Today I am tired:
Tired of having to prepare work for next week, when once again my office phone line will be 'hot' with schools demanding the level of support they have become accustomed to with the Numeracy Team;
I am also tired because my sleep was SEVERELY INTERRUPTED last night - It was big, hairy and violated me in my bed!
I am of course not referring to my delightful and charismatic husband, but the huge, gigantic spider that somehow managed to squeeze itself into our tiny-by-comparison house and take over. I saw Christian move at a speed that would cause whiplash to any other mere mortal, as the spider ran across his leg casting a dark shadow across the room. After spending most of the night in a futile attempt to cage the beast, I had to resign myself to cohabiting or remove my weary body to a less comfortable sofa for the remainder of the night. Needless to say my sleep was not restful and my work has suffered today as a result. My passport-sized photograph I had taken for my International Drivers Licence will forever be a testament, I have a bag for each leg under each eye.
I know what you are all thinking - how the hell will she cope around the world with bigger and more deadly creatures waiting to pounce! Easy - I shall take valium!
(I was even contemplating setting up the mossy net last night.)
I am and admit to being a 'wimp' when it comes to creatures that I do not wish to share my personal space with. Though thanks to Aaron I have a new found respect for wasps. Rather than flapping my arms about sending semaphonic messages of retreat, he alerted me to the fact that if I sat and watched them they are fascinating. - I intently stared as one began to saw of a small portion of Aaron's bacon to transport back to his starving wife and children. It reminded me of Aarons concluding paragraph in one of his Chester College assignments on snails and 'love darts' (I kid you not) "The common garden snail is not as boring and mundane as some people may think." It's nuggets of information like that one that has earned Aaron his title of Dr. O'Dea (pronounced O'Day/O'Dee, depending on his mood!)
Wednesday 28th August, Christian Writes:
15:47pm - I was just googling, and I noticed that a search for "go strettons" will now find this site. Not sure if this is a good thing or not. A search for "Donna Stretton" yields the Chester College Alumni magazine. Very funny - about 3/4 of the way down. My novel is still under negotiation, thanks for asking.
12:00pm - I too have finished my reading matter of the moment, and am now at the pleasant stage of perusing my bookshelves, and deciding what next to read.
We had an extended extended weekend, as we booked the Tuesday off work at the last minute in order to better entertain our guests: Aaron and Sophie. Both of whom are mad as cheese.
The Weekend was great fun. Saw an Abba tribute band at the Matthew Street festival, and got drunk.
Forgive my less-than-sparkling writing style today. My excuses are that I am back in work, am suffering toothache, and the dog ate my homework. I shall try harder in the future. In the meantime, have a look at some pretty pictures.
Oh and our India Visas arrived today. Yay!
Friday 23rd August 2002. Donna Writes:
The one world tickets are all booked and paid for, it's official. We're off.
I?ve begun the arduous task of packing up the home ready for leaving at the end of September. During the process I found lots of letters and cards Christian and I had sent to each during the course of our relationship. It's incredible that the intensity of our feelings hasn?t dwindled at all over the last 11 ½ years. The words we wrote then are even more poignant and true today having got married last year; even within the first months we were pledging a life-long love affair that has blossomed over the subsequent passage of time.
I also found the beginning of the photo album and journal we did having travelled round Europe together in 1995. We've found ourselves returning to our previous travelling experiences a lot over the last few weeks and even though there were times when we (mainly me) were tired and fed up and wanted to come home, those are long forgotten and the really positive experiences take over. I can be a bit rubbish when tired and alienated. Christian gets it in the neck, but I know that whatever happens we will always be there for each other.
I've now finished reading Backpack, it was an OK read, not particuularly taxing and I got a little bored when they weren't describing the places they were visiting. Not sure what to read next, any suggestions? (Not you Uncle Simon; aka Uncle Fredrico from Spain) Talking of Spain; Shirl and Mike rang today and are having a ball. Can't wait to see them again on Monday. The Honeymooners are back and have checked out the site and like it - hurrah! Come Monday and we will all be reunited to enjoy the lovely Matthew Street Festival.
Wednesday 21st August, Christian writes:
As a complete digression from this traveblog, I have been recently surprised to learn that I know nothing about films. I always like to think of myself as a bit of a film buff. I must have seen thousands of the bloody things. However, upon reading Sight And Sound's top 10s, I realise that I have seen the wrong ones. My top 10 would be something like.
The Bicycle thieves De Sica
Star Wars: A New Hope Lucas
A Bout de soufflé Godard
Pulp Fiction Tarantino
Delicatessen Jeunet
Chung King Express Wong
Annie Hall Allen
Double life of Veronique Kieslowski
It?s a wonderful life Capra
Taxi Driver Scorsese
No Hitchcock? Lynch? Kubrick? Coppola? Welles? Kurosawa? Cassavettes? I know. But it's really hard narrowing it down to 10, it doesn't make me a bad person.
Anyway, what would your top 10 films be? I have no doubt they will all be different: I am always keen to learn.
Tuesday 20th August, Christian writes:
Yes, I know I've been a long time reading Botton's book. But in my defence, I've been busy lately, and I've also been reading Coupland's Miss Wyoming.
More and more 30 somethings are taking career gaps to travel the world. It's official: The Guardian says so.
Monday 19th August, Christian writes:
Firstly: Congratulations and thanks to the entire Australian continent for their efficient and simple Electronic Visa system. Completed entirely online within 5 minutes, we are now free to stand on their soil without fear of deportment.
A sharp reprimand and an "I'm so disappointed in you" look to the entire Indian Nation. Their Visa application is difficult to find (no links from FCO or Lonely Planet as far as I could see), complicated and expensive. I had to phone an embassy in London who then told me the URL to print off the form. She advised against posting our Visa application as it would quite probably fall down the back of a radiator in her office or some-such. So, we shall have to pay Trailfinders to sort it out for us. Bah.
Secondly: We had a very pleasant barbecue at the Stretton Senior residence yesterday despite a vengeful God's best efforts to prevent it with floods of rain. We?d printed off some business cards with the URL of this site, but it turns out that all Aunts and Uncles already knew about it. Many thanks to Uncle Simon for the suggestions. I shall further investigate his recommended reading.
Also, we bought a camcorder at the weekend, so that will be accompanying us on our trip upon recommendation from OJ.
Oh, and do check out Aaron's blog. Remember? He's our best man, and the fella who's moving out to Panama? Oh, do keep up.
Friday 16th August, Donna writes:
The PFOT was a great success, we cemented important friendships and met a few interesting fellows along the way. Notably a pyromaniac from London, who insisted on showing us his fire breathing skills. This was most impressive, though I was a little disconcerted by the close proximity of our living quarters (we were camping at the time). The site called Surfers Paradise in Croyd reminded me of our halcyon days of Reading and Glastonbury.
On returning to our humble abode I panicked when I saw that out neighbours house sale had fallen through: was ours next? All our travelling plans momentarily flashed before my eyes and slipped away. However, having spoken to the Estate Agents and Solicitors I am calm once again.
Liverpool welcomed us back with the additional bonus of the lovely Mark and Nicky from Oxford. They were on our PFOT itinerary but plans were scuppered when they double bluffed us and came up North. It's always a pleasure to spend time in their company and even better back on our old stomping ground. We were dismayed to find that the old drinking haunts were all quickly being transformed to places with banging tunes and expensive tiny drinks. We sort refuse (sought refuge? - ed.) in the old mans pubs that never close until the last punter exits the building. Ah, lovely Liverpool.
Thursday 15th August, Christian writes:
Now safely home, and fresh from the luxury of our own bed, we have returned from our peregrination of the nation. The campsite we found by chance in the Peak District. It looked immaculate: the lawns putting-green-clipped and the facilities clean and ordered. But make no mistake: noise and ball games were not to be tolerated here. We had a truly enjoyable time under this benign dictatorship, but the farm owners will be first against the wall come our glorious day.
From our tranquil fascist state to the cut and thrust of London-town. It is always a pleasure to see our friends Si & Lolo, and especially so when we descend upon them, because they are such good hosts. We strolled the banks of the Thames, bought CDs, and mostly drank. An added bonus of our time in London was a chance to meet up with the Freaks. In a pub in Brixton we talked of music, laughed at and with each other, and mostly drank.
From London to Bristol, and a barbeque with my best man, Aaron (who we plan to visit in Panama next year). He leaves the country at the end of September, but he threatens to see us in Liverpool before then.
And finally, a pleasant few days in Devon, where we hung out with my brother and Claire, and I took my first faltering steps into the glamorous world of surfing. Surfing is by turns: exhilarating, painful, funny, difficult, not how you think it would be, exactly how you think it would be and certainly worth further investigation.
Our itinerary has arrived from Trailfinders. It is:
Delhi 21 Oct - 5 Nov
Hong Kong 5 Nov - 10 Nov
Tokyo 10 Nov - 3 Dec
Bangkok 3 Dec - 17 Dec
Sydney 17 Dec - 2 Jan
Ayers Rock 2 Jan - 7 Jan
Cairns and down to Brisbane 7 Jan - 17 Feb
Auckland 17 Feb - 16 Mar
Honalulu 16 Mar - 7 Apr
LA 7 Apr - 20 Apr
Vancouver 20 Apr - 11 May
Panama 12 May - 1 Jun
Lima 1 Jun - 22 Jun
Back home 23 Jun
We're really happy with it. Of course, since it was decided, we?ve learned of other places we must visit. We should have included the West coast of Oz, and Western Samoa. We'll ask the Travel Agent if we still can include Samoa on the way to Hawaii, but I think that Western Oz is out. We just don't have time.
Thursday 8th August, Both write
Well, we finally got a plan together for the PFOT. We're currently in Hartington in the Peak District. Having a grreat time cycling the Tissington Trail (but our arses smart - poor saddles). Tomorrow, we head to Londinium, and then on to Bristol, and Devon, then home.
We've pretty much booked our One World tickets now. We leave 21st October. We'll fill you in on the details when we get home.
Sunday 4th August, Donna writes:
It's weekends like the one we have just enjoyed that we'll miss out on as we travel. Two dear friends got married yesterday - they got together at party at our house so we can maybe claim a small percentage of credit for the union. It was testimony that things change (and hopefully get better and better). It must be our age but whilst we are away several babies willl be born to other friends. A few months ago I wanted to be pregnant - now I'm back in student mode preparing for our trip and feel about 20 again - no way prepared for motherhood. It's stange how quickly I was lured away for the prospect of a family by the promise of world travel. I've no doubt we're doing the right thing - in years to come I can sit and tell my children of the adventures and experiences their dad and I have shared whilst they were just a twinkle in our eyes. As our friends jet off to far and distant places on holiday we are going to do the PFOT (the Pre F***ing Off Tour) of our friends around the country; where we descend upon them and in exchange for our sparkling chat and humour they feed us and give us a bed/floor space. I bet they can't wait!!
Thursday 1st August, Christian writes:
Oh crap! Can it be August already? Then whats the deal with all this rain?
Wednesday 31st July, Christian writes:
Welcome to the new, improved design. Say goodbye to the annoying horizontal blue lines. Thanks to Aaron for the new banner.
If you have any comments about the redesign, please visit: I've got a serious problem I need to get off my chest, perhaps I'm sexually repressed or something.
In other news:
I bought a digital camera, so expect some pretty pictures to arrive soon. Travelbag are putting together a quote for our tickets.
I had the idea that before we leave, we should do a photo-homage to Liverpool, our home for the past 7(ish) years. The idea would be to photo all the comedy-Liverpool sights such as Gerry the Fridge man, and Super Lamb Banana. Let me know if you have any suggestions.
We went camping at the weekend and discovered that we are the World's Greatest Campers. Which was nice.
Thursday 25th July, Donna writes:
I'm officially obsessed with our adventure. All I can think about is far off places. I'm incessantly purchasing the wrong thing; rucksacks safely returned I go on a hunt for a digital camera - I buy one that's reduced and looks shite so no-one would want to steal it. The problem was it is shite.
Friends have now been hitting this site and we've received lots of lovely e-mails from them. I so wish we coud take them all with us - that's the point of this - so they can experience 'virtual travel' . Thanks guys, keep them coming.
Thursday 25th July, Christian writes:
I stood on the balcony of a 20th floor apartment, nervously shuffling towards the edge. As there was no barrier, I was afraid to get any closer, but I desperately wanted to see the view below. Donna approached me from behind, and reassuringly held me around my waist. She explained that she would keep hold of me, and so I could look over the precipice. As we edged together, I looked down to see my naked toes just overhang the vertiginous drop. I knew that we would fall: even so we continued leaning further into the abyss.
And then gracefully, our feet left the platform and we fell, Donna still clinging tight to my back.
A crude metaphor, I know. But it's the dream I woke from this morning, so I thought it relevant enough to include here. To continue the dream is to extend the metaphor rather too far. I'm not quite sure what to make of this next bit.
We hit the ground with a thud and a crack (I thought that this wasn't supposed to happen in dreams. I had heard that if you hit the ground in a falling dream that you would not wake up - now I have disproof). We were both still conscious, but in pain. I had broken both legs and my hip, but my back and head seemed ok. Donna's condition much the same. We called for help, and a nearby building contractor ran over to us. We asked him to phone us an ambulance, but he wouldn?t, because he was some kind of sexual deviant. He went off to retrieve his torture/sex toys from his van, so I had to phone an ambulance myself using my mobile.
I woke up here, so I don't know if the paramedics arrived in time to save us from the fall-victim-pervert. Hmmm. I can't be held responsible for my subconscious.
Wednesday 24th July, Christian writes:
Sheepishly, we begin to tell our friends about the website. My intellectual friend Simon confirms my suspicion that the site may be revealing rather too much, although he does commend this openness. I must be careful what I say.
I email my best man, Aaron, to tell him of our plans. I return home from work to find a voicemail: nomadic and bohemian by nature, Aaron could not be more delighted for us if we had won the lottery. He congratulates our decision and dispels my concerns about anticipation/disappointment.
In the shops, shiny things catch Donna?s eye. She buys 2 new rucksacks. On closer inspection, the rucksacks are more for the airport teeter than the professional trekker. The luggage will return to it's retail limbo on Thursday: we are of sturdier stuff.
Mentally: Fair to Good. My monomania subsides. Donna is giddy with holiday excitement.
Monday 22nd July, Christian writes:
Useful things we have bought this weekend:
Travel towels (pack away real small, not the cardboardy type)
Travel shirts
Zip-off skirt (Donna, not me)
Folding scissors
Plastic washbags (though on reflection, they may be too small)
Elastic clothesline
We went over to Gatley to see M. and E. on Sunday. Over a pleasant tapas lunch, we grilled them over their travel experiences. So:
Useful things I have learned this weekend:
Cresta travel are recommended
Must-dos: Ayers rock (camping trip), camper-van hire in NZ, Hawaii
Don't take sleeping-bags, hostels won't let you use them
Book accommodation ahead
Also saw Donna's Mam & Dad. They are really supportive of our decision, which has helped our confidence a lot. They said that they may even fly out to NZ while we are there!
Friday 19th July 2002, Donna writes:
Most of my supported schools have finished today, I've told many of our plans; reactions have been mixed: some people think I'm too sensible, others sense the adventurousness in me. Most are envious. Since making the decision to go many people have said they wish they had the guts/opportunity to do what Christian and I are doing.
I spoke to my mum about it today; I'd deliberately avoided phoning her and she me, probably because we both know I'm going to do it and she doesn't want the confirmation and I don't want her to bring me back to reality, the reality that Christian and I are giving up on good jobs (I think I've been accepted onto the NPQH and Christians project has got another years contract) and more money than either of my parents have ever had the chance to earn.
I've arranged a camping trip with my sister, her husband and their children. I'm going to take my three-year old niece. I want to spend as much time with them as possible before I go, I know they are the ones I will miss the most. In my head they'll be excited at the thought of having an auntie and uncle on such an exciting voyage and take pleasure in receiving postcards and pictures to take into school. Their relative geography co-ordinators will love them! In reality they may forget what we look and sound like, oh well its not forever (Or perhaps it is).
Donna x
Thursday July 18th 2002, Christian writes:
Bridges are now burned. I have told my boss of our plans, and Donna has handed in her notice. There's no going back now.
It is said that the anticipation of travel exceeds the actual experience. But my anticipation is so pessimistic. I'm constantly dwelling on what may go wrong. What I need to enjoy this preface is a glossy brochure image in my mind of a beach or some such. At the moment it still seems so abstract. Perhaps I will find my optimism once the tickets arrive.
Tuesday July 16th 2002, Christian writes:
I catch sight of my naked torso in the gym changing rooms, and am somewhat surprised to see rolls of fat beginning to appear. Lamenting this new corpulence, I vow to eat less, and exercise more. Almost immediately I reject this idea: I should binge on all I can, because once the travels begin, food will be scarce. Donna maintains that she will return from our travels a size 10, or at the very most a perfect 12. We shall see.
Finally, it sinks in with Donna. A "Sold" sign appears in front of our home, and Donna realises that yes, we are going to do it, and yes, we are going to be homeless. When I detach myself from the situation, I can see that we will be OK, and have savings enough to cope. But we are nervous. Phrases such as "Giving up everything", "Selling up" and "Jacking it all in" pepper our conversations. But it will be worth it.
Monday July 8th 2002, Christian writes:
Where do I start? Well, things have changed. A chemical, biological change has occurred in me. My good friend Mike explained that it was puberty (at last).
The catalyst was a trip to Devon. Or perhaps it was before that: a mix of breaking my clavicle, the constant rain, watching Fight Club and reading Houllebecq, and thinking: there must be something more? Am I greedy to want more? So then, perhaps Devon was not the catalyst, but the confirmation:
"Yes Christian, there is more. And only your life decisions keep you from this. From air, from sea, from sky. You choose to live in a Northern City. You labour under the delusion that It Is Not Grim Up North and that You Are Happy Here. But it is grim, and you are only content. So yes, here is what you could have, if only you strive. Be brave my soldier, for the path ahead is rocky, but the destination is true happiness."
So then, Donna and I consider our paths, and we whittle down to two options. One: To begin looking for jobs/houses in other, more beautiful places (Devon, Catalonia, France, The Lakes), or Two (and this seems to be the favourite): Sell up, and with the proceeds, spend our next year travelling the world. Gain a sense of perspective, and then decide where we should live our lives.
I am not a fatalist, but three coinciding factors make me think that now is the time: That I will imminently lose my job, that we have sold our house and cannot find a new one, and that Donna is still not pregnant.
Above and beyond all this, I feel I should explain that Donna and I are in this together, and that whatever we decide, and wherever we end up, so long as we have each other...
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