We didn’t set out to find home.
We thought we were just passing through.
When we arrived in Menorca, we had just left Santiago, Chile — crossing continents with our 10-day old son, two daughters still small enough to carry, and our lives packed tightly into memory and motion. What we found here felt like a pause at first. A breath. A quiet place to regroup with the launch of our “family start-up”.
We didn’t yet know that it was more than that.
We are Colby and Brycelaine, both originally from California. We met years ago at Oxford University — a serendipitous encounter that, like all good stories, changed everything. Since then, we’ve travelled the world, worked across countries and time zones, building a life together. We’ve always chased purpose. But Menorca gave us something more.
It gave us belonging.
We fell in love with the island — not with its picture-perfect beaches or postcard quiet, though those, too, are easy to love — but with its rhythm. The way life here moves slowly, but never aimlessly. The way children are not just tolerated, but embraced. The way families gather in the square, elders welcome at every table. Menorca knows how to hold you — and how to let you grow.
We didn’t recognize the place — but rather a name.
It started with a name. Pons. On storefronts. On buses. On street signs. A name that had lived, half-jokingly, in our own family folklore — “we come from the Isle of Pons, somewhere near Africa.” A tale told in passing, without coordinates or map.
But here it was, everywhere.
We traced it — not with urgency, but with wonder. And in the island archives, we found him: Pedro Pons, our ancestor. A man who left this island in the 1840s and sailed to the United States, where he would soon thereafter fight in the American Civil War. And just like that, the story folded in on itself.
This island where we had come to raise our children was the same island where our family had begun.
We are raising our future in the land of our past.
Ten years on, Menorca is not just where we live — it’s part of who we are. It has taught us how to slow down, how to live more gently, how to root deeply. It has shown us that sustainability is not a trend, but a value. That the best way to honour a place is to protect it. That tourism should be humble. Local. Circular. Kind.
And so we created Go Menorca. Not as a guidebook, but as a gesture. A way to share what we love — carefully, respectfully — with others who seek the quiet magic of this place.
We believe in local business. In family. In the rustle of olive trees and the return of the swifts each spring. We believe in looking closely. Walking lightly. And always asking: What does the island need from us?