There’s a sense of peace when travelling by yourself that is hard to describe. It’s a feeling of confidence that comes when you navigate your path correctly and get to your destination with all your belongings intact.This was not one of those times. I arrived at the tiny village of Scheldewindeke in Belgium in a fit of panic and self-doubt, having missed my original train stop because I was too busy hooked on a voice note from a friend. I disembarked the train at Moortsele and put the location of the volunteer host home into my maps. A 19-minute walk away? Should be fine, I thought. I had booked a volunteering holiday to Oosterzele in Belgium via Workaway, an app for lovers of travel who are looking for culture at less cost. The deal is simple: in exchange for working for four hours a day, the volunteer receives free accommodation, food, beers and activities. It sounded idyllic, and after a year of living in London, incredible to get away from the chaotic hustle of the city and the relentless beeping of computer screens, Apple Pay transactions and social media notifications. I grew up in County Donegal. My childhood consisted of nature walks, adventure, a constant tan from playing outside and attending a small Gaeltacht school until the age of 12. When I moved to Galway for my master’s degree in 2023, morning swims in Salthill and weekend hikes in Barna woods were part of my routine. Moving to London had always been my dream but I missed nature. Which is why this particular Belgian village in the Flemish province of East Flanders had attracted me. Not to mention the purpose of the trip: my Workaway host Dahlia DeDeyn ran a small festival called FestWest, founded in 2021, and the plan for her volunteers was to help build the festival from the ground up. I’d read reviews from previous volunteers at the festival, and I couldn’t wait.I started to walk, following the map, noticing my phone battery was dangerously low. As soon as I turned the corner to the station where I was supposed to meet my host family, my phone died. I was close to tears so went into the nearest cafe to buy a coffee and charge it but realised I had forgotten to bring an adaptor. I asked if someone could charge my phone for me but they didn’t have anywhere to plug it in. Recently I read Florence Given’s Women Living Deliciously, which teaches you to romanticise the little things in life and practice gratitude no matter how dire the situation. Following this, I decided to purchase a pain au chocolat and enjoy some of the August sun with a fresh pastry before figuring out a plan on how to get back to London. I was beginning to think this trip was a mistake. Preparing for the FestWest festival. As I sat on the hot, dry concrete of the platform, I noticed a car across the street in the parking area – where people wait to pick up passengers. Climbing out of the car was a boy with brown eyes, blonde hair and the friendliest smile I had ever seen. He lifted his hand to wave as I frowned in confusion. “I’m Igor,” he said. “Dahlia’s brother, I was asked to pick you up,”I couldn’t believe he had recognised me. “It’s easy to spot the volunteers,” he said. “They are usually the ones looking lost and confused with a backpack.” [ Exploring England: 10 destinations to try on a short-hop breakOpens in new window ]Arriving at our destination, a house and garden with a blue and yellow sign overhead reading FestWest, I was greeted by Dahlia, our host, and the rest of the volunteers: there were eight Workaway volunteers at the house already, with ten more on the way. We enjoyed a lunch of hot rolls, crunchy cucumber salad and hummus. Then it was time to set up: behind the DeDeyn house was a field where there was space to pitch around 15 tents. All tents and sleeping gear (mats, sleeping bags) were provided as part of the Workaway requirement, and there was access to a bathroom, shower and outdoor kitchen. While the camp was basic, the hospitality I was greeted with there was immediate and heartwarming. Once settled in, we began our working tasks for the day. Place gates and food stands for the expected festival attendees. Saw, hammer and paint structures to be put on display. Push massive boxes together to make the stage. Hang fairy lights in the top branches to add atmosphere. Lucy Peoples (right) at FestWest. After a year of living in London, it felt incredible to spend days in the sun, outdoors from dawn until dusk with my feet in the grass, working with my hands. We played music while we worked. And as the searing heat of the summer sun beat down on us, there was an excitement in the air too. The anticipation of the sense of achievement that would come from creating a festival and watching as it sprang to life. Each evening, on our break, we’d participate in an activity. On the first night, we rode bikes to a house party in the local area of Scheldewindeke. On the second, we played badminton until it got dark and cooked pasta. On the third, we watched a movie al fresco, on a projector under the leaves. Crunching popcorn outside while the Moroccan volunteers made mint tea, surrounded by laughter and watching a comedy film in the middle of camp where our tents were pitched, it felt like a truly surreal experience. To be surrounded by strangers who already felt like family, to crawl into a tent and sleep deeply from exhaustion: for ten days, it was a kind of bliss. During our free time, we cycled around Oosterzele, went out for dinner to sample the Belgian fries, and headed to the city of Ghent where there was so much to see, including Belgium’s tallest belfry. At night, it was campfire songs. Eating waffles and drinking Jupiler with guitar sounds and the smell of ash. Listening to the logs crackling and snapping under the flames. Afraid to fall asleep from the fear of missing out – particularly because Marthe (one of the most energetic, vivacious people I have ever met) would launch into a new story right as everyone was heading back to their sleeping bags. The FestWest festival in Belgium. When the night of the festival finally arrived, we worked in shifts. Our roles varied from security (checking the IDs of the over 200 attendees who arrived at the festival and accepting payment for entry), cocktail-making at the bar, serving food (one of the volunteers fussed that she felt “like SpongeBob: I’ve been flipping burgers all day”), washing up, handing out wristbands and pulling draught Belgian beers. We were all briefed on the Belgian way to order a beer (holding a pinky finger in the air which meant: one pint). We also learned the correct way to pour a beer in Belgium is to include three fingers of foam (something I would have been ripped to shreds for in London or Ireland). The FestWest festival in Belgium. The festival itself was a beautiful success. Members of the community gathered to listen to the bands, to eat, drink and dance the night away under the stars. It made all of the work and preparation worth it to see how much everyone enjoyed themselves. It felt surreal to think just a few hours ago, one of our crew, Pieter, was stuck up a tree trying to hang the last of the fairy lights. “At its heart, FestWest is one big family,” Dahlia DeDeyn told me afterwards. “We started this VZW [non-profit organisation] to build a community where music, culture, and pure connection take centre stage. It’s a place where the local community shines, because we are one big family.”Workaway has changed the way I want to travel. Instead of spending lots of money on a trip away, you can exchange your skills for cultural experiences and memories. It’s been a form of therapy I never knew I needed. FestWest 2026 will take place in Scheldewindeke, Oosterzele in Belgium on August 8th. [ ‘Australia left me cold’: Irish Times writers on their favourite - and most overrated - holiday destinationsOpens in new window ]