It was a hot and dusty afternoon in Tunis. After fiddling with an ancient looking brass key I succeeded in getting the equally dated door open. I glanced both ways down the hall – an old habit not easily forgotten. Once inside I kicked off my shoes before flopping heavily onto the bed. The ancient steel frame screeched in protest, but stood its ground. Outside the window I could sense the din of the city – alive with the hope of a better tomorrow.
Beside me on the nightstand what a book: “The Lost City of Z.” Picking it up I found my page, happy for the peace and quiet of the room.
Earlier in the day I had been on the hunt. My excursion began early – so as to avoid the worst of the midday crowds. Although the excitement was dying down, signs of celebration and danger were still plentiful. Flags and banners streamed from every building, and military checkpoints clogged the intersections. Heavily armed troops still patrolled, but they looked more relaxed. Some even smiled.
The stakes had been high – but the event concluded without violence. Only two days earlier the nation had celebrated its first free democratic elections. It had taken more than two years, but the revolution was over. Democracy had found purchase, and I was out searching for an image to capture the moment.
Back in my room I turned the page. The book was trying to explain why Colonel Fawcett had chosen to go again and again to the Amazon, despite the danger and hardship. A few lines down the page I came upon this quote:
“Years later, another member of [of the Royal Geographical Society] conceded, “Explorers are not, perhaps, the most promising people with whom to build a society. Indeed, some might say that explorers become explorers precisely because they have a streak of unsociability and a need to remove themselves at regular intervals as far as possible from their fellow men.” – David Grann The Lost City of Z.
I remember feeling slightly irritated upon first reading the quote. I read it again. Then a third time.
It bothered me in exactly the way that one is bothered when facing an uncomfortable truth about themselves.
To this day I have been unable to completely forget the quote. While I do not suggest I am an explorer in the tradition of such men as Colonel Fawcett, I must admit there are some uncomfortable parallels.
Stay Wild!
The Wild 
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