'When Joseph wanted to bring a cow from Bangkok to Vienna.'

By Dorina Catherina Reichel

The World seems small when you look at it on a map, but when you actually go out there to explore it, you can see its real beauty and size. This is a story of a young girl that travels around the world, on her own for 1,5 years. On her way she bumps into adventures, dangerous situations, amazing friendships and great love stories. She meets strange people and gets into difficult situations but she also experiences real love and true friendships and there is always help when she need it. Her personality grows on the way and she becomes a more vivid person. Is this just another boring travel diary!? The author asks the reader in the beginning. The reader will have to find out by her/himself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dorina Catherina Reichel
• Release date: Jun 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301230181

Dorina Catherina Reichel

Who am I? Good question. I am Dorina, a girl, well travelled. I like to speak and learn new languages and life styles. I would like to influence my readers to become more confident about their dreams and also live them. And I would like to encourage everyone to speak whats on her/his mind and be authentical and true.

Book preview

Preface

Once upon a time there was a 25-year-old girl who travelled the world without a clue of the dimensions she would reach, see, feel, hear, live and breathe.

I tell the story of a journey around the world in short episodes, which should reflect my adventures and the things I have learned along the way. My friend Maggie comments on it.

I had a budget of 500 Euro/month and a lot of old and new friends that offered me to stay at their homes or do some little jobs in exchange. Sometimes I didn’t have enough money to buy a lot but most of the time I felt so rich because I had all the time I wanted. I had a Round the World ticket that made it possible to afford so many flights. I visited 4 continents and travelled through 10 countries in 1,5 years.

On my way I met a lot of different people, lived many different lives and experienced many new things that some people asked me to share in little stories with others. I also wanted to show that running into problems doesn’t mean the end of the journey but the actual beginning. Problems such as visa issues, your credit cards getting lost or stolen, etc is not the end of the world. And of course you meet dangerous strangers or pass scary moments but all that is part of life, forms part of your personal journey. Leaving your life behind seems to be a big loss of security and it is but at the same time it is a big gain of freedom, not to be dependent on anything but yourself is the only way to grow.

(Maggie: „I feel like your story could really give some confidence to a potential traveler and push them to take the risk because of all the potential excitement, growth, love, happiness in store .. „)

I have chaptered the book by song titles. Because music was my true companion, which travelled with me all the way, whenever I felt lonely or lost, music never left me.

…He took me out on my last night for a real steak (I hadn’t eaten proper food since a while) and asked me, what is your motivation to write this book?

Well, I said, to show people that even a young girl with not much money in her pocket but always with a smile on her face can travel the world. That there is always help when you need it and that nothing is impossible if you just believe in it!...

Thanks to Maggie, my family, all the beautiful and horrible people I met on this trip!

New York

(M: „Your first stop – Cool I am so excited I have never been there, lets experience New York with you!")

Hier sitze ich im Landeanflug auf New York und mache mir ernsthaft Gedanken wie sehr mir Leidenschaft fehlt. Leidenschaft dieses Wort beinhaltet förmlich alles Leiden. Oh ich wünsche mir ein Leben mit viel Leidenschaft aber ohne dass es weh tut, so, dass man am Liebsten sein Herz nehmen würde und es in tausend Stücke zerreißen. So sehr muss man leiden oder lieben. Warum heißt Liebe nur Liebe und nicht Leidensliebe und hier kommen wir zum springenden oder sogar hüpfenden Punkt. Liebe ein wahr so herrliches Wort kein Deut von Leiden. Und da höre ich auch schon wieder auf mit dem Selbstmitleid, schon wieder ein Wort mit Leid. Ich komm von dem leidigen Thema wohl nicht mehr weg. Da sitz’ ich nun und schreibe und mache mir ernsthaft Gedanken übers Leben, obwohl ich bald so wenig – ja und genau in diesem Moment wo ich anfange an das Thema zu denken, stocken mir die Worte. So sehr hemmt, beklemmt und stopft und rupft und gupft es mich. Ach könnt die Welt nur voller Rosenblätter sein, die alle herrlich duften und in der Welt herum fliegen, so wie ich heute, na gut die Welt ist übertrieben! Aber in meiner kleinen Welt halt. Ach wie sehr bedrückt mich der Gedanke ob ich ihm schreiben sollte. Denn sind meine Gedanken nicht viel zu wertvoll für andere, könnten sie ihm aber doch helfen oder nur behindern ihn sogar verhindern? Oder will ich einfach nur leiden? Schon wieder dieses Wort!

Schluss mit Leiden Anfang mit Lieben und senden all das Gute in die Welt! Denn wie sagte ich gestern zu dem Taxifahrer, es gibt keine einzige Wahrheit, es gibt nur Deine eigene Wahrheit, denn Du allein bestimmst sie für Dich!

Und da fällt mir schon wieder was schönes ein, fallen übrigens mit doppel ll, das hab ich Legistenikerin oder wie auch immer das heißt wo man alle Buchstaben verunzelt ah verwechselt, genau das wars Gedanken sind ein Geschenk, denn sie gehören nur Dir ganz alleine bis Du sie mit jemandem teilst.

Na bin ich aber froh dass ich jetzt aus dem Selbstmitleid rausgekommen bin. Das kann ich doch nicht als letztes Wort so stehen lassen.

Denn die Liebe hat so viele Gesichter... *

* That’s where I am at the moment. I am sitting on a plane landing in New York. And I can’t stop thinking about how much I miss the emotion called passion. Passion, this word contains almost all sorrow. Oh I wish there would be life without sorrow and instead more passion. Passion without pain, only love could fight against all pain suffered from passion. Too much do we have to suffer because of love. Why isn’t there another word for love? What about pain love for example? This might be a turning point right now.

Love what a fine word without any hint of pain or sorrow!

I have to stop with all the self-pity, again a word within sorrow. I can’t resist that sorrowful topic.

Here I am again, thinking about life – yes and exactly in this moment words seem so useless to me and I can’t go on with what I was going to say. It inhibits me, stops me, hampers and hinders me. Why isn’t the world full of leafs? Leafs smelling like roses and floating in the air. I still consider him to write. But I am not sure, as if my thoughts couldn’t be too worthwhile for him? Could they help him? Or do I simply want to feel sorrow? This word again!

Stop the pain and sorrow and start to love and spread it all out! As I said to the taxidriver yesterday: "There is no other truth than your own truth, because it is to be only determined by you!

... - This is what I meant; thoughts are a present, because you and only yourself own them until you share them with somebody else.

God, I am happy I found a way out of all that sorrow and self-pity.

Because love has so many faces...

(M: Who is this guy you are talking about? Sounds like the love of your life or an ex-boyfriend you are not over yet?! Funny that you start to write in german, probably because you are austrian :))

Rent – Take me or leave me

First day in New York and I am feeling good!

I had a brilliant start. Already at the airport terminal I started talking to someone from Ecuador. When I had found out that my friend Glorietta (a friend from early childhood, I was going to stay with her for some time) would live in a penthouse of a hotel close to Central park and one avenue away from Fifths Avenue, I knew this was exactly what I was looking for. (M: Why were you looking for this?!?! Isn’t 5th ave for the rich and the famous? Ah , I get it you were looking for an adventure for something different!)

After I arrived, we went to have a glass of wine on one of the top locations in the city. We were drinking our wine on a beautiful rooftop with a wide view on the whole city of Manhattan. It was four o’clock in the morning and still I wasn’t tired. No jetlag for this trip – juhu. The people seemed to be very nice but a bit cool on the other hand; probably is not quite unusual when you think of people from a big city. The following day we spent at the Central Park. It was Sunday by the way and we were having a picnic with some of Glorietta’s colleagues from Uni. There was a guy from Taiwan, he was raised up in Costa Rica and the States, he had studied in Geneva and now did a Master in New York. What a mixture – what an exciting life story!

New York seemed to be full of good-looking boys, but no chances to even talk to them. They only pass by on the street.

Sometimes I ask myself, do I kill time, only in order to not feel controlled by it? What a ridiculous thought.

I am on the way to the Guggenheim museum and I am having a very short break. Can you imagine, already 3 people have asked me something on the street (proud!). One of them was an English guy from the party last night, what a coincidence. The second one was an American dog sitter, just a few minutes ago. I reckon he wanted to flirt with me. It was a very funny way to flirt with me. He said: Excuse me. Have you noticed that I couldn’t resist looking at you twice?.

What a pity that right in that particular moment I was listening to music, so I couldn’t understand him at first! After the third try I understood. He was not my type at all but so much courage needed to be honoured! I gave him my number. And then there was a lady asking me for the right direction. I seemed to be a girl from New York already! Better I keep on walking fancy New York girl ;).

When I reached the Guggenheim Museum, I bumped into a very interesting but shocking piece of art: Enrico Pompelino’s self-portrait. I guess Enrico had a, lets call it, different image of himself. He seemed so filled up with love in his tummy all in red. But then his head was all very blue and appeared so heavy to me. Maybe he thinks too much. And the part of his body underneath his tummy was also missing. I guess he may have had some dramatic sexual experiences in his life ;).

Wandering around all lost in my thoughts I almost missed my favourite art piece of Picasso: the lady with the yellow hair!

Tom Novy – I rock

It rains. The first two days were all sunny and now!

Actually I have to mention that I do quite well in being alone (Glorietta has to study).

I had to stop at a little café because it was raining so much. I met a nice Swedish girl. (M: "In doing alone!!!)

Okay not completely alone but I mean wandering around alone. We exchanged numbers, she (the Swedish girl) just arrived in New York a week ago and works in the Swedish coffee shop. I enjoy meeting people who must feel the same like me. I already got lost a few times and was brave enough to ask policemen for the way (I usually get aggressive with authorities).

And ask me where you can buy the cheapest Broadway tickets! I also know. I wanted to head to the Moma. But it was closed, same as the Met. But I managed to see some parts of the exhibition because I sneaked in doing a little side trip to the toilet. HA!

I have to bring up that Fifths Avenue is a stage. And since a young guy walking by smiled at me, my hormones play soccer again! (M: Haha, nice description!)

Maybe I should consider going to the cinema alone, could be a new experience.

Glorietta has to study anyway; she wouldn’t even care where I was. What a pity that the nice Taiwanese guy hasn’t called!

Everything is so humid here I would like to sit down somewhere. What a wonder, in all of busy New York, I find a place full of silence. A bit wet though but silent! Only a few people are hanging around here, it is green and silent. Unbelievable?!

All day long my brain is full of so many different things. I imagine how random people could be. I also smell my way through the city. I reckon American guys seem to wear similar perfumes as European men. Maybe I will do a trip with the naked bus tomorrow. (M: What is the naked bus? Is everyone naked on a bus? You mean the open air bus – what a funny thought a bus full of naked people…)

In the morning the whole city is covered with fog and clouds that seem different to the morning clouds in Vienna, I have noticed that all the clouds around the world look different in a way, you should check.

Maybe I should get rid of this enormous pressure of meeting somebody, be by myself and listen to my thoughts. (M: Interesting … a common experience of many travellers I would assume…)

I forgot to mention that I went to FAO Schwarz, which is the coolest shop in the world. It is full of toys! And I know someone that gets completely lost in here everytime she gets the chance to go!

Xavier Naidoo – Geh davon aus daß mein Herz bricht

Can you tell me what I can do with the restlessness that lives in my heart? I am asking myself where the silence and peace is gone that once lived in my soul? Let us assume that our heart breaks! Well mine is broken, still and pretty much. - I have to take it back, the clouds appear bigger than in Vienna. - Oh where is the light! I can’t see. I always wanted to be a philosopher and a poet. I wanted to float through life with a boat powered by words. Dream away and enjoy every second of life.

In this moment a song pops up on my Ipod: Sie sieht mich einfach nicht! *„She can’t see me!". Xavier Naidoo sings about the beauty of a girl, when a beautiful dog walks by. Such is life! I think to myself.

It still makes me sad when I talk to him in my mind and spend time thinking of him. (M: Ah so it’s all about a guy – maybe the one from the beginning..)

(He doesn’t deserve that much attention especially after the last phone call that we had the night before I left for my Round-the-World-trip. Do I have to confess myself that the motivation to do such a big trip was to give him a phone call the night before departure? Could have been a simply phone call after a year of sorrow and pain, the only reason and motivation to tell him: I am leaving for a trip around the world tomorrow. And what are your plans for the future!? (M: Very honest … :))

Why isn’t the world full of leafs? Leafs smelling like roses and floating in the air. (M: I already saw this sentence in a footnote above – Oh it was the poem from the begining.)

Maybe the challenge was to heavy for me and I have to capitulate. Though the word capitulate isn’t part of my personal dictionary.

There is a man with a white, long beard only dressed with a night gown, who is making turns on a pink decorated childrens’ bike. The world feels as if it has turned upside down. Oh my God, the Yogi on the kids’ bike is coming closer. Exactly when I write this sentence...

Khurshid Anwar is his name and he is deaf-mute. Khurshid looks like God in person, a bit controversal on a tiny pink girls’ bicycle though. But i always imagined God as an old hippie :). He is from Turkey, he draws the Turkish flag on my book. He is 60 years old. He doesn’t appear homeless to me. His hands are clean and his nails are very cultivated. He seems happy and authentical. We talked, lets better say we write or communicate for a while. But I have decided to watch a movie. I am looking forward to seeing „La vie en Rose" the original version...

I wonder about the secret of New York and how I had imagined when I was a child that only in New York it would be possible to pace around naked without anyone recognizing you! (M: Really? Haha, how in the world did you come to this image of NYC?)

Everyone seems so busy and apart from each other, nobody would care.

Aretha Franklin – I say a little prayer

I am here almost a week and days pass by faster than I had imagined. I am still with so much energy. After the sweet Swedish girl, the crazy American dogsitter and the holy Turkish guy, I have made more friends. Okay I shouldn’t call the dogsitter a friend, because after our second date! the coffee in the park, he had sent me a funny message on the mobile: I thought you would be a nice girl to go out with, have dinner, a glass of wine and then go home and have great sex. As I can see you are not available, I am not interested anymore.

Wow. I wonder. Amused and shocked at the same time I show Glorietta the message. She answers me: Haven’t I told you, not to talk to strangers! (M: Did you respond to him?)

I was amused about our race – the humans and I didn’t bother more.

Another night we decided to see a show in Harlem. That was indeed one of the funniest evenings in my so far short life!

Glorietta, two friends of hers and I met up to head to Harlem all together. It gave me a strange impression that suddenly we were the only Caucasian people on the train.

Arrived at the theatre I did not get to sit next to everyone else instead my place was on the other side of the room. I was placed in the middle of three big Sisters. I had to squeeze my tummy in, in order to give them space to sit. I felt like a tomato before becoming ketchup. Every time the lady to my left stood up to sing or dance or give the person on stage a big applause, I had to get up as well, imagine ;) .

But at this point I have to confess that I have never laughed so much than on this evening, in my entire life!

My sister to the right had the loudest and best laugh ever. Do you know this kind, when you just have to laugh as well because of how someone else laughs? My evening was perfect when the sister to the right looked at me in the end and said: Get up with us sister!

By the way the others (Glorietta’s friends) didn’t really enjoy it as much as I did, but I honestly didn’t care. I just thanked God for this hilarious evening.

I said goodbye to Glorietta and gave her a warm hug. You never know if and when you meet someone again in life. (M: Yes! All hugs should be like that for that reason!!)

I turn around and my attention flies to a black lady only covered by a black dirt bag, who runs down 58th street. She is running down naked the 58th street in New York City!

I have recognized it, thank you dear universe; I smile and jump onto the train with direction airport! (M: Never say that imaginations or dreams can’t come true!)

Sao Paulo

Tori Amos – Finn

Sao Paulo!

A new day, new morning and a new beginning:

Nick oh Nick, these few sentences are for you!

How sweet can a guy taste, how tart can the skin of his throat smell and how sexy can someone’s intelligence be. I can still feel your smell on me. I can see your lips forming a sweet heart when you build up a smile on them. This strong character and taff will, to succeed what you have dreamed of! You are a sweet dream and a beautiful nightmare.

Buenos Aires and Uruguay

Mano Negra – Mala vida

It’s Sunday again and I am in Buenos Aires already for a week. Surprisingly this city is not one of my favourites. The men are more than beautiful but incredibly arrogant. The women are not. Sorry to say that. I hopefully don’t offend anyone but the girls are less feminine than aliens in lingerie. (M: What is lingerie? Oh a sexy underwear thingi!)

What has happened so far in a short review?:

Nick, the intelligent Greek guy from New York I had an amazing movie-like affair with over the roofs of New York, hasn’t texted me anything. (M: That was the affair you had in New York, right but you write about hin in Sao Paulo, did not leave your head that fast that guy, he?!) What a pity!

I have texted the guy who has given me his t-shirt before leaving Austria, in order to have something with me that smells like him. I said I would need a new T-shirt of him because the smell wouldn’t be on it anymore. Maybe he could come and bring me a new one! Humour is the last thing to lose before hope dies ! Isn’t it?

That reminds me, when I seriously thought about taking or steeling a T-shirt of every guy I would like on this trip. Wouldn’t that be totally insane to come back with a luggage full of (or lets better say one or two) used T-Shirts. (M: Hahahahah) Well I guess to laugh about yourself is a great pleasure.

My new friend Jenny here in Buenos Aires, said in these kinds of moments you don’t think about it. You just take the freaking T-Shirt!

It is strange but I can’t fit into my usual form here. After I had arrived, I slept for 48 hours. I had almost vomited on the flight from Sao Paulo to Argentina. I have never slept for so long. I don’t drink alcohol (M: This makes it sounds like you NEVER drink alcohol – be honest babe you like to go out and dance!) and I randomly go out, I spend my days on sightseeing and sneaking into art galleries.

At the moment I am sitting on the floor of the harbour-waiting hall. Bob is with me, a guy from Chile, who I had met in my hostel, where I am staying. Bob is very nice, but his Deodorant is way too strong for me. We are heading to Uruguay for a few days. But the boat is not arriving. Everyone sits next to each other on the floor. I hear the boat coming. I have to stop writing for a second, if not I get sick again…

Manu Chao – Clandestino

We cross the Rio de la Plata and look back on a beautiful, warm and sunny day in a small old town next to the sea. The most beautiful place to look over the city is definitely the famous lighthouse.

My companion (my little friend the dolphin, who is travelling with me needed to breathe some fresh air again. He was so happy to feel some seawater.

Buenos Aires had some bad vibes that I didn’t want to connect with. Though very interesting and exciting things had happened the last weeks. 10 days ago, after I had found one of the hostels, an Argentinean friend of mine from back home, had recommended me. I met my roommate Jenny. Jenny was a 40-year-old Chilean actress, whose body and face looked younger than me. She was a lady whose respect I had to fight for at first stage. She reminded me of my best friend from school, who had been a dangerous lion when I first bumped into her and transformed into a sweet pussycat in the end. (M: I like that, nice way to describe the meeting!!!)

Manu Chao – Bongo Bong

I had been running up and down the city when I suddenly discovered a tiny art gallery. I could see an open door. Carefully I walked inside. There was no one there. I had a look around. I was still the only person. I saw this beautiful picture of a love couple of two pink Mickey mice, who kissed each other. I immediately fell in love with the piece of art. Actually, it was the only one I liked. Suddenly I turned right and a lady was next to me.

Ese cuadro es el que mas me gusta! *„This picture that I like the most! I told this lady. She smiled and said: Verdad? Esto es mio. *„Yes and this is mine.

She handed me an invitation for an exhibition the same afternoon. I took the invitation, said goodbye and walked back to the hostel.

When I was back home, checking my emails, a kiwi guy started talking to me. He seemed a bit awkward but I was happy to have somebody to ask to go to the exhibition tonight. After a few minutes of afford he agreed to come with me. The only problem was that I had lost the invitation with the address. My memory for names is a nightmare. Following my intuition we actually found the right street but no gallery there. We had been running around Palermo (the new art area of Buenos Aires) for an hour without any success. The moment we wanted to turn around and walk back, I saw the entrance of a gallery on the corner.

When we walked inside, I felt all the attention on us. I guess I have learned by travelling that people just like to look at each other. I am the same; I enjoy watching other people.

There is Solange, the lady who invited me this afternoon. She recognized me. I am so hungry I can’t even enjoy all the art pieces because my tummy is constantly talking to me. I imagine biting into a big Schnitzel from home. While I am dreaming the friends of Solange decide to have dinner somewhere and invite us to join them. They want to show the kiwi guy and me a very typical neighbourhood restaurant.

After some walking we stop in front of a corner. The wall of the building is full of graffiti and there is no sign or anything outside. When we enter the door, the kiwi guy whispers in my ears: That doesn’t look like a good place to eat!

It smells good and the restaurant is full of local people, this is the best sign to tell the quality of a restaurant from my point of view. The people sit in between ping-pong tables and in the middle of the room there is a barbecue. We sit down on a big table and order some drinks. This situation reminded me a bit of my student life in Seville a few years ago. I ask for the most typical meal and order an una milanesa ternera. How could I know what that is, I figured some kind of meat probably. The moment I see the meal, I start laughing, I am almost crying. I can’t stop laughing while the others are watching me. They stare at me thinking these Austrians seem to be a bit weird. I try to say: Dios míos, esto es un Schnitzel! Es el plato mas tipico austriaco, con que he sonado antes. *„Oh my goodness this is a Schnitzel! This is the national Austrian meal that I have dreamed of before."

I guess the universe sometimes fulfils small wishes immediately!

Mana – Ana

Another morning, I am walking through Buenos Aires to breathe in all the important sights. I stop at an Internet café and get a nice surprise. Katja, a friend from home