1994, Córdoba in Spain. I came back from my second trip to Morocco, and oblivious to the fact that Spain had switched to summer time my empty wallet almost became a big problem. I thought I was on time for a train from Algeciras to Córdoba, but the clock at the platform said otherwise. I ended up on a late train, and all banks were closed, and that was when people like me had no access to plastic money yet – and it was “semana santa”, the week before Easter. I had no idea what a serious business that is in Spain, southern Spain in particular! Long story short, I was lucky to find a bed in a hostel, and had sufficient money to pay for a double bed shared with an old German lady pilgrim. The next day I moved into a windowless cabin, while John, a long-time traveller and alcoholic, allowed me to stay on the promise I’d pay him back once the banks were open again. On Good Friday I had 3,- DM left, which I invested in a beer, and John started helping me out – with money, food and weekend-job opportunities that didn’t materialize. On Monday the banks opened, and I could pay him out. I learnt several things there: while traveling, don’t be overanxious – you may find that the Universe (here called John) provides. Secondly, know that longtime-travelling is not only exciting but also risky – you may end up like John. He had been traveling all over the globe for decades, and now in his late fifties job opportunities were getting fewer and fewer, and the drinks were getting more and more, and there was no-one left in the world he could rely on. Thirdly, those masks worn during the semana-santa processions in Southern Spain are scary as hell, especially during silent candle processions at night.