A weekend full of reunion with important people, returning home is always an adventure to tell, an adventure full of hugs, kisses, family dinner, humble food, but full of affection, conversations of stories lived and that were to be told in person, But I will talk about those memories on another occasion, today I come to tell you about the adventure of traveling 168 kilometers from Havana City to Pinar del Rio and back, by truck or bus, something that many see as a punishment, or something necessary and sometimes essential, but for me it is an adventure worth enjoying.
Traveling by truck is to see a constant and inexhaustible landscape, with music in my ears, especially when you get a pair of new headphones like the ones I got this Sunday, those who know me know that it is a gift that I enjoy very much and thanks to my cousin for the gift. Traveling by truck is to discover new stories in the faces of unknown people, which are the same stories as yours, only lived from other points of view. The broken line that guides the way, the green on both sides of the road, the animals that you stumble upon, the air that brings humidity and the book to refresh your eyes.
Characters you meet in a truck: there is the salesman who goes all the way selling rositas de maíz, peanuts or chicharrón de viento, there is the one who goes sleeping and even snoring as if he were in his bed, the one who has never taken that route and goes watching where he has to stay, those who travel in company and go telling the gossip of a year ago, the one who goes eating, the pensive one, the one who goes playing with the cell phone and the one who goes complaining about the lack of connection, the patient who goes looking for new medical criteria to another province, the restless child.
The university student who goes full of luggage, clothes and food to stay that time on a scholarship, the military, the doctor, the teacher, the worker, no one is safe from not living this adventure, it is simply sharing the same space with strangers for two or three hours. There are also those who are at the stops under the rain or the sun waiting to be picked up and the nomadic characters who do not find a seat and decide to venture on foot the whole trip, from one foot to another, managing the fatigue and the desire to arrive quickly at their destination.
Who wants to be the chauffeur? Who to bring a plate of food to his table has to go back and forth, many times at night, raining, with a broken truck, the spirit of work or without it, just driving senselessly on the bare road or maybe for life. Traveling by truck is traveling in time, it smells like saying goodbye to a place you don't want to leave and therefore you will come back again, maybe in a week or a month, in a bus, train or truck, but I will take for granted that I always come back to the truck that always takes me back home, just where I was, am and will be happy. That's what life is all about.
The images used in the post are my own, taken from my personal gallery. Texts translated to English by Deepl Translate. You can find me on my social networks YouTube, Threads, Telegram, Instagram.