Growing up I was tought that we live in a free country. The countries to the east were the badlands where the bad people lived: The thieves, the gypsies, the communists, the spies the STASI and the KGB. In the country I grew up in, it is illegal to sleep in a car. The only way to do it is to use a designated (usually fenced of) area where one has to pay and share the place with enthusiastic holiday-makers. Leisure and quality of life is there mostly for the wealthy, like the whole country seems to be made for the wealthy. It took about 24h hours on the first expedition to the badlands to realise that I had been subjected to western propaganda for my whole life; nothing was true, and it was a relieve: Carefully built paranoia crumbled within the first few encounters, and the astonishment that showed on peoples faces when I asked, whether it was acceptable to camp, hinted on a very different freedom that I was about to discover: Land that belongs to the people instead of being fenced of or hidden aways by a government.The Places are a celebration of this relieve: On each of them I lived and worked in my bus for a few days; each of them are there for everybody. They are my personal escape pods. Being titled with their exact coordinates, they can be escape pods for everybody.