Was on my motorcycle late in the night when the cold wind hit my face in a precise manner. It was a strange night, one of those not so cold and not so hot ones. Looks like winters gone without making much of a fuss. Back home from work and spending time in front of the Computer Screen and then the television screen, the TV caught my attention. The screen flickered images of a wheel driving along a endless road. That image was enough. It fired some neurons in my brain like a jolt and I got a sense of déjà vu. Before the next scene cut and showed up the two men in leather skull caps on a motorcycle I knew it was the Motorcycle Diaries playing on one of the channels.
Had seen this gorgeous Spanish movie with its very witty subtitles over two years ago and I was taken into the past. It felt familiar and pleasant. The memories associated not so important or impressive but peharps it was a easier time in life or perhaps because it was not such a incredible time in life when I saw this impressive movie on the road trip taken by Che Guevara and Argentine in his final year of medicine with his charmingly rougish friend Alberto Granado. Its not often you see a movie which inspires you to be a kid again. Its not often that you see a movie and feel like sitting on your motorbike and scoping an entire continent. Hmm maybe its because you feel you still have something really outrageous and stupid left to do in life that you feel a déjà vu watching the movie.
A smirk which everytime the duo struggle with the wire to repair their La Poderosa.
Maybe next time I am on my motorcycle Ill hear that distinct bass guitar playing in some corner of my mind a distinctly latino tune.