Fiji, Friends and the Five life-changing lessons...

I'm a planner. I'm organized, efficient and productive. In an obsessive, over-the-top kind of way as well. This time last year, I bought a notebook and divided it into each country that we were visiting, with subdivisions for each area/city, noting down things like places to visit, cheap or free attractions, things to be wary of, places to eat, friends' recommendations etc...

However, after about a month of planning, each and every evening, hours and hours worth of data carefully and meticulously oragnized in my travel notebook, The Boy casually mentioned that he'd rather just 'wing it', as is the nature of backpacking apparently. I had a tantrum and then reluctantly agreed and we decided to use the notebook as a 'reference point' rather than a 'mini-spiral-bound-travelling-dictator'. His idea of travelling was that we would just turn up at the airport, look at each other, shrug our shoulders and find somewhere to stay. Well...you may remember how well THAT went in India (see this blog for details). However, for the most part, anti-planning has been a really exciting approach to travelling for us. It turned out to be so freeing to say "Hey, we LOVE it here, let's stay another week" without the pressures of booked trains or hostels to rearrange. We ate where we felt like eating and visited places that looked like fun taking opportunities as they presented themselves to us. We took advice from other travellers we met along the way, friends, family and occasionally, "The Notebook" and all in all had a really fantastic experience of 'playing it by ear'.

So, at the point of leaving New Zealand, we had been travelling for 8 and a half months, and had pretty much reached "Master Level" in 'winging it', backpacker style. I'd researched Fiji online briefly (remember, no stressing, no over-planning, just a quick glance at "The Notebook" to triple check we could enter visa-free) and found that we could waltz in without a visa, as we were only staying a week or two at most. We flew the red-eye (early hours in the morning) and arrived at about 5am, having had zero sleep, bleary-eyed but ready to explore the islands and find a beautiful beach to chill on for a couple of weeks.

We got our passports checked and the woman casually asked us the name of the hotel we were staying at. We replied, as we always have done, that we haven't booked anywhere, but it was the first job on our list of things to do in Fiji! Cue narrowed-eyed peering from the woman, followed by 'discreet' phone call to...someone. And then "Please take a seat over there" as she tucked our passports away on her desk and called the people behind us to come forward...

Ohhhh, what the heck is this, now?! Just when you start to relax, having winged it through seven countries relatively hassle free, JUST when you think "Yeh, we got this, we got this travelling malarky. We are soooo free and soooo chilled..." then BOOM. You find yourself sitting in what can only be described as a rum storage room but is clearly being passed off as the "Immigration Office for Fiji", looking at a man with scary stern eyes and no smile, wondering what code word you must have used that triggered such a hasty response...

Turns out the entry requirements for Fiji include having somewhere pre-booked to stay in. I think they are trying to avoid a "homeless traveller sleeps on the street" scenario, and fair play to them, but we had not been aware of this requirement and so we were in somewhat of a pickle. We sat in the 'office', surrounded by the boxes of rum (what are they doing with all that rum at the airport?!) and waited to find out if we were in trouble. After looking at us for a few minutes, he said he was going to book us in somewhere and asked us what our budget was. We looked at each other and mumbled something about not having a set budget, but that we basically needed to spend as little as possible. He slitted his eyes and looked at us suspiciously.

"How much money do you have on you now?" he asked. We again, looked at each other and the mumbling began again, "Well, I suppose, we don't have much, but really, in the bank I'd say...erm...maybe...well actually to tell the truth we are in our overdraft, so essentially we erm...have got money but are keen to not really use it so...erm..."

This did not go down well. He stood up and said he was taking George to an ATM and we had to get out this specific amount of money. Now. We clearly came across like those guys you see on "Border Patrol" who are the shadiest characters and you just KNOW they 're getting busted. Except we WEREN'T shady characters and really just wanted to SEE a beach before jetting back to Autumnal England!

So The Boy and Scary Immigration Officer returned with the cash and both seemed slightly more relaxed. And then, reassured that we weren't actually penniless, the hotel booking commenced. He tried to book us into a place on the mainland that we had heard wasn't all that great and whilst he was on the phone I began to whisper out of the corner of my mouth to The Boy... "Tell him we want an island...This is our only chance to have a Fijian Paradise Holiday, we want an ISLAND..."

...The view of another teeny island from
our teeny island...

"Erm...excus...excuse me? We'd actually quite like to stay on..erm...an island? Maybe.... *points to map* this one...please?" Without saying a word, the man picked up the phone and phoned the Beachcomber Island Resort and after a lot of quick mumbling he announced that for 4 nights all inclusive it will cost 'x' amount. The Boy and I looked at each other, both trying to read the others' expression. 'X' amount was more money than we had anticipated, and would cause us serious financial problems on our return to England, but it was the final destination on our round-the-world extravaganza, so surely, we could overspend a little bit?! Our thoughts were interrupted by Scary Immigration Man bluntly telling us that if we don't accept RIGHT now, he will deport us... Right now. And so the deal was done. He booked us 4 nights all inclusive and we finally left the 'office' for our much-shorter-than-originally-planned beach holiday.

...The view from our room. Green, green, green
until you hit the blue, blue, blue...

We arrived on the island, tired from the red-eye-no-sleep-at-all flight, behaving like zombies, more than ready for our first day on the beach. We were just filling out the forms at Reception when the manager approached us and asked if we were the ones who were collared by Immigration at the airport. She then went on to explain that she had upgraded us free of charge, from a bunkhouse to a private room, because she felt bad about our misunderstanding at the airport.

...So blue...Just SO blue..!

And our souls sung, and the sun seemed brighter and the sea seemed bluer and our room was perfect. Because, our first impression of Fiji was scary and stressful, and at one point I thought, what's the point?! Let's just get deported already! But the moment we arrived on that little island, our imaginations of the 'Paradise Getaway' began to come true.

I mean seriously... LOOK how clear and
blue this water is!! This is the ACTUAL SEA!

The island was tiny. So tiny that, when walking around it one afternoon, The Boy said after ten minutes "The sun is burning hot isn't it, maybe we should head back" and I stopped and looked around and said "Well... we are back, look..." and lo and behold, there was the bar we'd set off from!

...Conquering ANOTHER fear...Water. Oh, and
fish actually. Fish freak me out...

The water surrounding our paradise island was ridiculously perfect, being in paradise and all. It was so blue that I kept picking some of it up to see if it was actually coloured blue in my hands. I had a conspiracy theory that the Fijian government must pour tons of blue food dye into their oceans to keep the tourists coming each year. The Fijian people were amazing. They sung as people arrived onto the island and they sung a goodbye song as people left. They organized daily activities including snorkelling and fish feeding,  turtle conservation demo, games and competitions, day trips to other islands and of course, the traditional Kava ceremony.

We got to know the staff and even spent an evening drinking Kava and chatting with them in their staff bunkhouse, with one of the chefs giving his Sulu (man-skirt) to The Boy as a gift.

...We won a 'dancing with partners' game and
celebrated with a free pitcher of beer...

We met some new friends and spent our days sunbathing, snorkelling, eating (3 huge buffet meals a day split up by morning and afternoon tea and cakes, our tummies were constantly full...) reading, playing cards and sleeping. Four days flew by, and before we knew it we were listening to our own Goodbye song being sung, waving our friends off, crying and hugging the staff of the resort, promising we would be back again soon.

...Our friend Lauren leaving the island while the
staff wave and sing the Goodbye song...

And I so hope we will. It was the country we spent the least amount of time in, but it had one of the biggest impacts on me. The kindness, friendliness and fun of the Fijians on Beachcomber was overwhelming and that, combined with our new-found friends from around the globe meant that Fiji will remain as one of my top memories of travelling.

...About to board our final flight from
LA that will take us home! Note
the sleepy eyes of a man who is
done with all this flying...

And so, with a strange cocktail of sadness and anticipation in our hearts we set off home, flying from Fiji to LA, and LA to London within the space of 2 days. We hadn't told anyone that we had run out of money and we were coming back, leaving them to think we were staying in Fiji and then exploring America until Christmas, and the excitement of not only seeing our families and friends again, but also surprising them cushioned the sad thoughts that our trip of a lifetime was over.

We surprised George's family in Guildford, and then travelled up to Preston to surprise mine. Then, having felt so very sneaky having been in the country for about a fortnight without any friends knowing, we finally texted round and had a grand reunion.

...Jonesy so excited to be reunited with us. See
his smile? He loves us so...

So now we're home...It seems like only yesterday I was writing about our upcoming travels, wondering where the year would take us and what we would learn. I've been thinking about it a lot since arriving home and I think these would be my top 5 lessons the world has shared with me...

...Our friend David, chef at
Beachcomber. He gave us his Sulu,
which I wore ever so stylishly...

1. Love freely... Just because you should. Not to get money in return. Not because it's your job to be polite. Not because you're scared karma might look upon you unfavourably, but because it's good and right. The kindest, most loving people we've met this year all had one strong characteristic in common...they loved unconditionally.

2. Be scared...A HUGE one for me, with my plethora of fears and anxieties. I used to have spider dreams all the time such was my anxiety of them co-existing in the world with me, but the other day I spotted a teeny spiderling and I gently poked it with my finger. It didn't like it and I kinda felt bad afterwards but I did it. I actually poked a spidey and I'm now invincible!

...The nightmare spider
in Laos. Fears galore...

Well not invincible, but I am braver than ever and will now at least think about trying new things before deciding they scare me!

...The dreaded 17 hour minibus ride that we
no longer speak of...

3. Great Britain is tiny...I used to complain about travelling 4 hours to get from Surrey to Lancashire and vice versa. Now, having experienced a 30 hour train ride in India, a 17 hour minibus ride in Laos and countless 2 hour journeys from Surfer's Paradise to Brisbane just for afternoons out with pals, not to mention the 10 hour flights here and there, I will never again see a 4 hour journey as anything more than a little afternoon trip!

...I was so nervous about travelling in India. I had
been warned about being poorly and ended up
feeling so very healthy and happy..!

4. Take risks... If I'd believed everything I'd been told about the countries I visited before going, I'd never have left my sofa back home. Every single country was totally different to how I'd pictured it based on hearing other people's anecdotes and even reading guide books. Everyone experiences the world differently, including me! If you hear a country is awful to visit, or scary, or has 10 foot pythons in the toilets and spiders in everyones' bed, take it on, bear it in mind then get up and go and decide for yourself. Opinions are infinite and experiences are unique.

5. Throw the tick list away... My biggest (and most life-changing) lesson is exactly this. I literally wrote a list of things I wanted to see, do, experience and 'tick-off'. Some of them I did, and some I didn't, and it took me a long time to move on from the feeling of 'incompleteness', seeing items on my list not ticked off as I left the country in a plane. Having a tick list also sometimes means you only see things to say you've seen them, and I am, even now, guilty of doing this. When we visited Sydney Opera House, we stood outside it and I said "Right, we've seen it now, shall we get a Subway?" (I was obsessing about Subway that day, it's all I wanted) and that was that. Off we went for a foot long Veggie Delite...

...The obligatory selfie. You can practically see
my thoughts of a Veggie Delite..!

We didn't spend an hour marvelling at the architecture or going inside or actually seeing an opera (do they even do operas there? I assume so but I'll never know?) or learning about its history. We'd ticked it off and that was that. But maybe our experience would have been more meaningful if we had learnt about the woman/man who built it, or the creative reasons behind its unique shape... Don't get me wrong, I have a bucket list and it's exciting and motivating to have a list of things you want to accomplish, but for me, it was quite oppressing to have a tick list, as it made me anxious when we couldn't tick something off, and made me feel false elation when I could.

Since arriving back, the one thing most people have asked is this...
"What was your favourite place to visit?"
And the answer always changes. Because one day, I'll be craving a curry and I'll remember the amazing food we had in India, and India will climb up to my number one spot in the travelling charts in my head. Then another day, I will be cold and wintery in my house and I'll remember the days spent on Thai beaches, enjoying the beauty and tranquillity of such an awesome country and Thailand will be my number one memory for that day. Or I'll see a Facebook post from friends we met in Laos and I'll remember meeting their Lao family, sharing meals with them and painting the little girls' nails in their tiny village home. And Laos will be my favourite country in the world. For that day. And so on.

...Home, where the rain refreshes the traveller's
weary soul..!

But for now, the best country in the world is right here. England, where my favourite people in the world live, and where Autumn is every colour of the rainbow, and where a cup of tea is just right.

So I think we'll stay put for now...

Love Hannan xx

Mission Objective: Be afraid...

It's no secret that I'm a spooky-boo-scaredy-cat. I mean, I wrote a whole series of blogs about the things that scare me and believe me, they're just the tip of the iceberg...ICEBERGS - another thing that terrifies me. The whole Titanic thing and they're just so freaky BIG...! I feel sick just imagining them...

Anyway, I digress. So I get spooked. A lot. And when we arrived in New Zealand, eager to get on the open road and explore, I quickly picked up on the New Zealand Backpacker Mission Objective.

Every country seems to have a different objective and I reckon we hit them all...
India was all about 'Spiritual experience' - Learn about the culture, eat curry, find yourself involved in a Hindu worship ceremony and try to work out how to avoid kissing all the statues without offending the Swami...Mission completed!
Laos, Cambodia... 'Historical education' - Explore historical sites, learn about the chilling effects of war, meet locals, live simply...Mission completed!
 Australia was all about 'Chill out man'... just surf and have BBQs and be sun-kissed and peaceful...Mission completed!

So it turns out New Zealand's Mission Objective was 'Do something that scares you'...

Hurray! I haven't been scared hardly at all since we left England! Except for nearly every day in some way or another what with spider scares and snake scares and shark scares and sea swimming scares and flying in aeroplane scares and...

...The beginning of the walk...pre-tears...

Anyway, as usual I threw my concerns into the deepest corner of my unconscious and leapt headfirst into our first challenge. A five-day camping hike in the gorgeous Abel Tasman National Park on the South Island, near Nelson. Our friends Ben and Donna, at whose house we were staying had prepped us really well. We'd been out and bought walking boots (my first pair, despite having lived in the Lake District for 3 years...) and they had kitted us to the max with layers and layers and waterproofs and camping gear and cooking gear and maps.

..The Boy, powering ahead..!

We'd bought food enough for five days and packed the whole load into our backpacks. And I was actually excited!

For those who don't know me very well, I'm not the most outdoorsy person in the world. Not for lack of trying mind you, I really love being outside, I love being active and all that. The problem is that sometimes, only sometimes, nature gets a bit in the way of my enjoyment. I'll be trying to enjoy a lovely walk and the cruel wind will start piping up and before you know it, I'm freezing and miserable and irritated by my hair whipping my eyes. Or I'll be walking in the grass, or sitting enjoying a picnic when a horrible spider intruder will come striding in and ruin my happiness. Or I might be trying to enjoy a beer and a campfire on the beach but all I can worry about is whether a snake is going to come out of the nearby jungle and wrap me up...

So the idea of a five day hike in a hilly and coastal national park filled me equally with excitment (pretty views, sleeping under the stars, quality time with my husband etc) and dread (spiders, mosquitos, sandflies, spooky darkness, big hills).

...That first lunch stop.
At this point I was scared this adventure
might kill me...

So, trying to be positive, I set off. We'd waved Ben off after he had dropped us off at the start of the walk and, backpacks filled up and layers on (turns out it's cold in NZ in winter!) we began our adventure. And our bags were SO heavy. We'd been walking about two and a half minutes when I needed my first rest stop. I looked back to see how far we'd come and could still see the road with the cars on. Felt completely overwhelmed with how far we had to walk just to have lunch never mind before we camped, fought the desire to freak out, and carried on plodding.

...The Boy, 'promising' he wasn't
getting annoyed with the frequent rest stops...

I first cried about an hour in. The heavy backpack was causing each step I took to become a terrible ordeal and I could tell The Boy was losing patience with me beneath the gritted-teeth-smile. I had to stop every ten minutes because crying whilst walking was just too tricky. That first day lasted forever. But we finally made it to the campsite and never before have I enjoyed sleeping in a tent so much.

Even the darkness and spooky empty campsite and cold spider-filled toilet blocks couldn't squash my elation at finishing that first walk. Sitting by the campfire with a mug of wine and a square of chocolate I thought to myself "Blooming Heck, I might actually be able to DO this..!"

...Morning of Day 4. The huge smiles
are because today's walk is only
3 hours..!

Over the next 5 days we walked about 45km, camping at completely empty camp sites due to it being low season, having a brew on an empty beach, eating the same meals every day and feeling our backpacks getting slightly lighter each morning. By the end I felt so accomplished and proud. I even managed to go the last 3 days without crying.

..."Craters of the moon" walk. Steam pouring
out of the ground and huge hot mud pools...

For me, the camping hike was a scary venture. For George, not so much. He still had a hankering for danger, so as we travelled up the North Island in a rented campervan, we booked him in for a skydive. That should feed the fear-beast in his belly! And it did.

We spent the next couple of weeks exploring the North Island, swimming in natural hot springs, visiting Hobbiton and the Hobbit Holes, seeing friends and enjoying the beauty of New Zealand.

...Swimming in the natural hot springs was
gorgeous, getting out and being cold was not...

Because it really is something else. I very much feel like I have conquered some of my fears about being 'outdoorsy'. I learnt how to camp, hike, wee in nature and swim in a river.
Without any worries about nature getting in the way!

After conquering these fears, it was time to move on. Money was falling through our hands like sand and we had to make sure there was enough left to allow us to actually get home. Having only paid for our flights up to Los Angeles, we could very easily end up broke and homeless, wandering around Hollywood for the rest of our days, wondering if we could possibly sneak onto a plane to London when no-one was looking...

...The Boy Baggins...

So we sat down with our abacus and worked out how much money we had left after booking tickets home, and the answer was...really none at all. Having pre-booked flights to Fiji we decided it would be ludicrous to fly in and out of Fiji without seeing it AT ALL, so we decided to just go for it. What are your 20's for if not for getting into crazy debt?! I'll let future Hannan sort out our money issues when we get back. For now, present Hannan is going to FIJI and it will be paradise!

Turns out "getting to paradise", particularly on a whim, doesn't work out so well in Fiji. But that, my friends, is another tale for another time. Keep a look out for that one, it's a good'un.

The moral of this story is: Be Brave, Try new things and reach your own limit, not the limit the world has decided on. My 'something scary' was a five day hike and camp, The Boy's was jumping out of a plane at 12,000 feet.

Each to their own!

...Rest break, Perfect weather, Stunning view, NOT sulking...promise..!

There's a time for fighting and a time for flight-ing...

They say you learn something new every day... And today's nugget of learning is brought to you by Hannan, free of charge. Listen up and switch your learning brains on because here are some facts about chickens...

...My favourite chicken
named Rainbow by me...

Did you know that when you get new chickens you can put pretend, plastic eggs in their nesting boxes as a 'reminder' of their purpose on this planet.

...OK so I didn't build the actual COOP...
...but I did get all their food ready and put the
fences up..!

So when they wander in on that first night into their new home they go "ey, Rainbow! Look at this! That seems vaguely familiar...oh NOW I remember what the point in being a chicken is! Let's have a go then..." and hopefully have a go at laying real eggs. How cute is that?!

...Collecting the eggs, but which one
is the pretend egg..?

Did you also know that chickens will respond one of two ways when they feel threatened. If you go to pick up a chicken to give it a quick snuggle she will either run away squarking and flapping her mighty wings, or she will adopt a 'brace' position, bend her knees, put her wings out a bit and freeze, still on the ground, allowing you to pick her up on her own terms, the brave little soul that she is.

She will either fight, (by accepting her fate and being real brave) or fly (almost literally).

And the funny thing about that chicken fact is that I am exactly the same. In fact, I think we all are. When faced with stress, conflict, danger or anxiety, our body goes into 'fight or flight' mode. We will either face the danger head on, or freak out and leg it right out of there.

This has been a well known feeling in my life, particularly since the start of our travels back in January. Having spent a lot of my adult life battling with the sneaky, naughty monster we call "Anxiety", I have frequently found myself facing situations in which I have to decide whether to brace myself and 'go with the flow', or give up, cry, stamp my feet and refuse to play. Now, I'm not even talking about serious incidents, or huge disasters. Even the little things in my life can trigger a 'fight or flight' moment and I often find myself standing there, deciding which way to deal with it.

If you read my previous blog, you will already know about our big decision to leave our comfy day-in-day-out lives in Surfer's Paradise and dive into the 'Helpx' network backpacks first. If you don't know about this you can hurry over now and go read it by clicking here! But if you are in a bit of a rush, like when you read a quick blog while doing a wee at work or need a 5 minute filler while riding an escalator, I'll quickly explain. Helpx involves volunteers (us) staying with hosts around the world and working at their house/farm/hostel/boat/anywhere for a few hours a day and in exchange we get free accomodation and food. It's a bit scary for people like me (control freaks) because:
a) You have no control over the type of jobs you do. Although lots of people say they are easy going they still tend to have a pretty good idea of wha they need from you.
b) You have to take a huge risk each time you stay with a new host. Being someone who likes routines, planning and in-depth detail, it can be slightly daunting turning up to stay with someone for two whole weeks without knowing anything about what they're like or what your routine will be!

So bearing these anxieties in mind, when I found out that on our first Helpx project we would be staying on Macleay Island, in a very rural area, off the coast of Queensland, and that there were spiders in the house, and snakes out in the bush at the bottom of the garden, I was less than thrilled. First anxiety hurdle reached, thought process as follows:

"This is freaky, I hate this. Is that a spider in my hair?!?! No, just fluff. I want to go home, I miss my safe house... NO, I can stay here and be fine. I can do this. Don't give up and leave, be brave.  FIGHT: stay positive, stay strong, maybe check under the pillow every night for Huntsmans. Bring it on..." 

Hurdle cleared! Woooop! Well done Hannan, look at you fighting your way across Australia. Then came the next hurdle: First day of work. I was gardening in a garden with every Australian beast in existence lurking under leaves. Even as Eileen was explaining what I needed to do I could see 3 naughty big spiders spreading their bodies across between the plants waiting to smile at me. This time the thought process first involved a bit of FLIGHT in the form of sneaking to the loo to cry, minor tantrum, telling George I was going home and then evolving into the decision to FIGHT the fear and see how that went, or as Eileen always told me "Feel the fear and do it anyway...!" 

...The raised bed I assembled, layered
up with the good stuff and planted
those teeny babies inside all snug
in their dirty duvets... 

And it went really well! I certainly felt the fear but straight up did it anyway!

By the end of the two weeks at Eileen's house I  was so much more relaxed and so much less anxious. I was fetching tools out of the shed, (even getting the 'spider-checking-routine' down to 10 seconds from a crazy minute and a half) planting in the veggie patch that I built MYSELF, and even picking up chickens and snuggling them (a huge success after initially not even being able to stroke them for fear of having my eyes pecked away). I was a fighter, brave and true, and really enjoyed living the 'simple life' of a happy gardener living off the land.

After enjoying Macleay Island for a couple of weeks, we ventured North to the Sunshine Coast and spent a couple of weeks staying in a house with an amazing cliff/rainforest garden.

...Beautiful rainforest garden on a cliff out the
back of the house...

Having been lulled into a false sense of security with all my Fighter's "I can do this" mentality, I tackled each of the jobs head on initially. After a couple of days though, and having seen a LOT of gigantic Huntsman spiders the size of tarantulas, the routine of "work - eat - go to town - sleep - repeat" began wearing me out. I lost energy and excitement for the concept of Helpx and missed seeing friends, having personal space and feeling relaxed (because being anxious and choosing between flight and flight all day long can be terribly exhausting). All of this combined with a serious demise in dollars brought us to a big decision. Maybe it was time to bid Australia farewell and move on to visit New Zealand.

...Both indifferent to the others'
presence...

The Helpx lifestyle suits many people (and of course we had only done it for a short while) but we were ready to be in control of our time again, and not feel we had to penny pinch just for the sake of gaining another week in Australia. It felt like we were just fighting to stay in Australia, even though we couldn't afford to see any of it!

So we packed up our things, blew the last of our Australian budget on a day seeing koalas and kangaroos (obviously) and climbed onto a plane that will take us to the next destination.

Australia...it's been amazing. Life changing in fact. We love your beaches, your weather and your laid back look at life. But I've done my fighting. It's time to fly. New Zealand? Get the kettle on, we'll be there soon.

...Time to fly..!

The best laid plans of Mice and Hannan...

It's a Wednesday afternoon in the Gold Coast, East Australia and I'm sat in my room. Under my duvet. And this is how I have been spending a lot of my days lately. And the reason for this is two-fold:

...Waiting for the bus. Freezing...

1. It's winter and it's cold. Yes, even Australia gets cold. Not Britain-winter cold, but cold enough to want to be inside your house. In a duvet. With a gallon of English Breakfast tea.

2. We are short on the ol' dollar front. When we first arrived we threw that bright colourful plastic money around on coffee shops, trips around the Gold Coast, even a cheeky schooner of Aussie beer! Then, as work failed to appear and shops insisted on charging us for food, money began to run out... This resulted in our daily activities being limited to a walk to the local park, Playstation afternoons, Netflix marathons and UNO games to decide who's turn it is to clean the bathroom.

...Guess who won..?

This was NOT the plan.
The plan involved finding jobs INSTANTLY, using our money to live the care-free Australian life promised to us by Buzzfeed and Home and Away. The plan involved spending most days at the beach, overdosing on Vit-D thanks to Mr Australian Sunshine and becoming the masters of BBQing Aussie-Style. The plan involved saving enough money to travel the country  inbetween work days and seeing all Australia has to offer.

But, the funny thing about making plans is that we really shouldn't bother. As Burns once said;

"The best laid schemes o' mice an' men

Gang aft a-gley..."

Which, as we all know, is Ol' Burnsy's Scottish way of saying that when Humans and Mice (??) try to make good plans, they often get all fizzed up and you realise there aint no point in making a plan in the first place.

Being a control freak and an idealist, I struggled with the notion of screwing the old plan up and creating a new one. "But....but...we said we would LIVE here for 6 months AT LEAST and it's only been 3!!"

"But...no but I've joined the library! I LIKE having a library card and doing the big shop!"

...An example of the 'free' activities we can do near
our house!"

One of The Boy's biggest struggles being married to me is that I am an imagination painter. I'm a very gifted imagination painter actually, even if I do say so myself. I can create masterpieces in supreme detail in my mind of how something will be, how it will look and how I will feel (yes, I can even paint emotions!) Without much effort I can almost feel like I know how a situation will pan out before I've even arrived there. I do it with conversations ("No...no The Boy, you're supposed to say THIS, then I can say THIS back to you!") and I do it with social events ("But I'll walk in the room and everyone will laugh at me for spilling my drink, I just KNOW that it will happen!") and I did it with travelling. It's a good job The Boy balances me out. He refuses to guess how a situation will pan out. I spend hours quizzing him about what he thinks our future dog will look like, or what our children might be like, or even what tomorrow will be like and he always says "Well, I don't know! It hasn't happened yet!" 

So when our last plastic bank note disappeared from our purse we looked at each other and finally admitted that we needed a plan-rethink. And it wasn't scary or sad actually, it was exciting! We both realised that we had been staying in our day in-day out routine because that's just what we had decided rather than it being exciting and life-changing and 'something to tell the grandkids'. I'm not sure how excited our grandchildren would be when we tell them the story of the weeks on end we spent playing UNO, waiting for SOMEONE to give us a full time job in a coffee shop...

We decided to leave our comfortable lives here in Surfer's Paradise and spread our wings across Australia. We signed up to 'Helpx', a website that links volunteers up with hosts. We are going to stay with different people all around the country, working for them in many ways in exchange for free accomodation and food. We leave in a week and are so excited to meet new people, try new activities and most of all, to actually SEE Australia!

...Our "We're-going-on-a-new-adventure!"
smiles...

And, in the spirit of me being 'free', 'spontaneous' and 'brave' as is the purpose of this year of travel (see first blog for more details on that particular hurdle) I WILL embrace the uncertainty of each new host. I WILL choose excitement over anxiety. And I WILL put down the notebook that contains all my plans and hand it over to The Boy, letting the laid-back attitude that Australia is so famous for wash over me. 

So we leave in one week! But...for now...it really is freezing and I WILL be in my duvet until the next chapter of our adventure begins. One more game of UNO anyone..?

Malteasers and Orange ones...

Once upon a grey rainy day in the North of Engand, a white VW Campervan sat on a murky field. Inside, two Pot Noodles, chicken flavour obviously, waited patiently as the water bubbled away on the nearby camping stove, and a man and a woman played scrabble with hungry tummies.

It sounds idyllic doesn't it. And it would have been, except for the fact that this is a true story, set two years ago, and this was our actual honeymoon in the Lake District. 

Aside from a Nuclear Power Plant, which we were keen to steer clear of, there was nothing in this 'coastal-location-that-shall-remain-nameless' that remotely engaged us. Having typed 'restaurants near me' into my phone, I had discovered 'there are 0 restaurants near me' (Subway it is then..) and things were looking pretty bleak. Instead of spending the evening having a romantic meal 'somewhere nice', we had to resort to a depressing Pot Noodle. And instead of a day out exploring charming boutiques and quaint cafes, we settled for a rainy afternoon in the campervan playing Scrabble in our onesies.

I tell this story not to have a moan about rain, (I happen to love the rain, being a 'Northern Lass') or complain about the Lake District (I lived there for 3 years and know it is stunning...mostly) or even to belittle Pot Noodles (there's a time and a place for sure). I tell it because it was our two year anniversary last week and it got my brain whizzing over how married life is full of surprises, both happy and disappointing, not unlike a bag of Revels. And not being one to let a good brain-whizz go undocumented, I thought it would be best if I shared...

We've all been there. You open a packet of Revels, excited, expectant, maybe a little anxious, and you begin the adventure. What will your first bite be? Well, in my experience, married life can be just the same. On your wedding day, you say those special vows, look into each others' eyes, have a cheeky smooch in front of everyone you know, then party the night away. It's certainly like choosing your first Revel and joyfully discovering it's a Malteaser! In fact, forget the Revels, it's like buying a whole box of Malteasers and eating them all in one glorious day.

But then real life begins.

For those healthy people out there, who would NEVER indulge in a whole bag of chocolates, let me explain Revels. They each have a different flavour and are covered in chocolate, which makes it very difficult to tell (for most of them) which flavour you're about to enjoy (or not..!) After Malteasers, my favourite Revel is the Toffee one. The worst one is the Orange one, and unfortunately these two look dangerously similar to the untrained eye. It would be so much easier if the Revels had special shapes to help us tell whether we are going to enjoy each one or not. It would prevent any disappointing surprises. But the fun of Revels, just like being married, is taking the risk and hoping for the best, enjoying the Toffee moments and working together through the Orange ones.

When we decided to spend a big chunk of our savings travelling the world for a year it was like we were sticking our hands into the Revels bag and hoping for the best. It could have gone so badly. We could have been mugged in India, or had our backpacks stolen in Laos. We could have been food poisoned in Cambodia or ended up homeless in Australia.

We could have had Orange after Orange after Orange Revel, until finally, one or both of us would throw the Revel packet onto the ground in a tantrum, and write a letter of complaint to the manufacturer, to let them know we had a bag entirely filled with ORANGE ones.

Thankfully, this hasn't been the case, and our metaphorical Revels bag has been a fairly even mix. Sure, we've had Orange moments. Like the 12 hours waiting for our night train (which was delayed) on a freezing cold day in India, trying to remember why we'd ever thought backpacking around the world was a good idea as we shivered on a windy platform in thin hoodies. Or last week, when my long-sought-after bike was stolen from the bike shed in town and we walked home in silence, heads low, feeling the injustice of working hard to buy something only for it to be taken by a freeloader.

But we've also had plenty of Malteaser moments as well. More than I can even think of right now. Like this aftenoon, sitting in our garden on a blanket, listening to music, playing UNO, enjoying the warmth of the sun (in WINTER! Crazy!) Or taking the dog for a walk in the park and laughing as she chases the birds like a crazy fiend.

Sometimes, when all you've eaten are Revels, from morning to evening for 6 months, it can make you cranky, (I'm still talking metaphorically here, I happen to have a very healthy, balanced diet!) Since January, The Boy and I have spent every waking (and sleeping) moment in each others' presence and every now and then we notice our irritability levels rising and a stormy moment approaching. Two years of missing the signs and engaging in unhelpful rages at each other has finally taught us that it's fine to take a step back. And breathe. And put down the "verbal-grenade" that we are dying to hurl at the other person. Sometimes we just need to put the Revels away for a couple of hours, go for a walk, have some space and then come back later and continue the Revel adventure, refreshed, recharged and reset.

Sometimes, I've expected something to go a certain way and it has taken me completely by surprise by being the exact opposite. Like the story of our honeymoon. We had expected this town to provide us with a day out exploring and enjoying fine cuisine. It was like choosing what you think is a Raisin Revel, only to discover it is in fact Coffee. In the end, you enjoy it either way, it's just different! (Who doesn't love a pyjama day playing Scrabble with a Pot Noodle hey!)

There's one Revel that breaks the rules though. It's easy to recognise and you ALWAYS know what you're getting. It's the chocolate one. It's shaped like a 'flying saucer' and even before you bring it out of the packet you know exactly what's going to go down. It isn't trying to fool anyone. It's simple, it's chocolate, you know you'll like it. It's like me and The Boy. Throughout the rest of our marriage there will be Toffees and Coffees and Malteasers and, unfortunately Orange ones, but you always know that deep down in that packet, you'll find the chocolate. And it never lets you down.

Excuse me, must dash, I have a real hankering for some Revels...

Pumpkins and Eggplants and Mulled Wine in May...

I bet everyone has a couple of things that they associate with their birthday. My sister, Jess, was born on Hallow'een so every year as the shops start filling their shelves with freaky nonsense like ghouls and warlocks, she knows her birthday is on it's jolly way. My Brother Bear's birthday is just before New Year's, so as soon as Christmas is over, he can feel his birthday approaching.

When I was a small Hannan there was always a big clue that my birthday was almost here. The two tall trees at the bottom of our garden would grow beautiful gowns of pink blossom, like big bags of candy floss. When the blossom started raining down like confetti I knew it was almost my birthday.

...The Boy woke me up with
a cuppa and a pile of
presents :)...

Yesterday it was my birthday and it felt a bit weird. The weather was far too warm for a start. Also, there wasn't a dot of blossom to be seen! The reason for this is that about 6 weeks ago, our globetrotting brought us down under to Australia, where life is different and seasons are a little bit backwards!

Back in England, around my birthday time, people are just starting to get excited about the approaching summer. Some years are warm enough to go out with flip flops on, and there's a general buzz of anticipation and sunshine joy as people plan their summertime activities. In Australia, May is in Autumn. All the shops are bringing out their 'winter collections', with signs talking about "preparing for the winter" and "wrapping up cosy warm". It's no wonder I felt totally unprepared for my birthday! But once the logical side of my brain had nudged the sensory side of my brain and convinced it that 'yes it is actually May and a birthday for celebrating', I felt like less of a fraudster and had a fun gorgeous day with The Boy, adventuring down the coast.

It made me realise though, how different life is 'down under' to back home. I thought you may like to hear my musings? Well hear away...

Confusing advertising...

...After a day in this sunshine, how is it possible
to enjoy MULLED WINE..!?

I've already mentioned the signs about 'wrapping up warm' and buying woolen items, but the icing on the cake of confusion was a sign I saw in a pub the other day. It boasted MULLED WINE as a "Winter Warmer"?! In MAY! Our friends from the UK, who live in Brisbane had surprised me with a Birthday Picnic! We spent the day in the sunshine and then later that evening Tara ordered Mulled wine! I feel like I might be a robot sometimes. If I smell mowed grass it must be summer and I will definitely go out in a vest top. If I smell a wood burning stove, it must be winter and I will get out my onesie and snuggle with the dog. And if I taste mulled wine then it is OBVIOUSLY Christmas and I will start singing Cliff Richard and making mince pies! Mulled wine should never exist in May!

Flora...

...Our flatmates dog using a palm leaf as a chew toy.
They are HUGE...

There are palm trees all over the place and I love it! However, as it is currently Autumn, they are beginning to drop their leaves. In the UK, Autumn conjures images in my head of children frolicking in mittens as golden and brown leaves flitter down onto their heads. In Australia, if one of those plam leaves falls down on the children's heads they would no longer be fit for frolicking. These leaves are heavy and feel like they're made of wood. And they're about six feet long! One fell into our back yard the other day and I thought the neighbour had chucked a dead potted plant over the fence.

...and Fauna

...One of the many giant painted koalas kicking
about Surfers Paradise...

I admit I had my fears about living in Australia. We've all seen "I'm a Celebrity...Get me out of Here!" (which is filmed near where we are living in the Gold Coast!) I assumed Australian houses would be filled to the brim with huntsman spiders, killer snakes and wombats (still not sure what a wombat is...?) but I haven't seen a single creeper crawler since we arrived! I also thought the streets would have koalas and kangaroos roaming around as common as cats are in the UK. There are none. There are however, giant painted koalas around Surfers Paradise where we live, all painted in different designs! Today I saw one with long flowing golden hair. It was my koala twin.

Aussie lingo

"...Yeah mate, just spent the 'arvo' having
a 'Barbie' on the beach. We ate eggplant,
capsicum and pumpkins..!"

The first time I did the big shop, I was on my own and I decided to go to the self-checkout. I was there about 10 minutes searching through the vegetable menu for 'pepper' before realising they call it a 'capsicum'. Then I tried to find 'aubergine'. It's called an eggplant. EGG. PLANT? The final straw was when I couldn't find 'butternut squash' which was because they called it a pumpkin. And don't even get me started on the crisps/chips/fries confusion..! Not to mention the fact that they call flip-flops THONGS. There are so many ways that has confused and shocked me since arriving in Oz, I can't even tell you...

...Look at how happy we are. That's because we can
have BBQs in local parks, while accessing free wifi
and drinking delicious water..!

Kindness for the Community

The Aussie government have this thing they do where they try and make the people of Australia happy. It's a novel idea and I wonder if it would work in the UK. They do things like install free wifi in local parks and high streets, have public BBQs in parks and at beaches for the people to use as they please. They also have lovely drinking fountains everywhere. Australia is a kind place to live :)

Sun, Sea and Sand...

...Me, probably pretending I'm in a music video...

Australia has some of the most beautiful beaches in the world. We are lucky enough to be living in Surfers Paradise, on the Gold Coast which is just as stunning as it sounds! Big smashing waves and golden sandy beaches. Having grown up with Blackpool on my doorstep, you can imagine how excited I was to live so close to such a beautiful beach. I like to cycle down the seafront and pretend I'm in a music video. Today though, my brakes broke just as I was about to stop at a road. Thankfully I careered onto some grass and didn't become Australian road-kill.

...George cycled right past me while I
was on the bus and I got way more
excited than was necessary, laughing
and banging on the window...

Shortly after that disaster, when I'd managed to temporarily fix my brakes, my basket smashed right off the front of my bike (again, as I was crossing a road) sending my new library books, my phone and the contents of my bag flying all over the place. Luckily The Boy was there to sort me out. When things like that happen I tend to just stand and look, as if it's happening to someone else. I'd probably still be there now, looking around, if he hadn't saved the day. He ended up riding my bike home while I got the bus!

The only problem...
We love our new Aussie lives. We love the weather, the laid back lifestyle, the beaches and I'm even starting to enjoy the use of the word 'thongs'! There's just one problem. It's not in England. I already miss my family and friends, the contrasting seasons and the springtime blossom. I'd find Christmas a maelstrom of confusion, being the hottest time of the year, and I would even miss the rain a teeny bit!

...Yeah, Surfers Paradise, Blackpool, what's the
difference really..?

So for the time being, it's perfection and I'm going to enjoy every moment we are here but you can bet your bottom Australian dollar I'll be home before Spring.

Who needs an all-year-round tan anyway!

Love Hannan xxx

Let me take you on a journey...

Tomorrow we embark on the final journey of our south-east Asian backpacking adventure (not counting of course, the 2 aeroplanes we need to use to get to Australia!) and we are so excited to begin the next chapter of our year of discovery. It got me ol’ brainbox whizzing round though, reminiscing on the different ways we have traveled around this great spinny sphere we named Earth. We haven’t had a proper catch up since I told you about why I always lose at chess so I will start there, at the beginning of our journey to Laos. Grab a brew, a pizza or a kit-kat, and a cosy single-seater sofa because you’re about to hear a tale. 
Let me take you on a journey…

...It's always smiles on a minibus...usually...

The journey begins on a minibus. We had just been carried away from Thailand on a train and had gone through the drama of filling our visa application in. It’s a strange system really the visa making system. Some people pay lots of money, some pay a little bit, and some people don’t pay at all! It’s my understanding that Canada gets the worst deal, and I observed that the Russian girls in front of us got away scott-free! It’s how it would be if children were in charge of border control. “Russia is my BESTEST friend EVER and got me a ROBOT DOGGY for my birthday so they can come in for free. Canada only got me a balloon animal making set…so… a hundred pounds please…” Strange…

Anyway, once we had sorted the legalities we were ferried onto a minibus (no-one informs you ever of what’s going on or where we are going by the way, and this happens throughout Asia. We are just told; “Bus – get on.” And we sort of have to just do it! Seems to work though, so it’s all good! Mob mentality I think…). I was really digging my latest book so decided to spend the journey reading, and The Boy fell quickly into a slumber. Before we knew it we were in Laos! We didn’t feel the magic tingle as we passed over the boundary line or hear the fanfares or anything! But our biggest disappointment was when we realized that somewhere along the journey, we had CHANGED SIDES ON THE ROAD??! I would have loved to see how that worked! There must have been cars and buses all over the place, switching and swapping and swerving from left to right! I must pay more attention next time we change countries.

...At a night market in Vientiane...

Vientiane was wonderful. We enjoyed our first taste of western food in 2 months and scoffed baguettes left right and centre! After a few days, and after my tummy had decided to behave itself, (see last blog for details…) we ventured on to the town of Vang Vieng. A couple of days later it was The Boy’s birthday! We had planned to spend the day cycling to the lagoon and enjoying a picnic, (and birthday cake that I sneakily bought!) but alas, it was not to be…

We hired the bikes and began our journey. It was a boiling hot day and the sun scorched down on us as we cycled through the paddy fields. Laos has a very sad history in that it was involved in a secret war in the 60s-70s during America’s war with Vietnam. American planes dropped so many cluster bombs on it that it earned itself the sad title of ‘most bombed country in the world’. (See the bottom of the page for the link to an article if you would like to learn more) As a result, millions of bombies (not me trying to be ‘cute’, they are actually called bombies!) still hide in the countryside of Laos, waiting for an unsuspecting farmer or child to disturb them so they can continue to claim their victims long after the war has finished. Despite ongoing clean up operations, that have successfully removed thousands of bombies, many still remain, and this fact kind of freaked me out. As we cycled over the paddy fields, (in the designated path area, of course!) I was wondering how thoroughly the area had been checked for UXOs (unexploded ordinances). The idea was playing inside my brainbox, tickling the section that makes me worry, when all of a sudden…

…BANG!!!

I felt a rush of wind on my legs and my bike clatter to the side. Obviously my first thought was that I had ridden over a bombie and blown it up real bad. But then my brain woke up and said “Yeah, I don’t think you’d be functioning this well if that was the case. I’m fairly sure it would be more obvious…” Good old reassuring brain. So, I hadn’t disturbed a bombie, thankfully. But what on earth had happened?! I walked my bike over to The Boy who was waiting in a shady picnic benched area looking at me in shock. He said, “Your tyre just… exploded!” At this point I felt a bit guilty that I had glared at a nearby Lao man, thinking he had maybe thrown a banger at my bike, and tried to rectify it by giving him an apologetic smile. I looked down to see that The Boy was right. 

...The Boy likes to be naughty when
I try and take handsome photos
of him. Here is is being naughty
with all of his birthday presents..!

My rear tyre was completely blown apart. It was probably a combination of the heat and bumpy, rocky terrain that had caused it to give up the ghost. We decided that we had too far to go to walk to the lagoon and had our picnic there under the trees. Then we walked sheepishly back to the town and paid the price (50,000 kip) for a replacement tyre. We still had a fun day celebrating The Boy turning 28 though. We had a pizza and cake with candles, and played cards as the sun set. Beauty!

Vang Vieng also saw us tubing on the river. One of my favourite modes of transport! We lazily floated at 2mph throughout the entire day until the very last section, where we had to try and climb out of the river, at which point it became a wild, powerful, rapid flow. A couple of beers, a huge inner tube and uncontrollable laughter made it a bit of a hilarious (and dangerous) mission, desperately trying to wade towards the shore before you ended up in the next town along! Funny how the men are so helpful throwing ropes to bring you in when there’s a bar, yet at the end…none to be seen…mysterious!

The next stop on our adventure was a town called Luang Prabang. Again, we rented cycles and enjoyed exploring the cafes and markets. I decided Luang Prabang would be a good place to post all the parcels I had been building up for friends and family and we made our way to the local post office.

...Ruined the 'surprise' birthday
present for my Mum by forgetting
that I had been made to write
what was in the box...

Now, a long time ago, (in Thailand) I had spent several relaxing days forming shell creations to hang in various people’s houses. I had made one for my sister, one for the kids in my old class, and one for a gift to our friends for their wedding (spoiler alert guys, hope you read this after you open presents!) I also had to send a special gift home to my dear Mama, for her birthday, which was a rug, made by an Indian man. Add to this, various letters and trinkets for other friends I had been thinking of, and you end up with a whopping bill of around… 700,000 kip (£60)… Oh my word, The Boy was cross. But what could we do?! So we (I..) sent it! We moped around the rest of the day, promising we wouldn’t spend any more money, just living off rice until we got to Australia, and sleeping in local parks…

We traveled to Phonsavan a few days later, a small town with lots of information about the history of Laos and the secret war. We ate in a café with a bunch of bombs (as tall as a man!) standing up next to the tables, and bombies hanging on the wall. It was kind of chilling.

...Some of the jars...

The main attraction in Phonsavan though, is the Plain of Jars. It’s a bit like a Lao Stonehenge, and consists of acres of fields over many sites, scattered with stone jars of all sizes. There is a mystery surrounding the jars, with no-one really knowing their purpose. Some think they were water containers, some believe they were burial jars, wine containers, all sorts! The biggest was taller than The Boy and super huge! He had a fun time walking around like a historical documentary presenter, explaining to me what was going on.

It made me wonder how on earth they TRANSPORTED the jars! (Ahhh, see, there’s the link!) Elephants or spaceships probably. Or giant unicorns? No-one knows.

Our journey from Phonsavan to Paxse was one about which we do not speak. Except for right now when I relive it for you. And then we won’t ever speak of it again. The tuktuk was late to collect us from our guesthouse, resulting in us being the LAST passengers to board the bus. It was not as small as a minibus, but not a full size Daddy bus either. It was sort of a teenage bus, neither big nor small. Being the last to board meant that all the actual seats were taken. We thought they would maybe direct us to a second bus, as obviously we can’t fit on a bus when all the seats are taken! Nope! We were shown 2 pull-down makeshift seats right at the front (behind the driver and passenger). The seats had teeny backrests and no footwell, meaning we had to sit with our feet bent up in front of us, resting on the engine (boiling hot, needed a blanket to be able to rest on it). We sat like this for 16 hours. We weren’t the most unfortunate passengers however. An ancient woman in front of The Boy (who was actually sat ON the blanketed engine) had no backrest at all and twice, fell backwards in between his legs, onto his lap when she fell asleep! There were also two local men who stood behind our chairs. The entire time. So, shouldn’t complain really! Also, it has made a pretty good measuring stick by which we have compared every single journey since, making them all seem like a first class dream in comparison!

...Watching the driver pretend to fix the problem...

I must also mention the fact that, an hour in, we all had to pile off the bus and witnessed the driver examining the rear tyre as smoke plumes flooded out from under the bus. Comforting. Obviously we expected a new bus to arrive. Obviously, that aint happening! The driver poured water onto the rear axel (hisssssssssssss, crazy steam emerging) and piled us all on again. For the next 6 hours, I kept imagining us exploding into a crazy fireball as we hurtled around dangerous mountain passes into the path of oncoming vehicles.

As Paxse was just a stopover for us, the next day we jumped on another bus ready to complete our arduous journey to the 4,000 islands, a group of islands formed by the mighty Mekong as it widens and splits up along it’s journey to the ocean. After yesterday’s events, we were feeling positive (remember, how nothing will EVER be as dull and uncomfortable?) and jumped into our grown up seats with glee. We had obediently been taking our anti-malarials throughout our Lao journeys with no terrible side effects to be seen, and that morning was no different. However, today was the day The Boy’s tummy decided it was going to be a bit naughty and summoned an episode of serious nausea in him just as the bus set off. The heat and stuffy lack of fresh air worsened the situation, but just as he was pulling out a bag (to my alarm) to catch the nightmare, the bus came to a stop to let the first lot of people off. “Go, go, go!” I shouted and off he went to sort himself out. Fearing that the rest of the journey would be engulfed in an ocean of vomit, I thought it best to befriend my fellow passengers, in the hope that they wouldn’t actually hate us if The Boy did vomit en route. Luckily, the first people I turned to were some very friendly and heroic Candians who offered him a magical tablet that cures nausea and travel sickness! Within 30 minutes of The Boy reboarding the bus, he was all fine and dandy! 

...Laos' answer to overbooking?
Plastic chairs in the aisle..!

What Superheroes! They saved us all from a certain death via drowning in The Boy’s sick. It was a good job too because after he reboarded, the driver produced 4 or 5 plastic chairs to put in the aisle for the extra passengers to sit on. There was no way The Boy was getting off that bus once we began rolling again!

...Our Canadian heroes, Randi and Quinn...
(Quinn and George seen here sporting trendy
leaf watches)

After leaving the bus and faffing around with an ATM, we managed to get onto a boat that took us to one of the 4,000 islands, Don Khon. We settled into a guesthouse and the following day, hired bikes to visit the waterfalls that we had heard were spectacular. Imagine our surprise when, as we cycled along, we hear a friendly voice calling us over! 

It was the Canadian couple we met on the bus! Our superheroes! Randi and Quinn became firm friends fast, to the point where we actually moved in to the room next door to them and spent every waking moment in their presence! We werehonoured to meet their ‘Lao family’, a local family who they have been visiting for a few years, and had some really wonderful times all together.

...Before the combing...

One day we swam out to a sandbar in the Mekong and I spent a few hours with a comb and a ton of conditioner, trying to comb out the many dreadlocks that had accumulated in The Boy’s hair over the months, thanks to a combination of very curly hair and no brushing. The waterfalls, by the way, were indeed spectacular. We had a good laugh inagining the French, with their grand plans of using the Mekong to transport stuff up and down Lao, arriving to the waterfalls and gazing at them in dismay. “Zut Alors!” they might have said, as they scrumpled up their blueprints angrily. Back to the drawing board!

...The waterfalls...

SO there we have it. In Laos, we have traveled via bike, inner tube, bus, boat and of course, swimming.

I also did a fair bit of running, especially when I discovered the biggest spider I have ever seen, casually chilling in the corner of the room. Even the Lao man who owned the guesthouse wouldn’t go near it, which told me it was genuinely horrific.

4,000 islands was our final Lao destination, and after 9 wonderful days, (extended from 4 after meeting our new bezzies) we set off to discover Cambodia! 
But that’s for another time. Time is getting on and we all need a nice cup of tea and a little sleepy.

Robert Louis Stevenson once said:

“I travel not to go anywhere, but to go.

I travel for travel’s sake.

The great affair is to move.”

I don’t think Robert ever backpacked around South East Asia…

Love Hannan xxx

P.S. CLICK HERE to read about Laos and the secret war. CLICK HERE to find out how they are working towards a bombie-free country.

P.P.S. Also...THIS happened...and it's my favourite photo ever. EVER.