With a jet-lagged head, I step out of the car. It's gloomy and drizzling of rain. I tighten up my raincoat and scarf.
My two months in the Netherlands had been nothing but summer and the sun. In Melbourne, winter had definitely taken a long stretch into what is supposed to be spring.
It`s 9 O`clock in the morning and El Bolson is waking up. Fully packed we open the door of the hostel. A cool breeze freshens up our faces and clears our noses. We turn around one last time to shout a “Ciao! Suerte!” to everybody and then we`re fully ready to hit the road. It`s freezing cold. The morning mist has left a silver glance on the grass in the park. It`s about 2 kilometer walk to the beginning of the highway. We quicken up the pace to warm ourselves up. The heavier we breath, the more steam appears from our mouths. As two walking locomotives we pass the gas station. I turn around and start walking backwards. Pretending I have done this trick already a thousand times I put my right thumb in the air and start moving it up and down.
An old Volkswagen pulls over. The poor car is clearly on one of his last drives. The window of the passenger’s seat is turned winded down and two young blokes smile at us with their charming yellow teeth. “Where are you guys going?” asks the driver.
After a burn-out it was time for a change. I quit my job, sold my stuff and bought a one-way ticket to the Dominican Republic. What was supposed to be a 4 month adventure turned into 2,5 years and counting......
Photo by: Vanessa Marques Barreto