Losing Yourself in the World

Lake Tagimaucea, Fiji

Where would you be sitting right now if you'd said "yes".

What would you be doing? 

Who would you be?

Wilson's prom, Australia

I had everything to lose. [Or at least I thought I did].

I lived in a perfect home with amazing housemates {and even owned some of the the furniture]. 

I was semi-self-employed with more random, yet exceptionally fun, work contracts than the amish have children.

I had great friends, and my family was just down the street. 

I was young and free and, by my own standards, I was a success.

Drinking toxic floats with a brother.
Joburg, South Africa

But did I want to travel the East coast of Africa with some of my besties? YES!

Was I prepared to move out of my perfect home? 

Not really.

Could I sacrifice 3 months of my life to do it?

Probably not.

Was I willing to leave other people to look after my work contracts?

No way!

Did I have the money to do it?

No chance!

The safety and beauty of the homelands

Dietary alterations, Malawi

I'm not sure why I did it.

I'm not sure how I broke myself free from the comforts of life.

I was young. 

I was naive. 

I had determination and adventure. And a brand new backpack.

The world was mine for exploring!  

It wasn't an easy descision, but it was the best descision I ever made: I said "Yes."

Cliff jumping, Aling Aling, Indonesia

Every jolt of every bus, ferry, truck, and car  knocked wisdom and sense into my life. I changed from a Joburger to a citizen of the world. I had no idea how intoxicating wanderlust could be and before I  knew it; I transformed from a tourist to a traveller: a student of Earth.

Ijen volcano, Java

Kudat, Borneo

Stone Henge

I found myself lost in some of the most beautifully remote places on Earth. Every day was a chance to reinvent myself. Every day bought with it new lessons, new cultures, and a new [dirtier, scruffier, more care free] me.

Perth, Australia

I started chasing challenges. I found myself setting unrealistic goals. If something was deemed "impossible" I would try it. If a destination was "too difficult to get to" I'd aim for it. I stopped taking busses and started travelling by thumb, bicycle, horse, motorbike, sailing boats... I forgot motorbike, sailing boats... I forgot about deadlines. I forgot about comforts. I forgot about time.

Kioa, Fiji

Pnom Phen, Cambodia

New wheels, Cambodia

Suddenly I wasn't a scrawny, naive 22 two year old anymore. The [meant to be] three month trip had somehow spanned 9 years.

I still live out of the same backpack (although you can barely recognise it now). The contents have been overhauled countless times and there isn't even a remnant of fancy outdoor gear left. My body is a mangle of souvenir-scars tattooed on by the greatest artist of all: adventure herself.

The first significant scar acquisition, from falling into a volcano in Kenya

Today I'm sat in Fiji, a somewhat tropic paradise ravished by a recent cyclone.

I'm about as far away from South Africa as I could possibly be - but looking at the smiles of the people around me. 

The welcoming spirit.

The generocity.

The sense of humour.

The hugs, and the acceptance... I'm home.

Nawakalau, Fiji

Yes, if I'd stayed behind I might have a big corporation, I may be a home owner, I might even have a family of my own... Hey, I could be president (if Trump, Jacob, and Keates can do it, anybody can!)...
Instead i have a dismal bank account and almost nothing in the way of material possessions, but traveling taught me so much... in fact it made me rich.
Man am I glad I said "Yes"!

Still the most disgusting place I've stayed (that's poo dropping down the walls behind me) and it was a "luxury hotel". Kazakhstan

Plenty

Welcome to the land of plenty!

A land ripe with plenty of coconuts.

I'm still perfecting my coconut shaving techniques.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Where everyone has plenty of kids.

 

All of whom can climb coconut trees in seconds and effortlessly use a machete before they can walk.

There is plenty of muscles to help out whenever you need it.

There are plenty of fish in the sea (and plenty of fear of sharks in the sea, so if do go in, you have plenty of room to splash around)

  

 

There are plenty of friends to be made.

Left to right: Latisia (Qamia), Ben (Austria), Debra (Taveuni), me (South Africa), Damian (France)

There are plenty of people who invite you to share their homes and their villages.

There's plenty of food.

And plenty plenty of sugar.

Vatu Lele village

Malau village

Korowai Settlement

There are plenty of new skills to learn

 

And plenty of beautiful places to see.

And plenty of ways to get there.

Taking the ferry from Buca Bay to taveuni

Taking the morning school bus to Lobasa

 Plenty of amazing sunrises and sunsets

But there's also plenty of cyclone damage.

Plenty of poverty.

Plenty of sickness and medical problems.

There's plenty of hard work to be done.

Every single day I have been taken in and housed and showered and fed and served and  and overloaded on love and sugar and smiles.

(I'm not sure why I'm still carrying a tent and a cooker)

It's funny how those with the least always give the most.

 

 

 In Fiji they don't have the newest gadgets.

They don't have the biggest houses.

They often don't have shoes, or fancy name-brand clothing.

They share beds and bedrooms.

They share everything.

But you can ask any Fijian if they have enough, 

and the answer will always be the same:

They have PLENTY!

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 :)

Descisions

They say that 10 years of doing something makes you an expert... 

But after 31 years of practice I'm so bad at making descisions that I can't even spell the word. 

I descided that my thirties would be a progressive decade where I leaped forward and lived a lot; grabbing life by the testicles and valiantly tackling all of life's problems as they were thrown at me. 

I successfully cycled over 5000 kilometers across Australia for the amazing charity that is Bikes 4 Life.

The last leg of the trip (and the first leg in lycra) down the Great Ocean Road (Feb, 2016)

I conquered both the Southern tip of Australia and Mount Kosciuszko with an over-sized teddy bear and a torn achilles.

Mount Kosci (Feb 2016)

Wilson's Prom (Southern tip - Feb, 2016)

I survived the first family reunion in 6 years (and Sydney).

NSW, Feb 2016

I braved the flight to New Zealand and valiantly hopped around by the power of onesy (and thumb).

South Island New Zealand, March 2016

I out-paddled a storm as we kayaked the Abel Tasman.

Day 1 of 5 paddling the Abel Tasman, March 2016

I tackled my first grade 4 white water rapids (only because I was too slow to hop out and carry my pack raft).

Hiking out to the Pelorus river (March 2016)

I licked the tip of the South and the top of the North.

Absolute South (Mar 2016)

Top of North, May 2016

And then I descided it was time to complete my circumnavigation by other-peoples sailing boats.

Whangerei, May 2016

I've spent the last few weeks hunched over with terrible back ache and chronic knots in the shoulder and what feels like cows roaming and grazing on the inner lining of my stomach. My heads been on a spin cycle for 25 days and I still struggle to get a clean thought out of it. I've been unable to function on any normal level; and as you might imagine, that's not quite fitting for my gypsy regime. Why you ask? I've had a terrible case of indecisiveness!

There were too many boats owned by far too many nice people heading in far too many exotic tropical directions and I just didn't know how to chose. Fiji or Tonga or Vanuatu or New Caledonia?? Sail with a family or a couple or a single hander? Do a delivery or go cruising? A mono-hull or a cat? Step aboard as crew or take plunge and go captain?... The descisions were endless!!! And every time I was about to comit (another word I can't spell) a new option would appear.

Yesterday I finally descided to cut the crap and I did it - I took the plunge and made a big life descision! I've just hopped aboard my new home and in the morning we set the sails and wish new Zealand goodbye and well... [watch this space] ... 

Apparently descisions are going to haunt us for the rest of our lives. And you know what? It's probably a good thing!  For most descisions it doesn't matter so much what you choose: The chicken or the beef... going commando or granny panties... it doesn't matter where you go and what you do ... but you only have one life so make sure you make epic ones!