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The travel blues (or maybe I’m just really hangry)

When you think about it, travelling is no different from normal life. Wherever you may be, in the end of the day you gotta put some food in that face of yours and you gotta close your eyes and rest. Doesn’t matter if you’re in the illuminated streets of a foreign city, in the middle of the jungle or in the comfort of your own home. Some things are just the same. Similarly, there are days you feel good and days where you feel a little less good. Today, I had one of the latter days.

On the road again

Leaving Vegas this afternoon, we picked up the camper van, or RV (pronounce: ARRRR VEEEEEEEE), like the Americano’s like the call them here. Driving through the US in a camper van was something Annemiek really wanted, and so here we are! 

The wind on highway 15 west has picked up, throwing the ARRR VEEE from side to side. The engine is way too small to be pulling all the weight it needs to carry, and it screams in agony when we go uphill. Trucks swoop past left, right and center. BIG trucks, that create an air vacuum as they pass, causing our camper van to swerve even more. 

It’s intense driving. Usually, I am pretty relaxed, sitting back and enjoying the ride. In this monster, I drive like an old lady, my hands gripped around the steering wheel like there’s no tomorrow, no blinking, eyes firmly on the road ahead. Boom, rattle, shake. Everything moves behind me.

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More roads. Roads, roads and endless roads.

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Grandma Jesper behind the wheel.

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Desert. There is nothing here but sand and small vegetation.

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Driving here is great.

Man = hungry!

I get some energy after a double espresso and we head out on the road again. My brain still can’t fathom how little people live here, there aren’t any houses or towns for kilometres and kilometres. Every now and again we cross a small town with small fast food joints, but that’s only every 75 kilometres or so. It is so bloody hot outside, it’s crazy. 116 degrees fahrenheit, a thermometer tells me. I think. That’s about 45 degrees celsius. FORTY-FIVE! That is loco! No mercy for anything or anybody. You won’t survive here, nothing and no one will. 

More driving in the gusty winds shakes the RV and moves it from lane to lane. At last we drive into a small town called Barstow, off of highway 15. There we find a supermarket and spend the next hour looking for guacamole, taco’s and other things. I just realise I haven’t eaten anything for the past seven hours, except for a slice of cheese. Man am I hangry (hungry + angry because of it). Maybe that’s why I’m so grumpy.. :’)

A camping book tells us there’s small RV camping nearby, and that’s where we drive to. After hooking up the electricity and the water I take some time for myself and take a look around. I walk up to the end of the campsite. Again, nothing here. The sun has just set behind the mountains to the left of me, this place is so pretty. Ah well, see for yourself:

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Wow. Pure wow. I was a little too late taking the picture, the sun had just set, but still the colours are crazy beautiful.

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After a bluesy, 45 degree day, this is just pristine heaven.

I dip in the pool, which is heaven. The water is relatively cold, compared to how warm it here is. Now, with the sun down, it is still around 40 degrees, and the cold water refreshes and relaxes me. I meditate a little next to the pool until two beer bellies and their wives jump in the pool. So much for the peace. Time to go to the  camper van then where a cold Mexican cerveza is waiting for me in the fridge. I feel totally revived and supergreat again after the swim.

Before going to bed, I look at the picture Laia send me yesterday of her and our not-so-little-anymore Rocco after a day at the beach. I smile. I miss you, lieverd. Can’t wait to be there with you. See you super soon.

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I love you all, guys. Thanks for all the sweet comments, messages and encouragements, it really motivates me to keep writing down my silly stories every day. See you tomorrow!

This is where I am right now (my mom said this would be a good idea):

READ NEXT: HOW I PUCHED VEGAS RIGHT BACK IN THE FACE

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This is Travel Viking
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This is Travel Viking

Captain of the Ship at This is Travel Viking
Writer. Traveller. Bearded man child. Better-looking than Donald Trump. Skinnier than Steven Seagal. Probably the best writer on this website.
This is Travel Viking
Stalk me

Latest posts by This is Travel Viking (see all)

This is Travel Viking

Writer. Traveller. Bearded man child. Better-looking than Donald Trump. Skinnier than Steven Seagal. Probably the best writer on this website.

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