Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras. Countries that would let many father- and mother heart shake with anxiety at the thought of their child traveling through ’em. Countries that are famous for their high murder rate, their drugs trafficking and gangs. The hearts of my parents shook too when I told them I would ride my bicycle through those countries. And they still do..
My phone wakes me up. Since I arrived in the south I get up before sunrise every morning. I pack my stuff, have breakfast and try to be on my bicycle as soon as it gets light. I write ‘try’, because it seems to get light earlier every morning and seen the fact that I’m riding south that might actually be the case.
Not a sign in sight to point me the way to the border. I decide to ask a pedestrian; ‘How do I get to Mexico?’. He shows me the way and within minutes I pass by a short traffic jam waiting for their turn with customs, still, not a sign around. No ‘Goodbye’, no ‘Visit again’, no ‘Have a great trip’, no stars and stripes, no police. Nothing! Does Trump believe that he can keep ‘his people’ within the U.S. borders just by hiding all evidence of there being borders? Interesting..
*PANG KLANG YEEHAAAAA*
in other words: I’M BACK!
Recharged, rested, motivated, happy! Wild awake! Two weeks of non-stop camping, vast empty landscapes of steppe and desert, away from ‘civilization’, sun on my face and a book instead of my laptop; that turned out to be the recipe to regain my power, my pill.