Welcome to Trading for a Boat—a space where I document my journey as I pursue trading and build toward a personal dream. This is a chronicle of how I’m developing as a trader while chasing a goal that keeps me motivated: to become skilled enough at trading to afford my own boat before retirement, and then spend my golden years sailing the Mediterranean.
Today, I’m sitting at Limassol beach in 29°C weather, watching the waves and reflecting on how I got here. Let me take you back to where it all began.
Arrival in Cyprus: The Hells Angels, Coffee, and Airport Interviews
Two weeks ago, I stepped off a plane at Larnaca Airport with one clear goal: to start a new life in Limassol. The flight was unusually quiet—about half full—but I couldn’t help noticing one passenger who commanded immediate attention. A huge gentleman, possibly traveling with his wife, wore a red T-shirt emblazoned with “Hells Angels Kiev.”
What happened next felt almost like a sign.
When we landed and I collected my luggage, I spotted two members of Hells Angels Cyprus greeting him at the arrivals gate. They embraced with genuine warmth. I couldn’t hear their conversation from where I stood, but the respect and loyalty in those gestures spoke volumes. I’ve always admired that kind of brotherhood—probably why I was such a fan of Sons of Anarchy. There’s something about loyalty and mutual respect that resonates deeply with me.
But my arrival story doesn’t end there.
I had the misfortune—or maybe fortune—of landing at night. No buses to Limassol until morning. To make matters more complicated, I had my first job interview scheduled online for early the next morning. Most people would have been stressed. I decided to be prepared.
I did my homework with AI research, found that the airport had comfortable leather chairs upstairs, and armed myself with that knowledge. That night became a blend of strong coffee, strategic reading, and technical preparation. I even used the downtime to set up this very blog—watching tutorials, learning WordPress basics, understanding Elementor—all while managing the nervous energy of starting something completely new in an unfamiliar country.
By the time dawn broke, I was exhausted but ready. I found the quietest corner of the airport, composed myself, and messaged the HR lady: “I’m still at the airport, but I’m prepared if you’d like to proceed with the interview now.”
Her response crushed my carefully laid plans: she canceled and rescheduled.
Hours of sleeplessness, all that preparation, all that effort—wasted. But as anyone building something knows, setbacks are part of the process. I couldn’t check into my accommodation until 14:00, so I had five more hours to kill at the airport.
Two hours later, I boarded the bus to Limassol.
From the Bus to the Beach: A Reminder of What Matters
The bus ride gave me time to process. I was exhausted, slightly disappointed, but still committed. This was my moment. This was the beginning.
Today, two weeks into my new life in Cyprus, I’m sitting on Limassol beach. The water is 18°C—cool but not impossible. The sun is warm on my skin. And something magical is happening around me.
I watch a small child experiencing big waves for what is probably the first time in his life—eyes wide, smile bigger than his face, embracing the chaos of the water with pure joy. Nearby, elderly people are playing in those same waves like they’re children themselves. Their smiles are honest. Their laughter is genuine. They’re not worried about interviews or accommodations or traffic or the future.
They’re just… present.
I can’t resist. I join them.
I wade into the Mediterranean, and for the first time since arriving in Cyprus, I feel something shift inside me. The cold water. The strength of the waves. The sun on my shoulders. The laughter of people around me—strangers brought together by the simple pleasure of the sea.
I feel like a kid again.
It’s a small thing. A moment. A decision to put down the anxiety and just be for a few minutes. But small moments like this—these are the moments that remind me why I’m here. Why I’m building my trading skills. Why I’m determined to master this craft and eventually have the resources to own a boat and spend my retirement years sailing these waters.
Because it’s not really about material possessions. It’s about having a goal that makes you push harder every single day. It’s about creating something meaningful through discipline, learning, and skill development. And it’s about knowing that when you achieve that goal, you’ll be able to stand on a beach like this and feel completely at peace—having earned it through dedication and excellence.
That’s what I’m really trading for.
The Journey Ahead
I arrived in Limassol two weeks ago with a goal: become a skilled trader, and before retirement, have the means to own a boat and sail the Mediterranean on my own terms.
This blog will document that journey. The wins and the losses. The interviews and the learning experiences. The beautiful beach days and the challenging nights. The practical lessons about trading strategy, risk management, and skill development. And the deeper lessons about building a life worth living through commitment to growth.
I won’t promise this will be easy. It won’t be. I’m transitioning from manufacturing work to trading in a new country. I’m learning new skills. I’m immersing myself in markets and analysis while working full-time. I’m challenging myself in ways I’ve never done before.
But as I sat in the Mediterranean today, surrounded by joy and genuine human connection, I remembered something important:
The goal isn’t perfection. The goal is progress. And the goal is never forgetting why you started.
So here’s to the journey ahead. To trades and waves. To interviews that teach you lessons and beaches that remind you what really matters. To small moments that shift everything.
Welcome to Trading for a Boat. I’m glad you’re here.
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