We resigned from our job and set off on a journey around the world, walking from Europe to Asia to Australia to South America, with 4 euros per diem.
Julien, walking since the 15th of July, 2011.
Sophie, walking since the 13th of June, 2012.

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    1. Profession: Street Artist

      July 27, 2013

      While Julien is looking around for an affordable lunch – we still are along the “Resorticly Expensive Bulgarian Black Sea Coast” – I sit on a bench and get my didgeridoo out. I made it from scratch out of plastic tubes a few weeks ago. Its sound is amazing! Back in Paris, I used to have an Australian, wooden model I played while meditating. Since I am now a nomad, I built a light one with a deep, powerful sound that calms me down while the circular breathing needed for the performance litteraly takes me high.

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    2. Off-Road Adventure?

      July 24, 2013

      7 o'clock. Julien has left one hour ago and followed the beach. Because of my recent tendinitis, it is wiser for me to skip a 40km sandy, rocky beach with no water point. And as I don't want to take the pleasure of a walk along the beach away from Julien, I choose to go by the road by myself.

      This is my first day walking alone. Here I stand, climbing a hill on those crappy gravels, you know, the kind that punctures exactly where blisters already hurt, under the little toe. But up there, an incredible panorama awaits me, I know it. As I am thinking of how each step I walk takes me closer to my destination, to water and a well-deserved rest, I suddenly reach the top of the winding track. The sea, 320°-round, gets a smile out of me, while far away, I see blue mountains making up natural border with Turkey.

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    3. Entering the Bulgarian Touristic Hell

      July 23, 2013

      Said theme park just emerged out of a rock like a concrete monster. The place is huge. The 12-store high buildings makes us stand in shock, sticking out where we would have expected a lagoon bordering a quiet forest. Clearly, none of those things have any business here. Or maybe they do: they host a crew in scarlet-red livery guiding tourists from the beach (€5 for half a day) to the spa or to a coffee shop (€2 an espresso). Unless they have to go to the restroom and drop €1. I whisper to Sophie:

      “If hell exists, I believe it looks like that”.

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    4. One Day in Summer Bulgaria

      July 18, 2013

      We follow the track through the bushes along the beach, walking around the numerous tents and caravans of Bulgarian people come here for a quiet break in a busy life. Every now and then, we surprise a camper, barely awoken, making himself a coffee or coming back from a morning swim. After half an hour, we eventually leave the last vacationer behind. At this point, the vegetation turns into a cliff. We are now alone on the sand strip, stuck in between water and rock.

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    5. Breaking the Break, part 2

      June 4, 2013

      Relying on luck, I should know better now. But, no, I am stubborn and I dive into the darkest night for 5 kilometers of road. So dark actually, I cannot even see the fields on the sides of the road. At least, if the clouds only hide the moon and the stars, I will be lucky. The first raindrops call me to order: no, I am not lucky. I am one of those people who plan to leave in July, yet are struck by a snow storm three days into their trip.

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    6. Breaking the Break

      June 3, 2013

      I am sitting at a terrace, nearby the stream that cools the town park and gives it a joyful sound of flowing water. Everything is quiet. Sophie's words still echo in my mind: I feel at home because everything feels familiar, from the environment to the people. In this very moment, as Middle East and its promises are almost at hand, I feel the inner turmoil, stronger than ever. A part of me already misses its home. Its home in the Balkans.

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    7. Walker's Thoughts on Hitchhiking

      April 25, 2013

      I am not a hitchhiker. Everything is too fast: farewells are made before greetings and encounters are but a blink, barely interrupting the wait along the burning road. Yet the worst part is that out of the thousands of hills and villages, out of those thousands of lives we come across in our rolling rush, we shall remember nothing but the unending road, its tolls and gas stations looking the same and smelling the same all along. I feel choked, boxed in this narrow grey hell and its everlasting uniformity. Nothing seems to stand out here but the occasional roadsigns telling stories of forbidden heavens.

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    8. Goats Retreat

      April 22, 2013

      “Where are we going?”
      Despite a full night in the small Greek town where we got yesterday evening, our final destination remains a mystery to Sophie. I managed to keep the suspense alive until this morning and it is now time to unveil my plan. We turn right at a round-about, taking a narrow street heading downwards.

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    9. We Will Be Back, Asia

      April 16, 2013

      This feeling has been haunting me ever since we stopped two months ago, like an uncompleted concerto would relentlessly haunt a composer with its rythms, letting him no rest until his quill eventually tamed it onto paper. I so hear the melodies of Middle East, but I must first complete what I have started, the Balkans and the Slavic block. Only then shall the framework evolve and the time of Asia come back. For now, the Bosphorus slips away behind two buildings as the tram dives into the European half of Istanbul.

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    10. Istanbul As an Insider

      April 13, 2013

      We live somewhere in the middle of the swarm, in a quiet residential area about 25 minutes from the seaside, for two months. We put this time to good use, working on this very website, hosting friends and family, and exploring the city. I mean, everything as much as we can, not only touristic areas. I am really surprised, by the way, to realize how tourists seldom leave the two touristic districts. This surprise fades away, though, when I get my hand on a travel guide and see that the whole Asian half of the city is not even drawn on the map.

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    11. Settling Down In Istanbul

      Feb. 13, 2013

      What is wrong this time? The first landlord had changed his mind and was not renting anymore. Second one had a very suspicious story about catching up unpaid bills which “of course I will refund you on your first rents”. The third guy would not rent out to foreigners. A bit odd but as the saying goes, his flat, his rules.
      “He doesn't wanna rent to a couple without a child”.

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