Stowinski National Park, at Lake Dolgie, 08-07-2001. I'm cycling through essentially rural land, sparsely polpulated with tiny hamlets that have a centuries old feel to it where small eateries were filled with hard bare breaking working class farmers quickly finish off tasteless looking food and whose hapless and crude clothes and often dull look in sometimes young but already wrinkled faces due to much time outside on the land, tells me all there's to know about their harsh excistence, about their meagre incomes. I now cycled along the Baltic coast, through a lake area set in massive and age old fine forests. This being a sunday means I get overtaken by old trabants and dented German Volkswagen cars covered in thick layers of dust that make me wonder just how ancient they really are. Big blueish ... read more

Inside Wolin National Park, 06-07-2001. My legs look like bloody stumps full with swellings and scratches, little bloody bites and lots of red spots. I have got to give it to them...Polish mozzies aren't anything but persistent...up and down my uncomfortable legs go on the pedals of my bicycle. I'm well on the way now to the Baltic Sea cycling through fields full with crops, the air heavy with the odour of ripe corn ready to be harvested. Small patches of temperate forest that seems to become more prominent the further north I cycle, and temperate forest slowly giving in to pine, small and bigger lakes with white swans, ducks and coots, blue colored king fishers diving into the water and emerging in mere seconds with a fat catch. The religious catholic nature of the Polish ... read more

Close to Trzebiez, 04-07-2001. There is an exodus of german holiday makers overtaking me on the road to the Polish border, European made mobile homes and Volkswagen cars containing whole families with bored children whose days is brightened up by the sight of me on my rusty old lady, tent and sleeping bag tied to the back, bicycle bags with spare parts, some clean clothes and my cherished sketchbook. I see them again at one of the next Rastplätze where the family has set up camping tables and plastic chairs, relaxing themselves like they gonna stay the night, their kids storming over when I disembark painfully from the hard saddle, stiff upper leg muscles giving me a hard time unbuckling them. The family's dog in hot pursuit barking like there is a wild boar in sight. ... read more

Holand, Amsterdam. The Buddha pendant hanging on my chest is burning a hole in my flesh no doubt trying to warn me I'm on the wrong track. I'm not supposed to be here on this old and rusty boat with Little-Shit-Richard and Rob. Still having a boat excursion around the canals of Amsterdam is every tourist's dream and even a hot item among the local populace. The Heineken beer coming out of this green colored bottle is gliding down my thirsty throat just fine while we manoeuvre through small little canals lined by houseboats and small water craft, a heron eyeing us curiously while coots swim away in front of the boat. The still early morning is crisp and a grey fog is making it difficult to discern details, Rob is blattering away in his heavy ... read more

Thailand, Pattaya, 13-03-2009. I wake up early morning to the soft noices originating from my bathroom where Joy is busy doing her laundry using my shampoo as a make-do detergent while whistling a Thai love song. I seem to remember finding her in front of my hotel, The New Star when I returned from Walking Street - the place to go at night in Pattaya when you fancy a bit of action - her big blueish colored left eye a dead give-away that she had another serious bout with her Small-Bestowed-Austrian-Tilak. If this was Holland I would need to have a serious getting together with this crazy Austrian sh*t but I don't like another stint in a Thai jail... I seem to remember Me-Fell-Off-Motorbike-While-Mau waiting across the road as well. I met her earlier in Walking ... read more