Those who leave

We never really come back from a long expedition. Or maybe we do. For some. But nostalgia, as small as it can be, never turns itself off.

There are those who inevitably go on, who keep on traveling once you're home. Like that girl I met four days before the end of my own adventure. She was in the first week of six months of exploration.

And there are those others who look at you with eyes wide open when you say you haven't been home for months. They're jealous and believe they can't do the same. Or they face too many obstacles.

Then you have those who write to you to ask how you did it. Write back again to say they are planning their own round-the-world trip. And, like my friend Ben, who I met in Japan, they start their own blog to keep in touch with their friends and family.

Ben is leaving in less than a week. For six months. And I can see myself, one year ago, just about to jump. The unknown staring at me. Knowing my adventures would bring me far away from where I thought I would go.

I smile thinking of Ben embarking on his own journey. And I'll follow him with a lot of interest.

What advice could I give him? Plan a little. Not too much. Be open and go with the flow. Try new things. Get to know people. They might be the best friends you'll ever know, even if for only a few hours. Embrace the lows. They are moments to regroup. Accept what you can't change. Don't let fear get the best of you, but listen to yourself when you get that feeling you should stray from your path... Have fun, and if you can, stop in Cambodia for a least a couple of days.

So there are those who are leaving, and those who already understand that feeling. Those who make us feel better when we believe nobody shares our way of seeing the world. So I found that post, which I recommend you read if interested in how traveling affects you. It's called Date a boy who travels.

A simple goodbye to Africa

Cape Town, South Africa

There was no way we would let our last day in Africa go without making the best out of it. The optimists thought four hours were all we needed to go from Wilderness to Cape Town. Me and my friend woke up at 6 AM to bring back the car where it belongs.

We're still debating to see if we should be proud of it or not, but we litteraly "opened" a McDonald's like others "close" the bars. For breakfast. Because no other options. No time to lose : the road ahead was long enough.

In the end, it took five hours, maybe more, to reach our destination. After the third "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go", rain started to fall. Hard. Well, not that much. But enough for the radio to ask drivers to stay home. Several accidents had already happened and were blocking the roads in the big city. It felt like a big snowstorm in Quebec. For a simple rain shower.

Anyway, the wheather situation, with temperature going down, was reassuring about us missing out on the expedition to Robben Island. We would have been miserable had we gone. My shoes, the only pair in my bag, were still damp from the day before. Nothing to help.

So we spent the last part of the day eating, comparing the price of items we bought to see if they were cheaper in the souvenir shop or after we negociated with locals (generally, we saved money. Woot!) and visiting District 6 museum. One needs time and a taste for reading to appreciate the museum... When we got out, while we had paid for our parking, a street guard tried to get some money out of us. We couldn't leave Africa without escaping a scam.

But that was not the end of the adventure for us, who were a little short on time to give the car back and make sure my copilot would catch his plane. Yes, yes, yes, a big traffic jam on the highway. And... yes, yes, yes, the fuel sign lit to tell us the Ferrari was thirsty, right there, in the middle of a sea of cars. You know, when you really don't want to see what happens when you run out of gaz and need to search for it while driving to the airport.

With stress on our mind, we fueled the car and got to the rental desk on time. We still needed to clean the car (two guys, two weeks, a car... See the picture?). Anyway, we had time to eat a snack and to dry my shoes before we split.

The copilot disappeared for the security controls while the check-in counter for my flight was still not open. I saw my friend's plane take off before I could finally get rid of my luggage.

Boarding the KLM plane, after having three hours to kill on my own, I had that strange feeling I would be back soon on the african continent.

And for those wondering, yes, we got the picture from the photo radar. Speeding on the South African highway didn't go unnoticed.