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Omar Ruiz-Diaz currently made an extensive cycling & walking expedition around the world. He wrote more than a dozen diaries about his travel experiences on the road. Adventurer and nomad, Omar took seriously the issue of environment with the slogan: “quality of life means quality of air”. His main motivation is to tell everyone how important it is to use alternative transportation (bus, train or bike) to any urban destination. Also, he petitions the governments to make more bicycle paths in the streets and avenues. The matter is less pollution and noises and more fresh and clean air in the cities. As the trip continues through different countries, he has developed various projects like editing a video documentary, the publication of a book, the design of a new web page and organized a foundation to promote the idea of bicycling worldwide. |
Omar Ruiz-Diaz se encuentra realizando una extensa expedicion, de a pie y de bicicleta, por el Mundo. Ha escrito mas de una docena de diarios de sus experiencias en la carretera. Aventurero y nomada, Omar toma muy en serio los asuntos relacionados con el Medio Ambiente con el slogan 'Calidad de Vida significa Calidad del Aire'. Su principal motivacion es difundir la importancia del uso de los llamados transportes alternativos (bicicleta, bus o tren) para cualquier movilidad urbana. Tambien solicita a las autoridades mas presupuesto para la construccion de infraestructuras que permitan mas ciclovias en las calles y avenidas. La idea es disminuir la polucion de CO2 y el ruido y, mas aire limpio en las ciudades. A medida que sigue su camino por varios paises, el desarrolla varios proyectos como ser la edicion de un documental, la publicacion de un libro, el disenho de una pagina web y la ayuda a organizar una Fundacion que promueva la cultura ciclista alrrededor del Mundo. |
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| Saturday, February 4th. 2012. Maria and Jose arrived on time. « It was not easy to get here », he confessed me hours later. The house where I live now (Herdade da Estacada Farmhouse Hotel), has no good signaling especially from the paved road nearly a mile away. We left shortly after noon, heading south. Before reaching the village of Odeceixe, we bought bread and homemade sausage produced in the Alentejo Region. These were an addition to the food Jose brought from Grandola. Later, near a river that wound through a fertile valley, we held a picnic. It seemed a picnic out of a French film. Hence the green grass, the red roofs of the houses in the distance, a garden to the left. The music of the gentle wind suited our stories. Overall, it was a sunny Saturday. The food that the couple brought from Grandola consisted on meat and fish croquettes and fruits. The wine, a homemade white from Porto. Naturally, it was a time we enjoyed our company after the last time we’ve been -also- travelling about a month ago. It was when I said goodbye to my stay in the Sierras of Grandola. When finished eating, with our full bellies and happy hearts, we skirted the river until reach the beach of Odeceixe. We walked on sand banks and loose stones to the edge of the sea. I got the impression that the sea was rough, but that was a conservative vision, because there is it toughest days. The blue sea horizon hung out with the white profile of the houses above the cliff. The sound of the water whipped against the rocks as well as my own proximity to the elements, made me feel in a state of some sort of matchless dizziness. Being too close to the waves contains a latent danger. So I began a careful and slow withdrawal. Upon returning to town for a cup of cafe, Jose expresses a wish: "One day I would like to navigate this river to the mouth of the sea". We walk through a deserted village. The small cemetery was not well kept, the doors of the houses were closed, we heard the sound of our footsteps. Mentally I heard the solemn Te Deum sung by the Cartesian monks from a fifth century abbey. We walked in silence through narrow streets and stairways embraced by the whiteness of the walls. It was like a ceremony to discover simple things. On our way back home (what home?), we stopped at the fishing village of Azenha do Mar. Again, the smell of the sea, that romanticism in those low-roofed shacks and the taciturn behavior of its inhabitants. What else we could do that drink beers at the terrace of a local restaurant, while feeling the warm caress of the sun going down…? There will be not a better day like this. Thank You, Jose. Thank You, Maria. See the whole album Here |
