And this is why it is a mess...

Truly a poet for our times, find more at http://www.ted.com/speakers/rives.html

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Something Special

It is commonly cited that it was environmental pressures that pushed our forefathers to up sticks and venture out of Africa...

I like to think it was a deep-seated desire for exploration and adventure. After the advent of agriculture, boredom surely got to hold them and they could not explain the unsettled feeling that drove them to walk further and further from their comforts.  

Boredom is the opposite of happiness and these guys certainly know that we are at our happiest when seeking adventure. 

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Choosing a bag

When I left South Africa almost a decade ago for Dubai I travelled with one suitcase and a hockey stick bag.  At 21 I did not have many belongings and those that did not fit could be left at my parents' house.

A year later I moved to London. I shipped a 45kg box ahead of me and somehow I still travelled with a large suitcase, a backpack and the hockey stick bag. 

Upon leaving London for Stockholm 3 months ago I did some shedding. The charity shop across the road from my flat thought Christmas had come early. At least 5 trips, countless boxes and bags later I thought I had cut the clutter.  I moved to Stockholm with a 125ltr suitcase, 2x 75ltr duffel bags, a snowboard bag, a triple tennis racket bag, my Dakine Mission Photo and my trusty travelzone expander.

I am leaving Stockholm in two months to travel destinations unknown for an undefined period.  I am going to have to be ruthless with my culling, but given the right bag I have no doubt that I can do it.  The question is, what is the right bag? There are so many choices:

What size? I am thinking around 75-80ltrs.
What style?  A backpack? Even then there are so many options.
What price? Is a £300 backpack really that much better than a £120 one?
To wheel or not? I’m thinking that is just extra weight.  
How do you ensure it is secure? Lockable zips?  It will contain all my belongs after all. 

Keeping in mind I will be taking my Dakine Mission Photo with me, which will serve as cabin luggage and daypack. I ask all those out there who have embarked on similar journeys and packed their lives into a single bag, what would you suggest?

Dakine Mission Photo will act as cabin luggage and daypack.

So far I have seen two options that may fit the bill. 

Caribee Grand Air 80 Travel Pack

Deuter Traveller 80+10 Litre Rucksack

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The second event

Friday 28th of December 2012 
10:30am:  I am sitting in my office in Stockholm. It is normally bustling with 40 plus staff members but today? I am alone.  The emptiness of the tall ceilings seems to reflect the turmoil that is brewing inside me, while last night’s discussion and its abrupt ending only serves to feed the unsettled itch.  I have been sitting here for a couple hours and have achieved exactly nothing, it has been like this all week, but today it is worse. I need to escape.

11:30am: Done. Hands still shaking from the rush, clammy as I stick my credit card back in my wallet and re-read the email I just sent to my boss:

“Hej,

I have a small personal issue that I need to take care of. Though it requires me to be away for a bit, returning to work on Friday the 11th.

The only urgent meeting I shall miss is kicking off the eager/lazy project on Tues, but Jonas can handle that for me.

Sorry for the inconvenience. I will have my laptop on me so can be reached via email for any emergencies.

Regards,
“

Saturday 29th of December 2012 
06:30am (CET): Delta airlines ticketing lady at Arlanda airport, “No, your card has not been charged, we were unable to issued the ticket yesterday as we require 24 hours notice for online bookings. I can issue the ticket now if you like?”

If I were at all superstitious or maybe the least bit sensible I would have told her not to worry and turned around to go home and back to bed.  I am not. With 50 minutes to take off, I find myself handing over my credit card details to book a trans-Atlantic flight for the second time in as many days.  She apologies for not being able to book a vegetarian meal for the first leg of the flight, but says I should speak to the ground staff in Paris to see if they can arrange something for me.

10:30pm (MST):  After 26 hours of travel I am sitting on the doorstep of an empty house in the idle suburbs of Phoenix, Arizona.  It is surprisingly chilly and I am glad for having travelled from the -14 °C of Stockholm.  Despite having been awake for over 30 hours, the cool night air, incessant yapping of dogs alarmed by a stranger at their doorstep and the million thoughts vying for attention in my head are keeping me awake.  The thought that dominates presents itself, “You stupid fool, she has no reason to even let you through the door let alone listen to what you have to say. Where do you intend on sleeping tonight?”

Monday 14th January 2013
10:00am (CET):  Back in Stockholm, the calm provided by the escape to Arizona beginning to fade but the clarity of thoughts remains. Or maybe the clarity has only broken through as the haze from a weekend in LA finally dissipates.  Either way I know the conversation I am having is the right one:

Boss: What did you want to talk to me about?
Me: Well, and I am sorry for starting your week off on a difficult note, but I want to hand in my resignation.
Boss: Oh, I did not expect that. Are you going somewhere else, don’t you like Stockholm?
Me: No. I really like Stockholm, but I’m burnt out, I just can’t do this anymore.
Boss: I understand, are you going to stay in Stockholm?  What is your plan?
Me: No, it is too expensive to be unemployed in Stockholm. I don’t have a plan; I don’t know what I want to do. I just know it is not this.  Maybe I will go back to South Africa for a bit?


That was event two.   Okay so it was a series of events but they culminated in where we are today.  As of the end of April I shall be a vagabond, my life condensed to a backpack; my dreams and desires opened wide and allowed to explore what it means to be free, with no given cause.

I have recently enjoyed the scribbling and pictures of other friends who have set themselves on similar adventures.  Since I have not had the foresight to define an end goal, destination or date to this chapter of my life; I have no doubt that the experiences and interactions with others will influence my direction before I set off and along the way.  In fact that that is a requirement of this chapter and one I urge you to get involved in.  How you ask?  Well let us start by choosing my shell.

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A reason

"Most big questions we feel compelled to face - handed down through centuries of overthinking and mis-translation - use terms so undefined as to make attempting to answer them a complete waste of time. This isn't depressing. It's liberating." - Tim Ferriss

As I read the above passage I was transported to a moment two years ago whilst traveling through India.  I was in a taxi with a good friend and a girl we had met a couple days earlier. We had been up since dawn making our way to a local picnic spot, hidden in the hills of Kochi.  The conversation had gone through its regular paces and was poised on religion.  She, like me, had grown up with a religious background and her travels had her questioning and looking for new answers.

She was struggling with the fact that I did not believe in a god anymore and wanted to know if I didn't believe in a god, then why am I here? What is the meaning of life?

I smiled at her, a smile filled with the excitement of having just traversed India in a rickshaw, and said, "Why do you need a reason, why not just be?  It is far more liberating not having one."

I still hold that mantra, stop looking for a reason to be and just be.

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Last night's music

Unexpected nights out are always the best and Friday night was no exception, made even better by the discovery of http://funeralsuits.com/

Little did I know that while I was absorbed in the music there was a horrific scene going on behind me, one that I only narrowly escaped being consumed in.  I did managed to snap one very hazy picture of the it before breaking a glass and fighting my way through in a manner fit for Shawn of the Dead. 

For anyone who enjoyed funeral suits, you might also enjoy another Irish band http://www.myspace.com/codesofficial.

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Taken for granted.

I got home the other night to have a quick dinner of beans on toast.  Without much thought I took the can out assuming that I was just going to use the little lever on the top to open it.   Much to my surprise it did not have one.  

Searching my drawers I could not find a can opener which is when I realised how I have started to take for granted that can openers are still used.  I can't remember the last time I needed one to open a can.  

It is amazing to thing that the can was invented in 1810 and the first can opener was only invented in 1858, almost fifty years later.  That is a lot of mangled cans and cut hands. 

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