One Day In My Life – Travelling On The Road.

Here’s a brief account of one of the thousands of days I’ve had the pleasure of living on our pale blue dot.  This particular day was had on April 9th 2016 during my travels living in a campervan and on the remote roads of eastern Victoria headed toward New South Wales.

*Presses play to Nina Simone – Feeling Good*

 

It’s a new dawn, the sun peeking through the infinite trees of the forest camp site.

It’s a new day, full of prospect and possibility, headed on a journey if not a destination.

I’m feeling good, a sleep amongst the black of nature at night time with animals singing their sweet lullabies had me grasped tight in sleep and dreams.

So we(my girlfriend is my wandering partner, co-owner of The Batvan) pressed on and left the forest outside of the shimmering Lakes Entrance that had sheltered us for the two nights passed.  The only plan was to head upward toward the border of Victoria and New South Wales as we need  to get there toward April’s end to hopefully start our farm work as the citrus season kicks off.  After driving for fifteen minutes on the lonely road flanked by looming trees stood at attention, we pit stopped at a toilet in Nowa Nowa – a small town with just over one hundred denizens and a general store-cum-petrol station-cum information point.  Realizing from the signage just outside the toilet block, there were a few hikes to be had around Nowa Nowa.  After chatting to the friendly owner(?) of the multi-faceted general store for advice on hikes we set off on the riverside walk.

 

A small hike sticking to the upper banks of the Boggy Creek river allowed us a scenic view of this peaceful pocket of East Gippsland.  We spotted an old bridge made of seasoned wood that used to bear the weight of trains but looked as if it would now struggle to hold a toy train set.  After coming back on ourselves we ended up beneath a newer, shinier metal bridge which supported the weight of the patch of Princess Highway that ran through Nowa Nowa.  Beneath the sturdy metal structure hung rope swings, a classic tool in the fun lives of the young and adventurous.  They held an aura about them, almost portal-like in their ability to summon images of children swinging and laughing and splashing on a warm day like the one I was currently living.  The sight made me think of Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn and their vigorous adventures.

After walking back past the general store to scout out the rest of Nowa Nowa, we spotted Mingling Waters cafe and caravan park.  Attached to it is a gallery of wood sculptures artfully crafted.  Beneath a tetrahedronal roof was the grandest of the sculptures: Ra the great root that grew laterally to beautiful effect.  As I walked past Mingling Waters cafe and peered inside the windows I spotted something that made my eyes and smile grow wide.  A cabinet full of the best collection of geeky memorabilia I have ever seen.  Lightsabers, Flux Capacitors, He-Men and Nazi Gold lined this monolithic cabinet of uber-passion – something which I adore and respect.  Before I knew it I was inside with a Boba Fett helmet on and a blaster in hand standing beside Han frozen in carbonite.  Anyone who truly knows me would know this is a pivotal moment in my life and quest for all things geeky.

The owners of the cafe; Steven and Riley, were gentlemanly in their courtesy of letting me pose and ask a million questions of how such a hoard of awesome happens to be here in this sleepy town of Nowa Nowa.  Turns out Steven is an avid fan of seemingly everything there is to be a fan of in pop culture, and like myself is a shade extrovert in his passion.  After a half hour of chatting and totally fanboying I remembered that I had a girlfriend and a life to attend to.  So I bid bitter farewells to my brethren of the Jedi Order and set off on a recommended walk around a slice of Lake Tyers.

 

During the walk around the glistening twisting river/lake my girlfriend and I assessed our lot in life and agreed that we are living gloriously. Each new dawn heralds a new day and often it does leave us feeling good.  The walk took us through Gippsland’s omnipresent forest as with the winding river on our left, walk against the calm current of life.  After sitting at a picnic table (minus the picnic damn it!) we could do no less than smile and rejoice in our lifes decisions leading us to this point. We have ultimate freedom to do as we please and take in whatever our earthen mother offers.  Freedom is indeed a mindset.  It is also an ideal, a place, a moment.  All of the above applying to how we view our life, travelling indefinitely, meeting gorgeous folk the world over, learning from distant cultures, breathing in fresher airs, sleeping beneath the stars that grace us all perchance we raise our gaze.

 

Throughout travelling there have been many gorgeous souls we have met and unmet just as speedily.  That adds to the bliss.  Whilst always moving nothing is permanent, there are no constants in travelling.  This is never more stark than when I make a friend that is a best friend within six minutes flat.  An understanding of ideals and ethics, a common interest, a meeting of the souls.  It’s always so fleeting however as is the nature of never stopping.  I felt however that I needed to have some sort of lasting contact with Steven and Riley, my kin in fandom and passion.  How often does one get to discuss the intricacies of classic movie posters?  So on our way back to The Batvan to head onward and leave Nowa Nowa in the rear view I thought I’d chance popping back in to get contact details, especially as they want to open a comic book shop which I’d be so interested in seeing its development. Steven seemed as happy as I that I was back in the cafe, so after I spoke of keeping in touch serendipity happened as it so often does when your life is a journey.  Steven offered us the chance to park up The Batvan and stay awhile here in Nowa Nowa (I had earlier spoken of my love for small-town Australia) at the exchange of doing some cleaning here at the campsite.  The Batvan was parked up in such a hurry I may have acquired whiplash (not the Iron-Man villain or frankly brilliant movie but the bane of necks and insurance companies alike).

 

So it was that the day followed with more impassioned conversations and some cleaning of toilets.  Steven even bequeathed me with some double ups from his substantial comic collection and allowed me to read some of his Ghost Rider collection after discussing how cool the character is, flaming skull and all.  After warm showers (imagine Andy Dufresne having just escaped Shawshank, arms akimbo) Becky cooked homemade burgers in the camp kitchen and I washed up.  Thats the deal. She cooks, I clean.  During the mass ingestion and scrubbing, we were chatting to another travelling couple.  They had been travelling New Zealand, now Australia and then onto Canada and the US.  There was a stipulation however.  They were doing all this on bicycles.  It opened my eyes certainly to a whole new plane of travelling.  To work for your destination, each day pedalling your way to someplace new all the while carrying your clothes, tent and food.  I immediately had respect for them. Hell, I’ve seen more campervan travellers in Australia than I have kangaroos or shrimps on barbays. This was refreshing.  So after sharing travelling tales and life stories and lending Phillipa and Adam our spare quilt as these autumn nights are cold in a campervan let alone tent, we called it a night.  We had a cuppa, mostly to satisfy a craving but partly to use the gas hob as a source of heat to warm the cold innards of The Batvan.

 

We again recollected our awesome lives.  Living how we want, where we want.  Each day a discovery of knowledge and beauty, of people and nature.  Serene in the knowledge that we are the makers of our destiny.  We wanted our lives to be this and by no power or drive other than our own we are living our dreams.  Our spirits often met with serendipity and superlatives.  We ended the day as we do every other.  Diving into our books. Westeros and its clash of kings awaited me.  Hogwarts welcomed Becky back.  Who knew what the new dawn and the new day would bring?

 

There you have it kindly readers.  A day in my life, perpetually moving, forever searching for discovery.  I hope you enjoyed reading and if you ever need a giant sized, ice cream infused coffee milkshake and to see the greatest horde of memorabilia ever assembled and just so happen to be in Nowa Nowa, then do pop into Mingling Waters.

To all a good day and a good day to all.

 

Aaron Farrell – The Wandering Wonderer.

Emote Feeling – A Poem.

Opening up a hug to show you care,
is often misconstrued as leaving oneself bare.

Vulnerability stems from distrust of what one feels,
To add love to the body is a coat of armour that heals.

Locking love in a pit to hide its beauty and grace                                                                                would be to live a shadow, exist but a trace.

Arms wide, lips perched precariously, spirits dancing in flame,
To deny one’s own emotions through fear is a sacrilegious shame.

Love is the glove that fits all, transcending distance and time,
Love is honor and pride, to deny it’s power, an immortal crime.

The Return Of The (Aaron Blog) Ing.

The Dark Knight Returns (To his laptop).  

 

I have returned from my absent spell, so to all nine readers who have been worried I’m fine.  I’m actually more than fine, I’m magnificent.  My life is amazing and more importantly it is mine.  I have been AWOL due to many factors.  

The first is that travelling is a full time job.  Seriously.  I’m not saying it’s a soul-sucking chore or it makes me suicidal on Mondays but it’s seriously vigorous on times.  In each country I try to explore and see and feel and taste that it leaves small time for blogging if I want to abide by the three Sacred S’s – Skate, Surf, Sleep.  

Secondly, wifi has been scarce as I’ve been off grid lately in my new home-on-wheels.  The Batvan! (More on this later)  

Thirdly, Life happens.  It really does.  One minute you’re eating cereal ready to attack the day and the seeming next minute you’re eating cereal ready to attack the next day.  Thankfully my life isn’t lost to the day-to-day bore and monotony of what people impose on others as ‘real life’- come join me for a week and tell me about real life when you’re trapped inside the Matrix and I’m doing my Superman thing as Neo.  I try to fill most days with doing something fulfilling and new.  I’ve seen a sunrise illuminate the godly Angkor, I’ve watched elephants roam their natural habitat, I’ve swam in coral with an ancient turtle.  I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe (where are my Blade Runner fans at?).  

The fourth reason is that I’m an official writer as opposed to the writer I declare myself in my mind and here on my blog.  I did it.  Whilst chasing one dream, I achieved another.  I am a Jr Writer and Photographer for www.adventureinyou.com  Check it out, it’s awesome and in fitting with any travellers or hopeful wanderers, people looking for adventure and inspiration and anybody who appreciates life outdoors.  My first article is about hiking in the charming and luscious Cameron Highlands, Malaysia.  My second is coming soon.

I am going to keep posting more anecdotal and subjective things here though because I need somewhere to vent all my weird wanderlust and a therapist is expensive.  

 

So where have the past five months gone.  The first was spent in South Africa.  A country that has heart and spirit in spades and is always striving to grow for the good.  I volunteered at Shamwari Game Reserve (check past posts for an insight) which remains as arguably the most wonderful and fulfilling two weeks of my life.  Afterward I journeyed the Garden Route which showed me just how beautiful our precious earth is.  Then came a flurry of South East Asia Awesome. For three months I travelled through Cambodia, Vietnam, Malaysia, Thailand and Indonesia.  It was as tiring as it sounds and anyone who has been to Asia knows that there is no slow pace.  It all moves at rocket speed and its idiosyncrasies and cultures are an acquired taste for many westerners – I’m not just talking about the food but the ways, the rules, the toilets(!) etc.  It was the best of times.  It was the worst of times.  The stark beauty of Asia is unmatched.  The jungles, the waterfalls, the lakes and the beaches, to mention but a few of the wonders, are otherworldly and gorgeous.   The temples are sacred and evocative in their intricacy and solidarity with nature.  Best of all are the people.  Some have perhaps enough money to eat and to live on a bare minimum.    What we in the west would count as sub-human or speak of like “literally (You mean ‘figuratively’ idiot) going to die if I don’t have a Nandos this week”.  Those in the south east of Asia smile in the face of adversity and show kindness instead of anger.  An unbreakable spirit seems ingrained into the land and its inhabitants.  Granted that is a generalisation and there are those who want to profit from us gawping western folk like a certain vietnamese taxi driver who ripped me off royally but I was mostly met with kindness in my time there.

 

The route went a little something like this:

Cambodia– Phnom Penh-SIhanoukville-Koh Rong Samloem-Kampot-Phnom Penh-Siem Reap.

Vietnam- Ho Chi Minh-Hue-Hanoi-Halong Bay – Hanoi.

Malaysia- Kuala Lumpur- Langkawi-Penang-Cameron Highlands- Kuala Lumpur

Thailand: Phuket. Having travelled Thailand in 2014 I just chilled out over Christmas which was needed.

Indonesia – Jakarta-Yogyakarta-Bali (Bali was three weeks of surfing because  I want to be the very best, like no one ever was).

Australia-  Currently in the state of Victoria but I plan to see as big a slice of this huge beast of a country as I can.

 

Much more to come from Australia as my partner and I now own a campervan and are seeing all its nooks and crannies.  I have a year ahead of me in the Land Down Under and each day has been an adventure so far.  It’s an expansive land of natural beauty, at its finest with coastline perpetually battling the sea and national parks that feel like worlds in and of themselves.  

 

My next blog post will be about living in a campervan as it’s taught me a lot (11 things to be precise) so far and I will be going back over my journal from my travels to bring some more insight into my life in adventure.  New articles will be published on Adventure In You too so check it out if that tickles your ticklish parts (my ribs if anyone wants to know).  I am always open to questions so to any reading this or any of my ramblings and wanting to know more then please do converse with me whether it be on twitter, instagram, wordpress or through carrier birds (Phoenix are my favourites, NO pigeons).  

 

So that is the brief/abbreviated/shortened turn of events and which I plan on revisiting.  

 

Thanks as always for reading.

 

Aaron Farrell.   

 

Exploring The Temples Of Angkor – Cambodia.

The Temples of Angkor are the grand, lasting monuments of the Khmer Empire that spanned six centuries, many religions and beliefs and even more kings or “God-Kings” as they liked to be called, that is situated just outside of modern-day Siem Reap, Cambodia.   The building of these temples of grandiose scale and meaning were almost always in honor of the then King’s religious beliefs.  Some beliefs predate any contemporary religious systems, some followed Buddhism and some, Hinduism and a few flirted between the two.  And thanks to all these kings and their specificity in worship, I got to view some of the most astounding monuments I’m sure I’ll ever see and got to appreciate that the history I’m learnt in – the Western History – is but a slither of what the world has to offer.  Diversity then, is truly the spice of life.  Here I will account my traversing and gawping of these wonderful sights of a cultural and visionary Renaissance that took place before The Renaissance.

 

Day One.

The best place to start is the Angkor National Museum.  Its the perfect way to get context for what is to come.  Angkor is breathtaking to any and all (I’d think) but to understand how and why, in any situation always alleviates idiocy and self-loathing when you have no idea what the hell you’re looking at.  The museum houses some artifacts that have been found over the years and a tremendous wealth of information and visual/audio aids.  Pay the extra riels to get the audio tour.  It helps one to understand why they’re being stared down by what is literally a thousands Buddhas.  The tour is a time tunnel of sorts; one that takes you through Pre-Angkorian ways of life right the way through to the collapse of it.  There isn’t a better way to start an Angkorian day.  But seriously don’t buy an iced coffee here.  It will be the most expensive drink* you buy in Cambodia.  On to Angkor then.

 

The Angkor National Museum is on the edge of Siem Reap and is fittingly at the start of the long road leading toward the pay station for Angkor.  Haggle a Tuk-Tuk (and driver I suppose) from the side of the road and you’ll have a private guide taking you wherever you want to go around the magnificent ancient city for a competitive price.  Just remember to be fair, these people are trying to make a living too.   There are a few different ticket options for access to the UNESCO World Heritage Site (proudly noted on signs and leaflets – and rightly so!).  I went for a three day pass.  The three days do not have to be consecutive days either so if like me, you find yourself with seven days in Siem Reap then I’d highly recommend this as you can plan out exactly what you want to see there (SO MANY TEMPLES!) and take your time with how you get around and see the godly sights.  It’s a tiring old job traipsing round an ancient city with bulging eyes and your jaw continually on the floor so do not rush it.  There is a one day ticket option but that’s normally for people who carry selfie sticks and complain that the Khmer Empire didn’t think to build escalators back in the 10th century.  You quite simply cannot see it all in a day and nor should you try.

 

I sat in the back of the Tuk-Tuk fervently awaiting the sight of Angkor Wat in real life as opposed to the plethora of photographs, postcards, paintings, heck its on the Cambodian flag, that show its grandeur.  As the ever-changing number of towers poked up through the treeline adjacent to the road I immediately knew that none of the memorabilia had done this place justice.  After the driver dropped me off right outside the bridge that crossed the lake-sized, 200 metre-wide moat encircling Angkor Wat, I could not quite believe my eyes. An enormous collection of conjoined white clouds loomed atop spiral towers of Angkor Wat as if hiding the very gods the temple was dedicated to.

The front garden area is home to ponds, trees, monkeys, horses and of course ferocious red ants that eat any wandering foot that happens to position itself to close to their home whilst its owner is paying no attention to anything but getting a photograph to capture the great sight before him.  The owner of the foot was me.  I got eaten alive by red ants.   It was like the scene from The Mummy where all those scarab beetles eat that bad dude alive in seconds like he was candy floss and they were a fat kid daring diabetes to a fight.

Its hard to imagine that the 12th Century temple was in fact a 12th century temple.  Built by (or rather commissioned by, it would be a lot of work for one man) King Suryavarman II which started as a Hindu temple but went on to be a Buddhist one.  To have the vision and quite frankly balls to dream up Angkor Wat is an astonishing feat, let alone to build the thing.  I couldn’t imagine anyone or anything building something quite so stunning and majestic as this, even now with all the modern equipment and ‘great minds’.    Upon getting up close and personal with its walls and seeing the stories of old painstakingly etched into the very foundations of the temple, I was again breathless and at risk of sounding like Darth Vader after a lightsaber duel.  The planning, preparation and overseeing that has gone into Angkor Wat is like nothing I’ve seen before.  To be so grandiose and titan on the outside and then to be so full of character and atmosphere on the inside leaves any modern day Burj Khalifa or The Gherkin( even the names are lame) looking like a child’s first Lego set.  The Khmer Empire sure knew how to not be lazy bastards.

 

After getting up close and personal with Angkor Wat for some hours I decided to head to Bayon: the centre piece of Angkor Thom – the walled city.  Bayon is a weird and wonderful temple adorned with smiling stone faces looking at you from every direction like a shifty-eyed painting inside a horror movie haunted house.  Pillars and small towers hold these smiling faces and moss and plant life adds to the atmospheric look of an ancient temple as if each piece has been hand placed to add the otherworldly effect.  If Angkor Wat is the magisterial photo-realistic centre-painting of Angkor then Bayon is the quirky, experimental Jackson Pollock painting on the opposite wall drawing tilted heads.  There are sheer steps to be climbed at varying flanks of the main temple which gives one a different viewpoint and perspective of the how and perhaps why of the design.

 

Day Two.

The second day was the fullest by far as I attempted to tackle the Big Circuit.  There are different circuits and loops of the entire area of Angkor and each takes you to different temples and on a different journey through time and history.  I decided to bear a right at Angkor Wat and take the journey around its behind and start my day with Ta Prohm.

 

Ta Prohm aka the Tomb Raider Temple.  This is the temple where Angelina Jolie ran around in short shorts toting dual pistols and ruining some great memories of an even greater videogame series.  We all know most videogame movies suck.  The point is however, Ta Prohm is the second most famous temple because of this fact.  So it is hailed upon by tourists and is a tight squeeze at times which can lead to frustration and anger (which lead to the Dark Side) when one is trying to appreciate the view but Chinese Tour Groups literally march along with no care for anybody else and in being a coach load, there’s a very many of them.  I don’t mean to generalise but I’m going to generalise.  Big coach tours are bad news and the majority of them are chinese operated and this can lead a man onto a dark path in viewing all these wanton tourists as bad eggs.  They walk in front of your camera line,  they do not even look at the majesty in front of them, they only make a beeline for the attraction to have a photo with it and not of it and they all have selfie sticks.  I didn’t meet one who wasn’t rude, or showed any regard for other people’s agenda.  If only Angie was here now with her dual pistols…. (This is a joke and not homicidal thoughts.  Don’t call the police).

 

The temple itself looked as if it had fought and lost a great battle with the surrounding jungle.  The main attraction of Ta Prohm is the gargantuan tree whose snake-like roots have slowly grasped at any of the temple it can and hoard it for some unknown purpose.  Seeing this unbelievable sight made me think of nature’s omnipotence and that we are all futile to nature’s plans and grasp.  There are other small trees dotted around that have equally prying roots.  A place like no other, that shows man and nature entwined like lovers or fighters.

 

Ta Prohm didn’t disappoint, it was the one I wanted to see the most and it certainly provided.

The order of the day was the following temples: Bantay Kdei, Pre Rup, East Mebon, Ta Som and Neak Pean.  The day was a tiring one and some of the temples started to look similar or I was just becoming numb to unreal sights through tiredness and hunger (which also lead to the Dark Side) Each however had it’s own intricacies and character traits.  Some were buried deep into the jungle and others were quaint and tranquil whilst some were on the verge of collapse.  The biggest surprise however was Neak Pean.  A small temple situated slap bang in the middle of a stunning pond.  It immediately reminded me of the many Water Temples I had overcome in all the Legend Of Zelda games.  I was half expecting a pair of Iron Boots to be laying around for me to sink to the bottom of the pond and enter the real entrance to the temple.

 

To reach Neak Pean  one has to cross a slither of a wooden walkway that was just above water level of the beautiful lake it crossed.  Perhaps my favourite view of nature and life in all of Cambodia was whilst I was stood in the middle of the walkway to Neak Pean and observed in a 360 degree motion the fish, the birds, the flowers, the plants, the trees and the sky touching the lake giving the whole lake a magical, fantastical feeling.  The air was filled with traditional music supplied by land-mine survivors who now play music to tourists in hope of some tips.  The gorgeous sounds only added to the serenity of Neak Pean and its surroundings.

 

So a full day of traversing and ogling many different temples of size stature and design and I was beaten.  A great day is to be had though in discovering small pieces of ancient life and insight to architecture long forgotten.  The Big Circuit is a must if one wants to see the true scale of Angkor and appreciate its diversity.

 

Day Three.

 

A 4.30am alarm woke me in a fit of exhaustion and broken dreams.  Luckily I’d taken a day off at leisure in between the Big Circuit and waking up this morning to witness the fabled sunrise behind Angkor Wat.  I took a rented moped as I didn’t want to trouble a poor Tuk-Tuk driver at this early an hour.  In driving to Angkor Wat the roads were full of Tuk-Tuk’s holding yawning patrons.  I had expected just a handful of devoted early birds to be on their way but the road was as busy as the other times I’d visited Angkor.  I arrived at one of the small ponds in front of Angkor Wat for a prime position to not only catch the sun rising behind Wat but to catch its reflection in the pond.  I arrived before most but not before some.  The people there, for the most part were real arsy to.  Some people trying to fill in the gaps were met with dismay and reprehensible attitudes and actions.  It was only my pleasure to ignore these jerks and take in the changing palette of colour  accentuating the magnificent building before me. The sky went from black to navy, navy rolled into yellow before becoming daylight blue.  Until the daylight hit, Angkor Wat was but a blacked out shadow of its usual detailed self.  An astounding view, one which is even worth all the tourists flooding in and acting like dicks toward each other when they’ve all come to observe the same beautiful thing.  A must for any visitor to Angkor and in fact any one who isn’t thinking of visiting Angkor it’s still a must. You people must only get your priorities in life sorted.

 

I left the overwhelming Angkor Wat and snuck to Angkor Thom for a more in-depth visit over the fleeting one I had on the first day.  It was almost dead and for this reason I’d advice after seeing the glorious sunset, to move your behind’s as fast as you can to Angkor Thom and explore it before it starts to really pick up around 9am.  The first temple I saw was off the beaten track and looked almost untouched by regular checks and restoration work ( that is needed and appreciated all around Angkor).  I lived a fantasy where I was the adopted son of Indiana Jones and Nathan Drake, both of which inspired me to pursue archeology as I scaled a small wall inside the temple.  All before breakfast too.

On the opposite side of Angkor Thom I found a royal looking palace that begged to be climbed with its seemingly skyward reaching steps.  From the top of that I saw a nearby man-made lake and so went to sit and ponder whilst wondering how the many fish found their way into the massive pond in the first place.  Then I finished my time at Angkor walking atop the one of the walls of the titular namesake – The Walled City.

 

I left Angkor after my third day there feeling awe-struck and inspired.  An ancient civilisation envisioned, built and lived in this Olympian of cities and here I am living out childish fantasies.  The sense of scale and unrelenting beauty on offer was not lost on me however and I don’t think I’ll ever see something quite like Angkor in all my remaining days (unless I get abducted by aliens whose real passion is abstract architecture).  This experience capped off my 3 weeks in Cambodia too.  It’s people – hearty, brave and kind, its traditions and culture full of life and laughter and it’s history drenched in blood and beauty for a juxtaposition of feelings and emotions.  Truly the Kingdom Of Wonder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*The writer may be spuriously exaggerating but just go with it. He’s a good guy.  He just has an imagination.  He just believes that if we..**

**Sorry the objective overseer likes to chat on and justify everything.

Travelling – A Modern Renaissance.

“Why are you going travelling?”

The question I was often met with upon announcing I was quitting my job and leaving everything I’ve ever known to venture into the deep unknown.  I’d often say that it was what I had to do.  A niggling feeling to escape the monotonous reality of day-to-day life turned into an itch that couldn’t be scratched when one feels societal expectations bearing down which then transformed into a nagging scream akin to a bellowing Sergeant urging his troops to flee a battle that can not be won.   Then I know I had to get the hell out of dodge.

Now over a month of being ‘on the road’ I think I can tackle the question better but I’ll reform it from an objective person’s view to my subjective conscious demanding to know.

“Why am I travelling the world right now?”

This could really be answered by capricious bulletpoints

• BECAUSE SOCIETY HATES ME!!!

If I am to develop as a writer though I don’t think that would bear fruitful for any involved.

I am travelling the world because I felt that my perspective back home (Wales, UK) was forcing me to become more cynical.  I met the abhorrent stupidity that flanked me every which way with spades of cynicism and satire.  Both perhaps needed in the world we live in where information or therein lack of need to be questioned.  I think spoonfuls over spades would be better though but I couldn’t lessen my grip on the spade whilst being faced continually with the mindlessness and ignorance of the general public( I worked in a train station and so saw thousands of people a day) and the overbearing subculture in Britain that has so many wanting to look, act, think(or not to think perhaps) and socialise the same.  In my eyes that is what this current government and corporate, money-fuelled world powers want from their robotic flesh puppets.

As I felt so helpless in being able to change not only people’s views (people would rather read a The Sun article telling them that an immigrant has arrived 5 minutes early to their job to steal it from them than a preachy blog) but change how the system works and acts and governs (Today is November 6th, and every year I pray to wake up to some Guy Fawkes related news where power has been relinquished from the pigs at the top – V For Vendetta and Animal Farm references there you lucky people).

I can feel my point slipping away from me now as my blood pumps faster in anger.  Which can sum up why I left.  In getting entangled in the politics and bureaucracy you are pledging yourself to a perpetual battle – sometimes it’s just better to slip out the back door and vanish.

So here I am 5 weeks into travelling and I am lapping up all the different cultures, beliefs and peoples ( and of course food) I can stumble upon.  I’ve tried to see places for their local customs as opposed to their tourist-catering epicentres.  I’ve visited local communities where school children (both Africa and Asia) wave at you for no other reason than they want to.  I’ve eaten on small plastic chairs and tables (like I’d have done with my niece back home) on a street in Phnom Penh and had a chopstick lesson from locals – I was really struggling and they were justified to laugh.  Hiring a moped and driving with no direction is always a good way to get lost  in South East Asia and, in turn, discover something or someone whom you’d never have had the chance beforehand.

We, as people and a community of humans like to relate to one another (as well as liking to discriminate against one another strangely).  This is the basics of being a geek.  You’re just walking down the street roaring like Chewbacca and a stranger says “laugh it up fuzzball” and that’s the both of you done for life.  A friendship based upon relatability.  It happens every day where people find camaraderie in someone who supports the same sports team or dislikes a particular food or celebrity (I’m looking at you generic, mass-produced pop stars ).  Sharing that “Me too!!!” moment is always glorious and often brings people together for the right reasons – it is a total shame a few people had the “me too” moment with racism and formed the KKK or the English Defense League.

After many conversations with different travellers the world over a common phrase is normally uttered by one or many of us.  “It’s nice to meet someone likeminded”.  Now where we may have vastly different views on who our favourite character is from the Mass Effect series or whether the totem tilted slightly at the end of Inception, it is nice that travellers can find solace in being able to have a real discussion with people who share a broader scale of the world and similar stances on a personal level.  Religion or anything as messy doesn’t usually come into it as meeting a devout christian family (Mum, Dad, young son, young daughter) travelling Cambodia for six weeks inspired me that there are some parents out there with their middle-fingers up toward The System.  I had always believed that people allow having children to act as Number One excuse for why they can’t chase their dreams.  It was so heartening to see these 8 and 10 year old (thereabouts) having the education of a life time in seeing a broadly different locale and culture than that of their suburban LA lifestyle and all thanks to their open-minded parents who haven’t let their own wanderlust fade.  And the friendship that came out of it barely ventured into religion or anything else so trivial.

So once we relate we can explore our interests and pursuits into what measures of self define us. Travelling has seemed to kick off royally in recent years.  Check twitter and instagram for a plethora of pages of journeys, travel tips, quotes of travellers , travel inspiration, guidance for the would-be travellers and so much more.  It seems whilst many just look at these pages and dozily remark ” I wish I could do this”, there are many that are actually doing it *pats self on back*.  There seems to be no age limit either which is even better.  Back home I was so sick of seeing middle-aged men and women waving the figurative white flag to life, admitting defeat and working solely to pay the bills.  I can conclusively say that isn’t how life is meant to be lived.  On the other end you may have some people who don’t worry about bills but wantonly throw cash about on ridiculously over-priced nights out or on brand new cars who are obviously trying to fill a hole that will never become whole just at the expenditure of money on material things.

Whilst travelling I am budgeting and saving as much as possible (I had a $1 lunch a few days ago and it was a filing and homely noodle soup) but that is so I can venture further onwards.  I’ve stayed in some pretty questionable places in Cambodia so far but that is all part of the adventure.  Leaving behind old comforts and pretenses allows you to build up resilience toward your endurance level on every scale whether it be accommodation or food (I ate a meal where the only thing I resolutely knew what I was eating were chicken feet, the rest of the meats were a total mystery).  I designed my own phrase before I left that I still stick by now more than a month in and that is “Nothing grows inside your comfort zone”.  Fellow travellers have totally agreed with me and we have long discussions about how leaving your comfort zone only expands it and I believe more with the generation I belong to (I’m 24) that we are all becoming a little fed up of the complacency that can be found back home in how easy life is and that we all long for something more.  Hence this prosperous renaissance of mind and soul searching for more to life.

Now allow me to get deep.  Scratch that allow me to get cavernous.  I have a theory that we, sentient human beings are put on the earth to garner as much information and knowledge as we can from the world we live in and to use that to connect to one another, passing on what is known and sharing in our learning of the new.

Now I’ll begin my climb out of the cavern.  We have intelligence over every other living thing on the planet.  We can perceive our own existence against the backdrop of a never-ending universe.  That is pretty incredible right?  Humans have continued onward and upward in knowing the unknown – there have been human beings living in the International Space Station for 15 years!  For 15 years there has continually been people living outside earth’s until-then boundless boundaries.  We can certainly use our intelligence for discovery all right.  We can also neglect intelligence and the quest for discovery to be distracted by some fame-whore porn star or a scripted talent-show where rich ignorami laugh at the poor and helpless.  So many people are happy being distracted.  That is fine though as it is their right to choose what to do with their lives.  It isn’t alright however to switch off entirely to anything that doesn’t immediately affect one’s life.

Uncle Ben Told Peter Parker “With great power comes great responsibility”  Ben sadly died.  Peter went on to become your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man.  My point is this: our intelligence is power beyond measure but collectively using that power we need to be Spider-Man – helping those in need and having a regard for any and all around us whilst delivering witty one-liners.  We have caused a near countless amount of animals to go extinct.  We massacre each other because someone with power tells us to.  We believe one (normally oneself) life is more important than any other.  Perhaps all this stems from a lack of perspective.  If more people had seen an animal about to go extinct right in front of them they would have stopped it or at least tried to.  If people en masse had met the denizens from a country they were told to wage war upon beforehand and not allowed the puppet masters to depict ‘the enemy’ as sub-human with bigoted propaganda then maybe many would have put down their weapons and denied the mindless killing of innocence and concentrated on true enemies of freedom.  If a xenophobe can rid themselves of fear and make the small effort to understand why people flee a ravaged country then somewhere like Britain would have an open and tolerant populace willing to help children dying at sea.

Travelling allows one to see the world from a whole different perspective and stance.  Seeing poverty in a far off country can ignite the heart of even the most inactive person.  To experience a conversation of many different languages and to finally make out the punchline is truly a beautiful moment.  To see the world with your own eyes is what eyes were made for.  To see it through a phone screen is why so many people believe they know best from their jaded standpoint.  Britain is often very generous in giving aid to far off countries – every year Comic Relief top donations to countries in need – but I believe this isnt the right way to help.  We are great sympathisers but can rarely empathise with the strife we observe.  And some just do it for a pat on the back.  One of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done is be part of community projects in very poor neighbourhoods in South Africa as I knew deep down my physical work would be going toward people (children in fact) who would want and need it and result in the possibility of betterment in the community.  Getting to meet the children who’s school I was working on as part of a project with Shamwari Conservation Experience was delightful.  We played games in their dilapidated local park and had some great fun and shared smiles rather than speech because of the language barrier.  For me to recollect that is a delightful feeling even though it was under a month ago I know it will be a memory I cherish forever.  Something I never would of done had I stayed stuck in the mud.

I finish with a quote that can probably summarise my 2000 words in a couple of lines by the effervescent and impactful Maya Angelou.

Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry but by demonstrating that all peoples cry, laugh, eat, worry and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we may even become friends.

A Week Travelling the Garden Route

A Week On The Garden Route

Monday 19th October – Port Elizabeth – Tsitsikamma Village

To set off on the Garden Route I first had to leave Shamwari Conservation Experience.  As it had done for the past two weeks,  SCE continued to deliver on its spectacular life-changing experience.  The transfer to Port Elizabeth and where I’d pick up the rental car to begin the Garden Route was at 11am.  However at 8am, all of the volunteers were having a group lecture from Dr Johan – the resident veterinarian – as we were preparing to assist in the tranquilising and treatment of Maggie the lioness at the Born Free Foundation.  A true once in a lifetime experience to witness, let alone be a part of.  My girlfriend Becky was humorously coaxed into touching the lions tongue as the doctor faux-roared resulting in Becky nearly having a heart attack.  I then got to wraps my arms around (hug) Maggie as I measured the girth of her chest as part of the routine health check.  I couldn’t believe the opportunity I had been afforded in being able to witness the caretaking of such a majestic beast up close and personal especially when I considered the appalling conditions Maggie had been found in and rescued from.  Born Free Foundation along with Shamwari Conservation Experience will always hold a dear place in my heart for the worthwhile and the much-needed liberal work they partake in.

After picking up the car and dropping a fellow volunteer – continuing her own journey – at Jeffreys Bay we headed toward Tsitsikamma.  The scenery on the way to Tsitsikamma opened up like a pop-up picture book.  Pine trees covered vast expanses wherever the road wasn’t laid.  Mountains draped in atmosphere and mist ran parallel to the car as if they were trying to keep up with the speed limit.  I struggled to keep my eyes front as I half expected to see The Fellowship trekking the mountains and I was left disheartened that I hadn’t downloaded Howard Shore’s spectacular score for The Lord Of The Rings trilogy to play whilst driving.

After following the N2 (main road for most of the Garden Route) for some hours we arrived in Tsitsikamma village – a picturesque and quaint village full of guesthouses and hostels that were surrounded by all the forest had to offer.  Tsitsikamma village embraces the nature it so wants to be a part of which is heartening to see and charming to be a part of. After a small hike through a forest and seeing more of the local community, Tsitsikamma is how I imagined the 1800’s Louisiana with its thick, green life and bayous with swamps and marshes.  I of course have never been to Louisiana in 1874 as my DeLorean is in the garage but from films I have this fond thought of the look of that era and somehow, in Tsitsikamma, it reminded me of a memory I never actually experienced.  Life is strange.   An early night was on the cards after a long day of healing lions and being a part of The Fellowship.  

Tuesday 20th October – Tsitsikamma Village – National Park – Knysna

What better way to start the day than a high dose of adrenalin.  After a hearty breakfast naturally.  Tsitsikamma Canopy Tours offer ziplining across the vivacious gorges and atop flowing waterfalls.  With a quick safety demo I was out and ziplining (flying like Superman in my mind) over some remarkable natural sites.  I mean I actually went flying (I’m going with the Superman thing) over a waterfall at 9am on a Tuesday morning.  For one: it’s such a cool thing to do and a sight to behold and for two: just a couple of months prior I was working a job I hated being part of a culture and society I loathed.  If British culture and being caught in the stress of modern day city life is a Dementor then travelling free is my Patronus.  After I’d finished being Superman we drove to Tsitsikamma National Park where we passed farms of pine trees which held an ominous aura where travelling at speed past the dense thickets of trees, one could be hopeful of seeing a werewolf on the prowl.

Just prior to entering the park we passed a raging bushfire which saddened my soul.  Many firefighters were hard at work fighting the blaze and whilst being guided past it by a warden I could feel the wall of fire’s blistering heat even through the car. [Afterward I read up on wildfires and sometimes they can be good for the land so I took some solace in that] Upon paying an entrance fee into the park and driving downward into thick mist I was met with a scene I’d never looked upon before.  I was dumbstruck upon seeing huge waves ploughing into jagged rocks acting as a beachfront.  The sea  (which is fed by Storms River – a huge part of Tsitsikamma) seemingly started around 20 metres out with a wall of fog adding an apparent solid backdrop.  I imagined the sea was fenced off like many an old video game I played or much like The Truman Show where Truman finds his personal world’s boundary.  If it wasn’t for the 15 foot-plus waves I may have ventured to go out and test my theory.  After daydreaming for some time I escaped the sea’s magnetic pull on my imagination and went onto the second activity of the day.  

Kayaking Storms River Mouth.  A quick walk through the park itself was had as we couldn’t start in the sea like groups usually do; lest we desired to feel Poseidon’s wrath.  We began our kayaking just as the sea and the river met.  A sliver of river snaked between a valley reaching forever upward into the thick mist that was the new sky.  It was strangely reminiscent of walking a thin street in New York and looking upward to view two parallel sky-scraper seemingly touching tips (compose yourselves!).  But this was less man-made and more Skull Island.  Short history lessons were delivered by the knowledgeable guides as we learnt that a blackened batcave (not that one – I asked) used to house the wood chips, that back in the 1800’s chopped down all of the Tsitsikamma coasts trees.  Bastards. The cliffs we navigated through used to be horizontal laying under the water but tectonic plate movements forced them skyward.  They are now covered in plant life and gravity-defying trees. Nature is awesome.  

We boarded a small piece of flat land and swapped the kayaks for heavy duty lilos (Yes I just said that).  Now laying down and paddling as if we were in a 5 star resort’s plush pool, we continued up river.  Competitions were had to see who could stand up on the lilos – Becky and I triumphed and are now thinking of turning it into a career – and then we lined up all the lilos to make a red rubber bridge on the water to see who could run to the end.  We are not going to pursue a career in lilo running sadly.  And to finish off an excellent morning of activities we jumped ( and perhaps screamed) off 5 metre high cliffs into the river.

Lunch was a traveller’s special.  A bread roll and some crackers along with a breathtaking view of the raging sea; I’ll take that over a 5 course meal in an overpriced joint any time.

After deciding I may live a remote life in Tsitsikamma when (if) I decide to settle in one place I decided to check out a place on the map called Nature’s Valley on the way to Knysna.  Natures Valley was a real slice of the quiet life.  A small area of big, lonesome houses that all flanked a beach like I’ve never seen before.  Again this mystical mist may have had a part to play but mostly, it’s due to the fact that we had this huge beach almost entirely to ourselves.  The sea in front, a small forest behind and only two distant silhouettes of people in the distance.  We laid there and took in the environment around us, splashed our feet in the sea and marked our names with footprints in the sand that would inevitably be washed away by the rising tide as soon as we left.  Coming up and out of Nature’s Valley via the one road in and out, it was covered with baboons lazing around, grooming (and possibly fellating) one another and generally just relaxing.  I drove carefully and slowly to really take in yet another sight like no other I’d experienced prior.  

A decent old drive continuing on the Garden Route through Plettenberg Bay which seems like a quaint town of fields and fishing.  Arriving in Knysna hungry and tired after a full day of first experiences and mind-bending sights we cooked our first braai at the hostel.  Undercooked rice and a succulent juicy T-bone led to a satisfied end to a more-than-pleasurable day.  

Wednesday 21st October – Knysna – Wilderness

We left Knysna very early to have a relaxed day in Wilderness – a small, quaint town between Knysna and George.  We surfed, we ate and we relaxed.  We talked, we thought and we listened to great live music.   The two weeks volunteering at Shamwari Game Reserve prior to our travelling the Garden Route had worn us out and we knew we had a busy week ahead of us.  We ended up bumping into Mike – one of the rangers from Shamwari – aka The Human Swiss-Army Knife as I’ve mentioned in my previous blog.  We shared pizza and cocktails and laughed the night away with many of his friends, one of whom was delivering the chilled and soothing live music. ( His stage name is Chris McCandless – Yes after him!) Conversations were had about world-politics, living, chasing dreams and the the welsh words ‘cwtch’ and ‘popty ping’  If you don’t know what they mean then please search them right away.  They’ll be your new favourite words I promise.  One of the best evenings I’ve had whilst drinking cocktails in a long, long time.  Spent in great company, in a quiet small town.  A world away from the forced-good-times nightclubs apparently hold back home.  Much of the day was spent smiling and thinking which in my eyes is one of the most precious cocktails of life.

Thursday 22nd October –  Wilderness – Outdshoorn – Cango Caves – Hermanus.

An early morning had had to (try) make our 9 o’clock booking at Cango Caves, roughly 1 hour 45 minutes inland.  A quick fuel stop (unleaded for the car and coffee for myself) was to be had but what really awoke me was driving through a vast mountain range on thin, winding roads with sheer drops and spectacular views on offer.  Seeing as we were inevitably late (only by 15 minutes so we instead caught the 9.30am tour which was the Adventure Tour and this was a serendipitous happening as the Adventure Tour was way more insightful, fun and in-depth than the Standard as you go a lot farther into the cave system stretching into the mountains.  The caves are over 20 million years old and show signs of the ancient bushmen using them (just the entrance opening as it was way too dark and deep for them to navigate any further – apparently) up to 80,000 years ago.  A little perspective if i’ve ever needed any.  The natural formations of stalactite meeting stalagmite is one of nature’s curious little coincidences.  Huge openings inside the mountain and tiny (30cm!) crawl spaces added to a fun morning.  Not least because whilst crawling these tiny spaces I felt like Solid Snake infiltrating Shadow Moses (If you really don’t understand this reference then stop your life and go play the Metal Gear Solid series).  

With another 5 hours ahead of us to make our way to Hermanus to make our booking, ( we had to make our way hastily through the Garden Route as foolishly, when booking the flights long ago we thought 7 days would be enough) we stopped at a designated picnic spot all along Route 62 – the inland alternate route for the Garden Route as opposed to the more coastal N2 – and had another traveller’s lunch.  Some desert, some bush with only a single road to half the orange/green plains was our view for the snacktime.  

Much like I’d seen in American road movies.  We continued on through townships in the designated centre of nowhere.  People whose home were home no matter how inconvenient.  Power to them!

Even the varied awe-inspiring scenes of dusty orange land, bright green forests, golden corn farms, endless mountain ranges and perpetual nothingness couldn’t save me from the lag and tiredness hanging over me and the ball-soup I’d cooked up.  Upon finally rolling into Hermanus, its clean and pristine look took me by surprise as I’d read it was a very old fishing village.  I think with many people stopping there to hopefully catch a glimpse of the whales spottable from the coastline, some money has gone into the town and afforded the council to make it look very shiny and presentable.  A little walk along the coast was not prosperous for our wishful sighting of whales so I settled for a seafood pasta instead as I knew I’d be guaranteed to see sea-life (reading that back I sound like a sadist, I’m not I was just tired, hungry and fancying some calamari).  We arrived at the guesthouse with just enough energy to recollect how amazing a time we had had so far and how sad we were that South Africa was nearly over.  

Friday 23rd October – Hermanus 

Initially our plan was to travel to Cape Town on this day but we were so pooped from the day before and wanted to see some whales damn it!  So we stayed another day to relax and recuperate on the beach.

Funny thing about Hermanus being a town sat right on the coast is that its pretty windy.  A Beach Day was a Beach 20 Minutes before we admitted defeat.  The victor in our defeat was what felt like a sandstorm.  Its very hard to write (old school pen and paper for my travel journal) whilst sand creatures attack you every which way.  The best laid plans…

So we relaxed inside a cafe and Becky drew (She draws, I write – Its only a matter of time before we create a comic book) whilst I played Metal Gear Solid on my PS Vita.  My recent exploits in the Caves of Cango had me wanting some tactical espionage action in my life and luckily I downloaded the PS1 classic to my Vita before leaving.  *pats self on back*  The day was chilled as we had wanted and so we decided to walk the coastal path all along Hermanus’ twisting sea front and guess what we saw ….WHALES!  Huge whales with humped backs.  All in all we saw four whales and a few dolphins( I say ‘a few’ as they were fleeting by and only showed themselves briefly).  One whale put on quite a show.  Breaching his head above water first and then giving the gawping audience that had accumulated on the raised coast a few Air Fives.  I could not believe the sheer size of Moby  (I like to make it easier for you darling readers by characterising these mesmerising beasts I meet).  Moby came almost entirely out of the water and he must have been more than 30 foot long.  He was roughly 30 metres away from the shore so we had a spectacular view of this titan of the sea.

Back at the hostel we had a communal braai which wasn’t quite as good as the one we had a couple of nights back.  I think mine tasted better for the sheer fact I started my own fire to cook it and in turn fed my own machismo as well as my belly.  This was our first night sleeping in a dorm as it was the only room the hostel could spare and because why not we are travellers.  I’ll tell you why not dear readers.  There were at least 3 profuse snorers in there.  One stole the show with his orchestral range of snores.  I will name him Snorlax because, as I said, I like to characterise these mesmerising beasts I meet.

We retired to the couches downstairs.  I feared I may smother sweet Snorlax if I was deprived of anymore sleep.

Saturday October 24th – Hermanus – Cape Town 

I kicked off a sunny and non-windy day with a skate with a dude who worked in the hostel.

An hour and a half later I was back at the hostel ready to get to Cape Town minus my skateboard.  Some traffic cop on a powertrip had some worn prejudice against skateboarders and long story short, confiscated our boards because he had nothing better to do than piss all over our parade (on wheels) even though we were doing nothing unruly, illegal or heinous. We were just skating! After many words exchanged to him and the staff at the police station it was a possibility for me to get my board back as I had done zero wrong and had worded my case excellently if I do say so myself.  I was however on a tight time frame to get back to hostel so Becky didn’t think I’d left her to skate Hermanus forever-more and that we needed to get to Cape Town to make it worth our while.  After 15 minutes the rent-a-cop didn’t show up and I thought he could take a lot longer if he wants to be a real dick about it and so I said farewell to Gavin and the police staff but more importantly my noble steed of a skateboard  (An Almost pro-deck special DC edition custom made – IT HAD THE JOKER ON IT!).

[Profanity warning] Now whilst I do not hold hate for anyone and would like to bring more happiness into this world that seems to be having its happiness sucked out of it by corporations/politicians but that rent-a-cop can eat a big bag of shit.   There is always a bright side however and now I do not have to lug my board around South-East Asia.

The ride into Cape Town was as picturesque(I think I’m out of superlatives) as the rest of South Africa had been. After a quick bite to eat we were in the cable-car on our way up Table Mountain.  The cable-car rotated as it climbed the 1000+ metres to the top just to make the journey up even better.  Upon arriving at the zenith of Table Mountain I was confounded by the staggering scale and distance I was able to see naturally (well, with the help of a powerful prescription in my sunglasses).   The Atlantic ocean spanned as far as the eye could see.  A white fluffy army of cloud crept inward from the sun-kissed horizon to slowly encroach on the city like an attack of nature.  Luckily from my Olympian viewpoint I only had to look downward past my feet to attain the sneaking army’s plan.

We walked around the rectangular circumference of the summit and were astounded at every blink of the eye. Anyone could be a professional photographer up here and I’d imagined this is where the ‘panoramic’ mode on cameras was first thought of.  Many informative boards were placed along the walkway informing the reader of the geological goings-on that helped create Table Mountain (there is evidence that it could be the oldest mountain on earth), information about the flora and fauna found here and how precipitation and wind-flow from the sea cause the famed ‘pouring clouds’ from the mountains top down into the city.  There was an old explanation of this (before Science and all that nonsense) that a pirate captain and the devil himself are locked in a perpetual smoking contest. How awesome is that!  This all-encompassing view and perspective of the Western Cape of South Africa took my breath away (figuratively of course, the altitude isn’t that hard to breath in).

The evening consisted of fortune and misfortune.  The fortune of great jamaican food is never unwelcome.  The misfortune of being in South Africa whilst their rugby team loses in the semi-finals of the Rugby World Cup is bitter to say the least.  So many disappointed faces.   I was going to try and console some green and gold clad fans by saying at least they beat us (Wales) last week but I thought better of it.

And that was South Africa.  I’m writing this 3 days after this diary finished whilst in Phnom Penh.  I’ve just about recovered from 6 hours sleep in 72 hours and enough airports to make me now want to sail the rest of my journey like the pirate I’ve always dreamt of being.

South Africa you are truly The Rainbow Nation.  You hold many peoples with a vast number of backgrounds and a plethora of different languages and beliefs.  Although I’ve seen but a slither of your majesty I promise I will be back if you will be so gracious as to host me.  You have had a tumultuous history dashed with violence, racism, social segregation and many more terrible ongoings but you take that in your stride as you look to a brighter future and, for the most part, have learned from your past strifes.  I like to think you get the name ‘Rainbow Nation’ not from the many colours that make you whole but that without rain there would be no rainbows.

If you’ve enjoyed my words then please share onward as, like any writer wishes, I want my writing to be read and enjoyed by as many people as possible.

Thank you.

Aaron Farrell

A Night (Drive) Like No Other – A Night Drive Through Shamwari Game Reserve

On Thursday 15th of October 2015 I had a night like I’ve never had before.  An fantastical evening full of beasts and wonders, stars and sunsets.  A normal scheduled day here at Shamwari Conservation Experience as a volunteer is normally physical conservation work in the morning and then monitoring and tracking wildlife in the afternoon,  ( For a more in-depth take on those activities please see my previous post as A Week As A Conservation Volunteer) but Thursday all the volunteers had the afternoon off as we had a night-drive instead.  Volunteers who were here for longer and in-turn had done it before were all boasting how good it was but only upon experiencing it myself could I have only known that it would be a truly awe-inspiring experience.

We set off in our open-topped trucks just before sundown.  We were all warned to wrap up very warm and so we all raided the stores here for sleeping bags to really insulate ourselves as even in the days it can get very cold travelling along the vast open plains with the wind hitting you at speed.  Most of my fellow volunteers looked as snug as a bug as we journeyed toward the setting sun.  I was on the ranger Mike’s truck who could quite literally outdo Google in a battle of knowledge and information.  He took us to a spot that would be named Lovers’ Peak if we were living a 60’s Americana throwback movie.  The skies seemingly flicked through a cycle of colours and backdrops.  Blue turned to orange and clouds metamorphosed into trails of ethereal matter.  Shadows seemed to crawl both spaceward and cavernously low simultaneously. Before setting below the mountainous horizon the sun could be mistook for a nuclear blast.  It’s orange and red energy melting into one another and seemingly radiating its core outward through spherical rays.  None of us could believe we were lucky enough to experience this royal of sunsets and I, for one, like to think of myself as a connoisseur of sunset viewing.

Back on the track for little over five minutes and our next marvel was to be had.  Almost the entirety of Shamwari’s elephants were within one panoramic viewpoint held by us all.  To see so many elephants in a photograph would be amazing but to observe them all in one blink of an eye made me feel luckier than perhaps I’ve ever felt.  Some were grazing of the huge selection of flora on the menu, many seemed to be jestful in rolling around, play-fighting and seemingly conversing.  More were walking in a line together almost like a scene from Jungle Book (Mike assured us that elephants have been known to walk trunk-in-tail with one another even though we could not see it happening).  We could of stayed all night but we all knew there would be so much more to see.

Next on the agenda were 3 sleeping lioness’ quite a distance away.  Tough to make out fully as from all angles of the track they were obscured by the bush they lay under.  It was still cool to see that even lioness females have a girly sleepover now and then.  I imagined them all watching Sex In The Bush with some ice-cream.  After moving on, now in total darkness we had a spotlight to scan the areas we were passing and Mike’s eagle-eyes picked out a lonesome Brown Hyena on the prowl.  He walked right by our truck and so myself and Mr Hyena had a staredown.  I’m not kidding, it seemed like he stared deep into my soul before indignantly continuing his scavenger hunt.  We were assured that spotting a Brown Hyena is quite rare at night so we continued our chase as he picked up the pace.  It was really quite thrilling as we pursued him from a safe distance to try and discover his destination as it seemed like it had its own agenda.  He unfortunately bolted after a little while, probably got bored of gawping humans with a spotlight.

It seemed Lady Luck was hitching a ride with us this night as immediately after we spotted a White Rhino just off our track.  He had the biggest horn I’ve seen yet on a rhino.  It was curved like the very crescent moon that was looming overhead.  The horn went on right until it converged to a sharp javelin-like head.  The horn, even in its size was in proportion with this massive beast.  Even without a would-be human skewer on its head a rhino would be an imposing beast.  I like to think of them though as mythical unicorn who found the gym and bigger portions of food.  Even in my jest I could not imagine why on earth someone would want to dehorn this noble creature for meagre printed paper.  A sad situation which I won’t delve in to right here but if ever a poacher did get to close to Spike(this is a name that I claim on this rhino and is not known to him) then I’d like to think Spike would impale him after charging and shake him off near some thankful lions. Spike wasn’t moving  – we’d disturbed his supper and he wasn’t going to be deterred by us – so we did.

After a lot more searching of the perpetual blackness all around we came up with nothing.  So journeying further afield we came upon a blissful quagmire of life and sound.  The black water reflected the Moon’s glare and gave each of the stars above a doppelganger.  Even this stunning sight was outdone by the noise that resonated all around.  By ear alone Mike guessed that he could hear roughly 5 different species of frog.  A symphony of bubbles, rattles, coughs, and croaks was playing as if some Frog King was orchestrating it especially for us.  They were communicating amongst themselves with many males trying to attract a female partner for the night.  It was like some amphibian night-club but what was background noise to them was pure delight to myself.  A million questions was matched by as many answers.  All audible but none decipherable.  In the meantime we switched off all lights which added to this wondrous experience.  I quite literally could of stayed there all night or until the club closed and the slimy punters were kicked out.  I often listen to nature sounds on Spotify when I need to relax and zone-out, being a part of this marshland marvel afforded me tranquility like never before.  It was with dismay that I had to leave but our night was not done.

I’ve read that the senses adapt to situations.  A man who loses his sight may have his hearing boosted as to compensate.  He may then go on to don a red costume and fight crime in Hell’s Kitchen. *Pauses writing to read a Daredevil comic*  I digress, with the night’s blackness all but rendering us blind until we looked toward the deep navy glow of the sky pin pricked with white glows .  It seemed that I was more aware to the soundtrack of the bush than I’d been for the 2 weeks prior.  Life was within earshot everywhere.  Life that would be going about living regardless of whether I was listening or not.  And life happens.  The soothing soundtrack was pierced by a deep succession of powerful roars.  It could only have been the king of the jungle.  Mike’s wits and experience led him to find the Lion who was hidden behind a thicket of grass and trees within minutes.  We spotted Mufasa (because why not) after our little drive with the light which he did not care for.  Apparently that roar was a signalling call to any lionesses looking for fun ( something I’ve come to realise the past two weeks is that the animal world is dominated by the quest for food and bumping uglies) on this fine evening.  We were hoping that the girly night-in we saw earlier would liven up and join the magisterial Mufasa.  After a lot of waiting and watching of the seemingly docile big cat no one answered his call.  Poor guy.  He seemed to accept his fate and didn’t roar again.  The whole time he didn’t move apart from check if we were still there a few times.  It was a shame we didn’t see him roar right in front of our eyes but the poor guy had his confidence knocked back and couldn’t be blamed for wanting to sleep it off.  THE LION SLEEPS TONIGHT…….

Amidst our hour of hopeless waiting Mike gave us an astronomy lesson using the night sky as his blackboard.  We learned about the Southern Cross constellation and its correlation to due-south.  We observed Scorpio which was surprisingly reminiscent of an actual scorpion.  Some constellations I just can’t make out what the past civilisations were making out.  In looking toward the stars though I had no doubt of why since our inception as a race all peoples have put so much precedence on the sky and all it’s majesty. To create belief systems and deities from what could be found in looking skyward was fully understandable to me now.  The night-sky is an open canvass that one can create worlds from or another can use as a basis for all their desires.  In looking up we have always strived for greatness, to look toward the stars is to create ideals and run head-on to them.  I’ve seen a majestic night-sky whilst travelling Thailand but here it seemed majestic in a different way.  The open African night-sky is full of hope, wonder and wishes.  And also deceptive airplanes that one can easily mistake for alien life or a shooting star!

On our way back to base we were all struck dumb with a fervour of our spectacular night and amongst our conversations we spotted hippopotamus out of water and porcupine families on an evening stroll.  Hares that bounce like kangaroo and myriad zebra roaming just outside our camp.  In an evening of monumental moments I still stood outside in the bitter cold before going to sleep and gazed to the stars to impose my own hopes, wonders and wishes.

Thanks for reading.

Aaron Farrell.

My First Week As A Game Reserve Volunteer At Shamwari.

Precursor: My worldwide travels began with becoming a game reserve volunteer at a project called Shamwari Conservation Experience.  Shamwari Game Reserve is positioned 75 km outside of Port Elizabeth on the eastern cape of South Africa.  It is a coveted and award winning private game reserve with 25,000 hectares of free-roaming wildlife.  Amongst all of that free-roaming wildlife is the much sought after African Big 5.  Here is an account of my first week volunteering on this special and rewarding project.

Welcome.. To Shamwari Game Reserve

Monday 5th October – PM

Myself and my girlfriend arrived in the early evening at Shamwari after a day of excitement at what our 2 weeks ahead would entail.  We were greeted kindly by the fellow volunteers (as you can do anywhere from 2 weeks to 6 months there) already on the project and the excellent staff.  We had a our first braai (A South African BBQ of sorts).  After getting to know many of the volunteers and hearing their tales of experiences at Shamwari I was beyond excited.  We were about ten people sitting around a fire edging closer to the orange glow as the night got cooler.  A moment of tranquility washed over me as everyone was silently ogling the fire.  I thought a group of 10 or more people back home would share silence only for being absorbed into their phones and digital lives. Silence was had here apart from the soundtrack of the african bush, seemingly everyone contemplating their place as their eyes were drawn in by the fire.  This moment was a telltale sign of the wonderful times

that were to come.

Tuesday 6th October – AM Activity (Imagine this date flashing at you Law & Order style)

The first morning started with the obligatory introductory chats of rules, regulations, aims, goals and ethos of the Shwari CNSV: XP (Conservation Experience wasn’t enough of a mouthful apparently).  It was an informative introduction with scope for a Q&A.   After the formalities we were able to get stuck into the manual work. An AM session is the manual work and PM is then for monitoring and tracking of wildlife.  The task was to toil land and dig holes for a new green house frame.  I once read in a great book aptly named Holes that “digging holes builds character”.  The bigoted Warden may have actually had a point.  In knowing that what I was doing was worthwhile and needed I had no problem pick-axing and shovelling hard soil.  Part of the reason I enjoyed may have been down to me swinging a pick-axe thinking I was The Mighty Thor. It was fun, well-coordinated , worthwhile and I felt a hearty mornings work deserved a hearty lunch (which we got).

Tuesday 6th October – PM activity.  (DUM-DUM)

“Elephant Monitoring”.  Upon reading that on the info board I nearly peed thinking my afternoon would be spent in the company of great African elephants.  I was as giddy as Samwise in his quest throughout The Lord Of The Rings books to see a fabled Oliphaunt. On our way to the elephant herds whilst seated on the mighty open-viewing game trucks my fellow volunteers and I stumbled upon two Black Rhinoceros.  These Rhino brothers were staggeringly huge in every aspect.  Even whilst bathing in a mud pool they looked frighteningly dominant.  After taking many photos and our ranger giving us information on the species and statistics of Black Rhino and of their sibling bond we found not one but two separate herds of elephant strolling along a grassy plane.  They too bathed themselves in a mud-pool after domineeringly shifting on the horned brothers using strength in numbers.  Seeing a mother elephant shower her baby was a majestic sight to behold.  They all seemed to be having fun rolling around in the mud which would of been cooling on this very warm African afternoon.  If it weren’t for strict rules, rangers I respected and a general desire for self-preservation I’d have stripped off and ran right in to join them.

A majestic moment…

With some more driving and spotting of many other animals like the patriotic and quaint Springbok, wall-crawling lizards, swathes of Impala and Zebra grazing without a care and many a cheeky monkey; it was time to monitor three elephant sisters and their eating habits.  The sisters three were all at different stages in life and so it was a brain-meltingly cute experience to observe the youngest struggling to use her trunk to pick some food.  Thankfully with enough effort and hard-work she managed to get the hang of it (there’s a really awful pun there if you so want it) and seemed ecstatic that she could imitate her big sisters.

Rhino Monitoring

After a substantial meal and sharing in the awe of my day with my fellow volunteers we settled in the common area and watched The Hobbit together.  A fitting end to a remarkable day.  I smiled at Gandalf uttering to Bilbo “Home is behind you, the world is ahead”.

Wednesday 7th October.  AM

This mornings work was to cut down alien (back off conspiracy theorists) trees that didn’t belong to Shamwari’s own ecosystem. With machetes.  There is something almost primal hacking down trees with a machete.  Machismo was rife throughout the voluntary ranks.  The trunks were to be used then to build a fence around Shamwari’s Born Free section where Big Cats rescued from night-clubs, circus and the like are brought to start a new life.

PM

Open Monitoring was on the cards which means driving around and spotting animals and then whomever the ranger is as your driver will host questions and dole out astounding facts from the top of their head.  Passion shines through foremostly in their love for the place and the wildlife.  We brought out the telemetry equipment to track chipped cheetah.  The first few hours hide-n-seek were to no avail. BEEP. BEEP. We finally had a track on it. BEEP. BEEP. I felt like i was in an Alien movie.  (OH CRAP ITS RIGHT ABOVE US MANNN!) Instead of wishing away the BEEP’s, we were welcoming them.  We got to within a few square miles of the elusive cheetah and stopped to do some more tracking when suddenly I spot a shaded head with eyes beneath a deep-green bush.  I alerted my ranger Cindi and we slowly crept toward it in the truck to get a better sighting.  Lo and behold there were two cheetah! The bush provided cooling shade from the hot african sun.  I was feeling awful proud and recommended myself for a ranger job immediately.  On a serious note though, just seeing these beautiful creatures in their natural habitat is a surreal and yet warming feeling.  They were there with or without my eagle-eyes.  A perfect afternoon providing a thrilling chase and a bountiful reward in seeing these exalted creatures.

I was the one to spot these two beauties. I of course recommended myself for a ranger job

Thursday 8th October. AM

Thursday morning started with a trip to the Born Free Foundation on site.  Here’s what the Born Free Foundation uses as it’s opener on the website.

The Born Free Foundation is at the forefront of drawing the public’s attention to the plight of wild animals confined in impoverished captive environments and promoting through education and public awareness, a humane agenda.

So yeah, they are doing some incredible work in rescuing Big Cats from such alien environments such as night-clubs and circuses where they’ve grown up with iron bars in front of their eyes and  mindless, shallow people leering at them. Our job was to cut the grass around the fenced area (these Cats are kept in huge fenced off areas as, in the wild they’d sadly not last as they’ve been so mistreated and had their instincts beaten out of them) with machetes – another day; another chance for me to swing a machete and feel macho.  Working hard under the gaze of a domineering lion is truly quite an experience.

PM

We had a talk from one of the on-site veterinarians who took care of the animals; ranging from injured Impala and naughty Zebra to orphaned jackal pups to Hope The Rhino.  Check out the Hope’s story anywhere online she is now world-famous for surviving a cowardly act of poaching where her horn was removed but in the process the scum defaced her.  Some 10 operations later she is still alive and well physically but obviously having most of your face cut off would leave scars mentally as well as physically.  The team at the rehab centre; as with every other member of staff I’ve met at Shamwari is full of knowledge, vigor and perhaps most importantly passion: passion to make a difference in all these animals lives who have been wronged by fellow humans and the impact of ghastly trades such as poaching.

Friday 9th October – AM & PM

Fridays are different at the CNSV:XP as we leave the dramatic landscapes of the African Bush to go into local communities to work on projects to boost relations and hopefully living standards in these impoverished communities.  Myself and 19 other volunteers went into Alice Town to fix up new windows at the school (as most were broken) and fit two new netball posts.  As the ride took us into the community I couldn’t believe my eyes.  I’ve never seen harder times on people – most children were barefooted and raggedy clothed, many adults were just sweeping the streets aimlessly as if to wipe away their current situation as what I perceived (perhaps wrongly) as hopelessness.  Seeing the direness of of my then current surroundings gave me a newer perspective on myself and my life.  My problems have never been problems.  I’ve never had to face such adversity.  I struggled to think of a plausible way that these people would have a viable chance to break the mould and get up in life to pursue their dreams.

A young boy running in Alice Town

Upon arriving at the school and seeing so many heartwarming bright smiles from children running after our truck with glee, I was so glad to see these young souls able to smile and laugh and the tiniest of matters.  Children with no shoes smile with the most heart.  Getting to work in taking out the old windows and putting in a new pane was fiddly work with chipping away the old adhesive and fitting anew (it took me around 40 minutes to fit one) but I surprised myself as I’ve never been the greatest at DIY.  The netball poles needed a lot of physical exertion as we had to dig two and half foot into tough gravel to create a steady base.  It took around 5 hours to get the correct measurements and fit the poles with the inbetween of mixing cement with shovels( No school like the old-school).  Every person poured in all they had into all the jobs and we all felt great at the end of the day at what we had achieved and in how we may give these innocent children a little something to get excited about.  In the grand scheme of things it is but a drop in the ocean of fixing up this hearty community.  A drop however that we all felt proud of and more than happy to give ourselves to.  I had a lot of conversations with my new-found friends about how this was affecting them and seeing this small community that had nothing bar a small shop and perhaps a misplaced liquor store but could look outward to the vast, expansive views of mountainous backdrop surrounding their homes and see real, natural beauty.

So that was my first week as a volunteer at Shamwari Conservation Experience.  It was filled with wonder and awe, my breath was taken away and my heart felt both heavy at times and uplifted at others.  Seeing Alice Town’s poor community juxtaposed against a polished new golf course was more than enough food for thought about South Africa’s past and present problems.  From what I’ve seen though South Africa is a place full of spirit and soul.  People are willing to face problems as opposed to moan about them and that is slowly growing as a world player in teaching all other nations about overcoming its past and looking toward a brighter future.  I have one more week at Shamwari before I go forth on my travels and am twitching at the thought of the marvel and spectacle next week will bring.

It’s The Final Countdown *Hums uncontrollaby*

The past week has been like being inside the Millennium Falcon with The Empire in hot pursuit – but on an emotional plane as opposed to a galaxy far, far away…

I’ve planned, prepared, saved, researched, booked, waited, researched some more and now it’s here.  Tomorrow I leave home in the pursuit of my dreams and desires.  All the anxious waiting and tearing my hair out through being so frustrated in a job I hate just to save money is done.  The past month I’ve been living a life of luxury/ being on the dole.  I’ve done whatever I have liked and taken my time with anything I’ve enjoyed and been counting down the milliseconds to departing on my big adventure.  Now it’s upon me and I’m blubbing like I did when I first watched John Coffey (“like the drink only not spelled the same” *heart shatters into microscopic pieces*) walk The Green Mile.  What I’ve learned from many kind words of advice from loved ones and vast quantities of internal discussions with myself ( Not the FIght Club kind) is that pursuing my dreams and finally achieving them is a dizzying amount of awesome to allow yourself but with the nature of my pursuit – journey the world – then there absolutely has to be sacrifices and therein lies the fuel for my onset of tears and floaty bellies. Something that has occurred to me however is that every great adventurer and explorer who has been marked in history for disembarking on a great journey, had to leave all they’ve ever known behind.

Many absurdly kind things have been said to me of my character, my ideals, my morals and obviously my taste in film.  I feel lucky that I have the affect on people I’ve always wanted to have.  I’ve always wanted to be a symbol of hope, a silent guardian, a watchful protector…. a DARK KNIGHT. (Sorry I just get carried away with my inner geek – a lot – so any chance I get I will be pastiching my favourite Batman monologues) It’s a stunning kind of feeling to realise that mostly everything you want to be to people you are.  I want to inspire and to give people a new perspective in all things.  So in hearing these things being said to me I feel easier in the knowledge of leaving everyone behind in the chasing of dreams and wonderment.  I mean seriously if you’re not gonna travel to widen your pallet of culture and diversity and find inner peace then do it for a bitching leaving party and all the kindness that’ll be thrown your way when people realise they’re not gonna see you for a long time.  My self-esteem is at an all time high.  I feel like Kanye getting a high-score on a public arcade Pac-Man machine.

Upon quitting my job and affording myself the opportunity to now see as much of our wide, wonderful world as possible I’ve realised I’m in a very unique position. So many people have earnestly told me of their jealousy of my position ( my response is always in line with my ideals – You can do it too!) so in that respect I sit here alone atop this mountain of disregard toward The System and societal expectation.  I feel free. Totally free.  I have no constraints on me. When I step on that first airplane I am officially unofficial.  Im the liberator of chains. ( Currently chanting “Mhysa” in my bedroom whilst photoshopping a picture of my face onto a picture of Daenerys Targaryen)  What is also unique is that I’ve sold or stored my material possessions.  If you hadn’t of guessed I’m in touch with my geeky side and so I have a lot of memorabilia, toys, replicas, wands, lightsabers, batarangs et al.  Initially daunting and gradually liberating I recommend to all to have a little bit of a purge.  Assess all your material possessions and see what you really can do without and then take some stuff to a charity shop or hand them on down to siblings.  It has a tranquil catharsis to it.  I was not being critical enough initially packing my big rucksack ( my gunna consists of a large rucksack and a smaller rucksack attached to my skateboard fashioned as a pulley holdall).  After hiring an architect to try and work out the angles of packing a 42 inch TV into a rucksack I realised I had to be brutal and so there was where I found that alluring catharsis.  So it is done.  I’m all packed.  My rucksack has the density of the middle of a black hole but it is packed.  My deft, skilled mother used a cushion and old Batman t-shirt to fashion padded straps on the rucksack for a personal touch of load bearing.  I’m so ready to give myself lasting spinal damage carrying my life in a rucksack through jungles and across beaches. I’d say over seas but it’s so heavy it’d act like concrete slippers.  I looked into Carl and Ellie’s idea of using a lot of balloons to just take my house with me and be done with it but the guy in town selling balloons had had a prosperous day.  6 Peppa Pig-shaped balloons just didn’t suffice.

So this is it.  All that is left is trying to explain to my dog Hulk that I’m leaving him to better myself and drink in all the world has to offer to be met with him twist is head in comprehension and lick my face to bid me farewell.  Tomorrow I leave and my next blog entry will be from South Africa after a hard day of trying to re-create The Lion King with real Simbas and Rafikis. I look forward to sharing my writings with my friends, family and followers.  I’m happy you’ve chosen to join me.  I’m on the precipice of (self) discovery.  As peoples, as a species, we are always teetering on that precarious edge.  All I’ve done is beat the imbalance and leap toward the new and the unknown.  Nothing new grows in the garden of comfort.

See you on the other side.

Aaron Farrell

You are you are you.

You are you are you.
It’s no one else’s claim.
To not be entirely you.
Well, that would be a shame.

Follow your inner most passion
Whether it be food, books, ornithology
Just look what Indiana did in the name of archeology.

There’s seven billion people on the watery rock we live
Just be mindful who you let slip through your own personal sieve.

Travel far, travel wide, travel inside and out, 

To find happiness and spread its infection is truly devout.

Be your own hero before you become a beacon of light in the sky
To know your weaknesses is a strength
As is never telling yourself a lie

There’s one of you
there’s one of me
For the vaults in your mind and heart
Your own happiness is the key

Learn something new each day
culture, words, a lover’s love
open your eyes to earth’s beauty
Experience is magic, from a hat comes a dove

You are you are you.
It’s no one else’s claim.
To not be entirely you.
Well, that would be a shame.