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Published: April 2nd 2012
I suggested a doubt, that if I were to reside in London, the exquisite zest with which I relished it in occasional visits might go off, and I might grow tired of it. JOHNSON. " ... No, Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford."
I don't know where or how to start. I guess I should first tell you what is behind it, but I can really say where it started. Well, I mean. It started from a dream and a decision. A dream of freedom. An easy decision. Again, I learned that the hardest picks are most of the time, the obvious one.
I did not sold everything and left. Neither I save money for the trip of my life. I left for Mexico thinking I was going there for a week or two. I end up quitting my job via Skype in Central America (By the way, when I phoned them, I was already supposed to be back at work for two months... sorry) and I never looked back since today.
I will one day blog the two years I
spent in Central and South America, Africa and Oceania. It changed my life. I caught the travel bug in Mexico and by the time I reached Panama, no one could do anything about it. I was damn to live with it. It is all ending today, but I couldn't think of a better place to check out.
London is a city of contrasts, humor, oddness and creativity, cheerfulness and glumness, poverty and wealth, boorishness and knowledge, youthfulness and oldness. Where style, age and origins mix like nowhere else. Where having a pint in a pub is a history class. Where walking in a park on a rare sunny day is a sociology class. And where going into a museum is a world tour.
I am drinking in my favorite London Pub. I was here yesterday and the day before. Some of the older guys at the back are looking at me with a question mark in their face. They are probably coming here every afternoon for the last 40 years drinking the same thing at the very same table. I am about to leave when one of them is walking to me.
Hold on son,
he says. A pint for the young lad John.
Thanks sir, I respond quickly trying not to start laughing (I can help, but think of a chinesse caracter).
He speaks, well I don't know what language he speaks.
Whe you humm? He says.
Seeing that I have no idea what he is talking about, he repeated.
Wheerre are youuu humm?
Oh... I'm Canadian sir. I answer a bit shy.
He takes me by the shoulder and push me to his table where his friends, who are all well over 60 years old are looking at me like they want to see through me.
They only let me leave when they thought I was drunk enough. They told me it was not good to walk too straight leaving the pub. Good manners they say. I will remember this afternoon forever. It is hard to forget getting pissed with four old bump in a quiet pub of London on a Thursday afternoon you are telling me... It is sure not something that happens often in your life, but it was truly special. They sat there asking me questions and begging me to
explain the best I could what I was doing in my life, where I traveled to and what was the next step in my life as they say.
The next morning I am on the plane I fear for so long. I don't want to go, but I know its time. Thanks: Marjolaine for pissing me off enough for me to want to go to Mexico. Chloé for being with me half of my journey. To all my host. Using couchsurfing in the last year made me realise so much. To all the Australians I met and help me stay cool with their laid back style. JP for helping me so much when I started this trip in central America. To the million people I met in hostels along the way. You made this trip special even if I only spoke to you 10 minutes waiting for a computer. To all my friends from home who told me to go for it and live my life. Jonas for taking me under your wing in Connemara and bringning me to the craziest music festival I have ever been in your hometown. JP, Guillaume and Nadege for hosting us three years in a row in Paris. You got to come see us in Canada one day. Louis for being my wing man during the St Patrick in Dublin and becoming a good friend along the way. Jana for the wildest wall search ever. Tom and your family for the best fish and chip I have ever ate. Chloe's mom for the vacation in the vacation in Italy. The Russian workers in Macedonia who gave me a ride when I had just found my way out of the wood after 8 hours walking and freaking out. Guillermo for hosting us during the Carnaval of Rio. Man you are a legend. Florian for being the best travel hair maker in the world. The bunch of crazy people I spent a week in Corfu with. Charles and Martin for a random rood trip in Spain. The Olympic torch relay crew who paid me to travel and spent with me some of the best days of my life. Finaly, thank you to everyone I met during this journey. You are now part of what
I am. Thanks Nick
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