One for the Road? Season 2 Teaser

True to the tradition, here’s a little description of my environment.

I’m writing to you in my parents’ backyard, a nice little apartment on a quiet street in NDG, near bars and restaurants. I am in the shade, under this dome of vines, with my foot petting the family dog sleeping under the table. The air is fresh and construction not too far from here breaks the silence and the birds’ melody (and my concentration, already pretty feeble).

Good morning, good evening dear friends. I know, I know, it’s been a while since I’ve written. The reason is simple: Route means Road and since my return last year, I’m pretty sedentary. Also, I found myself writing heavy stuff. Sad stories, bitching… it’s depressing! This is not how I viewed the blog when I started it almost 2 years ago!

I decided to wait, to exercise patience, and to get back at it only when I felt ready. I was expecting to lose a few dedicated readers, what with not being any updates for months at a time.

Now D day is approaching, the first step on a path that I am undertaking without any maps, kind of like last time. This time however, I do have a few objectives in sights. We’ll talk about it another time.

Some details: since I’ve been back last April, I’ve been sorta quiet. I had a plan in mind: pay off my debts (plane tickets bought on credit cards) as fast as I could, work like a maniac, not spend a dime, and be gone before winter. I gave myself 6 months to respect a promise made to Mr. Ken, my Laos brother.

Today I look back at this and laugh… it wasn’t a very realistic goal!

Oh well. 16 months after my return and I’m finally ready to leave. To everyone who have nomadic friends, and who are telling them: “You’re lucky, you can leave whenever you can, you’re free!”… Well, it’s not done with luck, it’s done with willpower. I stayed at my parents 6 out of the 16 months in Québec (being 30 years old, it kind of hurts your ego). I rented small rooms. I worked 3 jobs in an industry I’ve never worked in before. I slept alone in 7 different rooms. I sold some of my stuff and stopped myself from buying new stuff. I was a little bit more quiet than usual, I became a little bit more grumpy than in the past. I think I grew apart from my friends a little bit, but it’s finally done: the budget is reached, my minimal preparations complete. I’m ready to go.

I heard a few times – more often than last time – questions like why am I leaving again, why am I going to the same spots, what don’t I like here, have you thought about your future? WHADAYAWANNA DO IN LIFE?

Well, yes, of course I think about it. I can’t sleep at night because of it.

Thinking about it, the moment I’ve been the most happy in my life was during these 6 months exiled, up until when I came back - too early for my taste – because of small health issues. I don’t know if it’s my ego talking, but I just have to go back, and do it even bigger this time.

I must admit that I am pretty jealous of legendary Bruno Blanchet, with his books, upcoming tv show, poutine restaurant in Bangkok (he’ll tell you it’s not his, but still!)

To stay motivated with my budget goals I took my dear British friends’ date of wedding as the main goal, these friends whom I met in Chiang Mai, Thailand – with who I travelled for 3 months and with who I connected so seamlessly. I would tell myself, if I’m happy here, I’ll go to the wedding and spend 2 weeks in England and I’ll come back. If I don’t feel like staying home, I’ll buy a one-way ticket for London and we’ll see from there. 

To me, it’s no use obsessing over a single goal. Life changes, people change, we change. Better to adapt than to dig in.

Next, I explored other options. I obtained a work visa for New Zealand. I thought about moving somewhere  else in Canada. I almost invested in a small restaurant. All sort of things but in the end, with my shifting mental health I decided that finishing the trip I started 2 years ago was the best solution.

So here’s the conclusion: I have a one-way ticket for Leeds, in the north of the British Empire, where reside Jen & Ben. I will be there for 3 weeks. Then, 1 ticket one-way from London to Beijing, where I will be stocking up on gadgets compatible with the power outage of Asia (cameras are cheaper as well). From there I will be making my way towards Vietnam in the south, where I am planning on buying a motorbike that I will ride all the way to Malaysia, all the while writing to you. Because even it’s just a small project, Bière de Route, the tiny blog started clumsily on a bench park of Mont-Royal street is what gave me the most satisfaction up until now. I can’t share with you the nice messages people wrote to me, encouraging me and thanking me but it pushes me to keep going, to make it better.

That’s the basics, open to change. I can’t wait. 

Before like that however, there’s going to be a nice BBQ in Parc Lafontaine, Saturday the 16^th of August, so don’t be shy and come grill some hot-dogs and down a few cold ones!

See you soon! 

Don Det Notes, Continued

With my last post, Bière de Route (Road Beer) blog just went past 7,000 views! I would celebrate with a Lao-Lao shot...

I was supposed to call Ken today at 8pm (8am one day in the future for him) but Skype wouldn't open... Bo pa nyan.

Without wasting further time:

Friendship Bracelets

When you do something nice for someone here in Laos, they tie a little colourful string bracelet to your wrist as a way to say thank you. I noticed that trend in Cambodia too, to a lesser degree. I really like the concept.

I got my first bracelet (pink) in Angkor Wat after praying to a Buddha statue and making a donation. A Cambodian woman, all smiles, grabbed my arm before I could leave and tied skillfully the string while chanting softly.

I got a head rush from the sheer spirituality.

During my Bolivan plateau loop I stayed in a bungalow by the side of a small, quiet river. The place was very clean and calm and left a nice impression on me.

When I checked out at reception (a desk under a bamboo roof) the next morning I took the time to thank the staff for their welcome and told them how nice their place was.

The lady seemed very happy with my remark: she let out a very american "awwwww", grabbed a small straw pot hanging from the ceiling, reached inside and produced 3 bracelets, 2 bright yellow and 1 half yellow and half brown, which she tied softly to my wrist. She then joined her hands together to her chin and said a cheerful "Kup Chaï Laï Laï" (Thank you very much) to which I replied by joining my hands together up to my nose - the respectful height for a salute to someone older than you - and repeating my best Kup Chaï... they apparently don't have a word for "You're welcome".

I think the mother of the family actually makes them herself and to me it makes them even more significant and symbolic.

I received a lot of those bracelets while attending Don Det parties and weddings (there seemed to be one every week) and sometimes had to take them off because they were tied too loosely. At some point Ken remarked that I was starting to have a lot of them and compared me to Manni, a man from England that had been on the island for 2 years and was pretty much running Happy Bar.

"Have you seen Manni's arms? He has so many friends! So much time for so much friends".

On my last day on Don Det I was eating at the neighbors' restaurant (which had become tradition since I was feeling guilty at making Ban cook for me during her ever-rare time off) when I announced to them that I was leaving. The mother of the family seemed very sad and gave me another 3 bracelets and we took family pictures. The eldest daughter came to me and talked very softly in Lao for a minute - the grandma seemed intent on us getting wed one day - and the kids all laughed.

4 days ago I cut loose my bracelets. I was still carrying most of them to the point where I have a paler spot on my wrist where they were. I had to cut them because I got a new job dishwashing at a friend's bar and I didn't want them to get ruined by the constant water.

They had been a constant reminder of my good times now past and the ones to come as I sometimes struggle to get up in the morning.

Paï si tu veux pas lire (Guillaume)

Very good nice

Le Bum

When I was in high school everyone used to call me ''Le Bum'', probably because of my attire. I would pretty much wear cargo pants and a black sweatshirt every day, and so people thought my parents were poor. I just didn't give a crap about watches, necklaces... I'd change shoes when I couldn't skateboard in them anymore...

I've been living in my friends' house for the past 2 weeks, in their guest room. The last of my belongings that have not been boxed in are with me: my tv, my ps3 (gotta game!), my ipod (music!), and a portion of my clothes.

I told my parents I was not moving back to the condo I was renting from them, when I get back from asia. I'm tired of fighting with them. And so, for the first time in 5 years, I don't really have a place to call my own. A strange feeling is constantly over me these days, like I need people to get by. I've always been independent and proud, so it's quite a new sensation, and I don't really like it.

This is what made me think of my high school nickname. Le Bum. Truly, these days, I am. I am unemployed for the next few months too, with no regular income. That is also a first in 10 years.

Strange how everything is liberating however. No insurance to pay. No cable, internet, heating, no need to get up in the morning, no cats to feed... nothing to worry about.

Exactly how I thought I'd live my life when I was younger.

Today is my last day in this house in the suburbs. I have another friend who is visiting Turkey and asked me to watch his place and take care of his cat, and so when I'm done been lazy, I'll be going there.

When I get back from my trip, I'll be couch surfing again. Living off people's generosity, trying to get back with much less than what I'm used to.

It's quite a humbling experience.