بڵاوکراوەتەوە: 11.02.2019
Day 129
First of all, gone. Out of the city where I was for 18 years and into the world. Away from everyday life and routines, away from the comfort zone, away from familiar faces, familiar environments, and familiar things in general. That was my thought when I realized at the beginning of last year that I had to go on a journey. The school chapter was over and a new one had to begin. A new chapter in which you are simply away temporarily. And that's what I am now.
Like so many peers, I set off on a journey at the end of the summer. Like so many young people, I also took a plane after school on the way to a new chapter. Finding yourself. Realizing the journey of life. Becoming a new person. These are poetic phrases that I never actually used. But actually, it's true. With all the experiences you collect on such a journey, you naturally don't just want to have a good time, but also learn more about yourself and how the world actually works. And as individually as my own personal experience and that of all other travelers may seem, the desire to let go and escape is somehow universal. Every year, thousands of high school graduates are driven to every corner of the earth, all of which return with various impressions, which ultimately makes traveling, regardless of the scope and circumstances, damn individual.
And then there is, of course, the question of why we even travel, which I could try to fathom in pseudo-philosophical formulations, but I can't really answer it. To get to know new countries, people, and cultures is always the standard answer. There's definitely something to it. But that's only part of the answer. Actually, we, or at least I, always see such a journey as a challenge. Besides, you naturally want to see beautiful places. Sounds a bit humorless, but why else would you fly to New Zealand? Exactly for this reason. But not only. You also do it to be in the country that is farthest from Germany, to be able to say that you slept in a car for three months, to be able to write in your resume that you worked on a kiwi farm, to get to know life without a washing machine and dishwasher, and to gain a new perspective. These are all things that should be mentioned when asked why you are traveling actually. At least that's what I think. In a rough and summary way, one could also call it "collecting experiences," but that sounds too boring for my blog. Now, after about four and a half months on the road, Linus and I have experienced so much that we can hardly believe what we are actually doing here. The phrase "What are we actually doing here?" has become a running joke for the two of us and is said quite often, for example, when we are walking along a deserted highway with heavy luggage in wind force nine, looking for a supermarket. Or when we drive around in pouring rain with a 27-year-old car on the gravel tracks of the "Te Urewera" National Park without any hope of civilization and just look at each other in confusion. "I don't know," the other usually answers. And sometimes we really don't know. But the more often we know exactly why we are doing all this. When we are the only ones lying on a deserted island on the South Island of New Zealand, lying on the white sandy beach and jumping into the crystal clear water afterwards. When we cook our rice on a campground in the jungle and exchange ideas with other backpackers. When we make fun of one or the other German in New Zealand. When we eat the best beef of our lives in Buenos Aires or stand in front of a glacier in the south that simply leaves us speechless with its indescribable dimensions. And I could list so much more. The question of why we actually make this journey or why people generally travel is sometimes quite simple and then again so difficult. To get away first, as I thought a year ago.
Now I know that there is much more to it. That there are many more reasons. And yet, sometimes I still don't understand it. Maybe that will only come when we have been back in Germany for a long time. When I'm old, wise, sitting in my rocking chair, and finally know what it was all about. But until then, I'll try to enjoy the rest of the journey more comfortably as it comes.
It's going quite well here in this café where we are sitting now and drinking our Submarino.
After leaving Ushuaia, the southernmost place in the world and thus also the southernmost point of our route, behind us, half of our round trip through southern South America is at least geographically over. Now it's ocean instead of Andes. After our journey along the world's second-largest mountain range towards the south, it's now going back to the north in the eastern part of the country. We are on the Atlantic coast, in Rio Gallegos.
Since Ushuaia, not much has actually happened. After everything we have experienced so far, we want to take it a bit easier on the coast in general for the next few weeks. Once we leave the south, it will finally become more summery again, and we can relax on the beach for the next few weeks, just like we're doing here in the common room of the accommodation in the cold.
There is enough time to think a little. About the journey and everything in general. It's good to do that from time to time. In addition, there is not much else to do in this rather bleak Rio Gallegos anyway, as sad as it may sound. And then tomorrow we will continue along the coast towards the north, further on the journey, and further in the chapter away.