on the road

[a view: north of Iran]

they day before my retun, i met this boy (no, no, not like that, keep reading).

he came from paris to tehran, on a motorcycle, by himself.
he had passed through 16 countries, and thought he is going to die when after a brutal accident he was unconscious for a few days and was taken care of by a Turkish family that found him.
they even fixed his bike for free, since his credit card was stolen.
he was to continue his journey to india, and then all the way back to paris. (on a motorcycle, by himself).

i met him through a series of strange circumstances. we went to Lavasan and on the way talked about Proust, politics, and liberty. i found a very good friend.

"To pass through virgin lands in the contact of unknown populations and cultures; crossing wild lands where I could scream and only get the echo of my own voice in answer, that was the most beautiful thing nature could ever ofer to me," he wrote in an e-mail on his return to paris last week.

cool.
no?