 
# More Adventure Travel

**11 more stories of worldwide adventure to further**

inspire you towards your own travel goals.

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

### More Adventure Travel

Ian Usher

Copyright 2012 by Ian Usher

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# Contents

Introduction

Worthing Birdman

7 peaks in 7 days

Whitewater rafting

Great Wall of China

Deep sea fishing

Icebergs

Ostrich riding

Bungee jump #2

Machu Picchu

Carnival in Rio

Everest Base Camp

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 the second half of that journey, and gives an account of some of the adventures 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

# Worthing Birdman

Weekend in Worthing.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

After writing my blog at 5 am yesterday morning I got up and had some breakfast, but as nobody else was up and about, I went back upstairs to read for a while, and wait for the rest of the household to catch up with me. The next thing I knew, it was about 12.30 in the afternoon, Martin had gone to work hours before, and Rachel had been working all morning at home! For me it was still only the equivalent of 5.30am Denver-time.

I had a quick shower and packed Martin's car, and headed for the south coast, keen to miss the worst of the traffic that would be streaming out of the capital on a Friday afternoon later on.

I made my way to Bognor Regis, the original home of the Bognor Birdman Competition. The pier there was damaged by fire a couple of years ago, and was drastically shortened, and the water at the new end of the pier is no longer deep enough for jumping/flying off!

Bognor is a typical English seaside town, it's glory years now long behind it. Despite the fact that it is still summer holidays, the windy beach was deserted, and the whole place had a faded, run-down atmosphere about it.

I took some pictures of the forlorn pier and empty beach, and then drove ten miles along the coast to Worthing, the new home of the Birdman Competition. Worthing is a lot cleaner, and seems to have a bit more life about it. Although all of the concerts advertised at the Pier Theatre had a distinctly oldies flavour about them!

The pier itself has a huge scaffold construction at the end, and I wandered along to take some pictures. It looked quite alarming, as the tide was right out, and the drop from the platform must be at least 50 feet, onto the sands below. I imagine that the event itself later today, and on Sunday afternoon too, are timed to coincide with high tide. Even so, the top of the platform is impressively high.

At around 6pm, Michelle called me, letting me know that she had finished work and arrived back at home. Michelle lives in Worthing, a short walk from the pier, and had contacted me through the website, and offered to accommodate me for the weekend. I eventually found the house, and we headed out for a fantastic Mexican meal in town.

Once again it is now around 2am, and I am still wide awake. I will try to sleep as long as possible tomorrow morning, and then am keen to go and see the serious flyers launch themselves off the platform in the afternoon.

Worthing Birdman - day 1.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Saturday was a beautiful sunny day, and Michelle and I wandered down to the seafront for day one of the Worthing Birdman Competition. There are three classes of flyer, the most serious being the Condor class, who usually have hangliders, sometimes specially modified for the competition. The second group is the Leonardo Da Vinci class, who have more homemade contraptions, but still with the potential to fly a significant distance. Both of these classes would be competing on Saturday, but the third class, in which I had entered, the Kingfishers, would not be "flying" until Sunday.

So I could happily enjoy the day as a spectator. And what a lovely day it was. The sun was out, the beach was packed, big screens were set up for viewing the action, and the whole place had a great carnival atmosphere.

We watched a couple of flights from the beach, and then wandered out along the pier. We were surprised at how close we could get to the action, and eventually headed up the stairs to the bar on the second floor in the pavilion at the end of the pier, where the balcony offered an excellent vantage point.

The wind was in the right direction for the flyers, blowing straight onto the platform, and there were some spectacular flights. The most amazing was by Steve Elkins, who flew an incredible 99.87 metres, easily beating the previous record. He must have been very disappointed to fall 13cm short of the target distance of 100m, which would have won the £30,000 prize that is on offer!

Later on in the evening, Michelle dropped me in Brighton, and I met up with Martin and Rachel, who had come down to show support for my flight the next afternoon, and were out and about on the town with friends Rob and Suzanne. A great evening, although I went steady with the beer \- a big day the next day! The flyers' platform certainly looked unnervingly high, but I am looking forward to my own "flight" from it.

You can read a BBC news article about the day here:-

<http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/sussex/8215701.stm>

Goal 55 - Fly like an ostrich!

Monday, August 24, 2009

I had to drop my "craft" off at the pier before 11am, and then had to be dressed in costume by noon for the judging of the Kingfisher class. The theatre on the pier where the mayor and others came to judge us was filled with a variety of entertaining costumes, including a guy in a huge crocodile outfit, Laurel and Hardy, naughty nurses, and many others.

At 12.30, there was a mandatory safety briefing for all of the "flyers", which included the 18 serious flyers from the day before, who would be making a second attempt, as well as the 20 or so Kingfishers. The atmosphere was fantastic, and humorous comments from many of the contestants made the briefing very entertaining.

At 1pm the "flights" began, with a guy in Hawaiian hula girl outfit and a body board plunging off the platform into the water below. He was followed by more spectacular plunges by other crazily dressed competitors, and I took my place in the queue behind "Del Boy" Trotter from UK comedy "Only Fools And Horses". He had a complete mock-up of Del's famous car, which failed to fly any further than any of the other Kingfishers, and disintegrated on impact with the water.

It was my turn next, and I waddled up the steep ramp to the platform in my costume. I had opted to "fly" sat astride an ostrich, and had worked on the costume a couple of months before, with much sowing assistance from my mum while last in England. I had also begged shoes for the outfit from my godson Owen, and found the perfect pair of ostrich feet flippers while at a car boot sale down in Devon back in June.

Each contestant was interviewed on camera at the top of the ramp, the pictures being transmitted on the big screens up and down the beach, and streamed live on the internet too. I was asked quite a few questions about both ALife4Sale and 100goals, and was trying to explain my fundraising goal, when I was informed that my time had begun, and I had thirty seconds left!

I barely had time to waddle to the end of the platform, and wanted to take the time to actually look off at the height of it. "5 seconds!" I was informed as I looked off the edge. It really was a spectacularly high jump! "Go, go, go!" I heard, and I flew - well, plummeted really! It was a long fall, and I hit the water pretty hard, but the ostrich costume protected me well.

The safety boat arrived and I was dragged aboard completely waterlogged! We waited for the next competitor, who had managed to split his lip and was bleeding a bit. I saw him interviewed later on the beach, and he was still shaking!

I got changed, thrilled by the jump, and went to watch the last of the Kingfishers, followed by the more serious flyers. ("Are you suggesting that we are not serious?" a guy in an outrageous drag outfit beside me at the safety briefing had asked loudly!)

Unfortunately the wind conditions were not as good as the previous day, and nobody came anywhere near the previous days' fantastic efforts, but the sun was out, and for the spectators the weather was fantastic.

Worthing Council did an absolutely awesome job of organising a fantastic event, which all seemed to go very smoothly. The English summer weather was perfect for the whole weekend, other than wind direction on the second day, and the crowds were huge.

Many thanks to all who made this goal possible, including my costume designers, contributors and assistants - mainly mum and Owen! Also to Martin, Rachel and Rob, as well as one of the other Ian Ushers and family for coming along to offer support and encouragement. And huge thanks to Michelle for being a wonderful Worthing host. A brilliant weekend all round. More from the BBC here:-

<http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/sussex/8217125.stm>

I now have to dash back to Heathrow, and will be back in Colorado tonight. Quite surreal.

Birdman photos and video.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

My Worthing host and official Birdman helper/photographer Michelle got chatting to Sara, wife of the flying crocodile, and they were stood together taking photos of our "flights". Thanks to Sara, who forwarded the fantastic picture at the end of this story.

And here are Worthing Town Council's videos of the fun from both afternoons. (Note: Compared to many of the "flyers" who took amazing running leaps, my sedate launch from a standing start looks a bit timid, but have you ever tried running in flippers?):-

Worthing Birdman 2009 \- Saturday Video link:-

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

Worthing Birdman 2009 \- Sunday Video link:-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i4XORqaJnms

I am writing this now in bed at 6am at my host Val's house in Colorado Springs! Yesterday was a very long day. It is quite disorienting to wake up in Worthing on the south coast of England, and go to bed in Colorado 22 hours later. From Worthing I drove Martin's car back up to London, got the tube to Heathrow, flew to Denver, caught the shuttle bus to the long-term parking, then drove the RV south to Colorado Springs, arriving here at about 10pm Colorado-time, the equivalent of 5am the next morning back in England. Trains, planes and automobiles!!

I think by the time I got to Val and Brenda's house and met them, my meeting-new-people skills had just about at the end of their tether, and we only chatted for a short while before I made my excuses and headed for bed. I managed a good eight hours sleep though, and am going to try for a few more hours right now, to get firmly back onto US time again.

###

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* * *

# 7 peaks in 7 days

7 peaks - day 1.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

After my late arrival the night before, I had a fairly easy day around Colorado Springs, and was shown around some of the local sights by Val. We went to see Garden of the Gods, which has some spectacular rock formations, and met with a TV news reporter who wanted to do an article for the news that evening.

We collected a minibus which Val planned to use for the next day's hike to Pikes Peak, and I met a few people at Val's workplace, a couple of whom may be joining us later in the week for a couple of peaks.

That evening Val and Brenda had organised a BBQ at their lovely home, and I met many of their friends. Several of them will be joining us for some or even all of the seven peaks.

The next morning we got a reasonably early start, and several fellow climbers turned up at the house for the trip to Pikes Peak, probably Colorado's most famous and accessible 14,000 foot peak, also known as America's Mountain.

There is a road that leads all the way to the summit, and we started our climb pretty high up the mountain, as Val wanted to give me a reasonably easy introduction to mountaineering at such altitudes. There were also a few other beginners like myself in the group.

The weather was cool but clear, and we made our way up towards the clouds which hovered just above the summit. The climb itself was relatively easy, but the air is very thin, and pretty soon I was panting hard, and my heart was pounding. Many of the others in the group seemed to be able to walk quite a bit quicker than me, holding a conversation at the same time, while I simply struggled to gasp for breath.

We reached the summit around an hour and a half later, and I was amazed to find a full car park, a gift shop and restaurant, and a cog railway (the highest one in the world) that comes up to the summit on the other side of the peak. It really is accessible to all.

After a quick break a few of us elected to walk back down to the start point, while others elected to return in the minibus. By the end of the walk my head was starting to pound a bit, and I was certainly feeling the effects of the altitude.

We only had a couple of hours to get ready to set off for the rest of the week, and I hurriedly re-packed and organised my bags, still feeling the after effects of the slight altitude sickness that I had.

Val's friend Tim, who would be joining us for all 7 peaks, drove us to Dillon, where more of Val's friends have a condo that we will be using for the next couple of nights. I elected to take the back seat, and promptly fell asleep for most of the journey. I felt much better when I woke, and we have now settled in to the very scenic apartment for the evening.

Thanks to all who joined me for the first of my Colorado 14ers, making this the biggest ever group of people to have joined me so far on my travels. A great, and reasonably easy introduction to high-altitude mountains.

One peak conquered in one day, only six more to go! More info on Pikes Peak here:-

Pikes Peak

7 peaks - day 2.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Day Two of our attempt to climb seven of Colorado's 14ers (peaks higher than 14,000 feet) began early with breakfast at the condo, and an early departure for the day's start point about an hour's drive away.

There would be a group of eight of us climbing today, myself, Val and Tim, who are hoping to achieve all seven peaks, and also from yesterday, Bob, Mary, and Justin. New additions to the group Eric and Paul also joined us. Eric plans to be with us for the rest of the week, and having climbed Pikes Peak before, is also pretty-much doing all seven peaks.

It was cold in the shadow of the mountains as we began our climb, but we soon climbed up into the sun and the layers of clothes started to come off. The day was bright and clear, winds light, and the climb fairly steep, but not too demanding.

I was feeling pretty fresh again, and took my time climbing, and although I could feel the same gasping shortness of breath at times, the first peak of the day was soon conquered, and we stood on top of Mount Democrat, at a height of 14,148 feet, 38 feet higher than yesterday, and a new record for me. (Before yesterday the highest I had been was 13,435 feet way back in 1999, when I climbed Mount Kinabalu in Borneo)

I was feeling fine, and confident about the next two peaks planned for the day, which would take us on a circular route without losing too much height. We dropped down to the saddle and started climbing again, crossing another summit of over 14,000 feet. Unfortunately, Mount Cameron is not counted as a true 14er, as there are several criteria that need to be fulfilled to do so. Mount Cameron is 14,238 feet high, but between there and the next peak, Mount Lincoln, there is less than 300 feet of drop, and less than a mile distance, both of which are required for inclusion in the list of 53 true 14ers.

By the time I reached the summit of Mount Lincoln, at 14,286 feet, lagging a little behind most of the group, my altitude headache had started, and I sat with my head in my hands for a while. More water, and a bite to eat improved my condition, and after another summit photograph, I was ready for the descent to the next saddle, feeling good again.

But the final climb to the 14,172' summit of Mount Bross, was a real struggle, and my head was really pounding by the time I got there. I lay down and closed my eyes, feeling a bit nauseous too, and it was all I could do five minutes later to drag myself up for a final summit photo. I improved a little with some rest, and felt better as we begun our long steep descent back to the vehicles.

By the time we got down I was feeling pretty rough again, and slept in the car on the way back to Dillon. I woke feeling much better, and beer and a burger at our happy hour bar soon sorted me out again. It really is surprising how quick the altitude sickness can come, and then how quick it can go again.

The whole trip took around seven hours, all of which was spent at over 12,000', most of it well above 13,000'. We now have a rest day planned for tomorrow as we travel from Dillon to Ouray, and Val thinks that I shouldn't have too many more problems now, as I should be fairly well conditioned for the altitude. I hope he is right, as the last hour of today's descent was pretty miserable.

The actual walking and climbing itself is reasonably easy, and in England, a walk like today around peaks in the Lake District, or down in Devon, would be a nice easy day out. But at yesterday's altitude, it became one of the toughest days I have ever spent in the mountains. Afterwards, however, when the head stopped pounding and I had had a bit of sleep, I certainly felt proud of the achievement.

Thanks again to all who came along on tough Day Two, and also for all of the support and encouragement that was much needed. Four peaks in two days!

More on today's summits here:-

Mount Democrat

Mount Cameron

Mount Lincoln

Mount Bross

7 peaks - day 3.

Friday, August 28, 2009

We left the condo at Dillon at around 9am, and headed west towards Grand Junction. There were now only four in our group, myself, Val, Tim and Eric, the four who would be doing all of the peaks. We made a couple of stops, for fuel and to look at a pretty waterfall by the roadside. The main road, I-70, is spectacular, and at one point winds through a narrow gorge, where the river, railroad, and four lanes of traffic all vie for space, until it gets so narrow that the westbound lanes are built over the top of the eastbound lanes. There is also a cycle track that would be a fantastic ride, almost all downhill from the pass at Vail Summit.

At Glenwood Springs we headed south, and then turned off the main road to a place called Marble, where marble is quarried and shipped all over the country. We had lunch at a fantastic BBQ place called Woody's, and then headed on up into the mountains.

I had expressed an interest in seeing an abandoned town in the mountains, and for four miles we battled up the roughest track I have ever seen in my life. Nobody else seemed at all surprised by the road conditions, and when I asked, I was told that most mountain tracks are like this.

Eventually we arrived at Crystal Mill, which was such a surprise, as it seems to be in the middle of absolutely nowhere! It is very dilapidated, and a sign explained that the historical society was doing its best to keep it in reasonable shape, but that each year the tough, harsh winters would take their toll.

After looking at the mill, and clambering around taking photos, we continued up the track, and I was surprised to see a sign suggesting that we drive slowly through town! We came up over the top of a rise, and entered the town of Crystal. It used to be an old mining town, but had long since been abandoned except by a hardy few that return each summer and maintain the buildings. There was a small gift shop, and a few cabins that could be rented. It would certainly be an out-of-the-way holiday destination! Quite amazing to find there so high in the mountains.

It was almost dark by the time we arrived at Ouray, and we headed out of town to set up camp. Once organised we went back to town and we had a couple of beers with dinner at O'Briens pub, where we were joined by Eric's wife Jackie, sons Brian and Dylan, Loren and his sister Lisa, and Bob and Patrick. It was going to be a busy day on the mountain the next day!

Afterwards we headed out of town to our mountain campsite, and were all early to bed, ready for an early start.

7 peaks - day 4.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

5.30am seemed to come very quickly, and I was very comfortable in my sleeping bag, but it sounded like many of the others were up and about, so I dragged myself out of bed. It was still dark, and the sky was incredibly clear. Breakfast consisted of a handful of granola, and a breakfast bar, and a much appreciated cup of tea kindly provided by Eric.

The trip from camp to the trailhead in Tim's 4WD was extraordinary. I have never travelled on such rough roads, up and up into the mountains, an amazingly steep gorge dropping away right beside us. This trail made yesterdays trip up to Crystal look tame by comparison! Eventually we climbed out of the gorge into a huge basin surrounded by mountains on all sides, where we met John, who would also be joining us again, having missed the second day. The sun was coming up, and the views were stunning. We soon geared up, and headed on upwards.

The day's climb was much steeper and rockier than my previous 14ers, and although a bit slower than many of the others in our group, I felt pretty good, and climbed steadily at my own pace, making good progress. I even managed a bit of a conversation with Brian, Eric's son, until he took off at speed again.

The climb became even steeper, and before the peak, Loren sat astride a large buttress pointing the way. I opted for the more difficult climb, and really enjoyed the approach to the peak.

The peak of Mount Sneffels is 14,150' high, and offers a fantastic view of the surrounding mountains. Conditions were clear, and there was hardly a breath of wind. It really was amazingly beautiful. After the obligatory summit photos were taken, and the summit log book signed, many of our group soon started to head down. I held back, as did Loren, and as everyone else disappeared, we sat and enjoyed the view in silence. Colorado is truly a stunning, and very special place.

But the day's adventures were not yet over! After the return to the vehicles, we went back down to Ouray, and enjoyed both the hot springs and the beer festival in the park, followed by a fantastic Mexican meal. It is a lovely town hidden away at the end of a cliff-sided valley.

The next part of the journey took us over Engineer Pass, which goes from Ouray to Lake City, the highest point being 12,800'. It is an incredibly steep climb, over the roughest roads I have seen so far, and that really is saying something, after the roads I have seen so far! But the most incredible thing was that Loren elected to take his old Subaru Legacy over the pass too, along with the other 4WD vehicles.

Loren had bought the Legacy for $1,200, and it had over 160,000 miles on the clock. For those not familiar with the model, it is an all-wheel-drive vehicle, but has no extra clearance, and is really only a standard family vehicle. What Loren managed to do with it was brilliant, and the most entertaining part of the trip so far. The only damage was a broken fog lamp, and a couple of dents in the sills and floor pan. A truly awesome drive!

Here is a video that might give you a bit of an idea of how mad these Colorado guys are!

Engineer Pass via Subaru Legacy Video link:-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8wUXGtrIBQc

It was pretty dark by the time we got over the scary 12,800' summit of Engineer Pass, and I was sort of glad that I couldn't see the drop-off for most of the journey. We decided not to bother with tents, as it was so late, and simply emptied the truck beds out, and slept in the back of the pick ups. Alarms were set, and we looked forward to another 5.30am start! Five peaks in four days so far!

More on Mount Sneffels here, including a great panorama pic from the summit:-

Mount Sneffels

7 Peaks - day 5.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Once again the keen local boys were up before I was, and once again I had to force myself out of my warm sleeping bag. The flatbed of the pick-up had been surprisingly comfortable, and it had been a clear, dry night.

The early morning routine was becoming quite familiar, as people wandered around eating breakfast and packing bags for the day. When everyone was ready we made the mercifully short trip over the now unsurprisingly rough approach road to the trailhead, and were ready for departure at 7am.

On the early stages of the trail we bumped into the final additions to the day's climbing contingent, when we met Bruce and friends, Jerry, Kevin and Tim. The planned route to the summit of Wetterhorn Peak, at 14,015', was longer than yesterday's climb, and involved more vertical height gain too, so day by day things are getting tougher.

However, again I was feeling pretty good, and hoped that I would fare as well as yesterday, when I had had no real ill-effects from the altitude, other than the expected breathlessness.

Eventually the winding trail led to the saddle, and the climb became steeper, and just below the spectacular summit, the climbing became even more challenging and exposed. It was a great route, and again we were lucky at the summit to have some awesome views, as we were just below cloud base. The weather was closing in a bit though, and we had a brief flurry of snow on the summit before heading down again.

It was a long trek back down, but we maintained a good pace, except when we came across a couple of marmots sunning themselves on the rocks, reluctant to get out of our way. I had only seen smaller ones before, and had no idea that they grew so big. They are quite funny, squeaking as walkers go past, and dashing about without much fear of climbers. Eventually we made it back to the vehicles just inside the planned six hours.

Lunch was at the sleepy little town of Lake City, in the fascinatingly named Packer Saloon and Cannibal Grill. Read the story of Alfred Packer here - it is quite a tale:-

Alfred "Alferd" Packer, The Cannibal of Lake City, Colorado

Many of the large group we had gathered over the course of the weekend said their goodbyes, and finally we were left with the core group again of the four of us.

From Lake City we drove through Gunnison, and on into Salida, where it was raining by the time we arrived. Without too much discussion, it was agreed that a comfy room at the Days Inn was much preferable to a wet night at the campsite.

Another fantastic and challenging day in the mountains. Six summits in five days! Tomorrow is a planned rest day, although we are not planning on taking things too easy, as we are booked for a whitewater rafting trip first thing in the morning! See the following story for details of the whitewater rafting trip.

More on today's mountain here:

Wetterhorn Peak

7 peaks - day 7 - Goal 57 finally achieved!

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

We didn't quite get the early start we had hoped for, but were still on the trail towards South Colony Lake at the foot of the Crestones before the sun came up. Once again it looked like the weather was going to be kind to us, and we would have a full week of perfect conditions.

Above the lake the climbing soon became steeper, and the four of us made good progress towards the saddle. Above that the path became much steeper and rockier, and the hugely enjoyable climbing began.

The easiest route suggested climbing to about 13,800' up the east gully, then traversing into the easier top section of the west gully, but there is a slightly harder climb which continues up the east gully. I was climbing well, and felt pretty confident on the solid rock, and elected to continue straight up. I climbed fast, now above the others, and decided I wanted to be the first to the summit for my final peak, and pushed on, panting hard.

It was such a fantastic climb, in perfect conditions, on great, solid foot- and hand-holds, that despite the effort, I had a huge grin on my face. At the summit, I had about four or five minutes before Eric arrived, followed by Val and Tim. I signed the summit log book, and for a short time, I was the only person who had been on the summit of Crestone Needle during September!

The weather was perfect, not a breath of wind at the summit once again, but the view was quite hazy, we suspected because of huge bush fires currently burning to the west in California.

We sat in quiet reflection on the summit, our goal having been achieved, and were soon joined by Laura, who Val knows from his work, and her brother Brian. They were planning on continuing onward across a very steep looking traverse to Crestone Peak, which we had also considered, but had decided we would probably not do.

However, after some discussion, and a bit of time spent surveying the route Val, Eric and myself decided to join Laura and Brian. Tim, who has already done all of the Colorado 14ers, decided to head back the way we had come, and we all wished each other well.

The descent off the needle was a steep down-climb on good holds, but with quite an intimidating drop below. All our group managed without need to resort to the ropes we had, and we continued down and across the steep terrain towards the next summit.

Navigation through the steep crags was tricky, and we headed down one steep gully and around towards the next. There was more up and down climbing, and eventually we were almost below the summit of Crestone Peak. I elected to stay on the steeper, but solid rock and climb up, rather than head around to the next gully. Followed by Eric, we headed upwards, and reached the peak without too much difficulty, on great climbing holds in a fantastic location.

The others joined us, and there were congratulations all round. After a bite to eat it was time for the journey down, which took us down a steep, loose gully, probably the most dangerous part of the day, as occasionally a slip would send a rock cascading down to those lower down. All went well though, and after another steep climb down and out of the gully we reached better terrain, and slightly easier conditions along a rocky ridge.

I really was at the end of my stamina, and the journey back to the vehicles looked like an endless trudge ahead, and I was amazed and very impressed when Laura and Brian decided to collect a third 14er, by heading up the steep but easy slopes of Humbolt Peak.

We eventually reached the vehicles, and after a tortuous journey down the rough track, we made it back to Westcliffe, and treaded ourselves to a well-deserved beer and burger.

What a long, hard day. We were away from the vehicles for almost 12 hours, most of which was pretty tough going, but eventually we have not only managed to achieve the goal, but over-achieved by managing 8 peaks in 7 days. I think we all felt justifiably proud of ourselves.

I have had an amazing week here in Colorado, which really is a stunningly beautiful place. Despite all the miles we have driven, the tracks we have battled up, and the trails we have climbed, I feel like I have only just scratched the surface of this incredible place.

My hugest thanks to Val, who has done an incredible job of putting all of this together, and offering me a truly wonderful experience, and a tough, rewarding challenge. This goal has certainly been the one which has required the most consistent and long term effort, from cycling and swimming while in Perth, visiting the gym with Martin and Rachel in London, and climbing the steep hills of San Francisco, followed by a steadily increasing set of challenges here in Colorado.

Huge thanks also to Tim and Eric, who accompanied Val and I for the whole of the challenge, and did a fantastic job of driving around the whole enormous state, and up and down some of the most roughest roads I have ever seen.

And thanks of course to everybody else who came to join us on one or more of the peaks - Brenda, Jackie, Bryan and Dylan, Laura and Brian, Loren and Lisa, Bob, Patrick, Jerry and Mary, Paul, Justin, John, Amanda, Jonathon and Camilla, Eric and Aletha, Jack and Susan, Bruce, Jerry, Kevin and Tim. I hope I haven't missed anyone, but apologies if I have, I have met so many people here, and so many people have come along on the climbs. This really must be one of the fittest places I have ever been to! Great people, great place, great fun. Thank you all.

More info on the Crestones here:

Crestone Needle and Crestone Peak

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# Whitewater rafting

Goal 56 - Whitewater rafting.

Monday, August 31, 2009

Our day off from slogging up the mountains was far from relaxing. After a great night's sleep at the Days Inn, and a fine breakfast we were on our way to Raven Rafting at the head of Royal Gorge on the Arkansas River, where we met Diane, Val's cousin, who would be our fifth rafting team member for the day.

We were geared up, some of us opting for wetsuits, other tougher locals happy to simply wear shorts and t-shirts. I went for the warmer wetsuit option! A short minibus ride took us to our start point, and we launched pretty quickly, our guide Carrie happy to give us our instructions and safety talk once we got moving.

The first rapids were pretty shallow, and we scraped and bumped down them, and started to get our paddling teamwork together. We had arrived pretty much at the end of the rafting season, and the river was low, the flow being about 280 cfs (cubic feet per second). In June, when the river flow is at it highest, the flow can be over 3,000 cfs! However, the lower levels would make the trip quite technical, and would mean we would actually have to do alot more paddling to make our way through.

As the walls of the gorge narrowed and we entered the canyon the rapids got bigger, and we started to drop into some more exciting, tricky sections. At one point we got well and truly stuck, and Carrie later told me that I needed write in the blog for anyone familiar with the river that we were left at Bird Drop (oops!) in Sledgehammer Rapid! I guess we weren't meant to go that way! It certainly took some teamwork to get us out again.

The scenery was very spectacular, and the steep sided canyon had all sorts of interesting and unusual features. A railway ran through the gorge, and the train passed by a couple of times, filled with waving tourists. There were remnants a water pipe that used to run along just above the river, from a past era of mining here, now just a skeletal framework. There was a steep cog railway up out of the gorge, a rollercoaster that hung out high above us over the steep cliffs, and the highest suspension bridge I have ever seen!

Halfway down the river there was an opportunity to get out of the rafts and do some jumping off the cliffs, which was fun. Well done to Diane, who pushed herself to make the jump, and did so in fine style.

After a couple of final exciting rapids we began the easier final approach into Canon City, and I got to have a go at steering the raft, and calling out the instructions for the rest of the crew, which was fun, although I don't feel I was quite awarded the same amount of respect that our guide Carrie was!

What a fantastic trip, thanks again to Val for organising things, to Tim, Eric and Diane for joining in too, and of course, to Carrie, our wonderful guide, and the rest of the staff at Raven Rafting.

That night we made our way back up into the mountains, up a 4WD track out of Westcliffe that, believe it or not, made the previous tracks look relatively smooth. We found a fantastic campsite just below Colony Lakes, and made a campfire. I made the most of a couple of hours of down-time to try to catch up on writing about the previous days' adventures, which seemed to amuse the others. I admit it must look unusual to be sat in the middle of the wilderness with a computer perched on a log, but it's been a busy week, and you have to fit blog-writing in whenever possible!

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# Great Wall of China

Day One in Beijing.

Monday, November 9, 2009

I have just woken up from one of the longest sleeps I think I have ever had. I slept a wonderfully rejuvenating 14 hours last night!!

My last day in Kuala Lumpur was pretty long. After going to see the KL Tower in the morning I had to check out of my room at midday. However, I managed to store my bags at the hostel for the rest of the day, and was able to sit around in the lounge there too. I spent some more time wandering the city, and at around 8pm collected my bags and caught the bus to the airport.

I had booked my cheap return to Beijing with budget airline AirAsia, who fly out of a different terminal, and arrived in plenty of time to check in for my 1am departure. However, foggy conditions in Tianjin, the destination airport near Beijing meant our flight was delayed until 3am. The seats in the waiting area were not at all comfortable - not much sleep to be had there.

Eventually we arrived at Tianjin at 9am, and I caught the shuttle to the main railway station, and at a small cafe nearby tried to figure out what I could have for breakfast. I am finding it similar to my visit to Japan here, as the Chinese writing is a complete mystery, and very few places have English translations. In the end, I opted for pointing at a picture of a tasty looking dish above the counter, and received a bowl of watery noodles with two fried eggs on top!

The train to Beijing is a marvel of modern technology, a non-stop luxury journey of half an hour at speeds up to 350 kph. At Beijing South Railway Station I found the subway easily, as signs are in English here too, and got on the correct train. However, I got off at the wrong stop, and my walk to the hostel I had booked bore no relevance to the map I had copied from the internet. In the end I gave up and caught a taxi, which cost me 13 Yuan, or around $2.

Lancy lives in Beijing, and a while ago had been given an assignment by her English teacher to summarise an article about some crazy guy in Australia who had put his whole life up for sale on eBay! (Her words, not mine!) She had followed my adventures from there onto my 100 goals adventure, and had emailed me to offer to help me out in Beijing.

She and her friend Jenny were waiting for me at the hostel, and after dumping my bags we headed out for a wander around the local area. They took me around an area called Nan Luo Gu Xiang, where the narrow streets, or hutongs, were filled with locals, and quite a few tourists too. We ate all sorts of interesting foods from shop windows and street carts - spicy tofu pieces, sweet cakes, pork-filled dumplings, strange soups and hot sweet potatoes.

My first impressions of Beijing? It's cold here after coming from Malaysia. Temperature in the afternoon was around 12 deg C, but it drops to near freezing in the evening. It is a busy place, and apparently it gets busier, as Sunday afternoon is relatively quiet. It is, like Kuala Lumpur, a fascinating mixture of sleek modern and old traditional. Interesting sights, such as people playing chess or mah jong at street cafes. Strange and unusual foods.

I wandered happily soaking it all up and chatting with Lancy and Jenny, who were wonderful hosts. At times I would feel my head swim a little with tiredness, but it was all too new and exciting to miss out on. At one point I was suddenly hit by the realisation that I was in Beijing in China!! That happens to me every now and then as I travel, and sometimes am struck by exactly where I am or what I am doing.

Later in the evening the girls dropped me off at home again. It still amazes me how quickly I now start to refer to a new place as home, even though I had spent only a few minutes there. Wherever I lay my hat... The girls went to catch their bus, and after quickly checking my email, ten minutes later I was fast asleep on my bed!

Thanks to my wonderful guides, what a great introduction to this fascinating city.

Tian'anmen Square

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

My first port of call yesterday was Jingshan Park, which is only a short walk from my hostel. There is a large hill with several temple buildings on top, which overlook the North Gate of the huge Forbidden City below, was the Chinese imperial palace from the Ming Dynasty to the end of the Qing Dynasty. The hill was actually made from the earth removed to make the enormous moat around the Forbidden City.

Unfortunately the weather was cold and overcast, so the view was not as spectacular as I imagine it could be. I walked down to the gate of the Forbidden City, having to run the gauntlet of over-enthusiastic postcard sales people and potential guides, presumably unofficial.

Some of the signs here are very entertaining, the "Engrish" being a bit tricky to understand sometimes. At the entrance to the Forbidden City I was reminded: "Please be self-restraint and be a good tourist to mold a well-mannered imagination." Huh???

I decided to miss out on the Forbidden City, as time was already getting on, and instead decided to mold my well-mannered imagination by walking around the outside, eventually arriving at the very impressive Tian'anmen Square, apparently the world's largest city-centre public space.

There were a couple of the biggest TV displays I have ever seen celebrating 60 years of the People's Republic of China, and people wandered the wind-blown area admiring the statues of the heroes of the revolution.

I was amazed to realise that it is now 20 years since the Tian'anmen Square massacre, when an estimated 400 to 800 protesters were killed, in what would seem to be a somewhat heavy-handed government response when the tanks rolled into the square on the 4th June 1989. More information here:

Tiananmen Square protests of 1989

Somewhat coincidentally, China banned any internet access in May this year to sites such as Blogger, Facebook and YouTube, some suggest to prevent too much discussion of what happened 20 years ago.

This has made things very tricky for me, as I use Blogger for my blog, of course. I was mystified initially when I kept getting a blank page, but a quick Google search for "Blogger China" soon provided some answers. I tried a couple of the suggestions for how to work around the issue, but to no avail. Eventually I had to resort to plan B, sending my blog text to a friend in Australia who can post it for me. Ha, even the Chinese government can't silence the 100 goals blog!

I now wonder if maybe that's why I got so many questions when trying to get a visa for China, when I put "Travel Writer" in the occupation box. (Well, what else could I say my job is - I don't really have one, do I?) They wanted to know alot about what I was writing. The guy at the next window, a writer of financial reports was also having similar issues!

By late afternoon it was getting really cold, and I decided that I had done more than enough sight-seeing in grim conditions, and caught the subway home, buying a dinner of some very strange-looking sandwiches from the local bakery, and enjoyed a quiet evening back at the hostel.

Summer Palace on a winter's day

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

When I got up this morning I discovered that there had been at least 6 inches of snow overnight. I wrapped up warm and headed out to find some breakfast, settling for fruit as an easy option, and then made my way to the subway, heading for the Summer Palace, on the outskirts of the city.

The huge park and spectacular temple on top of the hill overlooking the lake all looked very picturesque with a blanketing of snow, and at times the sun made a brief appearance too, to complete the scene. I wandered for a couple of hours among hoards of tour groups, all usually wearing identical caps to distinguish them from other, almost identical groups.

My next stop, after a fantastic mystery omelette-sort-of-thing from a street cart, was Olympic Park, site of the 2008 Olympics. The "Bird's Nest" Stadium is eye-catching, and the wide boulevard nice to stroll along, albeit it with thousands of other visitors too, and once again plagued by the touts selling all sorts of rubbish.

As it started to get dark my final stop for the day was the wonderful night market, filled with a mind-boggling array of weird and wonderful foods, most grilled on sticks over a barbeque, and simply eaten as you wander along. I saw, grilled on sticks, among other things, scorpions, seahorses and starfish. And that was just the stuff I recognised! I stuck with slightly more familiar choices for dinner!

This really is an unusual place! Once again I am interested in how the travelling attitude to prices can shift very quickly. Here you get about 6.6 yuen to a US dollar. A night at the hostel costs around 70 yuen, pretty good value. I could hire a bicycle from a street vendor for 24 hours for the princely sum of 20 yuen (that's around $3, for a day!). But I was appalled when I found a Starbucks, and a small cup of coffee was going to cost me 26 Yuan. That's 4 bucks for a coffee \- outrageous! The best vale I have seen is petrol, at 1 yuen per litre, which is about 15 cents, or around 60 cents per gallon. No wonder the taxis here are so cheap!

It's all just so different and so interesting.

Forbidden City

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

I had another touristy day today, first catching the bus to visit The Temple of Heaven. It was pretty nice, although perhaps not as spectacular as The Summer Palace was yesterday. Just as interesting, and much more amusing, was the wide variety of karaoke singing, and impromptu dancing that was going on in the park, all to the sound of Chinese music distorted at maximum volume through tiny portable speakers!

My next stop was the final place on my tourist list of Beijing, and I think I had saved the best 'til last. I caught the subway from The Temple of Heaven, and wandered through Tian'anmen Square again to the south entrance of the Forbidden City. Once I negotiated my way through the minefield of sales people and potential guides, I entered what was once the palatial home of many Chinese Emperors.

The place is absolutely huge. I wandered through the centre of the open palace, and through some of the main temples, until I finally reached the north gate.

I then headed back south through the western section, and finally north again via the eastern side. This took several hours.

Apparently there are 999 rooms, one short of the perfect number that is believed to be heavenly. From a look at the map, it looks like only about half of the place is open to wander through, huge areas closed off, or undergoing restoration.

The huge open centre section is impressive, but interesting too is the labyrinth of rooms and passageways to either side. An emperor could easily get lost in there! You would have to live there for months to really know your way around.

All of the rooms have wonderful names. For example, I passed through the Hall of Supreme Harmony, the Palace of Earthly Tranquillity and the Hall of Mental Cultivation, among many other equally grandly named spaces. It's all very impressive.

I finished the day off by borrowing a bicycle from the hostel and heading for the bank, making the possible mistake of throwing myself headlong into rush hour traffic on the rattliest, wobbliest bike I have ever ridden! The cycling and traffic is chaotic, and the trip was hilarious and terrifying in approximately equal measure. I'm pretty sure my travel insurance doesn't cover this kind of extreme activity!

Finally, a couple of random things I have learned about China:-

Spitting is a national pastime. Male or female, it doesn't matter. And the more hawking and guttural noise you make before the big spit, the better! And you can spit anywhere, footpath, road, temple, it doesn't seem to matter!

Foreigners pay a different price for many things. I bought some fantastic bread this morning at a tiny little window outlet. The woman in front of me got three spicy hot bread rolls, gave 2 Yuan, and got some change. I bought two rolls, gave 2 Yuan, and got nothing back but a confused look. Upon my return later in the afternoon, I bought three rolls, and the asking price was 6 Yuan. This is the point where I made a stand, and simply paid 3 Yuan, which was accepted without question. I am pretty sure I still overpaid. It is one of the tastiest breads ever, and 3 Yuan is 45 cents, so I'm not complaining!

Public toilets can be pretty hit and miss, literally! Many are squat hole-in-the-ground type, and accuracy seems to be a bit of an issue with some of the locals! Another very important lesson to learn is that each cubicle (that is if you actually in a toilet block with the luxury of a cubicle at all) does not have it's own supply of paper! Don't discover this by trial and error! Collect your paper from the communal paper dispenser before heading for your cubicle.

I visited one toilet today, optimistically labelled as 4 Star by the Beijing Tourism Administration. (It's somebody's job to go around giving out star ratings for toilets!!) I couldn't help but notice this, as the sign was proudly displayed above the paper dispenser that served both ladies and gents toilets!!

Goal 64 - Walking on the Chinese Wall.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

" _He who has not climbed the Great Wall is not a true man." Mao Zedong._

Well, I guess finally I can truly call myself a man now, as today I got to climb and walk along the Great Wall of China at last.

I was hoping that Lancy was going to be able to join me, and our plan was to go out to one of the older, less touristy sections of the wall, where you have to get a bus (or tour) to one point, then can walk a 10 kilometre section of the wall, and organise return transport from there (or catch your tour bus back!)

But the forecast was for the weather to get much worse, with predictions of heavy snow to come, so in the end I had to make a practical decision, and decided to at least go and see the wall today. There is a much more accessible section, apparently frequented by hoards of tourists, but from pictures I had seen, it still looks quite spectacular.

So I was up and dressed warmly first thing this morning, and as I made my way to the local bus stop in the darkness, the snow had already started. The bus took me to a nearby bus station, where I transferred onto a long distance bus, and an hour and a half later we approached Badaling, site of a section of the wall.

The snow had been falling all morning and was getting thick on the road, and with amusing inevitability, when we stopped on a hill, the bus started to slide, and eventually ended up completely stuck. I opted to walk the rest of the way with a few of the locals, and 15 minutes later arrived at the entrance to the wall itself.

On both sides of the valley the wall headed steeply uphill, looking almost exactly as I had expected it to, apart from the fact that higher up it just disappeared into shrouds of mist and snow. There were quite a few people about, and several larger tour groups, but I suspect that the weather meant numbers were much lower than on a nicer day.

I bought my ticket, and decided to head up the eastern section first, as there were alot less people going that way. This section of the wall, which in total covers thousands of miles, has been extensively restored, and is in very good condition, although perhaps somewhat less authentic than many older sections which are not so accessible to tour buses.

After a steep, snowy, slippy climb I reached a fortress at the top of the hill, and was greeted by my first and only salesman of the day - the bad weather must keep all but the hardiest of them away too. A few more people had made it that far too, but the wall continued, and the snow on the next section was completely untrodden.

A small extra effort always reaps rewards, and for the next section, I had the wall completely to myself for over half an hour. At the end of the section open to the public, the wall continues, but has not been restored, and looked very appealing, but unfortunately, due to a huge spiked fence, I had to turn round, and headed back down to join the throngs.

I headed up the other side among larger groups of visitors, all of us struggling and laughing in the treacherously slippy conditions. At the top, many groups were loudly taking photos, but once again, an extra hundred yards of semi-skiing down the next, steep slippy section meant I had the wall to myself again.

Afterwards, I headed back down to the valley, and discovered that the buses were still not running up the Badaling road, so had to walk a couple of miles down to the main highway to catch a bus back to the city. I would have caught a taxi, but only had enough cash left for the bus and a bite to eat!

What a great day out, made so much better I think by the snow and tricky conditions, which meant it was a much more unique and personal experience, in what could have just been a heaving tourist trap location.

Goal 64 is also number 4 of the "New 7 Wonders of the World". Machu Picchu, Christ The Redeemer and Taj Mahal still to see!

Wild Great Wall.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Lancy and I had discussed a trip to a much older section of the Great Wall, which she referred to as the "Wild Great Wall", but in the early part of the week the weather was deteriorating, eventually ending in Thursday's big snowstorm, which ironically was the day I decided to go to Badaling to see that part of the wall on my own, resulting in quite an adventurous day. When I saw the newspaper on Friday morning, it said that it had been a bad day, several people dying under collapsed roofs, and the government declaring an orange alert! What a day to pick to go on an expedition!

Friday morning though, as forecast, was warmer and there was a beautiful clear blue sky. I went out on the bicycle again (I'm like a local now) to buy some breakfast and some supplies for the day, and packed my bag.

I caught the bus to the long distance bus station, where at 1pm I met Lancy as we'd arranged. A couple of hours on another bus would take us to Miyun, but our adventure started early, when our bus, which had been smelling strongly of burning gearbox oil for quite some time, finally ground to a halt!

In the process of moving on to a new bus, we somehow managed to end up with an old lady practically attached to us, probably because I was the only foreigner on the bus. She kept telling us we should get off the bus early to catch a taxi to the Great Wall. We ignored her suggestion, as Lancy made some enquiries with other people on the bus, giving us better information. It is very nice to have a Chinese-speaking person with me.

At Miyun our old lady continued to shadow us, babbling incessantly at poor Lancy, trying to convince us the only option was to pay 300 Yuen (about $42) for a taxi! At the small tour shop that runs the local bus, bad news! No more buses were running, as it was Friday afternoon - not sure about the logic of this really. However, our old lady seemed more optimistic about her chances, but she was really starting to bug us.

Eventually Lancy produced results, and we were told where to go to get a shared minibus or taxi. We finally shed our old lady when she realised we had solved our problem, and some tough negotiations later we were on our way to Jinshangling, for the much more reasonable price of 50 Yuan ($7) for us both.

At Jinshangling, where the temperature was bitterly cold, we found some reasonable accommodation for 55 Yuan each ($8), which again after some negotiation, at which Lancy was quickly becoming very good, would include dinner and breakfast.

In the morning we got up fairly early, and after breakfast made our way up to the wall. The sun was out again, and we started to warm up a little as we climbed out of the valley shadows.

Up on the wall itself the views were stunning, and we could see the wall snaking off into the distance over the mountains in both directions, each mountain peak having a watch tower perched on top.

The day couldn't have been better. The sun was out, and there wasn't a breath of wind. The wall still had an icy covering of snow on the top, making it look stunningly bright. And best of all, because we had arrived the day before and got a good start, we were ahead of any of the tour groups that would be coming along later, and literally had the whole wall to ourselves for as far as we could see in either direction.

Our route would take us along the wall for about 10 kilometres, up and down the mountains, passing through the watch towers on each summit. Every step of the way offered the most amazing photographic opportunities \- the views were gorgeous.

Some parts of the wall were pretty well maintained, but some parts were crumbling away, and at the steeper sections, especially covered in snow and ice, it was pretty treacherous, but we took our time, and had no real problems.

We walked for around four hours through the most incredible, wonderful landscape, and I tried to explain to Lancy how this absolutely perfect experience exceeded all my expectations about what it would be like to walk on the Great Wall. It truly was one of the finest days I have ever spent in the mountains. We were both very happy that we had made the extra effort to make our own, individual trip, rather than join a larger group on an organised tour.

We didn't hurry, and sat for a while eating our supplies and admiring the view. After a little over four hours, which seemed to have passed in no time at all, we crossed a suspension bridge over Simatai Lake, and descended from the wall down into the small town of Simatai itself.

More negotiations got us a reasonable taxi back to Miyun, and we caught the next bus back to Beijing. At the main station there Lancy and I parted ways, as I headed back to the hostel and she headed home. I will be eternally grateful to her for being such a great tour guide, interpreter, companion, and all round entertainer - I couldn't have asked for better company on such a marvellous adventure.

I had a quick shower at the hostel, grabbed my bags and hit the road. Time to leave Beijing, and head for Thailand next. Thanks again to Lancy for her help and advice in many of the things I did in Beijing. Thanks also to all the helpful and friendly staff at the Sitting On The City Walls Courtyard Hotel, which was a great place to stay right in the centre of Beijing.

I really have had a fantastic time here, and certainly hope to be back to see more of China. What a fascinating, friendly, fun place to visit.

Chinese opera on the Great Wall.

Monday, November 16, 2009

I took a few video clips on the snowy, misty Badaling section of the Great Wall. There was a loud speaker system all the way along the wall, which played the same message over and over again, which spoiled the atmosphere a little, particularly when I had walked past the tourist hoards, and found a section of the wall all to myself.

Lancy translated the message for me, telling me that it was a warning about the slippery, icy conditions, and to please take care.

Fortunately there was no such touristy nonsense on the much more remote sections of wall we visited a couple of days later at Jinshaling and Simatai, but I couldn't resist getting Lancy to issue a stern Chinese warning.

And who would have thought before I began any of this, that my journey would take me to a remote section of the Great Wall Of China, without another soul in sight, where I would have some Chinese opera sung to me!! Awesome! One of the highlights of my journey so far. See my Chinese video here:-

Chinese Opera on The Great Wall Video link

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PmoSl5Q0mt8

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# Deep sea fishing

Deadliest catch!!

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

I have had a couple of relaxing days around San Diego, and enjoyed catching up again with John and Ivy on Saturday, including a look around the historic US Grant Hotel where John works. On Sunday I met again with Kurtiss for breakfast at Hash-House-a-Go-Go, which was obviously a very popular place judging by the huge line of customers waiting for a seat. It was well worth the wait, and the scrambled egg breakfast I had with bacon and avocado was delicious.

Then yesterday Dennis and I went to the world-renowned San Diego Zoo, and spent a few hours wandering the impressive displays. My favourite was the Elephant Odyssey, where the spectacular creatures had a huge area to roam in, and were encouraged to forage for their food, having to roam around the unusual artificial trees to find their next meal, much as they would have to do in the wild.

Late yesterday afternoon I went to Willy's house, where we geared up his boat and headed for the boat launch ramp, planning to spend the evening catching lobsters offshore.

After we made our way out of the bay around Loma Point, Willy set the nets, and we waited for the sun to set. When it was dark we pulled the nets in, and things looked good, a couple of the nets having six or seven of the California Spiny Lobsters in them.

Unfortunately they were all undersize, and all had to go back. For the rest of the night we reset the nets again, and then went round and pulled them back in again. Well, to be more accurate, Willy did most of this, as I sat holding a flashlight for him, and feeling slightly seasick.

During the course of the evening, as well as a couple of crabs and one ugly looking fish (poisonous apparently!), we must have caught at least 40 lobsters, but not one was big enough to keep, and eventually at around 11pm we gave up and headed for home. The lobsters I promised to bring home for Dennis and Mary had to be kindly provided by Willy from the freezer from a previous evening's haul.

Today it is time to head back up to LA, and hopefully finally achieve my "movie extra" goal, and get some practice in for the next goal on the list \- more info to follow soon.

Many thanks to all in San Diego who have made my time here hugely enjoyable. It was great to catch up again with friends that I first met in Pamplona. Thanks to John, Ivy and Kurtiss for their local restaurant-guiding services, and to Willy for a great fishing adventure. And huge thanks too to Dennis and Mary for their wonderful warm hospitality kindly offered to a random internet stranger friend of their son! Very much appreciated.

The Old Man and The Sea!

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Christmas Island is a fascinating place to explore. I went out for a cycle ride the other morning, which became a steep hill-climb through the forest when the gravel road came to an end. The ground is alive with red crabs crawling about among the leaves on the forest floor. The male crabs have done their bit now, mating with the females a week or so ago, and are now heading back into the interior of the island in vast numbers. It's quite spectacular.

Rob, a teacher here on the island, saw my advert in the local paper as I was looking for accommodation, and invited me for a delicious dinner, which his wife Ebony made for us. He took me to the road near the school, which as the afternoon cools down, becomes very busy with crabs. After dinner we headed out along with other dinner guests John, Amy and Izzy to look for robber crabs in the forest.

When we spotted out first one I was amazed - they are HUGE! We stopped and John picked one up. It was incredibly heavy when he handed it to me, and I was pretty nervous of the huge claws. It is like some nightmare creature out of a horror movie, and is bigger than a soccer ball. Very impressive.

I have been doing quite alot of cycling around, and late afternoon and early evening is the best time, as it gets a bit cooler, and the crabs start getting much more active.

Last night I got a call from Brad, whose wife works at the school with Rob. Did I want to go out fishing in the morning, he wondered? I was up at 4.30am, and we were on the water not long after 5am, as the full moon was setting.

It didn't take too long before a couple of the reels were whizzing out, and I grabbed the one on my side, and under Brad's direction reeled in what seemed like a whopper. It put up a bit of a fight, but apparently is only a reasonable sized wahoo. It's the biggest fish I've ever caught!

As I reeled it in it was being chased by a shark looking for an easy meal, but Brad got the wahoo in over the side before the shark managed to get a bite! Talk about excitement!

The rest of the morning was less eventful. Brad thought we hooked a couple of sailfish, but they became "the ones that got away", and on the way back in I caught a small barracuda. Brad cleaned the fish, and we fed the carcass remains to the trevally, biggish reef fish near the shore, which devoured the leftovers enthusiastically.

At Braydon's apartment I had delicious fresh fish for lunch, and cleaned and cut the rest, storing it in both the fridge and freezer. We have enough fish to last for weeks!

Thanks to all here on Christmas Island who have made me feel so welcome so far, and invited me to join in with the activities going on here.

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# Icebergs

Goal 68 - Iceberg adventure.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Car hire in Iceland seems outrageously expensive, and for a while I was trying to co-ordinate a trip with a couple of other fellow couchsurfers, sharing car and fuel costs, but one person changed their mind, and another never made it to Iceland at all, as her flight was cancelled.

So it was back to the drawing board again. I suggested to a few of my contacts here that they might like to come on a trip, but most of them have to deal with the inconvenience of a job, and nobody that I know here could join me.

I had considered the bus, but there is only one bus during the week, which goes to Hofn, past where I want to be. And the cost one-way is a ludicrous 11.900 Icelandic Krona - that's over $100. A flight from Reykjavik to Hofn is only a little bit more, at 13,900 ISK. But in winter there are no tours from Hofn to the lagoon I wanted to go to, so a car was the only option.

I had been given the phone number of a person who hires out their own car on a slightly cheaper, and much less formal basis than the car hire places, and I gave her a call last night. A deal was struck, and this morning Hildur dropped me off there just before 9am, and I was surprised to be simply handed the key, even before I had been to the bank to change some money, and was told where the car was.

I had a bit of an issue at the bank, when they refused to change my Australian Dollars ("We don't take them!") but after a couple of tries I found a card in my wallet that produced some cash from the ATM. I paid for the car, and without any form of ID or paperwork being required, I was on my way. I didn't ask any questions - I'm sure the whole arrangement falls into somewhat of a grey area legally, but I was happy with the price I was paying.

It was still dark as I headed south-west out of the city, and a couple of hours later, as the sky brightened and an orange dawn revealed the bleak landscape, I passed through the tiny town of Vik, where I intended to return for the evening.

Another couple of hours driving eventually brought me to my destination, Jokulsarlon, or Glacier Lagoon at the foot of Europe's largest glacier, Vatnajokull. The thermometer in the car had been reading between minus 4 and minus 9 degrees Centigrade for most of the journey, but a howling wind had made it feel much colder every time I had stopped to take a picture.

I wrapped up as warm as I could, adding extra layers to both body and legs, and headed out for a look around. The lagoon has been created by the glacier, and as huge chunks of ice break from the end of the glacier, they float into the lagoon, and sail around until they melt enough to get through the narrow lagoon outlet to the sea. The lagoon has been measured to be 190 metres deep in places.

In winter the lagoon becomes frozen over, and the boat trips that run during summer are closed. There were still patches of water, but all of the icebergs were frozen in place, and there was the occasional creaking and groaning as the wind tried to shift the looser ones.

There wasn't a single other person there - no wonder really, as it was incredibly cold, but a clear sunny sky lit up the icebergs and sheets of ice in dazzling whites and blues. It was very beautiful, and when out of the wind behind a hill, silent and peaceful.

I walked for an hour and a half, but time ran out, as the sun set at 3.30pm ,and it started to get dark again. It's only been light officially for just over four hours, and is the shortest day of the year. This is the furthest north I have ever been, just below the Arctic Circle, so today has officially been the shortest day of my life!

I walked as far as the end of the glacier itself, where the newest, biggest icebergs are locked in the ice. From far away they had looked small, but close up they towered impressively, and it is quite staggering to think that nine-tenths of their bulk is hidden under the water, and below that lies the deep dark, icy cold depths of the lagoon. It would be awesome to dive under the ice around the icebergs! Maybe something for the next list?

Like some of my other goals, this one has been a little harder to arrange than I thought it might be, and cost quite a bit more, but that makes it all the more satisfying to eventually achieve.

What a beautiful place, and incredible to have all to myself, even if only for the shortest day!

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# Ostrich riding

Goal 72 - riding a real ostrich this time!

Saturday, January 9, 2010

After the excitement of the shark cage dive we headed further east along the coast to the Garden Route, and stopped in a picturesque little town called Wilderness, where Martin and Rachel found a luxurious room, and I got a cheapie dorm bed at the backpacker hostel, which had a fantastic view along the coast.

The next day we took it easy, and played a round of golf, in which I was soundly thrashed by both Martin and Rach, and then spent another night in Wilderness.

A drive up into the spectacular mountains early on Saturday took us to the ostrich-farming town of Oudtshoorn (pronounced "oats-horn") where at the huge Safari Ostrich Show Farm we met up with marketing manager Billy.

I had emailed a couple of ostrich (or volstruis in Afrikaans) farms, and Billy had replied, offering to help out with my ostrich-riding goal. He introduced me to ostrich handler Leon, and before long Martin and I were climbing aboard a huge male ostrich called Sarkozy for a couple of photos.

And then it was time for me to try to actually ride Sarkozy. The last time I was aboard an "ostrich", it was much easier to handle, as I completed Goal 55 back in August last year, leaping from Worthing Pier in the annual Birdman competition.

This time the real thing was alot feistier, and I climbed aboard, following Leons instructions. He had asked if I wanted the tame, tourist ride, where the ostrich handlers would support me, or if I wanted the "adventure ride"! I imagine you can guess what I picked - I should have maybe stuck with the tamer option, as the eventual, inevitable fall off was pretty painful! Check out the video below, which is accompanied by an awesome laugh-track from Leon. After my ride, there is an idea of how the professionals do it:-

Ostrich Ride Video link:-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ny5XwmnSDk

Afterwards we went on the farm tour, which was very interesting. They really are quite incredible birds. The whole set up is very professional, and the tour we took was the sort of thing I had expected from the shark dive operator too.

We saw video of the hatchery where the eggs are incubated, and then saw chicks in the paddocks, and several different types of ostriches from different areas of Africa - all very educational and informative. After photos and rides for some of our tour group, the grand finale, the spectacular ostrich race, was brilliant.

What a fantastic fun goal to achieve. Huge thanks to Billy from the Safari Ostrich Show Farm for making this possible. And thanks also to Martin and Rachel for getting us there, their immense patience for driving me all over South Africa, and for joining in with yet another goal.

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# Bungee jump #2

Goal #2 revisited.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Martin and Rachel have flights booked out of Cape Town to Johannesburg, where they plan to go on safari to Kruger National Park, so it was time for them to start heading westwards once again, and after a last night in a lovely waterfront apartment in Knysna, we drove to Plettenberg Bay for a quick look around, and then they dropped me off on the main highway, where we said our goodbyes. My plan was to try to hitch to Bloukrans Bridge, about 50 kilometres further east.

I was stood there for about half an hour, when I got the offer of paying for a ride in a shared minibus taxi. It was cheap enough, so I was on my way, and soon booked into the hostel just by the bridge.

Bloukrans Bridge is the highest single span concrete arch bridge in the world, and with a maximum height of 216 metres above the stream far below, it is very impressive. At the bridge, Face Adrenalin runs the world's highest bridge bungee jump, even bigger than the Pont de l'Arluby in France, which I jumped off in 2008, achieving my second goal. The French jump is the third-highest bridge bungee at 182 metres.

It is a very slick, professional setup, with a fantastic viewpoint. There is even a pub overlooking the jump, with a live video feed too. The hostel is also only metres away, and I was the only person booked in at first, and was left with the place completely to myself for the afternoon and evening. I took a wander out onto the bridge in the evening after the bungee jump shut down - it really is knee-tremblingly high!

Later in the evening a young German couple, Sandor and Melanie, joined me at the hostel, and the three of us had a quiet evening in the otherwise empty hostel.

In the morning I hummed and hah'ed about jumping, as it's pretty expensive, although quite a bit cheaper than the French jump had been. But in the end, I decided that I may never be back this way, and after all, it is the biggest bridge bungee in the world!!

Nobody is allowed to take cameras out onto the bridge at all, but out on the bridge I had a quiet chat with Clive, whose wife runs the hostel, and he sent me back to get my camera and glove, which is very secure when all fastened up.

The jump itself is fantastic, with about four seconds of freefall before the elastic starts to stretch, and as I jumped, I counted and did a practice parachute pull, as if it was a BASE jump - maybe one day, I don't know!! One of the jump operators spotted me do it, and as he collected me at the bottom of the elastic, he asked if I was a skydiver.

Goal 2 achieved again!! Awesome!!

Bungee Jump #2 Video link:-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xhiVYarWPM

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Yes, there is a jumper in the picture above!! See if you can spot him.

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# Machu Picchu

Machu Pichu misery.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

My goal of seeing Machu Picchu has increased in difficulty, it would seem almost to the point of being impossible. A week or so ago the Cusco and Machu Picchu area suffered torrential downpours, resulting in mudslides and avalanches throughout the region. On the Inca Trail, the four-day trek leading to Machu Picchu, a local guide and a tourist were killed by a mudslide. The Inca Trail has now been closed.

The railway line which connects Cusco with Aguas Calientes, the town which is the base for visiting Machu Picchu, runs along the banks of the River Urubamba, and large sections of rail have been swept away, effectively cutting off the town of Aguas Calientes. Tourists and locals had to be airlifted out of Aguas Calientes over a period of days as weather closed in again, and food and water supplies ran out.

It is now estimated that the rail line will take around two months to repair, and Machu Picchu has been closed, for an estimated similar period of time.

My visit to Machu Picchu has been planned to fit nicely between seeing Easter Island and the Carnival in Rio in mid February, with a stop off on the way for a quick visit to Iguazu falls. And so I have had my flights all booked since the end of November, from Santiago to Lima, Lima to Cusco, and then on the 9th of February, from Cusco to Lima and on to Buenos Aires.

Over the past few days I have heard nothing but words of warning, and messages of doom and gloom regarding my chances of getting to see Machu Picchu, and the realistic side of me has to agree, it does seem like an impossible task under the current circumstances.

However, as I had already paid for my tickets, and any change will incur heavy penalties, I decided to continue on to Cusco, and see how the situation looked when I got there. As always, I try to maintain a positive outlook, and hope for the best. I also tend to think that you have to look at the problem from all sides, and seek an alternative option that others may not consider. I have a couple of ideas that are worth investigating, and haven't given up on this goal yet!

It's only a short flight from Lima, and I arrived in Cusco at around 11am, and made my way to Ronnie's apartment. Ronnie is another couchsurfing contact that my friend Val got in touch with, and he is kindly accommodating us for our stay in Cusco. Val is scheduled to arrive a couple of days after me, so my task now is to try to find some way of resolving our Machu Picchu dilemma.

Cusco itself was also hit by flooding, but as I have wandered around town this afternoon, it is hard to tell, as all seems to have returned to normal now, apart from some obvious places where water has pulled away alot of earth, or part of a pathway.

The city is very eye-catching, with green mountains on all sides. I was surprised to find that it is much bigger than I expected, and I discovered that around 500,000 people live here. At an altitude of 3,400 metres (I think that's around 11,000 feet) it is one of the highest cities in the world.

I wandered around taking photos of the city squares and ornate cathedrals and churches, ate in a tiny cafe, and wandered some more, and then attended to practical matters, and took most of my clothes to a nearby laundry for some much needed cleaning.

I had a long chat with Ronnie about Machu Picchu possibilities, and also did some research around town. More news to follow if and when we get anything organised!

Mal de altura!

Thursday, February 4, 2010

I would have had a great day in Cusco yesterday if it wasn't for the awful altitude sickness that made the day pretty miserable. At over 11,000 feet above sea level, it is a very sudden change from Lima, and on my arrival day, apart from a little dizziness and plenty of huffing and puffing walking along anything but flat ground, I thought I was going to be fine.

However, as evening approached I started to develop a bit of a headache, and went to bed fairly early. I had a very restless night, sleeping very little, and feeling somewhat feverish. Yesterday morning I felt truly dreadful, and after a quick chat with Ronnie and his brother Willy, who had booked me a tour in the afternoon, I went straight back to bed.

I felt much better when I woke again, and walked into the city centre to catch the tour bus. The tour was very interesting, taking in five Inca locations in and around town, but at the first hint of uphill walking, my head was pounding again. I hadn't eaten much, and really didn't feel like anything at all.

As the tour progressed we climbed higher into the hills around Cusco, and the views of the city were fantastic, but now at over 12,000 feet I found it hard to be very interested at all. I was simply longing for a headache tablet and my bed. It is hard to describe just how awfully debilitating altitude sickness can be.

I managed to force a sandwich down with a cup of coffee on the last stop of the tour, and I felt a little better by the time we got back down at Cusco. In the first pharmacy I found I bought some tablets for "mal de altura", and an hour later felt fine. I managed some dinner, and had an early night.

I woke at 6am, and felt absolutely marvellous. I had another altitude tablet just to be sure, and headed for the airport to meet Val, who was coming in on the early flight from Lima. I have been looking forward to joining up with Val again, as I had such a good couple of weeks with him and his friends in Colorado back in August last year.

We dropped his bags off at Ronnie's, and went for some breakfast and a quick walk around the city. Continuing our Machu Picchu research, we called into a couple of tour operators to ask about the possibility of getting there. Most responses today were very negative, and the tourist information office in the city centre gave us a very definite "No way!"

We found one agent that was a little more encouraging, but had nothing definite to offer. Back at Ronnie's he seemed much more positive about getting to Aguas Calientes, but from there says that he can make no promises, as the bridge which crosses the river there was possibly going to be demolished, as it has suffered so much damage. If the bridge is gone there is no way across to the Machu Picchu side of the river at all.

So we really have no idea how this may all pan out, but as of this moment the plan is to set off early tomorrow and try to get to Santa Maria by bus, from there by car to Santa Teresa, car again if possible to Hidro Electrica, and then trek along what remains of the rail line to Aguas Calientes. This section may involve some detours into the jungle around missing or flooded sections of line, but we hope to get to Aguas Calientes by the end of the day. It is certainly going to be a challenge and an adventure, to say the least, as we will be some of the first people to try to do this since disaster struck, and nobody knows how bad things are yet on this route.

Obviously I don't intend to take the computer with me, so if all goes according to plan, and we set off early tomorrow, this will be that last blog for a few days, until we return to civilisation!!

Goal 75 - Machu Picchu challenges!! Day 1

Sunday, February 7, 2010

On the evening before our departure our couchsurfing host and potential guide unfortunately had to pull out of our expedition to try to see Machu Picchu. He had been conducting enquiries with officials throughout the day to try to get the latest information, and had been told that the whole area is closed to tourists. Furthermore, any guide now bringing tourists into the area against official regulations may be subject to arrest, and potentially lose their guiding permit. We fully understood Ronnie's decision not to take us, but decided that we would still make the journey ourselves, and see how far we could get.

There are only three ways to get to Machu Picchu: by train via the railway from Ollantaytambo, on foot via the railway line from Hidro Electrica, both options leading to Aguas Calientes, the town from which you would be able to climb up to Machu Pichu. The only other option is by foot via the Inca Trail. The Inca Trail has been closed since two people died in a mudslide in the recent downpours. The railway line from Ollantaytambo was destroyed by the swollen river, and so it appeared that our best option was to try to get to Hidro and walk in from there.

So armed with as much information as Ronnie could give us, Val and I were up early, and took a taxi in the rainy dawn to the northern bus station, and eventually got a ride in a combi-shared-minibus to Santa Maria. The journey took around five hours, over the most incredibly steep, twisting, turning mountain roads. It rained most of the way, and the road was crumbling away in some places, and huge streams washed over it in others. The drop-off over the edge was dizzying. It was quite a white-knuckle ride!

The tarmac changed to rutted gravel roads as we descended into the jungle once more, and eventually we arrived at Santa Maria, a tiny town hidden in a valley seemingly miles from anywhere. We had some lunch, and got talking to an Argentinian guy who had tried a couple of days before to get to Aguas Calientes, and had run into many problems even getting up to Hidro. His Peruvian guide suggested an alternative route to us, which we made note of.

We found a taxi prepared to take us over the next mountain, along with a couple of locals too, but we had to wait for about an hour or so while graders worked way up on the hillside trying to unblock the road, which had been buried under a huge mudslide earlier in the day. Our taxi driver eventually gave up, and we took a much longer alternate route.

On the way we ran into a mudslide across our road, but with the minimum of fuss, or driver and occupants from a following minibus set-to with picks, and before long our driver had his car up and over the road blockage.

The minibus didn't fare so well, and got well and truly stuck, taking around an hour to get him back down off the top of the muddy slope. The amazing can-do attitude of everyone involved was wonderful to be part of. However, as the minibus couldn't climb the obstacle, we had to leave them to return to Santa Maria, and our little group pressed on to Santa Teresa.

There we found a little hostel, and dropped our bags off before wandering around the town, and going to see the huge muddy-brown fast-flowing river.

I somehow managed to get chatting to the local police, and in broken Spanish managed to explain what we were trying to do, and where we wanted to go. "No chance!" was my understanding of their friendly, but firm response. I asked about the alternate route that the Argentinian guy had suggested, and one of the policemen made a phone call. Again, in no uncertain terms he told us that it was very dangerous, that there had been many mudslides in the area, and that the bridge at the end of our planned alternate route was no longer there. At least I think that's what he told me!

At dinner in a small restaurant in town we chatted to a couple of locals who had just walked out of Aguas Calientes that afternoon, and said that both the railway, and the alternate route to Hidro were fine, and quite safe to walk.

Encouraged by local knowledge, we decided to press ahead with our plan, ignoring police advice, and got an early night.

Machu Picchu - Day 2

Monday, February 8, 2010

Rising early, we managed to avoid being spotted by the police as our taxi driver took us out of town, and an hour or so later he dropped us at a place called Lucmabamba, little more than a couple of shacks in the middle of the jungle, and pointed us to the start of an alternate part of the Inca Trail.

Our idea was to trek over the top of the mountain, passing an Inca site called Llactapata, from which if the weather was clear, it would be possible to see Machu Picchu. We had decided that this was the option that gave us the greatest possibility of actually seeing Machu Picchu, even if eventually we couldn't get there.

We climbed steeply uphill on a pretty decent path for a couple of hours, and eventually crossed to the other side of the mountain, and started down, reasonably confident that we were on the right path, but worried that we may not see anything because of low cloud cover.

But we were incredibly lucky, and the clouds parted, and through a clearing there it was - Machu Picchu clearly visible across the valley. It was a wonderful moment, as despite all claims that it was impossible to do, all suggestions that we would be better trekking elsewhere, and all of the dire warnings from the police, we had managed to do the seemingly impossible! And we hadn't seen another soul since leaving Lucmabamba! We may have been the only people to see Machu Picchu this day!

The path down was muddy and slippy, but there were no signs of the huge mudslides the police had warned us of, and in the valley the footbridge was in fine condition. Either I had misunderstood the police, or they had been somewhat untruthful to try to discourage us. I suspect the latter to be the case.

We followed the trail along to Hidro Electrica, and wandering past two security guards without a hitch, thinking all was going to be well, and we only had two more hours along the track to go!

But around the next corner we came upon a checkpoint manned by three policemen, who were very clear that we could go no further! They were soon backed up by two more armed National Policia, who were friendly, but very firm. We chatted with them for an hour or so, trying in my best Spanish to convince them that we had a friend in Aguas Calientes to stay with, and that I was a reporter. Nothing worked, even the offer of a backhander in US Dollars!!

Eventually we had to give up, and joined a group of four locals who were heading down to Santa Teresa. We were somewhat mystified when our group turned off and crossed the river, heading up a tiny trail into the jungle, instead of following the main road down. However, all became clear half an hour later as we rounded a bend in the river, and on the other side could see that the road had simply collapsed into the river and been washed away. It would have been impossible to pass the devastated area.

The route through the jungle took about two hours, and were amazed to find that the crossing back to the other side was in a tiny cart suspended on a cable high above the raging river. What a thrilling end to our journey! Once at the rough road we all piled into a taxi, and headed down once again to Santa Teresa. This is how the rickety wire bridge looked:-

Bridge Over Troubled Waters Video link:-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lcsBWfPx4lE

From there we discovered that the road to Santa Maria was blocked again, and took a minibus taxi to Quillabamba, in the opposite direction to where we needed to go, but at least on clear roads.

Quillabamba turned out to be an amazing place when we got there. Hidden away in the jungle, it seemed to be a busy, thriving city, teeming with people, and filled with trendy shops selling fashion clothing and expensive electrical items. How did such a place come to be there, seemingly in the middle of nowhere?

We decided to stay overnight, and went out around the town to eat, and for a couple of beers. For two days we hadn't seen a single other tourist or traveller, and in the bar we were quizzed by many of the curious and friendly locals as to what we were doing and where we had been.

Machu Picchu - Day 3

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

The last day of our adventure was a long, six hour minibus journey back to Cusco, highlighted by the fact that the bridge at Ollantaytambo was now being washed away, and no vehicles were able to pass. We had to walk across the rather precarious bridge to get into another minibus at the other side, while his passengers heading the opposite way did the same.

All in all, it has been the most fantastic three days, and was exactly what Val and I had wanted, more of an expedition than a tour. We were both disappointed that we hadn't managed to get to Aguas Calientes, and ultimately to Machu Picchu, but were both extremely proud to have actually managed to see the place, which looks incredible. This way, I have managed to achieve the goal of seeing Machu Picchu, and yet have the opportunity to return one day and do the whole Inca Trail, and see the place again in a different manner, hopefully under much more favourable circumstances.

My thanks to Val for being my travelling partner on this journey, and for his incredibly positive attitude about the whole adventure. I would have been much further outside my comfort zone if I had been alone.

Also huge thanks to Ronnie and his brother Willy for kindly providing accomodation and much-needed local information and advice.

Thanks also to our lunchtime Argentinian contact, Marco, and his guide Julio, without whom we wouldn't have known about the Llactapata trail, and to Percy and his friend, who convinced us that the Llactapata trail would be fine to take.

Also I must mention all of the local Peruvians we met along the way, taxi drivers, fellow passengers, hostel owners, and friendly people in bars that made the trip so special too. Everyone is so incredibly friendly, helpful and welcoming, even the gun-toting policemen! And equally remarkable is the amazingly positive attitude of everyone in the face of all sorts of obstacles and difficulties.

Peru, what a fantastic and fascinating country. I hope to be back soon!

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# Carnival in Rio

Goal 78 - Carnival in Rio.

Monday, February 15, 2010

We flew into Rio from Iguassu, and after a bit of negotiation with a group of taxi drivers, managed to find someone who would take us to Fabio's home for what seemed like a reasonable fee.

Fabio is another couchsurfing contact that Val arranged for us, and he has a great little apartment in the outer suburb of Grajau. He is on the top floor, and has a rooftop space with an awesome view. In fact, we ended up sleeping up here under the stars later that night.

After a quick bite to eat, Fabio and his mate Samuel wanted to take us to the beach, and before long we were sat under sunshade umbrellas at Ipanema Beach, beers in hand, with a large group of Rio locals. The backdrop was beautiful, and just how I imagined Rio would be.

The beach was packed, a sea of yellow umbrellas stretching as far as the eye could see, with the locals parading up and down in tiny tight trunks and skimpy bikinis! Quite a sight!

Towards the end of the afternoon we climbed a rocky promontory at the end of Ipanema Beach and watched the beautiful Rio sunset, which was applauded by the crowd of on-lookers.

After a shower back at home we headed out to a local street party, but were a little surprised that it was all over by the time we got there. A bar, and some beer for the rooftop back at home ended the evening, and a fantastic first day intro to Rio.

After a late BBQ lunch the next afternoon Val and I took the Metro to the station nearest to the Sambodromo, hoping to find some reasonably priced tickets. On the internet, tickets appeared to cost anywhere between US$75 to $1,000, but we had heard that it was possible to buy cheaper tickets locally.

Just outside the Metro we found several touts, and after some slightly confusing negotiations in Portuguese, we had two tickets for seats in Sector 6, at a bargain price of $25 each - marvellous.

Minutes later we had a couple of beers in hand too, and felt like locals, ready for Carnival.

The view we had wasn't the best, as our section of seats was set back from the huge concrete runway that the parade would come along, but we could still see pretty well.

When the first parade began it took quite a while to reach our area, as each group has about 80 minutes to travel the whole length of the Sambodromo. But the atmosphere was amazing, everyone up on their feet, singing, dancing, and waving flags.

When the first float arrived it was HUGE, followed by what must have been thousands of dancers in amazing costumes - the flow of performers was almost endess - and this was just the first of six parades on display tonight!

We watched the second and third parades, both equally impressive, especially the magician-like section at the front of the third parade, which under the cover of large magicians' sheets, performed some lighting fast costume changes.

We ended our evening somewhat early, heading out at around 1am, having an early start planned for the next morning. I don't think either of us could have managed another four hours on the rock-hard concrete seats either.

We caught the Metro back home, among many brightly-costumed performers heading home too.

What an experience! Once again, thanks to Val for his wonderful company, and to Fabio and Samuel for their fantastic hosting, and advice and directions.

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# Everest Base Camp

Himalayan preparations completed.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

I spent today making some final preparations for my Everest Base Camp expedition, which starts early tomorrow morning with a flight to Lukla, high in the Himalayas.

My first job was to repack both rucsacs with my requirements for the next two weeks or so, and bag up all the stuff I didn't want to take with me, to leave here in Kathmandu. The guys at Himalayan Encounters have organised a guide and porter, so the larger rucsac will be carried for me, and I plan to take my smaller, lighter day bag myself.

Next I decided to move out of the Kathmandu Guest House to a much cheaper hotel I had found on my wander around last night. Instead of $25 for my second night in Kathmandu, I am now paying $5. I have already spent the money I have saved on an Everest trekking map, some light waterproof trekking trousers, and a book to take for the evenings.

Earlier this evening I met a fellow trekker Henry from Colorado, who is on the same trek as me, and we met our guide too. I also had to go and rent a decent sleeping bag and down jacket for the cold weather ahead. These were incredibly cheap to rent, at less than a dollar each per day. Marvellous!

Internet access is a bit tricky at the moment here in Kathmandu. There is good access at both of the hotels I have used, better at Hotel Nana, tonight's $5 cheapie, as it's free, but electricity is the problem! Well, apparently water is the real problem.

Much of Nepal is powered by hydro-electric power, and water levels in the power-producing dams are very low, so electricity production is limited. Power shutdowns are scheduled each day, and last night the power was off from 6pm until midnight. I didn't know in advance, and hadn't charged the laptop battery. This morning the power was off again, and although the internet at the hotel was still working, running off a generator, from 10am to 4pm it was impossible to recharge the computer again. Very frustrating! Tonight it goes off again at 9pm so I'm trying to get all my batteries charged, and everything I need to do online done before then.

I am still planning to take the laptop with me on my trek, and will try to write up the journey as regularly as I can, along with photos each day, but I have no idea when, or even if I will be able to upload anything. I suspect I may be able to do so at Namche Bazaar, sherpa capital of the Himalayas, when we stop over there for a day of altitude acclimatisation, but that may be the last chance for the next two weeks or so.

So I'm afraid you may just have to wait to see how the whole trek works out.

First steps towards Everest.

Day 1 - Kathmandu - Lukla (9,317 ft) - Phakding (8,563 ft)

Friday, April 9, 2010

It was an early start, up at 4am and back across to the Kathmandu Guest House for 5am to meet fellow trekker Henry, and our guide Deepak. We drove through the dark streets to the airport, which was already thronging with others flying to various destinations. After the usual formalities we were bussed out to our plane, a Twin Otter, the smallest commercial plane I have been on, with one seat on either side of the aisle.

The flight was quite spectacular as we flew low over hills and valleys, and off to the left huge mountains could be seen looming out of the very hazy conditions. It must be an incredible flight in clear weather.

Incredible would also be a good word to describe the runway at Lukla, which is very short, and runs quite steeply uphill after touchdown. The plane has to stop quicky before it reaches the solid rock wall at the top end. We watched our plane take off again with it's fresh load of passengers returning to Kathmandu. A swift acceleration down the hill, and take off before the end of the runway, where the land simply drops away into the valley far below. No margin for error here!

We started our first day of the trek at an easy pace, stopping often at temples, or spectacular views of the Dudh Koshi river winding through the valley below. In the hazy conditions the huge mountains looming around us were just vague shapes, a suggestion of the towering majesty that must surround us.

Three hours of easy walking on a relatively flat track took us to Phakding, where we ate lunch and booked in to our accommodation for the evening. Henry took an extra side trip to a small monastery way up on the hill in the afternoon, and I spent some time re-organising my hastily packed bags, and reading in the afternoon sun.

An easy and pleasant start to the adventure.

Day 2 - Phakding (8,563 ft) to Namche Bazar (11,286 ft)

Saturday, April 10, 2010

After an early night last night both Henry and I were asleep by 9pm, and awake again at 5.30 in the morning. After a slightly earlier breakfast then planned we were on the track again before 8am. Another three hours or so took us to the Sagamatha Park Entrance, and after a bite to eat we began the steep toil upwards to Namche Bazar.

The route was busy, with trekkers both heading up and coming down, porters, horses and yaks. Apparently the yaks can be a bit bad tempered, and when they go past you need to stand on the uphill side of them, as every guide seems to have a tale of a trekker being pushed over a steep edge by a grumpy yak.

We arrived in Namche ahead of schedule, as I think both Henry and I are making pretty good, steady progress. I have been taking the remainder of my anti-altitude sickness tablets left over from Peru, and so far I have been doing fine. I may have been helped by the fact that it has been a much steadier climb from sea-level to 11,000 feet than the flight into Cusco was.

Namche is a bustling place, and after a coffee I wandered around the market place and shops stocked with mountaineering goods, food, and Nepalese trinkets. It's all outrageously expensive, as it has all been carried up by the amazing porters, who often carry loads of up to 100kg, or over 200 lbs. It shames you a little when they come charging past with a monster load, wearing flip-flops, as we struggle upwards with a tiny rucsac and proper hiking boots!

Day 3 - acclimatisation day in Namche

Sunday, April 11, 2010

After a later breakfast we headed up the hill to a viewpoint from which we got our first clear view of Everest towering in the background. We took a look around the sherpa museum, and then headed further uphill, past an amazing little dirt-strip airfield, on to a tea shop high on the ridge, at over twelve and a half thousand feet, where we sat enjoying spectacular Everest views in the sun.

We were back in Namche by lunchtime, and took the rest of the afternoon to relax. Today is just a day to acclimatise to the higher altitude, before pushing on higher into the spectacular mountains. This is probably the last opportunity for access to both electricity and internet, so I suspect this will be the last blog entry for a while.

Plodding steadily upwards.

Day 4 - Namche Bazar (11,286 ft) - Dole (13,288 ft)

Monday, April 12, 2010

After a day to acclimatise in Namche Bazar, during which I had only the slightest of headaches, we had a bit of a lie in the next morning, and I woke feeling great, all signs of my headache gone. After breakfast, which I self-catered with bread, tomatoes and yak cheese bought from the market, we got a leisurely 8am start.

Steady progress took us higher up easy gradients, and at morning tea-break, we saw the other group that we now knew pretty well from two days in Namche Bazar. Our routes separated, their route taking them more directly to Everest Base Camp, ours taking us on the more westerly approach via Gokyo. We said our goodbyes, and started climbing more steeply up the side of the Dudh Koshi valley.

We took things at a slow, regular pace, and Henry and I seem very well matched. We are both happy to keep plodding slowly uphill without too many breaks. I was feeling very healthy and strong, and we arrived at Dole at around 2.30pm in the afternoon. Our guide Deepak was pretty impressed, as 4pm is the more usual time to arrive there.

Dole is a lovely place, nestled in a side valley, with some incredible views of the snow-capped mountains towering on all sides. As the afternoon drew on it became quite cold, but the fire was lit in the main room in the tea-house we were staying in, and it was very cosy and warm.

I spent several happy hours reading my current book, the wonderfully appropriate View From The Summit by Sir Edmund Hillary, who was of course, the first man, along with Sherpa Tensing, to climb Everest back in 1953.

Day 5 - Dole (13,288 ft) - Machhermo - Gokyo (15,750 ft)

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

The fifth day of the trek was planned to be a short one, climbing from Dole to Machhermo by around lunchtime. However, despite another leisurely 8am start we arrived in Machhermo before 11am, and both Henry and I were keen to press on further. After discussion with Deepak, and consideration for how our porter was doing, we decided to have an early lunch, and then press on for Gokyo.

This section was scheduled for Day 6, and was estimated to be around four hours, and the two days are planned as further slow and steady altitude acclimatisation. Both Henry and I seem to be doing very well, and we continued our steady upward progress, and once again surprised our guide by arriving at our final destination before 3pm.

The second half of the journey was spectacular, and we passed three high lakes on the way to Gokyo. The top two are still iced over with a fairly thick ice layer.

What a fantastic day! Two days trek covered in one day - marvellous! The weather continues to be sunny and warm, and it's been shorts and t-shirt again almost all day today. At 15,750 feet I am now at my highest point ever outside the confines of a pressurised aeroplane! I have a very slight altitude headache at the end of a tough day, but am pretty confident that I will be fine again for tomorrow, which takes us even higher up the impressively steep Gokyo Ri. If the day is clear the peak of Gokyo Ri should offer some spectacular views of Everest.

Himalayan heights.

Day 6 - Gokyo Lakes

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

After a long day the previous day, and a bit of a re-think in the evening, we decided to put the extra day we had created to good use. Rather than attempting the steep Gokyo Ri climb, which involved a 5.30am start, Henry suggested an easier trek further up the Gokyo Valley, to the fourth and fifth lakes, where the guidebook suggested that there were some impressive views of Everest.

I didn't sleep too well overnight, and woke in the morning with a headache, and feeling a bit of the familiar altitude sickness. I had an altitude tablet, and a couple of headache pills, and felt a bit better after breakfast.

It had snowed overnight, and the walk up the valley was beautiful. We walked at over 16,000 feet for a couple of hours and the views at the end were well worth it.

On the way back down though, fatigue kicked in, and I started feeling pretty rough. It was a long, tiring slog back to Gokyo, and by the time we reached our accommodation we had spent around 5 hours at over 16,000 feet. After a bowl of soup I fell asleep for a couple of hours in the afternoon. I was pretty certain that I would be fine the next day, and just had the last bit of acclimatisation to do, as well as needing a good night's rest.

I felt much better by dinnertime, and ate well, followed by a lively game of cards with our guides. I still got a pretty early night as we planned to be up at 5am in the morning for the challenging climb up Gokyo Ri.

Day 7 - Gokyo Ri (17,584 ft) and Gokyo (15,750 ft) - Thagnak (15,560 ft)

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Once again it snowed overnight, but dawned crystal clear in the morning. We were up at 5am, and on the path by 5.30. The start of the climb up Gokyo Ri was only a few minutes from the door of our accommodation, and before long we were labouring up a two-hour long trudge to the top of the steep hill. I always find it easier to go very slow and steady, and not stop at all, and our group of four made good progress.

We passed a couple of others who had started before us, and about two-thirds of the way up I was feeling great. I had slept well, had no sign of altitude problems, and was feeling strong again. I maintained my steady pace, and was surprised to be the first of our group to the top - very much different to the previous day, when I had been the one struggling badly.

The view was incredible! Far below you could see Gokyo on the edge of the third lake, with the huge Ngozumpa Glacier running just behind the tiny settlement. Beyond that mountains towered, and in the background Everest itself was highlighted in a halo of cloud.

The summit of Gokyo Ri was strung with Buddhist prayer flags, and there was hardly a breath of wind. It really was a magnificent location, and well worth the two hours of effort to get there.

The journey down only took an hour or so, and back at the tea-house Henry and I prepared to do something that our guides were convinced we had only been joking about.

In our swimming shorts, towels slung over our shoulders, we headed down to the lake, and in the only way I imagine it is possible to do, we plunged in. It was shockingly cold, but I swam out a little before returning to shore. Henry was already back out, but to my amazement dived in for a second dip. Hot coffee and a big breakfast slowly warmed us afterwards. The locals were amazed - I don't think they had ever seen anything like it!!

Once warmed and fed, we packed our bags, and set off on what was supposed to be the next day's itinerary, trekking out the back of Gokyo and onto the glacier itself. This was quite surreal, as it is mainly rock-covered, but every now-and-then you can see walls of ice and frozen pools. All around there are rocks rolling, and sounds of movement. Quite incredible.

Two hours took us across the glacier, and to the tiny collection of buildings at Thagnak, where we settled in for the remainder of the afternoon. Despite fitting in the extra day's side trip to Gokyo Lakes, we are still a day ahead of schedule!

I washed some clothes in a little stream nearby, surrounded by five or six completely uninterested yak. The sun was still out, and I was looking forward to fresh socks for the next day's challenging trek over the Cho La Pass.

Day 8 - Thagnak (15,560 ft) - Cho La Pass (17,486 ft) - Dzonglha (15,846 ft) - Labouche (16,108 ft)

Friday, April 16, 2010

Another 5am start meant we were on the trail by 6am, on what was going to be one of the tougher days for me again. It was a long slow haul up the climb towards the pass leading over to the Khumbu Valley, but we seemed to do well, and passed a few groups on the way that had started before us. It took about three hours to reach the pass itself, and the view was well worth the effort. A huge wall of snow lead upwards to a peak on our right, and ahead was a magnificent ice fall.

We had a bit to eat in the sun, and then headed down over ice fields, and then rocky paths, arriving at Dhzonglha another two hours later. Accomodation there was limited, but we would be able to get a room, Deepak told us. Henry, however, was keen to push on, and in spirit I agreed, but my body would have been quite happy to settle there for the rest of the afternoon.

However, push on we did, finally making it to Labouche by mid-afternoon. I found the last part of the day a real slog, and was glad to finally arrive and take a much needed break. The tea-house at Labouche was fairly basic, and Henry and I had to take turns in the tiny room to organise our gear.

Once again we had completed two days planned trekking in one day, and were now two days ahead of schedule.

An early dinner, a few games of cards and an early night were the order of the day, as once again we faced an early start in the morning, and a big day ahead.

Goal 83 - "Because it's there..."

Day 9 - Labouche (16,108 ft) - Gorak Shep (16,863 ft) - Everest Base Camp (17,650 ft) - Gorak Shep (16,863 ft) - Kala Pathar (18,208 ft) - Gorak Shep (16,863 ft)

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Breakfast was delayed slightly, so we didn't get away until 6.30am, and arrived at Gorak Shep a couple of hours later. This really is the last settlement before Base Camp, and I have read about this place in so many mountaineering books. There was an air of unreality about finally reaching this place. On the walk I thought of all the famous footsteps that I was following. Mallory and Irvine came this way, as did Hillary and Tensing, and hundreds of other climbing greats since then.

We left as much gear as we could at the Snowland Highest Inn, which would be our accommodation for the night, at almost 17,000 feet. With much lighter packs for the rest of the day we set off for our ultimate goal, Everest Base Camp.

It took less than two hours to reach, and I was feeling much fitter and healthier than the previous day. Unfortunately it was Henry's turn to be feeling a bit under-the-weather, and Surya and I waited by the Base Camp overlook area for Henry and Deepak to arrive.

I was really keen to go down into the camp itself, and see the awesome Khumbu Icefall from it's base. Henry elected to stay on the "city limits" with Deepak, and Surya and I headed down into camp. The atmosphere was wonderful. There was a group of singing and dancing sherpas, a photo exhibition in one tent, and all sorts of preparations going on.

I soaked up as much atmosphere as I could, and took many pictures of the stunning icefall. It all looks very imposing, and people up there just looked like tiny dots.

Eventually we headed back to collect Henry and Deepak, and began the journey back to Gorak Shep.

We had wondered about the possibility of climbing Kala Pathar, which offers some incredible views of the whole valley, but Henry wasn't feeling up to it. I was still feeling good, and decided I would tackle the climb, which ascends to well over 18,000 feet. Surya kindly volunteered to come along with me.

It was a real slog, as we had already had a long six-hour day, but we climbed steadily and slowly. By the last third of the climb I was starting to fade a little, and was disappointed that the clouds were building fast. We really needed to be up there a couple of hours earlier. It got colder towards the summit, and I put on all the clothes I had with me as we finally reached the wind-swept peak.

The view was clouded over, but we could see one gap in the clouds about to pass over, and with a few others at the summit, waited for five minutes, and were rewarded with a brief, stunning view of Everest.

We headed down quickly, arriving back at Gorak Shep at around 3pm, after a nine-hour day, just as the snow began to fall. Luke warm coffee never tasted so good!

This has been an absolutely incredible goal to achieve, and has probably been one of the most physically demanding things I have ever done. In terms of sustained effort it even beats the "7 Peaks in 7 Days" challenge in August last year. (Sorry Val!)

I am incredibly proud of what I have achieved, and although I appreciate that thousands of other trekkers achieve the same thing each year, I am pretty sure they are all very proud too.

My thanks for assistance on this goal go to Kim, who introduced me to Niraj at Himalayan Encounters , to Niraj himself for helping me to arrange everything, to Henry for being a wonderful fellow trekker, and of course, our fantastic guides, Deepak and Surya, and our amazing porter, Sudip.

Heading back down to Namche.

Day 10 - Gorak Shep (16,863 ft) - Kala Pathar (18,208 ft) - Orsho (13,547 ft)

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Surya woke us at ten past four in the morning, and we were out and climbing by 4.45am, just as it was beginning to get light. For Surya and I, this was our second slog up Kala Pathar in less than 24 hours. Once again we managed a steady pace, and passed a few people who had started before us.

About half way up, Henry stopped to take some photos, and I continued my steady plod, increacing my pace as I approached the summit, keen to get there before the sun appeared from behind Everest. I climbed the last twenty minutes or so as hard as I could, puffing and panting hard in the thin air above 18,000 feet. I must have been going pretty well, as I had at least ten minutes on my own on the summit before anyone else arrived.

I wrapped up warm, with everything that I had in my small rucsac, as it was well below freezing. The water in my bottle had started to turn to ice, and was painfully cold to drink, but I had worked up a bit of a thirst.

I sat alone on the very top of Kala Pathar, and watched the sunny patch slowly creep down the mountain above me, towards where I sat shivering, as the sun rose slowly behind Everest to the east of me. Seeing the huge mountain so spectacularly silhouetted, and looking down on Base Camp far below was one of the most outstanding moments of my adventures over the past two years.

Others arrived at the top, and finally the sun reached us and warmed us up quite quickly. The best photo opportunity was now gone once the sun appeared, so we headed down for breakfast at Gorak Shep, packed our bags, and began the long descent back to civilisation.

We headed down the beautiful Khumbu Valley for about 5 hours, and stopped at a nice little tea-house all on it's own at a place called Orsho. The clouds had been building steadily throughout the day, and we were very lucky to make it to our accommodation just before the skies opened, and it poured down.

Day 11 - Orsho (13,547 ft) - Tengboche (12,664 ft) - Namche Bazar (11,286 ft)

Monday, April 19, 2010

For the first time in days we laid in until 7am, and I had the best night's sleep. The thin air at higher altitudes can make sleep difficult, and at more than 3,000 feet lower than Gorak Shep, the denser air in Orsho meant that I had an untroubled nine hours sleep. Henry did even better, asleep before me, and still asleep when I woke.

Again the morning was bright and clear, despite the rain the day before, and we headed on down the spectacular valley. We arrived mid-morning at Tengboche, which is a beautiful little place with an amazing monastery. Apparently the original monastery burned down in the 1990's but was re-build with the help of Edmund Hillary's Himalaya Foundation.

After lunch we decided to detour to Khumjung, where more of Sir Edmund's legacy can be found at the school he helped build, documented in his book "Schoolhouse in the Clouds". It was very atmospheric to visit, as once again by mid-afternoon the clouds had started to build again, and were swirling dramatically just above the school.

We made a final stop at the impressive Everest View Hotel, where there was no view at all, unfortunately, because of the now thick cloud cover. A long downhill toil from there brought us back to Namche Bazar at last. Just one more day of trekking to get back to Lukla.

The tea-house in Namche, which on the way up seemed so basic, now felt like The Ritz. It is such luxury to have modern toilet facilities, and water that comes out of a tap, not just scooped out of a bucket. And best of all... a shower, with real hot water! It's the first shower I have had since we left here over a week ago, and it was FANTASTIC!

It is quite hard to explain how basic and difficult everything is on the long trek, how cold it can be every evening, and how little there is in the way of modern facilities that are so often taken for granted. We have pretty much been in the same clothes for most of the last week or so, washing socks and shirts when the chance presents itself, and hoping to get them dry again before they are needed too badly.

But what a truly incredible experience the whole trip has been, I wouldn't change a minute of it.

Returning to Kathmandu.

Day 12 - Namche Bazar (11,286 ft) - Phakding (8,563 ft) - Lukla (9,317 ft)

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

The last day of walking was a bit of a long haul, taking around seven hours, including a long lunch break at Phakding. We had caught up again with the large group that we have met several times on our journey, and all had lunch together. After lunch it was a long uphill trudge, and we finally arrived in Lukla at around 3pm.

The track was so much busier than we had been used to higher up in the mountains, and the bridges were often bottle-necked, with well laden porters and yak all trying to cross at once!

I feel a little bit sad that the whole incredible adventure is almost over, but my legs are incredibly relieved that the most walking they have to do tomorrow is from the hotel to the airport for the flight back to Kathmandu!

Day 13 - Lukla – Kathmandu

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

After a few celebratory beers the night before, getting up was a bit of a struggle, but it was important to be at Lukla airport in reasonable time , as flights only tend to operate in the morning, when the weather is clear, and getting a seat back to Kathmandu can be a bit of a lottery if it's busy. It was going to be even more tricky, as we were trying to fly back four days ahead of our scheduled departure date.

But with some help from Deepak it was all sorted out, and by 9am we had negotiated our way through the entertaining chaos of Lukla airport, and were on another Twin Otter, hurtling down the steep runway, and soaring into the mountains. The take-off is quite alarming, as the runway slopes down steeply, and just as the plane becomes airborne, the ground falls away to the valley floor far below.

I do have some video of the take-off, as well as of some of the mountains, so will see if I can get it edited together soon.

I'm now back in my cheapie hotel in Kathmandu, where internet access is free, but provision of an electricity supply is sporadic at best. I have a few spare days now, and plan to catch up on email, and get as much planning done as possible for the next few weeks.

I seem to be developing a bit of a cold at the moment, which is unsurprising, considering the amount of time I have spent in cold conditions, surrounded by coughing, sneezing, sniffing companions. I just consider myself extremely lucky not to have had any of the stomach upsets that all trekkers are "guaranteed" to have at some point during their trip. I reckon that after all my travelling, and easy-going attitude to street food, I now have innards of cast-iron. I certainly hope so, it's off to India next, ultimate test of the digestive system!!

Everest video.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

I've had plenty of time on my hands here in Kathmandu, but not all of it has been completely productive, due to the dual challenges of feeling a bit under-the-weather with a post-Everest cold, and the electricity-supply frustrations here in the city.

I have spent alot of time lounging around in bed, eating my leftover Mountain Man Trail Mix, dried fruit, and sultanas as a semi-luxurious breakfast-in-bed. I keep having to sweep the bed out though, as any spilled granola mix has a particularly gravelly texture, and isn't too comfortable to lie around in! I have ventured out every now and then for a coffee, to sort out my laundry, get a haircut, or do a bit of shopping.

But I have finally managed to get around to editing the few random video clips taken from the two-week long Everest Trek. It's taken me a day or two to do this, as I have had alot of other stuff to catch up with on the computer, and only limited time with access to electricity! When the electric goes off, it's back to the book with the head torch until power comes back on, sometimes as much as six hours later.

There is a timetable for electricity black-outs, but like many other things here in Nepal, it just seems to be a vague guideline rather than reliable information. I've learned my lesson, and keep the laptop connected to the charger all the time that the electric is on, so at least I have a full charge when the power suddenly goes off!

I didn't bother with video too much on the trip, but I'm pleased with the 360 degree views of Base Camp, and the alarming take-off from Lukla airport.

I tended to concentrate more on photos, and took hundreds of them. I am using a couple of the pix I took as part of my charity fundraising goal, more details here. My particular favourite is the view from Gokyo Ri summit with the tiny town of Gokyo far below by the lake in the snow, with the huge glacier behind it.

The music on the video is called "Om Mani Padme Hum" by Tibetan Incantations. The original piece of music is over 24 minutes long, and is extremely repetitive. In Namche Bazar it plays endlessly on repeat from every second shop doorway, and I've heard it in several shops here in Kathmandu too - it's like an awful, endless Tibetan version of Chinese water torture!! It is impossible to escape from it, and this music will be forever connected in my mind to this trip.

Everest Trek Video link:-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DKyyY5frJeQ

###

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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!"

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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.

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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.
