So I write to you all from inside the old city of fes, in the northern center of morocco.
my legs are tired, my body a bit weak from a long day of cyling in the moroccan +40 heat, but I have things to write, so I will share :)
For me travel is exploration
Travel is meeting humanity at its point of beauty
Its experiencing new cultures
Tasting new and different cuisine
Its feeling the grace and the beauty of children’s universal smiles and curiousity regardless of what country I walk
Its deciphering between those who are sincere,
and those who have hidden agendas
Normally, my intuition for seeing the truth in others in spot on
This tremendously helps when I must be stern and difficult with an abrasive vendor or haggler, but also open my heart tremendously when trust can be formed within a matter of minutes of meeting someone.
Travel also puts me in situations, forcing me to grow
Forcing me to find points of vulnerability, where my ego has dissipated and all I am left with his simple heart expression.
I find as I mature in this human body form, I desire additional experiences that force me to find this vulnerability, see what abstract judgements I have formed, and move through the experience with a notion of thankfulness and simple appreciation.
The other challenge I occasionaly enjoy is pushing the limits of my body temple. These are often stories I tend to hold back, for the look of utter worry that surrounded my mother when I told her my story of being carried out of the Himalayas on a Yak: I choose not to ever have that look across her face again. For my periodic facebook updates, are more for her, than anyone else, for I know every morning, while I travel, she checks my facebook just to make sure I am well and have updated at least in the past week or so...
And sometimes these challenges, are spirit driven, just to feel the spark of life and joy at my fingertips. Such as, just a few weeks ago, I had a scheduled day of arrival into Almeria, Spain to meet a friends sailboat for some sailing adventures down to morocco. This day of May 1 was not firmly established, but I always try to be a man of my word and did my best for this arrival date. The first hiccup in this plan was realizing that the specifically scheduled ferry leaving from Cagliari, Sardinia to valencia, spain, was simply a figment of a websites imagination. However, this was the same website, where I booked other ferries in Europe, so my disapointment was decent, but such is travel.
So, I picked up my biycle, cycled through the mountains of Sardinia and arrived in time for the ferry to Barcelona. This was certainly a blessing, as I had my most enjoyable ride in Sardinia. The terrain, the people, the wild camping, all of it left a firm impression of joy throughout my body.
Barcelona: Well brilliance, hectic, vibrant, all descriptions that will never quite put words to such a magical city. Again, thank you journey for taking me to this city of Catalan love!
Monday morning: I arrive at the Barcelona train station, bicycle in hand, for the 800 km or so to almeria, seemed a bit much for one day...
Next hiccup: I am informed by the train employees that bicyles are not allowed on the train (at least the one going directly to Almeria). This was also strange for me, as I researched clearly on their website and it indicated bicylettes were allowed. Well, ok, it is becoming incresingly difficult to make this May 1 arrival date, and that little voice of intuition had already in the previous days been speaking thoughts that maybe this sailing trip was not going to be a fit for me. But, the sometimes stubborn side of me, just continued to press on: So one full day of local trains through the countryside of eastern spain was delivered to me on a platter!
Fastforward to 2300 hours on 30APRIL after a day of being on the train. I got to the closest city to almeria via local train: Aguilas, which is still 150 km away from almeria. So in my head, I know I can easily wait to the next day and arrive in the evening after a long day of cycling. I know May 1st was a rough guideline, so its not a matter of time. I leave the train station and just decide to start riding. I have never done any long distances at night. I figure I will ride until I am tired, find a camping spot near the coastline, and finish the rest the next day. So I begin: 20 km, 40 km, and I begin to have a thought: wouldn’t it be brilliant to ride through the night and arrive in the morning. The moon was shining, the traffic was low, essentially the roads were my own, apart from a truck driver or two...
So, while navigating my way through the dark streets, I get a bit turned around and decide my best immediate track to almeria, is on the main highway. In a bit of a haze, and a self assuring way, I see the sign at the highway that clearly has a picture of a horse, a biycle, and a few other things. I think wow, a road just for me...
Well, of course I was wrong, but who would know, it was the middle of the night and I could probably act like a confused tourist if polizia were even awake to stop me...
So I rode,
and I rode
and about 150 km later I arrive in almeria and its 6 am, and its polizia free.
Whatever I have accomplished, I am not sure, but again I realized the power of the mind and intention in this process. For me it was a spirit led decision that pushed my body and my mind, and my senses, and the accomplishment is the knowing that I am capable of such feats. In terms of security, safety and my mom’s mind and well being, this is not a feat I will repeat, but the joy I experienced when arriving in almeria after an all night ride: simply priceless for my soul’s journey and growth.
And next blog to come, one’s experience of being overwhelmed by the cult of love....
