The simple word “Bali” usually conjures to the mind a plethora of exotic scenes: oneiric beaches, swaying coconut trees, tropical paradise where smiling locals massage our limbs aching from the hard work sitting at the office. However, while they certainly are well-founded, we know we will keep in memory another image of the iconic island: one of the Balinese culture, rich with music and dances, architecture and religion, paintings and sculptures.
Ladina declined the offer, though, really, I have no idea how you could not be interested by such a thing.
“Want to try one of these worms? That for sure is a once in a lifetime experience. Well, except if you like them, I suppose”
I might have to further work on my persuasion skills.
I love CouchSurfing. I have probably already said it, but I love CouchSurfing. For everything it brought to my trip – locals’ recommendations, discovering cultures from the inside, meeting great people, sharing joys and, most importantly, making amazing friends – I am eternally grateful, and in debt to all the CouchSurfers around the world. They will be most welcome at my place, when – or rather every time – I will be settled down somewhere.
Nevertheless, despite all the qualities of the CouchSurfing project, it does have one major drawback. It needs the Internet.
I am not talking about the problem of accessing the Internet, though. Travelers can find, nowadays, an access to the Internet – may it be a Wi-Fi hot-spot or a cybercafe – relatively easily (thank you McDonald’s and Burger King, aka Hungry Jack’s for our Australian friends); as for the hosts, it is obvious that CouchSurfing cannot expand to the regions of the world that are not reached by this powerful medium. This is something that will improve with time; and after all, on the other hand, it is sometimes a relief to find that you can be impossible to reach in some parts of this world. Yes. It is.
I am, actually, talking about the fact that CouchSurfing needs messages between the host and the surfer if they are to organize the latter’s stay. Such a conversation, obviously necessary, takes at least a week, if not several. Which means the traveler needs to know a week in advance where he is going. CouchSurfing is an amazing project, but it restrains the sheer freedom of travelers, especially those, like me, who are always on the move, always on the road, and only following the wind.
This is what I realized, the night before I reached Sydney, after a phone call to Kevin, a CouchSurfer that I thought would be able to host me when I would arrive there. In the silence of Newcastle’s train station, the fact that CouchSurfing was, after all, also a social act, implying social rules and roles, became all but too obvious to me.
After all, one of the reasons why I am traveling is to escape the constant demands of the society.
Maybe such a thing is impossible.
Le métro sort en fusant du souterrain, filant tel un obus inarrêtable sur le pont quittant Hong Kong Island à travers la brume hivernale du petit matin. Je me lève, stabilise mon sac contre les sièges, et m’approche de la portière afin de pouvoir admirer, une dernière fois, cette baie que je commence à connaître par cœur. Dans mes écouteurs, Silversun Pickups – Laze Eye entre, avec une synchronisation si parfaite qu’elle en paraît cinématographique, dans un instrumental mélancolique, subtil, raffiné, tachant et électriquement dégoulinant. Cette baie, je l’ai vue tant de fois, en partant en randonnée sur Lantau Island, pour retrouver des gens à Tung Chung, mais aussi et surtout pour aller à l’aéroport.
Pour quitter Hong Kong. Une fois de plus.
Cette fois, je suis seul dans le métro. Seul avec mes écouteurs et mon sac, ceux qui me suivent dans mon voyage. J’observe silencieusement, submergé par le déploiement sonore quasi-furieux du morceau, le bitume humide et froid du port, les couleurs vibrantes mais assombries des conteneurs, les nuages qui semblent avoir descendu plus près du sol, comme pour me cacher à dessein la vide immensité du ciel.
Le train s’engouffre à nouveau sous terre, alors que la piste touche à sa fin en une accalmie apaisante. Je retourne m’asseoir sur le métal. Et essaye de fixer mes pensées, de retourner à la réalité. De ne pas me laisser me noyer dans les souvenirs.
You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go go
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime
(Eminem – Lose Yourself)