Get ye mowtah runnin’… Head out on the highway! Lookin’ for some action… what ever comes my way! Or should it be, de de de de, de de de de de… We’re leaving for Venus, It’s the final countdown, de de de de, de de de de de… Well here we are. It’s almost like the awakening. Everything I do, it’s done with complete heart. Not that it’s not always, but with completely extra heart. I’m certain the dogs know there’s something fishy going on. They’re always with me anyway, but the last few days, they’ve been stuck to me like glue, where ever possible. I’m having moments of extreme excitement, to be followed quite swiftly by pangs of guilt for buggering off. The thing is, I feel like time is flying past faster than a skydive. To be honest, some days I can’t quite get my head around how fast it goes. One minute I’m in New Zealand, then I’m in Australia, then I’m home, then I’m doing another Degree, then I’m in Egypt, then I’m London, then Im in Cyprus, In between all this I’m where I’m almost certainly in one of my happiest places walking, playing and messing about with my dogs… then… all of a horrible sudden almost five years seem to, and have gone past and I can’t believe it. Is it because I fit so much into my time? Is that why it goes so fast?
So easy would it be, to just sit back, relax (if only I could grasp the concept), and be content with my lot. But like I’ve said before, once you’ve had a whiff of all that’s on offer out there in the sometimes big, sometimes small world, really, you never give up looking. Looking for what? Nothing in particular really, I just like looking. I don’t want to sit on my arse though, watching in on telly, through somebody else’s eyes, I want to see it for myself.
It’s only a few days now, until I set off on my next adventure. Months in the making, I’d like to say the preparations have come together effortlessly. That I won’t know until I get through customs. I don’t think I’ll truly be able to relax until I’ve reached the first destination. Gone are the days, where the fun began as soon as you locked the door at home. I dread going to the airport now, I used to love it. Such idiocy you have to endure from the moment you step through the departure gate. The millions of questions that go through your head when going anywhere these days is enough to send you through. I mean, what could possibly be in my suitcase, ‘that I packed myself’ that shouldn’t be in there? I’ve read ‘The Power of Now’ quite a few times, and how I wish I could maintain that train of non thought. Instead, I was sat getting my hair done yesterday, my twice yearly chop. Where I’d usually be having a crack on with Dayle, the lovely guy who chops my hair for a fortune, I was sat there… with my visual list of thing to do in my mind. My bit of imaginary paper, flapping before my eyes, with still so many things not ticked off. Bollocks really. Today I was thinking, ‘ I bet the bastards put wire cutters through my lock and zip again, they’re bound to think my camera tripod is a machine gun’. Then I was thinking of ways I could get around them thinking this. I thought I could buy some of those alphabet fridge magnets, and stick them to a bit of paper spelling out ‘CAMERA TRIPOD’. This I would place in my suitcase, so when the bag went through the xray machine, they would see what the funny looking thing was and not slice and pull my bag to pieces. Yes, still scarred from them ripping my dive bag apart, god knows what they thought was in that! A real Octopus probably.
Anyway, as Jetsy, Diggy and Flynn lay at my feet, I write this, and I’m ready. I’m going to miss the farm, and I think the farm will miss me too. But there is much to do. So much has happened in the last few months. I’ll never forget the absolute generosity of the two Paul’s in Thailand, two fella’s that really restore you’re faith in humanity. They couldn’t have helped me more, as I head for Asia on my own, this is something I will never forget. They both live in Thailand now, and have given me so much information, help, advice and ultimately a roof over my head (provided I can find the said places, given my track record with navigation) when I get there, I owe them big time. Then there’s Mission Beach, my next destination after. Who could have predicted the ugly Yasi? Bloody Yeti I call it, stomping all over the beautiful Queensland coast. So surreal it was, seeing the footage on the internet, of a place I lived, and still call one of my homes. There’ll be no time for hammock hogging when I get there, I want to help anyone I can when I make my way there. At this stage, I think there’s still no power there. An added twist to the adventure, and I embrace that. Beyond that, well, that’s what I set this blog up for. I will try to update it.
I’ve still got letters from twenty years ago, that people wrote to me, they are fascinating. I’ve got my own diary’s, which are funny as anything you’ve ever read, if you can read code. The importance of documenting shit is so important, I think. You never remember the finer details otherwise, no matter how good you think your memory is. Even photographs only really tell half a tale, perception is left to the viewer with no tale teller. And anyway, I like writing shit.
I’m off now, to hold my bit of ‘to do’ paper upside-down, and see if it looks anywhere near done. Bags to pack. To be honest, if I packed them any sooner than the day I leave, I’d forget what I’d packed and have it all fished out again to see what’s in there, so why bother.
Captain Over! x