France

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It was time to stop for the day and I was near Grasse, Provence, a place I had visited while working on the Norman Jewison movie with Michael Caine called ‘The Statement’. The excursion was a weekend getaway with a beautiful woman who’s parents had a home in a field of olives … so when I rode into Grasse, I couldn’t recognize anything and I had no idea where I was going so I rode around until I found a motel I liked kind of, but was turned away as they were full. So I rode around again, kinda lost but enjoying the road and then suddenly I saw a square that I remembered, while leaving Grasse for I don’t know where, just waiting for something to happen. And then I saw a nice little hotel in Mougin, just before the rain. After everything was sorted I asked ‘Do you have any wine? Yes but what would you like? Do you have a menu? No, he answered smiling, what kind of wine do you like? I like good wine for a cheap price. And then his wife said with a tiny drunken drawl and a knowing chuckle, Then you have come to the right place’. I took this picture in the morning when leaving, and was thinking of staying since there was going to be a small wedding ceremony and party but I don’t like weddings. To be honest I was thinking it might be fun to see a wedding I am not a part of, and to maybe chat with a lonely bridesmaid but my bike was calling and so was the road so I left, even after Monsieur kindly asked if I would be staying another night. Oh c’est la vie.

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I was thinking throughout the day, how much this stretch of land reminded me of Argentina, and the Patagonia winds; just as violent but not as maniacally severe. Oh the winds of Patagonia, I remember cursing you inside my helmet, but now, I only think of you as an old girlfriend I once used to love … you can see in the photo below, an airstrip balloon windy instrument thingy blowing almost full at the bottom of the frame ….

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I stopped here to camp, quite by luck for I suddenly wanted to get off the autostrada/ autopista/freeway/fucked if I know/Starship Enterprise portal machine …. and ended up drifting around for a while, a couple hours of checking out villages and hotels and camping and markets and tobacco and everything else, but it was closed, not everything that is. So I moved on again, with plenty of time to find something to meet my surfaced needs, going round and round, enjoying the stares, comments and waves of the hands saying ‘Hey?! Are you crazy, or are you lost?! …. no say, you?’

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And then I ended up here, which would be impossible for a car, and illegal for a bike. The couple who run this hotel reminded me of my friends in Calama, Chile; Javier and Gladis, and so I am here again, maybe, I don’t know really for how long, but at least for the night ….

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… a beautiful brisk sunny morn; locals meandering through rows of old things for sale, seagulls calling out names, winds howling through cracks, wagging dogs sniffing Sunday’s stroll ….

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Excerpt from journal …. ignorance is bliss, though philosophically I don’t know, I don’t know about ignorance, says a full moon unaware of waxing and waning. Somebody should give that big ol’moon a mirror to look at, sang a song bird so voluptuously. Nobody can do that declares a fool on the hill, nobody, unless the roll is just right. We can do it cried the ants, we can do anything! Maybe so, but how will you know if the moon can see at all asked a whale, searching for giant squid at the bottom of the sea. Well first off said a monkey in a tree, you would have to get man to build a mirror big enough to hang up there. Isn’t that typical to say wondered a caterpillar on it’s way. Why don’t I be the mirror exclaimed the water, splashing around with glee’d excitement. The thing is, and what you all clearly don’t comprehend is that I can see you down there, going about your business like little stars zipping around all crazy and stupid, and to tell you a moon’s honest truth, I don’t think any of you know how I can feel the shadow’s light of the sun falling upon me all daysnight long for you all live in different worlds, and don’t understand such simple pleasures. Yes we do yes we do they screamed back! Well if I may interject respectfully, concluded the sun, we all have much to learn.

ClickHereToListenToTheHours

The first night I checked into this hotel, madam said two things that struck me; one was that it was always windy in Le Grau d’Agde, and if it wasn’t it would be raining and two, this place will be like a ghost town come Monday, since the season was now over. And so with an excited morbid thirst I had almost decided then that I would be staying until Monday, but would wait and see in any case.

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Lido owns this restaurant a few doors down from the hotel. He himself had spent a lot of time in South America, and would be someday opening a restaurant in Peru he fancied, and I believe him. Anyway, I found myself closing the place at around 12am, with he and Saba featured in the photo below. It was so much fun to sit and talk while they did their closing duties, like I’ve done myself for so many years, and in my friends bars and restaurants all over this great big diner.

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Monday morning came and it was cold but still, no wind and sunny with all the people almost gone, I heard from my open window. Wow, it’s true! (well almost true for it wasn’t raining, and some people were still here) The phone rang beside my bed while I was lying under the covers contemplating my senses, it was madam, ‘Are you going or staying? Can I get a special price if I stay? You can have 10%. Okay I’m staying. click She’s an interesting woman Madam, Dutch, with an Italian husband, both French and Spanish, but she’s Dutch when she speaks of everyone is free to be warm from the sun, and that she can see the whole world from behind her reception desk, having grown up with her parents in hotels here and there, looking at all the strangers coming and going probably thinking, ‘Look at those shoes … look at that luggage … where are they going from or coming to?’ That’s why she asked when I had first arrived, ‘Have you been to all those places that are on the side of your bike?’ How did she do that I was thinking, I was only here for a couple of minutes before I walked inside. She’s a woman that hasn’t got a second for me unless I’m listening, and she can sense when I’m not, as if she doesn’t like me or trust me or better yet, knows exactly who I am. So she says, ‘… I have seen so many people come and go she says with those big bluish green eyes, this one couple from Senegal, they wanted to braid people’s hair out front of the hotel, I said I am not your boss do as you please, so they did she said, and then Madam started calling her friends to bring their children over to have their hair braided for 20 Euros, but one day we will sell this place even though my husband does not want. And then what I asked? We will travel to see the world, but I didn’t believe her. I don’t know why I don’t, I just don’t. I think they will stay here, or there but they don’t need much. They are true to nature, and they don’t need much at all, except what they do with themselves of course, while her husband contentedly watches another boat drift by.

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Excerpt from journal …. so the older Dutch couples say to me in the lobby of this simple, quaint hotel by the sea … ‘May all your dreams come true’ as we said good-bye’s for they were leaving early in the morning, ‘Yes thanks, and you too’ I meant, thinking but wait a minute, ‘They are!’, so I said poking my head back in the door before leaving for a drink at the cool ass bar down the road, and she said, ‘Yes I knew this already too!’. Later and within the company of new and interesting people I was thinking about what she said before wondering, ‘Is it true?’, but then I was distracted by the Algerian one thinking, ‘She is delicious’, and then I thought about a picture I had taken so many times before, ‘How can they do that over and over and over again all the time those same two people for years and years without getting bored and disinterested and lonely and sad all over again with vehement hearts all pissed off about the smallest of things everyday and everynight the same useless grievances over and over again? What is it I don’t understand about society’s grasp on things? Sigh sigh sigh …. how do they decide what to eat and when to do it, where to go and when to leave? Oh sweet lumbering ignorance how I love you.

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ClickHereToListenToRadiohead

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What is it about a fluttering butterfly that is so alluring, or a hummingbird or a sloth? How can they move in such ways, all backward and different and silent, moving like centipede’s crossing an ocean over lands and sea? And why do we think of such things under the guise of a notion, pretending not to see such inexplicable beauty such as thee? Well I suppose if you wanted to really know you would’ve figured it out by now wouldn’t'ya boy, said the man inside. Yeah I suppose I admit stupidly thought the boy, for I don’t really know what I think, all I do is wonder about things, places and some people, and well, I don’t really know what I think do you? Nope. No sense in knowing, this is ignorance my boy, this is what the little cup everyone is looking for is holding, a cup of nothing designed to enlighten thee by a few years, to make you younger while you are getting older, to make you feel like the same weak animals you see fluttering about like the butterfly, hummingbird and the sloth; this is the beauty my friend, this is what sees what is truly seeing ….

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Ohhhhh man …. I just sit here listening to the sea climbing over itself, with Phillip Glass and The Hours, watching people staring at the beauty of simple nothingness, vendors building tiny castles before tearing them down, trawlers and gulls together making a clock, I feel mystery’s talking all around see, wondering what could they mean or where are they from listening to bells ring in the distance from some ears I was given once not so long ago on centre field under the darkness of England that wonderful night I wasn’t already there for. How is it all possible, this big beautiful world not so far from another one hopefully around the corner?, thought the woman wearing a light coloured coat standing next to the blue yellow sea, ‘And when will that Mr. Henderson finally clean up that rubble by the boat? she thought while thinking to buy some milk for her tea. Oh yes! I have finally arrived within completeness I was thinking, that’s it there right before my eyes, couldn’t be more clear or deserving I thought conjugating some verbs, ‘What was it I was thinking?’ Oh merde …. if only I could remember the basic form I could write such things even I would remember what I was thinking thought the dog by the pole leaving his scent wishing it was a tree. ‘What’s that dog doing there? thought a cat in the alley behind a defense, nothing as usual, just barking and barking like a cat caught in the rain, in a glad it’s not happening to me kind of way it said purring from some delights of something once said but not happening just now thankfully, I confess I do, the cat was heard saying scaling a tree, I do but I won’t, as it leapt to another branch in the air meowing ‘Not me!’ Actually, that’s what it is! …. I can see myself here making as many friends of friends in facebook as I can imagine without meeting anyone again, even while I am away, even though I long for my old friends I will not see someone away or here in front of me, and though and regardless, I am happy to see you all here again ….. …… ……… .. .. . . . . . . . . .. ……………………………………………………………….. Note to self: I must get on the bike and go now …. that’s just it isn’t it, I thought before knowing where the keys are always hiding in those rotting boots …. that’s just it, I must go …. are you ready I think to myself, are you sure? I’m as sure as I’ve ever been said the man inside the boy. So vamous, you’re wasting my time said Time to me this day I stand still and wonder …. holy fuck Time, you’re a pain in the ass … always talking all the time …. I thought while looking to the west, dreaming of a woman all wrapped up in thoughts squirming to get see’d, all crimson and berry, all melancholy true, I see you there pontificating by the lake, your silhouette all black and through, wishing for places you’ve never found, looking for answers under a tree, is it crazy or is it true? I see you there and wonder what love you make, for the few of us standing here alone in this great big world, pondering oceans staring at waves, while wondering how it looks ….

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The other day my brother asked if I’d heard from Scott lately. Not since I was in Africa and he in Turkey, I said. And then Adam added, He has pictures posted. Pictures? Really, Scott has pictures posted? So I went online and saw them there, posted pictures from my buddy Scott who hates to post pictures, well let me re-phrase that, he hates to be in the places he has to load pictures from. Wow, look at those pictures. Oh no a puncture on that boiling hot road, hey who’s that, look at that view, what kind of tyres are those, oh wow what a trip! And then I was thinking I can’t believe I started on this trip with him, and he’s, he’s done. Oh no he’s finished, that’s the end of the line right there, he even said, that’s the end of the line right there. And that sad picture above, which I borrowed from your Facebook but please don’t sue me, at least until I get back. Well not sad but deeply profound, the bike inside there, the horse inside the barn all weathered and worn, eating and resting for the night, with Scott’s riding shirt hanging on the crate all worn with thousands of miles of dirt from all over the world, his famous Gingam shirt right there; a living icon for people that know Scott. And then I thought, oh wow, he’s done, and I’m here in France still meandering along. Oh no I felt such guilt suddenly, what am I doing here still, waiting until all the money is gone? Oh no, I’m all alone now, not that it matters since we were miles apart before we finally split in Costa Rica, wow it’s over, he’s finished the trip. Then I got panic stricken for myself in the future, probably the same men in the picture will be sealing me up inside the crate, finished, all done. Oh that’s gotta be weird. And now what is Scott doing? Where is he I wonder? Oh man I need a beer, this is all so strange to me just now. Every place, every country, every road, every day; yes please, fill the tank with gas, fuel, petrol, nafta, benzena, how many miles, where to go next, which road do I take, what’s around that corner, who is that what’s your name what’s leaking there how much is that where am I where is this and who are you and how do you like that, he’s done. I have an idea Scott, when your bike arrives on the other side, put it back together and come round again, I’ll probably only be as far as Germany by the time you get here. Congratulations Scott, I hope to get there too, suerte! Hey wait a minute, we didn’t bet 20 to see who would get there first did we? (someone I trust said what I just said was harsh but I didn’t mean this at all, it never crossed my mind, I just marvel at how it all takes place and is what is, and how it all works, just like the trip Scott has had that one day we’ll get to talk about with a fondness not many will relate, and I with he, this is all I was thinking. It’s all part of the process … a week ago I was learning from Jan The Flying Dutchman what it’s been like for him after two plus years on the road, starting yet another new life again, but this time in his world, kinda like working on a movie, signed up for the commitment, all serving every hour until the last roll has spun, that world you come out from, into your own again is startling, I remember Scott consoling me after the series in Edmonton a couple years back, when all our plans started surfacing, he said, you’ve spent a lot of time working on this show Markus, and now you are a prisoner out of prison, you have to feed yourself, you have to decide when to wake up, and you have to fill up your own tank, don’t worry, you’ve only been out for a day, you’ll figure it out. So let’s go on a trip around the world hey buddy! On Motorbikes! This is what I mean ….

Excerpts ….

Bunts,

FYI Ethiopian visas are not currently being issued from the Nairobi office to overland travellers of all nations except Kenya. If you are planning on heading north from Kenya (which is your only option) you need to try and get your Ethiopian visa in a country other than Kenya.

I trust all is well, over and out

Thanks Scott,

I’ll check into it. Where did you get yours from and where the heck are you? I keep wondering if we will run into eachother one day. I am in the transkei, heading up and over to Gabarone.

4

I repeat, where are you? Is everything okay? If you didn’t get your Ethiopian visa from Nairobi then how and what did you have to do? Go back to Tanz? I trust you are well but would like to make sure ….

Markus

Bunts,
I’m in Khartoum. I got my Ethiopian visa in Harare. I am rarely checking email. I’m going to try and head to Mongolia via Saudi Arabia and Iran, bypassing europe altogether.

Now what are you going to do? What about the Iran sanctions? I was also planning to do the same thing if I didn’t stay in Europe to work.

Markus

Get Sudan visa in Nairobi, only takes 2 days.
I am in cappadocia.
S

Turkey – Russia – Mongolia – Home

You must be in Mongolia by now! Are you still out there? Did you get
an email from Suzanne regarding carnet and South Africa? I saw your
name above mine, for SA was trying to make a claim with both of us I
think. I am in Lucca, Italy.

Markus

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So after my five night binge of complete freedom inside the beautiful village of Le Grau d’Agde by the sea, all days and nights, reading, writing, sleeping and the rest … I left in the morning after saying good-bye to Madam, though Monsieur and I had nothing to say, for we couldn’t speak to each other but we knew one another respectfully just the same.

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So into the fields of Southern France at Harvest Time …. Récolte

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Riding along, I could smell wine in the air, cheese and my favourite, manure.

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… and to Le Domaine de Cazaban, invited by Pierre and Diane, from the boat ride to Venice from Alexandria. It’s a family affair; their son Clement and Claire make the vineyard, Mylene the daughter and Arnaud too, with incredible Edgar their son who is only two and a half and can talk with so many words, ride a mini-quad backward and forward and has the power of two speeds on no level ground, he learns English as quickly as I can drink a beer, actually faster, and Mad the Grandmother’s subtle grace spread all around the room, birthed Diane into this world some time long ago, also helps out during this time everyone is waiting for, the harvest. My timing was good, though I must admit Diane held the key saying in an email, ‘We’re harvesting now, this is the most exciting time of the year!’. And she was right.

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I don’t want to get into a whole moment by moment picture description of things, for I don’t think it’s necessary. Though I will say this; I was taken in as part of a family, like all their friends, workers, relatives and clients. It’s all a great supportive family business producing superb organic wine, and every year growing more and more rapidly especially with the critics. And my oh my, did we work, eat, drink and sleep well.

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I kept saying, ‘Edgar is only two and a half years old, are you sure?’ Stepping forward, after the Harvest Celebration to follow the next evening, Edgar and I had imaginary Shark fins, Turtle poop and Grouse feathers for desert. He was most keen, what a mind.

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They converted this old 16th century home into two modern apartments, and they also have two or three more in the main building. I had so much room in mine, well it’s not an apartment it’s a house for a family with many kids.

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Here I’m riding on the back of the quad with Jean Philippe who is telling me stuff I don’t always understand, and hopping aboard anyway to see what we will do next. He’s really a builder but as I said before, everyone chips in to get the job done during Harvest Time, for everyone knows how important it is to go when it’s time to go. Brilliant!

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…She’s the one in white, and he’s the one in black ….

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I learned a lot about wine and still I know nothing. As Clement says, who is the Sommelier, ‘These are my children, and every year I see them grow and respond to my loving care’. They have 15 hectares of land, with vines as young as three years old to 70 years. The Mengus family are a talented and hard working intelligent family. Oh and did I mention that Clement raced in the Dakar a few years ago in Africa, with his father Pierre who drove and maintained the support vehicle! Actually that reminds me of a story Clement shared …. he said he was so tired after the seventh day of the race he actually fell asleep while racing along a road, waking up to find himself struggling not to crash as he went down a five metre drop. He managed not to crash turned around, and drove back up onto the road while witnesses were standing shocked and amazed.

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After an amazing time with the Mengus family, and after yet another good-bye, I headed for the Pyrenees to break in the new tyres propely. If any of you find yourself in the area, stop in and enjoy the peace and beauty of this place, while tasting fantastic wine. Here is their website ….
C’estLe DomainDeCazaban

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After riding out of the Pyrenees, I ended up by the sea riding around contemplating whether to stop in this beach side community, but the emptiness of it all, with an amusement park still open but with no children for the season is almost over if not finished already, I doubled back up into the fresh, clean air of the Pyrenees.

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And here comes another easy border crossing, done, now I’m in Spain just like that.

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