The plan

In August 2012 I’ll be leaving a well-rewarded job which I’ve happily occupied for the last 18 years, packing my whole life into 4 waterproof panniers and flying to the Indian Himalayas to begin a 4 or 5 year cycling journey around the world. After cycling across the high mountain ranges I’ll descend down to the Indian Ocean and then eastwards on a winding route through the mainland and islands of South East Asia. From there I’ll eventually make my way to Alaska and embark on a 2 year journey around the entire coastlines of North, Central and South America. My plans get a bit hazy after that but I’ll make my way back to Europe either westwards or eastwards, depending on how much money I have left.

I intend to go slow, stay off the highways as much as possible and explore the routes not on the tourist circuits. I want to spend time in places volunteering with interesting projects or just wandering around towns that I will probably never return to, sampling the local cuisine and trying to pick up some of the language. Everything I need to exist, I’ll carry with me: tent, stove, water, food, transport – what else is there?

In the meantime there’s a lot to do. Visas and vaccines, buying tools and selling belongings, route planning and getting my life into smaller order. Right now I have a plane ticket to Delhi, a great bike and a new passport. As the time to leave approaches I’m feeling more nervous and scared to death but also more excited.

When I decided I was going to travel around the world, the most enticing prospect was one of continually arriving at the edges of the oceans. I’ve always loved the sea. I love being in it, on it or beside it. The junction between land and sea is always my favourite destination. It makes me feel like an excited kid again on a trip to the seaside. I still enjoy the briny smell in the air just before hearing the swash of the breakers that comes just before the sight of the bay.

If I had the choice of anywhere in the world to live, it would be a little cobble-stoned Cornish fishing village with chaotic streets, wooden trawlers in the harbour and the sound of seagulls at first light. The sea can be the end of a journey or the start of a journey, it can be the best day of your life or the last - but it’s a great place to arrive. I’m lucky to live on an island where it’s always nearby. The cities are a place to work, the coasts are the place to breathe. I love the sea.

Please consider supporting the work of the Marine Conservation Society who are trying to raise awareness, before it’s too late, of the potential human catastrophe hidden away out of sight in the worlds oceans.

No ceiling

You may be looking at this blog because, in your heart, you’re an explorer, an adventurer. You’ve either acted upon, or will one day want to act upon, a desire to run further afield from current pastures. You may be planning a gap year, a career break or an unorthodox retirement after a lifetime at the mill or you might just have had a crazy idea that you’re determined to make real. Whatever the reason behind your restlessness, you may have already begun to feel the pull of the road, the excitement of new borders, the fresh dawns over ever changing horizons. You might be studying maps and thinking about learning a foreign language.

If you’re serious, then deep down you’ll have a nervous knot but it keeps your senses alert to the nature of the challenge and the closer you get to your goal the bigger the knot gets. Perhaps you’re being reckless and irresponsible, perhaps friends and family think your crazy plans are a bluff, perhaps you don’t have enough money saved. But perhaps you’ll do it anyway. You’ve started to look forward to imagined risks and set-backs and have accepted them as all part of the project. You know for certain that you’re going to do this – it’s only a matter of time. Mark Twain famously exhorted us to ‘explore, dream, discover’ and you’ll take that advice.

This is an account of my own long-time dream which I’m finally beginning to put into practice. When I was planning and dreaming, I trawled through blogs and websites looking for someone just like me. I read the experiences of Alistair Humphreys and Mark Beaumont and didn’t find any impossibilities. The only qualification appeared to be bloody-mindedness. Dangers, surprises and impracticalities seemed exciting, not worrying. So whether it be for research, for reminiscence or for day-dreaming I hope my own future reports can assist you and set you wandering. Forget sensible.

Live boldly

Do you ever find yourself daydreaming about a change of direction in your life but going to bed realising it probably won't happen? Ahh . . . wouldn't it be great, you think, one day I'll do it. It might simply be climbing a large mountain or learning to scuba dive. Perhaps you want to spend 6 months volunteering in Africa; or sign up at Open University and get that Masters degree; or buy a second-hand yacht and sail around the world.

But, of course, there are so many practical reasons against change and so many sensible people telling you to get real and stop dreaming. The immediacy of life gets in the way and demands your attention. But thoughts of escape remain carefully tucked away in your memory waiting for the opportune moment to burst forth with renewed conviction. As the years pass, you'll either regret your inaction, or laugh out loud at such naïve nonsense. As for me? I just thought "what the hell, why not, what's the worst that can happen?"

Some 'back of an envelope' budget calculations, divorce and a 45th birthday slotted some pieces into place. My own naïve dream was of exploring, wishing to have been born 200 years earlier into the romantic age of European exploration. Not really practical, but nonetheless much of the world is still out there just as it was. Mountains & lakes, rivers & valleys, islands & oceans still hold an unshakeable attraction. I'll go take a look . . . .  and I'll go on a bicycle!

Get one here: www.thorncycles.co.uk