 
# Amazing Travel Experiences

**15 more stories from one world traveller hoping to provide little**

inspiration for your next travel adventure.

by

Ian Usher

(Please Note: these stories are based on personal experience only, and do not constitute any form of advice. Please make your own decisions, and take responsibility for yourself. I take no responsibility for any travel "adventures" that may result from trying any similar activities.)

All material in this book is adapted from the book  
"A Life Sold" by Ian Usher  
or from the website  
www.100goals 100weeks.com

### Amazing Travel Experiences

Ian Usher

Copyright 2012 by Ian Usher

Smashwords Edition

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# Contents

Introduction

Skiing in Dubai

The Horn Dance

Sopranos tour

Route 66

Hollywood

Juggling with fire

Working in a soup kitchen

Volcano

Surf Waikiki

Tokyo capsule hotel

Ice sculptures

Cannes Film Festival

Meeting Richard Branson

4 Ian Ushers

Aboard the "Rainbow Warrior"

A Life Sold

Submit your own travel stories for publication...?

More adventure travel books

Excerpt from "A Life Sold"

# Introduction

Hi there.

My name is Ian Usher

In June 2008 I put my life in Perth, Australia, up for sale on eBay! "What will you do after you sell your life?" was one of the commonly-asked questions in many of the interviews I did in the run-up to the auction.

My eventual answer was to create a list of all the things I had ever wanted to do, places I wanted to see, and experiences I wanted to enjoy.

Between August 2008 and July 2010 I travelled the world, with a list of 100 goals, and a self-imposed timeframe of 100 weeks in which to attempt to achieve them.

This collection of stories and events is adapted from that journey, and gives an account of some of the amazing experiences found along the way. My hope is that these tales serve in some small way to provide a little inspiration for you, if you have things that you would like to get out there and see or do.

My best single piece of advice for those looking for adventure, and in need of inspiration? Take the first step. Book your flight, order a book to research you plans, or invite a friend to join you. Whatever it takes to get you started. Because once you take that first step, it is a little easier to take the next step, whatever that may be. The third step is a little easier again, and so on. Just make a start, no matter how small.

There is much more detail on my travels and adventures, as well as a more personal insight into the joys and challenges of travelling for an extended period, in my book, available in both paperback and digital format for the Kindle and other mobile devices.

More details and links here:-

"A Life Sold – What ever happened to that guy who sold his whole life on eBay?"

There are also some other links at the end of this book, including an invite to submit your own tales of travel and adventure for potential inclusion in future similar publications, as well as details of other adventure travel books available from Wider Vision Publishing.

In return for this (hopefully!!) interesting, inspiring and informative content, I would ask one small favour. When you have finished reading I would be extremely grateful if you could take just a minute to provide a short, honest review for it at whatever location you downloaded it from.

Your support is much appreciated.

Happy travels,

Ian

# Skiing in Dubai

First goal achieved! Ski Dubai.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Well, we're off to a flying start, as the first goal has been completed successfully.

Today I caught the bus out to Mall of the Emirates, where SkiDubai is situated. What an awesome place. After meeting my friend Mark from Perth at the entrance as planned, we had a quick chat, and he was off for his ski lesson. I paid for two hours on the slopes, and was issued with jacket, trousers, boots and board, and I was straight onto the chairlift.

The first couple of runs were a bit shaky, it's been almost three years since I was last on a board (how has that happened?), but it soon started to come back.

The place is pretty big, with a four-seat chairlift, and a single drag-lift too. I had a few goes on the chairlift, but found the drag to be alot quicker, so managed to fit quite a few runs in.

I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and for a while it was possible to forget that it was over 40 degrees Centigrade outside!

Finally I reckoned my time was up, but nobody was checking tickets, so I went for "one more run". About half an hour later I had to call it a day, as I was meeting friends Jeff and Socorro at 4pm, and was now running late. I got changed very quickly, and dashed off to meet them.

A great indoor snowboarding experience - it certainly beats the old Catterick Army Garrison dry ski slope where I first started learning as a kid.

One goal down, 99 goals left to go!!

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#  The Horn Dance

The Horn Dance!

Monday, September 8, 2008

After driving about three hours north from London I arrived last night at my cousin's home. I saw them recently in the south of France, when visiting the lovely villa they had rented there for a fortnight, but the whole family hadn't been there, so wanted to call in on the way through.

"Do you have to rush off in the morning?" was one of the first things Christine asked me. Apparently today is Wakes Monday (no, I hadn't heard of it either!) and the famous Abbots Bromley Horn Dance would be taking place. (I hadn't heard of that either!)

Apparently this is a ceremony that has been performed since the year 1226. "How far away is Abbots Bromley?" I asked. How can I possibly miss the Horn Dance when it's only about 5 miles away?

There are a couple of goals on my list involving English eccentricities (and there are plenty to choose from, believe me!) I just love this crazy historical sort of stuff. It's quite fascinating.

So Eli and I drove this morning to scenic Blithfield Hall, owned by Lady Bagot. There we joined a growing crowd of assorted onlookers, many of whom looked as eccentric as the event they had come to see.

The dancers came along and danced their dance of fertility and re-birth, and were photographed by an impressively large group of photographers. Eli told me that it is a big event. She knew that it must be, as she had never seen so many police men and women in the area - there were five of them!

After the excitement of the dance we headed into Abbots Bromley itself, where the town is gearing itself up for an afternoon of dancing around the many pubs in the village. As usual, this sort of English village event always takes place in very close proximity to the local pub.

We had some lunch and headed home, but when the rest of the family came in from work we headed back to Abbots Bromley to join in with the culmination of the festivities.

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# Sopranos tour

The Sopranos Tour.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Linda lives in New Jersey, and offered to show me around, as well as help me get to Six Flags Great Adventure to ride the monster Kingda Ka rollercoaster. We emailed back and forth a few times, and I asked her about some of the locations in the TV series The Sopranos.

For those of you new to my story, I am a big fan of HBO TV series The Sopranos, ("Modern day morality tale about New Jersey mob boss Tony Soprano, as he deals with personal and professional issues in his home and business life." www.imdb.com), and have written about it in several blogs previously:

So Linda got very organised, and picked me up in downtown Manhattan, and drove us through the Lincoln Tunnel, the exit from which is the first couple of scenes of the opening credits, and out into the gritty NJ world of The Sopranos!

She had arranged a fantastic circular tour around some of the series locations. We were disappointed to find that Satriale's Pork Store had gone, nothing there now other than a sign to indicate that "The Sopranos luxury condominiums" would be coming soon.

The Skyway Diner was a wonderful lunch stop. To me, it looked like the most American thing I have ever seen! I couldn't help myself, and had to order the cheeseburger deluxe and coffee, and would have had apple pie too if I could have managed it after the huge cheeseburger!

There were a couple of other places to see, including one of the churches used in the series, a bakery where in Series 1, Chris shoots one of the staff member's toes off, but Linda had saved the best for last!

Satin Dolls was used in the series as Tony's unofficial headquarters, go-go bar Bada Bing. It really is a go-go bar, and it looks almost exactly as it does in the series! Linda suggested that we could go in if I wanted, and there was no holding me back.

The interior was dark and noisy, semi-clad girls danced on the stage, and beer-swilling customers threw dollar bills. We walked right round to where Tony usually sat, and ordered a beer from the scantily dressed waitress. Sat in Tony's seat was a burly-looking guy who was obviously the manager, dealing with a couple of the girls, a wad of bills in his hands! Brilliant!

He just laughed when I asked if I could take a photo inside! "No way, buddy!" Hmm, I thought not!

In the evening we joined Linda's brother Steve, and his wife Gina, and went out for dinner. Italian, of course!

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# Route 66

Route 66 plans.

Monday, October 27, 2008

I imagine the majority of people will be most familiar with the Rolling Stones' version of the song "(Get your kicks on) Route 66", but it was actually written way back in 1946 by American song writer Bobby Troup, and recorded in the same year by Nat King Cole. Since then there has been over sixty recorded versions of the popular song:

So today is the day, I am setting off from Chicago, and go take that California trip, passing through all of the places listed in the song on the way, and sticking as much as possible to the original Route 66.

I expect the journey to take about two weeks, and have a rough outline of plans, but as always, is quite subject to change along the way:-

"Well it winds from Chicago to LA..."

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

I set off from Chicago first thing on Monday morning to begin my Route 66 trip. I picked up the RV as early as I could, and attached the licence plates that I had received for it, and after a quick check-over, was ready to go.

The first few miles in any second-hand vehicle are always the most nerve-wracking, as you hope that no major problems are going to reveal themselves, such as overheating, or strange noises from the engine bay.

Fortunately all went well, and after only one small detour through the countryside, I eventually found my way onto Route 55 towards Springfield, Illinois.

I took it pretty easy, and stopped a couple of times to check out the RV, and all continued to be well, and I eventually made it to Springfield in the late afternoon. After quite a while driving around completely lost, I eventually found the city centre, and parked up to make a quick phone call.

I had hoped to have a local Springfield guide, but when I called, Joni was pretty ill, so I was on my own for the evening. She gave me directions to the nearest Walmart, and I headed there and parked up. Walmart's superstores are very RV-friendly, and at most of them overnight RV parking is allowed in their securely monitored carparks. I confirmed that I would be able to stay there, and headed off for dinner.

The Cozy Dog Drive-In is, apparently, the birthplace of the original corn dog, which Joni had recommended I should try. The corn dog is basically a hotdog sausage on a stick, with a coating of corn-based batter. A bit odd, but quite tasty. The drive-in was filled with an amazing array of Route 66 memorabilia.

Back at Walmart I bought some food supplies, some pots and pans, and settled in for the evening. It was pretty cold, and I woke in the middle of the night, absolutely freezing, despite all the clothes layers I was wearing! I really need to figure out how the RV gas central heating system works!

I woke the next morning, ready to take a detour to visit Josh, who had contacted me from Indiana, and before setting off I went back into Walmart and bought a Magellan GPS navigator - hopefully that should prevent too many more navigational problems!

"Well it goes from St. Louis..."

Thursday, October 30, 2008

I was up early this morning after another Walmart overnight, this time on the outskirts of St Louis. My new best friend, the Magellan GPS, took me straight to the CBS Y98 radio studio, and I was live on air before 8am with Guy, Courtney and Jen. It was great fun, very chatty and light-hearted, and it was good to talk to a few callers afterwards.

When we were finished I drove into town, and after a quick look around Union Station, once the largest and busiest passenger terminal in the world, I parked up at the Mississippi riverfront, just by the Arch.

The Arch is absolutely incredible! It is huge! You can go inside, and a lift/train hybrid system takes you up to the top, where the view is breath-taking. The "how it was built" movie was fascinating too, and the whole thing is all the more impressive having been constructed in the early 60s.

It looked like I wasn't going to meet anyone in St Louis, as just like Springfield, my potential local guide, Francesca, called to tell me she was ill. I took her advice though, and went on the Anheuser-Busch Brewery tour - why miss out on free beer?

On the tour I got chatting to Rene and Jeff. Rene is achieving one of her goals tonight, by staying in a haunted house. She is very excited, and promised to email me to let me know how it goes, as it is one of my goals too! Good luck Rene!

Earlier today, after the radio show, Tara contacted me via email, and in the evening I met with her and her husband for dinner at well known local restaurant O'Learys, which was also one of Francesca's recommendations, and which had been mentioned a few times during the radio show interview. It was really nice to have someone offer to meet for dinner, as my other option was a lonely tin of soup in my chilly RV! Thanks guys!

Off to bed now in a quiet carpark hidden away behind the restaurant.

"down through Missouri..."

Friday, October 31, 2008

I got an early start after a quick breakfast, and spent a long day at the wheel. I think I had underestimated the distance between St Louis and Tulsa, and it took most of the day to travel down through Missouri.

I stopped in Joplin for lunch and to refuel, but only because it is mentioned in the original lyrics of the song "Route 66", although not in the Rolling Stones version.

I finally crossed from Missouri into Oklahoma at around 4pm, and less than an hour later was at my destination, thanks once again to the efficient Magellan GPS.

Rose from Oklahoma Travel Services had contacted me several months ago, and had sent brochures on Oklahoma and Route 66 attractions to me while I was in London. She had very kindly arranged a couple of nights for me near to tomorrow's destination, at the very scenic Sequoyah State Park, just outside the town of Wagoner.

I drove into the park, and couldn't find anyone at the office, so went and found the RV area, close to the shores of the lake. There was practically nobody else about, so I picked a scenic site right by the water's edge, and connected the RV to the water and power supplies. This was the first time I have done this, and everything works perfectly, lighting, heating, fridge, and shower. I am so pleased with the RV, it is becoming like a home now.

As I was setting up, four deer came wandering past. It's been a very warm day, and it was still warm in the early evening, so I went for a refreshing dip in the lake, then watched the sunset and made dinner. Very nice.

" **Oklahoma City..."**

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

After the hawk flying event (see my other Kindle book "Adventure Travel" for the hawk flying tale) on Saturday I finally got to meet Rose, who had sorted out my RV accommodation in the beautiful Sequoyah State Park, along with her husband Lance. They took me on a bit of a tour around the area surrounding Wagoner, including going to see Route 66 iconic attraction The Blue Whale at Catoosa. It is pretty run-down, and very eccentric. I was amused to find out that a guy had built it as an anniversary present for his wife! She must have been thrilled!

That evening I drove down to Muskogee where Bob was working with his hawk Valkyrie at the Muskogee Castle Haunted Halloween Festival. I didn't really know what to expect, but was amazed and amused at the huge event. The "castle" is an elaborate reconstruction of a medieval castle and village, filled for Halloween with a huge staff in both period costume and Halloween makeup. It was lit by fairy lights, and was really busy, filled with families having a frightful time! I sat for a while with Bob, and he took me to Domus Horrificus, a dark indoor maze peopled by all sorts of horrors - great fun!

I stayed overnight again at the State Park, and after some more hawk flying the next morning I set off for my next destination, in the Oklahoma farming area to the north-east of Oklahoma City. Oklahoma has the most drivable miles of the original Route 66, and I managed to get off the Interstate and follow the original route, taking my time and soaking up some of the atmosphere.

Sue and I had emailed back and forth several times during the past few months, and I was looking forward to seeing some of the farming lifestyle, of which I really have very little previous experience.

Sue and Nancy live on an 80 acre farm where they raise dairy sheep and goats organically, selling some for meat, but planning to produce cheese in the near future. One fascinating aspect of their farming method is the use of Italian-bred Maremma dogs, which live permanently within the flock and protect the sheep from coyotes and bobcats.

My farm visit was great fun, and activities that Sue and Nancy consider work were completely new experiences for me. I got to move bales of hay with a tractor, ride around on quad bikes, and got to shoot a 12-guage pump-action shotgun, both buckshot and slugs (which has a heck of a kick!), and do some target shooting with a .22 rifle. Buying the ammo was an eye-opener - just go to the local supermarket and look for the huge display of guns - no ID required to buy ammo!! I was pretty pleased with my targets, with most of the shots being within the two centre circles of the targets (although we weren't really that far away from them!)

A huge thanks to Sue and Nanc for being such fun hosts, and for offering such a wonderful opportunity to try out some fantastic new experiences.

And today is a pretty interesting day in America, as it is Election Day (you may just have heard something about this?) Everyone is very excited, and Sue was up and off first thing this morning to get her vote in. Whichever way it goes, there seems to be a real feeling of history-in-the-making today.

" **looks oh so pretty..."**

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Well, I haven't really seen enough of the Oklahoma area to confirm whether on not it is "oh so pretty", but it is certainly a very friendly place, and I've had a great time here. I drove in from the farm in the countryside to the city on Tuesday afternoon, stopping off briefly to take a look at the famous Route 66 round barn, and to visit Pops for lunch. Pops had been recommended to me by several people, and is an amazing roadside diner famous for it's incredibly extensive soda-pop menu. I am not a big soda drinker, but I had to try one, and ordered a white chocolate soda, which was actually surprisingly good.

In the city itself I found a place to park right by the Oklahoma City National Memorial, built in remembrance of the events of the morning of 19th April 1995, and the aftermath of that devastating bombing.

I wandered around the outside sections of the memorial, but did not think I would have time to look inside, as I was meeting Michelle, who had kindly offered to meet me after she finished work and be my Oklahoma City guide. I took a wander down through the business district, and on into Bricktown, following the canal through the pub and restaurant-filled part of the city.

Eventually I met up with Michelle, and we went for a couple of beers in a great bar, which had a couple of good English bitters on the menu. Wonderful. We made plans for the next day, including returning to the memorial for a proper look inside the museum, and after a bite to eat it was back to my RV, which I parked once again in Walmart's carpark for the night. I am going to add Walmart as an unofficial sponsor of my trip - what a fantastic overnight RV option!

The Memorial Museum was very well thought out, and took us through the events of the day of the bombing, and the aftermath, and was incredibly moving. Just like I had been after visiting the 9/11 memorial in New York, I was pretty quiet and thoughtful afterwards.

That evening, I met up again with Rose and Lance at their house. I had first met them out in Wagoner at the weekend, and they had kindly offered accommodation in Oklahoma as I passed through.

The next day I met with Lorraine, another internet contact, for lunch in the city before heading onwards on the journey. Somehow I forgot to bring my camera to lunch, which was at a wonderful sushi restaurant - sorry Lorraine!

Thanks again to my wonderful Oklahoma guides Michelle, Lorraine, Rose and Lance, and of course to Walmart too, my unofficial accommodation sponsor!

"You'll see Amarillo..."

Saturday, November 8, 2008

I saw Amarillo! It didn't take long to do so, a quick drive-through was enough!

But I had been told that I should go about twenty miles south-east of Amarillo to see Palo Duro Canyon State Park, so after another night in another Walmart carpark, this time with at least ten other RVs, I was up early and off to see the canyon.

It really is like a scene out of a western movie, and you can imagine the buffalo and the indians roaming the magnificent landscape before the palefaces arrived to change things forever.

A long day of driving took me into New Mexico, and it was late Saturday evening by the time I arrived in Albuquerque, and made my way to my overnight accommodation – Walmart's carpark, of course!

On Sunday morning I met with Sharon, who had contacted me through the website, and was keen to show me around Albuquerque and the surrounding area. We decided to head for Santa Fe while the weather looked good, and headed up into the hills. I was surprised to find that Santa Fe was at a height of over 7,000 feet, and was quite a bit cooler than Albuquerque.

It is an incredible place, with a very Spanish/Mexican heritage, and filled with art galleries and Indian craft stores. We wandered around the town centre, looking at the huge range of goods on offer, and eventually, following a local recommendation, made our way to a very popular local Mexican-style restaurant for lunch.

After lunch we headed down Canyon Road, filled with an amazing array of art galleries. Sharon told me to follow my nose, and decide which one's to look in, and I did so, suggesting that we go into Chalk Farm Gallery, where we found the work of Russian artist Vladimir Kush on display. It was absolutely fantastic, very surreal and imaginative, a bit Dali-inspired, and incredibly beautiful. Afterwards, I did not really want to visit any other gallery, as I felt that anything else afterwards would have been a bit of a disappointment. Sharon was very impressed with my choice - "You're very intuitive." I think maybe I was just lucky.

We headed back to Albuquerque, visiting some of Sharon's friends on the way, who lived in a couple of amazing homes right at the foot of the mountains.

A quick early evening tour of Albuquerque's downtown areas was followed by a bite to eat in the Frontier Diner (Mexican again!), and it was time for an early night (Walmart's again!), as I had alot of travelling planned for the next day and wanted an early start.

I wish I had more time to look around New Mexico, it looks pretty spectacular from the brief introduction I have had, many thanks to Sharon once again for her great guiding services.

"and Gallup, New Mexico..."

Monday, November 10, 2008

I saw Gallup, New Mexico. Once again, like Amarillo, perhaps I am doing the place a bit of an injustice, as I had alot of miles to cover, but a quick drive-through was enough...

However, the drive through New Mexico on the almost desolate parts of old Route 66 was quite stunning, and very atmospheric. There were hardly any other vehicles on the road, which veered away from the interstate. Crossing New Mexico the road climbs to over 7,000 feet, and there was snow on the ground. Along the roadside there were all sorts of abandoned buildings, such as petrol stations and old motels. Very atmospheric indeed, and slightly melancholic.

"Flagstaff, Arizona. Don't forget Winona..."

Monday, November 10, 2008

Another long day at the wheel! I think I took things a bit easy on the early part of the Route 66 journey, and hung around in Oklahoma for a while, and now time is pressing a bit, as I have a flight booked from Las Vegas on Friday, so pressure is on a bit!

I crossed the Dividing Range at over 7,000 feet, and eventually headed into Arizona, which is a spectacular journey. I had planned to take a small detour to see the huge meteor crater just off I-40, and was pleased that I did. It was very impressive.

I finally made it to Flagstaff, Arizona, and I didn't forget Winona, although it would appear that most of the rest of the world has already done so. It is a very small place, and I was out the far side of it almost before I had realised I had arrived there, and had to turn round to take a picture of the wonderful old bridge, no longer open to traffic.

So I got into Flagstaff just in time to make it to the bank as planned, hopefully to collect my debit card for my US bank account. But it's not here! It hasn't arrived yet, and I plan to head out for the Grand Canyon early tomorrow! Oh dear, I'll have to try to get it sent on to me in Las Vegas perhaps.

I had a very quick wander around Flagstaff, but it was getting dark and cold, and I found a warm, inviting Irish pub with free internet access, and so have settled in for the evening. Flagstaff is a bit snowy, and has a lovely early-season ski resort feel to it, very wintery, with towering mountains in the background. I will try to have a look around tomorrow before heading out towards the Grand Canyon.

"Kingman, Barstow, San Bernadino..."

Thursday, November 20, 2008

It was a long drive from Las Vegas to LA in the RV, but I got an early start after saying goodbye to Simon and Myles, and by mid-afternoon I had passed through the last couple of towns mentioned in the song (Kingman was actually before detouring up to Las Vegas), and was heading towards LA, and almost at the end of my Route 66 journey.

Goal 18 completed - "More than 2,000 miles all the way."

Sunday, November 23, 2008

I set off from Chicago on 27th October, almost a month ago, to travel across America on what is left of old Route 66. After dropping Evan off at LAX airport this morning (he is flying back home for Thanksgiving, which is this coming Thursday), I headed towards Santa Monica Beach, and the end of the cross-country journey.

I bought myself a coffee and sat at the beach thinking over the whole trip from the past month. I think before I started, in my mind the trip was about finding as much of the original road, and actually driving upon it. But on reflection, I think it became much more about the people I have met on my journey, and the experiences that they have offered me along the way.

I have met some wonderful people who have been incredibly kind and hospitable to someone who was initially to them just a random internet stranger. To everyone that I have met on the route, thank you so much, it has been a fantastic journey.

So I ended up in somewhat murky weather at Santa Monica beach, and wandered along towards the pier, happily watching all the people cycling, skating, playing volleyball, or heading for the surf. I felt pretty happy to have arrived, and am pleased that it doesn't really feel like the end of anything, as my travels now continue up the west coast towards winter in Canada. I am thoroughly enjoying this whole adventure, and am not ready for it to end just yet!

Afterwards, I headed down to Venice Beach, which had a great hippy-type street market, selling all sorts of arty stuff, and beads and trinkets. After a drive down to El Segundo (I just liked the name!) I headed north up Route 1, the Pacific Coast Highway, through Malibu, and up through the mountains back to Evan's house. What a beautiful drive, as the sun had burnt through the gloomy mist by early afternoon.

I am now living in the RV on Evan's driveway, and one of his housemates, Wade, asked if I fancied going ten-pin bowling. We went to the local bowling lanes, and I topped off a great day in LA by bowling a 170, my personal record score!

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# Hollywood

Goal 19 achieved - The City of the Angels.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Wow, three goals achieved in three days! I'll be finished by Christmas if I can keep this up!! On Saturday I experienced indoor skydiving in a vertical wind tunnel, yesterday I completed my journey across Route 66 by finally arriving at Santa Monica, and today I headed into Hollywood to complete my goal of seeing Los Angeles.

Evan has very kindly lent me his car for the week while he is away, and my first job this morning was to fix the cigarette lighter socket, which wasn't working. Without that I am unable to charge my GPS, and heading off into downtown LA without it would have been foolish. So it didn't take me long to have the whole centre console of Evan's car stripped out. It took a bit longer to get it all back together \- don't worry Evan, it's all working well now!

Once sorted, I was off, and got parked at the Kodak Theatre on Hollywood Boulevard. The first thing I wanted to do was to see the Hollywood sign up on the hill, which is for me the iconic image of LA, and just around the corner, there it was, high up on the Hollywood Hills.

I took a wander along Hollywood Boulevard, down Vine Street, and then back westward on Sunset Boulevard. I was surprised to find that among the glamour and the glitz there are quite a few closed down businesses, and that parts of the area are pretty run-down. However, at the westward end of Sunset Boulevard, where it becomes Sunset Strip, it becomes pretty exclusive and expensive.

In the evening I met up with Ari, who lives just off Sunset, and works as a voiceover artist, doing voices for movie trailers, adverts, and any other project requiring voice acting. Check out some of his demos in the links at the bottom of this section. He had contacted me through the website, and offered to buy me a pint - how could I refuse?

We met in the Trocadero on Sunset, and after a couple of beers we headed to Sushi On Sunset to eat, which was absolutely fantastic. The Firecracker Chicken was the highlight of the menu. Huge thanks to Ari for a very entertaining evening, and for picking up the bill too, I reckon it would have cost about a week's worth of my travelling budget!

Every now and then I keep realising what I am doing, and where I am, and this evening, sat eating dinner I had one of those moments. "I am sat in an incredible restaurant on Sunset Strip in LA, eating dinner with a Hollywood actor!!" What a amazing experience! Cheers, Ari.

What an experience – again!!

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Yesterday I had another one of those amazing life-moments when you are just suddenly hit by where you are and what is happening.

Since very early on in the "ALife4Sale" project, I have had occasional contacts from movie and TV producers interested in doing something with the story. I really did not know how to handle all of these enquiries, but had some amazing and surreal discussions on the phone.

One of the most memorable was with a Hollywood producer who suggested that her team of people saw the story "as a Tom Hanks-type rom-com." What an unreal comment to hear about something that you are doing. My quick response was a tongue in cheek reply, as I tried not to laugh at what I was saying. "Oh no, I rather saw George Clooney playing me!" Without missing a beat, or picking up on any of the humour in my voice, the agent simply said, "Yes, we could possibly make that happen."!!! Wow, I thought, I'm a bit out of my area of experience here!

Fortunately Evan, who was helping with some of the "ALife4Sale" publicity, put me in touch with an LA movie agent, and I could palm off all such enquiries to Brandon and let him deal with them. Since then things seem to have moved pretty slowly, but there has been alot of discussion between Brandon and Walt Disney, who seemed most interested in the project.

There was some negotiation, and eventually Brandon presented an offer which he thought was the best we would get. Disney wanted to buy an 18 month option on the story, with a view to buying the story within that period if they decide to go ahead and make a movie. And of course they pay for this option.

I was amazed about this, and of course happy to accept. I mean, how often does a normal bloke like me have Disney knocking at their door wanting to make a movie about them?

Well, since then it all seems to have taken a huge amount of time to sort out paperwork and signatures, but I spoke to Brandon a couple of days ago, and he suggested we meet in Beverly Hills for lunch. "Of course," I said, as if it was the type of thing I did all the time. "Oh, and I'll be able to give you your cheque too," he added.

So I programmed the GPS and set off through the horrendous LA traffic to Beverley Hills and parked at Barneys on Wilshire Boulevard, which has a very popular restaurant on the top floor. Also having lunch there at the same time was movie director Ridley Scott, and as we walked out the store afterwards I held the door open for Monty Phthon's Eric Idle. What a surreal experience.

Lunch was fantastic, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Brandon offered to pick up the bill. Although he then presented me with my cheque from Disney, and I felt my financial situation ease slightly!

After the lunch meeting I wandered up and down Wilshire Boulevard and Rodeo Drive, where all the incredibly expensive shops are, then went to collect the car. To get out of the area I found myself at the junction of these two famous roads, in front of the hotel where Pretty Woman and many other movies were filmed, waiting in the middle of the junction to turn left onto Rodeo Drive, behind a Mercedes with a Beverly Hills licence plate, a cheque in my pocket from Walt Disney, rock music blaring from my stereo, arm out the car window, having just had lunch with my very own movie agent!! I was amazed and stunned, but immensely happy - what an incredible experience! I took a photograph through the car windscreen. Of course it doesn't fully capture the moment, but I know I will never forget the feeling!!

Once again, I think about what an incredible journey this is turning out to be. A year ago I was a truck driver in a mine, yesterday I was driving around Beverly Hills with a movie studio cheque in my pocket.

Later in the afternoon I had to go to Walmart to buy a new pair of jeans. The pair I have are now falling apart a bit, the right rear pocket now has a huge hole in it, and under the left rear pocket a hole is starting too. I had to laugh that I had been to probably the most expensive restaurant I have ever been to in the scruffiest pair of backpacker-jeans I have ever had!

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# Juggling with fire

Happy Thanksgiving Day! Goal 20 achieved!

Friday, November 28, 2008

LA just keeps offering one amazing day after the next. Thanksgiving Day was absolutely brilliant!

One of my goals is to juggle with fire clubs. My dad taught me how to juggle three balls when I was young, and later he bought me a set of juggling clubs. I am not very good with them, as I don't really practice enough, but have always fancied trying to juggle with fire clubs.

I added this goal to my list, and recently, as I approached Los Angeles, I was contacted by Mark Bakalor, who lives and works with a juggler called Vova Galchenko. Vova, Mark told me, is one of the world's greatest jugglers. He was recently featured in The New York Times and has been on The Oprah Winfrey Show, BBC, ESPN, Ellen DeGeneres Show, The Today Show and US news program Nightline.

Mark invited me to their family home for Thanksgiving Day, and gave me the address to put into my GPS. Driving out there was an experience in itself, as "Maggie" directed me out into the beautiful Santa Monica mountains above Malibu. As I approached, and the GPS said I was there, I looked up at the hillside at the most amazing house perched high above. That can't be it, I thought - it was! The place was stunning.

I met Mark and Vova, and the whole family covering four generations, all gathered for Thanksgiving dinner. I learned a bit of Vova's background story. He had left Russia at the age of fifteen along with his sister Olga who was twelve at the time, and had come to America in search of a better life. They were already an incredible juggling partnership, and had performed many shows, but it was when Mark and Vova entered a competition to make a video for a Fat Boy Slim song that things really started happening.

The video was a huge hit on YouTube, and led to all sorts of TV appearances over the past couple of years. Have a look at the video here:-

Fatboy Slim Music Video link:-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aEb3YknGUks

And so here I was, in the house where the video was made, throwing clubs around with the guy that Time Magazine called "one of the greatest jugglers in history", and The Today Show called "the best in the entire world"!

After a wonderful Thanksgiving meal, we juggled some more, and the fire clubs came out, and the frustrating practice started. Vova, of course, made it look very easy, but in the dark, it is very hard not to concentrate on the flame, and seeing the handle of the club as it comes over the top is much harder.

However, with alot of practice, and a bit of lighting from inside the house, I started to make a couple of catches. The general opinion of all the jugglers there, which included Vova, Mark, and his dad Barry, was that to be considered a successful "juggle" you had to perform an amount of catches which is double the number of items you are juggling, and an added bonus would be to catch the final item to "look cool".

I tried many times, and found it alot trickier than I had thought it would be. However, thanks to the patience of all there, I finally managed to do six or seven catches in a row. I kept at it, and eventually managed a run of six with a final catch at the end. As I caught the final club, I heard Vova saying, "Oh no, don't catch it!" It was the only time he hadn't been filming me, so I had to do it again!

Although I am happy that the goal has been achieved, there is still room for improvement (alot of room for improvement when you see what Vova can do!) before I will be satisfied, so I do intend to keep practicing, and hope to do some more fire-club juggling in the future.

Huge thanks to Mark, Vova, Olga, Barry, Ari, and everyone else at the Bakalor home, what a truly outstanding, memorable day!

Here's a video of my fumbling attempts to juggle fire clubs.

Juggling Fire Clubs With Vova Video link:-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tGuenMxjOQ8

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# Working in a soup kitchen

Goal 24 completed - Merry Christmas!

Friday, December 26, 2008

Being away from home for Christmas can be a bit of a challenge, although I don't actually really have anywhere to call home anymore! But I have often thought about doing something different one Christmas, and the idea of volunteering in a homeless shelter has always appealed, and also seems particularly appropriate this year, as I am semi-homeless myself, albeit by choice, rather than due to unfortunate circumstances.

Vancouver is cold and snowy, and has a huge homeless population. I have talked with a few people here about the problem, and it seems that homeless people in Canada tend to end up in Vancouver, as it is warmer than most other places. Good grief - it's freezing cold here at the moment.

The problem is huge, and tragically was brought to the headlines just a few days ago when a homeless woman burned to death trying to keep warm, by using a candle in her makeshift shelter: The problem is only expected to get worse, with numbers of homeless here predicted to triple by the start of the Winter Olympics in 2010:

So over the last couple of days I managed to track down a shelter that still wanted volunteers for Christmas Day, and was scheduled to help out from 8pm until midnight. As I headed down there I felt a bit guilty about the huge, delicious Christmas dinner I had enjoyed earlier with Denise and Duncan.

It was a cold and frosty night, and I drove carefully into the city and parked the RV, and made my way to "The Dugout". I arrived just before 8pm and entered the front door of the shelter, which looked like a very busy cafe, with a huge long line of people stretching out the back door.

I looked for my contact Jackie, and soon found myself serving mashed potatoes, as the long line of people waiting to be fed continued to file past the counter. I chatted with the other volunteers to either side of me (peas and carrots to the left, and gravy to my right) and to the people in the queue.

There was a really festive atmosphere, and everybody was having fun, and I enjoyed meeting the people we were there to help, but I could not help being staggered by the amount of people that filed through. They had been serving food since 7pm, and we continued to do so almost until 10pm. Jackie estimated that we had fed between 300 and 400 people!

I feel a little ambivalent about the experience, and I think it is something that will stay with me for a long time. It certainly has given me food for thought, no pun intended. On one hand I am pleased to have achieved a goal, and glad to have helped out on Christmas Day, but am troubled by the fact that I can just walk away and get on with the rest of my life. The people there simply do not have that choice.

I talked with Jackie for a while about some of the problems she and her volunteers face, as the try to feed these unfortunate people every day. I am amazed and awed by their dedication, and their selfless generosity. It was an absolute privilege to work with these people, even if only for a few hours, and to meet many of the people they are helping, who I would normally pass on the street with hardly a second thought!

Very thought provoking!

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# Volcano

Goal 27 achieved - Kilauea volcano.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

I was up very early this morning and packed my stuff for the day in darkness before driving the 20 miles back to town to meet up with Danny, the guide from Hawaii Forest and Trail, who would be taking a group of twelve, including myself, on a tour of the Kilauea Volcano.

This had been organised by Becky at the Big Island Visitors Bureau, in response to contact from Debbie in Oregon about my visit here.

We drove across the island, and Danny told us stories of the history and culture of Hawaii, as well as facts on volcanoes, and the formation of the Hawaiian Islands chain.

Our first volcano stop was to overlook the huge Kilauea Caldera, a crater which is three miles long and two miles wide. Smoke seeps out of cracks in the floor, and the whole scene is quite other-worldly.

Next we took a walk through a lava tube, which is formed when flowing lava develops a skin over the top, but continues to run underneath the surface, forming a tube of flowing molten rock. When the lava stops flowing, an empty rock tube remains, and these can often be miles long.

We also took a look into the smaller Kilauea Ika Crater, and behind that we could see the huge plume of sulphur dioxide which the volcano has been producing for months.

Or final stop of the day was to see the spectacular point where flowing lava reaches the sea. At the water's edge, the lava instantly boils the seawater, which causes a huge steam cloud. We were very fortunate to be able to see this, which has been occurring at this point only for a matter of weeks, as for the previous few days the wind has been blowing in the wrong direction, and the road has been closed due to the danger. However, today the wind shifted, and the road was opened again - perfect timing. Where the lava meets the water there are often explosions, with new rock being thrown high in the air.

As the lava meets the water, it is cooled and solidifies, and becomes new rock, and the Big Island continues to get bigger - what an amazing process to see in action.

The whole experience was quite incredible, and the views stunning. Huge thanks to all who have helped make this possible, Debbie for acting so efficiently as my personal organiser, Becky for arranging the trip for me, Danny for his incredibly well-informed guiding services, and all at Hawaii Forest and Trail, and Barbara for her kind offer of accommodation for my stay here.

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# Surf Waikiki

Goal 30 - Hawaii Five-0.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

I remember as a kid watching Hawaii Five-0, and thinking that it looked fantastic - it was always sunny - but the downside was that the place seemed to be riddled with crime!

The Hawaiian island of Oahu is beautiful, and so far I have managed to stay out of harm's way. I have always wanted to visit, and for me the thing that I really wanted to do when I got here was to ride the surf at Waikiki in an outrigger canoe, just as I remembered from the opening scenes of Hawaii Five-0.

So this morning Matt, Jackie and I wandered along the seafront to Waikiki, and chatted to Uncle Gill from Star Beach Boys on the beach there. He soon had us sorted out with a captain, and with a couple of additions to our crew, we were off into the surf.

$15 for about half an hour out there seemed very reasonable, and we caught three waves, with time for a quick swim in the beautiful warm water before the last ride in. Here is a short video of one of the rides:-

Outrigger Canoe Waikiki Video link:-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rM6RNHUz6Do

What a beautiful day, and what a beautiful place in which to achieve goal #30.

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# Tokyo capsule hotel

Konichiwa - Goal 32 achieved in Tokyo.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Konichiwa! (kon-nee-chee-wah)

I arrived at Tokyo airport yesterday afternoon, and found an ATM to get some Japanese Yen. The maths took a while, as I tried to figure how much Y10,000 is worth. I didn't want to get it wrong, and withdraw ten bucks worth, or try for a couple of thousand by mistake either! I am reasonably confident that I have about $400 worth of Yen with me now.

I found the bus that I needed to catch, and bought a ticket with a couple of minutes to spare, and travelled for a couple of hours through the centre of Tokyo and out the other side.

At the bus station in Shin Yurigaoka I called Connie, who had offered me accomodation with her family, and eventually met her husband Kazuyuki at the station, and took the metro with him to their home in the suburbs.

There I met Connie, and their four children, three boys, aged 12, 9 and 6, and a girl aged 3. We went out for dinner, the young daughter happily chatting to me on the way in the back of the car in a confusing mixture of Japanese and English. She had me laughing delightedly, as she seemed quite surprised at my lack of understanding. She tried teaching me the Japanese words for the colours of the traffic lights we passed, but I struggled to remember the words later on.

So this morning I was wide awake at 3am, body-clock still on Hawaii-time, and did some planning for the day. After an early breakfast with Kazuyuki, I gathered some stuff for the day, and headed into the city.

Tokyo's railway system is mind-boggling, and although the section of system I was on seemed relatively easy to navigate, the ticketing system is a minefield of possibilities, with several different companies seeming to offer several different options and services. The complicated diagram in the picture below is just one route, not the whole system. I think!

Eventually I made it to the city, just in time to meet Kazuyuki for lunch. He showed me a nearby capsule hotel and he tried to book me in for the evening. Oh dear, everything had been going so well. Kazuyuki was too honest when asked if I had any tattoos! Unfortunately I found that a goal achieved earlier was now in conflict with this goal at this particular hotel. Kazuyuki's only possible explanation was that maybe they had had trouble with tattoed gang members previously!

According to the list of restrictions, it would also be an issue if I turned up "deeply drunked"!

So we got directions to another capsule hotel nearby, where the possibility that I may be a tattoed thug didn't seem to be an issue, but my lack of ability to speak Japanese would be. However, Kazuyuki saved the day by translating the many rules, and left his mobile number with the manager in case I proved to be too troublesome!

For the rest of the afternoon I wandered around happily soaking up the atmosphere of the city.

There are some amazing sites, and some completely unexplainable ones. I imagine that I wandered most of the afternoon with a look of puzzled amusement on my face. The huge array of schoolgirl and nurse outfits was eyebrow-raising!

I took a look in a few electronics stores, where I found myself in gadget heaven. The range of technology was fantastic, but the prices seemed a bit higher than they had been in the US, so my purchase of a new computer will probably have to wait a while yet.

Eventually I managed to tear myself away and headed to my accomodation where I tried out the tiny cubicle, and made use of the communal baths and sauna. The capsule hotel is for men only, no women allowed, and the choice of stations on the tiny TV in the cubicle reflected this, with channel 21 offering "adult-oriented content"!

I headed back out for a bite to eat, and a wander around gazing at the bright neon lights. I strayed into a video games arcade which spread out over six floors, filled with an array of amazing games I have never seen before. Somehow I ended up in the extremely busy red light district, and must have stood out like a sore thumb, as I seemed to get alot of invites into little clubs hidden away down narrow staircases.

The whole place really comes alive and is so vibrant at night, and I could have walked around for hours. It is quite fascinating and so different from most places that I have experienced. Eventually though, I headed "home" for an early evening. I am still trying to get over a last lingering bit of jetlag, and this morning's early start, I think.

And so now it's time to complete the goal, by sleeping here tonight. I might just check out Channel 21 again though first!

Oyasuminasai. (oh-yah-soo-mee-nah-sigh)

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# Ice sculptures

Goal 36 - Yuki Matsuri.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Two flights took me from Naha up to Haneda, Tokyo's domestic airport, then on to Sapporo, and it was late afternoon by the time I arrived. A train into the city itself, and then another out to where my hotel was situated meant that it was early evening by the time I got settled in.

I think I had been lucky to find a hotel room, as I had left it a bit late, not really being sure of my Sapporo dates until I worked out the Okinawa trip. But Mark's Inn was reasonably inexpensive, and pretty comfortable, and best of all, only a five minute walk to the Yuki Matsuri, the famous Sapporo Ice Sculptures Festival.

I hadn't eaten since breakfast, and went out to find something to eat, and considered walking up to see some of the sculptures, which line Odari Park, just to the north of my hotel, but it was snowing pretty hard when I went outside, and I decided to leave it until morning.

I was glad I did, as it dawned a beautiful sunny morning. After a late breakfast I walked up through Susukino, where there are some smaller ice sculptures. Eventually I arrived at Odari Park, and was very impressed by the size of some of the many sculptures there.

In the afternoon I took a bus out to a third festival site, and returned to the city in time to go up the big tower at the end of the park, and take some pictures in daylight, before waiting for darkness to fall to see the whole place lit up like a winter wonderland.

Sadly, that's now the end of my visit to Japan, which has been so interesting. Time to move onwards again, to Australia next....

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# Cannes Film Festival

Cannes Film Festival Opening Day.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Yesterday morning Pierre dropped me off at the local train station, and I headed in to Cannes, where the film festival was scheduled to open in the evening.

Cannes is another beautiful south of France coastal town, and the place was packed with all sorts of people wearing festival passes and badges. I felt like one of the only people that did not have some form of ID around my neck. However, when I arrived at the front of the Palais de Festival I wasn't the only tourist taking snaps of the final piece of the red carpet being rolled into place.

The atmosphere is great, and I wandered happily along the seafront which is packed with movie industry tents. Around the other side of the building, where huge yachts fill the harbour, most emblazoned with adverts for different movies or studios, I found a huge gaggle of press on stepladders shouting over the fence at people arriving in limos. Unfortunately I did not recognise any of the new arrivals.

I have been emailing all of the movie industry contacts I have, which really isn't that many, most of whom I know from when the ALife4Sale publicity was at it's peak. My actual Cannes Film Festival goal is to get into an event here, or see a screening of a new movie. But the problem is that in order to do this, you need official accreditation, and to get accreditation, you need to be part of the movie industry.

I am hoping to find someone who has a spare ticket for an event, and hopefully get in to something under their wing. There are a few potentially good contacts to call this morning. Fingers crossed! I never thought it would be so difficult to get to see a movie!

After returning from Cannes, Pierre had some tickets for the big game of soccer, between local rivals Nice and Marseilles, and along with Thibault, we haded along to the match.

The atmosphere was electric, and the local fans were in fine voice, singing their hearts out behind the goal. However, there was disappointment all round as local team Nice failed to find any sort of form, and were beaten 2 - 0 by the much stronger Marseilles team.

By the end of the match my eyes were drooping, and I was off to bed pretty soon after we got home. I have managed to sleep in a little longer this morning, but am still up and about, wide awake, long before anyone else!

Goal 43 - Cannes-tastic!

Friday, May 15, 2009

Wow! As an example of how you can expect the events of a day to unfold in one direction, but a couple of things change, and the course of the day takes you in quite an unexpected direction, yesterday is certainly going to be hard to beat!

I woke early again, feeling slightly feverish, and wondered casually if I might have caught the swine flu virus already. When I passed through Hong Kong the airport resembled a hospital wing, with about a third of the travellers wearing surgical masks, notices everywhere displaying dire health warnings, and temperature testing stations set up in several locations for paranoid incoming travellers.

I was looking forward to a quiet day at Valerie and Pierre's apartment, and wanted to catch up on some emails. My main priority was to try and sort out some new accommodation, as Valerie and Pierre have family arriving today, and they need the space.

I had had a few contacts from people who had suggested that they may be able to help out, but so far nothing had been confirmed, so I re-emailed a couple of people. My first contact was Rikki, who runs Exhibition Consultants International Ltd. and builds stands for the film festival, among other things. He had been told about me by Philippe from EIE Global, who helped out with my Eiffel Tower goal back in September last year.

My second contact was Adrian, who first contacted me via the website way back when I first started my goals quest. At the time he lived in Cannes, but has since moved to London. He still has many contacts here, and thought he could possibly find some accommodation for me in Cannes itself.

Adrian was quickly on the case, and put me in touch with Lao from Cannes-based accommodation agency Azur Alive, and Lao said that he would be glad to help, and that I could use one of their apartments at no charge! Marvellous! I arranged to meet him at around 3pm that afternoon.

Almost straight afterwards Rikki called me, and although he had been unable to track down any accommodation, he had a contact from the UK Film Council who would like to meet me in the afternoon, with the possibility of a ticket to a screening. It looked like things were coming together, perhaps.

After a quick shower and shave Valerie dropped me off at the train station, and I met Lao at his office. He took me to see a lovely fourth floor apartment right in downtown Cannes, and left me with the key. I can use the place for about 5 days, and then he will find me another. Fantastic.

Next I went to meet Rikki in front of the Palais, and he produced a pass for me, and we went through security, into the festival building itself. I almost felt like my goal had been achieved, as I was already somewhere that the general public could not access.

We walked through the huge marketplace area where stands from movie production companies from all over the world are set up to sell their wares to movie buyers. We made our way to the International Village area, and at the UK Film Centre, Rikki introduced me to Tina from the UK Film Council.

She is Head of Industry Relations, and as well as helping me with my goal, hoped that the Film Council might benefit from some publicity too. She rang a couple of people to set up some possible interviews, and offered me a ticket to the movie which was going to screen that evening at 10.30pm.

At first I didn't quite grasp the significance of the ticket I was given, but when Rikki saw it, he was amazed. The movie being screened was the premiere of the first movie in the Film Festival competition, called "Fish Tank", written and directed by Andrea Arnold. Andrea won the Prix de Jury in 2006 with her first movie "Red Road", and "Fish Tank" is her highly anticipated follow-up.

Because the UK Film Council co-funded both of these movies, they had some pretty good tickets for the screening, and my seat was in the "Orchestre" section. "That's right at the front, up the red carpet and in through the main door," Rikki exclaimed! "You'll need a tuxedo!" Hmmmm!

However, somewhat coincidentally, Eric, a producer in Hollywood had called the day before I left Australia, and he had put me in touch with an actor/writer/filmmaker who would be here in Cannes. I had spoke to Bobby Leigh earlier in the day, and was hoping to meet him later, and he had suggested that if I managed to get a ticket, I could borrow his suit, if he wasn't using it at the time.

I tried Bobby a couple of times, but his phone was off - he was obviously having a busy first day. I went looking for a suit hire shop, and soon found one pretty close to my apartment. At 7pm I gave Bobby a final try, and upon discovering that his phone was still off, I went ahead and was relieved of 90 Euros for the hire of a tux and shoes for the evening.

I was going to have to stay in Cannes for the night, as the movie would finish long after the last train, and I called Valerie to let her know. At the apartment I showered and washed as best I could, but had no toiletries at all with me, and no more cash either, as it had all gone on the suit, and a sandwich for dinner. The apartment was so empty of anything at all that I had to dry off after the shower with handfuls of toilet paper! All my stuff was still back in Nice.

Eventually I suited up and headed down to La Croisette, the seafront area, and wandered around soaking up the atmosphere, which was electric. I joined the line of other smartly dressed movie-goers, and made my way through several security and ticket checks. Many others with different coloured tickets to mine were directed off through side entrances, but I kept waving my ticket about, and kept getting waved through, until I was at the foot of the red carpet. To either side were huge crowds of photographers, but they were obviously waiting quietly for the stars to arrive.

The walk up the carpet was wonderful, and I stopped at the top to look back down. Many others were taking photos, despite warnings on the ticket that photography was not allowed, and so I joined in too. What a wonderful atmosphere!

My ticket granted me access through the main doors, and I was escorted right to the front of the cinema and told that I could sit wherever I liked. I picked the front row!

On the huge screen you could watch others arriving on the red carpet, and the seats slowly filled around me. Eventually the director, Andrea Arnold arrived with some of the stars from the movie, and I watched on the big screen as they made their way up the steps outside.

It was interesting to see their progress live through the lobby area, and then turn around and see them come into the room, to a huge round of applause.

Eventually, when all were seated again the movie started. It is a very English, very gritty study of a girl growing up on a rough housing estate in southern England, and was very compelling and well acted. At the end there was a huge standing ovation, which was fun to be part of.

Afterwards, we had to wait for the stars to go back down the steps, and then followed suit. I met a Chinese girl who appeared to be on her own too, so we swapped cameras and took plenty of pictures of each other. She seemed to be as thrilled and excited as I was to be there.

At around 1am I wandered back to the apartment through the busy streets with a huge smile on my face. What a way to achieve my Cannes goal! I couldn't possibly have imagined being so successful in acquiring a ticket for a screening. What a dream come true!

Huge thanks to all who have helped to make this goal possible:-

Phillipe, Rikki and Tina for the making the ticket a reality.

Adrian and Lao for sorting out my accommodation.

Eric and Bobby for their advice and support.

And of course, Valerie, Pierre and Thibault for their wonderful kindness and accommodation in Nice.

Valerie had contacted local English-speaking Riviera Radio on my behalf, and this morning I was scheduled for an interview with them at 9am. I put my suit on again - I had paid 90 Euros for it and was determined to get value for money!! - and headed down to the huge Hotel Martinez on the seafront. There I met Peter, who transmits live daily from the lobby there, and was soon live on air. It seemed to go pretty well, and when I eventually got back to Nice Thibault said he had heard the interview and said it had sounded great.

What an amazing 24 hours! What an awesome way to achieve a goal! What an adventure!

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# Meeting Richard Branson

Goal 46 - Virgin territory.

Sunday, May 31, 2009

I have long been an admirer of Richard Branson, and have mentioned him in several of by past blog postings. And so it was with great excitement that I headed into central London this morning with my brother Martin.

While back in Australia I had done some internet searching, and had found email addresses for several people at Virgin Blue, the Australian-based Virgin airline. I sent a couple of emails, and got a reply suggesting that I might be able to meet Richard next time he was in Australia. Unfortunately that wouldn't be until November 2009, and I was not sure that I would be back in the country by then.

However, my email had been forwarded to a Virgin PR person in the UK, and I followed up by emailing her. I got a response from Richard's personal assistant, who said that Richard would be happy to meet me when he was next in Australia.

While in Cannes, I heard rumours that Richard may be heading down to Monaco, which is just along the coast, for the Grand Prix, so sent another email to his PA, explaining where I was, and that I would also be in the UK for the following few weeks. I was amazed to get a response from Richard himself!

He invited me to the unveiling of a plaque to commemorate the life of WWII fighter pilot, Douglas Bader, and suggested that I could then jump in the car with him afterwards as he headed for the airport.

So Martin and I arrived early, and waited in the small city centre mews as the TV crews and the crowd gathered, watching the plaque get polished in preparation.

Eventually Richard arrived, and when he appeared to have a relatively quiet moment I took the opportunity to introduce myself. In terms of my hopes and expectations for this goal, I had already achieved what I set out to do, but Richard confirmed that I could join him after the ceremony for the trip to the airport.

The ceremony was interesting, and if you don't know the story of Douglas Bader, it is well worth reading. Despite the loss of both legs in an aeroplane crash in 1931, he went on to become one of the most successful war-time fighter pilots. There is also a movie about his exploits, called "Reach For The Sky", which I watched again just last week. A very inspiring man!

Richard was there because he wanted to support the "Douglas Bader Foundation", which exists to advance and promote the physical, mental and spiritual welfare of persons who are without one or more limbs, or otherwise physically disabled. But he was also there because he had met Douglas Bader while he was a boy, as Douglas and his aunt Clare had been close friends. He told the amusing tale of how as a mischievous 7-year-old he had stolen Douglas's artificial legs while he was swimming, and had been chased by an irate legless Douglas dragging himself along after him!

After the ceremony was over, Richard made his way back to his waiting car, and I joined him, and after a quick photo we headed towards Heathrow.

We spoke about many things, and I thoroughly enjoyed the half-an-hour I got to share with him. He is very down to earth, and easy to chat to. I asked him about current ventures, and was particularly interested in recent progress with the amazing Virgin Galactic project.

He asked many questions about my goals, and I told him of a couple that I am currently working on, including my current fundraising efforts for Bowel Cancer Research, and my attempt to gather 5 Ian Ushers in one place!

He made a very kind offer, and said that he would donate $500 to the Bowel Cancer Research and Awareness Institute, for every Ian Usher that I managed to gather, but only if I do manage to achieve my goal and gather a minimum of five of us!!

Pressure is on now! Come on, Ians!

Thanks to my brother once again for getting me to another goal on time, and of course, enormous thanks to Richard for fitting me in to his busy schedule, and allowing me to complete another goal in a manner way beyond any of my expectations. Thank you very much!

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# 4 Ian Ushers

Four Ian Ushers!

Sunday, June 21, 2009

After the wingwalk I had to dash back around London to drop the car off at my brother's house, and caught the underground into the city to meet some other Ian Ushers.

I have been trying everything I could think of over the past week to try to gather five of us, and by Saturday morning I had three other Ians confirmed, making a total of four of us.

I had been in touch with four or five other Ians from various parts of the country, but all had other engagements, or London was too far for them to come. I had hoped to be able to get the four of us in a car and drive to briefly meet one of the other Ians, but had been unable to get in touch with him to make arrangements.

So eventually I had to accept defeat on this occasion, and be happy with meeting three other Ian Ushers.

Ian (London) Usher had arrived at the pub just before me, and we got a couple of pints and sat down for a chat with the first other Ian Usher we had both ever met.

Shortly afterwards Ian (Portsmouth) Usher arrived, followed minutes later by Ian (Bristol) Usher. We had a couple of rounds in the fantastic old Glasshouse Stores pub, and got to know each other a bit.

We all got on pretty well, and the other Ians had some funny stories about how my eBay antics had impacted upon them. Ian from Portsmouth is about the same age as me, and had had many old friends contact him, asking if he was okay, and why he was selling everything.

And Ian from Bristol is an artist, and when setting up his website, his web designer couldn't understand why they couldn't get him a good ranking in a Google search, until he discovered why... "Oh, that's unlucky! You've got the same name as the guy selling his life on eBay! That makes it much trickier."

The fire alarm went off just as we were finishing our second round, and we all ended up out on the pavement until things were sorted out, and decided that it would be a good time to head off to the Roundhouse in Covent Garden, where the new owners, Fuller's Beers, had offered each Ian a socially responsible free two pints of beer. Free beer! Fantastic, thank you Fullers!

As the afternoon turned into evening the beers continued to flow, and we did alot of laughing at unusual and entertaining situations that could occur. I mentioned that I had hoped to drive the four of us to meet a fifth Ian, but if I had borrowed my brothers old car, which overheats in busy traffic, I could picture a scene when we breakdown in central London. When the police turn up to sort it out, imagine them asking who was driving...

"Name?"

"Ian Usher."

"And the others here? What's your name?"

"Ian Usher."

"Right! And you?"

"Ian Usher"

"Hmm, you?"

"Ian Usher"

"Right, you're all under arrest!!"

Eventually Ian (Bristol) had to leave to catch the coach home. Ian (London) was next to head for home, and Ian (Portsmouth) and I headed for the tube, and I dashed headlong onto mine which was just about to leave.

Unfortunately by then I was pretty drunk, we had had a good long afternoon and evening, and I did not check the destination of the train. I also did the late night comedy trick of falling asleep almost immediately.

The Piccadilly line splits into different directions before my brother's house, and when I woke I was at a station I had never heard of before. It took a few drunken minutes of studying the tube map before I figured where I had gone wrong. Fortunately trains were still running back towards the city, and I backtracked, and eventually managed to find my way home. Two hours to do a journey that should have been about 40 minutes!

I woke with a fine hangover this morning... I'm never drinking again, I promised myself, as I have done many times before, and am sure I will do again in the future!

I cannot thank the other three Ians enough for coming along to meet a group of strangers that possibly had nothing in common other than a name! It was great that we all got along so well, and had a great evening. I really do appreciate the efforts you all made to be there.

It is a shame that the goal was not completed, but the other three are still all keen to help me achieve it, and also secure the $2,500 charitable donation from Sir Richard Branson, so hopes are not yet dead.

Thank you Ians, a brilliant night!

###

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* * *

# Aboard the "Rainbow Warrior"

The best laid plans....

Saturday, July 11, 2009

5pm Sat 11th July: I had had some trouble in Pamplona while trying to book a bus ticket from Madrid to the Spanish southern port town of Algeceras. I had found a great website, that offered tickets at very competitive prices, and tried to make my booking to depart at 9pm from Madrid, travelling overnight, and arriving in Algeceras Port the next morning, my intended destination. This had the double advantage of costing only 28 Euros, and saving the cost of overnight accommodation. My Euros are running very low, and my UK money has run out, my bank account there now in the red!

But the website would only let me get as far as choosing my seat, then told me there had been an error, and to try again later. I tried many times throughout Thursday, and eventually gave up and rang the company direct. No, I couldn't book on the phone, I was told, use the website. Not working? Try a different computer.

I went to the local internet cafe, but had exactly the same trouble there. I tried both Firefox and Internet Explorer. I tried both the English and the Spanish versions of the website. No use. I tried all combinations on my laptop again, and still no luck.

Eventually I called back, and a very helpful chap tried to make the booking for me on his system, but we got to the credit card section, and my payment was rejected. No wonder, my account is in the red already! I gave up, and was convinced by the tele-agent that there would still be plenty of seats left when I got to Madrid on Saturday afternoon. I could phone the bus company direct, he suggested, but he didn't think anyone there would speak English, or I could just buy my ticket when I got to Madrid. I decided to take a gamble, and just catch my bus for Madrid on Saturday morning, and sort things out there. Surely there would be that many people heading south?

So things went well this morning, and after watching my final bull run from the balcony, I made my way to the bus station, and caught my planned bus without any dramas, arriving in Madrid mid afternoon, six hours before the departure of my bus. There was a huge queue at the ticket counter, and people were coming away looking very disappointed. I finally reached the front of the line. Sold out! No tickets left until tomorrow night. But if I am to achieve this next goal I have to be in Algeceras tomorrow morning! A typically-Spanish shrug of the shoulders was the helpful response I got. No other bus companies run an Algeceras service. Train? Not today, I was told, I was too late.

The battery was almost flat on the computer, and there was no wi-fi access to be found anywhere. I decided to head for the train station anyway, and see what I could find. After endless return visits to the information desk, I decided to take the train to Malaga on the south coast, and hope to find a bus from there, but time would be against me on the Sunday morning.

The train fare was a ghastly 82 Euros, three times the cost of the bus, and it still doesn't get me to where I want to be. It is fast though, arriving early evening, so I might still find a bus tonight. Once again my UK bank card was rejected, no funds available, so I had to pay using most of the last of my cash. As I write this I am on the train, no idea how to get from Malaga to Algeceras, nowhere planned to stay tonight, and 15 Euros in my pocket! Oh dear!

But I am trying to look on the bright side! At least there is power on the train, and I can recharge the laptop!

UPDATE - 10.30pm Sat 11th July:

Well things have taken a bit of a turn for the better since I wrote the last blog entry, and as I often seem to do, I have landed on my feet again, without too much of a financial impact. I arrived in Malaga in expensive comfort on the train, and found the bus station nearby. Buses were still running, and I bought a ticket to Algeciras, which left me with about 4 Euros.

I had a quick scrabble around in the pockets of both pairs of shorts, and in the side pockets of my rucsac, and came up with a couple of small notes, and a fistful of coins, and after buying a meal and coffee at the seedy bus station cafe, I still had a grand total of around 19 Euros left.

Believe it or not, about 100 metres from the bus station in Algeciras, where I arrived at 10pm, I spotted a hostel, which has a lovely single room for 14 Euros, leaving me just enough to get a coffee and half an hour online at the cafe next door.

I am now practically penniless for the moment, but believe I have everything in place to be able to achieve goal #50 tomorrow. I will worry about the next few days after that. More to follow...

Goal 50 - Greenpeace - persistence pays off.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

This morning the alarm on my mobile phone woke me again just after 6am. I have been hearing a little too much of that alarm recently! But this morning was going to be the only opportunity for the foreseeable future to achieve goal #50.

I have been quietly trying to organise this for many weeks now, and decided in early June, when I had a bit of spare time on my hands, to email Greenpeace, and find out the location of their flagship "Rainbow Warrior". I was surprised to receive two telephone calls almost straight away, one from Jane in the San Francisco office, and one from Oscar in head office at Amsterdam.

Oscar was keen to help me out, and told me that at the time the ship was docked at Seville in southern Spain, and was I free between 21st and 27th June? I certainly was, as that was just after my wingwalk and Ian Ushers night out, which were both scheduled for the 20th. I looked at return flights from the UK, and found that I would be able to go and return at a fairly reasonable cost. But Greenpeace plans changed unfortunately, and Rainbow Warrior had to move, and I missed out at the time.

Oscar sent me new schedules, and thought that there might be another opportunity to catch up with the ship in Malta around the 23rd of June. Flights would be a bit more expensive, but still within the budget, so I prepared to make my bookings. But Greenpeace plans changed again, and I would not be able to join them now in Malta, Oscar informed me.

The new schedule would give me a chance to catch the ship in Palma, on the Spanish Mediterranean island of Mallorca, but not until 3rd of July. This was the day before I was due to fly out of the UK to Biarritz near Pamplona, and so once again I researched flights. I would have to change the flight that I had booked, and fly instead to Mallorca, visit the ship on the 3rd, and then fly Mallorca to Madrid, and get the bus up to Pamplona. I could just do it, I thought.

But as the day drew nearer, I waited to get the go-ahead from Oscar, and eventually, while walking up one of the ten tors I climbed in Devon, Oscar called me. Believe it or not, he said, plans had changed again, and Rainbow Warrior would not be in Mallorca, but instead at Tarifa on the southern tip of mainland Spain. When I got back from my walk, I checked flights again on the internet, and thought all would work out well. I almost went ahead and booked, as Oscar was very confident. I'm glad I didn't!

That's right, plans changed again, and I would no longer be able to meet the ship at Tarifa now. I was practically at the point of giving up. In the end I headed for Pamplona as planned, and thought that it was a shame not to have achieved this goal, especially when I had the time on my hands to be able to do so.

While in Pamplona I tried to stay in contact with Oscar, and he eventually confirmed that the only dates he could get me on board the ship were 17th and 18th July, again in Palma, Mallorca. Oh dear! I had a ticket from London to Florida booked for the 16th, an underwater hotel booked for the 18th, a flight to Mexico on the 21st, a tour to Chichen Itza on the 22nd, and a flight to San Francisco on the 24th. Would I be able to change my plans, Oscar wondered. Erm, I don't think so!

Oscar also put me in touch with Marta, the Spanish Greenpeace press officer. I think he was as frustrated by the endless changes as I was. I now asked Marta where the Rainbow Warrior would be prior to the 15th, and she told me there would be only one opportunity to meet it, on the morning of the 12th at Algeciras, for only a few hours as it made preparations to move on again.

And so after a long journey, fraught with changes, as detailed in my previous blog, I finally arrived in Algeciras last night at 10pm, and this morning headed out to find the ship.

It was a beautiful quiet morning as I strode along the deserted breakwater of the huge port, and just before 8am, I found the Rainbow Warrior.

I met Marta, and was taken aboard, and she showed me around the deck area. I was so happy to have made it, and finally get aboard. We chatted for a while, and I was introduced to several of the crew. Marta handed me over to Isabel, another Spanish press officer, as she had to go to a meeting, and we headed below decks. The ship seems to be incredibly well organised, and everything has a place and a system.

For a while I was allowed to wander happily on my own, and looked around the wheelhouse, and examined the iconic rigid-inflatables that are considered to be one of the best-known images of Greenpeace's work. They are called Avon, Hurricane, and Novi I and Novi II.

I chatted to several others of the crew, and Mehdi, who is chief mechanic asked if I wanted to give him a hand with some maintenance he needed to do. I jumped at the opportunity, happy that I would be able to say that I worked aboard the Rainbow Warrior, even if only for half an hour. By now it was lunchtime, and Marta came to find me, laughing that I had already been put to work. Apparently you can't sit around on Rainbow Warrior for too long without being given something to do.

After lunch I took a final quick look around with Marta, snapped some final photos, and said my goodbyes. Ah, but I wasn't going as soon as I thought. Spanish national TV station TVE are filming a documentary on board, and wanted to interview me about my reasons for this being one of my goals.

I told them about how impressed I am by the incredibly brave work Greenpeace do down in the southern oceans every southern summer, when the Japanese come to slaughter the humpback whales there, and how I have been a supporter now for several years. I was also interested in seeing the Rainbow Warrior, because it is actually the second ship bearing that name. The first one was bombed and sunk in Auckland harbour in New Zealand in 1985, by the French secret service, as at the time Greenpeace were protesting French nuclear tests. On board the current Rainbow Warrior I saw the ship's bell and a pair of binoculars that had come from the original ship.

I got a picture taken with the film crew, and by then one of the most interesting items on board had been uncovered. Dave, the wooden dolphin on the front deck was built by crew members, and is rumoured to contain a secret. Some say it is a message for the world, others think it is a bottle of rum. Marta imagines that it is both of these.

The whole visit was very interesting, and I got a little bit of the sense of family aboard the ship from some of the crew I met. I feel very honoured to have been offered the opportunity to achieve this goal, and once again, in a manner much exceeding my expectations.

Thanks to Oscar and Marta for putting up with my endless emails, when I am sure they had much more important things to deal with. And thanks to all the others I met on board for taking the time to show me around and make me feel so welcome - Isabel, Mehdi, Elvira, and everyone else I spoke to. Thank you all.

I will not even try to explain any of the current campaigns that Greenpeace are working on, or that Rainbow Warrior in particular is involved in. Their website will do a far better job than I ever could. Take a look here, and should you feel it worthwhile, feel free to offer them your support.

Finally I would like to finish with something that I just learned today - how the Rainbow Warrior got it's name. It comes from a quote from native American Cree Indians, which reads as follows:

"When the world is sick and dying, the people will rise up like Warriors of the Rainbow..."

The Cree Indian symbol is proudly displayed on board.

###

Click here to return to Table of Contents

* * *

# A LIFE SOLD

What ever happened to that guy who

sold his whole life on eBay?

What on earth would make someone decide to put their whole life up for sale... on eBay?

When Ian Usher decided that it was time to leave the past behind and move on to the next chapter of his life, that is exactly what he did. The results were surprising, entertaining and challenging.

However, the auction was only the beginning of the adventure. What does someone do when they have sold their life? Well, just about anything they like really!

Armed with a list of 100 lifetime goals, and a self-imposed timeframe of 100 weeks, Ian embarked on what could truly be described as the journey of a lifetime – a global adventure spanning six continents, two years, and almost every emotion.

From the amazing highs of achievement, happiness and love, to the terrible lows of disappointment, loneliness and despair, come along and enjoy the rollercoaster ride of life, as experienced by one traveller who is simply looking for a new start.

Review for "A Life Sold" by "RunsWithScissors" on Amazon.com:-

"I sat down to read this book thinking I would just start it, but could not put it down! I read the entire book in one sitting. When I was done, I felt that I had traveled around the world with Ian, and was better for it. I cheered with him, cried with him, and relived the joy of healing from a broken heart. I was inspired. The book is framed around Ian's goals, but really it's about so much more. The very thing that catapulted Ian into action worldwide is what brought him such joy in the end, with a hell of a journey along the way.

The writing flows well, is accessible and enjoyable with just enough detail. I felt I was along for the ride, and was welcomed to join in the fun, just as Ian so freely shared his goals with so many others. The goals are interesting and enjoyable, and the people Ian meets are just as much fun as the goals. I felt I shared parts of my bucket list with Ian, and although he beat me to it, his accounts invite me to feel heroic and relaxed enough to follow. (Except, I'll never run with the bulls!) There are lots of good travel tips. The book reads in parts like a helpful TripTik, and is very informative about details that matter.

The book reminds us that life is not as much about the destination as it is about the journey, that we are all more alike than different, and that anything done with good intentions and an open heart can't be wrong. Oh, and there's a very happy ending. Expect tears again. It's a good thing."

Review for "A Life Sold" by "theglobalguy" on Amazon.com:-

"I met Ian in Nepal when he and I happened to be on the same trek to Everest Base Camp. I had a vague recollection of the story of the guy who put his entire life up on E-bay, and was amazed at the coincidence that would bring that guy into my own life. Ian was a joy to travel with, and his stories of his adventures kept me laughing and entertained through our two week journey. When he told me that he was thinking of turning the entire adventure into a book, I couldn't wait to read it. Well, now that the book is published, I'm pleased to have been able to finally read about his back story, previous adventures, and the events that followed his and my adventure together.

The book is well written, with a combination of blog entries and personal narration. Switching between the styles is easy on the brain, and never feels disruptive to the narrative. His writing is laid back, funny, and very personal at times. This is a person who has had more than his share of personal challenges, and been able to find the good in everything. It's a great testimony to the human spirit, and the tendency of humankind to help a traveler, no matter where he hails from."

You can read an excerpt from "A Life Sold" at the end of this eBook by clicking here.

# Submit your own travels stories for publication...?

Well, I hope you enjoyed these airborne tales. They are all taken from my two-year, round-the-world, goal-achieving adventure, chronicled in the book "A Life Sold". If you want to read more about my adventures, as well as the other, less adrenaline-fuelled goals, I suggest you take a look at the book. The book also tells the much more personal story of what prompted this radical adventure, and where the adventure eventually took me.

If you have any amazing travel tales of your own, please feel free to email them to me. I am currently working on the next edition in the "Amazing Travel Experiences" series of books, which will be an anthology of tales from other travellers.

YOUR AMAZING TRAVEL EXPERIENCES

Do you have any travel stories or adventures you would like to see published in future releases?

Further info here:

Your Amazing Travel Experiences

If you have any questions, or stories to submit, please get in touch by using the Wider Vision Publishing Contact form.

I hope your adventures and travels are as amazing and rewarding as mine were.

Happy travels,

Ian

# More adventure travel books

If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com, or to your favourite online book retailer for more books from Wider Vision Publishing.

ADVENTURE TRAVEL

16 stories from a world traveller hoping to provide little

inspiration for your next travel adventure.

MORE ADVENTURE TRAVELS

11 more stories of worldwide adventure to further

inspire you towards your own travel goals

ADVENTURES IN THE AIR

14 high-flying tales of airborne adventure to inspire

your travelling spirit to soar.

ADVENTURES UNDERWATER

10 watery tales of excitement under the sea to whet

your appetite for your own travel adventures.

AMAZING TRAVEL EXPERIENCES

15 more stories from one world traveller hoping to provide little

inspiration for your next travel adventure.

MORE AMAZING TRAVEL EXPRIENCES

13 more globe-trotting travel stories to inspire

you to kick-start your own adventure

TRAVEL TIPS

17 travel tips to help you save money, and make your

next adventure less stressful and more enjoyable.

and COMING SOON from Wider Vision Publishing:-

YOUR AMAZING TRAVEL EXPERIENCES

Do you have any travel stories or adventures you

would like to see published in future releases?

More info here:-

Submit your own travel stories for publication...?

A polite reminder:-

In return for this (hopefully!!) interesting, inspiring and informative content, I would ask one small favour. If you have enjoyed this Kindle book I would be extremely grateful if you could take just a minute to provide a short, honest review for it at whatever location you downloaded it from.

Once again, your support is much appreciated.

Happy travels.

Ian

# Excerpt from "A Life Sold"

**Prologue**

View From A Bridge

I stood quietly on the bridge above the dark empty freeway, looking down at the smooth tarmac below. In the distance behind me I could hear the engine of a large truck as it approached at speed. I looked around and saw the lights heading my way, and thought grimly to myself, "This is it. This one is yours."

I would have to get the timing just right. If I jumped too early I would land on the freeway below, probably breaking both legs. That would hurt, but only for a short time, until the truck hit. Wait a minute though! What if I jumped early enough for the truck driver to see me, giving him time to react? What if he somehow managed to miss me? All I would have achieved would be a collection of broken bones, and more misery to pile on top of what I already knew was coming.

I would need to delay my jump as long as possible. Perfect timing would mean I'd hit the ground at the instant the truck reached the impact point, bringing the instant relief of endless darkness. But what if I delayed just a little too long? The truck was heading south, and I was on the south side of the bridge, facing south too. The truck would be out of sight as it passed under the bridge below me. Timing my jump was going to be tricky, as for a second or two I would not know exactly where the thundering juggernaut was. If I jumped too late I had visions of landing on the cab roof, and then bouncing along the top of the container, before falling off the back end into the road. There was a good chance I might survive that, and lay broken on the road, again to face pain and misery.

I should have planned this a little better. But how? If I stood on the north side of the bridge, facing the on-coming truck, the driver might possibly spot me climbing onto the parapet, preparing to jump. Would he be able to avoid me? Probably not, but I wasn't sure.

Maybe I should be down at the side of the freeway, hidden in the bushes. I could just run out at the appropriate moment, without having to consider the pain of broken bones from a poorly timed jump.

What about the driver? How would he cope with the aftermath of such an event? I don't imagine it would be easy to come to terms with something like that, even if one is completely blameless.

Good grief, if I was going to be such a coward about the whole thing, I should perhaps resort to the much less painful bottle of paracetamol tablets washed down with a bottle of whiskey. Ah, but I wouldn't want to wake up in hospital having my stomach pumped.

All of this, and more, flashed through my mind in the few short seconds as the truck closed the distance between us. The moment of truth approached.

I watched the truck pass below me and didn't make a move. The real truth was that I knew I was never going to go through with anything like this. My mind was simply whirling quickly through a theoretical set of scenarios that might provide an easy escape route from what was to come.

With a heavy heart I turned my cycle around, and began pedalling back up the cycle track alongside the freeway. I knew there were some long dark months ahead, despite the approach of another hot bright Australian summer.
PART 1

ALife4Sale

Chapter 1

A New Start

Two years later, in November 2007 I looked back at the challenges with which life had recently presented me, and decided it was time to make some changes. I needed a new start and I had a plan. I was going to sell my life!

The previous two years had taken my soon-to-be-sold life in a new direction, one which had completely taken me by surprise. I had never imagined working in the job I was now doing, and the life I was now living was so far removed from my expectations of two years earlier.

At that time, towards the end of 2005, life had been progressing nicely, according to a semi-structured plan. In November that year my wife and I celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary, inviting all our friends to a big party in the lovely house we had built together in the outer suburbs of Perth in beautiful, sun-kissed Western Australia.

But only days later my life was knocked violently off-course, when I discovered that my wife had met someone else, and told me that she no longer loved me.

After a traumatic few months we had separated. During those dark, lonely, early days I thought a lot about the incredibly happy past I had shared with Laura. I struggled to understand how it could have all gone so horribly wrong, without ever spotting, until it was much too late, a single sign that anything was amiss.

\---

I suppose my journey through life up to this point hadn't quite been the usual progression that most people follow, from school to college, to an entry level job in a chosen field, and then onward up the career ladder.

I did go to college eventually, but only after taking a year off between leaving school and finally settling down to further my education. I had managed to secure a place at Liverpool Polytechnic, where I would be learning how to teach outdoor activities. However, keen to see some of the world first, I deferred entry for a year. During that year I worked in a factory to save some money, and then travelled with one of my school buddies. We went to live on a kibbutz in Israel, where I worked in all sorts of jobs, as a foreign volunteer sharing the life of the community. Afterwards we travelled through Egypt, and then to Greece, where we bought a very cheap car, and drove back home via several European countries.

A short, but well-paid second summer in the local sign-making factory paid off my debts before college. I thoroughly enjoyed my years in Liverpool, but never wanted to work as a teacher in a school, my experiences in teaching practice convincing me of that. Eventually I settled in a job working for British Rail for a couple of years. I worked in their residential outdoor activities facility in the north-east of England, teaching their youth trainees skills such as communication, co-operation, teamwork, and leadership.

But a couple of years later boredom started to creep in and I decided to make a change. Inspired by a couple of friends who seemed to be making a very good living dealing in second-hand cars, I left British Rail, and moved into the small terraced house I had just bought.

Over the following years I managed to do fairly well, making a living doing the odd bit of freelance outdoor training work, dealing in cars and motorcycles, and trying my hand at several other ideas and businesses that looked like they might turn an easy profit.

In those years I managed to make a fairly decent living, but I could see that I was never going to become rich unless one of the many businesses I tried became a runaway success. As a means of self-motivation I started to make a list of things I would like to do, places I would like to see, and possessions I would like to own when lack of money was no longer an obstacle.

It was while on holiday in Kenya that I stumbled upon the sport that was to shape the next few years of my life. This new direction would eventually lead to meeting my wife, and ultimately moving half way around the world.

In partnership with my life-long friend and motor trading buddy, Bruce, I set up and then ran "Scarborough Jet Skiing" for five fantastic summer seasons. We hired out jet skis to holidaymakers at the beach, and sold new and second-hand skis. We also sold accessories, did some servicing and repair work, and sold a range of beach toys too. The north-east coast of England doesn't have a very long summer, so when the weather was good we worked all the hours we could, seven days a week. That didn't stop us enjoying life to the full, and in 1993, during the second summer on the beach, the most fantastic person I have ever met walked up to our caravan, and into my life.

Laura and I maintained a long-distance relationship for a couple of years, seeing each other as often as we could, and eventually she came to live with me for the summer season of 1996. The next year she finished college and moved over from Manchester to live with me permanently.

During the off-seasons, when it was too cold to run the jet skis, and later, after we sold the jet ski business at the end of the 1996 summer season, Bruce and I had tried a few other businesses. These had included cycle hire, wedding cars, and magazine publishing. None of them had offered the same success or fun of the beach.

I worked for the local council at the outdoor swimming pool for the 1998 summer season, the job being relatively easy to get because of both my background in outdoor activities, and my recent experience of dealing with the public in a watersports business. This ultimately led on to a fulltime job at the indoor swimming pool.

During this time Laura and I took our first trip to Australia, where her mother had been born and raised. Laura had dual nationality. Having been born in England she was registered as British, but was also registered as Australian due to her mother's nationality. She had a grandmother, aunties and uncles, and several cousins in Australia that she had never met. We spent six glorious weeks in the Southern Hemisphere summer as England's chilly winter held its grip back at home.

The following year we took our second trip, and were with friends in Sydney for New Years Eve 1999, which was enormous fun. Having thoroughly enjoyed both of our extended visits, we decided that we would perhaps like to go and live there.

Back in England we considered our options. We had often told each other that we both expected to be together for the rest of our lives, and the subject of marriage came up easily. We wanted to be together, we wanted to move to Australia, and we decided that after seven years together, we wanted to be married.

The big day was early in November 2000, and we couldn't have asked for better weather. It was a beautiful cold, crisp, blue-sky autumn day. The wedding ceremony at the registry office was simple, and afterwards Bruce took us up to Oliver's Mount in his van – we hadn't bothered with the expense of fancy wedding cars, saving our money for our future move to Australia. Lunch was in a Chinese restaurant, followed by an afternoon pub crawl down through the town centre to the seafront.

After dark at the beach we had everyone meet and bring along fireworks, enjoying a wonderful, but completely disorganised display. One of Laura's friends had brought along her new boyfriend, who was in the army. He had already thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon pub crawl, and provided great entertainment crawling around on the sand trying drunkenly to light more fireworks as others exploded in wild colours around him. It looked like a battle scene from some sort of psychedelic war movie as he belly-crawled from one firework to the next, and it was amazing that he didn't have to be whisked away to the casualty ward.

The reception took place in a town centre social club, and we had booked an Irish cèilidh band to play, which meant everyone could join in for some well organised Irish-style barn-dancing.

It was such a wonderful day, and I couldn't have been happier, knowing that I was now married to the person that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

A year later, after several more jobs, including working as manager of a mobile phone shop, a collector for a finance company, and a labourer on a building site, we sold pretty-much everything we owned. We said goodbye to all our friends and family, and moved halfway around the world to make a fresh start together.

We soon settled into our new life, and absolutely loved Perth, warm and sunny, on the beautiful Indian Ocean on the west coast of Australia.

We lived in a wonderful shared-accommodation house almost on the beach for our first year there, and then rented our own smaller unit in nearby Scarborough, namesake of the English coastal town where we had shared much of the previous seven years.

Australia offered a good life, and although my first foray into business there, renting deckchairs on the beach at Scarborough was doomed to failure, we both found great jobs, and lived a nice, easy-going life together.

Another eighteen months later, after much research, we took the plunge and bought our first piece of land, and built our first Australian home. The house, finished just less than three years after our arrival in the country, was like a dream come true. It was bigger and nicer than anything we could have ever have afforded back in England, and we worked hard together to create a fantastic home and garden. We had a few parties there, always enjoyed by our growing group of friends, and the pool table in the huge living room was always a central attraction.

Our longer term plan had always been to make this house the first stepping stone on our journey to planned financial freedom. Our goal was to end up in a home completely mortgage-free, our target time being within a period of five years. With completed homes often being worth around 25% more than the combined land and build price, the house had already gone up in value. We had also chosen the land well, and houses in our suburb had increased in value even further.

Our next step had been to look for another block of land to repeat the process. Our plan was to build our next house there, to move into that as soon as it completed, and to sell the first house at the same time.

In our next chosen suburb, land was selling well, and we had to queue overnight, sleeping in our cars in order to secure the block of land upon which we had set our hearts. It was in this queue that we met Andy, another expat Brit now enjoying the sunny Perth lifestyle, also trying to benefit from the on-going property boom.

Little did I suspect that this chance meeting would be the catalyst that would irrevocably alter my relationship with my wife and send my semi-planned life careering off the rails less than a year later.

I had my suspicions that something was going on, but could never have imagined the full devastating reality of discovering that Laura had fallen for someone else. That night, when life blindsided me, I cycled away from our home, and without ever planning to, had found myself on the bridge over the freeway. For the first time in my life I fully understood the awful decision and devastating action some people choose when life's terrible surprises come calling. I chose to cycle home and face the future.

Laura claimed it was all a huge mistake and said I was the one she wanted to be with. We decided that we would try to forget what had happened, and move on with our lives. No one else knew our situation, or needed to, I suggested. Laura assured me that all contact with Andy had been severed.

For a while we had tried to get our life together back on course. But a couple of difficult months later it was apparent that all was not well between us. When I discovered that Laura had seen Andy again, I confronted her about it, and she told me she thought that perhaps she no longer loved me.

I was heart-broken, and the following terrible weeks were filled with endless arguments, recriminations and blame. Laura still didn't seem to know what she wanted to do, but after more talks and a painful visit to a marriage guidance counsellor, her wavering indecision ended. It was clear that we had no future together. I was utterly devastated. In that one horrible moment I realised that my whole future had finally been stripped from me, and I faced a bleak, unknown darkness ahead.

Our current work and financial situations meant that the most practical decision was that I should move out. We decided to sell the house immediately, split the money, and go our separate ways.

Somehow we managed to do this without recourse to lawyers, and although on paper it all sounds very civilised and easy, there were weeks of arguments, tears, regrets, and sorrow. I hated every minute of it, and although I had fought with everything I had to try to save our marriage, I knew I had now lost her. I had to accept her final decision and move on.

\---

During those miserable first weeks after our separation, as well as wondering where it had all gone wrong, I also did a lot of thinking about what I wanted to do next. I made some decisions of my own. I had been working at the same shop for the past three years, acting as a rug salesman, and eventually as assistant manager, at the family-owned business. At the age of 42 it was officially the longest job I had ever had – I tend to get bored pretty easily working in one place, and like to challenge myself to take on new roles and learn new skills.

One of the main decisions I took involved my immediate future. If one huge part of my life in Perth had changed completely, then I could not simply continue in the same job, and live a shadowy half-hearted version of my previous life. It was time to leave my job, and do something completely new!

I also needed to earn quite a lot more than I was currently earning, as when we had separated, Laura and I had decided that we would sell the house we had been sharing. We agreed that I would take over ownership of the new block of land we had bought the year before. I would make all payments on it, in addition to all payments for the house-build that was due to commence there very soon.

After talking to a few friends, I decided to follow the path that many others in Western Australia chose when they needed to earn more money, and enter the mining industry. I had no relevant experience at all, but didn't really see this as a big hurdle. I started taking truck driving lessons in order to get the driving license that I would need to drive the monster trucks used in the mines.

I soon had the license I required, and handed my notice in at the rug shop, having already started to apply for dump truck driving jobs. The way a lot of mining works in Western Australia is on what is called a "fly-in fly-out" basis. This means that you live in Perth, but fly in to a remote mine site to work, and then fly back out for your time off. This most common work pattern is a "2 on, 1 off" roster, meaning that you fly in and work for two weeks, usually 7 day shifts and 7 night shifts, then fly home for a week off.

As the end of my time at the shop drew closer I had not yet found a job. It appeared that companies were reluctant to take on new people, often referred to as "greenies", for a fly-in fly-out position. Many of the agencies which I approached explained that companies generally did not take greenies as they were unsure of how newcomers would handle the work conditions. They did not want the expense of training someone new, only to find that the trainee hated the job, and left shortly afterwards. Employers wanted people with previous experience.

Following a couple of weeks of fruitless unemployment, I took a friend's advice, and packed my car with the few belongings I had that were not stored away. At the time I was staying in a borrowed apartment near the beach, the completion date for my new house was still about six months away, and I had no other ties. After a few farewell drinks in the local pub with some friends, I packed the last of my meagre belongings into the car, and hit the road early the next morning, heading east out of Perth.

Kalgoorlie lies about six hours drive away from Perth, in the middle of the desert, and exists mainly because of the huge open pit goldmine there. I drove into town on 4th July 2006 knowing nobody, with nowhere to stay, and no promise of a job at all.

However, things went very well for me there and within 48 hours I had a small but comfortable room, and a job driving a machine called a slag hauler, working in the local nickel smelter. The job also involved driving a nice Mercedes tipper truck with a decent auto gearbox, and an older tipper truck with a very cranky manual gearbox that took a lot of practice to use smoothly. I had to learn a lot of new skills very quickly.

It took me a while to get used to working strange new rosters and hours, and having to cope with night shift work too. During this time I kept pestering the Human Resources guy at the Superpit recruitment office to get me the job that I really wanted – trainee dump truckie in the huge open pit gold mine right at the edge of town.

I would often go to the lookout and gaze down into the pit, watching the huge trucks go around and around. One day soon, I thought, I hope to be driving one of them. Less than five weeks later, I was offered a trainee position as a driver there, handed my notice in at the nickel smelter, and went to start my new career!

The trucks are absolutely enormous and the training was very challenging, but I loved it. At times it was very frustrating, and I made plenty of mistakes, as did many of the other greenies there. But because this was one of the only places in the country that took on trainees, there were quite a few of us to share the mistakes around. Many of us had drifted into town from elsewhere to learn to drive these monster trucks, and I found myself working with a great group of people, all going through the same challenging learning curve.

After the first three months or so I found that the work was now much easier. The twelve-hour shifts did not seem so long, and night shift did not seem so bad. Handling the truck was pretty-much second nature too, and now many of us found that we could drive around, listen to the two-way radio, the FM radio, pour a cup of coffee and eat an apple all at the same time – well, almost!

Every second week, at the end of our block of dayshifts, the whole crew would all head to the pub after work. A few of us who had started around the same time together would laugh about how difficult it had all seemed at first, and share stories of some of the dumb things we had done, and still did occasionally.

It was a simple life, filled with hard work, but also filled with a lot of laughter and a huge amount of fun. I met some great people there, some of whom I know will be friends for the rest of my life.

For me it was also a very important part of my healing process. Living out in Kalgoorlie, with a totally new group of people, meant that nobody knew my past, so it was never mentioned. Long days sat in a truck with just my own thoughts meant that I had time to start to come to terms with the huge, unexpected upheaval in my life.

I spent a total of five months working in the Superpit, and absolutely loved it, but by the end I was ready to go back to Perth. I missed being by the ocean too much, and I missed my friends back in Perth too. I had a final date for completion of my house, and I had enough experience to get a fly-in fly-out job. This would pay more money, and in my personal circumstances, would suit me much better, I thought.

Just before Christmas 2006, a little over a year after my awful marital discovery, I moved back to Perth, and into the newly completed house that Laura and I had designed together. We had planned to live there together for a year or so as the next step on our journey towards financial freedom. Now, as I moved the furniture that we had shared in our previous home into place, I felt utterly alone.

For the past five months I really hadn't needed to confront too directly the huge loss, but now being surrounded by all of the reminders from my past, I had to face head-on the gaping hole that Laura's departure had left in my life.

I hated it! I didn't like being in the house alone. I missed my friends in Kalgoorlie, and the easy camaraderie we had shared as a group. I felt trapped in this new place, a reminder of everything that had once been, of all that I had hoped and believed was to come, and I hated it. I couldn't simply sell up and move on. To avoid Capital Gains Tax, Australian law stipulates that a house has to be your main home for a period of twelve months before you can sell. This had always been our original idea. We had planned to live in this place for a year while we bought the next piece of land, and built the next step of our dream.

I didn't feel like I had much choice, and had to accept that I would have to stick it out for a year. I had already landed a mining job that would mean I was only at home for one week out of three, the other two weeks being up on site in the desert far to the north. I would manage somehow.

Over the next few weeks I made the place my own, turning it into quite a nice bachelor pad with the addition of a large-screen home theatre system and an outdoor hot tub. I bought myself a motorbike, something I had always loved when I had lived in England, but had never had in the five years I had been in Australia. Slowly the house started to feel a bit more like home, although still filled with reminders of a past that was now long-gone.

I started dating again, and met Mel, who was originally French, but had lived in Perth for the past fourteen years. She was in much the same position as I was, although she was officially divorced and had two girls. I was only separated and had no kids to tie me down. We got on pretty well, and started an easy-going relationship about fourteen months after my separation from Laura.

\---

Around the time I met Mel I started my new job, and flew up for my first shift at the end of January 2007. I had landed a great contract, working a 13/8 roster, made up of 6 day shifts, 7 night shifts, and then 8 days off. My flights up and back would earn me frequent flyer points, all food was provided on site, and the pay was significantly better than Kalgoorlie. At the mine site accommodation village there was a canteen, a bar, internet room, a large swimming pool, gym, squash courts and a few other sports facilities. I had really landed on my feet, and soon settled in to the new job.

Since everything was provided for two weeks out of three, and I was being well paid for the long shifts I was working, over the following months I managed to make a fairly significant reduction in my mortgage.

It wasn't all easy sailing though. The work could be hot and boring, and the 12 hour shifts could really drag sometimes, particularly the nights, when it could be a real battle just to keep your eyes open. I missed the easy friendship of the group I had worked with in Kalgoorlie. I made plenty of new friends at Telfer, but because everyone had different lives, and lived in different places in a bigger city, somehow it was not the same as the close-knit little community I had enjoyed in Kal.

One advantage (or disadvantage, depending on how you looked at it) was that you got plenty of thinking time as you drove endlessly up and down in the huge open pit. I really found that I quite liked it, often happy to turn the radio off for long stretches at a time, and think my own thoughts. I always carried a notebook and pen to write any ideas down, or work out finances for some new business plan.

As the year progressed, life continued in a fairly uncomplicated fashion. I would fly off to work and be away for two weeks at a time, and then return for a week. I became happier in my house as I made it more like my own personal bachelor pad, and I enjoyed spending time with Mel and her two girls.

However, as the end of the year approached, I started to think about selling the house. Prices were high, and it was looking increasingly like the market may have reached a high point. I didn't feel like the time was right to buy another piece of land, as it all seemed to be very much over-valued. And to be honest, without Laura, my heart really was no longer in the long-term plan we had shared.

\---

So there I was, in late 2007, sat in a dump truck in a gold mine in the far north of Western Australia, having spent a large part of the previous ten months driving around the same hole in the ground. I had been in my new house for almost a year, and could now sell it without financial penalty. I started to think about my future, and what I might like to do next.

I really didn't want to stay working in the mine during the approaching southern summer, as temperatures would be extreme in the desert. I had worked long and hard, had paid a good chunk off my mortgage. I fancied a bit of a break, and perhaps some travel and adventure.

I made the decision to sell the house. Although a lot happier living there now, the house and its contents still provided a strong, and sometimes saddening reminder of a previous life, and although I felt that I was adjusting well, I wanted to complete the moving-on process, and this required getting rid of the house. It also made great financial sense, as I had paid quite a bit off the mortgage, and the house value had shot up quite dramatically over the year since completion. I would therefore be able to release a good nest egg of cash. One idea I had was perhaps to buy a big motorhome, and travel the country a bit. Perhaps I would work in a mine for six months of the year, over the winter, and then travel for six months each summer. Financially this would be quite viable once the house sold.

What would I do with the furniture, I wondered? Perhaps I could sell it all with the house, offering a fully furnished package. But I also had a car, and a motorbike, and I was considering buying a jet ski for the coming summer too. What would I do with all of them? Maybe I could include them as part of one big lifestyle package?

It hit me suddenly! I remembered an idea my old friend Bruce had had many years before. He must have had a particularly bad day at work, and came stomping into the pub, saying, "That's it, I'm going to get rid of the lot! The business, the car, the house, everything! I am going to sell my life!" He explained that the idea had just come to him. He would advertise the whole package in the Sunday newspapers, as he reckoned that despite the occasional bad day, he had a pretty enviable lifestyle.

However, when he checked the price of a full page advert in a national Sunday newspaper (this was long before the days of the internet) he was a bit disheartened, and he let his idea fall by the wayside.

Now, fifteen or more years later, as I drove my truck down the main pit ramp, the idea solidified into a plan. "That's what I am going to do! Sell my life! I'll include the job too, and will include an introduction to some friends. That's brilliant! How and where will I sell it? Auction it on eBay, of course!"

\---

When I returned to Perth for my next week off I ran the idea past three good friends, whose opinions I valued. I was surprised and encouraged by the results. Two of them thought it was a fantastic idea, one going as far as saying that she could imagine doing the same thing right now herself, as it was exactly how she felt. The third opinion was exactly the opposite, wondering in disbelief how anyone could possibly consider leaving behind everything they had worked so hard to build up.

I thought that if the idea could produce such strong opposing opinions, then there would be the chance to get some publicity for the project, which I knew I would need for the idea to be a success. If I had received three indifferent responses I would have probably abandoned the idea there and then.

I didn't take any immediate action, but let the idea stew a bit, and back at work jotted down ideas and thoughts as I drove up and down the ramps. The idea seemed to be one that just would not go away though.

In December I handed my notice in at work, and flew home after my last shift on Christmas Eve. I had decided to take at least a couple of months off, and between Christmas and New Year I went shopping for a small campervan. I trawled the backpacker hostel adverts boards, and soon found what I wanted. A Swedish traveller was selling the Toyota Hiace camper that had taken her and her friend around Australia for the past six months, and I bought myself a bargain.

I spent the months of January and February on an extended trip across Australia from west to east, on the way calling in to visit old friends in Kalgoorlie, and skydiving at as many different dropzones as I could find on the way. Over the past five years skydiving had become my sport of choice, and I tried to jump as often as I could.

On the journey across the huge open spaces of the country that I had come to call home, I thought a lot more about the "life for sale" idea. I met up with Mel and her kids and we travelled together for a few days, discussing the idea in much detail. Mel embraced the idea with enthusiasm, encouraging me to consider it more seriously.

I finally made the decision that I was going to go ahead. It would be fun, I thought, and might just raise a bit more than selling the house and contents separately, if I managed to get enough publicity.

Mel offered to help me create the website, and between us we mapped out a rough design. I bought and registered the website www.ALife4Sale.com. During a week-long stay with friends in Melbourne I started to write some of the content for the site, while Mel, back in Perth, started putting a website together, inserting my content as I wrote it.

I needed a date to provide a framework and timescale, and decided to aim for a seven day auction period finishing at the end of June, which is the end of the financial year in Australia. It was a pretty arbitrary choice, and when I looked at a calendar and saw that the 30th of June was a Monday, I decided that it might be better to end the auction on Sunday 29th. This meant the start date for the auction would be the 22nd.

I had decided to have a 100 day countdown from the launch of the website to the start of the auction. This was for two reasons. Firstly I thought that it may take a couple of months to build up a bit of publicity for what I was about to do, and secondly I was looking for a serious buyer, and I wanted to give someone time to sort out their finances, and perhaps even visas if they were from further afield than Australia.

I thought a lot about who might be a potential purchaser of the package I was putting together, and imagined several possible scenarios. Perhaps a Perth-based property investor might be interested in the package as a buy-to-let, already furnished and ready for a tenant. When we bought the land we had chosen well, as the house was in a pleasant location, with a nice westerly outlook over a natural bushland reserve, but was also an easy five minute walk to a train station on the newly completed southern railway line.

Perhaps someone from the other side of Australia might be interested in buying a ready-to-move-into lifestyle, particularly if they were coming over to join in the huge West Australian resources boom that was still pushing up house prices, and offering fantastic wages in the mines.

Maybe someone emigrating from abroad might be tempted in the same way by a ready-made lifestyle. Perth has an ever-expanding population, as more and more people realise what a wonderful place it is to live.

Over the next few days, while I had good access to an internet connection at my friends' house in Melbourne, the website really started to take shape, and I started to get very excited about the whole idea. As a practical way of selling everything at once it was brilliant, I thought. It would be a great experience and a lot of fun too.

We came up with the skeleton of the website over the course of five or six days, and I thought it looked pretty good. I continued my journey to Sydney in the campervan, where I did may last bit of skydiving for the journey. I sold the campervan, and flew back to Perth. I was now fully committed to the idea of selling my life, and was keen to get on with it.

We had about two weeks to complete the website, and worked pretty much flat-out to make it as good as we possibly could. We took many pictures of the inside and outside of the house, and all its contents. We took pictures of the car, and the motorbike, the hot-tub and the home entertainment system.

There was a lot of cleaning and tidying involved, and many times as we took pictures, there was a pile of junk just outside the frame, which was shuffled from room to room as we progressed.

On the website itself we included a guestbook and a voting page, where people could make comments or become involved by expressing their opinion on the whole idea. We also built in a bulletin board page where there could be some back and forth discussion on the matter too.

I still was unsure whether we were building something that nobody would ever see, or whether I might be successful in creating some publicity for the forthcoming auction.

I made the decision that if I was going to do this, I was going to do it properly, and leave absolutely everything behind. On the website, I stated that when I was paid by the new buyer, I would walk out of the house with nothing other than one set of clothes, and my wallet and passport.

I knew that I had to get as much publicity as possible for the auction, and spoke to my friend Simon, who lives in London, and works as a freelance reporter. I asked him what he thought the best approach would be to let people know what I was up to. He suggested that he could write a press release aimed at the UK newspapers, focusing on the fact that I was an expat Brit now living in Australia. If it makes it to a UK national newspaper, he explained, it would probably be picked up all around the world. "You may even get to do something on local radio," he suggested, and I thought publicity like that would be fantastic.

Many years before, I had written a book about how my wife and I had met. It was hand-written, and had only ever been intended for an audience of one. It told the story of how back in 1989, Bruce and I had started racing motorcycle road race sidecars together, and how we had eventually set up the jet ski hire business. There had been some very funny moments, and some great achievements.

I wrote about how one day in 1993, the person who was to become my wife walked up to our caravan on the beach, and stepped into my life. I described how we started our relationship, and some of the struggles and challenges we had faced.

I had thoroughly enjoyed the process of telling our unusual tale, even though the book would only ever have one reader. I had re-read it when it was complete, and thought it told the story very well, expressing how I felt about this wonderful person that had come into my life.

The next weekend that Laura and I were together, we drove up to Oliver's Mount, where we would stand together several years later on the day we married, and I handed the book to her, incredibly proud of what I had created. I truly believed we would happily spend the rest of our days together. Laura suggested that perhaps one day we might show the book to our grandchildren.

Eventually, of course, seven years after we met, we had married, and made the decision to start a new life together in Australia.

Five years later, as the relationship crumbled before my eyes, during one teary discussion about what had changed, I pointed out the book, and asked, "But what about that? What about all that we had to go through, all that we had to fight for to be together? That book says everything that I can't find the right words to say right now. What about all that?"

The devastating answer I had received was, "That doesn't mean anything now."

Therefore, as I put the website together, I thought I might publish the book online too. I knew people might want to know some of the background that could bring someone to the point where they decide to sell their whole life on the internet. I thought the story showed how much I felt I had lost, and would perhaps provide some context, so that people might understand. I also thought, somewhat bitterly, why not publish it? After all, it meant nothing to anyone else now!

The book was included as part of the webpage, as an introduction to the rest of my story. I hoped to write this during the build-up to the auction, telling the continuing saga of my adventures. It would cover our move to Australia, the life we created there together, the devastating break-up, and my change of direction that eventually led to the auction.

One of the last pieces of the whole package that I had struggled to find an answer for was how to include my job. I could not think of any reason why a mining company would want to be involved, and the logistics of trying to organise that would have been far too complicated. Eventually I hit on the perfect solution. I went back to the rug shop where I had worked for three years. It was a small family business run by husband and wife, Jenny and Dennis, who had been incredibly supportive and helpful as my marriage had collapsed.

Jenny loved the idea, and as they had a staff member leaving, there would be a position that I could fill on a temporary basis, a job which could eventually be offered to the new owner of my life. I knew the shop might benefit from some publicity if I ever got this off the ground, but Jenny just wanted to be a part of it because she thought it was a fun idea.

Finally, I spoke to a few of my friends too, explaining what I was about to do. I wondered if they would be happy to be included as part of the package. I explained that I was not proposing to sell them, but was simply offering an introduction to the new owner of my life to some wonderful people that were an important part of my life. Quite a few friends were very happy to support me, and thought it would be fun to be part of such an unusual idea.

\---

With everything in place, and the website almost complete, it was final decision time. Was I really going to do this? Did I really want to get rid of everything?

It was now over two years since Laura had finally decided that she was going to leave me, and although my life had improved, particularly since meeting Mel, it was obvious that all was still not well, otherwise this might not seem like such a good idea.

Two years later, nothing had done much to diminish how much I missed my wife. I had moved 600 kilometres out into the desert and had started a new career. I had moved into a brand new house. I had lived a completely new lifestyle working in the hot dusty mines of the outback. And of course, I also had a new girlfriend. But none of this had really changed anything for me. I still ached for my friend, my partner, my lover, my everything – my wife.

Every day, small things would remind me of the past that was now long gone, but still ever-present. The tiles on the shower wall that Laura had chosen, the rug on the living room floor that she had designed herself, the sweater hanging in the wardrobe that she had bought for me on my birthday, the same day I had done my first skydive. The plates in the kitchen that we had rescued from the back garden of the house that we had first moved into in Perth, and that we had washed and cleaned together. The small metal puzzles on the kitchen counter that we had bought on our first trip back to England, two years after migrating to Perth.

We had moved from England at the start of 2002 with almost nothing but a rucsac of clothes each, and so everything in the house that I now lived in alone had been bought in the wonderful four years we had shared together in Australia.

Everything about the house, and everything in the house reminded me of Laura. I decided that if I was going to get rid of the place and move on, I would be just as well getting rid of absolutely everything else too, and making a completely fresh start.

After all, it was only "stuff", I reasoned. The logical and optimistic parts of me thought that the idea might generate some interest, and hopefully sell as a complete package, perhaps for a pretty decent price too! If this happened I would be completely free to travel for a while, and if ever I needed "stuff" again, I would always be able to re-buy new "stuff".

Travelling now seemed like a good idea, I had decided. I hoped this might be the final step in my long process of coming to terms with the gaping hole in my life that Laura's departure still left.
Chapter 2

A Life Online

"That's it!" said Mel. "ALife4Sale is now online. Good luck!"

The 14th of March had arrived quickly, and the website was almost complete. There was a long list of minor adjustments, and some additions that would need to be made, but we were ready to go! Mel had uploaded the pages to the online website server, and I wondered just what we might have set in motion.

Simon had written his article back in London, and that day offered it to a couple of the UK national dailies. He phoned and told me that he had had some interest from both The Sun and The Telegraph, but nothing definite yet. There was a rejection from The Daily Mail, and he was just about to offer it to my old local newspaper, The Northern Echo.

The next day only The Northern Echo had run with the story, printing a huge full-page article on page three of the paper. It was complete with pictures and information from the website, which had just gone live online the day before. They had also run the full article online on their website.

I was pretty excited, but also a little disappointed that I had not made it into The Sun, which has one of the largest readerships of any English language newspaper. Now that would have been publicity, I thought, but at least I had made a successful start.

I had no idea of what was about to come!

Not long after the article appeared in The Echo, Simon phoned to say that he was getting a lot of interest from some of the national papers now, and asked if it was okay for him to give them my phone number. Of course it was!

The phone rang again soon, and I found myself talking to a reporter from The Independent. I was quite excited, and pleased to tell the story of how this had all come about. The interview was very positive and encouraging.

A short time after I hung up, the phone rang again, and a reporter from The Sun asked me roughly the same set of questions. This was all going much better than I had hoped for, and if these two ran articles, the coverage would be fantastic.

On the Monday morning UK-time, which was mid-afternoon in Perth, Simon rang again. He was delighted to tell me that there were articles in both The Telegraph and The Daily Mail, although neither of these had rung me. The Independent and The Sun had also run their pieces after speaking to me over the weekend, so I had made at least four of the UK national dailies. This couldn't possibly get any better, I thought!

I had had a few other calls from UK newspapers, and WHO? magazine in Australia had also called. Despite this I was not quite prepared for the next call, which came from the producer of Australian breakfast TV show Sunrise. They wanted me to come in the next morning and appear live on the show at around 8am. The time difference between Sydney and Perth meant that I would have to be at the studio at around 5:30am!! I cancelled the idea of going out to celebrate St Patrick's Day that evening!

I set off for the studio just before 5am, and was met by a cameraman and shown into the building. I was very surprised by how empty and quiet the whole place was. There was only myself and the cameraman in the studio. A sound guy fitted me with an earpiece and microphone and then disappeared back into a little control room. Other than the security guard who had let me in there was nobody else around.

I sat in the chair at the desk, with a photo-backdrop of the Perth skyline behind me, looked nervously at the huge camera pointing at me and listened to the show itself live in my earpiece. I have to admit I was pretty tense, but excited too. I took another sip of the glass of water at my side. Finally, in my earpiece, I heard a producer from the Sydney end of the connection ask if I could hear everything okay. "You're on live in 30 seconds."

I tried to relax, but couldn't suppress the nerves, and all of a sudden I was live on air, chatting to Mel and Kochie, the household-name presenters. I felt that I did pretty well, didn't stutter and stammer at all, and wasn't given any tricky questions. It was all over in a couple of minutes.

I was out of the studio before 6:30am, and went to visit Mel, as she lived close by. I was pretty high with excitement – I had just been on live TV on the east coast, and it would show here in Perth in about an hour. We watched the TV as I came on at 8am, and congratulated each other on a job well done. We had certainly created some publicity about the auction now!

My next port of call was at the rug shop on my way home. Jenny was very excited, but Dennis had a few well-chosen words of advice! "You looked very serious! It looked like you had a broomstick up your backside! Relax and have fun." I thought about this, and thought that yes, it is just meant to be fun, and if I ever got the chance again, I would try to enjoy the moment much more.

By the time I got home the message bank on my home phone was full and could accept no new messages. I had turned my mobile on after I left Mel's, and it had started ringing almost immediately. There was also a message to tell me the mobile phone message bank was full.

At home I turned my computer on and pressed "Send/Receive" on my email software. It took a while for the "receive" to complete, and when it did, over 1,000 messages had flooded in. As these downloaded, both my phones had started ringing again.

I tried to wade through as many of the emails as I could, but it was an almost impossible task. As soon as I hung one phone up the other would ring. Often both would be ringing together, and in the end I disconnected the home phone and just answered the mobile whenever it rang.

I soon got the chance to give my TV interview technique another try. I was invited to appear on a different Australian breakfast TV show the next morning, followed that afternoon by a live link-up with a UK breakfast TV show. I really tried to relax during both of these, and later my friend Karen told me that I had looked so confident and natural. I was really starting to enjoy all of this, but was panicking a little about all the unanswered emails and phone messages.

The next days were absolutely crazy. It was just non-stop. There were constant phone calls, interviews, photographers taking pictures for newspapers, and many radio show appearances. I was also trying to deal with the never-ending flood of emails. Calls started to come in from America and other parts of the world, and I appeared on US breakfast TV show Good Morning America.

I was absolutely worn out. I was often up before 5am to dash to a TV studio for an appearance, and then still doing interviews with US radio stations at 11pm. On many occasions people would call to schedule a radio interview time, but I explained that I could not really promise that my phone wouldn't be engaged, as it was ringing constantly. In many cases I was then asked if I could go live on air right there and then, and within 30 seconds I was in the middle of another interview.

One morning I woke up and thought, "Oh no, I've even started dreaming about doing interviews in the middle of the night!" But I paused for a moment, thinking, "Wait a minute! That feels a little more real than any dream."

I looked at my mobile phone, and found I had forgotten to turn it off before going to bed. I checked the call register, and discovered that I had received a twelve minute call at 3:30am. I had no idea who I had spoken too, or what I had said, but had a vague feeling that I had done okay. I just laughed – I had wanted some adventure and excitement, and I was getting more than I could have possibly imagined! I was going to try to enjoy every aspect of this experience.

But not everything was positive. The Daily Mail in the UK ran a huge double-page spread about the book I had written. They had obviously downloaded a copy from the website, and had gone through it with a fine-toothed comb. They had cherry-picked certain sections, choosing incidents and events from the story to sensationalise. Taken out of context, the parts the article focussed on made the book sound like a terrible warts-and-all exposé. The huge spread had featured a photo of Laura, and I had no idea where they had got it from. It was a picture I had never seen before.

I discovered later that they had turned up on my mother's doorstep back in England, and had hounded Laura's parents too. Laura called me, outraged firstly that I had told our story, secondly about the newspapers hounding her parents, but mainly about the fact that her photo was in the paper. "How did they get my photo? Could they have hacked into my computer? Or did you hack into my computer, steal it and give it to them?"

What?!! I tried to explain that this particular paper had never even spoken to me, that I had released the book simply as background, and still stood by it as a wonderful love story. None of this was being done to get back at her in any way. That had never been my intention at all. In regard to the photo, I had no idea how it had appeared in the newspaper, or where they had got it from. I tried to convince her it was certainly none of my doing. "I don't believe you, I don't know what you're capable of any more!" she said, and hung up.

I thought long and hard about my motivations for publishing the book. I had to admit that if I was completely honest, there was a somewhat cynical, financial element to my decision. I had thought I might be able to make some extra money from the book. But in my heart I also knew my intention had never been to cause anyone any hurt. It was obvious that I could not simply state that I planned to sell my whole life without providing some sort of background. The book would provide such detail, explaining how I felt about Laura, and give some insight into how losing her had affected me. I still stood by what I had written as a wonderful story of love triumphing over adversity.

I took the book down from the website, refunded everybody who had bought a copy, and cancelled all access to the material, which was password protected. I wrote an apology to any and all concerned, and published it online. I had been pretty naïve, I realised, about how it might be interpreted, but we all make mistakes and misjudgements at times, and this was one I was going to have to live with. I had done my best to put it right.

I was really surprised about the overall level of interest there was in me, and my reasons for taking this action. Most people seemed to perceive my decision to sell everything to be an extreme response to my situation. I really had imagined most of the interest would be about the lifestyle package that I was offering, not the motivations behind the package. Naïve again, perhaps?

In those early days I was also contacted by several documentary makers, all based in the UK. They all sounded very professional, and a few of them said they would send me discs of some of the TV documentaries that they had produced. It all sounded very exciting.

When I told Dennis at the rug store, he suggested I should talk to a friend of his who was a Perth-based documentary producer.

It was just before Easter weekend, and I arranged to meet up with Celia, whose company had quite an impressive resume of programs that they had produced. We got on pretty well, and she suggested that they were in a much better position to document what was happening, as they were right here in Perth, and could be with me much more than someone from the UK. She also suggested that they would like to start as soon as possible, as some amazing things were happening right now, and they would like to film over the long weekend. An overseas team would miss a lot of the initial early chaos.

I was in two minds about how it would be to have a documentary made about what I was doing. I took a bit of time to think about it, whenever I managed to get a few brief minutes of thinking time between calls and interviews. I quite liked the idea of being the focus of an unusual tale, I had to admit, but I also wondered about the downside of always having someone there with a camera in my face.

I spoke again with Celia, and she put my mind at ease, convincing me that they certainly wouldn't be there all day every day. Eventually we came to a tentative agreement that we would start filming over the long weekend, with no formal agreement as to where that may lead. This was something that we would be able to firm up over the following days.

I felt pretty comfortable with the arrangement, and met Britt, who would work as the main cameraperson and interviewer for the documentary. She would also occasionally use another camera team to record material if we went out and about.

Over the weekend Britt was at the house quite a lot of the time, and filmed much of what was going on. She would film me while I did interviews on the phone, and I found that it didn't take too long to forget, at times, that she was even there. Often, at the end of an interview, I would look up to see her filming me from along the corridor, and would be slightly surprised.

We did a lot of face-to-face interview-type of questions whenever the phone wasn't ringing. Britt would ask me a question, but wanted me to respond with the question included in the reply, so that the answers were fully self-contained statements. I found this a bit tricky to remember at first, as all the other interviews simply needed a response to the question. Eventually, with a bit of prompting every now and then from Britt, I managed to get the hang of it.

I really enjoyed the process, and Britt was very easy to get on with. It was quite different from the many radio and newspaper interviews I was still doing, where I found that I was often asked the same, or at least a very similar set of about five questions. I soon heard myself sounding a bit like a parrot, giving the same set of answers to the now familiar questions. I had found ways of expressing these answers that felt natural and comfortable to me, and tended to stick to these, trying some variations every now and then.

After a few days I told Britt I was about to do another telephone interview, and wondered if she wanted to film it? No, she said, as I would probably be saying pretty much the same stuff she had filmed me saying in most of the other interview she had seen me do.

I continued to enjoy Britt's face-to-face interviews, as she asked some fantastic questions, and really got me thinking about a lot of stuff that I hadn't given much consideration to recently. She managed to delve subtly into my past, emotions, motivations, relationships, future plans, and much more. It was quite a fascinating process to go through, and I tried to be fully open about everything. I did wonder in the back of my mind how it all might look when finally edited.

Over the Easter weekend, and during the weeks following, there were also developments in a new and very exciting direction. I had received a few emails from Hollywood production companies and independent producers interested in my story. I had responded to them and given them a contact number, but never really expected to hear any more from them.

My first inkling that there may be some serious interest in the possibility of my story being used as a movie script was a call from a guy in the US called Andrew Panay. I had a long chat with him, and he told me that he was one of the producers of the movie Wedding Crashers. Oh dear, I am not really a big Owen Wilson fan, but after our chat I did take a look at the movie, and quite enjoyed it. Andrew told me that he was in contact with Walt Disney Pictures, and the President himself there was very interested in the idea as a movie script.

I tried to retain a healthily protective scepticism about the whole thing, but over the next few days I received several other calls form both major studios and independent producers.

One of the more surreal conversations I had went as follows:

Movie Producer (very casually): "We see this project as a Tom Hanks-type of rom-com!"

Me (a quick, tongue-in-cheek response): "Tom Hanks? No, no! I rather saw George Clooney playing me!"

Movie Producer (not picking up on any of the humour in my voice): "Yes, we could possibly make that happen!"

Me (almost speechless with surprise!): "Riiiiiight....."

One of the best contacts I made during those first few weeks was with a guy who specialised in publicity for unusual internet projects. I received an email from Evan, and wrote back when I got the chance. We kept in touch, and eventually, when things calmed down a bit, I gave him a call to see what help he might be able to offer. He told me of his work with Kyle McDonald, who had created an unusual internet project. He had started with one red paperclip, and had swapped it for something else. He swapped the new item again and repeated the process over and over until he eventually ended up with a house. Kyle had just signed a movie and book deal, arranged through Evan, and another of his contacts, a movie agent called Brandon.

Evan, Brandon and I had a conference call one evening, at the point when there were quite a few emails and calls coming in from movie producers and studios. I had realised that if I was at all interested in following up with any of these potential offers, I really needed an agent who knew what he was talking about.

Again, I had spoken to Dennis at the rug shop, and he had suggested I should perhaps speak to an Australian-based representative, and gave me a couple of ideas of people who might be suitable. I eventually got to talk to one of these guys, and was quite unimpressed. He seemed completely confused by what I was doing, and had nothing to suggest other than perhaps selling the story to an Australian women's magazine. I told him about the movie studio contacts and the interest from documentary makers. He said he would think about it over the weekend and get back to me. I never heard from him again, and didn't bother calling him back.

I had a couple of further discussions with Brandon and Evan, and was starting to feel a bit pressured by the documentary makers with whom I was currently working. They were keen to make a formal agreement about the material they were filming. They were obviously inputting a lot of time and effort, and were keen to know that they had an end result to work towards.

I had put them in touch with a UK-based production company that had been interested in my story as an episode of an ongoing documentary series. An agreement had been made between a producer at the BBC and the Australian team about filming the episode for them.

I was quite excited and flattered. I mean, how often is it that the BBC wants you to be the central character of a forty minute documentary? But a problem was becoming apparent. I had spoken to Brandon about the documentary, and he had told me that there may well be a potential conflict between a movie being scripted, and a documentary being filmed.

I considered both possibilities at some length, and spoke to several friends about my dilemma. I was really enjoying the documentary process, and now felt pretty confident that the people making it would do a great job, and would present the story in a truthful and honest fashion. A movie would be quite a different matter, and, I imagined, would end up being far-removed from any of the reality of the story.

But there was one key difference, and several of my friends had asked me the same question. "How much would you get paid for each option?" Although my original intentions had been to sell my house and belongings in order to move along to the next phase of my life, there was of course a desire to sell my house for the best price I could get. And if I could maximise that through other options too, then that would give me the best possible start for the next part of my life.

I asked the documentary makers about any possible payment, and actually felt a bit bad about doing so. I mean, what a great opportunity it all was, and what fun too. I was informed that documentaries were never paid for, as it may have an impact on the impartiality of the final outcome. I understood, I told them, but in the back of my mind I thought it did seem slightly unfair. As several friends had also pointed out, everybody else involved would be getting paid – the camera people, the documentary company, the producers and the TV company.

I eventually appointed Brandon as my official representative with regard to any possible movie deal, and felt relieved that he could look after that whole side of the crazy situation. Any emails or contacts that came in about movie deals were forwarded straight to him. I was pretty confident that he would do a good job, as he worked on a percentage basis, and it was in his interests to do the best he could for me.

In the meantime I had worked out another deal with Evan, with regard to publicity for the auction. The publicity campaign that I had initially imagined had been achieved many times over in the first week after the launch of the website, but of course, additional publicity would not do any harm. Evan usually worked on a monthly fee basis, but I explained that I could not afford this, and would really have no idea how effective his work had been, as I had generated such a huge amount of publicity myself.

Eventually we worked out percentage-based deal, which would pay Evan on a sliding scale, dependent upon the final price that the auction raised. I was quite happy with this arrangement, as anything that Evan got paid would be out of extra money that I raised over and above my initial hopes and expectations. Evan was very positive about how the auction would go, estimating a low figure of $600,000, but suggesting that $1million could be a realistic possibility. My original target had been $450,000.

Brandon worked with all of the movie contacts I forwarded to him. He informed me that the original contact from Andrew Panay and Disney was looking like the most realistic possibility, but there would definitely be an issue with a documentary being made. I discussed this with the documentary people, and they argued pretty strongly that there was no reason why both could not be made, and would possibly even be beneficial to each other.

I went back to Brandon to argue their case, as I was still keen to make the documentary. He discussed it further with Disney, but eventually came back with the same answer. Disney would not permit a documentary to be made if they were to enter into a movie deal.

I felt caught in the middle of all this, and was feeling a little under pressure. Eventually I decided to take myself out of the equation altogether, and put the documentary people in direct contact with Brandon. A day or two later the documentary people decided that without a formal agreement at this stage they could no longer go on spending money in a speculative fashion, as it appeared unlikely they would end up with a finished program. I understood, of course, but felt that I had now burned my bridges, and hoped that something concrete would eventually come out of the extended negotiations with Disney.

During all of this, the craziness of the on-going media attention continued. I had returned to the rug shop to work, but would spend a lot of time answering my phone, and dealing with one interview request or another. On a couple of occasions camera teams from Australian or international news shows would come to the shop to do an interview, and Jenny, who loved all the publicity, made a couple of TV show appearances too.

I received an email from a producer at the Jay Leno Show in America, and was quite stunned. Now that really would be big time publicity! Unfortunately nothing ever eventuated from that, but a trip to the US would have been great.

I was also contacted by a producer at The Tyra Banks Show. I had never heard of Tyra Banks, and did a little internet research. I was somewhat worried by the content of her shows. It certainly seemed to be targeted firmly at the trashy, sensationalist end of the market! When I next spoke to the producer I raised my concerns, but he informed me that the show was a one-off, featuring people who had decided to make radical change in their life.

I made it very clear that I had never discussed publicly the details of the break-up of my marriage, and would not be prepared to do so on the show. I pointed out that I had only ever stated in any interview that I had made a discovery one evening that had blindsided me, and that our marriage had ended shortly afterwards. With this proviso agreed upon, it looked like I might be heading to New York very soon.

Unfortunately, the producer had left things until the very last minute, and although I was prepared to go on short notice, flights were very expensive. The show's budget would not stretch to that expense and another trip to America fell through.

I was continuing to write a daily blog about what was going on in the 100 days countdown to the start of the auction. Finding the time to do so was a bit of a challenge sometimes, but I knew it was worth it as it would serve as a great diary of these strange and interesting days.

Often I would write about what was going on, but I was always aware that part of the reason for the blog was as a sales pitch for the "product" that I was offering. Often my blogs were therefore about great days out in Perth, the wonderful weather, and the laid-back beach lifestyle.

I continued to receive a huge number of emails from individuals who wished me well, or offered support and encouragement. Probably about 95% of the incoming mail was positive, but there was certainly quite a bit that was very negative too. Some people suggested that I was an attention-seeking idiot. Why couldn't I just deal with my problems quietly like any normal person would, without having to tell the whole world about it? I think many people missed the point that I was not doing this for sympathy, merely in order to sell up and move on. I had simply told the story about how I had reached this point as background, to explain how I had arrived at my decision.

The bulletin boards on the website were proving to be equally interesting. Again, a huge part of it was positive, encouraging and supportive, but there was a small and very vocal minority that were very negative too.

I had one particularly enthusiastic detractor who accused me of being a hoax and a fraud, suggesting that the auction would never happen, and that I was conning the world's media. For what purpose, I wondered, in response? Other people wanted to know the ins and outs of my finances, my personal relationships, and other private details. My reluctance to divulge absolutely every private detail about myself was taken to be some sort of proof that there was some big fraudulent scheme developing here.

I quite enjoyed the negative comments and criticisms. They gave me a chance to respond to issues that many others must be wondering about too, and an opportunity to show people that all was exactly as I presented it on the website and in the press. But as I was to discover, there really is no convincing some people!! I didn't worry about it too much.

Although I tried to avoid it as much as I could, it was impossible to avoid my private life being dragged into the press. One unusual and somewhat surprising story appeared in the local Perth newspaper. I thought that the Australian press had a bit more integrity than much of the UK's gutter tabloid press, but the article was a bit of a disappointment.

Mel and I had been in a relationship for about a year by this point. We had met over a year after my separation, and enjoyed a pretty easy-going relationship. I was often asked if I had a current partner, and never really answered directly. Firstly, Mel did not want to have any part of the publicity, and secondly, I believed that any current relationship was nothing at all to do with the sale.

However, one local reporter did not see things that way, and went and did some digging, quizzing colleagues at my skydive club. The article that was written was not very positive, and suggested that the "heartbroken" man selling his life on eBay was perhaps not all that heartbroken after all, as he was in a happy relationship. What was not pointed out was that this was now two years after my separation.

On the bulletin boards, my favourite critics picked this up as proof that all was not right here. If I was lying about this, what else might I be lying about? I decided to address the issue head-on, and linked directly to the article myself, pointing out that a couple of years had passed since my marriage had ended. I asked how long I was supposed to wait until I began looking for a new partner, and some new happiness in my life. Also, after some discussion with Mel, I pointed out that our relationship had not quite been the blissful union that the news article had suggested, and that we had in fact now separated. Mel had eventually lost patience with my lack of commitment to the relationship, and had decided to move on. I really didn't like having to make such personal matters public, but had to be somewhat realistic, and accept that this was part of the down-side of all the publicity.

After a few weeks the publicity died off a little, and things started to return to some semblance of normality. A couple of friends from the east coast of Australia had moved over to Perth to start new careers in the mining industry, and they stayed with me for a few weeks. Another friend from the UK came and stayed for a while too, as he visited several companies with a view to getting a job in Australia, and moving over with his family to live here. It was nice to have some visitors who were also making some huge changes in their own lives, who understood my position and actions, and offered plenty of encouragement and support.

In the calmer days after the initial craziness died away, Mel and I made up and got back together again. We had discussed our relationship, and what being together again might mean. I had been at pains to point out that I really didn't want anything too serious or involved, and hoped to keep things very much on a casual, friendly basis. Mel seemed happy to agree to such an arrangement, and a little sense of normality returned to life as things settled back into some sort of routine, and I resumed my duties at the rug shop.

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I was still doing occasional interviews, answering the same set of questions that I had been asked hundreds of times before. In most interviews the series of questions was very predictable, and my answers had become pretty automatic. This generally is what I would be asked:-

"Can you tell us what you are doing?"

"Why have you decided to do that?"

"How much do you think it will all sell for?"

"What will you do afterwards?"

"What do friends and family think about it?"

Sometimes there would be other questions included, such as why my wife and I had separated, or what she thought of the whole idea. Another favourite was about how I could sell my friends. I was always very keen to explain that I had never, ever said that I was selling friends. I was simply offering, as part of the package, an introduction to a wonderful circle of people who would be prepared to offer a warm welcome to a newcomer.

I must have been getting a bit too comfortable doing these interviews, as I really enjoyed it when something a little different happened. I particularly enjoyed the breakfast radio show type of interview, where there would be a panel of two or three presenters, and laughs were their main aim. They were much more challenging, and a lot more fun. You really could have anything thrown at you, and had to be pretty quick on your feet with a snappy answer.

It was the fourth question on the list that always gave me the most difficulty. I had been asked so many times in interviews and on the ALife4Sale website forum what I thought I might do once I sold my life. I didn't really have an answer, even for myself. My usual glib response was that I would be able to do anything I liked!

But in the back of my mind, I wondered what it was that I really would like to do. One day I was chatting on the phone to Evan, the US-based internet publicity guy. He suggested that after the auction, when I came out to LA, we would go skydiving together, and he would show me what his city had to offer.

"Great," I had said, "but I guess that depends on how the finances look, and where I am working at the time."

"Work?" said Evan. "No, no, no! You don't understand! This is your chance to never have to work again!"

"Well, I like your thinking Evan," I replied, "but I haven't got a clue what you're talking about! How would I do that?"

"Well, you have to come up with a follow-up project. Something that is internet-based, is quirky and interesting, that follows on logically from what you are doing now, and most importantly – and this is where your money comes from – has a book deal in it!"

"Righto. Sounds good. So what is that then?" I asked.

"I have no idea, that's up to you, buddy!" Evan had laughed.

"Hmm, okay, I'll get to work on it."

This advice sat in the back of my mind for the next month or so. People continued to ask in interviews what I planned to do next, or where I intended to go, and I always answered that I still didn't really know. All I knew was that I wanted to do some travelling.

One day on the ALife4Sale website, a forum contributor called Tess had asked if I had any sort of a "life-list", or set of goals. I did have an old list somewhere that I had written out a few years earlier.

Not long after I had searched unsuccessfully for my old list, Mel and I spent an evening together at her house, and were well into our second bottle of wine. I could still remember many of the goals from my original list, and told her with enthusiasm about many of the things that I had always wanted to do or see. I estimated that out of the list of 100 things I wanted to achieve in my life, in five years since I had written them down, I had only ticked off perhaps six of the goals. That obviously wasn't going to work. If I maintained the same rate of achievement, I was going to die one day with the larger part of my list still incomplete.

In one sudden flash of wine-fuelled inspiration, an idea came to me. As soon as I sold my life, I would set off to achieve all of the things on my list. I would re-write a list of 100 goals, and give myself a time limit. And there it was, almost fully formed, the idea for my next two years – 100 goals in 100 weeks.

As soon as the idea flashed across my somewhat inebriated mind, I thought, "That's it!!" It perfectly filled Evan's criteria, and it would be incredibly exciting to do too. I knew immediately that this is what I would be doing next. My future was looking very exciting indeed.

However, in my excitement, I didn't notice Mel's crest-fallen look, and when I look back on this occasion, I can only imagine the hurt I must have caused.

Mel, as always, supported and encouraged me. She threw herself into designing another new website, cataloguing the goals, designing search options, setting up blog, photo and video pages, and much more.

As I added text to each of the goals, and background to the reasons behind my choices, I became increasingly excited and focused on making this all become a reality.

\---

For almost as long as I can remember, I have always had goals, even when I never fully grasped the importance of doing so.

When I was very young, I can remember watching a documentary about Ernest Hemingway, a writer born in 1899. He lived a full life, settling in different locations for several years at a time to write, and then moving on. Inspired by his visits to Spain, in 1926 he wrote his first novel, The Sun Also Rises. When the documentary covered this part of his life, it showed quite a lot of footage of the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona. I can clearly remember sitting and watching those people running wildly through the streets with bulls thundering around among them, and thinking to myself, "I'm going to do that one day!"

When I told my parents they smiled and wished me luck. They were always supportive of anything my brother or I wanted to do, but I don't know if they believed I would ever do it.

As I started to gather my list of 100 goals, including things I have always wanted to do, and places I have always wanted to see, I thought of that day, probably over 30 years earlier. Of course, on the list I started to make, running with the bulls at Pamplona went right at the top!

There were many other things that I had often said I wanted to do, but had never managed to find the time to get around to doing. It was time to put that right. Once everything sold I would have little to tie me down, and hopefully plenty of cash from the sale. My list of goals started to grow.
Chapter 3

The Auction

My idea was to break the news of my goal-achieving new plans just as the auction finished, with publicity at its highest. I would hopefully kick-start my new adventure in fine style.

As the end of June approached, interest from the media began to increase again. By the time the auction started, I had stopped working at the rug shop again in order to ensure that all went smoothly with the sale, and to complete work on the 100goals100weeks.com website.

However, the start of the auction didn't quite go according to plan. I had been contacted by eBay, who had seen some of the publicity about the auction, and had allocated me my own personal eBay rep. Matthew was there to help me with any issues that may come up, and his first requirement was that the sale be listed under "Real Estate", as the house was the major asset included in the whole "life" package.

This meant that the eBay auction could only offer an introduction between buyer and seller, as house sales were covered by many different laws in each state. Ultimately any final bid would not be binding on either the buyer or the seller. This sounded great to me, as eBay could therefore not charge an end-of-sale commission, and the total cost to make the listing online would be a mere $49.95.

I asked how we could deal with the potential problem of fake bids, and Matthew suggested that we set up the sale as a "Registered Bidders Only" auction. Anybody wanting to bid would have to answer whatever questions I cared to ask, and I could choose who would be allowed to bid. This would enable me to weed out people who looked like they may not have made any sort of arrangements to have finances in place, or considered whether they would need any sort of visa to come to Australia. Anyone from abroad would, as a minimum, have to at least be familiar with the requirements of the Foreign Investment Review Board.

Out of the hundreds of potential bidders I imagine I rejected about a third, mainly because many of these had made no sort of plans should they be the winning bidder. I thought I had every eventuality covered.

On the morning that the auction began, many friends came round, and there were a few bottles of wine, and even one of champagne too. There was a wonderful celebratory atmosphere, and at noon Mel and I set the auction in motion! Matthew had told us that once the auction had started we would be able to switch on the "Registered Bidders Only" option, and Mel said she would do this as I raised the first of many glasses in celebration.

A short while later Mel asked me to join her. She couldn't get the option to switch on, and at the moment it was a bidding free-for-all. Bids were already at over $100,000, having started at just $1 only minutes before. The "Registered Bidders Only" option didn't seem to be available, but I said that it shouldn't be a problem, as I would just give Matthew a call. Ah, but eBay help was only open during working hours on Monday to Friday. It was now just after noon on Sunday. We tried the online help system, and Mel struggled for a while, messaging back and forth with a help rep somewhere else in the world. She was told that the option had to be turned on before the auction started, and couldn't then be selected afterwards.

No problem, I had said, I would just speak to Matthew on Monday morning and get the issue resolved. I suggested that Mel should join me with the others happily downing the cheaper wine now that the champagne had been consumed.

By mid-afternoon bids had reached around $350,000, and I confidently predicted that they wouldn't go any higher now. By the time we went to bed the top bid was $650,000.

I had to be up very early the next morning for a TV interview, and with a couple of spare minutes, I decided to take a look at the auction's progress. I was absolutely astounded to see a bid of $1.9 million. As I sat there in amused disbelief, the screen refreshed, and the bid was now $2 million. Laughing to myself, I shut down the computer and headed for the TV studio.

By the time I was interviewed the bids were at $2.2 million, and I was asked what it felt like to become an overnight multi-millionaire. Let's all just stay calm here, I had suggested. I hadn't had a chance to check out the veracity of these bids, and had no guarantee that they weren't fake. I explained the issues we had had with the registered bidders fiasco.

Later in the morning Matthew resolved the issue, and together we looked at the bids. He explained how I, as the seller, could access full details on any bidder, including home phone number, and I got to work.

I made several amusing phone calls that morning, including one to the aunt of a fifteen year old lad in England. Was he there, I wondered?

"No, he doesn't live here," she explained in a broad Geordie accent. "He only uses this number because he doesn't have a phone of his own."

"Right," I sighed. "He has been bidding on a rather expensive item on eBay. Does he often do that?"

"Oh yes, he often buys stuff off the internet."

"Okay, would he be in a position to pay over two million dollars?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"Well, his current bid in a pretty high-profile auction is $2.2 million. If he doesn't follow through, I imagine it will be your door that the world's press will be knocking on shortly!"

"Eeee! I'll kill the little bastard!"

And so it went on. Eventually, I had weeded out all of the idiots, and cancelled all of the bids that looked in any way suspect. By mid-Monday morning we were back on track, and the top bid stood at $150,000.

It had been fun to be a multi-millionaire though, even if it was only for a couple of hours.

The rest of the auction week was equally incredible and entertaining. There were live TV interviews first thing every morning, and radio and newspaper interviews for the rest of the day. There was a wonderful sense of build-up to the finale, and friends would call round regularly to see how things were progressing.

I arranged a party for the Saturday evening, as a "thank you" to all my friends who had supported me over the previous months. On the morning of the final day of the auction, the house was an absolute mess.

With Evan's help in LA, we had set up a live video feed from the house, and were streaming the last hour or so live over the internet. By 11:30am there was a house-full of friends, many still there from the previous evening. We were live online, had two TV news crews setting up gear in the living room, a Japanese TV crew filming everything that was going on, and a helicopter circling overhead looking for a place to land.

After the initial drama of the $2 million-plus bids, the auction had progressed in a much more sensible fashion. The current high bid was $399,300, just a few dollars short of my unstated reserve price of $400,000. I was hoping, as often happens on eBay, that there would be a final flurry of bids in the dying seconds of the auction, and the price would be pushed up a bit higher.

The clock ticked past noon, and the auction was over. My computer was being fed through the projector onto the large screen on the living room wall, and I refreshed the eBay screen, eager to see the final bid.

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To find out what happened at the end of the eBay auction, and to follow the amazing two-year adventure that followed, get hold of a copy of "A Life Sold". It is available in both paperback and digital format at all good online book retailers. Search for either "A Life Sold" or for "Ian Usher" at your favourite online book outlet.
