After having a magical time in Strandzha in Bulgaria, I crossed the border to Turkey. The border crossing went without any problems and I got the first stamp in my fresh passport.

In the first city I entered, I immediately felt how different Turkey was. It seemed very lively to me. In every settlement there was something like a central area where people met, hung out and lived their social life. I very rarely eat meat or fish, but when I saw the Köfte restaurant, I couldn’t resist. I’ve loved koefte for years and the ones I got there were minimalistic and delicious.

I took a long walk around the small town and bought different foods to try, a sim card, talked to a lot of different people and got a bit of a feel for how things were going in this new country. What impressed me the most was that the Turkish people seemed to be very talkative. They weren’t afraid of language barriers and seemed very friendly, interested and hospitable.

After that, I continued my trip and went to a wild beach on the Black Sea coast. This beach reminded me a lot of the big beach near Varna where I had spent a lot of time. But to get to this beach in Turkey, Rosinante and I had to go through some muddy off-roading and very narrow passages. We even got lost, but some friendly locals helped us finding the right way. That was a lot of fun. When I reached the beach, I met a very friendly goatherd and we had a nice conversation via Google Translate.

I stayed for a few days of hanging around at the beach, bo staff training, meditating, making music and so on and during these days only the goat herder visited me again, then I continued on my way. Because it would have been be an insanely long trip to return to the road and continue from there, I decided to take the shortcut and drive along the beach. I scouted the beach first, because I didn’t want to hopelessly bug down Rosinante on this wild beach. So I dropped the pressure in her tires to about one bar and took off. Everything was going great until we approached the last little slope that would lead to the exit of the beach. All the momentum I had built up was swallowed up in a second by that little slope and Rosinante’s tires immediately started digging themselves into the sand. Looking at the situation from the outside, I knew this was going to be a tough one. The sand was super soft and Rosinante’s rear axle was already touching it. I took my time and dug very well. I placed my two large aluminum recovery boards and the two small leveling blocks to get a little more traction. I locked Rosinante’s rear differential, let her slowly crawl onto the boards, and once she was there, I let her take off and build some momentum. The little slope swallowed it all with a big appetite. After three meters, Rosinante lay down on the sand like a sleeping whale. So I dug again. And it took me some time to find the leveling blocks because they were buried deep in the sand. After the second digging, I sent Rosinante forward again. The appetite of the slope didn’t seem to be satisfied. Again, it swallowed Rosinante’s entire momentum in just a meters. So I dug again. I dug out and placed the boards and leveling blocks. I launched Rosinante. And the slope got another feast of momentum. So I dug again, dug and placed the boards and leveling blocks, launched Rosinate and… finally we reached solid ground again.

After our wonderful hut tour, we arrived back in Varna. Artha started a yoga teacher training and I lived the city life in Rosinante right on the beautiful city beach.

Artha wanted to focus on the yoga teacher training and I could understand that very well. If I had been in her shoes, I thought, I’d have wanted to do the same thing. I lived on the city beach of Varna for a week and found a wonderful little beach that felt like a little natural paradise in the city life. Like a little oasis. I enjoyed living on the city beach and Artha and I met up occasionally. As I write this, it feels like at the time I was pushing far away any thoughts or feelings that might prevent me from enjoying that life. It feels like my love for Artha made me feel this way. I wanted to stay by her side. At least for my ego, that seemed to be the most important thing. And as I described in one of the previous posts, I lived that aspect of myself like anything else. I didn’t push Artha too hard, but I still told her how I felt. I never said it had to be how I felt, I just wanted to be pure and honest.

The yoga teacher training was intense and Artha felt like she couldn’t do it wholeheartedly, while at the same time wholeheartedly living the connection between us. She felt that our connection and the dynamic between us were of a very different kind of energy than this profound personal training. I absolutely felt the same way. Although I didn’t like it, we decided that it would be best for her to focus entirely on her training and for me to continue my nature and travel life. I didn’t like this. I felt that once we put some physical distance between us, it was far from certain that we’d see each other again. We both said that we’d like to see each other again when Artha finished her training, but deep down I doubted it. I just felt that she and I carried this brilliant impulse within us to live our respective lives as holistically as possible. Although my romantic love and ego wanted to stay by Artha’s side, I didn’t know if we’d meet again as I continued my journey. It just felt uncertain. Basically, it was like everything in life. Uncertain. Unstable. My ego just wouldn’t accept it. It was only soothed by the fact that the moment I left Varna, Artha and I were firmly convinced that we’d meet again in about two months.

From Varna, I drove to Strandzha National Park. On the way there, I felt torn. I still didn’t like putting distance between me and Artha, but at the same time it felt good and like I was following an inner urge to get going again. To go somewhere without a fixed destination. To go into nature. To stay as long as I want to. To do the things that feel brilliant to me. I remember riding Rosinante very fast down a dirt road that went through a forest, having a lot of fun. At one point, Rosinante even got a little air when she jumped over a small bump and the wheels squealed. Part of me felt free. When I thought about Artha, I felt like I was losing something.

The mountains in Strandzha are wonderful, magical and pure. I parked Rosinante right in the forest and spent all my days outside exploring nature. There were all sorts of things to explore: ancient ritual sites, shrines and all the marvelous and calm beauty of nature.

I felt wonderful, natural and free. And deep inside I suddenly realized that it’s like so many people say: when you let go of a loved one, you experience pure, deep, unconditional love. Not the romantic ego love that is craving for this and that and wants the person you love to make you happy. But the pure love that wants the person you love to be happy. That steps back and throws light into the blurry self-centered perspective of the romantic ego love. For me, there was no doubt that I wanted Artha to be happy and live what felt genuine to her in every moment. And for me, I wanted the same.