good to the last drop.

'nuff said

Hello casa.

Hello Casa,
Hello to those that I do know, and hello to those that I do not know. I miss you all. Over a year ago I stayed at Casa Robino. Then I was still learning what it was to be a nomad. Today I stand before you a very different person. The Casa made me who I am today through the life that it showed me. I am now very far from the nomad self that I had become. I am once again a student in America, this is my reality. No longer do I measure time by the number of 'thursday night dinners' past, but rather, by the semester.

Keep on Moving

Back since a week! A great place to come back to, casa. The list to explain why is long. I am always surprised to see what changed, and always come back to the same conclusion: it is similar like before, but also different. And this time, it has certainly 'matured'! I am really thankful to all who keep this place moving further...

So, I found this poster just now that I wanted to share, without going sentimental. The text is known by some of you maybe, but the poster I had never seen before. No clue where it comes from, and who made it...

My driver's heart stopped. We are both fine.

I hitched several modes of transport during my time in Croatia: a rusty tractor, a Tito era car without numberplates, a Cadillac with NYC number plates, a leather seat Mercedes, a little fishing boat, a couple of scooters and an old tourist ship.

halfway uphill

"Öğrenci misin? Yok mı? Çalışır mısın? Ne iş yapıyorsun?"

I think there must be a way out of this system. We've already figured out that if work isn't meant to be satisfying or fulfilling, it shouldn't occupy most of our waking lives. So instead, we work sporadic disposable jobs for two-week periods, saying "This was just a means of getting by for the meantime..." Then, what are we really working toward?


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,

Bristol activism

We made it. I have never been more active. Squatted an old church with 3 others, a mate and I figured out how to get in. We did it. Now the hard part setting up a social center. Based on the ideas of sharing and activism with in the community and hopefully reach out to other communities. We have a long road ahead of us, but I will keep the update going.

from little things, big things grow

The casa was my only reason to come to Amsterdam and had a lot to do with why I stayed. For the most part, I was unaware of the fact that I was living in Holland (except for the weather, which kept me grounded). In fact, I was not living in the Netherlands at all; I was living in the casa, whether inside or outside of it. In casa, I could dare to be myself and witness the reflection in others. In casa, I grew a family. In casa, I could travel by means of standing still. Stand still senza stand-by: motionless change, seamless nomadism, boundless voyage.

more magical than usual

Sitting outside a petrol station 60km from Verona, 30km after Trieste, at 530am. Hitching today was crazy. How does it happen that people and events just bring you to places that you never thought of arriving before?

I was picked up by a Dutch guy just before Nuerenberg and 9 hours later we are here in Italy, just 250 km away from my end-destination, but through a totally different route than planned before? And without the planned stop-over in Munich, the city we passed, the city I was unable to enter.