The Slow Road

Four countries in two days..

2007-03-13T13:41:00.000Z

Have had a rather strange couple of days..Started out in Denmark on Sunday night jumping in a truck destined for somewhere in Germany..I had absolutley no concerns that by morning I would be in Belgium..hmmm..things dont quite work out how you plan sometimes..

Firstly I woke yesterday morning .. in a truck. Havnt done that before, and you can imagine it took me a few moments to realise where I was and when I had that figured the question then beckoned was - why I was ... where I was.

Another few hours down the road..which I might add was basking in a beautiful cloudless spring sky..(Ihavtn been in a car, on a road, in the sun for many many many moons..and my eyes hurt)..I was dropped out of the truck, and the only thing I knew was that I had to head to the right. No compass, so mere personal navigation based on prior teaching of which side of my body was which, was all I had.

I was in germany for the first time..near.. a town called Essen, in what is the most bizarre collection of small communities, too proud of their own small population to admit that this was one mega city made up of the cram of todays modern societies..and I was heading right. when I turned to the left things got more fun.

Two hours down the road I had arrived .... somewhere. At least it had a train station. so time to head for that elusive place - Belgium. I got a train, made the call and arranged to be picked up on the other side of the ferry after a bus from Sittard, my train stop.

Well, I didn't get picked up because I wasn't there. A two hour train ride with four changes turned into a five hour mission. Germany's trains are a bit sad to say the least. After the first hours delay, I was sitting on the platform amongst the second hour delay when I realised, for the first time in my travels that I did not know which country I was in. I arrived on a German train but was sitting looking at a Holland train. Had my German train entered Holland or this Holland train entered Germany.

This curiosity was too great, I was lost in the nether-regions of the Nederland(s) - (or was it Deutchland(s) ). I had to ask someone the strangest question they would have ever heard.

At this particular time I was reserved to finding a nice corner to spend the night as my ride was well and truly missed, and I was in a state of tranquility with little concern as to where and what I was doing. I picked a person - and of course they cackled their little way through telling me I was in the land of the Orange Tulip.

Turns out I could not have asked a better person, for upon further conversing, he was a student in Maastricht and offered a couch and a meal. So now I am fed, well slept and on my accross the border .. again. Four countries in two days, weird.

tim out

2007-03-01T13:36:00.000Z

one more thing...

the sun is shining on Denmark!!!

Andreas Åbling Petersen

2007-02-21T15:13:00.000Z

....... Let me introduce you to Andreas Åbling Petersen . . .

The first time I spoke to him he said, "I have a friend in Australia, Peter Kidman, maybe you know him?". This is often said, but with Andreas there was a glimmer of hope in his voice, he was serious. I got an idea as to who he would be.

His favourite motto is "If you dont have what you need, then use what you have." I saw this put into practice when we attached what looked like a mid to late 13th century trailer, to his original 1954 tractor and literally, took it for a walk.
It must have sat in the one place since shortly after production 700+ years ago, until now, for both tyres had a hard, flat edge and looked quite comfortable where they were. Giving me a good idea as to how hard it must have been before the wheel was invented.
This tonne of steel and rotten wood ... bounced ... down the track (which was lined 20ft high of what some people would consider junk, (but to him it may be useful one day) rocking the tractor from side to side with him inside.
I was following in a van with Paul, a good friend of his that spoke no english, but luckily for us there was no time for any conversation as the image in front of us was keeping us in a fit of laughter, tears welling both for the sight in front and the lack of videoa camera.
When the wheels finally locked up, it dragged, gouging great canyons into the muddy Danish path under the load. The trailor had prior issues with the corner it seemed, for it wouldn't co-operate at all, which is when he got out of his shell of a rusting machine and said... "we'll just leave it here". And that we did.

Yesterday, I got to watch him juggle four languages with an ignorant Aussie who speaks scattered (or more realistically) next to zero languages and should work on his English (apparently), two Germans and one from Latvia, and Andreas bursting into a stream of roarkess laughter, when he catches me laughing away, catching him speaking German to me, Danish to the Latvian or Latvian or English to the German, or a mix of all four. Then finish it off with his Latvian phraze - "Loti Vienkarsi (it's very simple), but I am tired... I Æ Å..."

We were standing on the waters edge of Denmark when I mentioned the setting sun over the ocean..without a break of contemplation this 68.146 year young man returned, "I've often though of digging an ocean on my farm".

He calls himself an Organic Peasant.

Host and founder of an annual art-symposium on his farm; for painters, wood carvers or just anyone who wants to be a part of igniting the spark of a place full of such tremendous energy, he welcomes all.

There are too many stories and classic scenarios each day to list from this man who has spent 30 years building a stone wall around his house and has planned to rob the local bank at Bredebro, this is the first time, but I have to continue to write them down.

A real activist for what he believes from way back, he was booted from the Danish Liberal Party, founded the Free Farmers Union and an annual human aid program to Latvia.

He is a star shining so brightly its no wonder he is a member of the Danish Blind Society, a soul screaming so loudly its also no wonder you have to scream back for him to hear.

And discovering only two years ago that a long time friend is actually his daughter has just made this gem even more delirious with love!

A True Legend!

Andreas Åbling Petersen

If any of you pass through the South - West Region of Jylland, Ol' Vikingville, drop him a line and I am sure he will welcome you if you welcome him into your day.

Christiania - a shattered dream

2007-02-01T06:51:00.000Z

I do miss my little hut in the woods of Sweden..

I left with the image in my head of a free hippe commune inthe centre of Copenhagen. )as was described to me by Dina, and lovely Finish visitor). Upon hearing about it, I immediately decided to papck my bags and head on down, looking for work for food and bed, but more to meet and mingle with some like´minded people in life.

I walked the hour or so from the train station, not stopping to look or emmerse myself in copenhagen in any way, as I didnt quite like the bustle after the sleepy sway of the forest. I did have a small gift though and found myself walking alongside a bunch of school kids on a stroll through the streets. 8 or 9 years old, full of life, laugfhter and positive energy, and well, I found comfort by their side.

But upon walking through the Gates of Christiania, first erected in '71 as a push against anything anti´social, and all I dound was a haven for drug pushers, fires in the street with some dodgy looking characters standing around and simply a very dark and dire place. I had told myself I would sit and wait and see what heppened, so I did. But the only response or approach I got was fgrom a friendly but hungry dog. One smile from what looked like one of tghe original members of such a place, but the rest was colourless and quite a cold emotion.

It seemed to be the place that now has become a simple backdoor hangout of those looking for a bit of loitering. A touch dissapointing considering the dream i had in mind od a wonderfully colourful atmosphere of freedom.

So I dragged myself sourly to the YHA and handed over a large percentage of what I have left for a bed and then learned that Christiania the 'commune' was raided and shut down by the fearful politicians.

So now where..??

tim out but not down..

2007-01-30T11:34:00.000Z

My time in the Swedish self created retreat has come to an end..

a beautiful time watching the snow gather and fade away returning to the rain.and now the many tones of brown have been re-born..along with a lovely layer of ice where the snow was compressed by walkers..the confidence and grace of the stroll has left, now I am negotiating this new surface..arms flayling(??) in the air like I just dont care..aah, but I do you see I like my arse the shape it is and the hard flat and ice cold surface may just put it well out of its rounded beauty..just like the wind changed the old ladies face..I dont wish to find out if the ice will do the same to my cheek..left or right (very big !! ). just like I dont want to find out if the electric fence is live or not..

I said to myself that I would sit and await the full moon, watch the full cycle from this wooded area and it is upon me tomorrow night I believe.

My wood has depleted. I must abandon ship.

To where? I have heard through the random meetings of visitors to my little abode that there is a commune right in the centre of Copenhagen, a *free town* which began in the hippie age and is now open to all. I shall head there, with the full moon above, and sit and wait.

Sweden was amazing! I will leave the day of the full moon, for I know if I see it, I will be here for its three day phase and I must depart..

Be Happy

tim out

a thought..

2007-01-25T11:36:00.000Z

This constant talk of past, present and future is more practical and obvious than I understood earlier.

On an intellectual level, I always realised that there was no reality aside from the present moment, but thee is a much deeper philosophy behind it than a mere intellectual understanding of time. And it is so practical, possibly the most practical understanding of self and surrounds one could have.

I have always spoken, to myself and to others about not living within the illusion. But I never had an understanding about what the illusion really was. Continually asking myself "what is the matrix?" I would put in down to breaking free from societys' grasp, free from the control of money and power and free from a need to social stature. The illusion is all of these but there is something vibrating so much deeper at the base of it all, and so much more obvious.

Everybody should regularily give themselves time to really contemplate what is real for them, what is truth.

In my contemplation and readings and meditation over the past year, there was one thing continuing to echo. And it wasn't until very recently that my mind and awareness clicked and made sense of it all. The realisation came about reading about Death. And it all became to clear.

Death is the key to truly living in the present. And The illusion is that of Permanence.

As much as people will say that they live for the present and in the present, without a real solid and true understading and acceptance of Death, it is quite impossible to do so. As much as you try to live in the present, your mind will constantly have the draw back to the future..."retirement, career, holiday, clothes, money...when will he stop rambling so I can get another beer?" all elements of the future.

The statement, "I may get hit by a bus tomorrow" is often used but is rarely understood. You may! And until you truly accept that you may, you will continue to have your mind secured firmly in the future. Or in the past, but both are fictional.

Milarepa spoke about a "deathless nature of mind". And until that is lived there will be no present moment. And we all will continue to live within the illusion of Permanence. I am not saying that I have a deathless nature of mind, but I now understand that route that needs to be taken to develop such a thing. Which everyone should give themselves the opportunity to do so.

Impermanence must be experienced.

tim out

What I was waiting for!!

2007-01-23T12:04:00.000Z

Day 11 in Söderäsens brought a wonderful sky full of fluttering little friends all trying desperately to get to the ground to play their part in carpeting this many tones of brown forest with a single tone of wishful white..

For hours and hours it snowed. Winter is upon us in Sweden. Thew temperature dropped dramatically over night. The windows frozen, the door stiff. and the forest is now changed into itsd angelic winter state!

Every now and then, as you walk through the thick white, you can spot little patches of brown where my little birds from last weeks have come and pulled together thweir forces to up turn the snow in search of the daily meals. Where they havn't upturned the snow they have groomed it for a more comfortable stroll for the two legged upright visitors.

I can say quite confidently now that it is here to stay.

The one other thing I was waiting for in Sweden after 12 or 13 days was the moon, and on the same eve as the snow it also shone its graceful silver sliver dance in the sky, illuminated by the distant and powerful ball of flame we all so desperately depend upon.

I'll keep saying it until I am told to leave (and even then, but with a clenched fist toward the evictors - no..not really, I'll smile at them with pleasure for the time I have had - and maybe apologise for the now dwindling wood supply, but it is there for winter right? this is very much winter).....---where was I?

---This is a Beautiful Place!!!

for now

tim out

A little gift for a man in solitude..

2007-01-23T11:51:00.000Z

Saturday, day no.8 or 9 or something...Söderäsens National Park..

as many days without a sighting of another person amongst the trees I had emersed myself into. I was seated at my fire after a quick trip into tn for some supplies, just getting settled into my routine of relaxation in front of my fire when I heard a sound at the front door of this little hut. Immediately I feared the worst and my heart jumped into my throat, forestry commission..they've found me!!?? I'll be evicted for sure (for I am basically squatting in this little place with the open fire)
I listened as the footsteps took the same route I had the first time I came through the front. Around to the right, through the orm room of ply sheet wooden beds, into the kitchen and of course the push came at the door to my leftand through it came a flock of song birds in disguise as a bunch of theatre, film and graphic students from a nearby town.

The first was along haired, moustached cowboy as surprised at seeing me as I was at seeing him, the rest merged and peered over his shlder until the doorway was full of faces looking into the room I had so purposefully made my temporary home.

Foam matress folded in three, supported at the back by three chairs to make a comfortable back rest, food all over one table, paper all the rest and my books and the like spread around me. It would have been a sight I would imagine, bearded looking 'bushman' (they later donned me) sitting in his striped thermal underwear crowded with his essentials..

I was later informed that the evening ended at about 5am, with many hours spent gathering around a raging fire, laughs, food, song and beer to keep the night from dwindling..

A wonderful gift for a man in solitude..

The only downfall was the first hangover I had had in many a week..oooh, it was bad..

but well worth it!

Thankyou to you all if you ever read this..(and I still only knowthree of their names)

tim out

How do I end up in these places??

2007-01-23T11:26:00.000Z

with much gratitude!

My second day in this wall-ed hut in the company of my fallen and flourishing friends of this deciduous forest, I had a moment of doubt as to whether this is where I am meant to be right now. With the fire going, I sat unable to read, unable to relax and enjoy peace, forgetting the unpredictable steps that brought me to this place and the excitement I had the day before.

This in mind I gazed out the window to observe what I assumed at the time to be the wind blowing gales and carrying with it a multitude of autumn leaves that have layered the floor of this dense forest, but as I peered out the window closer, I could see no effects of the winds in the canopy of the bare trees, still though, the sky was full of a dense congregation of fast flying objects filling the overcast sky.

Closer observation revealed that the sight I was seeing was a mass migration of thousands of little finch like birds with their wings flapping at a rate of knots undetectable to the naked eye and then ceasing to let the little creature fall slightly before being caught once more of the urgency of the flap.

I stepped outside into the raging torrent of a river of life above and stood in awe of what I was witnessing, firstl with the knowledge that I was the only person observing such a sight, and secondly fering that they would spot me and dive with acute accuracy and with their little bombs splatter me in a see of white poo. (actually this never came to mind, but the sheer number of them could have fattened if they so desired) The surge continued for a solid fiften minutes, waves but still a constant flow, all seeking refuge among th forest floorwhere they sat in community and scrummaged for insects. Spreading the leaves in a dance of little gusts of wind. Thousands upon thousands of the converged and if I took a step closer a whole hord would leave the rou creating mini hurricanes and a thunderous sound.

And still the river flowed above.I was counting a thousand every 15 or so seconds. You could see frequent little battles above as they qsueezd their mass population in the small sky. Swooping. Ducking. Diving. Attack and Evade.

I was very grateful I had my moment of doubt at that time which allowed me to gaze ou the window!

be happy

tim out

5 nights...

2007-01-16T10:18:00.000Z

I once got a message from a friend of mine who was in the UK entitled - 5 nights in the life of Mark (but it was all in capitals, for he seems to have a phobia of the shift button, so as soon as a letter should be in caps, the rest of the whole message is also in caps..LOVE YA MARK!

anyhoo..this is five nights in the life of Tim.

After leaving Amsterdam, with a much better opinion of the place than the last time I was here, I jumped on an overnight bus up to Copenhagen (much to my confusion at one point, awaking on a ferry - which I wrote about briefly in my blog). Copenhagen, or Kopenhavn is a seriously expensive town, so got me little backside out of there right quick.

At the train station I was looking for a way up north to a wwoofing farm at the tip of Denmark, but with a sense of uncertainty about this destination, even while in the process of looking at ticket prices, I was open to suggestion. When I jumped on my email and saw contact details for a friend of a friend in Sweden I figured 'why not?'.

So two hours later I was in Sweden. How easy it is to travel between countries over here!

Sitting in Helsingborg after the ferry, I knew I couldn't go straight to this place, as I had only just dropped them a line, in the mean time...I sat.

I sat and waited, for what I did not know. I wanted to get to a camp site 10km south, but how? I continued to sit, for it is what I felt I should have been doing. My answer will come, which it did. within about half an hour, doubt started to set in about my sitting, until a bus drove by with Räa, my destination plastered on the front and #1 was my bus. There it was.

On the bus I met my first Swede, a man with a glint in his eye of happiness. Pure happiness for his job, his life and himself. He was the most encouraging bus driver with an enthused Hi Hi! to everyone who entered, not the 'hmmph' you would normally recieve in the big cities I know of. A good sign I felt. He was doubtful that I should be camping in winter, in Sweden, I wasn't. Until I found the campsite situated on a beautiful beach front on the west coast, with a fresh northerly wind blowing and closed. Why? I thought, wouldn't anyone want to enjoy this? That night was spent in a deluxe hostel with two guests - I was beginning to get the idea that there is no tourist industry in January in Sweden. What a sleep! With the double bed all myself, I opted for the floor - my back cant take beds anymore..

The next day dawned and I had no idea where I was meant to be going. So I searched for the nearest place to pitch my tent. Söradesäns National Park sprang to my attention.

At 4pm, light dwindling, I stood at the entrance, a train and a bus later, no longer with my rucksack, as I traded it for a duffle bag to throw an different element into the way I would travel, I looked at the many tones of light brown which would slowly become one tone of black in front of me and started walking.

About half an hour in figured anywhere which si flat, everywhere was wet. I spotted my site - across the other side of the three brach river at my side. With no time I had to find a place to cross. Two bags, three crossings, which would equate to nine little dips. Shoes off, in. and wow! A river crossing up to my waist - January - Sweden. With my tent pitched and my legs thawed I realxed and meditated.

Two nights spent pitched here I was meandering through the lush forests, greenery abundant on the mossy rocks and the autumn browen not yet left, and I stumbled across a warm candle glowing in the dense wet world. A hut in the middle of nowhere with a sign translated into english saying 'Stay for free, keep it clean'.

I am writing this - transcribing from my notebook - sitting in front of a strong but small fire, by candlelight, in my own lodging - shadows dancing on the walls surrounded by nothing but the welcoming sway and roar of the wind through the neighbouring trees, with the knowledge that I can stay here through the whole winter until my time to return to Belgium on the 10th March arrives.

So I shall .... await the snow and enjoy the peace, for I know that no-one else will arrive to share this little golden ray of sunshine with me. But if someone does, I will welcome them as much as I felt welcomed.

A shop is two hours walk away, food is not a problem. You can live for a long time on soup, bread, lemon water and my little combustable cooker. And the Bibliotek, which I am seated now, amongst the company of many primary school kids who are continually coming and asking me what I am doing, with the only reply I can give them being a smile and hand signals, they stand there staring as confused as me. There seems to be no issue of age difference in communication when neither of you speak the same language, good times!

So back to my little paradise and I will write again at some stage..

Be Happy

Much Metta

tim out

2007 and beyond!

2007-01-11T14:09:00.000Z

Welcome people to the brand new year!!

Trusting you all saw it in, in style!

My welcome was spent in the surrounds of the magnificently energised Dhamma centre in Belgium. A beautiful way to being in the new year! Meditating amongst the like minded in silence..

The manic flip through and out of Scotland was, as expected, manic..but all in all, perfectly executed! I spent christmas day in such a small little village in the western region, outside Gent, in a cosy wee pub, as this was the only place open - even the accomodation I had sought had shut down for the festivities, so the pub was the only option and once again I spent time in a lovely family atmosphere of the local, just down the road - you know the one, conversing by a means of hand signals, pen to paper, music and the ever trusting eyebrows..

Then onto Vipassanar after a few nights in my tent with the only visitors being the police thinking I was a gypsy - which upon reflection, I am.. Vipassanar - absolute magic. To try and put words to the 10 days there would be demeaning to the experience.

And once again, timing was perfect, as I then was off to Amsteradm to stay in a 1920s converted cargo ship-house boat in the Amsterdam harbour with Peter Den Dekker - classicly Dutch, Chi Kung teacher, accupuncturist. Time to be treasured, really, thankyou Peter! Much luck to you my friend, you're quite inspiring!

Im in Denmark now, on my way to a real winter in sweden. Caught a bus, as was dramtically cheap and I was too lazy to stick out the thumb. Was a touch confusing when at 3am we pulled in to what I thought was a pit stop for some food. Off the bus was with a 5 minute timelimit, or so I thought. I scaled the staircase to find myself in a bussling shopping centre. The disconcerting thing was to be the lack of ability to walk in a straight line. I hadnt has enought to drink to be in this state for weeks, but put it dopwn to waking up in the bus in an inverted yogi poisition, vertical, legs on the window. Got me a drink, ran down the stairs to resume the ride only to find the bus in some sort of loading bay surrounded by trucks, all locked up. It was then that I realised that I was on a ferry..muchos confusion for a momento..but it did explain the swaying..when I disembarked in Copenhagen at 6am, pitch black, my newly bought - cheap as deluxe french fries dripping in cheese curd and gravy, literally, its a piece of .... - mp3 player pulled out dee dum dee dum dum - " I'm on the road again!!"

Kopenhavn. Lots of rain. Time to leave now.

Metta to all my dear friends!

tim out..

slow road?

2006-12-20T17:30:00.000Z

a touch of an understatement..

This site has been somewhat re-vamped. Changes are subtle in design, but large in concept. To anyone who may be reading this now, it is more of a personal diary for the whole world to read- if they so desire..

My last week in the UK has been manic to say the least - and it is only half way done. Visiting a few dear friends before I run was the goal and it has taken its toll.
Saturday night was in the midst of a mass party at Leckmelm..
thankyou Lucy for all your kindness and beauty, I'll look out for you in the next Cosmo.. ;)
James you are an inspiring fella for whom I will be forever grateful to for introducing me to the wonder of the stone..
Alex..it may have been alcohol induced, but I meant it..come to Denmark..
Then back to Skye..
Joel, Dede, Daisy and of course Binks and Poo!! you wonderfully beautiful people (and dogs)! I love you all and will miss you dearly. Food will never be at the same pace again..
Jamie, I tried man! you work too hard, have a break. will see you in April.

today I hitched back to glasgow from skye, then onto Edinburgh tomorrow and to Belgium on Saturday..have you ever felt that hitching is much like speed dating? in the rides in between the rest you have mere moments to get the to know the person you share this time with. Its always a touch exciting wondering who it will be who will pick you up. And when they turn out to have as much to say as you, it turns into a gabble of turkeys all scrapping for the same pile of grain. And oh how much fun it is.

but today was magnificent. The first three rides came without mr being able to put my bag down from the last ride. Instant pick up and I made it the distance in less time than it would have taken to get to the airport, go through customs, drink as much as possible and babble your way through passport check of the next airport. And so much more fun!

till soon comes about..

tim out

Back to Carsaig

2006-11-15T18:23:00.000Z

So, on Monday i will be returning to the beach where it all began.

Thge Isle of Mull, Carsaig Bay.

For the past couple of months I have been aquiring myself a few days here and there, predominantly there, working in various positions of general hand and labour. This coming Mondqay I have secured myself a spot helping restore a heritage listed castle on Mull. This particaular castle - Moy it is called, it one bay east of Carsaig at Lochbuie.

When I heard about this place, I immediately felt drawn toward it. Finish it where it all began I was saying. Moy Castle, then Carsaig.

Restore one construction made by man, then for the final time before it gets to dfamn cold, restore another made by......

I thankyou all who participated in this wee crusade..be it absolutely anything related..even a small passing thought or wonder..

Be well!!

tim out

After 160 Days...

2006-10-30T22:16:00.000Z

To the people out there who may read this..

After 180-odd Days and..can I remember?..13 or 14 beaches..15 odd miles of Scottish Coastline..and at least the same figure in tonnage of "flotsum and jetsum" removed, I can not longer bare the thought as to where all this rubbish is ending up.

I was sitting on the edge of my latest beach on the Isle of Skye munching on my packed lunch when I got to be holding an empty plastic bag in my hands. My instinctive thought was to add it to my bags of rubbish. My mind then tracked the path of this one, small, plastic bag. I followed it and the collections process from the beach, to the skip, on the truck, the miles on the road and to our acceptable and so called "responsible" waste disposal system, to finally end up in a landfill. Thats the solution. How does that make any sense? Bury it.

Let's disect that term "land" "fill". Digging a great big hole in the land and filling it with Rubbish and rubbish simply being a word to describe that which we no longer use, or want. Packaging - filling the majority of landfills today - is included in this. Madness. Why is it that the bag we buy our oats in can not be used again? Why do we consider our waste, worth wasting? a one use, disposable society is wasted. Not the actual items, it is ourselves.

If we were to create our own individual landfills in our backyards (literally - your homes) it would not be an acceptable solution, would it? Let's all go and dig a hole on our turf, land which we apparently 'own', land on which we live land on which we build our home, and fill it with rubbish. It is inconcievable really. So why not dig an even bigger hole, somehwere out of the way and fill it with everybodies rubbish, that way we dont have to deal with it and we can wipe our hands clean - literally - after taking out our bags. It is sorted. but it is not. It is wasted.

Everything and I mean everything included in the 15 tonnes removed from Scotland waters edge can be used again, and again, and again. I have said this before, I have made this rant. But still, after many months it makes no sense to me.

Our waste solution is pathetic, is it the best that an advanced society as ourselves can come up with.

It is a joke.

some tough cookies to crack...

2006-08-31T19:16:00.000+01:00

we didn't inherit the land from our parents....we are simply borrowing it from our children...
-Amish Saying

this was a two metre slab of what I could guess at being tar or solidified oil from a mass burn off on the beach, it took and hour to excavate and then the process went to a wee bit of demolition by wooden spike..

this springy rubber thing snaked under and above the ground for about 30 feet, was a right bitch, but was not defeated, it did not belong there, so I was determined...

and of course...the "bio-degradable" plastic bag..the only thing that will break down is my mind...its not going anywhere, just into a million little pieces to sit there for eternity....what a waste of resources to develop and to create a society so dependant on - plastic

your ego desires to be heard...
your self waits to be discovered.

2006-08-31T18:38:00.000+01:00

one by one
day by day

Steady perseverence alone will tame the mind.

This mission on the coasts of scotland has attracted a large amount of attention, yet the expected results have not seemed to eventuate.....yet.

Unless you are willing to take the risk, to have a go, to fail miserably, and have another go, success won't happen.

In the past weeks, I have felt drained and detached from the possibility of achieving this goal in the fundraiser. This has been due to the unexpected poitical and bureaucratical mess and the medias distraction from what is important and latching onto this story as a damn "peoples' tabloit scoop", and the never ending "flotsum and jetsum" that continually washes ashore.

But, In light of this, I will not give up. In fact I am more determined to push the fundraiser now than ever. It is a worthy cause. And it is possible, even inevetable if I care enough about the result.

"Nothing is created suddenly, any more than a bunch of grapes or a fig"
- Epictetus

2006-08-24T16:26:00.000+01:00

hello all,

this is just a quikie to say that my latest beach completion - The Gauldrons at Machrihanish #6..is complete. the beach is sparkling, the waves are definately crashing in and on this last day I sat in Scotlands sunshine on this dramatic coastline reading some 'Zen Words', 'Compelling Reason' and 'The Truth'

from here...there may be a slight break in communication as I will now be employed for a couple of weeks farming on the green pastures among the mighty power of the cattle (unbeknowenst to them)and the lack of individuality of the sheep (beknowenst to them). From there I shall head down to Eng-Land to reinlist myself on the grid by aquiring a piece of identification I have not had for many months and then I shall be in introspect among strangers at another meditation retreat. So, the beaches are put on hold as I take care of some admin and some time to centre myself after some manic months.

after 84 out of 103 (ish)nights in my tent, the last four with the inability to lie on my back, stomach and side - a inebriated slip into a semi large crevass amongst rocks took care of that - the next ..... some will be in the comforts of matress, maybe. I do like my little tent.

So unless I get shat on by a cow, charged by a sheep who has a moment of inspiration and revolution, fall of a roof (or another cliff), stuck in the mud, or any other mishap to chuckle about, I shall speak to you all later..

take care

tim in (for now)

The Gauldrons

2006-08-19T08:12:00.000+01:00

day 101 - tim in the gauldrons

see this picture...

this is my little combustable petroleum crazy cooker thingy..to start this nutter of a device up you fill the jet with less than a teaspoon (1/4oz) of fuel, light it to warm the ...thing on top...and then turn on the fuel line again..

take note of the plumes of thick black toxic shite pumping into our atmoshpere. If your car is guzzling what - a litre per 8-10km or more (or less), how long does it take to drive 8-10 km? hmmmm..I can justify using it for I dont drive a beast on wheels, never have, but sadly, may have to one day when I am back in OZ..and I need to eat..occassionally

this morning, I woke up in a new hovel..after the search for my truck cab failed, I had to lower myself to coiling mysself into a ball amongst a length of hose behind a door somewhere. This is after relishing the festivites of the local music festival..much fun until I got booted from two pubs - standard tim style if you didn't know..wasn't even drinking..first one was for rolling a cigarette inside - a crime it is - second one....not sure..maybe the fact I havn't washed my clothes in a month or so, apart from leaving them in the rain, there isn't much else I can do..or may have been the two crazy 18 year old french-english-french boys who I was with who had drunk themselves into oblivion in their mad tour of scotland, they are camped on my beach and are giving me a hand - nice one Barnaby and Tristan -you boys are alright..

The Gauldrons at Machrihanish is looking grand..in sections the stones are sparkling, but still ye trop de bordel sor ces plages!! I swear, well, I am sure there is a toy factory on the other side of the water, which in fact is northern Ireland..(branch) - a couple of days ago, I woke up and stretched my eyes to the horizon and saw the cliffs of N.I. glowing in the morning sunlight, it's only 11 miles away. - (back again) because the amount of little toy soldiers (plastic as they are, damn freaking plastic) plaguing these beautiful shores is astronomical..well, there are lots....and lots. say hello to my little indian friend saying to the 'man' "sink in the sand, green melted scum!! hahahaha!!" I may have gone a bit nuts in my solitude...hmmmmm i say....just hmmmmm...well, realitically, who wouldn't when you wake to the stupidity of the lambs who cant find their mum on the other side of my tent so they sit there and screaam BLAAAARGGAAREEERRGGGGG and get the reply of a deeper pitcvhed BLUUURRRGGHHZ.....CZCZ....WWQAD, some say its a "bleep", I beg to differ...they are the funniest things to sit and watch, panicing at the slightest of change in routine, routine that is purely focused around eating, peeing, shitting and screaming to eachother.

How is this for Scotland, sitting back roarin a meal together and along comes a dude in a 'modern day' english design kilt ( traditional kilts were not called kilts at all until the english outlawed them, along with Gailic, bagpipes and anything clan related punishable by death, then when the ban was lifted the design changed (was originally a 9 metre piece of cloth, with no tartan design wrapped around in a mass weight of practicality), the name changed - can't remember what it was called - and the english designed what you see today. a learned aussie I am, you won't hear this any Scot I dont think, they might be a bit sour about it, understandably...

short and sweet, rock and roll..

give thanks to the sun and go hug a tree, I have none on my beach and they like it..

(sunset at the Gauldrons)

tim out

Day 100

2006-08-18T00:01:00.000+01:00

Tim has now been wandering around Scotland, cleaning beaches, saving lambs, getting lost, learning to surf, and getting lost for 100 days.

8 tonnes off Altandhu

2006-08-14T14:24:00.000+01:00

and of the rubbish transfer from beach to roadside which has been picked up by council...

the nights are getting colder...

2006-08-14T14:19:00.000+01:00

and if you're stuck, or if you choose to stick yourself, in a town 8 miles from your tent as midnight passes by...a good place to lay your head is in the cab of an abandoned truck out the back of some random garage. You can't stretch out your legs, but your limbs wont be stiff due to the freeze, only due to the cramps...

my last few weeks have been excellent!!! after a successful clean up and pick up by the council, not without a bit of resistence, at Altandhu (see piccie below or above?? thanks to Juliet) I tested fate and sold all my camera gear, not for financial gain - just a little experiment, recieved support from Gordon at JIG, edinburgh - glasgow - back to edinburgh and then out to my new beach at Machrihanish, on the Mull of Kintyre, and now I am spending the morning with a bit of admin to do in Campbeltown - location of my cab bed.

Spent the weekend with a semi local surfer who loaned me a board and I tested myself in the swell of scotland. Aussie first time surfing in Scotland - I know - weird...we walked out over the rocks to take the leap into the surf. Not only have I never been on a surf board before, but I am entering the rough seas by jumping off a four foot (doesn't sound like much, but hey..)rock judging the leap with the rolling waves. We had sat and watched the tides and picked the perfect moment for the push of high tide, but as it turns out it wasn't the perfect moment to learn how to surf. I thrusted my arms through the water trying to catch up (with my lower regions starting to ache due to the cold and lack of wetsuit) and pass the breakers to sit and contemplate how easily I would stand on my first attempt. But...I didn't take into account the sneak set that came through. It was only three waves. But it was my last three for the day. The first looked like a tsunami from water level (turns out it was only about 6 foot) but it broke right on my face and threw me through the wightwash like a ragdoll. I recovered in a daze only to look up at the next raging down on me. I didn't bother reaching for the board and just went underneath and felt the pull as the leg rope kept the board from crashing into the rocks. This time I went for the board, got on top and went to go over the third sneaker. Higher and higher it tooke me and as I reached the summit it broke and sent me flying vertically backwards and once again struggled to find up amongst the white.

This was the end of my first day as I held my head in self pity.

The next I knew what I was getting myself into and got through the breakers successfully, to catch the only wave of the day. No standing for I felt "first wave, get a feel, kneel and next go for the feet". But the next never came.

Even though the first day I got slammed and the second flopped..I will take up the offer of a loan board while I am here and go in everyday. What a way to connect to the beach. My office, playground, bedroom and kitchen!! love it!!

piccies are of semi local Jamie and our fire - beachside - and of my camp overlooking my beach..once again with the little auto digi snappy shootie thingy from canon..hmmm, digital seems to be the way, never thought those words would come out of my mouth...

will be talking soon of new inspiration for the fundraiser -

till next time

tim out.

boredom brings loneliness...but solitude brings strength

intermission before beach no. 6

2006-08-07T08:12:00.000+01:00

Glasgow on a bright Monday morning in Summer with the clouds in the stratosphere in a glorious sight....and aside from the streams of cars drowning out the sounds of a waking city, the place is quite attractive.

Just spent a few days in edinburgh at the beginning of the fringe festival. got a ride down with a prawn lorry and arrived in the ol' town at about 2am. with pack on back I wondered - where to go, what to do?? so i figured the best option was to find myself a nice sheltered, comgfy hovel and get some rest. so, in complete contrast to that I found myself and open plan home and laid out my bed on some, well....mud is the best word. then I proceeded to lay and stare at the dark (yes!! scotland is getting dark now) star littereed sky (inconveniently blocked out by the lights of a pumping miniopolis) and spent the next 4 hours waiting for the rain to fall. which it didn't!! so my next day I wandered the streets to meet up with some dear friends in a state of dillusion.

then the festival kicked off!! luckily for a poor sod like me, I knew a few p[eople working for the ticketing/flyering of the stanbd ups. so free tickets were on the cards! above is a piccie from my new little auto digi shootie thingy from canon, kindly donated for documentary purposes, but you have to have a little fun with it dont you? this is the festival fever - remember, the cameras are always watching. not a bad result technically with only exp. compensation, backlit flash and a touch of mid exposure tilt...

picture this - a one man, one hour re-enactment of the Star Wars Trilogy. This guy was amazing! he did every voice, every sound effect, every damn language and ended up running around the stage in circles as he recreated each scene! what a crazy show, funny as .... . the next show was a kiwis indepth exploration of the geek in fashion. this was fairly amateurish, which made it even funnier. Edinburgh definately comes alive with th4e streets bursting at the seams with people, but it took me after a couple of days, and my arrival in glasgow was met with frustraion, impatience and severe case of anxst. So, the moment I get out of here the better. But my time here will be spent in communication with my new sponsors discussing ways in which we can formalise and professionalise my approach to the media and the polictical angle I am so damn terrible at. No one seems to listen when you simply chuck a hissy fit kicking and screaming with no real basis, dont know why?

anyhoo, be well everyone..and question everything, because its all crap and we've got it all wrong, not that I know what is right...

tim out

2006-07-31T08:22:00.000+01:00

just you wait to see the photo I'll post of how much came off this beach...it's quite a feat for this much crap to be ignored!! the scottish environmental protection agency (SEPA) dont seem to think its part of their environment for some bizarre reason...

Altandhu.....still

2006-07-29T11:46:00.000+01:00

well..

two weeks ago, I set myself a date to be finished on the beach here. that date was this coming monday. after just taking another stroll up my stones (as the last three or four days ahve been spent on the risen bank sorting, stripping and slahing the masses gathered entangled rope which was pulled out of the stones by tractor) and to my demise I now see no way it can be done on Monday. I've said it before, but I'll say it again . . . this beach is a mess and I can not bring myself to leave it in the state that it is. last saturday, a resident of altandhu, brian - who has bee a phenomenal help on the mission - and seasonal residents Billy & Barb, Grant and Nikki and girls all down for a day, and what an incredible difference a few more bodies makes!! These guys deserve to be commended for their efforts and are an inspiration not only to myself but to anyone who has seen the coasts in a state of dissaray. Well Done!!

To all the community of Altandhu, I put a huge thankyou to! Without the support - food, verbal and of course, drink ( I am feeling a little worse for wear though, excessive consumption some might say, I'll have a break for a few years now..)- it could not have been possible!!

Another one of those little moments of coincidence or chance has come about..a random unintroduced meeting of a couple on their honeymoon in the Am Fauran pub, has now brought about the offer support of sponsorship by an environmental consultancy private company called JIG. the details make me smile, but won't go into them, all i'll say is that now with their help, I will be able to continue the beaches through the dreary months of winter! marvellous..so the sponsorship came, exactly whe it was needed (my tent poles have snapped in three different places after an attempt to preserve them in gale force winds, i ended up doing the damage putting it back up again..)

so..aach..nae bother..i'll be off now and write some more when my stones are sparkling..

**and to Gayle, I have heard about the beach at Thurso, I'll be there, dont know when though. thanks for the donation!!

just giving

2006-07-21T13:54:00.000+01:00

Hello out there everyone!

well finally, the fundraiser can start properly now. I have an online website set up that can take donations. Just to remind anyone or to inform anyone, I want to sponsoe people onto environmental conservation programs, run by international conservation organisation, Frontier. I need about £25000 for that, but I am also raising funds for the Marine Conservation Societys' Coastal Challenge (www.mcsuk.org).

So dig deep and help out if you can.

www.justgiving.com/beachclean

there you can see me in my finest cleaning outfit, covered in tar holding up my crap collected from LochBroom.

If you follow this site at all, be aware that I may stand up and shout around every now and then about any issues that anoy me (damn plastic plague). And I am building up to a mass media statement. I feel I may have a platform soon, after 11 articles in Scotlands papers have been written about this Aussies mission to clean up the coast, and one radio interview. The Press & Journal here in north Scotland will be tracking my progress so I hear on the vine, so that will be my avenue in.

My donation website currently sits at £0, so ...... its a start i guess.

The Poly Plague . .

2006-07-15T03:18:00.000+01:00

"The leatherback turtle can keep itself warm in cold water, dive over 1000 meters below sea level, travel thousands of miles and gulp down a Portuguese man-of-war but is threatened by the inert plastic shopping bag" - Mrosovky, N. 1987

Plastics, like diamonds, are forever!

(conveniently plagiarised from ERF Campaign Against the Plastic Plague)

The Poly Plague:

What to do with the 6-8 tonnes being collected from the shore stones of Altandhu? 80% of which is recyclable plastics.

Landfill?

Incineration?

Which crime is less damaging? In terms of long term environmental conservation, leaving it on the beach is probably the best plan. Exposure will break it down faster than burying it and is much less harmful atmospherically than throwing a match to it all. But, it don't look too good, does it?

Why am I cleaning beaches?

The reason I camp in the gale of Scotlands coast, dragging load after load off the stones is so we can all enjoy the view. An increased level of appreciation publicly for our home is necessary for any real large scale action to begin. Something which is critically required.

In excess of 80 million tonnes (1 tonne being 120,000 plastic bags) of polymer are produced every year. Using 8% of the worlds' oil supply to do so, and according to 2001 Environment Agency report 80% was sent to landfill, 8% incinerated, and only 7% recycled.

It's all well and good to pick it all up, but we need to take responsibility. Recycling should have to be taken into account when forecasting plastic production costs.

It's 4am. My eyes are blurred. And I've spent the whole night looking at some hard hitting figures on the sham of a recycling system in place in the UK and worldwide.

Wake up everyone. We've slept in and are very damn late..

- Six times as much plastic per weight than zooplankton is in any given amount of sea water taken from the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

In Australia alone, my home, if every person averaged one plastic bottle per day, be it milk cartons, soft drink, whatever, there are close to 7 billion bottles going to landfill each year! (visy.com.au) Imagine that on a global scale.

Altandhu

2006-07-07T19:15:00.000+01:00

Day 58 - Altandhu

"Everything is coming into balance."

A settling statement recieved by my cerebral cortex moments ago.

For something to come into balance, there has to be a time of inbalance. A time at which we are now in. But if we live with an awareness that there is need for this learning curve and accept that the balancing will come, the double doors swing open to allow us to step beyond to a room beautifully lit.

The beach at Altandhu, near Achlitibuie, Ross-Shire, North West Scotland. A point where the tides tend to favour . . and for the past three to four decades they have been sending it gifts from the open waters. Duely recieved by the stones at high tide. Unfortunately, these "gifts" are the oceans' rejected offerings from us, feeling it was our responsibility to care for and not its'.

This beach will need about three to four weeks I feel. But that is of no bother. It is a spectacular spot, and deserves the attention.

I arrived here after beginning on Reiff Beach, 3 miles west(ish). But Reiff is now in the very capable hands of its' former carer and friend. So Altandhu it is. A place that deserves much credit for its' natural wonder, but at present it is in the shadow of the colourful display of polymer products smothering its stones.

for now..

Day..irrelevant - beach no.4 next

2006-06-26T13:08:00.000+01:00

Day 47 - Tim in Inverness

the universe acts in mysterious.....but if you look at from a different perspective, very obvious ways.

If you are travelling the right path, you will end up exactly where you are meant to be..what an exciting way to live when you have no idea where the next place will be, or where your next meal will come from. I know I will find food, I know I will be warm and dry, especially when I am hungry, hypothermic and dripping from the bone. But a lot of people don't.

Since leaving the Isle of Mull, I have now cleaned two other beaches; Kilchoan - Ardnamurchan, and a private beach on an organic farm in Ullapool. both on the west coast. But the journey between the two is where I sit back and smile.

I am now staying in a Tipi. Fully kitted out. my little temp-cone-home.

My intention was to get to The Isle of Skye (west coast) after Kilchoan, but instead I ended up in Fort William after Jims' words that there is a beach on the north east coast at Thurso covered in syringes. I took this is a good omen and thought to myself 'Time to 'don the gloves' . .

Every person you meet, every moment you open your eyes is a catalyst for further growth and direction.

Fort William to Inverness (east coast) after attempting to race aussie sibling combo Cara and Max (love ya guys!! thanks for being there when you were!) by thumb touring against their coach. Of course six hours later, tired legs and a stiff thumb...I came in dead last. I spent two nights in Inverness, enjoying the company and dancing to traditional scottish Caelidh, working for my bed and raiding the free food shelf at the hostel, before once more finding my spot to stand, thumb out-strecthed. Still with Thurso in mind.

Intentions and plans - forget them.

Within minutes, my ride arrived - heading back over to the west to Ullapool. not where I wanted to get to, but they have a beach there. So in I hopped. After much conversation on world water supplies and mountaineering, the question arose "where is the mess". Ullapool harbour is trashed, but the council won't set up a funded clean. Perfect target I felt. So I went straight to the community council contact Fergus Monroe and pitched my intention to clean his beach for free. An abrubt 'no' was the response. As it has to stay a mess for the council to do anything..ridiculous if you ask me. If someone offers, let them do it. At this point he gave me a number of someone who might be able to help me find a beach. So without hesitation, I picked up the phone and rang. Still wondering why I was in Ullapool. Lucy answered while driving, asked where I was before who I was, and ten minutes later I was in her car on our way back to her organic farm. another ten minutes and I was handed a bag of food, let into my two bedroom fully equipped cottage (45 out of about 50-odd nights in my tent, you can imagine the unfamiliar feeling of a house....all to myself), and told where my beach was. (the next day I looked in her Tipi, saw a stone circle for a fireplace and a rug for a bed and felt a little more comfortable, and moved in).

Lucy Beattie is the area contact and manager for "Beach Watch" in Scotland, a program run by the Marine Conservation Society (MCS), an organisation I had heard about and met with a few days earlier, who are very interested in the cleaning of the coastlands, the fundraiser and Frontier themselves.

Coincidence? You decide.

So now, her beach is clean, I am picking veges (probably should stick to my trash I think, I brought back weeds for our salad..), living in a Tipi, in direct contact with the people I should be, looking into Surfers Against Sewerage (SAS), and recovering from 'Rockness': a large festival/rave back at Inverness which overlooked a pristine sweeping valley of Lochness which was headed by FatBoy Slim.

After a general idea of going to the Isle of Skye...how I ended up here is far from a mystery, it is the way it is, for it is the way it is meant to be.

This sequence of events tells me that every decision that has been made in the evolution of this "great scottish stravaig" has been the right one.

Moving on to Reiffe beach a bit further north soon, will try to get to the outer hebridies..but realistically I have no idea...

There was an article in the Oban times, the local western scotland paper, about my clean of Carsaig, here is a small version as it will be too big otherwise - got your magnifying glass..??

tim out

Day...40? have no idea anymore..

2006-06-13T20:54:00.000+01:00

Day 35 - Tim in a Cave

Leaving Carsaig, I was full of adrenalin.
Staying in the one place for such a long time was such an alien thing for me at the moment. So packing up for the next destination, the energy was pumping through my veins. There was also a touch of sadness. Departing the place that provided absolute perfection, in possibly the most important two and a half weeks of my life.

My next night was spent in a damp, mossy, dripping cave on the way to Lochbuie, still on the Isle of Mull. Before taking the first step toward my new home my mind and heart were racing with new ideas and possible directions to take this adventure. Considering that it had developed and evolved so freely over the past five weeks or so, I was definately waking each day with a very open mind as to where I could take it...or more acurately, where it to take me.

The public response I got from the hundreds of people who saw the beach being cleaned and supported both the fundraiser and the beach, by supporting me, was incredible. Totally unexpected. So I took this as a positive omen when making the decision that the fundraiser from this point on will be purely focused around cleaning up the coastline of Scotland. Making this decision was difficult as I hold so dearly the life in the slow lane. Step by step. Gradually taking in each ridge and every stream. So the last seven miles before I stuck out my thumb were savoured. I get little to no response while I am on the road walking at three miles an hour picking up as much rubbish as I can carry, and not even making a dent on what is there. Cleaning a beach for a week or two makes a massive difference to peoples' mind-set who visit and witness the sands or stones beneath the synthetic asphixiation. So, getting from beach to beach as fast as possible is important. The more places I can clean, the larger the reaction will be. Resulting in more support for my fundraiser. Which equates to the most possible sponsorships supplied for the conservation courses that Frontier operate. Which is the main goal. Education in Environmental Conservation.

Back to the damp, mossy, dripping cave....

When I went to collect some firewood which wasn't soaked by the first rains sice I set up camp at Carsaig, my attention was drawn toward a white bundle of fur in amongst the rocky beach outlay. The attention of this little white ball of fur was also directed toward me. As it staggered to its' feet I realised why it reacted with delay and not with the normal sheep.."...panic!!!!! run!!!!!" It had obviously taken a fall and broken both its' front and back left legs. It had been there for quite some time, it was easy to tell by its' lack of motivation to scamper. I decided to leave it be for a time while I retreated to my cave (how neandertal does that sound?) to decide what to do with the lame lamb who was destined to starve to death on the barren beach.

An hour or so later I returned to find it twitching in its last moments of struggle. I apporached it without hesitation and sat down next to it. There was a moment of recignition of my presence but nothing more. I realised at that momnet that I was emotionless toward the act that society had taught me to perform in such a situation. I decided at that moment thatif I felt nothing, I was never going to do it. This was the third animal in two days that was in its last moments of life at an early stage of adolescence. (The last being a small bird who had deformed legs who had fallen on its first attempt to fly. I attempted to train the wee one to fly for a good hour or so before letting it be to its' parents who were watching curiously from a branch.)

So I gathered the wee lamb in my arms and took it into my cave where I found a small patch of ferns to place it under in comfort and silence away from the plume of smoke bellowing from my damp wood. The was no life fighting at all. It had given up. Until it sniffed the fern above. Upon it first small mouthful ground into the pulp digestable by the herbavore, it bounced up, well unbalanced by its' favoured, or more so 'only' able side.

I sat, rolled a cigarette and watched it come to life, even though it could not leave my cave it had found some determination to survive, and occassionally looked up to check on the figure who had brought it to this smokey hole in the wall. I fell asplepp with the midgie net over my face, sleeping bag tightly drawn with this image of hope and survival. My aim was to carry it the remainging three miles to Lochbuie and put it in the care of a farmer there. When I woke, the realisation that any farmer has removed the sympathy toward a lame "product" and would slaughter it for sure. So when I scaled the slippery high tide smashed rock face it had fallen down the next morning, lamb in hands, pack on back, my motivation was directed toward finding its' mother. I did not, but I did find some sheep, who took no real notice of ti in their company, but at least it can sit there amongst its' likeness, eat a plenty for the coming days and weeks until it was healthy enough to be a sheep and follow the masses.

The point of this elongated story of struggle is that when I was sitting sipping tea with a Tinkers collecting winkles, his response to me was .... "you found a lame lamb..throw the fucker in the sea!"

The 'Clearances' in Scotland took place about 200 yrs ago, when the English forced Scottish families from their multi-generational homes, took the land and morter and turned it into aheep farming land. And when the coats of sheep are collecting 10p per year, per sheep, they can't quite understand why they are still around.....

aside from the government subsidies for sheep and highland cow farmers. Not pig or normal cattle though... ???

tim out.

Day 34 - Clean up of Carsaig

2006-06-12T10:25:00.000+01:00

welcome back people!!

I have been out of contact for quite some time now....so this has been a long time coming.

Carsaig Beach was a lot more of a challenge than I thought it would be..the photo below does not show the beach but there was probably a reason for that. It was an absolutely layered from years and years of wash up!!

2 weeks later, I have had to call it a day here and move on. There is still so much more trash out there, but the next beach awaits me..This is the fundraiser now. The four sonsorship knockbacks I had while waiting in Edinburgh turned out to be a blessing in (how the hell to you spell disquise??). There is no way I would have had the freedom to let the adventure develop from just a simple, and well and truly over done, walk to raise funds for a cause, into a mass clean of Scotland. The beaches of the world are trashed. Fishing boats and other mariners offload so much crap and it all washes up somewhere. So I will head from beach to beach and probably wont leave the west coast. But one by one it will be.

This was my little paradise while I here. And the piles accumulated every day. I spent half the time sorting everything into recyclable and non, unknotting masses of rope and soaking up the sunshine of Scotland. If someone had said to me that it rains in Scotland after spending two weeks in hot basking rays, there is no way I would have believed them. What a gift. Pretty much all the rope I unknotted sold for the fundraiser. And all the plastic bottles will be collected by the council soon for recycling. and the non-recylables will inevitabley end up on a huge pile somewhere..damn us.

Plastic is a cancer that we have created on this planet, our home. Something has to be done urgently!! all plastic can be recycled, but only about 20% of what I collected can be done in the uk. the rest will be crushed and sent over seas to be be burnt probably. what a wasteful and polluting people we are!!

From here, I will head up to the Isle of Skye, find myself another beach, set up camp and get cleaning. It may take me two weeks or so to get there - on foot and all - but I will get there. Now I have a currency too!! Rope. Everyone needs it. Not everyone realises it. And my collection while walking has been narrowed down to plastic! damn plastic!!!! and cans. that way I can get it all.

Gash, Kevin and Brian. Three phenomenal meetings!! in three days. You three along with aaaaall the rest were such an inspiration..keeping me motivated´(and whisky'd up, lovely scottish isles brew..) when the high tide brought in another load. And showing me the human race is worth fighting for, and drinking to... Our planet is sick, people. but it will survive us. I know that. I feel that. But we wont if we keep going the way we are.

Carol and Johannes, I am sorry, but you'll have to take yourself down off that pedestal I put you up on, I'm off.

wow..there is so much more to write..you'll all just have to wait for the book I guess, I can't fit it all in here.

Hairy Coos and the Dread Lock bull, Sea Eagles and the Moutain Goats were my neighbours. The flow of appreciative people my support. And the midgies my enemies. damn those little carnavors!!! but, they are born to eat, as we all are..just I wish they didn't eat me!!!

Check out the Oban Times newspaper this Friday..you#ll see my pile..and my beard.

Quotes of the last two weeks -

- patiece has to be developed. it can not be taught. spending four days with close on a km of rope to untie is a good start.

- as said of carsaíg bay by two people - word for word . . .

If I was a religious person, this place would make me think of god.

- go aussie!!!

- and happy swedish day!

- i think i have become a pyromaniac.."master of the flame!!" no, no..we can never be master of any of the elements, they will punish us if we claim to be.

Oh yeah...Isle of Erraid - wonderful community. uplifting people.
Isle of Iona - .... everyone must go and experience it for themselves.

and a big shout out to Oban Backpackers!!!! Min ... go to Erraid!!

Day 21

2006-05-30T09:47:00.000+01:00

tim is a long way from internet access at the moment, so this journal entry was relayed by telephone to andrew, back home.

-

Day 21 - Tim in Carsaig Bay

i'm now in isolated carsaig on the isle of mull, and will be for the next few days as upon arriving here, i noticed that carsaig bay is a storm wash up for international trash - so there is a beach for me to clean. a day and a half's work has got maybe a quarter of it, so there is much more to do in the way of fishing net, bottles, and other crap.

dominated by huge cliff sides, carsaig bay is a beautiful place, somewhat lessened by the rubbish on the beach. there was no means of food here, so yesterday i felt i had to move on, to continue my bartering life, but just as this thought had popped into my head, the generosity of scottish holiday makers supplied me with enough food left over from their holiday to last me until the beach is cleaned, so now this is where i am.

tim out

-

tim will write a more detailed blog of his previous days and coming days when he's on the move again towards tobdermory.

we found tim. he's been calling us from this phone box.

and this is carsaig bay

if anyone is in the area, please feel free to take some rubbish off his hands, as he has no idea how to take rubbish away from this extremely isolated place on this isle of mull.

Day 18

2006-05-26T12:49:00.000+01:00

Close Encounter with a Cow...

only got a minute, so instead of telling you about the most refreshing experience on the Isle of Iona (will save that for later) instead I will tell you about the cow.

I was running around the Isle, camera in hand continuing my series of 24mm Scotland when I came across a family of ... yes ... cows. Two calves and one Mum grazing calmly.

I decided to interrupt their meal for a few moments and test out their courage, so I lay down in the muck that was their field (mostly dried) and waited.

As I was snapping away it definately drew their attention and curiosity. Mumma cow was gradually coming closer and closer, ripping out the long grass with such force along the way, trying to look inconspicuous I guess. In the end she had come right up me to within about 30cm of the lens, steaming it up in the process and ate a circle of grass right around my whole body for about ten minutes. Perhaps showing off to the bulls watching from the other side of the fence, or teaching her calves that they are really in control. The sound of a chewing cow is deafening at close range, grunting and puffing away. And for those of you who know the 24mm lens - imagine the images!! Awesome!

today, it is absolutely pissing down with rain. keep walking.

Day 16

2006-05-24T18:20:00.001+01:00

Day 16 - Tim on the Isle of Iona

Spectacular place. Ferocious weather. Wonderfully collected people.

Every time I have had a moment of de-motivation, someone has come along and smiled at me. perfection in timing everytime.

Seeking serenity for silence is pointless if you live with a messy mind.

Iona, being the wonderous place it is, I spent my time painting, sweeping and plucking thistles from the farm land. It uplifted me more so than standing on the highest cliff overlooking the widest oceans. Because I knew that it is only my heart that tells me of happiness, not the waves. Don't get me wrong, my appreciation for the beauty that is inside and out is as high as ever. But I have found a new way of observing.

I love this walk. The barter system on which I am living requires me to work, everyday. For meals, shower, internet. everything. Nothing is for free. I am not a charitable cause, and it is absolutely fantastic. I have removed all elemensts of economics from my life and for a brief moment I am removing from the lives of the people who I work for.

In a couple of weeks I will be in Fort william, about 250km away. then i will pump this walk in the media. my aim is to make finding tim a national experience.

If you see me, give me your trash!

I walk the roads, cleaning up the mess left there.

someone has to do it.

tim out

Day 14

2006-05-23T15:09:00.001+01:00

Day 14 - Tim in Bunessan

Started off grand!! record time packing up. nice and early. feeling strong. 20 miles ahead of me today. no problems!!

Although....

Those of you who know me, please raise your hand if I, Tim Lock, should not be allowed to own a seriously sharp Leatherman Knife...please note my raised hand.
After getting the knife to sharpen my "weapon of death" it was aptly named (walking stick) to stab my prey (trash), my seconf purpose was unknown, until I pulled out an orange and thought "Aha!! peeling to be done"
There is now a red, bloodied bandage on my left thumb..thank god for my quick reactions and first aid kit, otherwise I would have had a thumb a couple of millimetres shorter than my other. In unicen please "tim..you idiot". I am a walking talking breathing bleeding marketing tool for Leatherman right now. They are aweomse everyone should have one!!

You should see me, bandage on my left thumb and middle finger (wodd gathering - grabbed a thorn bush - slice), both black with ash along with the rest of my hands from fighting with the fire. Covered in scatches - 17 on both hands at the minute three quite deep. Red hair now, and as always caked with mud. In fact looking around, evertything is covered in ash. My camera. My food. My drink. I'm surprised the mini wading hole next to me doesn't have a solid coat.

But, I am sitting in paradise. Waterfall three metres to my right (washing away the ash i suppose), sheltered rocky fireplace, about to munch on a delicately made sandwich (leatherman knife involved) and a hot choco. what else could you want after two days and 25 odd miles on foot. I am just outside of Bunessan I think on the Isle of Mull. About 12 miles or so from Iona.

But I did get a boost of reassurance and confidence from Paul today. Walking along, as I do..and Paul, Debbie and their son Josh were waiting around the corner for, obviously had seen my placard "CLEAN UP SCOTLAND" on my pack. Nice hot bed. Cold beer. Good food. Was the offer on the Isle of Erraid. An almost fully self sufficient organic island 1 mile square same port as Iona. . . . "these times will come Tim. Be strong. Not fuel!!!" I thought to myself. So I contined walking with the buzz that someone actually paid attention to what I was doing of just trying to avoid me or hit me with their death on wheels machine.

tim out.

Quote of the day -

some'in or other..I'll get back to you.

Day 13

2006-05-23T14:44:00.000+01:00

it's been a while since my last post..so here it is..

After 4 days sitting at Oban waiting for postage of promotional stuff for my walk to arrive, which never did, and recovering from my 43km..the frustration set in. I was angry, easily rattled and lost touch of perpective. It's amazing how quickly life on the move becomes more than just a routine..it becomes a necessity almost. Having my little river bed fire and cozy tent to sleep in became so beautiful, I missed it. And unfortunately, I took it out on someone I loved.

But as soon as I don'd the new boots and began walking again, it all came back. Calm, collected Sanity.

Crossing the Mull Straight I think it was called by ferry, my next destination was The Island of Iona off the west coast of the Isle of Mull some 37 miles away.

Only could manage six today, lame I know. But I started off weak and it got me..especially when I found a glorious little spot to set up camp just off the winding roads of the Mull.

There is little to no traffic on these parts and I feel I will be passing the same bus drivers a few times over the next few days.

Gary from the servo, gave me directions to a place to camp - "when to road cuts right through the valley....long sweeping....two lochs....track which dips off tto the left...past the cattle grid... I look sheepishly at him as I was aware that once again I had zoned out.

...he repeated...I walked.

obviously I didn't make it to where he said, but follow your insinctis eh, and thats just what I did.

Beautiful spot. And I learned more about myself by watching the fire I lit than I had in the past years I feel. When all you have surrounding you is the simplicity of nature you learn to undertsand it and yourself... (let's make that the quote of the day)

tim out

Day 11

2006-05-17T19:08:00.000+01:00

people have suggested to me that this walk is admirable or meritorious.

but simply I am living my life day to day as I wish to.

that is one thing a person should aim for in life . . and i am not alone.

if i deserve credit . . then so do you.

Day 9

2006-05-15T23:06:00.000+01:00

These boots were made for walking..and thats just what they'll do..
The scottish roads are not designed..for walkers like me and you..
scariest damn roads you'll walk on!! inches between me and cliffs' both sides, trucks, traffic and tremendous amount of adrenalin!! 22kg on the back makes for slow reactions!

I have begun to be met with criticism, skeptisism, curious-ism...basically all the isms'. Including humour-ism, but then I would laugh at myself too if I saw me walking along steaming - yes steaming! Pants tucked into my red socks. walking stick with a blue rope - untwined - tied on like trassels. dripping wet from the beautiful scottish weather. and a number plate on the back of my pack. Aha!! finally legal on the roads I am!! just going to have to watch my speed now..I'm cruising at a solid 5km an hour and have that speed down pat..

but today, at the end of my 43rd km . . . pphhhh to 25km...the light had faded and I hit the wall like I had never done so before. I was absolutely motoring up until the point I put my pack down for my last break..then I literally could not move a muscle. I was stuck on the side on the road, seriously..stuck. until a motorist pulled up dragged me (nothing dodgy, just wanted to help) into his car, not with my objection though, I was delirious, talking crap and basically a mess..I have never felt so satisfied with an effort..even though I didn't make my goal of 51.8km, almost..not quite..

tim out

quote of the day -

scotsmans who have not left their own country their whole lives are bound to have few teeth. especially when their idea of a good camping trip is lots of drink and drugs....and of course we can't forget the fresh air. but the next comment was - "I can't smoke outside...too much fresh air.." ??!!

Day 7

2006-05-13T15:25:00.000+01:00

Apparent rest day... :/

I ended day 6 with a quick skinny dip in Loch Long, much deserved after 12 miles, (sorry to any passing motorists that may have been slightly offended..) Twas a small Loch, I could see the other side, but I was sheltered by overlooking mountains and last glimpses of the sun - awesome! I spent that night camped on a rocky river bend, patiently caring for a small fire started with one match and no paper(getting better), curiously peering into the most mysterious woods I have ever seen. My little enchanted forest. For the age of this collective of pine trees, the old needles had dropped. Lightly forming a carpeted floor motionlessly rippling. So soft to the eye, and under the boot. Yet not so to the bare skinned face and hands. The price you pay for enchantenment.

Massive day yesterday. 16 miles - 25km basically non-stop. Arriving in Inveraray. I needed a break. So I walked in the George Hotel, and bartered a meal for an hour and a half of seriously hard trench digging. That did not help the pain. My Achilles Heels have become my achilles heel, they ache. But as with all pain, it passes with time - keep walking. Time for a therapeutic salt soak..

I spent today labouring away at the George, and great Scottish family pub - 135 years passed through the generations, highly recommended to anyone in the area of the beautiful little town. The back wrenchin cement mixin, diggin and labour has left me covered in a new mess. Now I need to barter for some new socks. So tomorrow will be my rest day - to the streets! for I have some money to raise.

To all the support texts - thankyou so very much, but I am out of range, and dont know when I will be back in so am contemplating bartering for a new mobile account...sketchy...we'll see. And to the Brodie's crew - You all ROCK and I will never forget the times we all had there!!

Tim out.

Quote of the day - (well..not really a quote more an observation..
Scottish people are more interested in supplying beer than food, hence their jolly nature - a history of unsanitary water leaves people with little options - beer it is!

Day 4

2006-05-11T10:57:00.000+01:00

Fire Crackling. What a beautiful sound. A sign of self sufficiency. I sit here on this river bed, waiting for my water to boil, in the pot donated to me by Lucy of the Ben Lomond Cottage, so I can enjoy a nice hot cup o' tea. Slow moving stream to my left, Loch Lomond to my right, birds above. That was my morning.

By the afternoon, I had left the side of Loch Lomond and the West Highland Way. I caught a ferry over the other side of the Loch, for the only people I was seeing were other walkers, and when I explained what I was doing, a response was, 'well we're walking too....so what.'

So now I am on the road, heading to Oban, through the valleys that these roads follow, but, have lost my map..so whether I get there or not is up to a stroke of luck and the help of passer by-ers. So now my map has become an object of ignorance and neglect by me, lying there on the side of the road - somewhere..

There is a new goal - keep you're eyes on this sight for updates.

Environmental Conservation through Global Education. My walk had been extended.

tim out

Quote of the day -

Solitary confinement in a vast expanse of equal matter.
No wonder the brain feels trapped and alone when it surrounded by its own ego.

or on a lighter side - when trying to a explain to a 62 year old lady the internet, who has never used a computer before, be wary of telling her to grab the mouse next to the keyboard . . . unless you are willing to catch an airborne elderly

2006-05-09T16:50:00.000+01:00

Special thanks to -

-Mr and Mrs Jenny Taggart - for taking two garbage bags of bottles and cans of my load.
-Fred Cartmel - giving me the confidence in the Scottish people through his kind words.
-Gary for the coffee, and David Cooper for the meal from Rowardennen Hotel.
-Jenny for walking with me and helping with the back wrenching rubbish collection.
-Chris Clark manager, owner, proprietor of the The George Hotel - Inveraray...fantastic pub, fabulous people - awesome food..for the meal and the work that will keep me going! Thankyou!
-Nicky & Kylie - Oban Backpackers for putting me in a bed in my delirium.
-David Bleazard - Outside Edge, Oban for their expert advice in fitting me with some new and essential footwear!!

Day 3

2006-05-09T16:30:00.000+01:00

If someone in a singlet, pants tucked into their unpaired socks, covered in mud and possibly a touch smelly (I couldn't tell) walked into your pub and asked for a meal in exchange for a couple hours work in the garden or what not, what wouold your reaction be...?
"My God...what drug is this guy on? better call the police..." was the face I got in response. I did manage to get a black garbage bag for some litter picking though, not without the old - "go wait in the hall while I get you one" . . she thought I was absolutely nuts..

The next place I went into I got a coffee (sorry - cappuccino) a good conversation and a meal 7 miles down the road..and after not eating for two days, what a meal it was!!

So after three days I have walked 42km, not quite the 25 per day I was hoping for, but, a new element has entered this stroll, which seems to be creating more attention, and affection ;), I have filled up four garbage bags with trash in the past three days, which is dramatically slowing down my progress, and destroying my energy levels. So . . . 5000km . . . . ??? main thing is -

I am travelling my way, seeing more than I ever would have hoped to before, meeting some incredible people and am completely removing any element of pollution from the air and litter from the ground - my environmental conservation action in an attempt to raise funds and awareness for Frontiers' environmental conservation action!!

Every piece of trash on the ground, be it large or small, is a moment of ignorance and neglect by the person who threw it. Each one is as important as the next.

tim out

Quote of the day -

The most precious times in life
are those when time itself means nothing at all.

Day 1

2006-05-07T06:43:00.000+01:00

Leaving Edinburgh

The rain is falling and the morning fog is settled over Edinburgh.
It's cold and I feel like crap . . . but I wouldn't want it any other way..
6:50 am and a perfect day to start.

Time to walk on...

A bus (first and last in Scotland for a long while) to Milngavie, then my feet beyond that..

Who says you need a car?

tim out

2006-04-25T16:10:00.000+01:00

5000 km.

7 months.

aussie on foot.

No food, no money, no fuel . . . no destination

. . . just the scottish hospitality.