So, we are back to reality. The news is the news again. Sorry family Hazes, stick-on adolescents and soccer women with Michelin lips, not right now. The world is on fire and the news is harsh, relentless and intensely sad. I’m not talking about Ajax either. So I write this from my home fortress. I’m not pulling it anymore. I put all the mattresses together and covered it with sheets. I have flashlights, a laptop and a 300 gram bag of Paprika Chips. Cut off from the outside world, too cruel to me. For how to proceed now? I’ve just read almost all the party manifestos for November, but I start crying and get paprika powder in my eye… Who? Who? But really? Our larger cities have ghettoization with bombings, and the government worries about fruit vapes and cans but forgets that a quantity of fun pills and powdered sugar go through every weekend, and we all think it’s normal. One has to do with the other. Lawyers and witnesses are shot but if you draw enough lines yourself to start an athletic track, you are part of the problem. But who is doing anything about it? Our (future) government? Fortunately, now the cap cannot come off Coke bottle! The government is pumping 200 million into a slavery fund that I’m sure will soon be used for gatherings where only people who have long been aware of it come anyway. I always think, give Suriname 200 million under the condition of investing it in a strong traffic bureau, to promote the great country for tourism. Colombia also worked out well. KLM Preaching to one’s own parish is of little use. A bit like KLM’s “new” wokeness, which is otherwise well-meaning, but you can’t brand yourself as a great advocate for LBGTQ+ rights if you only do them to destinations where, thankfully, they’re also aware that love is love. But that is not everywhere in the world. I appreciate all the efforts, but cobbler stick to your last. Go fly. Literally connect people. Do we do it figuratively. As a travel company, stay far from statements if you cannot live up to them. You read, I am getting a little cynical in my room-igloo. We can’t even solve our own problems, let alone the continuous horror elsewhere. And remember: there are more than 30 other warring conflict zones in the world, for ages. But that’s mainly in Africa, no one has ever cared about that here. Terrace Angry Old Man is sometimes shouted. Is too, definitely angry. That’s because I care too much about this world not to fight for it. Therefore, my advocacy for wanderlust. To speak to other cultures. Not with the policy makers, whether they came to power democratically, by inheritance or with a gun. But with you and me. The husband and wife who need to slow down a little at the end of the month. Who enjoy sitting on a terrace and helping each other when they need to. If I have learned one thing is that in every culture, fathers and mothers usually love their children very much. We all award those better. If you talk to each other about that, there’s a great starting point.
