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..
In 2016 I took a turn.
An unsigned turn without a street name, an unpaved road not to be found on any map or GPS. Without certainty about where it would lead, what the surface would be like, if it could be a dead end road, have side trails or be just a detour bound to join the main road again.
*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.
I have to admit that over the last few months ‘crossing the United States‘ started to seem more like a necessity then a pleasure to me. The forecast of traveling through a country where ‘consuming’ seems to be the foundation of the Maslow pyramid didn’t seem very enticing to me.