Orangenlandschaft und Sonnenstich (05.06.)

Erst abseits von Gesellschaft, dann Ostsprung, bald Sonnenstich und anschließend Podcast-Psychose in einer Höhle
Emmanuelle und Gilles als die Verkörperung  alternativen Lebens zum Gesellschaftstrubel, mein erster Rest-Day durch Krankheit und eine Podcast-Psychose 

Als ich die hübsche Großstadt Sassari und ihren Vorort hinter mir ließ, dauerte es nicht lange und eine Person hielt mit seinem Truck vor mir auf der langen Straße an. Gespannt auf das kommende lief ich auf ihn zu und wir kamen sofort ins Gespräch. Er erklärte mir in gebrochenem Englisch, dass er in der Nähe wohne, allerdings in den Bergen und nicht am Meer, was eigentlich mein Ziel gewesen wäre. Allerdings wollte ich die Chance auf Neues nutzen und vergaß somit schnell mein Vorhaben und stieg ein. Oh oh - bei fremden Männern ins Auto steigen und mit ihnen zu sich nach Hause fahren? Das ist ne 50/50 Sache auf die man keine Münze werfen möchte… er erzählte mir noch nichts von seinen tollen Hunden oder dass er mir Kaffee anbieten würde; das war also nicht das Lockende. Er hatte selbst vergessen, dass er heute noch in den Osten der Insel fahren würde, sprich das holte mich auch nicht ab. Es war ganz simpel seine Erscheinung, seine nette Art im Nirgendwo für jemanden anzuhalten und die Erzählung seines Zuhauses, über welches er selbst so freudig aufgeregt schien. Ich stieg ein, aber nicht aus Hochmut oder dem Denken ihm körperlich überlegen zu sein, nein! Ganz ehrlich hatte ich einfach alles Gelernte meiner Eltern vergessen und keinen Bock mehr auf Laufen gehabt. Mir wäre beinahe alles Mögliche lieber gewesen und natürlich hatte ich wieder diesen Eimer voll Glück…

Der gute Mann entpuppte sich als der liebe und herzenswarme Gilles aus Frankreich, Toulon, der sich mit seiner Freundin aus der Zivilisation zurück gezogen hatte und hier auf Sardinien ein Stück Land erworben hatte. Sie leben tatsächlich abseits von städtischen Privilegien, das heißt sie sorgen für ihren eigenen Strom, sie versuchen sich selbst völlig zu ernähren, sie haben einen Brunnen und arbeiten untereinander mit der Nachbarschaft, um sich gegenseitig mit dem zu versorgen, was man alleine nicht beschaffen kann. Er schien unglaublich froh über diese Entwicklung und erzählte mir von seinem ungemein spannenden Leben. Er selbst hatte auch viel von der Welt gesehen und in allen Teilen Frankreichs gelebt. Für über zwanzig Jahre war er ein Lehrer für das Surfen und er versicherte mir, dass Sardinien der beste Ort dafür sei, falls ich es vor habe. Ich hatte nichts dergleichen im Sinn gehabt, aber jetzt da er davon redete, war ich sofort Feuer und Flamme. Bis auf meine einzige Erfahrung mit Surfen, die ich auf Hawaii machen durfte, als ich mit meiner Linnéa, einer Bekanntschaft aus Kanada, die Stadt Honolulu unsicher machte, hatte ich sonst keine Idee davon und freute mich vielleicht mit meinen Eltern, die ja auch bald auf die Insel kommen würden, ein paar schöne Erinnerungen erschaffen zu können, wenn wir die neuartige Weise des Wassergleitens, die sich mein Papa erschlossen hatte, gemeinsam erkunden. Die Straßen wurden steiler und trotz meiner begrenzten Aussicht, da meine riesige Tasche auf meinem Schoß stand und mich und alle Sinne erdrückte, hatte ich die Chance die wunderschöne Natur beim vorbeifahren aufzunehmen, während wir immer tiefer in die nordsardinischen Berge eintauchten. Mit einem guten Longboard könnte ich von oben aus die unglaubliche Szene aus dem Film ‘Walter Mitty’ in Island nachspielen - zumindest in Gedanken finde ich meinen Spaß daran. Im Angesicht der Realität würde ich nach der ersten Kurve zu einem kleinen Häufchen Elend an der nicht existenten Leitplanke zusammenschrumpfen und das Board anschließend aus den Gebüschen pulen müssen, um Feuerholz für ein Feuer zu haben, welches ich nicht entfachen kann…  wieso bin ich nie Pfadfinder geworden? Es gibt keinen geeigneten Zeitpunkt, um sich doof genug dafür zu fühlen. Im nächsten Leben verpass ich’s bestimmt nicht! Gilles und ich kamen nach einem kleinen Weg ins Unterholz an, doch der Schlamm war tief, ein kleiner Bach lief über den Pfad und der alte Truck drückte beim Vorbeifahren dicke Halme des Schilfwaldes am Wegesrand an den Boden bei dem Versuch seinen Ort zu erreichen; sein Tor öffnete sich durch Menschenhand aufgezogen und der schlimm nach Oliven stinkende Truck kommt halb legal zuhause an. Der Geruch fiel mir erst in der Mitte der Fahrt auf, wäre aber normal Riechenden schon aufgefallen, als das Auto an mir vorbei fuhr, um kurz danach zu stoppen. Ich lerne die Hintergründe noch.
Ich steige auf staubiger Erde aus und schaue mich in dem Gelände und dessen Garten der überall ist um, welchen er um ihr Tiny Haus herum kreiert hatte. Ein zweites Auto zeugt vom Besuch eines Lokalen, der ihm auszuhelfen schien und beim Haus angekommen, begrüßt mich seine wundervolle Freundin Emmanuelle ein bisschen um ihr begrenztes Englisch verlegen. Sie hat hübsche dunkelblonde Haare, die sichtbar viel Sonne abgekommen und sie hat dieses klassische Sonnensprossengesicht mit netten blauen Augen und dünnen Lippen. Jetzt ist es passiert - ich habe mich an eine kleine Personenbeschreibung gewagt. Das hatte ich bisher nach besten Versuchen umgangen, weil es mir selber in Büchern oft genug nicht weiterhalf und meiner eigenen Vorstellung ein wenig im Weg stand. Ich freue mich immer über Feedback. Ganz unten beim Kapitelende gibt es diesen kleinen Kasten für Kommentare. Lese ich immer gerne! Wir beide, Emmanuelle und ich, können die Sprache des Gegenüber nicht sprechen, aber auch so schaffen wir es in der kommenden Zeit ein wenig Austausch über unsere Leben zu tätigen. Weil: mein Hirn kratzt im Hintergrund die Reste des Italienischunterrichts zusammen und sie scheint auch mal mit der Sprache in Kontakt gekommen zu sein. Wir reden also auf italienisch und meine Lehrerin hätte alle Gründe gefunden mich nun nachträglich doch noch durchfallen zu lassen. Eine linguale Schande, welche mich nicht abschreckt, sondern mich vielmehr motiviert die Sprache auf ein Neues aufzunehmen und eine solch schöne Facette wie eine mediterrane Sprache nicht einfach in das dunkle Loch der Verzweiflung fallen zu lassen. 

Die beiden Menschen die ich soeben kennen lernen durften, hätten besonderer nicht sein können. In ihrer Lebensweise in absoluter Abgeschiedenheit, mit dem Garten, der sie nährte, mit dem Wasser aus dem eigenen sehr breiten und ziemlich alten offenen Brunnen, mit dem Wald und den Bergwänden die sie umgeben, verkörperten sie einen absoluten Traum des Lebens abseits unserer Gesellschaft. Genauso fühlte ich mich wie im Traum, als ich an einen Tisch unter einem Schattendach gebeten wurde und Platz nehmen konnte, den Rucksack neben mich stellte und die beiden sofort wieder in diesem stillen Einklang mit allem an ihre Arbeit gingen und ich sofort das Gefühl hatte angekommen zu sein und ihre Leben ungefiltert miterleben zu dürfen. Gilles brachte mir davor noch meinen ersten Kaffee nach Wochen und ich trank die winzige, wohl schmeckende Tasse aus weiß gewelltem Glas aus. Was ist dieses Material aus dem weiße Tassen sind? Industrie-Porzellan? Es schmeckte auch unwissend darüber. Ich aß den Rest von meinem beinahe überfälligen Spinat aus Cagliari und guckte immer noch überwältigt durch die Gegend. Meine Blicke streiften über Perma-Beete - lang gezogene Haufen aus Kompost mit Stroh bedeckt, aus denen allerlei Pflanzen schossen. Ich zog als erstes meine Schuhe aus, um den trockenen Boden und das genauso trockene darauf verteilte Schilf mit meinen Füßen fühlen zu können. Meine in Spanien zerstörte Fußhaut zeigte sich sehr dankbar für der erfreulich zarte Laub aus allerlei Biomasse. Danach lief ich umher und schaute mir alles genau an. Gilles und der einheimische Giuseppe arbeiteten an einem Nebengebäude und als ich in die Nähe kam, erkannte ich zwei wunderschöne ziemlich große Hunde einer mir völlig fremden Rasse, die fröhlich tobend auf mich zuliefen und mich direkt in ihr Herz zu schließen schienen. Die Namen der beiden Geschwister waren Mana und Manuia. Polynesische Namen mit der Bedeutung von Energie und einem polynesischen Salut. Beide waren verspielte Schlabbermäuler und schnappten manchmal aufgeregt, wenn sie einen zu überwältigen drohten, völlig unreflektiert auf ihre überwältigenden Körpergrößen. Am Boden zu sitzen und mit ihnen zu kuscheln, erwies sich dementsprechend als unpraktisch, aber als umso lustiger. Sie trugen einmal blaues und einmal rotes Geschirr auf ihrem schneeweißen sehr kurzen Fell, untersuchten spielend das Gelände nach neuen Spielfreunden, wie kleinen Mäusen in den Perma-Beeten, nach welchen sie dann mit diesem typischen Hunde-Hechter tauchten, mit Anlauf und gehobenen Körper stoßen sie dann in die aufgelockerte Komposterde mit der Nase voran, wie es Möwen ins blaue Ungewisse des Ozeans tun. Als sie von mir abließen, hatte ich eine kurze Zeit für mich und konnte im kühlen Schatten der Bäume in dem ich nun saß, gemütlich meditieren - mit geöffneten Augen und mit der inneren Freiheit Dinge zu fühlen. Ein lauer Wind raschelte durch die umstehenden Bäume und die bewaldeten Hügel der Ferne zogen die Grenze des für mich einzusehenden Ortes. Eine absolute Schönheit wie sie mich zwar schon oft in meinem Leben umgeben durfte, aber eben noch nie in diesem Umstand und noch nie hier auf Sardinien mit diesen Menschen. Gilles kam später zu mir und erzählte mir aufgeregt von einem Pfad durch die dichten Buschwelten auf seinem Grund, der in die Tiefen seines Grundstückes führen würden, und sagte ich müsste beim Bambus angekommen nach links kehren, um zum vernachlässigten Nachbargrundstück vorzudringen. Verliebt schwärmt er von den Unmengen an Orangen, Mandarinen und Zitronen vor, die dort nicht geerntet als Fallobst schlecht wurden. Er klärte mich auf, dass die Nachbarn eigentlich nur im Urlaub waren, aber ewig alt und unfähig das ganze Obst zu ernten und so gingen die beiden Hunde wissend vor und ich ihnen nach, um der Sache auf den Grund zu gehen. Gilles hatte mir eine Tragetasche mitgegeben, damit ich genug Vorräte für meine noch kommende Reise, die er sehr bewunderte, dabei hätte. Und so kam es, dass ich nach zwei Minuten Fußmarsch in eine freie Fläche eintauchte und mich tatsächlich von all den Bäumen umrundet fand, von denen er so fabulierte. Nicht nur die Bäume waren beschmückt mit ihren Früchten, sondern auch die Böden waren ein Teppich aus Orange. Ich konnte gar nicht warten, alles zu probieren und so fing ich an mich von einer Geschmacksexplosion zur nächsten zu arbeiten, bis ich beim besten Willen nicht mehr die Hand zum Mund führen könnte und begann Fruchtsaft zu sabbern… 

Erlebnisdichtung 

06.06.2025, laying on my mat under a giant rock after a horrible night, slightly sick and taking my first break after 3 weeks of constant traveling

[Original Text in English]

Yeah, I’m just as confused as you are... the story about yesterday will continue in a second but until then I’ll describe what’s happening right now, which isn’t too much, don’t worry. So, if I were to put the finger on the problem and analyse what actually happens, I would need to guess that my head has gotten too warm yesterday walking through the last hours of afternoon. The struggles of the past night are beyond imagination and the outer circumstances surrounding me were almost as bad as the ones in my head. In yesterday’s evening I climbed over a big stone wall because I had seen this massive bunch of rocks with enormous caves in between them behind it and thought most assured that this might be the place for the night. Climbing a wall like that to enter a property of vineyards is not an easy task with a backpack as mine… After figuring out that climbing onto the top of those massive bolders was a thing of the impossible, I instead just put myself in the floor next to them which could’ve already not been more uncomfortable if there wasn’t the slightly annoying addition of uncountable troops of ants and stinging mosquitos exploring the change of environment. I was full of them when I first laid down without a blanket just to calm for a second. My legs had dozens of super tiny ants on them and the type of insect stinging me was just as well incredibly small. I then moved a couple of meters and wrapped myself up in my blanket in a way that not even air was able to enter anymore. I had to cover everything and by then I realised that I might have another problem. My blue and white jacket from Canada was covering my entire head and enclosing it. For me it was left to notice, how hot and boiling the ball on my neck felt. I had caught a fever and in the end I had to give up on the jacket and make friends with the insects in the air of night. And still, this wouldn’t stay the worst. Over the night I had headaches out of this world, sometimes waking up and gazing into the moon enlightened sky while my head made a super loud noise, a buzzing and stinging all together. I felt drugged in the worst way possible but through that I had some pretty interesting experiences about the way I perceived and when laying awake for hours without end, I sank into a deep sort of meditation going far into a realm of the unknown, when I later had some sort of real ego desolution which I could keep writing about for ages, but it’s still missing something. An Ego Desolution got first known to me during my time on Vancouver Island when I got in contact with Golden Teachers as the Cubensis. Ego Desolution means, that everything we consider to be ourselves, is vanishing in front of our eyes. The data stored in our heads, identifying ourselves, just gets forgotten and you wonder badly who you are, what this place is that you’re laying in and you feel lost and alone, since the fact that you have a family is lost somewhere in between those two hemispheres of yours. Such a thing happened to me, with the consequence that I was laying at this place in a Sardinian night and felt to be no one. A nobody, as random as one could ever think of yourself. I imagined to be anybody, and it worked - I felt it. I imagined to come from any family, from any country, with any appearance to be called my own. I forgot who I was and became one with all the others we share life with, who aren’t me. In that was an amazing experience, if there wasn’t this loud buzzing and a vicious headache floating in the air. This fever dream induced me with a perception that later on let me wake up to this enlightening feeling of who One truly is. When all this data and perceiving of Self returns, it hits hard and becomes clarified in a way it was never before. I woke up to who I am once again very clear, just a few minutes before I was able to fall asleep again. Nothing actively changes in life, it goes on, but still this feels to be of highest importance.

Now that the morning has broken and I’ve actually gained four hours of sleep, I was very clear about my body needing a rest. Four weeks of travelling with Martin like this and eating only so little, sleeping mostly bad in any imaginable circumstance were enough to convince me. I wouldn’t get up today. Very slowly I moved all my things under the big rock and later down in the shadow, the place I’m currently writing from. Looking around me there is dry grass, granite splinters as well as glass shards where my mat is laying. It’s very interesting to watch the grass from really close as my head is resting on the floor and I don’t plan on moving from here until later today, actually giving me the time to cope, to write and to regain a bit of bodily strength. I feel good and the fever, if it ever was there, is gone again.

So! Let’s continue with this fabulous day and it’s even greater people from yesterday. Two society independent beings in the middle of the Sardinian highland living the things they plant and using the energy they produce themselves. Emmanuelle and Gilles!

Journal

05.06.2025

We had stopped at the moment of me entering the paradise filled with oranges, lemons and mandarines accompanied by the two more than lovely dogs Mana and Manuia. My basket I brought with me was filled up quicker than you could imagine and no tree stayed untested. While being at the process of overdosing on acid, I had to realise that the taste of every fruit differed from their fruit mates. The fruits of one and the same tree didn’t taste alike! Gilles earlier explained that the reason for this is the size and age of the branch on which the fruit grows. The ones directly hanging from the oldest main branches have a fuller and fruitier taste compared to those growing on the thin and young branches, which makes sense in a way many things in nature tend to make sense. Interesting. I for some reason am stuck on the ear worm of ‘Dancing cheek to cheek’ and I am surprised of how right this lyrics seems to be. Despite the beauty I’m living through, the imagination of having my loved one with me to dance cheek on cheek with them, is even more appealing. Nevertheless, this moment is also extraordinary and I couldn’t get rid of the smile I’ve been wearing since I entered the property. Back at the tiny house of Gilles and Manu, which is made of left over wood from a window company back in France, and then brought over to here by Gilles when he moved 9 months ago, I admire the colouring and the beautiful simplicity of it. The colours are vibrant but old and they still shine in a thick blue tone in contrast with the calming yellow of wood itself. The door is always opened and in the one room that exists in those walls are two mattresses on wooden frames. Another room to its right was added, basically just a roof on top of a few wooden pillars, but with very nice cloths drenched in colours hanging down from it and  with a big window at the side wall. In there is a kitchen, a fridge, a giant Batterie which is charged by their sun panels in the yard, a sink that has a manual pump next to it and a shower on the right back side. I smile as I see the three Opinel knives on the shelf which are identical to the one that Martin and I have been using for the last three weeks while walking through Spain for over 500 kilometres. I am able to help Emmanuelle by cutting everything up for the salad she is preparing which I do with joy. The actual kitchen knife is the very sharpest I’ve ever used and forgive me for being all about knives in that second but you weren’t there when I sliced that tomato! A tomato! Every other knife hates those veggies but not this one. It went through it like it was air and the pickling cucumber was done in a second just as the cabbage. Manu, short for Emmanuelle but dangerously close to her dog’s name, added tuna later on and I ate it, later also learning a bit more about nutrition which I will try to share if I don’t forget. Gilles has been working with the local Giuseppe until now but they both join as we serve the lunch. It’s really fun to talk with Giuseppe because we have to translate it from many angles and often Gilles talks to me in Italian and in English to Giuseppe. Giuseppe asks about my whereabouts and what I’m up to. When I tell him that I’m traveling without nothing, it’s pure confusion in this old man’s face as he’s trying to read in the other faces if it’s a joke he’s supposed to laugh at. He couldn’t understand why to leave one place and travel. He also can’t imagine how to live without everything you need, being minimalistic with your belongings or simply sleeping on the ground. He’s a nice man and I love the spark that one can see every time he understood a phrase of what I said. His handshake weighs heavy in memory if one can describe it like that. I guess I can. Before lunch I had exchanged a few things with Manu but since we had to communicate mainly in Italian, you can imagine on how this went. But despite the struggle to find the right words I did learn a lot about this special being. Five years ago she gave up her life back in France, divorced and left her job. In the deepest struggle of her life she found to meditation and says that it saved her life, which I find deeply inspiring for it shows the depth in value to this practice that stays hidden for most people throughout an entire life. If I’m not totally wrong, then Manu said that she and Gilles have been living on a sailing boat together. For a fact I know that Gilles did that for seven years in the incredible landscapes of the Polynesian islands. Yeah, I think it was like that, and when they tried to buy land on the island that didn’t work so they both moved to Sardinia. Gilles still has that boat over there on those islands colonised by France and later he showed me pictures of a world that didn’t look real to me. If he hadn’t promised it, I wouldn’t have believed that a single picture of those would’ve been of this world. He showed me pictures of him surfing in waves of a size that I didn’t know they existed.  He showed me the fruit they eat over there and I had to laugh because I thought to know those fruits. But the ones I’ve seen in the supermarket were nothing like it. Not at all! The island he was on was made of a volcano and not much more. A forest surrounding it and then there was this amazing rim of coral reefs framing the entire island. The colours can not be described with human language, the water, the sand, all of it, must be a paradise in itself. But most mind blowing was a sunset from there. A pure red, as if the whole sky was bleeding roses. That escalated... back to the lunch. The salad with tuna was joined on the plate by bread, unfortunately baguette again which I can’t see anymore, then we had local olive oil, which transformed the bread magically in the best snack in the world. I had cut some oranges earlier and when I took a few slices, Manu brought out a block of dark chocolate. She also gave me a cigarette, my first one in seven weeks, and the pleasure I felt for having such a great combination as the sweetness of the orange combined with the intensity of that chocolate is not describable.! Gilles shared something like a recipe as he said that one should definitely mix honey, olive oil and almond powder with a bit of salt. I thought to be able to imagine what it would be like, and it’s now very much on top of the list of things I have to try. Any not, a bit of oil, nuts in small pieces and salt.

Gilles and I got into a deep conversation about this land and the culture, about war on water, about the help people bring to their neighbour and how that used to be so common after the war and he claims that it had ended with the beginning of television. The television brought the world to the homes and drove the happenstances of the world in between the people and their shared life. We talk about the quality of water and about nutrition. He has a friend being a surgeon who tried to eat only raw food for over two years. From that experience he is now able to tell, that your body manages, but to a high cost. The doctor described how he couldn’t memorise things or how his body didn’t function in the way it was supposed to. I for myself consider now to stick with the balance of not eating meat when there are other options, but trying some when there is high quality and when it’s local and brought up under good conditions. With that my period of being vegetarian, despite that I had broken it a few times already, totally ends. I felt great while being vegetarian but my mum always had to worry because I didn’t want to take B12 supplements. Also I have to criticise vegetarians who say that they don’t eat meat because they don’t want animals to live in suffering as they do in the mass production halls. Instead one could help more by supporting local farmers and paying money to what supports eco friendly approaches instead of not eating it at all for the animals sake. Not doing something has never seemed to be the right approach to any sort of activism - simply based on the language issue the word ‘activism’ embodies. Gilles said some beautiful things about the world and the way it functions. Gilles and I later on go out with his truck to get fresh water from the natural spring just down the road. His two dogs chase us while driving there and when we arrive I learn about the ‘Nuraghe’ which are ancient buildings on the island and I wonder a lot about his fact, that no scientist ever found a proof for any type of war on the island. He also tells me about this incredible work done by another culture in India, I believe it to be called Barabar, which is a human made cave in hardest granite. It’s super old and no one knows how ancient folks were able to create such things since it isn’t possible to be recreated even with today’s technology. Gilles is really awesome. I told him earlier, that he definitely needs to write a book. How it’s important to get his words out to inspire people by proofing that it’s possible to break out and live without money, doing the things you desired in your human nature, so close to nature and so far away from the poisons of civilisation. He found some freedom and I hope for so many others to find something similar for themselves one day. Apparently it’s not the process which is hard, but the decision alone. He told me that all his neighbours are people who were pretty rich and then fled from society because they started to be disgusted by so many things, just like him. He also lived the type of life I would hope for that my parents could discover it one day. Living on a boat in the most beautiful area of the world. He simply did it. I believe that he would have the power of words and actions to show and prove that anyone can live a life like this.

Back in his garden we transport all his giant bottles of water to the places they belong, we install them and he has flowing water again and the source of life for his plants and then he gives me a description of the way his whole garden works. He explains the layering system to create a perfect soil for plants to grow. He shows me the perma-culture and another thing that I find really cool: a tree trunk of some random olive tree with small branches of another type of olive tree, white olives, taped onto the top. The already existing trunk and its root system now ‘powers’ the new branch and will create another type of tree at the crown. Totally amazing. The whole nature complex is absolutely incredible and I find great joy by looking around and seeing how everything is so happy being where it is. It’s almost incredible that it actually works. He shows me a tomato plant that is being watered once a week and which looks magnificent. He tells me of an old neighbour who has worked on creating the perfect veggie seed that wouldn’t need too much water over his 45 years of experience and experimenting. I’m blown away.

Since Emmanuelle and Gilles want to leave at six, we prepare the shower so I can have a cold refreshment which I couldn’t have appreciated more. He hands me a smooth white block of natural soap coming from Polynesia. The shower is great and super cold. After that I tell them to do a short nap until they want to leave and when I want to lay down on the floor, they offer me their blue and red hammock instead. A hammock! I love those things and I already know that they will be my future of traveling at some point since they can go pretty much where ever and they are way more comfortable than the ground. In deep joyfulness about all the good things I’m blessed to experience, I sink into the swinging cotton mat and after the two dogs have said their goodbyes, I fall asleep for just a while. The air couldn’t be calmer, the sun through the shadow roof not more pleasing, the bird sounds not more relaxing and the very slight swinging in the wind is the greatest bliss to myself.

I wake up, then pack, head over into the car and off we drive. One hundred kilometres to the east as they will drive to Oblia and pick up a friend from the airport. I looked up a place on the map and decided to jump out 30 kilometres before their destination so I could walk downwards more south and finish up my journey along the east coast where my parents would plan to stay for a week. The drive was nice and calming. We eat a few cookies and listen to good Reggae played on a CD as the landscape around us quickly changes from forests with a view over the sea, into flat dry land with gras into crazier mountains and far reaching dense small tree population. At the place named La Palazzina I ask them to stop. Before I leave I ask an important question for me: would me and my family be able to visit while we stay here together on the island? They both love the idea and I am very glad, hoping to make a nice event for my family out of it, doing hikes, cuddling dogs and talking about sailing while eating those oranges and mandarines with purple red fruit flesh. I hug them both and they wish me well. Two marvellous people I had the pleasure to meet there, and I couldn’t be more grateful for it.

Well, I guess it’s back onto walking now and since that wouldn’t be too exciting I will skip most of it. My backpacks are combined as the one massive thing again instead of wearing one in the front and the other one in the back. That did work until now and I’m happy I found this option during my walk from the airport to Cagliari town but it hurt my lower back a lot now and therefore one sided weight is preferred apparently. I don’t understand my own body fully but we’ll learn from each other. Also - my belly button is bleeding slightly and that’s because of the bag at the front; so also no good. I have dinner an hour later and sit on the side of the highway on a cosy stone wall watching the mountains slowly consuming the nice setting sun. I have dry and very flat bread with me and combine each bite with some peanuts. Chewing this combination enough almost makes it taste like a real peanut butter bread. I pay a lot of Intention on the amount of the chewing and end up doing that sometimes 80 times or more per bite. A very calming practice which lets you focus on your food properly and makes it easier for your stomach to work it all out. 

Remember my upcoming night that I told you about in the beginning of this days writing? The fever like state I was going through with the noise in my head? Yeah, we are on our way there, to reach those giant stones after the hard to climb wall. And you know what was one of the mayor issues? For one, obviously the sun and the fact that I don’t use sunscreen to cover my head, because I thought one centimetre of hair might protect me from UV. That wasn’t the case. But there was something else. Based on my upcoming travels to Tanzania in September my dad had sent me a podcast about Africa’s situation, its wars and emigration, the hunger and suffering. One hour of podcast, presented by Lanz & Precht, those two grey haired stars on the philosophic sky of podcasts, which poison my dad’s mind for way too long now. I am eager to understand what my dad is going through. The last podcast he shared with me that I listened to, was during Canada and it triggered my most complex depression until now. I have to be thankful for the growth I received through that and for it being the reason I’m here now, but may somebody turn of this Internet, which puts so much evil and poison into the head of our people distracting them from our own lives, confronting them with the suffering of the world, where they can’t influence it and making them feel numb, confused and depressed about the world’s state as it seems to be at the time. I could rage about this without end, but I’ll silence it for now and make my head up on how to change things about it. 

I said to myself to keep walking as long as this podcast is playing and so I ended up here at this rock formation an hour later which is a long hour under such most horrible circumstances of walking and listening. When the podcast ended, I was confused by how fast my brain got rid of it… I didn’t think of it again and it was just gone. It was as if my brain had taken safety precautions and rescued me from something unknown. Much worse was the fact, that it didn’t stay locked away for long at all. In the middle of the night, feeling all the stitches by insects, hearing this buzzing in my ears while the pressure on my head was immense, my head threw me into a loop of thinking about what I have heard again and again, resolving into my Ego Desolution. The dimensions of pain and suffering, the hopelessness and the corruption displayed themselves in front of my inner eye for hours without end. Thinking about thousands of people giving up their lives and risking to lose it by trying to escape over the ocean because they have nothing to lose in those described places. Thinking of a war in dimensions no one could grasp, the greatest one in Sudan where 30 million people live without anything and are literally about to starve to death, especially after Trump took back the support of America, the USAid. Thinking of the fisherman who have lost everything because outer nations came and fish the seas empty. About the birth rate and the millions of children growing up without any hope for a good life. The list of things that shot through my head goes on and on but the worst thing for me was the feeling of paralysis about what I could do about it. I felt so very helpless being confronted with this world and its uncountable issues and the feeling of not being able to change anything of it. And then I thought of my dad who had sent me this podcast. I remember the time since he had started listening to podcasts without end. Him being a bus driver, he has plenty of time to listen to all of them and if he has heard what I just listened to and felt the same, that explains everything about his behaviour and mentality. But this is the same for all of our society. We hear and see all the horrible of the world on a daily basis and our brain has to protect itself by shutting down and closing the eyes from it. We feel so helpless and no one knows where to start, what to fix or whom to help. This is sick and it makes us the sickest. I haven’t felt this bad for months and therefore I pledge that there is no good in listening to news, podcasts or anything like it, if one doesn’t get up and start doing anything about it.

What I hated most about this podcast, was the fact that Precht had ended it with a quote in which it said that the white man came to Africa with a bible in their hand and they visited the black men on their land and told them to pray and close their eyes. When the black men opened their eyes again they had the Bible in their hand and the white man had taken their land. It’s a nice quote but there is a big issue. Not a single time in the entirety of this podcast was a real call to action or more important, any type of approach to change something. They just flooded you with information and it felt demolishing but never did they tell the listener what exactly to do. They talk about humanity and nations, but we aren’t those. They tell us how bad everything is and they are right. But by simply telling it they don’t change a thing. They depress a society as much as every other news channel does. They paralyse us with such negativity and then show, that even tho they have all this knowledge, they don’t do anything about it either. They talk but don’t act. They don’t show the way but only point out that something really has to change. I’m really afraid for my dad. And I’m really afraid for a humanity that faces such struggles but only ever searches to distract themselves from it to not fall into a hole of depression. What this world needs is an actual approach to bring change. We need to unify instead of fight each other about politics and beliefs which are created by a medium that wants us to consume without thinking much. There is a chance of change but it won’t come from those sitting at the top earning their money. It needs people like us who know what’s going on and then are willing to change it through coordinated action.

06.06.2025, 2:47 nachmittags - unter dem Haufen aus Steinen liegend

Die Natur lebt und bebt und belebt mich zum weitergehen. Davor esse ich die letzten Nüsse, die ich bei mir hatte und das letzte Fladenbrot. Mit keiner Nahrung im Gepäck mache ich mich kurzerhand später auf den Weg.

Was ich heute geschrieben habe, zusätzlich zum vergangenen Tagesverlauf, ist ein Text mit dem Namen ‘Vision Grande’. Der Text soll die Richtung deuten, da wir ja nicht vorhaben nur zu schreiben, sondern eben zu verändern was in dem Rahmen der aller höchsten Möglichkeiten liegt. Zwar bin ich grade knietief in der Reise meines Lebens vertieft, aber alles soll aufbauen zu jenem dort beschriebenen Punkt. Das Änderung kommt, ist unumgänglich. Dafür läuft alles schief genug. Ob sie rechtzeitig beginnt, liegt an uns. Ich bemühe mich schon mal im Voraus die kleinen elementaren Steine ins Rollen zu bringen und ich lade dich herzlich ein mitzurollen. Einfach weil Rumrollen und Veränderungen großen Spaß machen, wenn man dadurch endlich Hoffnung schöpfen darf!