After the rickshaw ride from hell in Delhi, I arrived in Agra simply wanting to go to bed and try to sleep it off. Instead, my rickshaw from the station was charged by a herd of cows, and I only survived thanks to the quick reactions of my driver, Sultan. Unfortunately, for saving my life, he seemed to think that I i) was somehow blessed by God and therefore important, and ii) owed him something (the cheek!), so proceeded to book himself to take me on a tour of Agra the following day. I told him I couldn't afford the 650 [View Full Entry]

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Another brief stab at little writing and mostly photos. Not being the official photographer, these are mere patches of the day, but noteworthy nonetheless. I can't really do the day justice in words. How to sum it up...Sarah looked sensational; it was really fun to be suited and booted and part of one of your best and oldest friend's weddings; all of the important stuff went like clockwork; the bride and groom had a fantastic day, as did all of the guests. The weather was very kind- we had clear skies until the party was over, a remarkable window considering that [View Full Entry]

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DAY 386 I was born in Castle Bromwich, near Birmingham, in 1963 and spent most of my adult life living in Southampton, strangely enough both places synonymous with the Spitfire, the creation of RJ Mitchell, a brillant aircraft designer and aircraft that still makes the hairs on my arms stand up, everytime I see one. Castle Bromwich is the place where my childhood was enjoyed, a great village, formed in Anglo Saxon times, more importantly to me, a place where my family lived but equally a place that produced 20,000 Spitfires from 1940 onwards, in a factory that still exists but [View Full Entry]

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Addis Ababa, the name itself tells us the mystery of the place. When I was around 11 years old, I had a map of the world, and I was proud to be able to know the name of the capital city of most countries. Ethiopia, this was such a mysterious land. I do remember the huge famine that happened here years ago, but beside this, I had no idea of what the place looks and feels like. Rest reassured, I'm not sure I know any better today, but at least, I've seen...a little. At 35, those kids dreams of land [View Full Entry]

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Thursday, November 26th The Bus-Rat was back for a visit last night, but ran off when we got up to see if we could spot him. After breakfast we put on some music and started working on the van with a vengeance. We needed it done by Saturday morning because we still have to clear the rest of the building site and cut up the remaining logs for fire wood. It was a blisteringly hot day, but we made great progress on the van. At tea time Talita baked delicious sweet-corn bread that we enjoyed for lunch. We called it a [View Full Entry]

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“My father is an ibex hunter. Tonight we will eat ibex”. “But I am vegetarian. I don’t eat meat”. “It is all we have. We are preparing it for you”. “OK”. Am I really going to break ten years of vegetarianism to eat an endangered animal? But I am not going to say no to this family who has so kindly invited me into their simple mud and brick house for the night. We sit around the central wood fire in their home as mother and daughter press chapattis and spend several hours preparing the meal. The warmth is a pleasant [View Full Entry]

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The appeal of a hostel inside a game reserve is too much to resist so I make my way to Sondzela Backpackers inside Mlilwane National Park. Though the sign saying "For international guests only" smacks of an apartheid that seems wholly unnecessary, I see several warthog and an antelope on my short walk from the park gate to the accommodation, which proves to be only a taster for what's to come. The grounds are gorgeous, the main building and swimming pool being the hub of the hostel with rondavels a little further away. A resident ostrich rarely strays far, and a [View Full Entry]

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13th March '09: I haven’t told you what’s in the back of my lorry, have I? No, I realise you don’t care...but that’s not the point - it is all pertinent to a rounded rock 'n' roll education. Unlike Namibian’s 'load of crap in the back', I have “Rigging 2” (the second rigging truck), and a laminated sign to that effect. This sign inside in the trailer also reads “Barnaby” - so nobody needs to commit that unpardonable offence of calling me 'drive'. It’s my bete noire. Throughout my working life, I've endured the occasional prop [View Full Entry]

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