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Crossing the Atlantic in a sailing boat

It had been a long time coming. My original plan was as follows: fly from Madrid to Gran Canaria, join a  (to be found) sailing yacht that participates in the ARC rally, arrive on the other side of the Atlantic ocean by the 20th of December, spend Christmas in the Caribbean. 

I arrived safely and happily at the other side of the Atlantic ocean on the 10th of March. A near three months difference. Finding a suitable boat departing from Cape Verde proved to be surprisingly easy, despite that "everybody" warned that the season would be over. A friend and I had the chance to be able to be picky and select the nicest yacht out of 3 without making any boat-searching effort. Two German gentlemen, my friend and I were the entire crew for the crossing of the Atlantic ocean in an 11 meter sailing boat.

The captain had never crossed the Atlantic ocean either, so everybody was tense and nobody knew what and how much we needed to buy. As a safety measure we decided to "overstock" a bit on food. Thijs weer hectic, and the day after carnival I literally had to run towards the ship in order to be on time for our departure.

I guess it took several days to realize what I was doing. The first two days we still saw land and other boats, but then it became quiet. Just the ocean, the sky and the four of us. Once a day we were joined by a single bird, we saw dolphins and a whale, loads of flying fish, but nothing else that indicated that the world around still existed. This lasted for 13 out of 17 days: total Zen.

We were four persons and had 2 hour shifts. This means that you've got to steer the boat for 2 hours and then have a 6 hours break and that for the entire day. After sunset we rotated the shifts so once every 4 days you'd have only one shift in the dark.

Experienced sailors warned me that crossing the Atlantic ocean can be boring. In addition, my iPad (also my eBook reader) ran out of batteries during the second day. Without possibilities to recharge (nor printed books) I feared for the worst boredom ever. Fortunately we had a great time, despite/because the ship was "dry" (no alcohol on board), except for one bottle of wine when we were half way. We sailed by hand, meaning no autopilot and only used paper maps (with GPS). The night shifts were especially amazing: full moon, up to 6 meter high waves and alone at the rudder with the rest of the crew asleep. For the entire trip we had the wind exactly from behind, which to the inexperienced ear might sound like a good situation, but this means that you have to watch continuously for dangerous jibes, which is tiring and exciting at the same time. Fortunately, I didn't get seasick, which was a big relief, as the trip would have been very long otherwise.

Inevitably, during each of my shifts, I'd have at least one of them: a "freak" wave. Coming out of nowhere, a gigantic wave would pick up our tiny boat and do with it as it pleased. It served as a reminder that the ocean, and not me was in charge of what was happening.

I have some experience in steering small open boats (none, with the ship size we were sailing), so I especially enjoyed the sportive sailing parts with stronger winds and high waves. Facing backwards, trying to steer as little as possible and anticipate the waves and wind was my favorite part. 

Those of you who are familiar with my cooking skills might be surprised that I participated actively  in the cooking (no, not just doing the dishes). It is surprisingly difficult to cook on the ocean and more than once we had to pick our almost ready dinner from the floor.

Crossing the Atlantic in a sailing yacht proved to be one of the highlights of my trip. Highly recommend for anybody with an interest in sailing or a 'different' kind of holiday. The cost? 75 euros for the entire 17 days trip (food, fuel, etc. included). Just do it.

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Tough love

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Cape-Verdians robbed me of my cash, credit cards and telephone after driving over my foot (and breaking it) with a car. Which meant I stayed on an island of 16 * 24 kilometers for 10 bloody weeks. Cape-Verdians stole my mobile phone (again) during Carnival. I paid near European-level rent for an apartment in a country where the average income is 100 euros per month. I made friends with a local guy, who then ripped off two of my other friends for hundreds of euro’s (they borrowed him interest-free money for moving his street vending business into a store and he didn't reimburse). My other friends had their stuff pick-pocketed too. People lied multiple times to my face, and loads of other bad stuff. And I loved all of it (except for the robbing). Some of the best time of my 16 months trip (until now) was in Cape Verde. The warmth of the people was amazing. Nowhere on the planet (except for Iran, maybe) have I been invited into as many local homes as here. I felt embarrassed when people with amputated legs apologized on behalf of the entire country when they heard the story of the robbery and my broken foot. Similarly grandmothers with probably not more than 1 year to live from the looks of them looked at me with compassion filled eyes when they saw me walking with crutches through the streets. People offered me rides in their car even when they knew I had less than 200 meters to go.

Surprisingly enough, the bar scene in tiny Mindelo (the capital of the island where I stayed) was amazing. For example a late night Jazz Bar with great indie music and an amazing crowd. Or what do you think of a Berlin-style hidden place (you wouldn’t know that it's a bar if you stood in front of it) filled with French literature, a roof top terrace, topped off with regular music improvisation sessions by the ”resident” artists? Sure, I am a foreigner in Cape Verde and will always remain a ”white guy” to the locals, but few things in life beat being in a ”hurry” and walking 500 meters in an hour due to cheerful conversations with the friendly locals you meet on the street. I’ll always cherish the ”live at Laguina” sessions, where incredibly talented musicians played guitar and sang in the living room of my appartment.

And then carnival. Sure, Rio de Janeiro’s carnival is bigger and more glamorous. But it will have a tough time beating Mindelo in authenticity. Thanks to a great friend (who’s writing a book and decided on the spot to make a documentary) I was fortunate to get a behind-the-scenes look and experience parts of the preparations of the groups. All of these groups created amazing art projects with (near) zero budgets. One could really witness that passion for what you're trying to achieve will beat financial incentives any day of the week. And last and definitely not least: the foreigners in Cape Verde. I can truly say I made friends here, which is a rarity as all of us are traveling. The foreigners I encountered were all fellow boat hitchhikers and really special people. We did amazing things together, we saw beautiful sceneries and had thought-provoking conversations.

And then I left it all behind. A window of opportunity opened to cross the Atlantic ocean just after carnival. The right people, the right ship, the right destination. But I’ll return to Mindelo to experience Cape Verde once again, that's for sure!

Found a home

It was one of those nights of which I’ll think back later and say to myself: “I wish I had more of these”.

Due to my immobility, I decided to move out from the hotel. I had strong doubts: from my hotel’s balcony I had a great view on the main street of Mindelo. “Everybody” paraded there each night. Several friendly bars were near, ever the cash machine and the supermarket were literally around the corner.

Still, it was a great decision to move. I’m currently living in an apartment. Meaning I’ve got a living room, an en suite bathroom and a kitchen (which I’m actually using!).

The best part of the appartment is that it’s a “home”. It’s a place where I live, not just spend a couple of nights because it has the best price/quality ratio. For most of you it isn’t special to have a “home”. Even the poorest people of the planet have a home. Only refugees and people traveling around the world don’t have a home. Moving in here made me realize that the longest I’ve stayed somewhere is around 10 days. This only happened 3 or so times during this (until now) 15 months trip.

If having a (temporary) home made me happy, having great people in there delighted me. Thanks to a French friend, (who has been amazing), I got to know a couple of great Cape Verdian artists. Super cool: they gave an impromptu “concert” in my living room! They’re also working on a project for carnival, which should be a great experience!

I guess it’s universal to feel at your happiest around people who create.


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New year on Cape Verde

It was a new years celebration I won't easily forget, as Cape Verde showed itself from its best and worst side.

Let's start with the good stuff. New year at Cape Verde is pretty amazing. Sure, the great weather helps, but the nicest part are the real and big smiles on the faces of the people. The setting was amazing. I had met up with a French guy, who's writing a book and making a documentary at the same time. Both of us had dinner at the humble place of a new Nigerian friend. We decided to walk back to the city center just before midnight. Many people were out on the street and the atmosphere was buoyant. Everybody was walking the same direction as ourselves and slowly, but steadily everybody picked up their pace. It wasn't before long until literally everybody started running down the hill towards the harbor. The reason was immediately clear when we arrived: everybody and their brother was out there. It seemed like literally the whole population of the island had united on the small boulevard. People jumping in the ocean, (but this isn't as brave as doing the same in The Netherlands). I've rarely seen people so delighted at a fireworks display, nearly every explosion was met with joyful cheers. Everybody was having a great time and the happy party in the street continued into the early hours.

I woke up early for unexplainable reasons. After taking a quick shower I heard the drums and other instruments in the distance. I decided to head out onto Mindelo's streets, deserted like they should be during an early morning after a new years eve celebration. I had no difficulties locating the music. It was a marching band followed by a small group of around 60 people who all were dancing to the same 15 second repeating sound. As (again) everybody was happy and smiling, I decided to join them (except for the dancing, as I didn't want to make a fool out of myself). Slowly the size of the group increased, but we were never mo than a hundred. I ran into some locals and time passed quickly and happily. After we had been walking around for a couple of hours (still to the tune of the same 15 second music loop) we ended up at a big fence. I asked what it was and my friends quickly pointed out that it was the local hospital. We marched onto the terrain for a truly amazing spectacle. The drums and other instruments started playing louder and louder and everybody really was giving their best. Slowly, but steadily, tired faces started appearing in front of the hospital windows. The nurses came out and the crowd waved at the ill people. Smiles appeared on their faces and some of the patients even managed to squeeze out a couple of dance moves, which motivated our crowd to give even more. When we left the terrain, I asked one of my friends to explain the spectacle. She told me that it is a tradition to come the hospital and to dance for the ill people. “We know they can't be with us now, but through our music and dancing we show our desire and hope that they can be dancing with us again next year.” Happy shivers down my spine.

Little did I know, that I would return very soon to the hospital. Every day seems to be a party day in Cape Verde, but New Year really is a two day party here. For the second night I met up with a couple of Capeverdian friends and before I knew it, I was the only white guy at a 1.500 people party. Great people, great music and when they discovered I was Dutch I had to listen to many a story about uncles in Rotterdam, dreams about moving to The Netherlands and the eternal friendship between people of Cape Verde and The Netherlands. Despite my “traveler reputation” I'm really not used to wild celebrations anymore, so I decided to head home early. Outside the gates taxis were stormed by groups of people eager to catch a ride home. I was watching the spectacle with a smile, which quickly disappeared when I noticed I had missed out on a car driving up behind me. To late, and the car drove over my right foot. I went down to the ground screaming in pain. I noticed people walking up to me. Instead of helping me up, they sat on top of me and grabbed my mobile phone from my trousers. Shouting and screaming, I managed to get away. Unfortunately not for far. A guy walked up behind me as I was struggling to walk and pushed / punched me down to the ground. I felt my wallet being taken from my other pocket. They ran of. As the robbers had taken my room keys as well and the spare keys were locked away, I had to sleep on a chair in the lobby. The following morning I headed out to the hospital. The diagnosis was unambiguous: a broken foot/ankle, 4 weeks plaster. I was devastated: I don't have four weeks! For one of the very few times during this trip I had a deadline. Reason being that the season for crossing the Atlantic by sailing yachts is coming to an end. And no way that I can cross the ocean with a broken ankle.

After the initial depression, I decided to make the most out of it. Learn some Portuguese, do a programming course, and work a bit on my website project. Today I moved out from the hotel to an appartment.

Life might seem “terrible”, living on your own in a strange city in a country where you don't speak the language (Creole is tough!), but I made some good friends here. Might even stick around to see the famous carnival here. Hanging out with a group of very talented and friendly Capeverdian musicians isn't a punishment either. This really is making the *best* out of a bad situation :-)

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Boat hitchhiking, a dummies guide

Q: what on earth is ‘boat hitchhiking’?

A: similar to a car hitchhiking. Somebody asks for a ride and another person takes him/her along. Only this time it’s with a boat.

Q: what kind of boat?

A: typically sailing boats, but anything afloat will do.

Q: who does something as crazy as that?

A: students, people wanting to make a profession out of it (earn money), Internet entrepreneurs. Anybody, really.

Q: why would I want to hitchhike on a boat?

A: it’s fun and cheap way to get somewhere and meet nice people along the way.

Q: what am I supposed to do on a boat?

A: typically, you’re supposed to work. The most frequent is watches, where you have to look out for other boats or things floating in the water. Other people get around by cooking or cleaning or just being a companion.

Q: do I get paid for this?

A: depending on the time and location you could be asked to pay for food, drinks and the running costs of the boat. Or everything could be offered to you by the captain. And if you’re good, you might be able to make a living from it.

Q: let me get this straight: I might have to pay in order to work somewhere?

A: yes

Q: that’s insane. I work to get money, not to pay money to my employer. Again: why would I want to do this?

A: it’s a matter of supply and demand. In some locations there are a lot of people looking for a ride on a boat. Sometimes it’s the other way round. Having a boat is expensive. If you look at it as a floating hotel, the concept of working and paying becomes more bearable.

Q: ok, I might be willing to consider this. But what kind of people will I find on the boat?

A: again, it totally depends. I’ve seen captains that worked on particle accelerators, ex-criminals, lonely captains looking for love. And really average people too (these are the worst).

Q: ok, This looks like fun. How do I find a boat?

A: the holy grail of boat hitch hiking. Let me start by telling you how not to find a boat. There are several paid websites, I hear mostly negative stories about Findacrew and Crewseekers, so don’t use their paid options! The are several free online fora (see bottom of this post) that could be helpful. The best way is to just go to the harbor where you know many people will start their trip and ask around. Ask a lot. No really, a lot. Days on end. The good news is: this is the best part :-) Some people have reported success by swimming to boats that are at the anchorage and simply knocking on the hull. Asking a friendly captain to borrow his dinghy for an afternoon might be easier and cleaner (water in harbors typically is pretty filthy).

Q: wow, this looks difficult. How can I make it easier for myself?

A: The following people get boats easier than average:

  • experienced sailors

  • beautiful women

  • people with skills in repairing engines or woodwork

  • people who can prepare a decent meal

  • people who speak multiple languages

Q: can you give me more tips?

A: - Most importantly: think about why should anybody want to have you on their boat (which very often means their house).

  • Try to have a short trip on the boat first. You can asses the rest of crew (and the other way round). If this isn’t possible, try to spend at least a night or two on the boat before you leave on a long trip.

  • Arrive early if you need to be at your final destination by a certain date

  • Be flexible on timing and destination.

  • Balance what the captain is looking for in a crew with what you want to do

  • The captain is the boss. Always. If you don’t like him/her, you leave the boat. Do not expect it to be the other way round.

  • Dress up nicely when you meet the captain for the first time.

  • Stand out of the crowd of other boat hitchhikers

  • Languages: French is a definite plus for an Atlantic crossing due to the large number of French boats. Spanish and Portuguese are handy for helping the rest of the crew at some destinations.

  • Women need to extra careful for crew with undesired amorous intentions.

  • Try to spot captains with alcohol problems. They are rare, but you really don’t want to be in a storm when your captains is not capable of making solid judgements.

  • Learn ‘crew speak’. Not only how things are called on a boat, but also take a genuine interest in what’s going on in the harbor. What is happening at the destinations etc.

  • Be nice to your fellow boat hitchhikers. Eventually one of you will find a boat and you might be able to help each other.

  • Never-ever ‘steal’ the boat from a fellow boat hitch hiker. Karma is a bitch.

  • Enjoy! Finding a boat is as much part of boat hitch hiking as sailing and lying on beautiful beaches.

Q: What is ARC?

A: Over 200 yachts starts crossing the Atlantic from Gran Canaria to Saint Lucia (Carribean) on the same day. Beware though: the event attracts many people looking for boats.

Q: I’ve never sailed on a boat. Can I still do this?

A: yes, you can. But make really sure that you’ve read the ‘who shouldn’t do this’ section.

Q: are there any routes that boats sail?

A: yes there are. Due to winds and currents the route looks something like this: By the end of October everybody from Northern Europe wants to be (at least) past France. This means Spain/Portugal or more south.

During October-November, boats tend to go first to the Azores, then to the Canary Islands. One of the most important meeting points is the ARC challenge. Adventurous (French) boats might go to Morocco before Gran Canaria and to Senegal afterwards. However these are relatively few.

A first ‘wave’ of boats (no pun intended) wants to arrive in the Caribbean for Christmas. They leave before the 1st of December from the Canaries (typically Gran Canaria). Another wave leaves after Christmas.

Most boats going from Europe to Brazil typically stop at Cape Verde. Quite a number that go to the Caribbean stop at Cape Verde as well in order to cut the trip in half.

From the Caribbean boats tend to cruise up until NY and cross from there back to Europe by April - May.

The good news is that many boats do things differently. They go to Asia, Antarctic, Cape Horn and god knows where.

Q: water is nice, but can I see something of the lands I sail past as well?

A: it all depends on the captain and whether you have any say in that. Typically people don’t sail the world just for the sailing, but also to see the land as well.

Q: will I be surrounded by obnoxious filthy rich people all the time?

A: most likely you won’t. Quite a number of the boat owners have saved long and hard for this trip and sold all their worldly possessions in order to make it a reality. Therefore, treat the boat with the respect that a substantial financial and emotional investment deserves.

Q: , but what should I wear?

A: it all depends on the location and the season. If it could get cold and you have your own sailing gear: bring it along. Most boats have a spare lifejackets (and if they don’t it’s a good reason to look for another one). Just don’t bring a suitcase. Please.

Q: isn’t this very dangerous?

A: if you’re careless or stupid many things are dangerous.

Q: who shouldn’t do this?

A: you should definitely not boat hitch hike if you have a problem with any of the following:

  • you get sea sick easily (seriously, no ‘perfect’ beach can make you forget puking for 3 weeks)

  • Small spaces

  • No swimming skills (duh)

  • Not being able to wash / shower for a couple of days

  • Having people around you that are precise (most things have a fixed place on a boat for a reason, or some things are just done right in one particular way)

  • If you have loads of luggage (some boats might be a able to accommodate this, but most won’t)

  • If you have a problem taking orders

Further reading

If you’ve got any tips: please share them below.

Iran, revisited

Loads and loads of very bad things are written about Iran these days. Nearly all of them rightfully so.

However, few of them take the particularity of the Iranian situation into account. Let me quote myself:

Iranians like jews, they even guarantee seats in the parlement specifically for jews. Admittedly, jews don’t have the same rights as Muslims. Iranians don’t agree with the current situation in Israel.

Iranians like Americans. The Americans I’ve met in Iran were extremy positive about their reception (even at the border).

American products are cherished by Iranians. Both are a miracle as the USA overthrew the legally elected government in Iran in 1954 (headed by the Times man-of-the-year Mossadegh), categorised Iran in the ‘axis of evil’ when it had its most pro-western and peace loving government in decades, the Iran-contra affair, shot down of the civilian IranAir flight 655 (290 people on board) by the US navy most advanced warship. Surprisingly, you’ll find amazing similarities between the ideas of American Christians evangelicals (and tea party movement) and the current situation in Iran.

Iran is not agressive: it hasn’t attacked anoyher country for centuries and its military budget is only 2,7% of GDP. As an indication, the USA spends every two weeks in Iraq alone what Iran spends in a year. This despite that Iran has been occuppied by Russians, British and was under attack of Iraq and had operations on its soil by the USA.

Iran doesn’t have nuclear weapons (yet). The [] region’s main countries (India, Pakistan, Israel, Russia and USA) all have these weapons. Moreover, Iran is an importer of fossil fuels (they lack refinery capacity for their oil), therefore nuclear energy really is important to them.

Some of the kindest people I’ve met on this trip are Iranians. None of them support the atrocities of their government. Actually, very few people in Iran do. Just like in almost every major country around the globe: 2012 is an election year in which light recent developments should be seen. The past has consistently shown that the stronger the foreign pressure on Iranian politics, the stronger the Iranian extremists become. Let’s all be smart this time.

If you’ve got some spare time please read the original 1, 2, 3 stories on Iran. Much better still, read these truly great books The Ayatollah Begs to Differ: the paradox of modern Iran and it’s terrific follow up: The Ayatollah’s Democracy: an Iranian challenge

For more travel stories, please have a look at www.gijsbos.com

The long road

My recent writings have confused some of my readers on where I am. Therefore a quick overview of the last couple of months.
In September of 2011 I returned to Europe for a relatively brief visit. Old friends from business school in South of France, my parents and of course Amsterdam. Quite honestly, 'visiting' Amsterdam probably was one of the weirdest things I've done. The actual reason for coming back to Europe was my grandmother's 95th birthday. We celebrated it with the entire family, including 5 great- grandchildren. Grandmother was doing great and it came as a great shock for us all that she suddenly passed away only 2 weeks later.

Once I left The Netherlands, I wondered whether continuing to travel made any sense at all. Sure, I've only seen a tiny fraction of the world last year and it will take many lifetimes to see it 'all'. But do the additional experiences really add that much that they are worth forsaking precious time with family and friends back home? I don't have the final answer to that.

First of all, I went back to my old love 'Berlin'. One of my favorite places on the planet. Any temporary stay in Berlin is to short and thanks to my great host and old friend, time passed even quicker than expected.

Up next was Austria, meeting a new friend. The seemingly 'ancient' civilization of Vienna was a shock for somebody who has spend the previous months in countries where a 100 years is considered long ago. To my own surprise we even ended up on the Austrian ski slopes with a great combination of amazing snow and sunny weather.

I had, for the second time during this trip, the pleasure of spending some quality time with my parents. We decided to visit the Guggenheim in Bilbao and visit Madrid. Needless to say we had an excellent time and saw equal quantities of paintings and tapas places.

And suddenly and completely unexpected I was traveling on my own again. Without realizing it, I had spend several months visiting friends around the world. From sunny California and Austin to drizzly Berlin and freezing glaciers in Austria. And there I was: on my own on a terribly touristy island (Gran Canaria) looking for a sailing boat, which took longer than expected. As usual during the tougher moments of this trip lady luck smiled at me once again. The boat I found was better than I could have imagined in my wildest dreams. Not only did I have my own cabin (and shower), the French captain is a former cook and his wife cooks even better. Our already healthy diet was supplemented by freshly caught fish and fruit we picked ourselves during day trips on the shore.

I originally wanted to visit Africa and Central/South America on the second leg of this trip. However, I couldn't be happier when we decided to visit the southern tip of Morocco. Actually, I could be happier as later I found out that this place was the self proclaimed second-best-kitesurf-spot-in-the-world (after Hawaii). In Dahkla I slept in the most basic of nomad tents while kitesurfing until the sun set behind the dessert mountains. Friendly locals everywhere. And their amazement at my travel modus (boat hitch hiking), made me realize once again how lucky I am.

And then it was time to do yet another 'first' during this trip: sail on the ocean for 4 days and nights to Cape Verde. Strong winds and relatively high seas (up to 7 meters). Life lines, life jackets and loads of reading (finished 2 books in 48 hours). And yes, endless seas and long watches under star filled nights does make one more philosophical.

Cape Verde has been one big surprise. I had never been in a country with a Caribbean - African culture. And by God, have I missed on something. It sounds like a cliche, but the warmth of the people here is really amazing. The other day I wanted to go for a long hike. I only made 500 meters as I got invited into three different houses with people eager to talk. Being Dutch is a great advantage here as many Cape Verdians worked in the Dutch shipping industry in the early 60s and everybody has family in The Netherlands. One of the most heart warming stories was of an elderly man who, took me in his house to look at a poster of a boat from the HAL, the Holland America Line. When even in 2012 most Cape Verdians don't have money to leave this archipelago, he had the opportunity to go to New York and many other cities with this cruise ship. When I asked him what he did on board, this fellow sailor eyes shone and he proudly stated that he painted the yacht that had a central spot in his living room. In rusty Dutch he confessed that the 9 years he had worked for the HAL were the best years of life...

And now I'm temporarily 'stuck' in Cape Verde due to a car incident followed by a robbery. The good news is, there are far worse places to get stuck :-)

Another day in Cape Verde

It was one of those standard days. After a delightful evening the
night before, I decided to go for a hike. Bought some food and water
and off I went.

As the subburbs of Mindelo are quite extensive I opted for a bus. I
stopped the first bus that passed by. The driver asked me where I
wanted to go, and I could only answer 'I don't know' (please note that
my Portugese language skills are limited to speaking broken Spanish
with a funny accent). The guy and sold me a ticket costing the
equivalent of 3 eurocents.

After 15 minutes ride we were well at the outskirts of the city.
Everybody got off at one point, so I did the same. Attempts to find
out (with a map) where I was were in vain. I therefore decided to walk
up the highest mountain I could find. The dirt track dissappeared
quickly and soon I was on my own in the prairie. After a long hike, I
found myself on top of the mountain with an amazing view: one tiny
house in the valley, see and a beautiful landscape. During the long
walk downhill I got a call from my family back in The Netherlands
which made this beautiful day even more special.

When I finally arrived at the sea I hitch hiked (by car this time) and
was taken by the 3rd car passing by: a Cape Verdian living in Canada,
giving an old aunt a ride because she had a stroke. He was a martial
arts instructor, real estate broker and a genuinely nice guy, who
dropped me off at my hotel.

Me like Cape Verde :-)

Sunny Christmas everyone

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Leaving the harbor

The story is both sad and beautiful. A French singer/songwriter finds out he has terminal cancer. He decides to make one more album. In this 9 minutes epos he contemplates life as only the French can..

It's the song my captain played each time we had left the harbor and set sail for a new destination. Full blast. Shivers down my spine.

(Merci Philippe!)

 

C'est un grand terrain de nulle part
Avec de belles poignées d'argent
La lunette d'un microscope
Et tous ces petits êtres qui courent

Car chacun vaque à son destin
Petits ou grands
Comme durant les siècles égyptiens
Péniblement...

A porter mille fois son poids sur lui
Sous la chaleur et dans le vent
Dans le soleil ou dans la nuit
Voyez-vous ces êtres vivants ?

Quelqu'un a inventé ce jeu
Terrible, cruel, captivant
Les maisons, les lacs, les continents
Comme un légo avec du vent...

La faiblesse des tout-puissants
Comme un légo avec du sang
La force décuplée des perdants
Comme un légo avec des dents
Comme un légo avec des mains
Comme un légo...

Voyez-vous tous ces humains
Danser ensemble à se donner la main
S'embrasser dans le noir à cheveux blonds
A ne pas voir demain comme ils seront...

Car si la Terre est ronde
Et qu'ils s'agrippent
Au-delà, c'est le vide
Assis devant le restant d'une portion de frites
Noir sidéral et quelques plats d'amibes

Les capitales sont toutes les mêmes devenues
Aux facettes d'un même miroir
Vêtues d'acier, vêtues de noir
Comme un légo mais sans mémoire

Pourquoi ne me réponds-tu jamais ?
Sous ce manguier de plus de dix milles pages
A te balancer dans cette cage...

A voir le monde de si haut
Comme un damier, comme un légo
Comme un imputrescible radeau
Comme un insecte mais sur le dos
Comme un insecte sur le dos

C'est un grand terrain de nulle part
Avec de belles poignées d'argent
La lunette d'un microscope
On regarde, on regarde, on regarde dedans...

On voit de toutes petites choses qui luisent
Ce sont des gens dans des chemises
Comme durant ces siècles de la longue nuit
Dans le silence ou dans le bruit...

Boat hunting

Looking for a boat to hitch hike the Atlantic is quite an adventure in itself. A selection:

A small catamaran with an extended family of 6 persons on it. They really had no space for me.

A French family on a catemaran with a young kid. They are interested in taking me, but he has thin lips and an unfriendly smile. So, I'm not going with them.

I had borrowed the dinghy / Zodiac from my current boat and during my search for all the anchored boats, I passed a yacht with a kid on it. I asked him whether his parents were on the boat. He responded negatively and asked me why I wanted to know. Feeling a bit unsure about talking to a kid alone on a yacht, I approached with the dinghy and I noticed he had (literally) a live monkey on his back. The kid and I talked a bit and the idea of crossing the ocean with this kind of people seemed very appealing. Later that day, I heard from two independent and reliable sources that the father was particularly unfriendly. Which ruled them out as 3 weeks on the ocean with unfriendly people is a definite no-go.

After lunch I ended up on an old large steel boat. When I told the owner that I am searching a boat in order 'to cross' he looked at me like I was his long lost son. Hopefully I am not. The guy and his wife were particularly filthy. The boat was in desperate need of a cleanup too, not in the last place because of the two big dogs on board. Their excrements were still on the deck as the owners were probably busy repairing the boat. The captain confessed he didn't know the boat well and sometimes the chain for the rudder fell of but 'only for a maximum of 5-10 minutes or so as it happens often'. In addition he was going to experiment with a home-made auto pilot that he 'read about on the Internet'. Which took away the last tiny bit of doubt for wanting to join that particular boat.

One of the first boats I had spotted was a beautiful yacht under the Dutch flag. The owner (from the north of The Netherlands) and his friendly wife spoke at length with me. Unfortunately, they told me right at the beginning that they weren't looking for anybody.

A Swedish guy had a very unlucky accident on the boat 1 day down from the canary islands. His wrist was broken in a nasty spot. They send a helicopter to take him off the boat. This meant that there was a space on that boat for me. The co-owner and myself chatted for almost an hour yesterday and ran into each other twice today, but unfortunately We couldn't follow up on our earlier discussion as it looked like a good boat.

When I asked a captain of moored boat in the harbor whether he was looking for crew, another guy, who was just walking by, informed me that he knew of somebody who was looking for a crew member. He had been looking as well and really could recommended this guy. I went to see him. A friendly Englishman, on a big 2 mast yacht build in The Netherlands. He is looking to leave in about 10 days for the Grenadines, leaving ample time for me to discover the islands. A nice option indeed.

Further down the harbor I ran into a Spanish couple that I had seen the day before. A really friendly and smiley guy. His girlfriend who was on the boat had fallen ill and as they had to leave in order to make a deadline, they were looking for a replacement. Today we had a short chat. The girlfriend had fortunately recovered completely, but it meant that this boat was no longer an option.

The most spectacular option came last in the evening. An English gentleman in his late 60s, who had been an engineer on particle accelerators in the USA. I scored major points when I told him I had started yesterday to read a book on Richard Feynman. He confessed he never met Feynman, but had worked intensively on another Nobel price winning project. Things went great from there. He's a collector of classic cars. His oldest car is from 1928 and he has a jaguar e-type from 1969. He has got to be back in NY by May as there is a classic car rally he has attended for 32 years consecutively (without missing a single year). After his wife passed away he sailed 3 times around the globe, went 4 times to the Antarctic, etc. etc. A very experienced sailor indeed. The big 'but' is that he is looking for somebody who will go not only to Brazil, but directly to the Caribbean as well. Which not only is a long trip, but forces me to backtrack to Brazil afterwards. Hmmm....

One thing is for sure, there are quite a number of characters to be found here :-)

Sad arrival

Yesterday was my first day in Cape Verde. And a sad one. Cape Verde's most famous daughter had passed away. Cesaria Evora made the small archipelago famous. And she was famous walking barefoot and smoking continuously.

Yesterday she received a state funeral. A host of dignitaries, a passionate speech by the president and many people crying in the street. It was an official 'day of mourning' for the entire country. A well deserved tribute for a great singer.

more info: http://www.rfimusic.com/artist/world-music/cesaria-evora/biography

What's the plan?

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People regularly ask me for a plan for my trip. With a sheepish look I then have to admit that there is none. Vague ideas like 'go to Iran and see from there', 'have a look in South East Asia' somehow resulted in a fantastic trip.

Similar to before, I had the idea to 'go sailing'. Wise friends and family warned me for drunk captains, high seas and full boats. Without a name nor location of a harbor ('how do you say 'harbor in Spanish anyway?') and just a plane ticket to Gran Canaria, I was on my way for another exciting part of this trip.

In hindsight, I forgot to think of some of the most important things: a large and (ideally) luxurious yacht, a private cabin and shower. A trustworthy captain and a great cook on board cooking our freshly caught fish. A nice mix of sailing at night with strong winds and sunshine filled days reading on deck. Shore leave in town and hiking on a quiet island.

And all that came true.
:-)

The opposite way

Once upon a time, when I was much younger, I hitch hiked to France with my best friend. It was a holiday that could rival this trip in terms of events.

As a hitch hiker you need to be optimistic and persistent. Being two guys, you need to be creative, insane or both. Being patient is a virtue when hitch hiking, but finding fun ways to keep you too.

Nearly every long distance hitch hiker has a cardboard sign indications where he/she wants to go. One day, stuck for hours at an impossible location, we decided to put a sign for a city in the opposite direction. Typically people drive past without giving you a glance. This changed once we put up the new sign. People started pointing, gesturing, horning in order to correct our 'stupid' mistake. Needless to say that we had great fun being ignorant. The real idea behind all of this was to make people stop and explain us our mistake, which would give us the opportunity to get a ride in the direction we really wanted anyway.

People never halted and we got a ride. Typically people would characterize this experiment as a failure. For us, it gave us the energy to continue waiting for a ride that inevitably would come. And the two of us ended up in Cannes.

The ARC rally is the largest cross ocean sailing race in the world. Loads of boats looking to go where I want to go: across the ocean. After looking for days on end for a spot and competing with dozens of other near desperate boat hitch hikers, I decided my strategy wasn't working. Just like everybody else I put up signs in the harbor, told all the captains I was looking for a boat and even made it to the semi-finals of the volleyball event. Somebody suggested swimming to the sailing boats that were parked outside the harbor in order to surprise the captain with the determination, a captain responded that he had already 5 people swim to his boat in the last couple of days.

The opposite way

Once upon a time, when I was much younger, I hitch hiked to France with my best friend. It was a holiday that could rival this trip in terms of events.

As a hitch hiker you need to be optimistic and persistent. Being two guys, you need to be creative, insane or both. Being patient is a virtue when hitch hiking, but finding fun ways to keep you too.

Nearly every long distance hitch hiker has a cardboard sign indications where he/she wants to go. One day, stuck for hours at an impossible location, we decided to put a sign for a city in the opposite direction. Typically people drive past without giving you a glance. This changed once we put up the new sign. People started pointing, gesturing, horning in order to correct our 'stupid' mistake. Needless to say that we had great fun being ignorant. The real idea behind all of this was to make people stop and explain us our mistake, which would give us the opportunity to get a ride in the direction we really wanted anyway.

People never halted and we got a ride. Typically people would characterize this experiment as a failure. For us, it gave us the energy to continue waiting for a ride that inevitably would come. And the two of us ended up in Cannes.

The ARC rally is the largest cross ocean sailing race in the world. Loads of boats looking to go where I want to go: across the ocean. After looking for days on end for a spot and competing with dozens of other near desperate boat hitch hikers, I decided my strategy wasn't working. Just like everybody else I put up signs in the harbor, told all the captains I was looking for a boat and even made it to the semi-finals of the volleyball event. Somebody suggested swimming to the sailing boats that were parked outside the harbor in order to surprise the captain with the determination, a captain responded that he had already 5 people swim to his boat in the last couple of days.

So I decided fishing in another pond. I took a cheap flight to Lanzarote and found a boat within 6 hours of arriving at the island. Even better, it gave me the time to take an epic bicycle ride around Lanzarote. Good fun all around!

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Hidden gems

Now that you're sure that you've read the most popular stories of last year (http://gijsbos.com/most-popular-posts-of-last-year). You're probably wondering which posts were most overlooked. Maybe because they didn't have a picture with them on Facebook? An univitingg title? Published when you were on holiday? Or in the middle of your night? Anyway, here are stories that didn't get the attention they deserved:

16. A bull fight with a twist http://gijsbos.com/a-bull-fight-with-a-twist
15. Bye http://gijsbos.com/bye
14. Comparing girlfriends http://gijsbos.com/comparing-girlfriends
13. How was Australia http://gijsbos.com/how-was-australia
12. Money talks http://gijsbos.com/money-talks
11. Privileged http://gijsbos.com/privileged
10. So, what do you think of India? http://gijsbos.com/so-what-do-you-think-of-india
9. Sorry http://gijsbos.com/so-what-do-you-think-of-india
8. The beauty of nomadic life http://gijsbos.com/the-beauty-of-nomadic-life
7. Aankondiging http://gijsbos.com/aankondiging
6. Delhi shock http://gijsbos.com/delhi-shock
5. Don't believe a yoga teacher http://gijsbos.com/dont-believe-a-yoga-teacher
4. Exit Iran http://gijsbos.com/exit-iran
3. First impressions of Teheran http://gijsbos.com/first-impressions-of-tehran
2. Teheran quite a ride http://gijsbos.com/teheran-quite-a-ride
1. The sound of cooking http://gijsbos.com/the-sound-of-cooking

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Most popular posts of last year

Surely you've tried to keep up with my erratic publishing schedule: sometimes a story every other day, sometimes nothing for weeks. That's why you've missed some stories. Here's an overview of the most popular stories of the first year.

10. I'm going to Texas
9. Steve is my hero
8. After Burning Man
7. The most beautiful place in the world 
6. Bad news at a bad moment 
5. A tale of love hate and credit cards
4. You're doing what? 
3. Rotting away in a Delhi prison cell 
2. My trip is a failure
1. NGO glamour 

Happy reading!

Berlin revisited

It was 1990 and my father, sister and myself took a trip to Berlin (I forgot why my mother couldn't attend). It were exciting times. The wall had fallen only two months before and crossing to East Germany was only possible through several holes in the wall. The east was unlike anything I'd ever seen before: the houses looked like they were going to collapse, everything smelled terrible due to some (brown?) coal they used and the poor exhausts of the Trabi cars. Still the place bustled with energy and I couldn't wait to discover it on my own.

It was 1998 and I had just had the best year of my life. And it wasn't in Berlin, but in Oxford. Together with great friends we had an amazing time. And suddenly I found myself looking for a place on my own. As luck goes with the stupid, I found the greatest place in all of Berlin. It's a house with a tower that makes it resembles a mix between a church and a castle. The interior is even more amazing, not only 5+ meter high ceilings, but an amazing crowd as well. A 75 year old yoga teacher married to a 15 year younger man, a PHD in physics student, and a lesbian girl with personal hygiene issues.

She lived in 'the tower' (see picture). This 6m2 room was unique. Thanks to the height, it provided an amazing view over the city. Due to its size it limited possessions to the most essential. Due to the poor heating it only attracted people with real character. And great balance, as in order to get to the room one needed to walk over a 25 centimeter wide wooden board crossing the roof with no fence to prevent one from sliding down the roof and smashing into the garden. Needless to say the bathroom was downstairs, adding to the fun of 'nature calls' during Berlin's cold winter nights.

It was 2010 and the pressure was on. I was seated in front of my manager's manger's manager's manager and he shared a story of our the beautiful location where we had dinner with my colleagues. He explained that a couple of months before there had been a dinner in the same gigantic room inside the HQ of Axel Springer. The founder of the company had been an avivid fighter for reunification of Germany, which was the reason why this building was right next to the Berlin wall. Five years after the fall of 'die Mauer' the presidents who orchestrated it had been having dinner here: Gorbachev, Kohl and Reagan. In 2010 the USA was represented by George W. Bush and I sat on the same chair as he did :-)

In 2011 things were very different. After over a year of traveling I was kindly hosted by a good study friend. One of the first things on my agenda was to visit my old house. It was like before. He told a nice story about his hitch hiking trip to Bosnia in the 50s. Rough looking local men caught him taking berries from some bushes. Neither side spoke much of the other's language. They took him along to their village and sat him down without speaking. Then they shouted at their wife and only minutes later a delicious meal was prepared for him. He barely had taken a first bite when they gestured that:
'Ffive years ago Germans came and were shooting at us from the mountains in the distance.'
'Another German has come today.' 'And now we drink together.'

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You are crazy!

When the crisis hit, it hard. Numbers don't hurt, but cancelled weddings and bankrupt friends do. This crisis isn't the USA in 2008 nor Greece in 2011. It's Argentina around 2000.

What happened? After a disastrous inflation history, Argentina decided to lock it's currency to the US dollar in a ratio of 1:1. In the beginning it did miracles for the Argentinian economy as one of the biggest barriers for foreign investments (exchange rate loss) was removed. In the long run it proved to be a disaster for the Argentinian economy. Year by year the argentineans couldn't keep up with the USA productivity growth. Therefore the country became each year a bit more expensive. Unemployment started to grow, which was the beginning of a downward spiral of which Argentina couldn't escape. In the end Argentina devaluated 75% to a ratio of about 4 Argentinean pesos to 1 US dollar.

Over a decade later, everybody and their brother has an opinion about the European financial crisis. I have one too. Historically, all concerned countries saw their currencies depreciate against the Deutschmark. Sometimes they had succeeded in lockin their currencies, but inevitably they devaluated. This hasn't happened in Europe since the introduction of the euro. Despite that the euro changed some minor rules of the game, the Greek, Spanish, Portuguese and Italian economies still can't keep up with their big German brother. And that isn't necessarily bad. Unless you've got the same currency...

A currency which is shared between two countries is unfair to one country, two countries or both. As there is only 1 exchange rate and there are 2 countries. The euro is oriented towards the country with the strongest economy and central bank: Germany. Thanks to the strong German economy and Germany's fear of inflation, the euro has been a very strong currency, increasing in value (most notably) against the US dollar. This is good for a strong economy, but disastrous for weaker economies. Nowhere this is more visible than in Spain.

The Spanish peseta was one of the weaker currencies when it joined the euro. The economy boomed due to European subsidies and a housing boom. When both disappeared, the Spanish needed to compete on 'normal' terms with other countries. Which they couldn't. Unemployment exploded to over 20%. With such high unemployment the country goes to hell. The government spends all its money on unemployment benefits and social welfare, leaving no room to invest in economic growth generators like education. Foreign investment halts due to economic uncertainty. The smartest and richest people leave the country, all accelerating financial doom.

How can you can a country escape? The most frequently heard solution is to keep them in the euro and support a country through these difficult times. As noble as it sounds, it grossly underestimates the severity of the problem. My personal estimate is that the troubled countries probably are overvalued between 25%-40%. Supporting all these countries until they have a competitive economy again takes at 15-20 years of frozen or negative growth in salaries. Unrealistic.  

The other solution is to do it the 'Argentinean way'. This means that the affected countries would default on their debts and get their own currency back. That currency would be weaker than the euro, and keep their economies competitive globally. Why would this be a better solution? First of all, it addresses the fundamental causes of the problem: competitiveness of the economy due to a fixed exchange rate with other economies that behave very differently than their own. Secondly, it prevents the social situation from escalating. These countries were semi-dictatorships as recently as the 70s and  80s. Protests are increasing and a bloody 'Spanish spring' isn't as unthinkable due to massive unemployment and even hunger. 

As painful as the Argentinean default was and despite the corrupt politicians, the terrible financial policies, Argentina is now one of the fastest growing countries in the world. The countries that exit now could with tight European guidance, re-enter the monetary union (read: the euro). But only once they've demonstrated a sustained capability of satisfying the original requirements with regards to debt, exchange rate, inflation etc.

But.
'But my bank has invested billions in Greece. It will collapse due if those countries default, creating a domino effect.'
Banks have weak financial buffers and multiple countries defaulting on their debts won't help. But supporting banks that have a chance of surviving isn't bad. For example: the Dutch government will make a nice profit on *all* their investments in bad banks.  Moreover how many European banks went bankrupt when the immensely important Argentinean economy collapsed? I can't remember a single one.

'But don't banks deserve to go bankrupt? Isn't this a case of private profits and socialized losses?'
Never let a crisis go to waste. With the government as a shareholder banks can be forced to address obscene salaries and irresponsible risk taking.

'But going back to their previous currencies simply isn't possible'
Why not? Most countries have their own currency. These countries had their own currencies before they entered the euro. It can be done.

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I am crazy

When the word spread that I was heading for Europe, family and friends assumed I was returning home for good. When I explained my plan for Was to stay several weeks and continue traveling, it instilled surprise and fear in the people I love.

'Isn't about a year since you've left?'
True, I left on the 12th of October 2010.

'won't you have difficulties getting used to normal life once you return?'
Maybe, I will be very well rested though. I think that when I stop traveling life will be fine.

'don't you miss your friends and family?'
...

'where are you going next?'
Good question. I'll probably leave Europe around the beginning of November. By then I will have made up my mind.

'wow, you must be very rich'
I got rich by wanting very little (Thorreau)

So yes, I will continue traveling. For how long I don't know. As some of my travel naivety has worn off, leaving Europe will be tougher this time. However, my curiosity for new people and places is still there. Which will keep me on the road for the foreseeable time.

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I'm going to Texas!

Most people in California and at Burning Man gave me a look with a mix of surprise and disdain, when I told them that the destination after Burning Man was going to be in the state of Texas. When I added that I was headed for a city called 'Austin' their faces changed 'Austin is pretty ok', I was regularly told. They were wrong. Austin is not 'pretty ok'. Austin is incredibly great!

The difference between the Burning Man / Grey Hound crowd and the people I met in Austin was massive. I met two of my former managers, which instantly reminded me of he horrible activity called 'work' ;-) For my entire stay, I was kindly hosted by one of those managers. I wasn't the only one staying there, his lovely wife and their *five* kids were living there too. Add to that their dog and the three puppies that they temporary hosted after they were saved from bushfires; and you can imagine my gratitude for having a 37 year old kid added to the family for no less than 10 (!) days.

When I write that Austin is great, it's because of the people you meet and the things you do. Sometimes it's an excellent combination of the two, like meeting up with former colleagues you haven't seen in years and go wakeboarding & wakesurfing (first time!) with them a couple of times. 

Have you ever been to a 'Texas gunshow'? Neither had I. Until now. It was strange experience in a dodgy part of San Antonio, where I just had visited 'the Alamo'. We joked that the best sales pitch over there was 'to explain to people that the best chance of making it back to their cars alive was to buy a gun'. Even when you know that a large number of guns that are sold are not suitable for hunting nor self defense, actually seeing somebody buy machine guns, remains a strange experience. Especially when they're a family with kids and the next shop is selling nazi memorabilia...

You don't need to watch a lot of movies, in order to know that American are crazy about sport. So I came prepared. My preparation wasn't enough. To my own amazement, I was surrounded by literally hundreds of adults in an American football stadium for a match between 14 year olds during business hours (meaning that the parents had taken part of the afternoon off to see the match). If that wasn't surprising enough, the match was filmed by multiple professional cameras, had cheerleaders, a flying team and a gigantic marching band during the start, half time and finish. The teams had specific coaches for offense and defense players and it all looked very very professional. One would expect fanatical parents, but I didn't spot a single one during several trips.

Even though my stay in Austin was in total luxury and the area is typically referred to as 'the bubble' (for it's well protected social environment), it was also the setting of one of the heart breaking stories of my entire trip. It unfolded over several beautiful sunny days in Austin. My host received a phone call detailing that her best friend's husband didn't return home from a solo fishing trip at the coast. At his wife's request the hotel checked his room and found all his belongings including wallet. Initial thoughts were that he could have had engine problems, while fishing at sea or a rip tide during a nightly swim (he was a great sportsman). The police was informed and a search was started, including a helicopter of a friend. The following day, the man was found dead on a nearby island. If this wasn't bad enough, the next day the police released information that the man was murdered. Shortly afterwards it was made publice that he had won a $400.000 lawsuit against his former employer, just the week before.

Even though I've never met the man, the story of his son sends shivers down my spine. His son and my host's kids had a special event at their school, just weeks before the tragic event. All kids were asked by their teachers to come to school dressed like somebody they admired, for example an inventor, sportsperson or artist. The son made a special request with his teacher. He said 'my dad has climbed all of the world's highest mountains and there is nobody in the world I admire more than him. Can I please come dressed like my father?'.

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After Burning Man

If it had been the script for a movie it would have been dismissed as to unlikely to be true: a movie director, a photomodel, a math student & world champion juggling, a spiritual healer, a hippie whose car had broken down on the way to Burning Man, an amazing social media organizer and a random guy. And me, and all of us in the campervan / RV traveling eastbound out of Burning Man.
 
I had seen my last Burning Man sunrise of 2011, packed my stuff and driven the 30 kilo backpack on my bicycle through the dessert across the Burning Man playa and had arrived at the campervan at 08.00. We were scheduled to leave at noon and by now it was past 16.00 hrs and we still hadn't moved because one person was missing. We had been waiting inside the campervan in the smoldering heat of the Nevada desert with sand storms beating the car. Despite the "somewhat eclectic" mix of people tensions were high. Was there any truth in the rumours of a car crash that blocked the road? Should we stay another night to enjoy Burning Man? Most people wanted to leave and just in time the last person hopped on board and we departed. We drove for half an hour until we hit the traffic jam and soon we were realised that we would be stuck for at least another 5 hours. At least we were moving.
 
During the wait in the traffic jam, people regularly hopped out of the car and chatted with their neighbours, watched kites in the sky or just stretched their legs. The "random guy" had hopped out for a long time. We asked him to stay in the car, but to no avail. Just before the campervan left the desert, he hopped out to see some friends behind us in the traffic jam.  We never saw him again and all his stuff was in the car.
 
And so started our road trip. Europeans often make fun of the geographical knowledge of Americans ("Belgium, is that the capital of The Netherlands?"), but I had no clue how far the drive to Austin (my next destination) was going to be. The answer was: long. But during the days our eclectic group spend together we had an amazing time. To be frank: my world is very different from the world of a healer. I don't see crystals in light beams with my bare eyes. I don't feel magnetic flows radiating of mountains. He does and he's an amazing guy. A world champion juggeling with a background in math is a totally different story. We spend countless hours brainstorming about iPhone apps, internet startups and patterns in throwing juggeling balls. A photomodel is not the typical person I hang out with, but she did brighten up our days. The owner of the car is a movie director, artist and photomodel too. She had the tough job of keeping us all sane and get the campervan / RV home in one piece.
 
To many things happened on that trip to recount here: we enjoyed the amazing decoration of the camper, we lost and found an alive three legged cat, swam in a gorgeous lake in the middle of the desert mountains, saw the most amazing sunset next to the Grand Canyon, etc. etc. A worthy continuation of Burning Man.
 
At the same time there were many sad stories: "do you have any brothers and sisters?" "yes, three and they're all dead". "If I don't arrive back in time for work I will lose my job, I don't have any savings and my parents don't support me". After I had left the campervan, I went on a 23 hrs busride from Alburquerque to Austin. More sadness. From the creative joyful white people of Burning Man to the harsh reality of American poverty (I definitely was the only one who had chosen the bus because I preferred it to flying). My fellow riders on this tour were immigrants and disillusioned consumers.
 
Reality had biten hard, but it wasn't able to wash out the memories of Burning Man. I'll be there again in 2012, let me know if you want to join.

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At Burning Man

It was a strange ritual: rolling yourself in dessert dust upon arrival if you're a first time ("virgin") Burning Man participant ("Burner"). Warily, I rubbed some dessert sand on me, not wanting to get Frank's car even more dirty. It had been a long drive and we'd been waiting in the hot sun, so all I wanted was to set up camp and get started. Frank explained that they were "greeters" as they told everybody "welcome home". It seemed kind of childish to me, and I suspected the same level of honesty from them as the underpaid people at the entrance of shops everywhere across the USA. Only much later I would understand why.
 
I was thrilled. Something I had (literally) travelled half the planet for, days of preparation and hours of driving was about to commence. And then a big silence until I gasped: it's huge! 50.000 people camping in the dessert isn't something you can imagine. Near endless streets filled with campers (or RV's as Americans call them), tents and anything that can create shade, in a three quarter circle. To my amazement we weren't the only ones with a special car, there were 100's, no thousands of cars like hours. From a little muffin concealing a a tricycle to massive trucks with sound systems to rival any club. Wearily I looked at my bike, most people drove bikes that were 3 meters high or 30 centimeters low, but few drove a standard second hand mountain bike like me.
 
Let's explain a bit more. Burning Man comes alive at night, when the hot dessert sun is replaced by thousands and thousands of lights of what are called "Art trucks". These are vehicles that typically are created by a camp, which is a group of people that decided to camp together and share things like food, water, shade and showers. All of these are precious as Burning Man has a pack-it-in-pack-it-out policy, meaning that everything you take to Burning Man has to be taken back. Moreover, you can't buy anything at Burning Man except for ice that is used to cool food and beverages. There is a tradition of "gifting" which is different from "barter" in the sense that the other person doesn't expect anything in return. This means for example that at Burning Man people will invite total strangers in their camps and have them drink and/or eat for free. And this happens a lot. At first I didn't understand: was there some corporation behind each camp that sponsored the drinks? (but why didn't I see any corporate logo's?), were all of these people filthy rich? (they sure didn't look like it). In the end the answer is much simpler than this: these people are very friendly and generous. So many a night you will share food and drinks with interesting strangers. At a very different level there are many similarities between TED and Burning Man: both TED and Burning Man bring together an amazing group of minds from very different backgrounds. Even though I've never attended a TED, I can tell that Burning Man is more hedonistic. Day and night you'll hear pumping techno from the large "sound camps". Is it all party then? No, definitely not. To my own surprise you'll quite a number of people sitting on their own in the dessert or biking around and enjoying the art structures that are spread out throughout the city.
 
But what do people do there? I had a look at the planning for Burning Man and for the first day I saw 48 pages with 12 items per page. At that point I resigned to seeing "everything". Actually, most people will tell you that they accomplish very little of their goals at Burning Man: "I was on the way to a class on a subject I never had even heard of, when I saw a group of people doing an amazing art performance, during which I met another group of people who told me about a performance at sunset tonight....".
 
If this all sounds very chaotic: it is. And it's wonderful. Burning Man is the best thing I've ever done. By a long shot. Why you ask? Sure there's great art, interesting lectures, beautiful art cars, living a week in the dessert, amazing sunsets/rises. But Burning Man is all about the people. Nearly everybody creates something and contributes to the experience of others. From executives to people on the brink of losing their job and forced to live on the street, anybody and everybody has interesting stories to share or things to show. At a personal, level I learnt some of the wisest lessons of my trip right there, by one of the most unlikely of teachers.
 
Come to Burning Man, really. Sure there are things that might not be for you. One of those things for me was loads of people walking around naked. It's just not my thing. If you don't like pumping techno bass: go to Hushville. You've got children? Go to Kidsville. You can't carry all your stuff? Rent a camper, join a camp or make some friends up front. You don't have money? You can make Burning Man as inexpensive as you want by getting (nearly) free rides to/from Burning Man.
 
Other questions? As the saying goes at Burning Man: "the playa will provide". Seriously, nearly anything is available right there. Doesn't matter if you need a welding machine, a screw, tent or anything. And people will share it with you for free. Burning Man has been the best thing I've ever done, and even if you're very different, it probably will have the same effect on you.

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Going to Burning Man

It was one of those rainy days in San Francisco. And no matter how much I loved SF, I couldn't help but feeling stressed for the trip to Burning Man. My backpack was full. So, how was I going to carry a bicycle, additional clothes, camping gear and food and water supplies for 10 days in the dessert?
 
But maybe I should start with why I was going to Burning Man anyway. It was an article from 1996 which had solidly locked Burning Man on my to-do-before-you-die list. Something about camping in the dessert, great people, cutting edge art and a progressive atmosphere, just triggered a switch. Before I left on this trip around the world I hadn't met anybody who had been to Burning Man. Just a couple of days before I arrived in San Francisco I was contemplating not going to Burning Man at all. Mainly because I was in heaven already: a paradise-like island of the northern coast of Sulawesi, $15 per day (food and accommodation included) with stunning snorkeling at a 30 second walk from my hut. Why would I go through all the cost, effort and stress to be camping in the dessert?
 
But then, slowly but steadily the Burning Man magic kicked in. An online plea for help quickly resulted in a reply: "just travel to Frank and he will help you get to Burning Man". I had managed to attach everything on my backpack (which ballooned to over 30 kilo's / 60 pounds) and after a train journey of a couple of hours I arrived in the small city of Auburn. Frank picked me up in his pickup truck and as we drove to his house he told me that we're probably going to leave a couple of days later. To shocked to speak because of the "theft" of my precious Burning Man days, I mocked in silence. Things cleared up quickly when Frank told me he had "a dragon". What that meant became clear very quickly: it was a massive hard foam dragon mounted on an extended golf cart, seating up to 6 persons. "It just needs a little bit of work" Frank confessed. 
 
A dream came true: not only did I get to go to Burning Man, I could contribute something (however little as well). For the next day and a half I helped Frank with the last errands on the dragon. He helped me get the food and water shopping done. During these days Frank (a 12 year Burning Man veteran) and his with Susan housed and fed me (a total stranger) for free and shared their life's stories. Both retired software engineers for the first large computers, they are not only very intelligent, but their unsurpassed hospitality made staying with them a true treat. My hurry to go to Burning Man was long forgotten when it was time to leave.

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Musical interlude: Mumford & Sons

It seems an eternity ago, at the beginning of my trip, somewhere on the coast in Southern India. Two very different Brits recommended me the same band. I dutifully noted the name in my 'to listen to' list and didn't think much of it for some time.

Once I downloaded the album (which isn't easy in India), I didn't like it: to much folk and they sounded like every other pub band. So I completely forgot about their music. Until a month or two ago. During one of my lengthy motorbike rides I gave Mumford & Sons a good listen and completely fell in love with their first album 'sigh no more'. Why? I can only describe it as follows: sometimes when you listen to music you want meet the creators because they must be interesting and passionate people.

The music is amazing and their lyrics put philosophers to shame. Try it and listen at least two times.

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I'm lost in this world

It has been a long time since I was this lost. The previous time it was different: a massive mountain in Argentina, fog, snow ice and rapidly changing weather. And I wasn't alone.

This time it was on a small island called 'Bunaken' of the coast of Sulawesi. Despite it's ridiculously small size, I managed to walk for hours without a clue of where to go. Even more humiliating: it was on the way back from a snorkeling trip. Calling the surroundings 'jungle' would be an overstatement, as it were mostly deserted coconut plantations. I hardly met anybody and the few persons I did encounter didn't seem to have a clue that any major tourism resorts on their tiny island.

My frustration with the situation only increased the scorching temperature and my water bottle was nearly empty. And then, there he was: an intelligent looking man, early 40's, the perfect guy to ask directions. Just like his fellow island dwellers I was 'only ten minutes away in roughly that direction'. I didn't buy his story, but bought him instead. The ridiculous sum of 2,5 euro for supposedly a 10 minutes walk. I was delighted though. When we where well on our way, he got a call on his mobile phone. Even with my limited knowledge of Indonesian I could make out 'foreigner, walking many hours, go to resort' and he mentioned the price. He had to explain it three times to the woman on the other side of the line. She didn't believe that a foreigner could get lost on the island, let alone pay such a sum. He gave up explaining and passed the phone to me. Within 3 seconds she knew that the foreigner her husband mentioned really existed. I did my best in confirming the story, ensuring my savior wouldn't get into trouble at home. When I arrived 'home' a lone turned around plate was waiting in the communal dining area. The story of the 'lost foreigner' quickly spread amongst the resort staff (thanks to my savior). This ensured a big smile from the waitress when she delivered my long longed for food.

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