We almost didn’t go.

There was no plan. No permission.
Just this quiet fear that if we waited any longer, life would keep moving without us.

So we left.

And what we found — on highways, in breakdowns, under fireworks, and behind fogged-up windshields — wasn’t an escape. It was presence.
It was proof that memory doesn’t wait for the perfect moment.
It shows up when you do.

We drove through the stillness. Through the noise.
Through the kind of days you feel before you understand them.

This film isn’t just a reflection of where we went.
It’s a reminder for anyone who’s been waiting:
waiting for clarity, for timing, for something to say “go.”

This is that moment.

Because one day, all you’ll have is the story.
And if you’re lucky — it’ll feel like this.