Brock { Abroad }

Perhaps the best way to describe this city is like Amsterdam’s bitchier sister who is just as hot, but more in the ‘I can kick your ass’ kind of way. Rotterdam has chewed me up and spit me out, yet I still keep coming back for more. With gusts of salty wind, huge skyscrapers, and an impossible grind of cars, trams, and bicycles, she doesn’t give you the time to think. People aren’t strolling canals in circles, but crossing bridges with a direct destination in mind. Here, you work hard and you play hard. Any questions? If so, catch the nearest train back to Amsterdam; maybe someone up there will give you the time of day.

I just took  a long bike ride through Rotterdam to say goodbye. I even took some photos of the brute beauty. The train ticket is bought. The bag is packed. I find myself yet again in another moment of movement. Read the rest of this entry »

First of all, a very Merry Christmas to everyone celebrating , and a Happy Holiday season to all you readers out there! This year, I am solo for my first holiday.

From Manhattan to Monaco, Mumbai to Montreal, I traveled far and wide and did it all… Solo!… But my first holiday–alone?

It started slowly hitting home in France, but once I got to Paris where snow and glazzle and dazzle could be found galore– it hit– my first holiday alone. It’s not exactly the most fun without your family during the holidays, but I am grateful to have a room of my own for the next two weeks as I plan for the year ahead. Coincidentally, I am in the exact position I was over two months ago. I think they call that ‘coming full-circle.’

It’s a lot colder now and there’s been record snowfall in Holland so far this season. I don’t really mind as I stay inside all day hibernating. The sense of place I feel when coming here gives me an extreme amount of confidence as I look back on the obvious progress I’ve made in the past few months. Where, most of the time, I was also solo. I really think it made a difference.

See my list below to learn why you need to go solo.

There are moments where I find myself, most likely, with a friend I’ve had for years or perhaps a friend I’d traveled with before who feels like a life-long friend after having hitting the road together. These are people who tend to really “get me,” who can pick things up after years without noticing,  and with whom I can be at my absolute craziest without even getting a flinch. These are people who have also occasionally  driven me crazy from just spending too much time tethered together. Because, as we all know:

too much of a good thing is, well… not good anymore. That’s when I say… Adios, Amigo!…

… and then I strap on the bag and keep on keepin’ on!  Here’s a pilgrim’s list to:

Traveling  Solo: Really, you need to give it a try… Read the rest of this entry »

I hopped on a plane for Europe knowing what I was passionate about and determined to find a way to make the terms on which I wanted to live my life and the the things I truly cared about work together. I ended up in Rotterdam, Netherlands a few months ago, where I first heard of Knowmads through a friend I’d made with my couchsurfing host. After putting down more and more of myself on paper, I knew it was time to take those thoughts moving. It had been almost four years since I’d been back to Spain, a year of enormous self-growth studying and living with a Spanish family in the south. A month later, I left Rotterdam to complete the Camino de Santiago, an over 300 kilometer walk through northern Spain.

I soon began to understand what Nietzsche meant when he said “Never trust a thought that didn’t come by walking.” Read the rest of this entry »

So, long ago, in a post entitled “Children Can Imagine Away Pain,” I wrote about a group of breakdancers I met under a parking garage on a rainy afternoon in Rotterdam. Well, I know a good find when I hear one; or smell, or taste, or see, or… well, you get the idea. The breakdancer named Henno introduced me to a friend who had started up an arts collective in Rotterdam under the name Bier en Brood
It was the solid gold of arts collectives. They were working towards community development through various workshops with youth, squatting a hangar near the port, and making radical art. There was only one problem, they were losing their space and had nowhere to go. I went to check out the collective myself and interview Koen, the mutual friend I’d been introduced to. It was there I heard about some radical ideas, mind-blowing art, and heart-wrenching stories. Although I was waiting to do this post once I got the video up, I am having some technical difficulties. So, the show must go on. Above is a shot of one of their many multi-faceted works. Check out the website to see more. I will also post the more detailed story that is being considered for publication in NL10, the Rotterdam City Pages, of sorts.

When I was studying at an arts school, myself and a friend were running late for class one morning. We both scuttled into the quiet morning of the first period, halfway over, and squeaked our separate ways to class. Luckily, for me, my teacher just gave me a dirty look and had me take me seat. For my friend, he was sent to receive a pass and record the absence. There seemed to be a new secretary at my school every week, and this week’s secretary wasn’t like last week’s, who took every excuse in the book. When he told me what he’d said that made his unexcused an excused, I couldn’t believe it.

He said he’d “had an epiphany.”
Read the rest of this entry »

Perhaps the best way to describe this city is like Amsterdam’s bitchier sister who is just as hot, but more in the “I can kick your ass” kind of way. As a matter of fact, this city has chewed me up and spit me out, but left me coming back for more. With gusts of salty wind, huge skyscrapers, and an impossible grind of cars, trams, and bicycles, she doesn’t give you the the time to think. People aren’t strolling canals in circles, but crossing bridges with a direct destination in mind. In Rotterdam, you work hard and you play hard. Any questions? If so, catch the nearest train back to Amsterdam; maybe someone up there will give you the time of day.

It’s not surprising, then, that I reached the first obstacle of my trip here. Head spinning, my body lies like a rag on the sofa, my brain is fuzzy, and the television plays movie after movie, as if on repeat. Maybe it is on repeat. I’m not sure. The flu medicine is kicking in…
A foghorn drifts through the window; a bicycle bell jingles; People scamper by,
bicycle chains crank along screeching brakes as a stoplight turns red. A tram groans along its creaking tracks, crunching corners. A horn honks, a bridge erupts, some people (finally) stop. A ship churns along splashing water,
a boy ambles for his ball, a crane cranks overhead. The bridge snaps tight again, it’s rusted rotting chains back in place. The road begins to whip with wet tires.
Read the rest of this entry »