Journey to Africa

These days, I get asked a lot where I will go next. Looking back on the past three years, this is understandable.

Nomadic Lab Crack Rat
I mean, it’s worse than a lab rat on a steady diet of methamphetamins.

I pray that the supreme being of your choice will #neverstop to inshalla me this way.

What an awesome question. And it all started in Africa, heart of humanity, cradle of life.

I know weird, considering that I am a 70s kid from Austria. But if my parents didn’t drag me to hippie concerts in Vienna to hear songs about riding bicycle to said Africa, past Bedouins, girls with undies on their heads (his 70s un-pc words), and bloodsuckers feasting on you in river bed camp sites, I may have never left.

All of which explains this blissed out video in Baja California. Here I fly downhill past a gorgeously undulating, yet completely anonymous landscape that would be in a national park anywhere else.

And I sing. My favorite travel song – Journey to Africa, by Arik Brauer. An ode to nomadism, the age old urge to keep moving that 10k years of pulling weeds haven’t erased, yet.

When is the last time you belted out a song like nobody was listening?

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