Lesotho for Lunch

A one way ticket to Bloemfontein. Yes, I know what you're thinking...  

But it was good stuffing my measly supply of gypsy essentials into my pack again. 

It felt right stepping out of the front door and taking the hike down the road to the bus station. 

Good Friday is as "good" a day as any for thirteen and a half hour bus journeys. 

Adventure beckoned and once more I needed to heed it's call!

You're probably wondering what adventures could possibly lie in Bloemfontein? 

But did you know that they have a 24 hour disco bar at the tourism office? 

Did you know that Leon Schuster was born there?

And did you know that Lesotho is only a brick throw (two[ish] hours) away from the bustling  Town?

I had [sort of plans] plans. 

I had [kind of] a mission. 

I had a crazy adventure into unknown worlds ahead of me.

And then my mother phoned from China and reminded me that Easter was about family.

[And Jesus also of course]. 

So there I sat in Bloemfontein at 2am with the big questions ploddering about in my head:

Why do they have a 24 hour hour bar disco at the tourism office which also doubles as the bus station?

Why was Leon Schuster born?

But mostly I was wondering where to from here??!?

I'd planned to try and spend some time exploring Lesotho and maybe even venture into Swaziland before eventually heading to Johannesburg to surprise my granny for her birthday. 

But the family would all be celebrating both her birth and that of my cousins over Easter dinner...

I did what any of you might do in my situation.

I jumped into a taxi to catch a bus to the border. 

My brand new South African passport needed some stamps.

I needed a cultural experience.

I followed a friendly lady into a share taxi and explored the markets of Maseru before I clambered onto a bus to the next major town.

The conductor forced us deeper in to merge with the back of the already over-crowded bus.

A human mosaic of colourful blankets and vivid emotions. 

I eyed the rolling hills and tiny villages and building supply shops as more people were added to our human mangle.

Mountains. Goats. Potholes. Puddles. Smiling faces.

A few hours later we stopped.

Lunch.
Maluti.

And then I walked to the border and cleared out. 

I begged for a small portion.
The regular servings could feed a family for a month.

The police pointed me in the right direction, but I was only the third person looking for a minibus taxi to Johannesburg that day and if I was lucky we'd leave before dark.

I walked down the road and started hitching.

I felt bad about hitching after mum had sworn me never to do it in South Africa.

But if mum wanted me to be with family at Easter, there was no other way.

I got a ride to Senegal. 

But before you get too excited, it's actually spelled "Senekal" and that place is is not all that exotic.

From there I got a very entertaining education on the South Africa I did not know as we bounced along a potholed road to Vereeniging (not all that exciting a spot either).

I tried to make friends on the minibus taxi to Jo'burg but nobody paid me any attention.

I wanted to know where exactly we were going? 

I wanted to know there was a way out of downtown Johannesburg in the dark. 

I wanted to know I'd be safe.

But 'safe' became a distant notion.

Monica turned around and whispered to me that she would help me, but it was not safe to talk to people on taxis. The man next to me agreed and told me how the gangs of Jo'burg now operate. 

A man at the back told me never to question anybody anything, because then you owe them. 

You walk like you know where you are going, even if you do not have a clue. 

At almost every corner are touts who want your money, your luggage, and [of late] your dignity. 

And then the whole taxi got involved with helping me make a plan to get to my granny.

As we stepped off the taxi I had a whole load of new friends, but I was not allowed to talk to them. 

Looking more touristy than ever

[With my backpack and rainbow gypsy pants]

 I was to follow them a few blocks to another taxi rank 

but pretend like I did not know them. 

Their helping me would get them into all sorts of trouble. 

This was one ride for me, but a regular commute for them.

I was not allowed to greet anyone. 

I was to stare straight ahead and walk with purpose.

They nodded to the Alexandra taxi and I climbed on.

"Balfour please" I called to the driver.

"I'll hold your bag" said the friendly man next to me.

I declined.

"Do you know the area?" he asked later.

"Yes." I replied, feeling bad for being short.

When we passed Balfour Park, I asked my friendly neighbour if I was remembering it right.

"Yes." He replied and then demanded five rand for the information.

I laughed, asked the driver to stop at the next convenience store and called Ouma.

And then there was family.

And [stinky-two-day-travelling] hugs.

And then a shower.

And then less stinky hugs.

There was an Easter egg hunt.

And church.

And more [even cleaner] hugs.

And laughing. And celebrations. And a feast.

Mum was right.

Family is the best way to Easter.

But Swaziland for Supper?

Thursday?

Who's coming with me?

The Good Life

You need a change of job. Or maybe just a job.

You need to lose weight. And build muscle.

You need more friends. Less enemies.

You need more hours in a day.

You need less distractions.

More adventures. More money to afford adventures. More leave. More time.

Hell, you need to find the one. Your life partner. That person that will complete you. And, of course, adventure with you.

You want to be rich. Or at least richer.

You want chocolate.

MORE:

Free time. Laughing. Hugs. Singing. Dancing. 

Love. 

Sunshine. Yes. Wine. Good coffee. Unsuspected random acts of kindness. 

Tears of joy. 

Chilli. 

Exercise. Giving. Challenges. Music. 

Hammocks. Cowbell. Trust. 

Epic.

LESS:

Worry. Pain. Suffering. Wasted time. Crappy TV. 

Hate. 

Guilt. Blobbing. Social Media. Loneliness. 

No. Pirates. Unfriendly sharks. 

Zuma. 

Diets. Regrets. Boredom. Gossip. Crappy pop music. 

Rules. Red robots. Fillings. 

Inflation.

Stop wanting more. Stop thinking about all the things you need. Focus on what you have.

The good life starts when you stop wanting a better one.

Find your Passion. Find your Purpose.

“The two most important days in your life are the day that you are born,
and the day you find out why.”
- Mark Twain

I guess I've got a lot to look forward to then...
I don't have a clue why I was born, but I'm quite glad that I was.
This world is a terribly beautiful place and I would have hated to miss out on it.

A good friend recently taught me to make inverse bucket lists so that instead of simply talking about all the amazing things you're one day going to [maybe] do with your life,
you make a list of all the great things you have already accomplished.
Not for anyone else, but so that you can recall them, and remember the things they taught you.
That way you don't have to think and plan too much.
You just have to jump at opportunities and say “YES!”.
And if you don't, your list stays empty.

“Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing at all”
- Helen Keller

I'm sitting in my new room in my new house in my old country and older age contemplating.
There's quite a lot to contemplate.

But as another year draws to a very rapid premature end, I need both red wine and reminiscence and re-evaluation. [And you may think this sentence wrong, but I have two kinds of wine].

Looking back, it's quite easy to feel like a failure, to look back at regrets, failures,
and the bad hair days of 2016.
Personally I'm an optimist.
It may sound like a pleasurable happy thing, but when it comes to making plans and setting out what you want to do with your life, it's quite easy to get carried away.

This year:

I set off to finish my circumnavigation. I gave up just before the end. I failed.

I attempted to find gainful employment. I quit twice, before getting paid. I failed.

I hoped to visit many many new exciting countries. I made it to three. I failed.

I was hoping to work out what I'm on this planet for. I'm even more confused now. I failed.

I thought it might be nice to finally meet the one. I failed miserably.

My life going up in flames [literally]

But the list of things I did accomplish is far longer.
And as far as I'm concerned the only set new year resolution I had was: “Survive 2016.”
I'm doing pretty well on that front.

How did you find 2016?
 What did you accomplish?
Who did you meet?
What did you do?
Who did you become?
How do you feel about all of that?

I got back to South Africa at just the right time to watch the world wind down.
People appear to be in a state of limbo-ed complacency as they count down the days till
Christmas leave.
It's been good to listen to people talk about what they want to do differently next year.
It's been good to remember why I chose a life of professional gypsyism.
It's reminded me even more about what I don't want to do with my life!

“Instead of wondering when your next vacation is,
maybe you should set up a life you don't need to run away from”
– Seth Godin

But still it is good to work. It is good to toil.
It's good to break a sweat and feel like you've accomplished something,
that you've led a life worthy of your calling.
Remember life's not meant to just be average!

“When I stand before God, at the end of my life,
I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left
and could say “I used everything you gave me” “
- Erma Bombeck

Top Ten Things To Do When Unemployed

Sleeping under a bridge isn't really as bad as they say it is.

It's time we had a little heart to heart. 

A hug in fact. And maybe even a high five. 

(Because let's be honest, we can't afford anything else...)

Now whether you chose the unemployment or the unemployment chose you doesn't really matter. What matters is that you make the most of it!

Milk it for every cent that it's worth (because you probably can't afford any other forms of calcium)

People often forget that unemployed people are people too! 

It's your duty to remind them that you have a soul! You have a heart! You used to have a job!

You could be sitting around lamenting the bastard who fired you or wondering why you quit.

You might be looking out the window and thinking you should clean it so you can at least know what sort of day it is now that you don't have to leave the house.

You might even [because I've heard it's possible] be getting bored of Solitaire and Pokemon.

Whatever state of disarray you currently find yourself in, I (a semi-professional unemployed gypsy) am about to attempt to share my advice on making the most of your unemployed journey.

[Please note that despite having numbers, these are in absolutely no particular order] 

10) Make New Friends

Everyone you know probably has a real job. A nine to five (or whatever "they" call it).

Or maybe you're in a new country/ city/ suburb?

Either way you're going to need some new people to hang out with!

It's not as daunting as it sounds!

The world is full of awesome people who need to meet you!

You can start by helping old ladies cross the road. They're probably retired and have all the time in the world for you (Think home cooking and awesome stories from their many years of existence).

Backpackers hostels are an ever ready supply of colourful people from around the world who are looking for an adventure. The turn-over rate for them being in town is normally so fast too that if you mess up, you can try again in a couple of days. 

Go door knocking - see who's home.

Crash house parties/ company golf days/ funerals (Make sure you dress for the occasions) 

Put an ad on Gumtree/ Craigslist. If you don't have the internet, make a cardboard sign and stand at the robots (traffic lights).

Try tinder.

If you're needing someone to talk to in a hurry I suggest you go down to the local tax office. 

The queues are generally ridiculously long, allowing you good quality time to really get to know the people around you.

I spent two days in the last week at the South African Revenue Service and made many new friends. Some of them have even invited me around for coffee.  

The opportunities are endless!

Crashing a German Christmas party in Freemantle
(I even made the group photograph)

9) Go to the Places That are too Busy on the Weekends.

Theme parks (imagine no queues and no-one to laugh at you wet your pants/ vomit!)

Beaches (Every wave is yours to surf.)

[But avoid nudist beaches in the week. They tend to attract the wrong sorts of overly excitables]

The movies (You can change seats every time an actor says the word "Vortex" [for instance] 

Make sure it's not school holidays first!!!!

An awesome day spent on our own "private" beach in Australia

8) Stalk People

Now obviously it's better if you try and do this without completely freaking people out [or getting arrested], but there's joy in that too.

Find people who have mad skills or jobs that you would like to learn and see how they do it.

Take a day/week/month and trail them carefully, watching their every move.

Ask questions when you don't understand. 

If you have nothing left to learn or no aspirations to learn from anyone else, purely just follow people to discover new areas, shops, and gaits.

[Disclaimer: I take no personal responsibility for anyone who takes this too seriously and does anything/everything against the law]

There are creepy, and there are less creepy ways to do said stalking

7) Get Uber Fit

Go for long runs and hikes and swims. 

Climb mountains [and box slide down].

Surf.

Learn to do the splits while rollerskating backwards.

Save money by walking or cycling everywhere, even if it takes you all day to get there (and if it does take a whole day, take a tent, because it will take a whole day to get back too.)

Even if you don't get uber fit, make sure you still go cardboard box sliding!

6) Write Your Memoirs

Everyone always dreams of writing a book.

Now's your chance, you've got the time.

And so what if you haven't done anything with your life yet? 

Write the book now and then go and lead a life that lives up to the legendness of the tale. 

Find the perfect spot and then start - even if you need to do it on paper

5) Find Creative Ways to Make Cash

Busk - you can earn heaps of money by being really good. But being really bad earns you just as much. (This is also chance to learn an [new] instrument)

Sell the belongings you don't need. And if they won't sell, creatively adapt them into something that will.

If you have no possessions you can always donate your eggs/ sperm/ and kidneys.

Blog (and if you learn how to make money from it, please teach me how).

Teach classes in successful unemployment-ism (or whatever else your specialty may be).

Become a self-acclaimed sommelier / beer connoisseur/ or personalized chef.

Walk dogs and/ or hyperactive children.

(I'm going to stop my list here because I need to keep some options for myself)

Take a temp or casual job.

You don't need to rush into a full time job that you'll probably hate [and that will definitely destroy your soul] just because you need cash.

At a traffic light in Johannesburg.
I made 50 bucks :)

4) Go on an Epic Adventure

Contrary to popular belief, you don't need money to travel!

Go down to your local marina and try hitch a ride on a boat.

Or hope on your bicycle and see where you end up.

Go visit those countries and cultures and places that you've always wanted to see!

Unemployment has taken me around the world one and a half times.

Spend all you have for the loveliness the world has to offer.

Hitch hiking to get to forbidden areas in Burma

3) Learn new Skills

Haven't you always wanted to[↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓]? Now's your time to practice.

yodel.

do a handstand.

read binary.

be a ninja.

undo all your bad karma.

memorize the entire periodic table of the elements.

navigate by the stars.

fish.

pole dance.

discover an undiscovered species or breed of germ.

make a movie.

sing opera.

Learning to do handstands.

2) Send Emails and Pictures to Long Lost Friends [and Enemies] and Family

You know how you always wondered what happened to such and such...

Or you've always wanted to thank [insert name here] for [insert thankful thing here]

This is your chance!

Better yet, send them actual hand-written letters or visit them.

Even if it's been years, and they might not remember who you are, they are still going to enjoy hearing from you! 

And remember that if you don't hear back from them, they're either just jealous that you're unemployed or too busy doing boring job stuff.

I'm still flipping grateful to these guys for getting me started as a gypsy!

1) Look for Jobs

But don't make getting employed your primary concern.

People tend to get so fixated on getting a job that they forget to enjoy their freedom. 

Jobs will always be there, free time won't!

Make sure you're looking for something that you really want to do - Why did you quit [or were you a rubbish employee] at the last job? 

Jobs take up such a huge portion of your life that you really don't want to be wasting hours of your short existence for a measly pay check!

Apply for jobs that are above you.

Challenge yourself!

Yes, they'll probably say no; but what if they don't??

In fact, while you're at it, if you can't find something you want to do locally; search the world.

Maybe it's time for a change of scenery?

Or maybe there's something awesome that you need to bring to your neighbourhood!

Jobs are a bit like partners; when you're not looking for them and obsessing about them, they find you!

This is an actual screen shot of my life last January

There's so many good aspects of the unemployed life!

Boredom is not an option!!

If all else fails, just go find something to lick!

Return of the Gypsy

Yes, it’ the sequel… It’s time to finish what was started…My old friend, Unemployment, has returned to me and it’s now or never (so obviously it’s now).

Back in 2010, when my Soccer World Cup contract had me forced to watch all 64 games (and I don’t like soccer all that much), I tried to keep it interesting- I said (and I am a woman of my word) “I’ll start in Australia (because there was no possible way they would win) and travel over land and sea to whatever country wins the World Cup.”

Soccer World Cup, RSA, 2010

 

In 2010 I flew to Perth, Australia, and the journey began. I hitched, I cycled, I acquired a giant teddy bear, I motor biked, I hiked, I constructed a boat – shipwrecked – swam, stowed away on a freight ship, sailed, and then in December last year I found myself back where I started; washed up on South African soil. 

World's dirtiest travelling bear at "birth" and 6 months...

Hitching China

Cycling across South Eat Asia

Motorbiking Vietnam

We built, we sailed, we shipwrecked 

My former crew aboard S/V Fiddler

Because I’m only a Part Time Professional Gypsy (PTPG), I took on the first real job of my life managing an adventure park (www.acrobranch.co.za– you should visit it) and then on Sunday, I handed over my responsibilities, left my amazing team behind, and officially resumed my mission.

I’ve packed up my life, said some goodbyes, had a most amazing Braai Day in Summerset West, and tonight I jump on a bus to Port Elizabeth where I hop on a yacht with a bunch of 60 year olds I’ve never met... 

Their destination: Spain.

 

Tonight I become a gypsy again. Tomorrow I meet my crew and remember how bad sea sickness is. By December this mission may be complete… but whatever happens, it’s time to lick, live and be awesome! I hope you're doing likewise!

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.

A Day in the Life of a Couch

I’ve made really good friends with the couch of late. There’s something about being the only unemployed individual in a house that leads you to find this kind of companionship. But I tell you now that it’s not a healthy relationship.

While I’ve given the couch a thorough vacuum and a lot of quality time, I’ve also given it popcorn kernels, sand, red wine, cereal and a nice bum-shaped indentation.

And whilst it has comforted me through the pretence of novel writing, the plottings of my million dollar empire, far too many Tarintino movies, and the aspirations of job hunting, it has also lulled me into a deep slumber on far too many occasions. It’s an evil couch.

The couch and I have become so close that yesterday, when the gigantanormous plumber walked in to fix our shower, I actually felt it squirm. And, when the plumber sat down to catch his breath after climbing two flights of stairs, I shared it’s agony in seeing its cushions pancaked to the floor. It pained me mostly because I’d never felt such a close connection to a couch.

And so, when plumber man finally left, so did I – it was exactly the motivation needed to inspire a jog.

And with my life potentially ending tomorrow with me boarding a flight (that’s right, I said the ‘F’ word), I need to put some distance between us (it makes tomorrow’s farewell easier too) and get out and make some real friends. Besides, couches offer no guidance in the ways of airplane survival and that’s what I need most in life right now (apart from coffee).

Rotted Milk

There are two types of choices: good ones; and bad ones.  Life’s a whole lot better when you make the good ones…

I should have realized this last week already. But I didn't  No, instead I didn't smell the milk before I used it on my cereal and coffee… At first I thought it just tasted bad because I had brushed my teeth first… Half way through I thought it might just be a new brand…

I thought I’d be a nice sister and cook dinner. But apparently chilli sauces aren't all the same.  Side-of-the-road-Mozambiquan-chilli-sauce is a force to be reckoned with. Dinner was severely diluted with milk. I forgot the milk was off…

3 hours into the document search....

SUCCESS!

And then came moving to Cape Town.  In an attempt to find one very
very very horrendously very important document, I took a trip to Benoni (Think mullets and wife beaters and children who are older than their parents). While it was lovely seeing family and having my first braai since 2010, I knew my mission. It took the better part of five hours, and courage I never thought I could cough up (I also coughed out a lot of dust and cobweb) – but I fought through four households of stored ‘stuff’ (our family being the first to have invaded the cousin’s garage) and came out with not only the document, but a lot more of my earthly belongings than I ever thought I owned. I’m pretty sure they bred and had offspring in my years of absence.

All my worldly possessions...

and the bicycle...

This made relocating home a lot harder than it should have been. Flying was out of the question. I had a full car load of ‘stuff’ so driving was out – not only do I not possess a car – but there was no way I’d drive the 1400 km alone. There are too many luggage limitations on the bus and well, I’d never taken the train…

Sunday morning I rocked up at the train station hoping there would still be tickets. “Sorry” said the friendly Malawian behind the counter “sold out till mid-Feb”. But I pleaded – “there’s no tickets at all??” and that’s how I bought my R340 third class hard seat on board the Shoshaloza Meyl to Cape Town. Like I said, it was a week of bad decisions.

The Zimbabwean next to me was under the impression that it was a 5 hour trip. I probably shouldn't have said anything about the ETA – I’ve never seen a black person turn that white.

Look at all the happy faces!

For every grown up on board there were 37.5 infants and for every seat between Klerksdorp and Kimberly, there were 3 grownups…

The toddlers joined their vocal chords to create a sound track to stay awake to and the plastic non-reclining seats made sure we did. But it could always be worse…  By 3am our carriage was full of police to break up the fights bought on by excessive quantities of alcohol and seat/ floor space reclaimage.

I made friends with 6 year old Kabelo who taught me all about fairies and princesses and marveled at the giftings her 3 year old sister possessed in finding and eating second hand chewing gum. I discussed business plans with people from 4 different African countries and finished reading a book I’ve carried for the last 3 months. But ask any person on that train and none of them will ever take it again. Not economy at least….

A very hot and smelly toilet overflowingly 29.5 hours later – past some breathtaking scenery and some sheep and 3 ostriches and a plethora of other stuff - we pulled into Cape Town. I felt like I’d just single-handedly fought the Vietnam war or run the comrades marathon… and won… and to make it even better, all of my belongings survived too.  

I suppose bad decisions are all part of life and they help you learn and become a better person… but they also get you upset stomachs and sleepless nights and possible diseases… From now on I aim to make only good ones. Life’s too short for 29.5 hour train rides…. 

How to make a Million... Maybe.

It was a bright and sunshiny Sunday evening. The pizza was ordered, the black label drafts were flowing… across from us sat a man with far too much butt crack showing, but the alternative views were Cape Town traffic or the smoking mob of under-agers out the back. It was the perfect setting for an epiphany. They always come when you least expect them.

I’m no exactly sure how you take five and a half years of random gypsyism and turn it into an exciting income generating backdrop. I can’t really remember all that much from varsity days and I’ve been out of touch with the real world for so long that I’m not sure I can return to a former type of employment. My major skills are falling, licking things, not dying, and generating random meaningless conversation with strangers. My CV has gaps. But this year I will make a million bucks. Or at least that’s the New Year’s resolution.

I’m nearing 500 days of absolutely no income (and proud of it) – it’s the perfect foundation for my quest.

Minimum wage comes to about R26 000 a year – which is only R974 000 short. If I sell everything I own and my second kidney I can probably push that up to R27 400 so it looks like I’m going to have to be getting crazy creative on this endeavor!

I’ve looked at the figures and will probably rule out cake sales and begging at the robots (traffic lights) but to succeed, it’s going to take every other sort of everything. I’ve decided to make Cape Town my base and also decided that I’d prefer not to be arrested, lose my soul, or die – but everything else goes.

I have no idea who ever takes the time to read these blog posts (if anyone) – but if you (whoever you may be) have any suggestions, please send them my way – I will give them a shot!

I tried really hard to make New Year’s resolutions this year. But I’m a goal orientated person… I need them.  And that’s why this is the year I become a millionaire…

Could this be how I make my millions...??