This is the story about a Portuguese psychologist who was working in Birmingham… till he decided to drop it all and hit the road.
That travelling bug people speak about had been living inside me… but doing its own thing, sewing sweaters, eating candy bars, watching tv. Till I took it to India and it felt ignited in such a way it was impossible to ignore.
It can be considered foolish for anyone to quit a nice job, even more to a Portuguese guy that works as a psychologist, one of the jobs with highest unemployment rates back home. But a man's gotta go. So a man went.
What Happened When Away?
I was in Syria days before the revolution began;
I spent 1 week in Iraq with no money;
I spent 11 days in Iran with 35$;
I was 2km away from Bin Laden 12 hours before he was shot in Pakistan (assuming what they say is true);
I was arrested in Croatia;
I spent over 100 nights Couchsurfing;
I was arrested and spent 36 hours in jail in Laos (worst experience of my LIFE)
I went to the Full Moon Party in Thailand;
I tubed in Laos;
I crossed the whole of china hitchhiking;
I crossed Siberia on the legendary Trans-Siberian Train;
I spent a week in the Gobi Desert in Mongolia;
I hitchhiked for 20.000km;
I spent 3300€ in 9 months and a half (insurance, camera, visas, you know… everything);
… and so much more!
[You DO NOT have to buy the book to attend]
«In January 2011 I left. I stretched myself, opened my arms and my heart and hugged a few dreams that had been lost, between momentous inspirations or laughter with no evil. I wanted to do something extraordinary, I wanted to meet people that weren't like me, I wanted to surrender to the effort of living with little money and various smiles. The other corner of the Eurasian continent, as far as the moon, lured me and offered me a rug made of asphalt, train-tracks and niceties. Whether with my thumb stretched out on the side of the road or a ticket in my hand, I dived in. I laughed, I cried, I loved, I fell into despair, I died and was born again, more myself and more of the world. When I arrived the wings I'd gained were too big and wouldn't fit the sky, so I took to the road again.
I went, and I came back. From here all the way over there, with fifty thousand kilometres tattooed on my soul.
And this is my story.»