On my way out of town, I dropped in at Studio 540 again. It helps if I’m drunk, much like my dancing. I can speak Spanish, but only kitchen Spanish, which involves much discussion of lechuga and who’s sister is the town bicycle. Maybe it’s because he’s short and bald and on the wrong side of fifty, but I feel like we have much in common.
#JEFF HIGGS BJJ HOW TO#
It’s only been open a short while, but he’s the best dude and knows how to teach. Also, it wouldn’t be modern media if I didn’t ask you to like him on Facebook too. I had a good session with Joao at Ribeiro in Carlsbad, and said good bye. Scroll down 4 paragraphs if you’re not a fan. Yes, there is an outside of Hemet.įirst, the Jiu Jitsu. Jen started sending pictures and videos out, and I picked here up at a trail crossing somewhere outside of Hemet. There won’t be as much BJJ in this blog, so hopefully you’ll be okay with that. I dropped out of university over a year ago to follow my passion and seeing this trip come together, already going beyond my wildest dreams, confirms that this is all worth it.Ī word of warning here. Back home I had the chance to train consistently, getting slowly better like I’ve done for almost 9 years of martial arts but that wasnt enough. I always want to keep on challenging myself, following my own dreams and ideas. I started this trip to challenge myself, at the time it was the hardest choice I had in front of me, going off the beaten path. I am happy to be starting a new chapter in my travels, even though I still haven’t accepted this as the new norm. Each adventure had become less and less exciting and I caught myself missing things back home that I didn’t think I would miss, cakes and skyr for example.
That backpacking lifestyle where each day was an new adventure had become my norm. For the last two months I have gotten used to standing on my own feet, only with my backpack and not speaking a word in Spanish. I knew that the Caribbean would be completely different then my trip through Central America. I probably looked like some red haired viking who missed the note that pirates belong in the Caribbean not vikings. Then there was me, hung over Icelander, still pale compared to everybody, ruffled hair and the scruffiest beard I’ve had in my life, travelling out of a backpack haircut is not high on the priority list. Everybody on the plane was either well an dressed Panamanian or an American tourist in a Hawaii shirt, everybody going on a nice vacation. When I got aboard the airplane I soon realised I didn’t fit in. Of course when I found a rooftop party I had found some good company and I thought that you don’t get many chances like this, so I’d better use it. He had done the same, getting quite the reaction, before going to El Salvador where I last met him. I could only blame myself though, I had gotten this idea that it would be funny posting a picture of myself at rooftop party in Panama City before going and meeting up with Christian in the Caribbean. I was exhausted after only getting 3 hours of sleep in the night, it wasn’t even 3 hours of good sleep. This morning I found myself shuffling my feet like a zombie through the airport in Saint Martin.
0 kommentar(er)
