Everyday im travelling down the road and flirt in with disaster

What's it Like to Travel in Mozambique? | Never Ending Footsteps

everyday im travelling down the road and flirt in with disaster

Video clip and lyrics Flirting with disaster by Molly Hatchet. We're flirtin' I'm travelin' down the road and I'm flirtin' with disaster. I've got the Feel about the same most every day. You know Yeah, we're traveling down this lonesome road. Flirtin' With Disaster Lyrics: I'm traveling down the road and I'm flirting with disaster / I got the pedal to floor, my life is running faster / I'm out of money, out of hope, it looks like self destruction. I'm flirtin' with disaster every day. And you are too. I`m traveling down the road And I`m flirting with disaster I got the pedal to the most every day Know what I`m talkin bout, babe Speeding down the fast lane and .

everyday im travelling down the road and flirt in with disaster

It makes you feel adventurous. It makes you feel alive.

  • Flirtin' With Disaster Lyrics
  • What’s it Like to Travel in Mozambique?

The locals are welcoming. The food is delicious. The beaches are out of this world. A sandy street in the backpacker hangout of Tofo. I was terrified when I arrived in Maputo. Criminals are forceful and ruthless, often work in groups, and carry firearms. Expats and tourists have been targeted in the past, so be sure not to display any signs of wealth: Women should never walk alone on the beach or take the bus unaccompanied.

Unfortunately, attacks on female tourists have been increasing. I had a very rough start.

FLIRTIN WITH DISASTER CHORDS by Molly Hatchet @ promovare-site.info

Within hours of my arrival in Chimoio I was cheated by moneychangers, had my laptop stolen in a hostel, had to abandon a horrid bus where we were squashed like sardines with stereo blasting. I did it a few years ago with my then Girlfriend. In the capital Maputo the hostel had guards on the gate to make sure no-one broke in. Armed guards at the ATM too. So, why did I go? And in amongst the horror stories I found online, there were just as many gushing reports of life-changing trips in a beautiful country full of welcoming locals.

So I went, and you know what? I wandered on the beaches on my own and only ran into locals who wanted to show me around. I felt safe and welcomed in Mozambique — it felt no different to wandering around in Southeast Asia. I learned a valuable lesson here, in not believing everything you read about a place, and the importance of checking it out with your own eyes before making a judgment.

Lyrics: Flirtin' With Disaster by Molly Hatchet

Because the entire process was complicated, frustrating, and wholly unclear. It was so bad that I started my application process over a month before my departure date and had my visa approved the day before I left. Man, that was nerve-wracking! In a typical example of African bureaucracy, you can easily apply for a visa when traveling overland from South Africa.

I even had to show a photocopy of my residency certificate for Portugal! Some people say you just need to fill out a form; others needed to have bank statement, flight bookings, hotel bookings, letters of invitation, proof of residency.

Some people have been told completely different things by two people at the same embassy.

everyday im travelling down the road and flirt in with disaster

This was the view I woke up to every morning in Vilanculos: Mozambique is actually so much bigger than it looks on maps. Flights are infrequent and illogical, rarely going from where you are to where you want to be, and especially not on the date you want to fly.

Build travel delays into your schedule and aim to spend three-to-five days in each place rather than one or two. It was having to be super-careful with my DSLR and keeping it hidden away and sometimes only snapping photos when nobody was around or tons of people were surrounding me.

It was the ATMs running out of money or not accepting your card. It was having to be fearful of malaria and waking up to enormous bugs in your room, no matter how much money you paid for your stay. It was the security guards outside of hostels and hotels and banks and stores. One is to panic: How many more are there? I have always gone out on a limb for love.

A dangerous, romantic, disappointing way to live. That does not mean it IS brighter and lovelier; it just means that sweet, kindly home suffers in comparison to tarted-up foreign places with all their jewels on. I am infinitely curious and almost infinitely patient with mishaps, discomforts, and minor disasters. Just as there are some wives who will occasionally need a break from their husbands in order to visit a spa for the weekend with their girlfriends, I will always be the sort of wife who occasionally needs a break from her husband in order to visit Cambodia.

Just for a few days! If I wish to live in my native land and love her, it should not be out of ignorance. Perhaps this was a little like dying, the departed no longer visible to the others, yet both still existed, only in different worlds. Oddly, the billowing diesel fumes of the airport did not smell like suffocating effluence, it assumed a peculiar pungent scent that morning, like the beginning of a new adventure, if an adventure could exude a fragrance.

Some people think that too much travel begets infidelity: Separation and opportunity test the bonds of love. The appeal of the double life begets travel. You can chalk off the hours on the back of the seat ahead. But seventy-some hours will not seem so long to you if you tell yourself first: This is where I am going to be for the rest of my natural life. It is the one way of freedom. If you go to a place on anything but your own feet you are taken there too fast, and miss a thousand delicate joys that were waiting for you by the wayside.

They require an explanation. What is my name? Why am I here? Should we have stayed at home and thought of here? Where should we be today? Is it right to be watching strangers in a play in this strangest of theatres? The tiniest green hummingbird in the world? To stare at some inexplicable old stonework, inexplicable and impenetrable, at any view, instantly seen and always, always delightful?

Oh, must we dream our dreams and have them, too? And have we room for one more folded sunset, still quite warm? And then myself, walking with the alignment that only comes after miles, the loose diagonal rhythm of arms swinging in synchronization with legs in a body that felt long and stretched out, almost as sinuous as a snake…when you give yourself to places, they give you yourself back; the more one comes to know them, the more one seeds them with the invisible crop of memories and associations that will be waiting for when you come back, while new places offer up new thoughts, new possibilities.

Exploring the world is one the best ways of exploring the mind, and walking travels both terrains. Travellers, the shipwrecked, exiles, and the dying draw comfort from the thought.

It made me feel like the universe was hugely generous, and that my species was so damn smart to have constructed such a beautiful city. It is only when we reopen these wrapped and ribboned boxes, upon our triumphant return home, that we discover nothing is the way we had left it before. And those who have a protector in a husband have, generally speaking, obstacles to prevent their roving. It breaks down a kind of inner structure we all have. So few of us are born into motion.

As an adventurer, I am on a journey that I believe will last me my whole life.

Travel Quotes by Women

A new relationship, discovery, or awareness excites me. What contempt the people who think up souvenirs have for other people. Just as you can keep looking at a person and suddenly realise that the way you see them has completely changed: They talk about escaping from it all. Their friends and family diligently listen and politely ignore it when the ruminations fade into oblivion.

So quite a few eyebrows went up when I made this trip a reality. Amelia Earhart, eat your heart out. Every dream has its own dreamer. We are all belonged to a specific journey and dream. Some people are currently looking for it, some people are just figuring it out, some people are still lost, and to some they have finally found it. There will be boondoggles and discombobulated days, freaked-out nights and metaphorical flat tires.

But it will be soul-smashingly beautiful… It will open up your life. Their travels are not bumps along the road — they are life itself. See the world and then come home and decide who you want to be in it, not the other way around, as seems the general trajectory in the U.

everyday im travelling down the road and flirt in with disaster

I want to carry it with me wherever I go. I want my fragile, hurting heart, to recognize fleeting kairos, eternal moments as they pass.

I want to be my own mountain and my own retreat. You had to see where the food was grown, what the riverbanks looked like, and what the highway manners of the inhabitants were. You have to surrender yourself to the chaos. The only way to an open mind is by taking a plane out into the open world. It is its own form of hypnotism, and I am forever under its spell.