Posts Tagged ‘hosting’


Chapter Five: Meeting Rainbows / 14.01.13

 

Thessaloniki. A college town on the coast of Greece, full of shopping, frappe, and social unrest. We arrived late at night with our loaded bikes after an 18 kilometer walk from the airport outside the city. Without a host, we found ourselves tired and in search of a cheap hostel to rest for the night. While waiting by a lamp post for devin to return after backtracking to find my lost bike lock cable, I made some new friends. First a boy about my age with a similarly loaded bike came over to me to introduce himself. His name was Gus, and he had been cycling by himself from his home in France for five months. Not a moment later another young man walked up and introduced himself, Martin was his name and he too was solo cycling across Europe. We all exchanged information, and within minutes were connected swapping stories of our travels, checking out each others gear, and wondering where the others were staying for the night.

After a difficult and seemingly endless day, this meeting of cycling tourists gave us a new energy and let us know we were not alone in our mission. Others just like us have the same ideas and curiosity- we were not crazy for stepping from our day to day lives to explore and let circumstances take us where they may. We really had no idea what circumstances had in mind for us later on in Greece, but it ended up being a colorful experience that would be hard to forget.

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Chapter Three: Miki’s House / 19.12.12

 

When riding the hills of the italian coast I reluctantly told Devin and the others that I couldnt pedal any further no matter how hard I grit my teeth or breathed through the pain. The fear of permanant injury loomed in the back of my mind and I didnt want to toy with the concequences of further strain or damage. Devin and I cycled to the nearest town and got on a train the next morning to Chiavari, Italy to meet our next host- Miki.

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Chapter Two: A Lesson in Limping & the Importance of Flexibility / 18.11.12

In the aftermath of the accident, I realized the pain that remained was in my upper leg, and my pride. In spite of the injury, Devin and I cycled 60 km the next morning to the town of Antiebs where a possible host and the promise of rest and recuperation lived. After a beautiful yet painful ride along the rocky coastal roads, we arrived in Antieb to find not our host Manford, but instead his temporary roommate named Juliana- and adorable student from Columbia. She was kind, laid back, a bit bubbly and the apartment was comfy and calm- just what I needed to shake the pounding headache and rest my leg in peace.

Shortly after settling in she told us she was having a couple friends over to make pizza, and invited us to join- a low key night with pizza, perfect! By midnight fourteen of her friends had arrived, each bringing a bottle of wine or liquor and an endless supply of beer. They were all  students around our age and came from all over the world to earn a European Maters in Renewable Energy.  Every person there was awesome, friendly, talkative, and knew English well enough to be our best friend by the end of the evening. Music blasted while custom pizzas flew in and out of the oven- some with eggs on top and even “Mr.Pizza” were created and devoured. Great conversation, music swapping and even dancing pushed until the early hours of morning, and then it all ended with a bang- literally.

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Home Stays / 14.09.12

As we were drying out our tents in Michael’s yard in Geneva, I began to think about the notion of
security. We were so grateful to be here, in a yard, where we could spread out our stuff to dry and have a hot shower and sleep under a roof… All these things are benefits and trappings of what we sometimes call the pursuit of security. And we were loving it. In fact, it kept us going to have these “security checkpoints” (so to speak). All of these security checkpoints for us were offers of hospitality and welcome from those who had gained some security in life.

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Sunday Water Break, Ichenheim, Germany / 05.09.12

 

It was Sunday.  In Germany, at least along the Rhein river’s collection of small villages, everything is shut down on Sundays. Our bicycle touring group was winding its way southward along the river pathway for bikes, and we were in need of a drinking water refill.

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