Goodbye 2013

A year that started in the cold, dark snow of a Swedish winter and ended in the warm, gentle sun of Mexican one. Over 12 countries visited and life changing decisions made, 2013 has truly been one to remember. Thank you to everyone of those who I was fortunate to interact with along the way, most importantly those who supported me in following my passions and welcomed me into their homes. 

Some of the countries along the way.  

I am really excited to see what take shape in 2014, being based in Punta San Carlos and experiencing a lifestyle many only dream of.  To learning new skills and improving old ones. 

Adiós 2013

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The Meaning of Life

As I wallow in the zesty afterglow of a solid day on the water, my thoughts trail back to a session I had a few weeks ago. It was the first time I had gone out windsurfing since getting back from a trip to the States, there weren't many waves but the wind was enough to make it fun. I had made a few good gybes and had thrown in some duck gybes to test myself, when it suddenly occurred to me, this is the meaning of life. Improvement.

The concept has been rattling around in my head since and the more I think about it, the more I have to conclude that it is that age old question cracked. One first has to consider what are we really asking when we ask, "What is the meaning of life?" I am going to make the assumption that what we are actually asking is, "What is the purpose of life?" Or more specifically, "What is my reason for being?". When phrased like that the answer makes more sense, the aim of our lives, all life is to improve.

Tony during the session that left the glow.

Think about it. You buy a bigger house, a faster car; you are improving your belongings (by traditional standards). You study, you practice sport; so you can improve your knowledge or skill level in your field. You go to the gym, go on diet; you are improving your body, most likely so that you can improve your chances of finding a better mate and therefore result in offspring that have better genes. I guess this isn't a new idea, evolutionists have essentially been saying the same thing for awhile now, evolution is the result of mutation the improves a beings chances of survival and thus its chances of passing on its genes.

This has lead me to conclude that we are happiest when we can see ourselves improving in some area. Ever noticed how self help books are always based around an improved you? The problem here lies in the fact that we are constantly measuring ourselves on a daily or even hourly basis such that the improvements are so minute that we do not notice them. It is like watching a plant grow, if you actually look at it every hour or day, you won't notice that it is getting bigger but if you don't look at it for a week and then check it, you will likely notice a significant difference. The same is true for measuring our improvement, when we take a break from something, our reference to how good we were at it remains the same so when we get back to it we notice our improvement more against that previous reference.

For me this has been the case since getting back on the water after a couple weeks away, not only have I noticed an improvement in my windsurfing but also SUP and surfing which has meant enjoying myself even more and general happiness. So if you are getting frustrated with yourself or down on your purpose in life, take a break, try something new - it is easy to see improvement from nothing to something, more difficult from something to something. When you get back to what ever it was that you were focusing on you will notice the improvement and thus on top of the improvement noticed trying something new you will feel a sense of purpose and renewed enjoyment manifesting itself as all round happiness.

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Passing Through

03/08/2013

I didn't expect to be in London again but my escape from the bubble and uninformed decision on getting to America via Bermuda saw me stopping there for a week before heading west. Expected or not, I think it is inevitable that I keep returning, London just has that draw and having spent seven years there, a part of me will always want to return.

Walking along the canal

The week was consumed in good company with both old and new friends. It started in relaxing fashion in the burbs outside the M25 where I spent time wandering along the waterways stopping off at quintessential English pubs for pints and nibbles. Courtney, the friend I was staying with even managed to get me down to a driving range, something I had not done for at least 10 years. She was surprised that I could hit a golf ball and I was surprised that I actually enjoyed it, then the beer did help. Having abused Courtney's hospitality for long enough and in the possession of clean clothes I moved into my old flat in Richmond where I felt like I had never left and I must admit it does kind of feel like I should still be there, I guess 4 years there and I have a bit of an attachment to it.

Think I need some work on my swing?

Richmond Bridge

On Tuesday I was fortunate enough to catch a gig by Martyr Electric, a band I have been following for a number of years from when it was just Jamie Martyr and her keyboard. This was the first time I had seen her with the band and I must say it adds a new dynamic, though it is still her haunting voice and taunting lyrics which hypnotised her audience as they enjoyed an evening under her spell.

The guy who lead me into the crypt

Throughout London was at her summery best and I found myself wandering the streets with little cause between lunch dates and sun-downers with my Greek barefoot ways creeping in and somehow becoming a photography project which I now seem to be continuing around the world. The wandering lead me down into a crypt in saint martins fields where I discovered an art project determined to make art affordable to the public by having the public participate. The Lake Sisters sketched me my very own piece to take around the world with me, they wanted to add a pin to a map as to where it would travel too, I told them that would be impossible so they settled for a Bermuda pin then I stole a picture to add to my own project.

Barefoot London photo project. 

Can't beat a summer pint

The highlight of my stay was an evening on the Tamesis Dock, one of my favourite spots in London which introduced to me in love and has created and captured countless memories of all varieties. The evening faded too quickly along with the heat of the sun so we went to find heat of a different kind at Hot Stuff, which used to be a London gem. A tiny one room Indian restaurant with more tables outside than inside and no menu to speak of, hidden in the back streets of Vauxhall. Unfortunately it seems as if its popularity will be its demise as it has now grown into a fully fledged restaurant with plush seating in a new space more than double the size of the original all that remains from the old is the bring your own booze policy. The night was completed by a core contingent at an old pub with some fine Scotch. I must thank all those who made it a fabulous evening.

View from The Tamesis Dock

Andy Lewis

 The week culminated in typical London fashion with a gig by Andy Lewis, who I had met out in Vassiliki, at the Hippodrome Casino in Leicester Square. Andy was on at 8pm and gave us a soulful set of his own work and interpretations of more familiar songs. After Andy left the stage Craig and I decided to stay seated and enjoy our whiskey, to our surprise we were presented with the Boom Bang Circus Extravaganza, which illuminated the reason for us not paying for our front row table when the compère started systematically taking the mick out of each unsuspecting audience member. To avoid the embarrassment of a bearded man in a blue dress rubbing a feather boa around our necks we made haste and started our own tour of the hidden bars around Covent Garden only to find ourselves back at the casino at some ungodly hour which more than likely contributed to the first of my Bermuda experiences.

Leaving London this time felt more final than the last times, the goodbyes were longer and the destinations more distant. I am uncertain as to when I will be back and with the friends that remain there all getting on with their lives, some moving afar as well, I wonder what and who will be there if I decide to return?

The morning after the night before

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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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Victoria Falls

Tuesday - 07/05/2013

Victoria Falls Station

From the moment we stepped through the gates at Shoestring backpackers we knew we were more likely to be getting high over a few beers at the bar than having high tea looking over the falls. It would do though, we just needed a place to lay our belongings so that we could set off to explore the smoke that thunders. We took the morning easy; I enjoyed a swim in the backpackers pool it seemed I was to only one staying there foolish enough to risk the murky water, while Will and Debora relished the first warm shower they had had in months. After lunch we took the short walk down to the falls.

The Falls has its own rain forest climate. 

Entrance to the falls was $30 for foreigners but if you could provide a South African passport you could pay $20, I had left mine at the backpackers and my attempts at proving my South African nationality with my UK drivers license were in vein. It was a $30 well spent, the falls were magnificent. Since it was the end of rainy season they were in full flow and even walking down the path to the entrance gate, about 1km away we were cooled by the fine mist they produce. At the park gate we were greeted by a barrage of vendors trying to rent out ponchos and warning us of how wet would get if we didn't take them, we opted out as we naively thought that our rain macs would suffice.


We spent a couple of hours wandering the damp paths which crawled through the engulfing rain forest, stopping at each view point to steal views from every angle. The further along we got the thicker and heavier the mist became until we reached one point where standing in the mist was more akin to standing in a torrential downpour. Soaked through Debora and Will trudged back to our home for the night whilst I hung around the falls to see what the magic hour held in way of photo opportunities. Finally the damp got to me too and used the last of the sun's warmth dry out a little as I strolled the path back to Shoestring.

Will getting soaked.

Will and Debora post soaking. 

After the non stop drinking week in London and then the liver destroying experience in Harare I had promised myself that I was not going to drink until I reached South Africa. It was a feeble promise and the influence of traveling in warm climes and staying at a backpackers with and inviting bar overwhelmed it easily. Will and I passed the evening effortlessly. Perhaps it was our common interest in windsurfing that provided the connection that allowed us seclude ourselves in conversation near the relative calm of a lonely fire while the younger patrons of the establishment got giddy on life fueled by travel and cold beer.

The Majestic Falls

Does this mean there are two pots of gold? 

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Baja Photos

For my recent entry to the mydestionations travel competition I put together the following video from some pictures I had taken while at Solosports in Baja.



A few people who have voted have asked if they can get hold of the hi res versions of the pictures. So here they are.  All I ask is that if you like them you go over to http://www.mydestination.com/users/luckybeanz/bbb#tab and vote for my entry so that I can capture more.

Go to flickr to download hi res versions.

Empty Beaches

Perfect Conditions

Inspirational Locals

Inspirational Locals

Inspirational Locals

Morning Surf Sessions

Morning Surf Sessions

Rustic Living

Rustic Living

Stunning Sunsets

Stunning Sunsets

Enjoying a Fog At The End of The Day

Don't forget to vote.

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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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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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