We’ve been kind of on the road for about two weeks now. In between sights and stops i am also reading Kerouac’s On The Road, and it has inspired a lot in me, from a way to write to a way of life.
My mind wanders every night before I fall asleep, no matter whether we are parked next to my beloved Ebro, far up in the hills at a hippie’s retreat, or on the streets of a bustling Spanish city during its most festive week. I wonder, and all too often worry, about the would haves, could haves, should haves, about money and work and about what my life will become once I step back on home soil on September 11th.
I meet people to whom I voice these issues, and I find that the same things plague them too, whether they are a 23 year old teacher on their summer holiday walking the pilgrim route; 35 and an ex IT guy turned travelling hippie or a soon to hit the big 30 gardener with a passionate political heartbeat.
A generation lost in a society that leaves us unsatisfied.
Unambitious? Lazy? Lost? Or just the few brave enough to go against the flow?
I do not want to go home and settle down, I do not want to pay rent and I do not want to earn money just because I have to pay rent / life insurance / debit orders or have to fit into some preconceived idea of what I should be doing as I approach that big 3-0.
I guess it is easy to ignore these things as I cruise around Spain with a beautiful man that provides me with a mobile place to stay and feeds me regular meals while I buy us the occasional coffee or ice cream. This post was going to be about places we have gone and cool shit we have seen, but here I go again with all my concerns and so called fears. Real first world problems…
Yet I sit on a mountain (after an 8km hike) watching fireworks, and instead of just enjoying the spectacular sight, I worry about the dogs in the noise, the cloud of pollution in the night sky and I ponder how many Euros it all must cost, and how many families back home it could feed, for how long.
I visit an exotic city and I see waste and consumerism like plagues on the street, I camp on the banks of a beautiful river and I struggle to see beyond the blatant pollution and disregard for nature.
Some days I have to wonder if I am a cynic, if I will ever really be able to enjoy a moment for what it is; if I am destined to over think and over analyse everything I encounter. Other days I wish more people would think and feel the way I do.
Soooo, About that road trip…
Since my last post about bidding the pirates goodbye and hitching to Barcelona we have;
Spent four days in Barcelona, walking around trying to not look like tourists, napping in parks and marvelling at the Garcia Festival (insert cynical thoughts on consumerism, tourists, plastic, waste and pissing on the street here)
Spent a day and night back at Calafou taking walks and reading books
Hung out with Tim and his dad for a day and night, eating beautiful meals on their patio overlooking Alforga and walking in his unruly orchards in the soft dripping rain
Reunited with my brother and some of the pirates in Zaragoza, with just enough time to have beers and good tapas, but not enough time to do hand poke tattoos.
Camped and relaxed on the banks of the Ebro one last time, with a pirate of a different kind.
Walked the streets of Tortosa (mostly to look for a bar with wifi) Tudela (for now my prize for most beautiful town visited) Logronos (and the biggest supermarket I have ever been in, sorry Bryan but I did not really like your city) and Vitoria (no idea why Michelin put a green recommendation block around this one) and crossed the mighty Rio Ebro one last time, with a tear in my eye and many good memories in my heart.
Currently I am in Bilbao, a stunning city, even more beautiful when viewed from above while grand amounts of fireworks explode below.
Tomorrow we head for the Atlantic coast (ocean I have missed you) and soon France, where I might even learn to surf.