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Weeks 41 to 50
But I can still very clearly remember the sense of apprehension as I set off on that first journey, not really knowing how I would manage, and how things might turn out. I remember that feeling so well, because I am feeling it again now, as I fly out of Perth again tomorrow morning on another seven month journey. And once again things are only half-planned, and I wonder how it will all work out. And yet although I feel slightly apprehensive, I am very excited too, and looking forward to new travels and adventures, to meeting new people and seeing new places. I feel that I have sort of settled back into an easy routine here in Perth. I travelled for the first 28 weeks of my 100 weeks, but have had some sort of stable base now for the last 12 weeks, and it is a bit of a challenge to pack my bags and hit the road again. But it is time to set off once more, first stop France, then England again, and onward from there.... watch this space!
So far, things have progressed slowly, as I really have not known how to set about this goal and I know I have procrastinated a bit. However, I know I now need to progress, and while on the two day drive from Perth to Exmouth recently to go and see the whalesharks, an idea slowly developed. And here it is .... 50 pictures from my travels, each picture presented as a limited edition of just 50 prints, individually numbered and signed. That's a total of 2500 pictures altogether. Each individually signed and numbered picture can be secured for a donation of AU$20 (+ p&p), and if I manage to sell them all, that's a grand total of $50,000 raised, another goal achieved, and you can be a part of it! In fact, I simply can't do this one without you!! To find out more, go to the following page: http://www.100goals100weeks.com/getInvolved_Fundraising.php To receive your individually numbered, personally signed unique 100goals photo, make your selection by ticking the appropriate tickbox (you can order more than one picture if you wish - any number of pictures can be sent at no extra postage cost), click on the "View Order" button, and fill the order form. Each picture is printed in 18x13cm (7" x 5") in high definition from the original 12Mb digital file, and will be personally signed and numbered in the order that donations are received. The full amount of your $20 will go direct to bowel cancer research, and hopefully prevent more avoidable deaths. I am launching my fundraising effort at the end of Week 40, with the first 25 pictures currently being available online now. I plan to release a new picture every two weeks, the final picture being available at Week 90, with just ten weeks to go to ensure I have raised all the money I aim to raise. If you wish to buy a low numbered picture, or perhaps even #1 of one of the sets of 50, you can pre-order forthcoming pictures up to six weeks before they are released. Again, take a look at the fundraising webpage for more details, and to place an order: http://www.100goals100weeks.com/getInvolved_Fundraising.php Almost all my other goals so far have been entirely up to me, to do something, to go somewhere, to see something..... but this is one goal that is up to you, I simply can't do it without your help. I would also be grateful if you could let friends and family know about this, and any other suggestions you have to spread the word will be gratefully received too. Perhaps you have a big mailing list of friends and contacts, or know of an organisation that would be worth contacting to spread the word? Thank you. Below is a small selection of some of the first pictures that will be available to order. View them all by clicking here:-                   To order, please go to the following page: http://www.100goals100weeks.com/getInvolved_Fundraising.php
And so I set off on my new travels yesterday, confident that my travelling experience would serve me well, and all would go as smoothly as on my previous trip.    But it quickly became apparent that I am a bit rusty, as less than two hours into this journey, I made my first mistake. I didn't discovered it until later though, when I first viseted the bathroom on the flight from Perth to Kong Kong. I spotted a powerpoint there, and thought with amusement that it would be an ideal place to plug in my laptop to recharge, the only disadvantage being that you would have to lock yourself in the lavatory for the whole re-charging period. Almost immediately on the heels of that first thought was the realisation that I had left my camera battery and it's charger hanging from a powerpoint at Gate 5 in Perth International Airport. Fortunately for now I have a spare, fully-charged battery with me, but now have no way of re-charging it. I will have to get on eBay UK and order something to be delivered to my brother's house by the time I arrive, and in the meantime, hope I bump into someone else that uses a Canon 960IS !! Later in the day, with about 6 hours to kill in Hong Kong, I relaxed in the departure area, and as the final call for the 23.55 flight to London Heathrow was made I casually strolled up to the gate. "No, no, no! You are on the BA flight." What?!! There are two flights to Heathrow, both leaving at 23.55? Yes, and my gate is on the far side of the airport, and is probably receiving it's own final boarding call! And so I found myself, confident, cool, experienced traveller that I am, sprinting through Hong Kong airport as midnight approached, with disastrous financial scenarios running through my head! However, I took the time to confirm the gate number at the first departures board that I came to, and was incredibly relieved to see that the flight was now scheduled to leave at 00.35. I was glad to be able to walk the rest of the way to the gate. I really need to get back into the travelling mindset. After a long cramped flight from Hong Kong to London, and a much more comfortable short hop from there I arrived in Nice at around 11am yesterday morning, about 35 hours after I set off the previous day. I called Pierre from the airport, and arranged to meet him at lunchtime in the centre of Nice. His wife Valerie had contacted me by email, after following my adventures on the internet, and they had very kindly invited me to stay with them. So after dropping off my bags and taking a quick shower I went for a stroll around the beautiful seafront area of Nice.    I also climbed a steep hill to an old fort which offers a spectacular overview of the whole city.     Heading down through the old part of the city was very atmospheric, the streets a maze of narrow winding passageways between tall, brightly painted old French buildings.     After a quick beer after work with Pierre, we headed home, and I finally met Valerie, and their son Thibault. They cooked me a wonderful barbeque dinner, and offered to take me for a drive along the coast. I had to politely decline, I was shattered, and I think I was asleep the second my head hit the pillow. But I was wide awake again at 5am! Oh dear! Hopefully I will get over the jetlag soon!
Cannes is another beautiful south of France coastal town, and the place was packed with all sorts of people wearing festival passes and badges. I felt like one of the only people that did not have some form of ID around my neck. However, when I arrived at the front of the Palais de Festival I wasn't the only tourist taking snaps of the final piece of the red carpet being rolled into place.       The atmosphere is great, and I wandered happily along the seafront which is packed with movie industry tents. Around the other side of the building, where huge yachts fill the harbour, most emblazoned with adverts for different movies or studios, I found a huge gaggle of press on stepladders shouting over the fence at people arriving in limos. Unfortunately I did not recognise any of the new arrivals.       I have been emailing all of the movie industry contacts I have, which really isn't that many, most of whom I know from when the ALife4Sale publicity was at it's peak. My actual Cannes Film Festival goal is to get into an event here, or see a screening of a new movie. But the problem is that in order to do this, you need official accreditation, and to get accreditation, you need to be part of the movie industry. I am hoping to find someone who has a spare ticket for an event, and hopefully get in to something under their wing. There are a few potentially good contacts to call this morning. Fingers crossed! I never thought it would be so difficult to get to see a movie! After returning from Cannes, Pierre had some tickets for the big game of soccer, between local rivals Nice and Marseilles, and along with Thibault, we haded along to the match. The atmosphere was electric, and the local fans were in fine voice, singing their hearts out behind the goal. However, there was disappointment all round as local team Nice failed to find any sort of form, and were beaten 2 - 0 by the much stronger Marseilles team.    By the end of the match my eyes were drooping, and I was off to bed pretty soon after we got home. I have managed to sleep in a little longer this morning, but am still up and about, wide awake, long before anyone else! 
I woke early again, feeling slightly feverish, and wondered casually if I might have caught the swine flu virus already. When I passed through Hong Kong the airport resembled a hospital wing, with about a third of the travellers wearing surgical masks, notices everywhere displaying dire health warnings, and temperature testing stations set up in several locations for paranoid incoming travellers. I was looking forward to a quiet day at Valerie and Pierre's apartment, and wanted to catch up on some emails. My main priority was to try and sort out some new accomodation, as Valerie and Pierre have family arriving today, and they need the space. I had had a few contacts from people who had suggested that they may be able to help out, but so far nothing had been confirmed, so I re-emailed a couple of people. My first contact was Rikki, who runs Exhibition Consultants International Ltd. and builds stands for the film festival, among other things. He had been told about me by Philippe from EIE Global, who helped out with my Eiffel Tower goal back in September last year. My second contact was Adrian, who first contacted me via the website way back when I first started my goals quest. At the time he lived in Cannes, but has since moved to London. He still has many contacts here, and thought he could possibly find some accomodation for me in Cannes itself. Adrian was quickly on the case, and put me in touch with Lao from Cannes-based accomodation agency Azur Alive, and Lao said that he would be glad to help, and that I could use one of their apartments at no charge! Marvellous! I arranged to meet him at around 3pm that afternoon. Almost straight afterwards Rikki called me, and although he had been unable to track down any accomodation, he had a contact from the UK Film Council who would like to meet me in the afternoon, with the possibility of a ticket to a screening. It looked like things were coming together, perhaps. After a quick shower and shave Valerie dropped me off at the train station, and I met Lao at his office. He took me to see a lovely fourth floor apartment right in downtown Cannes, and left me with the key. I can use the place for about 5 days, and then he will find me another. Fantastic. Next I went to meet Rikki in front of the Palais, and he produced a pass for me, and we went through security, into the festival building itself. I almost felt like my goal had been achieved, as I was already somewhere that the general public could not access. We walked through the huge marketplace area where stands from movie production companies from all over the world are set up to sell their wares to movie buyers. We made our way to the International Village area, and at the UK Film Centre, Rikki introduced me to Tina from the UK Film Council. She is Head of Industry Relations, and as well as helping me with my goal, hoped that the Film Council might benefit from some publicity too. She rang a couple of people to set up some possible interviews, and offered me a ticket to the movie which was going to screen that evening at 10.30pm.       At first I didn't quite grasp the significance of the ticket I was given, but when Rikki saw it, he was amazed. The movie being screened was the premiere of the first movie in the Film Festival competition, called "Fish Tank", written and directed by Andrea Arnold. Andrea won the Prix de Jury in 2006 with her first movie "Red Road", and "Fish Tank" is her highly anticipated follow-up. Because the UK Film Council co-funded both of these movies, they had some pretty good tickets for the screening, and my seat was in the "Orchestre" section. "That's right at the front, up the red carpet and in through the main door," Rikki exclaimed! "You'll need a tuxedo!" Hmmmm! However, somewhat coincidentally, Eric, a producer in Hollywood had called the day before I left Australia, and he had put me in touch with an actor/writer/filmmaker who would be here in Cannes. I had spoke to Bobby Leigh earlier in the day, and was hoping to meet him later, and he had suggested that if I managed to get a ticket, I could borrow his suit, if he wasn't using it at the time. I tried Bobby a couple of times, but his phone was off - he was obviously having a busy first day. I went looking for a suit hire shop, and soon found one pretty close to my apartment. At 7pm I gave Bobby a final try, and upon discovering that his phone was still off, I went ahead and was relieved of 90 Euros for the hire of a tux and shoes for the evening. I was going to have to stay in Cannes for the night, as the movie would finish long after the last train, and I called Valerie to let her know. At the apartment I showered and washed as best I could, but had no toiletries at all with me, and no more cash either, as it had all gone on the suit, and a sandwich for dinner. The apartment was so empty of anything at all that I had to dry off after the shower with handfulls of toilet paper! All my stuff was still back in Nice. Eventually I suited up and headed down to La Croisette, the seafront area, and wandered around soaking up the atmosphere, which was electric. I joined the line of other smartly dressed movie-goers, and made my way through several security and ticket checks. Many others with different coloured tickets to mine were directed off through side entrances, but I kept waving my ticket about, and kept getting waved through, until I was at the foot of the red carpet. To either side were huge crowds of photographers, but they were obviously waiting quietly for the stars to arrive. The walk up the carpet was wonderful, and I stopped at the top to look back down. Many others were taking photos, despite warnings on the ticket that photography was not allowed, and so I joined in too. What a wonderful atmosphere! My ticket granted me access through the main doors, and I was escorted right to the front of the cinema and told that I could sit wherever I liked. I picked the front row!    On the huge screen you could watch others arriving on the red carpet, and the seats slowly filled around me. Eventually the director, Andrea Arnold arrived with some of the stars from the movie, and I watched on the big screen as they made their way up the steps outside. It was interesting to see their progress live through the lobby area, and then turn around and see them come into the room, to a huge round of applause. Eventually, when all were seated again the movie started. It is a very English, very gritty study of a girl growing up on a rough housing estate in southern England, and was very compelling and well acted. At the end there was a huge standing ovation, which was fun to be part of. Afterwards, we had to wait for the stars to go back down the steps, and then followed suit. I met a Chinese girl who appeared to be on her own too, so we swapped cameras and took plenty of pictures of each other. She seemed to be as thrilled and excited as I was to be there. At around 1am I wandered back to the apartment through the busy streets with a huge smile on my face. What a way to achieve my Cannes goal! I couldn't possibly have imagined being so successful in aquiring a ticket for a screening. What a dream come true!  Huge thanks to all who have helped to make this goal possible:- Phillipe, Rikki and Tina for the making the ticket a reality. Adrian and Lao for sorting out my accomodation. Eric and Bobby for their advice and support. And of course, Valerie, Pierre and Thibault for their wonderful kindness and accomodation in Nice. Valerie had contacted local English-speaking Riviera Radio on my behalf, and this morning I was scheduled for an interview with them at 9am. I put my suit on again - I had paid 90 Euros for it and was determined to get value for money!! - and headed down to the huge Hotel Martinez on the seafront. There I met Peter, who transmits live daily from the lobby there, and was soon live on air. It seemed to go pretty well, and when I eventually got back to Nice Thibault said he had heard the interview and said it had sounded great.  What an amazing 24 hours! What an awesome way to achieve a goal! What an adventure!
As I have progressed through my list of goals I have endeavoured, as much as possible, to share my time and adventures with others, and by doing so truly believe I have enjoyed much happier experiences. I have met some wonderful people, and done some amazing things, sometimes as part of achieving my goals, and other times completely non-goal-related. I have completed a few of my goals on my own, but when compared to other experiences, would have much preferred to have been accompanied, and had someone to share the joy and thrill of achievement with me. And so I am now planning the US-based next leg of my trip. My first port of call is Miami, and I expect to fly in around the 16th July. South of there, at Key Largo, is a place called Jules' Underwater Hotel, where I have booked a night under the sea on Saturday 18th July.  The night in the underwater hotel costs $375, but there is a $25 discount currently available. I have booked my place for the night of the 18th, and am keen to have someone else come along to join in, and help me achieve another goal. The rooms look small and comfortable, and are fitted out with bunk beds, so no issues there, unless you are a loud snorer!! Take a look on Jules' website here: Jules' Underwater Hotel    If you are interested in coming along, please contact me through the "Contact Me" page. Please note, you will need to be a certiified diver, or there is an additional fee of $120, and some training involved! As well as enjoying sharing the experience with someone else, I will also enjoy the small added bonus of saving myself the 15% single occupancy surcharge, and if you are able to help with transport to Key Largo from Miami and back, that would also be a great help, as I have nothing arranged for this either. As always, there is an open invitation to join in with pretty much anything else I have planned, and if you can think of any way you may be able to help out too, I would be very grateful. See an outline of current plans here: http://www.100goals100weeks.com/goals_Plan.php Regards, Ian
This place is huge, and every time I go for a wander I find something new and interesting. I asked Rikki where I could go with the pass, and apparently it will get me into most areas except movie screenings, and so I have been exploring. The pass really does seem to get me pretty-much anywhere, and I have adopted the tactic of simply marching around with a confident air, and looking surprised when even asked to show my pass. I am usually politely waved through into a new area to explore.    The other day I somehow found my way up to the rooftop terraces, which have a spectacular view across the harbour, which is jam-packed with multi-million dollar yachts.    Rikki has been a fantastic help here, and without him I would be in the crowd outside, straining to get a peek over the fences, and wondering just what goes on in here. He put me in touch the other day with Rupert, managing director of Motion Picture House, who just happened to be searching for someone, on behalf of CNN, who is going to chase cheeses down the big hill in Gloucester next week. Rupert put me in touch with Don in London. Rupert is also working on a web-based show here in Cannes, about the festival, and after a quick cup of coffee, and a chat to producer Stephen, I found myself in front of the camera being interviewed by Oscar. The interview can be found here on InsideCannes.com Haha, as I am midway through writing this blog, I have found myself ejected from my first festival location. I made the mistake of leaving my comfy press desk to go and get a glass of water, and coming back in past the security guard, was told that without a press pass I could not come in. It took a bit of explaining to retreive my computer from inside, and the guy practically stood over me as I packed my stuff up. However, every cloud has a silver lining, and just below the wi-fi place I found the Nespresso bar which gives out the most fantastic free coffee! I have been a regular visitor there ever since, and am working my way steadily through their extensive coffee menu. I had to move house midway throughthe week, and was a bit disappointed, as I had settled in nicely to my city centre apartment. But I went back to see Lao at Azure Alive again, and he said he had another vacant place that I could use. And believe it or not, this one is ever nicer. It's a very modern luxury apartment with a huge balcony overlooking the main street, Rue d'Antibes. Fantastic.    I have wandered around the town and up the hill in the old part of the city. I took a bus out into the hills to visit Jean-Claude, where I stayed last time I was in Nice. I have visited the film festival a few times and hung out with Rikki, watching UK show Newsnight being filmed, and have met up again with Valerie and family here in Cannes.    All in all it's been a very relaxing and pleasurable week. I could get used to this sort of lifestyle! But I have to get up early tomorrow and catch the train to Marseilles, and then a flight to London. On with the next part of the adventure. Once again, a big thanks to all who have made my stay in the south of France so much fun. A bientot, mes amis!
But my playing has improved considerably, and I continue to practice when I can. I learned the technique of circular breathing, which is something I have been unable to do for a long time, although I would never dream of claiming to have mastered the didgeridoo. As with any such skill, I don't think there is ever a point when you stop learning and trying to improve, and that is how I view life too, always trying to learn how to play the game a bit better than you could previously! And my "Learn to speak conversational French" goal is another that is difficult to decide exactly when the goal has been achieved. But over the past year I have had quite alot more interaction with the French language than I have had in all the years since I left school. And I really do feel that I have improved. My friend Mel in Perth is originally from France, so I have had some help from her. I spent a couple of weeks in France last year at the start of the 100goals trip, and did my whole paragliding course in French. I met French football coach Philippe Troussier in Japan, and we had quite a lengthy chat in French, which I was very pleased with. (Doug and Mike, who were there as that interview and chat was filmed both reckoned that I could have claimed my French goal as completed there and then! More about that day here.) And now I have been back in France again for the last couple of weeks, visiting the Cannes Film Festival. I have managed to do pretty-much everything I have needed to in French in the time have been here, including all my day-to-day purchases, as well as the less commonly done things, such as hiring a tuxedo! But it was actually while wearing the tuxedo that I made my greatest steps forward in conversational French! The movie I watched, called "Fish Tank" was a gritty, real-life, English-slum-housing-estate drama, and as such was liberally sprinkled with some choice expletives! But one of the best things about the movie was that it was subtitled in French, so the local audience could appreciate it too. I thoroughly enjoyed the movie, but was somewhat distracted by trying to remember some of the more choice phrases in French. The next time I spoke to Mel I ran some of my new vocabulary past her, and she was pretty impressed at my top-level French swearing ability. I have two particularly high-level French swear words in my vocabulary now, and have been strongly advised not to try to fit them into any sort of French dinner table chatter! So while I will be the first to admit that my French conversational abilities are somewhat stilted, on a one-to-one basis, I am certainly able to communicate at a reasonably satisfying level. I can't possibly keep up with a group of French people chatting together, but can often get a good idea of what they are talking about. And this morning I fly out of France, having completed my last French-based goal. I don't imagine I will be back here, or have much more opportunity to speak French for the rest of my 100 weeks, and so am quite happy to finally tick this one as achieved. I will however always continue to practice and to try to improve my French, as I would like to become much more fluent. My thanks to all who have helped along the way. "Merci beaucoup."
So along with my brother Martin and partner Rachel, we headed westward out of London along the M4, and made it to the small village of Brockworth by around 8am. We found a place to get a coffee, and waited for the carpark field to open. Our first view of the hill, as we drove out of the village, had us slightly worried, as it looked very steep, but it wasn't until we actually arrived and scrambled up to the top that we realised just how steep it really is.    At the top of the hill Martin and I joined a crowd of others sat waiting for the first race. Tension and excitement was already building, and it wasn't even 10 o'clock, still over two hours to go before the action started! Eventually, when the burly security guards and event organisers arrived, we were all shepherded off to the side of the run, and formed some semblance of an orderly line, and sat to wait out the next couple of hours. We had managed to get a pretty good position, and I was reasonably confident of making it into the first race. There are only five downhill races in the day, four for men and one for women, and the number of competitors is strictly limited to fifteen per race. As the morning progressed the hillside filled up, and an estimated 5,000 people vied for position to get the best view of the upcoming events. The place was packed, and the line of potential competitors behind us was steadily growing. We had certainly been wise to arrive early, as there were going to be alot of disappointed people. Just before midday a light rain started, and made the whole hilside much slippier, and at about five minutes before midday they let the first fifteen through the little gate and onto the top of the hill. Both my brother and I made it through, despite the chaos at the front, as everyone tried to get in for race number 1. There was a huge cheer from the crowd as we lined up, and my heart was hammering - there was a real danger that this could end very painfully! After brief instructions on how the start would be conducted, the cheese was rolled, and we were off!    I think in my younger years I might have been alot quicker than I was yesterday, but my middle-aged common sense kicked in, and I ran with slightly more caution than many of the other young guys, most of whom were probably at least 20 years younger than my brother or I. I still found myself tumbling and sliding, completely out of control. It was impossible to stay on your feet, as the slope was so steep, and by now quite wet and slippy. Somehow though, I managed to make it down in one piece, my number one priority, but was one of the last in my race across the line. It's the taking part that counts, I told myself proudly at the bottom of the hill. The atmosphere at the bottom was fantastic as the winners collected their prizes and certificates, and we shook hands all round with the guys we had run with. It was only later, as the adrenaline began to wear off that I started to feel the cuts and scrapes on my arms, and the ache in my left shoulder. Compared to my brother though, who had chosen to wear shorts for some reason, I was relatively unscathed. This picture courtesy of Liezel, who we met in the crowd, and who kindly emailed me this through:-  We stayed at the bottom of the hill, and had an excellent view of the next two races. I think that if I had seen the carnage on the hill that race 2 produced, I might have been alot less inclined to run myself. One of the guys looked like he possibly dislocated or broke his shoulder, and there was quite a break before race 3 started, as he was carted off to hospital. Back at the top of the hill after race 3 there was another long break as another casualty was transported away - the rumour that ran through the crowd was that he had fallen out of a tree! He was taken away down the main slope, a tricky rescue operation in it's own right, his neck immobilised to prevent possible further damage. After race 4 we made an early exit to avoid the worst of the traffic chaos that would obviosly follow as everyone headed for home, and got away pretty quickly. And so, as pretty much all eccentric UK Bank Holiday Monday activities do, the day ended in a trip to hospital for the unfortunate few, and a headlong dash to the nearest pub for everyone else! What a fantastic day! Thanks to Martin for coming along and being foolish enought to come and run with me, to Rachel for getting us there and back, and to Sutty too for joining us too. Thanks also to the organisers for putting on such an incredible event! I have no idea how this continues to run without the Dept. of Health and Safety stepping in!! Fantastic!    There is a good article about the day on the SoGlos website, including some great video of each of the runs. Click the link below for the review, and take a look at the video below:- SoGlos 2009 Cheese Roll review
Rikki put me in touch with Rupert, and he put me in touch with Don at CNN in London. They wanted me to appear on their show this morning, but only if I had managed to be a competitor in the event. And so at 6am (another early start!) a CNN courtesy car came to collect me from Martin and Rachel's house, and whisked me into the central London studio, where I was wired up with a microphone, and told that I would be on in a few minutes. It had all been organised pretty quickly, and I had no idea what show I was going to be on, and I asked where and when it was going to be transmitted. "This is going out live, on CNN International, all over the world!" I was quite surprised at how calm I felt, but then after chasing cheeses down Cooper's Hill, this would be a breeze! There is a good video report on the CNN website of the cheese rolling day itself, and there is also a copy of the three minute segment I did too. Great fun! You can see them here:- http://edition.cnn.com/video/#
As meeting Richard is one of my goals, and I am planning to try to achieve that while here in the UK, I thought I better do a bit of a refresher course on his background. So just the other morning I set off for one of the book stores in Ealing town centre, but was also optimistically armed with my brother's library card too! On the way I walked past the Oxfam second-hand bookstore... "I wonder..." I thought to myself, and went in. There was the exact book I was looking for right in the centre of the first shelf of the biography section, almost as if it was waiting for me! And at a travellers bargain price of £1.99. Sorry Richard, I will buy a new copy one day, but I'm operating on a bit of a budget at the moment! I am well into the amazing and inspiring story of how Virgin developed initially from an idea for a student magazine, and grew eventually into a global business empire. And it is the unique and remarkable way in which Richard turns problems and obstacles around to his advantage, and comes up with some incredibly innovative solutions that has inspired me again. So here I am, wide awake at 3 o'clock in the morning, having been woken up by a mis-timed international SMS message. As I tried to get back to sleep, my brain started mulling over one of the problems I have been wrestling with for a few days now, and suddenly the answer just came to me! I am now wide awake, but it is the wrong time of day to put my solution into action, so I have decided to make good use of this time. And in a way, this blog itself is hopefully part making my idea work. The problematic goal I am currently working on is to gather 5 Ian Ushers together in one place. I have already attempted to achieve that goal once, in September last year, when I was last here in London. I made the mistake of assuming it would be relatively easy! It wasn't, and through various factors conspiring against me, didn't even manage to meet one other Ian Usher. There are several Ian Ushers spread around the UK, and I have managed to contact about six of them via Facebook, and have a few of them possibly interested in the idea of gathering a group of us. But I am facing a couple of problems. First of all, I have to accept that some of the Ians will have very little interest in the idea of actually meeting other Ian Ushers. It is a pretty random idea, and of course there is no guarantee that we will have anything at all in common, other than our shared name. And there are a few Ians that have not responded to my suggestion at all. My second problem is that the Ians are spread far and wide across the country, and have little incentive to travel halfway across the country, find accomodation for the weekend, and pay all other expenses, just in order to help some random travelling guy achieve a somewhat unusual goal. And so I think that I need to find some sort of sponsor, or possibly multiple sponsors, in order to make this happen. It would be impossible for me to fund all travel, accomodation, beer and food costs that this will incur, but I hope there are some people who might be able to help out. And this is as far as my thinking has got, with no real idea of how to go about finding these people, until I was woken by my phone this morning, and laid here turning the problem over in my mind. And the answer just came to me. I need to get onto a London-based radio station, ideally, I would imagine, onto a chatty, fun, breakfast show programme, and ask them to help me find the people out there in this great big city who can make this goal come to life. I have just over 3 weeks until the date I have set for the gathering of the Ian Ushers. I need to find a sponsor to get the Ians from wherever they to London on the 20th June, and then back home again the next day. I need somewhere for the Ians to sleep that night, and I need a venue for us to gather in, hopefully with some nibbles and beer! Surely it can't be to hard to do? My next job is to email several of the London-based radio stations. Watch this space....
Screw It, Let's Do It! Kitesurfing, Richard Branson and naked supermodels! Help needed... yes, again! And so it was with great excitement that I headed into central London this morning with my brother Martin. While back in Australia I had done some internet searching, and had found email addresses for several people at Virgin Blue, the Australian-based Virgin airline. I sent a couple of emails, and got a reply suggesting that I might be able to meet Richard next time he was in Australia. Unfortunately that wouldn't be until November 2009, and I was not sure that I would be back in the country by then. However, my email had been forwarded to a Virgin PR person in the UK, and I followed up by emailing her. I got a response from Richard's personal assistant, who said that Richard would be happy to meet me when he was next in Australia. While in Cannes, I heard rumours that Richard may be heading down to Monaco, which is just along the coast, for the Grand Prix, so sent another email to his PA, explaining where I was, and that I would also be in the UK for the following few weeks. I was amazed to get a response from Richard himself! He invited me to the unveiling of a plaque to commemorate the life of WWII fighter pilot, Douglas Bader, and suggested that I could then jump in the car with him afterwards as he headed for the airport. So Martin and I arrived early, and waited in the small city centre mews as the TV crews and the crowd gathered, watching the plaque get polished in preparation.    Eventually Richard arrived, and when he appeared to have a relatively quiet moment I took the opportunity to introduce myself. In terms of my hopes and expectations for this goal, I had already achieved what I set out to do, but Richard confirmed that I could join him after the ceremony for the trip to the airport.    The ceremony was interesting, and if you don't know the story of Douglas Bader, it is well worth reading. Despite the loss of both legs in an aeroplane crash in 1931, he went on to become one of the most successful war-time fighter pilots. There is also a movie about his exploits, called "Reach For The Sky", which I watched again just last week. A very inspiring man! Richard was there because he wanted to support the "Douglas Bader Foundation", which exists to advance and promote the physical, mental and spiritual welfare of persons who are without one or more limbs, or otherwise physically disabled. But he was also there because he had met Douglas Bader while he was a boy, as Douglas and his aunt Clare had been close friends. He told the amusing tale of how as a mischievious 7-year-old he had stolen Douglas's artificial legs while he was swimming, and had been chased by an irate legless Douglas dragging himself along after him! After the ceremony was over, Richard made his way back to his waiting car, and I joined him, and after a quick photo we headed towards Heathrow.  We spoke about many things, and I thoroughly enjoyed the half-an-hour I got to share with him. He is very down to earth, and easy to chat to. I asked him about current ventures, and was particularly interested in recent progress with the amazing Virgin Galactic project. He asked many questions about my goals, and I told him of a couple that I am currently working on, including my current fundraising efforts for Bowel Cancer Research, and my attempt to gather 5 Ian Ushers in one place! He made a very kind offer, and said that he would donate $500 to the Bowel Cancer Research and Awareness Institute, for every Ian Usher that I managed to gather, but only if I do manage to achieve my goal and gather a minimum of five of us!! Pressure is on now! Come on, Ians! Thanks to my brother once again for getting me to another goal on time, and of course, enormous thanks to Richard for fitting me in to his busy schedule, and allowing me to complete another goal in a manner way beyond any of my expectations. Thank you very much!
But there are still so many things unresolved at the moment, and I am feeling a bit like a plate spinning circus performer, rushing around between the various tasks I am trying to achieve, getting back to each just in the nick of time in order to prevent it all from coming crashing down. My month in England has got off to a good start, with the fantastic day at the cheese rolling hill, followed by a great meeting with Richard Branson. I have a wingwalk booked on the wings of a biplane on Saturday 20th July, and hope to follow that up on the evening with a gathering of 5 Ian Ushers. But I am still struggling slightly with this one. Despite several emails and phone calls to several London radio stations, I couldn't even get a reply from one of them, so at the moment, have not managed to find any help in terms of travel or accomodation for the other Ians. I think I have three of them confirmed for the Saturday, and hope they can still make it if I can't manage to organise any sponsorship! That would make a total of four of us, one more to convince to come along! So for the last few days I pottered around London, and met with a few interesting people. I was very pleased to finally meet Adrian in London. Adrian, originally from Zimbabwe, used to live in Cannes, and put me in touch with Lao there who sorted out my luxurious Cannes accomodation. I met Adrian and Helen in London, and we had a fantastic Thai meal. We had alot in common, and imagine we will share a few more beers together before I leave the UK. I also had a meeting with a literary agent in the city, which was very positive. He seemed very interested in the idea of a book about my travels, and had many questions. He has given me a bit of "homework" to do, so that he can go and try to sell the project. I will keep you updated of course, on any significant developments there. I also met with Jay and Rob from SweeMo.com. They contacted me while in France, and have a fantastic idea for a website they are developing. SweeMo is short for Sweet Moments, and the site is an auction site, much like eBay, but for unusual events and activities. I think it is a great idea, and listed the opportunity to join me for a night in an underwater hotel. I am very proud to find that I am now one of their "Featured Moments". Take a look here: www.SweeMo.com What started out as a business meeting in a pub ended up in a full evening out, more than a few beers, a lovely Vietnamese meal, and a dash to catch the last tube home. Check out how busy London pubs get in the picture below - and that's just on a Monday night.    On Wednesday I decided it was time to head north and visit mum, and friends back in Darlington and Scarborough. On the way up I visited Colin, who I had contacted through YouTube. He has something in his mate's field which may just help me achieve another of my goals. There is a picture below that might give you a little bit of a clue. More to follow later on the blog in about a week or so, quite possibly uploaded from a hospital bed!! I have also been out into town to buy some items for a goal I have managed to schedule for late August, and which needs some advance preparation. The middle picture shows the items I have bought... can you tell what it is yet? And finally, I have spent a significant part of the last two days organising the fundraising photographs. I got them all printed while down in London, and have been signing and numbering them. I have already had quite a few orders, and so far have raised $1500 from photo donations, which have now all been posted out. Huge thanks to all who have offered their support so far. More details here: http://www.100goals100weeks.com/getInvolved_Fundraising.php    I had thought I might manage to gather 5 Ian Ushers here near Darlington, as there are a couple of new Ian Ushers that have popped up on Facebook, and I have discovered that there are two in Newcastle, and two more in between Newcastle and Darlington. With me here in Darlington now, that means that there are five of us within a 40 mile radius!! I have only managed to contact one of the other four so far, and he is very busy this next week. This is proving to be one of the toughest goals so far!! I have also been frustrated by flight prices to Florida from the UK. In mid July, when I have to fly, the price for a one-way ticket is outrageous. I could fly return to Australia for the same price. But today I made a great leap forward, when after much searching I found a one-week fly/drive holiday to Orlando, and it is about half the price of a one-way ticket! So I get to Florida, have a car for the time I am there, and can just abandon the return flight, and I save a heap of money. Fantastic! Does anyone need a flight from Orlando to Gatwick on 23rd July? There is going to be a vacant seat, as I will already be in Mexico by then!
   I look back on those years as some of the most fun-filled days of my life, and often have mixed emotions when I come back to town. I love the place, and have some great friends here, but I also feel slightly melancholy about times gone by. However, this weekend has been very entertaining, and as is often the case when I come back here, has been filled with some unusual experiences. Bruce, who I have always credited as the original ideas-man behind the "ALife4Sale" project, along with his partner Lizzie and son Tyler, are moving out to the counrty to a small farm they now have out there. Right next door, Lizzie's brother John has just built an enormous chicken shed where he is rearing free-range chickens, and now produces over 7,000 eggs a day! I have never seen so many chickens in one place in my life! We had very fresh eggs the next morning for breakfast. The egg in the middle of the three pictured is a normal sized egg from the shops. The smaller one on the left is what most of John's chickens are currently producing, as they are just getting started, but the one on the right was a surprise find from one of the young chickens - that can't have been easy to produce! It tasted great.    On Sunday afternoon I went to meet Nicky, and her husband Craig, who works as a sound engineer at the grand old Victorian-era Spa Theatre on the seafront. Nicky had contacted me through the website, and had also supported my fundraising goal by buying a photo of the whales I saw in Japan. I thought it would be fun to deliver the photo in person, and got a behind-the-scenes tour of the theatre, which was fascinating. I got to have a bit of a play with the fabulously high-tech sound an light mixing desks.    Yesterday I headed out into the country with my friend Alan, in his old battered Morris Traveller, along with Mal, and Blue, Alan's extremely eccentric and amusing English Bull Terrier. We visited a couple of lovely country pubs before heading back into town to finish the evening.    And so this morning I am heading back to mum's in Darlington for a few more relaxing days, before heading back south at the end of the week, and an atempt at a particularly scary goal in a field somewhere near Stamford! Fingers crossed! Thanks to all my friends in Whitby and Scarborough for a fantastic weekend, it's a shame it was such a flying visit. See you all again next year, I hope.
http://www.bowelcanceraustralia.org/bowel_cancer/awareness.html I have mentioned on several occasions my charity fundraising goal on behalf of the Bowel Cancer and Digestive Research Institute. If you are wanting to make a contribution, and help towards the achievement of another goal, then today might be an ideal day to do so. More details here: http://www.100goals100weeks.com/getInvolved_Fundraising.php
Colin Furze is a very interesting guy, and owns a homemade "Wall of Death", built in a friend's field, and was kind enough to allow me to come and have a try at riding it. I had called in on my way north a week and a half ago, and was quite alarmed at the run-down appearance of the wall, but excited too at the prospect of having a go on it.       Over the last week, Colin had cleaned out most of the thistles from the bottom of it, and prepared two Honda scooters for the day. Getting the bikes into the interior area of the wall was treacherous enough, involving a tricky ride up the steep ramp, stopping just in time to avoid plunging into the deep hole at the top. I wisely left this tricky operation to Colin.    Once inside the wall with both bikes, Colin fired one up, and headed around and up the wall. He said he was pretty rusty, as he hadn't ridden the wall for a year and a half, but I watched in amazement as he worked his way pretty quickly up on to the vertical section several times. After a bit of fiddling around with the older, tattier looking bike, which we couldn't get started, Colin foolioshly offered to let me try on the better bike, which was the first mistake of the day. My theory was to attack the wall with confidence, much as Colin appeared to, and did so. This was the second mistake! Before I had managed the second circuit, I had the bike onto the vertical section, but having never experienced such a thing, my natural motorcycling reaction was to try to get the bike upright, and before I knew it, I was sliding down the wall behind the bike, which had obviously lost all grip! I scraped my arm a bit, but otherwise was okay.    Colin pretty quickly put some extra effort into getting the older bike running, suceeding this time, and after a bit of a pep-talk, I was off again. The idea is to progress upwards a bit more slowly at first, and lean more.... much more. I really had imagined that it could not be too hard to do, but was a bit frustrated at my slow progress. It is SO much harder than you can possibly imagine! After three or four circuits you end up incredibly dizzy and disorientated. And the hardest part is to overcome the natural reaction to want to be upright. But I persevered, taking regular breaks to stop the mental spinning effect, and then back to it. The wall itself is very ramshackle, and pretty bumpy, and there are quite a few potholes in the 45 degree-angled section. The vertical wall is alot smoother, apparently, but it is a huge mental hurdle to get up there. But after a couple of hours I was getting up onto the vertical for short stretches, which I tried to make longer and longer, but it really is very visually and physically disturbing! By the end of the day, I was confidently riding at the transition point between the 45 degrees and the vertical, and getting up onto the wall regularly, but could not quite stay up there!    And now, relaxing afterwards, I feel a strange mixture of elation and frustration. In a way, I am enjoying the fact that it is a much, MUCH harder skill to master than I thought it would be, but am also disappointed by the fact that I still haven't done a complete circuit on the vertical wall. However, like many things in life, if it was easy, everybody would be doing it, wouldn't they? I feel that I can say that I have achieved my goal of riding a "Wall of Death", but I want to do better. But I still have more time tomorrow to crack it! Huge thanks to Colin, and mates Mark and Lee, who gave up a huge amount of their time today to help me, and to everyone else who came along and offered support and encouragement. What a day! I can't wait to get back to it tomorrow again! See all of Colin's videos, including his awesome Wall of Death building, crashing and riding videos, on his YouTube channel here: Colin Furze's YouTube Channel There will be a follow-up blog early next week on day 2 on the wall, with more pix, and video too, once I get it edited. 
On Sunday morning we went around to Mark's house to watch the motorcycle MotoGP from Barcelona, which had an incredibly exciting finish, as Valentino Rossi and Jorge Lorenzo fought an astonishing battle for the whole of the race, and to huge cheers in the living room, Rossi snatched a well-earned victory at the final corner. After a quick bite to eat we loaded the bikes back onto the truck, and headed out to the wall again. Once the bikes and tools were lowered back in, some repair work was carried out to the dodgier sections of the lower parts of the wall. Finally cameras were set up and fiddled with, and it was time to get back on the wall.    My idea was to make the first couple of circuits slow and steady until I got the feel for it back, but things didn't quite work out as planned. In quite an impromptu fashion, Colin and I ended up with both bikes running, and with a nod at each other we both set off from opposite sides. I knew I had to get up the wall quickly and keep my speed up, and I was very quickly back to the transition point where the wall became vertical, aware of the noise of Colin's bike opposite and behind me. We managed a couple of good dual efforts before going back to the safer solo rides. Once again I tried to creep further and further up above the transition to vertical, with similarly frustrating results as the day before. I could feel myself getting better bit by bit, and my confidence was building, but I knew time was running out, and I had still not ridden around the wall in the way that I had imagined it beforehand. One of the other guys, Lee, came down to give it a go, riding in the opposite direction to everyone else, and with a background in BMX riding, managed to quickly get the hang of doing big arcs up onto the wall, like riding a bike ramp. Spurred on by his quick successes, I pushed myself harder on the next couple of turns, and got a couple of good rides around, and on the next try Mark, who was operating the video camera reckoned I had done a full circuit completely on the vertical section. There was a cheer from above, but Colin looked doubtful, and reviewed the video footage. "What do you think?" he asked me, and handed me the camera, and I watched through the viewfinder. "It's still not good enough, is it?" I said quietly to Colin. "I thought you'd say that," he replied. But something in me had clicked, and Colin and I talked about pushing up with the lower handlebar, and he explained that the first time that you felt yourself actually hold the bike up on the wall when it's weight wants to pull you down, and it stays where you want it to, everything mentally falls into place. The next couple of times on the wall I was conscious of keeping the throttle open, and pushing on the lower bar, and made a couple of much better circuits of the wall, creeping up higher for longer, until I made what I thought was an excellent double circuit.     Colin, who had been watching from the top of the wall for a while, came back down, and I managed another good lap on the vertical. I was so pleased, and quickly gathered my spinning thoughts, and set off again. This time I could keep the bike up for a much longer period, and my confidence soared. I had cracked it! It felt absolutely awesome, and I was incredibly thrilled. And just in time too, as Colin, who decided to have another quick go himself, found himself struggling to keep control of the bike. No wonder, we discovered as he brought it down looking very discouraged, it had a flat rear tyre. The day was over!    We packed everything away, and dragged the bikes back out of the wall and put them on the truck. There was quite a crowd now, and alot of chatting and laughter, and I thanked everyone profusely. I couldn't really find the words to properly express to Colin how grateful I was to him, but I think he knew, and I imagine my face said more than words ever could. He and his wonderful friends had pretty-much given up a large chunk of their weekend to help a complete stranger achieve a goal, and although I am sure they had enjoyed themselves, I was quite overwhelmed by their generousity. Thanks to all who were there. It really was one of the most outstanding weekends of the trip so far. As I drove away I felt very proud, and very satisfied within myself, and thought alot about what I had just achieved. I had seriously underestimated how difficult a skill it would be to learn, but was pleased that even after an early setback, scraping down the wall without the bike on my first attempt, I had not given up. I had managed to push past the fear and the frustration, and the spinning disorientation, and stuck at it, pushing myself when it might have been easy to give up, call it a day, and say that I had given it a good try. And ultimately I had succeeded in what I had imagined doing, and the feeling was absolutely wonderful. This goal is certainly, by a long way, my proudest personal achievement so far. Just a few days before, I had been asked in a radio interview why I chose to have some of these crazy, dangerous goals in my list of 100. As I drove away from the Wall Of Death, I thought to myself that if I could just take some of what I felt right then, and hold it out to someone as a physical thing in my hand, and give it to them, I would simply say, "There, that's why I do these things!" What an awesome weekend! I have a few bits of video on my camera, but not really enough to make a decent video from, so I will wait for Colin to edit the footage from the three cameras he and Mark had, and see how that looks. I will post a link to it as soon as he gets it done. In the meantime, I will finish my notes on the weekend with the specially penned tune about the wall by local group, March To The Grave, several members of which I met over the course of the weekend. Cheers to all the Stamford Cowboys! Thanks to Lee and Mark too for several of the photos used here, and thanks to Colin for the generous provision of a "safety tie", which all riders of the wall are required to wear! Why? "Well, you've got to look your best, don't you?" was the closest that I got to an answer that made any sort of sense. But as I left at the end of the weekend I asked if Colin needed his tie back. "Keep it as a souvenir," he said, "as long as you promise to wear it at the movie premiere if your film ever gets made!" I kept it as a souvenir, and I will keep my promise too if I ever get the chance to! Check out more of Colin's inspired madness on his YouTube channel here: Colin Furze's YouTube Channel And watch how an expert does it. Three videos here of building the wall, first attempts and crashes, and what can be achieved after some practice:
On the Sunday evening I headed from Stamford across to Nottingham, where I stayed with friends Scott and Janine, who are all set to marry later this year. Sorry I won't be able to be there, but congratulations from me in advance!! On Monday morning Scott and I went for a quick 9 holes of golf. As I have mentioned before, I am a regular golf player, on average playing 9 holes every two years or so! So this is an early return to the greens (or more accurately, the rough), as I was beaten by my brother just last year in September, while in London. See earlier blog here. I think Scott was a bit worried, as last time we had played three years before it had been a very close match, and I had been playing with a bag full of ancient clubs. He must have been practicing, as he quickly went three holes up, and despite a few shared holes later in the round, and a win at one, Scott still beat me quite convincingly! I dread to think what the score might have been if we had been counting strokes! Between us we managed to lose quite a few balls, at one point early in the game wondering if we had enough with us to complete the round.    Next stop was near Uttoxeter to visit my cousin's family there, and a wonderful couple of days playing Guitar Hero on the PlayStation, ten-pin bowling on the Wii, and old board-game favourite, Cluedo. And then finally back to my brother's in London, where I have been lounging around on the sofa trying to do some more planning ahead. And so the next two goals are falling into place, and if you wish, you are welcome to come along and watch the first, and join in with the second. If all works out as I hope, I will be achieving, for the first time, two goals in one day, as well as making a decent step towards another. Tomorrow morning (Saturday 20th June) I am scheduled to do a wingwalk at 11am, and anyone is welcome to come along to watch. This has been organised through WingWalking UK, who can be found just to the east of London, at Damyns Hall, near Upminster, Essex which is close to Junction 30 on the M25. Come along and see me get put through a tough aerial routine!! There is a map on their website here. The second goal scheduled for tomorrow is the gathering of 5 Ian Ushers in one place. At this late stage, with only 24 hours to go, I am still not 100% certain I can make this happen. I have three other Ian Ushers confirmed coming to London tomorrow afternoon, making a total of 4 of us, and I am waiting to hear from two others, so hopes are still alive. If I can manage to get the four of us together with a fifth Ian Usher, I will also manage to raise $2,500 towards my charity fundraising total, as promised from Sir Richard Branson when I met him a couple of weeks ago. See here for more on how that happened. The meeting will be in a central London pub in the late afternoon and evening (Saturday 20th June), and if you wish to come and join us you are more than welcome to do so. If you feel like buying a round of beers for a group of Ian Ushers, you would be more than welcome to do that too, of course, but it's not a condition of attendance! For more details on time and location, email me via the "Contact Me" page.
Colin reckoned I was relatively unscathed only because I was wearing the safety tie that he had insisted on, and suggested that for any further dangerous activities, wearing the tie might be a wise choice. So before climbing up onto the top wing Boeing Stearman PT17 Kaydet biplane, I made sure I was appropriately attired. Pilot Mike told me I would be his first-ever tie-wearing customer! WingWalking UK is based at a small airfield on the east side of London, and it had taken me about an hour and a half to get there around the M25. It was a busy place, as there was a big gathering of kiteboarders there, flying kites and boarding around on the grass on wheeled boards. I met Mike and after a very quick briefing I was up onto the top wing, and was strapped in. As we trundled over to the runway I nervously checked the straps again - they felt good and tight, but there didn't seem to enough of them for my liking. As soon as we got a clear runway Mike gave me a shout, and we were off. Almost as soon as the plane took off, Mike banked it over to the right, and we swooped in low over the airfield. We went through a routine of turns and swoops, and I was amazed at how low to the ground we passed over the field. Mike later told me that he is licenced to fly as low as 30 feet during a display. It felt very quick being so close to the ground. Towards the end of the sequences, we went up to about 500 feet, and Mike dived the plane towards the runway, gathering speed, and then pulled up into a climb and another dive - it was like being on a huge rollercoaster. The whole display lasted about 10 to 15 minutes, and I could have happily stayed up there for much longer, it really was quite an incredibly free feeling. And what an incredible position to to be too. It was quite similar to the thrill of a skydive, but for a more extended period. By the end I was feeling pretty relaxed and confident.    Afterwards Mike presented me with a certificate, and I hung around to watch the next person's flight. It was fantastic to be right under the plane as it flew over at speed just 30 feet above. Take a look at the video of my flight here:- Many thanks to pilot Mike from WingWalking UK, what a fantastic experience!
I have been trying everything I could think of over the past week to try to gather five of us, and by Saturday morning I had three other Ians confirmed, making a total of four of us. I had been in touch with four or five other Ians from various parts of the country, but all had other engagements, or London was too far for them to come. I had hoped to be able to get the four of us in a car and drive to briefly meet one of the other Ians, but had been unable to get in touch with him to make arrangements. So eventually I had to accept defeat on this occasion, and be happy with meeting three other Ian Ushers. Ian (London) Usher had arrived at the pub just before me, and we got a couple of pints and sat down for a chat with the first other Ian Usher we had both ever met. Sortly afterwards Ian (Portsmouth) Usher arrived, followed minutes later by Ian (Bristol) Usher. We had a couple of rounds in the fantastic old Glasshouse Stores pub, and got to know each other a bit. We all got on pretty well, and the other Ians had some funny stories about how my eBay antics had impacted upon them. Ian from Portsmouth is about the same age as me, and had had many old friends contact him, asking if he was okay, and why he was selling everything. And Ian from Bristol is an artist, and when setting up his website, his web designer couldn't understand why they couldn't get him a good ranking in a google search, until he discovered why... "Oh, that's unlucky! You've got the same name as the guy selling his life on eBay! That makes it much trickier." The fire alarm went off just as we were finishing our second round, and we all ended up out on the pavement until things were sorted out, and decided that it would be a good time to head off to the Roundhouse in Covent Garden, where the new owners, Fuller's Beers, had offered each Ian a socially responsible free two pints of beer. Free beer! Fantastic, thank you Fullers!    As the afternoon turned into evening the beers continued to flow, and we did alot of laughing at unusual and entertaining situations that could occur. I mentioned that I had hoped to drive the four of us to meet a fifth Ian, but if I had borrowed my brothers old car, which overheats in busy traffic, I could picture a scene when we breakdown in central London. When the police turn up to sort it out, imagine them asking who was driving... "Name?" "Ian Usher." "And the others here? What's your name?" "Ian Usher." "Right! And you?" "Ian Usher" "Hmm, you?" "Ian Usher" "Right, you're all under arrest!!"     Eventually Ian (Bristol) had to leave to catch the coach home. Ian (London) was next to head for home, and Ian (Portsmouth) and I headed for the tube, and I dashed headlong onto mine which was just about to leave. Unfortunately by then I was pretty drunk, we had had a good long afternoon and evening, and I did not check the destination of the train. I also did the late night comedy trick of falling asleep almost immediately. The Piccadilly line splits into different directions before my brothers house, and when I woke I was at a station I had never heard of before. It took a few drunken minutes of studying the tube map before I figured where I had gone wrong. Fortunately trains were still running back towards the city, and I backtracked, and eventually managed to find my way home. Two hours to do a journey that should have been about 40 minutes! I woke with a fine hangover this morning... I'm never drinking again, I promised myself, as I have done many times before, and am sure I will do again in the future! I cannot thank the other three Ians enough for coming along to meet a group of strangers that possibly had nothing in common other than a name! It was great that we all got along so well, and had a great evening. I really do appreciate the efforts you all made to be there. It is a shame that the goal was not completed, but the other three are still all keen to help me achieve it, and also secure the $2,500 charitable donation from Sir Richard Branson, so hopes are not yet dead.  Pictures also available on my Facebook page here. Thank you Ians, a brilliant night!
But when I met the three other Ians, we had such a great afternoon and evening out, and they encouraged me not to give up on the idea. Their support for my rather random goal was very welcome and inspiring. In the blog I have previously written off one of my other goals as unachievable too. The Worthing Birdman Festival (which used to be the Bognor Birdman Festival until Bognor Pier caught fire!) takes place this year in August, when I was scheduled to be climbing mountains in Colorado. However, with a bit of research, some planning, and the lucky discovery of a reasonably cheap return flight from Denver, the goal is still achievable! Never give up!! And so on Saturday night the four Ian Ushers came up with another date to try to achieve the goal of gathering five or more of us, as well as securing Richard Branson's very kind charitable donation offer of $500 per Ian gathered together. We would like to invite any other Ian Usher along to join us in Worthing on the Birdman Festival weekend, which takes place on August 22nd and 23rd, two months from now. The event looks very entertaining and quite spectacular, and attracts visitors from all over the world. Thousands of people are expected to come and witness this crazy, unique British event this year. The activities take place over two days, with the more serious and competitive flyers stretching their wings on Saturday, and the rest of the competitors plunging gracelessly off the pier on Sunday. I have entered in this second category! More information at the Worthing Birdman website here. And check out the video highlights from last year's event: So hopefully, with the help of some more Ian Ushers, I can achieve two goals in one weekend. Come on Ians, it will be a brilliant event! Make a holiday weekend of it! As with almost all of my other goals, the offer is open to anyone else who wishes to come along and offer support and encouragement. Or just to laugh at me jumping off a tall pier! It really does look quite high in that video, doesn't it? Oh, by the way, I just realised earlier today that it was exactly one year ago today that the ALife4Sale auction started, and bids reached a crazy $2.2 million, before the bidding idiots were weeded out!! The year seems to have flown by since then, but in another way that all seems so long ago too. Isn't the way we perceive time odd sometimes?
So with a few days to spare before heading off to Spain, I packed some stuff in Martin's trusty car again, and along with Martin and his box of food, we headed west out of London. Martin has a ticket for the huge Glastonbury music festival this weekend, and was meeting up in a motorway services area with his friends who had rented a camper van for the event. After a quick bite to eat, Martin's pals showed up, and he moved his gear into the camper van, and I continued south, eventually crossing Dartmoor to find the secluded little cottage where Simon and his family live. I hadn't been there long before the trials bike was out, and we were thrashing around the abandoned quarry behind his house. I have never been very good on a trials bike, and watched amazed at some of the hills Simon rode the bike up and down. I managed a slightly lesser hill, but sensibly knew my own limits and declined to come down the bigger, steeper section that Simon encouraged me to tackle. Maybe a bit more practice needed first, I think.    The next day I headed out onto the hills to try to toughen up my legs in preparation for my "7 Peaks" goal in late August in Colorado, and walked to the top of the moors behind the house. The weather was lovely, and the views were spectacular.    Encouraged by my first foray into fitness, I got up this morning, and after a quick breakfast headed out onto the hills again on a slightly more ambitious circuit. I spent a couple of hours wandering around the hilltops, known as tors here, and thoroughly enjoyed the silence and tranquility.    I think Simon and Helen may have trouble getting rid of me, it is so lovely here. However, I think the weather at the moment certainly helps. I can imagine it is a long, cold, grim winter here! Their roof of their house can just be seen here on the right hand side of the first of the three pictures below - what a fantastic location!    I am having a day off from the fitness training tomorrow, although a quick walk over the moor to the local pub for Sunday lunch may be on the cards. Then on Monday I have planned a route covering a reasonably challenging "Ten Tors in one day", as more toughening for my legs and feet. Hopefully the weather will remain clear until then! 
One of the questions that I get asked most often is, "What will you do once your 100 goals challenge is over?" And at the moment I don't really have an answer. I was asked the same question many times during the build up to ALife4Sale, and until about a month before the sale began, I didn't have an answer then either. All I knew was that I wanted to do some travelling. But it was the question itself that eventually helped provide the answer about what I might like do after ALife4Sale was over. "What will you do after you sell your life?" Often the answer in my head was, "Whatever I like!" And what did I want to do? I started to write a list of some of the places I wanted to go, and some of the things I wanted to do, and with a couple of other little triggers, "100 goals in 100 weeks" was born. And having been asked a couple of times in the days I have spent here what I will do after this is all over, I suppose the question was on my mind a bit as I wandered the moors from tor to tor. Once above the walls of the farms the moor opens up, and the choices available in terms of route choice are endless. There are a few well defined paths, but for the challenge I had set myself, these paths did not always lead in the direction that I wanted. Most of the time I had to strike out across boulder-strewn moorland, with my target tor visible far in the distance, but the route between where I was and my final destination unclear. I would set off knowing exactly where I was going to get to, but had only a vague idea of the exact route I would take to get there. And so with head down, watching the uneven rocks ahead, I only ever really had about three or four steps ahead clearly planned. After taking these steps, the choice of route for the next few steps became clear. Sometimes when the ground became clearer the path for quite a way ahead was obvious. But on occasion the path that had seemed so obvious turned out to be boggy and unpassable, and some back-tracking and re-planning was necessary. And as I walked this slowly unfolding and often changing path, I thought about what a good metaphor it would be for not only my progress throughout my 100 goals challenge, but also for life really itself. In both cases we have a pretty good idea of the ultimate destination, but the path between here and there is often unclear. And it is only when we make a start towards the goal that we wish to achieve, and we take those first few steps, that the next part of the path reveals itself to us. Sometimes there are dead ends, and we have to back-track, but even as we do, so long as we keep our focus on the end goal, we are still progressing towards it, even though it may not feel like it at the time. And so my thoughts wandered to one possible future course that a friend had suggested to me not so long ago. "Maybe you could do inspirational talks! About goal setting and achieving. You will certainly be able to consider yourself some sort of authority on the subject after this!" And this day on the moor, I thought, might make a good analogy to use in such a talk. About life's often hidden path that only starts to reveal itself to us once we begin to walk it. I have no idea how I would go about becoming a motivational speaker, but if I decide that that will be the path that I follow, I guess I just need to take the first step in that direction, and the path will reveal itself to me step by step. Maybe even just writing about it here is taking the first step?    Many thanks to Simon, Helen, Cosmo and Daisy for their wonderful hospitality during my time here. What a wonderful and inspiring place you live in.    
I seem to spend a disproportionate amount of my time in front of this computer, and I often feel that I am "at work" alot of the time. I have to focus on three main areas, and try to maintain some sort of balance. I am often focussed on the recent past, when I pick photos, edit videos, and write blogs about what I have just done. But I also have to spend a huge amount of time planning the future - flights, trains, buses, accomodation, and more. It often takes a couple of days or more to plan and sort everything for a particular goal. And I have to do this as effectively as possible, as funds are pretty tight, and I need to make the money I have last as long as possible. But while chronicling the past and planning the future, I also try to be aware of enjoying the present too, as that is really why I am doing alot of these things - to enjoy some incredible experiences. Sometimes I almost feel that I don't quite manage to absorb the full experience, because I am concentrating a bit too much on trying to video it, or get a great photo. And so as I head to my next exciting, and somewhat nerve-wracking goal, which is one of the longest unfulfilled goals I have, I hope to really soak up the experience. I don't imagine I will be back to do this one again! But I will also try to get some good pictures too - I think it will be quite a spectacle! Here are just a couple of other things from the past, present and future... PAST My brother somewhat randomly found a new video for the song "Can You Give It" by UK group The Maccabees. I somehow manage to make two very brief appearances in the video, at time codes 2min40s, where there is a fleeting view of my back, and 3min05s, where I am hovering around at the back of the crowd of competitors. It's a shame one of my goals wasn't to appear in a music video, instead of a Hollywood movie! PRESENT I am back in London again, having travelled back up from Devon via the beautiful little town of Postbridge, and then along the A303 past the spectacular (and spectacularly expensive to visit) Stonehenge. I have had a couple of busy days trying to plan another goal that I am going to try to achieve while in Spain, but took some time off yesterday to enjoy the unusually hot English summer, and went down to Hyde Park to see the recently reformed group Blur in concert. We didn't actually have tickets, and were happy to sit outside the huge concert enclosure enjoying the sun and a few beers. An excellent last evening in London.    Many thanks to Martin and Rachel for putting up with me being on their sofa on and off for several weeks, while also having to deal with the stresses of having the whole house in turmoil as they have extensive building work completed. FUTURE And so after more than a month in England, it is time to move on again, and once more I feel that mixture of excitement and trepidation. It gets slightly easier each time I do it, but it is still challenging to pack the rucsac once again and leave behind the comfortable and familiar, for unknown adventures ahead. I take the train tonight up to Birmingham, where I will have to spend the rest of the night in the airport. An early flight takes me to Biarritz in the south of France, and I can hopefully get a seat on the bus to Pamplona. I imagine it is going to be pretty busy. I had managed to organise some tented accomodation through First Festival Travel at their campsite, about 30 kilometres out of town, for which I am very grateful. However, just yesterday I received an offer that I just couldn't refuse. "You can stay with us," said Michael of San Fermin Travel Central. He has an apartment with a balcony that overlooks the main street in Pamplona where the bull run occurs each morning. Fantastic!! Many thanks Michael, I am really looking forward to this one! 
At 5am I went to check in, and a few hours later I was back in France again, in the lovely south west coastal town of Biarritz. I had most of the day to potter around the coast, which was very spectacular, and despite some early rain, really liked it there.    At 6pm I caught the bus direct from there down into Spain, and arrived in Pamplona at around 9pm. Michael, from San Fermin Travel Central met me at the bus station, along with Mike from San Diego, one of Michaels's clients. I quickly dropped my bag off at Mike's apartment, and we had a bit of wander around the town, and past the bull ring, where we met Michael's wife Sofia. The meal they took me for was delicious, and I tried my best to be good company, but by midnight I was struggling. I had been on the go for over 24 hours, and from what I saw as I wandered back to the apartment with Mike, it's going to be a tiring few days here. The streets were packed with revellers, and it's still a couple of days until the festival begins. "This is nothing!" Michael told us, "wait 'til it really kicks off on the 6th!"    The next morning Mike and I went to visit Michael's apartment, which overlooks the main, long, straight section of the bull run. After the opening ceremony on the 6th, I am going to a balcony party on the morning of the 7th to watch the first running of the bulls. What a fantastic view it will be. Thanks for the kind invite Michael! I am in two minds about this. I think it will be good to watch, and get some hints and tips. However, when I went to the cheese rolling a few weeks ago, if I hadn't run in the first race, and had seen the carnage of race 2 before I was due to run, I am pretty sure I would have had some second thoughts. I hope this isn't the case with the running of the bulls.    I have also been very lucky to get a ticket for the first night of the bull fights at the ring after the opening ceremony. Apparently these tickets are very hard to get hold of, but last night we met a lady trying to sell one ticket, as her huisband was ill and wouldn't be able to go. This is something else I am in two minds about too. My expectations are that I am going to be a bit horrified and saddened, but I also feel that to be able to talk knowledgably on any subject, you have to have experienced it to some degree. More to follow, I imagine.... 
At around midnight the rest of the apartment decided it was time to go back out again, as it only felt like 3pm to them, as they had just flown in from San Diego. I wisely declined the offer to join them again, as it felt like 3 in the morning to me, and they eventually returned at around 4.30am! However, quite impressively, they all managed to be up early the next morning, and all dressed in the obligatory white and red San Fermin outfits, we headed down to the Town Hall square at around 9.30am. The festival started today at midday, but locals had suggested we should be in the square before 10am, as it got pretty full and crazy after that.    The Tomatina Festival had prepared me well, as things were pretty wild by 10.30, and just got crazier as midday approached. The square was packed, but the atmosphere was very friendly and festive. The air was filled with champagne and sangria, and before long our white shirts were tinged completely pink.    At midday rockets were fired, and confetti filed the air, and the whole square erupted. It was awesome to see, and to be part of. A couple of us managed to climb up onto a balcony just after midday, and the pictures and video (which will follow as soon as I get a chance to edit something) only manage to capture part of the madness.        What a start to San Fermin!! And there are still bull fights and bull running to go yet!! 
I went to see the bull fighting this evening, and tried to go with no pre-conception of what might be involved, but found that I could not shake off my expection of being horrified by what I was about to witness. And for the first half of the evening, I was quite sickened, much as I expected to be. As the first three bulls died, I had tears in my eyes, and didn't think I would last the whole evening. But as the second half of the evening began, I put my camera and pre-conceptions away, and watched the rest of the spectacle as a sports event. And I was very surprised to find myself thrilled by the skill and courage on display. The whole of the evening was horseback-based bullfighting, and despite the gruesome nature of the events on display, I was quite disturbed to find myself on my feet, along with all the supporters around me, cheering the amazing displays of bravery and skill. The horses were incredible, and so obviously keen to get close to the bulls, and certainly seemed to understand what was required of them. They pranced and pawed the ground, advancing on the imposing bull with an enthusiasm that was clear to see. In the earlier parts of the evening, I was on the side of the bull, hoping that they might get to grips with the arrogant, posturing toreadors, but when the horse dancing around bull #4 slipped over, and the bull speared it in the right flank, I was aghast, as was most of the crowd. But the guy aboard the horse made a clean getaway, somewhat disappointingly, and thankfully the horse seemed okay, and was lead limping out of the ring. As bulls #5 and #6 died for my entertainment, I was very disturbed to find myself less and less caring for the poor, magnificent creatures, and more and more thrilled by the spectacle on display.    At the end of the evening I left the ring and headed for home, determined to try to capture my feelings in words as soon as possible, but bumped into a couple of my American friends on the way back, and of course, one thing lead to another, obviously involving more drinking, so... I don't really think I have quite managed to find the right words to describe my divided thoughts on this experience, but I do know that I am pretty certain that I won't be going to a bullfight again. While I can now appreciate the skill and bravery displayed, it all still had a horrible, final inevitability about it that I found too hard to stomach. I think I'll be sticking to to soccer or ice hockey from now on!
  
I eventually made it to bed at around 3am, much later than planned, as I needed to be up again before 6am to go to Michael's apartment for his balcony party for the first run of the bulls. I felt remarkably good when my alarm went off, and Curtis and I got ready to head out. It's Curtis's last day, and he was going to run. I woke Mike too, who seemed pretty groggy, and he started to round up his sleepy group. I wished Curtis well as we went our separate ways, and arrived at Michael's in good time. He has an amazing view of the main street, and had put on a great breakfast spread too. Eventually, at 8am the rocket went off, a huge cheer went up, and the first bull run of 2009 started. The street was pretty packed, and people started running below us, long before the bulls arrived. In the distance to my right I saw the bulls come round Dead Man's Curve, and head along Estafera. They passed below in two groups, and although a couple of people tripped over, it looked like a pretty clean run-through, and I hope it is so again tomorrow, as I plan to be down there taking part. Here's how it looked this morning: Michael had also set up a camera above the balcony looking down into the street, and broadcast live on the web via uStream. He will be doing the same again tomorrow, and I hope to be running along the section that his camera looks at, achieving goal #49. You can watch it live if you like here: http://www.ustream.tv/channel/running-of-the-bulls-pamplona-2009 Once again, I can't thank Michael enough for his kindness and assistance, and use of his fantastic balcony. Don't hesitate to ontact him at www.SanFerminTravelCentral.com if you plan coming next year!
After the interview, which was very easy-going and relaxed, I made my way through thronging crowds to the Cuitadela, where there is a fireworks extravaganza every evening. It is competitive, and the Italian team put on a great show. Back at home I got a reasonably early night, along with half of my housemates, who had also finished the evening at a sensible hour. The rest of the group, however, had partied on, and at around 4.45am, were insisting on a house meeting, scheduled for 5am, from what I could gather! I don't think anyone else made it to the meeting, and I don't think I missed much, as it all went quiet again soon after that. I had set my alarm for 6.15am, but was woken up at 6.35 by Nick, who was on his way out. I checked my phone, and was amazed to find, on the morning of one of my major goals, I had set my alarm for the evening, instead of morning! I dressed in my red and white gear after a quick shower, and down in the busy main street I soon bumped into John. Before long the street was cleared of revellers and runners alike, and we were shepherded into a side street, and made our way back round to the town hall square, and joined the pack of runners again. The streets outside the run were packed, and it was difficult to even get into the bull run streets, and once in we were absolutely squeezed in as the main street got a final cleaning. Tension was mounting, and there was an incredible air of expectation. At about ten to eight we were allowed to spread back into the main street, and John and I picked a spot just before the ominously named Dead Man's Curve. Our plan was to round the corner just as the bulls started running, and stay well to the right, as the bulls come wide around the corner, and then join them for the run straight along Estafeta. However, any sort of planning in such a crazy, excited, scared crowd like that, is hopeful at best. The first rocket went off and a huge cheer went up, and you could really feel the fear and excitement in the air. As the second rocket went off, indicating that all the bulls are out of the pen and running, John and I joined the crowd, and pushed-shoved-jogged our way around the corner, and that was the last I saw of him. It was packed, and wild. I made it about five yards along the street, and then tucked in at the right side, pretty much at the front of the crowd backed against the wall. People were streaming past in front of me, and the speed and panic increaced as the bulls approached. I watched in amazement as the lead animals hurtled around the corner - they were huge. As soon as they drew level with us I heard myself shouting "Go, go, go!" and ran out, along with a large part of the crowd I was with, and we joined the run. I knew that all the bulls hadn't gone past, there had only been about six or seven in the first group, and I knew there were more behind, as they must have got separated a bit earlier on. Now running in the middle of the street, it was just a matter of making sure not to fall over, and to try to get back towards the side before the next bulls came barrelling through. But while that seemed like a good idea, it is not how things worked out at all. In the middle of the running hoards, three or four people went down in front of me, and I jumped and veered left, and just made it around them, but was off balance. Another person fell in front of me, and I couldn't avoid him, and tripped over the top of him. I was now on the floor, pretty much in the centre of the street, and all I could do was curl up and hope for the best. I looked up, just in time to see one of the huge brown and white guiding steers thunder by just a foot or so away. I stayed curled up, as the crowd of runners was now passing over and around me, and to try to get up would be impossible. Eventually the crowd thinned a bit, and a couple of guys gave me a shout and dragged me to my feet. I rejoined the runners, trying to quickly take stock of myself, and decided that I was relatively unscathed. I continued to follow the route with the rest of the running crowd, eventually making it into the bull ring at the end. The ring was packed, and people milled around laughing and whooping, obviously thrilled and excited to have completed the run. I too felt elated and thrilled, and somewaht lucky too. "Next time," I thought, "I really must try to stay on my feet!" That thought was immediately followed by, "What next time? I'm not doing that again. That has to be the craziest thing I have ever experienced." In the ring the craziness continued, as for the entertainment of the packed audience, bullocks are released into the ring one at a time to run riot among the runners brave enough or foolish enough to want to stay in there. I stayed in for a few munites, but when the first bullock came charging past and the crowd surged back, I decided enough was enough, and watching would be a much better option that staying in the ring. A wise choice, I decided, as over the next twenty minutes or so, I saw at least three people transported away on stretchers. I didn't take my camera with me this morning, but will try to get into the ring tomorrow to film some of the madness there. So how do I feel afterwards? This was a pretty important goal for me, one that I have probably had for the longest time. I have been promising myself for over thirty years now that one day I would come and do this. Well, of course there is a huge sense of closure and achievement. I also feel proud to once again have done what I promised myself that I would do. And also incredibly thrilled. I eventually made it back home around an hour and a half after the run, and bought some breakfast supplies. As I made my sandwich, I was surprised to find that my hands still had a slight shake to them, as either the last of the adrenaline wore off.... or maybe it was just the strong cup of coffee I had just had on an empty stomach kicking in! Thanks to all who helped make this goal an incredible reality... First Festival Travel for their kind offer of camping accomodation, Michael and San Fermin Travel Central for organising my accomodation in town, and for the use of his balcony yesterday, Mike, Willy, Fipps, Ivy, Nick and Curtis for welcoming me into their group, and to John too for joining me, at least for the initial few seconds of the run. You have all helped make this an unforgettable experience. Thank you all.
There are two big video screens high up in the arena, and when eight o'clock finally came around, and the first rockets went off, we could watch the run live on the big screen. It was great to see the crazy progress through the streets, and as the bulls on the screen approached the ring outside, in front of us people were streaming through the tunnel into the ring. There was a huge cheer as the bulls burst through the fleeing people, who scattered to left and right, as the bulls passed through the ring, and almost directly under us into the stalls. People continued to flow in, and eventually the gates were closed and the bullock madness began again. Check out the video below. My favourite comment of the day: Ivy - "It must be some sort of guy thing, because I don't know what would make anyone think that this is a good idea!" Fipps enjoyed himself, and escaped relatively unscathed, tripping once and gathering a couple of scrapes as trophies of the morning. Well done!
Muna and Carmen had brought a couple of bottles of duty free, and before long shots of Jack Daniels were being handed round. I managed to stay sober enough to wander off to the square near our apartment, where there is wi-fi access, and tried to sort out my own onward travel plans, which are as yet unconfirmed. I am trying to arrange another goal while here in Spain, but things are still in the balance. More to follow, if things work out as I hope. As the day progressed, most of the household tried to stay relatively sober, as both Mike and Willy were keen to run in the morning, and the rest of us were keen to go back to the bull ring to watch the morning entertainment again. Apparently though, we didn't quite manage to stay sober enough, as when Ivy, who would be the only person out of the original group who didn't run, suggested that she might do it, we were all impressed. So much so that Fipps, Nick and myself offered to do it again with her if she decided to do so. And at decision time at 6.30am, Ivy decided we were going to join the run. I emptied phone and money from my pockets, and wondered what on earth I was thinking! Was I really going to go back and do this again? We walked down to the town hall square again, and were onto the run streets by 7am. Mike and Willy, along with Muna and Carmen, headed off down towards the steep early section of the run, which is the fastest part, just after the bulls come out of the holding pen. We headed in the other direction, around Dead Man's Curve, and picked a spot against the wall that would hopefully be off the main track of the bulls, and yet offer a great view as the bulls came sweeping wide around the corner. The plan was to have as safe a morning as possible, stay up against the wall with a buffer zone of other people in front of us, watch the bulls and faster runners go past, and then join the stragglers in relative calmness. After picking our spot we headed back towards the town hall square, to avoid being swept out of the main street by the police when the final cleaning took place. As we waited, packed in, tension mounted, and Fipps started to feel very ill. His eyes were swollen and red, and his lips were swelling, and he thought he was having an allergic reaction to something he had eaten. His wise decision to to pull out while he still could, and when we met him back at home later, he was pleased he did. Anti-histamines that one of the others had at home had slowly fixed him. So that left Nick and myself, along with Ivy. At around ten to eight we were released back into the main street, and we went to take up our chosen position. Again tension cranked up another notch, and at last the first and second rockets went off, and the bulls were on their way.    People streamed around the corner faster and faster, and a couple of people squeezed up in front of us, but I still had an incredible view as the bulls thundered around the corner against the opposite wall. Quite a few people went down among the bulls, and the corner was quite chaotic, but the bulls passed through cleanly and were gone. We waited a few more seconds for the chaos to die down a bit, and joined the runners, who were still streaming past. Further along the run, we approached the closed gate across the main street, about two thirds of the way along. The gate is to prevent any bulls turning around and returning back along the run, which would be devastating. But as we drew closer there was shouting and excitement, as three of the massive, but relatively docile steers were herded along, approaching us from behind. As they approached the still closed gate, now hidden by hoards of runners who hadn't been quick enough to get through, panic broke out, and people ran in every direction as the steers reached the back of the crowd. We managed to avoid most of the trouble, as we were still a little way back, and eventually the gate opened, and order was quickly restored. Another successful and, for all of our apartment group at least, injury-free morning. However, when we watched the re-runs on TV back at home, others had not been so lucky. The reason that the gate we were stuck behind had been closed for so long, was that one of the back-marker bulls had stopped, and turned around and gone pretty wild. Several people had come to grief, one guy being impressively tossed right over the bull's head, and then the bull had turned around and continued to attack him while he lay on the ground. I am pretty sure he was okay, but he will have a few wounds, and some amazing video of his impressive tussle with the huge creature. As soon as I can find one, I will post a link to the Spanish network TV footage of this morning, it is quite incredible. And if you are very sharp-eyed, you can just catch a glimpse of Nick and myself on there! Ah-ha! Found the Spanish TV website RTVE, which already has today's video online. Take a look at this craziness: http://www.rtve.es/noticias/sanfermines/2009/videos/ There will be a new lead video tomorrow after tomorrow's run, of course, but all the runs, including today's (10th July, fourth bull run 2009) will still be viewable there, I imagine. Thanks to Nick and Ivy for causing me to do this again! Once again what a fantastically terrifying and thrilling experience. Never again? Well, who knows? I don't any more - I can see that this could be very addictive. You can add a knot for each run you have done to tassles of the red sash that you wear as part of your San Fermin outfit, and mine now proudly sports two. Apparently there are some regular runners with sashes that have so many knots that they can't fit any more on there!  Congratulations all round this morning to my flatmates. Thanks again to you all for sharing this whole amazing week with me. Sad footnote: Unfortunately there was a death during this morning's run. "Daniel Jimeno, a 27 year-old Spaniard, was gored in the neck after one of the bulls veered into a group of runners, a Navarre regional government official told reporters." say Reuters. The occurence is more sensationally reported in UK newspaper The Sun. This is the first death for fifteen years by goring. The incident, which happened towards the end of the run, has been reported and shown many times already on Spanish TV, and is hardly even noticable on the video. It really does bring home the true nature of the dangers involved in this crazy event.
Mike had managed to arrange spots for five people on Michael's balcony, where I had watched the first day's Encierro, so a few of the group elected to go to the bull ring, amd a few of us headed for Michael's apartment, through the piles of debris left over from the night's partying hoards.  Only Carmen decided to run again, and we wished him well. After the bull run streets were cleared of the night's revellers, and swept clean once more, we spotted Carmen below, looking tense, but ready for action. I hope he did okay. Five minutes before the start, Mike and I gave some thought to going downstairs, out the front door, and joining the run again? What is it that somehow makes it seem so attractive, even after yesterdays horrific turn of events? Fortunately common sense ruled the day, and I don't think either of us was really all that keen, but I also think that neither of us would have backed out if the other had decided to go downstairs. We watched on the TV as the first rockets went off, and the bulls charged out of the pen and up the hill. We followed their progress up to and through the town hall square, and then onward and around Dead Man's Curve, then we all dashed across to the balcony. Once again it was extraordinary to see the running masses below, as the bulls thundered along Estafeta, and through the parting crowd of people. It seemed to be a pretty quick and clean run, and the bulls had only been slightly separated over the 825 metre length of the Encierro. However, within minutes the TV was showing highlights of the run, and there were a few nasty moments, with one guy in particular taking a bit of rough treatment from one of the trailing bulls, and ending up on a stretcher with a drip in his arm. Another spectacular piece of footage showed a runner in a blue t-shirt, just after Dead Man's Curve, who managed to squeeze into a shallow doorway just as the one of the bull's horns ran along the wall where he had been a second ago. He shrank back as far as he could, and the tip of the horn just touched the front of his t-shirt. What an incredibly lucky escape! I had packed my back and taken it with me to the apartment, as I had booked a bus ticket to Madrid a couple of days earlier, and I had to be at the bus station before 9 o'clock. Fond farewells were said all round, with promises to catch up again in San Diego or LA, and I headed downstairs. The party was in full swing again already in the streets, and I made my way through the night's debris. I am both glad and sad to be leaving Pamplona. I am glad simply because I don't think I could maintain the same pace for much longer. It has been a week-long, almost non-stop party, although I have tried to be reasonably restrained, held back a little by thinning personal Euro-finances! But I am sad to, as I have had one of the most incredible weeks of my life. I have never seen partying and craziness on such a scale before, and over such an extended period. I am also sad to say goodbye to some great friends that I have made here. Once again, I can't thank you all enough for welcoming me into your group, and allowing me to experience the week with you all. Grathias! 
And this takes place, not just over a few hours, or a single day, like the Tomatina that I attended last year, but goes on, absolutely non-stop for over a week. Day and night, sleep and awake, drunk and sober, terrified and elated all merge into one week long whirl of sensory overload that is hard to process. This video, like most of my pictures, can only capture a small part of what San Fermin is, but I hope it gives you a bit of a taste. Believe me, if there is one thing you really should experience at least once in your life, this really is it. Viva San Fermin! And below, with kind permission from www.bullrunning.com and www.rtve.es, are the bull runs from the eight days of the festival. Day 4 is the run which resulted in the unfortunate death. I ran on days 2 and 4:- Day 1 - Tues 7th July 2009 Day 2 - Wed 8th July 2009 Day 3 - Thur 9th July 2009 Day 4 - Fri 10th July 2009 Day 5 - Sat 11th July 2009 Day 6 - Sun 12th July 2009 Day 7 - Mon 13th July 2009 Day 8 - Tues 14th July 2009
I had had some trouble in Pamplona while trying to book a bus ticket from Madrid to the Spanish southern port town of Algeceras. I had found a great website, that offered tickets at very competitive prices, and tried to make my booking to depart at 9pm from Madrid, travelling overnight, and arriving in Algeceras Port the next morning, my intended destination. This had the double advantage of costing only 28 Euros, and saving the cost of overnight accomodation. My Euros are running very low, and my UK money has run out, my bank account there now in the red! But the website would only let me get as far as choosing my seat, then told me there had been an error, and to try again later. I tried many times throughout Thursday, and eventually gave up and rang the company direct. No, I couldn't book on the phone, I was told, use the website. Not working? Try a different computer. I went to the local internet cafe, but had exactly the same trouble there. I tried both Firefox and Internet Explorer. I tried both the English and the Spanish versions of the website. No use. I tried all combinations on my laptop again, and still no luck. Eventually I called back, and a very helpful chap tried to make the booking for me on his system, but we got to the credit card section, and my payment was rejected. No wonder, my account is in the red already! I gave up, and was convinced by the tele-agent that there would still be plenty of seats left when I got to Madrid on Saturday afternoon. I could phone the bus company direct, he suggested, but he didn't think anyone there would speak English, or I could just buy my ticket when I got to Madrid. I decided to take a gamble, and just catch my bus for Madrid on Saturday morning, and sort things out there. Surely there would be that many people heading south? So things went well this morning, and after watching my final bull run from the balcony, I made my way to the bus station, and caught my planned bus without any dramas, arriving in Madrid mid afternoon, six hours before the departure of my bus. There was a huge queue at the ticket counter, and people were coming away looking very disappointed. I finally reached the front of the line. Sold out! No tickets left until tomorrow night. But if I am to achieve this next goal I have to be in Algrceras tomorrow morning! A typically-Spanish shrug of the shoulders was the helpful response I got. No other bus companies run an Algeceras service. Train? Not today, I was told, I was too late. The battery was almost flat on the computer, and there was no wi-fi access to be found anywhere. I decided to head for the train station anyway, and see what I could find. After endless return visits to the information desk, I decided to take the train to Malaga on the south coast, and hope to find a bus from there, but time would be against me on the Sunday morning. The train fare was a ghastly 82 Euros, three times the cost of the bus, and it still doesn't get me to where I want to be. It is fast though, arriving early evening, so I might still find a bus tonight. Once again my UK bank card was rejected, no funds available, so I had to pay using most of the last of my cash. As I write this I am on the train, no idea how to get from Malaga to Algeceras, nowhere planned to stay tonight, and 15 Euros in my pocket! Oh dear! But I am trying to look on the bright side! At least there is power on the train, and I can recharge the laptop! UPDATE - 10.30pm Sat 11th July Well things have taken a bit of a turn for the better since I wrote the last blog entry, and as I often seem to do, I have landed on my feet again, without too much of a financial impact. I arrived in Malaga in expensive comfort on the train, and found the bus station nearby. Buses were still running, and I bought a ticket to Algeciras, which left me with about 4 Euros. I had a quick scrabble around in the pockets of both pairs of shorts, and in the side pockets of my rucsac, and came up with a couple of small notes, and a fistful of coins, and after buying a meal and coffee at the seedy bus station cafe, I still had a grand total of around 19 Euros left. Believe it or not, about 100 metres from the bus station in Algeciras, where I arrived at 10pm, I spotted a hostel, which has a lovely single room for 14 Euros, leaving me just enough to get a coffee and half an hour online at the cafe next door. I am now practically penniless for the moment, but believe I have everything in place to be able to achieve goal #50 tomorrow. I will worry about the next few days after that. More to follow...
I have been quietly trying to organise this for many weeks now, and decided in early June, when I had a bit of spare time on my hands, to email Greenpeace, and find out the location of their flagship "Rainbow Warrior". I was surprised to receive two telephone calls almost straight away, one from Jane in the San Francisco office, and one from Oscar in head office at Amsterdam. Oscar was keen to help me out, and told me that at the time the ship was docked at Seville in southern Spain, and was I free between 21st and 27th June? I certainly was, as that was just after my wingwalk and Ian Ushers night out, which were both scheduled for the 20th. I looked at return flights from the UK, and found that I would be able to go and return at a fairly reasonable cost. But Greenpeace plans changed unfortunately, and Rainbow Warrior had to move, and I missed out at the time. Oscar sent me new schedules, and thought that there might be another opportunity to catch up with the ship in Malta around the 23rd of June. Flights would be a bit more expensive, but still within the budget, so I prepared to make my bookings. But Greenpeace plans changed again, and I would not be able to join them now in Malta, Oscar informed me. The new schedule would give me a chance to catch the ship in Palma, on the Spanish Mediterranean island of Mallorca, but not until 3rd of July. This was the day before I was due to fly out of the UK to Biarritz near Pamplona, and so once again I researched flights. I would have to change the flight that I had booked, and fly instead to Mallorca, visit the ship on the 3rd, and then fly Mallorca to Madrid, and get the bus up to Pamplona. I could just do it, I thought. But as the day drew nearer, I waited to get the go-ahead from Oscar, and eventually, while walking up one of the ten tors I climbed in Devon, Oscar called me. Believe it or not, he said, plans had changed again, and Rainbow Warrior would not be in Mallorca, but instead at Tarifa on the southern tip of mainland Spain. When I got back from my walk, I checked flights again on the internet, and thought all would work out well. I almost went ahead and booked, as Oscar was very confident. I'm glad I didn't! That's right, plans changed again, and I would no longer be able to meet the ship at Tarifa now. I was practically at the point of giving up. In the end I headed for Pamplona as planned, and thought that it was a shame not to have achieved this goal, especially when I had the time on my hands to be able to do so. While in Pamplona I tried to stay in contact with Oscar, and he eventually confirmed that the only dates he could get me on board the ship were 17th and 18th July, again in Palma, Mallorca. Oh dear! I had a ticket from London to Florida booked for the 16th, an underwater hotel booked for the 18th, a flight to Mexico on the 21st, a tour to Chichen Itza on the 22nd, and a flight to San Francisco on the 24th. Would I be able to change my plans, Oscar wondered. Erm, I don't think so! Oscar also put me in touch with Marta, the Spanish Greenpeace press officer. I think he was as frustrated by the endless changes as I was. I now asked Marta where the Rainbow Warrior would be prior to the 15th, and she told me there would be only one opportunity to meet it, on the morning of the 12th at Algeciras, for only a few hours as it made preparations to move on again. And so after a long journey, frought with changes, as detailed in my previous blog, I finally arrived in Algeciras last night at 10pm, and this morning headed out to find the ship. It was a beautiful quiet morning as I strode along the deserted breakwater of the huge port, and just before 8am, I found the Rainbow Warrior.    I met Marta, and was taken aboard, and she showed me around the deck area. I was so happy to have made it, and finally get aboard. We chatted for a while, and I was introduced to several of the crew. Marta handed me over to Isabel, another Spanish press officer, as she had to go to a meeting, and we headed below decks. The ship seems to be incredibly well organised, and everything has a place and a system. For a while I was allowed to wander happily on my own, and looked around the wheelhouse, and examined the iconic rigid-inflatables that are considered to be one of the best-known images of Greenpeace's work. They are called Avon, Hurricane, and Novi I and Novi II. I chatted to several others of the crew, and Mehdi, who is chief mechanic asked if I wanted to give him a hand with some maintenance he needed to do. I jumped at the opportunity, happy that I would be able to say that I worked aboard the Rainbow Warrior, even if only for half an hour. By now it was lunchtime, and Marta came to find me, laughing that I had already been put to work. Apparently you can't sit around on Rainbow Warrior for too long without being given something to do.    After lunch I took a final quick look around with Marta, snapped some final photos, and said my goodbyes. Ah, but I wasn't going as soon as I thought. Spanish national TV station TVE are filming a documentary on board, and wanted to interview me about my reasons for this being one of my goals. I told them about how impressed I am by the incredibly brave work Greenpeace do down in the southern oceans every southern summer, when the Japanese come to slaughter the humpback whales there, and how I have been a supporter now for several years. I was also interested in seeing the Rainbow Warrior, because it is actually the second ship bearing that name. The first one was bombed and sunk in Auckland harbour in New Zealand in 1985, by the French secret service, as at the time Greenpeace were protesting French nuclear tests. More information here and here. On board the current Rainbow Warrior I saw the ship's bell and a pair of binoculars that had come from the original ship.    I got a picture taken with the film crew, and by then one of the most interesting items on board had been uncovered. Dave, the wooden dolphin on the front deck was built by crew members, and is rumoured to contain a secret. Some say it is a message for the world, others think it is a bottle of rum. Marta imagines that it is both of these.    The whole visit was very interesting, and I got a little bit of the sense of family aboard the ship from some of the crew I met. I feel very honoured to have been offered the opportunity to achieve this goal, and once again, in a manner much exceeding my expectations. Thanks to Oscar and Marta for putting up with my endless emails, when I am sure they had much more important things to deal with. And thanks to all the others I met on board for taking the time to show me around and make me feel so welcome - Isabel, Mehdi, Elvira, and everyone else I spoke to. Thank you all. I will not even try to explain any of the current campaigns that Greenpeace are working on, or that Rainbow Warrior in particular is involved in. Their website will do a far better job than I ever could. Take a look here, and should you feel it worthwhile, feel free to offer them your support. Finally I would like to finish with something that I just learned today - how the Rainbow Warrior got it's name. It comes from a quote from native American Cree Indians, which reads as follows: "When the world is sick and dying, the people will rise up like Warriors of the Rainbow..." The Cree Indian symbol is proudly displayed on board.  Greenpeace International
So for the last couple of days I based myself in my cheap hostel in Algeceris, and have been a bit of a tourist. My first trip was to Gibraltar, just half-an-hour by bus around the bay. Gibraltar is a fascinating place. It is on a very small peninsula, and is a huge natural rock fortress, and as such has played a key part in military campaigns down through the centuries, and has always been seen as incredibly strategically desirable., as it towers over the narrow Straights Of Gibraltar. It is a bit of a sore point in Spain, as Gibraltar remains loyally British, the inhabitants there voting recently to remain so by a huge majority. Spain dislikes Gibraltar being British, and road signs in Spain give almost no clue that the huge rock even exists until you are almost at the border. All road signs merely refer to La Linea, the border town. Crossing the border into Gibraltar is merely a matter of waving a passport at a nonchalant crossing guard, and wandering across the airport runway. It is all very British suddenly, with red phoneboxes, British bobbies (policemen) on patrol, all signs in English, and British pubs and fish and chip shops everywhere.    I had decided to climb the rock as a bit of fitness training for my upcoming goals, and avaoided the tourist route to the summit via cable car. I got lost a couple of times on the way up, and ended up scrambling over rocky cliffs to the summit to enjoy the splendid view. It became obvious I was inside some sort of military enclosure, having climbed by a somewhat unconventional route, but there was nobody around at all, so I happily wandered alone, the only person there.     As I made my way to the chairlift summit, I had to climb a huge gate to get out of the prohibited area I had found myself in. The gate was covered in dire warnings about trespass! Luckily nobody had spotted me. At the busy chairlift summit I found some of the Barbary Macaques, the infamous Gibraltar apes known for their kleptomaniac habits. Apparently humans, because of their habit of giving food, are seen as an subordinate species, and therefore their food can be taken at leisure. Fortunately all I could afford was a bottle of water. All prices are in UK pounds, and I did not have any with me, and the exchange rate for Euros is made up pretty-much on the spot, and is not favourable at all!    I continued along the top of the peninsula, eventually descending via the steep and impressive Mediterranean Steps which wind giddily down the steep east side of the peninsula. A long walk back through the town, which is a peculiar mix of very British shops, backed by very Spanish steep alleys just behind the facade, eventually brought me back to the border, and I headed home. The next day I headed west by bus, to the town of Tarifa, on the very southern tip of Spain. It is a strange cultural mix, with a small, high-walled old city, where both Spanish and Arabic influences are very clear.     But outside the old city the modern world is very much in evidence. Because Tarifa has one coast facing the Atlantic, with great onshore winds, it had become kite-surfing central. Every second shop is a kite-surf school and rental facility, and there is an abundance of cheap hostels, and dreadlocked surfer-types wandering the streets and beaches.    Again I wandered happily, along to the end of the pier, through the narrow streets of the old town, and right along the windy Atlantic beach. I stopped often for a coffee in a small cafe, or to buy fruit from a local merchant, and somehow missed my planned bus home. No problem, a bit more beach-wandering, and gazing across at Morroco in North Africa, looking tantalizingly close, soon passed another couple of happy hours until the next bus. And so my time in Europe comes to an end. Today I catch a flight from Gibraltar back to London. I plan to stay overnight in Gatwick Airport, and fly first thing in the morning to Florida. My next goal is the underwater hotel in Key Largo, and at the moment am still going to be alone there. Anyone want to come along - Sat 18th July?
They suggested we head to a nearby pub for a few beers, which sounded like a great idea to me. They had also brought along an emergency food parcel for me, having read my latest blogs about how my Euro-finances were thin, and they had imagined me living on one baguette and water for the last couple of days. I was very grateful. Eventually they headed for home, dropping me back off at the airport again, where I looked for a bench to sleep on. There were alot of others overnighting at Gatwick, so eventually I settled for a bit of floor space in a quiet corner, and slept surprisingly well for a few hours. Although my flight to Florida was not scheduled to take off until after 9am, the ticket I had indicated that check-in was required before 6.15am, so by 5.30 I had checked my big bag, and gone through security. I think such early check-in was suggested because I was on a holiday charter flight, and many others were families, and people who had obviously never flown before. It had been cheaper for me to book a Florida fly-drive holiday than a single, one way flight to Florida was going to cost me, so I happily accepted the early check-in. The nine-hour flight dragged, and I slept lightly on and off, but eventually it was over and I arrived at Sanford near Orlando. At border control I was taken to a small interview room, and began once again the process of trying to explain why I didn't have a job, why I had entered the States several times over the past year, how I had a US bank account, and a US address associated with that. Where would I be staying, and who with, they wanted to know? My answers: in an underwater hotel, and with strangers who had contacted me via the internet did not help my cause! Eventually, after looking at my website the agents seemed to believe I was neither a terrorist, or planning to stay in America longer than I should, and I got my passport stamped again. Cari lives in Tampa, and had been in touch with me for some time via email, and had offered to join me for the road trip part of my Florida journey. She had come across to Orlando to meet me at the airport, and had been patiently waiting in the oppresive heat, with a welcome sign. It is the first time I have ever been met at an airport by someone with a sign for me! I joined the queue for car rental, and added Cari as a second driver, upgrading to a slightly larger model. I was offered the choice of any car from the mid-size row. I was tempted by an economical (and boring) Toyota, but just behind that was an orange estate car that attracted me. I still have no idea what it is, but I had to choose that one - it looked so much more like a Florida road trip vehicle. First stop was for coffee at a 7-eleven, and on to the luxurious hotel Cari had booked for the evening. I soon had both bags unpacked and spread everywhere - I had some serious re-organising to do after two chaotic weeks in Spain. We had a few drinks and a meal, but by 10pm I was exhausted, it being the equivalent of 4am to me by then, and I headed for my room. I was wide awake at 3.30am, and again at 6am, as my body tries to adjust to the 6-hour change in timezone.    The next morning Cari had treated me to a fantastically relaxing Swedish massage at the luxurious spa at the hotel resort, and and afterward we headed to SeaWorld, where the big new rollorcoaster ride Manta was the attraction for the morning. Unfortunately it was having "technical difficulties", but we enjoyed a couple of the shows, and the awesome Kraken rollercoaster.    A couple of hours on the road took us to Fort Lauderdale, where Cari went to stay with her family, and I found Nancy's apartment. Nancy is Linda's mum. Linda very kindly looked after me in New Jersey when I was first in America back in October last year, and her mum was very kind to offer me support on my way down through Florida. I had a wonderful evening with her and her cousin Arlene, and friends Tom and Kathy. Also living with Nancy is the highly amusing combination of both the fattest and thinnest cats I have ever seen - Sergio (fat) and Buster (thin)!    So today I am up early again, wide awake by 5.30am this morning. I am really looking forward to goal 51, and will be sleeping underwater this evening if all goes to plan. Many thanks to Cari, who has been the perfect Florida hostess, and also to Nancy and friends for a wonderfully warm welcome back to the States.
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Prologue Weeks 1 to 10 Weeks 11 to 20 Weeks 21 to 30 Weeks 31 to 40 Weeks 41 to 50 Weeks 51 to 60 Weeks 61 to 70 Weeks 71 to 80 Weeks 81 to 90 Weeks 91 to 100 Epilogue
Prologue
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Weeks 1 to 10
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Weeks 11 to 20
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Weeks 21 to 30
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Weeks 31 to 40
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Weeks 41 to 50
(37)
10 May 2009 40 weeks!! New travels start tomorrow.
11 May 2009 Fundraising - your help needed please.
13 May 2009 Travelling like a beginner!
14 May 2009 Cannes Film Festival Opening Day.
15 May 2009 Goal 43 - Cannes-tastic!
18 May 2009 Underwater Hotel - an invitation to join in.....
23 May 2009 Cannes round-up.
24 May 2009 Goal 44 - Je parle Francais (un petit peu!)
26 May 2009 Goal 45 - chasing cheese.
26 May 2009 CNN cheese rolling reports.
28 May 2009 Help needed... yes, again!!
31 May 2009 Goal 46 - Virgin territory.
05 Jun 2009 More slow progress being made.
09 Jun 2009 The real ideas-man behind "ALife4Sale".
10 Jun 2009 Red Apple Day.
13 Jun 2009 Death defying goal 47 - day 1.
15 Jun 2009 Goal 47 - Wall Of Death, day 2.
19 Jun 2009 Two invites for tomorrow - goals 48 and 49 - possibly....
20 Jun 2009 Goal 48 - WingWalking.
21 Jun 2009 Four Ian Ushers!
22 Jun 2009 Never give up!!
27 Jun 2009 A few days down in Devon.
30 Jun 2009 The path will reveal itself....
03 Jul 2009 Past, present and future.
05 Jul 2009 Nervous!
06 Jul 2009 San Fermin opening ceremony.
06 Jul 2009 Death in the afternoon.
07 Jul 2009 Live bull running video tomorrow morning....
08 Jul 2009 Goal 49 - run for your life!
09 Jul 2009 Bull ring madness.
10 Jul 2009 Never say never again!
11 Jul 2009 Leaving Pamplona.
11 Jul 2009 Pamplona video highlights.
11 Jul 2009 The best laid plans....
12 Jul 2009 Goal 50 - Greenpeace - persistence pays off.
15 Jul 2009 Gibraltar and Tarifa.
18 Jul 2009 Returning to America.
11 May 2009 Fundraising - your help needed please.
13 May 2009 Travelling like a beginner!
14 May 2009 Cannes Film Festival Opening Day.
15 May 2009 Goal 43 - Cannes-tastic!
18 May 2009 Underwater Hotel - an invitation to join in.....
23 May 2009 Cannes round-up.
24 May 2009 Goal 44 - Je parle Francais (un petit peu!)
26 May 2009 Goal 45 - chasing cheese.
26 May 2009 CNN cheese rolling reports.
28 May 2009 Help needed... yes, again!!
31 May 2009 Goal 46 - Virgin territory.
05 Jun 2009 More slow progress being made.
09 Jun 2009 The real ideas-man behind "ALife4Sale".
10 Jun 2009 Red Apple Day.
13 Jun 2009 Death defying goal 47 - day 1.
15 Jun 2009 Goal 47 - Wall Of Death, day 2.
19 Jun 2009 Two invites for tomorrow - goals 48 and 49 - possibly....
20 Jun 2009 Goal 48 - WingWalking.
21 Jun 2009 Four Ian Ushers!
22 Jun 2009 Never give up!!
27 Jun 2009 A few days down in Devon.
30 Jun 2009 The path will reveal itself....
03 Jul 2009 Past, present and future.
05 Jul 2009 Nervous!
06 Jul 2009 San Fermin opening ceremony.
06 Jul 2009 Death in the afternoon.
07 Jul 2009 Live bull running video tomorrow morning....
08 Jul 2009 Goal 49 - run for your life!
09 Jul 2009 Bull ring madness.
10 Jul 2009 Never say never again!
11 Jul 2009 Leaving Pamplona.
11 Jul 2009 Pamplona video highlights.
11 Jul 2009 The best laid plans....
12 Jul 2009 Goal 50 - Greenpeace - persistence pays off.
15 Jul 2009 Gibraltar and Tarifa.
18 Jul 2009 Returning to America.
Weeks 51 to 60
(38)
Weeks 61 to 70
(36)
Weeks 71 to 80
(41)
Weeks 81 to 90
(34)
Weeks 91 to 100
(36)
Epilogue
(6)
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