Travel update : after getting my full refund for my Colombia, booked one for Lima, Peru. Not sure if I will be staying there long term - ehhhh, big cities are not for me, even coastal ones -, stuff like finding a gf, a tutor, a beachside apartment, a nice neighborhood etc. will ultimately factor in, so we will have to see... Am grinding the dating sites right now to set up some dates when I get to Lima, so this will heavily factor in... This said, I have no intention of travelling much once settled down ; perhaps some weekend trips, but nothing much longer.

Jerusalem

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OcM4TAVeAnY

My inner call to be (somewhat) sedentary lately, is preceding any desire of stepping outside of my comfort zone to explore much, especially when the outside world consists of greyish rainy days and the likes. This said, my limited time over here will dictate the pace of the next few days, as I will be checking out the Dead Sea tomorrow, followed by Mitzpe Ramon for the next week (I hate travelling on Sabbath day, but will beat that 16:00 all-activities-cease-to-exist deadline).




Train view on the way to Jerusalem
















Had to get a pic of all dem fresh vegetables


Am pretty excited about spending time in the desert and with this upcoming trip to Peru.


Run good all

El Mar Muerto

Been grinding the Latina dating sites lately, essentially splitting my realms in between Israel, Peru (and Spanish) and the virtual tables. Israel. Peru. Poker. Rinse-repeat. A schizophrenic split Saint-Trinity that would make even someone as loopy as Mr Robot envious.

I have engaged conversation with some absolutely beautiful, interesting and educated Peruvian chicks online, the likes of which can put any man in a dreamlike trance... Most of them 35+ years old, yet still absolutely and refreshingly stunning at that ripe age This said, am I deluding myself in thinking any relationship with a local could prolong beyond my trip…. That our diametrically opposite goals could somehow be conciliable…. Is my eternal desire to wander the world a hindrance in pursuing something that extends further than a few months of casual exchange…. Is it feasible to seek a combination of wanderlust, spiritual and liberal-minded socially conscious woman…. Or perhaps should I simply chase moments of pleasure, some ephemeral companionship, some volatile desires…. Ohhh the pros and cons, never fully adding up to that perfect equation in the end... Nevertheless, onwards we go, as fleeting contemplations were not enough of a hurdle to stop us from roaming through the desert en route towards the Dead Sea.





Desolation has been my longest acquaintance. Insofar as to transcend the great, amazing friends made along the way... None has indeed been as loyal of a compatriot as my longstanding pal named Solitude...





Whether it be through the meandres of the forest, the ripples in the ocean, the riffles in the sand, he has always tagged along. Until death do us apart, desolation and I, paradoxally solo travellers united out of a pure unfounded algorithm.





“You are travelling alone?”, those 4 words that get liberally tossed around, trying by all means to refer to the status quo …. "Yes" is my simple serene answer, as my friend solitude and I, formerly foes, have forthwith grown inseparable.





The years have instilled some sort of peace within me. Even in those dark corners, where a prolong visit leaves me completely unfazed.





Peace Y'all

Great pictures man!

Doggy Dog World

We have it good in Canada. We live on a massive land inhabited by a smallish population (where the majority live down south, close to the US of A border), have a ton of resources, room to operate and our sole neighbors down south remain our allies no matter how much we like to distinguish ourselves from American policies by being liberal, welcoming refugees, having multicultarism as a national identity, practicing pacifism and being (excessively) polite. Sure, we lack in culture (Quebec not withstanding) and remain Americanized despite our good intentions, but it is not a dog eat dog world.

Until Nazareth, I never really felt welcomed in Israel. Even at the mediation centre where we naturally tend to be more selfless and compassionate, a lot of Jewish folks would never smile, nod or simply acknowledge my presence (and I mean I am reserved and all, but definitely a social dude). But can you blame them? A combination of eternal nationally fight with the daily hustle and bustle of fighting for every inch of space, makes life here a constant battle. And, unfortunately, establishes an unhealthy equilibrium. One based on survival. On competition. On distrust.




Sunday where folks return to their respective workplaces following Sabbath




I had about a gazillion and 1 peeps pass me in line today... until I took out my own guns, of course, and started firing away at all living being, imaginary or not




This is the market a few minutes after the start of Sabbath in Jerusalem which magically become (almost) desolated in the blink of an eye




Random hotel in the old city of Jerusalem



Thx man. I heard that song a ton of times. Actually, there is the policy on Canadian radio stations where a third of the tunes have to be by a Canadian artist. I am sure you can imagine the ones that get played until the end of times

Thx Rick, hope all is good in Van bro


On my way to Mitzpe Ramon AKA the desert. Pics/post to come.


Run good all

Da Roots are Blossoming

Rajasthan, India, 2003. We met in Bodhgaya, the Israeli chick and I. What was originally meant to be a relationship based on lust, rapidly deteriorated to daily arguments, defiance and opposing views... But it matters little now that we find ourselves in the heart of the desert, as her camel rides away towards the horizon and its dying sun while mine paces along quietly, imprinting the sand with ephemeral footsteps soon to be erased by the rising wind... Ohhhh, this feeling of impermanence nestled in subtle peace...


Roots. Rock. Reggae. Or the comfort of a nice apartment and the easy access to fancy restaurants... Your pick.

It is refreshing to be here, in Mitzpe Ramon, a quiescent little town on the fringes of the desert. Think slow pace, friendly people, coffee, walks, beautiful sunsets... As soon as I got off the bus, I felt vibrant, excited to be in the middle of nowhere far away from civilization Kinda of making me question the intentions of my upcoming trip to Peru, where I plan on getting (a more than) comfortable apartment in the midst of the hustle bustle But then again, I know how to appreciate readily access to culture, fine food, women, poker games, cinema, the beach as much I easily dig into the silence of nothingness... I had a Russian friend point out to me how interesting my blend of contrasting passions involving meditation, poker, travelling, crypto investments, basketball, writing, tennis etc. can appear to an outsider... My answer : life is f*****g complex and its all about the nuances, yo.




Mitzpe Ramon is a charming village where I could picture myself spending a timeless amount of time in







Kinda of refreshing to get away from all those overpriced hotels and stay in something more simple, basic. It lacks in privacy though, as I am renting a room in a home, but when I saw the pic of the Israeli hippyish long hair dude on Airbnb, I knew that things would go smoothly




Of course, it helps to have this in the vicinity, doesn't it




This said, even in a haven like the desert, you are never fully safe


I will be enjoying my next few days over here, obviously Looking ahead, not only do I have my hotel booked in Tel Aviv and Lima, but also have booked a chalet 90 minutes north of Montreal for May-Juin Darn, am getting quite organized in my riper years - sort of... Have yet to pay for my place in Lima (even though I found it), as I want to determine once there if that big of a city is feasible for 2 months, or should I head north instead to a smaller beach town (or even Trujillo...). Tbd...


Run good all

In the Dead of the Valley

Grand Canyon, 1996. Like the noobs that we are, we committed a few errors along the way. Notably crossing the border with weed on us. Not the best life decision, mind you, especially when factoring in that I had been arrested 6 months prior for marijuana possession in Montreal and was hence the beholder of a criminal record…. (disclaimer : this would not be my last time crossing borders with herb, be it American or not, and getting caught!!!). We choose the Grand Canyon as our final greyhound stop, as oppose to San Francisco, the latter being our final destination…. And like the 19 year old immature kids that we are, numerous were the arguments/altercations along the journey. But none of this matters now. Nope. Not when you find yourself high like a kite, by the Colorado River at the bottom of the canyon, all eyes on the rising moon. Nah, nothing matters then.

Speaking of the word "matter"

Mitzpe Ramon is located at the edge of the desert, not too far off the Jordan border :

From Wikipedia : "Makhtesh Ramon (Hebrew: מכתש רמון; lit. Ramon Crater/Makhtesh ; Arabic: وادي الرمان) is a geological feature of Israel's Negev desert. Located at the peak of Mount Negev, some 85 km south of the city of Beersheba, the landform is not actually an impact crater from a meteor nor a volcanic crater formed by a volcanic eruption, but rather is the world's largest makhtesh. The crater is 40 km long, 2–10 km wide and 500 meters deep, and is shaped like an elongated heart. The only settlement in the area is the small town of Mitzpe Ramon (מצפה רמון, "Ramon Observation Point") located on the northern edge of the crater. Today the crater and surrounding area forms Israel's largest national park, the Ramon Nature Reserve."

I think it will come to little surprise to you folks, that plentiful are the hippies that find their way towards here, working in the little few restaurants catering to the tourists over here, or simply chilling in town It is a sweet little vibe, to say the least, one where someone could natural settle into it in a timeless fashion, a bit like in Dawson City...













I was not the only interested observer in the premises... Who is the gangsta now




Comfy living quarters overlooking the edge of the desolated world, yo





Sent you a PM. Leaving tomorrow for my last 3 days in Tel Aviv. Then 2 days in Montreal to recoup, refocus, then Part 2 of the winter. Life is good.


Peace

Zombies & Graffitis

Greyish were the Tel Aviv skies today, punctuated by some outbursts of rain and heavy winds…. But it mattered little, as the imminence of Sabbath made the outside weather quite irrelevant. You see, every week, from 4pm Friday and for the ensuing 24h, everything shuts down. To a dead silence. What was once a vibrant city fully engaged in urban activities, becomes spiritless. Like a post-apocalyptic zombie world.

Anyhow, woke up this morning, booked a solid 1500$ win online in 90 minutes, put on my walking shoes, my winter jacket, stepped outside in the streets, trying by all means to remember where my AirBnB was located in this maze of a city, then engaged the desolated length of the afterdead land... If I was going to spend the next 24h indoors, I did want to not only get some food provisions, but - MUCH more importantly - a few snapshots of graffitis







Question : which city offers the best eye-candy graffitis? My guestimate would have to be Montreal, where the city actually pays graffiti artist for certain murals...




In no time, the streets became desolate... similar to an American movie that would use Jerusalem, for instance, as a ideal location for a (bad) zombie movie





Already got my (very rustic) AirBnB chalet booked for Quebec, my flight for the Yukon and a house rented upon arrival in Dawson Things are good, I feel happy, a sentiment that has eluded me for most of my life... It seems as if everything is going very smoothly, naturally, and perhaps more importantly, I am welcoming this ease with no resistance

Just heard echo of a 10-20 game in Lima, Peru ; who would of funked it I am itching to play some live highstakes games, but the logistics around carrying a decent roll, exposing myself to greater thieving EV and having to dump my profits in the lone BTC ATM in Lima, calls for second guessing my egotistical desire to prove myself on the live felt... The cautionary action, would be to simply content myself with crushing 400z online, yet... TBD


Run good all

Airports 101 (AKA GTFO)

- Step outside in the Tel Aviv streets off no sleep at 3am in order to haul over a taxi : Check

- Slightly overpay for the cab, but the ole driver is a nice fellow, so what the hell : Check

- Wait in line for 30 minutes for the WOW counters to open, but nonetheless engage conversation with some friendly Canadians : Double Check

- Have a suspicious strung out-spun-hungover-cold-turkey-with-the-shakes security guard question me : Ehhhhh Check

- Get that little teenage brat security chick to single me out and send me over into the office for thorough investigation : WTF Check

- Manage to flirt/get a smile from the cute Israeli check searching me : Hummmm, Check

- Find a promising exchange kiosk that only has 3% fees to then discover all the underlined commission and all that jazz suddenly deducted from the total : Checkeroooooo

- Avoid losing passport, glasses, electronics or any of those standard mishaps : Mama-Fracking Check Yo

- Fly over Iceland while obviously humming a Bjork song : Check 1-2-3, Check, Check

- Find the most pristine washrooms that any airport has ever offered since the beginning of mankind (think anti-Trainspotting) : Checcckkkk




Iceland at bird's eye







They simply know they have the best washrooms ever


2 days in Montreal to get stuff ready, then Peru, here we come


Run good all

both your threads are amazing dubnjoy, living the dream, good luck in Peru

Free Bird

Find myself much lighter after my Montreal stint - a 6kgs deflation, to be precise -, as my suitcase decided that it had enough of my company/refused to border the Tel Aviv-Montreal flight I mean, I don't hold it against him, as I did mistreat its legs, nonchalantly bounced it around the world, took it to uncharted territories and... well... I get it buddy, I really do This said, His awol action did cost me an effective 800$ (new suitcase, 24 inch monitor, clothes and pharmacy goods) with an additional 1.6k in a potential bad beat if my ole buddy decides to never make it back to Montreal after all…

I don’t know…. I mean, sometimes you got to take some of the blame, right…. Bits and pieces, at least, but not all, of course, still : why did a similar story happen with my mouse…. Why did my little friend, after finding himself on the floor by my utter clumsiness, make a run for it only to end up, guts all open, the victim of a mousetrap…. I mean, some of the guilt has to fall upon me, right…. I do need to look deeply into my relationship with inanimated objects and see where the problem lies…

On a more serious note, it was quite a couple of days of running around Trying to make ends meet, cancel my bank card (stranded in my luggage), purchase cryptos (in Kahnawake, where a good 50 poker tables were running at 2pm on a Monday afternoon #PokerNotDead ), visit the family, and reload in essentials for the second part of the winter, yo Anyhow, back in a few days with some Lima updates.

Thx bro, I can't state enough how I appreciate positive feedback like this




Because we never get old, right


edit : darn, am pretty excited to be here in Peru - like really excited - and my Spanish is stronger than I remembered it to be


Run good all

La Ciudad de Lima

Given that my anticipation of Lima was dim after talking to a few friends/getting some negative feedback on these-here-forums, it probably will not come as a surprise that the capital of Peru managed to surpass my expectations and present itself in a favourable light This said, I am not convinced that the added conveniences of tennis courts, a cinema, ample selection of restaurants/women, access to la playa or live poker, will outweigh the peace of settling down in a small beach town up north... Am probably leaning 70/30 in favour of moving on, but... TBD.














As it is always the case when I communicate in Spanish/go digging cognitively into my membrane - trying by all means to reanimate those alcohol abused cells, shake awake my cerebral laziness or simply avoid plain brain farts -, I am always impressed by how many words in espanol I can recall ... to then be brought back to reality and realize that I still have lonnnnnnnnnnggggggg ways to go Nonetheless, I will be using a TON of tools this time around, namely a private tutor, television (even left on in the background as a subconscious constant intellectual feed), books (probably A Hundred Years of Solitude, which I have already read 3 times in French), Spanish friends ("cough, cough"... a gf ) and a persistence to constantly live en espanol, no a la ingles o Frances

Alright, back in a few days after visiting the casino and Barranco, and gathering more pics, of course


Run good all

End Game

Lago de Atitlan, Guatemala, September 2002. I only have 660$ for the next 4 months. 660$. Canadian. For 4 months. Sigh Finding work/some monies will be mandatory, as will be budgeting for every single half penny spent, ffs Not that I need much help in that area, as I am an expert in the art of hitchhiking, sleeping in parks and making ends meet with less than fragmented quarter pennies

But lest not forget the purpose of this trip. That I came here to find peace. To transcend this HEAVY depression of mine that weighs a GAZILLION tons in the morning, AKA the weight of 1001 lifetimes of suffering stuffed with worlds of pain…. Hence, it matters little if I end up dead broke anonymously agonizing in the streets somewhere, as I will find a cure to this depression. Even if it is in the jaws of death. Go big or never go home.


I have been set back by quite a few mishaps lately. My lost luggage (seems like I must give up hope of ever seeing it again). Finding myself 4kgs physically fatter that I initially anticipated (setting us back a good 2-5 months in the loss-weight department). And add to that a crippling 30k crypto downswing in the past month (ehhhh, quite the blow ). All of which have nonetheless only decreased my happiness by a mere 5-8%, me thinks. Which is peachy, to say the least, quite f**king peachy.

I will be moving to Barranco tomorrow, a bohemian district where nightlife/musica will be predominant. Still have not decided on where to settle down in Peru though…. It went from 30-70 to stay in Lima when I first arrived, to 70-30 yesterday when I strolled into the weekend vibrant streets of Miraflores/hit a few casinos, to back down to 40-60 today. Go figure!!! All this fluctuation done in good nature, obviously, as one can never let so many good options be unpleasantly distracting, right




Sunday gathering by the sea cliffside




Had some delicious food with this magnificent view tonight







#Grafitis 4 Life








Run good all

The Artsy Blues

Barranco is located on the cliffside just beyond Miraflores, likewise overseeing the ocean. Both of the touristic rich districts of Lima are located in the proximity of the sea, which will come as no surprise, obviously.

It is interesting how Miraflores has everything to offer - from restaurants, to casinos, to a cinema, to an outstanding beachside mall etc, -, yet I feel no emotional attachment to the place …. Sometimes, vibes just transcend rationality, something that was made clear to me when I arrived in this artsy little neighborhood that is Barranco (disclaimer : I am more a GTO/ rational poker grinder than a feel player, yet find myself on the other side of the spectrum in life, go figure ).

Side note :

Because I got a date this weekend combined with my desire to yolo/shot take the 10-20 game, I prolonged my stay in Lima until Monday. Probably will hop on a plane and go check out one of Cusco (close to Maccu Piccu, in the mountains) or Trujillo (northern smaller city with a ton of smaller beaches) on Monday though. Whichever I end up choosing, I will not prolong furthermore this "finding a place to settle down for 2 months" search, as I feel that time is ticking irreversibly away, reducing by the minute what remains of my timeframe to learn Spanish with a tutor In the meantime, some graffiti pics, obviously



















This fellow was just here a couple of weeks ago. While I hold no love for Christianity, this man is brave, genuine and progressive in many areas. Much respect


Run good all

Shattering the Limits

Byron Bay, Australia, May of 2000. there are only a few women that I met that had the right survivalist instincts to travel solo. She was one of them. My tall, Rotterdam friend. Distinguished. Elegant. Feisty. And a Graffiti artist, nonetheless. Following my example, she hitchhiked down the east coast from Cairns to come meet up with me. After her arrival, one of our conversations went as follows :

- Me, forever curious : "Everything went well with hitchhiking dear?".

- Her, emotionally detached : "Yup, no sweat".

- Me, fearing that a man would want to abuse her luscious sexuality : "But what if a driver were to force himself upon you?".

- Her, with an unforeseen crass sincerity : "I would let him touch me, I would kiss him, caress him into submission, go down on him and chew off his dick ".

Needless to say, but her answer threw me for a loop Of course, us men think in terms of resistance, fighting off, not in terms of playing along, using our slyness to castrate/byte off a f**king dick But the girl was determined. Independent as frack. A survivor


Like in many 2nd and 3rd countries, the richer districts are tucked behind gated communities controlled by security guards ; with money, you can secure yourself behind bars and keep the outside world at bay ; without money, you are left on the outside, scrambling to make ends meet, clawing your way in the jungle. Don't get me wrong, Barranco is a sweet and vibrant little artsy district, yet the standard configuration of richer neighborhoods in poorer countries can leave one wondering...







All the streets leading to the residences are gated


I have decided to go to Trujillo, up the coast, this coming Monday. I will eventually take a week or so to go to Cusco/mountains, but prefer being close to a beach for now. This said, in the meantime, I have a date tomorrow night, will shot take the 10-20 Friday and enjoy the weekend here

















Run good all

Recently tuned into this thread. The photographs are inspiring (not to mention the life adventure). Love the flashback prose, too! I'm guessing that the travel leads you to a little more deja vu. Chronology is only one kind of narrative, after all.

The Journey

Edmonton, May, 2004. "I took 2 hits", she says, staring far away, her gaze lost into emptiness, followed by a lonnnngggg ensuing silence... A heavy one. One filled with anxiety. Suffering. And lacking in words to describe the unintelligible and arduous journey into the heart of the unknown…. Ayahuasca is no joke.

We met the previous year, when I was hitchhiking from Montreal to Dawson, feeling depressed. She picked me up 4h outside of Edmonton. She provided me with lots of luving - literally and spiritually -, wisdom and fresh laundry. She introduced me to intriguing subjects like Alex Grex and the Animatrix, both of which have stuck with me until this day.

“You know, when I first started practicing vipassana, there was this pain in my legs that I wanted to get rid of, but it never happened.”, she continues, her eyes still filled with that same sadness.

As for myself, I am just coming back from India, I feel I have discovered all of life’s secrets and beyond during my Indian trip…. Yet, much like her, my underlining demons are much stronger than my new found surfaced-level peace.

The next day, I hop back on the Greyhound bus towards Dawson. Never to see her again.


Cusco serves as a base for known landmarks like Machu Pichu, the Sacred Valley and other little villages. It is a city of a million souls, has a nice Spaniard feel to it and acts as a gateway towards numerous adventures.










And one has to eat, right


Since I plan on coming back in this part of the country either in March (if my sister tags along) or in April (once I have my mind off the grind), this was always going to be a short and tentative trip. Nevertheless, having troubles with the wifi came as a blessing today, as I hopped in a taxi and made my way towards Pisaq, a little village in the valley (yet still at 3000m attitude ).








Tbh, I rarely felt as vibrant as I did today in Pisaq - meditation retreats not withstanding. Something about this place overwhelmed me with love, made me feel soooo little and scared as frack in the face of the eternal journey that lies ahead...


Thx bro, I hope all is good in Australia. I do miss your PG & C though, it was such an insightful, well written and honest journey.


Peace All

Loving all the updates, especially in for any ayahuasca related stories.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

Standing Strong

Jasper, Alberta, Febuary 2008. We call him One-Punch-Sam. He is calm. Unassuming. Introverted. A bit on the chubby side. Wears glasses. Basically all the stereotypes associated with your standard geeky-look, yet has this fierce anger inhabiting him. You see, when he was growing up on the east coast in Nova Scotia, his fist snatched him respect. In fact, nobody took him seriously until he started knocking out the toughest known dudes, one by one, like fracking toy soldiers. Insofar as to taking a liking into this violent pursuit. And the reputation that ensued. Until he got a gun shoved into his mouth, that is, popping his "delusion of grandeur" bubble and leaving him breathless in the process But that was then, before Jasper, before we became good friends and took the village by storm

Jasper is your standard ski town with a bunch of 20 something wannabes, freshly out of mommy and daddy's basement, that come here trying to represent. Gangsta style, dog Selling drugs, getting wasted, acting it up in balla fashion (much like the obnoxious hoodie poker pros, come to think of it, minus the violence, of course ) topped with a fake street image to accompany the look. Needless to say, but all 5 of us constituting our little marginal crew, are not fans of Jasper. Not 1 fracking bit. Not me, the French hippie fellow ; Riley, the long hair goth/heavy metal dude ; Alex, our geekish unassuming dishwasher ; Benoit, the excentric and unpredictable French Canadian preppie ; and Sam, of course. Nah, we hate the fracking fake suburban wannabe gangstas here. The "cool" snowboarder attitude. An anger that would clearly manifest itself when Sam decided that enough was enuff

Dick is your standard ski town drug dealer. Big (like 240lbs, or something). Intimidating. Permanently acting it up. And stinking miles away of that contrived coolness that makes you want to puke 1000 times in your mouth. But whatever, the dude provides weed, molly and coke. He is an essential part of every ski town, as obnoxious as he might be.

It is almost last call on your standard Friday night when Sam goes up to Dick and asks to buy some weed for our after hours poker game, yo To which Dick replies "sure", pockets the monies that Sam gives him, condescendingly smiles back and stands there, looking f**king tall and stupid

- "Where's my weed" demands Sam, already tilted, having little to no patience for the fracking shythead that is this waste of white skin.

- "You aint getting nothing" responds Dick, clearly not realizing he is WAY above his league here. In a few drunken split seconds, Sam lines back and sends a perfect jab on Dick's stupid nose... Dick would not see daylight for 10 minutes. Or any light, for that matter. Stone out cold. All 240 lbs of him - and a little more, if you factor in his arrogance - lying on the floor, like the douchebag that he is.

After that night, Dick follows Sam everywhere, showing him reverence and all like a puppy dog As for Sam, he goes on a rampage : in the lapse of a few weeks, he knocks out the biggest pusher in town (who was accompanied by a ton of his crew, all holding knives (and waiting for the 3 of us outside)), gets pulled over by the cops a couple of times and arrested with Benoit for drinking and driving. April can't come soon enough before I hit the road, go back to the Yukon and forever leave Jasper behind me





Only 7 weeks left to this trip, and I feel that I clearly have not accomplished enough... Spanish is dragging along at a too slow of a pace. Things are equally slow on the dating front, with 1 lustful night and a few other failed encounters up to date... And then there is that eternal desire of mine to hit the road, to move on towards new adventures, as not even the artsy vibes of Barranco remain appealing enough to keep distanced from the call of the horizon and its long-lasting promise

When the sun was glaringly shining through my AirBnB apartment windows today, I decided to shut down the laptop, leave the grinding session behind and go engage in the outside world, yo This golden Lima day was as good as any to ponder about what lies next, a month within my Peruvian journey.




Seaside lunch today


Poker : The online grind has been going tremendously well. I am scooping in monies like never before - crushing 400z like its nobody's business, yo -, yet the virtual world has been luring me a little too much with all its glitter, replacing the musical nights, pretty Latinas and vibrant streets of the outside world with the online trap that is the tilting sounds of "hey, it is your turn to act buddy ". This said - all literary narratives put aside -, I have almost reached my Peruvian goal of 25k (which has now become 35k, obviously ) and I can't state enough how my game and results have improved significantly over the past 2 years I am more than grateful. I mean, getting to roam the world with no financial stress whatsoever, is quite the privilege and I do realize to what extent I have been blessed with overall luck . Nonetheless, my present upswing has come at the detriment of other areas.





Spanish : When I found myself interrogated by 4 people successively in Spanish this week (was at a vipassana meditation group sit), I surprised myself by the smoothness and ease of my responses. Of course, when put to the test, our subconscious mind will usually show up for the task, yo This said, I have yet to start my online courses. I spend a lot of introverted moments within myself and thus not practicing. When fatigue becomes a factor, I lose interest and focus in learning the language. So all in all, find myself behind expectations in the espanol aspect of things, but should be fluid by the time I make it to Spain next year





Exercise : Given that I have been taking AirBnBs with gyms, I started running again. Not a lot, mind you, but still significant enough for a middle-age heart yo





Happiness : Have been in a little of a funk in this area. Not a concern, mind you, yet still something to look into. If I would wake up naturally happy when I was in Eastern Europe/Israel, it seems as if I need to navigate through more grey areas of sadness/fatigue over here... Nothing that meditation, stepping outside for walks or rest cannot shake off, but I am forever reminded that the conveniences of an urban environment does not make up for the quality of life I seek. Which brings me to think that I will mostly be hitting the road come next Wednesday... To be continued





Run good all

Crossing Boundaries

Lake Louise, Alberta, Febuary 2000. I am prepping some veggies in the back area of the kitchen of the pizza joint, smoking discretely a cigarette and contemplating existential questions like "what is the purpose of it all" when I hear the bells from the restaurant tingling ; it is Martin, a dreadlock French Canadian hippie that I briefly crossed paths with on Vancouver Island the previous summer. He is eccentric, outgoing as f**k and moves a ton of air with his extroverted presence, all personality traits diametrically opposite to yours truly who finds himself on the other end of the spectrum (dreadlocks, not withstanding) and, alas , falling prey to heavy interiorized anger and depression lately.

Never subtle about his intentions, Martin takes little time before yelling out :

- "Hey bro, you want to buy some weed? I need some cash to get back to Victoria...". I look around, scrutinizing the vicinities to make sure there are no customers in sight... then answer :

- "No man, I'm cool.". I have been moving weight of my own in town, but unlike Martin, my operations remain discrete, involve only a handful of runners who in turn distribute baggies.

- "Ah, ok, I'm strapped man, I got stuck in Calgary for 3 days partying".

I decide to hand over 10$ to Martin, wish him good luck and watch him leave as he hits the road, thumbs up, in the middle of the Albertan winter. I would not hear of him until a couple of years later, when news of his death hit the streets ; the Hell's in Quebec would put an end to his journey, as his eternally outgoing nature got the best of him when he stepped on forbidden turf, selling herb like nobody's business


You always watch your back in Latino cities. Especially when hopping into a taxi. In fact, most of the Lima horror stories involves a cab driver that, unbeknownst to the victim, coordinates a meeting with bandits in an alleyway where the tourist drop off unsuspectedly happens. The prey is then to be held chained up in captivity until his debit/credit cards are cleaned up, however long the daily withdrawal limits may extend this venture. He is then released. I mean, meditation would help tremendously to get by those long hideous moments in such a scenario, but why expose ourselves in the first place, right

Trujillo might not be as big nor populated as Lima (1 million souls), but still remains the 3rd largest city in Peru, which comes with its own dose of necessary precaution. I do believe that the violence in this country is overstated by the locals ; in fact, statistics have it that crimes have decreased significantly over the past decade, but the narrative of Peruvians has apparently not followed suit...




Plazas are intrinsic to Latino cities, acting as public gatherings in the centre of downtown areas


Nonetheless, it feels great to get out of Lima. Not that Trujillo is prettier by any means (I preferred Barranco's or Miraflores's lure, for that matter), but I did get to spend a week in a quiet urbanization (gated neighborhood) within which its tranquility instantly put me at ease Think kids playing in a park. The tweeting of birds. The dead silence at sunset. All seemingly benign, mind you, but all components - AKA the small stuff - that make me ohhhhhh so happy




The neighborhood in question, seen from my bedroom bay window


If Lima was part of an overall initiative to force me out of my comfort zone (living in a massive city as opposed to remote areas), I am henceforth realigning the rest of the trip with my natural inclinations of being in quieter areas, much like Huanchaco





Huanchaco is a surfer's beach town located an odd 14kms outside of Trujillo (also known for being the birthplace of ceviche ). The village is bordered by dunes of desertic sand, has pleasant restaurants, nice graffitis, a general good vibe. After spending an extensive 5 weeks in urban metropoles, this place feels like a sweet little haven After the weekend, I plan on going up the coast and visiting small coastal towns, thus putting an end to any initial plans of settling down






Thx bro. Yeah, an ayahuasca should be quite the journey, me thinks. They also have a ton of San Pedro ceremonies over here (similar to peyotl), but I will stick with ayahuasca, me thinks, a known commodity in the vipassana world for being a similar journey to deep meditation.


Run good all

La Libertad

I realized that the pics from yesterday's post did not do justice to Huanchaco, so I wanted to add a few more, far more representative and colourful, yo I also want to take a few paragraphs to reflect upon what an amazing winter it has been, both in Eastern Europe/Israel and here in South America




The beach in Huanchaco




Pleasant town with great restaurants, some nice night clubs (where I danced away like no tomorrow to reggaeton with a misses) and an extensive stretch of beach


If Europe and the middle-east saw me roam around, play a live poker tournament and engage in an extensive meditation retreat, Peru was meant to be a place for me to learn Spanish and hence force myself out of my comfort zone in my 3rd language. And that I have. A lot. To the extreme Think going on numerous dates where the ladies do not speak a single word in English, leaving yours truly struggling gramatically while gunning to establish a good first impression (and darn, to my surprise, I did a great job of charming, but less so linguistically though ) I mean, it is crazy what results we can garnish by making that extra compliment, going out of our way to speak to a lady, forcing ourselves out of our shell and walking unchartered shores In fact, everyone should go through the process of learning a new language, me thinks : it is reflective, humbling and puts social dynamics/awkward moments into a new perspective One added note : those moments forced into silence given my grammatical restraints, have made me realize to what extent I am at peace with acceptance of limitations. With awkward moments. With forced introspection. Meditation yo








When I look back and think of the countries I have visited, the money that I have made grinding (I have been absolutely crushing the virtual felt like no tomorrow ), the knowledge that I have gain both in Spanish and through meditation, this winter has been a resounding success I mean, there is no way I could of predicted/expected this amazing of a result. It has been quite the journey. And while I do not feel particularly excited about the upcoming 6 months in Canada, I do look forward to returning to Europe in November


Peace

Alternatives

The Yukon, September 2007. We partied hard for my last night of the season… Realllll f**king hard, drinking like no tomorrow even though, alas, the morning had a mind of its own when it showed up bright and too fracking early

We pull over in the gas station in Steward Crossing, a tiny town 2h outside of Dawson. There is only 1 another vehicle in the vicinity and yet, when I get out of the car, I feel the invasive presence of a pair of eyes scrutinizing me

-“Dubnjoy?” I hear the fellow say ; I turn around in his direction, resigned to the fact that I will have to interact with the outside world again…

-“Yeah, it’s me… do we know each other?”.

“It’s JF man, we went to highschool together”. Of all the places to cross an acquaintance you have not seen in 14 years, you never imagine it will be in a vacant service station in a town of 68.5 souls...

Much like myself, JF has made the Yukon his “technically legal" home base while permanently being on the road aboard a yellow school bus with his wife, 3 kids, 2 dogs, mountain bikes and whatever other accessories a young family of 5 needs to survive in the bush. They spend most of their days hiking/mountain biking in the USA west coast/Mexico during their milder winters, while returning to Canada’s west coast for the summers. Both parents work as online teachers, squeezing out a few bucks here and there to feed their yellow beast (and younglings, of course). Quite the Inspiring lifestyle And always great to see that I am not the only from high school that has embraced such an extreme nomadic lifestyle.

Here is an interesting article (read it folks ) describing the lifestyle of the said family : https://mightygoods.com/family-living-in-a-bus/



Unfortunately, the grind/Rakeback goals have tainted a bit too much the direction of my Peruvian trip, something that was alas not originally planned, but just happened. Thankfully though, the OUTSTANDING results have largely compensated for this (at times) frantic virtual pace ; nonetheless, I will be happy once April comes rolling around realigning my life priorities for the likes of favouring ground transportation, visiting remote areas and doing an ayahuasca journey

In the meantime, I am grinding in Cajamarca, a mountainous non-touristic small city with access to ruins and acting as a gateway to the Amazon.




Plaza Das Armas





But relocated on the outskirts of the city, in a pleasant small town nestled by torrential hot springs.








It seems I will be furthermore delaying my trip up to the Yukon, as plans of meeting up with my Spanish teacher in Vancouver/Vancouver Island, combined with my intention of grinding online on the island and perhaps even doing a meditation retreat, have now surfaced My heart…. is… just not feeling the north, atm, thus trying to find any excuse to set hurdles to my annual arctic journey. I can definitely picture myself spending next summer in Europe or something…

Another area of issue, has been the lack of time invested in my novel this winter ; I mean, there is a reason I am updating this thread and my PG & C at a frantic pace. This said, I plan on spending less time grinding this upcoming summer, and more time hitting the keyboard. To be determined…


Run good all

Of Ruins, Cows, Cheeses and Languages

Stepped away from the grind for the lapse of a late afternoon to tour some ruins, waterfalls and a cheese farm. The tour left a lot to be desired, tbh, yet it was good to abandon the virtual realm and go explore the outside world some





My Spanish is coming along dearly, as attested by my overall comprehension of my tour guide's Spanish . He did offer to translate in English, which I happily turned down, especially when putting into consideration the fact that I was the lone Gringo in a group constituted exclusively of Latino tourists (Peruvian and South Americans) I still have difficulty with understanding the chaotic micmac of group conversations, but fare very well in headsup convos - much like poker, mind you -, especially when the other speaker consciously makes the effort of speaking slowly.





My progress has come in strides, especially when looking back at the lol first date I had with a unilingual Peruvian chick in Lima and how badly I fared to communicate. It went a little like this :

Her, speaking frantically (and theatrically ) to herself for both of us : “Always saying “yes, yes” as if you understand, nodding your head away yet you don’t understand a single word”.

Me taking offense to her rapid judgement of my Spanish skills and trying by all means to save face/salvage the date : “I do understand, but why the hell do you have to speak so fast all the time!!! ”.





Needless to say, but that date did not go as desired, with the end result being... well, you know, me and my bed snoozing away like the bachelors that we are A far cry from my most recent date, where I brought my A game, managed to communicate adequately, threw in some humour, some charm which ended in... you know, much better results





Not all locals will notice the amount of effort that you have invested in order to learn their Mother Tongue (or adapt by talking slower, for that matter), but once in a while, you will have a fellow (or lady) compliment you on how you communicate with much more ease than other Gringos Always good to get positive feedback, especially after the migraines that comes with the steep learning curve

I will be heading to Chiclayo next and enjoy some beach time. I know that I should go check out the jungle in Tarapoto being in Peru and all, but…. I …. Just…. don’t…. feel like it, which has been the theme of my South American journey thus far, going at a turtle like pace and constantly changing my plans


Run good all

Today we lost a Dawsonite friend that had relocated out east with his gf and young child. Fentanyl was the beast that took him. He was still in his early 20s. The following entry will differ from my standard posts by being a reflective contemplation.

A Blast from the Past

Nelson B.C., February, 2005. Not only are we located in the dead centre of The Town of Lost Souls, but we have selected the most crass out of the 2 hostels as a home base ; so it should come as no surprise that the core of our crew originates from a street-punky-hippyish kinda vibe, with the hostel owner himself a 40+ years old PCP punk fellow with traces of yesteryears abuse wrinkling his face.

Our activities revolve around dropping acid, doing mushrooms, smoking a few joints etc., nonetheless, most of us manage to indulge moderately in psychedelic journeys (not much more frequently than on a weekly/bi-monthly basis)... except for Sheldon, that is.

Sheldon is one of the few that actually grew up in the Slokane Valley (where Nelson is located), yet still wound up staying with us after his family disowned him... not that we know much about his personal background, outside of some random non-sober muttered references... What we have grown to know though, is Sheldon's completely-off-the-wall-funky schedule : he persistently goes on 3 day trips on whatever substance he manages to put his hand on (usually numerous hits of acid, meth or molly), continuously consuming until his body hits a wall and thus ends up crashing for 20-30h. After which he gets up, puts some food into his tummy, shakes off the rust by socializing for a few hours and then rinses/repeats.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=78Y-v5twoGw

You never knew at what stage of his 3 days Sheldon was on when you stumbled upon his presence... But we all remember acutely the 3 day meth stint where he silently (and in Zen fashion) accompanied our other hiphop/schizophrenic hostel tenant into the heart of a non-stop and nonsensical verbal dementia... Or the time that Sheldon's friends thought it would be a good idea to drop, unbeknownst to him, 13 hits of acid into his beer and watch him be completely obliviated by the otherwordly journey (dude looked like a lost child, unable to speak, to communicate, with his face shrunk in like a mad junkie , a neurotic realm that I would myself experience later on in Dawson when I would ingest an unearthly amount of shrooms ). But all pales in comparison to his Calgary stint.

It is just past noon when I come into the communinal kitchen and see a sober Sheldon. We start shooting the shyt, as per usual, but something seems a bit off today...

- "How are things man?", I nonchalantly ask, trying to dig for info...

- "I don't know man" he says quietly, sighs with a tinge of desperation, and then pursues :

- "I just got arrested in Calgary.".

He had gone to the city to offload some Molly in exchange for a few sheets of acid. The problem is, in between tripping at his buddy's place for 2 days str8 (on acid) and the cops suddenly raiding his friend's apartment, he found himself on the run from da polis, dumping his batch in the process minus a Molly pill which, alas, was found on him once he was detained at da polis station Things did not portray very well for our friend, especially when the cops were forced to hose him down naked as they could not get any response - verbal or physical - out of our stoned-out-of-his-mind protagonist. Sheldon did manage to come back to himself, signal that he was "ok", thus preventing the cops from sending him to the hospital.

I am not sure what has happened to Sheldon since... Or many other kindred-but-lost-souls that I crossed paths with along the journey... I know that I found meditation and left the substance abusing days behind me... Given that I was perhaps one of the most balanced of the bunch at the time, I am not sure what destiny awaited all these soul-seeking camaraderies, but I feel that many have alas moved on from this bottom world... Whatever the case, I am sending lots of to all who suffer, alone in dark corners.

RIP