In a world where independent travel has become a sport, a commodity enjoyed by millions; where for a few clicks on easydzhet or travelosity, flights to far away places can be ordered like any other consumerist good and have become substitutes of sorts for switching channels on television; in such a world overland travellers -walkers, bikers and hitchhikers-, are the last true adventurers.
About the title of this blog
The title of this blog is a joke. I saw this sentence on children's T-shirts being sold on festivals in Russia and thought it might be a provocative and funny title. A degree of self-mockery and irony is implied.
About my Travels
The first time I experienced travelling like what I thought it would be when I was a kid, was when seeing the sun set rosily over huge dunes, when traversing the Sahara on my first trip far away.
My favorite places are the arid interiors of the African continent, Mali and Burkina Faso; the green remote highlands of Interior Guinea and Sierra Leone; the places that never fail to stun with their dramatic scenery like some parts of Turkey; and the infinite warmth that is bestowed on you by the people of the cold barren countries of Belarus and Russia.
But, for me, it is the fierce beauty of the Kurdish mountains that beats all.
Some of the best moments I have passed were drinking mint tea with the goat and camel herders in the Mauritanian dessert; discussing politics with human rights activists in Teheran, their eyes alive with the spunk and spite inspired by their repressive regime; or simple punk concerts in the squats of Poland.