constanttrek

Adventure of a different kind

June 5th, 2007

I am sitting in my darling mate Steve's house, listening to music and writing on his lovely FAST computer, in between staring in abject amazement at the variety of foodstuffs in the fridge.  It will take a little before any of it feels real, I think.

 

The last couple of weeks have been incredible.  Guy and Edith, the Canadian representatives I stayed with, not only took care of me like family, but took me on a seemingly endless round of diplomatic social engagements in the steamy heat of Niamey.  I rather think walking in the desert may well be easier than keeping up with the social requiements of diplomatic life; interesting and enjoyable as it was.

After writing the last post, I took a diplomatic ride back up to Tillia to sort out the camels etc.  I cannot begin to explain how different life is with that kind of clearance; a brand new 4wd as compared to bouncing around in the back of an ancient pick up, military escort for the piste track, and a letter of authority which stopped the usual round of awkward and expensive questions from everything in a uniform.  All I really had to do was sit there, smile, and eat at appropriate stops - a whole new world for me.  

 We had long discussions with the chief of the village in Tillia, who is a true gentleman.  He has taken responsibility for my camels and camel baggage until I return, and took me out to see my brave four legged stoics - who looked at me rather warily and only deigned to relax when they realised I did not come bearing ropes and baggage.  Poor sods, I think they are vastly relieved to have a break.

I went back down to Niamey and began counting the days until i could fly out.  But, oh, it is just never simple. 

To start with, the only way out was to fly to Casablanca (Morocco), train down to Marrakech, fly to the UK, then home to Australia.  I booked the Niamey flight first - it cost almost the same as the return flight from London to Melbourne.  But the night I was due to leave - at 2.00 in the morning - the Wet season, which had been oppressively threatening to arrive for the past fortnight, decided to descend in howling fury.  We sat helplessly in the waiting salon and watched as swathes of rain were driven by gale force winds across the tarmac, seeping in under the doors and making take off totally impossible.  The plane finally was cleared to leave at five in the morning, from where we went down to Ouagadougou in Burkina farso - which was having the same weather, meaning the plane was delayed for a further two hours.  

At nine in the morning we got to Casa, and I hauled my luggage direct onto the train, and tried to doze off for the five hour ride down to Marrakech.  Not having really been aware of my surroundings in a comparative sense for the past few months, I was delighted to find that flying into Morocco was a little like flying into Paris; everything so clean, organised, efficient, EASY - I remember long ago feeling that Morocco was wildly exotic.  It seriously feels like a trip to a shopping complex now, and so wonderfully friendly, hassle free, and sophisticated.  I got off in marrakech and could have cried, it is all so beautiful and fun, and I know where everything is and how to do it all.

Except for one thing - slight problem with the old bank account meant finances were in extremely short supply for the twenty four hours I was there.  I figured after a  couple of weeks being fed gorgeous embassy food, a day and a half of meagre rations wouldn't hurt my waistline - and besides, I'd get fed on the plane, right?

So at five in the morning I trundled out to the airport, to make my seven thirty flight.

Rather hungry, I might add.

Except - the flight didn't go until 9.45.  And I had forgotten - it was good old budget Atlas Blue - and those guys only feed you if you are prepared to pay.  And I, of course, had no hard currency until I could access a UK bank.  So I sat, and watched everyone else hoof into sandwiches, and could only laugh that after walking through the sodding desert for nine months, that I was worrying about food whilst sitting on a plane on my way back to the UK.  Somewhat improbable.

Hauling my endless mountain of baggage, I staggered off at Gatwick, headed straight for the pasty shop (oh GOD that was good) and then onto the Gatwick express; from there direct into Victoria Cross station dead on peak hour, from where I trundled my bags down to the Victoria tube and was roundly cursed by every other commuter for making their lives so uncomfortable with my (tattered and very scummy looking) backpack, camera case, and camel bag.  By the time I lurched off at Walthamstow, there was no way in hell I was dragging my butt onto another bit of public transport, so I fell into a cab - the driver of which turned to look at the unsavoury picture I presented and said, by way of welcome - "jeez love, got enough stuff wiv ya? Anyone'd fink you wos on your way to the moon, an' all."

No, MATE; I just flew back from it.

There can be no more wonderful feeling in the world than returning to friends and homes that you know, and knocking on Steph's door and having it thrown open to find Steve, Rod, Steph, and a cold bottle, was one of the nicest experiences I have had in nearly a year; needless to say, my capacity for endless discourse has been tested to it's very limit ever since, an exercise I just love as we all know!

But equally, I have come back feeling so excited about the next stretch; I guess with every step I take, I learn more about how not to do things, more about what I need to do better, and feel more confident that I can really get there.  Knowing that I still have my camels, that I have the help of the Niger, Canadian, and Australian governments; that all my baggage is organised and ready for my return; and that my flight back is booked for late September, I can focus on writing the next book, searching for further sponsorship, and looking after my health, as soon as I get back to Australia next week, secure in the knowledge that my walk is still very much on.  It is the first time in three years that I have taken a break KNOWING I am going back, and confident about what I am heading into.  It is such a different feeling - the uncertainty is a draining and exhausting experience to go through.  Although I still have a lot of work to do, and still need to raise further funds, my return and continuation is assured, and that feels just fantastic.

I thought I would also use this opportunity to post up some photos and explain them - since it has been really hard to do so.   Before I left Menaka, on the last leg (feels like a lifetime ago), I stayed, as you know, first with Kurt and the NGO crew; and this is the much lauded view from the terrace, both in the evening and during the day, when the fishermen pole their pirogues up and down the Niger.  It was so calming and for me, such a vast difference to my customary environment -  I was captivated.

 

Back in Menaka, I was so lucky to have the hospitality of Moussa's family; and as ever, I loved watching the children and young daughters and relatives of the house, working so hard and cheerfully.  The kids are forever playing, on the donkey, in the yard, never bored, always finding something to do or a way to help.  I love the mud homes, the colors and texture; and the endless beautiful smiles of those who live there.

We bought a sheep to slaughter, and I thought you may like to see a photo of the process.  I guess it will be a while before I get to upload photos of interest, so I thought I better make the most of this last opportunity!

There will be an update on the contact section of the site asap, but if you have media enquiries, please contact  Justine Campbell at Pod Creative - her mobile number is (+61) 0414282555; or by email on justine@podcreative.com.au.

I am looking forward more than I can say to being back in Australia, with my family and friends.  I would also like to take this opportunity to once again thank my sponsors - Dove and the Campaign for Real Beauty, Birkenstock (best shoes in the world - no competition) and Utopia travel insurance, the guys from whom put up with a lot of hassle on this walk, and helped out on a number of vital occasions, including when I was really ill.  I could not have been more fortunate in my sponsors ad I am looking forward to making it work again for you whenIi come back in October.

This walk, the West to East one, has been very much about my Mum, Bev, as many of you would remember - it was after she was diagnosed that I decided to walk for the National Breast Cancer Foundation, an association which dedicates it's resources to research in the area of treatment and cure of Breast Cancer.  If they succeed, their research will benefit women worldwide; all of us knows someone who has been affected by Breast Cancer.  I can only ask that you continue to support the incredibly important work the charity does; I will be walking for them again this October.  But most of all, thanks to my Mum, who has been a rock of support throughout this walk.  I could not have got here without her help, and without hearing her voice on the end of the phone - she is one of the world's great women and an inspiration to me.

To Graeme, thanks for helping me every step of the way on this leg - your advice, support and friendship has been invaluable.  Can't wait for the bottle.

Also just want to put in a mention about Feed the Rat here - www.feedtherat.com - since the King Rat, Tom, has endlessly amused me with "interesting" images throughout this walk (think naked kayakers somewhere in Greenland subzero temperatures - have these boys no shame…) and has been a great supporter of the walk.

This is not a last post or anything, but to all those who have helped me along the way, sent emails, cheered me up when I was down, and helped me believe I could keep going - thankyou so much, I never forget any of you.

Next one from Australia!!  WOOO HOOO…. 

 

Entry Filed under: trekking