Living traveling, Tripluca.com

Some readers will be shocked for a long time because of this blog to make a sensational revelation.

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I have a double life.

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Well, yes.
I have known you as a traveler, who in 2000 moves to and fro in search of something undefined but evidently it is nice to know that I'm looking for.

In fact, I move 89, when there was no internet and my deeds did not have the opportunity to be declaimed. One day, after retirement, I will write about that too.

My double life is that they are a traveler who is a resident.
The traveler you know, it writes reports (commonly called blogs), post photos of low quality films and turns absurd to denounce the excessive power of the police (Cobretti).
Then, when I get home, I took off my suit and I would refer SuperViaggiatore pajamas. I sit at my computer and work.
Ie I get up in the morning, carrot juice and coffee, and down to beat the keys in front of the screen. Towards noon he eats something, a little TV and away again to beat. Around three o'clock I get a little maliconia, like horizons, to be around, but then I go because it really suits me also to work, because it is preliminary to the next trip.
Because the suit SuperViaggiatore waiting for me.
And do not write, of course, what should I talk? Pajama? (Also because I'm not really in my pajamas).

And today I was thinking about the last months of World Tour, when I asked myself: "What now?".
I had achieved total freedom. I was around for a year, I had steady income that would allow me to stay around forever ... and I entered into the routine of the journey.
You think about it? Years and years of effort to escape the routine of the office and I am in that journey.
Here it is difficult to follow, I know, I can understand only those on the road for months, perhaps Claudio, Pedro or anyone else.
But it was successful. In fact, at the end of the book "The Long Summer," writing in a way perhaps a little rhetoric:

Second Crisis of Red Traffic Lights
Today when I stop to semoforo are rarely at the wheel and I do not see more sunsets.
Those sunsets I have met and exceeded for a while now.
Today the challenge is finding new ones.

And while looking for new ones first met Lek and then my mom goes away for good.
And I find myself facing a new challenge, that of not being re-absorbed by the single thought, but to retain the freedom to travel and consequently to think.

Because if you're traveling, you're free to think.
From home is much more difficult.

Months went by the challenge of 2006 promises to be difficult. I'm home with my father, port Lek here for a month, then I go for a few weeks.
I can already see commuting between last year and Bangkok, caught in a grip of suffering.
Already beginning to think about the past and the future with tenderness. It 'the first step towards depression. And 'this the only true love and respect you if you do not poison the future.

Then came a moment when I almost threw in the towel, stay away from the trip, for a while (which then becomes that little bit more, and your youth is over).
Do not remember when, but I felt caged. And no one was holding me prisoner. Sure, I could pick up and leave, abandoning the family and love, but for what? For free and find myself with guilt and remorse for having thrown away something important?
And again in the routine of the journey?

The challenge was to balance.
In September I went to India and I understood.
I needed around two months, with Lek. Eventually I made peace with myself and I was again full of positive energy.

I was better than during the Second Crisis of red light, then I passed.

Today is a skipper. In the winter months (although summer) prepare the boat in the summer (even if they are winter), I navigate.
Compared to before I can work harder and thus earn more money, maybe in the future maybe even buy a house and make it the TripCentre. And when I travel, I do so with more intensity, as in the beginning, when he was an achievement to do so.

At 28 I told myself that I wanted to stop thinking that the watermelon was over and I had already come to know that white cucumber.
And I went to Australia, where I rituffai on the cake.

And since then has been a continuous struggle to escape the taste of cucumber. Every now and then resent it, but then I always find a way to find the sweet.
The seeds they spit.

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(No, the seeds have no metaphorical value, you can stop thinking .. huh huh huh!)

Airport of Delhi, December 1
Ok, I just turned on the computer and checked if by chance came up to put the wireless (obviously not) in an international airport in a country famous for the progress of its IT industry, found that there is not even an internet point , and then write the final report of India.
Lek has just started, back in his Thailand under military occupation (this is so scary), and every cell of his body trembles for the assimilation of the first Tom Yam Kung (shrimp soup).
There are 7 pm, from 4 am here and my flight is at 3 am. This makes me a pariah airport, because I can not get to the departure (there where they do the check-in) and I have to be satisfied with the waiting room outside, where I pay 30 rupees as my flight is among more than 5 hours. As time passes and more will go up to grade: in three hours I will no longer pay (but I already paid), I can get between five and eight in the Departures fly above the clouds in the company of Rama and Krishna.
Meanwhile, I face the purgatory. Here are even doing the work and I have to breathe dust.
Can I say? But all to go fuck !!!!!!! Sorry, I say this without malice or anger, but sometimes it takes just to keep their minds alert.

I just saw a mega mosquito holding on to my backpack. Do not tell me that I spout dengue fever right now. The cast.

Farewell to India, we experienced a few days ago, in Gokarna. We were on the Tuk Tuk to go to the station, we had just greeted the family friend Lek, the sun was going down (no, or we put a sunset or moving the reports do not work. But he was really about to set) and "the landscape was imbued the colors of late afternoon, and evocative of a deep nostalgia for a past time, perhaps ever lived "(this is a pseudo-quotation, ie the phrase is mine and I've never read it, but somewhere has surely already been written). I looked out right and left Lek.
At one point I ask how he is around the stomach, and I see you crying.
Sorry, I do not want to capitalize on the tears of others to give a bit of verve to these reports bland, but as I watched, she and her Indian background that runs colored (saturated color ... etc. ..) back, I saw the perfect end of the journey .
Has not been easy for her this trip: the discomforts, the excessive attention of the Indians (after 3,200 where-are-you-from and 12,543 incollatissimi eyes, scleritis also Gandhi), the food and the constant traveling had not supports some aspects of India.
But then he saw an India Gokarna different and was very happy.

And as I watched these tears, I realized that was the final approval.
Then I mentally associated farewell. I said goodbye and the rest was news, up to now (I said goodbye, let me go!!).

Now they will go home a few days and will realize the greatest gift: having traveled two months is like having lived six.
And maybe the other gift that always gives you the way: more freedom to be yourself, because you were temporarily under the influence of ultraviolet rays that shoot conditioning company. Now maybe he will feel.

I, for my part, I felt a little bear, without emotion. That is to say she was crying and I could not find emotions inside me. So off to wonder then why trip. Ie if you do not travel for excitement, for what travels? But the answer there: travel because it is the only solution.
If you have time to explain it better, now I'm tired.

We return trip. Without a few hours in Mumbai, we plunged into a net point.
While a job comes up and asks me:
- "I can find the email in Gibson Internet? I was angry and I lost. "
I look at him. And 'serious.
- "I do not think that it is available on the Internet"
- "Been XXXXYYYYY. It 'a type known in the Mel Gibson XXXWWW here in Bombay. "
- "I'm sorry, but I do not think you can find the mail."
- "Hmm .. ok, thank you anyway."