Melbourne Times Article
Add comment August 15th, 2007 02:17am cyberhobo
This article appeared in The Melbourne Times on July 11.
City Weekly Article
Add comment August 14th, 2007 01:24pm cyberhobo
This article appeared in City Weekly on July 19.
The Age Article
Add comment August 14th, 2007 01:16pm cyberhobo
This article appeared in The Age on July 30.
Sunday Magazine Article
Add comment August 14th, 2007 09:54am cyberhobo
This article appeared in Sunday Magazine on July 29.
ABC Radio Melbourne
1 comment August 3rd, 2007 06:32am Paula
I need to apologise for the wrong information given about Radio Shropshire - although the interview took place, unfortunately the times were different than those stated. Hopefully I will get a copy up on the site soon that you can listen to.
In the meantime, this coming Friday, 10th August, I am on ABC radio here in Melbourne - on the Jon Faine program. The link to listen is www.abc.net.au/melbourne/mornings/conversation/htm, and I am on between 11-12am.
This is simply a quick update to let you know what is happening and apologise for the previous error. More news next time - I am still working on getting all the media clippings up on the site for viewing.
Cheers
Paula
media coverage
Add comment July 29th, 2007 05:05am Paula
Just to update you - today (Sunday 29th July) I have an article in the Australian Sunday Herald Sun magazine, in Melbourne, and the Sydney Telegraph, titled "Desert Queen". Yep - don't laugh - I feel rather more peasant like than royalty when I am out there, but it makes for a fun title!
I was on the radio on BBC Radio Shropshire yesterday, which was fun. I was having a glass of red in front of the fire at the time - there have to be worse ways of doing an interview!
I was up in Sydney last week, and met with many of the Birkenstock retailers there. It was great to meet the people who are selling the shoes I wear - there were a lot of amused chuckles at the state of my old Birkenstocks.
I also met with the Dove team, and hope to be seeing more of them over the next few weeks. It is a great experience for me to meet with the people who enabled my walk to continue, and show them the images and stories from the walk. It also helps me to keep focussed on going back.
I have been mainly staying with my Mum, in central Melbourne, but have also been spending a lot of time up in the Dandenongs with friends. I enjoy so much walking through the hills and forest up here - although the temperature is a bit of a shock, the scenery is just stunning, and it is great to see kangaroos bouncing away as I walk in the early evening. Curling up in front of the fire with good red and a good book is another joy that I just can't get enough of at the moment; it seems such a long time since I could claim time for myself, and relax in solitude. I make the most of it, knowing it won't be forever.
I miss the desert. It is suprising how quickly I find myself at home back here, and whilst at first passionately grateful to be well, resting, and in a safe and friendly environment, it wasn't long before I began to feel impatient to return and finish this thing. I guess on some level it is quite difficult to really relax knowing that my camels are still out there, and half the desert still waits for me to walk across it. I set a goal to get to the other side and often I think I just cannot rest until that is done.
I look at my old shoes and think about wearing a second pair down; I think of how hard it was this time and what I can do next time to make it easier or more manageable. I reflect on how much I have learned through this last trek and of how much I have still to achieve and master; a big part of me is just itching to get back there and complete it, do it better than I did last time. I guess each trek teaches me knew things, and leaves me hungry to do more and more.
Friend and mentor Graeme Joy, the first Australian to ski to the North Pole, and the person who has been on the end of the phone during this last trek, has spoken to me a lot about maintaining focus and keeping an eye on the end goal. I guess at times it is difficult to remain determined to finish something; there is a tendency to think "oh no, here I am again", when confronted with issues of refinancing and re-equipping to go back. But I know he is right; although at times I toy with the idea of forgetting the rest of the Sahara and just walking across Australia, or something more manageable, I know deep down that it would always feel unfinished if I left it now. It is slightly daunting to think of both the financial practicalities - pitching for sponsorship all over again - and also of the physical realities - such as heading back into the horrid prickle country. The cultural isolation, physical exhaustion, and mental challenges of being out there for months on end are something I have come to realise never really get easier. But they are also an integral part of what I do, and offer incredible opportunities for growth and developement; I wouldn't swap the experience.
I find myself wanting to talk about the expedition a lot, this time; I have bored mates and family senseless, I think. But I have also come to realise that in some ways there are parts of the experience that just can't be shared; so often lately I seem to have been asked what was the hardest part, or when I felt scared. I guess people want to hear tales of guns and robbery, or thirst and near death. But the reality is that the most desperate times are by far the most mundane; when you just can't face another day plodding through prickles and dunes, or cooking more rice for a fussy guide, or facing another round of monotonous questions from nomads who find you as weird and wonderful as a peacock in Antarctica. There is nothing particularly dramatic about moments like those, but they are the nuts and bolts of what wears you down and drives you nuts. When it is really tough on a physical or dramatic level, you are too busy in it, handling it, to be worried or depressed by it. It is the mindnumbing grind of routine that can become tough and depressing, particularly on those really long 25 - 30 day hauls, when it simply feels as though you will never get there, and the km's pass horrifically slowly on the map.
Anyway - despite all of those things, I know that going back is what I want to do. In some ways I will never feel truly successful until I have crossed this thing - and that is what life is really about for us all, isn't it? To find that one thing that defines success for us - and then achieve it? Everyone has a different definition of what constitutes success, I think. And even though mine may seem a little unorthodox - in the end, it is what works for me.
Cheers.
Australia
2 comments July 5th, 2007 02:49am Paula
This has taken me a while to get to - sorry. I guess that when I am not walking it feels as though I have nothing important to say; but then the walk keeps going, just from a distance!
It has been wonderful to be back in Australia. Birkenstock began a publicity campaign before I returned, which has led to doing various media interviews (nothing mindblasting, never fear, just the local stuff) which has been a fun experience. After years of attempting to plug my walk it has almost been a shock to find people actually interested in it! Obviously from my perspective, anything that works for Birkenstock, Dove and Utopia works for me, since without these guys I would have neither a walk nor happy feet; and besides, I have had a load of fun. Yesterday I was on TV for the first time - a whole earth shattering 10 minutes on the Channel Ten David and Kim breakfast program in Melbourne, but it was a great experience and, once I got over a crippling case of nerves, a good time. Don't know that I am cut out for media stardom (imagine having to watch one's dietary intake - NEVER) but I can sure enjoy the ride whilst it is there.
News from Niger is not looking overly great; the rebellion has morphed into out and out violence between the "rebels" and military. But I am taking the view that for the time being, it is the summer, during which time the trade routes north are not used and nor is tourism at its peak. It will be interesting to see how much pressure is applied to alter the situation once the season commences and locals wish to get on with their usual trade and tourist businesses - rebellion has its place but not, I rather think, when it interferes with the economy. So we shall see. In the meantime I am staying in close contact and coming up with plan "B"s. Most of all I am glad of the rest, and still looking forward to returning to walk the Agadez - Bilma stretch - the part I have always looked forward to. Let's just hope that bombs have stopped going off by the time I want to return.
In the meantime I am absolutely loving being home. It is diabolically cold, yes - a shock after the heat - but that is more than compensated for by the awesome food, wine, and mates. On top of everything else the snow is falling in droves, so I am hoping to put skis on before I head back to the desert. My Mum is doing well, and I think is all the better for not receiving frantic sat phone calls from the desert!
I am working on putting together speaking presentations, which I am hugely enjoying. Obviously speaking is something most people wish I would do rather less of - but hey, it's fun for me. I am just so pathetically grateful to be back at the moment that there is little I don't take pleasure in. I find myself wandering down the street some days, looking about me in sheer wonderment at the quiet, calm prosperity; at all the people sitting contentedly in cafes, sipping a coffee and chatting to friends, smiling and happy and somehow peaceful in a way I had forgotten existed. Perhaps it is the relief of being somewhere I simply fit in; there is no need for people to stare at me, or approach me to talk, and the anonymity is a real joy after months of being the centre of attention wherever I went. It has also given me a greater appreciation of where I come from, something that happened last time I came back to Australia - the ease and friendliness of people here, and the incredible beauty of the landscape itself. I have been spending a bit of time up in the Dandenongs, a mountainous area just outside Melbourne. Going for a walk up there is the most incredible joy; towering eucalypts that smell sharp and rich, especially after rain, and long grassy rides leading to hilltops overlooking the lights of the city. At this time of year with the inclement weather there are often heavy purple clouds rolling across the sky in the late afternoon, so the sun shines golden through them as it is setting, and the city lights glow in welcome, all surrounded by lush rolling green hills. I sit up there on a rock and look out and feel so passionately grateful that I come from such a wild and beautiful country; I have missed those trees and the magnificent space of here so much on this leg. It is wonderful to be home.
I have also, after months of eating a LOT of goat, been just loving eating vast amounts of kangaroo meat. I used to eat it a bit but have developed a serious addiction to it on my return; sear it off on a hot pan fast, and eat it with kakadu plum sauce and maybe a bit of goats chees (ok there had to be goat somewhere) and I am telling you - heaven. I have steadily been ticking off my food addictions, sushi, blue cheese, red wine, GOOD chocolate, fresh green vegies; and although the pounds are piling on, the mental luxury of it is well worth it!
It feels great to be home this time. I get pangs of severe walk sickness sometimes; I find I can get depressed very easily if I don't make time to get out and walk regularly. And I am still waking with a jolt at "camel hour", about 4.30 in the morning. At times I can get really distressed when I can't hear the camels, or when I am confused as to my whereabouts; and I miss the stars above and the wind on my face. But there will be time again for that, and I know that in a few months, I will be lying in my swag shivering and wishing I didn't have to leap up and track wayward animals! So after I wake up now, I take a few minutes to luxuriate in the fact that I can roll over and go back to sleep, with no fire to make or guide to appease. But as much as I love it, I know I will equally love being back in my walk, and back in the desert; so I guess I am finally coming to realise that all of this is just a balance, that there is space for both places and both lives, in my world, and that for now, I still need both of them.
To all of you who still email me, I truly appreciate it. I wondered - since I am back here and walking - is there anything you would actually like to see photos of out here in Aust? I guess there are plenty of you who live overseas and have never been here - if there is something in particular you would like to see, let me know, and I will get a picture.
Cheers and I promise to write more regularly.
Adventure of a different kind
3 comments June 5th, 2007 12:50pm Paula
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….
Diplomatic Niger…
2 comments May 17th, 2007 05:04pm Paula
Well – never boring, but this time, rather more exciting than I would have liked, I’m afraid.
This is coming to you from Niamey, the capital of Niger. I am here staying in the home of the Canadian Ambassador, Guy Villeneuve, a singularly decent individual who has been absolutely wonderful to me during the events of the past few days.
About a week ago I walked into the village of Tillia, in Niger, after the stretch from Menaka. To summarise the walk briefly – Ibrahim, my guide, is without any competition the best I have ever had; it totally breaks my heart that he was only able to walk with me for the one stretch, as I cannot praise highly enough his intelligence, patience, dignity and good humour, not to mention his skills as a guide. Utterly brilliant and a true mate.
Unfortunately I got sick – yet again – with the same kidney infection that has been coming and going for months now. This time it was really nasty, and I was pretty out of it there for a few days.
Nonetheless, we limped across the border, and into the tiny village of Tillia – where Ibrahim made a sat call to his family to learn there had been a death and that he would have to return immediately (he had previously planned to walk to Agadez with me). He took me to the home of the village chief, to ensure that I was left in good hands.
Before I left Mali, I had many long discussions with various authorities regarding my visa situation. It is customary for tourists to Niger from Mali to obtain their visas at the military checkpoint at the frontier. My route was going nowhere near the checkpoint, and I wasn’t sure how to proceed; the advice I received from various quarters was that the visa was a non-issue, same as when I entered Mali, and that I should simply present myself to the authorities in the first village I came to – which was Tillia.
I was just about to do so – having entered the village perhaps an hour before – when the police came to me instead. Within short order it became clear, in the most diplomatic terms possible (Nigerans are incredibly polite and respectful, on the whole) that the visa issue was not going to be straightforward at all. I was instructed that I would have to travel with the police down to Tahoua, the nearest substantial town, 200km away, to meet with the Governor; I was told that this was a ‘formality’ and that it was the Governor who would grant my visa. I was also told I had to leave immediately.
Now, no offence or anything, but after coming in from a two week stretch, running a fever, and in considerable pain, the last thing I felt like doing was getting straight into the back of a four wheel drive pick up and bouncing down a rough piste track for five hours; nonetheless, that is what I did.
The chief of the village, who is incredibly kind, accepted responsibility for my camels and baggage and I felt totally comfortable leaving everything with him.
When I got to Tahoua, and went straight to the Governor, he in turn informed me that in fact I would have to take a bus down to Niamey – and meet with the Minister for the Interior; I was told that this, also, was just a ‘formality’. I guess you can imagine that by this time, I wasn’t so sure, particularly given the fact that I had not been in possession of my passport since arrival. I took the eight hour bus ride down to Niamey and went directly from the bus to the office of the Minister, where I waited a further few hours for him to see me, by which stage it was late afternoon; I was tired, sick, needed a wash and some sleep – badly.
I had a ten minute interview with a very harassed Minister, during which he informed me that I could – under no circumstances – walk anywhere in Niger; that the current political climate was way too dangerous, and that I was to collect my camels and belongings and get out of the country asap. In addition, he would generously give me a visa – on the proviso that I leave. I wasn’t given a chance to explain anything about my walk, the history behind it, or how I had come to be on foot in Niger; the interview was abrupt and to the point. I staggered out feeling pretty shocked; I was then taken by the police to an out of the way hotel where I was deposited – without my passport.
The next day I phoned the number for the police that I had been given and asked to be taken to the Canadian embassy, which has responsibility for Australian travellers in Niger. The police were, for the duration of my dealings with them, extremely kind and courteous, and took me there straight away, where I was placed in the care of the chef du Bureau and Conseiller for Canada, the amazing Guy Villeneuve. Guy listened to my tale, got onto the phone straight away, and then promptly brought me back to the lovely home he shares with his partner, Edith; and invited me to stay with them for as long as I needed too.
I can’t even begin to describe to you how relieved I felt at that point; the night before had been a sleepless stress of hell, wondering if I would ever get out of here or my passport back; suddenly I had the protection of the Canadian embassy, and someone on my side who was in a position to help. Since then, events have moved rapidly and changed on a day to day basis. But here is the final result.
The Niger government cannot in all conscience grant me a visa to walk at the moment in this country as there is a rebellion to the North that is growing daily worse and is yet to be brought remotely under control. The government believes it can and will regain control of the situation; but nobody is too sure exactly when that will happen. However, given that it is also the hot season, I have been advised to return to Australia, and come back to Niger in October – at which time the government believes the political situation will have stabilised, the weather will be cool enough to travel comfortably, and they will be happy to provide me with the support I need to carry on. In addition, Guy and the international diplomatic community here have been incredibly supportive, as have the Australian government, and Guy has offered to continue to work on my behalf. My only other option was to truck my camels up to Libya; but this would mean a) missing the bit of desert that I am most anxious to walk, namely the stretch of Tenere between Agadez and Bilma; and also taking my camels by truck through what is currently, effectively, a war zone. In addition, I really want to get my health situation sorted out, my sat comms fixed and organised at last, and all the other little details fixed that have been difficult to deal with out here.
I felt before that I could simply not leave this walk under any circumstances; but I feel that these are perhaps the one set of circumstances I know I can leave under, because my return, the welfare of my camels, and the continuance of my walk, are all assured. Rather than worrying about everything, I can return to Australia for the hot season knowing that everything is in good hands and awaiting my return. On the off chance that Niger has not resolved its political issues by October, I will recommence from Libya; but I am hoping, very much, that I am able to continue from where I left off.
So – there it is. The walk isn’t finished, but it is on hold for the next three months, until the weather changes and the rebellion dies down. And guess what? That gets me home just in time for the ski season….
This isn’t really a photo post, but I want to add something at the end here. After a really stressful time in Bamako and Gao trying to get everything for Niger organised, I was, as I mentioned briefly, taken in by the wonderful community of ex-pats working for the Peace Corps and various NGO’s in Gao. I went to stay at the home of Kurt, who works for the European Union; he has the most beautiful house by the river, it is wonderful. This is the view I woke up to in the morning….(sorry pics added in later I hope since connection not functioning well)
The community in Gao looked after me so well – and Sarah, I cannot thankyou enough for the medication you gave me as, quite seriously, I reckon it saved me on this last leg. I have been fortunate over and over in the people I have met on this walk; the crew in Gao, and now the wonderfully kind diplomatic community in Niamey, are incredible examples. Moussa's family in Menaka was also just amazing. When my camels came waddling back through their gate I simply couldn’t believe my eyes; in fact, I believe I shed a few tears. They were the fattest, happiest camels they have been since Nouadhibou, fit as fiddles and raring to go. I swear they even smiled at me as they came through the gate.
They got a new travel mate; over a very serious morning at the Menaka market, observed by everything in a turban from Algeria to Mauritania, I inspected camels up and down and all around until I finally settled on my new guy. I am not sure my choice was great; he is strong, and very good quality, and calm – but he is also young, and as such does not have the same voyage experience as the others. On a couple of occasions he has got a bit scatty, or lazy; I like to think he will get used to the voyage (he certainly improved on the last stretch, every day) but Ibrahim reckoned he was just a bit too young and I don’t know, he could be right. I figure he has three months or more now to feed up though and hang out with the other boys, so we will see how he is doing when I get back.
As for my other two? I know it is seriously woeful to admit it, but man, I really LOVE those two camels. I am so proud of them – they have come further than every nomad predicted, with such strength and courage (yeah I know nomads are laughing at me going hey, Paula, feed and water a camel and rest him and he will work, it is just like a car, there is nothing personal in it – and I know they are right – but that doesn’t change how grateful I feel to those two animals for getting me this far), and now they will get the chance to rest that they need in order to do the tough stretch coming up. I have been offered serious money for those two camels and I tell you what – I wouldn’t part with them for a million bucks. Bolshy Sod and Zaina are coming to Cairo with me and I am going to be thrilled to walk in with two of the camels I left Nouadhibou with.
I only have 3500km to go to get to Cairo. That’s nothing! And I will be coming back fit, healthy, and with sat comms WORKING at last, to healthy camels. I feel really content in myself that this is the way to go – and very happy that I got more than half way before I had to stop for the hot season. Had it not been for the rebellion, I certainly could also have got to Bilma. But I am ready for a break, and know it will leave me more than ready to come back and carry on. I feel as if I am leaving behind a community of friends and family both in Niger and Mali. To all who have helped me so generously here – the families of my guides, local chiefs, ex-pats, and everyone else I have met along the way – a huge thankyou. To Guy and Edith – I cannot express strongly enough my gratitude and appreciation for the care and kindness you have shown me, nor for your support in resolving what could have been an incredibly tough and ugly situation. Thankyou so very much.
I will post again soon….
Menaka again
1 comment April 26th, 2007 06:13pm Paula
This is an extremely brief one to let you know that things got a bit delayed - in a lovely way - in Gao (more on that later, but briefly - to the chicks from the Peace Corps, and Kurt, Marco, Julien and all the other NGO ex-pats - a huge THANKYOU for your hospitality and kindness, especially to Kurt for the blissful house by the river! I will never forget you all), when I put up a proper post from Agadez. The camels were seriously in good feed and needed the rest, and I think I did too, because I feel vastly cheered and more positive about the upcoming leg than I did when I got here. I bought a new camel this morning at the market and he is just fantastic; I had the support of all of Menaka I think and paid a price I was happy with - I think it was an endless source of amusement ot the local traders to watch an Aussie girl inspecting their camels. It is the first time I have done all the choosing and negotiating myself, and I am really happy with the result. My own camels are finally looking brilliant and didn't seem to horrified to see me again, and I am just thrilled that they are able to keep going with me.
So I am off tomorrow and will be out for a month. The computer had to be sent back but it is already in Australia and hopefully on it's way to being fixed. Meanwhile, I have loads of photos and things to tell you - but they will have to wait for the next time. Til then, go well and I hope, so will I.
Sarah, Brie, James, Kurt, Marco, Vincent, Julien, et al: Merci beaucoup, and I will really look forward to the next wonderful Italian pasta on the terrace overlooking the Niger….You are all wonderful and I shall think of you as I go.
Cheers!