“If you wait until evening, and then walk silently along the walls, or go up on one of the hills and sit quietly on the old stones, you will hear it. It is almost a whisper, like the breeze, but you hear it all the same, the voice of history. Malacca is one of those places. They whisper in Chinese, in Portuguese, in Dutch, in Malay, in English, some even in Italian, others in languages no one speaks any more. But it hardly matters; the stories told by the dead of Malacca no longer interest anyone.”
I was woken by chants in stereo coming from nearby mosques. I rolled over to the other side, moaned, having forgotten that on the other side I had a broken collarbone, rolled back to the first side and covered my head with a pillow with medium to low soundproofing properties. Continue reading
31.12.2016, as midnight struck, I sent a lantern towards the Kyrgyz sky. We started the year by tracking it all the way up. And then we took a bath in a frozen river, visited the Avatar land, Piotrek became a Chinese TV star, we did not get eaten by Komodo dragons, we had silk worms for dinner, I learned how to open coconuts with a machete and Piotrek – how to plant pineapples and banana trees. We crossed over 23 000 km, most of which hitchhiking. We’ve eaten with a knife and fork, chopsticks, spoon and fork, hands, bread. We’ve survived together almost every day and night in the past year and we still want to keep surviving!
We’ll be celebrating the end of this year in Timor-Leste, on the very edge of Asia.
Ua-ua-ua-ua! I’m in love with your body! Bombastic, ele fantastic, pa pa l’americano, asi voce me mata, ai se eu te pego, ai aiiiii so hot in here! so ice ice baby… ice ice favorito baby! pasito pasito oppa gangnam suave suavecito gangnam style poquito a poquito, mista lova lova sube sube!