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I realise with some trepidation that it’s now approaching one year since we peddled ‘Telia the Tandem’, hot, sweaty and somewhat relieved to Australia’s East coast and in so doing ended the two year cycling phase of our honeymoon journey. It has now also been six months since we finally returned ‘home’ to the UK, to the place where it all started, and began embracing the aftermath of our journey.

‘Aftermath’ sounds as if we’re in the wake of some kind of huge storm – one that’s picked up all that had once been settled and secure, shifted it around and left behind an entirely different landscape. In so many ways this is exactly how life has felt these past few months. Despite returning to our place of origin, familiar in so many ways, it’s nevertheless apparent that this is in fact another new landscape for us to navigate our way through, only this time without the simplicity and identity of two wheels below us and the added unfamiliarity of being a more individual undertaking for us both. Following years of being no more than just a few feet apart, we’re now having to learn to contend with our own challenges and adventures once more. Alice in undertaking a gruelling and intensive masters course in physiotherapy and Pete in setting up his own business: ‘Adventure Pedlars’ (more on this to come…) and finding freelance work.

Since our initial amazement at the most basic comforts a more settled life can provide; that we need not carry all of our drinking water with us on a daily basis but instead let it flow from taps (and be flushed down the toilet no less!); that a simple chair can feel like the height of luxury because you’re not sat on the floor; that we have a home of our own that’s not made out of canvas (and that has an oven!); that we have actual possessions like books, records, bikes, clothes, shoes and a dog!; that we have regular access to multiple varieties of cheese… and that speaking to a friend or loved one is no more difficult than picking up a phone or driving down the road; we’ve now become somewhat more accustomed to the ways of a ‘normal’ life (you’ll no longer find me staring, dumfounded in a supermarket aisle, at thirty different varieties of washing powder wondering what’s gone wrong with the world…). Nevertheless we do our best to remember that these things, now seemingly so basic are in fact a great privilege, one that the majority of people on this planet can still only dream of (and one that may well not remain ours forever..).

Another huge privilege for us has been to re-discover this most varied, beautiful, cultured and crowded little island. A dazzling winter’s day, a proper pint of proper beer, bleak moorland, a thronging live music venue, a warm fire in a country pub, drizzle, hedgerows, pies, leafy woodland singletrack, bluebells, crags, summertime barbecues and above all a sense of belonging, of history and of rootedness that you get from no longer being a stranger in a place.

Three years ago we borrowed a quote from T.S Elliot that read: “We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time”. Now, having tested the concept literally, thoroughly and to the best of our ability, we can say that, in so many more ways than we’d first imagined, it is true.

 

 

We don’t normally write in the posts on this blog but today is different. Today we found out the shocking news that our friend Harry was washed out to sea and killed by a freak wave off the UK coast in the early hours of this New Years Day 2014.

Beyond the spreading of sad news and the memory of a good friend, the point of my writing now is this:

As with almost all of my encounters with Harry I’ve been compelled to now get up and act in some way. To write here and spread the influence and some of the sentiment of his story is something, on hearing this news, I immediately felt I must do.

A mutual friend just passed on the story that:

Harry walked down to the beach under the stars singing the blues to a harmonica, he entered the sea naked arms stretched up shouting with joy….. this is the story worth telling”

We’ve both known Harry a long time, he was not a friend we saw everyday but the times that our paths crossed were always special, memorable and truly motivating. He was one of these strange and beautiful gifts to the world, seeming at times to be floating through this life on some sort of etherial cloud of his own. A soul that, once having met, you were never likely to forget. One of his many talents was as a story teller & he had a unique way of emanating his own ‘you can do anything you want to’ way of looking at things on to others like an infectious cloud.

I really don’t feel I exaggerate when I say that he truly influenced everyone he met with his positive energy, love and special way of looking at the world.

I’m not religious, I don’t believe in a physical afterlife but something my grandfather (a wiser man than I) once said was that after death we’ll all live on in the lives and actions of all the other people that we’ve influenced along the way. My own interpretation of this is that no matter how fleeting an encounter may be, it has the power to change the world.

So in this respect, to us and to countless others, our friend Harry will never die.

And through spreading this story now on to those who may have never met him we would hope that in some way his story can live on even stronger.

The days since this tragedy saw the development of, as his friend Tom writes in this blog (http://luddsnextthesea.blogspot.pt/2014/01/stormharry-massive-waves-took-life-of.html):

“one of the biggest swells the Atlantic has ever brewed. A huge low pressure system has been deepening over the days since Harry went into the sea, it is sending ahead giant waves which big wave surfers around the world are flying to Europe to ride.”

There’s currently a campaign afoot to petition the MET office to re-name the storm after Harry. Please ‘Google’ #StormHarry to help support this.

It would truly be a tribute fitting for the boy who floated on air, loved, laughed, told stories and danced away ‘barefoot on the sea’

If you knew Harry, such a poignant, meaningful and symbolic way to leave the world ‘dancing up the biggest storm ever’ is the only way that he really could leave. Nothing less would fit.

If you didn’t know harry, let me say this…

If there’s anybody truly deserving of a life, assured to use it to it’s fullest, it’s people like Harry.

And such is the true nature of this tragedy.

We all have a tendency to take life, the most precious of all things, for granted. From such a shocking moment as this, where one of the few individuals I’ve met who did not is denied a future, a positive thought has been screamed into my consciousness. It is that you have to grab life and live it to it’s absolute fullest everyday. No Exceptions.

This is how Harry inspired people.

This is our own motivation to be doing and to continue what we’re doing now.

And this is, through the most sad and poignant of moment in his story, perhaps a message from Harry that can be spread far and wide and as such continue his life and influence.

Whatever you believe, wherever you are & whatever you do. Life is for living. It is a precious thing. Do not waste it!

To quote Goethe:

“whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.”

If you go to the videos section of this site, find ‘The Wedding’ & skip to 11:14 you’ll see some of Harry’s performance for us on the last day we saw him.

I’d like to paraphrase it now:

“For when they come for us… 

do not take your hand from mine.

Do not take your hand from mine and make a fist with the other!

Never close off, stand tall and when they come, for they will come

to cut our hair.

Tell them we are GODS!

We are DEPARTED!

YOU CAN’T CATCH US NOW!”

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You will be missed and remembered friend.

Our 2013…

It started on a beach in Greece, our tent, a campfire and the stars. From there we travelled east, and excessive chai drinking began, as did the meeting of even more inspirational and incredible people (and animals), we got caught in the ‘Georgian Beer Trap’, developed a love of plov (and mutton fat in general), negotiated with a variety of desert animals, experienced ‘tribe riding’, wallowed in historical marvel in the Uzbek cities of Khiva, Buckhara and Samarkhand, Rode the ‘Roof of the World’ the Pamir highway in Tajikistan (pausing for 18 days on the Afghan border with Alice’s back injury), bathed in mountain rivers, swam in alpine lakes, lived of buckwheat and carrots for a while, were shown unbelievable hospitality, realised fermented horse milk isn’t as bad as it sounds, lounged like the Raj on a house-boat in India, drank more chai, Alice hurt her back again, this time on the second highest motorable pass in the world, Pete worked for a month in Nepal and Alice qualified as a yoga teacher, we converted to a tandem- test riding it in Kathmandu and Bangkok…Had a family holiday in Thailand. And now, one year on we begin riding again from Bangkok. What adventures will 2014 bring?

It’s all slotting into place… Yesterday we booked our ferry tickets!!! Newcastle-Amsterdam!! In 5 days we pick up our new bikes from Ghyllside Cycles in Ambleside! That’s it! We’re definitely going, and its getting closer… And time is going quicker. Eeek! Wedding plans are forming too, save the date cards are out, wedding dress fabric bought, best man informed, venue organised, and most importantly: We have a Bride, and we have a Groom.