🇸🇮🇨🇭🇱🇮 Pay What You Can't

Hello Adventurers, 

I wouldn’t have attempted the Marathon Earth Challenge if I didn’t think I could do it…but that doesn’t mean success is guaranteed. As with much in life, success — more often than not — tends to be earned rather than given (barring nepotism, structural advantages or other du jour privileges). However, when it comes to my project…success is wholly contingent on three things; my body holding up, luck being / remaining on my side, and fellow earthlings showing me kindness or indifference (i.e. them not killing me).

Anyhoo, this week I hit a milestone — which we call a ‘personal record’ or ‘PR’ for short in the endurance sports space — me doing 175 marathons in 2023 (topping my previous record of 174 marathons in 2021). It is an abstract achievement — because it only has worth / significance to me — but it nevertheless represents something I’m quietly proud of: me having done my best (which will stand…whether I go on to set a new world record or not).

I want this newsletter to be received each week as an entertaining offering full of eye-pleasing images contextualized by insightful and/or informative words (occasionally provocative so as to keep you on your bipedal toes)…that combine to inspire you to get out there and do big things (things TBD’d by you…based on your own interests, passions, and goals).

As such, lots of stuff doesn’t make it into the newsletter…because I want to shine a greater light on our shared world…rather than on my internal universe (but the latter does slip into the newsletter because it is me writing everything after all sans editor…but over-reliance on such would be too diaristic and indulgent if dragnet’d week after week).

So the monotony and the miseries — be they captured in art or copy or internal thoughts — tend to hit the editing room floor prior to publishing. Furthermore, this project is the self-given gift of a lifetime so I don’t want to disrespect it — nor you — by dwelling on the behind-the-scenes slog, aches, doubts, exhaustion, and/or occasional in-way-over-my-head-ness that are all associated with this project.

This week I did a bunch of marathons in Slovenia, Switzerland, and Liechtenstein. They are all very pleasant, good-looking countries full of stunning and expansive tracts of nature, and I was grateful to have hit my PR across them…because their peacefulness and serenity enabled me to practice a lot of gratitude; for both this trial-as-ultimate-test-of-self as well as the private tenacities I must exercise / exorcise on certain treks (like when I piss myself, get heat stroke, get robbed, etc.). Said another way, there was a lot of silent nodding this week; as recognition of what we can do — and be — and achieve / endure, if we’re crazy enough to be our authentic selves. Let’s get into it (yet always listen out for our true calling),

- Ben Pobjoy

2023 TREK TRACKER

Where in the world...record am I?

• Countries visited: 59

• Flights taken: 60

• Kilometres flown: 84.762

• Marathons completed: 176

• Kilometres trekked by foot: 8,372.3

• Total kilometres trekked since 2015: 71,463

RAPID WEEKLY RECAP

A speedy synopsis for time-crunched readers

• The Wildest Thing: Staying at a rooming house in Zürich and the shared washroom having a ‘no standing pees’ warning sign above the loo…and me thinking this was bananas…but then me accepting it was exceptionally Swiss (i.e. 1,000% logical) because males — regardless of age — never master banana precision in their lifetime🤪

• The Biggest Obstacle: I have been to 16 countries within the last 30 days, and have executed 24 marathons in that timeframe. The pace is crazy — and I wouldn’t have it any other way — but I’ve also had a headache all week😮‍💨

• The Lesson Learned: Our best days are ahead of us if we regularly engineer challenges to summon the best from ourselves🫡

FIELD NOTES: LJUBLJANA, SLOVENIA

The silent stunner

I know very little about Slovenia, and knew absolutely nothing ‘bout Ljubljana before going there. And having gone, I’m still not confident I’m pronouncing the capital’s name correctly…but respectfully, it doesn’t really matter; because any visitor to this capital city would call it gorgeous (in whatever language one’s native tongue is).

Due to a tight schedule, I could only bang-out a single marathon ‘round Ljubljana…and I majorly lucked out with regards to how my random / slapdash route blossomed with continual beauty (like, around each and every corner). Basically, it’s like this place was a model at a fashion shoot working it for the photographer, and I saw it — from the best angles — and in the best light…at all times.

Anyhoo, I looped Ljubljiana — more on that in a sec — and the place totally threw me for a loop. You see, Slovenia was previously a part of Yugoslavia — and therefore socialist for a good chunk of the 20th century — but it largely lacks the architectural vestiges of socialist classical architecture, and IMO ‘feels’ a lot more Austrian (which it borders) via the ornate Old Town and the stuccoed alpine-y stylings of abodes on the periphery. Now, I’ve only visited 3/7th of the former Yugoslavian countries — so I could be jumping to wrong conclusions — but Slovenia felt like a total outlier. And I don’t know if I missed the memo — and y’all already know this — but Ljubljiana is a total fucking jewel. And not ‘diamond in the rough’…but like full-on gem.

Slovenia is small in both population and landmass…so Ljubljana is tiny. Meaning, I knew it’d be a challenge to conceive a 43 kilometre-long route. Thankfully, I discovered the Trail of Remembrance and Comradeship, being a 33 kilometre-long ‘path’ that circles the city.

Having spent a lot of time in Europe this year, I’ve been regularly taken aback by how much land — and ergo places — the Nazis and Fascists occupied in World War II. It is one thing to read about it, but it is another thing to see a majority of the continent by foot, and be confronted by how widespread the occupation was; like seemingly everywhere.

Many once-occupied places have commemorated the suffering with monuments and plaques — and they adequately communicate the occupation itself — but few convey the scale or impact ‘cause they’re just a physical marker of something that was. As such, they mostly feel disconnected and abstract.

During World War II, the Province of Ljubljana was annexed by Fascist Italy, and the Fascists installed a barbed wire perimeter around it to prevent communication between the city’s Liberation Front and the Slovene Partisans in the countryside. The Trail of Remembrance and Comradeship is a trail laid atop this ‘ring of repression’, and I cannot understate how impactful it is in making you feel something (as you trek it for hours and hours). Basically, it was once something terrible that has been recast as a terrific pedestrian path today, and IMO it is one of the best commemorations of occupation because it closes the gap between the past and the present with no sacrifice of scale; especially as you pass some of the still-standing Fascist bunkers as well as 100+ octagonal obelisks placed around the trail (by Ljubljana) that are engraved with swastikas, graphical barbed wire, and dates (because the occupation was more than three years long).

I caught the trail — which is known as The POT (i.e. the Slovenian acronym for it) — in the south, hit it clockwise, and enjoyed how it took me through small agricultural plots, along streams / meadows with scampering deer, residential neighbourhoods, an industrial zone then up a mountain with hundreds of meters of elevation before spitting me back into civilization. Conceptually and athletically, the trail is a real feat and I hope you’d do it — or hit some of it — should you ever visit. And if so, the trail is best navigated using the AllTrails app ‘cause the trail goes off-path / on-street in some parts. And yes, I use the free version of said app ‘cause I’m cheap.

I did ¾ of my marathon on the trail, but did the final ¼ in the city centre as sunset gave way to evening…and Jesus fucking Christ, the Old Town there is picture perfect (like, it is the best I’ve seen in all of Europe); a small curve-y river runs through it, tiny bridges cross it, and the most elegant little restaurants, bars, and cafés flank the river on both sides. It is indescribably pretty, and I’ve purposely shared a sorta obscured image of it ‘cause I’d hate to spoil it for you. Basically, hats off to the city of Ljubljana because they’ve treated the Old Town with the utmost respect — as though it is a theatrical set piece — and it is ‘lit up’ at night in the most dramatic way. Beautiful, stunning, exquisite…I could go on and on.

Honestly, I would’ve been ‘whateves’ about Ljubljana in my ragin’ shithead twenties…but now as a balding forty-something (who wouldn’t know how to party if I tripped into one)…this place is perfect for my current lame-o life stage. And if that’s you as well then keep reading…

Ljubljana is a wonderful weekend getaway for mature couples who want to get properly dressed up*, and go have nice / long dinners in the evenings followed by romantic river-side strolls. Lastly, I haven’t hyperlinked any recommendations ‘cause I want you to go to Ljubljana, make your own discoveries, and have your mind absolutely blown.

*To readers who are North American men-who-dress-like-tweens, this means no ‘sneakers with trousers’ while dining in Ljubljana…which is an abomination on any continent, nahmean?. Like, if you’re in Europe…do dress age-appropriate like the Europeans do!

FIELD NOTES: ZÜRICH, SWITZERLAND

It’s franc’ly quite sophisticated

I’m no gymnast…but I sure do slip and slide through life doing accidental backwards somersaults into the weirdest of spaces and places (where my DIY punk self absolutely does not belong). Yes, because of previous jobs — or because of serendipity — or because I’m a legitimate oddity that certain social planners recognize as a good guest to throw into the mix (like, to spice things up as a tap-dancing, storytelling chimp). Basically, I’ve been around a lot of rich people…and the newly minted ones got nada on the old money ones. Like, I don’t care how the bank account balances stack up and compare…it’s nowhere close when it comes to comportment.

The blunt force Valentino-clad former is reliably obnoxious ala bling-y flaunt cash-flush fool; always boasting (with no discretion whatsoever) whereas the latter is always staid, sharp, and sophisticated (where you barely notice the Brunello Cucinelli sports coat 'cause it looks that J. Crew). Hopefully, you don’t need me to tell you which one Zürich is…but it’s the formal one, the one with the impeccable manners, the one who is learned and knows lots about many things, the one who doesn’t outwardly judge (because frumpy doesn’t necessarily mean broke…it can be billionaire), and the one that makes all conversations — and experiences — about you rather than them (so as to ascertain your actual value without ever having to inquire, let alone risk offending you).

And Switzerland is expensive — especially in these parts — and I knew this going in ‘cause my Father worked in Geneva when I was a boy (when we lived across the border in France), and ‘cause I have extended Swiss family today. Truthfully, I can’t afford to go to these types of places too often — I’m just not in that income bracket / can’t hang too long with the wealthy ‘cause I’m too pleb in the slim range of topics I can confidently speak about — but I do like an occasional safari to check out their world as well as its workings. Yes, it’s a rinse on the finances…but the cost of admission is worth it; you meet people you never thought you would, and you see irregular things with frequency…which — in your regular life — happen with as much regularity as a once-in-a-lifetime UFO sighting.

Basically, I didn’t go to Zürich to do anything other than marathon as a free-wheeling flâneur. Plus, it’s not like I could afford to do anything…like, even if I wanted to. But here, it doesn’t matter…because the funny thing about old money places is that reputation is the most valuable currency. And it’ll seem counterintuitive to read, but if you’re hanging around somewhere monied you really don’t belong in (while being respectful and/or showing great interest in something)…it’s more than likely that someone — who deserves to be there, and that is there —will engage you (or invite you over)…because rudeness risks undermining a future opportunity (and no true dealmaker is ever that reckless). And don’t get me wrong, I’m not trespassing (i.e. getting arrested for anything on this project would be a nightmare), more so…it’s just me hanging ‘round the perimeter — where I quietly study a car or an artwork — and become irresistible to anyone that’s trying to decode what my deal is.

So in Zürich, I cruised around the Zürichsee chatting with Schweiz swimmers and did pilgrimages to the beacons of intelligence this place has long been known for; like the Pavillon Le Corbusier, the Jung House, and the revived Cabaret Voltaire (being the spiritual home of Dadaism). But I also kept it street and low-brow, so District 5 has the thoughtful boutiques for you to check out, and Langstrasse has the grime. Really though, it’s about farting around the private galleries here — which, because the place has so much money — are like micro museum after micro museum (so I saw Araki, but was too late for Self). I even toyed with going to the Lindt Museum (because this bad gurl loves her dark chockie…and because the museum has a towering chocolate fountain) but I’m still recovering from my recent ‘boomer torture’ experience on my guided tours in Bucharest…so it was a ‘pass’ (which my sweet tooth won’t ever let me forget…especially ‘cause the museum has a factory outlet store…which prolly doesn’t mean much in terms of discount ‘cause this is Switzerland after all).

Anyhoo, Zürich is nice — but isn’t physically flashy the way other parts of Europe are — so it’s a tough one to recommend (especially because it is cost prohibitive). However, when I was there I just so happened to be given a one-on-one privé tour of the Monocle office (pictured below) as well as meet the founder of one of my all-time favourite publishers (his store is an essential visit for printed matter fans). And those priceless interactions — for me — make expensive Zürich a fair bargain as a place to visit.

FIELD NOTES: LIECHTENSTEIN

Bucolic from afar…but big business up-close

The plan was to take a day trip from Switzerland to Liechtenstein…sorta like my recent day trip from Vienna to Bratislava. While the train ride to Lichtenstein was slightly longer in terms of kilometres…both trips took about an hour. However, the return fare trip to Bratislava was $32.32 USD whereas the return fare trip to Liechtenstein was $75.94 USD…being quite the mark-up for a small country that’s home to just 38,000 ish people (but not surprising since the principality uses the Swiss franc…complete with requisite Swiss-styled FU pricing, LOL).

Anyhoo, I train’d to Sargans, Switzerland to marathon across the Rhine River / unmanned border into Liechtenstein so I could do a big counter-clockwise loop up through the ‘Stein and back into the Schweiz. And I did this to do this…like, not to go see anything in particular…because there is no need.

Basically, this part of the world is a Ricola stereotype. And when I exited the train station, I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or smile…because I had been transported to a sensorial paradise; seeing an endless sloping green valley surrounded by cloud-piercing mountains, and hearing the tinny, timeless, and off-time xylophonic kling-klong-klang of bells on cows in the fields as well as on the hills.

And I don’t really know what else to say? It was chill to the Nth degree and ‘everything nature’ there was better than anything human made…and this was like the vibey-ist marathon I’ve done since marathoning the Galápagos last spring.

Normally, my ‘field notes’ are for a city ‘cause that’s the anchor and/or the playground for a marathon…but the country of Liechtenstein is only 160 km² in size. Like, it is barely there…it’s just a small blip with high rocky ranges. And for context…the city of Toronto is 630 km² in size. So these ‘field notes’ are for the country…and there’s not much to report. And I don’t mean for the sound asshole-ish ‘cause it isn’t; do indeed visit for the first-class beauty of it all.

Yes, there’s a little capital (i.e. Vaduz…which is about three kilometres long from tip to tail) as well as some churches and castles in the area…but I think it’s fair to say all of it is secondary to the heavenly hiking in these parts. But, if you insist on a hyperlink, this place roasts and brews great coffee…like, if you can swallow paying $9 USD for a thimble-sized latte (look, it’s just how it goes here).

The funny thing is, when marathoning these parts…a tiny town will come into view in the distance and you think to yourself, “Yum! Hit me with a quaint little village”…but when you arrive there, it is nothing but compact modern buildings…discretely marked with the names of private banks and private investment funds you’ve never heard of…with like five Bentleys and Bugattis parked out front.

I would like to say it is disappointing, but it’s sorta hilarious (ala sooo incongruous with the landscape). Basically, Liechtenstein (e.g. tax haven) has some of the lowest corporate tax rates in the world / does not have a tax treaty with the United States…so do the math / no need to calculate how it has achieved one of world’s highest standards of living (with breakneck speed since the end of WWII).

Anyhoo, one thing that surprised me about Liechtenstein (as well as Zürich) is that despite all the baller-ass whips (e.g. Lambos, ‘Raris, etc.), locals have an obsessive love of old American cars (specifically first generation Ford Mustangs)…and I have no clue why. Like, I don’t care much for cars (I appreciate them as feats of engineering / think some look cool…but no car ever gives me a boner). As such, I sorta went ‘car blind’ to all the fancy whips in this part of the world (because you see a modern $200,000+ car every two seconds). However, the Mustangs always caught my eye because they clash with the Germanic architecture. And the shape and colour of one olden Opel (pictured above) really caught my eye…and piqued my interest ‘cause I’ve never heard of that automobile manufacturer before (and have since learned it is German).

I deeply enjoyed my marathon of Liechtenstein ‘cause of the scenery…but you ever go to a place and wish you could have visited it at some earlier point in time? Yeah, that’s Liechtenstein for me…I would’ve loved to have seen it 100 years ago…because my fave parts were the old fragments; the wooden houses with the gabled roofs / anything in the Swiss chalet style (some homes on the other side of the river in Switzerland were dated to 1570), the old farmers doing things the old way, and the mini cathedral with the pew ends decorated with dried things from farm fields (which farmers were actively praying near). And thank God — not for the harvest per se (although I hope it’s a good one) — but for me already being in shorts…because this part of the world will charm anyone’s pants off!

BEST LOCAL THING-Y

Even if this meal tasted like dog shit parboiled inside of a sun-bleached roadkill possum, my cheap-ass would’ve still insisted it was the best local thing-y I ate this week because…get ready for it…this single plate…which I plated myself at a fucking buffet…cost me $46.18 USD. No, not a typo. And yes, I’ll wait a few seconds to let you read that number again…as you cross-reference the image above.

So what gives? Well, firstly Zürich (take what you’d normally be prepared to pay and 2x it if you’re from a city or 4x it if you’re from a place that doesn’t frown on inbreeding)…and secondly, novelty (which did prove to be legit).

Okay, okay…so I ate at Haus Hiltl…which at 125 years old, is considered the oldest vegetarian restaurant in the world (at least according to the Guinness World Records). Anyhoo, it was founded in 1898 as the 'Vegetarierheim & Abstinenzcafé’ — by the Hiltl family aka some boring, no fun losers — and is a fourth generation hoity-toity family business today.

And yes, it checked out (financially and in terms of satisfaction)! Me? I helped myself to some lightly pickled, mandoline-sliced kohlrabi that were snuggling with some finely diced chilies (which I put a dollop of aioli on), I had some oven-roasted rosemary fingerling potatoes topped with a creamy mushroom gravy, some slow roasted beets / carrots / parsnips on brown rice, some egg salad, and a herby tomato and seitan salad.

All of it was vegan — and the most expensive thing I’ve eaten all year — but I had my ‘175th marathon milestone’ to celebrate…and no one to celebrate it with…so I put on my finest / stinkiest clothes, stapled a toupee to my bald-ass noggin’, put on some lipstick, and took this sassy lil broad to flavour town!

POBJOY'S GLOBAL PRICE INDEX

This is an on-going documentation of how much things cost in different places around the world. Here are some of the things I bought in Ljubljana, Zürich, and Liechtenstein (all prices converted to USD):

• Sandwich gear ala two small bread rolls, two 80 gram packs of veggie meat deli slices, a 100 gram box of lambs lettuce, and a 190 gram ‘bio rastlinski namaz s hrenom in jabolki’ spread from a grocery store in Ljubljana: $6.15

• Two 68 gram Clif bars and a 1.5 litre bottle of Evian water from a gas station in Zurich: $10.16

• Two vegan schnitzel cutlets and a 500 millilitre bottle of Coke Zero from a gas station in Liechtenstein: $7.07

MARATHON MUSINGS

On marvelling at how the Europeans broadly live and age

Here’s the skinny on my last decade: I shape shifted from having a full head of hair on a sedentary / morbidly obese body to having an ever-balding head atop an active body that’s 100 lbs lighter today. As such, I’ve known both ends of the wellness spectrum…as I continually navigate the aches and pains of becoming an old fart.

I believe that my ‘body transformation’ is my secret sauce when it comes to empathy. Basically, I have lived two lives — in two different bodies — as two very different people. As such, I can relate to anyone at any stage of their wellness journey (especially non-starters). And because I’ve been at both ends of the spectrum, I can also speak to some tough truths…based on the truths of my multi-faceted, no-bullshiting-you lived experience(s).

Basically, I was once a sickly person — because I chose it as a lifestyle — and I never got pushback…because North American society / culture has broadly ‘outsourced movement’ (shout-out to Katy Bowman for introducing me to this concept of hers), and because North Americans love quick fixes (of symptoms…rather than actually confronting causes / causation which can be a long and physically demanding process to undo and resolve). Furthermore, us North Americans exist alongside some powerful corporations with outsized cultural influence that profit from sedentariness and illness…and ‘sick’ is big business for them (so these forces are motivated — as well as incentivized — to keep us in the sales funnel…and do so by constantly signalling to us that it’s fine to take the car — or the magic pills — and just fuhgeddaboudit).

However, I’m not here to sound-off like a born-again-back-to-baseline-body moralizer nor harp on about problems (neither are constructive). Rather, I’m here to share — and dissect — some truly glorious things Europe and Europeans have broadly demonstrated to me this year (as I have shuttled back and forth between North America and Europa). Like, my 2023 travel schedule has enabled me to ‘compare and contrast’ two sample groups in their respective environments…and because my travel schedule has seen me go ‘back and forth’ between these two continents, I have been able to reset in-between and return to both places with fresh senses (from which to make new observations).

Now, much of what I’ll be sharing are no-brainer observations…but I do think there are some fascinating nuggets herein that warrant greater consideration on our part (like if you live in North America).

Basically, I have generally observed that Europeans live in tight / multi-levelled / non-smooth environments that demand bipedal movement...in places of superior pro-pedestrian urban design (being a modern development)...which collectively yields active / fitter people (especially the elderly who remain unbelievably mobile — ergo capable — well into their later years).

And us North Americans in North America? Broadly speaking…it’s the complete opposite. And I won’t drag us for this; because the issue has as much to do with a lack of self-agency as it does with the nefarious design of our cities / society / culture.

But before I proceed, I want to share some caveats with you…so you don’t kick my teeth in: 1) My generalizations are generalizations…so take ‘em with a pinch of salt / there can be exceptions to anything / as a bad boi I love dramatic effect 2) I won’t ever glorify thinness because any hero or heroine can achieve said lewk by shooting heroin…so thin isn’t necessarily a marker of good health 3) I won’t ever romanticize elders skinny’d by work who have to physically labour well into their later years outta necessity to earn a livelihood (because that is an indication of a failure on the part of a society, its bogus values, and its deranged economic conditions / ideologies that work people through non-retirement into death).

So…North America…it is an expansive landmass that is full of young and sprawling cities that are mostly built atop flat-ish terrain. Here, we prioritize cars and therefore pave nearly everything smooth. Furthermore, we’re culturally obsessed with productivity and expediency. As such, our approach to urbanism is defined by designs / design thinking that mitigates inefficiencies and impediments. Overall, it’s pretty damn comfortable and convenient. And fuck farming and food…Uber Eats me a burrito now because I wanted it five seconds ago / it’ll arrive in five minutes.

Europe? Here, it feels like every stony / crumbly city is forty trillion years old…built on some ungodly slope…with tight and winding streets originally made to accommodate horse carts…where the sidewalks — like if they even exist — are uneven cobblestones…and where you’re gonna be confronted by lots of uneven staircases daily (be they worn slab-y ones outdoors used to cut through town OR the wobbly wooden ones inside the building which you’ll ascend like a mountain climber to reach your 147th storey “walk-up” flat). Overall, it’s pretty damn uncomfortable and inconvenient.

The modern North American city respects your time / works for you…as well as works for your complete independence and autonomy (but to the greater detriment of your physical health…unless you isolate / budget exclusive time for exercise) whereas the prehistoric European city has seemingly complete disregard for your time / works against you…but hardwires cardiovascular exercise into the fabric of your daily life (to the greater benefit of your physical health). Yes, I’m being a tad exaggerative to land a point. And yes, European cities have modern amenities like better public transit and excellent pedestrian paths (and IMO a more authentic, citizen-focused social contract…but that’s a subject for another day).

What I’m basically getting at, is that Europeans in Europe regularly move themselves by foot (daily…and multiple times a day…and while lugging dynamic loads…being another Katy Bowman-ism). It is the historical tradition — and hallmark — of the physical culture here. And yes, it is sometimes necessitated by these ramshackle places being less economically developed (I’m sure many would love a ride / not want to haul groceries by foot and hand)…but I’d argue from the outside looking in that Europeans are richer for it because they move more and are thus healthier (which to me is an under-celebrated marker of wealth…y’know…health and being alive…and like being a physically functional human being).

Sure, I bet some of the European elders would love walkers and wheelchairs and mobility-assistance scooters…but good luck maneuvering those mofos over the cobblestones / hoisting them up to your elevator-less flat. And, of course, I’m sure there are mobility-impaired, housebound people in Europe that I don’t see…because they are inside while I’m outside…and their lives could be potentially tougher than their North American counterparts.

That said, each and every day I see some 242 year-old European geezer strolling and stair casing as well as lifting and limbering themselves through a challenging environment — seemingly fine with it as they stop to chat with their mates along the way — all being a gauntlet that’d make most North Americans a quarter of that old dude’s age either huff-and-puff or tap-out. Like, I see the latter exhibited by foreigners all the time here in Europe.

Us North Americans — in comparison — just majorly erred in our widespread adoption of the drivable city with its immediacies and conveniences…which is a different entity than a livable or walkable city (which admittedly requires a tad more time and effort, and contains some obstacles).

And culturally, it is what it is; young North Americans riding upright on those trendy electric scooters — across smooth and easy surfaces to get everywhere faster — as preparation for the seated eventuality of needing mobility-assistance scooters as possibly brittle / range of motion impaired senior citizens one day (like, if they side-step the biomechanical need to physically step through life…over the course of their lifetimes)

It’s a total aside…but I pester my wife all the time about my genuine desire to permanently move us to Europe. I think she thinks it’s ‘cause I’m an arty-farty soy boy who wants to be closer to the creative action and the grub.

Yes, sorta.

But mostly it’s because I’m becoming an old fart, and have identified where I can age gracefully (and be continually nudged by the environment — as well as the culture — to move my body).

It’s not convenient…and that’s the point.

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