I’ve never quite made peace with sleep. I understand why my body needs it, and I do love a deep, restful night. But I still resist the surrender it demands. There is so much to taste, to create, to savor, to experience, to explore while awake. Life feels too short to spend a third of it unconscious. Sleep and I don’t have the healthiest relationship; it’s actually pretty dysfunctional, if I’m honest. Still, I try to make the most of it. I often do some of my best work in the middle of the night, like right now, in the quiet of the historic center of Mexico City.
I’m endlessly sentimental. I feel everything with such depth: every goodbye and every reunion, every sunrise and every nightfall. My heart overflows with more joy than I ever imagined possible. Yet beneath that happiness lies a constant ache for the people I love and miss when the miles and months stretch too far between us. It’s not that I wish to abandon this life and go where they are. I simply wish they could join us on the road more often. My days are a blend of deep gratitude and a tender, persistent longing.
But I like this about myself. I love feeling deeply. I allow my heart to overflow with whatever it needs to feel. I don’t know how to be any other way than to love fully. I want to offer that love to every person I encounter, even in some small way. I hope to help them feel seen, cherished, or at the very least, appreciated. I’ve come to believe it’s a sort of superpower: this ability to love deeply and empathize with fellow human beings. Whether we admit it or not, we all long to be loved deeply. To be truly loved, we must be willing to love deeply, too. Love is everywhere when you open your heart to it. I feel it so intensely that it often brings me to tears of joy. To that, I surrender gladly.
My life is far from perfect, but it is wonderfully rich. Each time we host a Gastronomad Experience, that joy grows and expands. It feels as though it fills every corner of my being. Around a long table, with glasses raised, stories shared, and laughter echoing, I pause to soak it all in. I look around the room, thinking: this is what true magic is. In those moments, my heart melts.
This past weekend, we said heartfelt goodbyes to our small group of Gastronomads in Oaxaca. Now we are in Mexico City. We are letting the rhythm of one experience flow naturally into the next, just a week apart. I already miss our beautiful Oaxaca group. Yet my heart swells with excitement to welcome our new friends for the Mexico City Gastronomad Experience. That is the essence of my life: sadness and joy, always side by side, always coexisting. We intentionally and joyfully meander through this fascinating, fast-changing world. This is truly me.
People often tell us we’re living the dream. They wish they could live a life like ours. I understand why. I adore this life. I hope to live it this way for as long as I possibly can. Knowing nothing lasts forever, I try to live each day with intention and deep gratitude. I never take any of it for granted. We meet and come to know incredibly fascinating, curious, and inspiring people. They are both locals and guests who join us for the Gastronomad Experience. Over time, they become part of our extended family. That alone fills me with more awe and joy than I could ever have imagined. Traveling the world deeply through food, friendship, and beauty is even more fulfilling than I ever dared to believe possible.
With each passing year, every time I return to a place and see how much it has changed. Often, it is not for the better. I feel something stir deep within me: the profound joy of being there and the heavy imprint of time gone by. I see it in the vanished markets and in the family-run shops replaced by glass towers. The gradual fading of a place’s spirit, in the mounting struggles of those too often overlooked and the marginalized communities. I note the forgotten and neglected corners. Most poignantly, I see the traditions that fade, one by one, into memory.
We live in a globally connected, technology-driven world. It's defined by constant, accelerating change. It’s impossible not to see it, not to feel it, not to sense it as an approaching avalanche of what’s still to come. The places we love will never be exactly as they are today, and neither will we. The world is always in motion, and so are we. I find comfort in knowing that simply being there is meaningful. Bringing small groups of kindred spirits who arrive with open hearts, loving curiosity, and the soul of explorers is a meaningful way to support local communities. It allows us to stand beside the people who keep their culture alive.
With our Gastronomad Experiences, we travel in a way that uplifts the very people who welcome us in. These are the people who create meaningful jobs, tend the land with care, and lovingly preserve and honor local traditions through their craft, food, and wine. We seek out visionary, compassionate stewards of the earth everywhere we go. This includes farmers, winemakers, artisans, and chefs who act as guardians of their culture and environment. We design each experience so that every shared meal and encounter becomes a small act of support. When we choose to travel this way, with intention and respect, we can help slow the erosion of cultural traditions. In our own small but meaningful way, tend to the heart and soul of a place.
As the night fades, I’ll leave you with one final thought: if you’re waiting to travel, wait no more. It’s not a matter of if, but when it will be too late to experience the world in the way your heart longs to. Take it from me: twenty years of wandering this planet have taught me one thing with absolute clarity. I only wish I had started sooner and traveled twice as long.
With deep love and gratitude, Amira
