Dear Pan American Highway,
I vaguely remember doing my first bike ride. What I do remember is the build up to that very day. I was anxious over the outcome to quite an extent. As if being stuck in a remake of „Groundhog Day“ my mind kept looping a dream of dad cycling alongside my brand new cruiser over and over again.
When all of a sudden the ground would fold and swallow us both!
It was way back in „El Perdido“ when I started to realize that in all this great uncertainty, in all these numerous setbacks – I am not on my own.
The Panam Highway would always be my anchor.
I curse you for sending me up another ten switchbacks or down some bumpy dirt road just to end up battered and bruised. Afterwards we don’t talk for days but you never turn your back on me. You never leave me standing alone by the side of the road when the storm is about to hit. Occasionaly I am so fed up with the grind of travel but in fact it doesn’t take much to feel rejuvinated again. The next „estacion“ (service station) signboard would always do the trick. The plain thought of a Nespresso machine and some steaming hot brew would turn it all around in instant.
Not to mention how I miss the smell of mum’s pancakes and the unique taste of grandma’s jam. When I wake up with so much longing for them I can always find someone down the road frying a delicious egg bagel or a stray dog barking at me as if he is shouting in my face :
This is now.
Cherish the moment!
