Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
I stood there on Hollywood Boulevard and began to cry. Like, really cry. The kind of
crying men don't do, at least not in the middle of the day on a busy street. They were old
tears. Tears from growing up in a world where the people around me were often more in-
terested in keeping a stiff upper lip than in genuinely connecting with the people around
them, including me. And the only way to heal from that, the only way for all of us to heal,
is through other people. It all made sense in that moment. I approached the homeless man
with his serendipitous sign and put two $20 bills into his decrepit hat. That one act of
giv-
ing
was able to make me feel what I hadn't felt in years: communion with another. Sure,
I felt connected to the people in my life—my girlfriend, my family, the people I worked
with—but what I was missing was that deep and impenetrable feeling that I was
one with
someone else. The man on the street smiled at me. I smiled in return. Then I rushed home,
knowing exactly what I had to do.
And by “rushed home,” I really mean “crawled along in a Los Angeles-size traffic jam.”
But that's the upside of traffic: it gives you time to think. It was then that I formulated my
plan. I realized that my first foray across America had been all about
receiving
kindness
(by travelling on only $5 a day), but for my next journey receiving was not going to be
enough. This time I needed things to go full circle—I needed to
offer
kindness, as well as
receive it.
By the time I emerged from traffic hell, I had already decided that I would circumnav-
igate the globe and that I would do it on a vintage motorbike. Like Che. The bike had to
have a sidecar because you never knew who would need a helping hand. And it had to be
yellow. Yes, yellow. Because yellow motorbikes are way cooler. I would have no money.
No food. No place to stay. And the unnerving part—no gas. I also decided right away that
I would not accept money. People could offer me food and lodging, but they could not give
me the cash to pay for it myself. I wasn't looking for a free ride; I was looking for a shared
one.
It dawned on me that I might be in the process of creating the first vehicle powered
solely by kindness. Just as asking for help had allowed me to connect the last time I traveled
across America, I figured it would do the same this time. “Why change a winning for-
mula?” I wondered to myself.
But on this journey, I wouldn't just be asking for help. I would ultimately be offering
something in return. Something life-changing. I wanted to reconnect to the world and hope-
fully, in some small way, reconnect my brothers and sisters of the world to themselves and
to each other. I would use my own money to repay the kindness of those who had helped
