Belgium

Belgium. BE. België. Belgique. So what would you do when you, after flying through fat layers of endless grey mist and coldness, arrive in a petite country that is only well known for its beer, chocolate and... that's it? I had no clue what was going to happen. I did not think any second there would be my best friends at the airport, but Dokus and Peter were - and so I had my first real Stella in more than a year - and believe me, that tasted deliciously good.

I felt like a tourist, the first weeks. Even the train ride home was surrealistic to me and I analysed all the details like I did before in all those countries. I could understand everything those people were talking/complaining about, can you imagine? Of course you can, but for me, it was special, kind of magic. And when I arrived at the train station to take the final bus home, I realized I made this one error, again, like 14 months on the exact same spot a year ago: I forgot to bring some euros to the station, and they do not have any ATM there. So I hitch-hiked home, haha, I thought it was funny and it were the very last official seconds in transport during this trip. 

My parents warmly welcomed me with Belgian flags, champagne and my favourite food and I immediately felt home. But you know me, the world is not enough, so a couple of days later I left for Paris to visit Lewis, the little big guy who will call me godfather. A few days later I returned to Brussels. Home. Finally. No more buses, trains or airplanes for a while. This cocktail of feelings became even more stirred when I had to make the decision about the very near future. Where to work? Where to live?  Believe me, the choices were difficult. I knew I had to be careful. I had to stay busy, move myself around. Avoid falling in this hole of grey sadness and melancholy, keep the thoughts and emotions alive to avoid this kind of cold turkey. And so I did.

Beautiful Brussels

And then Brussels talked to me. I walked around the city, with my camera, and listened. I opened all my senses for the city and I fell in love again. The noise and the quietness, the beautiful bars and the mix of cultures pulled me back like a magnet. In less than a few lazy days I found myself this crazy big house and I signed to go back to my previous job. The coming days I'll be 'busy' with editing pictures, chilling out in the living room and think about this all again. 

It's been... awesomelicious, I still did not absorb everything, and I realize how wonderful this whole thing was. I wrote a poem about it, it's in Dutch. But you'll understand.

  dM3

 

Shalom Israel!

I entered this last country of my trip with hardly any preparation. I knew Israel from the news, the stories, the prejudices produced by people who never came to this sunny melting pot of different religions.

The facts. I never stayed in a hotel or hostel. I never got bombed. I never was in a bus or train without soldiers. Yes, I went to the Palestinian side. No, I never got killed there either.

The closest I got to death: Jesus' prison, Jerusalem... and the Dead Sea. Hahaho!

I have met Israeli people in many countries, and sometimes I thought the amplitude of their noise would redefine the scale of Decibel. Anyways, I kinda like loud people and they made me curious to go and check out the Land of the Loud. And Jesus.

 Guns 'n Moses, Jerusalem

The moment I got in, invitations where thrown at me from so many Israeli people to stay at their place that I had to start planning. Planning! After living the random life! People I met during the trip invited me for Shabat Shalom's with their family and some of them took days off to join me and guide me through this small yet magnificent country. I floated on the lowest lake of the world (Dead Sea) and I stayed in a tiny Kibbutz village close to the Jordan border. I had a nice reunion with Chay and Yahel and Belgian beer. I met a special girl with hair more voluminous than I could ever imagine. I tried to walk on water in the Sea of Galilee but failed. And hitchhiking to Syria also did not really work out (but we got close, didn't we Guy?).

 

Holy Potato! Jerusalem!

Jerusalem surprised me because of its harmonious blend of past and present. Getting lost in such an old city (tunnels, bridges, caves, churches... everywhere!) surrounded by Christians, Jews and Arabs felt like traveling through several countries all at once and I treated myself with delicious arabic knaffe, Yemenite soup and the original falafel. Bethlehem on the other side of the wall seemed the perfect place to celebrate Christmas. But the night out with 'vampire' couch surf host Mor and her insane friends and some beer the night before in Jerusalem made me forget my passport and I almost ended up in Palestina... forever.

Delicious food in Jerusalem (my favorite, humus, on the right)

Somehow I got through the security check by speaking some random English and by waving my Belgian bank card as a 'proof of identification'. In the North, I met up with Naveh and Shimrit, who took me for an adventure to Caesarea and the hanging Baha'i gardens in Haifa. After they stuffed me with delicious Israeli food, I rolled back to Tel Aviv to say Shalom to the New Year and give Aimee the first high-five of 2013 in the most famous club of Tel Aviv (although nobody knew where it was). A few days later I took the invitation from Talia and her parents and went to the Golan Heights, watching over Jordan and Israel from a nice Kibbutz called Tel Katzir. To summarize, a kibbutz basically is a village where you can take free avocados from the trees and where everybody has rasta hair and/or smokes. Oh, and they have bomb shelters, too.

I read about the history and the politics, lived at peoples houses, made beautiful friendships, visited the lowest and highest places - Israel gradually became one of the the top-favorites of the trip.

Israel is a country that you cannot pretend to hate or love without having been here. I am very happy I gave it a try. I love Israel! Toda, shalom. And Happy New Year to all of you!

A special thank you to Keren, Nalev and Shimrit, Mor and Talia who hosted me as if I were a prince.

A train to Shimla

The touts, the hassl, the scams; they all disappeared at once with my admission in that train from Kalka to Shimla. During five hours, the wobbling train rolled over bridges and through unlit tunnels at a frequency you wouldn’t believe because there were many but it also went all so peacefully slow... A description of the facts, written in wagon C3 P42 window seat on 11.12.12.

 Beautiful portrait of the wonderful and proud train conductor.

As the train makes its swirling way up aside the steep hillsides, my eyes scan the wagon filled up with two lost tourists and a few married couples – or at least most look so – they seem as excited as me about this train ride, and even more I guess, since their first passionate night is planned or even arranged to be tonight. I look outside and I like everything about the show coming through the windows as if they are extended TV screens displaying a great non stop voyage through panoramas of green Indian hills. Even dirty train tracks become suddenly interesting when disposed lunchboxes handed out in lost grey train stations are not to my surprise like statistically spread rotting samples of a Gaussian trash belt until there are none or just a few and even more.
The sound of tinkling joyful glittering jewellery is a melodious yet contrasting sound compared to the monotonous rhythm of the train wheels digesting the narrow tracks below us travelers and that all is muted evenly by the density of a dark diesel loudness.

The locomotive can’t make it to another upcoming top I truly believe sometimes – yet it does every time and it continues without complaining it seems or maybe it longs seeing the gentleman playing cricket in the late afternoon sun only some stone throws further up.

I am convinced women truly look great in this wagon with their colorful dresses and tikas on the forehead and hennaed hands holding smartphones which actually make yours looking like fossils yet those ringtones are too loud and disturbing the delicate harmony and arrrgh why does it take you hours to even answer it? But that was the last call coming in as reception is being left behind, below.
And then I think their beauty cannot be timeless because they’d eat as if it were fasting thereafter forever and chips and other oily food disappear in their mouths and then their chubby bellies and all what is left disappears thereafter through the open windows which are being functional now not only as a fake TV screen but also as a natural ventilation system replacing the spicy air with a thick humid and cooling breeze.

One of the girls looks like a princess and even a sultan would not be worth her stunning smile and beauty but the gentleman next to her clearly is. Their joy makes me both happy and jealous like a two coloured cocktail in my mind. Her hands are detailed with dark hennae art and her arms are almost fully covered with a slightly transparent red dress and shiny jewellery and her eyes and entire face are a living magnet for my eyes. Maybe I've been drugged with happiness into my lunch box - I hope I will never know.

As we elevate the setting sun is caught by us before it even can hide behind the hills surrounded by clouds below this tiny train driving up to maybe even nowhere. Orange shadows coming from a sun which now only looks like a distant faded spot light are thrown inside and you can feel the windows radiating the sky’s cold to the inside.
After all these deserts, beaches, volcanoes, islands and caves this journey brings me to one of the last pinpoints on the map – a green simple hill city in Northern India.

Then suddenly between my wandering thoughts the sun is totally gone to sleep and the train finally arrives and everybody is relieved about that. It is utterly cold now and as I walk my way towards a place to stay I exhale bright clouds into the darkness of the early night only revealed by some shy street lamps – and I do so not only because I like it but also because the way is steep and tiring and my luggage is heavy and it also makes me feel being a part of this endless fog around. A man speaks to me and I follow him with no further questions to a guesthouse like a million stairs up. Three blankets keep me warm as do the thoughts to the young woman in that the wagon from Kalka to Shimla.
I put away the paper, the pen now, and switch off my head torch and disappear into further thoughts and dreams that will bring me even further.

 

(left) Shimla in the early morning - first view outside!
(right, below) Shimla's cozy street life

 

Sensations in India

Choosing India as one of the last destinations of a world tour seemed a logical thing a few months back. Being the second biggest nation of the world, it was announced to me as maybe the number one in contrast, craziness and around-the-clock surprises. And it's conveniently located in between South East Asia and Belgium, too. Utterly unprepared, I landed in Delhi two weeks ago. I have seen a lot during my travels, but this, India, is completely unthinkable. I organized myself a trip to Varanasi, one of the oldest and holiest cities and a true Hindu pilgrimage center. Via Agra and the Taj Mahal, I trained to Rajasthan, famous for its medieval forts and palaces, arts and culture.

Sunset somewhere between Jaisalmer and New Delhi

A few of the thousands stunning buildings. That is me on the right, yes!

Oh it IS true! The minarets of the Tai Mahal are slanting!

Cities are human ant colonies and excessively tiresome, yet a pleasure for all the senses. You hear the discussions of women dressed up in beautiful shiny embroidered clothes, you see burkas next to Sikhs wearing colorful turbans while you are being yelled at by 5 different tuk tuk drivers. Cities are covered by a thick layer of fog, maybe caused by the ever present burning aromatic incenses but more probably by burning garbage evenly spread over the city and streets - only when they are not being 'processed' by holy cows or pigs, often flanked by defecating lost souls.

This gentleman found a quite place to make a phone call

The moment you think you've seen it all, there is more. Burning dead bodies, a few people in a row pooping next to the train track, overcrowded trains, child labor, camels and elephants in the city center, babies wearing make-up... India has got it all.

Many kids work half time and go to school.

Don't know about this little fellow, but it's better than rag picking, no?

As I am trying to understanding the daily life here, far away from ridiculous tourist tours and AC buses, I am going wild with my camera and engaging in small talk with people in the streets. Every day I get more used to India, and the initial aversion slowly mutated into an understanding appreciation of India.

Getting specialised in portraits

Trying to integrate...

Today, I ordered myself some tailor made pants - the negotiation process, in which I skimmed the price even more by bluffing I knew everything about tailoring, took 15 minutes but resulted in the 'everyone happy phase'. Hands were shaken and I got invited in the ateliers at the back where I met the guys who were going to work for me the coming day.

Fun at the tailer!

But the adventure is not over yet! Tomorrow I will head off to Shimla, via the railway route "British Jewel of the Orient" from Kalka to Shimla, with more than 806 bridges and 103 tunnels. I actually made a great decision, a few months back! :) 

A time-warp to Myanmar

pictures coming soon!

Around one year ago in Nicaragua and just five minutes after I walked into the very first hotel of the trip, I bumped into Chantal. As we were both happy-styled solo trekkers, we quickly became a travel team for a while. Now, a year later, we travel together again on the other side of the globe, in Myanmar.

Isolated by a tourism boycott against its questionable political system, former Burma only became 'Myanmar' in 2011 and raving reviews from fellow travelers made me eager to visit this wonderful country. 

Myanmar's beauty lies in its people and architecture. It all started when I arrived in the former capital, Yangon, where I was surprised by the appearance of the women smiling at me, smothered in yellow thanaka make-up-sunscreen. 

Before meeting Chantal, I stumbled through small alleys in the dark without feeling uneasy - even when encountering those guys with their mouths full of blood-red juice. "It's all tradition!", I reassured myself...

After chatting and catching up with my new buddy over some 'cold' Mandalay-beers, we headed into the country.

First stop Bagan was a winner right away. For me and many others a potential world wonder (where are you, UNESCO? - inside; I actually met the man responsible for UNESCO for the whole of Asia!), Bagan and its surrounding plain is scattered with more than 4000 temples and stupas. Many of those conceal colorful murals and well-hidden stairways that lead to high platforms. 

At sunrise, we found ourselves in a surreal setting while we climbed a random stupa, offering us a panorama that I will certainly never ever forget. 

Second stop, Inle Lake, kept the magic going. A tour on the lake via floating villages, all of them specialized in impressive crafts, from pottery baking to weaving. For the first time I could ask the stupid question "does it hurt?" when talking to a long-neck lady. Next day, we left on a unique 3-day trek - totally off the beaten path via villages that never saw foreign visitors before. 

More up north, we became more adventurers than tourists, as buses are almost non-existing and the other option - trains - bounce slow-paced through the planes for looooooong days. Tourists became scarce and we sometimes felt like discoverers as we walked waving and smiling through villages, while people were staring at us as we ate, walked or even slept. Chantal can even mobilize whole families when she's taking pictures! Traveling here is truly unique.

But is time-warped Myanmar ready to fulfill what tourists expect it to be(come)? As we stumbled through the country, we saw that the 'tourist highlights' were suffering: it was no exception that all the hotels were full, that we had to wait an hour or two for our dish or that it never showed up. English is quasi non-existing, travel safety and health are quite questionable. There are still some areas where tourists cannot come, and new fights were signaled in certain areas.

And even if you just take a boat (two days, sleeping on the floor, dirty, etc.) down the river, you'll get reminded of its military regime - we saw a 18-yr old military giving an old man a few kicks in the face and the latter getting arrested. 

But Myanmar is Myanmar - things are changing now. And a few minutes later, a young girl gave us bracelets and I got invited by some men to play cards on the upper-deck. As the sun continues to heat up the sky, I wonder how things will go for Myanmar. I can only hope for the best. I can only hope that Obama's visit and speech today in Yangon - I actually saw him passing by in his car after waiting way too many hours - will speed up the democracy process. Go Myanmar! You're worth it.

How being a Hindu made me rich

I am sitting on a terrace, spoiled with a panoramic view that would take a book to describe - but I'll give it a try. Just in front of me, two Nepali men are fixing up some water boiler on the only roof that somehow interrupts the 180 degree view on a blue lake that reflects some Himalaya mountains behind it. On the left, a dozen of kids is playing with the new swing they got installed, apparently a nation-wide custom to celebrate the upcoming Dashain festival.
I inhale.
I exhale.
This is true rest. The two past weeks consisted mainly of getting up early, eating, walking, eating, sleeping.

Graham, Godspeed I found. I found it in Fleur, a slightly over-disciplined Dutch woman who walked so fast that I even had to let her go at the end of the 14 days we needed to get around the Annapurna's (!).
The Himalayas brought me the longest and most strenuous adventure so far.

Godspeed Fleur in action

A cock nearby screams as it would like to have some attention. It works - I look around; the sun is getting lower, like she would like to dip in the lake, and the temperature follows her slavishly. The host-lady of the guesthouse brings me my tea. She drops a tear, her husband had an accident while he was motorbiking to get the goat for Dashain (he was alright, btw, thanks for asking).
When she leaves, I remember some emotions I witnessed in Nepal; men chanting while carrying a deceased person on their shoulder - woman behind, crying. The old man, founder of the agricultural projects in the Mustang valley, who, after he gave me a tour through his house, apples, tea, walnuts included, got angry with other oldies after we gave him some small donation.

Next day, I wake up early. The lake is still cloudy and while still drawing butterflies with the kid downstairs, the parents invite me to join them for a ceremony to inaugurate the construction site of their next house. A Hindu astrologer and a young boy dig a hole, some offers are precisely thrown in while one of the men sings and a few moments later, I find myself with a tika blessing on my forehead... and ten rupies (10 eurocent) in my pocket. Looks like being a Hindu could make me rich!

Inauguration - everybody happy!

And so the story continues. Next day I had a delicious goat-dinner with the family. The goat eventually got home and I witnessed how the men slaughtered the goat by slashing off its head in one move. And that's even nothing compared to the action I saw performed today on a big yak...

Anyways, although Nepal is a country where spaghetti tastes like noodles and vice versa, the nature, the people and the adventure itself getting through it all made it once again an unforgettable part of my life.

Is that a ... cow on the road?

Again, we had heard a lot of different opinions about Hong Kong, but it ended up being one of our favorite cities so far. During the days we were there, the huge streets were mostly devoid of passenger cars. Instead there were lots of double-decker buses AND double-decker trams. Below, there was an efficient and cheap subway system, with the longest underground trains we have ever seen. (Of course, the traffic experts among us were excited.)

HK traffic in action

There was plenty to see and do in Hong Kong as well; from the astonishing skyline, to an impressive 'dragon fire dance' as well as a beautiful 'lantern festival'. But we knew what we had to do: blend in and experience the famous nightlife. One night, we met Paula, Eva and Erica, funny ex-pats who took us to the cool places and proved that, unlike some other countries in Asia, the party does not stop at 11PM.

 
HK's surroundings are also quite diverse with giant buddha's on hilltops, desolate temples, the longest suspended bridge in the world and even beaches. To reach these places, one day we took a pleasant yet speedy ferry through Victoria Harbour. On board, Dimitri and I had a (slightly odd) conversation about what we would do in the event the boat would start sinking. We were perplexed only a few days later to find out that a very similar ferry had found itself in a disastrous and shocking crash with 36 fatalities. Surely made us think.

Next stop was Nepal. Our first days in Kathmandu felt chaotic and unreal. We hurried from one "administrative building" to the next to settle our hiking permits as well as some of Dimitri's visa's. Walking through the streets of Kathmandu we encountered amazing temples in alleys and squares, but the streets themselves were not quite as inspiring. Large crowds, strangely placed shop stands, swirling motor bikes, cars, buses and even cows in narrow roads! The pedestrian is evidently not the king of the road, and due to the large mass of people, a lot of drivers never lift their hand from the horn. After dusk, the experience is even more surreal if you find yourself in heavy traffic during one of the frequent power outages, literally bumping into strangers in the dark...

The true meaning of life

It was all surprisingly stressful so we were glad when we escaped the city to commence our treks. The mountains of Nepal offer strenuous walks but with sheer amazing views along the way. It was at times a spiritual experience and one of the extremely friendly inhabitants of the region offered me the true meaning of life.

And that was also where Dimitri and I parted after about 11 fantastic months of travel. He will carry on the legend of the journey on his own, (but I hasten to add that my trip isn't quite over yet either). At the time of writing, Dimitri is tackling a treacherous 5000m+ mountain pass at the other side of Mount Annapurna. No need to worry, I have already received word of his safety, but I think I speak for us all when I say:

GOOD LUCK AND GODSPEED TO YOU DIMITRI!