Trelograms #2 — Connected

What do you make out of this image? — people sitting next to each other seemingly lost in the world through their gadgets is a common sight these days, isn’t it?

Today i want to invite you to look beyond what the image might suggest and meet Daichi and Ryo Uchiyama, the people in it — when i approached them at a coffee shop in L’viv, Ukraine, introduced myself, and asked if i could chat with them for a little bit, they replied with excited interest, promptly closing the laptop and putting away the phone.

This friendly Japanese couple got married two years ago, and have been traveling together around the world on what they told me is their honeymoon ever since — 24 countries, and counting! In hindsight, i’m not surprised it was so easy to connect with them.

They take much more colorful pictures than me, some of which you can see in their Instagram  @tabiwalife — check it out!

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Featured photo: Daichi and Ryo Uchiyama chilling at the Kredens Café in Lviv, Ukraine ( Fall ’17 )


Thank you for reading!

This blog is a gift. If you find it valuable and would like to thank me, you may share this piece with someone who you think would benefit from it, consider making a contribution, or simply comment below — all of it will have some value to me along an important dimension <3

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Trelograms’ is a wordplay between ‘telegram’ and ‘trélos’ (Greek for ‘mad’)

Trelograms #1 — Isn’t Celebration Contagious!?

After 63 gruesome, bumpy, gravel road kilometers, was that a mirage, or indeed the beginning of a smooth, freshly paved road!?

I had to celebrate.

This fine gentleman was walking in the middle of nowhere with a 2.5-liter bottle of beer in one hand and an ax on the other — great combination! He duly reacted to my excitement, dropping the ax and running towards me — now overflowing in excitement himself, he opened the beer and insisted i filled up one of my water bottles with it.

I returned the gesture by offering him some of what was left of the rakija i got from my friends in Serbia before my departure a few days earlier — he put the little bottle straight into his back pocket :p — thinking the rakija could not be in better pockets now, i just asked him to take a sip of it so i could snap a picture. He then gave me a sincere, joyful hug, approximately 637 kisses on each cheek, and we parted ways —  i was now slightly tipsy, but very energized!!

Today, i want to invite you to celebrate. There must be something you’re grateful for today, no matter how small you think it might be —  make it a big deal and share it with someone! Feel welcome to share it with me by commenting below 🙂

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Featured photo: a villager somewhere in the Romanian countryside between Drobeta-Turnu Severin and Craiova ( April ’17)


Thank you for reading!

This blog is a gift. If you find it valuable and would like to thank me, you may share this piece with someone who you think would benefit from it, consider making a contribution, or simply comment below — all of it will have some value to me along an important dimension <3

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Trelograms’ is a wordplay between ‘telegram’ and ‘trélos’ (Greek for ‘mad’)

Trelograms #0 — The Chosen Narrow, Dark Tunnels Ahead

When i’m cycle touring — though perhaps also when i’m not — traffic is by far my greatest source of apprehension.

Once you’ve chosen to ride along the Iron Gates, the stretch of the Danube River flowing along the border between Serbia and Romania — or is it the border that flows along the river? — a series of 22 narrow tunnels varying in length from a few tens to a few hundreds of meters will be an inevitable part of your experience. One may then question their very decision to be there and turn back, or one may put on their reflective vest, turn on their lights, and cautiously but confidently carry on.

It’s beautiful.

What will you do?

Do you take the risks of ‘not doing’ something into account when making a decision?

In hindsight, i am quite grateful someone was there before me to build those tunnels!

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Featured photo: the second of the 22 tunnels along my way ( Serbia, April ’17 )


Thank you for reading!

This blog is a gift. If you find it valuable and would like to thank me, you may share this piece with someone who you think would benefit from it, consider making a contribution, or simply comment below — all of it will have some value to me along an important dimension <3

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Trelograms’ is a wordplay between ‘telegram’ and ‘trélos’ (Greek for ‘mad’)

Should I Get Pre-exposure Rabies Shots before Long-term Travel? — Director’s Cut

What i learned about rabies prophylaxis after being attacked by a dog on a long-term cycle tour.


UPDATED March 9th, 2019 — in revisiting this question to persuade my partner to take the shots in preparation for our upcoming cycle tour around Ukraine, i decided to put together a heartless version of this piece dropping much of my personal story and cutting straight to the technical information — if that’s what you’re looking for, click here — if you came here looking for some emotion, read right on!


Disclaimer: I am not a rabies or dog expert, and this article is for your information only — the following is based on my personal, anecdotal experience being attacked by a dog on a cycle tour, the conversations with doctors and Internet research in that context, and my personal travel and life philosophies. By continuing to read, you acknowledge that i am not liable under any circumstances for what you decide to do or not to do in reaction to this article — my only recommendation is that you inform yourself about the risk, and consult with your doctor and local health authorities before making any decision.

Sometimes dogs can be real bitches!

I’m currently out on a long-term cycle tour. Among other things, this means i spend much of my time on the bicycle riding secondary roads in the countryside, where farm dogs abound or entering/leaving villages/towns/cities, which in many cases subsumes dealing with packs of stray dogs.

I hadn’t had any problems with them so far besides their annoying, persistent, and mildly frightening chasing and barking after me until i left their imaginary territory. Having traveled by bicycle unharmed through more than 20 countries, including some notorious for their stray dogs such as Bulgaria, Romania, Serbia, and Turkey, i had already come to terms with that nuisance, and pretty much internalized the belief that, as long as i kept my cool and didn’t provoke them any further, or if their owner was present, they would never bite — until one of them did bite! — in Lithuania, unprovoked, and in front of their owner.

This happened while i was pulling near a house to ask for information outside the city of Alytus.

Fuck . . .

. . . i don’t want to go to the doctor — that’s too much responsibility! Can you imagine how much time this might take!? — and i’m not even worried about how much money it might cost yet . . .

I was up to date with my tetanus shots, and the wound was seemingly superficial — there was not much blood involved. So, i was not particularly concerned about bacterial infections, and it definitely didn’t look like i might need stitches or whatever. The puncture was a bit painful, in a way i don’t think i’d quite experienced before, but it was tolerable.

Rabies was quickly singled out as my greatest concern, and i seemed determined to get away from having to deal with it in the most stupid possible way.

I asked the owner, “might i get sick from this bite?” In the cacophonous haze i was eager to get myself away from as soon as possible — the dogs continuing to bark at me, their hopeless owner haphazardly yelling at them, presumably trying to contain them from biting me again, while also trying to give me the attention i was asking for, and mutually unintelligible utterances in Lithuanian, Russian, English and Portuguese — that’s what i came up with to type into my phone and have translated into Russian, which the owner said she could read — i had no access to the Internet, and had forgotten to download the Lithuanian package for use offline.

Although reading Cyrillic seemed to be a bit of a challenge for her, i got the sense that she understood my question, which she quickly dismissed — “no, no, no.”

Despite the language barrier, i felt validated enough, and moved on to what i had really pulled in to ask them about — “is it OK if i set camp near the river for one night?” — “sure, do you know how to get there?” — “i’ll figure it out, thanks!” — like i said, i just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

But, one last time — “do i need to go to the doctor for this?” — “no, you don’t need to go to the doctor, wait a minute” — she then came back with some hard liquor and cotton, with which she cleaned up the wound, and then applied a bandaid.

Whatever — i’ll clean it up again with my first aid kit once i find my campsite.

My first mistake

Folks, that’s not how you ask if the dog has been vaccinated against rabies. Here’s how you ask if the dog has been vaccinated against rabies:

“HAS THE DOG BEEN VACCINATED AGAINST RABIES? — DO YOU HAVE THE DOCUMENTATION? — CAN I SEE IT? — CAN WE PLEASE EXCHANGE CONTACT INFORMATION?”

That would have made it possible to monitor the dog. But i didn’t do any of that then, nor did i think about going back there the next day in the morning for it.

I did remember from a previous dog bite back in Brazil when i was a teenager that one typically has about ten days to start taking the rabies shots though and that i had already completed a post-exposure rabies vaccination schedule on that occasion. So, i figured that instead of rushing into an emergency room close to dark, i could leisurely look up on the Internet the next day how long the vaccine is supposed to last, the risk of getting rabies from a dog bite in a place like Lithuania, and perhaps swing by a doctor on my way to Kaliningrad.

Let’s figure this out

According to the World Health Organization’s Human rabies transmitted by dogs: current status of global data, 2015, the phenomenon is currently not observed in Lithuania. My risk of having been exposed to the virus was slim. But as far as i understand the data, it only tells us that there have not been any recently reported deaths by human rabies transmitted by dogs in the country — it doesn’t say anything about potential cases where the attacking dog was eventually found to rabid, and the victim survived because of the vaccine.

I could not find anything about that on the Internet, and decided a visit to the doctor was warranted after all — if only for the peace of mind and what i might learn from the experience of having to seek medical care on a cycle tour — how much trouble would that really be? — how much would it cost? — would my travel insurance be useful, would i get reimbursed? — would that be the kind of disruption i’d find interesting dealing with? — let’s just do this — that’s precisely why i left my previous career, hopped on a bicycle, and started riding around the world, isn’t it?

What i learned

The one thing about this disease that has always intrigued me was one of its infamous clinical symptoms — the fear/revulsion of water triggered by spasms that make swallowing difficult and give the disease one of its historic names, hydrophobia. I find it tragically fascinating how a virus can trigger such complex behavior in its host. If you think you can handle it, this heartbreaking video of a man suspected to have rabies in a hospital in Vietnam shows what that might look like.

This other video shows a man in Russia confirmed to have had rabies describing his condition to the doctors throughout the development of the clinical disease from hospitalization until his death.

Apart from that morbid curiosity, i must admit i’m not terribly interested in all the details though — as far as the practicalities of cycle touring/long-term travel are concerned, there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot one needs to know about rabies:

  1. It’s a viral disease that can be transmitted to humans through bites, licks, or scratches by infected bats, dogs, wolves, foxes, raccoons, skunks, monkeys, cattle, and other animals carrying the virus.
  2. After the onset of clinical symptoms, rabies is universally fatal.*
  3. This tragic outcome can be prevented with a relatively simple and inexpensive** post-exposure protocol.
  4. Keeping up with the underlying post-exposure vaccination schedule can be a challenge while on the move, especially if you’re crossing international borders along the way.
  5. Pre-exposure vaccination (or a previously completed post-exposure prophylaxis) does not confer life-long immunity, but nevertheless dramatically simplifies the post-exposure protocol.

Besides the information i got from talking to doctors in Lithuania, Poland and Sweden, i’ve also consulted the World Health Organization, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and the Brazilian Health Ministry (in Portuguese) websites. There’s much agreement and some discrepancy across their recommendations. For the purposes of writing this article, i decided to follow the WHO guidelines, which i briefly summarize below, and can be read in more detail here, here and here. You should, of course, consult with your own available health specialists and authorities before making a decision.

Post-exposure prophylaxis

The WHO recommends immediate washing and flushing of the wound for 15 minutes with soap, water, and other virucidal substances such as alcohol or iodine. If there’s bleeding, or in the case of bites in the head, neck, hand or genitals, which have a high density of nerve terminations, the administration of rabies immunoglobin at the wound site is also recommended (the rabies virus travels to the brain along the hosts’ nerves). This should be done before suturing the wound.

One intramuscular dose of the vaccine should be administered on days 0, 3, 7, 14 and 28 after the suspected exposure to the virus. Alternative vaccination schedules and delivery methods are possible, but they all require three to five visits to the doctor and take three to four weeks to complete.

Pre-exposure prophylaxis

Consists of one intramuscular dose of the vaccine on days 0, 7, 21 and 28, and is recommended to people in risk of exposure to the rabies virus, including travelers to areas where the disease is endemic. Different delivery methods and schedules are also possible.

Post-exposure prophylaxis for previously vaccinated individuals

Rabies vaccines do not confer long-term immunity to the disease, and previously vaccinated individuals are recommended a schedule of booster shots after suspected exposure: one intramuscular dose of the vaccine should be administered on days 0 and 3 after exposure. An alternate, single visit, 4-site intradermal vaccination is also possible.

The wound gets the same washing and disinfecting treatment. But for those who have previously completed a pre-exposure or post-exposure vaccination schedule, the administration of rabies immunoglobin is not needed.

Caveats for long-term travelers crossing international borders

According to the doctor who saw me at the Pomeranian Center for Infectious Diseases and Tuberculosis in Gdańsk, Poland, where i took my second shot, most doctors will treat you as if you have not been vaccinated before unless you can produce documentation specifying the drug, dosage, delivery method and schedule.

Back to my personal experience

Before you read on, i want to first admit to my embarrassent for having taken so much of the time of so many people at so many hospitals — but i would have been even more embarrassed, if not plain guilty, had this happened somewhere in the world with already precarious health care available to their own population. So, not to be unnecessarily inflammatory here, but the question of whether or not to take pre-exposure rabies shots before long-term travel might well be an ethical one.

The first doctor i spoke with, in the Emergency Room at the Marijampolė Hospital, didn’t really know what to tell me — he implied that my chances of catching rabies from that dog bite were minimal and that taking the shots or not was eventually my decision — his professional mandate was still to recommend the 0–3–7–14–28 WHO schedule.

“I see — and can i take the first shot with you here, and then continue my treatment in Poland?”

I could not — i mean, i didn’t want to consider the possibility of staying in Lithuania for four weeks until completing my series of rabies shots. At that point, i had not yet learned that, because i’d been previously vaccinated, i could potentially get away with a single booster shot — if the doctor knew that, he didn’t tell me. I don’t think he ever looked at my wound either, though i had told him it had been a superficial one on my left calf. He never mentioned the rabies immunoglobin.

With another nine days to decide whether or not to start taking the shots, i decided to sleep on it one more night.

Next day, my last day in Lithuania, i figured that consulting with another specialist on my way to Kaliningrad wouldn’t hurt. I first went to a pharmacist in Vilkaviskis, who then referred me to the town hospital. I explained the situation to them, and it seemed like they were actually interested in whether this transnational rabies vaccination program could be successfully carried out!

They finally looked at the wound, gave me the first rabies shot, as much paperwork as it made sense, including marking my international immunization card, and wished me good luck.

After crossing Kaliningrad, i reentered Schengen two days later in Poland, in time for my second shot the day after. Getting it took me almost two whole days though and proved to be quite a hassle.

First of all, not every hospital in Poland has rabies shots, and it seems like most of them don’t even know where you can really get it, or seem willing to make one or two phone calls to help you find out — each hospital i visited on my way through Elblag, Gdańsk and Gdynia would refer me to the next one — not even the University Center for Maritime and Tropical Medicine in Gdynia had the shots — and rabies is considered a Neglected Tropical Disease!! It was not until the eighth hospital visit back in Gdánsk that i was finally able to get my second shot.

Would that be easier in Sweden?

It wouldn’t have been — dog-transmitted rabies is nonexistent in Sweden, therefore not many hospitals in the country carry the vaccine either. That’s what i found out after my visit to the first one of them in Lenhovda — Sandra and Julia were very generous with their time to help me find a hospital further down my route where i’d be able to take that third shot, though i’d definitely not be able to do it on day 7, which was slowly coming to an end. Julia consulted with a specialist on the phone, who said i could wait up to another four days until Monday, which would have in fact been the date of the third shot according to the Swedish schedule.

On the one hand, that was good to hear. On the other hand, this discrepancy led me to take a closer look into the WHO’s recommendations. That’s when i found out that previously vaccinated people, no matter how long ago, need only take the two booster shots on days 0 and 3.

Well, that was my case — even though i could not quite document it, i’d been attacked by a dog when i was a teenager back in Brazil, and completed a full post-exposure vaccination program on the occasion. I decided that, if i couldn’t trust that, i might as well not trust the transnational vaccination program i was now undertaking either.

Before stopping the vaccines, i still wanted to hear the opinion of a doctor though, and even that was very difficult to get in Sweden. At the Medical Center in Eksjö, they were not very friendly, telling me that “it was my decision to come to Sweden with that problem, and that they could not help me there” — “are you telling me that it’s not possible to sign me in and put me in line to talk to a doctor?” — “we cannot help you here, you need to go to Jönköping, they have the vaccine there” — “that’s the point, i might not need the vaccine, that’s what i’d like to ask a doctor about” — “we cannot help you here, it was your decision to come to Sweden with this problem, you have to go to Jönköping.”

I didn’t want to go through the same hospital-hopping i’d experienced in Poland, so i asked them for that hospital’s number. They didn’t pick it up.

Although i’d already tried that before, i figured i’d call 1177 again, the number in Sweden for medical non-emergencies, and express a bit more frustration.

I’m really glad Renée was the one who picked it up — she kindly and patiently helped me settle the matter. I gave her all the information i had, and she connected me with a specialist who finally confirmed that i didn’t need to continue with the shots after the first two i’d already taken on days 0 and 3.

That was a huge relief.

Verdict

What are the disadvantages of taking the pre-exposure shots? They cost a lot of time, and sometimes a fair amount of money — i’ve seen figures ranging from FREE to $1000, depending on where you are taking the shots.

On the other hand, not taking the shots can make adequate post-exposure prophylaxis challenging to carry out on the road, especially if the immunoglobin injection is needed — not to mention the potentially harmful waste of time and resources from the health care professionals and institutions you might need attention from.

In hindsight, i am immensely grateful for that dog bite when i was a teenager, and how it has inadvertently made my present life a lot simpler — i was not looking forward to finding out what getting the fourth rabies shot in Sweden and the fifth one in Norway might have looked like or eventually cost me.

Furthermore, i’m at the mere beginning of my world exploration, which will inevitably take me to areas of greater risk of exposure to rabies — the fact that i’ve been vaccinated before gives me the same peace of mind about dealing with a potential animal attack as my TBE shots have given me about dealing with ticks.

You may read accounts and thoughts from other long-term/cycle touring travelers and health care specialists here or here, for example.

What would you do?

If you’ve considered this, i’d be very glad to hear your thoughts and experience as well. Please feel especially invited to share your own dog/wild animal/human bite story in the comments below, and how you’ve dealt with it, if you have one.


Acknowledgements

Special thanks to Antanas, the pharmacist i talked to in Vilkaviskis, Lithuania who connected me with their town hospital, Vitalija and Vilija, who helped me with the paperwork at the hospital, the doctor who saw me, the nurse who administered the first shot, and all other anonymous staff involved in the affair.

Many thanks to Tomasz, who appeared out of thin air to offer me help as a translator in the Elblag Hospital, Poland and to Simon, the guy who offered to guide me on his bike to four different hospitals in Gdynia, doubling as a translator at each of our stops — i cannot possibly imagine what it would have been like to deal with this without their help.

I also appreciate the kindness of the doctor and staff at the Pomeranian Center for Infectious Diseases and Tuberculosis in Gdańsk, Poland, where i finally got my second shot.

I will thank Sandra and Julia from the Medical Center in Lenhovda, Sweden once again for their time and interest, and the amazing Renée from the 1177 service, who helped me finally bring this story to a happy end.

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* A few non-vaccinated patients have been known to survive rabies through the Milwaukee protocol. But this insanely expensive treatment has only worked in about 10% of the cases where it was applied and is certainly not something to rely on — especially for a disease where adequate post-exposure prophylaxis almost never fails.
** By “inexpensive” i mean, “inexpensive for a typical person with enough resources to be traveling abroad” — the $50 or so that adequate post-exposure prophylaxis costs can still be an enormous financial burden to those most in need in poor communities around the world where the disease is still endemic.


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The (rather uneventful) first 100 hours of complete solitude

Spending the next 100 hours in complete solitude was not quite the idea when i hugged my friends Fuji and Grete goodbye. From where they dropped me off, i still had another couple of kilometers of walking along a dirt road to Fuji’s family’s Summer cottage on the Swedish countryside. The idea came up as i walked past the last house before the cottage, and gradually settled along the rest of the way — what if i went not only offline, but completely without interacting with other human beings for a while!?

The premise

The longest i’d been in complete solitude like that before, as far as i can remember, was about 24 hours. It happened last Summer, in the Faroe Islands, where the only mammals i interacted with in between the gentleman who gave me a ride to the trailhead and the girl starting that same trail as i walked out of it the day after were sheep — tones of sheep — and their poop — absurd amounts of it.

I’d been longing for an extended period of solitude ever since. It doesn’t seem very easy to find space and time to be alone in this world. There are people pretty much everywhere you go — even in the Faroe Islands! Plus, i keep finding out that we actually need them more often than i’d like to admit — and they probably need us also.

But i could not let this opportunity pass — i had access to clean water and enough provisions for more than a week, my closest neighbor was almost one kilometer down the road, and i couldn’t anticipate anything that might happen in the world that might require my attention in the immediate future.

And so the experiment began . . .

So, how was it?

Before i share with you some of my raw impressions from this experience, a quick disclaimer though. You might find most of what you’ll read below rather unimpressive — at least i did to a large extent.

Perhaps 100 hours is not that long — perhaps being alone in a Summer cottage i was already familiar with and with lots of entertainment is very different from being alone in a remote trail in the Faroe Islands — i did not have any remarkable insights. I didn’t meet any inner demons i wasn’t already expecting, and i didn’t face any problems that didn’t turn out to either have a trivial solution, or be something that didn’t really bother me after all.

You’ve been warned 🙂

I’m also interested in hearing about what may have been your own experience doing something like that, or what might be your expectations about it — please feel invited to answer to some of the questions below in the comments, or by email.

  • It was surprisingly easy to spend all that time alone. In fact, i feel like the real effort was to snap out of it — do i really have to!?

    For instance, on my second day, i was looking for a tree to climb in the area, and caught myself turning back as soon as i could see the neighbor’s house, so as not to risk interacting with them. If i didn’t have to touch base with my friend and his mom about arrangements for the following week, i’d likely have continued until i ran out of supplies or someone came to me.

    Have you done something like this before? How was it? If not, do you think it would be challenging?

  • I listened to obscene amounts of music — album after album — from cover to cover — doing nothing else but intently listening to it.

    Oh, gosh, i was so glad there was a good stereo set in the house! I dearly miss my headset.

    In case you’re curious about what i brought to my retreat: Dream Theater: Images & Words, Falling into Infinity and Octavarium; Haken: The Mountain and Affinity; Metallica: Black Album; Mumford & Sons: Babel; Periphery: Periphery III: Select Difficulty; Porcupine Tree: Deadwing and In Absentia; Skyharbor: Guiding Lights; and TesseracT: Altered State, Polaris and Smile.

    What album(s) would you bring to a solo retreat?

  • I noticed a lot of things i’d have likely not noticed otherwise — the birds, the butterflies, the scratches and patterns in the ceiling, the bees and wasps, some of the sounds from the nature preserve surrounding the cottage, the fire, and so on. I found the simplest events incredibly interesting at a much larger rate than usual.

    Look away from the screen. What’s the first thing around you that catches your attention? Had you noticed that before?

  • I spent a disproportionate amount of that time alone just on my underwear, and that felt so great!

    Do you also like to walk around naked, or semi-naked?

  • It was refreshing to be remembered that one can do reasonably well without continuous access to the Internet. I’d already made this decision before, and will likely stick to it — whenever and wherever i settle down, i won’t have Internet at home!

    I’ve met a few people without Internet at home during my travels over the years. They’ve all seemed perfectly functional, and their not having Internet may have well enriched our encounter.

    During this project, Boris (a roadside invitation in the Chernivtsi Region) and Nastia (my host in L’viv) didn’t have Internet at home. Whether or not that’s a coincidence, they have also been the only hosts so far with whom i’ve had a call with afterward. (UPDATED August ’19: Nastia and i moved in together a few months later and eventually got married — we didn’t have Internet at home for a year; i remain in touch with Boris, and visited him on my 2019 tour of Ukraine and surroundings with Nastia.)

    Have you tried going without Internet at home? How was it? What do you think about this idea?
  • I’ll probably want to do a retreat like that once a year or so. Perhaps a longer one though, and perhaps a bit more remote and/or constrained.

    Have you heard about darkroom retreats? Have you done one? How was it?
  • I’ll probably want to do a mini-retreat like that very often. Perhaps choosing a night every week or so in which i’ll go completely offline and out of reach.

    What kind of time and space do you regularly create for yourself? What do you gain from it?

  • Just like the week i spent offline in Moldova (but not in isolation), these few days in solitude were some of my most productive during this project so far.

    I wrote a lot, including at least two blog posts essentially from scratch! I took lots of pictures, and probably prepared more posts for my Instagram than i do on average. I sat down to read a book for the first time in a couple of months, and realized how much i actually miss it and want to prioritize that also when i’m on the move. I made tones of sketches, also a lot more than i do on average. I caught up with my bicycle’s state of disrepair. I caught up with drafting my pending Couchsurfing/Warmshowers references. I kept up with all essential household tasks such as doing the dishes and cutting the grass.

    What would you work on if you could create such time and space for that?

  • I really enjoyed the countryside tempo — having to fetch water from the well, having to walk all the way to the outhouse for number 2, having to heat up the water for my shower, and also to do the dishes or wash my clothes, having to make a fire to keep the house warm — everything takes time — every task needs to be started before it’s an emergency — but nothing is really an emergency.

    Do you live or have you lived in the countryside? Am i romanticizing it a bit too much? What kind of amenities of “civilization” do you miss the most?

And i think that’s really about it

Like i said, there wasn’t anything terribly deep, particularly intense or remarkably insightful. Oh, well — it is what it is.

I’ll let you know if i do a longer solo retreat though, or at least in a different context — and if anything else comes up — You please do the same 😉

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Featured photo: my friend Fuji’s family’s Summer cottage, where they and their friends come throughout the season to enjoy the light, the slow and the quiet — and which i was kindly allowed to use for my retreat and other experiments (Sweden, Summer ’17)


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Experiments: retreats