lunedì 17 agosto 2015

C⊙L⊙RS / Un'ultima botta e via

Premessa. Va detto che visitare una città con un piede che ad ogni passo ti fa assaporare il dolore di una buona dozzina di gironi infernali di dantesca memoria non é proprio il massimo. Piogge di Madonne. Oltre al dolore fisico c'era quello dell'anima... un viaggio che stava arrivando gentilmente al termine. Disperazione. Inoltre arriva dopo le visite entusiastiche di Bangkok, Hanoi e Singapore. Impossibile far meglio. Detto questo, a voler essere estremamente gentili, Kuala Lumpur aka KL non ha infiammato il mio entusiasmo. Per nulla. Comunque mi ha regalato qualche spunto. Buon cibo indiano e malese a prezzi stracciati. Soprattutto indiano. Un dormitorio riempito a dovere di shorts e canottierine. Libido calmati! Acqua fredda. Un ultimo cocktail in mezzo alle nuvole con vista mozzafiato. Finalmente un buon collegamento wifi. Utile. Necessario. Fondamentale. Della vera aria condizionata in hotel. Toccasana in queste torride giornate malesi. Le Petronas Twin Towers sono bellissime. Soprattutto in versione notturna. Spettacolo. Un bell'incontro nell'ultima giornata. That's it! Non é poco... ma neanche sufficiente per farmela amare. Pur ripetendo che dovevo, infortunio permettendo, visitarla di più. Kuala Lumpur puoi fare di meglio. Molto. E forse anch'io.

P.S.: scusate... molto corto anche perché le costine sono in tavola. Ci sono costine e costine. Poi quelle del mio babbo. 

Consiglio barbuto: eat drink sleep repeat... magari non zoppo. 

Backpack and Beard... Kuala Lumpur, Indonesia... Stay tuned!

Io no...
Jalan Petaling aka Chinatown
Petronas Twin Tower


KL Tower



Central Market
Little India's flavours
Er Porchettaro (di Nan però)




N.d.R. Mamma butta la pasta

Mamma: "Allora tra poco ci vedremo..."
Io: "Beh... sì, ormai ho preso il biglietto di ritorno. Purtroppo."
Mamma: "Paolo... mica te ne puoi stare in vacanza tutta la vita."
Io: "Magari... mamma... magari..." (lungo sospiro di vera sofferenza)
Mamma: "Vabbé... A proposito cosa vuoi che ti preparo da mangiare?"
Io: "Mah... un'idea ce l'avrei pure..."

Backpack and Beard... Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia... Stay tuned!

#tbt #archiviofacebook #vogliadipasta #tappo

domenica 16 agosto 2015

The Indonesian's alphabet

A for Austria
A for Austria? What? It's a strange way to begin a tribute to Indonesia. But we have to speak about the Thomas&Thomas. It was a so incredible pleasure to spend time with this duo from Vienna. Jogja, Sanur and Uluwatu. Tommy and his moon. Tom and the 12'673 questions at the cooking class. Unfortunately everyone can remember only one thing about these guys... the unecessary Austrian's Dance at the Banana. Why Tom? Why Tommy? Why Thomas&Thomas? Why?
B for Banana Café
Yann: "Sorry, it's possible to play CoCo of O.T. Genasis?" The beginning of the end. One of my favourite night in Indonesia. Of my entire trip. The recipe? Large Bintang, some selfies, good rap and pop music, an incredible staff and some good new friends. Yes Gary... I speak about you. Where? Banana Café, of course. I'm in Jogja, Bitch! Bakin' soda, I got bakin' soda!
C for Can I take a picture with you, Mister?
1. Yes / No
2. Where are you from?
3. Where do you go?
4. Are you married?
5. Can I take a picture with you, Mister?
These are the english basics in Indonesia. The minimum. Because the level is quite high in the cities and also in the touristic places. Anyway... Can I take a picture, Mister? Everywhere. Everytime. Feel like a football (soccer for american, ndr) star or a famous actor. After 2'356'890 pictures in two months it's quite hard to go back to the anonymity. Why at the Malpensa's airport nobody want a picture with me? Why? Feel like Cristiano (EU). Feel like Lebron (USA).
D for Daiquiri
Daiquiri in Indonesia? Why not! Sunday Session. Single Fin. Uluwatu. Bali. The place to be. Everything is perfect... but you can have a problem when you decide to leave to the beautiful Jordan from New Orleans, Lousiana the decision on what you will drink during the party. A really good mix (sarcasm). A huge Daiquiri, Gin Tonic, some beers, an awful pizza ("you too drunk", thanks mom) and a horrible tequila shot! Beautiful people, stunning view and sunset, incredible location, finally good music and the pleasure to see again my friend and beerpong teammate (nominated for the best team of Laos Championship 2014/15) Rick after our adventures in Ving Vang... Vieng Ving... Vieng Vang... ahhh... Vang Vieng. Laos.
F for Fals
Imagine. You're at the airport of Milan. It's the 9th of February. It's cold outside. You're stressed. You have to begin an incredible trip for some months in Asia. Someone stop you and say: "in five months you will be in karaoke bar in the middle of nowhere. The place will be full of drunk old guys and some prostitutes. The head of the village will love to touch your knee. Several times. The friends sitting at your table will be a teacher named Buyon knew few hours before in the middle of a street and a superbe american girl, that you will love, wearing one of your worst t-shirt (MD green and yellow, ndr) and singing Celine Dion. Titanic. You'll decide to sing a song. English? Too easy. In Indonesian, of course. Bongkar of the indonesian legend Iwan Fals." Impossible? Not really... O O Yao Yao Ya Bongkar!
G for Gado Gado
Gado Gado is only one of the incredibles dishes that you can eat in Indonesia. Sate Ayam, Mie Goreng, Nasi Goreng, Soto, Bubur Mengguh, Rendang, Cendol,... Cheap fresh fish. Barracuda BBQ with garlic butter my favourite. That's fuckin' delicious! But be careful of one thing... pedas (spicy in indonesian) sambal (the type of sauce). A sauce that can destroy all your internal organs. Especially in Lombok. The Spicy Island.
H for Hello Mister!
Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Hello Mister! Please stop! Please...
I for Islands
More than 13'000 islands (17'000 for Zeno and Tom's Lonely Planet) and two of them forever in my heart. Gili Air and his perfect romantic and chillin atmosphere. Nusa Lembongan aka Jordan's Island with the incredibles beaches and an unforgettable first kiss. True love. Unfortunately know also for the Scooby Doo's murales and the worst Long Island Ice Tea ever. Three... Local! But that is an other story.
J for Jordan Serene Kruse
I can do an entire alphabet only about the incredibles adventures that we had together. Scooby Doo, karaoke, rats, drunk nights, strawberry's taste, muslim doctor, i'm sorry, three local, illness, credit card, lion air, flores yes flores no, lazy days, Bromo (ah no!), Kawa Ijen (ah no!), Rinjani (ah no!), airport sadness, scooter's lessons, tequila and pizza, loop, chillin, anniversary, hook up, garage, massage, meditation, anniversary, tyra banks, buongiornopaolotiamo, Hitler told me, eat a pizza, eight hours shopping, coffee shop in Ubud, tannedlines (with my perfect pronunciation), the most little ice cream ever, kisses, hugs, snuggle, other things, goodbye, Mandiri Bank... too much! It was really an incredible gift to know a so interesting person... to spend time with a so incredible women... to felt in love with a so amazing girl. In love with Jordan for the second time of my life. In 1992 with Michael Jeffrey Jordan. Barcelona. In 2015, 23 years later, with Jordan Serene Kruse. Indonesia. What I can say... I love you! So easy. So complicate.
K for Kuta Lombok
Third place Chang Khong, Thailand... Second place Vang Vieng, Laos... and the Oscar for "the place where I spent more nights during my trip and I don't know understand why" goes to... Kuta, Lombok, Indonesia. Seriously for me is the perfect location. Kuta have all I need. Beautiful beaches not crowded at all, perfect streets, two supermarkets, thr best fried chicken with garlic sauce, some shops with touristic stuff, good and cheap accomodations, good mix of local surfers and tourists, a lot of different kind of restaurants (local food, fresh fish bbq, sushi and also wooden pizza... the burrito maybe isn't a good idea), no McDonalds or KFC, some ATM, a very gentle and muslim's doctor, some bars direct on the beach if you want to drink a large Bintang and dance a little bit,... honestly just perfect. If I could change something? I prefer to see children play football and not on the streets selling bracelets. And a Mandiri Bank directly in town. Praya is too far (see letter P, ndr).
L for Lazy Monkey Homestay
An idea more than a project. The idea to escape from Europe to Indonesia. The version 2.0 of the classic dream "I leave everything and I open a bar on a beach". Try to open something like an homestay and live the impossible dream to really enjoy life. Taxes, insurances, traffic and Norman (too complicate to explain, ndr) were only a horrible nightmare. Someone during this trip told me: "the only luxury I have here in Indonesia is to don't have a clock alarm every morning. It's enough". Andreas, german, two kids, five bungalow and since 28 years in Indonesia. Sitting on a chair drinking beer. Chapeau.
M for Muezzin
I don't have any problem with Islam or Muslims. Ramadan or burqa. Really. See my beard. But... we have this big problem with the ego of some muezzin. I can understand that they have to call the people for the pray. Why you don't use a simple clock alarm? Everyone in Indonesia have a phone. The pray is at 5am? No problem. You put the clock alarm at 4:15am. You have all the time to wash your feet, take your little carpet and go to the mosque. Easy, no? Maybe to progressive? Ok, keep it traditional. But it still a question. THE question. It's really necessary (during the Ramadan and not) to scream like a scandinavian death metal singer? During the night? For one hour? Also two hours (Gili T, ndr). Two hour?! Are you fucking serious?! Thanks Zeno to ask for me. I have to sleep! Assalamu Alykum, bro! Keep calm and continue to scream.
N for No plans, please
Myanmar, Thailand, Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia. Four months. That's it. Indonesia was not planned. I saw the map of this country three weeks before I thought the decision to came here. My first reaction? Two in reality... it's so fucking big and it's really Australia there? What? So close? I continued the trip without a real plan and without a guidebook. Indonesia was for me Bali. And Jakarta. Hometown of a good friend, Tiago. That's it! So I decide to follow the vibes and the people that I met during my trip. Especially one. So no Bromo... no Kawa Ijen... no Rinjani... but Nusa Lembongan, Gili Air, Pantai Pink, Soutwest Peninsula, Sonkongkang,... Sometimes don't have a plan is the best plan. 
O for Oskar
Incredible person. Incredible owner. If you have to go to Jogjakarta or Yogyakarta (someone have to decide how to spell the name of this city) there is only one place to stay and it's OstiC House. Largest beds ever, best breakfast ever, best staff ever,... I don't want to speak about the place but the man. Oskar helped me to book a flight, every night we went together to eat something local, he organized some visits,... Ok! The choice of a Jumbo Dawen (?!) like dessert was not incredible. Disgusting! The most important is that you have the impression to be in a family more than an hostel. Thanks Oskar!
P for Praya
"Hey, I'm Swiss... I know how have to work a bank in this kind of situation! I stay here till we don't know where is the fucking card!"
(Cit. an arrogant P.Ravasi during the second visit at the Mandiri Bank, Praya)
R for Rinjani
Rick (an other important R of my trip), Zeno and Tom. 23, 18 and 17 years old. For everyone of this sporty guys, the Rinjani's trekking, was one of the most difficult and extreme experience of their young life. Rinjani is a Volcano. A big one. Three days. Two nights. From the hot to the cold. From the sea to the top. You don't sleep... you walk! So why a non sporty, old and fat guy have to do that? Why? It's a mountain! I come from Switzerland! Don't hike... Don't surf... Don't dive... Don't give a shit!
S for Surf
Selong Belanak: small waves, longboard, clear and not deep water, no currents and many tourists. Surf is Fun!
YoYo's beach: huge waves, small surfboard, black and deep water, two strong currents and only really good surfers (...and Zeno, ndr). Surf is not fun. It's dangerous. But really not fun!
T for Too much!
Emotions? Too much! Coco? Too much! Scenarios? Too much? Hospitality? Too much! Pictures? Too much! Love? Too much! People? Too much! Friends? Too much! Vibes? Too much! Feelings? Too much! Beaches? Too much! Sunsets? Too much! Sea? Too much! Countryside? Too much! Activities? Too much! Adventures? Too much! Relationship? Too much! Beauty? Too much! Smiles? Too much! Streets? Too much! Homestays? Too much! Karaoke? Too much! Anniversary? Too much! Bintang? Too much! Food? Too much! Single Fin? Too much! Kisses? Too much! Hugs? Too much! Snuggle? Too much! Snorkelling? Too much! Surf? Too much! Jogjakarta? Too much! Uluwatu? Too much! Sonkongkang? Too much! Gili's Islands? Too much! Nusa Lebongan? Too much! Kuta? Too much! Definitely... Indonesia is too much! In a good way, of course.
U for Uluwatu
You can't forget your first love. Uluwatu is my first Indonesian love. Uluwatu not Sanur, dear Yann. I really loved my first visit. Maybe the Thomas&Thomas not so much. Stop, Police! The money, please. How much? Everything. Thanks and have a nice day. For me was different. First time behind on a scooter. Teaching how to drive without a driver license but to an incredible talented student. Ok, maybe with some problems with the U Turn. But it was the first time. Good job. First time ever. Anyway. First time I thought "Now I understand why people take an airplane for more than 12 hours to come here..." Uluwatu is my first love. Uluwatu is a Paradise. Uluwatu is my hometown. My indonesian's roots. Big Love. U U Uluwatu!
V for Virta, Gary, Rino, Randy, Ricky, Oskar and the others
Virta and my second coffee till 1999. Gary and the selfies at the Banana Café. Rino and his beautiful smile. Randy and his incredible hospitality. Ricky and his sweet pinapple. Oskar and his kindness. And also all the people that I don't remember the name. Someone call them simply the locals. For me they are the people that made this trip incredibly easy to live. Always a smile. Always a word. Always ready to help. I can't find the words to say how much this people were important for my trip. All the people that stop me for a picture, to speak with me or to invite me to eat something at home. It was so different. So nice. So full of humanity.
W for Wow!
Wow, you see the beach! Wow, the barracuda in this restaurant taste so good! Wow, you see the dolphins! Wow, the shower's view here in Gili Air is amazing (not only for the palm trees, ndr)! Wow, it's so cheap to stay here at the Palm Tree Garden! Wow, this Boromodur's temple is so huge ("probably the most huge, hindu and tallest ever." Cit. Y.M.)! Wow, there aren't other tourists at the Mawan Beach! Wow, this pineapple is so sweet Rino! Wow, the reef is so colourful! Wow, the sunset from Dreamland beach is amazing! Wow, Ubud is so... no! For Ubud no wow! Wow, your smile is so beautiful! Wow, the people are so nice here in the country side! Wow, surf is fun in Selong Belanak. Wow, surf isn't fun in YoYo's big waves. Definitely not. Wow, that &€£¥$#@ was $£€¥@#$ insane! Wow, Sonkongkang's homestays are so beautiful! Wow, he's Sensei Myagi! Wow, this Mahi Mahi tartare is unbelievable. Chef Anton. Wow, you eat an other chicken parmigiana! Wow, Wow, Wow, Wow and Wow!
X for Xylophone
Xylophone? I don't have any other good idea for the letter X. Ah! Maybe XoXo? Learned in an useless English class of teacher Kruse? Ok, the practical example wasn't so bad. Definitely not.
Y for YOLO
After XoXo we have also YOLO. You only live once! True story... To remember every day of your life.
Z for Zeno und Tom
What you can do to feel young again? Easy! You can decide to spend time with two 18 years old Germans from Berlin. Zeno aka the Amazing (correct Zeno?) aka DJ Lawrenz. Tom aka Tom aka Tom. Ahhh... no! Aka Kapitan Karisma! And ok... Tom still 17. Exactly the half of my age. You can burp in public, fart everywhere, scream H to the S, sing Eins Zwei Polizei, make an illegal race in a airport, play all days Ticket to ride, jump on a river, sleep till 11am, buy stickers of the Transformers for "our" scooters, eat like a pig two burgers (or chicken parmigiana, ndr) and drink a bottle of Bacardi in the middle of nowhere. Call it freedom. Or ignorance. To be more serious, Zeno and Tom, are only the last example that the young generations are not so bad like the newspapers tell us. They work, they study, they travel, they read, they try to be informed,... Probably they save the last ten days of my trip. I was really in a bad mood on the bus to Sumbawa. Really bad. So demotivated. The head was to New Orleans. The classic local bus full of people and only two foreigners. Zeno und Tom. Tom und Zeno. So... Hey oh! Let's fez, guys!

Terima Kasih, Indonesia. Sempai giumpa!

Backpacker and Beard... Long the way, Indonesia... Stay tuned!

Aku cinta kamu, Indonesia

martedì 11 agosto 2015

Due paginette

Lonely Planet. Versione inglese. Edizione 2013. Ci parla della regione occidentale dell'isola di Sumbawa. Regione che comprende le varie Poto Tano, Taliwang, Maluk, Rantung e Sekongkang. Da pagina 338 a pagina 339. Qualche spiaggia, quattro alloggi e due ristoranti. Fatto. Il compitino. Due misere pagine. Per la verità neanche due. Sumbawa appunto. Un'isola che non é propriamente sperduta nel nulla di un mare remoto. Si situa tra la turistica Lombok e la visitatissima, per i suoi famosi abitanti a quattro zampe, Komodo. Per la verità non é neanche particolarmente piccola. Anzi. Viene tacciata come l'isola conosciuta per malaria, una mina che provoca dissapori tra popolazione locale e affituari e per il fatto di essere l'isola mussulmana per eccellenza. Come direbbero gli amici anglofoni: bullshit! Vi troverete spiagge deserte, magnifiche onde per i surfisti, il classico vulcano da scalare e un mucchio di tranquillità. Per certi prezzi troverete alloggi di grandissima qualità. Il cibo non costa nulla e riamane qualitativamente alto. Le moschee sono nettamente inferiori alla vicina Lombok. Che praticamente ha una moschea ogni tre credenti. Bambini ed infermi compresi. Quindi... Se ne parla poco un po' dappertutto. Io la zona che va da Taliwang a Sekongkang l'ho semplicemente adorata. Le strade non sono in condizioni spettacolari ma ci stanno lavorando. Sodo. Internet ricorda quello della mia gioventù. Napster e modem 56k. Ma é rimasta quella genuinità che forse in luoghi come Bali e Lombok si é un po' persa. Un plauso vorrei farlo anche agli stranieri, per la grande maggioranza australiani, che stanno comprando terra da queste parti. Nessun resort in contrasto con la natura presente ma un intellegentissima scelta di costruire poco, di qualità e lasciando libero il fronte mare. Applausi. Cosa aggiungere... organizzeremo la visita anche della costa orientale... prima o poi. Per voi qualche foto. Per giudicare e per ingolosirvi.

Consiglio barbuto: scooter, mappa, gesti, tedeschi, coca cola, preghierina,... girate a caso!

Backpack and Beard... Sekongkang, Indonesia... Stay tuned!

Goodbye Lombok
YoYo's
Sekongkang
Tropical Beach
Il Rinjani me lo guardo da qua
German tourists
Zeno und Tom
Scar Reef Beach
Tenuta incredibile 

SuperSuck... senza onde
Vista dalla stanza
I ❤ Jogja
Un tornado per non farsi mancare nulla
Modem 56k
Breggia


Forever Young

Ci sono attività che arrivati ad una certa età bisognerebbe avere l'intelligenza di evitare. Esagerato? Se siete uno di quelli che si dice "...e ma sono giovane dentro" é bene ricordarvi che al vostro corpo non gliene può fregare di meno. Giovincelli con l'artrite. E non importa che tu voglia dimostrare di essere ancora in grado di compiere sforzi come un dicciottenne qualsiasi. L'orgoglio non ti servirà a nulla in una cassa di faggio tre metri sotto terra. Eccone alcune elencate in ordine di pericolosità...

River jumping
Passi che sono cresciuto a qualche centinaia di metri da un fiume. Il mitico Breggia. Passi che un qualche tuffo da altezze considerevoli l'ho pure fatto durante la mia giovinezza. Passi pure che ho pure una certa dimistichezza con pozze e affini. Però questa é l'Indonesia. Mia la Vall da Mücc. Buttarsi in una pozza dove non si vede il fondo in mezzo alla jungla mediante corda appesa ad un albero... non l'idea più brillante! Ricordiamo di nuovo che non é il nostro bel Tesin. Lucertole e scorzoni. Qui tra chilometrici serpenti, lucertoloni carnivori e ragni grandi come galline non sai mai chi ti troverai accanto. E  soprattutto quando...

Surfing
Di per se la pratica del surf fatta con intelligenza non é pericolosa. Si comincia con qualche giorno con un maestro per poi affittare una tavola larga e spessa per provare da soli su piccole onde. Step by step. Iniziare su una piccola spiaggia con onde che non farebbero ingelosire quelle del Ceresio al passaggio del battello Lugano é una buona cosa. E lo si é fatto. Ok, senza maestro ma sembrava che la cosa funzionasse. Quasi noioso per dirla tutta. Ma... sarà che in quei giorni non stavo proprio benissimo... cosa mi sia preso ad alzarmi alle 7 di mattina e seguendo il giovane Zeno sfidare YoYo... beh, non lo so proprio! Ahhhh! Chi é YoYo? É semplicemente uno degli spot più incazzati che si possono trovare in Indonesia. Semplicemente. Qui ci vengono professionisti e non dalla vicina Australia e dal Sud Africa. E gente dalle Hawaii. Le surfisticamente cazzute Hawaii! Immaginate di trovarvi in mezzo al mare scuro come la pece, con due correnti che si contrastano violentemente e il tutto contornato da onde che sfiorano i tre metri. Il sentimento é un mix tra Cast Away e Open Water. 30 minuti a cercare di tornare a riva. Mai più!

P.S.: la foto chiaramente é di un altro giorno. Presa giusto per necessita di copione. Da notare la naturale eleganza del gesto.

Scooter racing
Eccoci all'attività che in una sola botta può regalarti galera, un handicap fisico grave e la morte. O la gloria. Come? Semplicissimo. Affitti uno scooter assolutamente non omologabile in 137 Paesi, ti fai accompagnare da due giovanissimi teutonici (Zeno and Tom) che ad idiozia ti stanno quantomeno a livello, aspetti che calino quasi completamente le tenebre, sfondi il cancello di un aeroporto non ancora inaugurato, preghi che la polizia non faccia il proprio mestiere, metti i due scooter sulla linea di partenza della pista d'atterraggio e... 3... 2... 1... A tutto gas! Senza casco e senza protezioni. Con infradito e con cappellino all'indietro. Lunga e diritta correva la strada. Il vento che si ostina a fronteggiarti. L'adrenalina che pompa nelle vene. L'idiozia al potere. Tutto di corsa. Tutto di fretta. Senza riflettere. Fast and Furious Sokongkhan.

Consiglio barbuto: ho 34 anni ma non dite niente alla mia mamma...

Backpack and Beard... Sokongkhan, Indonesia... Stay tuned!

Eleganza e grazia
Equilibrio e perseveranza
Rapidità e sangue freddo

venerdì 7 agosto 2015

C⊙L⊙RS / Hello Mister

I N C R E D I B I L E ! Sembrava imbattibile ed invece all'ultimo ecco il sorpasso che non ti aspetti. Non sto parlando di un sorpasso di Zeno (velocissimo sullo sterrato) su Tom (praticamente imbattibile sul cemento con il suo Capitan Karisma) o viceversa. La faccenda é assolutamente più seria. Di mezzo due Paesi. Il loro orgoglio. Il "hellobyebye" di vietnamita matrice sembrava imbattibile. Ripetuto dalla popolazione vietnamita ben 145'896 volte durante i vari loop. Città o campagna. "Hellobyebye" il grido di battaglia. Battuto in estremis... anzi annichilito con quasi un milione conteggiato. Vince... stravince l'indonesiano anzi sumbawano (o sumbaiota)"Helli Mister!" Per batterlo si é passati da qualsiasi posto, ospedali e cliniche comprese. Strade che non sono ancora strade. Proprio no. Splendide spiagge deserte. Saranno tutti sulla Riviera romagnola. Città completamente al di fuori dal circuito turistico. Il piacere d'incontrare il Sensei Myagi. Il dispiacere di soggiornare dal Sensei Myagi. Più una stalla che un hotel. La famiglia di Randi e la loro cordialissima ospitalità. Ad offrirci quello che in Svizzera ti costerebbe un braccio. Il famoso caffé cagato da un animale. Mah! Io per sicurezza ho preso un the. Caldo. Nero. Zuccherato. Insomma... il giro é il seguente... Sonkongkang... Lanyuk... Sumbawa Besar... Palau Moyo... qualche villaggio a caso... Taliwang... Sonkongkang, again. Quindi si parte, cari Tom and Zeno? Mmmmm... what's... hey oh... Pez? Fiz? Fritz? Mez? Let's go... No! Hey oh! Let's... I don't remember... ah yes! Hey Oh... let's fez!

Backpack and Beard... West Sumbawa, Indonesia... Stay tuned!

Ultime coccole
Tongo




Lunyuk





Randi's family
Pit stop
Eat local
Sumbawa Besar


Palau Moyo

There is a Star in Town

Twin Towers
Pulau Bungin

Waves and Wales Hotel
Chef Anton
Perfect
The Simons