It was 8 years ago when I first stepped onto the psychedelic beaches of Goa, India. I was young, impressionable, and had no experience whatsoever when it came to mind-altering substances or spirituality.
“I travel to enrich myself, I write to inspire others,” Carlo Taglia, somewhere in his van on our way to Vaerøy, Norway.
Everything was so colourful that we began to look like we’re all one. We couldn’t tell one face from another.
Indian trains are pure hardcore. They’re slightly faster than your bicycle, smell like an overused public toilet, and rock harder than Mick Jagger.
Here’s our itinerary for today: Nothing.
The trip basically started bad and turned into a disaster.
What happens when you take a pair of conservative Asian parents and put them in the middle of Amsterdam’s (in)famous red light district?
Even if it was before noon, most of the bunch of “colored” folks were drunk and out of control.
After a delicious home-cooked meal, we had some beers next to the bonfire, where a local old man shared his wisdom.
It's a day when any differences we've had throughout the year are replaced by laughs, love and most importantly, aqua vitae.