Casa Robino

I am not feeling that well meanwhile I am in mz last day of trip in Budapest.
So, taking advantage of the silente house of our host and of her laptop, I am starting collecting e/mails from Casapeople, so that I can keep in touch with all of you.
Surpraisingly, is way more difficult of what I tought. E/mails are somehow hidden, and even more impossible to find are physical adress.
Well, I know we are all sort of nomads with no stable house anywhere, but... How can I send you lightfoot letters if nobody nowadays uses physical adress anymore?

De Spruitjes

13:35 06.08.09
Just back from a bicycle trip to the village of Harmelen, near Utrecht, about 40k south of Amsterdam. 24 hours ago, Kasper and I left, unbeknownst to us, for a marathon bicycle ride. What, do you ask, was so interesting in the quaint village of Harmelen, to entice such a journey.

Up in the mountains watching the fiery red sun set turn in to the black night, illuminated only by a bright ball in the sky, life flashes past your eyes.

Sitting by a beautiful beach, listening to the ocean roar. Realizing how small we are.

In a Casa, somewhere in Amsterdam, eating a dumpster-dived meal, surrounded by those we love, singing, laughing, dancing.

No matter where we are, who we are with, we must recall the The Fifty-third Calypso of Bokononism:

"Oh, a sleeping drunkard,
Up in Central Park,
And a lion-hunter
In the jungle dark,
And a Chinese dentist,