The intense smell of durian infused our tiny Chinatown hotel room drenched in mould and poor interior design. It is a remarkable improvement from our nightmare bunker in Indiantown the morning before, where my claustrophobia kept me up almost as…
Tag: Amelia Earhart
Building a boat in the desert
The days are slow. Each second tics on like torture. Often as I look at the time I realise that only minutes passed, not hours or lifetimes as it feels. An empty house with nothing to fill that is growing…
On the streets in Catania
They are roughly my age. In worn clothes and dirty backpacks they hang like teenagers in shade of the trees across from the restaurant where we’re eating lunch. They are as barefoot as the kind-looking, but dirty, dogs they have…
Who are you?
Suggested Soundtrack: Yesterday was my birthday. A few weeks (months?) ago I started pulling this joke that for every year now, I would turn younger, not older, making me now 29. To be honest, I really don’t care about my…
Levelled with the birds
Sneaking out from work on a Wednesday, me and Amelia Earhart took the opportunity to go to Rode di Vael to do the Via ferrata Majare/Masare. It was a wonderful day with perfect weather. A really thrilling but fairly easy climb.…
Staring at butts – climbing the Heini Holzer ferrata
A while back me and Amelia Earhart climbed possibly the most spectacular ferrata we have ever done: Heine Holzer. It is a new ferrata, only two years old, but already the crumbly Dolomites has taken its tole on the path. Scar…
On the shortness of life
Beneath me stood 200 meters of precipitous mountain wall. My hands burnt as they, for dear life, held on to metal-wires and bits and pieces of the rock. My toes rested aggressively on a few centimetres of something in between a slippery edge…