A Month of Hikes, Family Bonds, and Celebrations.
In 2017, life was a whirlwind of dream homes and workshop tours.
We were living our best life in Tenerife, soaking in the island vibes and that endless sunshine.
But there was a catch: our workshop commitments in Holland were like a boomerang, constantly pulling us back to the mainland every six or seven weeks.
Yoni had launched his big “Happy, Healthy, Wealthy & Wise” program.
A series of full-weekend workshops on living the ideal life, which had people signing up a year in advance.
Not to mention his ambitious “Zero-to-Million” project, where he documented the process of building a million-dollar business from scratch, complete with live quarterly meetups in Holland.
In short, our supposedly idyllic island life had us bouncing around Europe like jet-lagged ping-pong balls.
By year’s end, the travel grind caught up to us, and we made the executive decision: no more live events in Holland.
Tenerife was calling, and we were finally ready to answer without interruption.
But before that decision came into play, there was one itinerary that stands out—a logistical jigsaw puzzle of epic proportions.
April 2017 rolled in, and we embarked on a complex travel schedule.
First up, Amsterdam for a sold-out workshop weekend.
When the sessions wrapped, I flew to Israel to celebrate Passover with family, and Thom, our lovely daughter, joined me, stealing a few precious days away from her studies in London.
She had a heartfelt reason for her visit: she wanted to see my father, who’d had a stroke a few years prior, while there was still time.
Her intuition proved spot-on; he passed away later that year. It was a bittersweet gathering, made all the more meaningful by her presence.
While Thom returned to London, I stayed a bit longer in Israel.
Yoni, on the other hand, made a pit stop in Spain, visiting our friends, the Grinbergs, for some much-needed back treatments.
We reunited in London, ready for the adventure we’d been planning: a ten-day hiking escapade across the UK.
And, conveniently, it would end just in time for Thom’s 20th birthday on May 1st. Perfect timing, right?
We had our sights set on the legendary Coast to Coast trail, stretching from the Irish Sea in Cumbria to the North Sea at Robin Hood’s Bay.
With three national parks—Lake District, Yorkshire Dales, and North York Moors.
It’s a quintessential English hill-walking experience, covering nearly 320 km.
But since we couldn’t spare two weeks, we trimmed our hike to start at Kirkby Stephen and skipping the Lake District (because who needs extra lakes when you’ve got moors to tackle?).
Cue our first day: Kirkby Stephen greeted us with friendly hiking advice, and we were talked into buying rain-and-bog-protective gear.
We had no idea how necessary those would become. Not long into our trek, we encountered our first bog.
If you’ve never had the pleasure, imagine wading through a muddy swamp that devours your shoes, socks, and self-respect.
My initial encounter involved a shoe full of swamp muck and a scream that probably echoed across the Pennines.
Disgusting doesn’t even cover it.
Yet, somehow, the shock wore off, and all I could think about was reaching our B&B for a hot shower to scrub the grime—and trauma—away.
Day one was a boggy initiation, but the following days redeemed themselves with spectacular views and a somewhat cooperative weather forecast.
That is, until we reached Richmond. Storm warnings were blaring, and we made an executive decision.
After all, we came for a vacation, not a survival trip.
Yoni cozied up with his laptop in a café, and I explored the charming, rain-soaked streets of Richmond, complete with wooden statues and an impressive Norman castle.
When the storm showed no signs of relenting, we hailed a taxi to our next B&B.
Thankfully, the weather gods smiled on us after that, blessing us with clearer skies.
We strolled through the North York Moors, marveling at the heather-clad hills and stretches of forest.
Hours would pass without another soul in sight, making it feel as if we had the entire landscape to ourselves.
Rolling down toward the North Sea felt like a triumphant victory lap, and finally arriving in Robin Hood’s Bay was nothing short of magical.
The adventure concluded with a train ride back to London to celebrate Thom’s 20th birthday.
We couldn’t have asked for a better ending: a month filled with family, laughter, bog mishaps, and unforgettable hiking memories.
Cheers to the ultimate adventure, and happy birthday to our favorite (and only) daughter!
