Escaping the Bubble

27/07/2013

I woke up this morning still shrouded in the haze of last night's Club Vass BBQ and rolled over to enjoy the discovery that I still had ten minutes before my alarm was to go off. Half an hour later the need for a pee saved me from pressing snooze again and just as well as it would have resulted in a morning frenzy which I was not in the state to achieve.

As most travellers, I am sure will attest to, when living out of a backpack you become somewhat of a master of packing and while I am well on my way to achieving this state, I am not quite there yet as this morning would prove. An hour after getting up I was sticky with an alcoholic sweat and had only just finished packing my backpack, I still had my camera bag to sort and had to assess the items I was leaving behind. The idea of breakfast was forgotten. One last glance around the room and a made for the ferry terminal, picking up my pace as I passed the proprietor of the house I was staying in out of fear he would go up to the room and come running after me with all the possessions and food I had left in the room.

I made it to the ferry terminal with plenty of time to spare, annoyed that I hadn't timed it better and had some breakfast. When the ferry arrived I looked at the number of cars wanting to board pondered how they were all going to fit. Some time later I woke up in Kefalonia with people shuffling past me to get off the ferry none the wiser as to how they managed to fit all the cars on board. The plan was to get the bus to the airport, though everyone I had spoken to who had taken it failed to mention that there is only one bus a day and it leaves at 8:30am, it was now 13:00. I sat down with a frappé to contemplate my next steps. The frappé man seemed to take a shining to me, maybe it was the remnants of the guy-liner from the night before, so once I had decided that the only option was to walk and hitch my way to the airport I got him to fill my water bottle and set off up the hill.

The Italians stopped to let me take in the view.

About 1.5km up the hill I was drenched and had almost finished all my water, not to mention the kink in my back from lugging my bags uphill. It was time to try my hand at hitching, not something I have done much of in my time and after the first 20 or so cars I decided that karma would not be on my side as I certainly have not picked up enough hikers in my life. Finally an Italian family stopped and although they could barely fit my luggage and me into their tiny rental they were happy to cart me on to the next main town and even bought me an ice-cream along the way. After bidding them farewell I started to regret my decision to get out at a cross roads instead of at the next town. Plenty of cars passing through but all in the opposite direction to the airport. Finally an empty taxi pulled up, I explained to him that I was trying to get to the airport but had no money to pay for a taxi. He said not to worry he will take me on to the town he was heading to for a pick-up. He dropped me on top of a pass and said it was about 30min walk to the next to town or 2hrs to the airport, I thanked him and stuck out my thumb again. It was 3pm and my flight was at 8pm so I figured the worst case would be walking the town and catching a taxi from there. The worst case didn't happen, again another taxi came past and after the same conversation as before I found myself enjoying the air-conditioning of his Mercedes and heading in the direction of the airport.

Thumb out. 

I tried to give him the 5 euros in my pocket when he dropped me at the terminal but he refused and with a smile wished me luck on the rest of my travels. Now sitting waiting for my flight, I can't help but let my mind wander back to the words of an earlier post, "Just ask."

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The Vassiliki Bubble

27/07/2013

Anyone who has been following my blog for awhile will notice that it has been some time since I made any updates, leaving a couple of months to catch up on. The reason for this gap is that I have found myself in a bubble for the past 7 weeks, though after managing to make an escape I am now using the flight to London to add some colour to those months.

The Fish House

First though let me explain the bubble. When I decided to pack up and start travelling, it wasn't quite without a plan. There was a rough outline which formed around two particular experiences, the first of those was to train as a windsurfing instructor with the faint idea that I might decide it becomes my next career path. That is how I ended up in Vassiliki, Greece on a Flying Fish Course. Taking a rather round about route, I arrived in Vass at the beginning of June to settle in to the fish house. The intention was to stay for 5 weeks, a week of play and the 4 week course; I relished the opportunity to unpack for the first time since April. In my first days there was something I could not put my finger on, I still can't, but I have come to call it the Vassiliki bubble. It is a unique place where everyone who finds themselves under its breeze comes to love and it is not hard to see why, it is all about lifestyle. The thing is that while you are in Vass nothing of the outside world seems to get in, there never seems to be time to contact people at home, news is something that happens in places that exist in the real world and the conversations only ever seem to revolve around what size sail or board you are using or who hooked up with who the night before.

Idyllic beaches, 

Manic mountain biking and

Epic windsurfing, it is not hard to see why people don't want to leave. 

I attribute this bubble to the fact that every week in Vass is the same, people's routines may vary slightly, generally based on how well they can handle the limited hours of sleep, but mine looked something like:

• Sunday - change over day with a slow empty Club Vass, generally a light wind morning session followed by a high wind afternoon session and an attempt at an early night which normally resulted in processing photos till too late an hour. (Most people would be out on the swill on Sunday more than likely at Zeus bar.)
• Monday - Light wind morning session then high wind afternoon.
• Tuesday - Morning cycle followed by either a SUP or light wind session then high wind afternoon. Live music at Wildwind in evening and Zeus bar until the wee hours.
• Wednesday - hangover permitting (almost never) morning cycle followed by light wind session then high wind afternoon.
• Thursday - Morning cycle followed by either a SUP or light wind session then high wind afternoon. (Most others head off to cocktails at Wildwind, which inevitably ends up at Zeus bar, I never made it once).
• Friday - Morning cycle followed by either a SUP or light wind session then high wind afternoon. Evening id time for Club Vass BBQ which goes on to the early hours of the morning.
• Saturday - Day off for most which means recovery, I rarely made it out of bed before lunch, after which I'd stroll down to the beach for a photo session and then energy permitting have a high wind session myself. (A hardy few can always be found at Zeus Bar in the evening)

The infamous Zeus Bar

The only time this routine was broken was for the assessment week where I played it safe and didn't involve myself in evening shenanigans and the morning sessions were replaced with presentations both given and received. Before I knew it 5 weeks were up and I had qualified as a start windsurfing instructor but I had not given any thought as what to do next and as such decided to stay for another two weeks and fell back to the routine.

Light wind mornings. 

Now a month and a half on my body is feeling the toll of too many forward loop attempts and my mind is struggling to recollect the months gone by. It seems like an age has passed since I was finishing off my Africa travels by visiting family and friends in South Africa. The round about route to Greece starting with a 30hr train journey and ending with a 170 euro taxi ride contrasting my most recent travel experience of hitch-hiker friendly taxis. It is increasingly difficult to focus on the past when the second experience is looming closer and is to be coupled with a tenuous route to America, so as I weed out the memories I'll leave you pondering what the next experience might be and throw out a question. Does anyone know of a couch in Bermuda that I might sleep on next week?

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Family Time

16/05/2013

It was a relief to see the familiar faces of my aunt and uncle searching for me at Cape Town bus terminal after another 20 hour bus journey. I had left Windhoek the night before after 6 days driving myself around Namibia and was looking forward to some down time catching up and cleaning up. After setting a wash on (I was so excited about having clean clothes that I unpacked my bag directly into the washing machine) and a shave (I had to go and buy a razor as neglected to bring one on my travels), my uncle and I went to pick up my sister, Kathy, who was arriving back from 6 months in New Zealand. General tiredness and jet-lag soon ate into our conversations and I sank into the comfort of a well known bed in a welcoming home.

Chapman's Peak Cycle - Image courtesy of Hayley Harpur

The relaxing lasted all of one night, Hayley, my other sister arrived the following day with plans for a short cycle. I reluctantly agreed so long as they would take it easy on me and we set off to meet a friend in Sea Point. Upon reaching Sea Point I thought it wasn't such a bad cycle and was pleased with myself for keeping pace. My face dropped and my legs turned to jelly when as told me that the cycle had not started and we were actually heading up Chapman's Peak. Over half an Argus (70km) later and I was truly broken, both physically and mentally at how fresh they all still looked, but that just made the cold beer in hand and stunning sunset even more enjoyable.

Sunset over Sea Point. 

Some point that evening amidst catching up and making new acquaintances it was agreed that we would climb Table Mountain the following day. With an early start I was grateful they did not make me cycle to the start of the trail. The route, Indian Vensters, which was chosen by Kathy would turn out to be a good challenge with plenty of scrambling but that didn't stop her pushing us to make it to the top well within the 2.5hrs suggested hike time. After lunch on the table it was more of a jog down than a Sunday afternoon stroll, with Hayley and her trail running buddies taking the lead. By the time we got to the bottom I was more than ready for sun-downers and decided to forgo the cycle back to my aunt and uncle's in favour of a lift to the waterfront followed by beers lit by the long rays of the evening sun.

Hiking Table Mountain - Image courtesy of Hayley Harpur

Sun-downers with Hayley at the V&A Waterfront

To end off an energetic weekend I spent the night at Hayley's house at the Strand, the whole time thinking to myself, "This is like those places we always used to see at the beach as kids and wonder what type of people lived in them." The morning greeted us with a misty ocean which demanded wetsuits for the morning SUP session we had planned. It was fantastic to get out on the water even if it wasn't on a windsurfer, it brought back the enjoyment and enhanced the excitement of the Greece trip to come. The session ended with me making a 500m swim back to the shore after loosing my paddle and board when under estimating the size of a wave and catching it side on. Both washed up, saving me the embarrassment of appearing through the mist empty handed. As it was Hayley managed to grab this rather moody shot as I wandered up the beach to find her and the instructor searching for me.


The rest of the South Africa stay, aside for a trip up the west coast, followed a similar pattern and included regular tennis at Pinelands Club and one very early morning bike ride followed by coffee at a quirky coffee shop hidden down an alley only known to the local cycling crew. Speaking of quirky coffee shops, it seems to me that this is a side of Cape Town I never fully appreciated or maybe it is a side that I have only just begin to experience in earnest. Either way there was something different about this trip back to SA, it was the first time that I found myself thinking, "Something has changed, this is actually and amazing place, maybe one day I can see myself back here on a more permanent basis."

Early morning cycle with Kathy

Well deserved hub cap breakfast at the cycle cafe. 

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West Coast Scenic

23/05/2013

Having lived in South Africa for 20 odd years and during subsequent trips back I have covered a fair amount of the beautiful country, from Sodwana Bay on the north east coast to Graaf Reinet in the interior, though I had never been further up the west coast than Cape Town. So when my mom asked what I wanted to do when I visited this time I jumped at the opportunity to let her organise a road trip up this spectacular piece of the country.

One of the many passes through the Cederberg.

It being May there would be no real chance of windsurfing and thus I am yet to surf any of the spots around the cape, so we started the trip by heading slightly inland, to the Cederberg and Citrusdal. We meet up with family at the Baths which are natural hotsprings once used by bushmen to aid healing and spirituality. After a few days of rejuvenating in the warm waters it was time to bid farewell to some family members and head to the coast with my parents and my sister.

Old colonial building at the Baths

Sister enjoying the view from one of the many hikes.

Moonrise over the Cederberg

Relaxing in one of the smaller baths.

From Citrusdal we spent our first night in the little port of Lamberts Bay. The weather was cold and moody, which for the rest of the family brought comments of, "I don't see the attraction of this place." For me as, I strolled along the shoreline in the heavy evening air, I saw the attraction, the wild, ruggedness of this coastline with sunsets over the ocean makes it a photographer's dream.

An overcast sunset at Lamberts Bay

Lamberts Bay

Someday we'll all go back to the oceans.

We took the coastal road from Lamberts Bay to a little settlement called Paternoster which is well know for its lobster and white fishing houses. Despite the cold weather, this time everyone was in agreement that they could see why this is often claimed to be one of the most beautiful places on the west coast.

White houses at Paternoster

An evening fish. 

Purple haze. 

Some things are made to share.

The route back to Cape Town took us via Langebaan, a well known windsurfing spot and often used testing ground for some of the industry manufacturers. We stopped there for lunch and although there wasn't a windsurfer in sight I caught myself adding a point to my bucket list: road trip Southern Africa with windsurfers on the roof of a camper-van.

Langebaan Lagoon

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Nomadic in Namibia - Lüderitz

14/05/2013

Sometimes one gets lucky with photography. As I wounds through the pass to the coast, I knew that it was one of those times, the ghostly shells of the Kolmanskop houses stood like guardians scanning the horizon, behind them a sky burnt of oranges and pinks as wispy flames of cloud licked the tops of the dunes. I only had the chance for a couple of shots before the fog rolled in and I descended the pass into the now eerie town of Lüderitz.

The Kolmanskop guardians

Road down to Lüderitz

A foggy night.

By the time I found a place to spend the night, the little camp-site on shark island, the sea fog had all but engulfed the town as if to compliment the ghost town I had just passed by. I don't see myself as a superstitious or even spiritual person, but there was something haunting about the place which conjured up thoughts of the countless souls lost at sea. Maybe it was one of those souls that begged me to stay, maybe it was that I had travelled 3000km in 6 days mostly on dust roads either way I made the decision to spend a couple of nights there and take it easy the following day.

The morning greeted me with an even thicker fog which weighed heavy in the air as I clambered over the rocks seeking a good angle to capture the mood. Finally the oyster catchers started about their daily routine which prompted me to a brief workout come yoga session on the rocks. The landscape started to reveal itself in time for breakfast and by the time I had washed up the sun was out and inviting me to explore the town.

A ghostly awakening.

Yoga rocks.

Oyster catchers up for breakfast

It should be noted that Lüderitz is not a big town so by midday I had explored the corners and cracks which left me wanting. I had seen a picture of a shipwreck in the information center and decided it would make a good photo so I set off in search of it, taking my home down roads which were obviously meant for vehicles of a more sturdy nature. Finally I came across a shipwreck, not the one I had seen in the brochure, rather what seemed like a small fishing boat on a deserted beach. From there the afternoon took me down ever more unsuitable roads. After visiting a fjord, a lighthouse and experiencing a cold swim in the Atlantic I landed up at a little camp-site called Dias Point. It is an enchanting place run by an old lady and her daughter in-law who happened to be a budding photographer and I spent a few sun downers advising her on lenses. Her excitement at being able to try my 10-20mm made the experience ever more worth it. 

The colourful town of Lüderitz

My shipwreck

Namibia's fjord

A dip in the Atlantic

Sun-downers at Diaz Point

I left Lüderitz the following morning after sharing breakfast with one of the Shark Island wardens while he convinced me of the merits of him getting his lorry licence. After a couple of hours photography stop in Kolmanskop I moved on to Mariental.

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Nomadic in Namibia - Kolmanskop

15/05/2013

Kolmanskop was once a thriving mining town a short way from Lüderitz now abandoned to the ravishes of wind and sand, it was one of the main reasons I wanted to travel to Namibia. I had seen it in plenty a picture and even in one of Brian Cox's wonders of the universe and I was itching to see if I could replicate the pictures I had seen. Here are a few of my attempts.

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