Just Ask

With the entries for mydestination now closed, I doubt my 84 votes will get me anywhere when the finalists are announced on the 15th April.  Regardless of the outcome though, I know at least some good came of this experience.

Shortly before submitting my entry, I stumbled upon the following video:



Now being someone who has never liked asking for things, probably due to the fact that I don't want to feel in debt to anyone, this video really made me think.

So during the competition, I decided to try something different, I decided to "Just ask" and sent messages to a bunch of the windsurfing pages I subscribe to on Facebook.  The result was having my entry posted on Windsurfing Magazine, SoloSport, Queen Mary Windsurfing Club and Contentseven.

I guess the real reason we don't ask for things is the fear of rejection. When ultimately we should be thinking, the worst case is that the answer is no, and if the answer is no? You are no worse off than if you had not asked in the first place.  It is an everything to gain, nothing to lose situation. 

Tweet

Magic Powder

I caught his eye as I saw the glint in my own reflected between the specks poking the worn mirror. As he thumbed through my hair, trying to make sense of what to do with it, his eyes seemed to hint at a slight pride of the position he was in. Either that or of disdain for the position we had put him in.

He set the rusted, too rusted to be of much use, scissors down and left me to contemplate my
reflection. His shaky hands now focused on an ingenious contraption connected to what looked
like a cauldron balanced on the faint glow of hot embers. I'd come to recognise these contraptions as tea grinders creating the sensual mix of flavours from spices that make up a true Indian chai.

He shuffled back and distributed the chai to his visitors in a meticulous fashion, making certain that he saved one which he placed in front of me and then returned to contemplating my hair.

The others sat on lopsided wooden benches behind me. My travel companions, the first and second Idiots, interacting with the local crowd attracted by the presence of unexpected visitors. Another team who had followed us to find a bed for the night now divided their attention between the hazy action movie playing in the corner and the strange brown powder the Idiots were discussing with the locals. An Idiots pointed the powder wielding kid in my direction. I gave the kid my hand. He tilted the container to sprinkle the intriguing substance into my palm. The barber sternly stopped him. Disappointed the kid turned to find another victim.

Moments later an eruption of laughter did little to muffle the sound of someone sneezing with such force and consistency that one would be forgiven for thinking it was a steam train passing by. My comrades now all stood with their palms facing up, waiting to receive their dose of the magic brown powder. Taking their lead from the first victim, who was still stealing sneezes between fits of laughter, they too sniffed the powder up like they were in a hollywood movie. It took a couple minutes to kick in, but once it did, I sunk into my chair in the certainty that the crowd would soon become an angry mob of towns folk annoyed at having the peaceful night air shattered by snorts of laughter. Itching to experience it myself, I thanked the barber and paid his meager fee before joining the group to take my hit. The tears streamed down my cheeks and I clutched my stomach in agonising enjoyment as I was united with my team in
laughter. The name the 3 Idiots seeming more appropriate than ever.

The following morning as we left the dusty streets of Tharad, fitter for the excellent core workout we had received outside the barber shop, I stole a glance in the rickshaw's rear view mirror and thought to myself.
- It will grow back.

This is part of my entry to the http://www.mydestination.com/ travel competition. If you liked it and want to see me then go vote for me by clicking the badge below.  Or even if you don't click it  and vote just to be kind. 

Tweet

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

Tweet