Life can be contained in two suitcases. That’s what I have been doing for several months now. My life has never been dominated by consumption, but on the road, consumption has even less space. Each time I fancy buying something, it is rejected for being either too heavy or too bulky. As a result, life is simpler and less cluttered but new questions emerge: What does one really need? Probably not a lot. However, as the months pass, there is something I start missing : a small home, a small refuge where I know I can always go to put my bags down when they become too heavy, a place where I can put that beautiful shell or rock I found on the beach.