 
# More Amazing Travel Experiences

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

inspiration for your next travel adventure.

by

Ian Usher

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

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

### Amazing Travel Experiences

Ian Usher

Copyright 2012 by Ian Usher

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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# Contents

Introduction

Bonneville Speed Week

Grand Canyon

Poker in Las Vegas

Hollywood movie actor

Dia de Muertos

Elephant Round-up

March of the red crabs

Easter Island

Travelling low point

Taj Mahal

Shuttle launch

Earthquake!

Independence Day in New York

A Life Sold

Submit your own travel stories for publication...?

More adventure travel books

Excerpt from "A Life Sold"

# Introduction

Hi there.

My name is Ian Usher

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

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

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

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

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

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

More details and links here:-

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

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

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

Your support is much appreciated.

Happy travels,

Ian

# Bonneville Speed Week

**Crossing Nevada.**

Sunday, August 9, 2009

On the way down out of the hills I passed a very enthusiastic group of girls shouting about car washes, and decided that it was time to give the outside of the RV a bit of a clean. The girls from Castro Valley High School cheerleader squad did a fantastic job!

Fuel for the next leg of the journey was the next order of business, and at the gas station I met Peter, who had a fantastic home-built motorised bicycle. The Schwinn bike had an 80cc go-cart engine mounted on the frame, and Peter told me he could get 80 miles per gallon, and 50 miles per hour out of it. I really want one of these. It would be the ideal transport to carry on the back of the RV, for exploring areas when the RV is parked up. Maybe one day... I got Peter's number for when I get round to building one!

I spent a few hours shopping for food and some DIY materials to make life in the RV a little more comfortable and practical. Susan had decided to join me for the trip to Utah, and I met her at the train station, this time with a surprisingly small bag, and the journey finally began.

After an overnight stop at my favourite RV-friendly store, Walmart, in Roseville, California, we made good time this morning, and crossed into Nevada, stopping in Reno for lunch, and to wander around a few of the casinos there. We invested a dollar in one of the 1 cent slot machines for very little return, and hit the road again.

Tonight's stop is another freebie in one of the well-appointed Nevada roadside rest areas.

Goal 53 - Bonneville Speed Week.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

After he left school my friend Bruce travelled from England to travel around the States, and while driving across from the East Coast to the West, crossing Utah, he spotted several race cars on trailers travelling along Highway I-80. When he spotted a couple turning off and heading out onto the large expanse of salt he followed, and found himself at Bonneville Speed Week. Since he told me about that many years ago I have always wanted to come and see for myself. More recently I watched the movie "The World's Fastest Indian", which tells the story of New Zealander Bert Munro, and his journey to Bonneville glory, and this merely fuelled my desire to come, and today I have finally made it.

We actually arrived yesterday, and saw a bit of racing, but really had no idea what was going on. After a night high in the mountains in Nevada at another small rest area the previous evening, we drove down into Wendover, just on the Nevada/Utah border, and refuelled, and found a great little information bureau, where I could access the internet and upload a couple of previous blogs and check email. Linda told us of the attractions that Wendover has to offer, and we went to take a look around. The salt lake is so big and flat that from a viewpoint above the town it is possible to view the curvature of the Earth, which is pretty amazing. Just out of town we also took a look at the airforce base museum where bomber crews trained for dropping the Hiroshima and Nagasaki nuclear bombs that ended WWII. Also there was the plane that was used in the movie "Con Air", which was fun to scramble around in.

Eventually we headed out to the flats and were allowed onto the salt without charge, as we had arrived so late in the afternoon, and watched a few vehicles rocket past the pits at high speed, and wandered around the Impound area, where potential record breakers were stored for the evening. To gain a record, a vehicle must first qualify to do so on one run, by going faster than the old record. The vehicle then goes into Impound, where it can be worked on for a period of up to four hours. The next morning a further hour's work can be done, then the vehicle has to consolidate the record-breaking run with a second pass, the average of the two runs being taken. This makes records hard to beat, because as well as one-time speed, consistency and reliability is also required.

Last night we parked out on the salt along with perhaps another hundred RVs and campers, and watched "The World's Fastest Indian" on the computer, and this morning were up very early to secure a fantastic front row parking spot at the start line. It is possible to sit in the RV and watch the amazing action.

The atmosphere is fantastic, and everyone is incredibly friendly and helpful, and many people have been very patient in answering my endless questions. The whole style of racing is much more laid-back than anything I have ever experienced, as each run is against the clock, rather than other vehicles, and starting speed and early acceleration is not too important. Top speed is all that counts, and most people are here to try to beat personal bests.

One of the most exciting runs to see was 71 year old Connie on a huge motorcycle, who beat her own personal best of 211 mph by a significant margin, achieving 229 mph. Apparently her 82 year old boyfriend also rides the bike occasionally!

There are some absolutely incredible vehicles here, and just wandering around the start line listening to the engines fire up and the cars and bikes accelerate away is such a thrill.

Already I have started wondering how I might make it back here, and what sort of motorbike I would like to bring to have a go on. "Certainly, you should give it a go," one guy that I chatted to encouraged me. "First step is to pick up a rule book to find out what you would need to do!" That's exactly what I did. Maybe one day I will be back here to race something myself, if finances ever permit! In the meantime I am very happy to be here as a spectator.

Thanks to Susan for being my wonderful travelling companion on this goal. As always it is so much more fun to see things like this with someone else than to do so alone. And thanks also to all the people we have met here that have been so wonderfully friendly and helpful.

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* * *

# Grand Canyon

**Old river....**

Friday, September 11, 2009

After leaving Monument Valley I crossed the border into Arizona, and drove about twenty miles south to Kayenda, where I finally turned west again, with the North Rim of the Grand Canyon as my destination for this evening.

However, once again, there are many points along the road worth stopping and looking at, and plans had to change as I realised that I would never reach the North Rim before dark. This really is an incredibly spectacular part of the country, and there is so much to see and do.

I stopped in the town of Page, and went to take a look at the huge Glen Canyon Dam and Lake Powell that it forms in the now flooded Glen Canyon. At the visitor centre a tour down into the centre of the dam was just about to start, and I hurriedly joined in. Some of the views of the dam and bridge, which is 700' high, were fantastic.

After visiting the dam I made my way into town to fuel up again, and headed to the local RV park, where rather cheekily, I filled my water tanks, and following someone else through the security coded door, I enjoyed the luxury of my first shower in three days!

That evening I drove out of town and found a quiet little roadside pull-off with a great view of the flat plain below, where the Colorado River begins to cut its deep path which is soon to become the Grand Canyon not far to the southwest.

After a much welcome long lie-in, I hit the road and stopped for lunch at Navajo Bridge, where one of the original bridges to span the Colorado River still stands. There is a newer bridge now beside the original one, which was never designed to cope with today's heavy traffic.

The original bridge is open to pedestrian traffic, and offers some beautiful views of the rafts on the calm waters of the Colorado River far below. I would love to come back one day and go rafting on the Colorado. The views from inside the canyon must be wonderful.

I eventually arrived at the Grand Canyon, which I visited last year in November, achieving Goal #14, although this time I was on the north side of the canyon rather than the south. Once again I am completely alone here, and like the last time I was here, the awesome majesty of sunset over such a spectacular location made me feel quite lonely and slightly melancholy.

I thought of the words from a song by Richard Ashcroft, called "Nature Is The Law", whose lyrics are always best when he is at his most reflective:-

Old river,

And your restless wonder,

And your graceful leisure,

Rolling to the sea.

Many men have stood like I am,

Gazing out and wishing for someone.

It is slightly ironic, however, that it is not actually possible to see the Colorado River from the viewpoints at the North Rim Visitor Centre!

After the sun had set I had to drive back out of the National Park, as the campground there was full, and no other camping was allowed in the vicinity. Outside the entrance to the park however, camping is allowed in the Kaibab National Forest, and I found a very picturesque, secluded spot hidden away up one of the narrow forestry roads.

Grand Canyon - East Rim.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

I had planned to be up before sunrise and make my way back into the National Park to see dawn break over the canyon, but when the alarm went off I really did not feel like getting up, so turned over and went back to sleep. When I did finally wake I decided to remain in the forest for another day, and relax a bit.

However, after breakfast, relaxing too the form of a four mile hike up through the forest to the East Rim, where there was not another soul. I spotted what looked like a wonderful viewpoint further down and around the valley, and tried to make my way there, but could not find a path. Undeterred, I made my way through thick undergrowth and on very steep slopes scattered with dead trees, towards where I thought the vantage point was.

Eventually I made it, wondering what it is that causes me to set these challenges for myself. But sitting there in silence, watching a couple of eagles soaring back and forth on the up-draughts just above me, I reflected that it is often only through such extra effort that such wonderful moments can be experienced.

By the time I made it back up to the forestry road, with a four mile hike ahead of me back down to the RV, it was starting to rain. Fortunately I bumped into a forest ranger, who kindly offered me a lift back down to the main road near to where my RV was parked.

I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening reading, and sitting out by a lovely glowing fire.

I did manage to get up when the alarm went off the next morning, and drove back into the national park, but instead of heading to the visitor centre, I turned off the main road onto the Walhalla Plateau, and saw sunrise from one of the viewpoints looking to the east. Once again, there wasn't anyone else around. It really does pay to get up a little earlier, and make that extra effort to get away from the visitor centre area, and be able to enjoy such majesty in total peace and silence.

Cape Royal Point further along this quiet stretch of road offers stunning views of the canyon, and the Angel's Window is quite breath-taking too. This is the only place in the North Rim National Park where you can actually get a glimpse of the Colorado River, over a mile below in the depths of the canyon.

It is hard to capture the incredible grandeur of the spectacle, and even multiple pictures of the sweeping vista do not truly do it justice. Eventually I stopped trying to capture the scene with my camera, and just sat and gazed in awe, trying to soak up the whole spectacle.

The huge scale of the place is hard to grasp, and signs point out the distances of some of the features that you can see. It is astounding that one of the closer buttes, which really does look close in comparison to the rest of the vast vista, is over two miles away. The far, south rim of the canyon, where I stood in November last year is ten miles away! Absolutely awesome!

Back at the North Rim, I went to the campground and used the showers and laundry there, before continuing north-west, crossing back into Utah again, and heading for Zion National Park.

More info on the Grand Canyon here:-

Grand Canyon National Park

###

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* * *

# Poker in Las Vegas

Gambling in Las Vegas.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

From Zion I drove down yesterday afternoon to Mesquite, just inside the Nevada border, and at the Nevada Welcome Center there I found a free wireless internet connection. I decided to stop there for the evening to update the blog and attend to my much-neglected email. Once the computer battery went flat, I went for coffee in Burger King just nearby to recharge it, and discovered that the wireless connection to the Welcome Center still worked from there. I was turfed out at 10pm though!

I stayed overnight in the parking lot, and when all my online jobs were done this morning, I picked up some Las Vegas info, and started my gambling research. An email from my friend Misty, who I met last year in Las Vegas, gave me some suggestions on casino choices for poker playing. Unfortunately Misty is away on holiday, so I won't get to catch up with her and Michael this time around.

I continued on to Las Vegas. I planned to visit Justin, Val's nephew, who had done a couple of the 7 Peaks with us, and made my way to his apartment complex with the assistance of the ever-useful GPS. I managed to get in to the gated complex via an unlocked gate, and made myself comfortable by the pool, meeting Justin when he finished work.

My plan is to head down to The Strip tomorrow to begin my poker goal. I haven't played since leaving Australia in May, so have decided to enter a couple of smaller tournaments first, to get back in practice, then achieve the goal in a bigger cash game.

So tomorrow (Wed 16th September) I plan to enter the $45 tournament at 11am at The Sahara, as suggested by Misty. On Thursday I am going to go to The Rio, home of the World Series Of Poker, and play in their $60 tournament at noon.

I then plan to play my $1,000 game on Friday evening, either at The Wynn, or Caesar's Palace, both of which run $2/$5 games with maximum buy-ins of over $1,000.

I have changed my poker goal slightly since first adding it to the list of goals, when I had no real knowledge of how tournaments are organised and played. It has become pretty clear to me that to enter a tournament that has a buy-in of $1,000 would really mean that I would be way out of my league, and I would probably just be throwing my money away.

So what I have decided to do is enter a cash game with $1,000 to play with, and potentially lose. To satisfy myself in terms of the goal, I think there are three ways that the goal will be achieved, and these are (in the most likely order, I imagine!):-

1). I lose all of my $1,000.

2). I play for at least 3 hours, and come away with whatever I have when I decide I have had enough, or

3). I end up well into profit, with over $3,000 in front of me!!

I can't wait to get sat down at a table tomorrow at The Sahara, but I am really looking forward to playing at The Rio on Thursday. As part of my preparations for this goal, I have on the computer the TV series of the World Series Of Poker 2007, which was played at The Rio, and have been watching an episode or two each evening as I have travelled through the National Parks over the last week or so. It will be very atmospheric to actually play there.

More on poker tournaments in Las Vegas here:-

AllVegasPoker.com

Poker in Las Vegas - Day 1.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

I left Justin's place on the west side of the city shortly after he went to work, and after doing a bit of grocery shopping, headed in towards The Strip. At the Sahara it was quite obvious that the RV was not going to get into the low clearance parking garage, but the valet parking guy directed me to Circus Circus, where there was plenty of open parking space.

Back at the Sahara, I paid my $45 and drew seat 7 at table 2. With twenty minutes to spare I found my way out to the swimming pool area for a short while, and then took my seat at the table, and with 4,000 in chips in front of me, began to play. It was quite a luxury to have a dealer, as in most of the pub games I played in Australia, everyone had to take their turn to deal. It was also nice to have someone bring you whatever you wanted to drink. I stuck with coffee at 11am.

I didn't get much in the way of decent cards for the first hour, and found myself reverting to my old ways and playing very conservatively, and my chips were slowly nibbled away. I made it to the break though, as a couple of the other more aggressive players around me were busted out.

At one point I had one of those moments of wonderfully satisfying clarity, when I realised where I was and what I was doing. I had just won a hand, and was stacking my newly-won chips, when it hit me! "I'm in Las Vegas, playing in a poker tournament," I thought excitedly, "and I know what I am doing too!"

However, it soon turned out that I didn't know what I was doing. I had two pairs, aces and queens, and ended up "All In" with the meagre balance of my chips, and was beaten by a flush that I hadn't even spotted as a possibility. Amateur!

Oh well, it was good fun to sit back down at a table and play, and I am really looking forward to tomorrow's game at The Rio. I only have three episodes of the 2007 World Series Of Poker, which was played at The Rio, left to watch as part of my homework!

Afterwards I made my way to Sam's Town Hotel, Casino and RV Park a couple of miles out from The Strip. It's a pretty nice place, only $18 per night for the RV, and there is a nice pool to lounge around by during the afternoon, and a free shuttle bus to The Strip. What a bargain!

Poker in Las Vegas - Day 2.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Day 2 didn't start so well. I took the shuttle bus from Sam's Town RV Park to The Strip, and walked to The Rio in good time for the start of the noon tournament, but was dismayed to find that the tournament now started at 11am, and I was too late to enter. The next one was not scheduled until 7pm.

I wondered what to do, and eventually decided to head back to Sam's Town for an afternoon of lounging around by the pool, and then drive in again for the 7pm tournament, as I am really keen to play at The Rio, home of the World Series Of Poker.

The shuttle wasn't an option for the evening game, as the last one back would be too early for me unless I managed to get knocked out of the 7pm tournament very early, which wasn't part of the plan!

I returned to The Rio at around 6.30pm and couldn't find a space big enough for the RV in the parking lot there, but managed to park easily in the huge Gold Beach casino parking lot just across the road. I registered for the $70 tournament, and drew seat number 6 on the only table to be used, and sat down to play at 7pm. With a couple of early bust outs and a couple of later arrivals there were about twelve people in the tournament, the smallest competition I have ever played in.

I think I played quite a bit better than yesterday, and won a couple of good hands, remaining competitive for a good while. I won a great "All In" hand against three others, with my pair of queens, and had a pretty good stack for a while. Unfortunately I lost about half of my chips in an unlucky hand just before the ten minute break, but did survive to return to the table.

Shortly after the break I had two possibilities for a straight, eight cards in all, and called what I thought was an "All In" bluff, but neither of my cards came up, and I was beaten by a pair of queens, ironically, leaving the table with only four players remaining.

My wallet is $70 lighter, but I had a brilliant evening. I loved playing in the home of the World Series Of Poker. Poker really is an exciting game, and in terms of thrill for your dollar, I reckon it beats many of the adventure activities I have spent similar sums of money on. It is a different sort of thrill though - a longer, lower level, but constant tension and awareness of nerves and concentration.

I am excited and nervous too about tomorrow. It will only be the second time I have sat down to play in a cash game, the first time being in Deadwood last year, where I blew $60 pretty quickly. I know a bit more about the game now, and am hoping that my conservative style of play will serve me well at a cash table.

As Kenny Rogers train-travelling gambling buddy told him:-

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em.

Know when to walk away and know when to run.

You never count your money, when you're sittin' at the table.

There'll be time enough for countin', when the dealin's done.

I hope I do know when to hold 'em, and when to fold 'em tomorrow night!!

Poker in Las Vegas - Day 3 - Goal 58 achieved!

Friday, September 18, 2009

What an evening! I am quite drained by my time at the poker table tonight. This evening's game certainly took me well outside of my comfort zone. After a lazy afternoon by the pool I took the 4.30pm shuttle into town, and made my way to my chosen game at The Wynn.

The walk from the shuttle stop was a nervous one, as the money I had chosen to play with, although not absolutely devastating if it did all go, was certainly a sum that would be uncomfortable to lose. But most of my poker experience is in very cheap tournaments, and I didn't really know what to expect of a bigger cash game. So with some trepidation, I put my name on the list for a seat at a table. My choice was a Texas No Limit Hold 'Em $2/$5 cash table, without an upper limit, so I could "invest" a sum of $1,000. I had to wait nervously for a while for a seat, and eventually sat down to play just before 6pm.

I surprised myself a little by playing fairly aggressively with the first couple of hands, when I received some decent cards, but lost both of the hands I got involved in pretty quickly, and was down by about $300 within the first ten minutes. I settled down though, and decided not to let the early setback get to me, and half an hour later won a pretty good hand, bringing me almost back to my starting point.

From then on I played fairly steady, winning a few, and losing a few, but my chips slowly dwindled. At one point the crunch came, and a young Australian guy across the table from me with a huge stack of chips went "All In", and after a brief hesitation I called him, reasonably confident with a ten in my hand to go with the two other tens on the board. The other guy had the fourth ten, and we split the pot, both profiting fairly well from other players bets.

I felt that was the moment when my goal was achieved, as the last of my money had been at risk, and felt pretty proud to be still in the game.

I ended up down by the time I had to leave, having lost over half of my stack, and when I cashed in, I collected over $400, just less than half of what I started with. However, I am generally a "glass-half-full" type of guy, and in this case, I reckoned anything that I came away with was a bonus.

It is pretty clear to me now that I am no poker genius, and at tonight's table there were guys that had a much better idea of what they were doing than I did. Others can see things that I simply miss, or discuss finer points of betting strategies that I only half understand. I certainly have no misconceptions about winning the World Series any time soon. However, I did have a fantastic time, and I know I will be taking part in many more, but less costly, games. I am glad to have experienced the excitement of a game at this level though, and do think that I got great value for money in terms of thrill and experience.

After I cashed my remaining chips in, I tried to find my way out to the street, but got completely lost in the huge place. These casinos are deliberately designed to let you find your way in, but make it very difficult to ever find an exit, I am sure! Eventually, with a little help I found my way out, and just made it to the Riviera in time for the last shuttle back to Sam's Town. If I had missed it, the taxi fare would have made serious inroads into the remnants of my capital!

I arrived back at Sam's town, and went into the casino there to grab a beer, but somehow found myself at the poker room, wondering how much the 11pm poker tournament might cost me! "What are you thinking?" I asked myself. "Quit while you're ahead - well, not ahead - but at least while you are no further behind than you need to be!" I really didn't think the $50 entry fee would be a good investment, and in the end I think I made a great value-call by investing a further $3 in three more beers and heading back to my RV to watch a movie.

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* * *

# Hollywood movie actor

Rejection!!

Friday, October 2, 2009

Last night I stayed in downtown Hollywood!! There are quite a few hostels on or near Hollywood Boulevard, and as I had to be in Burbank early this morning I decided to stay overnight in the city. I found a quiet little hostel just up a side street, almost right behind the famous Chinese Theatre, where actor's hand and footprints are set in concrete.

I was planning to catch up again with my friend Ari, the voice-over artist who I met last year when I first visited LA. So I settled into the hostel and made my bed, and then headed out to Sunset Boulevard, where I met Ari in a lovely little Indian restaurant.

It was good to catch up again, and compare notes on what we had both achieved over the past ten months or so, but I was more excited to find out that Ari had come out on his Segway, and after dinner I could have a try on it if I wanted. Ari was very pleased that I had never been on one, and that he could introduce me to a new activity.

I started slowly, and soon got the hang of the unusual machine, and Ari turned it up to full speed. Simply leaning forward or backwards makes the thing speed up or slow down, and a twist of the left grip turns the machine left or right. It was surprisingly quick, and great fun!

Afterwards, I drove the Segway back to Ari's apartment, where he showed me his home voice-over recording studio, and then gave me a lift back to my hostel in his Merc convertible. A great evening all round.

This morning I was up early, and took the metro then a bus, ending up in Burbank to go to Central casting, hoping to get listed as a movie extra. The place was packed, and after the initial introduction the queues of prospective fellow actors began to form.

I had a chat with a couple of the staff members, but it was very quickly made clear that I would not be able to be registered without a US work visa. Even if I wanted to appear on a voluntary, unpaid basis, it would not be possible, apparently.

This acting business is tough! I have faced my first rejection, and suspect there are more to come! I have another interview at a different agency tomorrow morning, but imagine it may well have the same outcome.

" **I'm Ready For My Close Up Now, Mr. DeMille!"**

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

The drive back from Lake Elsinore to downtown Beverly Hills early on a Monday morning is certainly a challenge in the RV, and took quite some time! The traffic is incredible! I have no idea how people can do this on a daily basis.

Finding a parking spot where i wouldn't get a ticket was the next challenge, but aided by Eric, who I have now met a couple of times here in LA, and who was meeting me for a coffee, I found a suitable spot.

At the One Source Talent office I met again with office manager Ema, and had some photos taken by Anji, and filled out some details for my "Talent Comp Card". I don't know if I can really be referred to as "talent"!

Check out my online profile at One Source Talent here:-

 Ian Usher - Talent: 39756

I can also print out or email my comp card, and pick different photos, depending on the role I am applying for:-

So I'm ready for my big scene now! Over to Ema and the team at One Source Talent. Ema has promised to try her best to help achieve the goal, and hopefully her team can come up with something. Thanks for all the help so far. How exciting!

Note: The blog title is the often misquoted line from the 1950 movie "Sunset Boulevard"

The actual quote, from actress Gloria Swanson at the end of the movie is:

"All right, Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up."

Progressing slowly.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

The last few days have been pretty hectic, and although it only seems to be slow, I think I am making progress towards goal #61. I got a tip from one of Evan's friends, and took a look at craigslist for opportunities as a movie extra. From adverts I found there, I have been to a couple of casting calls, and hopefully have secured a role in a scene in a movie which is due to be shot in the next few days. There are a couple of other possibilities too, so I am pretty positive about getting the goal achieved now.

I had a long day yesterday, as I decided I needed to rent a car for a while, as driving and parking the RV in downtown Los Angeles is a bit of an issue, as it won't fit in any covered parking lots, and won't fit in a single parking meter space. It is also pretty expensive to drive, as it does about 9 miles per gallon, and Evan's place is 60 miles from downtown!!

So at the airport where I had booked an economy rental for a week, they only had a cargo van available, and Evan had dropped me off and left me there! I had no choice but to take the cargo van into the city, as I had to be there in time for a scheduled meeting. Then after a quick conducted tour with Eric around the huge mansions of Bel-Air, I drove through Friday afternoon LA rush hour traffic to another car rental depot to swap the van for a small car and just made it in time before they closed. At the same time I was trying to field a couple of phone calls about the RV being advertised for sale, and immediately had to rush back to Evan's (more LA freeway rush hour traffic!) to show a prospective purchaser the RV.

All ended well though, as Adam bought my travelling home, and wanted to take it there and then. I hurriedly cleared my stuff out, throwing it into the boot (or trunk) of the rental car. I was sorry to see the place that has been my longest term home during the last year disappear down the road, but relieved that my finances are looking a little healthier now for the next part of my journey.

And so now with an economical and relatively easy-to-park vehicle at my disposal I decided to get out and about today. Clay Egan, who I met while in Salt Lake City in August, had emailed to tell me he was going to be at a four wheel drive expo in Pomona this weekend. I drove out there and we hung out for the afternoon, and I wandered around admiring the amazing vehicles.

The highlight of the afternoon for me was watching the daredevil BMX and freestyle motocross displays. Those guys are so skilful.

Later we grabbed some dinner, and I crashed for the night at his luxurious suite in the nearby Sheraton. It was great to catch up, and once again, it was very inspiring to be around someone so positive and motivated.

Downtown Hollywood!!

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

On Sunday afternoon I met again with my Segway-riding voice-over pal Ari Ross, who had kindly offered to give me a try at doing a voice-over in his sound booth. After some debate over the type of thing I should try, we settled on a movie trailer that Ari had done for New Films International, for a film called "Multiple Sarcasms"

It seemed an appropriate movie to pick, as it is about a man in his late 40's, who begins to question his life choices. He quits his job, gets a pushy literary agent friend to represent him and starts writing. Although his marriage ends in divorce, the play he writes is a success and although his life is now different from before, he is happier.

The original trailer, from New Film International, voice-overed (or should that be voiced-over?) by Ari, can be seen here:-

Multiple Sarcasms \- original trailer:-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-EGVHXMYgcw

This is me in the booth, being guided by Ari:-

"In The Sound Booth" video:-

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

And here is the edited end result, with me doing the voice-over:-

"Multiple Sarcasms – my voice-over" video:-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ot860YcTydc

Since the weekend things have been pretty slow, and I arrived back at Evan's beach pad on Monday and re-installed myself on his sofa. Evan has been amazingly tolerant of me drifting in and out of his place, and my time here in southern California has been so much easier (and cheaper!) thanks to his kindness.

We went out for dinner last night, and were laughing about the fact that he is largely responsible for me being on this whole journey. The start of this whole 100goals thing can be attributed to a great degree to one conversation we had back before the ALife4Sale eBay auction.

More details about that conversation here:

Goal # 100 - book deal!

At the time of the conversation we hadn't even met, and I thought it was funny that he was probably now thinking that he hadn't quite expected his suggestion to result in me living in his front room for several weeks!

It's all very much appreciated though, and I hope I get to repay the favour one day!

Today I have headed back into downtown Hollywood, and am staying for a couple of days at one of the backpacker places in town. Through AB Casting, who I am now registered with for an extra role, I received an invite to a red carpet screening of one of the movies they have been involved in. I thought it was this evening, but I got it wrong! Oh well!

I was also hoping that the goal of appearing as an extra in a movie was going to be achieved tomorrow, but it has been raining for a couple of days here, and the shoot has been rained off, and will have to be re-scheduled for next week. So I now appear to have a few days on my hands.

Ahh, what to do now then? Maybe I'll head down to San Diego tomorrow to visit some friends there for the weekend.

Goal 61 - "and......Action!"

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

It has taken quite a while to achieve this goal, but perseverance has finally paid off, and I'm glad that I scheduled enough time in and around LA to be able to do this.

As I drove back from San Diego yesterday my phone rang, and Angie from One Source Talent asked me if I was still in town, and if I was still trying to achieve my goal to appear as an extra in a Hollywood movie. I had not heard anything from them since I registered a couple of weeks ago, and thought I might not hear from them before I head off for Mexico. I am registered with another agency too, and am promised a role with them, but the scene they are shooting, in a nightclub, keeps getting pushed back, and I was starting to get worried that time might run out there too.

So it was with great relief that I accepted a background role as a guest at a bed and breakfast establishment, to be filmed on location in Malibu, for a movie called "Storage".

I received details and directions by email from Alesia, and was told to bring three wardrobe choices of casual clothes. That's fortunate! The only clothes I have are all pretty casual!

But on second thoughts this morning, I decided that most of the stuff I have is far too casual (meaning almost worn out) and the two smarter shirts I have managed to borrow are probably too dark (a light shirt was specified). So I made a quick stop at a thrift shop in Oxnard before heading down the coast.

I found the location, a lovely house in the Malibu hills with a beautiful outlook, overlooking the hills to the ocean, and found Alesia and a few other extras, and introduced myself. We were shown where to change, and from our clothes we had brought, our outfits were chosen. One of my new thrift shop shirts fit the bill perfectly! $2.50 well spent.

There was all sorts of activity going on, and calls for silence every now and then as a scene was filmed. I got to meet the lead actress, Sarah Jones, and took advantage of the photo opportunity.

Eventually it was time to film our scene, and we were sat on the balcony at tables, set up as a restaurant at a bed and breakfast place. My table consisted of three of us, and we were given a bit of background as to who perhaps we were, a couple meeting our nephew in LA.

For the scenes we had to mime conversation, but keep silent as the sound from the lead actors was being recorded. We shot the scene three or four times, and then took a break as something else was filmed. It was fun sitting around chatting with the other extras, and I got a photo taken with the rest of my co-stars - well, co-extras, really \- and with my "wife"!!

Later we shot the scene again from the reverse angle, pretending again to chat, eat, and sip wine.

It was all great fun, and I loved every minute of it. I chatted with a few of my co-extras about my goals, and why I was there today, and marvelled once again at the journey that all of this is taking me on. Here I was, in the hills of Los Angeles, filming a scene for a Hollywood movie! Awesome!

Thanks to all my co-extras for making it such a fun day, my "wife" Deebye, "nephew" Nathan, "couple" Tarvon and Viet, "brandy drinking magazine reader" Tom, and "waiter" Ian. Thanks too to all on set who were extremely friendly, encouraging and helpful.

Also huge thanks to One Source Talent, particularly Ema at the Beverly Hills office, who promised to help me initially, and Angie, who organised this for me.

Also thanks again to my buddy Evan, whose endless patience for me living on his sofa has made this time in LA so much easier.

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# Dia de Muertos

Heading down to Mexico.

Friday, October 30, 2009

I had an early start yesterday, and two flights later, after a short delay in Mexico City, I arrived late afternoon in Oaxaca (pronounced "Wa-haka"). A shared taxi minibus, at a bargain price of 44 pesos (less than $4) dropped me off right at the front door of the hostel I had booked.

I left my bag, and had to go out to find a bank for enough Mexican cash to pay for the hostel. Two blocks away I came across my first taste of the Dia de Muertos (Day of the Dead) celebrations, as a huge parade with a couple of marching bands blocked the streets. Everybody was in costume, and the air was very festive and fun.

In the hostel I met Rebecca from England, who was sharing the dorm room I was in, and we arranged to meet a couple of her friends that evening, Mark and Karen.

We met at 8pm in the main city centre square, the Zocalo, which is just around the corner from the hostel. The square is wonderfully festive, filled with brilliantly coloured and shadowed sand paintings or sculptures. Everywhere people are selling candy skulls and skeletons, and a Mexican band was playing.

We had dinner at a local restaurant, where I was introduced to the local dish, or sauce, mole, with chicken enchiladas. Afterwards we ended up in a local bar, where beer was on happy hour - "two-for-price-of-one" - and Mark insisted on shots of Mezcal, his including the worm from the bottle. What a great first evening in Oaxaca.

Magnificent Mexico!

Friday, October 30, 2009

For the past month or so I have been staying on the west coast of California, mainly living by the beach at my friend Evan's place. It has been pretty easy, as I rented a car for a couple of weeks, had my GPS, and could happily get around to wherever I wanted, the only real limitations being LA's ludicrous traffic!

However, my US time is just about over, and I feel that I am really travelling again, and today have really enjoyed that feeling of being somewhere completely unfamiliar.

The city of Oaxaca is a fascinating place, and it has been a real sensory treat to be in such a vibrant and unusual place. You can feel the excitement in the air as the two big days of the Dia de Muertos approach, and people are making preparations everywhere you look. Flowers are being sold on many street corners, as well as all sorts of candy skulls and skeletons as offerings for relatives who have passed on.

But it is the other differences that have stood out for me today, the sights that just make you stop and smile, or at times make you stop and look mystified. A shop selling a wide array of coffins, policemen with machine guns, colourful houses and murals, a dog asleep in the dust beside the road, oblivious to the noise and chaos around, traffic lights at junctions that merely seem to be a suggestion as to what might be appropriate, the vibrant market where about 90% of the food on offer is a mystery. It's such fun to be travelling again.

Today, following Rebecca's suggestion I took a bus out of town to see Monte Alban, a World Heritage listed pre-Hispanic city that was occupied for 13 centuries, from around 500 BC to 800 AD. What a fantastic place, quite similar, I thought, to Chichen Itza, which I visited back in July, but without the huge central pyramid.

It was also very interesting, because you could climb up to the top of some of the temples, which gave a magnificent view over the whole site.

On my return to the city I wandered again through the market, and was offered fried (or roasted, I'm not sure) grasshopper, which was surprisingly tasty, so I bought a bag of them, and have been handing them around at the hostel.

I am really looking forward to tomorrow now, and my first visit to one of the cemeteries.

Goal 63 - Dia de Muertos.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

After my trip to Monte Alban on Friday I took a wander around the city and enjoyed the festive atmosphere. The sand paintings and decorations are very eye-catching.

Later in the evening I had a couple of beers and quite a few shots of mezcal, the local drink somewhat similar to tequila, with a group of other travellers in the courtyard of the hostel, and so had a slow and easy start yesterday.

I set off late morning to try to find my way to a nearby town called Tule, again on the advice of fellow traveller Rebecca. I tried for some time at the crazy, run-down bus station to find the right bus, but my poor Spanish provided confusing results at best. Eventually I gave up and jumped in one of the shared taxis with a group of locals, and was pleasantly surprised that the 13km journey only cost me 8 pesos (about 70 cents).

There isn't much to see at Tule, other than the spectacularly huge Arbol de Tule, a tree estimated to be well over 2,000 years old, and still doing well. It absolutely dwarfs the church whose grounds it stands in. It was nice to sit in it's shade, and contemplate the history that has happened during it's lifetime.

Back in Oaxaca I took some photos of the large sand paintings/sculptures in the Zocalo, the main centre square of the city, while it was still light, then later met with Rebecca, Mark and Karen, and another five travellers, and we set off for Panteon General, the main city cemetery. On the way we came across a comparaza, a big parade of people in Halloween costume, accompanied by an exuberant marching band, and joined them.

The cemetery itself was lit by candle light, and was very atmospheric, and preparations were being made for a concert later that evening, as an orchestra and choir made their preparations.

But I had read alot about a cemetery further out of town in a place called Xoxocotlan, (pronounced Hoho-cotlan, or simply Hoho, with a throaty Spanish accent on the h's!) and was very keen to go there. Most of the rest of the group were happy to stay in town, and in the end only myself and Finnish traveller Essi went to find a taxi, which was much easier than we had expected.

We entered through the gate of the cemetery, and were quite awe-struck. The scene was quite beautiful, very much as I had imagined it might be. As far as you could see there were graves covered in intricate flower decorations, and lit with candles. Family groups sat around many of the graves or tombs, all ages represented from oldest grandparents to sleeping toddlers.

At many graves the mood seemed to be quiet and reflective, but elsewhere celebrations were in full swing. Fireworks would shoot into the air, bands played, and there was much laughter and cheering too.

I talked for a while to one guy sat with his family at his father's grave, and he explained that they came to be with their relatives, and let them know that they were still cared for, and on this one occasion each year were welcomed as they came back to join their family once again. Many people bring the deceased relatives favourite food or drink for them to enjoy, and there was plenty of mezcal being drunk.

I found it all quite emotional, at times saddened and reflective, but at times laughing and clapping along with others as one of the bands played favourite tunes around a grave.

We wandered until around midnight, and then went into the thronging little market area for a bite to eat, heading back afterwards to wander some more.

The whole experience was fascinating and thought-provoking, the different attitude to death, and celebration of the lives of people who have passed on being very interesting to consider.

My thanks to Essi, who was a perfect companion for the evening, sharing my thoughtful and reflective mood, and I was very pleased that she had also wanted to make the extra effort to visit this touching event. I think it would have been a bit more challenging and confronting to be there alone.

Thought-provoking last day in Mexico.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

After the previous night out in Xoxocotlan cemetery I had another relaxing start to the day, sitting in the sunny courtyard of the hostel writing my blog, and trying to figure out some transport options for my forthcoming trip to China. It was pretty quiet at the hostel, and I shared cooking duties with one of my room-mates, and we shared a "make-it-up-as-we-go-along" lunch.

In the afternoon I made a quick visit to one of the many museums in town before meeting again with Essi to go and take some daylight photos in the main cemetery. It was fairly quiet there, but quite a few people were washing and decorating graves and tombs for the evening. We wandered around quietly enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.

On the way back into the city Essi suggested we could get some materials to make our own Dia de Muertos offering, as we were invited to another hostel to join in making a group display. We bought flowers and candy skulls, but unfortunately plans had changed a bit at the hostel we went to, the owner not allowing many people in after we managed to slip past her guard.

We made a small display on a table, which was fun, but not quite as personal as I had expected.

Later, when Essi and many of the others decided to take a taxi out of town again to another small town I opted to stay in the city, and returned to the main cemetery alone. There, out in the quieter outer parts of the cemetery, I sat alone by an undecorated grave, and thought of some of the people who are now gone from my life. I tried to embrace the Mexican idea of focussing on happiness for the time I had with them, not sadness due them no longer being here.

What a thought-provoking time my days here have been. I have enjoyed the somewhat introspective nature of this trip south of the border. Thanks to all I met and shared time with in Oaxaca.

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# Elephant Round-up

One night in Bangkok.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Well, three nights in Bangkok, actually. My ex-brother-in-law Tony has lived in Bangkok on and off for around six years now, and I haven't seen him for over four years. So I thought that as I passed through Bangkok on my way to see the Elephant Round Up, it might be a good chance to catch up again.

I have passed through Bangkok a few times before on my travels to and from Australia, so it is nice to be back again. It's a huge, busy, chaotic, fun city. One of the things I like most here is the huge wealth of really cheap, really tasty food choices. Absolutely everywhere you walk there is a huge array of little street carts cooking all sorts of tasty-looking foods. A decent chicken-fried-rice as a pavement restaurant costs around a dollar, and is usually delicious.

Today I had a few practical things to do out and about, so met Tony close to the school where he teaches English, and we went for an early lunch. Afterwards i took the bargain tourist ferry along the river, a fantastic 20 Baht (around 60 cents) to travel almost right across the city on the river.

The river is a splendid chaos of barges, ferries, long-tail boats, floating restaurants and assorted other craft, all vying for space on the crowded water.

At my ferry stop I made my way to Bangkok-Backpacker-Central, the must-see Khao San Road, packed with dreadlocked, baggy-trousered travellers from all over the world, scouring the fantastic street market for t-shirt, flip-flop and DVD bargains.

A cab ride took me to the railway station, where I booked my ticket for a seven hour train journey tomorrow to Surin, to the east of Bangkok.

All organised for the next two goals now, I hope, although accommodation arrangements in Surin are a little sketchy at the moment - I'm sure it will work itself out, it usually does - so we're off out for a few beers tonight!

Pachyderms practicing.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

A speedy and exhilarating, but quite nerve-wracking ride on the back of a moped taxi through the Bangkok morning rush hour traffic got me to the train station in about twenty minutes flat, a journey that may have taken around an hour in a taxi cab. The 2-car train rattled slowly eastwards for around seven hours, and I got off at Surin with quite a few other fellow travellers to be greeted by several elephants and their handlers waiting at the station entrance.

I wanted to linger a while, but also knew that I should secure a hotel room as soon as possible, as the town's accommodation fills fast in the build up to the weekend's festivities. I had met Joy on the train, a veteran visitor to the Elephant Round Up, this being her fourth time, and she suggested I try The New Hotel first, right by the railway station. As I passed the elephants, one reached it's trunk out, and I patted it - the first time I have ever touched an elephant.

I managed to get a room without trouble, in the mis-named establishment. It has been many years since this place could have been called new! However, even when the price per night doubles for the festival weekend, the cost of my room only becomes around $10 per night. Marvellous.

Joy gave me directions to the wonderfully vibrant street market, and I dumped my bag and went for a spicy dinner, chosen from the vast array of tempting and mysterious foods on offer. After a quick chat with a few other regular Round Up veterans, I decided to have an early night, as I had discovered that there is a dress rehearsal for the weekend's big elephant shows first thing in the morning at the stadium. It is not advertised, but you can go along and watch if you want.

I was up early and bought some breakfast (fresh pineapple) at one of the street vendor's carts, and then walked to the elephant stadium. I found a good spot at the front just before the start of the rehearsal. The place was packed with school groups and hundreds of other elephant enthusiasts.

The show was pretty spectacular, but the best moment by far was when all the elephants filled the stadium field at the same time, approximately 250 elephants streaming into the centre of the football-pitch-sized arena from all four corners, circling around in the middle, then all sitting down. It was quite breath-taking.

I watched entranced as elephants played football, threw darts, painted and twirled hula-hoops, and one elephant easily beat a group of 30 volunteers in a tug-of-war. After the show rehearsal I wandered the streets, fascinated by scenes of elephants wandering around in the busy city traffic. I took a walk past the Elephant Buffet Breakfast site, which is scheduled for tomorrow morning, and was amazed at the staggering amount of food being prepared. I guess 250 hungry elephants can get through alot of fruit.

After lunch, back at the hotel by the railway station, I made a start on this blog, but was interrupted by elephant trumpeting just outside my window. I went out to investigate, and grabbed a bag of sugar cane from one of the mahoots (elephant handlers) and fed an elephant. It really is incredible to be able to wander around freely with these huge creatures, and to have it nudge you with it's trunk for another piece of food, which it delicately takes from your hand. What an experience.

Check out the video from today's pachyderm practice event:-

"Elephant Round-up" video:-

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

Goal 65 - Riding in the Elephant Parade.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Well, here's another example of achieving a goal in a manner way beyond what I could have hoped for or expected. I had heard rumours that tourists could ride the elephants (for a fee, of course!) in the Elephant Parade, as the elephants make their way from the start of the route, which is right outside my hotel, to the Elephant Buffet Breakfast site.

I was up early, and in the hotel lobby I got chatting to Irene, who was also wondering about riding an elephant in the parade. We decided to pool our resources and share the cost of an elephant taxi, and before long Irene had found us a pretty large elephant for the journey.

Outside the hotel preparations were in full swing, with colourful floats, dancers, and elephants all arriving in the square. Irene introduced me to Darlien, our 30 year old female elephant, and Peter, our mahoot.

When the time arrived we climbed up onto a tall fence, and then one foot on Darlien's huge head, and up onto the seat. It seemed very high up, but the ride was very smooth and steady, and we soon relaxed.

The parade began, and we all filed down the main street, which was wonderful - a huge long line of elephants ahead and behind us. The atmosphere was very festive, the parade route lined with school children, families and holiday-makers.

The journey lasted about twenty minutes, and we were eventually dropped off at a tall platform just before the elephants entered the roundabout area, and on into the buffet.

Irene and I followed a couple of elephants into the buffet street, and I was slightly surprised, having lived mainly in health-and-safety obsessed Western countries, that nobody seemed to mind, or wanted to stop us. But we weren't the only ones, and the street was filled with a mixture of people and elephants, all wandering together. Both busily taking photographs, Irene and I soon got separated in the crowds.

The elephants tucked in with enthusiasm to the huge spread of tasty elephant treats, and I wandered around happily among them. It was incredible to freely wander around among the huge animals, and I was amazed at how relaxed and gentle they were when you fed them something. All the elephants seemed very aware of people around them, and always avoided collision, but you had to keep a wary eye behind you as they tended to approach quietly, and were right behind you before you knew it.

I loved every minute of it, picking up some bananas or corn, which seemed to be the favourites, and offering them to a passing elephant, which would collect them gently with its trunk, if it wasn't already well stocked up.

The atmosphere was wonderful, and I walked the length of the buffet a few times, sometimes taking pictures, sometimes just enjoying weaving in and out of the groups of giant creatures towering above me.

What an absolute delight! Thanks to Irene for joining me aboard this goal, and of course to Darlien and Peter.

Some video of the event here:-

"Elephant Parade and Buffet" video:-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rjylUBM0j8s

Goal 66 - Elephant Round Up.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

The main elephant show at the Surin Elephant Round Up takes place on both the Saturday and Sunday mornings. I had gone shopping for a ticket on Friday, and had bought a ticket for the second show on the Sunday, as Saturday was selling out fast.

This morning I wandered to the stadium, buying a couple of BBQ sticks for breakfast on the way from one of the many street-cart vendors. One of my favourite things about Thailand is that you never really have to consider food. You can simply wander around, and there is a wealth of great stuff on sale from carts or small roadside restaurants anywhere you go.

I bumped into Irene again at the entrance to the stadium, but had to go our separate ways, as we had different tickets. For a while I sat chatting with the Thai family in the seats next to me, and enjoyed the show, which ran to pretty-much the same timetable as the rehearsal I had seen on the Thursday morning.

Once again, my favourite part was when over 200 elephants streamed into the stadium from all directions, and circled around in the centre - absolutely breath-taking.

When the elephant tug-of-war was announced, an invite was issued for the "farangs" (foreigners) to come down onto the field, and I couldn't resist the chance to join in, meeting Irene again on the way to the middle of the stadium. Our team of around sixty of us were fairly easily beaten by the incredibly strong elephant.

Irene was pretending to be a press photographer, and simply stayed down on the edge of the field, so I did the same, and had a brilliant front row view of the elephant football game. Next we waved cameras about and blagged our way into the expensive seating, and high up in the stands had a great view over the whole field for the mock battle finale.

What an awesome spectacle the whole event is. This year is the 49th time the festival has been held, so I suspect next year will be a huge event, and I would heartily recommend that any elephant fan should make the trip to experience this incredible gathering.

Thanks again to Irene for her "press-photographer" skills, and for blagging one of the Surin 2009 floor mats for me as a fantastic souvenir.

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* * *

# March of the red crabs

Deja vu again.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

It's been another long day of travel and waiting today. I managed to get a few hours of sleep last night on the airport floor in a quiet corner tucked away behind the closed restaurants. There were a few other vagabonds bedding down there too.

I got up at around 5.30am, and went to check in, and we were in the air shortly after the scheduled departure time of 7am. It's a two hour flight to Christmas Island, and on the way the captain informed us that the island was shrouded in fog, and we would have to hold for a while. Eventually the fog cleared a little, and a landing was a possibility.

I got a brief glimpse of the island through the thick dark clouds as we lined up, but on the bumpy final approach full power came back on just before touchdown, and we climbed steeply again. The captain told us that conditions had been too bad to complete the landing, and as the forecast offered little hope we had to make the two hour return to Singapore.

The rest of the day back at the airport seemed to slip by quite quickly, helped by a fantastic complimentary meal, and access to the premier lounge. I am now a fan of premier lounges! It's a whole new world in there! Free beer, wine, coffee, food, TV, internet, massage chairs, and more. The rest of Singapore airport is really good too - X-Box games, a gym, gardens and relaxation areas - plenty to fill a day on standby.

Our flight was re-scheduled for early evening, and the same small group of people sat in the same seats again in an almost empty plane, and there was plenty of humorous chatter about the familiarity of the occasion.

We followed the same route out again, except this time Singapore was lit by the last rays of sunset, instead of the first rays of morning, and we were served dinner instead of breakfast. On the flight south we flew by a huge thunderhead, lit from inside by spectacular flashes of lightening.

Despite the problems, SilkAir did a great job, and the staff really looked after us. I seem to have developed a really relaxed attitude to the travel recently, and am simply enjoying the journey for its own sake. It helps that I have plenty of time to spare at the moment, as the crabs aren't going to disappear from the island anytime soon!

Christmas Island.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Accommodation on Christmas Island always looked like it was going to be a bit of an issue, and is something I have been trying to resolve for quite a while. From what I could find out on the internet, there is no form of cheap hostel or backpacker-type accommodation, and the only options on offer on the Christmas Island Tourism Association website seem to be expensive resorts and luxury cabins. There is no way I can afford $150 per night for a couple of weeks!

So helped out by Katrina at the Christmas Island Tourism Association I got in touch with the local newspaper, The Islander. The paper is published fortnightly, and they kindly placed an advert for me, asking if anyone could help me out, by maybe renting me a room or lending me a couch for a few nights.

I also finally decided it was time to find out more about "couch surfing", which has been mentioned to me a few times as I have travelled. I registered at couchsurfing.org, which is a network of fellow travellers who help each other out with travellers' accommodation - a couch to stay on - surf the world from one couch to the next. I think it's a fantastic concept, as I already know that you meet some amazing people while travelling. I will certainly be offering a couch if and when I ever settle in one place again.

On the website I found only one person on Christmas Island with a spare room to offer, and contacted Braydon, fully expecting his couch to be occupied for the crab migration season. Not many backpackers ever make it to Christmas Island, he has only hosted three people, and I would be welcome to use his spare room. Brilliant!

I finally landed at Christmas Island at around 7pm, about 11 hours later than scheduled, and the friendly customs officer asked if I had found any accommodation yet - he had seen my ad in the local paper! I was met outside the airport by Gordon, who had also read about me in the paper and had emailed me. He runs Island Taxis, and had kindly offered to give me a tour of the island and drop me off at my accommodation. However, it was now dark, and the open air cinema had just started it's showing of "The Taking of Pelham 123". "I also run the popcorn stand there," Gordon told me, so I quickly rang Bray. "I'm at the movies!"

Gordon knew Bray, everyone seems to know everyone here, and pointed him out on the outdoor cinema bench. We said a quiet hello, but couldn't speak much more for the next couple of hours, as we watched the movie, which was pretty good.

On the way to Bray's apartment we had to weave around on the road quite a bit to avoid the occasional crab, and on just outside the flat I got my first close-up look at one of the Christmas Island red crabs, which was climbing up the wall there! It was pretty big - seeing thousands all on the move together will be awesome!

Thanks to Gordon for the airport pick-up and potential accommodation, and Bray for the spare room. Can't wait to see the crabs out in force over the next few days!

Island life.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

I have been on Christmas Island for a few days now, but haven't really had much chance to get out and about. I have had some minor financial challenges, and had to make some quick decisions to avert further, bigger problems over the coming few weeks.

For the past 6 or 7 months I have been using my US funds from my US bank account, but I am down to the dregs now, and am going to have to start dipping into my Australian funds, from the sale of the house.

Prompted by arriving here on Australian soil, I got my AU $ and bank cards out. I have about $100 in cash, my bank card's expiry date has already passed, and my credit card expired yesterday, at the end of November. I presume that there are new cards in an envelope stored away somewhere in Perth, but I have yet to figure out how to get hold of them.

So for the past couple of days it has been a bit of a mad dash to book as many of my forthcoming flights as possible and get them paid for on the credit card before it expired yesterday. I have been in front of the computer almost full time for two days, but have made great progress.

I had originally planned to head down to Perth after Christmas Island, and spend Christmas there before setting off on Trip 3, but plans there fell through, and I have decided to continue travelling instead. The following is an outline of what I have managed to book for the next few months:-

12th Dec - Christmas Island to Kuala Lumpur

13th Dec - Kuala Lumpur to London

15th Dec - London to Reykjavik, Iceland

23rd Dec - Reykjavik to London

1st Jan - London to Cape Town, South Africa

20th Jan - Johannesburg, South Africa to Santiago, Chile

23rd Jan - Santiago to Easter Island

30th Jan - Easter Island to Santiago

30th Jan - Santiago to Lima, Peru

2nd Feb - Lima to Cuzco, Peru

9th Feb - Cuzco to Lima

9th Feb - Lima to Buenos Aires, Argentina

There are still a few more things to arrange, including figuring out accommodation too at each place, but at least the major flights are now booked and paid for

Still to arrange:-

South Africa

\- trip to Victoria Falls

South America

\- flight (or bus?) to Iguazu Falls

\- flight (or bus?) from Iguazu Falls to Rio, Brazil

\- Rio Carnival

\- flight Rio to London

Can I ask a bit of a favour from any friends or family in the UK? The above timetable means I will be back in England over Christmas and New Year, and mum still thinks I am going to be in Australia then. Can anyone that is in touch with her please not let the cat out of the bag, as I intend to do the "Surprise!" thing on Christmas Eve. Let's keep it a secret until then, shall we? Thanks.

So I have only seen a little of the island so far. On Sunday afternoon Braydon took me on a bit of a tour, and pointed out several places I should go and see - caves and lookout points and so on. We also got a dinner invite from his National Parks work colleague Clare, and it sounds like I might get a chance to do a bit of volunteer work with them in the forest one day, plus perhaps fit in a bit of diving too.

There are crabs all over the place, wandering around on the roads and footpaths, climbing up the walls stairs, and hiding in damp corners. You really have to watch your step in flip-flops (or thongs as we call them here!) We even had a crab wander into the living room the other evening.

Time to get out and about now and see some more of the island over the next few days. Braydon has kindly lent me his bicycle, so I should be able to do plenty of exploring.

Island weekends.

Monday, December 7, 2009

During the daytime over my first week on Christmas Island I have had to pretty-much entertain myself, as most of the other people I know here have to work, of course. But as Friday afternoon approached I got to see a different side to island life, and an idea of how full the weekend would be.

Rob and a few of the other teachers would be going for a round of golf on Friday afternoon, and I was invited to join them. I lined up a few excuses for my up-coming poor performance, and joined Rob and John, who I already knew, and Tim and Aaron, and with some borrowed clubs and hopefully enough balls to get me around the course (I always expect to lose a few!), we teed off.

The course is in a spectacular location, the sea off to one side, and huge Jurassic Park-style cliffs and jungle to the other side, the beautifully kept fairways themselves being lined with coconut palms - a few of which I managed to hit during the game.

Apparently at times during the early evenings the fairways and greens can become covered with crabs, but most of the males seem to have headed back inland now, and there were only the dead bodies of those poor crabs that had not made it back across the hot wide expanse of the golf course.

I was quite impressed with my first drive right down the middle of the fairway, and continued to be surprisingly pleased with myself for most of the rest of the nine holes. I made a few bad strokes, but less than I expected to.

Friday afternoon golf has many competitors, and ultimately scores are added up, beers are drunk, a few small prizes given out, and one unfortunate loser has to wear a toilet seat around their neck for the rest of the evening! After handicaps were taken into account, I was impressed that I had managed to avoid this fate by a couple of strokes!

Afterwards there was a great curry - school camp leftovers - and more beer of course, and then I was dropped off in town for the next event of the weekend.

My couchsurfing host Braydon had been working on a video edit of an event he had helped organise several months earlier, and was screening "The Christmas Island Amazing Race - Teen Edition" on the big screen outdoor cinema in town.

I chatted with Gordon, island taxi-driver and cinema refreshments purveyor, and bumped into Claire, one of Braydon's work colleagues, who had made us a fantastic dinner earlier in the week. I sat with Claire and watched, very impressed, the very entertaining production. Braydon, and others involved had obviously put in a huge amount of work, and the competitors were obviously thoroughly enjoying themselves.

On Saturday morning I joined Rob, John and Tim again, and along with Dave went to explore Daniel Roux Cave. The island is mainly limestone, and so there are quite a few caves. The one we explored involved a long climb down numerous ladders, then a walk/swim through fresh water until there is light at the end of the tunnel, and you can see where, with a longish swim-through, the cave exits to the ocean. I considered the swim out, but decided against it without fins - apparently it is quite a long way, with no stop-off point once committed.

Both Braydon and I went snorkelling in the afternoon. The bay right outside Braydon's front door is incredible, packed with the most amazing corals and fish right at the shore. There is a huge drop-off where the seabed drops away a few metres from shore down into the dark blue depths. It is quite an eerie feeling to swim along over the coral covered bottom, and then out over the void, with the steep wall just disappearing down into the blue.

We had a birthday party invite from another of Braydon's work colleagues, Finn, and what was meant to be a relatively quite evening before another big day out turned a bit vague and hazy by the end of the evening. I have no idea what time I got to bed, but didn't feel too great the next morning as I prepared for a big caving expedition.

A group of us, led by yet another of Braydon's colleagues Chris, made our way down a steep path, and then struck off into the jungle, following the directions on Chris's GPS unit. It was hot and sweaty going, and with machetes we battled through the thick undergrowth, and over the sharp limestone pinnacles.

We climbed back up some steep cliffs, but over four hours into the trip we still had not found the cave! There was some doubt now about the GPS co-ordinates, and suspicion that someone had changed them for a joke. Eventually a couple of the group made it to the GPS waypoint, but it wasn't where the cave should be. We finally made the decision to head back, as we had another four hours return battle through the jungle, and it was now early afternoon.

It was an absolutely exhausting day, and after eight hours of slogging through the hot jungle everyone was worn out. The only saving grace of the day was the wonderful swim in the ocean at the end. It was a pretty good day of exercise though, and Braydon reckons that after that, the trek to Machu Picchu next year should be a doddle.

Claire had invited me to go diving, but I had already accepted the caving invite. On the drive back from the non-caving expedition Claire sent me a text message saying that they had swum with whalesharks during the diving trip. I should have picked the diving trip, I think!!

It is amazing how busy the island has seemed over the weekend. During the week I seem to have had the place to myself, and even when Brad took me out fishing, we only saw one other boat out there. Over the weekend there seems to be so much going on, with different groups going fishing, caving, diving, swimming, or golfing. The bay was busy with all sorts of boats. What an active place!

Goal 67 - Crab spawning spectacle.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

I had to move house earlier this week, as my couchsurfing host Braydon had his landlord moving into the room I was using. However Claire, Braydon's work colleague, herself a brand new couchsurfing host, offered me her spare room, so on Tuesday afternoon, after a snorkel down at the cove, I moved house.

I have spent a couple of very relaxing days reading, writing, watching movies, and wandering about the island in the cooler hours of the day. Claire took me to see The Blowholes after work on Wednesday, where, when there is a swell, water is forced up through cracks in the limestone, and shoots spectacularly skywards. The roads on the way were covered in crabs, most laden with young, and we had to be very careful not to run over any of them.

Yesterday, along with Meryl, we went to Lily Beach, and then up to the awesome Golf Course Lookout. Here, high on the cliffs above the golf course in the late afternoon all the fishing birds are returning from their day out at sea, and using the cliff up-draughts, glide serenely upwards from down below. I could have sat here for hours watching them, but we had a radio show to go to.

Kent, another of the National Parks crew here, has a weekly two-hour chat and music slot on a Thursday evening, and armed with beer and food, we made our way to the studio. Meryl had a bit of a chat on-air with Kent, and then I somehow found myself in the chair with headphones on. It is the first radio interview I have done with a beer in my hand - all very relaxed, Christmas Island-style, and great fun.

Yesterday evening Braydon collected me to drive down to South Point, where at the Chinese Temple there was a celebration of the birthday of the Chinese god Kang Tian Tai Di, and everyone was invited. The whole affair was very cheerful, and there was a huge spread of food put on. The was a seer who had flown in from Malaysia for the event, and he cut his tongue with a sword, blessed scrolls, and gave out advice while under the spell of several Chinese gods.

Everyone was welcome to join in, and we received red stamps on the backs of our necks, apparently for good luck, and I got a scroll with some tongue-blood just to be sure!

I wasn't really sure what was going on most of the time, but Kang Tian Tai Di certainly seems like a friendly sort of god, as apparently he had no problem with most of his Chinese worshipers wandering around the temple with a can of VB beer in their hand!

When the alarm on my phone went off at 2.45am this morning it felt like I had only just got to sleep, even though I had finally managed a pretty early night. I got up quickly to avoid falling asleep again, and Braydon picked me up soon afterwards, along with Dylan and Sarah, and we made our way to Greta Beach on the east coast of the island.

After a short walk down a dark forest trail we arrived at a stairway high above the beach, and we could see below the torches of others who were already there. As we climbed down, we could see more of the beach, and it was teeming with crabs. They were everywhere! You had to be really careful where you walked, and if you paused for more than a second or two, there would be crabs crawling across your shoes.

Even more spectacular were the steep, overhanging cliffs, which in places were completely red, no rock showing at all between the heaving, scrabbling masses of crabs. I was surprised that out of all those crabs clinging on upside down to the overhangs I only saw one fall off.

We all watched fascinated as endless streams of crabs made their way down to the water's edge, and then as the waves covered them, they would lift their claws up and stand tall, bouncing up and down to release the eggs into the sea.

I took my shoes off to go into the water to record some video of this incredible event, and for the rest of the morning had to do my best to avoid the sharp feet of the scrambling crabs. They never nipped though, just climbed over your feet and continued on their way.

As it started to get light the numbers coming down to the water thinned out, until eventually as the sun rose there were just a few stragglers coming down to release eggs. The cliffs were still packed with crabs, and on our walk back to the vehicles, the road, which two hours earlier had been empty, was now alive with brightly coloured, freshly washed crabs heading home, job well done.

It is now a few weeks until the return, when after hatching at sea the tiny baby crabs return to land. Apparently, if there is a big return, it is an equally spectacular event, and maybe one day I will come back to see that too.

Back at home I packed my bags, had some breakfast, and it was time to head to the airport, my fantastic two weeks on Christmas Island at an end. It really is a very special place, with some unique wildlife. My time here has also been made very enjoyable here by the many people who have welcomed me into their lives for the short I have spent here.

Particular thanks to Braydon and Claire, my couchsurfing hosts for their wonderful hospitality, but to everyone else I met too, a huge thank you for making me so welcome, and sharing your amazing island home with me.

Christmas Island video.

Monday, December 14, 2009

It's taken a few days to get round to doing it, but as promised, here's a video of some of the highlights from my two weeks on Christmas Island. It took a while to edit it down to this length, as I had so much good footage. Thanks to Claire for a couple of the video clips of the whaleshark. Hope you like it:-

"Christmas Island" video:-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8SD0V-8AaMo

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# Easter Island

Isla de Pascua.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

The flight to Easter Island, or Isla de Pascua in Spanish, took around five hours, and I was met at the airport by Barbara from Kona Tau Hostel, which I had booked for one night. I have been trying to find a couchsurfer to stay with on the island, but I have only found three people here registered on couchsurfer.org. I managed to get in contact with two, but unfortunately both have their couches occupied during my time here. However, at the last minute, late night on my last evening at the hostel in Santiago I got a message from Andres, the third person I had written to, and he said I could stay at his place for a couple of nights. Fantastic, I think it will be great to get a bit of local insight into the island, rather than just joining an island tour.

After dropping my bags off I took a walk into the little town, Hanga Roa. The whole place reminds me very much of Christmas Island, where I spent two weeks in December last year. The islands are similar in size, Easter Island being a little bigger, I think. Both are formed by past volcanic activity, both pretty tropical, although the slopes of Easter Island are bare compared to the thick jungle of Christmas Island, and both are very remote. The population on Easter Island is bigger than Christmas Island, around 3,800 here compared to 1,400 on Christmas Island. The whole little town has a very similar, local, friendly feel to it, with small shops filled with hideously expensive food, all of which has to be flown in from afar, just like Christmas Island.

I walked down to the seafront, where there was a surf competition taking place on what looked like a pretty dangerous break with some nasty hidden rocks. Just along the coast by the tiny little harbour I came across my first carved moai, one of the huge, elongated head-shaped sculptures that the island is famous for.

In town I researched car hire prices, which are, unsurprisingly, expensive. I think a scooter, at $60 for two days represents better value than $80 per day for a car. The island is only 24 kilometres long and 12 kilometres wide, so shouldn't be too bad to get around on two wheels. I am looking forward to doing some exploring over the next few days.

Basic bicycle blunder.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Do you ride a bicycle? I'd like some feedback from you on a question I have, which I'll come to shortly.

I have ridden bicycles since I was a kid, and have ridden motorcycles since I was 15. I've had my fair share of falls and scrapes, even breaking my collarbone in a spectacular cycle incident at the age of 12. And although I don't consider myself any sort of cycling expert, I've always thought of myself as pretty capable on a bike.

And so yesterday, when I found myself off the bike and on the ground, sliding quite painfully and, I imagine, quite spectacularly through the gravel, I cursed myself for making an error so basic as using the front brake on a gravelly surface. How could I be so stupid? I knew better than to use the front brake, even in a quick automatic reaction when a car suddenly appears around the corner. I could ride better than that, couldn't I?

Andres, the couchsurfer I had heard from just before flying to the island, came to visit me at the hostel on my first day on the island, and that evening we went out for a couple of beers. He said I could move into his spare room the next day, and as I ate breakfast at the hostel yesterday morning, he dropped his bicycle off, which he said I was welcome use throughout the week if I wished.

It was quite a tricky ride from the hostel to his house with both of my rucsacs on, but I'm pretty good on a bike, I thought! I made it without incident. Later in the afternoon I decided to head up the hill to the south of town to one of the island's interesting locations.

I was going quickly downhill towards the main road, and at the junction ahead, unwisely decided to cut the corner and try to keep my speed up. I was unlucky, and there was a car coming the other way. I hit the brakes. The front wheel locked instantly, and down I went at high speed, onto my left side, re-scraping the same arm injured in my fall off the ostrich, and hurting the same ribs again! I was winded but basically okay, and the concerned car driver was soon on his way again, after stopping to help me.

I abandoned my journey, and headed back to Andres's house to painfully clean the gravel out of my wounds. I was cut, scraped bruised all over - left thigh, left hip, ribs, left shoulder, and right palm.

Later in the evening I was invited to Diana's, another of the island's couchsurfers, for a fantastic dinner, and decided to cycle there. I had a few glasses of wine with dinner, and made sure I took it pretty carefully, weaving my way home at midnight, but at one point had to brake approaching a junction.

"Wait a minute..." I thought to myself. "There's something odd here!" and I stopped to examine the bike, testing both brake levers. Now, every motorcycle I have been on, and I am pretty sure every bicycle I have had, had always had the front brake on the right. A motorcycle will of course have the clutch on the left, but a scooter or bicycle will have the back brake on the left.

As I examined the bike in the darkness my spirits soared. The front brake was on the left! When I had reacted automatically in the face of gravelly danger I had pulled the left lever pretty hard, and on most bikes this would have resulted in a controllable rear-wheel slide. But not on this bike! It had locked the front wheel and down I had gone! I was so pleased that I hadn't made a stupid error. My only mistake was not to have realised earlier that the brakes were the other way round.

And so I ask you... Which side is your front brake on? Does anyone else ride a bike with the front brake on the left? Is this a common thing that I need to watch out for? Let me know! It might save me more pain in the future, particularly as I am considering a big mountain bike descent in the mountains of Peru. Thanks.

Goal 74 - Rapa Nui.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Last night I was invited to Diana's house for dinner, the second of the three Easter Island-based couchsurfers that I have met, and she made a fantastic spaghetti bolognese. She is from Switzerland, and has been living on the island for a year and a half, working as an alternative healer. I met five of her Swiss friends who were visiting, as well as Annette, another couchsurfer staying there.

Annette is from New Zealand originally, but has lived and worked all over the world. She is right at the end of her own incredible journey, having just rode a motorcycle all the way from the tip of Alaska, down through Canada, USA, Central and South America. She made it to Tierra Del Fuego, and with the end of the momentous journey in sight, only 200 kilometres to go to the very tip of South America, remembers nothing more until she woke in hospital five days later.

She has a broken collarbone, and her crash-damaged bike is currently in a repair shop in Buenos Aires. She still has no idea what happened to her, and how she crashed the bike.

You can read more of her adventures on her website:-

<http://www.alaska2argentina.co.uk/>

We found we had alot in common, and spent the evening comparing travel experiences, injuries and adventures. We met the next morning for breakfast in a cafe, and Annette had decided to hire a car for her last day on the island, but needed me to act as her driver, as her shoulder isn't up to the job.

By 11am we were in a Suzuki 4WD and heading out of town for Rano Raraku, a volcanic crater on the north-east side of the island, which was known by the original inhabitants as Rapa Nui, the navel of the world. The crater was used as a quarry, and it was here that many of the amazing stone heads, called moai, were originally quarried and carved, before being transported to their standing locations.

The place is absolutely extra-ordinary. There is a lake in the volcano crater, and dozens of wild horses roam around freely. On the inside slopes of the volcano crater, many moai stand looking westward. Some have fallen over, some are only half finished. We wandered around between them, marvelling at the work involved to put them there. On the outside of the crater there are many more heads, even bigger and more impressive. The whole place has a strange, slightly surreal feel about it, and we happily soaked up the atmosphere.

Not far away at the coast we stopped to look briefly at Ahu Tongariki, where there is an impressive, and much photographed line of fifteen heads standing silently side-by-side. It is quite breath-taking.

We followed the road all the way around the island, stopping at several other sites, including the spectacular Ahu Akiva, where another line of 7 moai face directly towards where the sun sets at the equinoxes.

The whole island is steeped in history, and much mystery still surrounds the moai, and the reasons for building them. Read more about what is known of Rapa Nui's unusual and fascinating history at Wikipedia here.

We returned to town, and ate wonderful empanadas, a sort of huge pie filled with meat and cheese, and watched surfers on the popular surf break, and then it was time for Annette to pack her bags and I dropped her off at the airport.

Back at home I met Andres, and as promised he was ready to give me my first Spanish lesson, and we spent an hour or so working through numbers and colours, using pool balls as teaching aids.

Annette had only needed to hire the car for the minimum 8 hours, but for 5,000 Pesos more (about $10) the hire could be extended to 24 hours, so I had paid the extra, and have the car until tomorrow morning. Andres had some work to do, so headed up the hill out of town to watch sunset at the lovely high point at Orongo. Viewpoints here look down one side into a huge volcanic crater.

On the other side there is also a wonderful view westward over the sea to the two tiny islands offshore where clans would compete against each other in a dangerous "Birdman" competition. This involved climbing down the steep cliffs, swimming out to the further of the two islands, getting a bird's egg, and being first back to shore and up the cliffs with an unbroken egg. A representative of the winning clan would hold the powerful position of "Birdman" for the next year.

Just before I arrived on the island I downloaded and watched the 1994 Kevin Costner-produced movie "Rapa Nui" which wonderfully dramatises the making of the moai, and the birdman competition. It is well worth watching, particularly for some historical context and the spectacular locations.

My thanks to Andres for kindly providing accommodation, bicycle, Spanish lessons and more, to Diana for a wonderful dinner. And of course, huge thanks to Annette for taking me along with her on her last day on the island, allowing me to achieve goal 74 with her. What a wonderful day.

Andres has said that I can rent his scooter over the next few days, and I plan to be out as much as possible, exploring more of the interesting locations on this fascinating island.

Around Easter Island.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

I still had Annette's hire car the next morning, and deciding to make the most of it, got up at 6am and drove north-east in rainy darkness to see sunrise at Ahu Tangariki, on the east coast. Quite a few others had the same idea, so there were quite a few of us wandering around in the gathering dawn enjoying the atmospheric spectacle.

I had planned to go out later in the day on Andres's scooter, but the rainy weather continued, and I decided to use the rest of the day to relax and unwind instead. I read my book, dozed a bit, watched a movie and read some more. I think I must have been pretty run down, as I ached a bit after my bike crash, and despite sleeping for a couple of hours during the day, after another Spanish lesson with Andres, I slept for ten hours!

I felt wonderful when I woke this morning, and headed out on the scooter to see more of the island. It was a great ride in the sun up to the north coast of the island. I took the scooter down some narrow, unmarked tracks, and enjoyed the rugged coastal scenery. It is all very wild and spectacular.

My main goal was to see Anakena, one of the island's very few beaches, and another fascinating and picturesque moai site.

I also swam at the beach, as it was such a nice day. There was a decent surf rolling in, and I did a bit of body-surfing, but gave up when I lost my goggles - don't want to lose my contact lenses too!

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# Travelling low point

High peaks and low troughs.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

After the literal and emotional high peaks reached in the past week, I discovered once again that when the low points come, they are very low. I have often thought about how when travelling, life's emotions seem amplified, and have sometimes described it to people, suggesting that it is "like living life with the volume turned up to eleven!" The highs are wonderfully high, but the lows are pretty tough to take sometimes.

And once again today I found out how quickly things can go from being well planned, running smoothly on course, to all going horribly and disastrously wrong.

I have been in Kathmandu for over four days now, and while I have enjoyed relaxing with little to do, other than work on upcoming plans, I can think of much nicer places to be stuck with little to do. With a permanent supply of electricity I could have managed to do so much more, and would have welcomed the time to get on with writing some of the book, or even watching a few movies, but long periods without electric mean either sleeping, or wandering the noisy, chaotic streets. I do enjoy this, but have been in Kathmandu long enough, and feel ready to move on now.

I have been pretty tight with my money for these days, as I spent a little more on the trek that I originally budgeted for, and wanted to get through these final days, changing the least amount of extra money as possible.

So it was with a feeling of relief that I finally headed for the airport, just four more days of third-world chaos in India, before looking forward to the calm oasis of a couple of weeks in England.

I joined the line to check in at the Jet counter, and after half an hour, got to the front, only to be told, "No, you are booked on Jet Airways, that line over there. This line is for Jet flights."

I looked up at the board above me. "Right, so Jet and Jet Airways are two different companies?"

"Oh yes sir," I was happily told, and had to join the end of the most enormous check-in line I have ever seen. An hour later I made it to the front, and was asked "Where is your visa?" I pointed out my Nepal entry visa confidently, knowing I was leaving well inside the allotted 30 days. "No, your Indian visa, sir?"

"I'll just get that at the border," I answered hopefully, my heart beginning to sink. Apparently that wasn't possible. I suggested I would simply use my UK passport rather than my Australian one - after all, India used to be part of the Empire - surely a British passport still has some advantages there?

Not at all, India, it would appear, requires that all visitors have a visa in advance. I was not going to be allowed on the plane at all. I tried explaining that I had an onward ticket from Delhi to London, and would simply transit through instead, hoping to resolve the issue on arrival there. But because my London ticket is booked for over four days away, I would be sent back to Kathmandu, as a transit departure has to be within 24 hours of arrival.

What could I do, I asked, and was told my only option was to go to the Indian Embassy here in Kathmandu and get a visa first. What about my flight leaving in a couple of hours? All I got was the address of the Jet Airways (not Jet!) office in Kathmandu, and an uncaring "Good luck!" All very reminiscent of the LAN airlines fiasco in South America.

Now I do appreciate that I have no one to blame but myself, and what is particularly frustrating is that I have had four empty days when I could so easily have resolved this. But in almost two years of travelling, only one other country has been awkward enough to require a visa sorted out at an embassy in advance - China. I have travelled through Europe, Asia, North America, South America and Africa, and in every place I have been, have either not needed a visa, or have paid the requisite amount of dollars, and simply got a visa at the border. Why would I expect India to be any different, especially with a British passport in my pocket?

With the last dregs of Nepali rupees in my pocket I negotiated with the owner of the dodgiest looking taxi outside the airport. At the Jet Airways (not Jet!) counter, I had been informed that the embassy would be open until 5pm today, and from 9 'til 12 tomorrow. In the taxi, as we sped through dirty back streets I still harboured visions of a quick visa issue, and a dash back to the airport just in time to catch my flight

At the embassy it was obvious that this was not how it was going to be. It doesn't open at all on Saturday or Sunday, so it will be almost two days until I can even get in there on Monday morning! This is going to make it extremely tight to get from Delhi to Agra to see the Taj Mahal, then back to Delhi to get my flight to London on Wednesday.

Despondently, I got the taxi to take me to the Jet Airways (not Jet!) offices. Ah, but of course, it was Saturday afternoon and they had just closed at 2pm. Completely at a loss, and with no Nepali cash at all on me, I got the taxi driver to take me back to Thamel, where I changed one of my last US$10 notes and paid him his 100 Rupees. With my bags I wandered back to my cheapie hotel, and booked back in for the night, unsure of what to do next.

I had a chat with the owner, who offered some helpful advice, but basically there is nothing at all I can do about a visa until Monday, and the process of issuing the visa can take some time. I have to sort out a new flight, but daren't do this until I have the visa in hand. Time is against me, and a goal as simple as seeing the Taj Mahal looks like it may now be slipping out of my reach.

I went out for a cup off coffee, and then back at the hotel I found the electricity was off again. I'd had enough, and decided to just lie down and fall asleep. I considered brushing my teeth, and couldn't believe the colour of the water coming out of the tap. It looked like milky tea. "This is it," I thought. "I've reached the lowest point of my travels so far!"

I simply crawled into bed, my mind shying away from trying to resolve the problems, and closed my eyes, just wishing for the world to go away for a while!

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# Taj Mahal

Last day in Kathmandu \- I hope!!

Monday, April 26, 2010

I have been feeling a bit like I imagine Martin Sheen's character, Captain Willard, may have felt in one of the scenes from classic Vietnam war movie "Apocalypse Now". For a while he is stuck for days in a hotel room in Saigon, "getting weaker, while Charlie crouches in the jungle, getting stronger". Well, I have been suffering the Kathmandu version of the same scene, watching my goals slip slowly out of sight, but without even the bottle of whiskey to help pass the time, only the occasional cup of coffee at the cafe round the corner!

But finally, things are starting to come together a little bit now. Shailu, manager here at Hotel Nana, has been wonderfully helpful, and introduced me on Sunday to an agent who could help expedite my Indian visa application. We filled in the forms, and first thing this morning I met the agent at the Indian Embassy. The crowds there were huge, and as is often the case at these places, chaos and confusion reigned!

My agent was also processing an application for a German guy, and we got chatting. Another travelling regular, he said, "I got a numbered ticket from the machine when I arrived, just in case!" He showed me his ticket, number 40! I laughed. "Me too," I said, and showed him my ticket, number 41. A little insurance is often wise in these situations. It might have only been about two hours until they got to our ticket numbers! Alot of people were going to have to wait longer than that!

However, our agent was as good as his word, and had ticket number 1, and only ten minutes after the scheduled opening time, the first ticket was called forward - that counts as being on time here in Nepal!

So, hopefully by 6pm this evening my visa will be delivered to the hotel. Back at the hotel before lunchtime, Shailu took me to confirm and pay for the flight he had reserved for me yesterday afternoon, and I now have my second ticket from Kathmandu to Delhi, having paid another $131 - my first ticket was non-refundable, of course!

So this is cutting things very fine, and only gives me 24 hours in India, but I spoke to the wonderfully helpful Avhi back at my trekking company Himalayan Encounters, and he rang a contact in Delhi, who is going to try to organise a car to take me from Delhi to Agra, visit the Taj Mahal, and then back to Delhi again before my flight to London.

It's going to be cutting it very fine to actually arrive at the Taj Mahal in time to get in, but hopefully I will have no issues getting back for my London flight - can't afford to miss that one, as there is still a large degree of travel chaos here after the Icelandic volcano issues earlier this month!

The whole journey is not going to be cheap, I don't imagine, but once again, I really have nobody to blame but myself. I just hope it is worth it!

For the fact that it may still even be possible for me to see the Taj Mahal on this trip, I owe a huge debt of thanks to both Shailu and Avhi. Despite my issues here in Kathmandu, I still think it is a great place, and there are some wonderfully friendly and helpful people here.

But I still hope that I can escape finally tomorrow morning!!

Goal 84 - Taj Mahal.

Monday, April 28, 2010

Well, where do I start with this goal? What an unusual, and incredibly full day and a half. This has been one of the most trying and difficult goals to arrange, and I have had many problems to overcome, and ultimately the achievement was a long way from being satisfactory. But the experience of trying to make it happen was quite extraordinary.

Yesterday morning I caught a taxi at 6am to Kathmandu airport, arriving just before 7. My flight wasn't until 9.30, and I was hoping that by being early I might avoid the chaos that I had seen a couple of days earlier. There was already a huge line just to get into the airport, and at the door a few surly security officers were checking passports and tickets. Fortunately I had a paper print out of my ticket, otherwise you are required to get the laptop out and show them your confirmation email!

Inside I was one of the first in line for the Jet Airways check-in. I met one guy there who was on his third visit to the airport to try to get out, as every flight is so overbooked with passengers who have been delayed by the Icelandic volcano problems. Being early was looking like a good idea. I was eventually issued a seat number and a boarding pass.

The waiting room was packed, and incredibly unorganised, and at 9.30 there was still no sign of being able to board. Eventually we got on the plane, but were still on the tarmac at 11am, finally away over an hour and a half late, which meant I landed more than an hour late in Delhi.

Time in India was going to be incredibly tight! With only 24 hours available, public transport was never going to get me to Agra to see the Taj Mahal, and back to Delhi in time for my London flight, and I had no intention of missing that, as another flight would be hard to organise, and a further financial disaster. So, Avhi at Himalayan Encounters in Nepal had arranged for a car and driver to meet me at the airport, and whisk me straight to Agra. It certainly wasn't a cheap option, but was about the only way I was going to get to achieve my goal. My alternative was simply to sit around at the airport for a day and a night, and give up on the goal.

So as I emerged into the sweltering Delhi heat, I was met by Johari, who had a sign with my name on it, and we were on our way. Unfortunately the trip by car takes about five hours, and with the late arrival we only had about a 50:50 chance of getting to the Taj before closing time, depending upon the traffic.

The journey was quite an eye-opener! I had thought Kathmandu seemed chaotic, dirty and disorganised, but India has it beaten hands down! The roads are packed with cars, buses and trucks, and weaving through them are thousands of motorbikes, scooters and bicycles. Thrown into the mixture are hundreds of tuk-tuks coughing black fumes, rickshaws, tractors, and carts being pulled by horses, bulls, or camels. People walk through this speeding chaos to cross the road, and bus passengers climb up and down off bus roofs in the middle of busy intersections. Every second vehicle has a huge reminder painted on the back to use your horn, and every driver does so at every possible opportunity. It is so non-stop noisy!

Johari did his best in the crazy Indian traffic, and for a while we thought we might just make it, but we hit Agra pretty much at rush hour, and the sun was only about half an hour from setting. Eventually we had to admit that we weren't going to get in, and Johari suggested we to another point across the river, where we would have a wonderful view just as the sun was setting. I suggested that if we weren't going in, maybe a couple of beers might be in order, and we bought six monster bottles on the way.

The Taj Mahal was very impressive, even from a distance. It is huge, and the people visible across the river, outside the building gave the place some scale - it really is quite breath-taking. The view was only slightly marred by the razor-wire fence in front of us, barring us from getting any nearer.

As the sky darkened and an almost full moon rose, Johari pointed out a temple across the river, where bodies were being cremated, their ashes due to go into the holy river in front of us. There were three fires burning, and it was very atmospheric.

But we only had about 20 minutes before darkness fell, and I felt a little disappointed that I was achieving this goal in such a poor fashion. For possibly the first time on my travels, it felt a little as if I was simply coming to look at something, so I can tick it off as seen on a list. The feeling was strengthened by the fact that afterwards we simply turned around to head back to Delhi, another five-hour drive through chaotic traffic, this time seeming even more dangerous in the dark.

But it was on the journey back that I really began to appreciate the uniqueness of the whole experience. It had cooled a little, and we drove with the windows wide open. Everywhere was packed with people, and on the outskirts of Agra the poverty was very apparent, some people obviously just living under tarps by the roadside, or in tiny mud huts.

But everywhere there were street carts cooking food, and selling all sorts of everything. The smells were wonderful, and basking in the warm glow of a couple of big Indian beers, I hung my head out of the window, and tried to absorb the whole atmosphere. I laughed with Johari, telling him I felt like a dog must feel, head out of the window sniffing at all the unusual smells. I'm imagine my tongue maybe lolled out a bit too. I had only had two bags of crisps since the tiny breakfast on the plane from Nepal.

I had nowhere planned to stay for the night, and asked if Johari had any cheap hotel suggestions, somewhere that would still be open after midnight when we got back to Delhi. Otherwise it was back to the airport for a night on the floor there, I told him. No need, he replied. We had got on really well on the journey, and he had already spoken to his wife, and told her he was bringing a guest home for the night. We wouldn't be stopping for food either, dinner would be ready when we got to his house. I was very flattered.

Johari lives with his wife Indra, and two sons Pritesh and Nilesh, in a tiny one room house, which serves as bedroom, living room, dining room and kitchen all in one. There is a little bathroom too. Also visiting and staying the night was Johari's brother and his son too. Indra made us a fantastic meal of several different curries and sauces, along with hot chapattis, and we finished the remaining beers. My bed for the night was on a small sofa at the end of the bed, and seven of us slept scattered around the small room.

Indra made us omelette for breakfast, and I tried to find the words to express my thanks to her and Johari for their wonderful hospitality. I truly felt so honoured to be taken in by them, a complete stranger breezing through, and to be so well looked after.

Johari came with me first by rickshaw to the metro, and from there to the bus station, where he put me on the right bus for the airport. Once again I tried to express my gratitude, and we said our goodbyes.

Gazing out the window of the bus I thought long and hard about the previous 24 hours, and was so grateful that I had decided to make the journey. As it turned out, the day had little to do with visiting the last remaining seventh wonder that I hadn't yet seen. It was about meeting a new friend, and learning something of the true meaning of hospitality.

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# Shuttle launch

Shuttle launch.

Friday, May 14, 2010

Linda, and her husband Brian, contacted me to say that they were going to be down in Florida at the same time as I was. I haven't seen them since October 2008, when Linda gave me the "Sopranos Tour" of New Jersey, and took me to achieve Goal Number 10 at Six Flags New Jersey, by riding the monster rollercoaster Kingda Ka.

Linda emailed and told me that they intended to go and watch the space shuttle launch on 14th May. I had no idea this was scheduled, and found out that after this, there are only two more shuttle missions before they are retired. I couldn't possibly miss that.

So after our last evening in Tampa, where we shared a lovely Thai meal with Cari and her husband Mart, we drove the next morning over to the east coast. There was alot of traffic, but we eventually found somewhere to park at Titusville, and found Linda and Brian among the crowds.

The build up to the launch was atmospheric, and at 2.20pm, as scheduled, to huge cheers from the crowds, the shuttle took off. We saw it first as the huge blast of the initial thrust appeared on the horizon. It was several second before we heard the sound!

It was pretty spectacular, the huge flame bright below the shuttle, an impressive vapour trail left behind as it headed skywards, accelerating quickly. Moe and I were both wearing, very appropriately, our t-shirts from Aurora Aerospace that Chip had given us the day before.

After a quick bite to eat, we said our goodbyes to Linda and Brian. It was lovely to catch up with them again, and I am looking forward to seeing Linda in New York again on July 4th for the 100 goals final day.

We then made our way down to Miami, arriving fairly late, and booked in to a cheapie hotel for the evening, ready to try to find some sort of Caribbean holiday in the morning.

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# Earthquake!

Another active volcano... and an earthquake!

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

On our last full day in Quepos, Moe and I were keen to go out on the horses again, and John and Jelene were kind enough to take us back to Finca Tranquila, despite not wanting to come riding a for third time. Raoul had our usual two horses ready, and promising not to be too long, Moe and I were off.

We crossed the river again, and then chose a different track to the first ride we had taken out that way. With this being our last opportunity, I was keen to do as much galloping as possible, and Lucero and Vanessa seemed willing, and we covered distance pretty quickly.

My decision to wear shorts started to look a little misguided, as my calves started to develop a couple of new saddle-sores to add to my previous ones, but after turning for home the horses were still keen, and we galloped much of the way back. It was a wonderful experience, and I felt so much more at ease at speed.

Every now and then I would look over at Moe galloping along beside me, and despite the fact that we weren't on a beach at sunset, this really felt exactly like I had hoped my horse-galloping goal would feel. I was in control and felt (reasonably) confident, and best of all, I had a wonderful partner at my side on another horse.

We stopped at a little bar and tied the horses up, ordered a couple of beers, and chatted with the friendly locals. The second beer allowed the horses to cool down properly, and then we crossed the river and headed back to the stables.

John and Jelene had been drinking too, and were lounging around by their friend Skip's pool. We joined them, and unfortunately two beers and high spirits got the better of Moe, and I ended up in the pool fully clothed. Sadly, my camera was in my pocket, and was completely flooded. I think there may be a few less pictures on the blog for a while.

The next morning we took the little twin-prop Piper back across to San Jose, and as John had a meeting to go to, Jelene, Moe and I ended up with a vehicle and driver for the rest of the day. A trip to one of the volcanoes was soon decided upon.

I wonder if I could have simply taken the last year of goal-achieving off, and then then just come to Costa Rica to catch up. Once again I have revisited a previously achieved goal at the impressively active Volcan Poas. It is a spectacular crater, with huge clouds of sulphuric steam rising out of the lake in the centre.

Eventually we had to say our goodbyes to Jelene, who was staying at the luxurious Hilton Hotel. Our driver Alex dropped us off at our previous San Jose hotel in the city centre with a slightly worried "Are you sure you want to stay here?" I don't think he was used to dropping his clients at such cheap digs!

At one point during the evening in the hotel room the bed started shaking and lurching. We looked at each other, thinking the other was doing something to shake it. But neither of us was, and we realised that we had just experienced our first Costa Rican earthquake!

It turns out that it was a 6.1 magnitude earthquake!

The wonderfully luxurious holiday is now over, and we flew back to Miami last night, picked up a car and have just driven overnight to Tampa airport, where Moe now flies back to Canada, and I take a flight to Colorado.

It has been a fantastic week in Costa Rica, and I can't thank Jelene and John enough for their kindness and hospitality. They have certainly allowed Moe and I to experience some things that we certainly wouldn't have done otherwise. And my thanks also to Moe for being a wonderful travel companion for the last three weeks. I am certainly going to miss her when we go our separate ways. But I am hoping that maybe this isn't quite the end of this story just yet. Watch this space!!

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* * *

# Independence Day in New York

Return to New York.

Friday, July 2, 2010

Val dropped me at the airport in Colorado Springs early in the morning, and my first flight took me to Dallas. On the flight they read out boarding gates for connecting flights, gate B24 for my flight to Newark, New Jersey. At Dallas I made my way to the gate, and with time to spare, bought a coffee and did some writing on the computer.

About twenty minutes before departure time I realised that there had been no boarding calls for my flight. I looked at the gate, and there was nothing happening. I went and re-checked the departures info, and was horrified to realise that my gate was A24, not B24. Like I had in May a year earlier, I found myself sprinting through the airport, and once again was lucky enough to make it with seconds to spare. I was the last person aboard.

In New Jersey, Linda and Brian collected me at the airport, and took me to their house. I stayed with them when Linda took me to Six Flags New Jersey to ride Kingda Ka, and Moe and I met up with them again more recently in Florida to see the space shuttle launch.

We went out to dinner to a wonderful Italian restaurant, where Linda and Brian were very well known as popular regulars. The first bottle of wine went down very easily, and we ordered a second. That also disappeared easily. Brian then insisted on a whiskey or two at the bar before we left. Four large whiskeys later we headed for home.

Now, bear in mind that over the last five weeks I have drunk a grand total of four pints of beer, so am very much out of practice! Apparently we had more whiskey when we got back home, but my memory of this is very vague!

Now all of this would be fine, if I hadn't had an interview with BBC radio in England. Just after midnight my phone rang, and I do have a hazy memory of an almost incoherent interview. I must have sounded terrible. It was being recorded for later transmission, and I have no idea if it was used or not - I really hope not!

The next day I took it easy, recovering slowly, and declaring miserably, "I am never drinking again!"

In the afternoon I took the train to Penn Station in New York, and from there another train out to Long Island, where I am staying for the next couple of days with Lilly and her family, husband Leo, and kids Nicole, Chris and Leo.

I first stayed with them back in October 2008, and they all came along when we went to the Statue of Liberty. It feels very fitting to be back here again to complete my journey.

Final day in New York.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Lilly, Nicole, Chris and Leo Jr. joined me this morning for the journey into the city, and from Penn Station we took the Subway south, and made our way to Battery Park. They had been with me when I achieved my first US-based goal, visiting the Statue of Liberty back in October 2008

It was a beautiful hot day, and the ferry to Liberty Island was packed. On the island we made our way to the base of the flagpole again, and waited for Linda and her mum Nancy to join us from the New Jersey side of the river. Linda had taken me to ride Kingda Ka rollercoaster, again back in October 2008.

At the statue once again, almost two years since I was last here, it seemed that the time had passed so quickly. And yet at that time I was less than ten weeks into my 100-week adventure, and I have packed so much into the ninety weeks since then.

At that time, it was only possible to go up to the base of the statue, but today the statue is open again, and we had tickets to get up into the crown. Unfortunately, the ones I had given to Lilly and family had different names on, and could not be transferred, and ultimately, only Linda and I reached the crown, Lilly and family heading for home again after going up as far as the pedestal.

Gazing out over the magnificent view from the crown, I enjoyed a quiet, reflective moment, and thought about all of the amazing things I have done over the past two years, and the wonderful people I have met. I don't think that it has quite sunk in yet that the journey is finished.

Coming back down to the pedestal, I was surprised and pleased to be met by Essi, who had shared the amazing experience of the Festival of the Dead with me in Mexico.

In the afternoon, having said goodbye to Linda and Nancy, Essi and I headed for Central Park, arriving an hour late at the location I had picked for any final people to meet us. The "Sheep Meadow" was huge, and packed. Even meeting up with Essi's friend Malick took some co-ordination!

Thanks to a vendor selling under-cover beer in the park, I finally got to enjoy a Heineken in the sun. The park was such fun, with roller skaters, drumming groups and buskers all adding to the holiday atmosphere. One guy had a sign offering "Free debate about whether we have freedom of choice!" I was tempted to have a chat with him, but decided against it! Haha!

After dinner the three of us battled through 4th July crowds, and watched the fireworks over the Hudson River. We had left it a little late, and couldn't get too close - the crowds were amazing, and most approaches to the waterfront were closed off by the police, but we managed a reasonable view.

The walk back to Penn Station was fun in the huge, friendly crowd, and saying farewell to Malick and Essi, I caught the train back to Long Island.

So, that's it! The journey is over. It is exactly 100 weeks since I got on the plane from Perth to Dubai on Sunday 3rd August 2008.

And what a journey it has been. I have made many fantastic new friends, seen some incredible things, and enjoyed more than my fair share of experiences of a lifetime.

I have felt the amazing highs of achievement, happiness and love, and the lows of disappointment, loneliness and despair, and every emotion in between. I have often told people that a journey such as this feels like living life with the volume turned up to eleven! The highs are higher, but the lows are lower too. This is something I want to explore much more in the book I have started about this whole adventure.

More details on the book "A Life Sold" here.

As the final day of my long journey, I could not have asked for a better day than today. Lilly, and her kids Nicole, Chris and Leo Jr. were wonderful companions to spend another day in New York with, and it was great to see a few more familiar faces from my journey too. Thanks to Linda and Nancy, and Essi and Malick, who all helped make the day very special.

What a wonderful end to an amazing journey.

Monday, July 5, 2010

And finally....

I must finish with a HUGE thank you to everyone who has been a part of this whole adventure.

To all of the people I have met on my journey, to those who have helped out or joined me on some of the goals and adventures. To those who have offered accommodation, or food, beer or coffee. To those who have supported and encouraged, whether in person, by email, in comments on the blog or on the forum. And to those who I have not heard from but have been interested enough to just read some of the stuff I have written.

Thank you all. You have all helped to make this the most incredible two years of my life, and I couldn't have done it without you. I will be forever grateful to you all for being a part of this wonderful experience.

May all your goals be achieved.

Ian Usher.

New York.

5th July 2010.

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* * *

# A LIFE SOLD

What ever happened to that guy who

sold his whole life on eBay?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

YOUR AMAZING TRAVEL EXPERIENCES

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

Further info here:

Your Amazing Travel Experiences

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

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

Happy travels,

Ian

# More adventure travel books

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

ADVENTURE TRAVEL

16 stories from a world traveller hoping to provide little

inspiration for your next travel adventure.

MORE ADVENTURE TRAVELS

11 more stories of worldwide adventure to further

inspire you towards your own travel goals

ADVENTURES IN THE AIR

14 high-flying tales of airborne adventure to inspire

your travelling spirit to soar.

ADVENTURES UNDERWATER

10 watery tales of excitement under the sea to whet

your appetite for your own travel adventures.

AMAZING TRAVEL EXPERIENCES

15 more stories from one world traveller hoping to provide little

inspiration for your next travel adventure.

MORE AMAZING TRAVEL EXPRIENCES

13 more globe-trotting travel stories to inspire

you to kick-start your own adventure

TRAVEL TIPS

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

next adventure less stressful and more enjoyable.

and COMING SOON from Wider Vision Publishing:-

YOUR AMAZING TRAVEL EXPERIENCES

Do you have any travel stories or adventures you

would like to see published in future releases?

More info here:-

Submit your own travel stories for publication...?

A polite reminder:-

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

Once again, your support is much appreciated.

Happy travels.

Ian

# Excerpt from "A Life Sold"
Prologue

View From A Bridge

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ALife4Sale

Chapter 1

A New Start

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

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

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

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

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

\---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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.

\---

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.
