This picture was taken by E., in Queenstown, NZ.
Back then, people would tell us, ‘the Storm is coming walk away’ and we’d walk right in.
A volcanoe erupts, fuck it, nothing can stop me.
Falling from a horse you get right back on it, carrying your overloaded backpack on your broken shoulder for the rest of the trip.
You get bitten by a poisonous spider in the middle of f** nowhere, don’t matter, keep walking.
The laundry product explodes in your backpack, don’t matter, just carry on.
You have no money, you’re freezing and hungry, you haven’t slept in your own bed for over 6 months, haven’t used a proper bathroom for longer than that, you wear the same clothes over and over, clothes that disapear one by one.
You have no clue what happens in the rest of the world, all that matters is what’s in front of you and who’s with you.
That is travelling, that is freedom.
I miss those days.