Conflict on the road to growth

It wasn’t all bubbles and buttons, though. Lily and I had our share of conflict. I suppose it’s natural, when any couple spends every single moment together, waking and sleeping, never being apart for longer than a bathroom break – especially with the added stresses of traveling. Yet it must be mentioned that our greatest attraction – each others’ strength – was also the source of our greatest conflict.

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The Vélorution

Amsterdam wasn’t just coffeeshops and bikes to me. For me, Amsterdam was where I felt like I really joined the Revolution.

This revolution – it’s not in the history books yet, but (more…)

Society’s Waste: Living Free

When Lily came to Casa Robino, I was breaking in my new Dutch army-surplus boots and thinking about hitting the road soon; but that all changed in a flurry of excited heartbeats. I quickly found myself under an intensifying joyous magic spell; with a huge grin that wouldn’t leave my face, a sponanteous kiss on the dancefloor, and a potent infusion of soul-feeding, life-embracing energy, it was clear that our paths lay together.

Life began to sparkle and shine like never before.
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Amsterdam: the bike dream

The sky is contoured, like a topographical map suspended in an ancient cosmic dome. Puffy white mountains move at the rate of eons, roiling slowly, imperceptibly, across a great ocean of sapphire crystal blue, adamantly driven by condensation-drenched forests of darkening matte gray.
As you step onto the streets of Amsterdam, (more…)

The Netherlands: Once Upon A Time

Once upon a time, I had a solid group of friends and family around me on a regular basis. I saw the same folks, more or less, each day of my life. It was nice – it’s a great feeling of security. It’s comfortable.
Nowadays, however, (more…)

Scotland: bike touring in the winter

I stood saying goodbye on the windblasted deck, as the engines sluggishly turned over and began to push us out to sea. The railing vibrated gently as the gulf between the ship and the dock became wider. I was leaving a piece of myself behind; cutting off and pushing away. Committing another sad sayonara.
A dull melancholy sank itself upon me, as the lighthouse slipped farther and farther away. I’ve always loved Ireland, but never really knew anything about it. Now I’ve got a reason to love it, and it wasn’t easy leaving.
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