The Final Blog
(until the next one)
We landed to find a typical English July day - 15ºC and raining. Our first few hours of 'decompression' were filled with wonder. Getting currency at the airport (you need pound coins to get a luggage trolley) found us like strangers in a strange land.
"Look at the 10 pound note! It looks so old fashioned!"
"The coins are so thick! They're like pirate dubloons!"
Then, at our friends Lynne and Jon's house, we watched our first British TV for nearly a year.
"Wow, David Cameron's looking a bit podgy."
"Aaahhh, the 10 o'clock news. Like a comfy old blanket."
"Hugh Grant on Question Time!?"
Clearly, it was going to take a while to re-adjust.
So, here we are then. The Final Blog. A chance to look back on an incredible year. A chance to thank you for your support and reflect on what we've learned. Or we could just throw out some amazing and pointless stats! OK then, here are the numbers:
Total miles travelled - 38,814
Miles driven in Penny - 18,261
Days on the road - 333
Countries visited - 17
Litres of diesel bought - 2,594
Tents used - 4
Punctures - 3
PC chargers and iPod leads broken - 7
Number of times we've asked "Do you know your wifi key?" - 123
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Did I say thank you? I meant to. I've really enjoyed writing these blogs and the fact that you've bothered to read them has warmed the cockles of my heart. 26 thousand visitors since last August is about 25 thousand more than I would have dared hope for. Really - thank you.
By way of giving a proper credit to those people both at home and on the road who've helped us so much throughout the year, I've made a little video, which I'll post at the bottom of this blog.
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So, to sum up our year ... where to begin? Let's go to San Francisco. That's as beautiful a place as any.
From a comfy apartment in San Francisco, I looked at a street in our North Oxfordshire village. I was reacting to an automated email I'd received informing me of a house that had sold within 500 metres of our own - a free 'nosey parker' service I'd signed up to years ago from which I'd never unsubscribed. After raising my eyebrows at how much the house had fetched, I swung Google Streetview around and looked up the unremarkable, narrow, damp road. I felt a twinge. It wasn't home-sickness, it was angst at the thought of walking up that street again. I'd be back there all too soon, with the grey skies above me and the wonders of the world behind me. People would see me exactly as I pictured myself in that image, the same bloke who'd walked that road a hundred times, dropping kids at school, wandering to the post box, the pub or the park. I couldn't bear the thought that I wouldn't have changed, that this trip wouldn't have changed me ... changed us.
And so I decided to make a list. All boys love a list. As I opened Notebook on the Mac, I recalled a novelty record from the late nineties in which movie director Baz Luhrmann read pithy words of advice, borrowed, supposedly, from a 'school leaver's essay'. As well as advising the listener to wear sunscreen, he summed up a multitude of eternal truths, such as 'Do not read beauty magazines - they will only make you feel ugly' - hardly Neitzsche, but he had a point. I didn't want a whole novelty record's worth of one liners, but I wanted ... something - at best, a declaration of what I'd learned from my adventure. At worst, a list of 'stuff'.
It began like this:
Taps. No one ever thinks about them. During 9 weeks in India I became wedded to plastic water bottles. We watched countless women and children pump muddy water into buckets and carry them to their homes. I vowed never to take our drinking water for granted again. But of course, I do. Bless the tap. It's more valuable than we give it credit for.
Some problems might be unfixable. I know this sounds defeatist, but really, brace yourself. Australia's white community has about as much in common with its Aboriginal community as I do. In other words, nothing. They share a land mass, but that is all. That 2 such polar ways of living, such opposite mindsets, will ever merge is impossible to comprehend. Also, India is too full. Over 1 billion people live there. That's 1 in 6 people on Earth. Most of the wealth is shared between about 7 of them. Possibly 8 if Shahrukh Khan gives his cousin a job. It's corrupt. These are things I can't fix. Nor can you. If you want to fix something, oil a door hinge. Put up a shelf. If you do find a way to fix them, please tell me. Then come and fix my wobbly shelf.
No one explores their home. I met lots of Australians, but few who'd been to Ayers Rock. I met lots of Americans, but few who'd been to Yosemite. I would criticise them, but I live half an hour from Shakespeare's birthplace. Never been. When was the last time you went to Stonehenge, The British Museum or visited Parliament? Exactly. Where ever you are, chances are you have some treasures within an hour or 2 that are amazing and that you've never seen. Go. Be a tourist.
A playwright was born here, apparently
A Volkswagen T25 is a wondrous machine. It oozes charm, turns heads and looks great. So, you might argue, does Keira Knightly. But will Keira carry you around the world in return for nothing more than a regular oil change and some Diesel Kleen? I rest my case.
Everyone wants the same stuff. And weirdly, it's not money. I've been struck by the similarities I've seen in people from such diverse cultures. The overwhelming friendship and generosity we've received on our journey is humbling, and everywhere we find the same home truths. From Muslims in the Middle East to Hindus in India, people put family first. They want the best for their kids, they want a safe home and they want a happy home. The world really isn't a dark and scary place. It's full of people like me and you. They smile first, ask questions later. They look for friendship rather than barriers. Remember this when the TV news shows protesters chanting in a foreign tongue, crowds in burkas or slum dwellers in Mumbai. We all want the same stuff.
It's good to do something scary. No one likes being outside their comfort zone. The fear of failure and the fear of the unknown are stifling. But, really, you should take a risk once in a while. I know a woman (because I'm married to her) who would never have considered quitting jobs, schools and a home to travel around the world in a camper van. I still don't know why she agreed. But she'll tell you that doing something scary always reaps rewards. Almost all the memorable, happiest moments of our journey, and the great new friends we made, can be traced directly back to the fact that we chose to 'put ourselves out there' and take a risk. Whether it was busking (which is terrifying), or asking to camp in someone's drive or car park, if we'd have kept ourselves to ourselves and checked into a hotel, none of these brilliant things would have happened. (And we'd have been broke). The point is, doing stuff that scares you always reaps rewards. Fact.
Don't trust an Italian.
Well, don't trust an Italian Volkswagen dealership.
Well, don't trust an Italian Volkswagen dealership in Alessandria called Zentrum VW.
They are bad people.
All other Italians, to my knowledge, are bella.
Earth is doomed. OK, that's a tad melodramatic. But think back - how old were you when you first heard about 'global warming' or 'the greenhouse effect'? I was 18. Now I'm 41. 23 years after I recall first being aware of environmental issues India pollutes with gay abandon, America still drills for oil (at the cost of Alaska, oh, and let's not forget the Mexican gulf - good work BP) and Australia spends weeks wringing its hands over a 'green' Carbon Tax while, unfettered by conscience, its economy booms selling billions of tons of coal to China, the world's biggest polluter. All I'm saying is, if we want to save the planet for our grandchildren, we've got a long way to go. And if all these issues seem too big, too vast, and too far away to be bothered with, remember what Gandhi said - 'You must be the change you want to see in the world'.
Wise words, Mahatma.
Do not refer back to my message about unfixable problems. I was talking about something else then. This is one we can fix.
Family matters. No, you can't choose them. Yes, they drive you insane. Seeing the importance other cultures put on family has made me aware of how disparate our community has become, especially with regard to our own flesh and blood. A prestigious magazine conducted an international poll last year asking people to define 'integrity'. Western people said it means being honest and straight, especially in business - not being 'two faced'. Whereas in the Middle East 'integrity' means providing for your family, caring for your brother if he's sick or providing for his kids if he dies. Their priorities are completely different. We've been amazed at how well we've all rubbed along as a family for a year, especially in such a small living space, and we're resolute that we can't simply drop back into only having one meal a week together (Sunday lunch) and passing each other like ships in the night. I know that's easy to say, and an idealistic dream, but it's worth the effort. Look after your family. They're the only one you get.
America doesn't get 'shade'. Australia is so acutely aware of skin cancer that often sunscreen is available free at public pools and beaches, and massive sails are always erected to create shade. A car park without shade is unheard of in Oz. But in the States - nothing. "Park in the shade" we would quip, entering yet another sun-baked barren parking lot. Pink babies cooking in prams, peeling backs on fair-skinned mothers, hoards of 'summer camp' teens char-broiling on campsites with not a hat between them. I can't believe I'm saying this, I'm aghast that my whole year of worldly wisdom might be reduced to these 2 words, but Baz was right all along.
Wear sunscreen.
** Disclaimer **
The editing of this video was done over many fraught late nights and early mornings, normally at the only power socket available - standing at a basin in a campsite toilet. I am constantly paranoid that I've left important people out. If you are not featured in this video, and feel you should have been, please send your complaint to Simeon Courtie, Penny The Van, A Road in England ... in fact, forget that - I'll be round soon asking for a cup of sugar. See me then.
So long, reader, and thanks for all the clicks.
Sim xx
"A measure of a man is what he does when he has nothing to do." Robert Fulton Jr., (author of One Man Caravan)
