Night I spend on the highway Szeged – Budapest – Bratislava – Brno – Prague – Dresden – Leipzig. The car smells of bell peppers, four big sacks of Serbian bell peppers share the back seat with me. I am happy. This is the father and his son. They take me kindly to Leipzig, and very quick. Why, so I wonder, do I feel so much alive even now as an experienced free rider? Is it that I am consuming the spirit of Kerouac? Why is being on the road in itself source of excitement, even if all you see is asphalt and a needle pointing steadily at 170 km/h? The feeling of breaking away, leaving that world behind in which the person you spoke to yesterday is operating and has woven his thickly net of power. You are the fat fly escaping, assuming a different kind of power. All the webs are below you, glistening in the sunlight that is enough for them. You see the whole panorama below you, you see the vanity, the weakness of the silk. A different kind of power. A different kind of power.
In Leipzig central station Silvia comes to see me, which excites us both. We have a lot to tell each other. Our lives have both changed in and out and we understand each other well. Traveling life blends with reality. We have become busy people and our hearty goodbye was quick. That night, I arrive in Berlin by a comfortable private train and get an incredibly kind welcome from my friends. They are making the unlikely real, that I feel happy and complete in this very city where I buried some ugly stones of a past.