Travellers are today’s adventurers. As Sven had pointed out, the modernization of the western world has left little margin for true adventure in western lands. In a certain way, the spirit of the adventurer has been extinguished by modern’s society’s need to make the lives of everyone uniform.
Long
gone are the days of the Wild West and its fearsome Indian warriors and
adventurous cowboys. Long gone are the days of the Vikings: intrepid, fearless
kings of the northern seas. Long gone are the days of the European medieval
knights, who lived and died by the sword.
None
of that exists anymore. It’s buried in the past along with the ideals of the
old men. The new generations are not expected to conform to those old ideals
and lifestyles. We, modern men, are very different creatures than our
forefathers. We are not warriors and explorers like they were. We are not to be
admired by our courage or by our honourable deeds. We are expected to be what
we now are: a cluster of communities of ants.
You
wouldn’t expect an ant to be brave. You wouldn’t expect an ant to give much
weight or place much thought on the concept of honour. And an ant who wants to
be free… oh what a ludicrous thought that is!
Ants
are expected to do one thing well: they’re supposed to work. Ants are supposed
to take orders without questioning, to obey without thinking twice. Ants aren’t
supposed to assert any sort of individual identity, or to pursue wild personal
dreams. Ants are supposed to blend into the crowd, to fit in.
Some
ants though, weren’t born to be ants. So one day, sooner or later, they start
thinking that maybe they’re supposed to do something different with their
lives.
Leonardo
was such a creature. He was certainly not the first though, and certainly
wouldn’t be the last to challenge the status quo. He was, nevertheless, a rebel
at heart, as he was starting to find out, and he would have to face the
inherent difficulties of being different.
Meeting
fellow travellers had made Leonardo feel considerably less lonely in Tangiers.
Somehow, those people were like him, refusing to play by the rules. Most
travellers who had come to Tangiers and decided to stay for a while where the
kind of people who weren’t too concerned to live their lives like everyone else,
like society tells us to.
John
and Keira had chosen to venture into Morocco by themselves to celebrate their
marriage, instead of spending their honeymoon in the comfort of a Caribbean
resort or something of the sort like most newly-weds would. Peter, well, as
John had put it, was sort of like a king of travellers. When he heard his
life-story, Leonardo could only think how remarkable of a man he was. To have
the strength and determination to pursue one’s dreams is something very few
people manage to do. Most people, however, would listen to the same story and
rush into judgement in a desperate attempt to mask the futility of their own
safe, boring lives. Even 20-year-old Sevn was a remarkable rebel with a
fascinating story to tell. After winning a lot of money through the course of a
year playing poker online, he had decided to fill up a backpack with his most
essential belongings and travel as far as his money could take him. Meanwhile,
he had started writing a blog, telling the tales of his travels to whomever
wanted to read them.
Life
is really nothing else but a succession of moments and Leonardo was trying to
enjoy this particular one as much as he could. Probably, he would never go back
to Tangiers ever again, or at least for many years, after this. So he tried to
take in the experience as best as he could.
As he
tried to push away, even if it was only for a shot-while, the sense of anxiety
that was always menacing to crush him. ‘I’ll pull through somehow. I’ll find my
way in life sooner or later.’ That’s what he tried to convince himself of one
time after another even though he wasn’t completely sure if that was really
true or not.
Yet
here he was, in Tangiers, Morocco, surrounded by an interesting group of fellow
travellers. Like him, they were all there because they wanted to feel free.
They had been lured by the promise of adventure in an exotic land, this group
of travellers, of adventurers, of expatriates.
Like many before them they had come
to Morocco to find themselves in a distant land, sheltered from the noise of
the West. Like Burroughs, who too sought shelter in the Moroccan port-city of
Tangiers so many decades before them.
Sitting
on the terrace of a bar that offered him a great view of the port and the vast
sea engulfing it, taking in the warmth of the night breeze and enjoying the
sweet taste of a cup of mint tea in the pleasant company of his fellow
travellers, Leonardo’s thoughts wondered several decades back in time until
finding the influential writer’s timeless exile.
Leonardo
first came into contact with the so-called Beat movement when he was 18, fresh
out of high school, right in the summer after his graduation. His step-dad,
Manuel, an avid reader himself, had given him the book On the Road by Jack Kerouac for his birthday. Like every time
Leonardo really liked a book, he couldn’t stop read it until he finished it,
and by the end of it he had decided that he wanted to be a traveller-writer
like Jack Kerouac. It was only a few years later, already as a University student
in England, that Leonardo dedicated some time to read some of the works of the
two other famous Beatnik writers, William S. Burroughs and Allen Ginsberg.
Burroughs
had been one of the reasons that brought Leonardo to Tangiers. The
north-American writer had written his most famous novel, Naked Lunch, while
living there. The novel was partially semi-auto-biographical account of his
time living in Tangiers, and although Burroughs hedonistic excesses didn’t
appeal greatly to Leonardo, the image of a lone western writer, lost in an
exotic land had always had a powerful appeal over him. Burroughs had lived his
life, like ins friends Kerouac and Ginsberg, the way they wanted to live then
and not the way society wanted them to. They had risen above the mediocrity and
anonymity of the lives that they had been told to live and they had thus
conquered their places in history.
Now
that Leonardo himself was in Tangiers, looking upon the dark Mediterranean sea surrounded by Arabic
words and scents spreading across the night of Tangiers, he wondered if this
was how Burroughs had felt when he was living there.
Days
went by quickly in Tangiers, as Leonardo got to know his fellow travellers
better as well as taking in as much Arab culture as he could.
Often
during the mornings or right after lunch he would go to the beach, sometimes
with Jonh, Keira, Peter or Sven. Most times he went alone he ended up joining
some of the Moroccan lads playing football at the beach, confirming to Leonardo
that football transcends all national boundaries.
In
the afternoons, more often than not Leonardo preferred to seek shelter from the
intense heat in his hostel room. Tiny as it was, it offered adequate protection
from the burning sun and the ample window allowed some wind to come into the
room, offering a slight solace from the heat. Another advantage of staying in a
private environment was that Leonardo was free to hang out the whole time in
his underwear, which was a lot more comfortable than having to face the heat
outside wearing a t-shirt, which in that kind of intense climate could seem
like wearing a wool sweatshirt sometimes. Finally, in the loneliness of his
personal space, he found ideal conditions to spend hours upon hours reading and
writing. It was as if he had been consumed by the spirit of Burroughs, and was
now compelled to dedicate a great portion of his day to literature. Doing so
not only allowed him to fill his day, it sincerely provided him with both
pleasure and focus. Writing his thoughts and memoirs gave him a sense of
purpose unlike anything else in his life.
The
best however, was reserved for the evenings. The group of travellers gathered
every night under the stellar sky, as if they were following a sacred ritual.
Sitting on their beach chairs, gazing upon the star-lit sky and the beautiful
nocturnal urban landscape they talked about travelling, politics, religion and
so on…Their conversation continued on and on, until the sky was no longer
dotted with stars: sparkled darkness replaced by fiery dawn.
One
night, in which he was feeling particularly less shy than usual, and after the
English couple and Sven had gone to bed, Leonardo asked Peter something that he
had been wondering ever since he first heard his tory from John.
‘Peter,
don’t you ever feel lonely?’
‘Of
course I feel lonely sometimes Leonardo, everyone does… Don’t you feel lonely
at times?’
‘Well
yes… but what I really mean is, don’t you feel lonely ALL THE TIME?’ Leonardo
saw how the expression on Peter’s face changed suddenly, from a grim to an expression
that was both serious and sad at the same time. ‘I mean, you don’t need to
answer if you don’t want to. I was just wondering if you don’t ever miss having
a family like most people.’
‘I do
have a family Leonardo, I have a brother that means the world to me and two
nieces that I love very much.’
‘Yes,
but you know what I mean. A wife, kids…’
‘I
see what you mean now…’ said Peter after thinking for a while.
‘You
see, a lot of people that are close to me have asked me that same question, and
every time someone asks me that I feel a slight sadness deep in my heart.’
‘Oh,
I’m sorry Peter I didn’t mean to…’
‘No,
it’s okay. You see, every time someone asks me that question, in spite of that
sadness that I just told you about, I also feel something else very deeply.’
‘What?’
Asked Leonardo, wide-eyed and genuinely curious.
‘I
feel proud of myself, and then, right away, I realize that everything I’ve done
so far is worth it. Everyone has their own destiny Leonardo, and I believe that
mine was to dedicate my life to travelling. I believe that we only have one
life and we need to make it count. I chose to make it count by following my
inner desire and I stick by that choice.’ He paused briefly, allowing his words
to sink in Leonardo’s mind, and then continued, ‘I’m 52 years old and I can
truly say that, looking back, I don’t regret the choices I’ve made. I think
that not many people of my age can say the same thing… Besides, you never know
what the future holds, maybe I’m not too old and too ugly to find a wife yet!’
He said letting a big smile regain control of his usually joyous face and
prompting Leonardo to chuckle as he looked at Peter’s blue eyes.
When
the time finally came, a couple of weeks later, the two men said goodbye with a
big hug.
‘Godspeed
my young friend. I hope you find what you’re looking for. Maybe we’ll meet
again. If you come to Australia some day I might even introduce you to my
oldest niece, she’s about your age and she’s very beautiful.’
‘I
would like that Peter,’ Leonardo answered sincerely, ‘I hope that you find
yourself a wife some day, I don’t think you’re too old or ugly for that yet so
don’t worry.’
‘Sven
decided to go with Leonardo to the desert, so they both left Tangiers together
leaving the veteran traveller lone in Tangiers. He would stay there for a few
more weeks before going to Europe and then finally returning to Australia where
maybe he would find a woman like Leonardo hoped… or maybe he would just keep
travelling…
A
week had passes since John and Keira returned to England, where they were
taking their first steps in their new life as a married couple.
‘So what
do you think the desert will be like?’ The young swede asked his fellow
backpacker.
‘I
dunno… but I’ve never been to the desert before, have you?’
‘Nope…’
answered Sven as he kept walking alongside Leonardo.
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