18 Beijing-Paris rally and Pitt Lindner on happiness

Its Sunday. June 10 21.08 The sun yellow red, more orange than red in a leaden sky. The wind 3 bf from NNE. My window speckled with the many mosquito's that though impressive in their
multitude never are dangerous. They are all born into the deep peaty bottom of the Lake and
suddenly and seemingly from nowhere come up in swarms from the surface to see for first time Light and the same Sun I am now looking at from my House. This afternoon the sailing match was cancelled due to no winds, so I had time to prepare my next trip to Beijing.
Main Goal: hiring further staff.
And with a cup of Senseocoffee in my hand and feeling stiff and tired and content I am wondering: what is Argentina if Argentina is the symbol for happiness.
This morning I observed a young swallow who under the guidance of a parent had her or his first flying lessons. I thought I could see her heart throbbing. A minute of the here and now and I could feel again my heart beat and my warm eyes remembering the first swimming lessons of Marie my daughter: her abundant smile, her upheld head millimeters above the water. Her eagerness to reach theother side of the bassin. Her joy, pride, confidence.
And I realize now my confidence in the whole planning process of today and the feel of being boss of myself. Not disturbed by unnecessary frustrations.
I own nothing, no thing, no person. So I cannot lose anything
But what about love and friendship?
may 26 I had a wholeday trip around Beijing to look for possible other places than Riverside to live.
Boudewijn Heeren and Tony Zhou from Inspiree are the persons who can help a publisher to distribute his books all over China. And in the gentle personal talk we also had, they gave me
a routing, a day later enriched by a nice person I had lunch with, T., a friend of Ad Nederloff.
So I had a tour. While driving me alrong the driver teaches me Chinese. A gentle person, father of an only child. The son nearly finished University. According to Dong Yan the father is an example of the millions and millions of Chinese parents who spend 1/3 of their not too big income to the study of their children. So I visited Long Tan Park in the south. Nancizi and Houhai rep east and north west of the big square And the area of the fragrant hills.
The fragrant hills are in the North East near
the summer Place. Just nature. Boring. The Long tan Park is nice to walk in. It is bordered by
a small villapark in white stucco, but not inspiring. Its a compound. We were not allowed to enter, but the gentle driver gave the good reasons, because in the end one of the watchmen jumped in the backseat and allowed us to visit the neighbourhood. It did not inspire me. There are a lot of those compounds like this one in Beijing, full
of watchmen in semi- military attire. Always saluting and showing you the way, I mean waving their arms in the direction you are already heading for. I once visited a compound especially filled with expats. In the mood I was in, I thought I could see the walls weep.
The other places were full of live. Vendors, small shops, bikes. A lot of tourists also. And also big walls Behind them I guess the big and lush villa's and housing that a person like I like. But impernetratable, if that the right word.
So I am glad I met that nice person that is willing to the place I really look for: a complete
Chinese village in the outskirts of Beijing. Maybe this week.
After 6 hours driving through heavy traffic my Gentle Driver got hungry. I proposed to go to
the Shangri La Hotel to have some food. My friend Bert Kersten was staying there waiting for the start of the Beijing-Paris Rally for classic cars( he himself owns a 1929 Bentley)
My Genle Driver declined the offer. To stupidly expensive he gestured, so we drove around trying to find a normal Chinese restaurant. It took some time because it was 15.00 and due
to the heat most restaurants were closed. But we found one and I had my vegetables.
After that good meal we payed the bill. Costs approximately 2 coffees at the Shangri La.
I was glad to see Bert. We hugged and said goodby to the driver who went with his car to
the backyard to have a nap. Of course I know the outfits like Shangri La, just like you, I guess.
It could be new York or Amsterdam. Huge, a strinquartet, waitresses one shoulder bare, long silk dresses, selected on the same length, smiling. If you forgot the gentle eyes, the genuine kindness, they could easily could stand in for the reception of a up market brothel.
Bert soon would go off for a 16000 km trip through China, Mongolia and Russia up to Paris with not too much comfort along the road (sleeping in small tents) so I granted him the luxury, also because he is always the same gentle man.
He was not the only driver in that Place, there were 130 x 2 of them and not all them passing
by- worn out cocks in a macho role playing act- aroused my sympathy. But Bert attracted the
good people. Not only the actor B who joins him on the 6 week trip. But also an Englisman I
immediately liked for several reasons, but also by the fact he openly and vehemently accused
Blair for High Treason in the Iraq War case. And I joined him fullheartedly with my own target/
the governememt and its coterie in den Haag.
There sat in that carré of sofa´s also a slender guy from Germany, calles Tripp Lidner. I may use his name. He was driving a 100 year old fire brigade car. The Being Paris started 100 years
ago for the first time, so maybe his car.... Anyhow, the man called Tripp just sat there, nipping
his tea, looking at me with clear brown eyes. Kindly provocative.
`So Tripp,´I said. `We were just discussing the subject, can you tell me, what is happiness
to you.
He immediately fired. From his hip.
´My wife,´he said.´
I told him how I felt.
He believed me, he said.
He tossed me his mobile phone.
´Read these two messages. This is she. All the way from my village.´
The first one.
Darling Tripp, I sit in the garden. Alle those flowers. I saw a beautiful dragon fly and immediately thought of you. Love love...
The second one , a minute later.
But darling darling, even without that dragon fly I think of you. Always.

I remember this moment as a sweet present from Tripp to me, the complete stranger to him.

Outside the lake slowly darkening. And I loath the poor philosophy inherent to

the maxim `I f you dont own somebody, you cannot be hurt.`

And hitting the keys of my PC, I cannot say more to certain persons known and yet unkown to me, than this. Please let me be the guest in your life and let me be hurt by you.

But not too much.