constanttrek

where to go from here

October 1st, 2007

When I am back in Australia - or the UK - I know that my posts are frustratingly sporadic.  This is often because I feel as if what I have to say is pretty boring when I am not walking; and also because I don't like to make everyone party to the million small struggles that occur as I try to get the walk back up and running.  But I think a full update might be due.

I have been planning, ever since I came back, to return to the UK and then Africa on October 20th.  I have waited with bated breath for every update from the Niger authorities and the wonderful Guy Villeneuve, Canadian consul to Niger who was so helpful to me when I was there.   But every bulletin has brought no good news, and the situation has seemed to remain fairly desperate.

I have tried to work out the logistics of getting into Libya and continuing there; but seem stonewalled on every front, as I can't even get to my camels to ship them up North at the moment, and the Southern region of Libya is also unsafe.  Added to this, I feel immensely frustrated at the thought of having to miss such a huge chunk of my walk at such a vital stage.

Then there has been the usual hassles of funding; but I have felt loathe to head into pitching strongly, until I have a firm view on what is happening out there, and can guarantee sponsors a return on their bucks.  

I have waited as long as I can, and this week yet more bad news came through from Niger, and I felt despondent and lacklustre.

But I went to Adelaide last week to address the last of the Birkenstock retailers and their audiences.  I love doing Birkenstock presentations; the people are always wonderful, and it takes me back to the desert and the walk and I always leave feeling reinvigorated.

And suddenly I just got - well - plain mad.

I have NOT come this far to get stonewalled.  I think some part of me has been sitting back and just hoping for the best, hoping that things will improve, hoping, somehow, that I will just get there.  And now, three weeks out from my fly date, it just aint happening.  For family reasons not necessary to explain here, I must return to the UK regardless on the 20th for a brief time.  I am not deciding - up until the day I go - to cross this walk out, not until I have lobbied every sodding individual on the face of this earth as hard and often as I can, and explored every single option that even vaguely presents itself.  I think about putting it off for a year; and if I must, I will; but that has to remain the absolute last resort.

There are several problems.  One is that my book comes out next May.  That means that I have to be back here then to fulfil my obligations to random House, the publishers.  This precludes me puttiing the walk off until Christmas.  The second is that because I have not got funding at this stage, I am still totally broke - something that I refuse to worry about at this point, but which is unsettling, even though ultimately, I believe, solvable.

But there are a million other considerations.  If my camels must remain in Niger, do I want to go into Libya and pay out a colossal sum of money - in a hurry - to set the whole expedition up again, when I will still be missing a vast chunk of my walk and thus not achieving my original goal?  Even worse - I would be setting myself up in a new and strange country, without contacts, in a hurry.  A recipe for disaster, in my book, and I am doing all I can do find people who may be able to assist.

I think about putting things on hold, and about the other options  

 - like perhaps doing the Australian walk this year and going back to Niger next year.  And I can't say that it doesn't appeal, in the face of all the problems.

But I feel furious and resentful about this; and, I confess, slightly bloody minded. At what point is "putting off", really "giving up"?  Sure I see that I cannot fight political instability.  But in my heart I know damn well that if I could just get on the ground, and hire local nomads who know the route and understand the conflict, that I could get through that territory safe as houses.  But since I am now known to authorities and Guy has vouched for me, any nefarious ideas I may harbour in the dark nights aren't really an option, no matter how tempting.

And I can't just give it away.  I have held onto this dream so hard and for so long that to let it go is a mammoth task.  Only a couple of days ago, I had decided that fighting on was futile, that I had best simply cut my losses and put it on hold.  But I woke the following morning with new ideas and impulses surging through my brain and I thought:  no way.  Until I know without any shred of doubt that every single option is gone - I do NOT let this go.  And there it is - I still want this.  I want it so much it hurts.  I miss my walk.  I miss my camels.  I AM BLOODY WELL NOT DONE YET.

I walk around Melbourne endlessly, pounding the pavement and drinking too much coffee, thoughts churning in my brain and ideas cropping up and being discarded.  I have been through the now familiar cycle of despair, despondency, depression, too much booze, and guilt and low self esteem.  I know the way this stuff works, now, after three years of going and coming back.  I try to ride it out, cry the tears and not put it on my family and friends too much.  I know also now that no matter how well adjusted I may think I am when I get back, that it takes some months for the experiences to really filter through, and my equilibrium to restore.  This process has been even tougher this time as I have tried to explain my walk in the media, something which is often difficult, and frequently is misinterpreted.  At times I have felt as if my walk has been hijacked in some way, that I myself have been taken over by other's perceptions of what my walk is and what I do.

But when I wake up in the night and the walk is storming through my brain, I don't think about any of that.  I lie there and I think - is this over for me?  Am I done yet?  Is this still what I really want to do, what I am MEANT to do, or am I just being stubborn and obstructive?  Do I need to let this go now?

And from deep inside me - every time - comes a resounding NO.  This walk is hard, yes.  My God, it is the hardest thing I have ever done, on levels that I find difficult to explain even to those closest to me.  And I don't always enjoy being out there, or feel confident in my abilities to make it through.  But for some bizarre, unfathomable reason - it is still what I WANT to do.  And a part of me will never, ever rest until it is done.  I can't give it up.  It is who I am and what I do, and I will not allow that to die, no matter what.

It may end up that this gets put on hold - even for a couple of months.  At the moment it seems I face concrete no matter where I turn.  But in some strange way, I feel more motivated and passionate about it now than I have from the day I returned.  Maybe in some strange way it is because for the first time I am facing the fact that someone else is making the decisions; that it isn't ME controlling whether or not I go back, but external influences.  And that makes me as mad and determined as hell.

I said once that I wouldn't let this walk take over my life; that I wouldn't dwell in a stagnant place, or let it govern my existence.  But by the same token, I am stuffed if I am giving up because the going got tough.  And I think it is worth fighting for.

So if you are wondering what is going on back here in Australia; well, I walk, and I eat (a LOT), and I dream and scheme and write and pitch and plan.  i discuss every option with my friend and mentor Graeme Joy, and we try to plan a way around the obstacles.  I cry and I rant to my mother and she cooks and listens and is the most wonderful person on the face of this earth.  I talk to my sister and I talk to my mates, and everyone has ideas, and they all persevere with me even when I think I must drive them up the wall and back again.

And I thank you all for that.

I don't know what is coming from here and I cannot make any guarantees.  But I know one thing:

I will NOT give up.  Not now, not ever.

 And I don't want to.

On that note….must be time for cake. 

Entry Filed under: trekking