So that was it for now. How to properly end a string of tales anyway? To know the last page of these writings is certainly not the end of the story. One might argue if a story ever truly ends in the first place. If only people keep reading and talking about it, it may actually live forever. Stories are created by dreamers, and daring to dream involves risk. Start your own search for true happiness and begin today.
Throw your television set out of the window in order to put a halt to the lies and indoctrination. Set yourself free from the utter nonsense that kills brain cells and leaves you bitter and spiritually poor. Go easy on eating pork because it’s ruining your body and infects your soul, and while you’re at it, try to hold back on the E-numbers as well. It might be a major change. You don’t have to be a tree-hugging loony to take care of yourself. Don’t be afraid of rejection or kicking useless friends out of your life who aren't real ones to begin with. What do you have to lose? Nothing. What can you gain? Precious time to invest in yourself and things that matter. If done in a natural way, working out in the gym will actually make you a better person. And for the love of God, make up your own ideas instead of letting others decide for you. Sitting home depressed, watching your life go by, or going to waste, is a destructive suicidal thing that drags you down into depths rather avoided. People who had a long and fruitful life hardly regret the things they did, yet they do regret the things they didn't do.
Being born into a family that never believed in me, where enthusiasm was mocked, creativity ridiculed and fantasy scoffed at, it was a long and heavy journey to break free from all that negative energy, for the lack of a better term.
When I was about ten years old I hitchhiked for the first time. That day I drifted from home quite a bit as a narrow trail led me to stroll along dense reed shorelines of a big lake. As usual, my eyes were set to find bird skulls and real treasures, so much so this particular time that I didn’t notice massive thunderclouds rolling in. When lightning began I realized there was nowhere to hide in the unprotected open fields. At a nearby highway I put my little unsuspecting thumb up in the hope to escape the armageddon upon me. Moments before the weather would turn savage a couple pulled over in the smallest car you’ve ever seen. I will never forget it, behind the wheel sat a man with a long dark ponytail, silver rings in both ears, a black leather vest and his arms tattooed. Next to him an old lady with long grey hair, looking like a stereotypical witch. It took a few seconds for my curiosity to prevail over the hesitation. Seldom did I meet such lovely people though, a bit weird perhaps, but lovely. Once home, my parents were clearly more angry I got into a stranger’s car than relieved I was back safely. Not a sign of concern nor compassion. It’s because of this reaction I don’t hitchhike even a single time in the following fifteen years.
Every once in a while you find a real home in unsuspected corners. For example, back in the early fall of 2003 I happened to be in the Swiss country side on the border with France. Leaving wooden mini villages behind I am getting ready to climb a certain mountain at the foot of the Alps. It seems a well-considered thought to ask to fill up my water bottles at a small farmhouse next to a green field with fenced-in horses. When she notices my stuttering as I try to find the right words in French, the lady of the well-maintained house shifts to German, a language we both happen to speak quite decently, when required. Chatting away about my planned solo ascension and the reason why I am dressed in a camouflaged army uniform (for me and my friends loved to have survival weekends in the woods) it turns out her daughter had communion that very morning. It is Sunday and the whole family just came back from church. Now seated at a long table with spotless white sheets, cutlery of real silver and a surplus of traditional local dishes. Although feeling a bit awkward and out of place I accept her spontaneous invitation to the celebration. Shy children observe the intruder from across the table until the first one approaches. It doesn’t take very long to be surrounded by them, all wanting to take a picture with me.
One delicious lunch later the lady of the house starts off a serious conversation, leading up to her asking me about my dreams. By now it’s just the two of us in a different part of the beautiful spacious overgrown garden. Unknowingly being three years away from the actual event, I open up and share I am going to Tibet to climb Mount Everest. This is on my agenda and nothing can make me deviate from this goal. Completely contrary to the patronizing responses I’m used to, she says the following that I will carry in my heart for the rest of my life: “Send me a message when you’re there”, meanwhile writing her contact information on a piece of paper. Wait, what? From the undeniable determination in her voice I know instantly she has put all her faith in me. Almost choking up, I detect not even the slightest glimmer of cynicism. She recognized the passion in my eyes. Perhaps for the first time in my life I feel as if someone really believes in me and my capabilities. Bizarre to get such encouragement from a total stranger.
Speaking about reaching goals, a prominent recent one is aiming to inspire others with my story. Hopefully you enjoyed reading my comprised endeavors, and join me in continuing where I left off in the next upcoming volume!
Always forging plans for future travels there is plenty to research or dream about. But first things first, every journey starts with finding the means to be independent. Some travelers choose to solely rely on hospitality of locals, disrespectfully draining them in the process. In my proverbial book there is no escaping of having to work and save. And actually, I kind of like it like that. Funding yourself gives no greater satisfaction when spending it on new experiences in far-away cultures. Already making preparations for the next incredible journey I can’t wait to do what I do best. I think deep down inside I will always be that little child, sitting in the seat on the back of my mother’s bicycle, ready to escape to explore the world.
To be continued…