Thank You for being Born

Coming home is not quite as easy as you might think. 

Even when you "just take a plane"...

While everyone else breezed past security, I had that bear scanned at all five airports on the way (Cairns. Bali. Bangkok. Addis Ababa. Johannesburg). 

Apparently either he or I look like we might be pushing drugs or smuggling some small children inside (although I'm not quite sure how I might have gotten said "small children" inside). 

And yes it was great to lick South African soil (some may call it "airport floor") 

and have my grandmother smiling and ready to make me her eternal housemate, never allowing me to venture off on another adventure ever again; 

but I had to keep her waiting an hour while I attempted to change $20 into rands. 

I didn't own an address or a phone number... even with a foreign passport, this simple task was impossible!

It took me four days and five attempts to try and acquire a phone number [luckily Ouma came in to rescue me... she'll have to do the same again as I attempt to unfreeze my bank account...]  

Meet Ouma. She's amazing!

I tried to hire a car, but without a credit card, nobody wanted to give me one. 

That's okay I suppose, I have started exploited our non-existent transport system for what it's not worth! 

And have enjoyed a whole host of incredible "taxis" with a plethora of friends and family!

But despite the bureaucracy and transportlessness, I have to admit it is flipping good to be back.

 I've spent a few days with my brother and his "pets". 

I've witnessed the miraculous growth of families as almost everyone I know has milked their wombs for their fertileness.

 I've spent time with my granny and cousins and friends. 

And I even had the privilege of crashing a best friend's wedding!

Brother

And just one of his many pets.

Look how fertile South African soil is...

It was a great wedding to crash too!

On long flights, in bank and sim card queues, on long bus rides, 

and while trapped in camp by herds of elephants; I've had much time to think and reminisce. 

I don't think any of you have an inkling of an idea of how incredible you really are and how much you've given to my life! 

In fact the list of people I need to thank for keeping me alive, off the streets, out of prison, and with a smile on my face is impossibly long!

They seem to get a kick out of trapping you inside

Some of you I have known for years and you've actively shaped and guided my life; 

you've put up with my nonsense, 

encouraged me, inspired me, given me all sorts of sound advices, 

and you've supported my weird life directions (sometimes with bated breath). 

For that I thank you profusely! 

But there's also all those people who hitched me (to get an ice-cream, or across countries, or oceans).

And those who hitched with me. 

Those who helped me reach dreams (like getting out of prison, or spending a day filling in potholes, or visiting Ikea, or building a raft and sailing it out into the ocean...) 

The amount of people who have taken me in for a night (or a month), 

those who have have fed me, 

or eaten with me (thank you too to the cannibals who refrained from eating me), 

who have kept me entertained and positive through all sorts of trials and tribulations and the hours/days/weeks of border crossings.

On some random border somewhere in central Asia 

Turkmenistan: where every time you stop to ask directions, you get welcomed in for a meal!

Thank you for random hugs and laughs and adventures.

Thank you too to those who carried a scowl and a frown; your misery reminded me I needed joy.

Thank you to all those who stop and help when crises strike!

Three flat tyres, at the same time in Mongolia.
A party ensued with all those who stopped to help!

In fact. It doesn't matter who you are, and whether I've known you for a minute or a decade; 

I want to thank you for being born! 

There's a reason you are here, and the world is a happier, friendlier, and epicer place because of it!

Somewhere in Australia with some happy people who made my week!

Wealth, Wonder and Weddings

It's a bit of a shock to the system when you're bolted from a life of scummy hotels and squating with rodents and bedbugs and street food to perfection. And I don't use this word loosely either. Koh Samui was perfection.

...I arrived at the wedding at the exact same time as the bridal precession began the decent onto the picturesque beach - just before sunset. (45 minutes late... but that's another story). And wow... I thought I was immune to 'mushy' things but as Deborah Leigh Morris took Philip James Something-with-a-C-or-K to be her lawful wedded husband I sobbed like a little girly girl. I couldn't have been happier for them and the love they find in each other.

... But Let me rewind a little...

After having all my underwear (and other personal belongings) stolen, I was in great form at the bachelorette - smelly, sweaty and miserable. A few friendly familiar faces later all the bad was history and hugs and thai food were to be overly gorged on... Before taking time to remember why we'de all come together in the first place... alcohol... I mean, Debbie... that girl's an absolute ledgend and if you don't know her you should...

Day 2 on Koh Samui became a mad rush to finalise wedding presents and in the process I met a lovely hair dresser who spoke no the English. She washed my hair about 18 times (clearly I needed it) and as a result of no speaking the English,  I am now the proud owner of a fringe. I'm still trying to work out what to do with it...

I spent a good portion of the afternoon trying to find my hotel again and then proceeded to get lost on the way to the wedding... So despite cycling almost 1000 km, hitching, bussing, boating and tuk tuking for three weeks... I still didn't make it quite on time. But as I watched the sky light up with wish balloons sailing off into the halo-ed sky, nothing else mattered right then. I'd made it. They'd wed. And the world was exactly as it should be (even if everyone sported an afro by the end of a sweaty night on the dance floor and ended up jumping in the ocean to finish the night... like I said perfection!)

Debs and Phil you guys are legends and I would travel twice as far to see you guys unite again... May your lives together be brilliantful and epic and go on forever!

Robbed, Raped, Beaten

I might have mentioned before how much I hate busses. And I do. I despise them – but sometimes you have to suck it up, [wo]man up, board them and live the nightmare… sometimes.  This was one of those times.

With only 2 days to make a wedding, I could put off the long trip to Koh Samui no longer. I wondered over to my side of the road travel agent who spoke no English who led me to a random ATM and motioned for me to wait. Being an obedient traveller I did but it was a little bizarre lurking around a cash point. Others arrived in drips and drabs and within the hour the street was abuzz with ‘ferangs’ heading to Southern Thailand.

Two hours of lurking later the bus arrived and we set off on the 12 hour over night trip to Surithani where we were hearded like zebra into minivans heading in different directions. I happened to be sentenced to the wrong bus and after a friendly Thai woman intervened the driver said – “no problem, I first drive Phuket then take you Samui…” – these two places are on opposite sides of the country. The friendly woman intervened in Thai again and the, a minute of jabberish discourse later yelled “nobody give him money. Somebody call the police.” And there was a mild onset of panic .

Twenty minutes later though the remnants of my bus were offloaded at a food stall and I enjoyed a private shofar ride to a ferry port where I enjoyed the finest instant coffee and a billon mosquito rapings. By 8am the rest of my VIP bus arrived, stuffed into the back of a tuktuk... somehow I always manage to be separated from the pack.

Instead of a boat, a bus arrived to drive us further off the beaten track to an actual ferry point from where we rehearded into boats and sent to islands near and far. By 2pm, 19+ hours after leaving Bangkok, I finally touched down in Bangkok. Another hour and a half later, I arrived at my budget hotel, checked in and B-lined the shower!

As I opened my bag I knew something was wrong… my toiletry bag was near empty was the first hint… my underwear was amiss… I poured the contents of my life onto my crooked double bed and began a sort… It was official – I’d been robbed.

You hear about I all the time – people’s luggage being rummaged through while you’re sleeping, but you never expect it to happen to you. I mean, in 4 and a half years of aimless world wonderings, my stuff has never been touched – EVER… now all of a sudden… I began the list of missing items:

My emergency cash fund – just in case my hand luggage was ‘borrowed’ – thankfully they left behind my second passport and my camera…

Earrings

The majority of my toiletry bag

My headlamp

My knife

Half of my first aid kit

My only good bra- My ONLY good bra. And this is when reality really sank in … the rest was all replaceable, but a decent bra in these parts is impossible to find… and how do you wear a travel bra to a wedding?? What kind of freak steals underwear anyway??

If I hated busses before, words cannot express my feelings towards them now… After 21 and a half hours of travel I’d been raped by bugs and mosquitoes, bizarrely robbed by strangers and with every other wedding guest flying to Koh Samui, I had been beaten by all on their 2 hour flight. But I was finally there and I had to put my miseries behind me – The celebrations were about to commence!

Get me to the Church on Time

It's recently been bought to my attention that I have a wedding in 3 weeks. Not mine. No. That would be more worrying (mostly because I plan to elope and you can't pre-plan elopage).

Despite functioning as my moral reasoning on a frequent basis over the past 14 years, I need to express my annoyance at both my friend's choice of location and especially the timing for her wedding - Koh Samui (Thailand) - April 3rd. Seriously?? Koh Samui? I was in the area in January. I'm now 2163 km away in Hanoi, Vietnam and I don't fly. Flying isn't good for you!

I've spent the last two days seeking hitch hiking companions to avoid the 90 odd hour bus journeys and failed - quite miserably really... my last emaily reply was this:

Adeena,

Sorry, when I read about your plans I immediately became worried for 

you. Do not do this hitching please.

Even if you are the fattest ugliest horniest woman in the world you

are asking nee begging for trouble.

You plan to hitchhike through a couple of countries where Asian women

are kidnapped and sold in to sexual slavery.

Your a white woman.  DO you want to be trafficed like a piece of meat?

Beaten and starved into submission repeatedly raped?  Used like a rag?

I don't think you want that kind of adventure.  

A rape kit is some equipment that a western police department uses to

gather evidence after a rape.

Good luck,

J......

My newest steed... I'm absolutely terrified!!!

And I have decided I don't want any of that really - Asian food is far to good to be starved from. I really really don't.  So with three weeks to go to cross three countries I've done the most logical thing really I've just walked the streets of Hanoi and bought a good "new design bike" (definitely Chinese) my newest trusty steed. How I'm going to fit my massive bags, my massiver bear and bulging belly onboard is the first challenge and then it'll all be smooth sailing I'm sure... the route begins with some of the world's best traffic before hitting one of the world's most impressive mountain ranges.

Rohan, my bicycle buddy - he actually rides bikes and his bike's not even Chinese....