XXV - The End of the Road

From the desert stars, to the city’s black sky.

In the sky of the big metropolis, of which Lisbon constitutes no exception, there is little room for the stars to shine. The night sky is home to artificial lights coming from clusters of buildings and houses as well as the pollution exhaled by factories and cars. There is definitely no room for the distant light coming from space, for the charming shimmer of the stars or its timeless appeal.

‘Traveller’s log. Entry twenty: “What I’m supposed to do in Lisbon at dawn?”

 After almost two months of travels I’m back to Lisbon, back home… or at least back to the only place in the world I can call home. I haven’t told anyone I was coming back today and because of that I’m sitting here now, in this cold bench in this cold night, forced to wait for time to pass…’

Time goes by slowly, every minute multiplied by ten. At the end of August, the climate is still mild, and as such the cold is not a real problem. Even so, the silence of the urban night, tempered by the station’s dim artificial light manufacture a lonely, almost creepy environment that leaves Leonardo ill at ease. Not unlike Marseille, some weeks ago, the wait at the Gare seems long and unpleasant, even more so this time, without any suitable company to be found in the premises.

‘… Now that I’m finally back, it is as if I had finally returned to reality. As if my travels had been but intense dreams, yet dreams nevertheless. It is as if, as a traveller, I were in fact a dreamer, continuously imagining existences different from my own. It is as if I had finally awoken, after a long night populated by extraordinary dreams and I finally realized, astonished, that what I took for real was in fact no more than delirium and illusion…’

This time around, however, the shelter available is even more precarious. While in Marseille, the Gare was an enclosed building, offering protection, psychological at the very least, against the threats of the night, in Lisbon that protection is lacking. The station in Lisbon is an open construction that merges with the blackness of the night, therefore offering very little in terms of shelter, physical or mental, to its travellers.

The vastness of the night engulfed therefore Leonardo, a tiny figure, seating in a stone bench, alternating brushes of his pen and furtive looks into the darkness surrounding him, constantly searching for hints of danger coming from the night and the urban predators it hides.

His only true refuge being his black moleskin, and the memories and thoughts that he now confided to it.

‘… What awaits me here, in this city that I call home? My destiny perhaps… But what that might be, if such a thing even exists? So long travels and dreams of the past, ancient and recent, an end has come to the incessant search of something transcendental. I came back to be an adult, one more soul among many, rowing along and in the benefit of modern society…’

           

            Time passes as the night becomes, slowly but steadily, less dark. Yet, this natural procession is slow and woeful. Dodgy characters come and go, sometimes appearing from the darkness and sometimes merging with it. Leonardo fears slightly for his safety whilst some of those shadowy figures pass him by. They are the fauna of the night, dangerous, goalless, and greedy, without morals.  Some are drunks; a few are simply crazy, others are just ill natured. Yet tonight they leave him be, his eyes turned to his black moleskin, his soul still lost in an endless existential desert.

            ‘… In the Maghreb desert I saw the most beautiful stars I had ever seen before. They were floating in that beautiful sky dyed of black and silver, huge and majestic, eternally watching over the men looking at it from the dunes, humbling them surely… and nevertheless, I return yet empty from my travels. This void inside me will be never filled, and I know this without doubt now.’

            Minutes turn into hours and night gives place to morning. Meanwhile, the earliest of workers and travellers begin to arrive at the station, as Leonardo prepares to leave.

            The elderly taxi driver helps him place his backpack in the truck. ‘This backpack sure is heavy young man, are you carrying bricks in it or something?’ He asks in a playful tone, after he recovers his breath.

            ‘Oh, I could have done that, sorry. Yeah, I know, it’s quite heavy. Pretty much everything I own is in that backpack,. I was gone travelling for quite a while you see.’

            ‘Oh, in that case it’s understandable. I certainly wouldn’t be able to carry all of my belongings in just one backpack myself. Where to?’

            Leonardo gives him the address and he drives away towards the instructed destination.

            As Leonardo opens his notebook, with the intention of continuing to write down his thoughts, the driver who, in typical fashion is eager for a chat instantly interrupts him. 

            ‘May I ask where you have been travelling?’

            A correct answer would be something like ‘I’ve been travelling my whole life ever since I left my native Brazil’, but he choses instead to give the taxi driver a much less philosophical and much more straightforward answer, ‘Spain and Morocco mostly.’

            ‘Morocco huh? That must have been quite an adventure I’m sure. I never left the country in my whole life and now I’m too old for those things I’m afraid. But when I was young I dreamt of travelling around the world… go to a bunch of exotic places like that.’

            ‘It’s never too late you know.’

            ‘Oh but it is my boy. After a man gets married and has the first son he starts living exclusively for his family and for his job. So I think you are wise to travel now when you’re still young, because in a few years…’

            The trip doesn’t take more than ten or fifteen minutes, since it’s still too early for traffic. The city is still barely awake, and the streets of Lisbon are still mainly the dominium of taxis and buses making their first morning routes and only a few early-risers. One or two hours later however, the same trip would take a good half-an-hour, spoiled by tangible smoke expelled from tens of thousands of tailpipes and the irritating and utterly unnecessary honks of frenetic drivers in a hurry to get to their jobs in time.  At this time, nevertheless, the car ride is quick and pleasant, and the elderly taxi driver, grey mustache and white hair, drops Leonardo in front of his mum’s house.

            The clock indicates that is already six in the morning, so he presses the button on the intercom twice and, shortly after, he hears Manuel’s voice coming from the device. ‘Who is it?’

            ‘It’s me, Leonardo.’ He answers.

            ‘Leonardo? We didn’t know you were coming today!’ Said Manuel, surprise stamped on his voice.

            ‘Yeah, I know… I decided to surprise you.’

            ‘Oh that’s great. Your mum will be ecstatic. Come on up.’

            Half a minute later Leonardo rings the bell of the front door and Manuel opens it almost instantaneously. ‘You’re so skinny, ’ is the first thing he says. Manuel hugs him and tells him to come in, while helping him to put his big backpack on the lobby’s floor. ‘Your mother and your brothers are still sleeping, and I think that I’ll go back to sleep for another hour or so. You have clean sheets in your bed and food in the fridge so help yourself.’

            ‘Thanks.’

            ‘You’re gonna have to tell us where you were all this time, you drove your mother completely nuts you know?’

            ‘Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I needed some time to think without anyone bothering me.’

            ‘Okay… we’ll talk later today. You can sleep till whenever you want, you must be tired.’

            ‘A little bit…’

            ‘…  Being back home is certainly a weird feeling. To be lying down on my bed, only a few metres from my brothers and parents… I spent so much time by myself that it just feels strange to be here again. The last thing I want is to have to explain myself to someone or to discuss my plans for the future, but I know that it is inevitable now. I’m back to my world, and my time in Neverland is over at last. They expect me to become one of them, one more cog in the machine, and that is a fate that I must come to terms with. This is the end of the road that leads to life in society. This is the last stop of my voyage of transition. I’m an adult now.’

XXIII - The Boy in the Medina - Part 2

A dark-skinned boy with almond-shaped big brown eyes and no future: a friend against all odds.

‘Do you think that you coming back to Morocco in future?’ asked the boy.

‘I don’t know, Rashid. Maybe I will, maybe not. You see I don’t belong here… I’m a foreigner, a stranger. This is not my place… Yet, maybe one day, in Europe, I will remember this day and decide to come back here to see how you are doing. It would be nice to see what kind of man you become.’

They were both sitting on the rocky beach, Leonardo dressed in his jeans and t-shirt, Rashid wrapped in his jillaba, the ancient Medina buildings standing silently behind them. Leonardo looked out to the beautiful horizon with the blue sea diluting itself in the sky above. They listened to the whispering wind, whilst absorbing the strong Moroccan afternoon heat. Far away, disappearing into the horizon, a seemingly tiny ship sailed away from sight, most likely heading for European shores. He imagined that up close it would tower over them like a huge sea monster.  As the ship slowly vanished from sight, Rashid couldn’t help but think sadly about his life.  He knew that although Leonardo had good intentions, he would never come back to see him. And while he was becoming a doctor, lawyer, or engineer in Europe, Rashid would be continuing his boring, humiliating, and poorly paid work as a tour guide until he was old enough to join his father at the factory. He sighed and slowly stood.  Time to get back to work.

XV - Hitchhikers

Leonardo and his new companions decided to leave the port and go look for a hostel as soon as the morning silence was broken by the sudden arrival of a legion of workers and tourists. After searching the city for an hour or so, they came across a hostel that seemed to gather the two prerequisites the boys demanded from any prospective accommodation: an affordable price and clean sheets.

           

‘So, how many nights will you be staying?’ Asked the girl behind the counter, an attractive blonde in her mid-twenties.

‘Probably just one’, answered Lars.

‘Maybe two if we like it here… If we like it in Marseille I mean,’ added Klaus rather clumsily, maybe made a little bit more clumsy than usual by the presence of the cute girl.

‘Right… I’ll sign you up for just one night for the time being and tonight or tomorrow morning you can let us know if you want to stay an extra night, okay guys? Welcome to Marseille!’ She said, with enthusiasm, revealing a beautiful smile.

The boys ended up staying, not just one or two, but three days and nights at Marseille. By day they enjoyed the beautiful sandy beaches, bathed by the warm water of the Mediterranean and populated by girls with tanned skin, pretty faces and well-sculpted bodies. One day they spent the afternoon by the famous calanques, majestic promontories that blend with the sea in spectacular fashion. The evenings were spent between populated squares and trendy bars; Belgian beer and French red wine; amusing light-hearted talks and profound discussions.

‘Hey man, I’m glad we met you. You’re a cool guy,’ said a happy but still sincere Lars on their third night in Marseille.

            ‘Thanks man. I’m glad I met you guys too. I mean, travelling by myself was fine, but to be honest, I think I would have never had such a great time here if I hadn’t met you,’ answered an equally drunk Leonardo.

            ‘One of the best things about travelling is that you get to meet cool people’, agreed Sven.

            ‘I’ll cheer to that’, Leonardo said, raising his beer and encouraging his three new buddies to do the same.

            ‘To a new friend’, said Lars.

            ‘And to travelling’, added Leonardo.

            ‘And Adventure!’ Added Sven.

            ‘And let us not forget… to cute and slutty French girls!’ Shouted a cheerful Klaus as the glasses clashed in a loud noise.

In the morning of their fourth day in Marseille, Leonardo and his three newly found companions, Lars, Sven and Klaus, quickly stuffed all their stuff back on their backpacks, checked out from their hostel room and prepared to hit the road once more in search of adventure. Leonardo had decided to continue travelling with the German boys for the time being and had gladly agreed to further explore the south of France in their company. The only thing that worried him slightly was their standard way of transportation…

            ‘Are you guys sure that this is a good idea?’ Asked Leonardo, whilst sticking his thumbs up in the air and looking extremely embarrassed.

            ‘Yeah man, don’t worry, we’ll be just fine. We’ve been doing this since we left Berlin’, said Lars, who was standing right next to him, also with his thumb up. The only difference was that, instead of looking embarrassed and scared, Lars looked confident and excited, a sight that was somewhat reassuring to first-timer hitchhiker Leonardo. ‘At first we felt like you are feeling now, shy and a little bit scared, but after you do it two or three times you realize that there’s nothing to be scared of or shy about.’

            ‘What if no one picks us up?’ Asked Leonardo.

            ‘Every first timer thinks that at first, that maybe no one will stop. But trust me, someone always does. The only problem is if that person is a serial killer or something…’ Lars said.

When he saw the chock stamped on Leonardo’s face he couldn’t help bursting into laughter, and neither did Sven and Klaus, who were standing just a few meters away from them. ‘Don’t worry man, I’m just kidding. Really, the only problem is that now we’re four guys instead of three, so I’m thinking that not a lot of people will be willing to give us a ride.’ Leonardo looked mildly reassured.

            ‘I was just thinking about that too, maybe we should split up in two groups of two and meet each other at Arles.’ Said Sven.

            ‘I agree’, agreed Lars. ‘I’ll go with Leonardo and you guys can stay together.’

            ‘Good, I think that this should work better than if we stay here all together. Let’s split up then, we’ll stand on the other side of the street.’

            ‘I bet they will pick us up first because we’re prettier than you ugly fucks’, said Klaus, always up for a joke.

            ‘Yeah, that might be, but we’re a lot less gay and much cooler’, answered Lars straight away, always wiling to counter-attack.

            However, unfortunately for him, a car stopped right in front of Klaus and Sven only two minutes later. Klaus had a big smile on his face when it did, he waved at them and shouted ‘so long fuckers!’ as they entered the car and it drove off.

            ‘Maybe Klaus was right, maybe they’re prettier than we are’, joked Leonardo.

            It took fifteen minutes but eventually a car stopped in front of Lars and Leonardo. The driver was a man in his thirties, on his way to spending the weekend with his family in Arles, precisely the place they wanted to go to. He didn’t speak English very well so Leonardo had to make use of his rudimentary French in order to strike a conversation with him. Due to the obvious linguistic barrier no substantial dialogue could be entertained, however the man was friendly and dropped them near Arles’ central square where they were supposed to meet the others.

            When they got there, Klaus and Sven we’re already waiting for them while sitting by the fountain at the middle of the square. Behind them, a huge obelisk rose from the middle of the fountain, beautiful and majestic. To their left they could see the elegant town hall where the French flag hang from a mast, flanked by the flag of the European Union to its right and the flag of the region, Provence-Alps-Côte d’Azur, to its left. A great deal of people, some visibly tourists, contemplated the square’s beauty, a sighting to be repeated throughout the whole south of France during the summer.

              ‘What are you guys eating, did you go to the supermarket or something?’ Asked Lars as they approached Sven and Klaus who had a few supermarket bags sitting by their feet and were seemingly already engaged in devouring part of the food on the spot. They were eating something chocolaty, as the spots of chocolate spread over a good part of their faces attested. ‘You look like pigs,’ added Lars after paying attention to their dirty faces.

            ‘It’s called Pan on Chocalete,’ said Klaus mouth still half-full. ‘These things are quite good! And yeah, we did go to the supermarket.’

            ‘… And while we were there we met a German traveller who told us about a camping site near here. It’s supposed to be quite cool and cheap and he even explained to us how to get there,’ added Sven, whilst cleaning the chocolate of his face.

            ‘Awsome. So I guess we have a place where we can stay tonight then,’ said Lars.

            ‘Yeah, that’s great news,’ agreed Leonardo.

            ‘No man, the great news is that we have…BEER!’ Shouted Klaus, taking a six pack out of one of the supermarket bags and exhibiting it proudly with a big smile on his face.

            Their time in Arles proved to be just as enjoyable as the days and nights spent at Marseille. Arles is an enchanting, quiet, small town, crossed by the Rhone. It is the site of important Roman ruins and home to a number of charming restaurants and captivating little bars. While Marseille had much to offer in the way of hot sandy beaches and cool bohemian life, Arles offered beauty, charm and tranquility above all. Van Gogh, one of the town’s most illustrious past residents, has beautifully portrayed many of its streets. Leonardo and the boys spent a few days at Arles, enjoying all of its qualities and life was indeed good.

            Yet, despite of all that, Leonardo knew that in a way, it was all an illusion. Travelling in the south of France and meeting cool people had helped him to push away unpleasant thoughts, like the sadness he had felt in Paris or the feeling of nostalgia that had been building up in him ever since he finished Uni. Not only that, it had sheltered him, albeit momentarily, from the devastating sensation of being lost in the world, without belonging anywhere and lacking all sense of purpose. Time would come when he would have to face real life along with those feelings, and that time would probably come sooner rather than later and he knew it.

           

After leaving Arles, the boys continued to hitchhike all the way till they finally got to Barcelona. On the way there, they stopped for a few days at Montpellier and Perpignan, where they stayed at camping sites as they had done in Arles. The boys carried with them a tent that, luckily for Leonardo, was big enough for up to five people.

            At Barcelona they also found a camping site to stay at, thanks to the assistance of a nice French guy who lived in Barcelona with his French wife and picked them up at a gas station about fifty miles outside the city. They got to the camp late but we’re able to find a place to stay. The camping site was located a few miles from the city centre and hosted many young men and women from all over Europe and the World, looking for cheap but nice accommodation while visiting one of Europe’s most exciting Metropolis.

            The boys stayed almost a week at Barcelona, but Leonardo did not. He left first thing in the morning. Sven and Klaus were still too drunk from the night before, so they didn’t even wake up when he left the tent. Lars did though.

            ‘Hey dude’, he said, ‘it was really nice meeting you, I hope you have fun wherever you go next. Do you know where you’re going already?’ Lars was a funny sighting to behold, white as a ghost, his light-blond hair so spiked up it made him look like one of those Super –Sayan warriors from Dragon Ball. He was wearing only his boxers and was scratching his round belly while he talked to Leonardo, who couldn’t help but grin at the sight of his half-naked friend.   

            ‘I think I’m heading south, maybe even to Morocco.’

            ‘Morocco? Shit that’s quite cool. What are you gonna do there?’

            ‘I’m not sure yet. I just want to escape from all of this for a while, leave civilization behind. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a great time travelling with you guys but there ‘s too much noise here you know? I wanna go somewhere with less noise, where I can hear myself, like that morning at the port in Marseille. Maybe I’ll go to the desert, I don’t know…’

            ‘I would like to go to the desert some day man. If you have the chance I think you should definitely do it.’

            ‘Yeah…Listen Lars, talking about that morning at the port in Marseille…’

            ‘Yeah?’

            ‘Do you remember how you asked me why I was travelling?

            ‘Yeah sure, what about it?’

            ‘I still can’t give you a one hundred per cent straight answer but…when I was still back in England, less than a month ago, I was a student. That’s what I was: I was a student. And the problem is, what am I now? I’m nothing…I think that it’s not just about running from something, or being scared. That’s a part of it too of course. But now I also understand that total freedom comes at the cost of a sense of purpose. I’m looking for a way to reconcile freedom with meaning and, although I’m not totally sure, I think that’s why I’m travelling above all. Because I’m looking for something but I don’t know what it is or where it is yet. But somehow I feel that it’s out there somewhere.’

            ‘Well man, whatever you do, wherever you go, I sincerely hope that you find that meaning you’re looking for. And when you do, do you mind sending me a copy by mail?’

            ‘Okay man,’ said Leonardo with a smile on his face.

            ‘Good bye traveller’

            ‘Good bye hitchhiker.’

            The two young men said their final goodbye with a hug and then Lars went back to his tent where he fell back to sleep within five minutes. As to Leonardo, he found himself alone once more, being blown by the wind towards novel and exotic locations.