thephotowalla1

[thephotowalla1]

The around the world ride on my motorcycle seemed to be full of outstanding landscapes and awe inspiring highways, then I rode the KKH and everything seemed to be another level.

[thephotowalla1]

‘Holy fucking shitballs!’ The words tumbled out of my shivering lips as the frozen Antarctic air moved briskly through the harsh southern Patagonian landscape. I am pissing my pants in laughter as I see Terry hurtle past me down towards the river. ‘It’s fairly cold in there mate!’ I shouted, trying hard not to fall over in my fits of laughter. The wind had been ferocious for most of yesterday and last night. I was tired and my twenty eight dollar Kmart tent was holding up quite well in conditions that had me feeling like I could be doomed at any moment.

Terry on the other hand was not so lucky, unable to sustain his resilience had him scampering into a nearby refugio in height of the storm. I waited it out trying not to think about cuddling up to the Japanese girl that lay beside me. She was stuck in the storm and asked if she could shelter for the night and for my moral contentment I said yes. I woke up early that morning, and while the Japanese girl slept I crawled out of my tent and immediately saw that Terry was gone. I had met Terry only a few days before in a small bar in Punta Natales, a young English lad that had wanted to hike though the southern Patagonian mountains. My eye’s a little blurry and I wondered why he had taken off so early as the weather seemed to have, ‘you are going to freeze to death’ written all over it. I pulled myself together and walked down to the edge of the stream, I kneeled down and found a reflection in the water that had me wondering if I had taken a hallucinogenic.

‘Fuck a duck,’ I said staring into the calm pool. ‘I have only been out here a week and I look like dog shit.’ I splashed the water on my face as a grown exhaled from my mouth, ‘Christ almighty thats cold!’ I bellowed and was stunned for a frozen moment. When I come to it was there in the tree on the other side of the stream, I’m blind as a bat and with no glasses I had to squint to see what was there. ‘Terry’s bloody tent’ I giggled quickly amassing a deep laugh as he had no idea what had happened.

I strolled back to the tent to see if the Japanese girl was still there when Terry bounded past me toward the river. ‘All my shit is in there mate, fuck me!’ He yelled, cursing wildly in his London accent. I’m laughing like its Friday afternoon, and then it happened, he let out such a yelp that I thought he was dead on arrival.  His head hit the water like he had died in mid flight. By this time the Japanese girl had poked her head through the zipper wondering what all the commotion was about, she took one look at me in unprecedented state of laughter  and burst into fits without knowing the full story.

Not a word of a lie when I say that if an ice berg had of been floating past, I would not have been surprised, the water was that cold. Then his heads pops up gasping at the air like he was hyperventilating, for all I know he probably was. ‘What a fucking lunatic ! I yelled barely getting the words out due to the degenerative state I was in. As the Japanese girl and I watched on I could not help in that moment to feel that this is where I belong, immersing myself in the stories of others and being a part of the remoteness the world offers yet finding a simplicity within our Human interaction.

[thephotowalla1]

Momentum

I started to think of my first day of riding a motorcycle, rain had lashed the Himalayan valley throughout the night and I was scared to be completely alone in the world for the first time. The clouds sporadically sprinkled rain drops on me while I packed up the bike that morning. Thunderstorms had battered the mountains in the past days and I wondered if I was leaving on a wave of ambition rather than the calming thought of sensibility. It was the biggest decision of my life, to ride a motorcycle through a landscape so isolated that a moment alone here wondered if regret had ever really existed at all. I’ll never forget the moment when I kicked the bike over, gently eased it into first gear and rode off to a place where I wasn’t reliant on anything except the blurry line between my own truth and an ultimate destiny. I know now that to succumb to natures principles requires the humility of an unapologetic heart...

The sun peaked through the parting clouds as if the arms of comfort had engulfed me; I had found the person that I forgot to notice. I knew only one thing at that time, and that was everything from this point forward was based entirely on my decisions, my actions and my knowledge as a human being.

The morning was not too different than anything previous, a chia and a cigarette started the proceedings and with a little anxiety creeping in, a toilet break was definitely in order. I had packed my gear the night before, the new mode of travel meant that there was no particular time in which to be ready, no departure hour had infiltrated my thoughts, it was just me and my machine. A 1981 Royal Enfield motorcycle adorned my confidence, I didn't know it then but somehow she was going to become one of the truly great loves of my life.

A pair of old wooden doors lead out to the back garden, an extraordinary view welcomed my entry to the day as the Sun slightly bared its shine. My saddle bags were draped over my shoulder and I wondered where this day could possibly take me, what this decision in life could possibly show me. Then, it was just me, the world and a bike named Michelle.

The clouds had started to culminate into a darkness I was not prepared for, the water drizzled continuously throughout the early morning’s preparation, puddles already full from the days previous overflowed creating a less than ideal start. But for an instant, that thought was overshadowed by the immense beauty that inspired a conclusion that fear is only there to betray a foundation of faith in living the ultimate dream. I felt an overwhelming feeling of surrender come over me, here I was, a boy from a conservative blue collar town about to embark on the adventure of lifetime.

My mind was purely influenced by the quest for a liberation from restraint, unshackling a philosophy of contentment and a reliance on no other. My intelligence refused the invitation of a comfy room where the outside elements were forbidden to enter its tranquillity. I was packed and I was ready, ‘only God could stop me now’, I thought, negotiating the phrase several times to myself.

The condensation escapes my mouth with every breath, the high altitude keeps reminding me that life up here is at a much slower pace and it takes a couple of deep breaths before I kick over this splendid machine. The engine rolling over with its deep thumping sound fills me with anticipation, and sitting here any longer will only prolong the inevitable. The clutch is released, the engine beats its drum, the driveshaft crunches into gear and it all comes together as the romance of such a journey embellishes the moment. It is the beginning of another chapter in a life of living aimlessly.

Shouting words of exhilaration into this mountain expanse was now a regular feature of my vocal expression. The brisk air rushes in and around my helmet, the open face does not give any relief from the sprinkling rain that continuously perpetuates this moment of my entity. I look around at the mountain summits that rise sharply, disappearing suddenly into the dark and stormy clouds. It’s hard to concentrate, the beauty is unequal to anything I have ever witnessed.

It is a dry and desolate place where the earthly colours of the mountain ranges are only broken by the green cultivations of the valley floor and the glacial ice on the highest peaks mirror the bluest of skies. My fingers were numb as they gripped the handles of the 350 Bullet, venturing into the unknown was as pure as the crisp August air. Not in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that this day would turn into a six month, twenty thousand kilometre odyssey that would take me to the untamed reaches of the Indian Himalaya to the coconut fringed beaches of the Sub-Continents south. That day has changed my understanding of the freedoms within. The ice covered peaks materialise momentarily as the clouds part for a few seconds and summon my eyes to look deep into their stunning grandeur. The immense beauty that surrounds me of unexplainable beauty taunts my happiness to lose control momentarily.

The Indus river flows beside me as I rumble along the tarmac, the rain over the last few days has brought a level of flooding that makes me temporally question my decision and just as suddenly the sun breaks through the clouds and eases my anxiety to a point where my smile returns undefeated. “Those clouds look ominous up there”, thinking out loud as I see my first high mountain pass on this four hundred and fifty two kilometre pilgrimage. The road is not much more than a single lane track as it winds its way through the valley floor. From valleys of green agriculture to rock covered gorges the road sees no boundaries and my bike, although ageing, seems to caresses every corner with ultimate ease.

Ascending the Taglang La, a five thousand metre mountain pass is the first real feeling of aloneness, the wind howls through the rock strewn landscape, occasionally drowning out that deep thumping sound of this machine which reverberates hypnotically in the air around. ‘It’s getting really cold up here?’ The thought pondered for a while, I questioned if it was the fear of conquering such a mountain pass or the reality of the weather that had masked my judgment, but an answer comes quickly enough. It started to snow, with the warmth of my jacket the snow melted, only to freeze again in a matter of seconds. ‘It was definitely getting cold!’ my teeth suddenly chattering as the words spill from my mouth. I could see the gap between the giant peaks, at five thousand three hundred metres above sea level I wasn't expecting any miracles but I was hoping for a little respite from the snow. It wasn't heavy and it wasn't accumulating so this was a good sign that the ground had still not frozen and my fearfulness dissipated very quickly.

Prayer flags adorn the mountain vista, rippling wildly in the wind, I wondered how it was possible I had only found this now. The Himalayas spectacularly rise all around me, the snow had eased enough for me to park the bike up and feel the presence of mother nature circling the boundaries of myself that have yet to be uncovered. Valleys retreat into the distance from both sides of the pass and I find myself lost in a moment of discovery, falling slowly like the snow flakes around me I ease myself into this moments truth. My eyes closed softly and my head tilted back I let my existence be swept away as if another universe had emerged. I gradually made my way to the bike, glancing constantly and the environment around me I reluctantly let the journey continue.

The sweeping road cuts into the side of the mountain faces as I descend in the valley below. My heart beats heavily as I emerge into a place so astonishing that my emotions are swept through my body like the ocean meeting the land. I feel I am in some sort of dream state, a sub conscience kingdom welcoming me like Knight returning from battle. I hear a roar of energy echo off the valley floor dragging me deeper into fearlessness, I reach out and grab the heavens. My conscience returns and an understanding is revealed, its all real, I’m not dreaming, this is our home and I feel alive.

It was getting late, my goal was still many hours away and I wasn't sure whether to stay in the makeshift tent where I was drinking chai or have a crack at getting to my desired destination. It was then an Indian rider pulled up and give me the news. “Where are you trying to get to?” he said with a startled look in his eyes. “Pang”, I replied with a little cause for concern. Pang is also a tent city some 50kms form where I am “You can’t get there, mudslide last night and the road is blocked!”. “Oh what the Fuck!”, was my initial response as the thoughts of what to do feverishly began tearing holes in my brain. I asked what he was doing and he suggested that I return to Leh as quickly as possible! 

The chai was absorbed at break neck speed, the sun was shining her late afternoon light on the valley as I descended from the pass and with that came the knowledge of the approaching sunset. It was four o’clock in the afternoon, it had taken me six hours to get here and with only three hours of sunlight left my self imposed evacuation had to get underway immediately. By the time I had started to ascend the pass a dull light blanketed the mountainside, I knew that the retreating suns rays were all but consumed by the day.

Lost in as many thoughts as the mountain peaks around me, I had given up on the importance of concentration and I felt like I was floating in a dream. Crunch! It was the emptiness of the widening trench that gave my mind enough time to consider the options that were about to unfold, but not enough time to do anything about it. In the ensuing darkness I realised I couldn't see a bloody thing and the anxiety of trying to get back to the village of recommendation was fast becoming an overwhelming sensation. I was pushing more and more and then without a clue as to what I had cannoned into, I was airborne. I could only brace for the impact, willing the bike to fall softly like a feather drifting through the tranquil air. The end scenario was a far different story and by the time the dust settled had a bruised ego, broken chain and a luggage rack completely in bits.

The ideal place to break a bike was a long way away from where I was perched high on the dark side of the mountain. I found solace in the fact that the day could not be more unsympathetic to my cause and rather than contemplating in a zen like fashion, I freaked the fuck out and sweated balls for a good ten minutes. “Christ!”, I muttered to myself, ‘day one and I am already looking for my tool kit.’ Of course me being of outstanding intelligence packed the tools somewhere near the most inaccessible section on the bike. After virtually stripping the bike to get them, I found it. As I laid out the tool roll my eyes lit like a child in a lollie shop, I shouted to the gods “there you are, my savour!”.

I was regularly told from a friend of mine, always carry in your tool kit a spare spark plug, a few tools and a couple of exceptionally rolled joints. Why they have to be exceptional I wasn't sure at the time, but in that moment I understood those fine words of wisdom. Its when you see an exceptionally rolled number in a crisis then all the worries seem to disappear for a while. I lit the joint and drew back a long and tiresome breath, the stone hit me with a sudden wave of euphoria. Collapsing under the breathtaking scene my troubles had momentarily disappeared.

But eventually you need to come out of that delusional stupor and try and get back on the road. A couple of Indian men turned up in an old worn out jeep and give some advise, pointing fingers, giving orders. There were so many sets of hands grasping at things that I nearly passed out from the confusion. In the end I let them take care of it and prayed that their accomplishment be in my favour and I make it back to the journeys original departure point.

Twilight in the Himalayas is an extraordinary experience, by the time I made it back to the pass for the second time that day the sky had turned a deep orange, pink and purples splattered the evenings canvass as I was caught between the progressive motion of my motorcycle and this moments emotion thrown together by circumstance. The mountains lit up in a rainbow of colours with the hint of clouds still lingering in the distance. I was absolutely awestruck, again, I wasn't sure what to think anymore, seeing, feeling, experiencing all what I have had on this first day was a frightening sensation. “How am I going to deal with all this?”, was a very frequent question revolving in my head. But it was here, on this mountain pass I had started something special and still so very far from realising it.

A group of riders joined me on this spectacular afternoon, they were heading in the direction I had just come from. Formalities were exchanged and the conversation soon evolved into the present predicament. I told them about the story of the mudslide somewhere near Pang, I left them to deliberate their own scenario as I had a few more moments to lose my grip on reality once again.

I said my goodbyes and good-lucks, mounted my machine and headed back toward Leh. I was in a rhythm, concentrating on this evenings greatest excuse to ride like the wind. An over exaggeration I must say but at the time I felt like a surge of air holding tightly to this mountain road, cascading thoughts driven by its desire to combine an invincibility to the inevitability and all the while patrolling the outer edges of my boundaries spectrum.

By the time I reached the bottom of the valley, the riders I met on the Tanglang La had an undisputed ambition to get to Leh as fast as possible.They passed me before I could lift my eyes from the darkening road. The sunlight had all but disappeared into antiquity and with still many hours of riding ahead of me I decided to hold up in a small village that I had passed earlier in the day. The coolness in the air was substantial enough to abandon the thought of taking a cold shower and I unpacked my gear and collapsed onto my bed. Catching thoughts of an extremely tumultuous day my energy just seemed to disappear in an instant and with my eyes effectively closed, I knew I had to eat something before I drift off into another fantasy.

I walked through the corridors ducking in and out of rooms until I found the eating area. The electricity had been non existent for a while so the glow of candles were my only source of direction as I fumbled my way into the kitchen. ‘ Namaste’ I said softly, trying not to frighten the woman cooking over the gas fired stove. An older woman turned first, smiling as I asked about the possibility of food.

‘Namaste bhai, thali you want?’ The woman cooking replied and with very little time to draw breath I responded with a very hungry yes.

I wandered through to the eating area and come across the group of riders I had met on the Tanglang La only a few hours before. The initial surprise succumbed quickly to relief as I joined their discussion on the situation that had unfolded and we had found ourselves in.

The stillness of the night had already surrendered to the fast approaching storm, the lightning that flashed was a constant reminder that not everything goes to plan when riding through these unpredictable mountain valleys. But I was so drained that after the initial thoughts of the approaching storm were quickly overwhelmed by the tightening of my already starved stomach. The storm closed in, raindrops started pounding the straw covered ceiling and the feeling of a very long night had started to ease into my thoughts. By the time the food was finished and conversation done, a hardy weariness had gatecrashed our bodies and effectively ushered all of us to our awaiting beds.

The water rushed in, my saddle bags placed upon my mattress huddled around my body. The light bulb flickers anxiously above as the moisture from my breath is caught within the darkness that momentarily exists between the shimmering  glow.

The overflow of the lashing Himalayan thunder storm had not only caught me by surprise, I could see through a small gap in the mud and stone wall where the Ladahki family were also huddled together on an elevated surface. Making sure my kit was relatively dry I made my way through the ankle deep water. The candle light paved my vision as I stumbled to see if the situation could get any worse. They told me to stay away from the water and off the floor, afraid of being struck by lightening I was hurried back to my sleeping quarters. I was puzzled by their reaction but the language barrier had me not questioning their motives and I quickly stammered back to by bed and tried to sleep off the brutal storm.

The day had started with a nervous smile, it radiated to the world that this is the day I abandon all the trepidation that I had bestowed on myself and accepted the moment of infinite probabilities. The ghosty saturation of the flickering light and rumbling echo around me had me staring into the nights mystic. A perception of how I see myself had penetrated my thoughts, from within a place that awakens the real truth of who I am. My mind wanders as my heavy eyes close, brushing away realities and replacing them with reverie.

It’s the hardest thing of all, trying to see yourself from the inside rather than the outside. It seems that every time I step out of the last place I laid my head I put on a mask, a kind of false realisation that I think other people expect. Like the smile on the outside and a sadness within or that seemly grumpy attitude for a moment in the day will be perceived and judged by some as a weakness rather than a truthfulness. So I needed to put myself away from yesterday and ask myself if I have really connected with the truest form of my inner being, today. 

Riding alone on those days where nobody really knows where you are or who you are, just you and two wheels on some of the remotest, dangerous and exceptionally beautiful roads in the world and all you can do is talk with yourself, studying the reactions of the world outside, contemplating your deepest feelings because your whole world at that moment is on the finest of edges. You put yourself into another dimension, practicing every minute on your ability to communicate with yourself and the incredibleness around you. There are a million snapshots of life bombarding your brain at any one moment, not knowing if the next vision is going to kill you or going to save you. Then at the end of it all you make it, like another day in a perfectly normal life you only think of the bed that will lay your emotion filled body for at least this night. So as I pulled down the mosquito net on my bed that night and thought of the experience no one else has shared, I realised I am capable of doing almost anything that this life throws at me.

[thephotowalla1]

You know, things take time to reveal themselves in such a way that a few beautiful moments spent with someone normally takes 10000miles to discover. But it’s those 10000 miles you realise that the distant travelled ended up creating a space behind your eyes to find a love that was right in front of them all along. It will always be a mystery to me why an illusion always precedes a reality.

And when you finally get back to the place where home is just a street number and your real home is packed up with the very things that make you believe there’s a possibility to create the ultimate universe where you belong. Its hard to discover that no one cares for what you have seen or who you have become and eventually you find yourself going back to the same job you have been dong for what seems like centuries, in a place where the only thing that has changed is you and the only way forward is backward…

[thephotowalla1]

Okay, so this is me..

10000 Km's on riding through India since I saw you last has been an experience that very few people will ever feel in their whole entire lives. But for me something has changed the way I see everyone and everything. When I left Nepal it felt like I was in no mans land, there was a love for India of course and then a love for Kathmandu and especially a love for my bike but it was the train ride back along the plains of northern India where I sat in the doorway of carriage number 3 sleeper class that I realised that I am here to learn about me and who I am and from every single person I have met along a sometimes a hard, sometimes a crazy but everytime amazing winding road where I think I am so alone that words can hardly tell you the full story and its truth.

So im going to write something written from my journal and the place was Mumbai. Dont think about this as bad or im losing it, I'm not and dont even try to understand it because its written exactly how i thought of it, word for word, just some emotions I felt when I entered this place, and i wrote it all on a napkin from Leoplolds Cafe sometime in January 2011...

" Okay, now I'm sitting in Leopold's cafe where India itself was going to be where India would become a great love in my life. It first happened after I read the book Shantaram where the love stared to grow for this incredible country, and its the place where in the book one man says to another " There is nothing that greives more deeply or more pathetically than one half of a great love that was never mean't to be" Page 373 of Shantaram. This quote will stay with me for a long time to come because it seems to be the only one that related to this part of my life. Its funny how when something relates so much to your feelings that when a relationship falls and the dust settles the only thing I seem to have is a desperate and pathetic heart that falls deeper into the uncertainty of a life where my heart and soul seems all to familiar with. Maybe I can see a light right now but maybe its just a mirage where my eyes are confused by an ever clouded vision of trust and love. You know Im wondering how can I be so lost in a country where I have felt like I have made love to the most beautiful woman everyday of my life? And because I am lost I struggle to find a direction which I should follow, where my heart and aura should be allowed to find a place which I long for. Everyday at home I feel like this and this is what I was afraid of I think? When you have a life so special and all you can do is sit, take it all in, listen to your favourite song on some distant radio that takes you to a place so special, so incredible that the freedom and sprituallity and a closeness that I felt for myself can not be explained or expressed but to just one person...Just me.... And this is a fear that scares the shit out of me.

But I guess tomorrow is another day, another time and another place and this thought alone keeps me alive and gives me a hope that I will find direction and I will find love where uncertainty in life is the only hope I have.

So went to the show last night in Mumbai (Rajasthan Roots) and man they were awesome but it was here that I found out that our ride together has ended and everything at that moment felt empty. Nearly two months together has ended so i guess another two more has started. Nervous? Yes! Scared? Yes! Anyways we all need to break free from a comfort zone that creeps up on us even in the most perfect of situations, long live the freedom in our souls and in the sprit of humanity! Actually I like What just wrote, funny I'm actually starting ti like what I write. I am so honest on this bit of napkin but very rarely honest to myself. The only way I feel to get this out is writing about everything thats on my mind. You know as corney as it all sounds its honesty that I feel is negected within my walls and that mask I put on everyday cause I feel that being good enough in societies rules is an occupation that takes its toll on us, physically and mentally. But in all this pain I feel for this part of my life I can honestly say that I have LIVED and when you live you really do start to love and I have loved four times on this journey so far and hopefully there'll be even more just around the corner. So where to next? Hampi? Maybe Rajasthan? We'll see what happens when Sandra gets here she might just lead me in the right direction.

Mumbai! What as cool city man! Everyone seems to be so happy and friendly and westernised, it seems kinda surreal, especially when everyone seems to speak perfect english and to be honest the women are incredibly beautiful. Now I'm smoking a spliff which I love at anytime but right now I'm riding in the back of a jeep through the streets and alleys of Mumbai and being stoned in this city is quite bizarre. I actually jumped out of the jeep during a traffic jam just to meet the taxi driver behind us and this alone was a nice little stoned experience to my already huge list! But Mumbai is a place where you fall for it as soon a you come here. Not that Mumbai is a part of my four great loves in the past year but for writings sake, here they are.... India (you know how I feel about her!), Kathmandu (You know how I feel about her!), My Enfield (You know how I feel about her!) and Michal (You definitely know how I feel about her!) "

[thephotowalla1]

A repression of hope

I sit here staring into another life, my eyes and brain are responding to two totally different realities. Circumstances of being are withered away and transformed, culminating in a mind bending dream sequence where a blazing December sun drops below the horizon on a cloudless Arabian sky.

But there’s a blink, a tiny moment of betrayal that’s hidden somewhere between a consciousness and enlightenment, it’s a hate buried deep inside a soul, engulfing memories that once lit the spark of freedom. But the spark has faded into the universal black hole that strikes the few that see beyond the great mask of societies needs. It takes control, spinning so violently that light from our hearts begin to fade until it disappears altogether. A moment of truth surfaces and all of a sudden we are back in the realms of certainty, our focus is restored to its former self and a virtual existence returns to a world that is forced upon us and it surrounds us with an endless array of…

TOTAL FUCKING WANKERS!"

[thephotowalla1]

Well I’m pretty sure that Saturday mornings are a rare reminder that we can all do what ever the fuck we want without anyone ever giving a shit. So I’ve woken up, looked around and wondered where the fuck I was. It never occurred to me that after that J and glass of wine that the world could disappear without any trace of an existence only 40 kms away, in a life so documented by rules that even just to scratch your arse could very well be observed by the sports minister himself.

But there I was, Friday afternoon, stepping off the boat onto… well, perfection? Not an over exaggerated word when you consider that the first step off is into a sand so soft and golden it makes every other beach in the world seem inferior. But that’s not why I came; I came because I need to stop all the bullshit that flies around us constantly, bullshit that someone in a higher position thinks is cool because their highly paid job requires them to fuck over everybody on the rung down until it finally hits the people on the bottom. Its then that their highly paid job gives them a power so intense that a new wave of bullshit comes thicker and faster until it starts hanging off their lies and words with no clue of the pure ugliness that if it were seen in a mirror, would surely end their lives. And all for the sake of what? I tell you what, so they can tell their other wanker friends about who they shit on that day or that week or whatever, so it makes them feel so special that their self indulged importance seems to great for the world to handle. And they’ll keep doing it until they’re so fucking fat that a 3 minute labour intensive moment means they have to get up off their arses to get a coffee. And these people think they’re important? Typical fucking dickheads if you ask me.

Now lets pray, God almighty I think we need another flood…Amen

Anyways where was I? oh yeah, and as I step off the boat I have realised that I had left life waiting on another planet. The sudden erg of nothingness takes hold throughout my body as the sand filters through my feet until they disappear, completely buried along with the very rules that force me to live a lie under the banner ‘Lucky’. I don’t think I understood the pace of life until I stepped off that ferry and heard the screech in the sand. When you hear that screech you know that its there telling you to slow down, take a look around, take in a deep breath, then open your eyes to the real world…

[thephotowalla1]

The time was a place

The smoke filled the room like a dust storm in an outback desert while the last colony of a free species just sit here, sipping our whisky and talking shit until the early hours of this autumn morn. Who really knows what day it is, let alone the numbers that ticked by on the beer branded clock that sits above a lonely old bar. I see the empty souls that lay scattered around us, surrendering to the night and beaten by the will of her soul. I was somewhere in the back ally's of this great cities incredible vibe, washing down the stories with a single malt and letting our minds wander through the smoke of Amsterdam's finest. In these hours, when the angst of life is forgotten and time is left to its inevitable destiny, I find something that no longer waits for me, it finally accepts me.

An end to the proceedings was now a distant memory and the aftermath of misbehaviour was left to a circle of wanderers that surrounded the last alcohol drenched bar. The shadows of the early morning are beginning to land around me, my eyes still looking into the nights last gasp as the virgin sunlight struggles to penetrate. I watch as the bar stools leave the ground floor, they are placed atop the nearest tables so carelessly they wobble like a ship full of drunken sailers in a storm. Half smoked cigarettes are spilling out over the ash trays as the ignorance of those that are left seem to become deeply tolerated by all that are present. And the music, man the music it's trying to buckle the air waves around me even when a whisper is all I can hear. The words are no longer making sense, the young group of twenty something's sit conversing as if the United Nations had inadvertently missed the crucial turn and ended up in a coffee house somewhere hidden in time. I saw their conversations evolve from where the best bud in the world was from to the best place in the world to smoke it, the craziest people you meet to the craziest people we become, from our worlds far away to the world we have become, Gods children are finally crossing paths.

Its when the moments happen and are told, then you know that the society outside will be lost, and the importance of wonder and intrigue will go unchallenged by anyone except us. Our choices will be enhanced by the actions of others, by the direction of their hearts, and the stories of their time. This is Amsterdam…