On the road

Good evening, mates!
My name is Ilya and I'm not a published or professional writer or anybody like that. I can't even call myself a writer. I'm just a man who tries to live his own unique life and shares some pages of my paltry being.
The only rule I follow was firmly formulated by Ernest Hemingway: "Write drunk, edit sober." And now I'm damn drunk. Drunk with life. Drunk with people. I've just quitted one of the most atmospheric bars in Saint Petersburg - Poison where you can meet people from all over the world - Russia, Finland, Chili, USA or Australia. This is where a guy from New Zealand showed me your project and convinced me to give a try. Accidents are not accidental. And now, typing these letters, I feel like a man chasing his departing train to the Land of Adventures.

The story I'm going to tell you about took place in Belgium, where I was tramping, couchsurfing and hitchhiking from one city to another. Three weeks of cars, roads, trains, adventures and personalities. That was one of those remarkable evenings When you are tuned on one wavelength with each atom in the Universe.
Nothing could discompose the feeling of common peace and happiness, my pursuit for meaning of the moment was sharpening my feelings, sense and emotions. Despite the fact that I was arrested by policemen for hitchhiking and what is more my wallet with money and credit cards was stolen and I had no place to live, nevertheless, I was swimming beneath a myriad of burning stars, gazing at horizonless valleys and lonely farmhouses, absorbing every second of freedom and independence.

Fortune smiled on me and after roaming a couple of kilometers I found an oasis in a desert. That was the Airport of Liege, or In French Luik (sound more tender to me). This place has become not only my shelter for a couple of days but also a place where I could make a phone call to my girlfriend in Saint Petersburg, Russia. My bottom dollar I spent in the payphone for singing 29 seconds of "All my loving" - my favorite song of Liverpool quartet.

People often ask me: "How didn't you get sadden after losing a wallet? How it feels to stay in foreighn country, alone, without money?" And I always say: "That was an unforgettable, reckless and could-not-be-better experience".