Just As Exciting to Find

The preface in Hiram Bingham III's 'Elihu Yale. The American Nabob of Queen Square' (1939):

The explorer Bingham claims it is just as exciting to go and find behind the ranges of the Andes as it's to dig into an archive. I thought I was the only fool on the hill but there is at least one more :)

Composition

Summer is coming. Time to think and dream about 'Where To Go To' this year's summer. 

I loved to stroll in the streets of Obidos (Portugal). The walk on Offa's Dyke in Wales (United Kingdom) was satisfying more. I met God in the church of Czestochowa (Poland) more. My favorite place for skiing is Voralberg in Austria more. The view from the mont Ventoux (France) was breathtaking. I long for the colours and smell I saw on the coast of Alicante (Spain). One day I'd love to have a little hotel somewhere along the mediterranean sea in Egypt. I could live in Germany. I'm very content with my old house and little village (The Netherlands) I live in. But ... - take a breath! 

there is only one place on this Earth I immediatly felt at home: Lake Annecy (France). To be more exact: it was home. It felt natural and familiar. The views. The course of the streets. The composition of the mountains and water everywhere. I know it sounds stupid and crazy but I must have been there before. 

We travelled via Verdun and the Jura to Menthon-Saint-Bernard on the edge of Lac D'Annecy (english 'Lake Annecy'). It was a bit windy. The air was full of rain - but it wasn't raining. When I drove into the valley I knew where to drive to. I knew what the next view would be. I just knew ...

Question: Ever been to a place you must have been to - somehow - before? How?

Listening to Crystal Gayle

King Offa was one of the kings who lived in the 8th century in Great Britain. To protect his kingdom Mercia against the various kingdoms of Wales he built a great dyke between his and theirs. Offa's dyke is a great earthen barrier of circa 283 km that runs between England and Wales.

In 1989 I walked with friend X the long distance path that roughly follows Offa's Dyke. Clouds. Lot's of clouds. Most of the days heavy with rain. Rain. We had a lot of it. Sun. We had more of that.

After a few days we got more and more tired. Rucksack of 20 kg. Walking 30 kilometers each day. Sleeping in a little tent in the middle of "nowhere".

One evening we arrived at the top of another hill. Beauty is subject to inflation if you see it after every corner of the road. Tired. Looking for a place to sleep. I walked back to the house we just passed some minutes ago. Another night at a Bed-Breakfast? Wow, yes please. That would be nice. Warm hot bath. Comfortable bed. Something to eat?

Setback! No beds left. We discussed about what to next. The landlord of the Bed-Breakfast walked to us. "There is another Bed-Breakfast down the road. I just called. If you want to, you can stay there. Do you want a ride in my Landrover?" Yes please!

1 hour later. Shaved. Took a bath. Sitting in a warm and cozy room of a Manor. Music of  Crystal Gayle - her music was new to me. Soup. Bread. Stew (cawl?). Wine. It was the best meal I ate in my life.

What Food, Glorious food! story do you want to share?

I went into a room

I went into a room on the day that Jesus was born. Outside snow. Lots of snow in Austria. On  a 10-day ski holiday with my mum, brother, a friend of my brother and my girlfriend (now wife).

Just finished my 5 hour walk under a warm sun. I walked alone. Everyone else went skiing. Nothing happened. I made no spectacular climb. Didn't risk my life. Enjoyed the views, houses (german 'Maisäße'),  clouds and sun. Life in Austria is always so much more vivid.

Back in our apartment I took for something to eat. Made hot chocolate. Lurked in a book. The room was warm. I felt tired and satisfied. Nothing happened. Everything was quiet and cosy. In a few hours we would eat together and get a few drinks. But that was a few hours away. Far away. First more monky-me: nap, read a little and write a little. Just me and the ticking clock.

Music and the burden of history

Music. Just music. Just music?

Sunday morning at the end of the Eighties - 20th century. Fresh wind coming through my open hotelwindow. Warm spring sun. Listening to easy and mellow music on tape. Watching the gardens and houses in the Mea Shearim neighborhood in Jerusalem (planet Earth). I was not the only one with an open  window.  I heard voices of childeren and adults coming out of the surrounding houses.

I played Marlene Dietrich' 'Ich bin von Kopf bis Fuß auf Liebe eingestellt' (1930) loud. Very loud!  I wanted to give and share. Suddenly I realised where I was. I was in the middle of the most firm and orthodox place of  Jerusalem. Fear. I had a vision of  furious Jews who wanted to lynch me. Playing German World War II music in the middle of jews. How could I! Quickly I put the 'volume down'. For hours I was afraid someone would knock on my door and scream "Lynch him!". Those Others. Nothing happened.

That morning I lost my innocence. That morning I realised music is connected to history. The burden of history. Music is never 'Just music'.

P.s. Many years later I found out that Marlene Dietrich (1901-1992) became an American citizen in 1939 and despised the antisemitism of the Nazi's. In WW II her music was loved by soldiers on both sides of the conflict.

Aswan. April 3th 1987

Aswan. Late in the afternoon on April 3th, 1987. Old Cataract Hotel on the back. Sitting on a big red rock. Fresh wind. Sun going down. The feeling of a rock radiating its warmth. Feluccas sailing by. Noises. Sitting in the black and fertile world (ancient Egyptian 'kemet'). Looking at the other side of the river Nile, the red world of the dead (ancient Egyptian 'deshret'). Thinking about Lord Carnavon and Howard Carter. Puzzling on what's the same and different in ancient and modern day Egypt. Wondering on Tutankaten and Tutankamun, two radical and different religious names for the same physical man. Feluccas sailing by. Riverbed with water floating. The same riverbed. For ancient egyptians. For present day egyptians.

Suddenly, everything was quiet and one. The world with all its sounds and motions came to a standstill. For a few seconds I felt "...", One with the universe and humanity. For a few seconds - that seemed to last forever - everything was perfect. THAT! 

P.S. More on this from me.

Some basics on dreams and travels

#Dream #Travel What about you? Where do you want to go to?

Sometimes I think it works like this on planet Earth. Or am I too biased as spoiled Dutchman? People who live in North-Korea dream of fleeing to South-Korea. People who live under a dictator regime dream of living in the "free world". What do you dream of if having good contacts (including nothing comes for free) or go with the flow of corruption is the only way to survive? Do you dream of  Western Europe or USA?

Where do people living in Western Europe dream of? They can't flee - they are already there. People of Northern Europe dream of living around the Mediterranean: an easy and simple life under a warm sun. Where do rich, intelligent and free people around the Mediterranean dream of? For them there is no place they can flee to or dream of. They can only flee to an inner invisible world, to an inner spiritual world or to an imaginary elsewhere.

Seneca (Moral letters to Lucilius/ Letter 104, 8): "O what a blessing it would be for some men to wander away from themselves! As it is, they cause themselves vexation, worry, demoralization, and fear! What profit is there in crossing the sea and in going from one city to another? If you would escape your troubles, you need not another place but another personality."