They have a way about them those who come from Paris They do They drink copious amounts of wine They smoke too much They talk to themselves They talk to strangers They talk to each other They talk about food. This part is very important They face the street as they sit outside neighbourhood restaurants They sit and they watch They take their time They meander They look good doing it too They wear scarfs They wear a lot of scarfs They do in fact carry baguettes They ride bicycles and scooters and anything else that need not be parked They migrate the metro They walk through your photo and you can't blame them for it They sidestep the daily suitcases and camera toting tourists who celebrate their home as they go about their day They walk cobblestone streets that tell tales of days gone by They are young and beautiful, no matter their age, in a setting that is so very beautiful but so far from young They are loyal to their love laden language They keep sake their culture in the company of newcomers They are sexy in their nonchalant cavalier way
They are Parisian And they are still drinking wine
The icy cold waves wash over me as I cling to the wax covered surfboard. My wetsuit hugs me tight in a losing battle to keep me warm from the cold Atlantic waters. The oceans hypnotic spell has it's way with me as I gaze out at the stunning South African coastline. This is Cape Town and it is simply beautiful. It has been my home for the last 6 months and it has been a paradise. My time here is coming to an end tomorrow but before I go I knew I had to get one last surf in with my good buddy...
“PADDLE!!!!” Anthony shouts, jolting me from my daze. I look back to see a huge wave coming right for me and somehow I'm in the perfect position. You wait out here all day ignoring the frigid waters, the exhaustion and the commitments of land, waiting for that one last perfect wave. Surfing is not a weak mans game for it is one of stamina, commitment and patience. The very waves that push you down on you way out are the same waves you will stand upon on your way back in. The parallels to the battles of life are in there somewhere in that barrel roll that will either be your glory or washout. My ever patient frenchie Anthony has been teaching me the trade during our time in this Afrikaans utopia. Having met him in Bangkok years ago it's been a slice hanging with him again here in SA and it makes me think of how small the....
“KEVIN!!!! PADDLE!!! he screams again. The look in his exasperated eyes kicks me into gear.
I put my head down and paddle for hell.
A few whirlwind days later I find myself panting heavily as I carry a snowboard up a mountain of sand. Ahead of me is Nick and leads the way as we grind to the top. An acquaintance for over a decade, this trip to Abu Dhabi has crossed our paths once again, The weeks late nights spent washing philosophies with beer have now made us good friends for life. He's your classic Albertan; loaded with charm and many a story of adventure. Last nights story however, was a particularly special one. “I'm going to marry her” he confesses after just the right amount of liquid truth. Working as a teacher here in UAE he met a fellow teacher he affectionately nick named (yes that's on purpose) "Dixie" and soon while hiking through the mountains of Nepal he will ask her to spend the rest of their lives together. Our paths have crossed at a pivotal crossroad in his life and I'm honoured to be there to see it. We celebrate the way any good Albertan knows how.
Reaching the top of the peak, both sweating out the beer and trying to save face for how winded we actually are, I look out to the horizon. 360 degrees of wind and sand. Dune after dune of sand. Below us, at the bottom, are our friendly Middle Eastern guides standing in traditional white dishdashas , besides the buggy’s we raced here and the camels we will ride after dinner. It's a surreal moment. One that's bound to pass too quickly. So I take it in and hold it for a breath as I watch the setting sun. Then, with the wind whistling in my ear, the sand feathering my face, I aim my board downwards and cross sand boarding off the bucket list, my heart beating hard with first time excitement.
Nicks cheers fade into the wind as I race downwards.
“One last night for the wolfpack, my friends” he says. Govi, my Australian/Indian/no one really knows where he's from, friend announces this to rally the troops. It's been 2 weeks here in Bangkok and they have been pure mayhem. A reunion of complete chaos from seven friends who met four years ago. Every day here has been an unreal adventure as Govi, Arturo, Sergio, Zach Steffen, Martin and I take the city's streets and take over it's parties. All of us having gone our separate ways since our first meeting years back, it was no small feat for us to reconvene from our scattered corners of the world. Coming back, seeing old friends and falling in love with the unvarnished beauty of BKK once again, we go all out. Night after night of debauchery, each time the celebrations getting more wild, the morning hangovers more severe and the tales of last night meant to out do each other more grand. This whole trip finally culminates with the infamous Songkran festival, a 3 day party where the ENTIRE country of Thailand stops everything to have a water fight of epic proportions. Tonight's final send off will be a foam party with more free drinks than we could ever need, surrounded by beautiful women we surely don't deserve and way too many inside jokes as the beats blare on. Propped up only by redbull and each other, Govi leads the way as the Bangkok Beasts head out, confidence dangerously high and water guns in hand for one last explosive adventure together in the wild BKK night.
I think my heart is about to explode. Or at least that is how it feels as I drag my suitcase back up this road looking for the bus. It's eight pm here in Kuala Lumpur and I have just ten minutes left to catch the night bus to Singapore, my next stop on this worldwide month of adventure. My friend Caryn has generously offered me a place to stay with her. The chance to see Singapore again after living there 3 years ago is too good to pass up, even if it means leaving KL early on my first trip here. No tears shed though as KL isn't my vibe anyways. Singapore however, is a one of a kind city and Caryn is a one of a kind girl with a heart of gold .......and an evil dog that hates visitors.
But that part I find out later.
So I pick up the pace. I've been dragging this suitcase for over an hour now. Got to push it. I flew to KL from Bangkok after learning that it was the best place to apply for a visa for my next contract. The visa process went surprisingly smooth, which is weird because it never does. Finding the bus station to leave this city however has proven much less smooth. It's supposed to be just around the corner, but each corner brings another “helpful” local who points me in an opposite direction. As my face pours sweat and my legs pump their tired muscles, I realize I'm closer to finding a new workout than I am to finding this supposed Narnia bus stop. Sick of being out of shape? Try putting everything you own in a suitcase and dragging it around the world for a couple years. Not challenging enough? Do it with a suitcase that lost it's wheels couple countries back. Really helps for that extra burn. As my flushed, frustrated face melts in the thick, humid night air, little shards of melted suitcase flake off the bottom and stay behind as I push onwards. I can feel two weeks worth of Bangkok booze being purged from my body as I drag my anchor of meagre belongings back and forth in mumbling frustration. It feels like everything is falling apart, I have no idea where I'm going and I'm too tired to make this work. Am I ever going to find it?
This, is the life of a traveler.
And I love it.
I hate it I think to myself. Celine Dion belts into my ear while my friend JK belts it into the microphone. She's really going for it and Celine Dion never sounded so good. If you like that sort of thing.
Me, not so much...... but it doesn't matter; I'm glad to be here, Dion or not. Surrounded by old friends like JK, Sarah and Ludovic, Alex and Stefan, It's a nostalgic moment a long time coming. Tonights agenda: sing 90's songs like karaoke rock stars while throwing back liquid courage to improve our “singing voices”. Or more likely just our ears. Sure my heart will go on, I'm just hoping the song will stop already. But before it does, the door swings open and in enters a blast from the past. Two great friends who I just left in South Africa and who I first befriended in this same city years back. Anthony and Belen, one of my favourite power couples and two of the most genuine souls I have ever met. Anthony is in full party mode. He out-screams Julia, cracking a beer and spraying it everywhere, soaking us in the process. Everyone laughs while Belen shakes her head, smiling ear to ear. It's going to be another great night with great people here in Shanghai.
I look around the room surrounded by familiar faces from my past and new friends from the present. I see four years of my life. Fours years of travel on the road since our first time meeting, finding myself back in this very same room, with the very same crew. It makes me think.
We set out on our travels through life, passing each other along the way. We never truly know where the path will take us, sometimes it takes us somewhere new, to where we find new friends and sometimes; it leads us back to each other....
and tonight that's something worth celebrating.
