Finishing the road-book made me wander of into the past, to places where I’ve been, to people I’ve met. Even to people I wish I’d met. Why was I born too late, why wasn’t I born before? I would have cruised with Jack and his buddies; we would have been out there doing it, digging everything. Cruising from New York to LA to the cradle of the beat-generation, to San Francisco. Cruising down to Mexico City digging all the Indians along the road and drinking far too much cheap booze, getting high on the surrounding nature, getting high on just being on the road.
I’ve travelled quite extensively and dug quite some people, but perhaps never in the way Jack did, I’ve certainly been to more countries than he’s ever visited, but then again why should he have, America’s so big that one doesn’t have to leave the country to have a good time, just an occasional cruise down to Mexico. In my case I’d have to travel outside of my own country to find other people, but then again I wouldn’t have to go so far, the country I’m supposed to call my own isn’t much larger than 200 km wide and 350 km long! Jack would travel 3000 miles just to see his man Neal in San Francisco, if I would travel 3000 miles I’d have left the continent! The nice thing about this is that I am so much closer to other civilisations than Jack and his buddies ever were. Different countries, different cultures. I now live in a rather big country as well, but the cultural differences between north, south, east and west is great enough to dig every place and see different people in all these different places.