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What does Coronavirus tell us about changing?

0. Introduction, I. Changing, II. What to?

Sorry for the “you had been told” flavour to this post. It comes at this time mainly because I happen to be locked at home and have a few hours to spend on writing, which had not happened for the past year. Of course the covid-19 pandemic provides a lot of food for thought, both in the pessimistic and optimistic direction. I’m trying to make sense of it on my side, I’m posting these thoughts here in case they are interesting for others. As a reminder, these thoughts are obviously based on my subjective viewpoint, so you might want to read the wiki part of this blog to see where I’m comming from.

Before I start, let us have a thought for those who are at the frontline of this turmoil. Health workers fighting to keep their physical and mental sanity. Vulnerable and elderly people who are fearing for their lives or already in intensive care units. Their relatives and friends who can only helplessly watch the distress of their loved ones. Last but not least, workers and other individuals who are likely to lose their job, might loose their housing, and are worrying about their future.
I am sorry the rest of this post seems to forget about these personal situations. I am sheltered from most of these negative impacts of the pandemic, and aware of what a privilege that is. I am trying to share that privilege by taking the time to point out changes in our society which will affect us all, even those who today have more immediate problems to face. We need to be ready for the aftermath, because the transition which was brutally accelerated by this pandemic might take us to a more sustainable world, just as it might give the opportunity to a few to lock us into an unprecedented world of inequalities and exploitation.

The dominant narrative

If you listen to our governments, our media and even your employer, colleagues or friends, here’s the story…

The coronavirus has triggered a crisis which requires radical action, namely confinement, for a few weeks, after which we’ll be able to resume our previous activities. In the meantime, all those who can are encouraged to proceed with their business as usual, working remotely or going to work if they are healthy. This seems necessary to keep our economic structures up and running. To reassure everyone, states are promising to pour billions in tax waivers and subsidies to keep companies and the work market afloat.
The most optimistic are pointing out the fact that we’re going through unprecedented state action, showing how we could face climate change and other global challenges if we decided to. Global greenhouse gas emissions have fallen as a result of the lockdowns and it might even be that the reduction in air pollution is saving more lives than those ended by the virus (but is that an ethical calculation to do?). In the meantime, governments and associations are issuing multiple calls for a long-term change in our way of life.

A less optimistic viewpoint

However, even the optimistic have put on hold any effort towards putting political pressure for structural changes to happen. The priority, it is said, is to care for one another and brace until the storm is well past. Parliaments have suspended their sessions. Activists have postponed their actions. Associations have cancelled their activities. Citizens are home learning how to take care of their kids and neighbours or how to use videoconferencing and other online tools. Citizen participation is reduced to online petitions and celebrating at the windows and on balconies.
And that’s where I’m leaning towards pessimism… While the population is confined at home, enjoying a record amount of Netflix movies and sustaining the business of online sales, the economic crisis is already a reality. It seems unlikely that the impacts on unemployment can be mitigated. Subsidies and tax waivers mean the states are deepening a deficit that was already at an all times deep. Facilitated loans for enterprises are locking us into an obligation to produce and generate economic growth in the near future to pay that back. And corporations are asking for public money to cover their losses, a story we’ve read before with the subsidies given to banks after the 2008 crisis.

Where things become really difficult to disentangle is when we look at the diplomatic situation. With international organisations suspending their meetings and some of their operations, borders closing and governments all around the world calling for patriotism while army and police are deploying on the streets to enforce the confinement measures, who knows what is to expect in the medium term. China has been looked at a lot for its radical quarantine measures and later for the material it is providing to foreign health systems. They’ve also started spreading the word that the virus might have been brought to Wuhan by the US. Citizen index, automated face recognition and body temperature checks, travel restrictions and other tools developed to keep the population and the public opinion under constant scrutiny suddenly look useful, not to say life-saving, and are being deployed at unprecedented rate and scale, in what is more seen as an exemplary reaction to the pandemic rather than a worrying step towards restricting human rights. Don’t think this would reach western countries? France, the home of Human Rights, is testing drones to verify that inhabitants of Paris stay confined at home. And Italy, among other countries, is monitoring the smartphones of the population to keep track of movements and gatherings. Not to speak about the temptation of discriminating between « imune » and « non imune » individuals, those with the means of getting infected in controlled conditions (or vaccinated) getting back fundamental rights to moving and gathering way before others…

What’s next?

So much for the present. So what can we expect ? I’ve described on the wiki 3 « benchmark sustainable long-term scenarios« , which I still see as relevant, so where is this pandemic leading us?

Scenario 1, the extinction of humanity, still seems unlikely. Even at a 5% mortality rate, we’re far from extinct. It could still happen, if the virus mutates into more deadly versions and if a few war arise to help, but let’s rule this one out. However, we should keep in mind the emergence of this virus is not unrelated to globalisation and our model of development, and other outbreaks are poised to occur soon if we don’t change.

Scenario 2, the artificialization of society and social relations, is in my pessimistic view the one we’re getting most close to. At individual level, we’re getting used to remote and video interactions while becoming wary of physical contact. I have heard just enough about fake news and conspiracy theories to think they’re blooming around, but haven’t come across any directly, letting me think we’re more than ever locked into “social bubbles”, where we’re only aware of what fits our own vision of the world, the rest being filtered out by social network algorithms. Work as a human component of a broader computer network is more than ever becoming the norm.
On the corporations side, I bet the fall in human workforce triggered by the isolation is already fostering research on work automation and we’ll probably soon hear calls for more implementation of “smart” products on the basis of avoiding unnecessary social interactions (automated cars, connected fridges, delivery drones, production line robots…). On the political side, governments are learning to act on data and technocratic advice with no democratic control. In some places, they’re further using all available technological means to monitor and control their population. As said, the billions promised and lent to enterprises are locking us into a growth-driven economy, the first priority of which will be to offset the losses incurred in the past weeks by ramping up production and annihilating any progress made on the side of ecological footprint. How far are we from a “Black mirror” type of society?
What is worse, once that “economic recovery” process is launched, who will want to turn back and resume thinking about “radical necessary climate action” or alike? The current period is being experienced as frightening, complicated, stressful, in one word “negative” by a majority of the population, I would bet. If you’re reading this, chances are you are not in that majority, and as me you’ll have the impression that, on the contrary, everyone around is calling for and eager to start a greater change. I somehow am not that confident. Those who still speak out are indeed showing a lot of determination to get a system change. But I haven’t heard anything from many who used to speak out (insider tipp: we were only 8 people at this week’s online Extinction Rebellion local branch plenum, against about 20 usually), and I’m afraid that this silent majority, driven by the wish to come back to “normal” and oriented by the implacable logic of a productivity system we’ve been grown in, will defeat any serious attempt from the few remaining idealists to steer the system to something “better” than what it used to be.

Nice! So is there any hope for scenario 3, the realisation that the earth’s ressources are finite and need to be shared more fairly between ourselves, citizens of the world ? A few elements point to it indeed. As mentioned at the beginning, many organisations are pointing out how the strong reaction of our governments have shown how hollow their claims are that they need to rely on market mechanisms and “proactive consumer” behaviours to change the course of our history. In a couple of weeks, we have witnessed mobilisation akin to war times. Every single inhabitant of the world knows of the danger we are facing. Those oblivious of this reality are being reminded through intensive communication campaigns. This has allowed to justify enforcing strict measures at individual level. Several sectors are nearly completely shut down (about 90% of the flight in who worlds were cancelled), some others are reorienting their production to necessary supplies (Ferrari producing ventilators, Dior producing hand sanitiser). At local level, many people have come out in solidarity with their neighbours and displayed support for the heroes of the time, the health personal. Yes we can, indeed.
On the other hand, from home, many people might have time to think. Links and petitions and videos are circulating on what this crisis is and how to address it and why it is urgent (have a look at Green Quarantine, if I may mention one). The weaknesses of our old system are exposed and the link with climate change and other global issues is made. We can hope this awareness will not vanish with the virus. But for that, we need to act now.

What to do?

There is a last thing the pandemic has taught us, something not much spoken about (Dominique Bourg speaks about it, in 20 minutes’ « Culture » pages): an effective reaction to a global crisis can not be technological, nor market based, and has to happen before the problem takes an uncontrollable dimension. We did not wait for the number of deaths to be significant (confinement was decided in Switzerland when about 3 deaths had been registered in the country), nor did we did wait for a vaccine to take extensive preventive measures. People accept being at home not because they are payed to, nor do companies shut because they received public incentives. Only a minority of the population is threatened by the virus, yet ultimately all are abiding by the new rules, in the name of solidarity. What was key was the intense communication around the emergency of the situation, how it would worsen with time (the famous bell curve with the exponential growth at the beginning) and how it was probably already worse than could be monitored. Even then, reaction was slow and we now have to cope with thousands of deaths and cramped hospitals. But that was no reason for anyone to lower their arms and resume their business as usual.
Likewise, effective climate action should not wait for large coastal cities to be under water (although that is almost already the case). Effective policies should not rely on whatever renewable energy or energy storage technologies might become available in the future. Market design and energy efficiency incentives have already proven ineffective in actually changing mentalities and achieving any reductions in carbon emissions. We will need state-driven policies to avoid ecological overshoot. And those will only be acceptable if proper communication is done beforehand. It has started already, but the link is still missing for people between what is happening and why they should care. Here as well, solidarity is important: with the populations displaced by climate change, but also with our relatives most vulnerable to heatwaves, and those at risk in case of extreme weather events. And we know those will become more frequent and more intense the more we keep overloading the natural cycles. Just as we know we will not be able to prevent millions of deaths linked to climate change. Yet is that a reason to evacuate it from our minds and proceed with our everyday lives?

There is one big differences between covid-19 and climate change though. The measures to be taken against covid-19 are pretty straightforward, easy to enforce and can be presented as temporary. Measures against climate change and the destruction of natural environments are more complex, touch most aspects of our lives and will have to become the norm. Having one government deciding in the name of all of us is unacceptable, which means they would not be followed by the population. We need to claim back our democracy. Possibly improve it. That’s were citizen assemblies and other participative democracy schemes possibly have a role to play. Science produced a whole panel of possible measures. It should now be up to citizens to decide which ones to implement, when, how and with what compensations.

Shouldn’t it?
We’re back to the ultimate action we can always take: think about it, discuss about it, so we’re ready to act on it when the time comes. After the economic crisis in 2008 it took about 3 years for the “Indignados” and Occupy movements to step forward and denounce the hypocrisy of the financial sector and the policies put in place to protect it and enhance its profits. It was too late then, people were back to their everyday lifes, corporations had recovered, the states had lost the aura of authority that a swift reaction to a crisis gives them. We’re heading to a few weeks of confinement during which these ideas of change can spread and bloom like never before. Let them be ripe for as soon as policies can be enacted on something else than public health. And in the meantime, we need to continue to make clear to our governments what the limits are on how much they can restrict our rights.

Le mot de la fin

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Celui-ci aura attendu encore un bon moment… Comme quoi rien de tel que les lieux familiers et les vieux amis pour vous tenir bien occupé. À ma décharge l’itinéraire depuis Helsinki n’a pas réservé de surprises majeures. Je suis descendu de Suède en Suisse puis au Portugal sans grand détour (si ce n’est un crochet par Breslavie et un autre par Toulouse, on y revient). À distinguer cependant, la traversée du Golfe de Finlande de Turku à Stockholm. Turku, c’est à deux heures de train de Helsinki, et là où j’ai passé une deuxième nuit Finnoise, dans la cabine d’un vieux paquebot transformé en hostel, ce qui était une jolie façon de boucler la boucle. J’ai enchaîné avec une dernière journée de bateau, un grand ferry qui a louvoyé entre les îles et îlots au ras des flots jusqu’à l’entrée dans Stockholm. La mer est ici d’un vert profond, en contraste avec le bleu de la Neva à Saint-Petersbourg, et les morceaux de terre qui la parsèment semblent avoir été rabotés pour faire de petites plate-bandes de forêt de pins entourées de blocs granitiques ajustés. Ici et là, un coin de l’île est occupé par une cabine à sauna, d’où les finnois peuvent plonger directement dans l’eau glacée à la sortie de leur bain de vapeur. Ou c’est le panneau jaune d’indication d’une ligne électrique posée en travers d’un bras de mer qui signale la présence des habitants.
Stockholm n’est plus à décrire, d’autant que je ne l’ai pas vraiment visitée cette fois. Je recommande tout de même l’arrivée par la mer, avec l’alignement des façades orangées anciennes le long des quais de l’île centrale Gamla Stan, surmontées des rangées de fenêtres du Château royal et du clocher de la Cathédrale. J’y ai retrouvé de la famille, avec qui j’ai passé quelques jours dans une maison rouge au milieu des bois qui forment l’agréable banlieue de la ville, avant de descendre à Lund, toujours en famille.
De là, j’ai continué vers le Sud. Le train de Copenhague à Berlin est de ceux qui s’embarquent sur un ferry pour la traversée d’un détroit. Une fois la rame doucement entrée dans le pont inférieur, les passagers sont priés de passer du wagon sur les ponts supérieurs pour admirer la vue sur les éoliennes offshore qui parsèment la mer brumeuse, pendant une petite heure de navigation. Ensuite il faut à présent changer de train à Hambourg (les capitales européennes semblent de moins en moins bien reliées par le rail…). Berlin, elle, est restée à peu près la même, une ville où il fait bon vivre, entre concerts dans la futuriste salle de la Philharmonie (avec un ami, ancien colloc) et lectures en short au soleil sur les pelouses des parcs. J’y retrouve en particulier un collègue du temps de l’échange alors qu’il mène sa petite fille dans un jardin où une association de voisins organise tous les mercredis des activités pour les touts petits. Jeux colorés en bois et à roulettes, balançoires, clown, tout y est pour faire passer un bon moment aux familles. Un bel exemple de « ville vivante ». Puis je passe mon anniversaire avec une amie de lycée et un ami « de la famille » dans un des Biergarten de la ville, dans un coin de bois au bord de l’embouchure d’un canal, petit oasis depuis lequel il est difficile de s’imaginer dans l’une des plus grandes villes d’Europe.
Là-dessus je reprends le train, ou plutôt un chapelet de trains régionaux jusqu’à Breslavie, alias Wroclaw, en Pologne. C’est pour retrouver Patrick (nom d’emprunt), encore un ami d’échange, qui me présente dès l’arrivée à son professeur de guitare. Celui-ci donne son cours en marquant le rythme des morceaux par des coups sonores de ses talons de métal sur le sol, improvisant ainsi une danse de claquettes sur chaque exercice. De Breslavie je retiendrai les petits gnomes en bronze qui décorent la ville, perchés à des réverbères (il y a encore des réverbères à gaz dans ces rues!) ou chevauchant des pigeons sur les rebords des fenêtres de l’hôtel de ville en style gothique. C’est ici que je me trouve pour la nuit des musées, qui coïncide avec les portes ouvertes des commerces du quartier. Avec Patrick, nous apprenons ainsi à créer un biotope en pot hermétique dans un magasin de décoration, bocal de vert en verre qui se passe d’arrosage et facile à transporter. D’autres magasins proposent de l’eau-de-vie locale, des marchés d’artisanat ou encore des ustensiles de cuisine originaux, comme le bol de soupe à piquants, avec des piques qui viennent chatouiller le bout du nez lorsqu’on lève le bol pour le terminer, pour nous faire retrouver la sensation des animaux pour qui manger s’accompagne toujours au moins d’une démangeaison. Bref, une collection d’ambiances sympathiques et d’objets incongrus. La soirée se termine au plus formel musée de la ville, avec les peintures et statues habituelles mais aussi une monumentale horloge intégralement en papier et des artéfacts des corporations de métiers du moyen-âge (blasons, serrures compliquées…).
Je repars sur une nouvelle succession de petits trains. C’est là que me frappe à un moment donné le contraste entre les champs de fleurs jaunes d’ici, peut-être du colza, et les champs de fleurs jaunes du Sichuan. C’est bien le même jaune, mais en Allemagne de grands rectangles plats couverts d’une couche drue de fleurs, en Chine des successions de petites parcelles sur les pentes couverts d’un duvet de fleurs. Ces rêveries ne manquent pas de me faire manquer un train, m’entraînant dans une rare succession de ratés, retards et annulations, qui me fait passer à Frankfort Gare Centrale pensant être à Frankfort Sud alors que j’étais censé changer de train dès Mannheim (je vous passe les détails, heureusement que je connais un peu les gares de Frankfort). J’arrive tout de même à Heidelberg le soir chez Sam, un ami de master, avec qui je passerai deux jours plutôt reposants, profitant encore des pelouses le long du fleuve Neckar.
Vient la rentrée en Suisse, en passant par Zürich, Berne, Lausanne, Sion… je ne détaille pas, si ce n’est pour mentionner la rafraîchissante eau des lacs. Non que les rencontres que j’y ai (re)faites soient sans importance, mais parce qu’elles relèvent plus de la vie courante et privée que du voyage. Puis la boucle est « officiellement » bouclée à Fleurier, Val-de-Travers, canton de Neuchâtel, 363 jours après le départ (du 1er Juin 2016 au 31 Mai 2017, moins le 9 Septembre que, si vous vous en souvenez, j’ai zappé en passant la Ligne Internationale de Date).
Restera tout de même à rentrer jusqu’au Portugal, après une pause de trois semaines mises à profit pour penser un peu aux suites du voyage. Un trajet dont j’ai maintenant l’habitude, en passant par Paris et avec un crochet par Toulouse (toujours pour voir les amis). Arrivée à Lisbonne le 5 Juillet au matin par le Sud-Express, soit un an, un mois et deux semaines après le départ, le 21 Mai. L’heure est au bilan, à la narration et aux séances de réponses aux questions que me posent les uns et les autres, et dont je reprends quelques classiques en portugais. Merci d’avoir suivi mes histoires jusqu’ici, on se reverra bientôt puisque je reprendrai sans doute le clavier tôt ou tard pour raconter encore un peu de la suite.

Nisto regressei a Lisboa (vejam o mapa para o itinerário, não vou contar de novo)… Abraços, jantares, serões, foi quase um mês de bela vida antes de voltar a sair. Entrecortados por aqueles momentos inevitáveis de interrogatório mais ou menos cerrado. Para que conste, aqui estão algumas das respostas frequentes…

O que aprendeste durante a viagem?
Tirando os vários mapas e horários de comboios e autocarros, uma das surpresas do trajecto foram as fronteiras. No nosso querido espaço Schengen estamos mais ou menos protegidos daquilo que é de facto mudar de país… Antes de atravessar, pedir um visto com mais ou menos antecedência, verificar as condições de passagem na fronteira (subornos a evitar, taxa de câmbio), os documentos a apresentar para comprovar meios e planos de viagem, onde seja recomendado avisar o consulado local para que eles possam ajudar se necessário, verificar condições particulares de segurança ou costumes locais a respeitar. Na fronteira, fazer filas, sorrir a guardas, responder a perguntas, passar a mala nos raios X para verificação (hoje em dia já raramente se tem que abrir a bagagem), em certos sítios pagar pelo visto à chegada e/ou recusar pagar por um « extra » destinado ao pessoal. Uma vez do lado de lá, há que retirar dinheiro local, confrontar-se com outra língua, outro alfabeto e conhecer caras e culturas novas.
Claro que isto é quase tanto o interesse da viagem quanto o seu inconveniente. O corolário destas formalidades todas é que de factos não temos todos a mesma liberdade de ir e vir. Independentemente da questão financeira, conheci amigos sem passaporte, países onde passaportes são fornecidos à alto preço e só válidos uns meses, cidades remotas onde mostrar um visto é já em si uma atracção. Isto sem falar na desigualdade que há na atribuição dos vistos, estando nós, na União Europeia, no cimo da escala desse ponto de vista.

O que sabem « eles » de Portugal, da Europa?
Unanimemente, sabem do Cristiano Ronaldo. Aliás, ele é quase sistematicamente a primeira associação de ideias quando se fala na pátria lusa. Numa ocasião falaram-me também do Figo… Eu bem tentei meter cunhas pelo António Guterres, mas isso só serviu para descobrir que poucos alguma vez ouviram falar das Nações Unidas. Quanto ao nosso território, não sei ao certo se o podem localizar, mas atrevo-me a dizer que quanto maior a diferença cultural, menos tendência tiveram os meus interlocutores a confundir-nos com Espanha (quando não com uma província de Espanha).
A Europa é um pouco mais fácil, se bem que aqueles com educação para saber alguma coisa da nossa organização política estão no mínimo tão perdidos como nós. Já culturalmente, reconheçamos que continuamos a ser uma referência. Desde os « americanos », que conhecem com algum detalhe as origens europeias dos antepassados, aos Sul-Asiáticos que adoram telenovelas decorrendo em Paris, todos têm de forma ou de outra um olho virado para o Velho Continente, no mínimo mais do que nós temos olhos para ver para fora. Um olhar de forma geral favorável, para não dizer obsessivo. É disso sabem bem as nossas corporações aproveitar-se, desde as alimentares com o leite materno em pó (lojas inteiras na China) às de higiene com as suas saquetas de shampoo caras e (mal) descartáveis (aos cachos em lojas do Laos e arredores).

Mudaste?
Não. Digo, claro. Não sei. De certa forma, surpreendentemente pouco, ou assim disseram alguns que bem me conhecem. De facto como saí de viajem numa disposição para aceitar o que desse e viesse, também não precisei de mudar muito para aceitar o que foi acontecendo. Fiquei a conhecer mais algumas fisionomias, aprendi laivos de algumas línguas, fiz alguns amigos que será mais ou menos fácil de rever, mas não foi isso que me fez um « homem novo ».
Por outro lado, a minha vida, essa sim, levou um valente pontapé. Não bastava largar uma oportunidade de emprego para ter tempo de sair, mas de encontros em encontros parece que saiu de vez dos carris em que estava à partida (ver pergunta seguinte). Logo se vê onde levam os novos. Uma consequência disso, e da viajem em santinhos aleatórios, é que em muitas coisas deixei de planear com antecedência e em detalhe. Foram precisas umas semanas antes de conseguir de novo projectar-me mais de duas semanas em frente… E ainda agora por muito que planeie ando frequentemente atrás dos atrasos ou rés-vés, eu que costumava ter uma meia-horita de avanço para encontros. Também será porque faço mais, e com menos horários, mas surpreendo-me com impensáveis distracções.

Voltarias a fazê-lo?
Assim já de seguida talvez não, já apetece ficar quedo por um bocado nalgum sítio. Daqui a uns anos, logo se vê, ainda não recuperei a capacidade a pensar tão longe em frente. Mas se, voltando atrás, surgisse de novo a oportunidade, acho que sim. De saco mais leve, porém.

E agora?
A pergunta seria terrível se a viajem não tivesse, de certa forma, já decidido por mim. Para tornar a estar com quem conheci, vou seguir para uma nova volta. Com paragens mais compridas e tempo para ganhar a vida, se tudo correr bem. O desafio será ver se consigo manter as coisas mais ou menos sustentáveis (pessoalmente, ambientalmente e economicamente). Para já a partida não sabe ao mesmo que há um ano…

These considerations pretty much close this section of the blog. I’ll have more to say about further travels, but that will wait for inspiration.
As a post-scriptum, let me mention a few numbers about the travel.
I left for 363 nights (1st June 2016 to 31st of May 2017 minus the 9th of September when I crossed the International Date Line), of which 65 I spent on travel (34 on ships, 27 on night trains and 4 night buses), 121 at friends and hosts places (many thanks to all!), 11 under a tent, the rest (166) in hostels (and campings and hotels).
The budget for all this might be useful for future travellers. My total spending for the year was about 14’400€. The two ocean crossings were particularly expensive: 1200€ for the cargo trip across the Atlantic, 1070€ for the Pacific cruise (charges and reservations fees included). Other expenses include travel insurance (704€ for the year), visas (160$ for the sole US visa, about 420€ total: US, twice China, Laos, Thailand, Cambodia, Laos, Kazakhstan, Russia) and travel medicine consultations before the travel (261€, the Japanese encephalitis vaccine being particularly expensive). What’s left are daily expenses, about 30€/day, mainly for transportation and accommodation, plus what french call “faux frais”, “false expenses”, a bit ironically. Of course expenses in most of Asia were much lower than in Japan or North America, I was spending about 20€ a day on average, with hostels costing 4 to 8€/night and meals 1 to 2€.
With this I stayed in 82 cities and places in 16 countries – plus a few I only stayed a few hours, distant about 56’000km in total (drawing straight lines between each). That’s an average speed of 6,4km/h… On trains (56 journeys), buses (about 24), boats (7 – 4 ferries, one fluvial boat, one cargo and one cruiser) and even cars (8 of which 3 hitch-hiked rides and 3 car sharings) and one motorbike ride.

 

To finish, I won’t do any statistics about the people I’ve met (I only know they were many), but I need to say they are present in my mind as I close this post. Some remained strangers who had a nice word or a useful indication for me on a train, a street or a hostel. Others became new friends, but as often happens the brief relationship didn’t survive time and distance. I wait for chance to have us meet again someday. A few, however, kept in touch, against distractions, lost e-mails and delayed answers. The true dilemma as one comes back from such a journey is to decide what to do next, knowing that it might be very difficult to see each other again. Chats or video calls don’t replace a face-to-face encounters. But I’ll be looking for opportunities to make old the new friends. In the meantime I want to thank the old and less old friends for being there, and having been there. You’ll always be welcome wherever I am, and I hope to soon have the possibility of giving back the hospitality I’ve enjoyed from you.
Good luck!

On and off the Silk Road and the Transiberian

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I can’t resist starting this post with another train. But this time it won’t be for the jokes. More precisely, with a station. One in the very middle of Asia, surrounded by hostile and desolated landscapes. A huge one like most in this country, all modern and design. I allowed some extra time to reach my platform.

Continuer la lecture de On and off the Silk Road and the Transiberian →

A difícil despedida à Ásia do Sul-Este

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Aqui estou de volta aos comboios chineses, às suas paisagens deslumbrantes (ainda que enevoadas) de campos de arroz em socalcos, vales silvestres e penedos rochosos, à amena mas incompreensível cavaqueira dos companheiros de viagem e à barulheira por vezes ensurdecedora. Para além da intermitente rádio de fundo e depois das vendas de refeições que passaram com o seu vozeirão esteve agora aqui, por um bocado, um exaltado de fato e camisa « smart casual » a vender escovas de dentes « carbono e bamboo » (a única coisa que consigo perceber da embalagem). E não é que este « Sr. Oliveira da Figueira » me conseguiu impingir 4, juntamente a metade da carruagem? Com isto estou equipado até ao fim da viagem, talvez mais além se cumprirem as promessas sem dúvida miríficas que ele fez. Mais tarde voltou com uma máquina de barbear à prova de água com lanterna incorporada e… luz ultravioleta para verificar a autenticidade de notas do banco. Por essa altura estavamos a atravessar os campos de « Flor do Sichuan » (da qual se produz um óleo picante) e deixei-me distrair pelas fofas almofadas amarelas espalhadas onde desse lá fora, no fundo dos vales, nas vertentes menos abruptas, no cimo das colinas, ao longo dos rios e caminhos, entre as casas ou nas clareiras. Continuer la lecture de A difícil despedida à Ásia do Sul-Este →

Le grand blanc en Thailande

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Ce n’est pas moi.  J’entends, le grand blanc, même s’il est vrai qu’ici à proximité des antipodes il est difficile d’échapper à l’étiquette « touriste », avec les associations d’idées qui vont avec, différentes selon la personne à qui vous parlez. Non, le grand blanc c’est cette longue période pendant laquelle le cerveau tourne à vide et l’esprit d’initiative renonce à tourner tout à fait. Ceux qui connaissent Felipe, l’ami de Mafalda, dans cette fameuse bande de Quino savent de quoi je parle… « Bon, maintenant je me lève et je fais mes devoirs » (ceux qui ne connaissent pas, cherchez, tiens; en version originale ça donne: « Ya mismo me levanto y voy a hacer los deveres… »). Continuer la lecture de Le grand blanc en Thailande →