April 12, 2013
Breakfasting by a waterfall somewhere in Laos, I’m
contemplating the strangeness of the mind. I’m doing a bit of ‘trip-planning’.
The logistics of conventional travel are nothing compared to traveling with
your own vehicle. There are a bunch of bureaucratic hoops to jump through.
Stupid laws!
I’m trying sort out my Carnet de Passage en Douane, an
expensive and complicated piece of paper which acts like a passport for the motorcycle.
It’s essentially a bank guarantee which prevents individuals from importing vehicles
into countries without paying tax, which makes sense. Stupid reasons for the
laws!
I also need to figure out how to ship the bike from
Southeast Asia to India. China requires tourists entering with their own vehicle
to hire a private guide costing over $200 a day. Myanmar does not let tourist
enter or exit their country via the land borders. Bringing your own vehicle
into Myanmar is a no-no. Stupid governments!
I also need to figure out how to get my visas for Pakistan,
Tajikistan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and a bunch of other weird countries. It
would be helpful if I had known about concurrent passports about a year ago. Issued
sparingly, they are valid for only a year or two. They function like an extra
passport, which could spend time zooming from embassy to embassy in the US
while I travel freely in India and Nepal. I lament that I didn't get one this summer. before I had any idea about the trip. Stupid mind!
Wishing the past were other than it was is a terrible
affliction. It causes considerable dis-ease. Yet the mind loves to roll in the
past, wanting the impossible. “Oh, wouldn’t it have been great if [ Event Stuck
in The Past ] was more like [ Fantasy ]?”. A subtle but noticeable longing is
felt; a smidgen of unease is created. Wanting what is not and could never be: a
literal disease of the mind.