English

Some things matters to explain what i’m going to do in this trip:

-I’m young psychologist of 29, well graduated and with a pair of masters, but ain’enought… i’m havily attracted to the travel and the different ways in which people belonging different culture and habits live their life.

-Sometimes i’ve found a lack of sense living in city, in my country, and listening many stories of people striving to find their place in the world and their happiness…but always i’ve been interest on it… “how many roads must a man walk down before you can  call him a man”… sang Bob Dylan. A prat that there are many interesting researchs around the concept of happyness in the world.

-Milions of people and milions different ways to seek the happyness, bilions of story but no one better then another,  

-Sounds stupid collect stories of a city, culture and people when we know, very well, that the favourite place of happyness is inside us…but, you know, sometimes listen the story of someone else help something to awake inside us.. inspiration maybe, feelings, ideas, doubts or just interest. The trip would worths more for me in this way ..no only riding a motorbike but  even known the beautiful human and cultural enviroment around me…

-So, no judgement, no pursuing some “right or wrong form or model”, just listening, gathering thougts, stories and testimony along the road.

-Which road? i started in New York and i cross all the Canada for 7000 km, now after 10.000 i’m in San Francisco and i’ll heading the center and south America.. than i’ll ship my bike in africa or australia, it will depend on which coast i’ll be there, how much money left (unfortunately i started only with 8.800$) and wheather i’ll found a good cooperations with magazine to write articles..in order to spread what happened in this trip and raise up some money to go on all over the world. 

-So welcome to a weird trip merged with cross-cultural research, motorcycling, fun and adventure! I can’t be only a bike-rider but neither at all only a doctor (i’ll be bored by myself!!)

I’ m seated on a bench closer to the trail in which i live for this last week, i’d like to express something regarding my trip in a language that is not mine. So i apologize for the mistakes i’m going to write, but ain’t my mother language and than is what i want to comunicate that matters. I decided to do this trip 8 months ago by now, i was with my soutamerican girlfrind in Marocco, i was aware that my past travel experiences gave to me mainly the willing to go and travel again; more than the things i had seen along the trips were the curious to discover, by the mean of travel, how my life could get better walking again all over the countries, freely and pleasantly attracted from the novelty of people and culture. My lifestyle in italy didn’t make completly satisfied, and so, under the thirthy i thought it would comes the time to leave my country and start, this time longer, a big travel before having to settle down definitley in my birthplace and with the same pleasant and unpleasant things around me over there. I was reading about a italian who had travel around the world with his small scooter and i was fascinated by the huge amount of experiences he has gathered, i wondered if this kind of adventures need any particular skill that maybe i’ve never had.. but they didn’t appeard so out of range as the people commonly think about. Maybe the hardness thing is open the door of our own house and get out to start walking.. maybe.. but that were just theories. I began figuring this trip but soon i got bore to simulate and so i finally decided to do it. It was a shock for some people closer to me.. but now, some of them, are accustom to the idea and nevertheless my parents! It wasn’t easily coexist with this strange idea the next months, at the beginning the only support i had comes from my girlfriend who experienced before me the detachment from her reality, Perù, to get italy and start everythings again from the roots.  I’ve choosen to ride a bike in this experience to reach whatever place i would reach, out of the touristic routes, and go alone because… of many things, one of these reasons is that this is my own duty, challenge maybe and i need to do by myself. To be prepared about what concerned mechanical troubles i got to a garage begging for experiences on how to fix, repair and maintain my lovebly Motoguzzi (i’m the fourth owner..in consequence i got a bit worried!!). I’ve worked there some days per week, since the departure date.. now i know better how this “threehoundred kilograms cow” works!! Ain’t easy if you got a humanistic degree! Anyway i would know about my motorcycle but even about the people, enviroments and culture i visit.. i’ve been in center and south america sometimes, and i handle better my spanish than my english… but just give me time and i promise i’ll train up my english. Speaking a new lenguage makes me a bit introverted sometimes but in good companionship i can also going to speak untill boring!! That’s all for now, let me rest after this effort!! :-) ..by the way, i’m in canada now, i’ll move soon into the West…and than go sraight down until the end of the world! Goodby.     ENJOY THE LAST MOVIES

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Translated by Google:

I was stuck in the tent 16 hours in total, although the flashes are terminated after two or three strong first rain and then insisted mild afternoon until the following day. Leaving the cemetery where vehicles had found refuge have been stopped immediately by a scream was the owner who heard the motion was put to block the road. Fortunately, after having explained the conditions tragicomic that led me to pause in its ground the situation has spread, was inclusive and was also offered, if I had not found gasoline, to give a gallon. I did myself, discovering a 10 km a petrol station.  Do quiet along the interstate 16, I manage to gain miles west but also north, since I came to Canada I changed time zones and different ways of dressing, before I was with the shirt and jacket now sweater with leather jacket , Batteries windshields Necklace, nuts and Rain trousers, and yet not enough to get away from the cold.  Approaching the North Pole the difference in climate feels, but I can bear, at least for now, when get to Rocky Mountain, in Jasper Park have to invent something not to suffer the cold. My clothing does not allow me a great deal of autonomy in the event of rain, resists rain flying under no more than 100 km, then the wet and cold start to infiltrate even the back, legs and hands are the first to succumb, the will to is to continue immediately thereafter. Tours placing the legs and left hand to the cylinder heads that give me warmth, but is very lean consolation.  Along many lakes in Canada are more than 30,000 and in some strange marine animals live, there are legends and scientific disputes about sightings such as the ‘Ogopogo “serpentiorme and 13 meters long appeared a year ago in the eyes of two Canadian Okanangan in the lake, or the “pónik of Boucanee River, or Manipogo of Lake Manitoba.  Finally after a long road, I gain a fairly smooth sky and gaze rests on what surrounds me: plains, cultivated fields and full of bales of hay rolled. The possibility of camppeggiare “freely” decreased a lot, in Ontario, taking the first perpendicular to the trans-canada with good chances and some bad dirt was a niche isolated to plant the tent. The camp is free but allowed in the province of Saskatchewan and Manitoba find a place for the isolated tent and the bike is arduous undertaking, particularly because almost all agricultural land that flank the state property are fenced.  Arriving in the region of nearly Alberta, the penultimate across Canada in the west before the British Columbia, the sun sets and take a side street, I will stop at a farm asking if there is a place to plant the tent. Despite the face and eyes sweet stories my company transamericana the owner coldly me the directions to a remote campsite about thirty km, then draws the three dogs in the meantime I searched were with their tartufi. Thank you and I’m going, I gave his land for only one night but at least I gave some indication. I reach the camp which is almost night and square the tent illuminated by the headlight of the bike.  E ‘on September 3,  I leave behind the Silver Lake camp after spending a night decidedly cold, in the midst of my dormiveglia I had to refer the motorcycle jacket, the cold was biting and despite girassi me as a skewer arrotolandomi sleeping bag in the situation not changed . I managed to rest but the bags under his eyes that I find the revival seem to say otherwise. My ride lasts more than 400 km, finally, the park is near Jasper, near Edmonton, I stopped in a WallMart buying a blanket and a pair of gloves from rubber work that I have readjusted with the band, are not very comfortable but protect the water better than those who use bucati for years now. I have fared with the 20 U.S. dollars and compassion of a contract. Stradafacendo I managed to take even water, blame the usual cloud-spaceship that too often I happen to encounter. I will stop at a Mcdonald and drink a coffee in boiling heat, take a local newspaper secretly strappo and weather forecasts. The keep as a lucky amulet, jealous of the information they contain that once lay in my favor. It seems that in the coming days there will be no risk of rain along my route. The evening I stopped in a pine forest at the side of the road, is a kind of camp without operators, turn a small fire and I warms the two tins of chicken bought the day before, a pleasant dinner but essential. It uses the heat of the fire to dry the Toporso, my snowman mascot-received as a gift from my birth relatives who even remember. The flames are strong and buttons that is at eye melt, the raise now and I cursed. I remain chino watching the flames and systems to better pieces of wood because it can burn for as long as possible. My tent is two meters, is the minimum safe distance to avoid any incidents with glowing embers but at the same time insufficient to receive the warmth of the fireplace. The temperature drops below zero and I have understood the antiphon, mechanically repeat procedures habit as a diver that ensures its Bell. Also today came the rest of the warrior. Tomorrow I will have to recover as much information as possible about the climate of rocky mountains, there is a risk that should refrain from cross for long from north to south, under penalty of frostbite. We will see    E ‘on September 4, childbirth at a time of Jasper Park, a park more beautiful and unspoilt North America, the home of “Moose”, the Canadian elk, and his wild friends. I happen to meet a couple who fortunately does not intend to launch against the motion but remain at the edges of roads, can make him two photographs. Then I reach Jasper after paying my entrance fee to the park natural gas because I do the next filling station is 140 km away, checking how many liters enter into the reservoir begins to realize that the bike is consuming more from after ‘Acuqazzone taken for 16 consecutive hours a few days earlier. “Well, I left you out as an asshole for 16 hours without cover and you’ve tried revenge increasing consumption and terrorize with the oil lamp for 20 km before they choose to deactivate alone …, but on me now piantala ! I have covered with your fucking plastic bag two and a half meters all other nights .. and not say no! “- Silence –  A gentleman with his motorcycle by enduro approach me, you chat and watch my motoguzzi .. “Mm .. you do not have problems ever since? “no” has never broken anything? “” no “… but a betrayal came the memories of those facts km to push my old bike, maybe more of those facts in the saddle, then those of the forwarding agent told me that as the only Guzzi shipped in the year before America was dropped from containers and trucks rose directly on the workshop why not started .. Mando away the bad thoughts that the Guzzista equivalent to a momentary loss of faith “, I conclude my talk by asking advice on roads and paths. I take the only movement along scenic road is definitely an honor for the eyes and a torment for the body of kilometers in kilometers under the cool wind that comes from the glaciers above, I will stop, I make two pictures and then genuflesso as a knight support your hands on the cylinder left trying to usurp all the heat it produces. I take between lakes, mountains and beautiful pine forests, arriving at Lake Louise, Banf between Park and Jasper Park, I find a campsite, I write two lines to your computer and start to mount my arsenal. There’s haze in the air and each in their pitch remains seated on his wooden bench without socializing, who reads with his cap fell down to the eyebrows and who is supported to the seat of the car with her eyes floating between the tops of pines. A touching me prepare a sandwich with salami. And eat as usual and put food leftovers in a bag to several meters from the tent, a countermeasure for the bears, unfortunately contrary to common sense and I like biscuits in the tent, they defend a cost of living and I want to wake up the next day and eat immediately. Laugh reading the guide of the park that there are spray “anti bear”, I was left to spray mosquitoes that stop or limit rapists but it seems there are also beasts of 300 kg. Some ask me how I rule with the problem of wild animals, grizzly in this case or “black bears.” In fact I have read everything about this, who recommended that whistle, which of crouch, to climb those who pretend to death. The only sure thing is that I’m underestimating the problem, or rather, I have always taken food away from my position but I have always thought that the clumsiness and the length of a bear it would definitely slow and awkward when trying to chase and escape . E ‘that mistake here. Ken, where I’m stopping by a couple of nights, I mend now if you run away you’re fucked man! “And discover that a bear can reach 30 – 40 km per hour. Basically, I said Ken, there is no escape, if you’re very quiet probably is not interested in you and quickly seek food, but if they attacked the only way you crouch and protect the neck trying to keep property. “But if you spaventi a small grizzly and his mother is probably very close to six equally fucking” says Ken, “.. but if it is a jaguar or a black bear then you can also rannicchiato be palatable to the ground and then do well to show aggressive, but not until you make badly you’re always calm and quiet “So I think I would be dead even before they understand that species are attacked, but fortunately the case is really rare even though every year there are always the victims of aggression. Well, the record made black again to tell the elapsed, and I lift the morning after passed to combat the cold with my new deck batteries instead of bears and find a crow that 40 cm long walks between plots seeking food . I read the messages on the phone, my mechanic friend wrote to me “how’s it going with the Guzzi?” And I say “well”. I turn the bike to warm the engine, and beginning to feel a smell all too familiar: gasoline. I discover a leaky pipe and under a slight pioggerellina beginning to dismantle the tank with a look and un’allegria from funeral. I cursed the pipe, and Accounts and I remember very well precisely to take a light meter, never did. The wrapping with duct tape and the comeback of all, look at the bike disappointed and not say a word, not even you. Turn on the engine and the tube does not lose more, not let transpire contentment, it is too soon, just leave me in march. Banf return along the park. Three hours after meeting Ken.    There are three things that you do not have to do to make other people Ken:  1) Do not miss him cigarettes: Ken smokes only when foreigners come in smoking and has not done so to take away this opportunity  2) Do not speak well of Indians: Ken rents space for his home in an Indian reserve in which the Indians get home, money, assistance and any coverage without paying anything, not even taxes. This is a form of “excuse” for the wrongs suffered, but Ken was tired of seeing them drunk and nullafacenti.  3) I am not mistaken when I called: his name is not Ken and Kent    Only three warnings and then the way of friendship is esplanade and forward. So we are sitting on a porch chatting with Maureen, both are about sixty, and affabili Simpaticissimo. He is of Ukrainian descent and her Scottish. The speeches we carry everywhere, talking up the sense of my trip agree that it is a fortune and it is normal that attracts the envy of many. I replied telling my concerns relating to empty my mind before my future, a void that can fill with the freedom to decide and do what I want but also a gap that puts anxiety in certain moments, notably when I think of those in My country has “attraccato safe” and root tranquillized usual and that at this moment I feel not possess. I own a motorcycle and a laptop now, before even the certainty of how and where to set my profession and my life .. Now I have lost.  “Look at my friend” tells me about his rocking chair in wooden veranda that overlooks the Indian reserve “I worked hard in my life, I decided to make money and stop at 55 years, retire and enjoy the fruits of my work, then 54 years something happened … ” “What?” I replied.  “I diagnosed a blood cancer that now, through a protein, also affects the nerve endings to prevent certain movements” and shows me his hand trembling while trying to move a pen between your fingers.  “There is no hope, they gave me a few years of life”  “I am a man walking death my friend”  Concealing the face as I pass inside is strong.  “It is not strange? I have all these things and I can not exploit them, the trailer that I left you to sleep more, I can not drive them and remains immobile, now there’s a slight remission of symptoms but fortunately the disease remains … “  ‘It is rare to meet people rich in time and money rich “I aggregates I when a thought born in this country a month earlier.    “Your story a story my friend: that there is a becchino preparing a corpse before burial to check their pockets and there are ten U.S. dollars inside, and you know what to say?”  “No.”  “It says: This man has worked half an hour longer than necessary”  “What do you mean?” I reply.  “It means the man who has spent what he earned in his life except those last 10 U.S. dollars advanced mezz’oretta that work in most, it was good to make so little, what you need to die rich?”    After pacche piggyback el’augurio a good rest and we salute all three, I set out the true caravan and I go to bed clear, once again amazed and pleased the wonderful fact meeting with these people.  I think back to when we met two days earlier:  “Hello, knows the case for a place nearby where I can plant the tent?” I say this sentence to a man who works his garden after 30 minutes earthworks looking for a free fantomatico camp indicated by a sign near the border with the United States south of Calgary. The Lord looks at me, “How do you direct?” “.. But mainly in South America but for now I’m returning to the United States after crossing the Canada ..”. “You said South America? .. you can come planted in my garden, I worked everywhere in south america. ” So I know Ken and his wife Maureen, I stop by their home a few days but not in the garden but in their beautiful and comfortable “motor”, a caravan of 7 meters equipped with everything they leave parked next to their house in the Indian reserve of Tobacco Plains The place is charming and conversations take the most disparate directions, from my journey with them, their life to mine, from Canada to the United States via Europe and East, and much farther ..  I am excited at the very idea of having a roof over his head and a small electric heater that allows me to sleep in underpants, which was not more than a month because of anything but mild climate. The first evening, I remain seated on the steps of the trailer for the hours spent traveling but surprised by this latest meeting. It ‘the second time that I try to leave the Canadian border and is the second time that a force made up of intangible circumstances, events and meetings keeps me again within its borders to find and retain even more. The nature of this trip is entrusted to the accident, and suddenly the weather but beginning to hear in the background grow a plot more complex and meaningful talks with the experiences and stories that I focus better than did the maps or brochures . I take my time and then return to the motorhome for the first night vivermi above zero, rolled in a blanket that does not have to share with bacteria and mites and a stufetta you care to keep warm until morning. This is the last of my story Environment Canada, which began in a motel and continued along the road and in tents. As both delicious and the place where they are Ken and Maureen have to raise short-anchors and resume the road maybe even postponing the entry to the United States shifting to Vancouver for another few hundred kilometers.  Sooner or later I will have to turn south and begin the slow free-fall towards the Central and South America by changing climates, seasons, environments, languages and cultures.