Sure, in 2022 I would like to tackle the second part of my circumnavigation of Europe. But now, in November 2021, everything is somehow open, unpredictable: A phantom called Corona continues to run riot in Europe, with disastrous consequences for our political culture – and I expose myself again (with probability calculations and articles), and get to feel the division of our society first hand, even in the circle of my family.
No, ‘vaccination’ still makes no sense, boosters even less; the cost-benefit calculation may work for people over 80, but certainly not for younger ones. That’s why I shied away from the risk of an injection and didn’t go along with the hype, and now, after a year, after almost everyone has done ‘it’, there’s no reason for me to keel over.
I crossed 25 national borders with the ArgoFram in the middle of the hot Corona war and noticed that, especially on the periphery of Western Europe, the theatre of governments was never really taken seriously. Like ‘mountain people’ here in Switzerland, the remote coastal inhabitants defy everything that comes from political headquarters. – Those who go out on the water have to make up their own minds; every trip is a balancing act between the prospect of making money and getting stuck (and dying) in the tide. Those who rely exclusively on weather apps and the opinions of ‘experts’ lose their sense of reality and act irresponsibly. The many monuments and memorials erected in coastal villages from north to south are a brutal reminder of this truism.
There was probably something reactionary about my behaviour in the midst of this testing pandemic; unable on my own to counter this ‘new normal’, this tidal wave of propaganda, with anything impactful, I ‘went underground’ and did my own thing. I would rather concentrate my energies for something, for my own project, than to be worn down ‘against it’. – Meeting people on the periphery of Europe, where personal responsibility comes naturally, was beneficial and liberating.
Nevertheless, I am now weakening; I seem to be in poor health. A strange cough has accompanied me since I entered the Rhone. Am I worn out? – In addition, a long awaited prostate operation is performed – thanks to my creative surgeon, the operation succeeds, hurray!
To let the scar tissue in my lower abdomen heal properly, I should not move… So I hang around, and apart from extended walks, my body remains inactive. I promptly catch a bad respiratory infection (Sars-CoV-2 is diagnosed, but what does that mean), followed by a persistent pneumonia. I’m lying flat. (Good for my bladder; just never lose your sense of humour…).
In January 2022, I pick myself up again and launch a stringent programme to rebuild. I start with breathing and movement exercises, cycling, light weight training and finally hammer throwing again. I reduce myself to my body; I don’t like to write at all (except for notes on this blog), and no other activity. I am selectively lazy.
My strength is coming back – it is obvious that this circumnavigation of Western Europe had drained me more than I wanted to admit. But now my spirits are rising again. What I want now is sun, real sun and warmth, and I want to do something outside. I decide to book a flight to Mexico City. The country is open and doesn’t stress about Corona, so let’s go. Sun, high altitude air and social life, what a treat. I dive in and whiz through this incredibly expansive metropolis on a rented bike, take excursions to historical sites and explore the markets, museums and culinary sides of this megacity.
I continue on to Merida in the Yucatan. I rent a bike again, ride to and along the north coast, visit various Mayan cult sites in the centre of this peninsula and enjoy the incredible temperatures, the formative sun and the simple but delicious food. Every day I do a set of physical exercises, jumps, push-ups, pull-ups, simple but highly effective. – Finally I reach Tulum (and am shocked by the overflowing US tourism influence that stretches from here up to Cancun) and immediately retreat to the island of Cozumel. Again I rent a bike and ride extensive routes in the morning and evening hours. I also do my exercises in the garden of my hotel, also in the morning and in the evening, so I don’t increase the intensity, but ‘just’ expand the scope. Soon I am back at my normal weight.
Then the miracle happens: I want to experience the sea! I go to a sports shop to rent snorkelling equipment, I want to look around underwater near the coast… And what happens? I get in touch with diving instructors, check out various diving schools, and book a basic course! Anxiously, I repeat the basic exercises in the hotel pool, taking off the mouthpiece, opening and blowing out the goggles, changing the tank underwater and all that stuff. Until I feel ready to go into the sea.
I plop into the waters at an offshore reef, drift down a few metres, discover a mighty water turtle next to colourful fish – and follow it to a depth of 12 metres (under the watchful eye of my instructor). Wow!
A new world opens up to me; can water really become a friend? – Well, we don’t want to go that far…, but why not?
Over the next few days, we do additional exercises during our dives, try out different ascent options, and I study theory so that I can pass my certification. After a week I’m ready, surprised at myself the most. And grateful: dared – won.
I return in March, and towards the end of the season I even go to the mountains (to ski). It’s familiar, does me good. Then spring comes, everything sprouts, and I attend selected, extravagant to exuberant parties, enter new territory with social experiments in this area as well – am I still becoming a hedonist at an advanced age?
It’s unbelievable how well I’m doing again. – I am ready to return to the ArgoFram, to start the next stage of my circumnavigation.