another suit day

“Kings and queens who wear a suit but once, though made by some tailor or dressmaker to their majesties, cannot know the comfort of wearing a suit that fits. They are no better than wooden horses to hang the clean clothes on. Every day our garments become more assimilated to ourselves, receiving the impress of the wearer's character, until we hesitate to lay them aside without such delay and medical appliances and some such solemnity even as our bodies. No man ever stood the lower in my estimation for having a patch in his clothes; yet I am sure that there is greater anxiety, commonly, to have fashionable, or at least clean and unpatched clothes, than to have a sound conscience.”

Henry David Thoreau, Walden

I left Sokolowsko. I didn't want to, but I had obligations elsewhere. I had made promises and promises are holy.
There was no public transport to the train station in Adrspach. So I walked. I walked in my suit with everything I needed on my back. The backpack was heavy but it made me feel light. I could have hitchhiked but my feet were itching.
Living on the road. Even though I found the place where I want to settle down, it is an addiction I don't want to get rid of. Living in the walking. Walking my life.

I crossed the border, Poland became Czech Republic. I approached the Adrspach mountains. Again I looked at them in awe. They are amazing. And they resemble Montserrat near Barcelona.

A four hour trainride to Prague. A Prague afternoon in a 3-piece walking suit. Ready to fly. But eager to walk more.