Cooney World Adventure One Family, Five People, One World, Infinite Dreams

Morgan reminisces about Uluru.

Thu, 4 Mar 2010 09:04:46 -0500

Uluru: It is the heart of Australia. The giant sandstone monolith rises hundreds of feet above the endless miles that surround it. I can see the desert’s most imposing natural feature in the fading light. The reddish-purple hues cast by the sun as it dropped below the horizon to make way for a full moon, contrasted sharply with the landscape. I looked at Uluru for several minutes; a sharp breeze rattled several trees and reminded me of the firewood I needed to collect. As I made my way back to the area my family had made camp I gathered dry branches that had died from their inability to quench their need for water in the unforgiving land. When I arrived at the campsite, I placed the dead branches in the fire pit and proceeded to make a fire. They caught quickly after the moisture had been sucked out of them over months in the desert sun. My family circled around the dancing flames of the fire and looked up. The cloudless skies of the outback held millions of starts that stared back like the brightest of fireflies. After about an hour, we all made our way to our tents. I lay down; checking my sleeping bag for the venomous snakes and spiders Australia is famous for. I was thankful for remembered to clear all the rocks from my sleeping area that would dig into the bone as you tossed and turned throughout the night making it nearly impossible to sleep. I soon had fallen asleep to the gentle swaying of the trees and vegetation; hardy enough to survive the harsh conditions.
I woke up early the next morning; shivering in the cold desert air that had severely dropped from the previous night. As I unzipped my tent and crawled out, I felt the bitter wind which raced across the land. The ochre colored dunes to the north of our camp did little to obstruct the strong breeze’s cold fingers. I soon made a fire, making sure the burning flames did not get out of control. By the time the inferno had reached its peak, my whole family was up and my mom was already making a warm bowl of oatmeal. After each of us finished our bowl full of warm oats and a hint of brown sugar, we began packing up our camp. After a month of traveling and camping from Darwin to our present location in the center of Australia, it did not take long to pack up everything and finish the last leg of our journey to the world’s most famous rock.
For thousands of years, the aborigines have shared the seemingly inhospitable land around Uluru with the native plants and wildlife. They see themselves as not the owners, but the caretakers of one of the earth’s most amazing landscapes. The aborigines believe a person can not experience the land they have looked after for generations by taking everything in through bush-walks. Observe the beautiful animals; smell the plants. They want to share this with everyone who respects their land and culture; however they ask that no one climbs Uluru. To them, this ancient and mysterious rock is part of their spiritual journey. It holds the mysteries of their past and secrets to their future. Out of respect, I did not climb Uluru, instead, I chose to walk around the base, and experience it the way the aborigines wanted.
I started my walk alone: seeing and listening to the life around me. Life in this desert is not as stagnant and unchanging as one would think at first glance. As I wander, I notice a mob of kangaroos look up, indifferent to my presence. A flock of lorikeets appear as a rainbow with their brilliant shades of red, blue, and green as they raucously take flight. The long shadows I walked under shrank before my eyes as the sun’s golden orb rose higher in the sky. I came around a corner to see, hidden behind a bush, a deep cleft in the side of Uluru. I looked inside: intrigued and hoping to catch a glimpse of the rock art painted by the indigenous people centuries ago. I was not disappointed; as my eyes adjusted to the dim light of the cave, I saw paintings of aboriginal men, kangaroos, snakes, and many other things that held special significance to the artist but meant little to me. For several minutes, I admired the ancient artwork, wondering how many thousands of years before me a man sat in this very cave with his traditional dyes and artist’s vision.
I began my walk again, marveling at the way the smooth sandstone had been shaped over the years. Rounded boulders that lay at the base, stood before me as I walked, each held its own story in aboriginal legend. The sun was at its peak and it was as bright as the wildfires that occasionally charred the land in previous summers. The trail I walk on now is called Leru Path which in the native language means venomous snake. I keep an eye out, hoping to see one of the king browns or death adders this path is named for but, no luck. The powdery red sand parted beneath my every step as I turned my eyes toward the sky. High above silhouetted before the deep blue sky was an eagle. It screeched as it passed over the burning sun and disappeared over the south face of Uluru which was now only several paces away. It truly seemed as though this was another time; a time before cars, computers, and cell phones, possibly even people. Indeed, it had been hours since I left the parking lot where other visitors would start the climb up this sacred rock and since then I had seen no people. However, I did not feel alone, the presence of life was strong. The birds, kangaroos, lizards and plants all were reminders that the earth is always alive, everywhere. Reaching the west face, I had already walked hours and the shadows were lengthening. I heard the faint voices of people in the distance. As I grew closer, and turned the corner I saw them, my first reminder of people since the start of my journey. I continued to the parking lot, where I met up with my family again.
We drove back the same potholed roads to where we would make camp for the night. While this was a different site from the previous night, we still had the grand monolith in view. As my brothers and I set up camp my parents prepared dinner. Soon, the distinct smell of coconut curry, which we learned to make while traveling to Cambodia, brought everyone in our family from what we were doing. We sat around, each retelling the stories of our day at Uluru. As the day grew late and the sun again started to drop, we each looked to a rock as old as time. The red sandstone turned purple as it did the previous night and as it has done for thousands of years the most impressive sight of the outback soon grew dark and was replaced by the thousands of stars in the endless sky above us.

Harrison’s big adventure

Sun, 14 Feb 2010 10:41:40 -0500

As we have stated countless times, we made the commitment to take Morgan, Zach and Harrison around the world to give them the tools and experience they need to think independently and travel whenever the opportunity arises. It sure sounds like a great idea until your 16-year old states he is going with a friend to Puerto Rico for a surf weekend. “What, are you crazy??!!”, would have been the response before our trek, and interestingly Catrell and I had a similar reaction when he stated his intentions about eight weeks ago.

In reality, our response was a bit more measured and we listen to his plan before commenting. After all, it seemed a bit disingenuous on our part to espouse the theories of independent thinking and traveling at will, only to say, no he cannot travel to Puerto Rico for a surf weekend . . . even if he was paying for it. However, after taking a deep breath we were supportive, but had to reach a compromise on several issues. For example, instead of Harrison and his friend taking a late flight Thursday evening and arriving at nearly midnight in San Juan, I offered get up at 2:45 a.m. and take them to the airport for a 6:00 a.m. flight. You’ll forgive me if I did not shout “whoopee”, but that is what compromises are made of - give and take. In this case “taking away” from my beauty sleep, which is arguably a priority as well.

On the night before departure, Harrison and his friend put their surf boards in a board bag and strapped them to the top of the car. We even backed the car into the garage for a quick and efficient departure the following morning. After only about four hours sleep the alarm abruptly woke us from our slumber and we were ready to depart promptly at 3:00 a.m.

I must have missed the weather report the night before, because I was surprised when the garage door rolled up and it was raining. At that moment it did not seem like a big deal so we said our good byes to Catrell and departed. It was only a 45-minute drive to the airport, so the rain was of little concern.

What I failed to remember was a similar experience only a few weeks previous when we were carrying the board bag on top of the car during a torrential rain storm. That time quickly sprang to mind as I realized the rain was picking up, and in all likelihood we were driving into it, not away from it. As we drove the rain got heavier and that’s when I remembered why we swore we would never drive in the rain with the board bags on the roof of the car.

The bag is held on by straps running through where the door meets the roof of the car and is secured by drawing the straps through buckles inside the car - both front and back doors. Unfortunately, the straps compromise the otherwise tight rubber seal around the door, which soon became abundantly obvious. Several weeks earlier during a similar storm, Catrell was driving and the water from the rain followed the straps into the car as if a hose had been connected to a spigot. I dumped out a change cup and was literally catching the water to keep it was dripping on her head and running down her face and blurring her vision. There was no place to pull under, or we would have. Harrison was trying to catch the rain running in the back as well, but with little success.

Fast forward, 12 weeks and now I am the one getting drenched. Except it’s 3:15 a.m. and the wind is so strong I can barely hold the car on the road plus the water is running in as if a funnel is attached to a hose which has been mounted on the outside of the car. And the hose is directly over my left ear dripping onto the seat belt and water is following down the front of my shirt to regions below. Who says you have to be on a different continent to have an adventure? Now that I think about it, I believe that was me!

We made it to the airport just as the storm was abating. Later I spoke to Catrell and she said she had been tracking the storm on her computer and it appeared we drove through the worst part of the entire storm. Besides getting soaked, all I could think about during the drive was the straps breaking from the high winds and the board bag flying off the roof. At least the water might have stopped pouring over me.

I had dressed that morning for a meeting I needed to attend in Orlando later that day. When I went into the terminal to make sure the check-in went smoothly for Harrison and his friend, I looked down to see the front of my shirt was ruined. There were wet black streaks running down the front from where the rain had ran off the straps onto the seat belt and wicked across the front of my shirt. Fortunately I had time before my meeting to visit Walmart and buy an $8 white dress-shirt. And yes, it looked like an $8 shirt. But my sport-coat covered most of the deep creases, which were the result of having been packed and shipped from China six months previous.

That little adventure to the airport foretold the rest of their surf weekend which included getting lost after arriving in Puerto Rico, raining the first night so they had to sleep in the car, getting the car stuck in the sand on the second night and having the window smashed out of the car Sunday with their money and cell phones stolen. Harrison will fill in the details when he writes the blog about his “Big Adventure”. When asked would he do it again, the answer without hesitation was, yes!

Even though the trip was a bit nerve wracking for Catrell and me, we would like to believe our experiences during our trek paid off. He returned safely with lots of stories to tell. That’s the difference between doing and wishing. There are always challenges, but as with our trek, the adventures far outweighed the potential risks. Although I did not appreciate it at the time, even the 45-minute drive to the airport at 3:00 a.m. with a board bag on top of the car in hurricane force winds during monsoon conditions made for a great travel story. And the dream lives on!

The princess and the frog.

Thu, 4 Feb 2010 19:42:08 -0500

My original title for this blog was going to be “Boating, frog style”. But after telling Catrell what I was writing about she suggested the new and, in her opinion, improved story line. I will let you decide who is who in this story. Hint: either way, I was going to represent the frog. Every time Catrell gives me a kiss, she closes her eyes and secretly prays that when she opens them a prince will appear. You would think after nearly 25 years of marriage she’d give up hope - not trying, just hope.

My reference to the amphibious creature is due to my new fangled footwear. Once on, I have an overwhelming urge to say revet, eat flies and hop rather than walk. The transformation comes after successfully installing my feet into my new Fivefingers shoes.

I have had my eye on the far-out footwear for several years, but could not justify getting them. However, living near the beach and being able to go out more often on our boat helped justify my want. Working on and around a boat is usually easier barefoot. Unfortunately, I’ve never been a barefoot kinda guy. I am definitely a “tender foot” and sometimes have trouble walking on tile floors, much less shell strewn beaches and nonskid boat surfaces.

The Fivefingers (seems like they should be called Fivetoes) are the shoe version of toe socks. Their odd appearance notwithstanding, they are surprisingly comfortable. Initially, the greatest challenge is learning how to put them on. Installing fingers in gloves is easy because you have control over your digits, but toes are a very different experience. The larger toes are reasonably responsive, but smaller toes are like a cat - they simply ignore all commands. Of course, if only I had read the instructions on the box the process might not have been so challenging. Big toe first, followed by the uncooperative digits in descending size - reciting the nursery rhyme “Baba Black Sheep” helped tremendously.

The pros are numerous and include a great grip (although I don’t recommend climbing walls like a frog - it doesn’t work, and I will leave it at that), surprisingly good support for such a flat shoe and great toe dexterity when climbing or walking. I am sure they are also great for surfing and even hiking.

Best of all, they actually massage your toes, which affords a rather pleasurable sensation while wearing them. Sometimes the perpetual grin on my face is rather difficult to explain to the princess. Need I say more?

There are a couple of cons. Even with the support and thick rubber soles, there is no cushion from hard surfaces such as concrete. My tender feet can still feel the jarring impact when I walk. Walking on the beach is great, but hard surfaces can become uncomfortable after a while of constant treading. The second con is that you don’t just slip them on and go like sandals. Although it’s getting easier, it still takes several minutes and a lot of concentration to get them on.

They certainly get the looks and are an instant conversation starter. I would not put them in the chick-magnet category; however, everyone is intrigued by their strange appearance and ask a multitude of questions. Typically they want to know how they feel, do I like them, would I recommend them and how many flies have I caught. And the answers are great, yes, yes and none.

The moral of the story is no matter how many times the princess kisses the frog, he’s still a frog. But he’s also smiling with every step he takes in his Fivefingers. At least someone gets something out of this story. THE END

4 months, but who’s counting.

Tue, 26 Jan 2010 18:47:18 -0500

We’ve been back nearly four months and so much has happened. We now call Cape Canaveral home. Morgan and Zach have started Brevard Community College, while Harrison is working part-time and completing his last two years of Florida Virtual School. Catrell did well with her eBay business over the holidays and is making sure we all maintain our healthy lifestyle. I am managing projects for one of my previous clients and working on a few follow up projects that surfaced during our trek.

Getting back into a routine has been much harder than any of us expected. And although we don’t expect anyone to feel sorry for us, the fact is reality really stinks. Yes, it’s good to see family and friends, but the “call” of the open road is always “ringing” in our ears. Our largest nonessential purchase was a 37” HD television, which we watch our videos and photos on. Reliving our experiences is a constant reminder of our awesome adventure. And we keep reminding ourselves that this is only a temporary respite before one day embarking on another great trek. Although we may not travel as a family every time, we all received a severe bite from the travel bug and will always be planning the next big adventure.

We refuse to accept the statement many people make about our odyssey . . . “It was a once in a lifetime experience.” For us, both individually and collectively, it will be one of many great travel experiences during our lifetimes. It may take a few years to plan and save for the next great adventure, but it’s only a matter of time before we hit the road again. For example, Catrell and I have already started planning in a few years to drive from Texas to Panama. Should be plenty of blog material and pictures during that trek.

When we returned, my goal was to keep the web site current and post updated blogs and pictures. Another reason why reality stinks is because it’s so boring! I cannot imagine anyone logging on weekly to learn what new laundry detergent we are using or the subtle differences between various brands of tofu. If I am wrong please tell me. Of course if I am, you really need a travel adventure worse than we do.

The creep.

Mon, 25 Jan 2010 18:52:21 -0500

No, it’s not what Catrell calls me when she’s mad - at least not to my face! The creep I am referring to is a phenomenon that we all experience, and one that’s not easy to control. Before and during the trek, and now that we are in one place for a while, the creep I allude to is a relentless nuisance that can, and does, get completely out of hand.

So what the heck am I rambling on about? I am referring to the stuff that “creeps” into our lives and mysteriously accumulates in drawers, cupboards, backpacks and enclosed areas of all kinds. Before departing on the first leg of our trek, we had nine garage sales. You would think we had nothing left. But oh no, we still had stuff aplenty.

We reduced most of our worldly possessions to one small room in Catrell’s parents’ house before leaving on August 25, 2008. Not bad for five people, but still not ideal for the minimalist lifestyle we aspire to. Although I wanted to cash in the boys’ bronze booties at the metal scrap yard, Catrell was not willing to go quite that far. She still did not budge even after stating a very persuasive argument . . . “The money from selling the bronze booties would pay for five bus tickets in most of the countries on our itinerary.” In hindsight, I should have suggested we use the money to eat out a few more times or for a trip to a day-spa. That might have swayed her.

During the trek I constantly complained about carrying too much stuff. For the most part, everyone was responsible for their own belongings plus there were one or two communal bags between us. Catrell’s rolling suitcase was the heaviest by far. It wasn’t because she carried a lot of girly things - although I am sure there were a few. Instead her bag contained medical supplies and an assortment of homeopathic remedies plus several cure-all books . . . it was a mom thing.

No doubt we carried several unnecessary redundancies, although the justification was that it was better to have back-ups than waste time finding repair shops along the way. Four laptops, three cameras, five iPods and a plethora of plugs, chargers and converters added a lot of weight. Along with several one-pound 220V to 120V converters we carried for recharging purposes, it was also necessary to have a variety of converter plugs because of the various wall socket configurations from country to country.

During our travels, each of us had things that we could not part with. For me it was books. Some days I felt like a Himalayan sherpa carrying supplies to Everest’s base camp. At times nearly one-third of the weight in my backpack was taken up by books. I carried a wide selection since I was not sure if there would be an ample supply of books in English along the way. Except for Southeast Asia, I should not have worried, as there were book exchanges at many of the places we stayed and used book stores in nearly every city. As a result of the trek, I discovered several new authors including Bryce Courtenay, who consistently produces the best books I have ever read. He was born in South Africa and lives in Australia, and his novels revolve around both locations. Gotta love a guy with that kind of subject matter!

The other items that some of the tribe members could not do without included Harrison’s guitar, Catrell’s flannel PJs and fuzzy slippers, and throughout Australia, New Zealand and Fiji Morgan and Zachary each carried a didgeridoo. Harrison’s ever-present stringed instrument has logged more miles than most people. Many times while camping in Australia, we could hear him playing away from camp at night, which made the experience both enjoyable and very, very memorable. The same can be said for Morgan and Zach’s didge playing.

We also jettisoned many items along the way. The trail was littered with things we left behind, both intentionally and unintentionally. For example, I (intentionally) left a small travel pillow in Cambodia. It didn’t do much for the weight, but did make the backpack less bulky. And in Swaziland I (unintentionally) left my iPod in our beehive-looking accommodation. The interior was very dark and I missed seeing it lying on the night stand beside the bed. I didn’t discover it missing until later that day when we were back in South Africa. I called the lodge and was told they did not find it. I know better, but there was nothing I could do. It was my fault for not being more careful, and I paid dearly for it.

As almost everyone knows, we chose Cape Canaveral as our new home, and moved all of our worldly belongings there the end of October 2009. It took us several hours to pack a 14’ Uhaul and only about 30 minutes to unload it. Although I was grousing the entire time we packed about all we still had, in reality it was a remarkably small amount of stuff for a family of five.

Just this morning, Morgan quoted a line from a movie he watched that seemed to sum it up perfectly. To paraphrase . . . “The things we own, end up owning us.” Yes, we still have a lot, but it is much less stuff than before our trek. And as proof of my resolve to not let “the creep” take over our lives again, today at the farmers market I did not buy the specially designed spoon for eating grapefruit. One small step for less clutter. One giant leap for less creep.

Beehive where Mike left his iPod.

Ever dreamed of flying like a bird?

Thu, 7 Jan 2010 14:47:24 -0500

Have you ever dreamed of being able to fly? Don’t lie, you know you have. The thrill of gliding among the treetops and above all the other people walking below you would feel awesome right? What about testing your balance high in the trees? Well, if you live in the Central Florida area, it is possible at the Central Florida Zoo!

It was only yesterday that we went back to the Central Florida Zoo, a zoo that Zach and I love and have been volunteering at since we were 13. I can’t believe it has been over a year since we were last there. The last we went was just before beginning the second part of our around the world adventure to Africa, Asia, Australia, and Fiji. Now, as we drive down the all to familiar road past the swamps, we notice something new. It is an obstacle course in the trees, complete with hanging obstacles, many challenges to test your balance, and zip lines! Needless to say, both Zach and I wanted to try it out, so when we met up with some of our friends in the park and they ask if we’d like to try it out. We immediately said OF COURSE. We were beyond stoked!

After a discussion about safety and the equipment and we were harnessed and ready to go. We climbed the ladders to many different levels and platforms among the treetops where we walked across hanging obstacles to test our balance. The good thing about these obstacles are you can make them as difficult as you want, you can use two hands to get across or show off and use none. The difficulty level is up to you which makes it fun for anyone!

After we got a feel for the course, we moved to the a harder level which happens to be the most fun! It starts with you climbing 45 feet in the air up a series of ladders to a platform. Once at the top, you attach yourself to a zip line. This is where the flying comes in, as you glide above the parking lot full of people and through the treetop canopy; you feel like a bird, it is an amazing feeling. Once you soar up to the platform on the other side you are ready for the rainforest course, this tests your balance and concentration like none of the challenges before as you make your way through the canopy. Unfortunately the course must come to an end sometime and although it took 2 ½ hours to complete, it was way to soon. Zach and I had so much fun; we wanted to try it again right away. There are so many reasons to try this out: test your balance, get active while having a great time, have the feeling of flight, overcome your fear of heights in safety. So come out and give it a try. It’s a great way to spend a day. See you there!

What’s old is new again - Part 2.

Mon, 16 Nov 2009 08:28:44 -0500

Our second series of used purchases were four bikes. Catrell already had a very nice beach cruiser so the four male tribe-members were in search of an eco-friendly transport solution. God put pawn shops and thrift shops on the planet for people just like us, and fortunately the Cocoa Beach area is amply blessed by the Almighty.

I found a bike for $50 at a local pawn shop. It was in excellent condition with a large well-padded seat to carry my gluteus maximus in comfortable style. Apart from some minor adjustments and a little oil on the bike chain it was ready to go.

Our second and third bike purchases occurred at another of the Almighty’s chosen procurement establishments. Upon entering the shop, we saw an old well-worn bike and asked to take it outside for a test drive. While riding it around the parking lot, I was approached by two not-so-savory characters asking how much the owner of the pawn shop was asking for the bike. When I told him $30, one of them said he would sell us the bike he was riding for $5.

Although in worse condition than the one I had test drove I liked the price and knew it would look better with a little TLC. I asked if I would get burned if I touched it and he assured me it was not stolen he just needed some money to get to Michigan - the street or state?

I took the first bike back inside the shop and walked out to do the deal. The pawn shop owner was in hot pursuit and acted none to pleased that I was doing a deal for another bike in his parking lot. By now Harrison was holding the bike and ready to ride off once we handed over the $5. However, plans were slightly derailed while the two unsavory characters and the pawn shop owner traded unflattering stories about their heritage and parental linage. Catrell and I stood on the sidelines while poor Harrison stood holding the bike while trying to decide what to do next. He looked at me and I just shrugged, which did not appear to be the response he was looking for.

After much discussion we agreed to take our transaction to the parking lot next door. However, the two characters and the pawn shop owner continued to trade insults until the proprietor said he was calling the police. By now, Catrell and Harrison wanted to leave without the slightly used-but-good $5 bike. An option I said was unthinkable. As we drove to the next parking lot the pawn shop owner told me his issue was not with us, but the other two who had already tried to sell him the bike. I assured him we still needed two more bikes and would likely be back for the one I test drove.

The two unsavory characters continued to share their opinions of the pawn shop owner with us. We neither affirmed or denied their accusations, paid the $5 and Harrison peddled away at high speed - that was until the chain came off. I put the chain back on and told him I would ride it to our new house, which was only a few blocks away. While peddling to our new home, a Sheriff’s deputy drove slowly by eyeing me. Apparently I did not match the pawn shop owner’s description and the Deputy thankfully kept driving.

Later that day we stopped at several pawn shops to look for bikes. After much searching we went back and bought the bike I had test drove earlier. The owner reiterated he did not have an issue with me, just the two guys selling the bike in his parking lot. I agreed to pay $30 for his bike earlier, so I was surprised when he rang it up and said that will be $25. Either he forgot the price we had agreed on or feeling a bit guilty. I will put $25 on the former and not the latter, as he was not very friendly even before I bought the bike for $5.

Morgan found a beach cruiser in great shape for only $30 at a local Thrift Shop. The grand total for all four bikes is $111.50, less than one new bike. Our new and improved minimalist austerity program seems to be working well. Now if I could just find some slightly used, but good underwear.

What’s old is new again - Part 1.

Sun, 8 Nov 2009 19:45:15 -0500

In keeping with our minimalist lifestyle we are buying used whenever possible. Two prime examples include a second vehicle and two-wheeled eco-friendly transport. New is nice but not necessary.

Between 1999 and 2003 I worked for a company called NorTeam. It’s a purchasing management company from which I learned a lot about procuring on both a professional and personal level. The company’s number one tenet is to distinguish between need and want. What I want is a shinny new pickup truck, which also brings with it large seemingly unending payments and an instant depreciation of at least 15-percent. However, what we need is reliable transportation that will get us safely from point A to point B and beyond.

Since Morgan and Zachary will need their own set of wheels soon, we decided to look for a used pickup truck. I went online and researched various options that would meet our needs. In addition, Catrell and I stopped at several car lots when we saw something that looked like a possible match. When asked by the sales associates what we were looking for, my reply usually was met with a “You’ve got to joking.” reaction - a pickup truck with less than 100,000 miles for under $4,500. We were assured on numerous occasions such transportation equipment did not exist. At least none that ran under its own power.

We eventually chose a 1999 Jeep Cherokee with an inline six-cylinder engine. It was within budget and had 83,000 miles on it. The paint job is original and except for a few scratches, looks great! I had it checked out by an independent mechanic who told us it was in excellent condition, and added “we did good”.

Morgan and Zach will inherit our Toyota Camry, which has served us well. It has 156,000 miles, runs like new and gets very good gas mileage. Apart from a few dents, scrapes and a partially missing door handle it gets us safely from point A to point Z and all destinations in between. It is the quintessential example of need versus want. It may not be what we want, but it more than meets our needs. And best of all . . . it’s paid for.

We’ve found a new home....sort of.

Sun, 8 Nov 2009 19:35:12 -0500

I am back in the writing saddle again. And now that we have a semi-permanent residence expect to see more new blogs and pictures on the site.

It’s hard to believe we’ve been home more than a month. We are adjusting to the so called “normal life” and doing it under duress. After traveling for over a year only helped prove it’s a highly overrated concept. As I have said before, packing up and moving nearly every day is much easier than putting down roots, albeit shallow roots.

We are leasing a furnished condo in Cape Canaveral, Florida (for our international followers it’s approximately 45 minutes east of Orlando on the beach) for six months. When we ran the numbers it was less expensive to go that route for several reasons . . . 1) we still don’t know exactly where we want to settle down (perish the thought), 2) since we sold all of our furniture it was going to cost a lot (even used) to replace it, and last but not least, 3) who knows when my money making scheme to win the lottery will pay off - we don’t want to be tied down long-term.

Morgan and Zach are still hardcore travelers and as proof do not have beds. The condo came with beds enough for Catrell, me and Harrison, but not for them. Zach was sleeping on an inflatable mattress, which was not very comfortable and he asked for a mattress to put on the floor, but did want anything fancier than that. Morgan swears he cannot sleep on a bed any more and will only sleep on the floor. I applaud his resolve for two reasons: 1) he’s not given into the creature comforts of soft living, and 2) his camping lifestyle is saving us $$. I have only made one request - no lighting fires in his room to keep warm.

So far we love the Cape Canaveral/Cocoa Beach area. It’s much more laid back than Orlando, which compliments our new and improved lifestyle. Once you’ve traveled and seen what we have it’s easy to know what’s really important. And dying of stress-related illnesses is not how most of the rest of the world actually lives.

The “rat race” is a competition we have no interest in entering any time soon - hopefully never again! That’s not to say we won’t get jobs, work hard and give our employers exceptional added-value. It simply means we choose to live a more balanced life.

Once a traveler, always a traveler.

Sun, 11 Oct 2009 20:01:16 -0400

Now that we are home, we’ve begun to look for a place to live and are dealing with all the other mundane tasks to reestablish ourselves on a semi-permanent basis. We’ll be staying in Florida for a while although we’ve all begun to plan where we want to travel in the not-to-distant future. Catrell and I want to revisit Central America, and eventually Morgan, Zach and Harrison will be scattered to the four points on the compass.

We have no regrets about selling virtually everything we own and cashing in my retirement to finance our around the world trek. In fact to the contrary, it was the best decision we ever made. The practical, hands-on education the boys received during the journey will last them a lifetime, and has given them the tools to succeed wherever life takes them. Morgan and Zach will start college soon, and Harrison will complete his remaining two years of high school via Florida Virtual School.

Listening to Morgan, Zach and Harrison talk about what they have learned, seen and the knowledge they’ve acquired is extremely rewarding to Catrell and me. The journey has validated that we live in a great country and should never take anything for granted. It also opened our minds to understand how people live, work and think throughout the world and to understand other points of view and perspectives.

I don’t consider our trek to be a once in a lifetime experience. Just the opposite, it’s only the beginning. As a wise person once said once a traveler, always a traveler.

Fun Facts!

Sun, 11 Oct 2009 19:55:59 -0400

Now that we are back in Florida, the following are a few travel facts that even surprised us. And we lived it!

Total number of countries visited during the first and second leg of our journey: 22
Mexico, Belize, Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Peru, Chile, Argentina, Uruguay, Brazil, Germany, South Africa, Swaziland, Qatar Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Australia, New Zealand, and Fiji

First leg: Central and South America - August 25 to December 12, 2008

Miles traveled by bus: 3,924
Miles driven: 426
Miles flown: 9,457
Total miles traveled: 13,807

Second leg: Southern Africa, Southeast Asia, Australia, New Zealand and Fiji - March 1 to September 26, 2009

Miles traveled by bus: 1,4097
Miles driven: 13,996
Miles flown: 32,342

Total miles traveled (not including walking and hiking) during 20-country odyssey: 61,669

If we laid dollar bills end to end for the entire distance we traveled (not including walking and hiking), it would represent $651,224,640. If only we could have picked them up along the way our journey would have lasted much, much longer.

We will continue to update the web site with new blogs and pictures. Although they won’t be as worldly as in months past, we promise to keep them entertaining and informative. It’s only a matter of time before we hit the open road (or waterways) to embark on a new adventure. As some wise person said, “Once a traveler, always a traveler.”.

A tribute to the wonderful people we met during our journey.

Sun, 4 Oct 2009 19:33:14 -0400

I wrote a blog following our trek through Central and South America recognizing the people we met along the way. Some we knew, some we learned to know and some offered assistance without a need to know them. All were unsung heros who helped to make our journey comfortable, safe and more memorable. This leg of our around the world trek was no different.

The blog titled “SanWild Sanctuary - Part 5” describes the wonderful people at SanWild. Louise, Andre, Lizel, Gary and Ellen gave us the opportunity of a lifetime for which we will always be grateful. We also met fellow guests Emily and Stewart, a recently transplanted freelance writing duo from London. Since the original blog, they wrote a piece about SanWild that appeared in a U.K. newspaper, and have covered other African-based news including firsthand courtroom accounts of Madonna’s adoption woes in Malawi.

It was also great to see Stewart and Jenny while we were staying in Simons Town, South Africa - near Cape Town. I met Stewart when he visited Orlando with a business delegation from Cape Town in 1998. I saw him twice at the end of the same year in Cape Town, and we’ve stayed in contact ever since.

We met several wonderful people in Southeast Asia as well. Many thanks to Ken and Lesley who we met at a resort in Ko Chang, Thailand. They live in Sydney and gave us lots of information and many tips that saved us time and money during our month-long camping experience. They even invited us to stay with them, but we did not want to impose.

Then there was Sony and Hazel in Siem Reap, Cambodia. He is the manager of the hotel where we stayed and she is his girlfriend who is from Singapore. Both were great sources of information, and Hazel has become one of our most loyal followers.

In Kep, Cambodia we met Chanon who became our adopted daughter. She worked at the lodge where we stayed and became apart of our lives for the seven days we were there. She sends us emails that start with “Dear mom, dad and boys” and ends it with “I miss you and love you, your daughter”. Chanon gave us her cell phone number and we plan to surprise her with a call soon.

We also met two Buddhist Nuns while staying in Kep. To learn more about them read the blog titled “The Nuns.”.

Jim, an expat from Australia, was our guardian angel in Hon Chong, Vietnam. To read about the invaluable assistance he and his wife Chinh provided in our hour of need read “Our guardian angle. I just never guessed he would be Aussie.”.

While staying at a caravan park in Alice Springs, Australia we met Paul. He asked if we wanted the food he had left, as he was heading home the next day. If he had known us better, he would have realized what a ridiculous question that was. Any offer of food is always an emphatic yes, except for meat of course.

After talking for a few minutes he said he lived in Sydney and I told him we would be there at the end of the month. He invited us to stay at his place, which having just met him I took to mean he had an apartment we could rent. As we talked I realized he meant staying with him in his apartment. He went on to explain he is single with a large apartment, has traveled a lot and enjoys hosting fellow travelers. I told him there were five of us, and asked if he wanted to reconsider, which he did not. We agreed to stay in contact and planned to crash at his place for a few days before moving on to New Zealand.

We met Daniel at the Great Sandy National Park just north of Brisbane. He is a young 50-something New Zealander who had recently retired from his own successful multimillion-dollar home construction company. Daniel was in the camp site next to us and we enjoyed his company very much. As a self-taught musician, he and the boys exchanged tips on playing instruments and had a few jam sessions under the stars.

And then there is Kristi. Thanks to her, the Morgan and Zach were able to volunteer at the Australia Zoo. They worked with her at Gatorland before she relocated to Australia more than three years ago. She made sure they had a great experience during their three weeks at Australia Zoo and let them stay at her apartment.

On our way to Sydney we stopped in Brisbane to visit Mark, an Aussie that I met only once while he was in Orlando on vacation. We stayed in contact during our entire trip and agreed to meet in Brisbane if time permitted. It was only for a couple of hours and he gave us a great (albeit brief) city tour.

As agreed, we stayed with Paul at his apartment in Manly, a beautiful upscale suburb just across the harbor from Sydney. He was the consummate host and even prepared a hearty vegetable soup that we enjoyed upon arrival. Paul gave us a tour of Manly the day we arrived and took us to Sydney via the ferry for a day of sight seeing. He also invited us to join him at his weekly community choir practice where we met his fellow singers and even joined in a few songs. Our poor singing ability did not cause them to kick us out, which speaks volumes about their kindness and patients.

While in Fiji we met Va, Sissi and Small Va (Va’s niece) who treated us like family. They prepared delicious meals for us and provided great information about the area. For more about them read “Fijian Hospitality” and “That’s what our journey has been all about.”.

There are many more people we met along the way who made our travels memorable - the motorcycle drivers who transported us between Cambodia and Vietnam being among them. Whether providing directions or recommending a place to say, as fellow world citizens we all have something in common. We want to be treated with courtesy and respect. Most of the time, those two qualities coupled with a smile is the universal language that will get you anywhere you want to go.

What does a Fijian cow, pig, dog, chicken, and horse have in common?

Sun, 4 Oct 2009 16:19:27 -0400

We spent two days at a hotel before leaving for the house we rented, which was approximately two hours east Nadi. The rental car I originally had reserved was too small for all of our gear, three surf boards plus five people. As a result, we checked with other companies in the airport to determine what options were available. Europa car rental had a van that we thought would be perfect. That’s what we get for thinking.

The boys had been waiting at the hotel for more than an hour so we quickly got in the van and left without taking a good look inside. As we drove off, Catrell and I realized we had a problem. It smelled like a smoldering carton of wet cigarettes and it was the filthiest vehicle I had ever driven, and that was including our own. At the same time I also realized the gas tank was only ¾ full instead of the full tank I was told it had. In addition, the rear side window would not go down, the windshield wipers were completely worn out, the back seats were broken and had cigarette burns. Later I learned the headlights were so cloudy it was nearly impossible to see the road at night.

By the time we reached the hotel I had decided to take it back and get a less smelly, cleaner version or negotiate a better rate. After packing the van we returned to the airport to find a bomb threat had been called in and no one was allowed in the terminal area. When I am on a mission of justice, not even the threat of a bomb scare will hinder my resolve.

I marched into the Europa office and made it clear I was less than satisfied with his vehicle. I told him I either wanted a substantial cost reduction or another van. The cost was $120 Fijian dollars per day or about $60 USD. He asked how much I thought it was worth and I told him $60 FD and he countered with $90 FD or approximately $45 USD, which I accepted. The only other option was to wait an hour or more for another van. An even greater deterrent was that we would have to unpack and repack or gear - once was more than enough. By then we just wanted to get on the road and I considered my mission of justice reasonably successful.

Needless to say, we have experienced the worst of the worst roads, and Fiji’s roads only added to the our collection of experiences. The potholes were among the deepest and widest in the world. Even the speed bumps had potholes! It acted as a double deterrent to going too fast, albeit highly redundant and unnecessary.

Except for an occasional passing lane, no road in Fiji is more than two lanes wide. Cars, trucks, vans, local and charter buses share the road equally. Too bad many of them did not get the memo that they were to share at least half the road with the other half.

The road that lead to our rental home was on a very rocky, bumpy, hilly dirt-road. It was nearly a mile off the main road and our junky rattletrap was perfect for the job. We agreed that it was the right vehicle for the job, as I would have felt guilty driving a new van on such a rock-and-roll road. Fortunately, there were no other homes along the road so we did not have to share the one lane with anyone else.

And now for the answer to the riddle - What does a Fijian cow, pig, dog, chicken and horse have in common? They are all standing along the road, in the road or crossing the road at will. Dogs and chickens were normal, but small herds of bovine caused serious moooving road hazards. Equine and pigs of all sizes thought they owned the road as well and traffic would have to stop or slow down to accommodate their wanderings.

Our greatest challenge being back in the States is learning to drive on the right (literally and figuratively) side of the road. The thousands of miles we drove in Southern Africa, Australia, New Zealand and Fiji programmed us drive on the left side with the stick shift, and lights and wiper controls on the opposite side as well. So if you see someone driving on the wrong of the road just blow your horn. We’ll appreciate the reminder and the friendly hello.

Universal constants - Part 2

Fri, 25 Sep 2009 03:07:48 -0400

I have always been intrigued by a tradition I thought was unique in the U.S. - placing roadside memorials at a location where a person or persons met an untimely death in an auto-related accident. Every time I see one, I am reminded of the life or lives lost and all of those affected. In many cases, the only recognition of their existence are the memorials erected as evidence of their time on earth. And sadly in most cases they will only be remembered one or two generations after their passing.

In Florida, I have seen many elaborate memorials using simple white crosses as the focal point. A variety of mementos including teddy bears, flowers, pictures, handwritten notes and inscriptions helped to personalize them. Eventually, most are replaced by a post with an eight inch round cream-colored disk at the top stating the person’s name and the day they died. Although the replacement is done to better manage road maintenance, I am sure those left behind believe it is a very impersonal connection to the person they loved.

Our journey has taught me there are few things unique to any one place. We saw some form of roadside memorial in virtually every country, and a simple white cross was used each time. Many looked unkept and forgotten while others had fresh flowers laid at the base.

One of the photos was taken on the way to the Australia Zoo and the other approximately 45-minutes from where we stayed in Fiji. Besides being a universal constant in it’s own right, the memorials have something else in common - they were preventable. Regardless of the cause, the difference between life or death was separated by only seconds.

To relatives and friends, the memorials are a tangible connection to the loved one that left this world too soon. So perhaps rather than being called memorials, they should be called tributes to life. Because it is the life that is being acknowledged, not their passing. And that is another universal constant regardless of the person, language spoken or place they lived.

Universal constants - Part 1

Thu, 24 Sep 2009 03:30:09 -0400

Except for a brief visit home over Christmas and New Year’s, we have been on the road since August 25, 2008. The first leg was through Central and South America for nearly four months. The second stint began on March 1 and will end on September 26, 2009. By then we will have journeyed through Southern Africa, South East Asia, Australia, New Zealand and Fiji. It’s been an exciting and wondrous experience for all five of us and we don’t want to see it end.

During our odyssey, it’s been interesting to see the commonality between the countries and their peoples. From speed bumps to high speed internet there were so many universal constants that it was difficult to remember them all. Before starting our around the world odyssey we theorized that people and most places had far more in common than not. We can now say with certainty that it is no longer theory but fact.

After visiting 22 countries, we discovered the global recession was felt by nearly everyone - some more than others. Lower housing values, fluctuating currency rates and fewer tourists were universal constants. Not surprisingly, countries more akin economically to our own such as Australia experienced significant economic problems, while developing countries like Nicaragua and Vietnam seemed less affected.

Before leaving, we thought it was necessary to load up on toiletries and other personal essentials because we would not find them as easily on the road. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Everything available in the States can be found even in the remotest locations. Perhaps not in the same variety or quantity but available nonetheless.

Colgate Toothpaste, Ritz Crackers, Frosted Flakes, M&Ms, Snickers, Pringles, Lays Potato Chips, Oreos and many other products were readily available in all the countries we visited. Many of the multinational giants like Nestle, Nabisco and Proctor & Gamble either had their own manufacturing facilities in the country/region or licensed the manufacturing of specific products to local companies.

A few more universal constants include Huggies disposable diapers (or nappies as they are called in South Africa, Australia and New Zealand), all major brands of personal care products from Gillette razor blades to Arrid deodorant, snack and breakfast foods of every type, and soda (Coke mostly and Pepsi sometimes, which even tasted different from country to country). Prices varied wildly for all the various products from place to place and store to store.

Whether we were in a small village in Guatemala or Fiji, the chicken on the box of Kellogg's Cornflakes was staring at us from every grocery store shelf. There were plenty of local brands that were as good or better than what we have back home. For example, the best muesli (a healthy breakfast cereal) was in Australia and the tastiest Coke from Mexico (it’s manufactured with cane sugar rather than high fructose corn syrup).

On the fast food front, McDonalds and Pizza Hut could be found in nearly every country. But the hands down winner for “Most Prolific Fast Food Restaurant” goes to KFC (aka Kentucky Fried Chicken). In some countries such as South Africa there was not just one, but two or three in a small to medium size town. The Colonel really gets around!

There is another universal constant that we have seen in every country. It’s one not many people think about unless driving or riding in a vehicle, and even then it’s a fleeting thought when passing by. Read Part 2 of Universal Constants to learn what it is.