Praha Praha Praha!

how do you find a chevy in germany? look for the slowest car on the autobahn. the pretty girls that picked us up munich started our great day. they dropped us off at the mecca of petro stations, the onramp went on forever. perfect for slow traffic to laugh at us dancing with enough room to pull over. in minutes every hitchhikers dream came true for us in the form of an RV. Fk yeah! it didnt last long, but i still scratched it off the list. a german engineer crossed us over the invisible line they call a national border and we were now in the czech republic. eastern europe wasnt as rebuilt as the western, theres was a gloomy chill that penetrated my jacket. it was cold and even in the daylight everything seemed so grey. miguel returned from the store yelling "HAHA! WERE IN PARADISE MY FRIEND!". after taxes and comission his 5 euros turned into 108 crowns. we had a good needed laugh but the money conversion really threw us off. we argued for longer than we should have over the price of a czech car in euros and it began to get dark. a truce for street smarts vs book smarts. the citizens of this new country seemed to be stiff, no regard for others. even couchsurfing ahead of time proved to be harder than expected. miguel miraculously found us a host in the capital and i was dreading the thought of another horrible night in the rain. we HAVE to keep moving! just then a sexy blonde woman pulled in and went inside. this is it, every egg in this basket, ill beg if i have to. she came out seeing our great big smiles with our sign *PRAHA* aiming straight at her. she couldnt resist but to waive us in. how far are you going? we asked. she smiled and pointed to the sign, we would be there in a few hours fkn ay! her oversized sunglasses, tight jeans and heels made it look like she must have came from LA. nevertheless, conversation was difficult, she spoke a thick mix of english, german and czech. we werent on the autobahn anymore, but it didnt stop her from stepping on it. i asked her if she like to drive fast. she replied "is no prohblem" blushed and confessed "one tyme, poliz stop [gestured her car] and i giv massaj [giggles] no teeket". oh really? she grinned, mounted the shades on her nose and turned up the death metal. miles down the road she picked up a call and spoke to the man on the other side in czech. whatever she said had a naughty tone to it, language barriers only hold me back so much. "is that your boyfriend?" i asked "yes [chuckles] i hav menny boyfrens" she blushed again. we passed prague city limits and she offered a tour of the city. within ten minutes she had zigzagged through downtown flying by pedestrians "this iz old bridge; this iz museum of communism; this iz where michael jackson concert; this iz hotel obama stay" proudly showing off her home. dankyeh! "no no no!forr yu, no prrohblem" she kept reassuring us. we borrowed her phone and called out host max. eager to help she took back her phone for directions, but only made it harder since he was canadian and spoke little of her language. "beeforr yu go, yu kall kay" and handed us a business card. massages; sports injury, stress, pleasures... no way, could she be an escort? she let us off on his block around eleven. miguel went looking for max while i waited beneath the lit entrance of an alberts. a suspicious man came out of the darkness and handed me a strange alcoholic drink in a styrofoam cup. i suspected the tobacco lured him to me so i gave him a cigarret to roll. we had a broken conversation, his missing teeth and drunk state of mind started to intimidate me. miguel appeared from the shadows with our host for my rescue. max was a metal head, long dirty blonde hair past his shoulders, a sleeve tattoo of a wizard in an epic battle against a fierce dragon, and he even had a piercing high on his nose between his eyebrows. he was a really awesome guy, couldnt help but to laugh about our prostitute story. we went out for drinks on him, and a little bit of pool. three straight games of pure suck, then back to his flat. it was Nov 2nd,one month into the adventure, ill never forget because there was a shooting on the 6th floor of the PCL at UT austin. wow i remember i would always hangout there. next day we explored prague, this city was pretty amazing with all its ancient buildings. this one bridge was there hundreds of years before america was even born. prague castle was magnificent up close as well as from afar. continuing as cheap tourists, we boarded a train along with a few uniformed ticket checkers. Fuck! I panicked and jumped off.
miguel was too cool to care so he stayed put. the doors closed and he was gone. Fuck Fuck Fuck. Since he was the one that found our host, he had all his contact info; address, email, and phone number. all i had was tram number 7 to go on without the name of the stop. all alone and lost, i hopped from tram to tram, touring the city free for hours. it got dark and i started to worry. by mere chance i thought i recognized a street, why didnt i pay more attention when we left? yes this is it! miguel had only beat me by about 45 minutes "where the hell were you?" they asked "me? oh i was still exploring. alright fine, i was lost all day".
we cooked a vegetarian dinner and went out to the disco. his friends veronica and roman despite their warm welcoming personalities,were more goth than him. they dressed heavily in black trench coats, accessorized with chains and tall boots. you know, the eye liner, moshing, cross burning type. i hadnt come across people this into hard music, impressive i admit, these guys are wicked! veronica was beautiful, i was infatuated with her style, she was a demon princess that didt take shit. roman was eighteen, intelligent enough to speak 6 languages with a zangief build. i doubt any man at any age would want a fight with him. i snuck in a beer from the market across the street and poured it into an empty glass at the table, about a fourth of the price at the bar. europe on a budget! it got late and the trains stopped running so we kept drinking until they ran again. max told us the ticketers were a joke, the most they could do was call the police and hope theyd arrive to fine us. one uniformed man tried to stop me but i was able to juke around him. what? i dont hear anything. no fine for me thanks. frustration grew between miguel and i. we were attached at the hip for weeks and it was starting to show. he was pissing me off when they would ask us where we were going next and he would reply with "well I'M going here and I'M going there". i wanted to confront him but never managed it. time was against us, our plane would be flying off in a month from barcelona to argentina with or with out us. Berlin was the capital of germany, one last city to check out before racing towards spain.

wilkomen zum oktoberfest!

we left zurich that night, but didnt leave switzerland. stranded again we sought an improvised campground out of sight behind a gas station. for dinner we cooked a bag of intant rice, mixed with a can of corn, toast and nutela for desert. the weather was perfect, this was better than a shtupid hostel. the next day we were back on route before getting a chance to stretch. our drivers, two of coolest ladies heading to see family in germany. they had been friends for decades, both fluent in five languages. we had a quick pit stop and shared childhood stories and fruit snacks. they talked about checkpoint charlie, the fall of the berlin wall and how buildings used to not have restrooms built in. they hitch hiked in their time, pleased to see we were doing the same from across the world. leaving switzerland we spent ten minutes driving through austria, and arrived in munchen an hour later. the roads were now dominated by classy BMW's and Volks Wagons. they stopped at the airport early in the morning, took a quick picture and wished us good luck as they waived good bye. you see, who said hitch hiking is scary? we headed underground and hopped on a train going downtown. blackriding made me nervous, there was no fine, it was jailtime. with each stop, more people wearing wonderful outfits would populate the train. everyone was in on it, from the kids to the elderly, as if i walked into the set of beauty and the beast. this oktoberfest thing was bigger than anything i could imagine. we unboarded at the HBF station, safe from the law, and found a restaurant with wifi. jorge was a friend from back home now studying in berlin. he was waiting for the past couple days so getting in touch was the priority. checking our mail, he left a message instructing us to meet at the main entrance of the festival, however we were a day late. with no other options we messaged him to try again. the festival was incredibly huge, hard to not lose anyone in the masses. the carnival rides and food stands came alive while everyone was getting their beer on. we took turns standing guard at the entrance and wandering into the fair, admiring and dreading its capacity. how the hell are we going to find this guy?? we spent about 6 hours of fruitless searching meanwhile taking spicy curry vurst sausage breaks. vilkomen zum oktoberfest! we gave up at midnight and the worst part was being stuck in the city with no host. we set off into dark streets as intoxicated passerbys walked their way home. ok, plan B, we camp at a park! worst they can do is arrest us right? we made it to the entrance of a few square blocks of vegetation. miguel saw a guy taking a leak and without shame asked "is this a park? hey man, is this, hey, is this a park?" the pisser dismissed him. a pedestrian turned around and with a thick bavarian accent said "ya, ziz is zeh park" he noticed our bags and connected the dots rather quickly. "yu need plaze to sleep?" he asked. without hesitation miguel replied " ya sure man that would be great". he analyzed us once more, like you would to a menu drunk at 3am, and said "ok, you stay, but one nite! komm". on the way to his place i practiced my deutsche "ich kommit aus texas" (i come from texas) which he replied with "ah! Tekzaz, chorch boosh, i done like chorch boosh" (GeorgeW.Bush) yea us either! sehr gut. "kahn you dzrrink bier?" he asked "i'll drink anything you put in front of me" i contested. he laughed, gestured in a 'get outta here' manner and shouted "fahk off! yankeez alwayz say zaht. fahk off!" we were all laughing, not knowing if he was serious or not, but continued on to his place. "hav you triet jerman bier?" he asked."no sorry, we just got to germany a little while ago"."Vaz? I sho you reelle jerman bier! no, no i sho you". we got to a pub on the first floor of his flat building and pitched in for a couple liters of real german beer, AugustinerBrau. we headed upstairs, pried the tops off *prosit* and drank. this brew was on the next level of beer. bold rich flavor that went down smooth, an instant favorite. "shhh, my flatmate zis a wanker" he made us some type of salami, yellow sausage and cheese along with fresh pretzels. bennys impression was of an overall funny asshole type of guy, only we was he was just joking about being an asshole. back in his room he put on some rap music and sang along "i got a hoee!!" by devin the dude. to my surprise sleep took him before me, poor guy had a headstart in the beer tent. we caught up on emails and couchsearching that night before nesting on the floor. we thanked him and left early the next morning to meet up with jorge. he was wearing a cowboy hat and boots and happy to see us at the HBF. we met his bff der volgermeister and picked up ingredients for a traditional bavarian meal on the way, consisting mostly of deliciously zesty beef and pork eaten with a side of bread. "we have to fill up, tonights a big night, prepare for heavy drinking!". we pre-gamed a liter and a half and headed to the festival. Lederhosen and dyrndles everywhere, liter glasses in everyones hands. singing, hugging and dancing on tables was encouraged. jorges friend johannes provided us with a couple seats at table of extremely high demand a close to impossible task in one of the overfilled beer tents, more like a mini stadium-restaurant-bar in one. A trru jerman dzrrinks NINE liters of beer! i was barely on my third :/. Our new friend pete from ny was feeling generous and bought a round for everyone. Prosit! i dont remember much after that. the next day, were loaded into an old school volks wagon van -correction- bus, and drove off to obersdorf where brohannes lived above a schnapps museum. out in the south countryside, mountains surrounded his home. his family welcomed us and we got to work in the kitchen, preparing for a mexican style feast for about fourteen. jorge was the head chef of this particularly comforting meal, everyone was stuffed with compliments to give. hiking time! johannes grew up exploring the forest, it didnt take much convincing to get us to go the next day. we awoke from under our bearskin blanket and drove over to the base of the mountain. this particular trek was for lightweights but the scenery was incredibly. the great outdoors; forest, trails, fresh air. what more could you ask for? the end of the trail hit a lakeshore with cold ass fkn water for swimming. everyone hesitated at first except johannes, who stripped down and jumped right in. it was revitalizing, but 20 minutes was all my puny body could take. sehr gutes vasser.**austria was just on the other side of the mountains** that night i went along with our new posse of snowboarders for a few beers. these guys arent kidding, theyre used to drinking beers by the liter all the time. we took turns with the karaoke microphone, finished a few pitchers and left to try out the different venues. the next day we were back in munchen, i had been messaging an old friend/ exchange student from high school, luckily she was in town for the festival. I spent the day with her and she joinded us for some drinks and live music. at sun up we were packed and ready for a destination, but where now? miguel and i heard nothing but great things about the city prague and figured it wouldnt be worth missing. leaving the city was easy but getting a ride in cold rainy weather wasnt. we tried for hours, even got pulled over by an officer in a BMW. no were not drug mules! we just want a ride. nightfall came and the cold got colder. i sought for a spot to camp while miguel mecilessly thumbed it in the rain. just give up man, lets put some food in us. the hot soup was filling, almost enough to put us to sleep in the leaky tent. we woke up freezing in a huge puddle, possibly the most excruciating night ive ever experienced. the sun came out and we were ready to leave munich behind. unaware of what was to come, we hopped in a car and headed east on the autobahn.

svitzerlund

a cardboard sign can be a lottery ticket, you never know what you may get. we were making great time as we tried out different gas station parking lots. one algerian driver wouldnt let us off his car before shoving 20 euros in our pocket. one driver was a professional cyclist, his hair freshly cut and stylish. he wore a tight pink trendy tee over his body (which you could find on any random underwear model). he liked migueltrunks' spanish accent, and blushed at all his jokes in their front seat world. i could tell miguel was just excited to be practicing real life french, but he can attract often attention by being his playful boyish self. customs waived us in and we were finally across the border after nightfall. this was entirely new land, almost as easy as changing the language settings on your cell phone. Switzerland! the eight french phrases i had learned would no longer be usefull. we found a nice hidden spot to set up camp, camoflouged our bags and walked into town. having extra cash we skipped dumpster diving and celbrated with a proper sit down dinner. our poor bodies could only be replenished with two entire pizzas each, best twleve euros spent! camping outside can be just as fun as sleeping indoors, the worst part is having to get up in the morning. the next day we had nutela sandwiches for breakfast and went back to work. our thumbs were in the air, we displayed our big smiles, but no luck. these fish werent biting. after several hours we blamed the gas station and left in search of a new spot. the highway was leading us as we looked for an on-ramp that didnt exist within walking distance. we gave up and ended up in the city. a passer-by noticed our struggle and recommend us to and asylum "they can give you money for a bus ticket" he said, i thought, wow this place is great. one of the government workers told us we reminded her of her son christian, a world champion in parkour. she reviewed our case and determined we werent refugees from a third world country so they turned us away. frustration grew after several hours on a ramp directed to zurich from downtown berne. dusk fell and we were forced to retrace our steps to the camp site. today was just not our day. we tried to be positive we'd be gone soon and hit the sac. the next day was awfully similar. same breakfast at the same gas station with the same sign. Stuck again! hours passed once more and our anticipation grew so much we thought about heading back to france. fuck switzerland not wanting to pick us up. we were giving up on hitchhiking, walking to cross the border to france and thumbed it one last time, except, this one took the bait.endorphins was flooding delight in our brain as we ran into the car. get us out of here, anywhere but here please. the old mand was kind and spoke soft with a thick swiss accent. he chuckled when we mentioned how difficult it was to hitch hike in switzerland and said "well be in switzerland in ten minutes, this is deutschland (germany)" what?? haha we talked about politics and he taught us a few swiss-german words. he dropped us off, danke shone, bitte shone. we were in switzerland, land of the famous pocket knife and secret bank accounts, for real this time. our next driver was a lovely older lady. "I like zeh young peeple" she reminded us in her cute accent. our sign read zurich but since she had chores we'd only be able to make it to her village around half hour southwest. she enjoyed our company and was eager to show us her arabian horses. we arrived at her house and helped walk her dogs. she went on cheerfully telling us wonderful stories of meeting her husband and her daughters growing up. miguel asked if he could use the internet and she gladly offered her office. in a flash she started pulling out pictures of her beautiful daughters. astrid is a singer, her band is on the top 5 charts in switzerland here's her myspace link. miguel yelled from in front of the computer, we turned and saw him sitting on the swivel chair with hands in the air. "i got us a host!" he said and started dancing. the lady was pleased with our attitudes and drove us to the address. before she left we exchanged emails and she even invited us to enjoy lake konstanz for a few days. we asked around for the strasse (shtra-zeh or street) and found the building. our host venessa buzzed and welcomed us to join the two australian couchsurfers. she was sweet, and adventurous while the aussie surfers were complete jar-head douche-bags. i felt ill and after a conversation with a few beers i went to bed. the aussies had first dibs on the couches but we didnt mind the hardwood floor as long as it was indoor. the next day the australians left and she took us on a tour of when she returned from work. the university she attended overlooked a great part of the city. the first thing i noticed was all the pointy buildings everywhere, this didnt look anything like mexico. we went by the river took pictures of some cool graffiti and talked about the history we were walking on. on the way home we stopped for some groceries and she whipped up a surprise dinner. a few of her local friends joined us for 1/2lb burgers with swiss cheese, only there the just call it cheese. the evening went well, she convinced us to stay an extra night. our friend Jorge would have to wait in munich.the next night, she took us to a massive abandoned factory turned into night clubs and art galleries. you would doubt the detailed murals on every wall were made with spray paint. we drank, danced to biggie smalls and came home late for a change. that night i didnt sleep in the living room. kissing got hot and heavy, hands were in all over the place. the lights and her panties simultaneously went off. this is great! so great,it didnt last very long. how embarrassing! this never happens, i swear! im actually kinda good, its just been a while. i was no longer a man and the sun started its way up so we cuddled and went to bed. she woke less than a couple hours later and got dressed. while she left for work, we slept in a little longer and hit the road after leaving a thank you letter. without paying we boarded a train that would take us closer to a highway. munich was around the corner,and oktoberfest, perhaps the greatest of beer festivals had just begun.

Dijon, like the mustard.

on the road again, heading away from the center of france meanwhile converting relationships with strangers into friendships. johan (yohan) was a great guy, born and raised in belgium. late twenties, thin and mannered, he now lived in auxerre. he was on his way back from a business trip to paris when he spotted us and didnt see us as a threat. driving into auxerre that night, we only caught a glimpse of the castles and cathedrals in the magical city. the three of us got along so well he took us in for the night, and even cooked dinner. flemish-french style pasta. he brewed us a pot of coffee and placed mini porcelain cups in reach on the four person table. i underestimated my tiny shot of concentrated coffee. we washed down dessert with vodka, appearantly it helps your digestive system, smoked a cigarette and went to bed. for breakfast johan bought us a baguette and a few crossaints and dropped us off next to a tollbooth. the brisk morning air was refreshing along with the crisp apples given away by the earth. the dew on the grass deteriorated our sign but it didnt affect us from getting a ride.
a dark volvo station wagon pulled over and the driver signalled us in. he spoke mostly french with broken spanish in between. we chatted on and when he got comfortable with the strangers in his car, he asked "le fume marijuana?"."un petite" i confessed. he made the global joint smoking sign and my grin confirmed his assumption. "de'accord" he smiled and pulled out his paraphanilia. he was driving so i naively offered to roll it." can you roll?" he asked in his language but i understood. "oui monsieur" i boasted, miguel adding to my hype in french. i thought piece of cake until he handed me kingsize papers, filters and tobacco. i wasnt used to this at all. by this time we were riding along winding hillcountry roads. up down left and right mixed together on pavement. i could only come up with a pathetic excuse for a cigarette. he chuckled at the sight of my inexperienced roll but it was smokeable so he lit it anyway. wow, wer'e actually doobie cruising out on the french countryside with this total stranger. maybe i was a little too influenced, but the scenery was incredible. farms, forests, and villages all clearly seen from afar. looking out the window i regreted storing my backpack along with my camcorder in the trunk, the footage would have been usefull. he dropped us off at a fast food joint in dijon and continued alone. our new host arrived to pick us up. he greeted us with a huge smile and showed us in his car. gregoire was wicked fun, vibrant with rythmn and raggea soul. humming, singing, snapping and dancing. on the ride to his parents home he was errupting with beatboxes every five minutes. we stayed in the center of the city in his ex flat with his ex flatmates, all students studying medicine at the university. that night i tried absinthe for the first time, sugar cube on fire and everything, then we all walked to a pub for a few drinks. the old architecture reminded me of mexico with a french tongue. we informed greg about our battery problem and he offered to put us up until it arrived. the next day his flatmates told us they were leaving town for a few days but we could still stay. i dont think we saw them after that. it was a week in their flat, spent exploring the cool little town unsupervised. at night we would roam the streets making friends and end up places.
in the day time, we followed arrows printed on the sidewalk for miles in search of the chuette, an antique statue of a good luck owl. to my surprise, the statue was only a few inches tall, dissapointing after an all-day urban trek. one of the days greg showed up with another couchsurfer and a couple of adolecents from belgium, lucas and arnaud. that night we almost got into a scuffle with a group of trouble makers. their group of morrocan-french vs. our new timid french-french friends. i couldnt make out whatthe angry moroccan said, but the tone in his voice got his point across and we split with the belgians. what is he holding behind his back? fuck it, goodnight. greg was also preparing for a trip only his would be a year long in south america. cool! we might be able to meet up in buenos aires. we joined in on the farewell party, which consisted of his talented friends jamming one last time before departure. our battery arrived which meant it was time to go. greg dropped us off at a roundabout and we were into another car in no time, france is great! through a series of rides we headed east towards munich, germany. there was just one big chunk of land mass in our way, they called it switzerland.

Next stop, Paris...

unloading in the underground station reeked of trash, graffiti and urine. after an all-night ride, finding a restroom was on top of the to-do list. under the toilette sign was a cashier who stopped us to charge a euro each. i don't understand why you would need money to relieve yourself, its ridiculous, no wonder it smelled like piss outside. we emerged from the underground station into another realm. the same sun shun bright that morning yet i didn't understand anyone, or anything. i felt so lost, what were these people saying to me? miguel saved the day by speaking conversational french, him and his fancy college education. our next step was predictable, whats the first thing you would want to see in Paris? map says champ de mars stop for the Eiffel tower. the liberal french just happen to be on strike that day, stopping most trains from running as scheduled. in theory this was awesome, citizens fighting to be heard, but in reality, it wasnt at all convenient. we bumped into commuters until the crammed train choferd us to our stop. and there it was, le torre eiffel, hadnt moved an inch since 1889.

I settled in and stood guard of our belongings at the park. my homie, miguel, went off with his laptop and no extra weight to figure out a plan. i still hadn't had any rest or food and lugging the 45 lb backpack everywhere i went didn't help any. fatigue set in and sleep took over, but i managed to keep my face covered while the sun baked the rest of my body. Miguel eventually came back bearing bad news of technical difficulties. part of our equipment, was his early model mac book which hadn't been used in some time and needed major software updating. we gave up searching for a host and found ourselves another hostel, where we met a group of cute Spaniard girls . this one was 26 euros per night, even the wireless internet the hostel offered was pricey but we didn't have any other choice. still desperate for food I found a sandwich stand and had me a 14 inch baguette, probably the best I've ever had (fuck those five-dollar foot longs). returning to our hostel, we befriend our roommates, Ali and Mike couple of guys from LA and Sean from New York City. downstairs a group of cute spanish girls invited us to tag along with a few australians teenagers for a casual drink. now things were looking up, enough reason to splurge on a couple of 2 euro bottles of wine. altogether we walked to a riverside spot by notre dame. the atmosphere was calm and welcoming, hundreds of youths in their cliques all along the river. deep in conversation, sharing several kinds of food, drink and smoke under the radiant city lights. there was even fireworks reflecting off the river passing by. this group of girls made it from basque country, a region of Spain, to enjoy a quick vacation before starting a new semester. luckily for Miguel and I, Mexican Spanish was our native tongue, while the English speaking Australians failed at keeping up conversation. they also spoke vasque, but they reserved it for secrets amongst themselves. sweet wine was flowing through our veins and romance started filling in the air. i ended coupling up with maddi, half drunk kissing on a sidewalk until five in the morning. dirty blonde, sparkling eyes, amazing smile with a sexy accent and only two inches taller. the next day we slept in so late we were awaken by a cleaning lady yelling in french. we must've been tired because we mindlessly paid another night and went straight back to bed. It was Sunday which meant most museums were free but by the time we got to the Louvre it was almost closing time. merde! still wandering, we found ourselves a store specializing in general outdoors and bought a couple of sleeping bags. we already had a tent, so now we were free from having to stay in hostels any longer. when we returned the girls were packed and ready to go but before they departed, i managed to spent some more time with maddi. though i resisted, i walked them to the train station, and kissed her goodbye.

since we didn't have much money, part of our plan was to sell pictures from a portable printer for extra cash. we found a canon store that would carry a portable battery we needed, but wouldn't be open for another day. the laptop was now up and running, Miguel had even found us a host in Dijon. there was a mini market close by and we returned from it with a loaf of bread, pasta, a few cans of beans and nutela (our European substitute for peanut butter). by no means was this fine cuisine, but for some reason i couldn't help but enjoy it. the next morning we redeemed ourselves with the staff by waking up early and checking out. there was a big day ahead of us, we needed our free breakfast and a head start. not wanting to spend anymore on the subway, we walked to the canon store with no luck. not only did they not carry the battery, we'd have to order it online. hearing the news, we had to evacuate immediately, no more wasting time in Paris. a few locals directed us to a highway, and we were off to it. we walked and walked and reached a point we thought would be good for hitch hiking. a few minutes later i was done making a sign with "Dijon" on it and our thumbs in the air. people smiled, laughed and even waved but didn't stop. hours passed and the sun crossed the the sky almost setting. paying yet another hostel was out of the question. still the first week and we each had spent a third of the total trip money, around 200 euros. how the hell were we going to survive almost four more months?

i was in need of a break so i sat on the concrete and sparked a cigarette. my legs oozed lifeless relief. i exhaled smoke and heard Miguel screaming for me. he ran for his bag and then back into traffic and jumped in the back seat of a Peugeot. i sprung to my feet ran to the sedan and jumped in the front seat. bonjour monsieur, merci merci beaucoup! our first foreign hitch! he offered to take us as far as Auxerre wherever that was...

I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move.
-Robert Louis Stevenson

And the adventure begins: London

I guess if I told you this much I should go on..


The stars aligned, an opportunity arose. I had my sights set on Europe and so did a friend of mine. only he had the experience I lacked. we decided on going together, bought a pair of plane tickets borrowed a couple of back packs and set off. I was only able to work off a months salary but according to my partner that was enough. the infamous age of "twenty one" crept up on me and a few days later i was flying overseas without adult supervision. up until then, never had I ever been on a plane. my first flight and my first delay, yay for me. like sex, it can be a little intimidating at first. starting with a rough take off its hard to imagine the bliss that comes after leveling and letting the imagery burn into your head. endless ocean of floating beauty, clouds as far as your eyes can take you. Or, as many may know, flying over a light polluted city at sundown can be equally breathe taking. it was sixteen hours of bag check ins and flight transfers before we arrived at heath row airport London. we picked up our bags and passed through strict immigration, stamped and set free. I'm actually here, in England! Fuck, I don't speak quid, time to change currency. its not a happy moment giving 20 US dollars and getting 10 UK lbs in return. I did this about three times. with no more income, the piggy bank set aside for this trip was now broken and beginning to drain with each and every transaction. we got on the tube beneath the airport and headed mindlessly into the city. jet lagged, we emerged from the Westminster stop around eleven o'clock with nowhere to stay and nowhere to go. I remembered a hostel from random research I did beforehand, so we walked the night streets looking for free wi fi to guide us there. we found our way to the entrance of smart russel square and bumped into a group of pretty blonde backpackers. Swedish? we exchanged emails and agreed to meetup. only, I lost their contact info and absolute knew nothing about Sweden yet. the young cashier rang us up, thirteen pounds with a ten pound deposit, fine. the journey had just begun, I wasn't ripe enough to know better. a youth hostel is exactly what you would expect it to be. sort of like a day care for high schoolers on an international field trip. I was amazed at the maze of underground bunker tunnels that led you to your room. the next morning we had complimentary toast with jam and tea. the rates had already doubled so we fled before thinking twice. a quick beat-box at buckingham palace and a few snapshots of the eye made us official tourists. we rode in red double decker buses, admired the classic automobiles, looked right before crossing streets and even went to look at pint prices in a pub. London was too expensive for us kids, we had to move on. in a failed attempt for a highway, we spent the next eight hours getting lost and spending all our money on the tube. the locals advised us to take a bus to a nearby town for hitch hiking, instead we took an over night bus directly to Paris (which we thought would double as shelter for the night). leaving the united kingdom that evening, the bus was loaded onto a ferry and shipped across the chilly English channel. we hit land two hours later, greeted in the wee hours of the night by french customs agents. Stamp! oui oui . i still hadn't any rest. my new bus mate kept our conversation going anyway, until arriving at dawn. barely the third day of travel and already the city of Paris first hand.

CLICK NEWER POST.......






Airline travel is hours of boredom interrupted by moments of stark terror.

Al Boliska

How I caught the bug.

It didn't start over night. My curiosity began when a girl (I was semi-serious about) and I decided to move to a small coast side town. only a couple hours drive and I didn't even notice I sparked a slow burning fuse of life changing experiences to come. After some time, I finally realized there had to be more, I needed to keep moving further. As if by lucky coincidence I was invited to stay with a friend in Austin for a few months. Time spent in the capital had me plenty involved in extracurricular activities. Though I wasn't a student, I managed to take part in the foreign cultural exchange. Parties mostly, but I took the chance absorb the subtle differences and similarities. They looked the same but spoke differently. These internationals with accents, like parallel beings from another dimension, where new to my surroundings. You mean to tell me there's entire countries filled with people like you? Have we really been living on the same planet? Where was I that I didn't notice? That's when I woke up. My curiosity grew hungry, starving even, to experience new territory. New terrain, climate, ecosystems, languages, lifestyles. To sum it up, new life period. New, at least to me.