This blog's for ME

Almost 25 years old, asking my parents if I can sleep in their bed with them. I had thought I was going to be the 25th Prime Minister of Canada. Things had changed. 10 years later, I was still a scared little boy. The time had come to slap myself awake. One Saturday morning, November 19th, 2009, I declared to the world I would be riding my 10 year-old motorcycle from Vancouver, BC Canada to Rio de Janeiro, Brasil, and back.

The official departure was August 28th, 2010. A group of well-wishers saw me off at 8:03 am.

I arrived in Rio de Janeiro around 6 pm March 1st, 2011.

My return to Vancouver came on July 5th, 2011 about 2:00 pm.

Drug & alcohol abuse, ADD, social anxiety, health, chronic pain, night terrors.

So many concerns. But I am far more interested in this question: Do I have the capacity to make this trip despite all my shortcomings?

My mission: To inspire myself to face my fears, enlighten myself on how all living things can peacefully co-exist, enjoy every moment, and see the world as plentiful and generous.

Go ahead. Call me crazy. Call me anything you like.

I'm out to save my world.


Questions, comments, concerns, threats? Contact me:


Some confusion over the parts in Managua/Rivas, so I'm going over on the boat this morning to sort it out. For some reason, the parts are in Managua, according to my taxi guy, and I have to go in there and get them. Should be a trifle difficult day.

And, as I write at 830 pm in Rivas, it was a difficult day. Started by missing the boat literally, as I was waiting in front of one boat, as the other was leaving behind me. Missing school bus dread! That was a blessing, as I had forgotten my visa and bank card back at the camp, so I would have had to return anyways. Also I was able to get ahold of Jose, the guy that helped me 3 weeks ago. I could not conceal my anger with him charging me 120 bucks to get into Managua 2 weeks ago (and exacerbated by the trip being a total waste of time) after a couple people told me 50 bucks to Managua and back. He still tried to cover it up explaining cost of gas and such. I said its not my problem, bring the purolator bill of lading with you to San JOrge boat dock, and well discuss.

I got on the 11 am boat, chatted with a canadian, then arrived at 12 and found jose. We had some tense moments, then settled on 70 bucks. We drove back to exchange him with his brother Jimmy, the seemingly quieter, more responsible , more likeable and trustworthy boy did I just make a lot of stuff up there! When we finally got to airport, it was looking like a quick and dirty deal, as the UPS guy said keep that bill that says 980 dollars value in parts in your bag. If its under 500 you dont pay taxes. I also let Jimmy take care of things but he was gone for an hour before coming out and saying the police found the bill of sale in the box, that included cost of parts AND freight to a total of 1750 bucks, meaning taxes to be paid on the total amounting to over almost $400 US. It was a shock, but I told myself we were lucky to not be thrown in jail for fucking around with the truth. Funny how quick I was to avoid telling the truth, and doubly interesting how I justified it wholly, telling myself the nicaraguan government had no right taxing goods or products not made in their country, nor staying in their country long enough to gather dust.

Now, I have 1 dollar left in my pocket, as VISa didnt work at the customs, so I had to pay cash, and I can only withdraw 450 per day out. No biggie ready for bed anyways but it hasnt been the first time i was down to nothing. If I didnt have a credit card, things would be a scramble and hats off to travellers who dont or cant use them. They are really a dangerous hit to the bottom line 30 days after purchase.

Tomorrow will be day one of mechanic, and I expect there will be at least one seemingly insurmountable problem arise. He already has shown his confidence to be misfounded when we went to Managua to find they didnt have any parts for my bike. Heres to hoping im wrong.

Will make it back to Ometepe tomorrow night, sleep there, gather my stuff, as I now am spread out between three places, having stored some bags in Playa del Sur since leaving there last Tuesday. This has all tested me to the point of not caring, so now its time to care again. No one else is going to do it for me.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Videos of my journey