The Micro-est of Adventures on The South Downs

There’s nothing more liberating than a backpack and no plan. Or in the case of last night, a backpack and a rough plan. A very rough plan. I had promised myself I would do a microadventure – And this is the microest of microadventures. 

The premise was simple – Walk off onto the South Downs, into the darkness and find somewhere to camp, from where I could watch the sun rise over Brighton. I had all I needed; Warm clothes, head torch,  bivvy bag, sleeping bag, some homemade chilli wraps, water, a hip flask full of Jagermeister, and a steely determination to withstand a sudden and unexpected dumping of snow (IN APRIL!!!!!), and the ghosts, vampires, and doggers I had been warned about.

Supplies for the micro-est of microadventures

I have lived in this area of Sussex for the last year, since returning from nearly a year in New Zealand. But, purely down to bone idleness I had yet explored the area. This made navigating the Downs by torch light rather difficult. Navigate rabbit holes – Check. Avoid electric fences – Check. Avoid getting attacked (or nearly attacked) by cows again – Check. Avoid falling down a steep slope – Check. Avoid setting up camp in a bed of stingy nettles – Oh. I got off lightly, my left hand taking the brunt of it. To ease the itching I left my hand dangling out into the cold night through the hole intentionally left open for my mouth and nose (I’m not such a fan of condensation and tend to get a little claustrophobic in a fully zipped bivvy) and set out about getting merry on jager, full on chilli wraps and watching the bright stars of the night sky in between intermittent cloud cover. It was bliss. I slowly nodded off, and aside from the occasional stir (fear of the doggers/vampires/ghosts of course), slept through until sunrise.

A rather blurry view of Brighton

Another view from my night's 'bed'

I woke, cleared camp, and sat down on Maria (my backpack), sipping water, waiting for that elusive bright orange glow in the east to take over from the bright crescent moon which had accompanied me all night long. I wasn’t disappointed. There’s something greatly invigorating about welcoming in the sun on a crisp spring (Who am I trying to kid? It’s still winter!) morning. I surveyed the scene and imagined everyone waking up for a day of work after a cosy night in bed. They may have been less tired than I was, but I doubt they were as invigorated as I was.

And so I made the 2hour walk back home, avoiding all of last night’s hazards and made it home in time for breakfast. Pan au chocolate and orange juice accompanied by The Naked and Famous on the stereo– Just what the doctor ordered!

Until next time (With better photos, I promise) :)

Hitching to Bratislava (PT 1)

The great thing about hitch-hiking is the not knowing. The not knowing where you’ll end the night, not knowing how long your next lift is, not knowing what your next lift will be (Harley Davidson in NZ anyone?), and not knowing the person that’ll pick you up – The outlooks and knowledge you can learn, or (hopefully not) get sick of!

However, with a delayed start, a hitching partner in tow (hello Danny!) and a deadline to adhere to, getting to Bratislava in four days was always going to be a big ask. I did however believe it could be done. It had taken me four days to get to Gdansk just the year before, and how much difficulty does one extra person (a bloke! Dun dun duuuuhn) really add?

Danny was going to hitch from Chorley to Brighton and meet me down the pub for a quick one or two, before we’d set off on the Saturday morning. However, add my lunchtime jagerbomb, and subsequent after work jagerbombs, with Danny’s very slow movements (Warrington in four hours), the Saturday morning ferry to Dieppe was never going to happen.

Then we ended up having a quick pint or two on the Saturday, which turned into 10 or so and a visit to Brighton Pride. A fight with a lesbian and a few jagerbombs later we were staggering back to mine at 9.30am Sunday… after the departure of the morning ferry. The Sunday evening ferry it would have to be!

Upon arriving into Dieppe we quickly set about finding somewhere to camp. We spotted the ideal farmer’s field, just a minute from the roadside. Only when we set up the tent did we realise it was a manure covered field. Just a couple of hours in and we already stank!! But it was time to dust off our thumbs and head to Slovakia!

The first day was a frustrating affair, short lift after short lift, getting dropped off in town centres, and suffering from frustratingly long waits… I started to doubt we’d make Bratislava by Thursday. We pitched up in another farmer’s field and I dreamt of the following day ahead… Roll on day two!

A Weekend In Rural Wales

It dawned on me on the train up to Liverpool that I’ve really not seen much of the country I was born in, have grown up in, and lived most of my life in. Or, at least, I’ve seen not much of the pretty, countrysidey sorta stuff. And so, after a quick text or two later to Alex we were on our way to (hastily) organising a trip to deepest, darkest, rural Wales. And we were going to stay in a Yurt! Just like the Mongolians!

Following my time in New Zealand I’d argue that there are not many places in the world that can rival the beauty and serenity of the South Island; but Michael and ChaNan’s ‘Eco Retreat’ (http://www.ecoretreats.co.uk ) achieved just that.

7 hours after leaving Brighton & Hove, and a few wrong turns, u-turns and near misses later we found ourselves driving down the forestry track to the site; Our first glimpse of the tipis and yurts in the cool Welsh rain was a sight to behold – Not an electricity pylon, house, or even tarmac road in sight. Paradise!

We quickly settled in and took a short, but steep walk up (one of) the nearby hills and gazed, exhausted and excitedly at the natural beauty in front of us. Fluffy white clouds set against a rich blue sky, lush green hills and the odd waterfall or two. It was so incredibly beautiful. We both stood, and when tiredness got the better of us, sat, there watching the sheep below us go about their business. And once Alex had managed to check us in on Facebook after finding a little bit of mobile signal (maybe we weren’t that secluded!) we gingerly headed downhill back to camp. Alex thought it’d be best to go down on her bum, front, and any part of her body that wasn’t her walking legs! I may have also fallen over once or twice too…

Our life in camp revolved around chopping wood (badly – my wrists still hurt!), lighting the fires (again, badly) star gazing, taking ridiculous cold showers, chasing and evading sheep and generally just enjoying what nature had to offer, whilst not worrying about the stresses of work, having to be somewhere, and all that sort of lark.

 After a stray sheep (or maybe it was a rabbit?) woke us up at about midnight on the first night we ventured outside to look up at the night sky – The clearest night sky I have witnessed within the UK!  It was like a fairy had sprinkled dust up there. There were that many stars. And they were so bright; brighter than Doris Day (Sun shines brighter than Doris Day… *ahem*)! It was truly stunning and something you really cannot see in the South East due to light pollution – Which really is a pity.

On the second night we once again had a sheep intrusion. We managed to get the indoor fire (in the wood burner) going a little too well, and because of the smoke, we had to leave the Yurt doors open all night (for fear of poisoning ourselves with smoke inhalation!). Come about 3am a little Dolly The Sheep was brazen enough to walk into OUR yurt! We had been trying to befriend them all trip, but this was taking the friendship thing a little bit too far! I still hate it when one of my jebby mates calls/texts me late at night (even though I may (occasionally) do it myself) , let alone a sheep I’ve just met, freely wandering in. Baaaahhhh Ram You little sheepy head!

Despite our successes with the indoor fire, we weren’t so lucky with the outdoor one. The first night’s attempt went so poorly we ended up cooking inside. The second night’s fire went – but took a lot of effort, and poor Alex was constantly breathing life into the fire whilst I swanned off to an hour of meditation offered by the camp site. She complained of light headedness when I got back – And she hadn’t even touched the Pinot Grigio…Yet!

And so, following a weekend of hill walking, and simply just getting back to nature (albeit in a rather posh way) we felt both invigorated and relaxed – And ready to explore more of the UK! Next stop…The Scottish Isles? Hopefully Miss Lyons won’t sing so much next time…

Piccie below – More to come soon!


Our Yurt - Next to the stream, nestled in the Welsh Mountains.

Bluff and Orca

Five hours after my first lift I arrived into Bluff, New Zealand's southern most town. On first appearances Bluff is a place that looks down on it's luck - A grotty harbour town with empty shops and closed down hotels. It epitomised my gloomy mood following attempts to hitch a ride out of Dunedin.

But first impressions  can be deceiving, and following my first good night's sleep in quite a while, I was ready to explore Bluff the next morning.

The sea was calm, the birds cheerfully tweeting, fishing boats were going about their business, and the day-trippers were getting their photos taken at the yellow distance sign - It's 4810km to the South Pole, and 1401km to Cape Reinga, New Zealand's most northerly point.

Bordering the Bluff coastline is Bluff Hill, with walking tracks heading off in all directions. In times gone by it has been used by Maoris as a whaling post, and by the military as a lookout - The 'gun pits' with their grey concrete daubed in grafitti look quite out of place on the tree covered hill, but provided a great chance to explore. And explore them, in their small entirety, I did!

I walked and explored the area for a good four or five hours - Nothing particularly exciting about that. But, on my walk back along the coast, with a sheer drop into the ocean on my right and forest to my left, I heard an extra loud splash. I looked, and could see nothing (at first). Not even a freak wave. Then something caught my eye in the water - A whale? I continued looking, and there in front of me an Orca came up for air! A brief, but exciting glimpse. My first orca sighting! I watched as the fin settled back into the water and the orca swam off. With an extra bounce in my step I bounded off back to the bakcpackers.

And tomorrow, after a call to the British embassy, I'll be hitting the road to Queenstown! Bring it on!

A Night Under The Stars

I'd been on the Inter Islander ferry three or so months ago - Going the opposite way, upto Wellington to look for work, and a flat share. Now 'm back on it and looking forward to new adventures, exploring the South Island again.

I hadn't an idea where I wanted to go when I first disembarked, so I asked the first few lifts to take me somewhere nice. They did. Three lifts, and one travel companion later, I was in the mountains near Motueka, bedding down for a night under the stars - Just me, my bivvi bag and the wilderness. I was in the middle of nowhere - No cars, no other people, no streetlights - Just me and the clearest night sky I have ever seen! I witnessed multiple shooting stars, and I swear, with each blink of an eye, more stars presented themselves to me. I was so amazed, mesmerised, fascinated, whatever you will, by the sky that, despite the threat of rain, I left the zip on the bag open - Even the many bites I woke up to in the morning couldn't dampen my spirit.

And in the morning, after about 5 or 6 hours sleep I made my way down to the creek - About a minute away from my bed for the night - for fresh drinking water and a wash. I was in heaven! Freezing cold heaven, but heaven all the same!

I spent the next few days hitching rides between rivers and beaches along the north and east coasts; topping up my tan in Kaiteriteri, witnessing seals in the wild on the deserted beaches just outside Kaikoura, and marvelling at Gore Bay's wild waves. I then decided it was time to head to Dunedin - It was time for a beer or six.

My lift to Dunedin was with Cam, a 17yr old lad, who'd just returned to school after the 3month summer/Christmas break! The time flew by as we chatted about the great hikes, fishing and hunting in the Oamaru/Dunedin areas. I was quite envious of all the pursuits Kiwis get up to in the great outdoors.

*Sorry, no pictures - My camera's still good for nothing except drunken pics on a night out*

A (very) Brief Update

Well, it's been quite a while since my last blog post, so I'll have a go at very briefly summarising since leaving The Sandcastle; New Zealand have won the World Cup, I've lived in, worked in, and since left Wellington, I've met some fantastic people, I'm still poor, got drunk a lot (probably related to the previous point), and I now find myself back in the South Island.

Now I'm back on the road intention is to try and keep this regularly updated. Let's see how that goes.

The Sandcastle

"You don't wanna kip out in the open tonight. It's going to rain. Go on up the hill over there and speak to Steve - He'll be able to sort you out with work and accomodation."

And thanks to bumping into Steve's mate Joe, on the beach, I found myself Wwoofing at The Sandcastle. And how amazing my time at The Sandcastle has been!  In return for only four hours(ish) work a day I get amazing food and a roof over my head. The work has been varied - Path building, fence building (and taking down), sheep moving, yoga hall building (sort of), and gardening. But that's only the half of it.

On the first Sunday here I was given the opportunity to take part in rowing on a Waka - The canoe type boat which the Maoris arrived in New Zealand on - with Steve, his kids, and Claire. We were one person down, but that didn't prevent us doing more than a few rounds of the nearby harbour. The unique design of the Waka all but prevents a capsizing in this situation, and despite my clumsiness, we stayed up right! But my arms and shoulders were soon on fire and my (lack of technique) quickly under fire from those towards the back of the boat. This only got worse as my fatigue grew. And yesterday I took my second spell on the Waka. My technique hasn't improved, and I gave the boat a bit of a battering, but we did at least manage to make it out of the harbour! And it's great to take part in something uniquely Kiwi!

Before and after sailing a ritual takes place. You must place your hands on the boat and (in my case at least) read from a script, in which the boat is blessed. Following this you touch foreheads and noses with your fellow sailors. I, being a reserved Brit, struggled slightly with this aspect!

I've actually found myself staying at a bit of a hippy haven. Shortly after Abby and Jillian, a couple of American girls touring New Zealand, arrived it was the full moon. Steve and his friends introduced us to the medicine wheel. As far as I can gather, the medicine wheel is a shamanic Native American Indian tradition involving a fire ceremony and paying tribute to various spirits. We ate, had a horoscope reading and then did a tour of the wheel, before sharing travel stories and enjoying a cuppa chai. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed it all.

And it was all hands to the pump in order to get the yoga hall perfected before Steve hosted his inaugural yoga retreat. As a thankyou for the work we were doing Steve had arranged for us to be in on the first session. The first session consisted of going through some basic iyenga yoga poses followed by a lengthy relaxation - in which Sika, Steve's friend, a world renowned didgeridoo player played a major part. Whilst we were all slowly moulding into the floor, he was playing and swooshing his didgeridoo over us. It was actually quite surprising to be able to see the vibrations through my closed eyes. No, really.

And so, when I haven’t been hippying it up, or working I’ve been taking the opportunity to explore the area. Hitching rides all over the place, to Wharariki Beach, Wainui falls  and swimming in sea and exploring the many beautiful beaches in the area, with their golden sands and limestone cliffs.

And now, looking forward to Monday, when I’ll be hitching to Picton for the ferry to Wellington – Looking for a job and somewhere to live.
  

Wharariki Beach

Pohara Beach

Me at Tata Beach

Wainui Falls