Secrasse@Payz

Voici donc les photos que Diana à prises lors du Secrasquat chez Payz au mois d'Août.

3 zérozappeurs fidèles au poste, beaucoup trop d'absents hélas. Pénalité.

Toki ne zappe pas!

Le hérisson de Payzland. Venu bouffer les miettes de Secra/Tristan.

Sans m'étendre sur les talents de photographe de Diana, je voudrais saluer ses talents de graphistes. Sachez que pas loin de 87 heures de travail sous photoshop ont été nécessaires afin d'obtenir ce rendu, ou Payz a presque un visage agréable.

Le tracteur tondeuse rouge, éternel objet de fascination pour les enfants. Je vous fait les bulles de dialogue :
- C'est mon tour!
- Non c'est MON tour!

Zerochuce!

Qi Gong - Nouveau trip pour Deute

Voila, j'ai fait ma première séance aujourd’hui et c'était assez excellent! On a beau par faire vraiment d'effort physique, on bouge tellement que je transpirais bien à la fin.

L'instructeur sort d'une bande dessinée. A l'air juste d'être un mec cool relax à premier abord, cheveux noirs long jusqu'au cul, gros sourire, petite moustache, mais dès qu'il commence à faire les mouvements, il se transforme en serpent-dragon. Incroyable, c'est limite relaxant de juste le regarder faire les mouvements.

Donc j'ai beaucoup de chemin à faire, car même la nana à côté de moi y arrivait 1000 fois mieux que oim.

On était 4 élèves et j'étais le seul mec, haha!

En tout cas j'ai bien kiffé, j'y retourne lundi prochain :-)

CR Sri Lanka

GREET THE SACRED COW

They say you always remember your first time. They weren't kidding. Seriously.  There is literally nothing about Sri Lanka I will be losing to memory anytime soon. Barely out of the country and this trip is already a floating collection of gorgeous flashes and unforgettable first times.

But where do you even begin with Sri Lanka? Where indulgence reigns as they say. 

 

The place is a rollercoaster of wildlife and unique firsts. My first time in Asia in the first country to have set up  environmental protection laws and national parks over four hundred years ago. The first country in terms of elephant population density. But also my first time in a truly equatorial country and the first place I learned to surf. The first place I saw a shark, a real one, in the water, snorkeling under a scorching sun,  right there right next to me. A four foot black tip shark exactly, off the coast of a tiny coral island zig zagging in the bright red and turquoise reef, with its baby, inches away from me.  And then another maybe five feet long this one and then one more. Fuck me. Beautiful creatures.

 

Of course this was also the first time seeing families of monkeys, hundreds of them, chameleons, gekkos and giant fuckin bats that come out at dusk, hordes of pelicans smacking their beaks and wings, sprinting wild peacocks and countless jungle fowls, the national bird that looks exactly like a small crested rooster, and bald eagles soaring above and hunting fish in a nose dive attack over an artificial lake nearly two thousand years old. The cobras don't come out during the day because of the eagles they said. And my first lotus flowers bright purple, green lilly pads with five or six frog legs, water buffalos in herds almost everywhere, wild elephants by the dozen, some stranded by the side of the road just munching on watermelon and corn cobbs, striped patterned cockroaches crawling out of your hand bag, anthills the size of a fucking car, the first time our feet got gently munched on in a little wading pool by little fishes that feed off your dead skin, the first time meeting a sea turtle on our way to the bathroom in a restaurant where a Saudi man, having allowed his wife half his age to take off her head scarf so Sophie could try it on, unknowingly offered to take my spouse off my hands. I told him Allah had other plans for the bumble bee as I shoved our wedding rings in his face. He laughed.

 

But where do you go from there? The two million moskitoe bites? Living in a bathing suit and flip flops for three weeks? The smells ? The sounds? The heat? Diesel and incense, slowly burning the taste of tea, garlic, and fish curry into your nostrils. The pungeant oils of ayuverdic head massages, the low pitched skweak of the lizzards at night or the constant cawing of the ravens during the day? The crashing waterfalls, the powerful hammering of mighty waves, the pull of the undertow, enough to sweep you off your feet or the permanent salt and sweat or better yet the wash of the heavy tropical rain and the freshness of the jungle mountains? Do you include the history? The food ?

 

The cricket games?  The tuk tuk rides ? Their crazy ass driving? The civil war. A country torn apart for decades.  Appeasement barely 7 years young. The folklore? Every full moon being celebrated as a holiday?  The spiritual awakening? Of Budhist, Hindu, Muslim and Christian traditions ? The gentleness of the people and their limitless love of nature and everything sacred she has to offer? Enough to meet a cow and a man on the train tracks one random morning,  walking several kilometers to release the rat he caught unharmed in his home back into the wild and as far from his house as possible. Oh and did I mention the trees? Holy shit the trees. Miles and miles of trees. Towering kings with textured trunks and majestic branches twisting and twirling to the high heavens. Roots pouring down to the ground covering entire boulders the size of small bungalows.  That familiar scent of skunky weed in a surfer's damp and musky hut? The explosives of a thousand chili spices in your mouth? There really is no good place to start. My pictures won't do justice to the place but it's a tiny try. I'd have to be a National Geographic special correspondant to even come close.

 

So our three weeks started on the west coast in Negombo where we landed. A big town with an airport and some nightlife but little to see.  There we partied and acclimatised and then from there we basically moved north and then clockwise around the island. It's roughly the size of ireland. Starting with the cultural sites near Anuradapura, the holy temples and the ruins of the first kingdom,  a vast and ancient capital spanning the centuries and braving the jungle circa 400AD. Then the rock temples of Dambula perched atop a small climb with carved steps and caverned Buddha's. Then on to Sigiriya, the mighty rock fortress, Sri Lankas most iconic landmark and the safe haven of the country's most treacherous patricidal ruler some hundreds of years ago.

 

Moving on we pushed for the snorkeling beaches in the north east, spent a few days soaking up books and sunlight then, after a short stop in one of the national reserve parks to catch a glimpse of Dumbo and family, our safari vehicle being charged by his angry mother not once but twice, we hopped on another bus and made for Kandy, the modern cultural center of the country, Nura Eliya then on to Ella by steam train, lost in the relentless mountains and terrassed tea plantations of the central region. An absolutely breathtaking ride.

After a few days inland we headed out of the jungle and down the mountains due east through the savannah to the surfers' coast Arugam Bay. Learned to surf. Rode waves. Made friends. Landed a few Eiffel towers on the beach dance floor.  Went for wild runs, and early morning swims. Simply loved the place and its hippie vibe.

And finally last Sunday we rode back by minivan through the mountains for eight hours straight back to Negombo for two last night's, two last Lion beers, and two last weeping sunsets over the Indian ocean. Both of us amazed and thrilled by the Sri Lankan experience. And as the sun rode out the horizon, we stood full of wonder and sadness as we faced due west, a golden fire dripping into the sea,  our return destination straight ahead, in distant europe far far away.

Yup that was it. A whirlwind tour of one of the nicest countries I ever had the honor of visiting and would gladly call home any day of the week... if only it weren't just a quickly fading but oh so god damned splendid memory now. If only...

Zéro

sakésquat dimanche 18 midi

Chuce,

Alors pour ce sakésquat on a juste une bouteille, mais quelle bouteille. Arrivé fraichement du japon dans les valises d'une amie, le saké dassai est le fruit d'années d'innovation dans la picole : chaque grain de riz est poli dans une machine pour capturer uniquement le meilleur de l'arôme. Je n'en sais pas plus sur les détails de fabrication mais en bouche, quelle merveille.

Je quote l'article de la maison du whisky sur ce saké

DASSAI 23 Junmai Dai-ginjo 16,5%

La cuvée haut-de-gamme de la maison Asahi Shuzo, ce saké dai-ginjo représente tout ce que le Japon peut créer de plus raffiné et élégant. Le fruit d'une technologie de pointe et d'un respect pour la tradition, c'est actuellement l'un des plus célèbres sur le marché.
Non contente de se limiter à la production de saké ginjo, la brasserie Asahi Shuzo ne produit que du saké de la classe dai-ginjo sous la marque Dassaï. A la fois dotée d’une technologie de pointe capable de produire des sakés parmi les plus raffinés au Japon, et animée par un esprit de tradition et de responsabilité envers les producteurs de riz, Asahi Shuzo figure parmi les maisons les plus influentes du moment.

Pour venir à la maison, en transports le plus simple est la ligne st-lazare - st-nom arrêt garches et puis monter l'avenue Foch jusqu'à ma résidence. Prendre la petite rue de la résidence juste avant l'agence immobilière puis escalier 6.Sinon la ligne 460 arrêt mairie de Garches depuis le terminus de la ligne 10.

Zerochuce!