Nature in the South

by FERENC IVANICS
I know, I know, our mission is about friendship and brotherhood... about people, but we spend definitely more time with nature than with other people; so we can’t ignore it, that’s why I’m going to write about nature of Southern USA this time.

When I try to recall the dangers we faced when going on excursion in Vojvodina or in Hungary I cannot think of something nastier than ticks. Stray dogs, rabid foxes, hogs or lightnings maybe. But apart from the tick-threat the chance to meet these threats is fairly low. To use these instruments to commit a suicide would probably require years of trying it deliberately. And if you take the tick problem seriously you can always use a chemical spray to keep them—ant the diseases they spread—away. We’re used to all these threats. I can go out to the forests near Palić and sleep under the stars anytime.

Well, it’s quite different here. The most frightful is the weather: electric storms, tornadoes, hurricanes... Electric storms are the most common phenomena, we see them various times a week. We have developed quite a sense of predicting their path. And when contact is unavoidable we try to hide from them. It’s quite annoying to get soaked in minutes when a storm arrives. But what’s really scary is the amount of lightnings an electric storm produces in the southern part of the USA. It’s a risk you have to take seriously. We haven’t seen tornadoes yet, but wild, surging storm clouds, the cradle of real tornadoes. This wild and highly unpredictable weather always makes it more difficult to keep up with our road map.


Hurricane season lasts here from June to November. The highest chance to meet a hurricane is in August and September. I think most of you have heard about the hurricane Katrina and how hard it hit Mississippi and South-Louisiana. Walking along the Gulf Coast in Mississippi you see new houses everywhere. The ruins are cleared away but the foundations of the wrecked houses are still there. And nature suffered as well, not only because of the fierce winds, but the floods brought saltwater to the area and most plants are struggling to stay alive.



Robert, our host in NOLA took us on an exhausting trip in the surroundings and explained that it wasn’t the wind but the floods that took most lives in the city. We saw ruined and deserted neighborhoods, houses with X marks on them—telling details about the rescue crews’ findings. We hope not to experience anything like that on our trip.


Entering Louisiana we found ourselves in a huge swampland. One bridge follows another and it’s perfectly common to see a bridge that’s four miles long, and near New Orleans there’s a twenty-mile long bridge. Rain, humid and warm climate, and dense tropical forests provide ideal habitat for many animals. Some of them highly venomous. It’s not uncommon to see snakes run over by cars on the roadsides. Usually they are non-venomous but sometimes we see dangerous ones as well: mostly moccasin snakes, coral snakes, and rattlesnakes. Some spiders, like the brown recluse spider, have potent venom as well, they are not able to kill a man but definitely can inflict serious wounds.



So, we have to be alert, not taking our eyes off wild animals like snakes, insects and spiders. When we get home we’ll just lay down in a forest clearing and not think about fire ants and scorpions again for a while...

A Break in Marianna Hot Springs

by FERENC IVANICS
Probably all of you know that we’re in a hurry. We follow a strict schedule. Our next major stop is New Orleans, we have to get there before the 9th of July. The U.S.A. stage has been converted into a big, unpleasing race against time. It has become most unbearable recently, we couldn’t help it, had to make a stop in Marianna. The small lake was right beside the road we were walking on. We spent half a day there but it was definitely worth it.


The water is surrounded by amazing jungles, where water meets forest there are dozens of cypress trees with their typical “knees”, which are air roots. Around these roots you see small turtles and colorful fish, it’s like a huge fish-bowl.


The water of the springs is collected in a lake, even though the spring-water is cold, it grows warmer in these shallow ponds. There’s a small dam that controls water flow, and the water of the lake is drained into a shooting stream. You have to be careful no to be dragged on by the stream, it can be dangerous.


So, half-a-day of pleasure. We become children again. I’ve seen our wrinkles growing and growing deeper, the pouches under our eyes getting heavier during these last days. Our morale has been on the slope as well due to the strained march and the cruel weather. I’ve been thinking about that it’s too much, that maybe our background supporters who help us get the message to you, well, maybe even they could not imagine that we are giving all that we can, that we’re living on the edge of insanity.



We needed that afternoon, needed it to wash away the burden and tension of the last few days, to prepare ourselves to the next days, which are not going to be any better than the previous ones. Probably not.

Blasts in the Sky

by FERENC IVANICS
Walking by an orange plantation Valencia came tom my mind immediately, though it was an abandoned plantation on sale. The quality of the oranges is fare from their Spanish cousins’, but they are OK to make juice. I stare at the thriving clouds above the orange trees, they remind me of giant cauliflowers, enormous cauliflowers, let me tell you. We would need a giant fan to blow these clouds away. But there’s no giant fan at hand, even though I would like it very much.

The clouds look impressive in the setting sun’s light, you see all the bulges and holes there, as they submerge into regions of pastel orange, pink, violet then blue as the sun submerges into the horizon. I like these clouds, like them when they are far away. I close one of my eyes, trying to focus on a branch of an orange tree while looking at the clouds in the background. I’m trying to figure out the direction they are heading. I’m hoping they will pass round us, but it’s just hope: I guess I already figured out a few minutes ago that they are coming this way. I hear a low rumbling in the background. It’s growing darker and you can see the flashes inside the monster-cloud. The flashing potential paints the clouds evil greenish violet.

“Oh yeah, they call us The Lightning Capital”, said the assistant at a gas station a few days ago. He told us that lightnings in Florida are the second heaviest in the world, you have to go somewhere in Africa to see larger ones. And he added that every year there are fatalities, people who have their soul removed by the giant light-whip. Another thunder wakes me up from my thoughts, it’s getting closer. Crackles than a half-a-minute long rumble follows. Now the lightning bolts are visible, too. I feel that it would be better to retire to my tent. Even though I don’t really feel safer inside, it’s better then standing outside. But I’m glimpsing out of the tent to see the infernal show.

An immense lightning strikes in the distance, practically sticks to the ground pulsing for seconds and growing a dozen branches that split into twigs, and even these twigs split into smaller paths. It almost covers half the sky. As if it were roots of a giant oak above our head. The crash of the main trunk fills and shakes the air then the cracks and pops of the branches and twigs follow. The rumble goes on for two minutes. I’m getting a bit worried.

I close the window of the tent and lay down. There’s no chance to sleep. I start to count seconds between large strikes and thunders. One, two, three... seven, eight... Bang! A minute passes and the tent’s skin lights again. One, two, three... five, six... Bang! Damn, it’s coming closer. I’m curling up into embryonic pose. My thoughts revolve around those basements where women, men and children huddle up and share their fears raised by the bombings. I’m scared, pretty much, though I know that the chances of survival are pretty high. Weapons of modern warfare are much more devastating than lightnings. Is that fear any different when you know that a bomb can shred you, your family, your friends and neighbors into peaces anytime? When the storm passes a clean sky stays and nature takes a breath, almost as if nothing have happened. But when you step out of the basement you expect to see debris and hear cries. Modern warfare: they let the machines take care of it. Machines don’t hesitate when pulling the trigger, there’s no need to face the terrible consequences. I push a button here, and there lay thousands dead there. There’s a small smoke patch on the satellite image. The screams, the blood are secondary information.

Another huge lightning strikes. One, two, three... nine, ten: Bang! It’s drifting away. Thanks heavens, Armageddon’s been canceled tonight. Nature provides us many goods but in the next moment it hits fiercely. Some say that this is the order and hazard of the physical world. Others think that we can control nature. Anyways, it takes a lot of our momentum to fight down hurricanes, tornadoes, tsunamis, earthquakes, eruptions, floods and droughts, etc. And besides these challenges we kill each other. Shouldn’t we all get along to keep ourselves safe? Why is it better to spend our knowledge and gifts on sibling wars? It’s just plain crazy, everyone knows that.

As the storm is getting farther away my heartbeat is slowing down. I’m starting to calm down. I stretch myself on the floor of the tent and go to sleep. We have to get up early tomorrow, even if everyone else is still dead asleep...

Barbecues, Burnouts, Banjos

by FERENC IVANICS
We’re still walking along dense forests, there are clear water streams and ponds near our path. Sometimes we only realize how special these places are when we post the photos on our flickr account. Sometimes I could cry for not having enough time to take a fifteen-mile roundabout to visit an enchanted place... They say these are excellent swimming sites, and scuba-divers can have a lot of fun discovering underwater caves. One of these places is High Springs.


But we’re pleased that people make it up for these misses. Many of them offer help, or just show interest to know more about us. For example there was the Becher family; they invited us to their family picnic, and supported us by sharing their food and company, and even helped us out with a few bucks as well. Thank you!


Or there was Tod. We camped near his house in High Springs and met him before along the road. (You know it’s quite hard to actually meet people even in inhabited areas in the U.S. Even the towns look totally deserted, you don’t really see people on the streets. Cars, yes, there are cars, but a few times we had trouble asking for directions since we found no one to ask. Near gas stations and stores, there’s a higher chance. :) So, Tod invited us to have a chat with them, he makes good cocktails and loves powerful cars. He even gave my brother a burnout ride on his 5.7 Chevy. Good guys, thanks for the Cohiba cigars.



We found today’s cultural reference when crossing the Suwanee river to Dixie County. “Immortalized by Stephen Foster”: even though the musical notes provided a hint, we had to wait until we reached the first internet access point to actually listen to the song titled Old Folks at Home. And I guess the most authentic way to play the song is on banjo or harmonica.

Religious Shelters

Sanctuary has multiple meanings. A sanctuary is the consecrated area of a church or temple around its tabernacle or altar. An animal sanctuary is a place where animals live and are protected. In modern parlance the term is used to mean a place of safety. Sanctuary was also a right to be safe from arrest in the sanctuary of a church or temple, recognized by English law from the fourth to the seventeenth century. (Wikipedia)

But not only they gave shelter to medieval criminals, the WorldWalkers enjoyed their hospitality several times. (Not that they are criminals. :)

by FERENC IVANICS
Here in Florida it’s not always an easy task to find a camping spot, even though local people are really helpful. We often stay for a night at the back or front yards of churches. Usually they not only let us stay but they make our walking trip more pleasing with a small treat, a nice chat.

A few times we don’t have a chance to ask for persmission. We arrive late at the evening, the church is closed, we have no idea who should we contact. In these cases we just put up our tents and fall into a deep sleep due to the long day’s walk. Usually, to be woken up to the noise made by the folks coming to the morning service... But sometimes we wake up to a coffee or some cakes they share with us. We have visited many churches of many religions, but it’s safe to say that they all have helped us with small details, or with post-permissions to camp on their property. In the Trinity Church seen on the next photo they were particularly kind to us.


We had good experiences only in Europe and Africa as well. In the September of 2007 we arrived late, freezing cold and very wet in Munich, where we contacted the Hungarian Catholic Mission. They received us with a warm welcome, let us wash and dry our clothes, to warm ourselves in the building. It was really cold outside, or so we thought.


But we found out about real cold later in November, in France. We slept in freezing cold, on snowy fields; in fact, we didn’t sleep too much... Then we ariived to the Taizé Community. We spent a few nights there with the young fellows, living their everyday life, taking part in their programs. But after a few days the road called, we had to part.


And of course, we have to mention the San Juan de Dios center in Málaga, where we were able to take a shower after months without running water, had a haircut; we became human-like creatures again. But we have already told you the story.

Read “Shower in the Church”

Welcome to the Jungle

by FERENC IVANICS
Jungle, guns and blood? We’re definitely going to cite some lyrics of the LA band, Guns'n'Roses here: Welcome to the Jungle

Welcome to the jungle
It gets worse here everyday
Ya learn ta live like an animal
In the jungle where we play

Sometimes we recall our previous camping spots, for example in France, where we camped in freezing temperatures, or Germany’s green meadows, the Sahara desert...




Well, these days it is something completely different. Somewhere after Tavares we found a camping spot. By the side of a creek there were some deserted old houses. We looked around to see if there was anyone there, found a fisherman, who said that no, no one had been here for a while. The place was beautiful, if someone had kidnapped me and dropped me here, saying that this was Costa Rica, I would have believed him. A small river, crocodiles, large fish and real mossy jungle on the shores. We’ve seen some huge wading birds, larger than a crane, and some eagles. And we’ve seen ants. So small they march through the mosquito screen of the tents. Fortunately they were after the dead matter of the blisters, stuck in our socks.

Welcome to the jungle
We got fun 'n' games
We got everything you want
Honey we know the names

The local color is not about the plants and animals only. We haven’t seen so many gun stores in our life. Even the smallest place has at least one of them. And it’s curious that they often sell guns and jewelry at the same place. “I’d like to have a gun and some ammo. Thank you. And now I’d like to take that necklace, too.” :) I guess, it’s too cliché.

Welcome to the jungle
We take it day by day
If you want it you're gonna bleed
But it's the price you pay

They’re not as dangerous as guns, but they’re of larger caliber than we’re used to: damn mosquitoes. Sometimes we think that a mad fly attacked us. If you’re not quick enough smashing it blood splutters everywhere.

From Orlando to New Orleans

Ferenc and István left Orlando yesterday, they will arrive to New Orleans on the 5th July (this is an estimate). In this 650 mile stage they will cross a state border, visit many places where they would like to meet local folks. Everyone is welcome to join them for a good chat, or to walk a few miles—well, not in their shoes—but in their company, or to have an interview with them. Any tips you’d like to share, just call Ferenc (+1) 504 2615164.


Check out their detailed road map to New Orleans (LA)

Orlando Media Update

June 3rd, Kate Santich resumed her thoughts about the WorldWalk-Peacetour mission, sprinkled with interview segments. The article is available in the online edition of the Orlando Sentinel.

They wore T-shirts—plain for lack of sponsorship. They were on their third pair of Nikes, which they replace every 2,500 miles. They were tanned and thin and earnest.

Their message is not anti-war exactly, nor is it particularly political or religious. It is about taking little steps, even on a very, very long journey. (Kate Santich)

The same day Julie Norris, a “local lady” broadcasted a radio interview with the boys on Front Porch Radio. You can check out the streaming audio at the blog of FPR.

Thank you both for the support!

Read the article of Kate Santich in Orlando Sentinel
Listen to the interview of Julie Norris on Front Porch Radio

Okeechobee Visit

by FERENC IVANICS
We walked all the way along the eastern shore of the Okeechobee lake. Haven’t seen much of the lake itself, though, since there’s a levee around the lake. There’s a walkway on the top of the levee but it’s not recommended to sleep on the dike due to the alligator threat.


After Belle Glade the swampland began to disappear and trees started to show themselves. Somewhere at this border we stumbled upon a fruit garden. But instead of seeing the common—of course, to us common—apples, pears, apricots, peaches or cherries, we saw mango, papaya, tamarind, avocado, coconut, carambola, custard apple. But mostly mango.



We followed our walk with a papaya, two pieces of mango and a dozen tamarinds in our hands. Along the road there’s wild forest here, they look surprisingly abandoned and tangled with vegetation. Well, this still is Florida. We visioned thousands of unknown species in the wild around us. We heard some strange noises, probably the sound of wild birds and insects. A few minutes ago the librarian lady scared us with rattlesnake stories. We haven’t seen wild rattlesnakes but yes, wild papaya. Of course it’s a plant, it does no harm, and even though it’s a lot smaller than its cultivated cousin, it’s really tasty.


Rainstorms are still common, we try to keep ourselves dry dressing up in garbage bags and putting one on our backpacks as well. Today a lightning hit pretty close to us and it scared us shitless... We have a new fierce enemy: fire ants. They are extremely aggressive, I think they eat anything that’s not metallic. We have to look around where to put our bottoms when having a break. That’s all for now, we’re on to Orlando.

Strange Fruits, Part 1: Custard-apple, Argan and Cactus Fig
Strange Fruits, Part 2: Palmyra Palm Seeds, Bissap, Persimmon

Next Stop: Lake Okeechobee

by FERENC IVANICS
It took us one day to walk to the edge of Miami. One time, we stopped near a watercourse on the border of Miami and the industrial zone surrounding the city to catch our breath. We looked around: “Look, there’s a big fish.”, “Look, there goes a turtle.”... “Look, there’s a small alligator.” Holy crap! Later we realized that alligators are quite common in Florida.



Though the views of the flora and fauna of the region are compelling, we have to stand the weather. With temperatures above a 100 degrees, with humidity above 90% it’s not that we sweat, we’re streaming with sweat.



And it’s rainy season, so it’s not surprising to see and feel heavy thunderstorms almost every afternoon. But we’re zippy guys (and have a schedule to meet) so we walk in rainy weather as well. Humidity and high temperatures have an effect on our feet: our old enemies, blisters are back. I have so many new ones that I need a calculator to count them all.


Never ending swamps, crocodiles, oversized snakes, Florida panthers, this is the Everglades. Unfortunately we saw a few panthers and large alligators run over on the roadways. Or maybe fortunately for us... Some of the alligators can measure 12 feet. The locals use strange swamp boats to move around in the Everglades.



Finding a campsite is not an easy task. Currently we walk on a road that looks almost like a motorway. To our left and right: swamps and lakes. We pray every day to find a small spot to put our tents up. So far we’ve had luck. And people are really friendly around here, once we were invited to sleep on a farm, near the stables, with a roof over our head. It was priceless. Once Mr. Raimon Pruitt, the Palm Beach County Deputy Sheriff helped us find a safe spot. Right now we are at Thomas Krewson’s place, he and his wife are too kind. But yes, sometimes we need to use our new tents, too.


The (Not So) Surprising Enemy: Blisters
New photos on Flickr

First Days in the U.S.A.

by FERENC IVANICS
It was a six-hour ride from Seville to Madrid, during the trip we saw immense olive groves and we realized again that Spain is a world power in olive oil production. We arrived safely in Madrid and spent a night there in a cheap hostel, in company of many immigrants. Our flight was to depart from Terminal 4 of the Barajas Airport. We were expecting to meet some trouble, it’s a huge airport and it takes quite some time to get to the terminal, so it’s better to get organized... We were quite afraid of missing the flight (fortunately we had found some pretty cheap flights to Miami) or just screwing something up—we were first-time flyers—at the last checkpoint the qualified officers were looking for the biometric chip in our passports for more than ten minutes.


Well, I think the take-off and landing are still queer, but it’s even queerer that you can fly in a metal tube in 70 degrees below zero, with 600 miles an hour, at thirty-thousand feet high. I rather trust bicycles.


At the U.S.A. border they asked us some questions (some German tourists passed by without being questioned), but I believe we gave the right answers so we were allowed to enter. Miami is huge, very huge.

We took-off at noon and landed at half past two, so we spent more than nine hours above the ocean, the time-zone difference is six hours. In Miami the first thing we did was look for a cheap accommodation, that’s how we ended up in Miami Beach, but due to various calamities finally we settled down on the beach itself, trying to get some sleep in our sleeping bags. At midnight a tropical shower forced us to leave, and we got a room for the following night.


We spent the whole next day looking for new tents, new mats and clothes, and getting the hang of the U.S.A. We had our first bites of the American food as well. Everything’s different, yet everything is almost the same as in Europe. There are people of every variety, and they are informal and direct, both young and old. It’s really common to find yourself having a conversation with someone on the bus or on the streets. We haven’t seen much of nature yet, but the flora and fauna is fully tropical. There are coconut palms and other—unknown but clearly—tropical plants in gardens and parks. We saw iguanas and some interesting birds as well. There are sea turtle nests on the beach, and they are seriously protected. It’s hot, really hot during the day and 80 degrees by night, or when the cool-lukewarm rain begins to fall. The air is always humid.


In the afternoon we headed to the Pace Park to meet those who were interested in our mission. Even though we hadn’t have too much time to organize the meeting and we totally lacked information about Miami and organizations in Miami, there were curious and helpful folks there. They came from the First Hungarian United Church of Christ of Miami, the Miami Kossuth Club. We had a really nice and pleasant afternoon chatting with them. They shared some Hungarian bread, milk-bread and sausage with us, too. Yummy... Thank you very much for everything.



In the evening of the second afternoon we had a walk on the beach. It started to rain again, it was a three-hour long heavy electric storm, with pouring rain. We took shelter from the water at a small lodge, with three other guys. They were looking forward to begin a thousand mile long bike trip in the U.S. The rain didn’t want to stop and we didn’t feel like coming out of our shelter. Finally, one of the biker guys gathered his courage to go to a small store and bought some black garbage sacks to cover their stuff. We made some rain-ponchos from the sacks to protect ourselves. Good company, good times again. But tomorrow we’ll explore the first stage in America.