Trekkingnut

2012-06-06T14:28:00.000+01:00

Great way to come back to the UK, Jubilee bank holiday monday spent multi pitch climbing in the Avon Gorge (66m) and then sea cliff climbing with an abseil start down in Devon! lovely weather, great company!

2012-04-28T04:45:00.001+01:00

I will quite happily admit, sitting on the summit and looking down the massive face on my right, there was a sharp puff of a breath there.... quite a breath taking view!

2012-04-23T15:22:00.000+01:00

Well, my recent expedition with Quest Overseas has come to an end. I had a fantastic group, not one big argument in the whole 3.5 months! unbelievable!

Heres a short video detailing the adventure sports phase of the trip. We did everything from trekking in and out of the second deepest canyon in the world, through to kayaking on lake Titikaka, the highest navigable lake on earth.

What a great trip and a great itinerary!

2012-04-08T01:12:00.000+01:00

Great day!!!! woooo!!! damn hard climb but worth every second!

2012-02-28T16:41:00.000+00:00

Work so far this year has been great fun and Ecuador was great. The expedition has now moved on to Peru and soon off to Bolivia!!! Loving it!

Finding food....

2011-11-21T11:22:00.001+00:00

Fish are not always readily available as streams may be too small....

However, birds are common place in most areas of the jungle. This simple yet highly effective trap will allow you to catch a variety of jungle fowl.

Lighting a fire in the morning....

2011-11-21T11:10:00.002+00:00

A lot of people look at the pile of burnt logs in the morning and get frustrated that they didnt manage to keep their fire going all night.

If you are lucky enough to find an ember then you can restart it quite easily. If all the embers are out, then a fire steel will relight it in exactly the same way! save your matches! give it a go!

Bornean Butterfly

2011-11-08T14:45:00.002+00:00

A beautiful Butterfly that I photographed outside Bario.

Truely inspiring video from Benedict Allen. Makes my hair stand on end!

2011-10-30T23:54:00.000+00:00

Borneo 2011 - short video about how it all went.

2011-10-10T03:42:00.000+01:00

Ba Tik Walk.

2011-09-12T08:34:00.001+01:00

80km walk in 6 days through the jungle. this is the morning of the third day after spending the night in the village of Ba Tik.

Videos of this trip to borneo....

2011-09-11T10:26:00.001+01:00

Expedition kit.

2011-05-03T09:58:00.005+01:00

This is the gear that i live and work with on an expedition, minus clothing, food and water.

mountain hardware lamina 0 (-18 limit) sleeping bag
120ltr flight bag
8 man group shelter
issue reversible bivi jacket
vaude taurus 1
25 ltr forces day pack
msr quick system 1
therma rest prolite regular
issue camelbak
winter jacket
msr whisperlite international
winter trousers
gloves/hat/microlite fleece
first aid kit
petzl myo xp
hennessy hammock explorer dulux asym with 30d hex tarp and garda hitch modification
soft shell
fuel bottle
120ltr berghaus vulcan (modified)
mora frost knife
msr exped maintainence kit/wind shield
snugpack jungle sleeping bag
gloves goretex
mosquito net
googles
mummy liner
snugpack response pack with survival kit
lowa mountain boots
drinksafe explorer bottles
wildcountry climbing harness
40mtr beal rope
lowa jungle boots
asortment of dmm carabiners with sling
5 dmm prowire quick draws
side pouches of my bergen/day pack
walking poles

This is fixed to my body at ALL times to ensure that if the worst should happen, I am prepared.

first aid kit
iodine
pace counter and gear karabiner
gps with waterproof case
emergency strobe
every day firesteel
id tags with blood group
cotton wool tinder
100ft para cord
signalling mirror
spare fire steel
inner tube
fishing kit x 2
spare clip and whistle
water proof matches
knife
waterproof note paper and first aid memoire
knife sharpener
chinagraph pencil
compass
candles
camel bak mouthpeice
spare torch
pencil
button compass
parachord (lil bit extra as a bracelet)
windproof/uv blocking buff
1600ltr filter
waterproof box
mess tin
lighter
dry sack
spare batteries
waterproof storage tin
Lancashire hot pot rat pak

Now its currently a little depleted as im back off to borneo again for six months in three weeks so it needs a top up. i.e more spare batteries etc.... snare wire blah blah blah.... this was just a quick show and tell.

Hope at least someone found that vaguely interesting.....

Crossing the Andes

2011-03-28T18:50:00.001+01:00

Believe it or not, the entire reason that this journey took place was due to a bet in a bar. An American called Sean asked me if I'd like to ride a horse with him from Cusco to Bolivia and someone told us that we would die trying. CHALLENGE!

About two weeks later we set off. Cowboy hats, horses, leather saddle bags and the open road of the second highest plain on earth. It is every man’s dream to be so carefree and on an adventure that will be remembered for years to come. Little did we know that the fairy tale would be soon over and that one and a half months of hardship lay ahead of us.

It actually took almost two days to fully get out of Cusco. It stretches far out into the valley, squished between mountains on all sides. The first night was spent in an abandoned house, something that would become quite regular on our trip. The rest of the time we stayed either in my tent or with whoever was kind enough to put us up for the night.

The temperature at night was generally well below freezing. Everything was encased in ice every morning, even to the point where sometimes the horses had ice on their manes. There were no trees and we had to rely on burning dried manure for warmth and my petrol burner to cook the food. I had come fully prepared for this sort of trip from the start whereas Sean often had to wear as many clothes as he physically could to keep out the elements and use the saddle blankets for extra warmth at night as he didn't have a roll mat.

The terrain varied quite regularly on our trip. We would find ourselves in amongst endless rice paddys for a few days, then nothing but mountains and then finally nothing, all the way to the horizon. We tried following the railway lines, power lines, rivers and sometimes roads; always heading south (ish)

We found the local people to have odd advice for us. Our general meetings would go a little something like this. We'd round a corner and there would be a local person gawking at us with their jaw on the floor. (Guess there weren't that many six foot white people on horses in the area.....) "where are you going?" they'd ask. We'd tell them and they'd smile and retort "You and your horses are going to die, would you like a drink?" So whilst hospitable they really were under the impression that what we were trying to do was impossible, yet the Spanish must have done something similar.... that thought always kept me going....

Riding into towns was an even more complex affair and usually involved being surrounded by the entire population who wanted to know everything about us and to help by giving us food for the horses. The further along we went, the less we were told that we were going to die, in fact once we’d passed the half way mark, it was barely mentioned. This definitely boosted our moral. We even had to change the horses shoes around a town called Siquani and people kindly enough offered to help us which was a huge bonus!

The main thing that struck me about this trip was how much people who had nothing were seemingly willing to give to strangers. They were more than happy to let us put the tent up on their land, show us the nearest abandoned house, invite us to stay at their house even! There was more to it than that though, they were genuinely pleased to help, in some cases sharing what little food they had, their cigarettes, getting alcohol and inviting us to drink with them! In return, we shared what we had as well, even helping to sheer a lama at one point!

Our food sources were often few and far between and overall I lost around 12kg on our trip. The main things that we could buy in towns were sweets, bread and tins of fish. I can’t stand fish and never eat it but obviously had to for sustenance! I still have nightmares about tinned tuna/sardines in tomato sauce! Occasionally we did come across the wondrous tinned peaches..... When we got hold of them it was like my birthday and Christmas all rolled into one. Opening the tin with a gigantic machete and slurping down the sugary mess whilst sharing out the dividends between the two of us was just magical.

We also found the Church quite helpful along the way. There was at least three separate occasions when we were allowed to sleep in spare rooms within the church/monastery. This was very different to what I had imagined our reception would be but I was very grateful. Its certainly the only times we really ate properly without the help of the locals.

As our journey progressed onwards, things got slower and slower. The mental strain of the task ahead as well as being ill, not having enough food/water and just being exhausted due to the altitude was really taking its toll. The combination of the extreme sun light and lack of oxygen had led to us progressing at a trudge. We were covering a maximum of 20km a day. At one point i actually passed out whilst riding and fell to the floor unconscious, Sean organised someone to drive me to the nearest doctor/medical station, where I was rehydrated, diagnosed with a flesh eating parasite, pumped full of anti-biotics and sent on my way. We stayed put for the next few days with the most amazing local family; so that I had a chance to gain some strength. We were less than 150km from the finish line and there was no way I was giving up now!

The final stage of the journey was down the valley towards Lake Titicaca. We had to pass through both Juliaca and Puno to get to the border. This almost proved to be the hardest part of the journey. Walking the horses through a bustling city, with no way round was very stressful for both them and us. It was also very difficult to find somewhere to keep them over night. We eventually made it to the other side of Juliaca and decided that enough was enough. Once we got past Puno there was no more major settlements and we wanted to make sure we had time to sell the horses. We found someone local who looked like they needed them and sold them to them at a massive discount so that they would be able to afford them. It was a shame that we didnt make it all the way but it was still an incredible journey.

Its by far one of the hardest things that ive ever done and something that I will always remember. This was one of the first really challenging that I had ever undertaken and by the skin of our teeth we had made it work. It taught me that the native people were everything. They were the knowledge, the hospitality, the comfort and the help. Without them, the trip would have been impossible and we would have had to turn back or died in the process. This has meant that on all my other trips I have strived to learn the local language and customs and have as much interaction as possible. Because of all of these experiences, I have come to the conclusion that the poorest people, are the ones who have the most to give and the are the most willing to share it!

This was painted by a local, whilst we slept in an abandoned house. It currently hangs in The Point Hostel Cusco.

Machu Picchu and Huayna Picchu - Race to the hidden gem! | Traveldudes.org

2011-03-22T07:53:00.000+00:00

Machu Picchu and Huayna Picchu - Race to the hidden gem! | Traveldudes.org

Another article of mine on traveldudes. Short and concise but if you are going to Machu Pichu then its def a must read!

Inspirational Videos

2011-03-14T20:43:00.007+00:00

I want to post a few videos that help me get out of bed in the morning. That help me remember that I need to push myself every day.

"Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved."

"It is impossible to fulfill oneself in comfort, one gets lost in it. One is overfed and becomes disabled – lack of difficulty means boredom. The harder the effort is, the better the reward."

‎"People who say it cannot be done should not interrupt those who are doing it."

"Dont wish things were easier, with you were harder."

Coffee that really matters...

2011-03-12T12:18:00.003+00:00

This top is quite close to my heart to be honest.

I volunteered for two different disaster relief agencies after the Sumatran earthquake of 2009, one American and one Indonesian NGO. Both groups eventually became like family and I thoroughly recommend doing something similar should you get the chance.

The Indonesian NGO is called the IBU foundation and one of its members decided to try something, that for Indonesia, is very radical. They opened up a Coffee shop and a Charity shop in Bandung; about an hours drive from Jakarta. Bandung is much nicer than Jakarta and well worth a visit anyway.... Nestled among a huge volcanic range and every house covered in gorgeous terracota tiles, even though its a major city, it looks like a small village in Italy.

The Coffee shop is unique. It has prices that cater for the volunteers working with the NGO and locals alike. The coffee is fair trade and sourced from every corner of Indonesia. Finally, their profits are shared among humanitarian organisations throughout Indonesia. If ever I have needed a reason for a morning cup of Joe.... thats got to be pretty high up on my list. So why not pop by, have a coffee, get to know some local people and maybe even try and volunteer? Who knows.... this coffee shop may be the start of something fantastic....

They have outdoor and indoor seating PLUS: FREEEEE WIFI!!! so go sit down, grab a cup of amazing coffee for $0.30 American and call home.

Check out their facebook page for address and prices (its in both Indonesian and English so dont be scared!)

Desert Island Distractions

2011-03-03T15:07:00.057+00:00

New Years 2011 on an uninhabited island...

How did this come about? Well: During the time spent volunteering, there was a lot of work done in collaboration with other organizations, one of them being an Indonesian NGO called the Ibu Foundation. Over the months we formed some fantastic friendships and they invited us to spend new years with them. A plan was set in motion to spend two days on a set of uninhabited islands off the southern coast of Pariaman.

Widhie was my closest friend from Ibu and he helped us organize transportation and logistics. The plan was fairly simple; hire some fisherman/boats to take us to the islands on new years eve and bring us back late in the day on new years day. Supplies required: beer, small amount of food and something to sleep on/in. We rushed around grabbing weird and wonderful varieties of cheap alcohol, ranging from beer to weird flavoured mixtures. Food was mostly snack food as other stuff was being brought wish us as well.

We all met at the IBU Pariaman headquarters and then set off down for the docks. It was nice to get away from the volunteer base for a change and have a bit of freedom, as well as spend some time with some local people. After a fair amount of faffing around, we set "sail" on our mighty voyage.

The sun was fast setting over the islands but they were only a few kilometers off shore. The journey was a little choppy but everyone was in a fantastic mood and very jovial. Within an hour and a half we were coming up to a tiny jetty that the fisherman had built to take shelter in rough weather. We grabbed supplies and jumped off. The rosy sky had all but vanished, leaving a fantastic silver like veneer to the clouds. The other islands were visible in the distance as well as a large portion of the Sumatran coast line. Ibu had a large tent to sleep in, we pithed up my small tent and my jungle hammock just inside the shelter of the trees.

A large bonfire was lit and we started our festivities. The view was spectacular and the company was even better. It was difficult to believe we were really there. The fisherman brought us some fish they'd just caught and we cooked them on sticks over the enormous fire. I'm not a fan of fish and rarely eat it but this tasted fantastic, I even used a knife to cut out its eyes and slurped them down; delicious! Everyone else seemed less keen to try this....

The later it got the more merry people became. As it neared midnight, we were a little spread out. Some people had stayed round the fire and others, like myself, had spread out into the ocean. It was the perfect temperature, lovely and warm. You could see all the lights down the coast of Pariaman and Padang from where we were sitting. The waves occasionally lifted us up and down on the spot and I allowed my beer to float around whilst i relaxed. When the fire works started we were able to see every single display down the coast. This magical moment lasted about 15 minutes and was a great way to bring in the new year. Exhausted, I head off to my hammock for an amazing nights sleep, the sounds of the waves the only noise for miles.

In the morning, people woke up in a staggered fashion. Having no schedule, this was not a problem. Some of us had yogurts for breakfast and others had more fish. We relaxed and took in the sights and sounds of an island on the first day of the year. The sun was bright but not too hot and the sky was cloudless. We decided to play around for a bit on the beach, climbing logs and swimming around a bit, before we headed on to our next destination.

Widhie pointed to an island in the distance and told us that we were going to get on the boats again and head over there for the day. Three of us decided that this would be a fantastic trip to make in a dug out canoe. I will admit it did get towed across but it was still a great experience. Three blokes in a tiny canoe with a couple of beers, every wave nearly capsizing us.

It took about 40 mins but we arrived at another incredible island. Not another person in sight. There was no jetty at this island so a few front flips were performed and a swim was required. The sand rose up at a very steep angle to form the island, it was almost as if it had been dropped there. The water was as clear as I had ever seen it and there were fish everywhere. There was even a decent sized reef on the back of the island where i saw a turtle!

The day was spent between two groups of emotions, utter awe and extreme excitement opposed with a serene sense of calm and solace brought on by the sheer beauty of the place we were sitting. A fantastic quote from the book "The Beach" sprung to mind:

"The only downer is, everyone's got the same idea. We all travel thousands of miles just to watch TV and check in to somewhere with all the comforts of home, and you gotta ask yourself, what is the point of that? I just feel like everyone tries to do something different, but you always wind up doing the same damn thing."

This was definitely not just the same thing. We had traveled to the other side of the planet, to help people we'd never met before and our reward was a well earned break on an uninhabited island. Jackpot.

Alternative Inca Trail - A "road" to Machu Pichu

2011-02-27T19:23:00.025+00:00

So i'd decided to walk to Machu Pichu....

The map I had was simple to say the least, it looked like it had been drawn by a child. The verbal directions were a little easier to follow. How hard could it be.... I was going to walk from Ollantaytampo to Machu Pichu; you can see the Inca Trail in red below.

I arrived in Ollantaytambo, grabbed a drink from a cafe and then asked for directions to the rail way line. Obviously, not really thinking about it, everyone directed me to the station. Lots of guards and big fences told me that this was probably not the best place to start the journey. I walked about 2km outside of town along a dusty road and found myself conveniently near the railway lines, this time with no fence! woo!

I started following the rail way lines, which was a bit awkward to say the least, I kept tripping over the sleepers for starters and the gravel was pretty hard going as well. I trudged along for a few hours in some of the most breath taking scenery that Peru had to offer in this area, the best thing of all was there wasn’t a tourist in sight. In fact there was hardly anyone in sight at all! The odd farmer or the odd water buffalo ambling along in the distance and rice paddys in every direction. The blissful silence was idyllic, I drifted off into an almost trance like state whilst listening to the sound of my walking poles clink on the rails. Just as I’d got a nice rhythm going there was a god awful noise. It pierced my soul it was so loud and I dived off the track into a ditch behind some bushes with barely centimetres to spare as the train shot past me. My heart was racing like crazy. That reminded me that what I was doing wasn’t particularly high on the health and safety list and I concentrated for the rest of the trip, ESPECIALLY on blind bends.

The sun was fierce due to the altitude and I regularly had to stop and reapply sun cream to diffuse some of the lobster colour. I had food with me for the journey but when I came across a town I decided to pop into a shop (they always have a plastic bag on a gigantic stick so people know where they are) and see what they had. I stuffed myself with bread and Inca Cola (Iron Bru equivalent) and chatted to the somewhat surprised locals. We exchanged some words in Quechua and English which made everyone laugh due to poor pronunciation by both parties (you try and pronounce Imaynalla kashanki?/How are you?) After a good laugh I set off again as it was mid-afternoon and I wanted to try and get as far as possible.

Tasty rucksack burn!

As it started to draw towards dusk, I decided to look for somewhere to pitch my tent. The only flat ground seemed to be near the train track which would have been stupid so I kept on looking. Every time I saw somewhere that might have been just passable, I would go on looking for something better but remember where the last place was just in case. This happened for about an hour or so until I started to get a little worried.

I saw a man and a woman in a field so called out to them. The man came over and once again looked surprised to see a westerner in the middle of nowhere. He asked what I was doing and where I was going etc. I told him I needed somewhere to put my tent up and could he suggest somewhere. He said he'd ask his wife if she knew anywhere and went to talk to her. Then they came back with a suggestion that surprised me. "Why don't you come and stay with us?" I was a little taken aback by this offer but also tired and wary of the time so agreed.

They told me I could sleep outside but underneath a roof which sat between the door buildings. I dumped all my stuff down and they beckoned me inside. Dinner was served and consisted of my two least favourite foods on the planet, sweet corn and fish. Not wanting to be rude I ate it all as fast as possible, desperately trying to hide the taste with more Inca Cola! Seconds were offered but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. After a few hours of entertainment I decided to hit the hay. I collapsed onto my roll mat and fell promptly asleep.

I woke up early morning to the sound of people stirring in the house and realised to my great surprise that I was covered in Guinea Pigs (a South American delicacy) I was obviously somewhat warmer than the ground. I really do wish I could have freed my hands to take a photo but the second I sat up they all ran for cover squeaking.

I offered a bit of money to my hosts but they wouldn’t accept it, so we agreed on me giving them some luxury food instead; tinned peaches!!! I slyly slipped some money under the tin as I stood it on the table and said my thanks.

The second day was a little more exciting if that is possible. Not only did I come running out of a tunnel screaming my head off as a train gained on me with the driver frantically waving for me to get out the way but I also arrived at Piscacucho, the start of the famous Inca Trail.

This travel blog photo's source is TravelPod page: Dream accomplished

There was a fence... a BIG fence... from the top of the valley, to the bottom and up the other side. There were also lots of guards at the train station itself. I did a little visual reconnaissance and thought I saw a possible route further up to the right of the town. I caught a child watching me, he came up to me and demanded chocolate in exchange for showing me where there was a hole in the fence. Peru never ceased to amaze me by this point so I parted with valuable resources and accepted the help of “Le Resistance”. We walked a fair bit up the valley and came across a ravine that ran alongside the fence. It was probably 8 meters deep but he climbed down into it and I followed on after. The other side was shockingly steep and he told me to take my bag off. He boosted me onto a ledge, handed me my bag and told me to climb up and out where id find a gap. True to his word, at the top, I was free.

I start to hurry the pace as it was getting late again. I crossed some very precarious wild west style train bridges whilst trying not to look down and having to leap between the supports and then was once again back in dense jungle. It got dark very quickly and my mind started to play tricks on me. Fire flies kept appearing across the path ahead of me. This looks exactly like someone carrying a torch. For good reason I’d shoot off into the undergrowth like a rocket and this eventually led to me dropping and breaking my only source of light. I now always carry two....

I passed a false finish in a hydro electric dam complex which was more heavily guarded than the whole rest of the route but easy enough to bypass. After several hours of walking in pitch black, more or less feeling my way by keeping one foot on the rail, I heard music. I kept on walking for a bit longer and the music became steadily louder. I was suddenly mobbed by a gang of dogs which was terrifying in the dark! I fought them off with my walking poles and the owner came to my rescue. He apologised and assured me that Aguas Calientes was only a km down the road. I walked as fast as I could given the conditions and finally arrived, collapsed on a large flat rock outside the train station and went to sleep.

Although it had been a much harder way of getting there, I was helped by the local people and gained a unique insight into their way of life, their traditional culture and their language. They didn't seem to mind that I was cheating the system by not paying guide fees and trail passes. They were just happy someone had taken the time to pop by. I was happy to have met them.

Crossing the Andes

2011-02-24T15:09:00.059+00:00

This was painted by a local, whilst we slept in an abandoned house. It currently hangs in The Point Hostel Cusco.

Sumatran Disaster

2011-02-23T17:48:00.038+00:00

After whats just happened in New Zealand i thought id write about my volunteering experience and encourage other people to do the same.

On the 30th of September 2009, there was an earthquake that measured 7.6 to the North West of Padang. The effect devastated local communities with everything from government buildings through to small houses getting ripped apart.

Photo copywrite: Netaholic13

I volunteered with Hands On Disaster Response who have since been renamed All Hands Volunteers. They are a fantastic organization that really promote the truest ideal of volunteering. They are currently working in Haiti and have been there since the major earthquake last year. They offer free food and accommodation to all volunteers and also several internship opportunities to those wishing to pursue disaster relief as a long term career.

Accommodation was basic and food was always red, white or orange, but you cant really complain when its free!

The devastation was something that is going to haunt me for the rest of my life. We went past houses that were totally flattened and some that were just merely damaged. I was overcome with emotion at the plight of these people, yet they were still smiling... waving... and retorting the usual "HELLO MR!!!!!"

Work was hard, every day getting up early and straight onto a truck loaded with tools and other volunteers. The heat was fairly extreme at times but it was the humidity that really brought it home. You could hang something up to dry and unless it was in direct sunlight, it would contain more moisture than when you hung it up!

My first job was to clear rubble off a houses foundations so that they had a flat surface on which to rebuild. The family were in good spirits all things considered and provided us with tea, coffee and cake! yum! This first house was not particularly big but the mortar was solid and was difficult to break up. The idea being that you break the mortar away from the bricks in order to salvage and recycle as much of the original materials as possible! Some of the people erected tents inside their houses, despite the fact that whispering would have probably made the entire structure collapse, they clearly had nowhere else to go.

The local people were incredibly happy for us to be there and be helping them out with something that they didn’t have the money to accomplish. We were saving on average about 20-25% of the brickwork from a house and then also the majority of the tin and wooden structure from the roof. if you look at that in terms of a house in the uk that costs 400,000 pounds, that’s 100,000 we are saving them on the cost of rebuilding their homes. In terms of Rupiah, we were saving them a few years’ wages.

During my time with HODR, my role as a volunteer progressed and my responsibilities expanded. I led various teams on clearing sites and also got involved with deconstruction teams, constructing temporary shelters, I became the tool re-handler and I also got to go and work in an IDP (Internally Displaced Persons) camp which is basically a refugee camp in one’s own country.

This was by far one of the most rewarding experiences of the trip. We lived in the IDP camp during our stay there and helped construct a guttering and water collection system to ensure that people were provided with clean water. I also got down and dirty and helped plough, make a machete and got involved with some of the traditional cooking. The people were so friendly towards us and helped us as much as they could. Their hospitality knew no bounds and amounted to more than I could ever express in gratitude. This particular IDP camp consisted entirely of Minang people and is where I learnt the majority of my Minang vocabulary. They were very helpful in learning new words and it seemed to bring great joy to them to hear you use their own language.

We finished the water collection system with a minimum amount of problems, although every project has its hiccups. I was at one point pushed aside by a man claiming to be in his 90's and more adept at sawing then I was! He proved very quickly that this was indeed the case.

The work part of the trip aside, I really enjoyed the atmosphere. New volunteers would come and go as the months went by and I met a lot of fantastic people that I will hopefully stay in touch with for years to come. The amount of interaction with the locals was fantastic. I regularly used to go and play dominoes with the people who lived next door and developed a taste for Gado-Gado (peanut sauce with noodles) I also learned Indonesia to a standard where a conversation was possible! What a bonus!

Overall HODR taught me a lot of things about volunteering that I hadn't really thought about before. This was and still is a totally non-biased organization. They accept anyone from any background and put you to work. Yet they also encourage you to grow as a volunteer. If you think something sounds interesting but you don't know how to do it, someone will show you! When you first arrive, you may have never held a tool in your life, by the end of your stint, you will be adept at plastering, chiseling, shoveling, fixing, labouring, constructing, building, demolishing and you will also be a better person!

This video really sums up how fantastic the project was and what an experience it was for me:

Like I said at the start, this company is currently out in Haiti along with a few others I'd recommend, like Grass Routes United. So if you are on your gap year, out of work or generally just bored, why not go do something that will stick with you for the rest of your life....

Thailand - A spiritual journey

2011-02-17T12:56:00.026+00:00

Thailand is supposedly the land of smiles. I found this to be true in some respects but it was clear that their culture had literally been raped by the influx of western tourists. After spending some time there and cutting through the standard tourist garbage, I managed to find the old Thailand. A Thailand that few western people bother to go and see.

I had always been fascinated by monks that had tattoos. In the western world this would be a complete oxymoron, but to the monks of Thailand it is something that is highly prestigious. I set off to the famed Wat Bang Phra to find out more about the process behind the tattoos and the meanings associated with them.

After managing to find Wat Bang Phra, written in Thai on the Internet, and getting someone Thai to write it down for me, I set off on a mayhem of public transport. The temple is located about an hour or so from central Bangkok and was not THAT difficult to find, my tiny scrawled bit of paper seemed to do the trick! The final bit of my journey was by tuk-tuk. The temple was not really as I had imagined. It was very open and modern looking but also had an air of antiquity. I assumed that it had just been very well looked after.

Almost the first thing I ran into was a monk sharpening his tattooing stick, so i knew I was in the right place.

As my Thai is fairly shocking, it was difficult for me to ask him where to go or what to do.... So i walked around a bit more and tried to find a Monk that spoke a little English. Eventually I found what I was looking for. I was greeted with an enormous smile and beckoned inside a large room, filled with statues.

In my broken Thai and the monks broken English, we had a brief conversation about why I was at the temple and what I wanted to get out of it. I said that I was interested in the tattoos and their meanings and hoping to get one myself. He then asked some interesting and personal questions about me, I really felt like i was being scrutinized, almost like an interview. Eventually he said that I should get a tattoo that protects travelers. This for me was a thrilling response and he showed me an image of it:

It is a Buddhist compass called Paed Tidt. The three tiered oval shapes represent a seated Buddha and there is one for each cardinal point. This means I gain protection from Buddha in which ever direction I travel.

I was overjoyed as this was exactly what I wanted and the fact that he could tell that from my persona made it even more special. Preparations were made and we began. Firstly I had to present an offering to the monk, some flowers, a packet of cigarettes and a fiscal donation were hastily got for me by a lay person and then I made the offering. Some time was needed for reflection and the monk to prepare the implements.

He sharpened up his tools and we began. The pain was immense. For some reason I found this even more painful than that of the tattooing sticks in Borneo. Maybe its because it was a double pointed and fairly large stick, or maybe it was because it was right on my spine, but I was certainly aware of how much it hurt.

Unusually, there was no outline done, no markings of any kind, he just went straight on with it. It became obvious later on that he knew every single tattoo off by heart and didn't need any templates for any of them. You can see the various stages below.

In the video, right at the end you can actually hear him sharpening mid tattoo.

As soon as he had finished (the pain stopped which was nice haha) he flicked oil onto the tattoo, said a prayer and then exhaled onto my back. This is supposed to install the magic of the tattoo under your skin so that it remains with you forever. As he did this i felt an odd tingling sensation around and on the tattoo and felt very relaxed.

He then insisted that he got a monk higher up in the order to come and bless me again. The process was similar, more oil, a prayer and then exhalation into the open skin. Again I felt a calming effect and knew that I had received something special.

I then helped someone else get theirs done, by having two people stretch the skin out, it makes the tattoo clearer and also helps the monk to sit more comfortably. I ended up staying for a third person as well. It fascinated me the lengths these people would go to in terms of having mantras tattooed on their body. Some of them were totally covered. They both got several done at once as opposed to just the one. They asked me if I wanted another one and I thought about it for a while, but then decided that the one I had was special enough for the time being. Below you can see the devotees back and also (if anyone needed clarification) the monks chest:

I eventually decided it was time to be on my way. I thanked the monk from the bottom of my heart and went to leave. He stopped me mid stride and handed me the tattooing implement. I thought it was another ceremonial act, bowed to it and then handed it back. He turned me round, opened up my bag and slid it inside and then winked at me. I felt extremely privileged as, from seeing the others getting theirs done, this was not customary. He then led me out and into a room where the mummified remains of the famous Luang Por Phern rest. He is the person that made religious tattoos so famous in Thailand. I was encouraged to say a little prayer and then was walked to the nearest bus stop.

This again had been a journey that had taught me not only about a different method of tattooing, it had also taught me about other things too. I had learnt more about myself, but had also gained a unique inside into a world that is (once again) a far cry from anything we have in the west. I finally felt attached to Thailand, the real Thailand.

People of Papua

2011-02-16T18:09:00.001+00:00

Papua New Guinea is another mystical place that has been on my dream list for a very long time. However, as I was in Indonesia already and there were flights more readily available, I decided to go for West Papua instead. Two countries, one island, much like Borneo, separated for political gain but united in culture.

Even through the plane window, as you head into Jayapura, you can tell that this is an incredible place. Surrounded by the most incredible mountains, Jayapura really is a mash of cultures in a mystical back drop.

I met with a local guide called John who was very informative. We had a long chat about the resistance movement in Papua and how i could meet up with some of the ring leaders once I had gotten further into the interior. For the time being I had to sort out finance and permits to visit the interior. Money was a bit of a problem as my card didnt work at a single ATM and my mother kindly sent me a loan via Western Union.... to Papua New Guinea... which I was not in....

Money was eventually sorted and I started the rather laborious process of applying for my interior permit. I had to get passport photos done, then photo copies of tickets, itineraries, my passport and list the name of every place I intended to go to. Without a map that last bit proved quite difficult so I relied on my guide to list off random villages that he thought were of note. I got everything sorted and went down to the police station. I was told by John that I needed to sweeten the deal as that's how everything worked in Papua. So whilst my paperwork was being processed I practiced the classic and age old art of shaking hands and transferring clandestine tips. I convinced myself I was ready for the challenge, the policeman came out of his office to ask me some more questions about my trip, I reached out, shook his hand and the money floated gently to the floor like a feather. He merely looked at it and said, you dropped some money, turned around and walked off. I hastily picked it up and looked over at John who looked like he'd just swallowed his own tongue in fright; he shrugged, I stowed the money in my pocket ready for round two.

Some time later the policeman came back and made me sign something else and then gave me all my paperwork back and told me I was free to go. I didn't see another opportunity to "say thank you" so left as quickly as possible. Maybe he just wasn't the bribing type (odd as every other man and his monkey after that wanted money for even the slightest thing!)

I read through my visa and noticed that even though we'd listed all these amazingly complicated place names off that the clerk had just written the name of the district they were all in. Had we thought of that earlier it would have saved a lot of head scratching. I set off to get my ticket for Wamena and then went to bed early as I could.

In the morning I checked in at the airport. I had one giant rucksack and a smaller one. Other passengers had spears, pigs and bags the size of a Mini Cooper yet no excess of handling fees were even mentioned. The flight was in the twin engined plain shown below and was once a day. The sheer expanse of jungle between Jayapura and Wamena is unimaginable. 300km of the most unexplored jungle and mountains in the world. The scenery took my breath away even from the plane window.

I finally landed and unloaded my gear.

I got in touch with the head guide for the area. His name was Issac and he was a VERY strict Christian who also ran an orphanage. He took me to the police station get all my paper work sorted and then invited me back to his orphanage for some food and to stay the night. This was the first time I encountered sweet potato in Papua. It is virtually the only thing that some of them EVER eat. For dinner I was handed an enormous plate of sweet potato and told to tuck in! I LOVE sweet potato, but by the end of my time in Papua I was sick of the sight of it.

I spent the night in an gigantic bed with the orphans. They ranged from about 12 - 20 years old and were all found on the street.

We sat down that day and planned, did some shopping for provisions on set off for the mountain tribes. I found the climate quite different to the jungle tribal areas that are often shown on television. Everything was very dry, the sun was beating down ferociously and the going was slow due to the altitude. As Baliem valley has only be open to the outside world for a few decades, it still retains a vast amount of traditional Papuan culture. Penis gourds, local languages, and stone age technology were all rife. The valleys were littered with small settlements, hamlets of wooden, round huts.

After a day or so, we came across the first large village and asked if we could stay with them. I ended up sleeping on the floor of one of the main families houses. Darius (my guide) slept with the other Dani tribe members in small room in the back. This room was lined with lots of straw and had a fire pit in the middle. This was great, although this house had a much more modern construction due to the new found wealth of the family, they still preferred to sleep in their original way.

The host was great! A nice pair of boar tusks were shown off via a massive hole in his septum.

We sat round having a conversation about Christianity and how they felt about it. Everybody was quick to state that they were overwhelmed with joy at being saved from the fires of hell and how it had bettered their lives etc. However, when I asked what the first missionary was like, there was an unusual silence.... everyone looked everywhere else but directly at me.... then someone at the back went: "tasted nice" and they all fell about laughing. Apparently they cut him up into six pieces and spread them out amongst the villages in the valley. They then went on to tell me that the chief of the next village originally had six wives but decided to eat one during a particularly poor harvest.

In the morning I was glad to leave. Fun as the night had been, discussing various ways of eating each other, I was eager to get further away from the airport and find people who had had less contact with the outside world. The next village we hit was far more traditional and nestled neatly on the steep side of the valley. The view was breath taking.

The houses were round, with the multi purpose rooms and main kitchens being rectangular. The men all lived in one house, with they wives and children occupying a house each.

The insides of the houses had two floors, believe it or not. The womens houses were also split into 1/3 pig sty and 2/3 ground floor living space.

This village had a lot more traditionally dressed people.

The doors of the houses were so damn small that i felt like I was living with pygmies, it was virtually impossible for me to get in an out in a dignified manner. I had my standard portion of sweet potato that night and we sat around the fire discussing hunting methods, hunting tools, fire making methods (see video at the bottom), their language, culture, their lives in general and after having inhaled my life times limit of smoke from the fire we all fell asleep. I slept like a baby, even though it was cold outside the house was like an oven.

As I completed my time in Western Papua, we had time to loop back and visit a village that was very famous in the local area. They had mummified their chief some 150 years ago and still had him intact. In order to see the chief, we had to have a ceremony and get all dressed up which was awkward to say the least.....

It was an eerie site as they bought a crouched mummy out and stood him on a stool. The man holding him was in the exact same position, wearing the same clothing..... Was almost as if it was the same man....

That was my trip over and done with. It hadnt been anything like id imagined. Visiting the hill tribes as opposed to the jungle people had given me a totally different and very unique perspective into their culture. This was the second place in as many months that I had stayed where cannibalism and head hunting had been, and in some cases still was, an integral part of their culture. Now that I understood their belief systems and reasons behind such an unusual activity, it made a lot more sense and I was more comfortable with it. The Papuans were so stone age with their technologies that I really felt as if i had gained an insight that most British archaeologists would die for. Right down to the continuing use of stone axes, which stopped in Britain thousands of years ago.

Borneo - a Bejalai

2011-02-15T19:01:00.002+00:00

Going to Borneo was a childhood dream, an adventure that had finally come to fruition. One of the main reasons for my going there was to experience a culture that was so different to that of the western world in which I grew up. A culture that included tattooing, head hunting and an intricate knowledge of their surroundings.

After leaving Kuching, Sarawak, we found ourselves in Pontianak waiting for a bus to the Bornean interior and Putussibau. This is virtually the "capital" of an area they call "the heart of Borneo" so we knew it was going to be an experience from the start.

The bus journey took 18 hours and was on some of the bumpiest roads I'd ever been on, my head literally hit the roof on several occasions. We arrived and headed off to the forestry department to get some more info. We managed to hook up with an organization called Kompak, a locally run organisation that puts travelers and local guides together. They advised us of where the best places to go tattoo hunting were and the best places to try and make contact with different ethnic groups. Whilst we were sorting out plans, the head honcho aka "Hermas" asked if we wanted to stay in his long house, we couldnt believe our luck. In fact we ended up using it as a base (his choice not ours!) for the rest of our travels and stayed their on and off for a month! The level of hospitality was incredible, i have made a life long friend in Hermas and am going back to see him later this year.

We found a family group of Iban that still knew how to tattoo in a long house called Sadap, which is in a national park that borders Sarawak. We did a little recon trip there just to check everything out, meet and greet, sort out somewhere to stay etc. Then we returned about 10 days later to start one of the most unique tattooing processes on the planet.

On our first night we had dinner with our host family and went to visit the man who did all the tattoos for the tribe.

The following is an extract from my diary:

"Whilst talking to the tattoo master of Sadap in the Kapuas Ulu district, unfortunately he was blind but he still recounted the original system of tattooing and the significance of each design. This man was tattooed with original designs from head to toe, whilst ironically having a plane, rosary and a naked woman tattooed on his chest. When asked how he had come to have such modern designs along side his traditionally covered body several comments arose that made me smile.

The reason for having a plane was as follows; someone else in the village had paddled up into Malaysian Borneo and had managed to catch a lift back into Kalimantan with a missionary. This journey had taken weeks and he was very grateful to have been brought back so swiftly and in such style, having never seen a plane before, so he asked the tattoo master if he could tattoo a sketch of a plane on his chest. The tattoo master did as he asked but found himself jealous, so he set about on a quest to find a plane. He paddled for weeks up through Sarawak until he found an airfield, he looked at the machines with awe, yet was denied a lift back. After deciding there was nothing he could do, he paddled all the way back to Sadap, where he decided that seeing a plane was enough and had a similar design tattooed on his chest.

Now this may be seen as a horror story for those that like tradition to be kept pure, however, the Iban tattoo is a part of their Bejalai, which is similar to the aboriginal concept of Walkabout. Therefore, a plane had been part of their lives, it may not have been a traditional symbol or following the normal structure, but the whole point of a Bajalai is to gain knowledge through experience. This for me is what tattooing is all about, a map of one’s life, a successful joining of both the old and the new ways in something that could be appreciated by all that came across him."

The following photos show the mans tattoos:

We also learned that all Iban men are required to go on a bejalai when they come of age. This is equivalent of the Australian aborigines walkabout. The Iban men must leave their homes and go in search of wealth, knowledge and wisdom for a period of up to one and a half years. During this time they were tattooed by different villages as a map of what they had accomplished. The majority of tattoos bestow protection on the bearer in various different forms and also, due to variances in designs, show the regions and peoples that he has visited.

The tattoo master told me that the order of tattooing for his village was quite precise. They have 5 distinct levels that went as follows:

1. Throat

2. Shoulders (front)

3. Back

4. Lower Body

5. Ribs

Each tattoo represented an animal or sacred spirit in Bornean mythology and or a piece of protection. For example, the tattoos on the mans ribs represent an elephant and the elephants tusks, which protect him from both sides. The tattoo on the back of his neck prevents another tribe taking his head off.

After some discussion they agreed to tattoo me and my traveling partner Sean. We had to follow the specific order but I declined to have one on my throat. This led to further discussion and he agreed that I could have my shoulders done with the Bunga Terong, what some of you may know as the Bornean Rose. I was overjoyed and felt really privileged to be given such an opportunity. It was clearly a big decision for him but one that he felt happy to do. That night we had a few drinks of the local palm beer, Tuak (approx. 5-8%)

I awoke with the sun, after spending the night in the forestry departments hut, finding the man preparing the ink outside with a candle and a bowl.

These photos show the collection of soot, the binding of the needles and the creation of the ink:

There were two sets of tools in use, the outliner had 4 needles and the filler had 7 needles, much like with modern tattoo guns. At some points i was being tattooed with both at the same time to speed the filling up.

We then began with my outline, centre design, filler, second one and a bit of self tattooing by myself:

The whole process took 9 hours in total and was excruciatingly painful. I was told that complaining was unacceptable as I was being honored and had to be brave. I meditated and stared at a spot on the roof whilst the constant tap tap tap went on and on. The pain shooting down my arm in one direction and into my head the other. The force of the needle hitting my collar bone eventually caused my fingers to start twitching independently and regular breaks were needed to ensure both my body and the of the artist could withstand the constant effort required.

The two people who worked on my tattoos were apprentices as the original master had gone blind. This led to mistakes in places and overall, my tattoos being rather unusual. They aren't very symmetrical, they aren't filled very well and they took longer than they should have. At first I was a little disappointed, but then realized that what I had was better than any perfect tattoo. I was part of a revival. I was part of something that had gone on for centuries, almost been lost and was now coming back. The fact that it isn't perfect means that for me they are the most valuable tattoos i have. I hope that now they have learnt a bit more that they will continue this tradition through generations to come.

Finally, what do they really mean? I have read many things on the Internet about the Bunga Terong and its significances. Some are right, some are totally wrong and some are almost there.... The thing is, this design has been copied, changed, edited, artistically adapted and each tribe does it differently. The first tribe to do this design, called it the "eye of the dog" This tribe calls it the "egg plant tattoo" I have chatted to various tattoo anthropologists, experts and artists alike and no matter what they call it, the meaning is always quite similar.

For the Iban of Sadap, the Bunga Terong represents a cross section of the Egg plant. A plant that is commonly seen all over Borneo in the right season. The spiral in the middle is called "Tali Nyawa" which loosely translates as the rope of life. (If you take a tadpole from Borneo and turn it upside down, it has this pattern on its stomach) It also represents protection from harm, from both directions as its on both shoulders. Finally, it represents the start of a mans Bajalai, his walkabout and his progression to adulthood. For me it represents all of those things and so much more....