As the year comes to a close, we wanted to pause for a moment and simply say thank you.

Project ÆGIR started as a very personal decision — two people and a dog asking themselves whether it’s still allowed to try living differently. Since going live, we’ve seen something quiet but meaningful: people taking time, reading carefully, and following without noise.

This project was never about urgency or scale. It’s about intention, patience, and the willingness to try — even without guarantees.

Wherever you are spending these days, we wish you a calm end to the year and a new one with space for your own dreams — whether they stay dreams for now, or take their first small step forward.

Thank you for being here.

Pepíno, Renata & Hubert 🐾

On Monday, we had a call regarding the website phase of Project ÆGIR.

It was one of those conversations that start with genuine enthusiasm.
The discussion was professional, constructive, full of ideas.
There was interest in structure, direction, long-term vision — exactly what you hope for when talking about something that is meant to become more than just a website.

And then I repeated something I had already shared before:
that the realization of the website depends on the successful outcome of the campaign.
That this phase exists only if the idea itself is supported first.
That at this stage, belief comes before invoices.

That was the moment when the atmosphere shifted.
The excitement cooled.
The questions faded.
And the final sentence — “Reach out once the campaign is completed” — quietly said everything.

I’m not angry.
I don’t blame anyone.
I understand that companies need to make money.

Still, it left me disappointed.

Not with a single company — but with a broader pattern.
With how often interest disappears the moment things are not financially guaranteed.
With how rarely people ask why before they ask how much.

Project ÆGIR is not being built to be fast, easy, or comfortable.
It’s being built because it makes sense.
Because it has a story.
Because it is rooted in values that don’t fit neatly into spreadsheets.

Maybe this makes me old-fashioned.
Maybe idealistic.
But I still believe there are people and teams who can look beyond secured budgets and fixed timelines — who understand that some things must be built slowly, carefully, and with conviction.

This project isn’t for everyone.
And Monday reminded me of that.

And perhaps that’s exactly how it should be.

— Pepíno

From the outside, Project ÆGIR might look like “just another website”.
In reality, it’s slowly turning into something much bigger.

Right now, we’re building the foundation. The solid, boring-but-essential part that nobody sees — and that decides whether everything later will work smoothly… or fall apart.

Phase 1 – Getting the basics right

Phase 1 is about creating a place that feels trustworthy and real.

This is where:

• the story of Project ÆGIR lives

• the Logbook shows what’s actually happening behind the scenes

• the Finance Log keeps things transparent

• the Crew gets a face (and a dog)

• supporters appear on the Wall of Fame

• and user accounts quietly prepare for what’s coming next

No fireworks yet.
Just a clean, solid base that doesn’t need to be rebuilt later.

Think of Phase 1 as the shipyard phase: measuring twice, cutting once.

Phase 2 – When things start to feel alive

Phase 2 is where Project ÆGIR stops being “a website” and starts becoming a place.

Profiles get smarter.
Supporters get more visibility.
Subscriptions and merch appear.
And the whole platform starts to feel… social.

This is where the fun part slowly sneaks in.

Æ-book – our own little universe

Despite the name, Æ-book is not a book.
It’s our own community space.

Think of it as a Project ÆGIR Facebook, but without the noise, ads, or algorithms trying to sell you something every three seconds.

In Æ-book:

• people can connect, talk, and share

• discussions actually stay on topic

• supporters can see and find each other

• and being part of the project feels… visible

Profiles won’t stay boring either.
Over time, they’ll evolve:

• visual upgrades

• badges

• prestige levels

• subtle “status” elements that grow with involvement

Not childish gamification.
More like quiet recognition — “you’ve been around, and it shows.”

Why we’re doing it this way

We don’t want a quick hype platform that burns out after a few months.
We want something that can grow slowly, naturally, and still make sense years from now.

Phase 1 builds trust.
Phase 2 builds connection.
And everything after that builds community.

If you’re curious — stick around.
If you like the idea — support helps.
And if you enjoy watching something grow from the ground up… you’re already part of it.

It’s official: the campaign is live.
No turning back now.

And even better — we already have our first backer.
Someone out there believed in the idea enough to support Project ÆGIR with a very generous 25 CHF. And no, that’s not sarcasm. Every single contribution at this stage matters more than it might seem from the outside.

So: thank you. Seriously.
Being the first one always takes a bit of courage, and we’re genuinely grateful for that early support.

We hope this is just the beginning and that more people will jump aboard as the project unfolds. Step by step, wave by wave — that’s how expeditions usually start.

The course is set.
Let’s see where the wind takes us.

This week was anything but quiet.
While it might look calm on the surface, behind the scenes things were moving… a lot.

Instead of sailing, drilling holes or breaking something expensive, we spent the week doing something far less romantic but absolutely necessary: planning. Proper planning. The kind that saves time, money, and nerves later on.

We mapped out the entire website structure – public pages, admin areas, finance transparency, Wall of Fame, user profiles, design system, and even things that won’t see daylight until much later. Not as a fancy mockup, but as a real, working architecture that can actually grow without collapsing on itself.

All of this was prepared as a solid handover for a company that’s currently our hot candidate. The goal wasn’t to impress them with buzzwords, but to show that we’ve done our homework and that this project is meant to last longer than the latest web trend.

On Monday, we have the call. We’ll talk tech, design, scope, and—yes—money. Then we’ll see if we’re on the same wavelength and if this collaboration makes sense for both sides.

No shortcuts, no half-solutions.
Just steady progress, one step at a time.

Stay tuned.

and instead of recharging, we spent most of it typing, replying, comparing, and negotiating with several companies that might potentially build our website.
For the first time, it feels like a real favorite is starting to emerge — someone who actually understands that Project ÆGIR isn’t a “template job,” but a living project that will grow and age together with two people and one dog.

Meanwhile, we kept fine-tuning our own site.
A few new lines of code were born, a few old ones disappeared into the digital abyss, and every now and then we had that moment of satisfaction when things finally click into place and you think: “Yes… this is slowly turning into an actual ship.”

And then… the ads.
Our tiny digital flare sent out into the night, hoping to find people who genuinely care about what we’re building — not just curious passers-by scrolling their feed.
After six long days, the campaign finally went online.
It’s learning, optimizing, calibrating…
and now we wait to see who appears on the radar first.

So that’s the weekend.
Another small step behind us, many more ahead.
Project ÆGIR continues — slowly, steadily, stubbornly.
Exactly how an expedition yacht for two people and one dog should be built.

After wrestling with words (and a certain four-legged editor who insisted on “more snacks in the story”), we finally finished Hubert’s full Bio in the Crew section.
It turned into a surprisingly emotional journey — part rescue tale, part comedy, part “How did this dog completely rewrite our lives?”

If you’re curious how a half-Shepherd, half-Labrador miracle from eastern Slovakia ended up steering the spirit of Project ÆGIR…
you’re warmly invited to read his story.

(Warning: may cause smiling, empathy, and a sudden desire to adopt a dog.)

We spent the whole day — and the night — building the Logbook section and the “About Us” (CREW) page. You know that feeling when work is flowing, things finally click, everything looks clean and elegant, and you think to yourself: “Yes… this is it. We’re getting somewhere.” By early morning, slightly caffeinated and dangerously optimistic, we had a beautiful structure. Pages that made sense. Layouts that didn’t look like someone glued them together during an earthquake. We were proud.

And then came The Backup.

The plan was simple:
Click the button. Save our progress. Sleep like victorious heroes.

Well… the backup had a different opinion about our victory.

Instead of saving everything, it decided to take our lovely, freshly polished website on a one-way trip into digital oblivion. The moment it happened, there was that famous half-second of silence — the same kind you get when your phone slips from your hand and you still hope gravity will be merciful this one time. It wasn’t.

In front of us: an empty website. Behind us: hours and hours of work. And somewhere in the room: Hubert staring at us with that “I warned you about computers” face.

But the best part?
The glorious backup we relied on was as empty as a politician’s promise. A folder named “backup” containing absolutely nothing except disappointment and a mild desire to scream into a pillow.

So… we rebuilt everything.
Again.
From scratch.
While laughing, because what else can you do at that point? It was either laugh or start drinking at 7 AM — and honestly, rebuilding the site felt slightly healthier.

In the end, the whole disaster turned into something good. The structure is better now. Cleaner. More refined. And as strange as it sounds, the chaos actually pushed us to finish things we would’ve postponed.

Sometimes the digital sea has to swallow your boat before you build a stronger one.

And this temporary little harbor — this simple page where you’re reading this — is part of that rebuilding. Until the Indiegogo campaign gathers enough wind to carry the full project forward, we wanted to show that we’re not sleeping, not waiting, not hoping for miracles. We’re working. Step by step. Day and night. Fixing, improving, creating… and occasionally destroying everything by accident and starting again.

But that’s how real journeys start:
not when everything goes right, but when everything goes wrong and you keep going anyway.

“No measurable tags found.”

“Conversion test triggered successfully.”

“Yes. I want to support this. I want to be part of it.”