16.08.2015 Vigo, Spain

Spain. Small camping not far from Vigo, Galicia’s main port. Two days have passed since I left the Bardou. Another European country on my way.

In my head raging storm and it echoed the dreams. Every day I dream so realistic that many times per night I wake up, often in a vain attempt to understand the reality of what I am. The price paid for impressions … This exhausts my already shakiness consciousness. I often think about what I have left, and like Ted Simon, I doubt that I could bear such pain again. Sometimes I find a confirmation of my sanity only that I can interact with the public without harm for them and for myself. A very vague concept. But who among us is healthy? Normal people do not travel in such way anyway.

That storm consists of two opposites, tearing each other, trying to take my mind entirely. On the one hand is the complete uncertainty of the future, lack of finance, lack of any chord. Just hopes which reality carefully wipes, managing to introduce the best worst. My slogans now is “better than nothing” and «I just go». The best excuse for despair, is not it? On the other hand, and I’m just starting to realize it – the beauty. Comprehensive, stunning, flooding the brain cells, beauty. It is everywhere. In the mountains, on the road, in the ocean. Even now, in the silhouettes of palm trees illuminated by yellow lights highway in fog and drizzle. In humans. Though people here lose badly to what some call “eastern mentality.” Locked in their own world, they are not interested in anything else. It’s disgusting. Only in the oldest ones survived desire for the unusual, for what is not from their own little world. And this is multiplied their greatness in comparison with the ever-bustling young people with shifty eyes. But it’s not about them. About Beauty. Nothing can give such feelings as traveling. You can visit the thousands of museums and listen to hundreds of hours of classical music, but none of this even a mile is not close to what I see and feel every day. And the new, seen by me, leaving me in the particles of the present. Ocean – I’ve never seen the ocean. I was close more than once, but something did not allow me to feel it. That rush, sudden plans, you name it. Perhaps this event were saving itself for a special occasion, like my journey. I think that’s why travel are the best way of perception aesthetics – anywhere and in any way is no longer possible to see and feel what you learned in the journey. Every morning, in addition to severe head from dreams, fills me with excitement from the realization that I will soon again look behind the corner. And the excitement does not remain unanswered – even the provincial road is able to bestow hail delightful views. This is not a work of art or documentary film. This is my movie. Every minute I gasp in admiration.

… The day before yesterday was Bilbao. Large port, said to me William. Large port, echoed Internet. Damnit, that’s not a port. It’s a city. The port itself in a couple of tens of kilometers, in the town of Portugalete. In which I found some local holiday (in the latter camp barman said that it seems the 15th of August each town on it’s own holiday). Private port, where I was still admitted in spite of the holidays, and the secretary of the International Sailors Club, which does not speak any other than Spanish. International, yes. Bad luck.

Next was Sanantander just to stand overnight and ask. Yes, a small port. But the bartender at the camp was a replica of the main character from the film Across the Universe, grumbling that nobody wants to work. Nice fellow.

And now, Vigo. Small camping not far away, bad weather … Near the ocean it is cold, even in Spain. Me again surrounded by doubts about the port, this negative part of the consciousness regains strength. It is best to help myself with the music. It joins the general flow of observable beauty and helps tame the dark side of consciousness. We will see …

13.08.2015 Still in Bardou

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Concert. Wondrous beauty of the concert in wondrous beauty spot. And the evening buffet a little later in the house, which is called “The Tower”. The twilight of candles and pale lamp creates a feeling like the air filled with talk, feel and passion. People from around the world are smiling and laughing. What made them all go this far? Probably, the atmosphere that I try in vain to describe in words.

The atmosphere … The others. And events. Everything merges into some stream that fills my veins, brings a sense of great joy, but confuses thoughts.

The next day after my arrival, in the early morning, I went to the house of Jean to ask what I can do, where to attach my hands. She gave me directions to wait for William, who will explain everything I need.

William. The old man, an American who has lived for 16 years in Bardou. Always on his mind, looks angry, but with very big kind heart. He is the only one who lives in the village throughout the year, in addition to Jean. And accordingly he deals with all technical matters of the village. It’s amazing how everything comes into peace when there is no comfort and other things arranged by our new century. All of the “benefits” of civilization, which we do not even think about, here is a matter of every day. Water, for example. There are two sources of water, mountain streams, winter and summer. Both lead to the tanks, which are a kind of buffer. The level in the tanks is necessary to watch, otherwise the village will remain without water. The vagaries of nature …

The first day, and my first task – to clear the shortcut trail to the tanks, which is overgrown with a couple of years ago. Armed with bolt cutters, saw and rake, a hat and a bottle of water, I set to work. Several hours later, the road was cleared, and I’m, pleased with myself, returned to the village to report on the successful completion of the mission.

On the second day, William asked me to deepen the pool for the winter watershed, which I did, climbed up by the bottom of dry creek and waved a couple of hours with a shovel. It was as if I was in the world which is perfect to me. I workv with my hands and do useful things – and it gives me real pleasure indeed. I went down to the village, jumping on the rocks with a shovel on my shoulder, singing a song. Oh, Bardou … You breathed life into me so much that I do not know how to thank you.

On the third day in a small amphitheater company of German musicians gave a concert. Quartets and quintets succeeded each other, delighting the ear. William and I climbed higher and away from the public, and enjoyed the music and beer, which brought William. Beautiful, beautiful moments.

After the concert in the highest building, the Tower, festivities happened over the last concert, which I wrote at the beginning. Lovely food and lots of wine. In one of the moments I found myself in the center of the company, which begged to sing something in Russian. I have a musical hearing, but absolutely do not have musical voice. The performance was terrible, oh, it’s all wine! Strange relationship I have with this drink … However, definitely the party was a success, and I spent quite a lot minutes of fun, telling my story to everyone curious. The people were nice and pleasant, a great evening!

I talked to Jean and her daughter, Elizabeth. At some point they asked me to describe on a paper briefly my story of arriving in Bardou. It was an idea that came to their minds when they met with me. Collect stories that led people in Bardou, and then publish a book about it. Suddenly I felt myself once again identified with Ted Simon, author of the book «Jupiter’s Travels». A lot of thoughts in this book were beaten to the point of my reflections. So this time, I felt like turbulence around my journey inspires other people to great ideas.

The next day I was invited to dine by William. He is the amazing person. I am increasingly convinced that the fate directs me to those who is an amazing diamonds in the soil of our sorrowful world. For dinner, it was a classic American steak, accompanied by gin. Then beer and Cuba Libre with the Caribbean rum. Here, again I do not even know how to describe this evening. In the twilight, in a room full of little beautiful things, to the accompaniment of classical music from a neighboring house, we talked about everything. About the people of the country, about music, about movies … Again, I felt happy, because everything inside me dragged to such kind of people, which can not be found in “normal” life. There is no end to the surprises that I feel in this strange journey. Could I imagine like that, when crossed the threshold of my house? Definitely not. All these thoughts inspire and lead me on, even despite the fact that my finances started to show the bottom of a purse … We will see …

09.08.2015 Bardou, France

I ride up on unsafe thin track. It climbs the hill, and I clamber over it. Finally, small flat ground and a lot of parked vehicles (hmm, I thought it would be a bit of tourists). I got to the Bardou – hidden deep in the mountains tiny village with a very unusual story. I find a place for a motorcycle and go above the trail. Behind the corner came first stone houses, which have found their place in the gorge slopes. From the nearest house shed gentle and slightly cantankerous piano melody. Under that accompaniment I come to sign with the word “Tavern” decorated with a feather.

Inside it is really a grand piano, which was played by a girl having collected a full house of grateful listeners. To Interrupt it occurs would be too rude, so I sat down and listen from the outside. Music is delightful and time flies. At one of the moments from the nearest corner comes a peacock who decides to share the melody with its own singing. It turns out very funny. Pleased himslef peacock leaves. I continue to admire the surroundings in a beautiful musical accompaniment. The look falls on the mini-poster nearby. What a coincidence! Piano player is my compatriot, Natalia Morozova. Trully you never able to guess what has been prepared by another turn.

After a while the music fell silent and I heard lengthy applause and after comes quietly served buffet. People go out with glasses in hand, eagerly discussing the performance. Among them, I try to guess Jean Rauch.

Jean Rauch and Klaus Erhardt, the wife and the husband, who in 1968 bought up all areas of the village. More precisely, of what was left of it. The village was abandoned for a long time, and its population was 1 person who owned 40% of the village. Owners of the remaining 60 had to look surprisingly at two people’s strange idea to buy a plot in a remote abandoned place. After that, the couple more than 25 years restored village bit by bit. Not without the help visitors. You could stay here any longer with meals three times a day. One condition – 6 hours a day for the benefit of the village. Village was visited by a great number of wonderful people, and the houses named after their restorators. Amazing place.

I waited until the general excitement of the performance comes a bit cooler and walked to the aged woman, which I’m guessing Jean Rauch (Klaus passed away in 2009). I introduced myself and conveyed regards from Uwe. My little story made a good impression, I was introduced to the guests and the performer; fed, watered and got the key to the small house where I now write these lines by candlelight. Outside, the wind howled and in combination with twilight sets a comfortable sleep.

Hopefully tomorrow will be a lot of things to do for a long time I did not worked by my hands for a long time.

08.08.2015 Gran Canyon du Verdon, France

Well, what a day!

Last day did not bring anything interesting. All autostradas in Italy are tollroads, so screw them – such thoughts were expressed indignation in my mind after I paid almost 40 euros for the way from Milan to Rome. So I happened to stray on SSG1, but it’s a sin to complain about that – road goes along the coast, sometimes revealing stunning views. I was hoping that the fresh breeze facilitate my movement and weaken the envy of local bikers, racing in shorts and T-shirts. But in vain – no breeze. And again +37 in the shade. On the morning priority goal is to get up, pack up and leave early to pass at least part of the road without hellheat. And of course that goal usually unsuccessful. So it happens again. I decided to take a dip in the Mediterranean in the morning – I took instructions about way to the sea at the reception and eventually wandered for two hours, storming the fences and getting into private area (campsite is 2 kilometers from the sea, but cheap!) while right path to the sea takes only 20 minutes. Mediterranean – cold and boring … hmm. But I put a tick! Checked. In the end I left very late.

Most of the way I just went through the Italian Riviera watching the little and not-so resort towns. Here as usual is dancing and fun but it was a bit strange not to feel myself as a part of companies having fun. Watching the dolce vita I slid farther hoping to get to Turin. But in vain – the darkness overtook me for Genova. I tried to look for camping – without success. The Italians seemed ashamed of this kind of vacation, each time to find the camping GPS points is a quest. No signs, no pointers. I hardly fight temptation to take a picture of my middle finger and the tablet with GPS points and an empty field on the background.

As a result, I found the service road under exit from highway and once again put the bolt on the prohibition of vagrancy. Pitched tent near someone’s vineyards, in the grass. Again, I slept like a log! I think I starting to like it!

The next morning foreshadowed finally move to France. Uwe, that German friend from Sweden gave me a couple of must see points on my route, I put them into Navi and Mamma Mia!!!! I do not know how to describe it. I was thinking all day about it, but in my head did not come any ideas how to describe it in the text. It is simply impossible! How to describe the most beautiful things created by nature that I’ve ever seen? Mountain lakes, mountain almost dry rivers, waterfalls, overhanging cliffs, tunnels, mountains, clouds … Photos did not help – I reviewed them all. Of course, I will publish them with a stable Internet, but it’s not that … It’s not that. Not at all. Many times I have heard a lot about the Alps – but how to describe the feeling when you’re sitting on the edge of the Gran Canyon du Verdon, your legs dangling into the abyss, and you feel dizzy from the altitude, despite the fact that you are never afraid of it? That feeling of microscopic yourself compared with the creations of nature … Stelvio Pass – cold and eternal, while Verdon – is alive, it breathes. Huge, huge and alive … No word, though. I sat and smoked, legs dangling over the cliff and all I wanted to – no cars passing by in next minutes. Peace and unity with overwhelming. I thought I’ll smoke a cigarette and go, but could not budge for good 20 minutes and would have stayed for many more minutes but here comes twilight and subsequent attempts to find a campsite in the dark.

… The only thing I missing – human communication. Somehow lately there is problems with that. There is no interest in the communication from people, and anyway most of them do not speak English… It’s kinda sad.

P.S. Slightly improved karma dragged maxiscooter (with a torn belt) on the tow for 5km, near Turin. It was fun.

07.08.2015 Genova, still Italy

Every time I’m going to write a new report – something happens. Internet breaks down, electricity is over, someone will comes for internet chat… Lucky me, today is more or less turned out well. Electricity still unavailable (only tricorn outlet for camper vans, discrimination again), but I managed more or less to charge the tablet from the motorcycle. This is, by the way, is also not an easy task. Try charging the device in direct sunlight when in shadow it is +37 … All overheats instantly. And me too.

I rode not far from Rome, only 250km – because I started very late, messing with GPS suddenly decided to droop in the heat, that vaunted Garmin. Dance with a tambourine and stuff, you know.

Once again I drove past the highway, trying to stay close to the Mediterranean Sea. Beautiful views but raising heat and prices 1.70 euro per liter of petrol. It’s normal or local, probably. Not for me. And again mess with campsites. For my tent and motorcycle I was charged as a night at the hotel. Fortunately, for the fifth time I managed to find a plus or minus an acceptable place with the ability to wash my boots in this very Mediterranean sea. A total of 27 euros, uh huh. Just to put up a tent.

But beside all of that grumbling… I sit with tasty Birra Moretti about the scene with a man singing and watch the Italians. How they remind me of our Russian South! The same sloppiness to the rules, the same open-wide-fun, the same strong families. They know how to relax, able to have fun. It infects, and now you are silently tapped the heel to the beat watching dancing people of all ages. I want to stay in it longer, but at 11 pm as though someone pulls the switch of fun – and after ten minutes I see a desert place, and a folding mini-bar. No, it still cannot be compared to our South. Maybe it’s better for me now because tomorrow comes new page, and it’s time to crawl into my lovely tent. Cheers!