July 2025 was a month of transition for me — a month full of contrasts:
scorching heat in the car during the day, nights on forest, lake, or city parking lots, and at the same time the increasingly tangible excitement of my tiny house, hovering somewhere between construction site and dream home. I worked from the car, taught lessons, edited videos, wrote blog articles, did countless livestreams — all while trying to eat halfway healthy, keep an eye on my weight, and not completely drown in the chaos of nomadic life.
My days were filled with cafés, cheesecake, lakes, thermal spas, and campgrounds, with electricity issues, charging problems, power banks, livestreams in six languages, and spontaneous drives across Bavaria. Meanwhile, big background events were moving forward: job interviews, planning side jobs, preparing to sell the car, and the first real steps toward tiny house life — including my very first, and still extremely uncomfortable, trial night in the house.
It was a month somewhere between “living on the edge” and “my new home is finally becoming real.”
In the photo diary “Dreamy Tiny House Diary – July 2025”, I share the whole story — in pictures and detailed diary entries.
Here’s a little preview: one emotional moment from each day in July.
READ THE FULL 6-LANGUAGE PHOTO DIARY RIGHT NOW — CLICK HERE
One emotional moment from every July day
July 1 – A day of work, a learning-tricks livestream, swimming in the Isar, and battling mosquitoes at a forest parking lot — it felt like: “It’s exhausting, but I love this crazy life anyway!”
July 2 – Ice-cold mountain stream, badly parked cars at the charging station, and fireflies at my new overnight spot — an unbelievable mix of beauty and annoyance.
July 3 – A swan mother who refused to share her bathing spot with me, a long lakeside hike with Olaf, and ending the day physically tired but emotionally incredibly full.
July 4 – A beautiful hiking day, my very first lottery ticket, and then an unpleasant discussion with Olaf that left me feeling unseen.
July 5 – Firefighters, hikers sleeping on the ground, a mysteriously locked accessible toilet, relief when it was empty — and a deep, meaningful conversation with Nina. A day of worry, wonder, and connection.
July 6 – Favorite café despite festival chaos, thermal spa with Sascha, Psalm 23 in the herb garden, and a thriller in the car — I was so relieved how perfectly body, soul, and everyday life aligned.
July 7 – Job interview at the tutoring center, a peaceful lakeside evening, firefighters hanging lights for a summer festival — a day that made me think: “Maybe this puzzle piece really fits into my new life.”
July 8 – Cold, rain, rubber boots, and restarting my planner from scratch — and yet I ended the day thinking: “Despite the gray skies, I got so much done.”
July 9 – Car inspection, cheesecake breaks, and Poirot with my dad — a strangely comforting blend of organization, family time, and future planning.
July 10 – A good job interview by the lake, chaotic bus transfers, and Monk with my dad at the end — fortunately everything turned out well despite the detours.
July 11 – The message that the windows and door were coming and that I could test-sleep in the house — I was bursting with excitement. And when I saw my freshly detailed car, the joy was enormous.
July 12 – A day of latte, bouldering, and a forest parking lot — physically tired, but relieved at how strong my body has become.
July 13 – Cheesecake, botanical garden, two livestreams, outdoor cinema in the rain, and a soaked nighttime run back to the car — exhausting and unforgettable.
July 14 – A quiet forest morning, brownie in a café, livestreams, and new planner and sticker ideas — a day that reminded me that creativity is my anchor.
July 15 – Possibly my last morning in the car, a promising clinic job interview, lots of hardware store prep and kiosk cleanup — I was so curious whether this transition would actually work out.
July 16 – Too little sleep, a canceled car sale because “we don’t take EVs”, and then the decision to sell later — a day between frustration and huge relief about two more weeks of car life.
July 17 – A peaceful day with cake, walks, productive blog work and a Spanish live — simply grateful that things finally felt light again.
July 18 – Heat in the car, cake to cope, four chocolate bars at the lake and concentrated course work despite noise and terrible internet — a classic “life on the edge, but I’m doing it anyway” day.
July 19 – Laundry day, Nymphenburg Palace, botanical garden, thunderstorms, noisy parkings, and a Russian live — I was exhausted but proud of everything I manage from this rolling office.
July 20 – After a sleepless night, a relaxing spa day with Sascha, holding my new planner in my hands, and a peaceful evening walk with Olaf — such a relief to have a real “recharge day.”
July 21 – Finding healthy foods with Olaf, indulging in “last meals,” fixing up my bike, and a German live — a day between letting go of old habits and getting ready for new rules.
July 22 – Broken cable, worn-out port, saved by two power banks, and an English livestream about herb quark — annoyed, but deeply relieved that my digital lifeline survived.
July 23 – Life on the edge: power bank empty, iPhone empty, MacBook empty — and me sitting in an old kiosk by the socket to rescue a French livestream. Complaining at a high level, but hey: it worked.
July 24 – Lakeside walk, secret footpaths, ice-cold mountain river, teaching at the water, and a Spanish live — this day was just incredible: so much beauty and focus in one place.
July 25 – First an annoying call from my old landlord, then the great news from the construction company: windows, floor, test night — an emotional roller coaster ending in: “Thank goodness things are moving forward now!”
July 26 – A restless night, overcrowded climbing gym, street festival, pizza, Russian live, and movie night in the car — full of plan changes, but still a good day.
July 27 – Family day at the botanical garden with Dad and Lukas, good food, and a clear boundary-setting talk with Olaf — sad, but relieved to say what I truly need.
July 28 – A calm morning where my tiny house will soon stand, cancellation of the old rental plot in the rain, learning session with Elena, and one last July live — quiet but important.
July 29 – Farewell to the car, a strange taxi ride, arriving in a tiny village “where fox and hare say goodnight,” and my very first night in the wood-scented house — I was so excited I could barely sleep.
July 30 – Too hard a mattress, too little sleep, missed train, cheesecake therapy, book corrections with Elena, arriving at Steffi’s, and a tiny house documentary — a day of small mishaps and huge anticipation.
July 31 – Rainy walk with Steffi and Merlin, an accidental four-course meal, lots of laughing, a very full belly, and the realization:
“Tomorrow I’m really moving into my tiny house — unbelievable.”
More in the photo diary & name story
If you’re curious how each day really looked — the photos, the stories, the emotions behind this huge transition from car life to tiny house living — you’ll find everything in the July photo diary:
“Dreamy Tiny House Diary – July 2025” (available since December 1)
READ THE FULL 6-LANGUAGE PHOTO DIARY HERE
I also wrote a separate article explaining why
“Hiking Guide – Hosts by the Water”
has now become the
“Dreamy Tiny House Diary” —
with all the thoughts, feelings, and decisions behind the name change.
If you don’t want to miss future photo diaries, name stories, and tiny-house adventures, make sure to subscribe to the blog — you’ll get all new posts immediately and can follow my journey from car to tiny house month by month. 💜
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