Impossiblity is everything

The very best things I've ever done were all once labeled impossible.

I'm a 29 year old barefooted gypsy, intrepidly traveling the world with a ginormous teddy and a cable-tied-together backpack; stopping regularly to gawk at magnificence and occasionally to lick national monuments, weirdnesses of nature, people of interest and hopefully some day a president... Not exactly what younger me [or my mother] envisioned for my life... 

After a whole morning spent throwing up over the railings of Fiddler, and an afternoon cuddling up with my old friend Buckie; I was seriously contemplating my purpose and place in life. I was pretty sure I'd missed my calling (unfortunately I hadn't missed the boat, I was on it...) I was also pretty sure that the next thing to be thrown up was my vital organs and that death was imminent.

(Meet Buckie; my best friend in all things spew related)

I watched helplessly as my crew steered us towards Antigua, knowing full well that surviving the 170 miles remaining was impossible. But finally (22 spews later, I was counting) I Managed to keep a seasick tablet and an apple down and eventually I found the strength to stand up again and by the next afternoon, we found land.

Antigua is the mega yacht capital of the world and cruising into Falmouth Bay we felt like a toy. After all, we are only 60 foot...

Perspectives change quickly though, only a couple of hours later we watched the first of the transatlantic rowers pull into the harbour. In light of their 46 days of constant paddling in a little raft tossed about by massive waves and capsizing thrice;  my triumph over a days seasickness seemed minuscule, and Fiddler seemed massive. 

I suppose it's all of life's challenges (both big and small) that remind us we're alive. And it's the victories in conquering them that make life worthwhile.

For the sail from Antigua to Barbuda, I was prepared. But after 2 months of cruising the Caribbean, dodging yachts left right and centre, I was totally unprepared for the raw, untouristed perfection that the island threw at me.

 

 

It was on a long solitary expedition of beautifulness that my mind kicked into reminiscive action. I thought long and hard about all the epic adventures I've had, all the incredible people I've met along the way, all the challenges I've overcome, and how much life as a gypsy has taught me. It struck me how all those times I was staring death in the eye, on the verge of broke-ness, feeling the loneliest ever, or completely overcome by purposelessness; that preceded all my lifetime highs! 

Yes, impossibility is everything. If it's too easy, it's probably not worth doing.

You may not feel like you've accomplished much in life, or you may feel like you're aimlessly floating through it; but sit back and contemplate the extraordinaryness of your life accomplishments thus far and I'm sure you'll agree that life is freaking fantastic and that in fact all things are possible!

"Impossible!!"

SOoooooO I've done it... I've cycled to the border! My calves are bigger than ever, Teddy is dirtier than ever, I feel gypsier than ever,  but after those early days in Vietnam where I swore daily I'd be throwing my bike away, I can't believe I survived this far! My gears are absolutely destroyed to the point that it's impossible to pedal on anything more than a 30 degree incline [which really sucks because I'm finally fit enough to pedal uphill]  My chain is half oil, half mangled metal, my shocks are gone and my spokes are poking in every direction except the right ones. But I'm here! I'm finally here!

Best sign in the world

The 125 km ride from Fang to Chiang Rai was phenomenally picturesque and even though I had to push my bike uphill for 11 exceptionally steep killometers, and the road suddenly vanished in places, and the snakes were actually living this time, it was my best day of riding yet! And it sucked me into exploring the area's awesomenesses!

Worst sign in the world...

The white temple Chiang Rai - it even has pictures of spider man and the simpsons inside

There's something about going to bed at 6 am that starts you off a little shaken and when the roads are half dirt, half stone, half oncoming trucks on a single lane - riding is a little rough!!

Chiang Saen is great though - while trying to negotiate my way onto a cargo ship, I've met at least half of the town including immigration who assured me my quest was impossible, the customs officials who have great admiration for my Teddy bear but also tell me I'm not going anywhere; I've met the cops who led me to a travel agency specializing in Chinese travel ('Not possible" was their response), I've met the people who used to operate the now cancelled ferry ("too dangerous"), I've met many curios onlookers who just shook their heads and pretended to hold guns and then shook their heads again and I've met Mark.

It's amazing that after so much certainty that I have to cycle to Chiang Khong and take the ferry to Laos first, it takes only one person (Mark) to listen properly to your request and try and understand and it takes only about 24 phone calls, a few interpreters (Chinese, Thai and English) and before you know it you're probably boarding a ship that is probably leaving some time on Monday to somewhere in China. And that's just about more than I could have hoped for at this point.

Apparently today's Saturday which gives me just enough time to finish up Thailand with a few more massages and green curries and good coffees before jetting off into the unknown abyss that is China and it's perfect really - I'm the first person to ever stay at my just opened guesthouse that overlooks the Mekong river and Laos and Myanmar and well, life is pretty brilliant. For now at least; we'll see what Monday holds!