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The wind in your hair. Your home in a bag. A vague destination. Random glasses of sugarcane juice for your parched throat, and steaming mugs of ginger-lemon for those chilly mornings. Multiple directions from different well-wishers duelling with glances of the tattered map. Every cup of tea delicious and as different as the person making it and the shack its drunk at. The perfect soundtrack randomly played.  The sweet sleep of a long days’ ride after a nice shower and a full tummy. The quiet cigarette enjoyed in a multitude of places, just me, Goo and the vistas before me…
The companions met and lost, each on their own journey leaving you with something unique. Why do you ride solo people ask me… what other way is there I think to myself… while making excuses they might understand. Because, in the world we live in, one doesn’t travel solo. One doesn’t enjoy their own company even though you have the mountains and the streams and the skies with you. Even though you have the passing cows and the playful squirrels and the soaring kites with you. The rivers to listen to and the mountains to get lost in. And the simple joy in riding an amazing machine on a well paved road… This is my humble attempt to try to document my travel experiences with Goo, to try and put into words and photos and sketches the amazing feeling that is ‘on the move’ …
– The Wandering Artist

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