Already three years have passed since the last time life allowed me to brandish my blue passport. This life often places us face to face with a dilemma, thus asking us to choose between the human wealth that a trip can bring us and the logical choice that seems to be the most beneficial in the long term in terms of social security. I found myself in this situation for thirty-six months less where I spent academic sessions at practical placements when I entered the labor market. Three interminable years during which I hoped to find the strength to pass through my amorous rupture without having to wait until my next escape.
I tried three times to temporarily leave my Montreal life to the unknown, alone, in order to mark a true temporal separation between the past and my emotional rebirth. In vain, I always had a good reason to postpone my journey until later, rolling myself in the same dust, residues of an apotheosis that now exists only on postcards and fragile memories, vestiges of my sorrows that once made me smile. I then resigned myself to put away my dear 50-liter backpack to the benefit of life choices aiming to offer me a better future.
Having embraced the idea of loneliness, the bachelor that I am finally woke up from his coma in love, after three years of total abstinence from the pleasure of travel by saying to me: "Has it been that long ...? ". The reminiscences of the wonders that have so often arisen before my eyes have therefore sprung from the deepest recesses of my memories to remind me cruelly that life passes far too rapidly before our eyes. It is high time to reconnect with my loves and flirt every day and as often as possible with the sinuous curves of the letters forming the writing of the maxim Carpe Diem.
I hesitated for a long time to go as far as possible, among the Maoists, in order to experience the most total change of scene. This trip has not yet taken place. One morning, a friend told me about a conversation on the web, proposing to join a group of friends who wish to go on a surf trip to Nicaragua. We do not often have the opportunity to travel with two of her best friends, especially since I do not know anything about this Central American country. No need to look any further. The "Yes Man" that I have been striving to become for several months to spring from this dusty crypt had already taken a stand. It's perfect, I'm going! So I took out my backpack of the highest tablet in my wardrobe and decided to go to a destination which I must admit was not part of the list of my next trips to make. It took me a fraction of a second to remember that what counted was the journey and not the destination. And who knows! Perhaps behind this door locked by my bitter trienal thoughts would I find a sunny oasis that will mark the beginning of a new era dominated by the lightness of heart and mind that the Pura Vida proposes?
PS: ... todo esta diacachimba!