Impermanence

I think that for many years that I was only capable of changing superficial things. I could study, and improve my grades. I could cycle more, and improve my fitness.  I didn't realise that it was possible to change how I responded to situations.

I used to be a planner. It was the way I used to manage my fears of uncertainty In fact, the main thing that stopped me doing some travel in my early 20s like many of my compatriots was an inability to plan away my fears. Where would I live? How would I find a job? What would I do if I got in trouble, got lost, was faced with a difficult situation? Who could I call for help?

They all seem abit silly now. I think those various fears wore off over the course of life. I've left my house keys in the wrong country and needed a locksmith to get in, I've forgotten most of my warm clothes on one winter holiday and remedied it in a discount shopping mall. I've taken a night bus in the Philippines that ended at 4am - and was pleased to discover that I didn't need accommodation as most people stayed on the bus to sleep (or as much sleep as you can get in the parking lot behind a karaoke bar). I failed to find my planned hostel in Paris before dark and bailed to the next hotel I could find.

These days I hate planning things on trips now for fear of limiting myself or creating "rushing around".  But more than that I realise all things are temporary - whatever the situation the problems rarely persist.  I'm more capable than I used to give myself credit for. The stress I used to feel when I couldn't plan has been replaced by a stress when I have to plan. I'd like that to be further replaced with equanimity.

Change is inevitable.

Growth is optional.

I choose growth.

Habits, and Overcoming the Buts

I was meant to write a blog post two weekends ago.

And didn't.

I was meant to write a blog post last weekend.

And didn't.


I have lots of excuses. In the first there was feeling sick with a cold, a concert, a lost cellphone, an early rugby game on TV, a morning nap, lawn mowing, and a childs birthday party. In the second there was a flight, some rowing on the avon, another concert, a brunch, an art trail and another flight. Combined with normal weekend things like preparing some food and cleaning the house and the laundry I sometimes feel that I don't have enough time to do these things which are going to change life for the better.

I know its a lie to myself.

On the other hand I know the things I want to change are worth it.

My mental chatter helps me to procrastinate about anything from stretching, to doing the vacuuming, to doing the running drills that I know are the first step to actually going for a run. My mental chatter tells me that it is more important to get to bed at 10:30 than doing 15 minutes of stretching. It also says that its better to mow the lawn than to go for a bike ride, to vacuum than go for a run, to bake rather than write a blog post.

My priorities get distorted and its often unclear why I'm making the tradeoff. Sometime I think its because I'm afraid of the pain of stretching. But I suspect its actually because I believe I wont be successful in fixing the injury.

It sounds like an overly pessimistic point of view doesn't it. I'm not like this about most things - in most of my challenges I believe its my persistence that makes me most successful, particularly in academic pursuits or in problem solving challenges like how to make skirting boards fit together. When it comes to physical fitness or skills I have a pessimistic streak that suggests to me that nothing I do will make a difference. That it is futile. So I procrastinate heavily about "training" or stretching or running drills.

I procrastinate about cleaning as its just going to get dirty again.

I procrastinate about blogging as I'm sure no one will notice if I don't.

So it is for me and blogging. If I've lost a sense of improvement, that I'm adding value to myself or others then I lose heart quickly.

I'm resorting to the wisdom of Yoda. Do. Or do not. There is no try. 

Identity.... and What People Might Think.

When I'm trying to make a change in myself I find the thing that is most difficult to overcome is an attachment to an identity.

It is all abit of a sham - liberally sprinkling your daily or sporting wear with labels to match the identity you want for yourselves. Whether thats Lululemon, or Vans, or a vintage Metallica Tshirt. Of course, advertising works to leverage this - presenting you with an image of what you could be and trying to convince you to pay money to let other people know what you want to be so that they think you are.

To me, the most important question is who are you really?

I have an underlying problem. By outside appearances I'm pretty normal and boring. House. Cats. Car. Vegetable garden. Too many bicycles. Corporate job. Good at numbers. Family at a distance. Regularly exercise. Volunteer regularly. The things that raise eyebrows very slightly are my willingness to turn up to social gatherings on a bicycle and my current single and childless status  (at ~38 even!). And its fair to say potentially my current haircut.

I want people to know that I'm more than that. I crave a world that values people for their diversity - of economics, of fashion, of skin colour, gender, music. I dont want to work as an office monkey until I'm 65 and retire on the pension to some small community by the sea.  I want to live and experience the whole world, and not in a 3 week chunk once a year. That desire scares me greatly as it causes alot of fear and pain and uncertainty.

I want people to know that I'm not a Boring Kinda Girl.

It seems ridiculous to think that I want to do something just so that others know what I know inside. I shouldn't need to get a tattoo or wear the brand or die my hair magenta to match the slightly subversive theme that runs through my brain. Yet part of me still wants to do it.

So what am I? A matrix of confusions. Some the same as you, some different. Some I'm willing to show you and some that I'm ashamed to show you. I even tried to write a list and didn't get past the fourth bullet point.

How can be myself and show the real me if there are parts of me that I'm embarrassed about? Why can't I write those things down? I think I'm afraid that people will look at me differently as a result. That they might not feel comfortable around me and would judge me and won't love me.

This link has an example which is rather uncomfortable watching. I'd love to be as brave as Lewis but I'm still scared of what people might think. Can I drop the shield?

Stated Expectations - the Sequel

Please see previous post here for the background. Caveat: I'm not one for word-for-word as I can't remember dialogue well.

After being told to sort it out, a meeting between me and Merida was scheduled for Tuesday. I prepared as best I could. Above all I wished to avoid making her feel defensive while expressing my point of view. Which sounds achievable.

We started the session on an optimistic but slightly weird note - she apologised for mentioning to our boss once removed that I seemed to be angry at her, and she didn't know why. She thought that might have prompted Mr Peacock to get us to "sort it out". I agreed that she was probably right that it forced the issue, but it still needed to be discussed. She also said that she thought she needed to harden up - to accept the anger and ignore it. Which perplexed me because that wasn't the point.

So I wanted firstly to explore what her issues were with me. I tried to create a safe space - its just you and me, you can say whatever you want. And her main issue seemed to be with my "angry outburst". No one else gets angry at her and she doesn't understand it nor does she ever wish to experience it again. I found this weird because my version of an angry outburst involves swearing and name calling, raised voices, ranting, and arm waving. I did none of those things. I was angry. But I didnt swear, raise my voice or arm wave. I said "Ok, now stop. Now go away." With admittedly a very cold tone. Its so confusing if you live a life with my set of benchmarks anyway!

So I had written myself a list of questions, hoping to lead Merida along the path of how I think of things. It was intended to start from a viewpoint - are we equal? Should we be? Can we be? To - what is my job, with respect to you? And onwards to was there another way she could sort out her IT problems. But I didn't get a chance. At the first question - are we equal? "what do you mean?. When I got to what is my job, with respect to her she shut me down "Where are you going with this, what do you mean?" and straight into defensive posturing about her knowledge being like swiss cheese and that she was working through filling the holes where she could.

I got a sense of bitterness about doing this work which isn't what she wants to be doing. It was very much rammed down my throat that she thought I should be relieved of any responsibility for things she did or didn't do. In fact she proclaimed it loudly. And if I didn't like her requests I should just say no to them.

To be honest, that's not how I roll. If I can, I do try to help people. Not to mention Mr Peacock wants us all to help each other when we can. I don't say no to people. But that is part of the curiousness isn't it - I did tell her no more for the SQL stuff. But it didn't register. How can I say that so that people understand it?

I walked out of the meeting perplexed. I did not get to have my say at all without getting shut down with "just say no!" or "you don't have to fix my problems for me".  And I didn't manage to get any words at all out without triggering her defensiveness. But I could live with her proposed solution though it would mean feeling like I was sitting on my hands.

On reflection Merida's angry during the meeting was far higher on the angry scale for me than mine was.

The perplexed feeling lasted about 15 minutes. Until Merida emailed a bullet-pointed "summary" of what we talked about very much from her perspective. Then I was outraged and there was much ranting and tears. Fortunately not at her.  So it could've been worse. I chose not to reply to that email as I felt it would turn into an ongoing rebuttal which would not help improve the constructiveness of our relationship.

So again, I'm stuck. I want to be open with what I'm thinking and feeling. I want to help Merida to learn this stuff. But I don't want to become resentful about it. Again I find myself feeling like I'm sulking, holding back from her, which is not what I want at all.

The road to being a good human being is a long and windy one.

Stated Expectations

It was inevitable that my desire to be heard would spill over into the workplace. I wanted to be able to have an open conversation to let people know what I expected in interactions and be able to follow up.

Turns out it just isn't that simple.

I've been working with someone whom we shall call Merida. In the course of her training I've needed to get her up to speed with a software package called Microsoft SQL Server Management Studio. This software allows its users to view database data and is invaluable in troubleshooting pretty much everything. As a data-geek I love that I can see how the data is arranged and build a query to cut it in different shapes. At a more practical level our jobs are dependent on good data, and problems with them happen. Because the problems are not regular you need more insight than other means can give you.

After a period of training early this year and informally saying "you really need this software" I wasn't getting anywhere. So formally (in a specific subject only email) I requested that she get the software installed back in May. There were always reasons - too busy, I've logged a job but IT hasn't got back to me. Oh they tried, but it didnt install, I'll follow up. By July we were preparing to hand my things over to her while I was in Samoa. Again, formally I reminded her - you need to get the software sorted. Meanwhile, whenever she got stuck with data problems I had to dive in to figure out what was going. This was tiresome, not only from a personal disruption perspective but also that she needed to learn how to use the software in order to be able to cover me adequately and was still not even able to get onto it.

She got through the two weeks I was away in August without it. But about a week after I came back something went wrong and she needed me to get data out. By this time I was rather fed up. With the same kind of mentality that I successfully used with my un-motivated flatmate I told her this would be the last time. You need to get this sorted.

By this stage the reason given was that the computer needed to be rebuilt and she needed 3 clear days to sort it out. We've worked together a year and I've never known her to have a "clear day".  I'm a big believer in the Stockdale Paradox - "
You must retain faith that you will prevail in the end, regardless of the difficulties.

AND at the same time…You must confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be."

The brutal facts were there was not going to be any resolution to the computer issues in the near future to enable the software installation. She needed to pursue a different solution.

Crunch time happened last week when one of the data feeds failed to load data. Again, I was called.  I didn't want to hear from her what I perceived as continued excuses. I cut her pretty short and hung up. I had a quick look at the data and then shoulder-tapped Pooh in the office for the emailed data snapshot. 10 minutes later I  gave her, rather unembellished, what she needed.

What followed was abit of rant or vent at our mutual, ever-tolerant, people manager Mr Peacock. I don't know how to get her to listen? She needs the software. I've been asking her to do it for months. Mr Peacock was of the opinion she needed the three days and (probably) that I was being rather unsympathetic.

While I am keen on gold-plated solutions, given the brutal facts of the situation I was happy to use duct-tape when required. The next morning I went into the ICT area and explained the situation. The Energizer Bunny was there and went into solution mode, suggesting either getting her a second machine or getting her to remote onto one. The latter could be actioned immediately without any delay or cost. We could have done this back in May if needed.

Which should potentially be a happy-ever-after-the-end kinda thing. But no - again my feedback is that I'm "rude and unprofessional". And now we've "got to sort it out".

It is a similar kind of situation to my communication with my unmotivated flatmate. He also had high standards for his proposed solution but to his credit found some duct tape before things really got stressful. Merida, on the other hand, chose to stick her head in the sand and hope for the best.  Worse, from my perspective, she was surprised that it annoyed me and upset that my response was no longer sympathetic and polite.

I don't believe I should be responsible for someone elses IT issues. Nor their unwillingness to address those issues in a timely manner. The softly and politely method was not working to achieve the ultimate goal - Merida skilled up to solve any problem handed to her. I'm attacking my green Avoidance but in doing so am perceived to be attacking someone even more green in Avoidance than myself.

If I extend the Paradox further - I've got to believe that this is all going to turn out alright in the end. I have my fingers crossed for "sorting it out" tomorrow.

No Doom on Mount Doom

Names have been changed to protect the innocent.  All photo credits Christopher Robin and the Energizer Bunny due to technology fail on my part.

*

Pooh had a winter mission to tick off. In his younger days he was a strapping young bear leaping small mountains in a single bound. But after years of children and too many years of corporate desk jockeying Pooh knew he needed a change. He had targetted Mt Ngaruahoe as a winter goal. It wasn't going to be easy. Pooh set about training by tackling several of the minor peaks of Wellington when time allowed. I had walked with Pooh once before during our Team Days when we tackled the Tongariro Crossing and and knew him to be slow and steady, but capable of continuing all day. 

Pooh started floating the idea of summiting Ngaruahoe in winter around the office and fairly quickly he had a potential crew of around 15 people including me. I was fizzing at the idea... snow, mountains, what could go wrong? After some serious perusal of the coffee grounds a date was set at the end of August. 

My heart sunk. The weekend set was the one immediately after my trip to Samoa. To do it, I would be returning late on a Thursday night from the tropics, be home Friday morning, then be off in a car for 5 hours to National Park before a big walk in the snow on the Saturday. I was not keen on the "rushing around" that would be required and worried about going back to work tired after the trip. So, after about a week of shall-I-shan't-I I chose to decline. 

The last weekend of August brought relatively fine weather but an extremely high avalanche risk. Pooh consulted the mountain-wise Owl who recommended a postponement. 

Once again the coffee grounds were examined and everyone was keenly aware that there was little winter remaining. Schedules and children and partners were juggled and put into the magic number machine which gave us a new date of the end of September.   Woohoo! I'm in!

Our new crew was composed of Pooh, Christopher, Energizer Bunny, Owl, Owl's son Tigger, the Eagle, and myself.  I booked my crampons and ice axe at Biviouac, and after a brief "eek, I think my boots are too flexible for crampons!" I was psyched and ready to roll. I even trained... kinda.. by running to work. My physio and I both agree (now) that that was a silly idea and I needed to have my knees taped to help the kneecaps track properly.  The weather forecast originally didnt play ball and after three days of rain and gale southeasterlies I was pretty pessimistic about the conditions. But Pooh said "We're going anyway." So just like that, we were.  

The Eagle and I were similarly inclined towards taking off on the Friday afternoon and getting to National Park around dinner time. Everyone else wanted to make the most of their working afternoons and leave at 4:30. The Eagle and I chatted our way north. He had had a summer of DIY to sell his house and then an autumn of buying a new house and getting it sorted.  He had had few weekends of training and feared he was underprepared. This was also the Eagles first expedition to the snow. We were both consoled by the experience that the Owl brought to the group.

After a good night sleep at Howards Lodge National Park the Eagle picked me up bright and early for a 7am meet at Mangatepopo carpark to join our teammates. The weather was fine but there was a stiff breeze blowing across the carpark and the crew were sheltered by the retaining wall to put on their layers. The Energizer bunny was conspicuous by his lack of layers but given his internal batteries it probably wasn't unexpected. Tigger had packed his skis. Crazy cat.

Happy to be there

The walk up the Mangatepopo valley was interspersed with various short stops to add or remove layers. It was chilly and the frozen streams were only reinforcing that feeling. Its a rather easy walk up to the Soda Springs but even so we had to lean into the wind to maintain forward motion. Being from Wellington we were rather used to doing that. 

The staircase itself has been improved in recent years and there are a number of very tidy actual stairs as opposed to the rocky versions I remember from 2003. 

Mt Doom in the clear. 

Close to the top of the stair case there were several patches of snow crossing the track. Not quite crampons conditions. But once we topped to the saddle we could see that the south crater was completely covered in snow. Owl told us it was time to put our crampons on from here and gave us a few key tips so that we didn't stab outselves in the back of our legs. I strapped them on and gave it a test walk. I was amazed at the traction! 

Me with Christopher, and stabby things on my feet. And ALL the layers.

The real climb started here. The first few hundred metres were relatively flat but then the gradient gradually turned until you were stepping, straight into snow.  Owl gave us a run down of the theory of how to self-arrest, though practicing was limited as it wasn't quite steep enough to get much sliding going on the lower reaches. The snow conditions were exceptional; very firm and with good depth. You could choose to go in any direction with any kind of stride length and get traction. Its kind of novel to not have to focus on where I put my feet - it really didn't seem to matter. 

For the first while I chose the straight up option. Owl, below me, is using the more conventional switchback technique. 

After about 20 steps I'd be out of breath and gasping. After a while my calves let me know that maybe the switchbacks were the way to go and so I started zigging. At every corner I delighted in calling the tack and when I crossed their paths calling "Starboard!". Im not sure what my team mates thought of this blatant sport-confusion. 

As we were a diverse group, we did have a reasonable gap between the front and the back. But we regrouped when we could. There was plenty of time to enjoy the view, though that view was elusive the higher we went. 

Mt Tongariro, the Crossing in the foreground.

Pooh had been trucking well but suffered from bad cramp in his quads. He raided the Eagles supplies of banana and Powerade to keep going. There was a debate as to whether we should split into two but fortunately it was decided we should stay together. Owl kicked steps slowly into the hillside and Pooh stayed focussed on keeping to his footsteps.

Two of the team were wearing fancy pants watches and could tell us how high we were. Which was either a blessing or a curse depending on how much it had changed since you last asked. Just keep going up til there is no more up!

Finally the advance party of Christopher Robin and the Energizer Bunny reached the edge of the crater. They came back and led us along the rocky ridge towards the summit. 

The top! The bare rocks are mostly centrally heated.

 The top was pretty cool. Even though I couldn't see anything there was something cool about being at the top of something. There were seams of hot rocks which meant some had central heating for their lunch seats. Mine was a cold one though. Gipped.

After about 20 minutes at the top it was time to get going back down and see the sun again. Tigger was first off on his skies. The Energizer Bunny gave him a bearing so he might not end up at the wrong end of Ngaruahoe. He disappeared off into the white.

It was worth the 8 mins to get down he said.

We negotiated the rocky ridge with our crampons (which is kinda sketchy) and headed down on the snow. Christopher and the Energizer Bunny had the bright idea of sliding down. They disappeared into the white. I was doubtful at first, doing reasonable time in the softer afternoon snow doing my zigs. But after watching Owl I thought I might give it a go. So after abit of practice I was off - on my side with the ice axe poised for braking. Which I did regularly just cos.

Skidmarks

Back at the saddle it was sunny again! So it was time for crampons off and back down to civilisation. I had been nice to my knee on Ngaruahoe (by not walking down) but walking down the staircase was going to be challenging. So with walking poles at the ready we dropped slowly into the much warmer and less windy valley. 

By about 5pm (but I can't say I actually know what time it was) we were back at the carpark, stoked that we accomplished Poohs goal and inspired by what we had done. 

*

I don't think I have any great lessons for the trip. I was well prepared generally for the physical exertion. The group was great - perhaps because we were more random than some groups we didn't seem to need to negotiate much. Pooh said, we did. Too easy. We were also a group of professionally (and unprofessionally) opinionated so I was actually surprised that it went that smoothly. Perhaps the working relationships in a new context changes things. 

I'm inspired to do more mountain-y things. :) We were extremely lucky with the snow conditions. I am told it was pretty much perfect. If it were actually icy my flexy boots with their rental crampons, flexybar or no flexibar, would have been challenged. 

Bring on the summer!

Hidden Expectations

I've known for some time that I'm not very good at letting people know my wants and needs. Or even, in some cases, to know what my wants or needs are myself.

When I was growing up I was encouraged "not to make a fuss". As a timid and unconfident child I developed an inability to talk about what I actually wanted. When I tried it seemed like it was always overruled anyway by someone louder or more determined than me so it all seemed pointless.

In an adult, however, this behaviour exhibits as passive aggressive. Which isn't a label I like, but probably fits what was going on in my head. I would hint, and I might joke, or get sarcastic, and if I'm not listened to I sulk and get more and more twisted in my brain. I want to yell and get very angry about not being listened to. I imagine confrontations and escalations, threats and negotiations. What actually happens is I burst into tears in a fit of emotion, and break up, break off, and otherwise leave the building/relationship/environment. Most of the angst existed only inside my head and my behaviour was often a mystery to those around me.

It is sometimes a mystery to me that being "easy-going" seems to be something that is important to me. Attempting to be easygoing made me, at various times, desperately unhappy.

Its also a mystery to me that its taken to at least my mid-thirties to start to have real honest conversations, without the angst. It is thanks to my workplace which, as part of my learning and development included ZIP training (which is not just about safety), coaching, and LSI and MBTI (INTJ if you're interested) training.  I can't thank my work enough as its triggered me on a journey to look more closely at those uncomfortable thoughts inside my brain.

Those uncomfortable thoughts have been close to the surface lately.  I took on my ex-neighbour as a temporary flatmate. He had not managed to find a rental after selling his house next door and needed a room. He's not a very compatible flatmate at the outset - a 52 year old Jamaican Brit working as a builder. He was desperate and he had been a good neighbour to me over the last few years. He said he was having problems renting a place as he worked on a site which didnt give him an opportunity to get to viewings during the week. Ok, sure, I said. Lets give this a whirl on a temporary basis until he found a place. We agreed on a price for rent and I gave him a bank account number and the WiFi password.

A few days later it was evident that we had different understandings of his problems finding a rental. He didnt seem to be working, apparently because of tennis elbow in one arm. So he was home, all morning, all day, and all night, shut inside the second bedroom at my place. He rarely left. Infrequently he would go out in the evenings and not get in til 4am. I was off sick for a couple of days early on and struggled with the black hole that existed in my house.  I didn't feel like I had the peace of having my own house to myself anymore, even occasionally. More importantly I felt lied to and manipulated. I suspected he wasn't going to find a place with the amount of effort he was putting in.

By day three I realised I was going to get bitter and twisted about it. So I took action. When he was out in the kitchen I raised expectations. "I'm concerned that we might have different expectations of temporary". I managed not to get stuck into over-analysis of his house-rental strategies which is easily rebutted and stuck to "I think I'm going to get angry at you - and I dont want to get angry with you. So I'd like to set a deadline".  He listened with a resigned look and then headed back to his room.

That deadline is Wednesday this week, three weeks after we last talked about it. We've had two further serious conversations since last night. One saying "Please get cash out for rent, its been three weeks and I'm getting pretty tetchy about it". He headed straight out at 10:30 at night and got the cash. The second was this evening where he, of his own initiative, sought to clarify what day I was expecting him to leave. I managed to stick to the "This isn't working for me" line and "It was September 30th" and when he professed to be unsure when that was said "Its Wednesday". He walked away, back to his room again.

This sounds simple and straight forward but its so much more complicated inside my head! I don't know what its like trying to rent a place. I dont know what he's done to try to find a place - I only know its pretty hard to find a place when you barely leave the house in the weekends. Is he depressed? Probably. Do I want to help? Of course I do. But I can't save him from the realities of his life. Staying here has not helped him - he's worked maybe two or three days over the three weeks. He rarely leaves the house. I'm perplexed that I'm so opposed to him not working. Should it matter if he is unemployed? It seems I resent that he gets to sit in my home relaxing and reading and internetting while I work all day. In theory I hate to think I discriminate against the unemployed but it seems that I do.

My brain has created all manner of scenarios on dealing with those three conversations - the one about setting a deadline, the one about making sure I got the rent I was owed, the one about confirming clearly my expectations for him to move out. My imaginary conversations were filled with tension and arguments and negotiations. I'm relieved to find these conversations, conducted clearly and without blame, are much less stressful than the ones in my imagination. Best of all, I'm actually being listened to.

What Gets in the Way

Despite my analyst and engineering background I do think of myself as a creative person. But some things gets in the way of me rockin' it out.

• That it wouldn't be right. That I'd do it wrong. 
• That others won't like it or think its stupid or lame. 
• I don't have enough technical knowledge. Maybe I should buy a book or enrol in a course. 
• It might draw attention to myself which generally I dont like. I dont handle compliments at all well.
• I might not finish it to a standard that I like because I get discouraged so easily.  

My brain would like to zoom straight to conscious competence (as opposed to this very uncomfortable conscious incompetence) without breaking a sweat, and to handle it with grace and aplomb. I know its not unusual.  I hear it from so many people in different contexts - "I wish I could bake, It all turns out hard as rocks." Never you mind that I've been baking for over 20 years now with my fair share of disasters. "Wow, you did all the DIY yourself. You're amazing." Well, by myself, with ALOT of help from my friends, not to mention google and youtube. I was absolutely afraid when I knocked all the gib out of my walls, just like I am about this writing gig. I've just became very skilled at using no-more-gaps.

Lets take a moment.

Take a deep breath. And hold, two, three, four.

And exhale, two, three, four.

You're cocooned, warm, safe, and supported.

What colours are you surrounded by?

Pinks and purples? Or greens and blues. Or something else entirely

Breathe in, two, three, four. Hold it, two, three, four.

And exhale, two, three, four.

Thinking of that feeling of safety; that you can relax and simply be.

Is there something there with you?

Breathe in, two, three, four. Hold it, two, three, four.

And exhale, two, three, four.


That there is your imagination at work. Most people keep it boxed up all day, but its always there if you give it a safe place to play.

Feel the fear and do it anyway (R).
Not with the right tools, nor with any preconception that it should be good. Because before I can be good, I first have to start.

Good Enough?

When I was young, somewhere between the Marine Biologist stage and the eventual decision to become an Engineer, I wanted to be a writer. I remember creating my own newspapers for fun and thinking I would be a journalist. Even at primary school my imagination would run wild. At one stage I was obsessed by the books of Anne McCaffrey and would write stories based on that world and those characters. Maybe it was at least partly because we had just moved to a new 'town' school on the edge of Auckland, maybe it was the early stages of puberty, or maybe it was a general geekiness, but I didn't feel like I fitted in. And I'd much rather be inhabiting these fantasy worlds inside my head than the real one outside of it.

I was good at school which was fortunate. But I was devastated one day to have had real feedback on a creative writing piece I did. Unused to criticism at school and overly sensitive to it at home, I overreacted. I thought my teacher didn't like the piece. That it, and by extension I, wasn't good enough. And that was that - the joy of writing and sharing it had gone.

It was, of course, replaced by what felt like a dirty secret. I still wrote, escaping into fictional worlds in my head which spilled over onto paper.  My sister certainly knew about this habit, and potentially my mum though she probably didn't know just how much time I spent doing it.

As I moved through my teenage years my brain seemed to change. English was only a subject I was averagely good at and I don't think it was until my last year at high school that I really figured out that an essay had a defined structure. Maths, I was good at. Physics and Chemistry also. After watching the film The Abyss and identifying overly strongly with the lead female character I decided to go to University to study Engineering.

I remember clearly running into that same teacher from primary school at the supermarket one day. "Are you still writing? You used to write the most fantastic stories!"

It's always interesting in retrospect seeing how those key moments build up to be part of an identity. But sad, too. I wonder what, in a parallel universe, I would have been if I'd been able to listen to feedback and see it disconnected from myself.

I threw out my teenage writing in a clean out during University, horrified at the immaturity of the writing and the overly personal nature of it.

So now I'm writing to take it back from wherever it was. That regardless of it being good enough, it quite simply is my writing. And that's enough.

Manuia Samoa

Manuia Samoa

Prologue

By May 2015 I was generally jaded - work seemed very limited; like I was stuck on a treadmill with no end in sight. Outside of work life was good, but again I had nothing significant to look forward to. It's a necessary side effect of my focus on paying down my debt that I try not to plan Big Expensive Things. Trips and experiences that are costly are often deferred until I need something special. But need it, I did.

I was on a ferry with Nic M after a successful weekend down at a Marlborough mountain bike event (she got me there with the line "ride somewhere new" which just shows what a need for novelty I have!) And I explained how I was feeling stale and how I needed something, a holiday or trip, to look forward to.  Last year I planned a trip to do the Heaphy Track which satisfied this need and was trying to think of something along those lines.She paused no more than 5 seconds and replied "You should go to Samoa".  She explained she had done a self-guided tour with her family with outdoor.co.nz around the island of Savai'i and it was days of cycling in the morning and snorkelling in the afternoon. With the mention of snorkelling I was sold!

Air NZ obligingly put their Pacific Island flights on sale just a few weeks later, though any savings were mitigated by me changing my mind about the date of the return flight. I was mainly booking fale accommodation which was a little informal and I probably had all this sorted by about a month prior to departure. I feel quite limited with everything nailed down like that!

Preparations

I was heading for the tropics so I knew I didn't need to take much clothing.  But Western Samoa is rather undeveloped so I headed off to the doctor for some antibugs to cover anything relatively normal. Tap water on Savai'i wasn't recommended, but buying large quantities of bottled water is against my religion - not for financial reasons but rather environmental reasons. So, after a bit of pondering, and knowing id like to do more lightweight touring in the future, I purchased a Steripen Adventurer to kill any bugs in the water.

I briefly toyed with using lil yellow ( Giant XTC mtb) and Liam D modified the rack to fit around the disc brake and lack of braze-ons. But in the end I just wasn't that comfortable on the bike so I reverted to Old Faithful, my Marin Palisades Trail which I use for a commuter. I acquired Old Faithful in 2005 for $100 from a friend who was moving overseas. It was his first proper mountainbike. I love that it's got that history. I've also toured with it around East Cape, around Mt Pirongia, and around Great Barrier. If it weren't for its incompatibilities with disc brakes I doubt I'd do any virtual tyre kicking!

But virtual tyre kicking I did. By this stage I knew that there would be family nuptials in Europe next year and immediately my brain jumped to the possibility of a bike adventure on the Continent. And of course I've long held a desire for a period of extended travel by bike and I'd very much like this to happen in the next five years. The optimisation engine in my brain was running at a  high tempo but fortunately the horse-before-the-cart frugality logic won out. I'm not going to be able to afford to take a year off if I spend all my money on bicycles. Le sigh.

The mission bicycle

Departure Day

I'm beginning to know myself rather well. I like to have a day or two to get the house in order so, given there were no Sunday flights I booked a Monday departure. As it turned out that was probably a bit too much time! By Sunday I had just to do tidying up really. I now routinely pack on the day of departure as it prevents the inevitable unpacking to see if I had all-the-things. As it was I probably only over-packed on tyre levers. And there was a whole bunch of things I didn't use, but in different circumstances I may have. Anyway. Moving on.

The lovely Sinead picked me up promptly with a packed sandwich and whisked me away to the airport. I was nervous! About the unknown more than anything and unfortunately this is rather usual for me. I don't stride boldly into the future - I try to hide the internal turmoil while doing what I had planned. Planning, at least at the start of a trip, is how I manage that state. The kiosk printed my tags, the oversize counter accepted my bike and whacked a 23kg tag on it without even looking at the actual weight. And then I settled in to being in transit. I had a short hop up the Auckland, a short weight at International, then onto NZ992 for Apia.

Packed!

Air NZ is my favourite airline to travel with. I think the entertainment system makes it - before we'd even taxied I was watching Wild, the movie to one of my books, and then after that I watched Furious 7. I was seated next to someone with the dimensions of a refrigerator so I needed to stay relaxed and not too fidgetty.

Arriving in Samoa it was immediately obvious how warm it was and despite the time (8ish pm) I felt a light sweat break out. The accommodation was meant to pick me up, but didn't, or at least I didn't see it. So I grabbed a cab. The driver was chatty, fishing for information on my trip so he could be of more service. I explained I was cycling around the island of Savai'i, and while I didn't think I would need his taxi services, it was possible for the trip back to Apia city. I grabbed his card for reference.

I stayed that first night at Airport Lodge, a pleasant place to stay just a few kilometres from the airport. I was wired, and hot, so I unpacked the bicycle. My mind jumped around like a kitten with a laser pointer. And speaking of kittens, I missed them intensely. I think I use them to distract me from myself so without that it was just my brain unconstrained.

With the benefit of hindsight I also realize now that I was coming off espresso again and that probably contributed to an slightly angsty state. I didn't sleep well - too hot, too many nerves. I read a fair bit and also used music to try and switch off. I had the fan on at first to try and cool down but it didn't have much effect so I turned it off.  Eventually morning came.

Day 1
Tuesday dawned fine and clear so I pottered around packing and repacking as I fluffed trying to get things in the "right" place. Breakfast was at 8 and I aimed to be down at the ferry by 9. I was still very nervous! But as I went out to the breakfast fale (basically just a roofed structure, with a closed in kitchen at the end) a couple came up to me, eyeing my bicycle on the verandah.

They were Hamish and Joan from Nelson, a couple in probably their 50s who had just finished a tour of Upolu of their own. They were flying out that day. I eagerly chatted, seeking to allay some of my nerves. They had done a number of trips to Samoa but they had also done longer trips in the States. I was impressed with their pragmatic approach to cycle touring. They travel with the ground effect Body Bag and Hamish was a proponent of the steel-is-real bike selection. Their donated their residual food - some muesli bars similar to what I brought over, and some Huntly & Palmers whole meal crackers. The latter turned out to be absolutely genius. It was difficult to get lunch food and to be honest it was generally too hot to want much. The breakfasts and dinners were substantial and the crackers were just right to fill the gap.

A breakfast of scrambled eggs, papaya, and toast was served while we chatted. Another couple about my age joined us, also from Nelson. I can't remember their names unfortunately. The woman had cycle toured it previously with girlfriends and loved it, and on coming back she had brought her partner. He wasn't keen to ride so they were doing their travelling round Savai'i by local bus instead. Another cool alternative.

A local bus at the Ferry Terminal - Mulifanua

It was soon time for me to head down to the ferry. Airport Lodge stored my bike bag and I headed out down the road. It was a very easy 2ish km to the Ferry. Flat, warm wind in my hair and along a picturesque coast. I really should have taken pics but I was too keen to get going.

I had a choice of ferries - a  fast one and a slow one! They alternated so every second one was slow, and I was out of phase with the fast one. It wasn't too bad but there was a distinct lack of seats. I managed to score a plastic chair but as the boat headed out I realised I had chosen the wrong side of the boat - I was on the sunny side!

An hour and a half later, with a brief visit from dolphins we docked at Salelologa. This is the largest town on Savai'i. There was even a traffic light! I should have explored a little, and at least got a SIM card for my misbehaving phone but my restlessness took me out of town and into the succession of small villages along the north coast. It was warm and flat and there was some traffic. The local bus kept overtaking me then stopping 50 metres later to drop people off. As I went past any villages with small children a cacophony would start up "Bye bye! Bye bye!" And the call would be repeated as you rode through.

It was a mere 19km to Lano for my first stop at Joelan's beach fales. I was super excited (those nerves!) to get there and I found the other residents at a table drinking Fijian powdered kava. I was promptly introduced to everyone, including an American couple from Florida, an Argentinian couple, and a young kiwi couple. The kava was a bit average - I've only had it once before thanks to a colleague when I was at Metservice but this was a paler imitation. The American swore that it was good stuff though, so maybe I'm wrong about that. We all retired to our fales for the afternoon. Once the tide got high the water washed right up to mine!

My fale at Joelan's Beach Fales, Lano

Once the sun lost abit of its sting I headed out to go snorkelling. It was hardly arduous as the water was about 5 metres from my fale at high tide and then it was maybe a 20 metre swim out to the reef. I was wary because of my understanding that modesty was important in Samoa - and while my swim wear isn't skimpy its not full coverage either! I watched and satisfied myself that it'd be OK then slipped into the water. The other travellers later told me that things are pretty relaxed in front of the fales but it can be different if you stop at a village beach for a swim. The best part was all the little aquarium fish! Close enough to touch as reef grew up to just under the waters surface at low tide. Electric blue, bright yellow striped, there were all there.

Fale accommodation mostly includes a set dinner and breakfast. This was an excellent opportunity to sit down with the fellow travellers. I spent most of the evening chatting to the Argentinian couple who had been travelling in this trip for around 9 months and still had a few months to go. They were mainly using local transport and and had been through africa like this. I was very envious, at least partly because being part of a couple would make travel in some of those parts much safer. They had been together around 9 years and were getting pressure to start a family. But admirably they hoped to continue travelling even when they became 2+1.

Day 2
I was pretty excited to be getting back on my bike in the morning. Another stunning day. I rocked out the mainly flat 33 km in about an hour 40 which meant I got to Manase and Jane's beach fales in just an hour 40. The fales took my early arrival in their stride and checked me into another beach front fale. This was a much bigger establishment and there were at least 22 fales dotted around the grounds. I was lucky to get one of the beach front ones and one right at the end which was nice and quiet. I spent the afternoon reading and napping as the last of the coffee-withdrawl dopiness worked its way out of my system. Again a late afternoon snorkel to cool down.

Fale at Jane's Beach Fales, Manase

I ran into a pair of German girls who had been at Jane's the previous night. They had had quite an adventure as they'd parked at the lava-fields and locked their car as they had received many warnings about it. But then realised they had locked their keys in the car! The rental car company was based in Apia so not of much immediate help a number of locals tried to use a bit of wire to try and unlock the car. 6 hours later they were back in their car rather sunburnt.

These girls Julia and Maren had taken 4 months off and were working their way around the Pacific. Most recently they had been in Vanuatu and had dived on the President Coolidge. As they travel they update a blog here http://gone-travelling.com/index.php/2015/09/04/exploring-savaii/

Day 3
This day I had scheduled as a sightseeing day but I really didn't feel acclimatized to the heat so was reluctant to spend a long day out-of-doors. My main priority was to find WiFi as I'd planned to be using my mobile phone on roaming but as it was a corporate phone it hadn't been set up for roaming (despite what I had been told before I left). Probably a good thing in retrospect! But I needed to let my friends and family know. So I set off on foot to explore.

Manase

I love travelling by bike as I feel that going slower helps you to see more. But on foot you see even more! Manase had a number of different fale companies, each immaculately kept. Samoan villages are generally very tidy as the village chiefs organised things like rubbish collection (each house had a pedestal to put your rubbish on) decorations or themes, and gardens. As I'd cycled through some villages all had red flowers, or flags, or painted rocks lining the roadside. Often, there was the main living structure, whether a fale or a house, as well as a large open fale which is used for family gatherings and ceremonial occasions. The houses did seem rather impractical given the heat!

A few kilometres down the road I found a store selling lavaspot WiFi codes and plonked myself outside the hotspot at a relatively flash resort. No one blinked an eyelid at this which was good. Having sorted the necessities I contained on as I was headed to Saleaula. This village was in the firing line when My Matanavu erupted in the early 1900s. Lava flowed, not just through the village but through the concrete Latter Day Saints church. It was quite an experience - New Zealand has plenty of volcanoes but ours tend to blow up and out and don't run with such geometric patterns.

Lava inside the church at Saleaula

Pohuehue lava

Having done my essentials I headed back to the fales. unfortunately by now the heat of the afternoon had kicked in and I was feeling weary. I stopped at the post shop to send a couple of post cards and a shop for a very large glass bottle of cold fanta. Soft drink never tasted this good!

Day 4

I was apprehensive about today as it was relatively long (60km), I was unable to start super early as breakfast was served at 8, and it was going to be hilly. I wasn't looking forward to riding in the heat! Julia and Maren saw me off before heading off for a reef dive with Dive Savai'i.

Fairly quickly the road started upwards and I was glad to be riding in the relative cool. The climb tops out at about 400 metres above sea level and I felt relieved that i had done the hard part as I descended towards Vaisalla. I wasn't staying here but I didn't feel inclined to rush through so I stopped at the Vaisalla Hotel for a cold sprite on their beautiful balcony.

Best Sprite ever.

The next part was a grovel - it was very steep climbing out of Vaisalla and them persistently uphill. And hot. Soon enough the turn off arrived and from there it was mainly downhill to Falealupo. They were playing Kilikiti when I arrived which was cool to see but I didn't want to sit out in the heat to watch it unfortunately.

Falealupo Beach Fales

After abit of a rest I went for a snorkel and it was fantastic! Massive sponges just under the waters surface. I saw quite a few pipefish (I think) and angelfish which were pretty cool.

Late afternoon a large family group arrived - the Moriartys of New Zealand and Australia. They were celebrating Audrey's 80th birthday and the family had come together to celebrate. They quickly took over the picnic table and broke out an impressive stash of alcohol, and to my surprise - basil pesto! They had packed well on leaving NZ. They welcomed me and the two french backpackers to join them and there was a range a festivities which included singing the song of the Lost Navigator - the family bar in their Sydney basement. It was very cool to have been invited to be part of it.

Sunset at Falealupo

The Moriarty's singing their song.

Day 5

After a 'family' breakfast I got on the road for Satuiatua. There was a warning in the guidebook that cyclists should travel as a group through this next bit. Lacking a group I was feel pretty nervous! Starting out was lovely, on sand roads and under coconut palms. But at one point a old man sweeping motioned for me to stop. My heart sank. "5 tala, for the road". I dunno - I could have ignored him and ridden on, but that can cause issues as well. Unfortunately I didn't have 5tala so I gave him 10 and generally felt like I'd been had. In the scheme of things 10 tala is like 7  dollars and it probably meant more to him than it did to me.

The remaining ride was rolling upwards to get out of the Falealupo peninsula and I finally started to sweat properly with drops running down my elbows. The Moriarty's passed me after an hour or so and handed me a muesli bar in farewell. I rode Just 35km or thereabouts so I arrived at the fales super early before 11.

Satuiatua Beach Fales

Inside the Satuiatua Fale

Again, the fales didnt bat an eyelid at my early-ness but were surprised I weren't part of a couple. I ended up with a large family fale, in the shade, and just a few metres to the waters edge.

Again the snorkelling was fantastic with beautiful sponges in very shallow water. The main problem was having enough water! It would be impossible to snorkel at low tide here.

In the neighbouring house ( yes, there was guest accommodation which was in a house) I met Niels and Margarite who are a dutch couple living in Wellington. They were staying 2 weeks with their 2 year old and their 2 month old (!). I had great conversations with them about cloud computing, diving with whales in Tonga. Then I met another couple, this time from the Hawkes Bay. The wife formerly had worked for ANZ bank but they had moved to Hawkes Bay to raise their family so she was now working for a company that develops recycling programs for industries. We talked about the psychology of recycling and also about how the mattress industry was easy to work with, and also about how prior to having kids they had bought a boat and sailed to Vanuatu.

Day 6
Sunday today which in Samoa means church in the morning and eating in the afternoon. For me that meant that none of the shops were going to be open and since this was a longer day (around 60km) I wouldn't be able to stop for a cold sprite, and also that one of the attractions Afu-a-u waterfalls would be closed. :( Bad timing on my part.

Being a Sunday it was very quiet on the road which was great. Everyone was dressed up and there was a lot of singing as I cruised past the churches. The landscape was also great at it changed into an ocean coast. The smell of the sea and the sound of breaking waves was fantastic.

Angry sea

Leaning tower of coconuts

The 60km went past quickly as I rode through coconut plantations, then a series of villages as I reached Salelologo and Lusia's lagoon fales. This place was large and spred out. They didn't want to let me in a fale at 1130 so I sat in the restaurant with a sprite and a WiFi code. I just wanted to be able to cool down properly really.

Lagoon fale

Not building standards approved.

I went for a quick swim in the lagoon to cool down once I was allowed in, but found it surprisingly difficult to swim in a dive mask! I should have either brought my snorkel with me or swimming goggles.

Lusia generally I found big and impersonal, the staff were overly solicitous and some of their long-standing guests they had obviously got to know. But it wasn't the sit-around-the-dinner-table environment that I'd experienced at my other accommodation.

Day 7
After a shocking nights sleep I hit breakfast at 7 and then rolled down to the ferry for the 8am ferry. I had angsted abit over this as there was a 6am ferry which would have been faster and then have got me on the road relatively early for the ride to Apia. But the 8am would do.

It was a lot choppier than my first crossing! After a while I worried that my bike would topple over and damage someone's car so I headed down to the vehicle deck to check. Fortunately someone had moved it to a better position and I added a rope to make sure it wouldn't move. Having got to the deck though I decided to stay there and felt more and more seasick. I didn't vomit but for a while there was some potential. I was relieved to move into smoother waters before we docked at Mulifanua.

As I disembarked I psyched myself up for the ride to Apia. But as I walked into the carpark with my bike the taxi driver who picked me up at the airport was there waiting and calling my name. Mentally I weighed up a busy and unpleasant and hot ride to Apia, with an easy taxi ride. That really didn't take very long and I disassembled my bike and chucked it in the boot.

Isaac, the taxi driver, lived near Mulifanua and so he remembered which day I was coming across, though not what time. We alternately sped, overtook, and crept our way to Apia.

I was booked at the Outrigger Hotel for three nights. Again, I was early but they encouraged me to leave my bags at reception and relax by the pool (!). I did this for a while before going for a walk into downtown Apia. I found a coffee shop with a grinder and espresso machine and everything! But more importantly it had air-conditioning which was lovely. The coffee tasted like filter coffee and I'm completely uncertain as to how they botched it so badly. I noted also how expensive everything was! Probably the norm for European style baking - a chocolate chip cookie was $5 or 8 tala. I went for a walk around the waterfront and picked up a couple of lavalava near the flea market.

Coconut juice, au naturel

Apia waterfront

There was no set dinner at the Outrigger so I went to a local Italian restaurant for a very nice carbonara.

Later on, back at the Outrigger, I got to talking with someone who works at a Lower Hutt library and we agreed to go together to the Robert Louis Stevenson museum before she flew out. She also gifted me a fan which she couldn't take back to NZ which was awesome and worth having in the climate.

Day 8
It was a lovely communal breakfast and then we grabbed a taxi from the local taxi rank and headed up the hill to an admittedly beautiful colonial house. Robert Louis Stevenson suffered from tuberculosis and moved to Samoa for the final 4 years of his life in the late 1800s. In that time he became something of a dignitary and supported Samoa in their quest for independence.  We took a tour of his house which had been damaged extensively in a tropical cyclone and has been restored by private benefactors.

Mandatory colonial house picture

Straight after this I jumped on my bike to get down to town for a cultural show near the information centre. Over the course of three hours me and a range of other tourists from all over watched them build an umu, prepare palusami (yum!), sing and dance, make tapa cloth, talk about wood carving, and see someone getting the tatau (ouch!).

After that I was abit pooped so I headed to Paulo Deep Marine Reserve just out of Apia for aa snorkel. This was fabulous. There was a decent swim out, but then the bottom drops away and so you get diversity of depth which was refreshing after snorkelling in mainly chest deep water. It was great to be able to dive down thou one ear was somewhat reluctant (im out of practice). I just wished I had brought a picnic with me!

Paulo Deep Marine Reserve/Picnic Spot

On my return to the Outrigger I chatted to Tanya of Norway, near Bergen.  We agreed to share costs on a rental car the next day. The hotel hired cars for the ultimate in convenience.

Day9

My last full day in Samoa. :(

I grabbed the car and first did a solo drive out to Airport Lodge to pick up my bike bag. This was a mistake - its only 35km to there but a combination of traffic volume, pedestrian crossings and the general randomness of traffic in Samoa means it took the better part of an hour, each way. So it was close to 1030 by the time I got back to pick up Tanya.

First up we went to the Papase'ea sliding rocks. Unfortunately there was not enough water to do any sliding but the pools were cool and refreshing which I particularly needed after all the driving.

Shock horror, somehow I ended up in the photo. At the sliding rocks.

Next up we headed up and over the pass towards the South Coast of Upolu. While it was 30 degrees in Apia we watched as the temperature gauge fell and it started to rain. By the top, at about 800m, it was just 21 degrees and raining fairly steadily. We stopped briefly at the Papapapaiti waterfall, barely visible through the cloud before heading down to the South Coast.

The next place we stopped was  the Pupu-pue National Park which had a large recreational area and a swimming hole. It would be a pleasant place to spend the afternoon. We pushed on Sopoaga falls which you viewed from beautiful garden setting.

Pretty!

By now it was nearly 2pm and I was feeling like I was running late. The driving is all relatively slow and I knew it would be at least a few hours to complete our loop even with no stops.

The highlight of our journey was the Sua ocean trench. This was effectively a large open blowhole and the surge pushed and pull currents within the basin. I found the currents quite disconcerting but fortunately there was a pipe under the water to act as a hand hold.

Sua Ocean Trench - down-climbing the ladder is the scariest bit!

We continued east, lunching just west of Lalomanu under cloudy and windy skies. This part of the coast was quite different as we had cliffs on one side of us and big ocean swells crashing on the reef on the other side.

Lunch spot

We just missed out on the Piula Cave Pool, arriving at 4.45 when they closed at 5. Tanya was particularly disappointed. We got back to the hotel at 5.30 and I was frazzled from spending 9hours on the road. It's not my ideal way to spend a day! A quick spag bol takeaway from the local pizza joint and I crashed out.

Day 10

I had a lot of spare time to make up the rushing around the previous day! I'd packed the bike in its bike bag and then was trying to mitigate the weight by carrying some of it, but not so much that it'd annoy me. The bike bag felt heavy! I don't know how as the only things I was taking back was two lavalava. I gifted my food and the fan to Tanya as she was staying another couple of days and then settled in to the waiting that comes with travelling by plane. By 9pm that night I was home!

Reflections

I loved travelling around Savai'i. I liked the days of a set breakfast, a known distance to the next stop, afternoons of reading and snorkelling, not having to worry about food because it is all provided, and most of all, all the cool people I met on my way round. The hospitality and friendliness to the Samoans I met was also excellent.

It's not a good place if you like things to be just like they would be at home! The food can be rustic, the taxis unroadworthy, and the drivers risktakers. It was a perfect trip for someone with a yearning for somewhere else. As such it was slightly disappointing that most of the travellers I met were New Zealanders! I half expected to meet an old high school teacher round every corner.

I'd highly recommend Samoa as a destination if you like things abit quieter and chilled out. It was also a great place to warm up for an overseas bicycle trip. Or just generally warm up . :)

Next up for me - hopefully I'll plan a local trip over the Christmas holidays. But more excitingly I should be in Europe September 2016  - ou je vais?

Hello World

Hello World

Its a traditional opening to a new world. :) 

And with that - a definition. 

katabatic   (kāt'ə-bāt'ĭk)     Relating to wind currents that blow down a gradient, especially down the slopes of a mountain or glacier. When air comes in contact with the cool surface of a glacier or the upper regions of a mountain or slope, the air cools, becomes dense, and blows downward. Katabatic winds are usually cool and are especially common at night in polar regions.

More on that later.