northlandboy...and his girl

I don’t think I’ve ever managed to be in my home electorate for polling day. I’m always overseas, or in a different part of the country, or something. This year is no exception, although it was a bit easier to cast a special vote this time, by going in to the main electoral office. It was just like voting on polling day really, but without the crowds. Perhaps that’s why one third of Americans vote early. I didn’t even need to make up an excuse, I just ticked the box on the form. Easy. And now I can go and vote a few more times if the last leaders’ debate changes my mind, right?

Other happenings: You may have heard of the “Dangerous Book for Boys” – well my parents have got me a dangerous book of sorts. The “Insight Deluxe World Atlas” – that’s right, an atlas weighing 5kg. 1:4.5M maps of the world, along with details on the great touring routes of the world. Dangerous indeed. I have to restrict my reading of it though, I might get too many ideas for spending the next decade on the road.

I think I do need to go overseas again too, just so that I can get my bike services. When I was in Iran, and my bike needed some work, I found a place that sorted it out right there, while I waited. In China, going into a bike shop got me invited to a Christmas party. In Alice Springs, the helpful staff went out of their way to help me out, reshuffling other jobs around, to ensure I could get back on the road in a reasonable timeframe. So surely it can’t be that hard to get my mountain bike serviced here in NZ, given that there are 4 bike shops within one kilometre of my house, with another due to open next week. Alas.

My preferred shop, that I walk past every day, had just had their mechanic leave, and so couldn’t do any major work required. OK, it happens. So I find another place, and get told that it will be a minimum of two weeks before they can look at it. Hmmm. Oh well, let’s book it in then. So I go through a list of what I want done, and they write it down on the job card, and tell me to bring the bike back in a fortnight. Righto. Just under two weeks later I turn up to drop the bike off. Wait, we don’t seem to have any record of your booking. Ah finally we find the job card, but we don’t seem to have actually scheduled your bike in. The schedule’s pretty well chocka, but it looks like we can squeeze it across a few slots. Well that’s fine, as long as I get it back before the weekend. Of course sir, we’ll call you on Thursday to confirm it.

There was quite a bit of work to be done, so I was expecting a confirmation call if it was going to be an expensive job. No phone call on Thursday, so on Friday I rung them up to confirm it was ready. Yes, we tried contacting you, and left messages. Er, no, no you didn’t, as I don’t have any missed calls or voicemail messages. Well, the bike is ready anyway.

So I turn up early on Saturday morning, planning on picking up the bike early, so I could go out for a club ride in the afternoon. Wait a second, my bike looks exactly the same…they hadn’t even started the job. No note, nothing. Just hadn’t done it, even though it was clearly marked as being on the day schedule. WTF?

Not happy. Not happy at all. Especially since there’s a reasonable chance that they’ll tell me it’s going to cost more than $500, and I’ll be better off getting a new bike anyway…

Five years ago today, I turned 25. I admit, I felt a bit down that day, as I felt that life was slipping me by, and that at 25, I hadn’t really done much. I was single, only in my second professional job, had only lived in two cities, and had only visited one other country – and only Australia at that. I thought that by that stage in my life I should have seen and done more.

Fast forward five years. Still single, and living back in Auckland again. But I’ve lived in three different countries now, and I’ve visited over 30 countries – and more than 20 of them under my own steam. I lived in England and Scotland, I travelled around Europe, I travelled independently around the Middle East, including less-visited countries such as Libya and Syria. I’ve seen rock art in the Sahara, I’ve been to the great bazaars of the Middle East, I’ve walked “that street they call straight” in Damascus, I’ve been to the scenes of major WWII battles for NZ soldiers – Crete and El Alamein.

The last trip was of course the most challenging, riding a bike across the Eurasian and Australian continents. All worth it, to see the old Silk Roads, and to challenge myself in a completely different way. I’ve seen parts of the world that not many tourists ever see, and a different side to countries to that normally experienced by visitors. I’ve seen severe poverty, and I’ve seen extreme wealth – often in the same country. I also pushed myself further than perhaps I knew I could go.

I’ve met many people along the way, and, I hope, made a few friends. Things weren’t always easy, but if I looked around, there were people to help and support me, and I thank all of them.

So I’m happy with what’s happened in the last few years. Does this mean I’ve done everything I want to? No, of course not. But that’s what the next 60 years is for, insh’allah. I’m currently pondering my next major move – trans-America by bike is very appealing, but I like the look of Te Araroa – an off-road walk the length of New Zealand. Not quite complete yet, but getting there. Perhaps a different challenge to the bike. It can wait for a while though.

I went to get a physical check-up today, as required for doing a dive course. The quack seemed to think I’m pretty healthy, no problems there. I blew into the asthma tester, and it went off the scale “Don’t think we’ll bother doing that one again.” I seem to be a couple of kilos heavier than I was when I got off the bike – probably a good thing there, now I’m closer to a healthy weight. Been back at the gym too, the legs are fine, but the arms are so weak!

This is a roundup of some of the most common questions that people ask me – no particular order, and many of them have probably been answered elsewhere in my blog. I’ll put in what I can think of now, and add to it later.

• Why? It was a good way to see the world, to travel at my own pace, at a relatively low cost. It was a great way to experience people and places, seeing more than just the Lonely Planet-approved tourist sites.
• Are you mad? I don’t think so. But then perhaps I’m not the best judge of that.
• But wasn’t it hard? The body is an amazing thing, and it can adapt. At first it was tough, riding 100km was a very long day, and I’d sleep for 10 hours minimum, and eat a huge amount. But later on, 100km was just a normal sort of day, and I didn’t feel tired after doing it. I could ride for 100km, then just eat and sleep more or less normally.
• Or had your perception of normality shifted? Highly likely.
• Surely it was hard sometimes though? Yes, at times it was tough, struggling into a headwind, through thick traffic on rough roads, in 40°+, with water supplies looking a very long way away. But that’s only one part of it. The good times outweighed the bad by a long way.
• Is it easy to get back into normal life? Ask yourself. It takes a while to get back into the swing of things. Life on the bike is so simple, the “real world” is more complicated.
• Where did you sleep? Anywhere and everywhere. Hotels, backpackers, camping, sometimes in a tent, sometimes just under the stars. Under bridges, in ditches, abandoned buildings, forests, all sorts. Sometimes I’d go to a restaurant, eat dinner, then sleep on the table afterwards.
• How did you cross the water? For some reason this is one that many, many people want to know. I got a ferry from Dover to Calais, a ferry across the Bosphorus in Istanbul, and then it was overland all the way to Singapore. I then caught a plane to Darwin, and another plane from Melbourne to Auckland.
• How did you pay for it/How much did it cost? I haven’t worked out exactly how much it cost, but it wasn’t that much – probably a fair bit less than you spent on your last car (South Africans excluded). I worked as a contractor in the UK for a little while before leaving, and that was fairly lucrative. But it is a cheap way to live, especially in Asia.
• Wasn’t it dangerous/where were the most dangerous places? Central Asia was probably the roughest area, and it wasn’t just me – many others I met had problems there. But overall, no, I never really felt it was dangerous. Perhaps just a slightly elevated risk compared to living a domestic life and dying of boredom I suppose
• How far would you go in a day? It varied between 20km and 269km. But I would use 100km as my planning target, and it roughly worked out at that. Roughly 100km/day, 500km/week. It would depend on what was around – some days you might do 80km and find a nice place, other days you might need to do 140km to find a nice place.
• Are you going to write a book?/You should write a book. Hmmm. I’ll think about it. But probably not.
• How did you handle all that time on your own? Wasn’t it hard being by yourself for so long? Well, at times that can be difficult to deal with. You miss your family, friends, ex-girlfriends…but I am lucky in that I am comfortable with my own company. I had thought maybe I was a loner, but someone else pointed out that I enjoy being with other people, I just don’t feel I always have to be with them.