donderdag 8 december 2011
|
Aart Huijg werkte de laatste jaren als leraar aan een universiteit in Amsterdam. Houdend van zijn vak, haatte hij de daarbij behorende levensstijl. Vast achter het bureau voor 8 uur per dag. Zo sprong hij op zijn fiets en besloot om aan een heel groot avontuur te beginnen. Fietsen van de Noord- naar de Zuidpool, zo dicht als met de fiets mogelijk. Zijn tocht startte in Pruhoe Bay, Alaska en zal eindigen het meest zuidelijke puntje van Zuid Amerika. Lees zijn blog... |
 |
Stand the change
From now onwards, anyone can shoot me. It can happen within five minutes when I withdraw my first Mexican Pesos at the ATM. Or, maybe, it takes longer before I will have to hand over all my belongings. However, it will happen if I do not move quickly. The odds are high that the bandits are informed already. Most likely, they are waiting for me somewhere in the desert far away from this border town near Juarez. I will be lucky if they let me walk back to the U.S. with my clothes on!
It is silent at the customs office. A young officer checks my passport and prepares some paperwork. It takes way too long, if you ask me. Through the window, I can see my Monster. I am relieved to see that the panniers are still there. When customs officer is done, he returns my passport. I am eager to leave, but apparently we are not done. The young man orders me to fill in another form. It appears to be an inquiry about his own performance. Without giving it too much thinking, I rate all his skills excellent and return the form. This is not the time to be picky.
Preparations
So far, I felt pretty calm about crossing the border. However, some suppressed fear starts to pop up. Surprisingly, also people near the border region keep warning me about the violent situation in Mexico. Even though I have numerous people praying for me in the U.S., I have taken my own precautions as well. For instance, I let my beard grow to look poor. The coming three days, I will not talk to anyone. No exceptions will be made. All Mexicans at this border town pertain to a drug cartel. They all seem to play the main role in the newest Tarantino gangster film. Big moustaches, dark eyes, and curved cowboy heads. I keep my back straight and only salute if I have to.
Moving with anxiety
Once outside of the village, I cool down a bit. There is hardly any traffic and I pick up my old routine of saluting car drivers. My thoughts are carried away by the cotton, red peppers and cola bottles lying on the side of the road when a car pulls over in front of me. It scares the shit out of me. There you go! This is the moment! Next thing you know, I will be standing aside the road with empty hands. Though, another car shows up and the first car driver takes off again.
After one hour, I reach the junction with the main East-West highway corridor. In this pueblo pavements are completely missing. Dust and sand all over the place. I try hard to get contact with the locals, but I feel nervous. In front of me, three men block the road. Deep inside, I panic. What should I do? While passing by, I smile to them. Their attention is immediately drawn by my five thousand dollar bike. Back in the desert, I feel comfortable again. On the single lane road, shoulders are missing. Fast driving cars are my main concern now. I put myself on the middle of the road to slowdown cars behind me.
I stop early today. Too many impressions. Too much anxiety. In the middle of the desert along the road, I climb over the fences and pitch my tent far in the cactus field.
Je kunt Aart volgen via zijn Facebook of website. Aart rijdt op een door de Giant Store Amsterdam gesponsorde Giant Expedition AT.
