiet weekends spent exploring places simply because curiosity led me there.

As I moved from one album to another, I realised that certain parts of the world seem to keep calling me back.

The countries of Central and Eastern Europe have always remained close to my heart. Poland, Slovakia, Czechia, Hungary and Germany are places I return to again and again—not only because they are close to home, but because every visit reveals something new. Whether wandering through historic towns, walking mountain trails or simply sharing dinner with family and friends, they never feel repetitive.

The Baltic region has become another favourite. Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, Finland, Denmark and Sweden offered a wonderful combination of medieval cities, quiet forests, endless coastlines and unforgettable ferry journeys across the Baltic Sea. I already know that it will not be my last visit there.

The Mediterranean has also accompanied me throughout the years. From Portugal and Spain to Italy, Greece, and Morocco, I have always been drawn by the light, the sea, the history and the slower rhythm of life that seems to encourage people to sit a little longer over coffee and conversation.

Then there are the countries that have become much more than destinations.

South Sudan, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Bangladesh, North Korea, Venezuela and now Ethiopia are places where travel and work became inseparable. They are countries where I have spent months or years rather than days, where friendships were formed, difficult lessons learned and unforgettable experiences accumulated. Looking through those albums reminds me that humanitarian work has allowed me not only to see the world, but to understand it a little better.

Perhaps that is what these albums really represent.

Not a collection of countries.

Not a list of places visited.

But a collection of encounters.

When I look back, I rarely remember monuments first.

Instead, I remember the people.

The family that welcomed me into their home.

The colleague who became a lifelong friend.

The child laughing in a school courtyard.

The elderly man sharing stories over tea.

The conversations during long drives across empty landscapes.

The unexpected reunion with an old friend thousands of kilometres from where we first met.

Travelling has taught me that the most memorable journeys are never measured by the number of kilometres travelled.

They are measured by the number of perspectives gained.

The world is an astonishingly diverse place, yet the more I travel, the more I realise how much we all have in common. Everywhere I go, people care about their families, worry about the future, celebrate milestones, welcome visitors and hope for a better tomorrow.

Perhaps that is why I have never lost my enthusiasm for discovering somewhere new.

Even after countless flights, border crossings and road trips, I still feel a quiet excitement when unfolding a map, boarding a ferry, setting off before sunrise or seeing a road sign pointing towards a place I have never visited before.

I suspect that feeling will never disappear.

So, if you have a little time and feel like travelling without leaving home, I warmly invite you to browse the albums.

Perhaps you will revisit places you already know.

Perhaps you will discover somewhere new.

And perhaps, like me, you will be reminded that travelling is not really about reaching destinations.

It is about remaining curious.

Plans of September and October, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, September 2026

It is hard to believe that more than three weeks have already passed since I arrived in Ethiopia.

As with every new posting, the first days seemed to move at remarkable speed. There was so much to learn, so many people to meet, and countless practical matters to organise. Now, little by little, the initial whirlwind is beginning to settle into something more familiar. I am finding my rhythm.

Professionally, every day brings new insights.

Much of my time has been spent trying to understand the humanitarian context, meeting with partners, listening to colleagues, reading reports, and gradually building a clearer picture of the challenges and opportunities that lie ahead. Every conversation adds another piece to the puzzle. Ethiopia is a fascinating country, both incredibly diverse and remarkably complex, and I have the feeling that learning about it will remain an ongoing journey throughout my time here.

Away from the office, I have also been busy creating a new home.

My flat is now almost fully arranged. There are still a few details to finish, but the books have found their shelves, the pictures are beginning to appear on the walls, and the kitchen finally feels lived in. It is always surprising how quickly an unfamiliar apartment begins to feel like home through a collection of small, everyday routines.

I live in the Bole Atlas area of Addis Ababa, only a short distance from the office, which makes daily life wonderfully convenient. The neighbourhood has quickly become familiar. Cafés, bakeries, small supermarkets and busy streets filled with people going about their day create an atmosphere that is both lively and welcoming. It is one of those parts of the city where modern Addis Ababa reveals itself—constantly growing, energetic and full of life—while still retaining a distinctly Ethiopian character.

One of the highlights of these first weeks was experiencing Enkutatash, the Ethiopian New Year.

Celebrated on 11 September, it marks the beginning of a new year according to the Ethiopian calendar and coincides with the end of the rainy season, when the countryside begins to turn green and yellow adey abeba flowers bloom across the landscape. Throughout the city, families gathered to celebrate, children dressed in traditional clothes visited homes singing New Year songs, and churches filled with worshippers giving thanks for the year gone by and praying for the one ahead.

It was a wonderful introduction to Ethiopian culture and a reminder that every country marks the passing of time in its own unique way.

The next chapter of my own Ethiopian journey is about to begin.

In the coming days, I will leave Addis Ababa for my first field mission, travelling to Gondar and further north into the Amhara Region to visit several projects supported by one of our humanitarian partners.

Field visits have always been among my favourite parts of humanitarian work.

Reports and meetings are essential, but nothing replaces seeing programmes firsthand, meeting the people involved, speaking with local communities and understanding how humanitarian assistance translates into everyday life. I am particularly looking forward to learning more about the region, its communities and the work being carried out there.

Amhara has experienced difficult years and, like many parts of Ethiopia, continues to face challenges while also demonstrating remarkable resilience. I look forward to listening, learning and gaining a deeper understanding of both the situation and the strength of the communities living there.

There has also been wonderful news from much further away.

In Toronto, Tahir and Amna have welcomed a beautiful baby boy into their family.

His name is Hamza.

Needless to say, we are all absolutely overjoyed. Watching families grow is one of life's greatest pleasures, and I cannot wait to meet the newest member of our extended family. Congratulations once again to the proud parents—and a very warm welcome to the world, Hamza!

Looking a little further ahead, October promises to be another month of travel.

One unexpected consequence of my years in Venezuela is that I still have a considerable amount of annual leave to use. Humanitarian emergencies and demanding periods of work often meant postponing holidays, so I now have the opportunity to make up for some of that lost time.

Immediately after returning from the field, I will spend a week travelling between Tunis and Rome before heading to Poland for another week in Nowy Sącz.

It will be wonderful to spend time with Mum and the rest of the family once again.

Even better, Giovanni will still be there before returning to Venezuela at the end of October, giving us another opportunity to spend time together before our paths temporarily separate once more.

We are also planning a short excursion across the border into northern Hungary, exploring the beautiful Tokaj region with its vineyards, historic towns and rolling countryside. It seems like the perfect way to enjoy the colours of autumn before returning to work in Ethiopia.

Looking back over these first weeks, I realise how fortunate I have been.

Only a short time ago I was saying goodbye to Venezuela, a country that had become home over three unforgettable years.

Today, I find myself beginning another chapter in Ethiopia.

A fruit seller at the Chinese Market, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, August 2026

It is hard to believe that almost two weeks have already passed since I arrived in Addis Ababa.

In some ways, it feels as though I landed only yesterday. In others, the days have been so full that it already feels like I have been here much longer.

Starting a new assignment is always an interesting experience.

There is the professional side of it: understanding a new context, meeting colleagues, learning new procedures, discovering how a new office functions and gradually finding one's place within the team. Every country is different, every humanitarian operation has its own character, and every new posting comes with its own learning curve.

Then there is everything else.

Finding a flat that will become home for the next few years. Unpacking boxes that have travelled halfway around the world. Deciding where the books should go, where to hang photographs, and how to make an unfamiliar apartment slowly begin to feel like home.

I have spent many evenings doing exactly that.

There is something surprisingly satisfying about these small routines. Buying kitchen utensils, choosing a few plants, learning where to buy groceries, discovering a favourite café, figuring out which roads are best avoided during rush hour. They are ordinary things, yet they quietly transform a city from somewhere you happen to be into somewhere you actually live.

And then there is Addis Ababa itself.

Every day reveals something new.

Bustling streets filled with life. The aroma of freshly roasted coffee drifting from cafés. The sound of construction, traffic and conversation blending into the rhythm of a city that seems constantly on the move. Green hills appearing unexpectedly between neighbourhoods. Markets, restaurants, parks and countless corners still waiting to be explored.

I know I have only just begun getting to know Ethiopia.

That is perhaps the most exciting part.

One thing that has already made me smile more than once is how wonderfully small the humanitarian world can be.

Within days of arriving, I found myself unexpectedly meeting people I knew from previous deployments. Friends from years spent in other countries, colleagues I had not seen for a long time, familiar faces appearing in completely unexpected places.

After moving between humanitarian responses for many years, you begin to realise that the world is enormous—and remarkably small at the same time.

Those unexpected reunions have made arriving here feel easier.

Professionally, the days have been busy.

There is an enormous amount to learn, countless meetings, new priorities to understand and many people to meet. At times it feels like drinking from a fire hose—trying to absorb as much information as possible while also beginning to contribute.

But I enjoy this stage.

There is a particular energy that comes with beginnings.

Every conversation teaches me something new.

Every meeting helps me understand the country a little better.

Every walk through the city makes Addis Ababa feel just a little more familiar.

People often ask me whether it becomes easier to move from one country to another after doing it several times.

In some ways, yes.

You learn that home is not created overnight. It grows slowly, through routines, friendships and small everyday moments.

You also learn to embrace the uncertainty that every new beginning brings.

So here I am.

Nearly two weeks into a new chapter.

Still learning.

Still exploring.

Still occasionally getting lost.

But already feeling excited about everything that lies ahead.

I have a feeling Addis Ababa and Ethiopia have many stories waiting to be discovered.

I look forward to sharing them with you.