"Traveling - it leaves you speechless, then it turns you into a storyteller." - Ibn Battuta
Every journey is also a story. And vice-versa, every story is also a journey. Travelling and stories are twins. Inseparably linked.
Michael Palin, world-famous member of the Monty Python troupe, also a much-travelled storyteller, says:
"Once you get the travel fever, there's no known cure, and I like to suffer from it for the rest of my life."
Life is easy
Of course not.
It's terribly complicated. Everybody knows the tough demands of modern daily life, which are becoming more and more difficult to master.
But there are two very simple things to do. To make life easier.
Picking up a book and reading it.
Packing a bag and leaving.
Traveling begins with a vision
An idea. As it might be. The cultures. The language. The people. The climate. The food.
Maybe the dangers ...
It is always different.
Reality rarely meets expectations.
In most cases, reality far exceeds expectations. Mostly in a positive, rarely in a negative way.
It takes a tough decision.
So get out ...
... into the Backpackers world
And forget what Blaise Pascal claimed over 300 years ago:
"The whole misfortune of the people stems solely from the fact that they can not remain quiet in a room."
I prefer to leave the room from time to time and let myself fall into the unknown. To let things run their course.
What it takes is a vision mixed with fearlessness and a little naivety.
Everything else is self-evident. You find things. Or things find you. As the lonely Buddha did outside Nyaungshwe in Myanmar.
My personal Buddha
He found me in the middle of the swamps near Inle Lake, looking for ... nothing. And so I found my very personal Buddha - away from the noise and the bustle of the city.
It is part of a whole arrangement, consisting of countless small and large stupas, gold verziert, whitewashed with white color, here and there a little Kinkerlitzchen, playful, as the Asiaten love.
The sounds of the nearby river are silent, only the wind carries the delicate ringing of countless tiny bells.
A quiet concert for no one ...
Or maybe for me alone?
[Excerpt from the daily journal - see Blog]
Life takes place everywhere
Even where nobody suspects it.
In small, poor villages.
Or run down buses and trains.
And also in hidden little restaurants, where the boss looks like belonging to a local mafia clan, but cooks like God in France.
On the street in the middle of a crowd of cheering childrenwho beg for sweets. And color pencils received.
On trecks far away from civilization.
Amidst bare mountains and wastes.
So go get out ... on the Road ... again.
Backpacking - The simple way of traveling
Every few months a familiar feeling creeps in, a sudden tightening of the chest, when I see a picture on television or in the newspaper.
A boat on a river, slowly sailing towards the sun.
A market whose pungent aromas I believe to smell.
Camels, with proudly raised heads gliding slowly across the desert.
Yellow TukTuks, interlocked between a million people.
Then I am lost.
I have to sit down, let my thoughts flow, but they are already far away. I know that I have to go. I have to smell, look, hear.
Conquer the world again. Or at least a small part of it.
The experience of the world as a backpacker ...