Thursday, July 20, 2006

Coming home is like riding a bike and it takes less than a hour for all the visions of Moroccan streets, Italian countrysides, Czech rivers and Swedish girls to slink away deeper and deeper inside of me until they've such a small corner to curl up in that I'm no longer sure if I was ever gone or if I watched a special on the Travel Channel.

The best way to do this is by the numbers. Facts aren't emotions, they're just the leftovers when all emotions fade.

Days since I left my front door: 57

Amount of money I spent: Somewhere in the ballpark of $4000

Number of countries I set foot in: 17 in the order of Great Britain, Belgium, Netherlands, Germany, France, Portugal, Spain, Morocco, Italy, Croatia, Serbia/Montenegro, Austria, Hungary, Slovakia, Poland, Czech Republic and Sweden.

Weight of my backpack before departure: 34 lbs.

Weight of Backpack upon return: 26 lbs.

Most Spectacular moment: Kitesurfing off the coast of Morocco to a small deserted island.

Most depressing moment: Having my friend's camera stolen after 7 weeks of travel.

Favorite activity: Taking night trains and dreaming away while the miles rolled by beneath me.

Best new acquaintance: Anwar, my new Moroccan friend who teaches english and invited me into his family home in the tiny town of Ksar el Kebir.

Number of girls I kissed: 5

Number of girls I kissed in their native country: 0.3. (She was Half Hungarian and Half Polish and we were on a night train between the two but most of the kissing happened over Slovakia... go look at a map).

Number of girls I slept with: Zero. Come on girls, give me more credit than that.

Number of phone calls to anyone in the states: Zero.

Number of beers consumed: impossible to determine

Number of trains/planes/subways/busses and taxis ridden during the trip: again impossible but certainly over 55.

Lasting memory that will keep my soul alive until the next adventure: Croatian sunsets, Marrakesh's main square bustling at night, Watching the light fade over the castle by the Vlatava river, everything in Porto, Portugal and the knowledge that I'll be back again.

Everything is blown wide open. I have no plans. I have no one depending on me. I have no job and nowhere to be and no classes and no girls grabbing for a piece of my time. I'm free and I'm going to build it all up from the basement again. I guess if you stay real quiet then I don't mind if you sit here and watch. Lucky you.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Swedish girls are the best. Keep on with the memories.

8:47 AM  

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