Mathu's Travel Journal

Staying high in Tibetan towns outside Tibet.

2011-11-28T17:27:00.000+01:00

68 The old woman of town with their prayer wheels. Chatting and getting through the day.

69 Other nomad who are moving things with their yaks.

70 Hitching again. People dropped me off at this way too expensive hotel because it had gotten dark. After they left I walked away but the girl ran after me and offered her bed. Here we are chatting in the living room-tent.

71 The town of Yushu has been hit with a massive earthquake. It's devastating to see how far they are in four years time. The town is still one big rebuilding mess where people live on top of their old scattered houses.

72 Nearby you find Princess Wencheng Temple where there are so many prayer flags decorating the surrounding hills it makes your yaw hit your chest. A monk being content with visitors.

73 For sun, sand and a huge sun blister on my lip I wore this mask, like EVERY woman here.

74 Millions of flags with a kora.

75 like a spiders web...

76 The monks at the monastery were very interesting in my Lonely Planet and photo's from home. I ate and slept there too.

77 Also close to yushu you have an incredible big main wall. Here a woman makes stones to throw onto the big hill.

78 One of the old woman who walk more then one round on the kora.

79 This stop is for anyone who need some tea and rest from walking around. It was mostly old woman who made a break here.

80 Beautiful decorated hair. Turquoise and coral red.

81 People walking the kora their prayer beads flowing through their fingers.

82 Then I stumbled upon a huge holy event, To Bless the People, somebody told me later. The town of Serxu Daong became my home for a few days. Here a woman shows the Amber stones in her hair.

83 Thousands of monks filled the monastery......

84 ...... and flowed out after all the hums. A very special sight.

85 Monks making clay decorations for some days later.

86 Hot water you can find EVERYWHERE in China. So also at the 'camping' where I had pitched my tent between all the others. Huge barrels were heated with an ever burning fire and the line with kettles and thermoses almost never vanished.

87 The lighted tents by night.

88 The woman look so beautiful and lady-like with their flat hats.

89 Milk and tea is given to the praying monks. In the background you see huge kettles with milk tea and a special food.

90 Two monks serving a porridge which (you may choose) looks like Christmas pudding with dates, or puke.

91 Three Tibetan girls sitting pretty.

92 After I had eaten them I peeked into the kitchen of this Baozi-tent. Not much later I was helping them, folding Baozi for a few hours.

93 Red red red and one yellow.

94 The black nomad tents are made from yak hair.

95 A perfect golden statue of........

96 In Dzogchen the same event was going on. The temple filled with blue, red and yellow decorated heads.

97 View from the temples and glacier of Dzogchen. Nice location no?

98 Hitching through autumn gorges. I spirits became even more happy. I love this vibrant season.

99 Baozi, tea and spicy dipping sauce: Breakfast.

100 The temple in Dege had many pillows and rice/flower bags for all townspeople to sit on.

101 The Yellow Hat monks humming and praying while they make all Boesha's hand moves.

102 Playing the shell horn and (I don't know how you call those).

103 In this area, back to forests instead of highlands, the houses are made from logs painted red. And to feet their cattle in winter they dry hay and plants on high racks.

104 Flower and butter, kneading. Poor tea and let it sink in while sipping a little bit. Kneading, kneading until you have this ball. Eating and drinking tea because it's VERY dry. You do everything with your hands. and they eat this all day.

105 Painting their new house.

106 Kids looking for little roots to spice-up the food.

107 Inside one of those log houses. What colours no? The families are not so big, but everybody lives in three rooms.

108 pretty bird who sings very nice.

109 Higher hills with autumn colors.

110 The deep decorated old houses in Baiyu, a very nice town far off the main road.

111 How to make a house. Black earth is stamped with big, heavy wooden poles until it forms a wall. I tried too, but it's really heavy.

And now I'm in Chengdu waiting for Siebe who will arrive in 9 hours (yes I'm counting). It will be different, meeting people, hitch hiking, sleeping in a small tent, sharing dinners and opinions. Sometimes I will wish that I was back on my own again, old habit are hard to undo, but mostly I love him to be here and share with me this crazy strange world of China. It's pretty lonely to travel here sometimes. Also Nature will change dramatically in the next tow months. But, as there is no way to get to Blogger, you will read the rest in a long time.

Mt Amnye Machen Hike.

2011-11-28T16:54:00.000+01:00

46 A seven day hike around a holy mountain sounds just like something for me. The mountain was 6282m high, the hike not below 4000m. Here you see Guri Monastery and the sublime white crown with Amnye Machen as highest point.

47 So many red flags above the Gompa (monastery).

48 Well worn and thrown away body protectors from the real pilgrims.

49 It's hard not to make photo's of prayer flags.

50 Prayer flags with a waving monk.

51 Nomads, living in tents and herding sheep, goats or yaks, invited me for yak milk tea and fried bread.

52 Mother and daughter watching the little movie her son had made with his phone, aren't they pretty?

53 The inside of their tent.

54 At one of the passes where a glacier almost likes the road. As if I'm in Tibet no?

55 Three temple painter of a town further along gave me a ride until I wanted to hike again.

56 The real pilgrims, who, ever TWO steps go down on the ground and lay facedown to worship. It will take them three weeks to circumambulator Amnye Machen.

57 Biiiiig prayer wheels.

58 Tiktiktiktiktik go their hammers. They inscribe stone slabs with Tibetan prayers. People will buy them and build Mani walls with them.

59 I met the temple painters again and HAD to stay for dinner and sleep in their work tent. Here were are 'pulling/flicking' pasta in the pot.

60 Colourful me between the prayer flags.

61 A Robin Hood of the Chinese hills.

62 A hail/snow storm came over on day three. It was hard (and cold) to find the way.

63 So I stopped at 4pm and put my tent under those flags and behind this main wall. The next morning I woke up to this....

64 Looking back to the prayer flags across the snowfields and being surrounded by high mountains.

65 When I put my tent in the afternoon.......

66 .... and when I woke up the next day.

67 This guy had an extra bed. So before and after the hike I stayed in his very new house, kids running in and out.

Hopping through towns without getting the feeling.

2011-11-28T16:43:00.000+01:00

1 In the small town of Qikou I found my first tranquil and true Chinese life without the hordes of tourists. Arriving at night, in pooring rain, I was lucky that this last man in the bus owned a family home with rooms for rent who took me along.

Next day I made a wet and very pleasant walk to Lijiashan. No cars can get to this cave houses town nestled in the lush hills. The surroundings were misty-mystical.

All hill were prepared like those, with cave houses in their sides.

4 Then, back at the courtyard of my home stay, I met this family who was travelling themselves. Invited for dinner and later to come along in their car. They were going the same way.

5 Driving along the brown Yellow River we took a little boat to see 'special' rock formations. Up until today I have no idea WHY they were so special.

6 Also we visited a big, rough waterfall. Not the waterfall, but this man with his tourist donkey got my interest.

7 They dropped me in the very well preserved traditional cobblestone town of Dangjiacun. I got really inspired to start a garden here, and the six-storey pagoda in the middle of all those courtyard houses was really pretty.

8 Detail of wood carvings which are presented in front of all windows.

9 On I went by train to the city of Xi'an, world famous for it's army of Terracotta Warrior. It's a massive archaeological find and sadly most soldiers have scattered.

10 So now many people are working on fixing them so once again this army of thousands can stand guard over the soul of China's first unifier, which it has done for two millennia now.

11 another train to Luomen where I fell pray to this girl who desperately wanted to practise her English and share her kank-bed with me. Here they are watching my photo’s.

12 With dad I learned how to fold nice dumplings.

13 Next day we visited the Water Curtain Caves for which I came here. Pretty temples and carvings in the cliffs with a colourful 31m-high painting of Sakyamuni as the main sight.

14 In the smoke filled temple you could shake a box with wooden stick until one fell out. This one will tell your something. Mine said that I was a very lucky person..... duh.

15 A man grinding red peppers at the market.

16 The babies and little kids have no diapers and open pans so they can pee any time. This means all Chinese have walked in their bare butts on the street in their lives.

17 In the next bus a teacher helped me with getting into the next direction, which was hers. Because night fell she offered I could sleep with her and other teachers in the bunk beds at campus. It was very funny with the bloodiest toilets I've seen so far.

18 And then I got my first feel of Tibetan life in the pretty pilgrimage town of Xiahe.

19 Around the holy Labrang Monastery a 3km Kora (pilgrims path) leads you around 1174 prayer wheels which you all have to spin.

20 Of course I went as well in the still dark morning and in one of the little chapels I stumbled over a small old woman who had to chuckle herself too about it all. I could just pretend her from falling to the ground, oops !

21 Pilgrims walking the kora, spinning their private prayer wheels beside the ones along the path.

22 One of the monks calling the other to enter the temple.

23 I saw many ceremonies. Humming, chanting, ringing bells under colourful scarf’s and decorations.

24 Youning sounded like another far-flung cave temple /monastery where I finally could camp. Prayer flags were scattered across the hills.

25 Mandela’s drawings made from collared sand by monks.

26 camping under those nice green trees who soon will become yellow.

27 Back to a big city, Xining. My hostel at the top floor of this huge flat gave a view to this sports field with a great variety of activities. The first time I LOVED my binoculars.

28 Street vendor selling meats and veggies on a stick. You pick and he will BBQ them for you.

29 Mati Si, temples build into the sandstone cliffs with twisting staircases and balconies. Indeed impressive how they did this between the 5th and 14th centuries.

30 A few hours hike along pretty autumn colours brought me to a waterfall and a nice camping spot.

31 On my way to the Jiayuguan Fort which turned out to be too expensive I met those three guys who took me in for free. Inside one of the temples one of them made a offering.

32 Hello funny boys, they thought I was really funny with all my ways of trying to make things clear to them.

33. My dad skiped a nude picture, me running in somewhere.

34 My last train for a while, through the deserts to the town of Dunhuang.

35 Here you have big sand dunes for which (again) you have to pay. So I found the end of the gate and had a dune all to myself with sunset.

36 Yuan worked at the hostel I stayed, she spoke English, was different and really fun. A girl with good intuition and a different attitude then most Chinese. I loved her. Here we are buying shoes for me.

37 Desert nuts. I've never seen them before, but they were really jummie.

38 A guy was snoring really loud in the dorm house, so I moved to the hammocks, did they ever sleep good!

39 And from then on it became hitch hiking time. As you can see there was nothing much besides the road, so this was easy.

40 One night my driver brought me to this house where I was welcome, fed and slept on a groovy bed. I liked the roof, hand made.

41 So I got to Golmud, I town from where you can take the train to Tibet. Hotels were really expensive, so I slept somewhere in the street. Even though my parents offered to pay my visit to Tibet, it took too long to wait for a permit.

42 Have you ever seen a rainbow like this?

43 So I hitch on to another big snowy mountain who is also holy to the Tibetans.

44 Prayer flags are sold like this.......

45 ...and used like this.

Two feet into China an it's famous Wall

2011-09-01T08:36:00.000+02:00

Welcome to rainbow land, land of the plastic-fantastic, the toys and nonsense crap. Don't worry, tradition, history and ancient flavour still thrive on the upper hand:

I had met Kathy in Mongolia. She had lived in Beijing for a year, teaching English and studying Chinese, so I emailed here to ask if she new a place to stay there. It turned she ha gone back too to apply for an Indian visa and to see her boyfriend.This wicked red-haired girl made my first introduction to this weird country a lot easier. Teaching me some words, taking me to streetrestautant to order incredible flavoured dishes, so mouthwatering after Mongolia and lending me a bike to cycle through the Hutongs (alleyways). Not to forget that drinking a beer on top of a skyscraper roof nightclub at four in the morning is just nicer with friends. She's one of those people I coul talk to for hours, afterwards not really knowing what we all talked about, but feeling much richer.

So cycling through Beijing, taking your life in your hands with the stuff that comes into your direction, against traffic AND wanting to pass on the right-hand side, blown away by huge bellows of smog from buses, being startled by scooter-bikes who suddenly pass you without making any sounds being electric. For it's size, density in population and traffic, Beijing is a very silent city because of all the electric mobiles, it makes you wonder why it's still so polluted. Mm, lets not forget the coalburning and cigarette smoke.
The hutongs are a great pleasure, peeping into lives, courtyards, flowering walls, old wooden doorways, stone pillars, people sit, talk, play cards or majiang, smoking or eating.

Very famous, daily fresh, always cool, everywhere to get and suitable any time of the day: Beijing yoghurt.

The forbidden city by night. After seeing the whole of China, you do get a bit tired of its typical ancient buildings and paintings, something which is why you go to this pleasurdome for the emperors of the Ming and Qing dynasties. Not wanting to have this happen in the first week, I decided to skip it realizing later that it's more the air, the massiveness and the exclusiveness for 500years which makes it stand apart from any other place. Next time.

All parks were in bloom with lilies, so photogenic.

I did visit the Imperial Palace with it's massive lake, tiptop groomed gardens, elaborate temples and palace itself.

A real pleasant day strolling around the grounds among thousands of Chinese tourists and a handful of foreigners.

A popular street to eat for Chinese themselves is this red lantern alley. In the old day this would be the only street in Beijing where you could eat after 11pm. The government forbid latenight having-fun, but didn't touch this area.

Five days of Beijing got me excited to venture out. And to make sure I first went to the Big Wall.

There are many places to get on, I choose a less crowded entrance and decided on the spot to just to it, pack some water, noodles and a bag of prunes and go walk to a next restored section. It would be three days the lady told me.

It's not nice and redone for just a few km spots here and there. When you venture further it becomes fragile, broken down, detached, overgrown, ruined and eventually it disappears. I didn't walk the whole way, not having enough water, loosing sight of the wall and encountering lots of mist. It was just a small path through the brushes and I was not here to do that.

At another part I climbed back on. Even more steep, with worse deteriorated steps, climbing, struggling into the air, sweat poring down. Truly magnificent.

I slept in one of the highest towers, mist blowing through the windows, light and thunder at night, strange animals crawling on the wall. A bit spooky, but all the more fascinating.

Next stop, a little town called Chuandixia. So nicely captured in time many movies are made here and many Chinese want to see it for that. Why can't we enjoy the beauty of a place when hundreds of others are doing the same at the same time? It must be the peace and quiet.

The precise fitting shingles, roofs, courtyards and hutongs.

At the top of this viewpoint four students from Beijing took my photo and chatted away in English. A very nice night rolled out of that. Eric, Shuang, Cat and Coco invited me to stay in an extra bed in their courtyard hotel room, we went for dinner and drank beer while playing cards at night. This is what I missed in the last days, all to blame on the language barrier, so it was extremely nice to encounter. Thanx guys, you mae my stay in this pretty town.

Hop, on my first train, everybody gets noodles (there is hot water in every wagon) and other snacks. I woul get some stuff too, but certainly not this vacuumed packed chickenfeet.

The Yungang Caves near Datong. Not really any idea what to expect, caves with statues, it was surprisingly shocking to see the hugeness of those Buddha's. And there were so many, in all sizes, sculpted from the wall and covered by clay and colour. Very impressive. Do you see me standing at it's feet?

Made in 500AD, 252 caves, 15000 statues, in 60 years time.

Like he's wearing a glowing crown.

A foot massage and cleansing? 40 minutes for 20 yuan? Hell yeah! Soaking, a backrub, callousnesses that get scraped off and a feetrub. Delicious.

Very normal. You walk outside, pull your pants down and pee.

Or to put your dog between the peaches.

My trainmates to Pingyao. All man going to work in Xi'an I think. They were very nice and curious. It funny to see how everybody tries to sleep in all awkward positions.

So this is the view of the courtyard when I get down from my dormitory. Pingyao is a very well kept walled town, being inside the walls you forget there is a whole new city on the outside. Shamefully here too it's very touristic with backpackers and loud Chinese groups. I wonder when I find this quiet little town where nothing else happens then milking cows and farming the land. Especially because you are so stuck to your guidebook, not able to speak and ask much who is not giving me what I'm looking for. And trains don't stop easy if you do see it flash by your window.

I love how they carve clouds. The small picture.......

.......and the big picture. Pingyao has gorgeous gorgeous inner yards and elaborate hotels and buildings. I love discovering them.

So I leave you with this bowl of noodles, white stuff, pepper, soysause and oil and I promise to keep making those photo's.

The other side of Mongolian Green Hills

2011-08-10T09:02:00.000+02:00

Turned my back to the computer, put my feet back in the grass and my thumb in the air. Bolormaa peeped her head above the fence (the fences are mostly to prevent robbery in towns) and her mum followed curiously. How fun, she had learned English from two doctors who stay in a ger at their property! Time to ask many things and give rats ass to the road. No cars were passing by and I aimed for a stay inside Bolermaa's fence. Still there is this strange distance between you and the Mongolians, but I guess it's just the way it is. I have not seen parents kiss their children after the age of ten, no warm hugs between couples and no kisses when friends would meet each other. Often not even a handshake, or a really odd one between woman. That's why it really surprises me that dads take a huge roll in raising their babies. They LOVE to hold them, tickle their weenies, make cute faces, learn them to holdon on their motors, put them on horses and change their diapers.

Bolermaa's mum and brother told me I had to hitch another way, South instead of North, only here I could pass the river with a bridge, over in the North it would be questionable. So we rolled on with the family on this photo. Ten strong: kids, one baby and lots of smoked fish from their Khoveskhol lake. It was time to do a jeep race...... I could not help giggling when we would fly through the air with the serious bumps to which I only spurred him on more. really not funny, this became a little to crazy.

Good for me most cars I hitch with are tourists in their own country too, making photo's and giving offerings to the ovoo's along the way.

Without a doubt, the craziest bridge in work I've EVER seen, look at the bents and dents!!!!!!!!! It squeaked when you walked across, I would have been a little scared to have driven the car across.

The photo's is too small, but this is a perfect example of how roads appear from a village and all go their own way, I had to walk 5km to find a spot where they would meet.

It took a looooong time before cars passed by, three hours or more I waited. A couple had taken me along for a few km on their motor bike, and then this man and a very old grandma passed and waved me along. Me on the back of the bike, grandma squeezed in between. Of course I had to visit their family living in four gers. When we arrived they all came to one and I was fed nice milktea and fried dough. This I really like. My photo album from home was a big hit and after a while I had to come outside and.....

Help milk the goats! Great! They all had gathered near the gers and were strung together by their horns, heads to the ground, in a circle, so all asses and udders were pointing outside. Look at this one! Only four years old and milking like there was no tomorrow, slapping the udder for more milk and filling that bucket just as quick.

No, then me, going slow, having shit in my milk and an angry goat at my hand. I did get some milk no problem, but as fast as those girls, not in a million years. Just today I send a letter with the photo's I made to this family, I hope it gets there.

The funny guy on his motorbike helped me tremendously, it turned out I had taken a back road instead of the main route. So he drove me 25km onwards to the crossing, otherwise I could have been stuck another day in this wonderful experience. With the sunset I hopped into a truck to dribble further along the washboard roads.

Another day a little van picked me up and broke down (happens often, just like flat tires) I didn't really like those man and the little boy that not wanted to play Frisbee in the two hours we were waiting for the daddies to fix the car.

So when they stopped somewhere to have a look if the fixed thing stayed in place I peeped out. It was getting late anyway and the family at this lonesome house were happy to see me. Like many times they plant their butt between the sheep and goat droppings and watch everything I do with ohh's and ahh's. Like I have a big magic bag. Until I say 'tatadadaaa!' at the end and it's time for milktea to soak my noodles (why not) in their brand new house and explaining how and what with the words I know by now. Strange, I never get sick of that, I've seen those photo's hundreds of times, I know the words to explain them in several languages and still it never bores.

A dark photo, but we were in a dark place. I finally got to Uliastai, an unknown place for tourists, but good for horse trekking I read in the LP. I had to ask for Tuya at the big restaurant in town according to the book. So I did. Four hours later I had to return and we would talk to a horseman, but instead she showed up with a friend and we went to a disco. Wow, did we dance to the poppie-disco-beats, from beginning till end, which was when the police stood at the door at 23:15. Turns there is no partying after eleven in the countryside. It felt just like at home in my squatting place where the police disturbed every party after 23:00 as well, hahaha. Tuyas friend turned out to be the owner of this disco (nono, I still had to pay) but she also owned a brand new fancy hotel. She liked my moves, was very nice and offered me a room (without shower, bummer) so I would not have to put my tent at 1am. Relaxed.

And here we are. Mathu and her horse. Tuya drove me out of town, we talked with the horseman the next evening (it was a long day of unpredictable waiting) and he would bring me this horse in the morning. Just right there, 10km out of Uliastai, in the direction of Otgon Mt it turned that Tuya had a sister with a new build house for rich office people to have meetings and to sleep. No joke, this was really too much. I got offered to sleep in a bed, leave my stuff here and borrow horse necessities. Miraculously we had driven by a house in town to pick up a saddle and bristle, no asking, no questions, everything was just there. And nobody talked about a guide, something I liked best.

So there I went, three days I drove my tame gelding, my brave not-to-be-disturbed-by-anything horse. Through boring open plains, along a fresh river, over peeks, sagging through the swamps, being lead by me over big stones and through dense bushes when I lost the way, galloping down hills, trodding through high grasses and wandering among trees. First nights camp, six hours of riding. An iron pin and long rope were to graze my strong little four-feeter. A nice little island in the river, some wood, thousands of stars and no thieves who stole my horse, so good.

Next day along lakes, meeting and greeting other rides who stare at you: 'Alone?'

This is the big lake and in the distance the 4000m Otgon Mt for which this park is famous. A secret mountain to the Mongolians, you are not allowed to climb it, so we only took some photo's of it's snow. Two packs hang from the back, one with camping gear, the other with food.

Dayan Mt, from wich we saw Otgon, was/is a big pilgrimage site in this country. This huge rock is hung with the popular blue silk scarfs....

.....given many offerings of food, water and alcohol and walked around three times for good luck, health and prosperity.

A little hole in a flat rock made for an amusing time, fat ladies tried to squeeze through it to be 'born again'. Well, I cried like a baby when I popped through, but no big differences.

It was a hard struggle to get back to the river, taking an adventures route through swamps and bush covered mountain hills, but we did it. I'm so proud of my perseverance, my strong will and my anticipation of wanting to see what's behind the next hill or corner. This horse followed me, I loved it.

Second camp in the morning after building a fire for tea and writing my thoughts.

Mongolians are born in the saddle, he's watching how his dad tries to stay on a bucking and crazy horse who has not been ridden in a long time and became half wild.

In side their beautiful ger.

Being offered more milktea and fried bread with the softest cream, mmmm

Golden grasses stole my breath while dancing in the wind.

I had to get back. To my shocked surprise I had to enter China BEFORE the tenth of August. It was the eights and I still had a 26hour drive and 15hour train ride before I would hit that boarder town, freak! Like flying Elee's I hurried my ass back on the road. Hitching hard and waiting very impatiently all of a sudden.

Back to the capital of Ulaanbaatar. Another peek into the countryside first. Dad was put off at this water drilling spot, to supply the people and animals of needed fluids in this valley. The ger was dirty, with five guys and no cleaning.

A very different sight then most homes I had seen so far. No coziness.

Pasta soup with fat mutton was made before grandpa and the two kids brought me further.

Back in Tosontsengel, I had been here before. I kept asking even though it was late at night, but I got lucky with a minivan who squeezed me in, the eight year old girl had to go on my lap. The only drive I payed, to get back as quick as possible, well... quick. We had only one driver, so he did the twenty hours we still had to do in about twenty eight, he must have had dry eyes. For me it's a long ride too, I arrived this night at 1am, helped out some guys at the hostel, had a really nice hot shower, slept three quarters of an hour and got up to arrange a train ticket. With guys on the streets who dangle their wieners from their trousers and drunks yelling I was not too happy to be back in this ugly city. I got my ticket, I leave tonight at eight, enough time left to arrange some things like change money, wash clothes and write this part. Mongolia, proud, harsh, self sufficient-wanna-be, tough and holding on. I've seen it here for now. I'm very happy I know what to find here, I have to go to the far West or the Gobi desert if I want to see something else then green hills next time. I was getting bored with the scenery, I was getting used to the food. I'm happy to meet curious Chinese people, I will miss the space and lonesomeness. This country is endless, in commitment to itself and to the eye, I will enjoy the variety by now.

Mongolian Green Hills

2011-07-30T09:16:00.000+02:00

And there it was, the land of new adventures, the land of coldness, the land of horses, the land of fat, the land of green hills........ MONGOLIA


A country with a population of 2.600.000, almost all literate, 35% living under the poverty line and to every person there are 14 horses.

The Mongolian lady beside me in the plane got picked up by her kids and brother and waved me along in their car. So at 7am I got dropped at the biggest temple in Mongolia, in the heart of Ulaanbaatar, it's capital. Sitting here, writing my first impressions, a girl walked up and insisted we should meet again tonight so she could drive me around town.

So here were are in the evening. My stuff put away in a guesthouse, money extracted, gas for cooking bought. Driven to a nice lookout by Oenroo. Later we picked up a friend of hers and had a beer and cigarette (in Mongolia the cigarettes are very thin) in an expensive hotel with view.

Next day, strolling around, eating a skewer with good meat and disgusting sheep tail fat pieces on the street, I paid a visit to the Choijin Lama Temple Museum. For a first time visitor to Asia it was really nice. The temples smelled dusty and herby and were extremely colorful. Every day at 5pm they have a little performance with traditional instruments, throat singing, contortion (snakegirl), mask dancing, a shaman dance and folk dancing. Super private for just the ten of us.

Underway, out of Ulaanbaatar. To get out of the city I took a bus. The seat beside me was crawling with three kids who were tamed with pushing pistachio shells on your fingertips and ticking against anything for sound. Before I went on I had a good plate of everywhere-to-get noodles.

Whiehoo, after two long hitches I made it in record time to this valley with the Amarbayasgalant Khiid (monastery) and last resting place of the great sculptor Zanabazar (for who knows him). Gers were dotting the plains, grass grew till the tops of the mountains, the sky was blue with hazy clouds, men herded their sheep, goat, horses, cows and yaks and the smell of strong herbs and dung filled my nose. This is where I put my tent. Just when darkness fell a guy came up to my tent, he had visited me before with a small kid. This time he came alone and it was clear he was interested in more then just my Lonely Planet. He sneaked closer and closer and made hugging gestures. A bit disappointed that I had to deal with this on my first night in Mongolia I pushed him a little out of the way. He was almost sitting IN my tent now. A nice view, but I did not sleep very tight....

Between all the shit and flowers you would find tiny wild strawberries.

Around 10am, the little kids in the monastery blew their shell horns to announce school/ceremony was started.

And then the humming starts, many prayers are mumbled by little and small monks and old sanscrites wrapped in sun bleached cloths are undone and 'aired'-through to let the prayers fly I guess.

A brand new stupa. Luckily the lights weren't working yet, it would have ruined the view of the dark sky.

Going for a walk. Here an Ovoo, a shamanistic collection of stones, wood or other offerings to the gods, usually found in high places. In Mongolia they are almost always hung with blue silk scarfs, representing their endless blue skies.

From top to top along the bridges I picked flowers and got deaf with all the crickets who jumped around my ears. Once again I felt free, into my element and full with power. This is what I love.

A lonesome rider on the plain.

After two nights at the monastery I hiked and hitched further to the town of Bulgan. Another hill supported my tent and as always an Ovoo. This time a boy came and visited me. He brought his binoculars too and together we watched the birds and city below us.

A very typical valley. Greenness dotted with white gers, the traditional houses of the nomadic Mongolian. A wooden frame, 5m in diameter, and canvas (before hide) is used. At the top there is a circular opening for air and the wood stove pipe which is to be closed by a cloth. If it's really warm, like these days in July and August, they roll-up the bottoms so air can blow through.

On to my next ride, walking down the hill, this family waved me closer and fed me airag (fermented mare milk). It's very typical here, most people who are not used to it don't like it. It's very very sour, like karnemelk/buttermilk but then more fermented. If you drink little bits it's not to bad. Maybe I should carry a bottle of sirup, that would make it lots better. And then there was a bowl of tsai as well, their way of tea......not with sugar but with salt. I was happy I already knew what to expect before I got here.

Next on was this family. The paved road ended and the regular dirt road started. This is more the norm in Mongolia. It's pretty hard to hitch hike as well. Not just one road disappears behind the hill, there are at least five or six tracks to take, whichever one is best and least muddy. We picnicked just somewhere and the kids and I swam in the muddy river. It was too far to Moron, so we slept in a Ger camp (business ger, made for tourists like a hotel) and arrived the next day just in time for.....

Ah yes, some camels along the way, you see them too like wild cattle, very funny.

....... Just in time for the Naadam!!! This traditional festival with archery, horse racing and wrestling is always on the 11th of July, just before i came. i was a little bummed I missed it, but here in Moron, because this province exists 90 years, it was held extra big and a week later. And we arrived just in time for the opening ceremony with famous singers, a speech, dancers, traditional reindeer people from the north, a big show with kids and a long parade with old players. After that the wrestling started. As soon as one of the participants touches the ground with hands or knees he's out. There is no ring, they can go anywhere, just like in the rest of Mongolia. That's really tru, you feel really free here, you can walk, camp and pee anywhere you like.

A mountain of goat or sheep fat.

A plate of well done sheep or goat meat with fat. EVERYTHING tastes like goat or sheep. The milk, the bread, the tea, the yoghurt, the people (they smell like it). And in my opinion it's not such a nice aftertaste. The plate on the picture is really nice, this is not the norm. There was very little fat with the meat and so we ordered another plate to be really full for once. A plate like this costs 2600Togrog/1,50Euro.

From Moron I took a lift to the famous Khovsgol Nuur (lake). This is a place where almost all tourists go to track on horse or by foot. I thought about a horse as well, but getting your own is very hard. They all get stolen at night so nobody lends you their horses. So I went hiking.

The lake is 136km long and one of the biggest freshwater reserves in the world. Mongolians have no taps in their houses, they get their water from little water-houses all over town and they have to pay a small amount for it. As a traveler this is very unhandy, you can't just walk into a restaurant or home and ask if they can fill your bottle. Buying new bottles is very much against my principals and finding this water-house is not always that easy. So hiking along the lake was very nice. As much drinkable water as I would like. I had packed food for six days and had no further plans when I started to walk up the road along the more remote Eastern shore when a handsome Russian family picked me up and drove me along this very bad road to a halfway point, four hours and 100km out. Just in time for a swim before a big thunderstorm came.

So many flowers in July in Mongolia

The panoramic photo's are very nice, but very small on this site. This is the view from my tent that first night.

Fields of flowers.

A butterfly dries her wings in the morning sun in front of my tent.

Crossing a 15km valley on the second day, many many flies, a nice sun (which burned my nose a little) and boring endlessness.

On that tiny peninsula with the few trees I camped the third night. It had a bright green grassy hill with lovely flowers, a white-stone beach, no flies or mosquitos, a gorgeous sunset and all the water in the world. Where was my boyfriend..... The last part I hitched a ride with a petrol truck, it was raining and would be very boring to walk, more grassy plains.

Half a day of rest, after the drizzle came the sun and so I took off again the next morning up the West shore. This side has mountains and I wanted to climb one for a nice view of the whole lake. Doesn't it look like I'm on a tropical palm beach?

Straight through the forests, the pinetrees are wide enough apart to just make your own way. It's very easy to hike in Mongolia.

Those four dogs followed me 12 hours that day, they came all the way to the highest top, slept when I rested, were happy to see water when we went down again and then started to guard my tent at night!

View from a 2500m top.

Down at the lake. We made it. The dogs and I hiked a loooong way and we slept like roses on this pretty peninsula. We had been so lucky with the weather. Normally it always rains some part of the day.

This petrol truck brought me back to Moron. They are building a new road, but nobody likes it, so they all use one of the five old sand roads that go parallel to it. Here we had to make the side a little less steep so the truck would make the dent.

And this is this morning with the milk and yoghurt ladies. I'm eating fresh yoghurt with goat taste (a little sugar helps a lot). Again it's such a quick impression of what I've done. so much more has happened, so many more people I've met. I write pages a day in my diary and still I have more to tell. So far Mongolia is a good country to travel. The people always help you, not that they like it, it's more that they need to, next time they are beside the road hoping for a lift. It's hard to get in contact with them, they are very independent and not always do I trust them. The harsh land has made it's people harsh as well I think.Well, this is all I can do for now, we're four hours further and I want to get out again. Thanks for reading!

Oct '10 till July '11 in Holland

2011-07-12T23:46:00.001+02:00

Back on Track

It's time, I'm off again.

It's a good time to head out once more for a period of 'just' half a year.

It was not so hard to decide where to go to, I've always wanted to see China. What's up with it's strange behaviours, what's behinde it's stoic facade, what's in it's religion and what does it look like with my own eyes.

Not too far and also sounding cool is Mongolia, so I'll start my trip there, just 30 days, before I take a train to Beijng. Siebe will get to Hong Kong at the end of October, so the last two months we'll travel together, Wiehaaa.

But first, a little update about the most exciting happenings in the last year:


Let's start in the months of September. With a group of friends we rented the boat Siebe normally works on and went sailing, chatting, playing games, sunbathing and enjoying the wind. Here you see us hoist up the mainsail, four man strong.

My crazy mum, all save and sorry.

New years was in Holland for the first time in eight years. Jeroen discovered it was very easy to get to the roof of this empty, 15 stories officecomplex. Twenty to twelve we were high and dry in a world of hazyness. The police did spot us, so we had to get down again, but as soon as they had turned the cornor we sped back up to be just in time for the fireworks. At about 4:20AM a whole squatting team turned up and started an afterparty untill daylight breaked. Not fear, already on the first day of the year we had our biggest coincidence.....or is this just the start....

In April we went skiing again, just like last year we drove and stayed dirt cheap in the South of France but with friends instead of family. For the first time the skiing started to be fun. I'm finally getting the heck of it.

Just quick and on my own, but I had to get to the top of course.

In Holland it already started to be green in April. With Easter we had the whole family together. Always delightfull. Dad drew a big portred of all of us so we could colorpaint ourselves. Above you see the result.

For the family album.

The nicest time in Spring was without a doubt a one week trip Siebe and I took to the Swartz Wald of Germany. I think we ended in 'hunters-hut-land', we saw so many, climed them all and saw deer and elefants.


Ewout borrowed his car to us, so we were free to go and stay as we pleased. Driving through lands of yellow blossoming dendilions, fresh green grass and petit real-German villages. We had time to talk, spread a blanket, stroll along paths and discover what was around the next corner. Siebe is pointing to dark thunderclouds, no sleeping outside tonight.

With Jeroen & Bertina and Micha & Lyske we sneaked into 'Het Land Van Ooit' (The Land of Ever). It has been closed for four years now and to our disappointment there are only a few things left. Like those soldier wading through the swamp.

Micha, Lyske, Bertina, Jeroen, me and Siebe.

And then I went sailing with this very hot and sexy dude..........

Ah no, it's only Siebe. With gorgeous weather but no wind we had another three days together in June. Some folks borrowed us their little sailingboat with a small cabin so we were sailing (well, more floating) towards the sunsets of the Friese Waters.

Again like last year I joint Jules birthdayparty at the sandplain in Soest. A lot of fun again, with instruments from all over the world and an I-phone who searched lyrics so we could all sing to the tunes.

June was busy. First a best friend of Siebe got married with his French girl in a little church in the heart of Paris after which we went to this chateau to eat and party.

But without a doubt my man looked the hottest, ChristAlmighty, what can a suit do?

Secondly I traveled as a guide with Flow, a fantastic company who organizes active trips for people with a slight mental disability. Unlucky me I got put on a Hotel/Beach-trip. The vieuw was great as you can see, but the mentality of the type of tourists around us sucked in my opinion.

Luckily Mary (left) and I were given the task to set up a program which kept us busy: Jeepsafari's, boat tours along the coast, Parasailing, bananaboat riding, bull fighting, a slide-funpark, a dolfinpark, visiting an old city and some things more.

It was very educational again, I really like working with those people, but I have to admit that I find it hard to stay motivated if there is so much laying-beside-the-pool. Here you see some of us eating icecream.

Nina and my brother Luc got married too on the 30th of June.

A small family thing at the day itselve, with cake and small speaches, a lunch in the garden, little games and inside dining after it started to rain around 5pm. The bride had made delicious tapas. Two days later we celebrated the marriage with a big 100-people bbq-party in the shed beside the house. I think they were very satisfiied with how it went. They have left last week to Thailand and Indonisia for three months as thier honeymoon.

Just yesterday my new friends here in Holland came to my place to dance bare feet Mathu style. With Jeroen I made a mix with numbers they had told me themselves so there would be no reason to not dance. It got really hot and feelgood, even my dad got up.

Two hours of dancing in the old gym of our house.


So, My sailor is sailing his ship to the islands of Holland and back and I'm off to other countries. I hope that missing him will get a little bit less while being away, being here in the same country it's just very annoying to not be on his side. So closeby but still so far away. Just three more months, then we'll be together for a while to come, traveling, living, working and sleeping 24/7. I wonder when that will starts to bore.......

Morocco with Siebe

2010-11-02T21:43:00.003+01:00

DREAMS DO COME TRUE

I'm not sure how many people I've told about Siebe, but I think most have heard a story or two.

And here we are drinking our last mint tea in Morocco.

A cheap flight, a new culture, mountains, freedom and this time with Siebe.

He left with his motorbike to my parents in the South, I went hitching. They brought us to the airport in Germany and five hours later we stood in the middle of the old medina in Fez, the spiritual and cultural centre of Morocco.

The vieuw the first morning from our 'niche':

This one million people city in the North of the country has a very cool old centre (Medina). You will get lost, and how fun this is you'll see in the many little backrooms where all the souvenir stuff is made. Sweets, carpets, brass plates, lamps, glued hats, bread and many more we discovered by following our nose and ears.

The biggest tourist draw were the leather tanneries where cow, goat, sheep and camel skins are being cleaned with bird shit and colored with henna, opal, mint, coal, and saffran.

In the plane we had met Chaoucki, a German Moroccan.

He invited us to his Uncle and Aunt in Meknes where he would stay as well this week in his home country.

Being ready with Fez we took a Mercedes Grand-Taxi (most common public transport here) where you squeeze together with seven other partners in distress to Meknes just 50km to the West.

Here we got introduced to our first home with mint tea and family.

Chaoucki walked us around Meknes, it's big squares, souqs and buildings of importance like here in the mausoleum of Moulay Ismail, the second Alawite ruler (1672-1727):

That same evening I was taken by Aunt Halina to a Henna artist friend of hers. With a big needle she painted my hands full with mashed Henna leaves in oil to sprenkle them with blue, pink and golden sparkles as is done for a wedding:

Your hands get dampend with a lime-mixture, wrapped in a sock and so you will know that the bride will not touch somebody else on the night before her wedding. The second day will be the big party...

We skipped that part and went with Aunt Halina to the market to buy meat, strange vegetables and mint.

The next few hours were spend in her little kitchen making a Tajine and a delicious tomatosause for dipping. Bread dough she would make herself, after which one of the children takes the flatbreads to the local bakery/oven where baking one bread costs 4 euro cent.

Our right hands (with left you do other things) were all over the table.

After two nights sleeping in Aunt and Uncles bed and being taken to the Hammam (a place where they will scrub untill you're really pink) we took our packs into the direction of the Rif Mountains in the North to do some hiking.

A Grand-Taxi took us to the pretty white town-on-a-hill of Moulay Idriss for some exploration and 5km further to the Roman ruins of Volubilis. It's the best preserved archaeological site in Morocco, settled by traders in the 3rd century BC, best known for it's many beautiful mosaics preserved in situ.

Sieb could not resist climbing the Northen gate:

When evening fell we found ourselves a grassy spot in a garden field just below the ruins.

Here you can see us waking up in the morning to birds and the owner who bringings his goats to graze. He picked pomegrades from the trees and chated with us as much as we knew French.

Making our way further towards the Rif Mountains we encountered a bus on which to wait three hours. In this time waiting the boy of the roadstand invites us into the farmhouse for mint tea; on the always-presented tv we got a weather forcast display of thunderclouds and lots of rain.

So, when the bus finally drove by, we walk back the way we just came from.

That night back in Meknes the rains started; we took a nightbus to the East, the dry side of the Atlas Mountains...

Dades..... and sand.

We woke up to a fata morgana like the once you see in the Efteling, the cartoons of Alladin, the land of Ali Baba. Of course not so plastic fantastic, but the real one.

Sand cities, blanding with the desert around them. Houses made from granite in the mountains, stones and earth on the plains. Man in white dresses, woman in black scarfs wraped around their whole bodies. Different fruits, lots of dades, mint tea with less sugar and dromedary (because there are no camels in Africa).

Blue, white and brown:

We escaped the rain and were pleased with unique clouds in the desert area. Close to the boarder with Algeria we visited the tourist place of Merzouga. Here a little stretch of sanddunes reaches 35km long and 5km wide in the big lava-plains of the East, If you pointed your camera right it seemed like you were in the real Southern Sahara. See me walking to the biggest dune of 160m:

But on top you could oversee the whole area and hear the roar of quads, motor bikes, jeeps and cheering people on dromedary. If you stayed a while like we did, you could definably enjoy the silence it has to offer too. Walking from top to top, watching how far olive-pits would roll and then rolling ourselves untill there was sand between our bum. We ate and showered at a campground but packed our stuff in the dark and sneaked back into the dunes to spread our nest at a little plateau with trees.

A quick nighthike to the top, no lights to Algeria, a desertrat nibbled our toes and the stars were there just a little while in the middle of the darkest night. No moon.

In the bus to our next discovery we got discovered by Mecen. Thirty years like outselves and full with experiences and history about the Amazigh, the original inhabitants of Morocco. In the beginning the Amazigh were joined by other people from areas around and when the Romans arrived in the 4th century BC they called this multicultural population 'Berbers'. It was not before 682AD that the Arabs truly came down to Northern Morocco and converted many Berbers to Islam thru force of conviction.
We took Mecen for dinner in Boumalne de Dades where he grew up, hungry for more answers and being fed with the best tajine we ate in our trip.

We slept at the roofpatio of this restaurant and the next morning we drove with Mecen into the Gorge du Dades. A well known drive for it's villages who bland in meticulously with the red and yellow limestone, the green gorge floor with fields and dade/figtrees and the many ruined kasbahs (fort; citadel where four or more families lived together).
For two days we walked, hitched and climbed around in this gorge. Being invited by a Berber family for mint tea and a tajine-lunch, the room was sparkling white with nothing else then mats, carpets and some cushions and the ever-presented tv (showing soccer).
Mint tea is poored high so you create a 'collar' or 'crown' of bubbles on top to cool down the drink and impress others with your straight pooring skills:

Of course we had to visit neighbors and play soccer (I took out the frisbee for the little ones) at their immens field-with-view:

Our new family told us about a waterfall some two hours walking from the town. So after refusing at least four time another cup of mint tea we took leave when night was falling. Between the rocks it was a bit tricky to find a flat, protected place to sleep, but here in the course of a dry waterfall we found an almost straigh rock where stars gazed down and we were quite happy:

The second night, on our way down the gorge, we spotted an old kasbah ruin standing on it's own between the fields. Maybe we slept at the same spot as the previous owners did many years ago? If you look closely you might find us:

And yet another sleeping spot. This one was close to the rebuild kasbah of Ait Benhaddou where films like 'Lawrence of Arabia' 'Jewel of the Nile' and ' Gladiator' are filmed. The kasbah offered a nice view, but else was not very interesting to us.
Spending the night in the little fields was more of an excitement. Just after we went to bed people came close and were looking around with torches. We had no idea what to make of this. Siebe stayed alert with flashlight and knife, you never know, but eventually we heard water running and we figured they were irrigating the fields. It was a good spot, dry and hidden:

At the big square in Marrakesh eating snales with toothpicks:

And visiting one of the many incredible elaborate palaces in this country.

The Bahia Palace was build by Morocco's top artisans in 14 years, beginning in the 1860's.

Painted, gilded and inlaid woodwork and super precise carved stucco make this floor-to-ceiling decorated house a true artexhibition. I've never seen something like it:

Hop hop. On our way to some waterfalls we encountered a souq (market) where shoes, pots and pans, herbs, fried eggs, donkeys, clothes, secondhand shit, tractors, orange juice, meat, pasta's, ovens, tools, goats, fruits and vegies and mint tea could be bought.

Even the dentist was presented with his treasury of previously pulled rotten molars:

The Cascades d'Ouzoud. Big, pretty, with monkeys and a good view around 4:20. We slept on the other side and didn't say much during breakfast...

One of the prettiest tajines we ate along the way, with dried prunes:

On top of the highest peak (2038m) we climed in the Rif Mountains.

We did make it back to the North to do our hike. We had left half of our stuff in Chefchaouen, ate a good tajine and started our hike around 8pm, arriving at the pass around 11pm. Best thing ever to do this with the fresh air of a full moon.
For four days we hiked through mountains with villages where we learned that the tapping sounds we heard from every house came from sticks or bare hands drumming on kif (hasj).

The Rif Mountains produce a hundred million kilo of cannabis a year. On estimation it brings enough money to feed one million Moroccans. It's the biggest hasjproduction area of the world where cultivation is legal, but transport and sale not. (een interresante uitleg: http://www.jointjedraaien.nl/wietforum/archive/index.php/t-1476.html)

Here you see Sieb wondering where it all went, the harvest season is just after the summer, so we saw nothing but dried, yellow stems.

The turkoise waters of the qued Farda and its ancient bridge tempted us for a refreshing splash and camping spot.

We build or home-for-the-night around a big rock. Bedroom (tent), kitchen (sheltered), backyard (with fresh water and cool animals) and livingroom (with fireplace).

Scrambling eggs in the morning:

Just after we had spotted monkeys beneath us:

In Akchour you could eat a meal, today it was sardines with a dry, tasteless, thick soup:

A pinecone fire.
That next morning we would meet a strange, exhubirant transporter who was carrying 20 kilo's of hasj to.......

Our last night was spend in a forrest guardian house where ten men with 30 blankets were squeezed together in one of the three rooms (to stay warm). They were replanting spurtrees and building facilities for the future daytourists.

It had just started to rain when we found this little shelter. Siebe went looking for water and came back with those two guys who didn't leave untill we came too. I must admit that their fire in a wheelbarrel was very nice, but their unshamed looks to Siebes wife ;-) were pretty present.

The part through Talessemtane National Park were definably the prettiest with its many Autumn colors:

Back in the blue streets of Chefchaouen we enjoyed a good scrub in the hammam, ate good couscous, drank mint tea while watching other tourists or see the locals go to the Mosquee after the call to prayer (five times a day).

Back in Fez we had two days to shop. Yeah yeah, we looked around for a cool lamp and a big plate/dish to eat from, ashtrays, clothes and other nicknacks.

More then three weeks had gone, lots was learned and discovered. How the country is originally not Islamic, how sandcities really feel, real mint tea, the ingredients to tajine, the true price of hasj and the Moroccan mentality (a little at least).

And all of this finally with Siebe.

It's one thing to know, it's another to be finally there.

FLOWing through Italy

2010-11-02T13:18:00.000+01:00

FLOW (http://www.flowreizen.nl/)

Our goal is to develop active vacations for people with a light intellectual limitation and to carry them out into unforgettable, unique trips.

Through my cousins wife I heard about this organization and so I did an interview, went through some educational weekends and got two trips assigned. One to the mountains of South Germany to go trekking (but I broke my elbow and couldn't go) and one to the North of Italy to relax in a five star hotel.

Three escort guides (Annelies, Niels and I) and fifteen participants:

Always being annoyed with regular tourists taking tours to things they easily could do themselfs, it seemed really satisfying to me to guide tours with people who can not do those things without some help.

The participants we independant, but needed some help with their medicine, moneycare, shopping, language, communication and organization. All in slight forms and everybody a little different. Most of them were autistic and needed some sort of structure.

So we took them to all places around Arco where it sounded like fun.

On top of the mountain castle in the middle of town.

Or to the midgetgolf.

Or we took a boatride on this big Gardalake to the peninsula of Sirmione. The captain was very friendly and we all took turns on the wheel.

At the top in the castle of Sirmione

The pool at the hotel was a welcoming refreshing playground some free afternoon.

Annelies, Niels and me.

Breakfast and a three-cours dinner were included with the hotel, so that was really relaxed (with the camping trips you have to shop and cook for the whole group yourself every day).

And with our two birthday boys the restaurant made two big cakes with to-be-blown-out candels.

One day we split the group up in two, an active part went rafting.....

......the others came with me to the top of a very high mountain with a cool cablecar.
Every day we would make a lunch and eat it at the most beautiful spots.

Another day we went to Verona. A beautiful city with lots of icecream, a big Roman arena and the real balcony of Romeo and Juliet.

The other birthday boy got chuked in the pool before he could really wake up.

Another day we parted the group into a Zoo or Funpark preference.

Some got eaten by the Hippopotamus......

.....while the rest came with me to yell harder then the rest in the Python.

Having fun after dinner:

The patio where we would go for a beer in the evenings and evaluate and cheer to another warm, succeeded day.

And of course we went a whole day to Venice, the city on islands, where you can wonder for hours through small streets and munch on great pizza's with good expresso's.

Those who wanted took a ride in a real gondola.

We really needed a beer after this day of counting hunderds of times till fifteen (pfew, we did get everybody back into the vans).

After twelve days it was time to take our fifteen tired new friends back home.

A great concept, I'm proud to have a little part in this good organized company. Hopefully I can keep finding the time to do a few trips a year and take some enthousiastic people on a journey they otherwise could only dream of.

Swedish Canoeing with Marie

2010-09-29T15:39:00.022+02:00

Hellooooo Marieieieie!!!!!!!!!!!!

She had JUST finished her medicine studies, was moving her stuff to her parents place, tried to organize an article and had to plan things for her trip to Mali where she would work on improving the health communication between villages with some other docters.

But this is what she needed:
My crazy Marie had made time to get away from it all and wanted to do this with me.
Like minded travel spirits.

Just like last year we were gonna hitch hike and because the weather forecast had only smily yellow suns on the website I decided to not bring a tent and sleep in the open air. Marie did bring her yellow not waterproof rainsuit, showed it once and chucked it away (too heavy).

Here we had arrived in Sweden with the boat. Very early in the morning so we had slept in the park a few hours untill some rain woke us up. It turned out we were right beside the main attraction of the town, this big fort.

Phones and canons

One of our rides, pretty early in the day, a car full of big boys drinking beer. We drove way too far with them, having Underberg for breakfast. Lots of fun.

And there we were, the tranquile lakes af Sweden with the endless possibilities to canoe, kayak, swim or fish. We did all of this, spreading our 'nest' everynight just anywhere. And every spot was so pretty and easy, I love this freedom and quietness.

Our first canoe, two days, one night.

Row row row your boat, gently down the stream..........

Mariely Mariely Mariely Mariely, life is but a dream.

We would stop, swim, smoke, eat, sunbathe, read, study French/write the diary, swim and peddle on.

Where we slept the night while canoeing, on this dock leading from a path that went up to an empty house far away.

Blue Marie

One night we had the bad luck of heavy rains. Sitting under my poncho it didn't help at all, so we packed real quick and ran to a little shelter. Too late, everything was soaking wet. It dried in one day while we made a long forrest walk and discovered more of those incredible cute houses.

Our diet consisted out of bread, cheese, cucumber, noodles, tomatoes, tuna and some cookies. Yes, the food is really expensive.

Our second time canoe rental, three days tow nights (kayaks were just too much).

In the afternoon we took off and found our own island not half an hour later. Funny idea it's all yours.

And the second night we had our own private beach.

During the day we had tried to fish, just a line with a hook, but while we crossed a pretty wavy open area where the wind picked up and we had to concentrate to not flip over, we lost the wire, sorry little fishies who might get tangled in this shit.

Both nights Marie would make dough from flour, water (from the lake), yeast and sugar. We would let it rise in the sun, I would carve sticks and so we wraped the dough around the stick with a sausage in the middle, mmmm.

My venecian condola peddlewoman doctor.

We did get invited just once by a very strange dude. We eventually said yes because we had been longing for a glass of wine the whole trip (very hard to find out in the woods) and he offered two bottles. His house was comparable with Marie's, only this was for real and not just a stadium.

We had some last strugles to get on the ferry back to Denmark for free, but after hitching to another port we managed. We had a last day on the beach in Denmark and there our paths seperated. I had a long hitch untill Holland and she went home for a few weeks to fly to Mali soon.

With a last pretty sunset I will say goodbye to Sweden and Marie.

Lithuania/Latvia and Oerol

2010-09-29T11:35:00.014+02:00

As promised four months ago, I would go travel to some places and tell you about it.

Well, here is the first part about my nine day travel to Lithuania and my week at the Oerol festival.

Having a broken elbow is the best place to get something broken in my opinion, after the operation there was no plaster and within a few weeks my mobility came back almost entirely. I was not allowed to put too much strength on it and I had to listen to the pain, so I figured that I should just make my backpack really light and travel really slow....

I found a cheap flight to Lithuania.

Lithuania, one and a half times as big as Holland with only 3.5 million inhabitants, is a quiet, simple, straigh forward country. The people are extremely helpfull but not very cheerfull. There is enough modernity, but still it all feels like you steped twenty years back in time. The vistas were a bit normal with sloping farmland, many lakes and lots of straight forrests. I had expected more ancient woods. The fisherman houses are cute, the churces had their own architecture and the dunes were not much different then the once we have in Holland.

I'm happy I traveled here to have the mistery of what those countries look like solved, but I would not recommend the trip as a highlight.

I landed in Kaunas, the capital, saw it's old downtown and moved on to Trakai which houses a stunning fairytale Island Castle of the rare Karaite people. Absolutely not to be missed when you are here, with a great display and beautiful lakes that surround it.

Pitching my tent at the lake shore, making my noodles, taking a dip and moving on with my thum to Vilnius the next morning.

A very pretty city where it was nice to stroll the cobbled streets and see the wild parks.

Siauliai was my next destination with it's Hill of Crosses. In war times the crosses were bulldozed by the Soviets, but each night people crept past soldiers and barbed wire to plant yet more, risking their lives or freedom to express their national and spiritual fervour.

After eating a tipical cepelinai in town I started to thum in the direction af the Baltic Sea. My last ride of the day would be from Renata (16) and her dad. She spoke very well english and her dad encouraged her to ask me to stay the night. They were underway to photograph the prettyness of the yellow oilflowerfields, something I wanted to do too.

At their house I met excited Giedre (sister, 12) and Irena (mum). Fresh baked bread, cheeses and tea with jam were put on the table and it was super fun to be overwhelmed with Giedre's enthusiasm. We slept at the attic and the next morning, after breakfast and seeing the whole vegetable garden (many houses have one), it was time to leave again.

Traditional clothing of Lithuania. Demonstrated at a music festival.

It was at the Curonian Spit, a very thin (500 meter) sliver of land stretching 100 km from Lithuania to Russia's Kaliningrad region in the South, that I lost my already made photo's.

I had slept in the dunes and walked in the direction of the Russian boarder when I saw a big lookout tower in the distance, ah, that would be it. I walked all the way up to it and about three camera's turned around and were put in my direction, I made a photo and friendly waved back. When I turned around I saw a military man mountain biking towards me along a looooong stretch of cut forrest, hence: The boarder. He was pretty short, spoke no english but knew the words 'photo' and 'delead'. Here we go, you may guess what happened, I had borrowed my dad's camera and was deleading something for the first time. Even my brother told me it's pretty weird with his camera. I deleaded everything instead of just one. Shiiiit. Being mad at myself beside this man who was out of breath from biking. I had to come along to the boarder patrol where I was told 'I was very lucky' because I did not get a fine and, after showing my passport, even a ride back into town.

Tipical fishing houses with woodstacks.

The forests at the Spit and through out the whole country were pine, boring, neat and straight. Not much else. Just like the paths.

The sand dunes are a world heritage site, but I thought them not to be much different then the ones we have in Holland, maybe a bit higher.

It was great to be able to pitch my tent just anywhere. Hiphip huray for a country with few people. At this spot a thunderstorm came over and drowned my tent in gushes of rain, flashes of light and the roaring of thunder, exciting!

All the most famous things seen I still had time left. I could hitch to Holland instead of taking the plane, but eh, I could hitch to Latvia too. So up North I went and this neighboring country got seen too. Not much different, the people maybe a little less friendly, a little bit different structures, the girls still dressed like hookers (really true).

Another spot where it was time to take a dip. Not for too long cause although the water was fine, agian there were A LOT of mosquitos. Everyone told me they had never seen so many.

It was a nice trip, very cheap with the hitching, camping and cooking noodles, nice to be out there once again on my own, but as I said, it's not really the hottest country to go to.

A week later my one and only festival of the year would start: Oerol.

It's a cultural theatre festival for all ages and has a great location at one of the islands of Holland, Terschelling. The whole island is dressed in little stages and scenes in the forests and the fields. Concerts at the beach and parties in the German bunkers.

I was lucky with Siebe, the boat he worked with was rented by a group who wanted to sail to the Island and have the boat as it's homebase. I was able to sail along and so I had a place to sleep as well. Still we would get some blankets some nights to sneak away in the forest.

One of the pieces: two woman made a fantasy table with lots of creativity and personages who were telling thier thoughts on the table through headphones. Every plate was different with a different telling.

Here another thing, boxes in the dunes with really good binoculars through which you could spot strange people far away while listening to eery music.

And of course time to make new friends and dance.

Siebe, one of his friends and Nanda.

Wright, part one of the summer happenings. I'll start with Sweden straight away.......

Getting through the Dutch Winter

2010-05-23T12:33:00.040+02:00

Hello everyone, it's been more then seven months sins I wrote you last. Lot's of time, but not much has happened or is very different.

I'm still living in the old squatted school and I'm still working at the Winkel van Sinkel in the very centre of Utrecht where the pay is pretty bad but the variety is awesome.

This is my place of work on the canal.

Just before real winter started I made another bikeride through the forests of Holland. It got really cold that night, with frost on my tent and a flat tire just before it got dark. I had to walk about two hours before I found a bikeshop to fix it the next day.

It was very nice to just bike around, but it was very frustrating to not find one spot without people or their sounds. Holland is really full. Also the nights are not very clear, even here in the forrest there were orange glows from all the cities closeby. Really a shame.The palace of the Queen in Soesdijk.

And then it was time to hop-on with Siebe.

We were together for nine months before I left five and a half year ago. Thinking I was just going for one year we were certain we would be back together after that. But now that things had gone a little different, one year became five and both of us had been involved with other partners, things weren't that sure anymore if we would look at it from the realistic side. Never minding that, I followed my feeling and instinct and came back to Holland to figure out what was still going on between us. I had never forgotten about the easyness of our relationship, the respect and trust I got from him and the love I could give to him. It turned out he hadn't either.

Eventhough he was involved with a very nice girl at the time I came back, after we saw eachother just once it was clear to him to. Winter fell down, we played games, people came visit me. And when it became too cold I moved in with Siebe for three months because there is no heating system in my squatting place.

Christmas at my parents place.

With new years we drove to Berlin with my mums car. 12-7-03 we had met at the Love Parade in Berlin so that was a fun coincidence too. We slept in the car and cooked noodles in the snow. God was it ever cold. We wondered around with thousands of other people, saw the big fireworks, found a little place where a chinese woman turned the musictable and after that we were taken to the fattest dig in Berlin of that moment: Deep. A big factory graveyard with many cellars and rooms........

Around 1pm the next day we were done dancing and ready for the big dip in the Spree River. It was a very cold newyears dive, brrrrr.

Winter stayed for a long time in Holland. we had so much snow and ice, it became a hassel to bike to work cause you would slip and fall and there was not enough salt for the roads. Almost everyone made a snowman this year.

And then my cuty Marie from Denmark came by to relax just one last week before she had to study die-hard for her last exams to become a doctor. My room was a freezing 4C at that moment, but with a sudden 'warm' day in the week, all the stoves turned on and lots of candles we got the temperature to 12C and rising.

Yes, this girl could be your surgeon in the future:

I did go to the hospital myself to remove a big varicose vein in my leg. Not because it was painfull or anything, just very ugly. It was an experience in itself. To get an epidural injection is so funny. It feels so strange. I was feeling the narcotic go through my nerve-system and make it feel cold but hot to the touch. Listening to all the sounds and suddenly seeing a leg straight in the air that was mine. Absolutely weird. Just four days I was at home, taken care of by Siebe.

The 11th of March Siebes sister Nienke gave birth to their first child: Amelie

I did invite all of you, but only one came. Zeph, my ex-partner from Paris came down with a friend and absolutely made my night. A few other people from my Salsa lessons (so we did dance salsa in the beginning), my work and one other good friend came down, the rest of the 60 people were related to Siebe. I'm glad we did this together so it became a real party for our 30th birthdays.

Some came early so we made dinner, the same amount slept all over the school after we quitted around 5am and they also helped clean up and eat all the eggs in the morning.

My brother Luc and his fiance Nina were such helps and big party-makers, my parents were the best making hamburgers at 1am for all the youngsters and Zephs friend carried the tipyar around to get us fixed with finacial help. The band who came by (friends of Siebe) were totally awesome and played from 1am untill 5am in the morning, having a 420 break here and there.And at the end of March we went skiing in Devoluy in the South of France.

With 12 people, family and friends, we enjoyed super fresh snow for three days, making the first trails, red cheeks of the sun, wine with games in the evening, a nice walk and lots of chatting.

Siebe and me before heading down.

There is still a lot to learn when I take my ski's out and I'm not the fondest of the cold, but with others who are so enthousiastic and smooth you just kept on going.

Spring.

In the heart of winter we got ourselves outside after a night of clubbing with a bottle of wine and a bag of tulips. We planted them in letters and see here the result:MOOI is whats written. It should have been 'Mooi he ........ alles' which means so much as 'Beautiful eh ...... everything'. But the rest didn't work too well.
And then it was time for the first bbq at my schoolyard.

Here you see Siebe and Jeroen, a new buddy of mine, boy can we ever sit and talk talk talk.

You really have to be carefull what you wish for. I was really starting to complain to myself that enjoying the moment was becoming more and more difficult. I was being ruled by my timescedule of work, my plans and appointments and it was starting to be impossible to just not think about how I was gonna arrange all the things I wanted to do in the next free days. Not that I have so much to do, but just sitting down with a book, writing my journal or being on my own were all skiped.

And then ..........

I drove with my bike to work, one of my Indian bells hit the frontwheel and six of my spokes got jammed inbetween. Yes I was going really fast and at once I stood still.

It did hurt I think, just the first minutes I was pretty dizzy. My elbow started to swell emidiatly and the called ambulance brought me to the hospital so make some photo's.

I had a broken elbow.

A huge cast decorated my arm for the next ten days before they could operate.

But not to be sad. You can still do many things with plaster.

Like having bbq's with the telly outside to watch football.

Go to the big queens night and day where you see everyone in Orange and you can buy so many things at the secondhand plaids of all the kids. What a lovely day was this.

The Festival of Liberation on the 5th of May was really cool to. Some nice bands, a really cool stage, many friends from different groups and a big blue sky.

Then it was time to operate my arm. I got really lucky because they could give me local anesthesia once again so I could hear and amuse myself once again with the sounds of drills, hammers and pleiers. Not to mention my funny arm afterwards.

My mum & dad and Siebe all came down to spend the night with me, while they ALL snored away I was awake by pain and discomfort hahahaha.

Because they put the broken piece back with a rod and wire (a certain clam) I didn't need another cast. YIPPIEYAYEEE, the recovery would be so much easier and quicker. I'm still not supposed to charge my arm with anything more then a cup of tea for six weeks, but now I can move it freely.

This is what it looked like when the pressure dressing came off 48hours after the operation.
The next day I jump on the back of Siebes motor to go to Kinderdijk, one of Holland most famous touristy spots because you can still see many windmills here.

And then just one weekend ago we had another little family weekend at my parents place. Three caravans parked in the backyard, my dad put up the tipi in which I slept four nights long and we all made ourselves usefull with peeling aspargus (famous in our province), pingpong, shuffleboard, volleyball, getting the kids to ride horses, ride in the tractor, go for evening walks in the dark, spooky forrest, go along in the wheelbarrow, shoot the air gun, go in the little sauna, watch really old family movies from 1980.......

....... pay al lot attention to big breakfasts and dinners.........

........ and get icecreams in pajama's for breakfast at the local supermarket.

All those things you're not supposed to do.

My elbow is healing great, everyday I can reach and stretch it a little further. It's not to hard to not lift anything heavy, you feel it anyway.

In the last week I've visited with lots of friends in the park with tea, we had a great warm week after a few weeks of cold and rain, so all is perfect.

Siebe really wants to become a skipper, so at the moment he's in the North of Holland on a big Tjalk (a tipical Dutch flat-bottom boat) making sea hours and learning how to handel the ropes. It's set up to make sailing tours/trips around the Wadden sea with groups up to 12 people. It means I have my school for myself, can do my own thing and miss him once again, hihihi.

Within two days I will go to Lithuania, just a cheap little nine day trip to get through the six weeks of not working. It's the reason I thought about making a quick update because when I come back I will tell you something about this small country between Poland and Russia.

This site is ment for travels, so that's just what you'll hear and none of these days these travels are gonna disappear.

In the future are planned: Lithuania, ten days Oerol on of Hollands Islands, two weeks Denmark, two weeks Garda Lake in Italy with Flow a travel company for people with a disability (I will be a guide) and one month Marocco with Siebe.

I'll never stop eh, hahahaha

Back Home in Holland

2009-10-12T11:01:00.020+02:00

Back home.

I left 10-05-2004 to make a one year trip to Canada and the USA. I came back 03-08-2009 with the visuals of 23 different countries on my retina. In more then five years I traveled from Alaska to Argentinia. Not really in one line, but zigzagging sideways and up and down. I lived nine months in Calgary with Graham, in total I spend three months with Ed on his boat Ketevara sailing down the Pacific coast of Mexico, one month I enjoyed the splendor of the Colorado Autumn with Chris, one month I tried to learn some Spanish in San Pedro de Lago Atitlan in Guatemala, I hitched to Norway from Holland for a month with Zeph, I spend one month commercial fishing on a little island in Alaska, I lived six weeks with -32C in the Yukon, one month I spend in romantic Paris with Zeph, followed by three months in the jungle in Costa Rica and Bolivia captured my heart and made me live in a forgotten little town called San Lorenzo for six weeks. The last month I hitched with Marie to Slovenia and Italy. The rest of the time I've been on the move almost every day.

The Buttery Blue and the Silver Spirit were my homes for twenty months, I still miss them every day. It's without doubt my favorite way of travel. I slept in hundreds of different beds to wich I was invited and almost a year in my tent. And my backpack has been my only possession for about two years. I took 13 flights, owned two cars, traveled by boat, train, hitch hiking and a lot on foot. I met more people then I could ever count and most of them still cross my mind every time. I have a bad memory, but I will never forget the gratitude and hospitality from all those.

Back to my parents in Baarlo, to the house I've been born in, the womb where all my love has grown. Where I can recieve and give without question.

I spend one month with them, taking it very easy. The weather was fantastic this August and so it was very relaxing to just go with the flow, organize what needed to be done (insurance application, my first mobile phone, meeting friends, getting my future house deal-done and networking for a job). It was getting-used-to to all those rules. They say Holland is a free country but I've never had so many obligations I had to take in consideration.

So I decided to get my new bike (my mums old one, taped up and with my India-bells) to Utrecht, 150km away. It was the best thing I could do to kick-off from 'being on the road'.

Off to Utrecht.

From 12pm Thursday till 2pm Friday I biked throug little forrests, along sloten through a flat landscape. A very different one from the mountains I'm used to by now. Holland is beautiful in it's own way, but pretty boring in another.

Dutch fletness with windmills here and there.

Also Dutch 60-year old woman invite you to sleep in their home on the dike, and so I came well rested in Utrecht.

I've only spend some time here with Siebe, a boyfriend I had who studied here. But the city had always held a very positive feeling with me. It's the only reason I knew I wanted to live here.

A super nice friend, Frederike, helped me finding a squatters room where her boyfriend had lived before.

The famous Dom in the heart of Utrecht.

Utrecht has lots of grachten, canals. Autumn has started in Holland so the trees are changing color and the leaves are starting to fall.

And don't miss the millions of bikes, an impressive, mind-blowing sight in this biggest student-city in The Netherlands.

The Old Windmill, First on the skirts of town, now all surrounded. We're growing fast.

Back to School.

It took me one month before I got Luc, my 'houseboss' (the guy who squatted the place five years ago with his sister) to make up a little go-commer, so I just organized everything and knocked the door one morning with my parents van containing my eight banana boxes, a big round chair and a 15Euro Marktplaat bed.

We moved in. My parents the biggest help in the world. It was so nice to create a home with others instead as normal on my own.

So this big building was born in 1912, to serve as a primary school, it has done so for a long time and still there is a creche on one side of it.

The other side, 2/3 of it, Stood empty for five years before Luc and Magda occupied it five years ago.

In about eight days we moved his stuff out, cleaned a poster wall, painted white and two hues of green, moved my stuff in, my mum cleaned, my dad build a kitchen around the coldwater sink, I decorated and collected furniture from the street. Besides that I was offered many hand-me-downs from people who knew I was gonna live here, so cool!

This is my classroom!

You enter......

....... and see there my travels unfold in decorations.An old classroom from 8.5m by 8.5m with a sealing of 4m. The huge windows from the first floor look out over the Majella park on the other side of the busy street (it's never quiet here, something I miss a lot). Already more then 20 people have had tea with me on the couch.
The highlight is my bed. It's absolutely amazingly cool. It's always full moon in my nest and if you can't sleep you may pinch yourself on my dad-made spinning-wheel so you vanish in 100years of dream-rich sleep.

It's great living here, I would never have thought it would look like this so quick. The first while I felt like a stranger to my own house, especially when friends came visit, but now that I've danced her in it starts to feel homey more and more. Maybe I should give it a name. 'Mathu's Place'

For the activities held in this building, mostly Tango-Salons and private parties, and the costs it carries, we, living here, all help in sustaining it. We pay a small 'rent' and electricity + water + internet costs. We try to make a cultural centre and so a stronger vote to keep the place to ourselves.

http://www.v420.com/

There is one point of shame to my home: you have to wear lots of my own knitted socks, scarfs and hats because it's pretty cold in Winter-time. The heating system worked with oil but has failed many years ago. The leaking tank has been dug from the schoolyard with organization of Luc and Magda.

In the five weeks I've lived here so far I met my new school-mates a little. Luc lives here full time, his sister Magda only one or two nights after her Tango nights. Micha and Lyske live downstairs of me, Ibrahem from Senegal has lived here for 4 years too. And then there are two classrooms occupied but the people don't live here.

Micha and Lyske have given a swinging Rock 'n Roll party because they both finished their education. She flew to Equador and Peru to travel with a friend for six weeks and in Febr they go to India. Like that, you never stop traveling even if it's through someone else.

A job has finally worked as well. I started to be ready with decorating when the urge to be productive and earn money took over. Other things had occupied my mind before. Within one week I was working full time at the 'Winkel van Sinkel'. A huge Grand-Cafe with many different possibilities. Lunches, patio's, a tapas night restaurant, weddings, club/disco's, dance matines and more. I don't think I'll get borred here very soon. And because we work here we may take free Salsa lessons. I'll start this Thursday, I'm curious how much all those boys in Latin America have taught me.....

So it's all going smooooth. My home-number is 420;) and I will amaze everyone with how much I love to be here. I've been a few Saturdays to town to find my new danceplace besides my huge room, to drink some beers, I've had already some sleepovers with mum and friends, I start to know where everything is and the best of all, the reason, love is back in the air. While my favorite season is showing it's beauty through my window I still flutter around and within. I can't think of anything to wish for and say thank you.

I did make one more trip before work took over. A hitch to the beach. It went really fast, I got dropped off in Scheveningen, the most popular beachtown in Holland with the Pier and it's beach parlors.

A 25km walk trough the dunes brought me to Katwijk aan Zee from where I hitched back. But not after a fresh dive in my own brown North-Sea.

Life is one big trip!

It's the only thing I will answer when people ask me if it's difficult to be back. What is being back. who goes back. Can we not only go forward? Where I am right now is not were I was two minutes ago, let alone five years. It's not important where you are or what you do, it's important you do and enjoy while you're at it. Dear friends,

Life is different now, I do the things many of us do in my own way and so my website will be less frequent. I would love to ask you to write me to MathuBloom@hotmail.com for personal responces and to visit de Vleutense weg 420 if you are somewhere near. I would love to have you for tea and diner.

Tripping with Marie

2009-08-11T12:28:00.044+02:00

Five weeks with Marie.

First Marie managed to get us work at Roskilde two days before it started. We could gooooo (240Euro is just too much otherwise.)

Roskilde is a 120.000 person big festival of 9 days with many bands, artists, stages and activities. The first five days is spend camping-in-big-numbers, after that there are four days with music and performances.

We would not have participated to all days camping (it's just a lot of drinking) if it were not that our first workshift was Friday evening. The afternoon that everybody collects in two fields (East and West) to wait untill 3am when the gate is stormed and rundown. This year though, a lunatic decided that it was time to set a record of earliest gate-smasher, and he broke through at 9pm the evening before, while we were relaxed guarding a watchtower with some equipment and fridges with our free lunchfood.

It was amazing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A massive field, totally empty, only plastic tape to separate the field in blocks, was filled in litterly three minutes time. How is this possible. Tents were put in circles to make 'camps', you had runners and carryers, people yelled, stumbled and I've never seen so many mobile phones in action. What an organization filled with chaos, it must be like the stocks. Depending who you are which one is more fun.

Three minutes after the gate had been trampled:

We finished our first of three, eight hour shifts (we always had to watch one part of the camping area's. No fires or cooking, little cleaning, making a bonfire and BBQ, making sure nobody jumped the fence (still three people managed to do so with us, hihihi.)) and found our own camp on the other side of the festival (a 45min walk). Marie had friends who came the next day.
My little tent which was Marie's and mine home during the festival and the following hitch:
Because we worked we had different bracelets and could walk at the tru festival area from camping to camping. Before the music days it was really peacefull and interesting here. Quiet lightshowes, a free coffee and internet area, nice green grass, tent building and tecnical personal.
Lightshow of the biggest and most famous Roskilde tent, the Orange Stage:
A game during the camping days = try to roll-down your opponents full beercan. You see what I mean......

Maries biggest performance was Nick Cave, so we stood at the front of the Orange stage that time, but the rest of the bigger names (Nine Inch Nails, Coldplay, Faith no More, Oasis, Pet Shop Boys, Slipknot and Kane West) were not for us. We went most to the Cosmopol and Astoria where bands played like: Amadou & Mariam, Analogik, Deadmaus, El hijo de la Cumbia, Gangbe Brass Band, Hanggai, Hjaltalin, Kasai Allstars, Shastriya Syndicate and Rokia Traore. World music that makes you listen. With new instruments, amazing players, very different beats, the best dancing and new discoveries.
At the front with Nick Cave:

Even at the sunniest Roskilde (we did not see ONE cloud) you get dirty feet:

Because of the third shift at Saturday night we missed Grace Jones:

Marie and I Sunday afternoon after her friends had left (work the next day) so we had our own side-garden. We were still gonna go strong for one more night:

The saddest part came after those fun, dancing, smoking, meeting, listening, wondering days.

Those lazy, half-drunk, too-much-money-having kids were just able to pick up themselves, but could not be bothers with theis often perfectly new, in-tact, spotless unneccesary 'junk'. We stayed untill the very last (we were watched/waited away) and this is what the Roskilde crew has to destroy:

And that for just ten days of fun and drunkenship. I had to cry and knew that I would never get used to this anymore. I really thought about how we could prevented or use this. A subject for discussion.

THEN

A new chapter started. After some relaxed days at Maries place, we moved her room to a bigger one in the house and we were very well-done by this, we 'planned' a hitch route through the South-East of Europe: Slovenia, Hungary, Slovakia and back to Denmark through Poland.

Lets start with that we had about 80 rides with every possible transport. trucks with fat Polish drivers, cabriolets with handsome, rich dentists, families with kids in the back, young boys with weed in the back, elder woman and horney guys:
One of the two cabriolet rides:

After a 1,5 day drive through Germany, where we flew with 180km/h over the highways, we were picked up by a man who enjoyed our enthusiasm about finally reaching the mountains and who drove us all the way (an extra hour for him) to the top of 'Der Drei Zinnen' (3000m) in the Dolomites in the North of Italy. Yes, we ended up in Italy, the rides had all gone too much straight South But this was incredible too.

At this marvelous lookout point at the foot of those Drei Zinnen:

We got dropped off on request and were totally wild of excitement. Never expecting to arrive here on the second night of our vacation. We walked 45min to another hilltop from where we had a view TO 'Der Drei Zinnen' and were blessed with a super starry sky, solitude and super good feelings; the first and most dramatic campingspot.

Just after we had set up camp (around 4/20 and sunset):

Later in the morning, after a bright blue and sunny sky with views, this fine mist came in and made us walk back through white curtains:

That same day we decided to pass through Venice. I had been there once with my parents when I was 14, Marie had never seen it. We were so close, so lets get South untill the Adriatic sea. Just before sunset, just 20km out of Venice, we got our last ride of the day: "Marie!! He's not going to Venice, he's going to the beach!" I yelled. "Let's go!" replied Marie.

And so we ended 30km East of Venice on the beach where Marie swam at night, the beach-night guards gave us insect repellant and Redbulls and we slept on the humid beach.

We even had neighbours:

A nice beachmorning with swimming and being lazy followed into getting and being in Venice.

The Republic of Venice (118 small islands with 177 canals in a shallow lagoon connected by 400 bridges) was a major maritime power during the Middle Ages and Renaissance, and a staging area for the Crusades and the Battle of Lepanto, as well as a very important center of commerce (especially silk, grain and spice trade) and art in the 13th century up to the end of the 17th century. By the late thirteenth century, Venice was the most prosperous city in all of Europe. At the peak of its power and wealth, it had 36,000 sailors operating 3,300 ships, dominating Mediterranean commerce. The houses are build on wood piles, they say the city is not sinking anymore, the historic centre with the many sights has 62.000 inhabitants and transport is entirely by motorboat (gondolas are only for tourists) or foot.

A paradise for photographers and curious people with it's many colors, corners, small streets and surprising and fancy architecture:

We slept in one of the parks just outside the historic centre and so we saw a very untouristic part of Venice with normal prices and the regular inhabitants of Venice.

The next day we left again and were straight away picked up by Fabio, a cool and cheerfull guitar player who took us under his wing and invited us (after a beer) to his house and the party for 'Festa della Redentore', a huge tradicional celebration to commemorate the end of the plague of 1577.

This is the first day when Fabio and a friend took us out for a delicious Italien lunch:

And after that a boat ride to two of the many islands around Venice. This one is more structured, VERY colorful and finished:

The other one had a tower way more on angle then the tower of Pisa:

Fabio had to play at a restaurant, (he's really good), and we watched. At the end of the night the owner of the place invited the giggling ladies (us) for strawberries with champagne. For sure he hoped more out of it ........ We don't think so, thanks for the champagne:

We all make mistakes and so we did ours right here; we left just before the real party started, after we had just spend the whole day hanging around the preparations.......

In Trieste, Italy we jumped off the boulevard/beach with way to many others:

And from there we got picked up by Robert Redford. He really looked like him and lived in this house with 8 or so Lipizzaner horses (they are born black but turn white with the years):

He was Italien, spoke perfect english (he was a know journalist) and lived just over the boarder in Slovenia. He had been and seen a lot and was very interesting to talk to the first day.

The city of Nove Gorica:

Next important pick-up was with Luca. He and his buddy were underway to a river-picnic to bbq with colleagues and friends. In the five minute ride we were invited along and when it turned out that the whole group worked for a rafting and canyoning company it got even better. The next day we would go canyoning with Luca. The young boys from Slovenia treated us very hospital, equal and with fun. It became a really comfortable meeting where there were no feelings of sexual discomfort.....

This is the last massive, 20m, waterfall from which you slide at the end of the canyoning tour:

It was Really cool this canyoning, I had done it once in New Zealand, Marie never and she had a little fraight for hights as well. But she managed almost all jumps and all slides from wicked waterfallsnwith enthousiasm.

Luca and Marie:

A volleyball game and drinking beer kept us busy that evening. I so badly wanted to climb this pointy mountain behind the town of Bovec, it really was the most beautiful area of what we've seen in Slovenia:

Next day brought us to Bled, a very touristy town made famous through a beautiful turquois lake with a little island with a quite church and a massive cliff with a castle in the backdrop:

The water was really warm, full with swimmers, and tempted us to swim to the island to explore it and it's pretty church. A very relaxing afternoon.

We were getting really brown by now, such good weather:

And more hitch hiking, on our way to Ljubljana, the capital with 280.000 inhabitants:

Here as well they have a sort of 'Christiania' like in Copenhagen. Relaxed, hippy-like, where I found the skirt of my life for 4Euro in the secondhand store.

It was 4/20:

These kozolec (hayracks) were seen all over in the countryside. The ground in the Alpine and hilly areas can be damp, therefore corn, wheat and hay are hung from the racks, allowing the wind to do the drying faster and more thoroughly:

Then we got picked up by a group of five man and one woman who invited us for coffee (we were invited for coffee VERY often by the way, even I drank a coffee or ten this trip!). After this cheerfully first meeting we were taken up the mountain (with one stop at a restaurant for a giant pizza) to a ten-house-town because they had nothing to do, were a little tipsy and good-willed. One of them was a little drunker and fell asleep with his arm in the pudding.

We slept on a forrest path on the Austrian boarder where a hunter warned us for bears and by coincident became one of our rides the next day.

We ended the hitch of that day in Vienna, the capital of the Republic of Austria with 1.7 million inhabitants, founded around 500BC. Marie had been here two times before and so she guided me through the first district with it's huge, majestic white buildings, imposing private homes and important monuments. Vienna also has many very pretty and peaceful parks and so it was not hard to find a quiet place to sleep.......:

Untill we woke up in the morning and my Peruvian handmade bag with my Bolivian covered diary (with all the e-mails of the people I/we had met), my Panamanian etui with digital camera with photo's of this trip, my passport, drivers license, bankpass, 4/20 and other dear souvenirs was gone. Shit!

The passport and drivers license were send by mail to the police four days later. The police send it to the Dutch ambassy who destroyed the passport because they are legally not allowed to send it by mail but did send my license to my home address in Holland. Nothing else is (yet) retrieved.

And then through Czech.

We took all the small roads and enjoyed the farmcountry and an invitation of Helena who brought us to Jan in the little town of Sušice, where this free man runs a private, simple, relaxed manege with 13 horses. He had many more animals and it was a girl- and childrens playground. Jan and Helena too embraced us like we were long-time friends and we visited different bars and a beautiful lookout over the Bohemian Forrest of Czech, really really apriciated.

Jan had green fingers besides being good with animals and it was often 4/20.

Jan, Marie and I above the Boheemse woud:

We left them around noon, those wonderful people in the South of Czech, and made a long and boring 24 hours hitch to Denmark with a last sleepover at a petrol station.

It was a fantastic vacation, Marie is such an easy, cheerful, charming and clever friend. I admire her busy life in which she is a medical student, sets up researches and is involved in projects as a volunteer which she knows to combine with all those cool travel adventures.
You're absolutely not Stuu-Pid my lil' Denish flower.

I love you!

After a few last days in Copenhagen we had to make an end to this togetherness, Marie had a new course to attend and I had to really start my new life in Holland.

I was not sad, more excited, scared, full with questions and insecurities but not at all loosing my positivity.

This new period in my life is gonna rock as well!

PS:

Dear Fabio in Punta Sabioni, Fabio in Nova Vas and Luca in Bovec,

As you might have read above is my diary with your directions stolen in a park in Vienna while we were sleeping. We are so sorry that we are not able to trace your names on the internet combined with all the information we remember. It is impossible to send you your deserved photo's we made together and to remind you of my 30th birthday party the 10th of March next year. We're soooooo sad about his. We hope you still feel the appreciation we have for all of you. I hope you might remember and search mine or Marie's name one day to find us somewhere, we should be easy to find.

Sorry!

Argentina Mate's to my Home

2009-06-24T22:04:00.027+02:00

I THOUGHT I had just one more day in San Lorenzo, but as it turned out it became (yet) a few more. Not only did I have a problem with my money (it got stolen and I had to find a way to get some for my last two weeks), but also my ankle was still very bad and people tried to help me in every way.

On advice from Mami I went to a curandedor, armed with coca, cigarettes, alcohol, llama fat, special seeds, minerals, opal, lavender, thyme and a bag with mandarines, chocolate and rice to pay the guy (you should not give money) I visited Iris' uncle and was cleaned from 'la tierra'. There is no way of explaining this, unless you understand something like 'mother earth' and that she has bad spirits as well who can invade your body or soul. You actually do that yourself, you invite them. I learned a lot and watched carefully how he used everything in an offering, listening to his soft wispered chantings and prayers, the smoke that was used to purify and clean my sore parts and my mind. Absolutely interesting. The days after, my ankle felt absolutely better, but shamely enough it went bad again.

These are the things I had to buy at the witchdocters market in town.

But then it was time, time to get going.

It was hard to say goodbye and I truly hope to have another visit to San Lorenzo in my lifetime.

The boarder was only a three hour busride away, I started to hitch but soon was forced to walk. A huge demonstration was going on in the last four days and the whole road was littered with roadblocks made by the farmers who wanted more money. The three hour trip took me two days! Lot's of waiting, 9 rides, way more money, new friends along the way .... a real Bolivian adventure.

And then, finally, I entered Argentina. I have to admit that I did not make too many photo's. I did a lot of hitch hiking, drove through an autumn landscape of browns, yellows and reds. The temperature was warm in the day and cool in the night. Some of the landscapes we incredible, absolutely widely, immens, outstretched. It all reminded me a lot about the USA, including the hospitality of the people.

I had to cry too. The western world with its modernity, it's unneeded luxeries, so much waste, so much unnessesary services. It was difficult, I became very quiet at first.

Can you belive me that I truly forgot that we have warm water coming from the tap in our kitchen!!!!!!!

I slept for the last times in remote mountains, here in the beautiful area of Cafayate. Met really really hospitable and friendly people, friendly in a very different way. There is just more money that can be spend.
A land-famous icon in Argentina is Gauchito Gil. Three times they told me his story and what I get out of it is that he is like The Robin Hood of 30 years ago. He stole from the rich to give it to the poor. Many places along the road are dressed in red flags and rags with a littel house where you can burn candels and ask him to forfill your wishes.
Upon arrivel in Cordoba I called a friend of a friend, who had no idea who I was or that I was coming, and got some more true argentina friendlyness. The hous with youngsters was all open doors and learned me how to make fresh pasta The second night we made a good bonfire in the backyard before we headed out to the discos in the dance quarted. It became a super late night, and when we returned home at six thirty in the morning I decided to hit the road straight away, without sleep. I made it all the way to Buenos Aires that day.

My last truck driver was another talker, listener and helpful hand. We were relaxed with each other straight away and the time and landscape flew by. Upon arrivel I did not get a hold of my Bolivian friend so we made a nice 'Bife a la criollo' in the truck and slept beside eachother ...... he in his truck, me in my tent.

The next morning he woke me the most Argentina way, with a mate. Mate is a fruit which gets dried, opened, hollowedout and made into cups, with carvings, pieces of leather or metal and maybe a stand because the bottom is often round. The herb they use for this bitter tea is finely cut branches and leaves of the mateplant. Most people mix it with some sugar. The mate gets filled, hot (NOT BOILING) water gets pored on, the herb sucks the water, you poor a little more and so some extra water is floating around. This gets sucked out with a bombilla (straw) of metal with little holes. Even if you are with ten people, still only one mate is used. The water always goes into a thermos form which you poor little by little sips and share the mate around. I think many of you will understand I LOVED this particular tradition of Argentina.

And then my time in Buenos Aires started. Initially just one day, but because a wrong flight scedule through my company I missed my plane and got booked two day later. The first night strolling around I met Javier. And those three days we spend together, sightseeing around town, enjoying the incredible tango culture in the plazas, drinking mates in the parks, eating Sandwiches de Vacio (the meat in Argentina IS good, very tender), chatting, watching photo's and cooking meals.

It was a very special meeting, we both learned a lot about subjects that are still a curiosity.

Sandwich de Vacio

The grave of Eva Peron.

And then it really was time to get my ass to Europe. It was a ten hour flight to Mexico City where I slept at the airport in my sleepingbag, had a wonderful day strolling around the city eating taco's and started the 11 hour flight to London.

London, Buckingham palice with the Big Ben. We did make a stroll along a few of the famous sights, me and my friend and her boyfriend. Ineke and I had met nine years ago in New Zealand, she's from Holland, Joe is from England. It was wonderful wonderful to catch up with her. Way to little time to talk and watch photo's.

My last hitch before home went from London to Stonehenge to the ferry that takes you to France and on to Belgium and into Holland.

Stonehenge, a world herritage site, build 3000BC, is a little blown up in my opinion. The stones are bigger then you think, the rope is too far away to really appreciate that, and the most mindboggling thing is how they got thos 'blue stones' all the way from Whales, 240 miles away, to this magic, curing or special place. The questions is what makes the place.

Back to three-lane Dutch highways.

Home sweet home.

My feet could go on the table, I was free to open the fridge, everything could be told in confidence, tea in abundance, my teddybear slept in my arms and my mum was without worry for two whole nights. Things got told, shown and shared, my dad cooked wonderfull meals, I biked through my hometown (I can still bike) saw many friends of my parents, called my own and made another attempt to pack my bag for a last hitch through Europe. Yes, tomorrow I will be off to Denmark, to my best friend Marie with who I'm gonna dance like the devil at a one week festival and then to go hitching around. It all doesn't matter, she has her last exam tomorrow, me a 8 hour hitch, then the adventers and relaxing can start.