Monkeyrockworld

Here at Monkeyrockworld we have an eye for adventure. If said adventure is Italian made, and also has an humanitarian backbone, we like it even more. Before closing up a long, exciting year 2009, it’s my duty to present an incredible adventure that is being overtaken as we speak.

Matteo Tricarico is an Italian with balls of steel who decided to pedal his way from Saigon, Vietnam to his city of origin, Manfredonia, Puglia, Italy. In the footsteps of a Bettinellian reversed Odyssey, and this time, by bicycle and not motorbike, the aim of this trip is not just the sheer adventure of it, but also a fund raising for disabled children centers located all over the route.

The final itinerary will be dictated by the meetings in schools for disabled children along the way and it will culminate with the visit of the institute for disabled students’ rehabilitation, “Cesarani”, in Manfredonia, Italy. (more…)

MM- You spent several years in SE Asia, can you briefly tell me, according to your perspective and experience, the best and the worst side every of the ones you lived in and visited has to offer.

The places that are the biggest adventures are those that have the least modern conveniences and comforts. So this is always the conundrum. Do you want to live like a human being or do you want the big adventure? You often can’t have both. Taiwan and Korea are extremely developed, so less adventure. Cambodia and Vietnam are still raw, so it’s exciting, but you have to deal with bad internet service, higher crime rates, dirty food…a lot of potentially uncomfortable situations and conditions. In Cambodia in particular, you want a local experience but local things are often so undeveloped or ill-equipped that you wind up going to foreigner things which cost as much as they do back home but with half the quality. People think living in a poor country is cheap. It’s not necessarily. For one thing, most products are imported, so they cost more than they do back home.

Thailand is by far the best place to train. There are 90,000 professional boxers in Thailand and probably 1,000 gyms with professional training and international fighting experience. The cost of living is also very low in Thailand. BUT bring your own money. There is nearly no way to earn money in Thailand. as a fighter you will some times get as little as $90 for a fight. As a teacher, most jobs only pay about $700 USD a month. (more…)

Antonio Graceffo is an Italian American adventure writer and martial arts enthusiast who left a Wall Street finance background to literally dive into Asian adventures and languages.

I discovered him by chance while surfing the internet in Australia, and I decided that such an interesting character needed some space in the Monkeyrockworld. Adventure writer, martial art fighter and TV host, Antonio spent the best part of this decade living and studying Asian cultures and languages, abandoning a pretty well-heeled New York background. The myths and mysteries about him are all unveiled in this exclusive interview.

MM- Hi Antonio, please briefly introduce yourself to our readers unaware of the fact you are an unstoppable adventure machine…

My parents are Sicilian. I was born in New York. I grew up speaking English, Spanish and Italian. I started martial arts and boxing when I was 12. my first martial arts teacher was a returning Vietnam war veteran named H. David Collins who ran the American school of empty hand fighting in Tennessee. It was 1979. He was way ahead of his time. He taught us boxing and kickboxing as part of martial art and set me on my career as a fighter,. At that time, nearly no one in the martial arts community was doing real fighting. There were always stories of black belts getting beat by street fighters and boxers. Today, things are much different. But at that time, even guys like Chuck Norris, never had any real fights, just point fighting. (more…)

Usciamo dalla stazione e la bambina, con fare gioviale, mi fa notare che sulla sinistra c’è sua madre, e io la saluto con un cenno. Terza casa, terza sorpresa, solo che questa volta per lo stesso cesso la signora viet fa vedere 4 dita per mano, ovvero un bel 80mila dong, quattro euro, al che saluto e semidisperato dico alla bambina che forse è meglio tornare a… ma non faccio a tempo a finire, perchè la mamma arriva con passo deciso e appena le si trova davanti (more…)

Ma non è ancora finita: dopo circa sette ore di viaggio allucinante, e diciamolo, in Vietnam adesso alle diciotto e trenta è buio, ma buio pesto che non si vede niente di niente, arriviamo a Than Hoa. In queste prime ore il Vietnam mi è parso una Cina ancora più estrema. Il guidatore bastardo suona il clacson circa cento volte al minuto e non rallenta mai, motorini ovunque, l’unica differenza sono le scritte che sono romanizzate con quegli strani virgolini a destra e a manca, ma almeno mi fa sentire un pò più vicino a casa. Non che sia necessario, ma è giusto farlo notare, questo fatto delle scritte che colpisce in modo diverso. Than Hoa, non ce l’ho con te, ma mi hai veramente riservato un’accoglienza di merda, grazie. (more…)

Mi decido, fumo, con discrezione, tutti mi guardano, e quando sbuffo il fumo fuori loro si pronunciano in sorrisi e risate; di gusto: Ma è in quel momento che io, che non ho mangiato nulla dalla mattina perchè in carenza di soldi e con le carte di credito bloccate e senza la possibilità di fare nulla in una cittadina rurale come Sam Neua, inizio a sentirmi venire meno, tremare un poco, mentre cerco di versarmi altro caffè e apparire normale. Non sono stato drogato, no, affatto. E’ solo la potenza del superbong di bambù che mi ha fritto le cervella in una succhiata di aria compressa. (more…)

Lascio il Laos in una mattina piovosa dell’11 settembre 2008, sette anni dopo la caduta delle Torri Gemelle e il mio intorpidito risveglio nel cuor del Texas, quando dietro di me quel tipo con la radio tatuata sulla pancia mi dice “Sono cadute le torri di New York” e io, ancora fracassato da una di quelle serate che ti lasciano lame di rasoio conficcate sotto la calotta cranica al posto del cervello, che gli dico “Eh? ah, sì” e mi rigiro dall’altra parte per altri lunghi minuti. Nessuna America ma un Laos rurale e bucolico, schiacciati in dieci, sedici, a volte quasi venti in un songthaew che sarebbe un tuk-tuk a reazione, ovvero un camioncino adattato a trasporto passeggeri. (more…)