On the road: 106km FROM ALASKA

Friday, 25 July 2008

106km FROM ALASKA

This blog-post is created thanks to the encouragement and support of Kurt and Monica from Swizerland, whom I shared a wonderful conversation and a breakfast with yesterday morning in Stewart Crossing campsite 160 km from Dawson City

I do not have a watch, but I am never late. To the people I meet, I am a person without past nor future, I come from unknown and leave into the unknown, travelling with them in the short time of our meeting of the NOW. Yet to me all of them represent an inseparable continuous chain, with each link connected. I often feel I am not the master of my footsteps, but it is the Chain that is taking me to the places I have to be, guiding me to the things I need to see.

Through another of what it seems random (or inevitable) encounter with an artist Patrick Royale whom I met in a small community in a 45 min drive from Whitehorse, I learned of a town called Dawson City 106 km from Alaskan border.

"You have to meet the mayor of Dawson City," said Patrick
"Why?"
"Because he is from Estonia."

Today I went to the City Office. The lady at the reception desk made the necessary call. I know already that the mayor's answer "Right from next door", probably means Latvia or Lithuania, still I am excited to share a cup of coffee with him in half an hour in one of Dawson City's coffee-shops.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...: A lot of congratulations for your learning of world trots. In order that a knowledge is "real" and significant it needs to pass for 5 senses. We wish the best of the successes you
atte: Daniel Corro and family
from Acatlán de Osorio, Puebla. MEXICO

P.D.Excuse my English is bad; October 26, 2008

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TO VILLA ANGOSTURA

This is the story of how I unexpectedly discovered another paradise corner of the earth. The truck driver Pedro was merciful enough not to let me out on an empty crossroad in the middle of the night and brought me home in Junin de Los Andes. When the next morning I was looking at the map, the idea of going back in itself became alien, even after Pedro and his wife Olga had said the road to Villa Angostura be empty and dangerous for the lack of pavement. These landscapes I saw when traveling from Junin de los Andes to Villa Angostura on May 12th were thus a true surprise present. The photos were taken thanks to my kind ride - Jorje and Lucia, who stopped every now and then to record at least a tiny bit of what we saw.

AS SOUTH AS POSSIBLE

A good-bye to Chascomus (in the province of Buenos Aires) on the 8th of May ment a new beginning - a return to a round zero where past was just a story and future a white sheet, yet to be written. I met people and got to know them for the given time - for however long the journey lasted. At night there was always a safe place to stay as if prepared, and not once I experienced hunger. I was on the road in total for seven days arriving to my destination in Punta Arenas on May 15th.

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Confucius

Kenji Miyazawa

not losing to the rain
not losing to the wind
not losing to the snow
or to the heat of the summer
with a strong body
unfettered by desire
never losing temper
cultivating a quiet joy
every day four bowls
of brown rice, miso
and some vegetables to eat
with everything
never letting emotion
get in the way
watching and listening,
and understanding
and never forgetting
in the shade of the woods
of the pines of the fields
being in a little thatched hut
if there is a sick child
to the east
going and nursing over them
if there is a tired mother
to the west
going and shouldering her
sheaf of rice
if there is someone near death
to the south
going and saying
there's no need to be afraid
if there is a quarrel or a suit
to the north
telling them to leave off
with such waste
when there's drought,
shedding tears of sympathy
when the summer's cold,
walk in concern and empathy
called a blockhead by everyone
without being praised
without being blamed
such a person
I want to become

2001: Summary

Destinations: 1) Louvre Art Museum, Paris, France; 2) "where the green meadows reach the snowy mountain-tops, and in the sky you can see the weather forming", North of Scotland; Travel companion: Piia Taremaa (until Paris). In the second part of the journey I hitchhike on the wrong side of the road and end up in Italy. Scotland is cut off once again when I spend the night in a British prison in Dover, as I enter the country illegaly (unknowingly). After my deportation to France I seek to find the tundra in the North of Sweden and Finland. Duration: 6 weeks. Budget 100 DEM

2005: Summary

MY HITCHHIKING CV