Showing posts with label luck. Show all posts.
March 22. Luck.
February 26. Beautiful skies.
I write a bad English to demonstrate the vanity of perfectionism. The text I will produce must be valueless; I envision loose threads in the tissue of your meaning. I don't know, I don't know. I am sitting in a plane again that flies through thin air. It will bring me to Buenos Aires, the enormous Argentinian Capital at the earh-colored Rio Plata. It is the last step I organized in advance. After this, I will let the wind take me on for a while, like a flower seed reluctant to fall onto fertile soil. On board of the plane I am offered a meal and I meet some people. After introducing myself and some advanced smalltalk, I am offered a ride and even a place to stay. This tiny thing called luck is never running out.
Luck! A positive experience coming suddenly and out of the blue, an experience that makes you feel alive. You can stand on a green hilltop your arms stretched towards the sky and wait for it to befall you, but it probably won't. You sigh and you climb down the hill and when you come down you meet a wonderful person.
So my luck hasn't run out yet. I was brought into town with a comfortable SUV and invited by a friendly young student couple that lives in the Palermo neighbourhood, right in the center of Buenos Aires. We walked the streets and got some money at a presumably corrupt bank. With everything settled, we went home to relax and, in my case, to dream about a doorframe with large rusty hinges that catch the eye because there is no door.
Luck! A positive experience coming suddenly and out of the blue, an experience that makes you feel alive. You can stand on a green hilltop your arms stretched towards the sky and wait for it to befall you, but it probably won't. You sigh and you climb down the hill and when you come down you meet a wonderful person.
So my luck hasn't run out yet. I was brought into town with a comfortable SUV and invited by a friendly young student couple that lives in the Palermo neighbourhood, right in the center of Buenos Aires. We walked the streets and got some money at a presumably corrupt bank. With everything settled, we went home to relax and, in my case, to dream about a doorframe with large rusty hinges that catch the eye because there is no door.
January 28. Lucky in Lisbon
Andre showed me around in his hometown Lisbon. We walked uphill into the Barrio Alto, and he showed me some bars in this lively part of the city. When it became clear that I had no Couchsurfing options open, he very kindly offered me his couch. Relieved of all my worries, I had a very nice evening in a bar with Andre and a girl who was an actress studying a Pirandello play.
Since there was internet, I aired my giddyness in a Facebook-status message "Kamiel is drinking ginger-tea in Lisbon". I found that it sounded somehow exotic. At about eleven, Andre took me home with his black smart-car, curving sharply through the steep cobblestone streets of central Lisbon. Later that night, he went out again. I felt too tired and preferred the couch, on which I fell asleep over a funny Bunuel DVD.
For today, I recommend the poetry of Ann Hatcherly, a Portugese with an English name. Andre had a Portuguese-Spanish bilingual edition. It's beautifully crafted language.
Since there was internet, I aired my giddyness in a Facebook-status message "Kamiel is drinking ginger-tea in Lisbon". I found that it sounded somehow exotic. At about eleven, Andre took me home with his black smart-car, curving sharply through the steep cobblestone streets of central Lisbon. Later that night, he went out again. I felt too tired and preferred the couch, on which I fell asleep over a funny Bunuel DVD.
For today, I recommend the poetry of Ann Hatcherly, a Portugese with an English name. Andre had a Portuguese-Spanish bilingual edition. It's beautifully crafted language.
Airplane to Lisbon
There's nothing special about air transportation. I got to the airport way to early, checked in my backpack, except for my netbook which I kept in my cabin luggage, entered the plain after some boys yelled "Portugal!" expressing how fond they where of going to that country. Soon enough, they'll get older and say "I've 
been everywhere man. Nothing excites me anymore man". Life is boring. In the air I explained one of the boys about my netbook. He'd buy one himself, too.
In Lisbon, it was the usual drill. I took a shuttle bus to the center, checked the internet but was not welcome on no couch, so I walked to the post officed, where I met Andre who was very friendly to show me around, take me to a nice bar, and eventually when all my other options had died, let me sleep on his couch. We met his friend Christa, an actress who was currently preparing a Pirandello play, and drank ginger tea which I announced on facebook. The world is very much connected, they people are very much disconnected. Sorry, I'll stop with that tone now. Perhaps it was because I fell asleep over a Luis Bunuel-movie... It was amazing hospitality and I am very grateful for it.
I discovered new hobby: taking photographs like this one of people on the street and making up stories to fit them. I am fond of this one... I made more photo's available online at picasa. The whole bunch will be uploaded there.
been everywhere man. Nothing excites me anymore man". Life is boring. In the air I explained one of the boys about my netbook. He'd buy one himself, too.In Lisbon, it was the usual drill. I took a shuttle bus to the center, checked the internet but was not welcome on no couch, so I walked to the post officed, where I met Andre who was very friendly to show me around, take me to a nice bar, and eventually when all my other options had died, let me sleep on his couch. We met his friend Christa, an actress who was currently preparing a Pirandello play, and drank ginger tea which I announced on facebook. The world is very much connected, they people are very much disconnected. Sorry, I'll stop with that tone now. Perhaps it was because I fell asleep over a Luis Bunuel-movie... It was amazing hospitality and I am very grateful for it.
I discovered new hobby: taking photographs like this one of people on the street and making up stories to fit them. I am fond of this one... I made more photo's available online at picasa. The whole bunch will be uploaded there.
Heading North...
The next day I felt my time had come to finally go to Lapland. So I said goodbye to Anna-Sofia and went to the train station. The personnel told me student rebate was not available for foreign students, which was a good excuse for me to go hitchhiking. It was raining outside and I should have felt bad. Instead, I hummed some invented melodies on my way to the freight terminal. I had to wait only about 20 minutes before a truck driver took me halfway to Tampere, a bigger town 200 km north of Helsinki. Since he was younger he spoke some English, but our conversation didn't really go beyond occasional remarks about the good roads here and the bumpy once in Poland. He brought me to a gas station, where I immediately got a ride from an Estonian architect. Now this one was interesting. He drove to Tampere, where he actually showed me a larger building he had designed. It looked good, and gave me the feeling the world is not that big after all.
I didn't want to stay in Tampere though, and posted myself alongside the road to Vaasa with my ultimate direction drawn on a piece of paper a man at the gas station kindly gave me. Again, it didn't take more than ten minutes to get a ride, this time from a nice older truck driver from Vaasa, who took me all the 230 kilometers to his town.
Hitchhiking romantics has been described in many ways, and there are probably as many words about it as there are kilometers on the road. I felt like I should contribute something of my own. We sat silently next to each other and listened to the pop songs played by the local radio channel. It was so peaceful, and I felt so lively. Before darkness I reflected about the truck mirrors, which were plenty but never enough to completely overcome the blind spot. I liked the metaphore with the reflecting mirrors, and decided to do some self-reflection tomorrow. I also saw something that could really be a good candidate for the primordial hitchhiking experience. What did I see? I saw a rainbow in the exhaust vapor of the truck driving in front of us.
It got dark and I stood in the center of Vaasa. A woman told me that I was on the road directly to Oulu, which was not on the signs yet because it was too far away. I walked that road, holding up my sign, and got lucky again. First a man working for an international technical documentation company brought me to a 24 hour roadside restaurant, after a coffee there an security guard took me to a crossing, and from there, two incredibly friendly Husky-people took me and offered me a place to sleep. Their car was packed with three big friendly dogs and a laundromat, but still they could fit me in. We drove to their home in Eskola, a small town of 300, in the middle of the country. That night, I also got my first sauna experience in Finland. My new friends prepared a bed in the kitchen, where I slept really well.
I didn't want to stay in Tampere though, and posted myself alongside the road to Vaasa with my ultimate direction drawn on a piece of paper a man at the gas station kindly gave me. Again, it didn't take more than ten minutes to get a ride, this time from a nice older truck driver from Vaasa, who took me all the 230 kilometers to his town.
Hitchhiking romantics has been described in many ways, and there are probably as many words about it as there are kilometers on the road. I felt like I should contribute something of my own. We sat silently next to each other and listened to the pop songs played by the local radio channel. It was so peaceful, and I felt so lively. Before darkness I reflected about the truck mirrors, which were plenty but never enough to completely overcome the blind spot. I liked the metaphore with the reflecting mirrors, and decided to do some self-reflection tomorrow. I also saw something that could really be a good candidate for the primordial hitchhiking experience. What did I see? I saw a rainbow in the exhaust vapor of the truck driving in front of us.
It got dark and I stood in the center of Vaasa. A woman told me that I was on the road directly to Oulu, which was not on the signs yet because it was too far away. I walked that road, holding up my sign, and got lucky again. First a man working for an international technical documentation company brought me to a 24 hour roadside restaurant, after a coffee there an security guard took me to a crossing, and from there, two incredibly friendly Husky-people took me and offered me a place to sleep. Their car was packed with three big friendly dogs and a laundromat, but still they could fit me in. We drove to their home in Eskola, a small town of 300, in the middle of the country. That night, I also got my first sauna experience in Finland. My new friends prepared a bed in the kitchen, where I slept really well.
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