Journeys End

The time I thought would never come is here, and I am coming home.

When I flick back through my blog entries, I cannot believe I have been to so many places and seen so many things...It is almost like it has happened to someone else. When I was planning this adventure, I never really thought about the end and what it would be like to come home, but I can assure you all that I am 100% ready to return to England and am looking forward to starting the next stage of my life.

I have loved travelling: seeing all the sights and meeting so many new friends was a wonderful experience, but I doubt I would go away for so long again. I think you can get jaded if you see so much in such a short time and therefore my maximum trip for the future would probably be one month, to ensure that I fully appreciate everything I am seeing. I prefer to have the energy to see everything through fresh eyes!

When I think back to this time last year, I remember sitting at home talking to Nan about how I had just had enough of stammering and I didn't know what to do about it. I could barely say anything and was even more constrained by some letters or sounds being completely unavailable to me (like the letter J, which was immensely inconvenient as I worked with Judy, Jenna, John, Julia and Julian... you couldn't make this stuff up!). I felt like I was completely abnormal and hated myself for stammering so badly and not being able to do something so simple that even a child could do. I felt like stammering affected the way people responded to and treated me. Stammering is humiliating and debilitating and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

Now, fast forward one year and I have travelled alone to over 20 countries, introduced myself to hundreds of new people, participated in numerous public speeches at Toastmasters in 5 different countries (including inadvertently leading a Table Topics session), taught children in Laos to pronounce English words as they are meant to be said, and been filmed in an interview with Indonesian students whilst in Malaysia. Not bad for someone who studiously avoided saying anything to anyone new, and who hated meetings at work because I couldn't introduce myself.

Having said this, the challenge is far from over and I still have a long way to go. When you see me, please do not expect me to be a fluent speaker because I'm not, and I never will be. But I am doing my best to be eloquent and I would be grateful if you could continue to support me, as you all kindly did before I left to go travelling. I might be 'back in my comfort zone' at home but there will still be challenges and to be honest, there needs to be challenges because I want to keep moving forward in my recovery.

My goals for 2011 are as follows:

* Pass the McGuire coaching exam so I can help other people like me- by November 2011
* Start attending London support group (because I've never actually been...!)- by January 2011
* Make Jack and Katie proud by reading at their wedding- September 2011
* Start learning German again- by March 2011
* Run a half marathon- by October 2011 (I have to train first!)

I am setting my goals publicly to ensure my behaviour follows my intentions. When you see me, please ask me how I am getting on with them.

This was the story of Reedy's Roams 2010. Thank you for sharing my adventure with me; it has been an honour writing this for your reading pleasure!

Bye for now.



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Wipeout

The past few days have flown by; time was spent watching people set themselves on fire and then bungy jumping off a high platform (this is supposedly the only place in the world you can do this). We also went to surf mecca 'Ulu Watu' to watch the pro surfers tackle 8 ft waves. To get to the break, you have to walk through a cave that is only accessible at low tide and then swim out to catch the current- its quite tricky so only the really advanced guys surf here. I was inspired to get as good as them, but also very intimidated by the force of the sea.



My surfing lessons are not going as well as I had hoped. I have had two lessons so far, neither of which have gone particularly brilliantly. The school I am learning with promised my money back if I failed to stand up after one lesson, which I did, but there hasn't been any standing up since then. I know that a good workman never blames his tools, but the waves are just too big (in my expert opinion!) for novice surfers, and the boards look a bit rickety so I'm not confident they can take my weight.

Sometimes I sit and watch the experienced surfers to learn how they manage to hop up on their boards so quickly, so that I can replicate this in my lesson, but I strongly believe that fear is holding me back. I am so frightened of the swirling maelstrom of water surrounding me and pulling me under, resulting in drowning. I have tried so hard to be safety conscious throughout this trip; it would be a shame to die so close to the end. With my mind full of drowning thoughts, I lose confidence and concentration and then I fall in (which perpetuates the fear of drowning even more!), before I've even done so much as managed to kneel...

I've been hit in the stomach twice (quite hard, might I add), have numerous ugly purple bruises on my arms and legs from board assaults and have swallowed what seems like half of Kuta beach, but I am still trying! In McGuire world, we have 8 laws we utilise to speak eloquently and my favourite is number 5: Put in whatever effort is necessary. This is me, right now. By hook or by crook, I WILL be a good surfer by hometime. I'm prepared to come home with two black eyes, if that is what it takes!



I still have 5 days until I come home and to me, enough is enough now. I feel like I am sat in the waiting room, poised for the door to open and for the rest of my life to start! I shouldn't complain because, lets face it, the most taxing thing about my day is making sure a.) I don't drown and b.) I put suncream everywhere so I don't burn- neither of which is very stressful. Well, the not drowning part is quite stressful, but suncream application isn't. I am anxious to put my new plans into action and see where 2011 will take me, but I know I have to wait a teeny bit longer...

The Final Countdown

After the Gilli Islands last week, Bobo and I went to Lombok, Bali's quiet neighbour, to see 'real Indonesia'. Terraced rice paddies lined the roads, and monkeys frequently stalked our van whilst screeching. We drove to the southern tip of Lombok and stayed in Kuta, which is nothing like its Bali namesake. There is literally nothing there! It is tiny fishing village with rugged coastline, so after 3 days we got a bit bored and came back to Kuta on Bali. I like pretty scenery as much as the next girl but a beach is a beach, and Kuta Bali has lots of mullet sporting Australians to look at, which gives it the edge.



I realised today that I will be making my way home in only 10 days....10 DAYS!!! I can hardly believe it as there is still much to do, namely learn to surf! I have investigated my options and think the best way to get good fast is to do an intensive 5 day course, starting Sunday. I hope that I am good at surfing; my hand to eye co-ordination is pretty poor (which disappointed netball teachers at school) so lets see how my feet to eye co-ordination fares. I'll obviously post embarrassing photos of me wiping out on my blog next week for your enjoyment.

Such a small world

Bobo and I have been hanging out on the Gilli Islands; tiny squares of paradise in the Bali Sea. There are no motorcycles on the island, which makes for an altogether quieter experience of Indonesia. We have snorkelled, swam in the sea repeatedly and then yesterday took a guided snorkel excursion to visit Gilli Meno and Gilli Air. We saw 5 sea turtles, which was incredible. They just bobbed along, minding their own business, unaware of the fascination they were causing amongst the humans! My favourite fish were the tye-dye fish, the burglar fish (white and black stripe) and the arrow fish.

We stopped for lunch on Gilli Air, the smallest of the islands and also the most exclusive (hence why us peasants were not staying there!) We saw another snorkelling group in the restaurant but I was merrily chatting away to people on my group (practicing my assertive first sound this week) so I didn't take much notice. Imagine my surprise when a friendly face from my past tapped me on the shoulder and enveloped me in a great big bear hug! It was my friend Jonny, who I lived with at the zoo and have not seen for ages! It was bizarre to be so far away from home and to see such a familiar face! It was lovely to hear his news and he said that I seemed really different now, and much happier than when we lived together.



This week, a challenging speaking situation occurred. My brother is actually the friendliest person I have ever met in my life and literally chats to everyone. He got talking to a Canadian man in a bar on the island, and when I went over to join them, the Canadian asked me my name. Blindsided slightly, I had a teeny block on my name, so I stopped, tried again and was successful. Despite this, the man laughed and started making fun of me.... Now, some of you who have been reading my blog from the start may recall the episode in Peru, where the girls on the Inca Trail were making fun of me and I didn't do anything about it. I just sat in my tent and cried (only a little bit, but back then i was still really new at this speaking eloquently lark and I felt that their jokes and impressions were mean and uncalled for). Anyway, back to the story- the point was that I did nothing. I let them make me feel small and awful and I did nothing.

I learnt a lot from that episode: namely that I never wanted to feel that way again. So, I sat and ordered food, gave myself time to gather my thoughts and then practicised with my brother what I was going to say to this man, as I felt that I needed to do a strong cancellation of the experience, as well as educate him to stop him from doing it to someone else.

I went over to him, gave a concise disclosure about my stammer and then explained about why a cancellation is important (so that when I am next asked my name, I will remember the most recent experience as a strong and positive situation during which I was in control). I said my name again to him, using a strong, deep tone from the chest. I'll give him his due, he apologised sincerely and then tried to dig his way out of the hole by saying that he thought, "I was really hot"...! Nice try buddy, but it won't wash with me! The main thing is that if he meets someone with a stammer again, he won't behave like such a complete tool. Job done.

Bobo, the celebrity

Bobo arrived in Bali on Saturday night along with chocolate, biscuits, magazines and cards from my two best friends- it was an exciting time! The party rings were snaffled within about 2 hours but I am showing restraint with the other foodstuffs to last me my final 20 days (eek!).

We have had a busy time so far seeing Mount Batur (Bali's active volcano), traipsed around Ubud with a load of 30-something women gripping 'Eat, Love, Pray' in their sweaty palms and learned how ducks assist in the rice growing process.



I've now been in Asia for about 4 months and as I think I have mentioned in the past, am requested to have my photo taken with locals at least once per day. For Bobo, this is a new experience and he didn't understand it at first. He was perhaps even slightly intimidated. But now, after two days, he loves it! Walking about a temple earlier today, shy schoolchildren looked as though they wanted a photo with us but were too afraid to ask. My outgoing brother simply shouted (despite us being in a temple) to them that we are happy to be photographed. Cue a swarm of about 50 schoolchildren all crowding us and trying to take our photo, shoving friends out of the way so they can be the only one in the photo, 5 camera phones pointed at us at once etc... It turned into a slight brawl and I think the temple staff were happy when we left!

Transport? Transport?

I am happy to report that Bali is sunny, cheap and serves very western food. Since my short-lived love affair with rice is firmly over, the third aspect of Bali's brilliance is very welcome indeed. The hotel is lovely and I have investigated getting to the Gilli Islands with Bobo on Tuesday so we do not waste any time. We are also going to do a one day tour on Monday around the island which includes seeing Ubud, the setting of 'That Damn Book' as locals refer to 'Eat, Pray, Love'.

There are numerous motorcycles running rampant along the roads (driven in equal measure by locals and Western surfers transporting their boards), and pavements are non existent. It's like being in Vietnam again, only worse as the drivers shout 'Transport! Transport!' as they pass you, (even when I am running along Kuta beach at night, when it is blatantly obvious my feet are my transport). I will feel safer here when Bobo arrives as I don't think they hassle women with men so much. It saddens me to say this because I am a firm believer in the world being open to all, but I must concede that there are places equality has not quite reached yet. Maybe I'll buy a ring to wear on my wedding finger for the final few weeks..

To The Bat Cave!

More jungle antics abound with a visit to Mulu National Park to see the world famous Deer Cave, and the nightly migration of millions of bats who leave their cosy home to forage for food.

We arrived at the Royal Mulu Resort ready to explore the caves and see lots of wildlife, and after a week of roughing it in the jungle, we were ready for some 5 star luxury. We visited Clearwater Cave, Langs Cave, Wind Cave and then finally at dusk, arrived at Deer Cave and settled ourselves down to watch the phenomena.



We waited.

And we waited.

And then we waited some more. (Just for good measure).

Nothing.

The bats were apparently not hungry, but we were, so we left to go to dinner and agreed that we would come again the second night to see the bats, who would be starving by then.

Dinner was a spread. It was like being at Aunty's house on Christmas Eve- so many dishes to choose from and all looked amazing. There were different stations where you could have food cooked to order, as well as a buffet full of food I have missed dearly whilst on my travels. To entertain us, the resort engaged traditional entertainers, including one warrier who wore only a loin cloth, a spear and feathers, and thought it was funny to block my way to the food. I did tell him I would stab his spear somewhere uncomfortable if he didn't get out of my way to the ice cream station, but he didn't understand English, so this comment was wasted.

Breakfast in the morning was another spread, this time including a waffle station! I was very excited about this. Maybe more so the waffles than the bats, perhaps?! But anyway, we spent the day lounging around the pool and then traipsed off, cameras all fully charged, to try see the bats again.

We waited.

And we waited.

And then we waited some more. (Because thats what we like to do).

Nothing.



No bats, nada, zip. I was disappointed not to see them and will try to come back again in future but its a long way to come for something that may or may not happen, even if the food at the resort is amazing. (Actually maybe that is why the food is so good- it cheers disappointed tourists up). I feel so lucky with everything else I have seen here on this beautiful island and the best thing about Borneo: NO LEECHES! None! So no bats, but no leeches either. Hurrah!

I am extremely excited at the moment for the arrival of Roaming Reedy the Younger, aka BOBO! My brother is coming to join me in T-minus 4 days for 10 days of fun and frolicks on the Gilli Islands, off the coast of Bali. We are also meeting with two lovely Scottish lasses I travelled through China with so it will be nice to be surrounded by friends and family again and be back in a somewhat comfort zone, after months of nonstop speaking challenges. I think the next two weeks will be an interesting insight to see how my speech is when I am with people I feel comfortable around... I'll let you all know what happens.

Blingtastic Brunei!

There was a sequence of unexpected events this week that led me into the land of gold and ostentatious bling...Brunei! Despite our leader expressly forbidding us to go, I *might* have had one of my great ideas for a fun adventure(!), and organised a car and driver for 5 others and myself to explore somewhere that I'd never really known much about or would plan to visit especially. (Also, I thought Brunei was near Dubai, so I learned something new! Everyone is a winner).

We had an excellent time and toured the Royal Palace, 2 Mosques, a 7 star hotel which was fancy but really empty, and the worlds largest water villages. Immediately after crossing the border, we saw that houses were sturdier and the roads had less potholes- there is a lot of money rolling about. Quick fact: Malaysians are not allowed to use petrol stations in Brunei because the cheap petrol is only for the locals.



After our illicit soujourn, we returned to Malaysia to stay with the Iban tribe in traditional longhouses, and hike the Headhunters Trail through primary jungle. As usual, my main concern was leeches. I wore tights under trousers, with 4 pairs of socks both under and over the tights to ensure that none of the little creatures could get anywhere near my skin. Great plan, except I was ridiculously hot, which was a slight oversight on my part, I must admit. The guide said he had never met anyone so obsessed with not getting leeches on them as I made him stop every 300 metres and check me, but I made it up to him by helping him to cook a dinner of jungle-style KFC for the group which I think he appreciated.

The week was ok speech-wise. The issue is that whenever I go for a long time without speaking on a regular basis (say, for the 3 weeks I was travelling completely alone), its harder when I do start speaking again because my diaphragm needs to warm back up and I need to get used to speaking again.

My speech is being tested under pressure it wouldn't normally face (i.e. once my confidence has built up and I am able to push comfort zones and boundaries). These challenges mean I know when to put more effort in and that I need to drop back to 3 words per breath, and to really concentrate on visualising the words coming out correctly.

I like doing things properly and to the best of my ability (as you are all well aware), and it annoys me when I can't get it right, but I know why it is happening and what to do to fix it, which is the main thing.

Borneo Part 2- Men of the Forest

Kinabalu over, it was time to head to the jungle where I stayed in a lodge for 2 days and spent time on the river looking for wildlife. My eagle eyes were rewarded with a rare sighting of a wild orangutan, crocodiles and various monkeys!

The jungle lodge had several tame visitors- George the Monitor lizard, Maggie the bearded pig and Thomas the civet cat. Bizarre, but a great experience all the same! I found out that the base note for Chanel Number 5 perfume comes from a civet cat's anal glands, which was some interesting party trivia.



I was also lucky enough to visit Sepilok, the orangutan rehabilitation centre to see the men of the forest in their natural habitat. Two orangutans were mothers with babies (which were adorable), and the dominant male had a ridiculously wide face, which is what the lady orangutans find very handsome indeed!

Leechwatch: Doing fine so far with no leeches, but we are hiking to a remote hill tribe next week so I am ready to see some then. Our guide advised 'rolling them like a bogey' and flicking them away, so I shall see how that works.

Borneo Part 1- Climbing the Beast

Tuesday and Wednesday of this week saw me hiking Mount Kinabalu, AKA the Beast. 8.30am on Tuesday morning was the start of what was to be quite an adventure, and little did I know what was to happen.

The group had the option to hike the easy trail, or the hard trail. For reasons unknown to me, we chose the harder trail, which entailed 8 hours of solid uphill hiking, sometimes scrambling on our hands and knees to reach a checkpoint.

About 3 hours into the hike, the heavens opened (which has become a regular feature in Borneo- it rains here. A lot). The rain was a nonstop, heavy downpour, and we were soaked to the skin, with waterlogged shoes, within a matter of minutes. The trail had turned into a river/waterfall and there was the classic approach avoidance conflict of knowing the water had leeches lurking in it, waiting to attach and suck your blood, but also knowing that you have to keep walking. What do you do?! It's a rock or a hard place.

After 8 long hours, we reached Laban Rata, the checkpoint for the summit and the place of rest before the final push. Luckily, our group was in a nearby dormitory so we did not have to hike further up the mountain to get to our beds. After a cup of hot Milo it was bedtime at 6.30pm as we had to be awake for the 2am summit climb. This was where the problems really started.

No- one really slept that night as I think we were all over tired from the first days' hike, and nervous about what the next morning would bring. 2am came around and we strapped on our wet hiking boots ready to start the summit climb. I had no dry clothes due to no radiators in the dorms so was wearing my pajama top with robots on (thanks Cuz!) and leggings, with red knee high socks over the top, which wasn't particularly warm or stylish.

Outside was pitch black- all we could see was the few feet in front of us lit by head torches. The trail soon became very steep, and after about 1km, became completely vertical with a series of ropes that were used to pull ourselves up the mountain. We had no idea if the trail was on a sheer cliff face or not, which added to the fear levels.

In Bolivia and Peru, I suffered quite badly from altitude sickness but didn't think it would pose a problem in Borneo because Kinabalu is 4,000 metres, which is nowhere near as high as some of the mountains I hiked in South America. It did not occur to me that we ascended 1,000 metres in 2 hours for the final push, and as a result, at about 25 feet from the top of the mountain, I became quite unwell.



The girls I was hiking with kept encouraging me to go on, but by this stage, I couldn't see straight (it was like being drunk, when the world spins and images have trouble keeping up with your eyes), nor could I really speak coherently. A passing guide saw me fall over and took it upon himself to carry me up the final section, which was kind of him but didn't really help the situation as with altitude sickness, the only cure is going down, not up.

At the summit, I perched on a rock and couldn't even lift my head to admire the view. I felt utterly awful and must have looked like I'd had a few too many in the restaurant the night before the climb. Luckily, one of our guides took one look at me and dragged me back down the mountain (there was a lot of dragging going on that day). He had one hand around my waist to support me as I was unable to walk straight, and one hand on the rope to ensure that we did not slip off the side of the mountain, which was a distinct possibility. I lost count of the number of times I fell over simply because the guide was running across all these huge rocks and at one point, my arm was ripped from the socket because I was sliding away from him and he tried to pull me back.

It was only when we were halfway back down to Laban Rata that I could focus my eyes again and realised just how sheer the edges of the mountain were. In England, the climb would never happen without proper safety equipment and clothing- I was wearing a pajama top with robots on, for goodness sake!

Luckily, back at Laban Rata I had some breakfast, a cup of tea and was able to get down the mountain, but it was an experience I am not keen to revisit in a hurry.

Hannah + high altitude = recipe for disaster!