MPW | blog
Ok, I know that the travel blog just petered out after I sold the motorcycle.
I must admit that it was a kind of subtle protest to what felt like a less interesting life.
Anyway, all suckiness aside I will now officially call my 5 month motorcycle journey… over.
Here in Toronto I begin my plans for the next leg of my travels.
18 to 24 months from now I will take an excursion of one year or more through Africa and Asia.
So for now… Goodbye travel log, hello daily grind
I am currently nursing a head cold in a tourist town. Colonia, Uruguay is like a resort destination for citizens of Buenos Aires.
Pretty, a little pricy and a simple choice for weekenders. My mild fever and general lethargy has me with lots of time to think.
I am finding this last month hard. So much identity was wrapped up in riding into towns and villages on a motorcycle. It was a calling card of individuality and helped lubricate the encounters as a traveler, not a tourist.
Plus what ever glory I felt in achieving my goals is fading and the journey is ending in a whimper. Not to mention I’m disorientated by the ease of life on foot and busses. I miss the ab workout of strong head winds and slippery rain as riding does take some physical energy.
I know that it is my attitude that is at fault and I’m trying to reconcile this but for now I just want to kvetch.
How fickle is the human spirit to have moved my body across a substantial part of the globe yet feel disappointed that I only scratched the surface. My style of travel was very cautious and for that I feel sad that I missed so much. I dream of taking my acquired knowledge and confidence and do it all again. I suppose one could say that about most lives lived.
I can’t decide if my desire to continue deeper into world travel on motorcycle (Africa is next year… or so) is a healthy awakening of my spirit, or just further alienation from the world of the familiar.
How the moods do swing when traveling solo…
When I work in the recording studio I can easily grind away for 12 hours. Much gets done in that amount of time. Yet 27 years of that perception has distorted my notion of the length of a day. To be still (motionless) in travel mode (and not ill) seems to make a day much shorter. There are so few days in a given life. My Toronto, big city, carrerist instincts… struggle against the gentle passing of time. Let alone without a motorbike to put that, need to make life difficult, feeling to work.
Hmmm. Oh restless spirit… Who leads who?
Colonia, Uruguay sunset.