Naked dogs, unasked helpful help, blahblah about blahblah and myself

The water, the lake, the rhythm. Breath in and laugh at the world. Precooked plastic sealed quinoa taboulet. Also other food. Thanks dumpster. The beach, the sun, the wind. Pedal up and keep pedaling up. Pedal up and keep pedaling up. Downhill thrill. But we can’t stay here, go on. Although it was a nice place as many others before. Just a constant humming noise from the factory disturbed the beach-lake-cyclist paradise. And maybe that the natural park contains pine and eucalyptus plantations. And windmills. Us, a threat for their well-being. A cow stands next to the windmill, unable to…

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Beaches, hitchbiking, wild fruit, pledges and police

Sorry, this entry is only available in Jungtinių Valstijų Anglų, Europos Ispanų, Vokiečių, Prancūzų, Italų and Rumunų. For the sake of viewer convenience, the content is shown below in this site default language. You may click one of the links to switch the site language to another available language. Beaches As I write this, I’m on a warm sandy beach in Sant Pol de Mar on the Mediterranean coast in the evening. Our group is watching the fireworks dancing above the town. Somebody asked whether they were ‘eco-fireworks’. We thought about it, then gave a small ‘woop’ for the next…

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