Cage Eggs

So you're a good egg right?? 

Or at least your mother told you that once upon a time... [mine did]

I've never been a huge fan of chooks - they smell, they eat their own young and, if injured, they peck each other to death... 

After working on an organic chicken farm in Australia, I felt I had every right to claim that chickens belonged in cages.

Schooner Sjostrom

But apparently you can taste the difference between cage and organic eggs (or so it was agreed on a starry windless night as 12 of us endlessly drifted on Schooner Sjostrom towards Fiji). 

Apparently you can taste when a chicken has had a good life.

Photo credit: Conor Carftwright.

And life really was good.

Eight nationalities of all different creeds and cultures lit up the 100 foot gaff rig.

I'd been expecting a rough passage from New Zealand - but instead of crashing waves and sea sickness, the sea was glass and we had daily swims without even needing to hold on for dear life.

This just doesn't happen in the middle of the ocean. Ever!

The beautifully hand-crafted wooden boat boasted 5 toilets and fridges and freezers and a coffee plunger - all things I'd skipped in previous Pacific escapades.

We feasted on wholesome meals and fresh fish (When sharks didn't steal it off the line)

For 14 days we bobbed up and down in an ocean blue and glassy.

The crew:
1 Swede. 1 Fin. 1 Frenchie. 1 Dutchie. 1 German.
2 Scotts. 2 Kiwis. 2 Poms.
1 Gypsy. 1 manky teddy bear.

After trying to reel this guy in for hours, we lost most of him to a shark.

We stopped at the North Minerva reef  for a night and dived and snorkeled and kayaked  and enjoyed a safe anchorage as a storm blew in.

The sunrises and sunsets never ceased to amaze!
And even though we were hand steering without an auto pilot [again], having many hands on board meant you could find time to put your feet up.



Life at sea always makes you think.
Of people. Of places.
Of where you should be. And what you should be doing.

Do I not look enlightened???

And so it was that I realized I wasn't quite where I should be.
I was surrounded by more luxury than a gypsy of my caliber could handle.
I missed simplicity.
I missed roughing it.
Instead of blood, adventure pumped through my veins.

I felt caged by this beautiful vessel.
Trapped by comforts.
And so, after arriving in the beautiful land of Fiji, I've decided to jump ship, and steer my "vessel" in another direction (although I have no idea what the direction is quite yet)



It's a scary move leaving behind the beautiful smiles and faces and personas of this floating community, but it needs to be done.
Dwelling in place, job, boat, speedo or relationship (etc) you know you don't belong in is never a good idea!
For any reason!

As Sjostrom sets sail for Nadi, I'll be hopping off in Savusuvu with a bear and a tent and a backpack.
Even without any plans, I'm not too worried.
Life has a funny way of navigating you when you listen to your soul and follow that little inner voice
[that may actually just be your split personalities]

What would you do if you knew you couldn't fail?
Where would you go if you could go anywhere?
What legacy would you live if you were really living life to your full potential?

What's caging you? What's stopping you from having a happy life?? 

What would it take to make you a truly good [uncaged] egg??

And appologies if this was next level too deep...

I just completed an ocean passage :)

BearFoot Cycling - The Inception

You know how sometimes everything just aligns... 

You need exercise... 

You need warmer weather... 

You need purpose... 

You need less shoes in your life...

You need a new challenge... 

...And then BAMM!!!!!

 Just like that you're barefoot cycling 2700+ km with your ginormous teddy up the East Coast of Australia for a freaking awesome charity.

Day one... when all was clean, ungreasy, and sun-shiny

THE ROUTE

Seeing as I've never been there, and because it's substantially warmer up that way, I decided I'd go to Cairns. Seeing as I don't have a car, I  don't fly, and I'm not particularly fond of public transport, I decided I'd cycle - What better way to emerge myself in the hidden beauties of middle of nowhere Australia??

THE CHARITY

I was lucky enough to stumble upon these guys; their cause, philosophy and mission lined up pretty well with what I was setting out to do...

 BIKES 4 LIFE is one of those proactive charities that's saving, transforming and improving lives with the simple gift of a bicycle.

Located in Melbourne, Sydney, and Brisbane; they're a colourful group of legends collecting, restoring, and recycling old bikes for underprivileged communities around the world.

In remote communities, a bicycle is not only a means of transport to places of employment and education, but it also provides many with access to food, water, medicine and shelter.

One bicycle can support social rehabilitation and economic change and it is Bikes 4 Life's mission to get bicycles to some of the most marginalised and impoverished communities around the world.

To find out more // get involved // donate visit www.bikes4life.com.au

THE BIKE

Ninja (as I named him yesterday) is a beautifully recycled Bikes 4 Life Giant. 

He's fully equipped with all the mods and cons like brakes, gears, and 2 wheels.

I don't know very much about bikes (I'm not a cyclist), but I know that he has what it takes to get me to Cairns... I just hope I have the stamina to match.  

THE BEAR

The bear (or "Teddy Teddison" as stated in his passport) was given to me as a gift when I left Australia back in 2011. 

The challenge was to carry him for a month  - I ended up lugging him around for three and a half years and he has recently completed his first circumnavigation. 

He weighs in at just over 2 kg and has generally been quite a burden to bear; but he did save me from pirates in 2013 and he does make a reasonably comfy pillow (when he's clean-ish)

THE WARM UP

With the worst sense of direction and great aspirations, I set off from sun-shiny Sydney not too early on Tuesday morning.

I finally made my way out of the city and had a great ride exploring the beauties and smiles of the Central coast.

 

Day 2 bought with it rain

...And Teddy's foot got stuck in the spokes...

...And what I thought was a simple flat, was a fully blown outer tyre...

But with the help of the post man, the friendly residents of The Entrance, and the old bikes left out for council clean-up; a make shift wheel was created.

Day 3 saw the rear derailer get jammed and I was forced to do the majority of the day in one gear.

But it was good to go slow and appreciate the beauty of the Fernleigh trail.

The people at Newcastle Cycle Service did an amazing repair job; which made day 4 the best ride yet, despite having 2 more flat tyres.

I made it home (Tea Gardens) yesterday afternoon and took today off to rest my tender buttocks and do real world things like coffee and laundry... 

But tomorrow it begins again - and this is the real thing. 

2500ish km remain and while it's a pretty long way, the further North I get, the warmer it gets and I know that I have a flipping awesome cause to keep peddling for.

A Grave Revalation

Whilst I’ve changed my opinion on pirates, tomatoes and the meaning of life; I’ve always been a firm believer in the fact that all things are possible [except roller skating backwards through a revolving door while juggling knives and killer clawed kittens].

Everyone said it was impossible to drive from London to Mongolia in a tin-canish car.... But...

I never dreamed it possible to lug a ginormous teddy about for more than a year and I thought my  ability to cycle across countries even less likely... but...

As a kid I believed that humans could fly. I started a flying academy and whilst all the teachers thought it was cute that a bunch of people would chase me around the field flapping their arms; the hardest part of the academy was finding things high enough to jump off, devising flying contraptions (plastic bag parachutes, umbrellas, cardboard wings, etc), and [the hardest part:] coming up with feasible cover stories for parents and teachers when height + failed contraption = unfortunate incident/sprainage/breakature. I still believe humans can fly…  

and no, sky diving doesn't count...

Similarly I still believe that sailing a self-built raft across oceans is still possible (even if the first attempt was very unsuccessful). I still believe that I will lick a president some day (I’ve lost track of my failure tallies on this one). I still believe that someday I will have an empire… I still believe that I can successfully complete even the most unlikely challenges on my bucket list….

….But I had a grave revelation this week…. it only took 28 years to discover it….

I moved to Cape Town last Saturday to start a new job 8-30am on Sunday.  Lack of transport options led me to rekindle my hatred of the bicycle; cycling 20km in each direction between a house on a hill and a job on a far massiver hill. Fortunately my job involves swinging in the trees and making and keeping people happy (and a bunch of more boring admin/ managerial jumbo) – but it’s a taxing vocation that, combined with the lack of cycling fitness [or any fitness for that matter] in my life, and the need for a social life, and ever-present insomniacishness; has made this the most taxing week of my life!

The typical first day of work bruise

It's a lot less purple now, but it now bends in two very different directions

As I cycled home on Saturday night after 6 days straight of 9 hour shifts with a broken toe, the wind blew me off my bicycle and  onto the pavement shortly before a bird decided to expel its lunch on me on me and I burst into tears when it suddenly hit me…

…and I really don’t like this realization at all, or the ramifications of it…

….and I don’t know how this will affect the ’all things are possible’ philosophy…

….and I hope I’m not the only one that this applies to…

 …but…

 I’m only human. I have limitations.

About a Boat

I've pretended to be a lot of things this year:

A camel (slash backpacker):

 This is how I arrived in Indonesia after a whole year in Aus land

A nautical engineer (the boat sank)

A hardcore biker ganger (but we never really created any gang related havoc or got arrested)

 A cross continental cyclist (with  a crappy Chinese bike)-  

A hitch hike extraordinaire

And now I pretend to be a vegetarian sailor

Today marks one month of sailing for me and, if anyone knows me well, that's quite a long term commitment! So much so that I feel the need  to involve you in my life of nauticasity...

Firstly there's the crew: 

Four of us at present, with a fifth joining the ranks in Indonesia.

Captain Kirk, apart from being our skipper, is also our in-boat chef extraordinaire - without him a diet of peanut butter and chilli coated starches would prevail

James is our Engineer, plumber, electrician and resident DJ - he likes to subject us to the wholesome lyrics of murderous gangster rock. And fortunately he also fixes our toilets and fans when they brake.

Teddy is the mandatory slob that lazily lounges about watching other people work - because there always has to be one.

I'm not sure what my actual job description would be now that I no longer provide sea sick amusements by hanging over the port side but "resident licker" slash "rapid consumer of expiring first aid supplies" (I tend to injure myself all too frequently) will suffice for now.  

We'll start with the deck, shall we? It's all good and well having an autopilot on board, but the amount of fishing nets and tankers and freak wooden planks and killer whales (I say this in hope that we may actually see some whales soon) about means that there always needs to be someone on the watch - day and night

It's tough being at the helm (actually, sometimes it really is)

In calm waters it's brilliant and you can see for miles and relax, but in bad weather and strong waves the horizon bends to 45 degrees... I for one had no idea that boats could tilt so much without flipping!

Inside we have the saloon (dinning table) where teddy currently resides (man am i glad I don't have to carry him anymore)

 We have a remarkably open plan kitchen (galley) for a boat - if only I knew how to cook!

My 'stateroom' (bunk) used to be, and I quote "a glorious wardrobe closet" and when the boats not rolling about too crazily, it's the comfiest bed I've probably ever had!

To use the toilet ('head') you need to pump water in and then pump everything out after use - This alone should ensure that some day I will actually own arm muscles.

Everything onboard has bizarre names and bizarrer purposes and whilst I still confuse my mains with my gibbs and often untie the wrong sheets and tangle up the black loopy thing, I've made massive progress and can generally steer without crashing - I also know now that you should always puke leeward.

We've done some mammoth supply shopping sprees

This picture holds 47 blocks of cheese and a very happy amrican

And some mamother fuel missions (lugging almost 3000 litres of fuel in 20 litre jerry cans is no easy feat!) 

I've just feasted on a delicious popcorn and chilli sandwich and we're finally sailing out of Malaysia - next stop, Indonesia.

Diary of a Pretend-to-be-Biker : Why most People Take the Bus

By the 7^th hour of my three hour bus ride to Saigon, Vietnam - covered in the drool of my fellow passengers who mistook my shoulders for pillows - I swore I’d never take the bus again and 10 days later, I’ve managed to keep that promise…

After a spontaneous Sunday stroll through motorbike dealers and a couple of hours of negotiating, haggling, and pretending I knew what I was talking about (not that it would have made any difference really seeing as nobody speaks English anyway) I headed to the safe confines of my hostel on Percy – Who I now know is a 93cc Chinese look alike bike (that says “Made in Korea” on the side). I do love him anyway.

Five minutes later I slammed on my breaks as a suicidal biker whacked the motorcycle in front of me straight into a car. Less than a minute later, another accident. It’s not surprising really, there’s about 100 motorbikes per Capita in Ho Chi Minh City. My first stop was the helmet shop – I didn’t really believe I’d want a $1.40 helmet being my only lifeline… I forked out $10 instead.

By my second day of proud ownership the indicators, hooter, and speedometer had all decided to take a vacation… but no worries… mechanics in these parts can fix anything – and by the end of it Percy was less Chinese already. I got the oil changed and tweaked the breaks too and was all set for the 1800ish km adventure that lay before me.

Proudly accomplishing the impossible - all my worldly belongings on one bike!

Day 1: Tuesday 14 Feb

I delayed departure as long as possible – the traffic freaked me out and I thought it impossible to fit all my worldly belongings onto one bike (even if the general population does it on a daily basis with grandparents and children aboard too). But it worked brilliantly and by 9 am I was winding in and out traffic, doing loops of the city trying to find the road out of town. I suppose I should have thought of maps.

 was loving life until some part of my back wheel dislodged itself and had the whole bike screaming at me. Mechanic visit the second was even free… and apart from the minor glitch, I survived the 227.7 km drive to Mui Ne effortlessly!

Day 2: Wednesday 15 Feb

After a morning spent racing kids on bum boards down sand dunes I set off for Da Lat only to discover a fuel leak which took a 9 year old only about two hours to fix (after I finally managed to act out the problem)…

The rolling hills and rural villages had me feeling like I was living in a movie and when dark descended 100 km out of town I didn’t mind finding a random village hotel to crash in.

Day 3: Thursday 15 Feb

I’m proud to say I survived a whole day mechanic free which in retrospect is a massive accomplishment, even if it was only a 100 km drive… My randomly acquired roommate in Da Lat (Land of wine and flowers and the crazy house – definitely worth a visit) wasn’t so lucky though – she was blown off the road by a speeding truck and had just returned from the hospital…

 Day 4: Friday 16 Feb

Rain. Masses and masses of rain. Mixed with the fog and mountainous clouds it made visibility very poor which really isn’t ideal when you’re gliding through some of the most beautiful mountainous terrain on earth and it’s even less ideal when the roads come standard issue with pot holes and speeding busses… but mind-blowing none the less. I was happy to arrive In Nha Trang 258 km later though – mostly for a warm shower!

Day 5: Saturday 17 Feb

With the need to celebrate a friend’s birthday for a third day in a row and an urge to actually explore places, I let Percy rest and spent the entire day aboard a local boat exploring islands with half the world’s Irish population.

Day 6 : Sunday 18 Feb

I was wondering how exactly my ex-roommate had been blown off the road. But Sundays ocean breeze was more hurricane like than anything else, and when it wasn’t blowing you off the road it made headwind that would let you max out at 30 km an hour. The rain didn’t help either… but the coastal road made it all worthwhile – mountains and beaches strewn with sporadic luminous green rice paddys for kilometers on end! I only made it as far as Tuy Hoa (137 km) but I didn’t mind too much – it’s a fascinating little town!

Day 7: Monday 19 Feb

I was quite impressed at my wind resisting abilities and even the pouring rain didn’t get me down. I was making great progress and with my ipod blaring I was loving life!

I was ironically trying to find a mechanic (Percy’s battery’s dying fast) when I got my first ever motorbike flat – very different from a car really in that you have to balance yourself, the bike, and the 30 kilogram odd luggage strapped onboard. I somehow managed to dodge the passing truck and was lucky enough to be only meters away from a tyre repairsman (of which there are so so many). An hour later I was on the road again thinking back to the 21 flat tyres I got in Mongolia a few years previous when it happened again.

Wheel change take 1

Wheel change the second

 I pushed Percy to the closest repairsman and tried to explain that there must be some sort of actual problem to lose the same tyre twice and they assured me there wasn’t – but then again, I’m not entirely sure they understood either… This time it was only a 30 minute wait and 1/5 of the price. I drove off slowly stopping every couple of kilometers to check the tyre.

Wheel change the third

I was beginning to believe the problem was solved when the bike next to me waved me down and I felt the bike swerve below me. This time I used photographs and a diagram and charades to explain my predicament and I’m still not sure he understood – but he did double-line my tyre and there was literally nothing else I could do – I even checked the wheel’s inside myself…

10 km passed, 15… everything was going great until masses of sparks started flying and the loudest scratching filled the air just as school kids filed out for home time. I didn’t even want to look – the wheel had exploded for sure…

Fortunately enough it was only the chain guard that had come apart and wedged itself in the wheel and a quick visit to a welder had me sorted.

I’m still not sure whether my tyre problem’s have been solved – but I’ve decided to crash in Bong Son for the night in a hotel that also sells coffins (no jokes). There’s no English, no wifi, and I’m pretty sure there’s no house keeping either… but that’s okay, because if I don’t get eaten alive by the bed bugs and if my bikes alright in the morning (assuming it doesn’t get “borrowed” in the night) then I’ll actually get to post this and we can all have a good cup of coffee to celebrate aliveness!

Now this might all sound pretty pessimistic, but I’d do it all again if I had the option – this picturesque country was made for the motorbike!!! Tomorrow starts a new day and I’m hoping a good night’s sleep will mark the end of my worries!

Most people just take the bus… I can understand why.