Ramblings of the travelling nature

Mysterious lands are hard to come by these days; Mysterious not by the fact that they haven't being explored but for the fact they are misunderstood and the public perception is so misguided or rather misdirected that just mentioning the name provokes self-created images which are often distorted and rarely positive. Iran is one such land.

With the Persian Gulf and Caspian Sea's rich waters flowing in the north and south respectively, Iran sits at a pretty uncomfortable place on the world map. Flanked by the Middle East (of which Iran is technically not a part of) and their past bitter enemies Iraq to the west and Central Asia with problematic Afghanistan and Pakistan to the east; Iran certainly has some interesting neighbours and for the last 30 or so years has had a struggling and increasingly demising image problem with the 'West'. A brief Iranian history lesson reveals that once America and Iran were allies until of course the coup with CIA involvement brought an abrupt end to all of that and ever since has become a very frosty relationship indeed. My view om American politics has never being positive and I guess I seem them as puppeteering bullies who pull the strings in there favour and get there big 'buddies' to join in; if they don't want to they will start to take there once friends 'lunch money'. There are so many instances of this happening and of course the current one of nuclear proliferation. It does strike me as strange how they can all be talking it and demanding it yet the idea of starting with themselves hasn't even come to the table and I see no reason for Iran to even slightly trust any word or idea that is being brought forward as both themselves and other countries have been backstabbed countless time, add to that the US isn't even giving Iran there 'agreement' that they will not attack Iran if it abandons its nuclear program; whereas this 'agreement' has being given to North Korea.
I think we they should be looking at the much more serious issue of Israel and Iran which seems to be going unnoticed but an issue that is only getting worse and with Israel possibly having a nuclear weapon already why isn't anyone looking at this? perhaps the fact that the two have been rather friendly of late and have become 'allies'.
I guess its the same thing of fighting al Qaeda in Afghanistan and turning a blind eye to the out of control problems in Somalia where there hasn't been an official government for nearly 20 years and now a safe haven and breading ground for extremists, many of whom have fled from Afghanistan.
It's all about public perception and political agendas.

This all of course is one side of the coin, the side which most people see and know of; the government front. Flip it over and you'll discover the other side; the people - Iranians, some of the most truly friendly and sincere people in the world.
Spending two and a half weeks here really opened my eyes to Iranian culture and its people as like most others my eyes were closed and only knew what was feed to me in the news. Starting from Azerbaijan I moved across to the east before returning to Tehran and down through the central desert to the town of Shiraz before making a bee-line to the exit in the north west. I tried to get a diverse experience as possible with such a short amount of time that I had.
The experiences I had in Iran are some of which I will still be talking about in years to come and definitely not forgetting in a hurry. The hospitality expressed from Iranian's is very unique and something I have never encountered before, something which makes you skeptical when first experienced until you realise just how sincere they really are. What makes Iranian hospitality very different for me is there curiosity and boldness; unlike many other nations that I have visited where the locals will happily stare and track you down the street at the mere sight of a foreigners, Iranians will do no such thing which for me is a massive sign of respect. Instead they will approach you to ask all there curious questions and not just the young men either; old, young, men and women it doesn't matter - if they have a question they want to know the answer. The latter of which, women; was a bit of a surprise as being an Islamic Republic I was under the impression that women weren't allowed to talk to men of whom they were not related or connected to, part of which is correct but as long as there is no sexual intent its not forbidden.
Most young Iranians can speak comprehensible English as many have aspirations to leave the country to further there university studies and with this not only there questions can be asked but mine as well, giving a real insight into the new and upcoming generation of Iran. Many of these do not agree with Ahmadinejad's stubbornness to the west as its becoming damaging to the image or Iranians, while the Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei is much unliked by most Iranians, but all are fiercely proud of where they come from.
The questions come thick and fast from both sides and there were so many instances of being in the bus with the seat beside me being switched constantly as so everyone could quench there curiosity. This did become annoying after a while but there offerings of food, drink, sweet and insight made up for it! The bus trip usually ended up with an invite to be picked up from the terminal and taken to a feast where the meeting of relatives, friends and partners ensued.

I don't think I will ever forget the guys from Esfahan, such a great couple of days; so much so I wanted to go back before I left. From the Hookah seasons to the car breakdown, the city tour, meeting the family and riding around with 5 of us on the back of the motorbike. Just brilliant!
The one phrase that I will tie to Iran forever as through the first English question they're ever taught, "No Problem?' ... No problem at all!

Check out the pics here >>>
http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/Backpacking-Jaunts/Scandinavia-Europe-Caucasus/Iran-Kurdistan-Iraq-2009/

Few countaries need an introducton, but like its neighbours has been in the media spotlight for all the wrong reasons for the last few years; so it was time to discover just what this country was all about.

Georgia (not the girl, not the US state; but the country) is nestled in a part of the world that most don't really know about and until last year most hadn't head of, so much so that I didn't even know where it was until the girls in Belarus couldn't stop raving about it, so looking for a challenge I jetted off to Tbilisi the capital in search of what this place really was. It was also the staging point for the filming of the documentary pilot; 'Drop Me Off Here' which we are currently producing.
In 2008 Georgia and the international community were shocked and surprised when the big neighbour Russia launched an attach on the country smaller then the size of Switzerland and already split with two autonomous regions. Russia managed to seize a notable chunk of the mid-north aster fierce fighting with the Georgian army that even managed to reach the outskirts of Tbilisi.

Today there is little sight of what happened not even a year ago. Of course the area sized by the Russians (South Ossetia) is a no go zone but the rest of the country is ripe for the exploring.
Georgia is famous the world over for two things. There wine and there hospitality; both of which are in abundance. The hospitality that Georgians show to strangers is rightly shown in the 'Mother of Georgia' statue standing tall above the hills of Tbilisi, she holds a sword in one hand and carvet of wine in the other. Georgians believe that if they meet a stranger they must help them out in whatever way they possibly can, whilst on the other hand they are fiercely proud and will fight there enemies till the end.

The hospitality we encountered was just so unbelievable and never ending with the experiences uncountable. One instance we were just sitting in a small cafe having some lunch when the table of guys next to ours offered to buy us a bottle of vodka, of course we accepted (there's no way you can't!) and before we knew it they had got one of there fathers to bring his taxi and drive up up to a monastery in the hills. On arriving we were introduced to the regional vicar who then invited us to some of his home brewed wine and warn fresh made bread. That not being enough it was then off to a restaurant where over 2 hours the drinking, eating and singing didn't stop until everyone was rightly exhausted. There was just to many instances of this kind of thing and many if not all revolving around good food and home made alcohol.

The hospitality alone didn't just impress me. Georgia like so many countries in the region was once under Soviet control and like many of these countries shook its Soviet shackles around the same time; but here they are taking it one step further that the rest of the group (minus Estonia).
Georgia is trying very hard to bring back what makes them Georgians, this can especially be seen in Tbilisi where the change is unbelievable and happening so fast you wouldn't even think this was once Soviet land. Of course change takes time and starts from the center, in this case Tbilisi; and not without its problems either. The mentality of the people here and the widely diverse landscapes from the snow caped mountains to the warm sands of the black sea and onto the southern semi-desert; Georgia is definitely on the right track and well on its way to becoming a new tourist destination. I know when people ask me the question, "What's your favourite country?" I have a new answer...... "Georgia!"

Check out the pics here >>>
http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/Backpacking-Jaunts/Scandinavia-Europe-Caucasus/Georgia-2009/

Over the last few month I have been asked on a growing number of occasions "What's in the bag man?"
So I am going to share with you how I do it and what the hell I have been carting around on my back for the last few years.

WHAT"S IN IT!

Backpack

I have to say the backpack I have has been so good to me and perfect for what I need. Some said before I left to get a cheap and nasty one but when you look at how these things work if one buckle or strap breaks you screwed until it can be fixed.
I've got an Osprey Crescent backpack with a 75 litre capacity. Some say that a bit big but no matter how much I put in it I can't seem to fit more than 20kg which is a crucial number when you want to avoid excess baggage costs with a growing number of airlines. The size is just right too. Not too big to squeeze onto crowded public transport or fit into small buses or luggage lockers.

- Top Compartment

• Harmonica - Still yet to master or even play this instrument
  
• Additional Straps - For attaching item to the outside of pack
  
• Collected tickets and memorabilia + coin collection
  
• Hidden compartment containing passport / insurance photocopies & US$200 cash in small notes
  

- Main Compartment

• Compact sleeping bag
  
• Quick drying towel
  
• 2 x Stuff bags for clothes
  #1 - Couple pairs socks & underwear + 5 T-Shirts
  #2 - Shorts, jeans and a pair of pants + board shorts (swimming shorts)
  
• 2 person tent
  
• Hat
  
• Winter Kit (Dark Green bag standing next to the backpack in the pic above)
  - One really warm jacket, One not so warm jacket, gloves & a beanie (woolen hat)
  
• Toiletry Bag
  - Toothbrush, toothpaste, moisturizer, deodorant, shampoo, body wash, sunscreen,
  shaving stuff, hair gel, tweezers & nail clippers
  
• Medical Bag
  - Load of medication from heartburn to diarrhea stoppers and starters + bandages,
  hypodermic needles, gauze pads, iodine etc. & condoms
  

- Bottom Compartment

• Trekking shoes
  
• Thongs/Flip-Flops/Jandals
  
• 'Dressy' shoes
  
• Sleeping kit with eye patch, neck pillow & soft ear plugs
  
• Medical book - For how to use all the medication above
  
• Backpack bag - Fits entire backpack in & fully lockable
  
• Stuff Sack 1 - Yellow
  - Mini calculator, bottle opener, torch, sunglasses strap, mobile phone,
  GPS unit (used for mapping & GeoCaching http://geocaching.com), universal power adaptor & Buff head-wear
  
• Stuff Sack 2 - Blue
  - Sleeping sheet, universal bath plug, clothes line, pack of cards, multi-tool, spare SD memory card,
  steel wire & padlocks, battery charger and 4 x long life batteries, custom molded ear plugs
  

Daypack

• Sunglasses
  
• Cigarettes & lighter
  
• USB stick
  
• Digital Camera
  
• Tissues
  
• Document wallet
  
• Music 'pod'
  - iPod Nano, headphones, USB power adapter & cable + stereo jack cable
  

CONNECTION WITH THE WORLD

Well of course there is email, what person from my surrounding generations doesn't have an email address they can access anywhere in the world. My personal one isn't the most professional (or related to my talents!) but it is memorable, so when meeting people for just a minute amount of time you can drop the address in the conversation and chances are you'll hear from them again.
Then there are the 4 main websites I use to communicate and share my experiences through.
Facebook http://www.facebook.com/Jason.W.S - This site has really changed the way I can stay in contact with people and also see what everyone else is up to when I don't have so much time to send individual emails.
Travellerspoint http://www.travellerspoint.com/member_profile.cfm?user=RedMonkey - Besides the blog it has a fantastic mapping feature which I keep regularly updated so not only others can see where I have been but for me to be able to pinpoint a specific date and know where I was.
CouchSurfing http://www.couchsurfing.org/redmonkey - Have been quite active on here recently and it provides both places to sleep and access to people everywhere who you can pick there brains for local knowledge and ideas.
SmugMug http://redmonkey.smugmug.com - Online photo storage at its best. Love it!

Then of course there is Skype which is a fantastic idea, but trying to find computers that are fast enough or have the equipment to make a call can be a challenge.

Online privacy is also a big issue there days with potential employers, embassies and who knows who else trying to search for dirt on you, which is why I use the alias of 'RedMonkey' to keep those unwanted eyes away from my online presence.

MY ONLINE COMPUTER

Not travelling with a laptop is seem by some as a crime in this digital world and if I was to add up the amount of money I have spent in Internet cafes I might just change that decision. I have no need for a laptop while I'm on the move as everything is already online and readily accessible. Gone are the days of having to delete emails as your inbox is bursting with messages and so is full of information, files, photos, contacts etc. I use a service called Box http://www.box.net which is basically a online hard drive you can arrange just like on a normal computer plus give access rights to whoever you like to view and edit. Here lives all sorts of files from resumes, job applications, scanned images, insurance and passport documents, random writings and anything that's worth keeping.
Another service which I just love is MP3Locker http://www.mp3tunes.com and as the names suggests it has all my music from my laptop online and synced up, allowing me to play and download anywhere in the world my music library just as if my laptop was in front of me.

MONEY MATTERS

Every traveller has a different way they deal with there money. Here is mine and I love it because it works so well for me and have yet to get into a real sticky situation of not been able to access my funds....unless of course there are none actually there!
In the age of Internet any bank that want to do serious business has some kind of Internet banking which makes it all too easy to keep a track of everything from transferring money to making domestic and international payments.
I travel with two credit cards, not because I'm greedy for cash but for the simple fact that I only have one on me at a time, so if I get mugged; no worries just dig out the other and where off again. The other and probably more important reason is that one is a MasterCard and the other a Visa as despite what there marketing would have you believe, either or are not accepted everywhere and with some countries only accepting Visa and vice verse.
Another method I have been using this year is that of a pre-paid credit card which is basically the same as a normal one except you load it with funds yourself and can't spend over that amount. Around every month I will load it with my monthly budget and use this card for all my spending, so when the ATM doesn't want to give me any cash I know I have maxed out on the budget and its time to hit the bread and water! The other advantage is that as it has no credit limit if someone was to steal this card and access it or 'double swipe' it the only money they can get is what you have put on there. In other words not so much compared to some of the credit limits banks are giving out these days.
On top of all of this I have some investment in shares and this acts as my 'emergency fund'. So if everything goes tits up I can just sell out and cash up giving me instant fund for a flight home or somewhere safe after being transferred the funds through a service such as Western Union. Plus while its waiting to be used it's hopefully making money on itself!

That's pretty much how my life is sorted out and with the daily onslaughts of bus timetables, visa applications, exchange rates, local customs, languages, currency and jumping through hoops of bureaucracy once and a while it certainly keeps me on my toes and seems to be working alright.

My Backpack, My Life, Our World

I've used the Russian style train system now so many times and in a growing amount of countries that I thought I would share just what it is like traveling vast distances on these never dull carriages of intrigue before the magic wears off on me.

Let's begin with the first step of actually getting a ticket!

Pre-Departure
As with most cities in the Eastern Europe block the railway station (Vokzal - Вокзал) is usually a grand old building heaving with people no matter what hour, as they rush about with what seems like there life possessions to unknown destination.
Its inside here that the first challenge awaits; sometimes even long before the desired travel date.

No matter how many time I've done it my legs still shake nervously as I get closer to the counter in the seemingly halted line. I rehearse in my head over and over the name of the place, my pleases and thank-yous in Russian and get my flashcards sorted out (more on that latter) as that one lady who is about to serve you can make or break your journey. These ladies have to be some of the toughest I've come across as they yell and scream behind there enclosed booths to the rude and seemingly endless line of grumpy bodies that wait impatiently to be served.
As scary as they are I do have some compassion for there situation. From what I have gathered these ladies work upwards of 12 hours a day with an hour break for lunch in a booth no bigger than the average toilet with a limited air supply and dealing with a computer system from the 80's all while still having to manually cut and glue pieces of paper to various books. All of this on top of the fact that they are no doubt getting paid pittens and having to deal with some of the rudest people I have ever seen. I too would be a little bit agitated and angry.
Which brings me to the front of the extremely unorganized line, anyone that had been to Russia or it surround will know all too well about the "Russian Style" of lining up.
The shakes have evaporated and I am filled with confidence as any sign of weakness on the front line here is quickly pounced on. I have a method now which in 95% of cases works find and after ALOT of different ways and countless hours of queuing and re-queuing this is what seems to work the best.
Brimming ear to ear with a smile that would make even the hardest grouch crack a grin, I politely ask "Do you speak any English?", knowing forwell that she doesn't speak a word. This usually set the mood and get a lovely smile in return and an audience of laughter from the rest of the line.
With the response of "Net" (pron. Ny-et", a sturdy head shake or a grunt; all of which commence the fun and out come the flashcards.
I started making these this year and my god they have made a difference as before in Russia you would either need assistance to come actually come to the train station or spend countless minutes trying to explain it myself which usually ended up with her closing her booth in a angry mess and thus lighting the rage of the 20 or so people behind me who are already highly charged from waiting an hour already. This or yelling and screaming at me with what I can only assume are profanities followed by me being pushed aside and well ticketless and defeated till I start all over again at the next booth.

A bit of pre-preparation is the key. Working out you destinations spelling in the local alphabet is pretty much crucial to the whole ordeal and also what train you actually want to get, all of this is easily found on the departures board...easily confused with the arrivals board except departures are on the yellow one!. This along with the answers to what every ticket lady wants to know and so can be stuck on here window in an instant as I re-arrange the paper for the desired answer.
The whole process usually take around 5 minutes unless of course she throws the odd ball question in which case I flash all my answers or feed here the paper through the hole but it usually mean that that train is full.
For a foreigner who is prepared it take 5 minutes, This leaves the baffling question on why it takes the locals who know the system and speak the language on average 15 minutes MINIMUM each to get there tickets!!
Expect the whole process to take 1-2 hours, this is of course after you have found the right window as most ticket halls have at least 5, all of which sell different tickets at different time with different lunch breaks and if you are unfortunate enough to be behind someone with what appears to be vouchers, allow at least 30 minutes for the novelty of watching how the world worked before the arrival of computers. The craft set comes out as she cuts, glues, writes and tapes carious bit of paper into various books all after a lengthy phone call to what can only be assumed as "Head Office" and what appears to be an interrogation of said customer with vouchers. Priceless really.

On Board
Finding the platform, carriage and compartment is pretty straight forward and once you know how the ticket is laid out its all too easy as all of the CIS countries seem to have adopted the same system.
Depending on what country your in and even which service your on the train can have up to 3 classes, what class you end up in can all bit a bit hit-and-miss and come as a surprise when you board as the lady that issued your ticket might have bumped you up as there were no beds left or that class isn't even on that train!

1st Class
I have never had the delight of spending countless hours in a 1st class cabin, but have peeked into a few and seems basically the same as second class except there are only two beds and you get a lovely vase of plastic flowers. I wouldn't count on getting any better service though for a price of what is usually double the cost of the class below.

2nd Class (Rus. - Kupé)
This is what I usually go for as its normally a safe bet on actually getting a place and well I can never remember the word for 3rd class!
Kupé varies on different routs and am yet to figure out what the system is. For example; what you get in 2nd class on one route might be the same on another route but down in 3rd class...confused?! Your still in a closable cabin but with 4 beds and that's about it, if your lucky you might have a cabin with arctic temperature "air conditioning" piped into it. The cabin is about the width of 3 people standing and with 36 people in one carriage. Each carriage comes with its own set of "housekeepers" who let you on the train, make lovely cups of Chai, abruptly wake you up before your station to get off and arrange a playlist of Russian popular classical music for you to watch the world go by. These (generally) ladies are as from the same batch of cookies as the ones in the ticket office and put up with no nonsense at all; as we found out on our travels on the trans-Mongolian!
The toilet as with all the classes is...well an experience. Not quite down to the Indian standard of literally a hole in the floor but is best to get in early for two reasons. That roll of paper in there is all your going to get; once that's out. Tough luck! (I don't even think that paper rates as one-ply) The other is it can get messy in there real quick, so just hope your bed is at the other end of the carriage as you will be wafted to sleep by the smell of stale urine otherwise.

3rd Class (Rus. - Platzcart)
This class is my personal favorite and gives me a big grin every time. Unlike the previous classes, here the door is gone along with any privacy and 6 sleep to a compartment with the hallway running straight in between. Its quite hard to explain but if you get a chance sleep here....well if you can. Sleeping here can be quite difficult as the concofany of smells and noises envelopes your senses. Just imagine 54 people taking there shoes off, most arrive on board pissed and so pass out to join the orchestra of snoring vibrating through the carriage along with the constant murmurings of inaudible words.
No Chai is serves here, unless of course you bring your own. Your lucky enough to have running water in the toilet.

With all the classes you get a set of clean bed linen, a big squishy pillow to rest upon or under (depending on the noises of your fellow train mates) and sometime, just sometime you might get a pack of tissues to clear out that snotty nose caused by the arctic air conditioning.

Whatever class you choose if you do get a chance to take a trip on one of these train it will sure be an experience to remember.

Photos of carrage classes from "travel-2-ukraine.com"

Reading anything aimed at a tourist visiting Ukraine and no doubt you will be told about the beautiful shore of the Black Sea and that is a must see for any trip to the country.
The Crimea peninsular jutting out prominently from the southern shores of Ukraine is meant to be the diamond that sits proudly on top of the countries seaside crown; but for me its like a once beautiful flower bed, now overgrown with weeds and filled with decay of the past as now left as an untended mess.
Let me explain.

Ukraine is a relative newcomer to the independence scene and as such is still sorting out the abundance of issues that come with that and trying to find its place in 'Europe' and as I'm shore there are more pressing issues there seems to be not a Hryvnia spent on the seashore or from the looks of it anything soon.
I am not the best person to comment on such areas as most of my life has been spend in and around beaches and the ocean and so I guess I have some expectations, not such high expectations I thought.
Let me introduce the town of Feodosia, 180km east of the main resort town of Yalta and perhaps off the radar for any 'Western' visitor. You can make up your own mind on weather you would like to spend your precious summer holiday here.

A two and a half hour marshrutka (mini-bus) journey from the bustling 'capital' and transportation hub of Crimea, Simferopol (€2); drops you off at the bus station and in the usual Russian/Ukrainian way your left to fend for yourself as the 30 people you were riding with mysteriously disappear into the dust. At first I thought I got off at the wrong town (which seems to be happening quite a bit lately!), but after confirming that I was in fact in Feodosia perhaps I had misread my dubious map and this wasn't at all a seaside town that I have thought.
The reason for the doubting is that from the view of the the bus station it appeared to be that of a port; the silhouettes of dock cranes peaking above the horizon as a cargo train screeches by violently in a cloud of sooty smoke and dust. This can't possibly be the right place, I knew I should have Googled it to at least see what was there before I set off; It wasn't until I saw a family walking across the car park with an assortment of inflatable toys that I knew a beach was near. As never being to a beach in my journeys through Russian speaking countries, the word is yet to enter my Russian vocabulary and after trying an variety of Spanish, French, Italian and mixing and matching the different sounds plus throwing in the Russian word for water I finally resorted to a a swimming motion in the hope of some understanding.
Having spent 17 hours getting here I wasn't in the mood for these games and so jumped into a taxi for a 15 minute journey to a hotel that the taxi driver assured me was of 'good standard', sometime its just so hard to not thing your about to be fleeced here. That early evening it was time to see just what the next 3 days of beach side living here would be like and after coming from Odessa another seaside 'resort' town and funnily enough home to Ukraine's biggest port my expectations weren't so high but all those glossy pictures I kept seeing gave me hope.

I arrived, I am here and well I am frankly disappointed.
I should point out this is a Russian tourist hot spot with I would say 90% of the people here being from Russia, Ukraine and other CIS countries and so having very different standards to the of the 'West' but I still don't understand why they can't take a little pride in a place that could be something really special.

Just the different smells emanating from here, i wish the pictures could tell; they are just furious. The smell of decomposing garbage wafting through the air is enough to make me pack up my bags and head inland. Piles of garbage left everywhere; on the beach, in the beach, in the water, on the road; I definitely would be building any sand (or actually pebble) castles here for being to worried about what I would dig up! Another smell to frequent my nostrils is that of dried salty old fish, as sellers of this product troll the beaches and line the streets with racks of there stinky stock. The last thing I can even imagine wanting to eat on a stinking hot day is the carcass of a fish, but people do and they seem to love it.
The first problem I encountered was actually finding where the beach was, in hindsight I should have just followed the smell but normally you just look for the countless multi-level buildings and apartments lining the coast and bingo your there.
I did find the water, that of the port which I hopped didn't include the beach; and it didn't. The beach was situated 200 meters beyond the port wall and lined with inflatable jumping castles, rusting amusement parks and pack with an assortment of bodies randing from the enormous older ladies through to the tiny ultra superficial girls who are mostly mothers (can someone tell me what the birth rate is here!!!) with there Speedo clad husbands usually a couple of meters behind with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. I still am trying to work out how practical it is to wear make-up to the beach, let alone reapplying it after swimming.

I have a lot to understand about the Russian beach culture, and well the Russian culture in general. I have been in Ukraine for nearly a month now and the frustration is starting to build. i understand none of it and it all seems backwards, wrong or just the long way round. I have another 2 weeks by the shores of the Black sea heading to more populated areas so hopefully I will start to understand just a little a bit.

25 years of life on this earth. 25 years of breathing, learning, evolving......living!

It seems that every half decade is a milestone as such when past the teen numbers. 22,24,23 bear no significance like that of 20,25,30 etc. Moments in time where it seems reasonable to look back and remember the past. To what has been achieved, goals reached and lessons learnt. Something which I rarely do but what time time than my 25th birthday and thought I would share.

I can only think back about 5 years or so, anything before that seems to be quite a blur.
So here are the weeks surrounding July 16th for past years gone.

2005
"Fresh off the plan & not so fresh out of Glastonbury"

My arrival date to England was set in concrete, all travels had to end by this date as the excitement for this one event had been building for months. Glastonbury Festival, the biggest performing arts festival in the world and my only chance to taste the goodness as by the time it returned in 2007 my visa would have all but run out.
Coming fresh of the plane from Amsterdam I can still remember the very words the customs official pronounced at Bristol airport.
"Sir, you need to realise that drugs are not tolerated here as in The Netherlands and any misuse of the law will result in your deportation. Have a pleasant working holiday sir."
Arriving in Bristol with no camping gear whatsoever, an effort was made to rectify this problem. Not so much the camping side but more the drinking side of things, although this did not have a favourable outcome.
Standing at the festival gates I knew I had to find somewhere to stay; surly all these tents people are bringing won't be filled with bodies. And they weren't. I managed to find my spot inside a ti-pi tent with Jen, Joe, Catherine and numerous others and we all enjoyed the mid and music together.
It's weird as I don't think I could do that again; just turning up and finding people to stay with at the drop of a hat.
I managed to stay on at the festival as a litter picker, my first job in England and definitely not my last. Being out of contact with the world in the middle of Worthy Farm meant that the unfortunate events that rocked London were not known until days after and thus decided to stay in Bristol until things settled down.
I had found a place to live in what would be my new home for the years to come. London. Arriving to a house in the eastern suburbs which everyone had previously told me to avoid, but the price was still out of my budget and had no choice but to take it. And so was living in E10 - Leyton with a bunch of South Africans.
I don't think I was working at the time, but I do remember marking my birthday with a drink at the local pub.
For those that don't know any South Africans it might be hard to understand but they have, well a way about them. Words were said to another group and before I knew it everyone was running out of the pub sprinting down the street as a car roared after us and the group that was also previously in the pub jump out with cricket and baseball bats. One concussion latter and a few scrapes, brad (nursing his black eye) and I were off to celebrate the proper way at GlobalGathering Festival just north of Shakespeare's old joint.

2006
"Monsters, Bulls, Tents & Trucks"

A full on few weeks, after a bit of organising it was time to start the first leg and off to Scotland it was. Spending 3 days honing around seeing anything that was anything from our little yellow bus, we managed to cover a lot of ground; as far north as the Isle of Skye and back across to Aberdeen glimpsing at numerous lochs and mountains as they whizzed by and what any tour would not be complete without a visit to Loch Ness for a bit of monster spotting. Before long it was back to Edinburgh to meet up with Anna; who I was travelling with in Russia, a few more days in Scotland and then down to Spain to start my new and very brief job.
San Fermin festival was fast approaching and thousands of people were about to decent on the Spanish town of Pamplona and hundreds of which would be camping at the camp site I was now employed; well if we got the tents up in time. The details are vague but the memories rich. Jo, Emma, Jacquie all making it worth wild as it was shit work. The memory of a rather large lady squawking orders, picking used condoms from the tents of last season, melting in the 35 degree Spanish summer and being given detention for a reason I can't remember but having to cook dinner for a bus of new arrivals at 3am, and finally enjoying the benefits of what a security uniform and Mag torch can bring. But we were here for one reason, to be chased round the narrow streets of Pamplona whilst intoxicated and covered in red wine with a pack of seathing angry bulls at your heels.
A quick stopover back in London for some last minute preparations and it was back in the air; this time to Berlin.
Not being the first time in the German capital this time I was here for one reason. Love Parade 2007 and what would be the last parade held in Berlin. This single event has to be the greatest and most amazing birthday experience I have has to date. Being granted passes from my recent bar job I picked up at Ministry of Sound in London, myself and Tara were granted access to ride on the MoS float through the swarm of international revelers for hours on end. Such an unbelievable experience and one that won't be forgotten anytime soon!

2007
"Ibiza Ibiza"

What an interesting summer 2007 was. Big highs, big lows, penniless and an illegal alien. The stress of Ibiza was at its height in July. The midway mark from the day I arrived and the point where something had to give. Living in a one bedroom apartment with at that time 7 others was the start of the fracture.
Money issues were starting to become a serious problem and paying the rent a struggle but still we slogged on. An unsuccessful attempt to get my passport re-stamped in Switzerland to allow another 3 month stay proved a waste of time but provided some valuable alone time which was quite a rarity on the island. Upon my return it was this alone time I began to cherish and decided to leave the party capitals for a view on a more realistic lifestyle waiting on the other side. It was here I spent the 16th. Basking in the sun and riding the surf of the clear blue waters and capping it off watching the sun set with the rhythmic percussion of drums in the background. A true escape from paradise.

2008
"Sleepless in Seattle"

Having just arrived in Seattle after too many days at sea steaming from San Francisco, the last thing I wanted to do was spend it with my fellow crew members. So after finishing off the awesome cake shaped like a guitar (strings & all!!) made by the on board chef, I strolled into town looking for something to do. Preferably with music and definitely with alcohol.
Well things just happened to fall into place and whilst having a bite to eat under the shadow of the Space Needle friends were made and a long night ensued, American style. To think that a year before I couldn't even afford to buy food to rewarding myself with a massive juicy steak and gallons of beer; it was a start of a new beginning.
Being the beginning, money had to be made; so it was back to work the next morning after an hour or so of sleep to wash down the boat yet again in the freezing Seattle summer.

Either i just can't find any photos or it was just so un-eventfull I just didn't take any!!

2009
"From Europe with Love"

Predicting a year of change earlier in the year, it certainly hasn't disappointed. The mind maturing, the ideas changing, the goal posts moved. The past few weeks have been that of excitement. Having just left Belarus after 2 weeks of an extraordinary cultural experience and plant in motion for a 2 month trip through Georgia, Armenia, Azerbaijan and Iran; the gloom of the months before seems to have past as realisations are brought into the daylight.
I have a feeling that 25 is a milestone for me. The year my eyes opened to things once closed. The year where money is no longer a problem and the year were I become proud of what has been achieved for the first time.
To celebrate this special year it needed to be marked somehow; a permanent reminder to look back on and not forget the achievement.
A few months ago Roderigo and myself came up with a tattoo idea. This idea is now a permanent symbol on my inner wrist to never be forgotten and to give energy when called upon.

I can't help but wonder and be filled with excitement for what the next 5 years will bring, as so far my life on this earth has been lived with no regrets and I plan on keeping it that way.

Peace xx