Michael Charalambous

As I sit here atop this longboat watching the Malaysian-Indonesian men unwrap random parcels of cargo to drop off at small barely-villages along the way to our destination… I can’t help but think, man I am lucky.

This is a sight only few people in the world will ever get to see, really though. Traveling up the Pejang river through the heart of the Bornean Jungle to get from A to B; because here, of course, there are no roads, no maps and no signs.

kokl.lphoi9i9u8uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuukl.. – ok, so this was genuinely my reaction to being bitten by a spider-sized red-ant, and cracking my laptop screen. Fucker got me. And my screen.

Even now, just minutes into writing we seem to have pulled up to what appears to be a remote village. Here they have dropped off different kinds of fruit, clothing and some poorly kept chickens in boxes with holes for the heads to poke out. As you can see from the shot below, they are very excited to see the boat, and I think, me and my blonde compatriot… read more…

It’s hard saying goodbye. Or even cya later as a friend recently corrected me on. Whether you’re talking to an expiring relative or taking an extended leave from friends – it’s never easy to say goodbye to those you love and care for.

For me, this has never been truer than it has this past year. So let me bring you up to speed with one of the downsides of traveling – the all important, goodbye.

I remember road tripping through the USA with my buddy Dave in 2012. It was my first substantial period away from anyone really, nearly two months with just each other. We realised after just a week or so that it was sadder than we expected leaving our new friends. In every city we went to we’d make friends, some closer than others – and every 1st, 2nd or 3rd day we’d have to say goodbye to them; as we never stayed in one place more than a few days.

Until October 2014 when I parted with England, that road trip was the worst goodbyes I had experienced. Which brings us to October, when finally, it was time to say goodbye to the people I love the most. The ones who have helped grow and nurture me to the person I have become. The ones who have supported me, taught me and kept me afloat when my head was going under.

That’s not easy, let me tell you. From my brother, to my best friends at Luke’s wedding – which was especially difficult for me. Watching someone you care about share the happiest day of his life, with the happiest girl in the world was truly an honour. And, knowing that was going to be the last time you saw them all together made for a truly ambivalent experience. Equal parts happy-sad… read more…

After the overwhelming response I got to my car crash story a while back, I’ve been meaning to write about another intense situation I found myself in; and only now have gotten around to writing it.

This happened about three weeks after the crash too, it was just another in a series of rather unfortunate events.

This was an incredible journey. I’d finished up in Vegas and decided I’d head to Jamaica for a week before returning home, I mean… its $200 to get to Jamaica how can I pass that up? For us Brits it’s closer to $1,300 for your average ticket to Jamaica so I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

Anyway, a drunken mess I arrived at the airport at 6am straight from my last night out in Vegas; nearly missing my flight due to falling asleep at the gates I wake up to the sound of the final call – “Mr Chaarrraaa…laaaammm…booo? Do we have a Mr Michael?”

Looking around, I was amazed at two things: the first being that I was the only person in sight and the second that the lady couldn’t come and ask if I was Michael? I was the only one there! Anyway, I wake up and board my flight sleeping all the way through to Jamaica – ace, recovered.

Arriving in Montego Bay

Upon arrival I was feeling really good about exploring a new place, experiencing a new culture, and let’s be honest… sharing a joint with some locals. There’s nothing I love more than trying to fit in with the local culture, you have to be willing to step out of your comfort zone and appreciate what others have to offer; sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse, but always for the lessons to be learned.

Feeling rather overwhelmed by the forceful nature of the cab drivers. I ended up sharing a cab with this young lady who’s hostel was very close to mine, minutes apart. We both felt a little safer and agreed it made sense financially too. Although, pretty sure it still only cost about $4 for a 25 minute cab ride, winning.

Upon arrival I was greeted by the biggest of grins you could imagine. You know, we’re talking a big black round face with florescent white teeth. And this was a big boy too, bear-like almost. He stood tall over me like a tree and yelled unnecessarily loud considering how close I was – “Weellllcommee to Montego Baaaayyyyyy. Ya’ gonna lov’ Jamaica!”

I digress. He shows me to my room, introduced me to some of the other *ahemm* hippies, and offers me a few words of local advice; where to get cabs, water, local stores etc. The fact I’ve not arrived at the actual topic of this story yet shows how much I have to tell. In the interest of not boring you, here’s a listed round-up of the events leading up to my story… read more…