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Woooh, it's been a long again...

Civilization, that's what has kept me at bay. Well, to be truthful, it's not just civilization, it is illness as well. Yes, I've been sick... After leaving Castro I got aware of this tension in my lower belly, understood I needed to drink a lot of water, and so I did, but then I started peeing blood and I knew things were not good. We were again and still days away from a doctor's reach and I took my pain with all the stoicism I could master. To reach a doctor that would prescribe me the necessary drugs to bring me back to health took us one week. Blessing with all my soul the to me anonym discoverer of penicillin I stuffed myself with the prescribed antibiotics... blessing on my way Marie Currie, Pasteur and Einstein. Who knows, maybe it is one of them that got hold of one of mushrooms many secrets...

I have much to say about or rather against occidental medicine, but god, am I glad it is there when all my miracle drops and grandmother stews don't work. Occidental medicine, in my opinion, deals -quite accurately I admit- with the symptoms one has. And heals them. Without, often, a deeper thought. Why this symptom? I think one should look deeper, to find out why this or that happens, and heal the origin of the problem instead of the result. But when that fails, believe me, I do not avoid occidental miracle treatment. Gladly I pee bright chemical orange for a week if it will calm and heal my sufferings.

So I have healed now, I am my old self, or a new one, but the very one who is going to cross the pacific very soon. And, I must tell you, I am not looking forward to that too much... The first lap of the crossing could take up to a month, if the wind - always the wind - doesn't allow us a stop over at Juan Fernandez or Easter island or Pitcairn... one month, seeing nothing but the sea, the blue, unchanging horizon. It doesn't matter if the visibility is good or not. When you are in high seas, the line of the horizon will be at the edge of the sea, at the edge of the sky, and it will be horizontal, with a slight curve downwards. Always the same thing, but never really the same. Nuances of half or quarter shades. The ripple of the water that is just a little wider. the contrast of the sky that is just visible or just not... All these details one speaks about to pretend there is something going on... It is actually all just the blue sea with blue or grey sky on top of it. I tell you now because I'm still on land, and it is now I can warn you about it. Ones I'm sailing I'll probably be all about shades of blue and depth of sight or the lack of it... But I know by now. I know it is just to fill the lack of land that my mind finds such microscopic things to occupy itself with. And I'm glad it does find such occupations, just as glad that I can switch to antibiotics when needed.

The human being is an adaptation machine. You put it anywhere and it will find a way, maybe not all humans, but the ones that do, adapt themselves in such ways that they end up by really feeling this is what they want, until you put them in another situation, and they'll switch, tchk, to the new situation and again, think that it is what they want. This of course to a certain degree. Depending on their essential basic needs, like security or the lack of it for example.

I am one of these adaptation freaks, but I know now for sure that I am a land animal, and now that I am on land, the very thought of being thousands of miles away from my essential element doesn't rejoice me one bit... I dread our taking at sea, I dread the never ending, never changing horizon. I dread the night watches and the broken sleep. But I am ready...

Ready because it is what I do, I go around the world on a tiny sailboat, and... I love it! Paradoxes of life. I love it really, but I don't like the long crossings. And, let me tell you a secret... I have not personally met the sailor who does, yet. Not one.

It is land I'm looking for, by sea, as a means of transportation, but it is the land I yearn for.

So now, just days away from the longest crossing, the biggest spread of water between my position and the next landfall.... I shiver I quiver I make nightmares and have cold sweats... I say I'm ready, because I'll never be more ready than this, but I'm not... and never will be...

But just try to keep me from going and I'll receive you with pointy nails and sharp teeth. I am ready, I told you, even if I don't like it, if I don't look forward to it. I'll go, because that's what I do. And don't come up with stories and excuses, I know what I have to do. Life has always been full of paradoxes, and this is one of mine.


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