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Personal Stories, Random Roads

On the road to Odesa… and further on

Sooner that I could realize, the road caught us, flexible and free like a cat.

Its yellow eyes blinking and silently smiling followed us, meanwhile we where following the flow of the events.

Again and
again the magic of things revealed itself in any rides and in the simple beauty of our encounters. Angels and savers, monks and royals arrived to us. Speaking without language, skipping the barriers of words and indifference. The
embarrassment of the hugs at the end of each ride and the laughs of the non-understood are an exercise of mimic: training for gesture and instinct.

Un-pre-dic-ta-ble.
The road is life and it is a teacher.

When Shaun and I left Amsterdam on the 1st of August, we did know nothing. Nor
where, nor how. We had a destination, the dark of the Black sea waiting for us
at on the 7th: the 789 and the mystery behind this number.

5 days

4 countries (The Netherlands, Germany, Poland and Ukrain),

2500 kilometers

18 angels

1 postcard left and one sent to say thank you and to invite our drivers to the Casa.

Here our journey:

The way to Odessa

* Saturday,
1rst of August: Amsterdam to Potsdam

14.45-15.45:Waiting at the Amstel station of Amsterdam after hugging Stove

1-

15.45-19:00: Amsterdam- Gronegau

Our first ride with the orange Buddist Maarten, hisfriends, a goose and a cock-roll. His green van was our first bless, his generosity drove us 100 kms after the German border, way out of his destination. His enthusiasm picked up Stove, and
made us travel together for few rides. At the petrol station we had a free meal: three untouched plates left for us by the events.

2-

19:00-20:00 From Grogenau to Hannover, chatting with Pedra of wind-turbines;

3-
20:0-21:00 From Hannover to Braunscheweig
with Sacco.
Me speaking at the phone with an Italian born in Germany and missing an Italy that he doesn’t know. We leave Stove camping here.

4-
21:35-23.30 From Braunscheweig to Potsdam
, with a Polish family who teaches us basic essential hitchhiking phrases. Iac toiate. Barzo genkuie. Scepraze. She mozes mie podviest. Proscem.

We skip Berlin pre-meeting to camp under a tent, under a starred sky. We are too happy with the road and too excited with the journey to leave it. Tasting Pastamadre bread and German beer, with a smile we fall asleep.

*Sunday, 2nd
of August: Potsdam to Lublin

Waiting long long time for the perfect ride. Too many bags, too many granpa and granma on the back seats to have space for us: people seem to be sorry but this doesn’t help.

We shared out time with a other road-rider heading to Latvia. Shaun is in love. I wanna eat.

5-
13:25-02:30: from Postdam to Lublin
, Sharing stories, stopping to eat, driving her car, crossing her country, looking at the fields, sleeping a bit during a 3 hours ride, 740 kms with
Anna.

At the end of the day, next to the road, below the trees, under the storm, we listen to the rain: so laud and sweet and generous to Earth and to us that the drops not even touch our clothes nor our skin. Just a bless and a ninna nanna.


*Monday, 3rd
of August: Lublin to Lviv

6-
10:30-11:00 Lublin-Piaski:
Gregor wanted to pay for a bus ticket that we refused. Gregor’s eyes were enlightened by the idea of our adventure. His first hitchhiking contact, his shininess couldn’t help his innocence and the hunger of communication. Gregor is the reason why I love hitchhiking: his marveled expression, his reaction to our adventure, the trace we left behind makes me believe in the destiny of our encounters (karma?).

7,8,9,10,11-
12:00-13:15 from Piaski to Belzec,
right at the border of Ukraine. Here, we discover the “track-drivers solidarity chain” and the playful participation of them to our adventure: Piot and the Zulwowshi family (Marek, Magdalena and their 2 kids traveling on a track) are amused by our mission and happy to find us another ride, another ride, and another more. Traveling on the waves of the radio transmission, we fly next to the border, light and fast like the seeds in the wind. Just one more puff, blow for me.

12-
15:40-17:30: Belzec- Rava Ruska
(just across the border). walking is not allowed. We stop the first car passing by and we meet the Madras family. Broken English to communicate with father, mother and daughter coming from Poland to go to holiday in Ukraine. Sharing our dreams and our lived utopias, feeling the love between them. Telling us about our families, our past, present, and
I.don’t.wanna.know.the.future.It’s.gonna.be.perfect.anyway.I.wish.one.day.to.be.happy.and.full.of.love.as.you.

They offered us a full dinner, paying at the restaurant crazy money, while they were having a soup.I didn’t feel to leave them anymore.


13-

20:00:
Rava Ruska- Lviv.
On a zebra-covered-seats car. With a crazy girl and her friends. So difficult to explain “write me your address: I sent you a postcard from Odessa”. So rewarding when they get it. We arrive at night.

*Tuesday, 4th
of August

walking
walking

walking.

Unable to decide and to trust the road to Rainbow we wait for Robin and Tau to appear somewhere impossible to reach. And I am so disappointed with myself for having lost direction within myself, for not knowing what I wanted. The magic of the road is somewhere else today, but we still enjoy our time together. Reading, joking, attaching the big dwarf on my belt bag, sleeping on a soccer field, we realize to be the favorite meal of mosquitoes.
At least no boar shows up.

*Wednesday,
5th of August

14-

from the nowhere of Lviv ring to Lviv direction to Kiev.

We watch a death bird for a while. We are alive, with Bob Dylan as a music track for our thumbs. The driver of the little van is embarrassed by my hug at the end of the short ride.
Everyone needs a hug, but sometime they forget it.

15-

12:43-14:13 From Lviv to Bus’k.

No words again. A guy with blue eyes and a black spot next to his mouth pick us up, speeding through the roads, stopping to a restaurant and offering us an amazing lunch. No vodka, no… iacuiu. Yes, we are a bit crazy. Toc toc on our head. But what’s normality at the end of the day? Working for survive? Killing yourself for a career? I want to be Erasmus from Rotterdam here and applaud to the craziness of my soul. Before to let us go, this angel buys us a little angel each. A little doll of clay, gifted with wings and a smile. On her back we fly away.

16-
14:30-16:30
From Bus’k to Rivne.

Saved from the rain by a former royalty member driving a white Mercedes. Stopping here and there to show us the landscape. Playing Italian song to listen my non-intoned voice singing. He crosses Rivne to show us around, calling someone able to speak English to make sure we understood he was going to drop us on the right spot.

17-


17:00-20:20 Rivne- Kiev outskirt

Mikholau nods when I explain why we hitchhike. Spreading networks of trust. The randomness of the encounters. The
destiny becoming alive. New contacts made. Different levels of communication and understanding. He finds us the next ride to Odessa yelling from the window to another track driver.

18-

20:20-5:00 am of Thursday, 6th of August. Kiev to Odessa.

Full moon
here and there. On the road and on the mountains at Rainbow. The energy flows,the street leading and deciding for us. I sleep and I feel sad it’s already over.

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About mirtillosmile

The Open Nest is a collection of living utopias. Of dreams, observations, experiences reported by Mirtillosmile. Mainly focused on sustainability, intentional living, and travel, this blog also includes nonsense reflections about art and life. Mirtillosmile grew up in Italy, where she had her first approach with groups of people voluntarily gathering together to reach a goal through mutual exchange of experiences, theatrical skills and random abilities. Back in the summer 2001, while the protests at G8 in Genoa were reaching the pick, a group of early 20s students were acting on a small stage. Pollicino was being transformed in a theater story that mixed Zen spiritualism, storytelling, fantasy and the reality of war. In 2003 she had the first symptoms of nomadic syndrome meanwhile moving to Portugal. Since then, she lived in Wales, The Netherlands, and now in Brooklyn. Mirtillosmile main activities include observation, participation, sharing. She is a film-maker, a photographer, an archivist, and most of the time a normal human being.

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