Oh YES, he did make it to the arrival. Through rain, storm, lightening, darkness, coldness, swollen ancles and many other obstacles. He did make it from Denmark, through Italy and all the way to the finish-line in Milan. 42 of the 198
professional cyclists gave up along the way, but not Keith. I am empty for words but full of memories, inspiration and awe… How incredibly exciting it could be to take some risks in life. One should keep saying YES #25.)…
Continue reading Arrivo
A big fat toad jumped ahead and led the trail through the dark, misty jungle. I had no idea where the toad and my dear friend from college, Daria Boone’s mum, were taking me. But as soon as we reached the gazebo, a little hut with a big doublebed and a bathtub, with only mosquito nets separating the room from the jungle, the hairs on my skin raised like obedient soldiers. There is something about this gazebo, a short walk from the house by the tree on “The Land”…
Continue reading Mother Boone
The American immigration officer: “Why do you look Chinese at this photo? This is not you! Come with me for an extra security check.”
Continue reading Chinagirl in the sky
It is hard to recall all the time we have spent thinking about the future. And either our thoughts about “what-will-come” have been of concern or excitement, these past thoughts seems to be gone once we are in that future. As soon as we enter a new place, the thinking that we’ve had about that place is already a faded memory, collected and erased in the pile of hours spent on being somewhere other than we are. And this is the misfortunate downside of the fortunate upside of not having decided a single destination of my trip in advance. My mind is often occupied by that little bird who wants to wander off to the next destination.
Continue reading Right now I’m in paradise
Luckily they recognize me from my Facebook-pictures, and scream out my name. The airport-hallway is full of Dominicans with flags and signs, and I must have looked confused as I’m coming out of the departure-exit. Or so they describe me. The two sisters Sara and Sabrina, born and bred in the Dominican Republic (DR), have invited me to stay with them and their family.
Continue reading Sister sisters & love-motels
I am wearing my nicest colorful dress, a flower in the hair and my finest make-up. I am going on a date in Curacao, one of the Dutch Antilles in the Caribbean.
Continue reading One night in Curacao
Adicora, the quiet beachtown in Venezuela (slash Cuba), is a village filled with pastel-colored houses. Most of them are empty vacation-houses, but the few of them that are occupied, are the homes of the sweetest most hospitable Venezuelans. The next president-to-be (?) of “Europe”, the trash-guy, a lovely German couple. And the surfing twin; A german who was part of founding the surfsport back in the days.
Continue reading Adicora and the surfing twin
Convinced that Ciudad Perdida (literally ‘Lost City’) was infected with bad energy, the oldest indiginous group in Colombia, the Tyronas, decided to close the city for a few months in order to cleanse it through their ceremonial practices. Then they opened it up for visitors again this fall. We decided to take the one possible route to see the mysterious abandoned town: A week-long transcendent treck through the tropical jungle of Sierra Nevada.
Continue reading The Lost City
Last night, Alef (a friend from Fortaleza) and I packed his car full of milk and crackers and drove around Salvador to hand out to the misfortunate. To kids who are born into a lifetime of struggle in the street… My idea of christmas is simple: It is too love others and to be with people that you love. And most likely you are loved in return…
Continue reading Milk and crackers
André and Itacaré. And André tried to convince me that Itacaré had become so touristy that I shouldn’t go. But I had to see it for myself. My romantic vision of picturesque beaches, Virgin Atlantic rainforest, surfbreaks, mellow hippies & surfers and a beautiful little village could only be dismissed by me… I’ve heard that you can’t force a donkey to do (or avoid) something (s)he doesn’t want. Hrmfff… So I went. And allthough nature and surfbreak remains the same, with many true souls, it is a feeling of a dense energy and a forced hippievibe here. Some are just a bit fake.
And hey, is there a Bob-Marley-look-alike-contest going on? Competing under the parole: “We’ve turned our backs to the shitty society, and wanna stay backpacked, dreadlocked and unwashed 4-ever!”
The touristy Bob Marley’s are surfing, skating, zip- and slack-lining. Talking about life, love, vegan food and ecofriendly stuff, allthough they flew inn with carbon-dioxide-emissioned longhault airbuses. But it is definitely a mix here, between these cliches and the real deals. And a lot of good things happens here too. For example yesterday’s reggaefestival at one of the beaches… After my swim, I was hanging out on the beach as the sun was about to set. I listened till I was musically content. I read my book till I was read and then I went to a baiana (Bahian aunt) who feeded me till I was fed, with a local dish rhyming with André, Itacaré and cliché: Acarajé (bean and shrimp fritters).
I’ve started to get a cold, so I praise thy lord and Bob Marley that I’ve been the only one around in my 8-bed-dorm-room during the two previous nights. Now, off to some new destination… But what is the lesson #14 learnt today? Well, I’d better listen to André.