5 Years as a Gypsy Girl

No child ever dreams of growing up to be a gypsy... In fact, personally I wanted to be a pirate... or a mermaid... or a, hmmmm, I forget ... PLANS CHANGE!

In fact, by the end of university I planned to start an empire and retire by 30 with 7 children and a white picked fence, a few llamas, and a husband who puts the Hoff to shame. 

Back in 2007 I agreed to explore deepest darkest Africa with a few friends - head out into the abyss and see what happened... 3 - 6 months MAXIMUM and then...

You experience all these weird and interesting cultures...

Bahar Darar, Ethiopia

You find ancient castle ruins

Gondor, Ethiopia

You  see snow for the first time in your life...

Mt Kenya, Kenya

Summit of Mt Kenya

You meet masses of incredible people...

Lake Malawi

 You sit for hours staring into beautifulnesses...

Malawi

 And although it happens every day, you're always breath taken by yet another perfect sunrise or sunset...

Sunrise over Lake Malawi

You learn how best to appreciate ancient relics...

Lallibella, Ethiopia (There's amazing rock-hewn churches too)

 And go to places most people only read about...

Lake Nakuru, Knya

Next thing you know, you've been contaminated by the innumerable wonders of the world, you've got a lethal case of the travel bug and you end up a gypsy.

I ENDED UP A GYPSY. 

As a gypsy, I followed my routes back to the start of gypsism, in Europe...

Paris, France

Venice, Italy

Stone henge, England

And then my baby brother was concerned that I'd acquired an Australian accent and talked me into a long drive. So we bought a car and started driving.

and we drove into Asia...

And we drove through Canyons....

Charyn Canyon, Kazakhstan 

 And we drove through snow...

Mongolia

 And we accidently camped in animal graveyards...

And visited places that were illegal for tourists....

The door to Hell, Turkmenistan

 And every now and then we broke down...

3 flat tyres at once, Mongolia

 But we raced through 17 500 + KM of awesomeness....

And finally we made it to Ulaanbataar

And a flick of the coin dictated I visit China next...

The Night food market in Beijing

And an expiring visa led me to South East Asia...

Cambodia, 2009

 And I got a semi-addiction to hitch hiking....

And I hitched across Southern Africa and Australia

Lickng the Sydney opera house, Australia

And I aquired my longest standing travel buddy yet

The deterioration of a giant Teddy over 6 months of good life 

And I motorbiked across Vietnam

And cycled across South East Asia

And got lured into all sorts of wild adventures...

Buiding a raft, Malaysia

Sinking a raft

Shipwrecking on a deserted island

I've seen things most will never see, licked things most will never lick and had the best years of my life. But I never planned to be a gypsy...

At 27 I find myself homeless, unemployed, and single; and a lot of it's been tough, but I wouldn't change a thing. I have no idea what the next 5 years - or even the rest of the week - hold; But whatever happens, I plan to make the most of it... I hope you'll be doing likewise!

Avoiding Death, Elephatitus, and Busses. (In that order)

It was a rough day watching my little Mao (the Chinese tyrant bicycle) be loaded onto the roof of an unroadworthy bus and sadder still watching former cycle buddy, Rohan, pass us three times. It was only once I was on the bus that I grappled with what I'd just signed up for - a 250 km journey that would take 9 hours. According to my googled calculator, this comes to about 27.777777777 km/hr and my Grand mother drives faster than that. I instantly regretted the decision but the rusty doors were bolted shut and the shockless bus was on the crawl.

It gets worse too - by the time I arrived a good many lifetimes later, I felt like death. And once I'd checked into my "China-Food Hotel" and found what used to be a mirror, I discovered that I looked it too. I had elephantitus or something very similar. To put it bluntly, I looked like the incredible hulk - not green or anything but swollen to the point that my eyes ears had almost dissappeared. My legs were tree trunks. My arms Oprah-Winfrey wings. My belly looked like one those African kids with the kwashiorkor and my neck had been swallowed by my shoulders. Worse still my throat had swollen shut and I was struggling to breathe. I climbed one flight of stairs and had to sit down - I was pretty sure I was about to die. Don't worry though, I didn't.

Trying in vain to find a pharmacy or some elephant tranquilizers (which would have possibly worked better) I was talked into booking a tour and I really am not sure why but for some reason it made sense at the time. Regret!!! I spent the whole night tossing, turning, gasping for air, throwing up. Repeat. The morning had me swollener still and I had no painkillers. I had no medication and I had no time to find any because I was already late for my pretty expensive tour.

I’m not sure why I thought a tour of ancient fields of clay jars would have been good anyway. Yes they were big and old and ruinsy, but they were really just pots – old school vases with stale water inside of them instead of pretty flowers. In my state I had little appreciation for the “mystical valleys of Paksovan” and even less for the never-ending bumpy dirt roads that shot spasms up my spine.

6 hours of old pots later I finally made it to the doctor. He wasn’t there. His wife phoned him for me and I tried to explain in a language that wasn’t anything close to English what my symptoms were. The wife handed me a pack of orange pills and another one full of yellow ones and told me to have one of each at every meal. I still have no idea what either are. But I’m hoping for the best…

Then I took the second set of necessary precautions for my near demising state and dragged myself on to a place renowned for recovery – Vang Vieng. It’s the kind of place where everyone has cuts and bruises and broken limbs and accidental amputations and weird drug addictions and massive life problems and well, there I was just about normal.

A couple of hard days of zip-lining, floating down the river, ladder jumping, beer pong, dancing, staying up till ridiculous o’clock the afternoon and relaxing in a hammock I was almost as good as new!

Two things I’ve learned from all of this:

1)    Busses are very bad for you.

2)    Beer is probably necessary.