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Why do accidents follow wherever I travel?

I believe a travel curse has been placed on me. I don’t travel as often as I would like, but my last three trips I have witnessed an accident on each trip. No major injuries or death we’re involved, probably only bruised egos. Like an ironic twist of fate, where my joy of traveling causes pain and discomfort for others.

First was Amsterdam, a city with a large number of cyclists. The city is meticulously planned out so roads, sidewalks and bicycle lanes all equally have their purpose. All the organization in the world can’t prevent someone who isn’t focused  from being punished for their moment of stupidity. I witnessed such a moment walking along the lanes under the Rijksmuseum which is open to foot and bike traffic. Locals and tourists were flooding the museum. A tourist couple stepped into the lanes, the man blindly walking ahead of his wife unknowingly dodging bikes.  His wife chased after him and nearly collided with a rider who was quick enough to break and avoid bulldozing her over. The husband turned back to comfort his wife and walked right into the path of new bike rider, this rider had no time to stop!  He ran into the husband, who dived towards the ground into a roll, feet up in the air like a gunslinger shooting 2 revolvers aimlessly at the heavens. No injuries, but pride definitely hit a new low that day.

 

Following trip, Portugal, the colorful Palacio De Pena. I’m recording a video attempting to capture the beautiful castle when I spot 4 resident cleaners coming down the steps. One the cleaners slipped and lands hard on her butt slipping down a few steps. The curse strikes again! No injuries or bruised egos this time, but bruised buttocks and a smile to shrug it off.

 

 

My last trip, in Lima, I witnessed a potentially serious accident, but again thankfully no serious injuries. Sitting street level enjoying lunch, I was watching the traffic go by. In the center of the street was a median with row of motorcycles parked in the center. A few of the motorcycle owners were hanging out chatting with each other. Some bikes had a food storage box attached for food deliveries. The busy city traffic was buzzing by when one rider pulled out backwards without looking. Suddenly he was rammed in the side by another motorbike, causing him to fall off his bike T.J. Hooker style onto the road with oncoming traffic approaching.  He managed to avoid being run over by a vehicle. That not only would have been tragic, but definitely would have ruined my appetite too.

I Saw The Funniest Thing in Morocco

I don’t have a picture of it so you will have to take my word for it.

They say you should have your camera with you at all times to catch the moment as it happens.  Even if I had my camera with me, it would have been humanly impossible to catch it in time. I was in the back seat of a car riding through the small streets Zagora. The small street vendors were blurring by on a hot October afternoon, as we made our way back to Marrakech. My head was leaning against the car window bobbing side to side as we weaved through the small chaotic streets of the city.  Among all the street vendors, I noticed one in particular, a meat vendor, in what appeared to be the smallest butcher shop in the world.  Basically a 10×12 foot shack that was the lone shop for many of the locals.

Two men stood in the shack under a few pieces of hanging meat swatting flies in what appeared to be a futile attempt of pest control.  Not wanting to give up, one shopkeeper came up with a better idea.  Reaching under the counter, he grabbed a can of Raid and started to shake the can getting ready to fire… that was the last thing I saw as the car drove away…