I spent everything I’d ever made to live 3 months at Teahupoo. Besides a lot of alone time, this is what I got up to. Loud volume essential. HD Preferred. Enjoy!
I don’t know what’s worse, the sound of the screeching breaks when we swerve to avoid yet another pothole or the not too dissimilar sound of the Punjabi women singing nasally through distorted speakers at high volume. On bus journeys like this discomfort seems to reach you through each and every one of your senses. The bus bangs about on bad roads as the bus driver swerves to miss potholes and oncoming traffic. We’re going fast. I really should be used to this by now. I turn to the Nepali chap on my right and comment on the bad driving. He laughs and I laugh with him – partly because it’s amusing to me that he finds this kind of thing acceptable but mostly I laugh for the sake of keeping up appearances. I’d rather him not know just how terrified I really am. Every time the vehicle makes an unexpected turn I brace myself out of fear that we’ll crash into the abyss below. It’s difficult to catch any sleep on these long bus journeys. Being perpetually scared somehow merges with the feeling of discomfort to become one with the general shittiness of the situation. It’s a kind of psychological discomfort that accompanies and exacerbates the physical, together forming an entirely new type of misery. Beware: This is no Kontiki tour through Europe. Only those with a taste for raw adventure should venture here. I look over at the bus driver again; he’s talking on his phone. God save us all. Continue reading Suffering in the name of Nepalese adventure
Moving to NZ is definitely the biggest thing I have ever took on, to leave your friends, family, and everything you ever come to know behind - in search of something more, in search of what else is out there.