Category Archives: Journey to Nowhere

Log of a motorbike journey to Nowhere

Return to Nowhere

Béhasque, Sauveterre de Béarn, Jaureguia… These prehistorical nuances and mountain echoes  in these place names sound quite familiar to me: I am in the French side of the Basque country, a region that I find to be both similar and … Continue reading

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Chiaroscuros of France

Today, October tenth, two of my siblings will be celebrating their birthdays two thousand kilometres southwest of here. To that course, the weather forecast this part of France is not too good; it’s raining now, in fact; therefore I’m altering … Continue reading

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Happenstances to change lives

One hundred and seventy years after Nietzsche was born, Rosaura and me arrive to Naumburg (in the German state of Saxony-Anhalt), hometown to the student who would later become the most important philosopher of 19th century. In those times, Naumburg … Continue reading

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A meeting with magic

Three days in Bialystok bring me new acquaintances (like Maka, the young Georgian volunteer, or Grzegorz, the bat researcher) and an unexpected meeting with homeopathy. It’s a farm in the countryside, ten minutes by motorbike from Tykocin, where Beata, a … Continue reading

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Upon the trodden track

Here and there, through the layer of clouds, a few sun beams shine on the land, cheering up the countryside. Behind me, noise of passing cars and lorries. I’ve pulled to the shoulder for a moment, right after leaving behind … Continue reading

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Bikers’ avatars: along Troms’ enchanting seaboard

Almost three hundred kilometres on my motorcycle from Alta to Tromso make for –by far– the longest stage during the past eighty days journeying to Nowhere; and also one of the most stunning. Not the case of Talvik, though, which … Continue reading

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Olderfjord, gate to Cape North

Porsanger is the westernmost and best known of Finnmark’s big peninsulas, as it harbours the very famous Nordkapp (Cape North), allegedly the northernmost tip of Europe, though actual things are a bit different: first off, it is not on the mainland, but … Continue reading

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Borselv, a campsite on the taiga

It’s a cold grey August morning in Finnmark when I pack my things that lay spread out in my room at Nordkyn hotel, go to the backyard and load the luggage on my motorcycle. The wind swirls in the parking lot … Continue reading

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