When Russia invaded Ukraine in February this year, we were in the Netherlands, right amidst the Carnival celebrations. Soon after that, we were off to Central America to lead a motorcycle tour in Belize, then onto Mexico for a scouting mission, and finally, back to Europe for more two-wheeled shenanigans. All the while, I’ve been living in a sort of paralysis, going through the motions as if in some surreal parallel universe. With time, the initial shock was replaced by numb horror following the news, talking online with my Ukrainian friends, and feeling utterly useless. The Ukraine war is personal for me – being from Lithuania, I’m all too familiar with the Soviet and Russian terror. I’m all too familiar with the maniacal imperial fantasies of Russia and its beastly machine of propagan...
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