I See You Building the Castle with One Hand

View from the Tate Museum of Modern Art in London, U.K

Music for the Day: Nujabes
Some of you may recognize the name or the beats from the show Samurai Champloo. Nujabes is a very lyrical, rhythm-based sound with piano tones. These tones are intertwined with drums and guitar strokes and even a bit of flute now and then. Check them out! Dance a little, or maybe bob your head to and fro.

Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2sML2bq_WGw

The Final Day: Where Reflection Lives in London

It's easy to think that because this is my final day I should be out partying or making the most out of every second. This could be true. But I don't want to conclude this trip in that fashion. The Vagabond Project has been more than a vacation, a holiday, an assignment, or a process. It has been a challenge, physically and mentally. A hearty one at that. And you know what? I'm proud to say I have overcome everything that has been thrown at me. I'm proud to say that I have grown and adapted through life as a traveler. I am proud to say that I am a better person because of the people I have met and the sights I have seen along the way.

A "Secret Place": The Reservoir of Peckham Rye
I don't mean the famous sights like the Colosseum, Big Ben, or the Manneken Pis. They are great, sure (well, maybe not the Manneken Pis!). But I've been inspired much more by what lies off the path. These out of the way locations are the sights that I call Secret Places. Places like the King's Woods, the Paradise, and the Reservoir. But what is a "Secret Place" really?

Currently, I'm staying with a CouchSurfing (CS) host in London. His name is Duncan and he is a fantastic, cheerful, and interesting guy. He's been incredibly kind to let me stay here. Duncan advised me to stop by the Reservoir and gave me basic directions on a map to find it. I first visited it for a run and workout, but I returned to it this morning to really take it all in. It fits my idea of what a Secret Place is- which means that it is a location of mystery, beauty, and while not really known, it is a place that tends to be right in the middle of everything else.

To get to the Reservoir you have to follow this small footpath that looks like a dark alleyway. Notice the demon head sticker, and above, on the left-hand wall, graffiti marks the territory. Maybe a slight sense of danger is also an important inclusion to the definition of a Secret Place.

Graffiti! Nothing creative though. Just numbers and signatures.

So you eventually find a hole cut out in the fence. It's just big enough to slip through, so you do. You want to see what is on the other side, why a fence is there in the first place, and perhaps, more importantly, why someone would cut a hole in that said fence.

The other side of the hole in the fence. A hill, huh? You climb it. You notice the trash. The empty beer cans and condom wrappers. The additional graffiti on the reservoir caps.

You reach the top of the hill and follow a concrete outline across the plateau and to a littered staircase. When heading to a Secret Place, height and elevation are your friends. They somehow add a little extra to the location.

At the apex of the staircase, you're here! You're on top of this wonderful space of grass. The clouds are just above you and below you, houses and trees and farmyards expand into the distance. But then, you decide to turn around.

And you understand why this is a secret place. Why your jaw drops just slightly. Why you stand there an extra second or two and take in the entire skyline of London. Why you know, even when you take a picture, it isn't going to do it justice. Because Secret Places aren't meant to be experienced by photographs- they are meant to be found and experienced in person. 

Informal Musings of a Changing Adult (me!)

As much as this trip has been about the homeless and travel experiences, it has also been about self-advancement, discovery, and development. I have changed and grown in these 84 days and I would like to register some of my changes in thought. This may end up sounding like one of those advice philosophy books. If it does, I apologize.

1) Find the "Pause" button. Hit it.

I move quickly, especially with a physical deadline ahead of me. I have a flight? Better stress and make sure to get there two hours ahead of schedule. I want to go see this museum? Better plan the next few things to do while walking there. That was the old me. It's weird, because I always thought I was a more "do it as you go" kind of guy. And while I am, I like to have things planned, too. But I've learned, through this trip and with the patience of Chris, that you can't plan and make everything perfect. Sometimes the best choice is to "Joe-Cool" it up and relax on the beach for three hours. It's really paramount to be able to find this "Pause" button and hit it. It lets you soak up the experience instead of seeing it in the distance.

Taking this to the next level, I've learned it is important not to rush life. I used to believe it was of the utmost importance to graduate in four years, to sprint to medical school, and to gain my final degree. But honestly, it isn't. Life is about what you make of it and how you enjoy it. This is very counter-intuitive at first to the goals I have set in the past, but I am learning to pursue what I love instead of force feed myself what I want to become. I'm not taking a sloth approach by any means, but I am doing my best to take the right and most favorable route in life.

We can always stick to our primary routes, sure. But then we'll never see what is off to the side of the road. If I didn't take the time to hit the "Pause" button, I never would have hit golf balls with a 6-iron in the middle of the mountains in Austria. I never would have danced a very clumsy waltz to the Fleet Foxes at an outdoor stadium late at night. And I never would have hitch-hiked in Norway.

Your road is always going to be there. A bulldozer isn't going to scream by and strip the asphalt from the earth. Take the time to hit the "Pause" button and explore what's out there. It's all beautiful, man.

2) Your life isn't set in stone, no matter how good of a sculptor you think you are.

When I was a really little kid, I wanted to be an author. I wanted to write fantasy books like Brian Jacques and Garth Nix and help little kids like me grow their imaginations. But I heard being an author was incredibly difficult and took a wild amount of luck. I didn't want to gamble with my life, so I changed the career that I wanted to pursue. I switched to an interest in architecture as I started to draw more and more. I would imagine wild building designs and sketch cities from films and pieces of structures that I thought were unique and powerful. But I started thinking more and more about what I wanted to do in my life and I realized that I wanted to work with and help people. I read the book, Mountains Beyond Mountains by Paul Farmer and I immediately urged to become a trauma surgeon and travel to third world countries. I wanted to be modern-day superman.

This was all before I turned 16. I was so confident in who and what I wanted to be. 

3) There are good people and bad people. But the good people are or so wonderful.

This is to be continued. I'm writing this as I get ready to leave to the airport, and frankly, I've run out of time!

I'm going to leave to fly home now! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I'll finish this later. I just wanted to get some thoughts out there. There is a new batch of pictures up, check 'em!

Here I come, Arizona!

Cheers!

-Sam

Interactions (round 1)!

Notice!

I posted a bunch of photos from Basel, Switzerland in the Pictures section. Check them out!

Conversions

100 USD =

647 SEK

75 EURO

93 CHF

Interactions (round 1)!

When you’re traveling you tend to meet people. You stay in dinky hostels or rent rooms for cheap. You sit next to different men and women during flights and you bump into hundreds of fresh faces and pubs and on the streets. Sometimes it is just a quick conversation followed by parting ways. Yet, at other moments, meeting someone new can mean a lot more. Chris and I have been on our adventure for just over twenty days now and we’ve met many great people. I’d like to thank and point out a few of them, especially those that provided some great memories.

Lenin

For most hostels we’ve passed through, the reception desk has been hosted by a young guy or gal at all hours of the day and night. The hostel hosts take shifts, of course, and they appear to be from wild and unique backgrounds- each with his or her own story to tell. Lenin dates back to the first city we visited: Madrid. During our last night there, I was up very late on the computer in the lobby of the hostel. Lenin was browsing Facebook or some other time-slaying website behind the main desk, twiddling his fingers and doing his best to stay awake. He turns to me and starts talking. It took me a minute at the time, but I soon realized he was telling me a story.

We sat and talked like that for a bit in the lobby as I did my best to scan CouchSurfing for a possible host in Barcelona or any of the other future cities. Life. Relationships. Philosophy. He was patient with my Spanish, too, and when I wasn’t feeling up to the challenge of a sentence we swapped back to English.

Lenin was the first really kind guy behind a reception desk at a hostel that we met- the first that openly wanted to chat about anything and everything.

Sebastian

Barcelona was a pilgrimage of sorts. Chris and I stayed in three different locations in three nights, the third being a tiny room rented out through AirBnB. Cheap, near the beach, and with three random roommates. These roommates, of course, actually lived in the rowhouse.

One of them was named Sebastian. Tall, bigger guy, Sebastian wore glasses and had short black hair. He was the kind of person that looked like he could be a bouncer for a night club, if, and only if, he could make a mean-looking grimace or snarl twist across his face. I don’t think Sebastian could. Instead, he was slow-speaking and sympathetic.

Sebastian was up for talking about anything I asked him. Again, as with Lenin, I did my best to speak in Spanish. Sebastian actually would correct or instruct me to use different vocabulary, too. I know when I was telling him about how I wanted to work as a surgeon in a trauma center, he told me how to say “surgeon” in Spanish. My, I tripped over that word so many times. It is simple, looking at it, but my tongue coils around the up/down bend of its vocality- “cirujano.” I could say the word on its own, but the second I put it into a sentence I lost control of my vocal chords.

Sebastian was also keen with his advice, like an older brother looking out for a younger brother. He had much more experience than Chris and I. Listening to him in the living room of that rustic flat was tranquil and relaxing. The man knew how to spin his diction in just the right way to get the point across. Admirable.

Eva

Also in Barcelona, I met an ex-Homeless World Cup coordinator named Eva. She gave me directions to meet outside an Apple Store in the middle of the city. I left early, knowing I’d get lost, got lost, and made it on time. After a handshake and a smile, we headed west down a main road in search of a restaurant for a quick coffee.

Our search for the restaurant we wanted wasn’t fruitful, and instead we ended up walking five or six blocks. We pulled off to the next shop we could see, a nice little place with outdoor seating and green and white umbrellas to keep the Spanish sun off our backs. We got a pair of coffees and started talking.

When I think of a coffee convo, I think of a thirty minute chat. Nothing too deep or too vast, just a centralized talk about a certain subject. Eva, however, was so easy to talk with, and we sat there at that little table for nearly two hours. Wow.

But I didn’t want a short conversation. Hearing about Eva’s work in and around Barcelona, and then her experience with the HWC was fascinating. She helped coordinate the World Cup in Rio as well as underneath the Eiffel Tower in Paris. She stepped down from the job to work closer to Barcelona, but she certainly enjoyed her time with the program.

What was most important about talking with Eva was the timing. This was still very early in the trip and I had no contact yet with live personnel from the Homeless World Cup or other organizations in Europe. Eva got me more excited about the work I planned to do in the next few countries. She got my hopes up for the program and made me want to go talk with people and players and hear their stories. I walked back to the place in Barcelona we were staying with a skip in my step. I was stoked to move on, to learn more, to see more, and to progress the journey.

Juan

Eva directed me to Juan, who has been working with the Arrels organization. Juan is brilliant. He gave me a brief history and tour of the building where the program is held. It was incredibly impressive and organized. They work with what, in a way, could be described as those that are chronically homeless. In order for to be assisted by Arrels, one needs to be on the streets for a time period greater than five years. That’s a long time- and I could tell by walking through the facility- that the people that were there had been through some stuff.

Arrels is really useful and beneficial. Not only do they provide shoes, bags, storage, classes, showers, bathrooms, advice, and temporary shelter (during the day- not nights) for the homeless, but they also do their best to chart Barcelona and evaluate where people sleep and how many reside on the streets.

One of the frequenters of Arrels is a man who used to be a comic strip artist. He’s been on the streets for over fifteen years now and he produces a series of graphic novels about his time on the road. His name is Miguel Fuster. Here are some links to check out his work:

http://miquelfuster.com/

http://www.editoresdetebeos.com/autor.aspx?pdI=492

To a Google Chat Buddy

I really appreciate being able to talk with you on and off these past few days. It’s been nice to clear my head and laugh, and perfect for sitting down late at night before heading to sleep. Thanks for being there and being awesome!

Short Quips

My laptop charger is a fire hazard and one day the laptop may just explode. When I’m sitting, writing like this, the charger heats up at a rapid rate. I don’t think the heat has a breaking point. For example, at this moment, I can’t even touch it. It’s made of lava or hellfire or something crazy! Good news is, when you’re cold it makes quite the hand warmer.

Sleeping on a Soccer Field

A couple days ago Chris and I spent our first night on the streets. We arrived in Stockholm just after midnight by bus and set off to grab food and search for some kind of shelter. This was actually the first time we tried Burger King, too. I must say- the Angry Chicken Sandwich is one mean, delicious meal (especially after over twelve hours of travel).

With food in our bellies,  we set off in Stockholm. We were surprised at the quantity of people out on the streets on a weekday, but it was nice to have the yawping company of hooligans and bar-goers. After two hours of walking and searching for a sheltered park, we came across a school with a soccer field that was all fenced in besides on small break in the gate that was the entrance. We’d been on the move for so long that we were ready to call it quits. The grass, or artificial turf, in this case, was wet, so we put our backpacks on the side of the field. I zipped my jacket up, leaned my bag against the chain fence, and sat down just enough so that I could lean my head on the top of my pack. Chris did likewise. I was out in minutes, my bum on cold concrete, birds laughing and scavenging, and the wind rustling. We got a solid hour and a half of sleep or so before moving on to our next day.

The Jura! A hike in Basel, Switz.

Current Status

We’re both good and safe for the moment. We’re staying at the City Backpackers Hostel in Stockholm, Sweden, and are thankful to have a roof and a bed. It’s hard to book a place short notice in the city. I’m going to sign off for now and grab a quick hour of sleep, I’m still fairly beat.

Next post will be about soccer- errr futbol. There was a big tournament this past weekend in Basel, Switzerland, and Chris and I both played! Heck yeah.

Cheers,

Sam