Recycling Van

Next job: Insulate the walls of the van and prepare for boarding.

I was staggered just how much of a difference covering the walls of the van would have on the acoustics in there… when I bought the van it was just a shell with some badly fitted plastic panels flapping around. As you drove along, the van made such a crashing din you could barely hear the bag of cats screeching in the back. Now it’s (partially) insulated, it’s so much quieter you can have a normal conversation without going hoarse.

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Sketchy Eleccy Plans

As a mechanical engineer, electrics are a bit like magic to me. There are different types and flavours of magic and woe betide any electrical item you feed the wrong brand of power. They really don’t like it. If you spot any magic white smoke escaping the product, it needs replacing, no joke. With this in mind, I did some research and along with Vandogs ebook guiding me, came up with this.

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The Van with a Plan

The Van

I bought this van from a dealer who sells old police vans. It has windows in the back and structural tracking in the floor for extra seats. It’s got a roof vent with fan for ventilation. It’s short wheelbase so fits in a std size car parking space but medium height so I can uncomfortably stand and more importantly I can get a bike in the back easily. It’s front wheel drive so I keep max headroom in the back and also really powerful because it’s ex-plod and I refuse to be the slow camper crawling up a hill in wales.

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Van-ishing Trick

Time to start a new adventure…

For a long time I have been thinking about my transport requirements and travelling. I love travelling by motorbike (can you tell?) day to day they are just better than cars but long distances by motorbike are pretty boring. Motorways are dull as dishwater and don’t do the bike any favours either in terms of mega miles on the clock. I’ve been all over europe on the Versys, my motorbike for the last 7 years. She’s a dear old lady now but I bought her new 47k miles ago. Continue reading Van-ishing Trick

Puppies, Property & Pint Glasses

Dogs are a great idea. I have decided. Especially puppies, they are awesome. I decided a long while ago I would like to get a dog. Growing up with a dog, going round my friends house all the time, I became his master as much as my friend was. Let’s call him Stephen, for ease. Not the dog, the friend. The dog was called Sam and we spent ages playing with him and walking him. The only part about dog ownership I don’t like, is having to pick up shit.

I’ve seen some videos of diligent owners training a dog to poop in the toilet and flush it, which is just incredible. But I imagine it took a lot of training. That’s the other thing; training. I want to train my dog and build a good relationship with it but currently my lifestyle doesn’t really support a dog. It would have to stay home all day on its own which isn’t fair. I could get a walker person puppy nanny doggy daycare but I’d be handing over the best bit to someone else to bond with my dog… nah.

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Motorbike Turbulence

So I got home safely, it was likely to happen… however the plane driver operator pilot did his best to make me doubt it.

You know, I’m not sure turbulence is a real thing. It feels like the whole plane had just landed on cobbles but you are thousands of feet up and passing through air, not known to behave like victorian rock roads. I think the pilot just gets bored and announces to the cabin that there is some “turbulence” approaching. As if they just looked out the window and saw a herd of cattle.. “Oh look, some cattle at 35,000ft…” casual. And then the pilot and his piloty mates exercise the biggest con in aviation.  I bet there is no such thing as turbulence, I bet the pilot just wobbles the steering wheel direction adjuster flying stick until he gets a few people to shriek or until he thinks the air hostesses will coo over him and stroke his arms saying “you’re such a skilled pilot to have controlled the plane in such terrible turbulence!” Maybe my imagination has wandered off on its own…

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Homeward bound and gagged

Hanoi to Russia to Home 1.5

The day to leave had come. Bag was packed. Bike remained unsold. Mike was in bed (like any sane person would be at 6am) Bed checked and double checked for hidden items. Checked out. Egg Bahn Mi in my face. Coffee in hand. Taxi waiting.

The weather echoed my mood; Heavy overhead with persistent drizzle. If only I didn’t have to leave… the “real world” we had been talking about, in flying comma, beckoned and there could be no ignoring it now. I mean, I could ignore it, and I would be fine, but I would be seriously shooting my career in the foot. I like my job and I enjoy my career but in this moment I felt like nothing more than throwing the towel in and disappearing into the east asian distance. Just thinking about the possibility made me pause getting in the taxi.

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Vegging out, vegging in

Hanoi chill out

I am glad I checked my flight details today. I had misread the time of departure as 1600 where it was actually 0955 tomorrow. The downside was that I had already spent the whole day relaxing and vegging out writing up the last 3 days of blogs. It was evening when the panic started to rise and I had to frantically pack and sort all my stuff out before the pub quiz. I had thought that with my flight at 1600 I could leisurely wake and do my packing and last bits of shopping before swanning over to the airport after lunch. It was not to be and I found myself running around collecting washing, trying to sell the bike, getting dinner, playing the pub quiz, buying a carry on bag, doing the pub quiz challenges and arranging a taxi in the morning with some of the islanders.

One of the things on my to do list had been drop off a Geocache somewhere in Vietnam. (See www.geocaching.com for literally the coolest nerdy thing to do for free) I had found a Trackable in one of the caches in England and decided to give it a boost around the globe. It had been in my bag for the whole trip, occasionally surfacing in my mind. I know it’s a silly 1st world problem to have but I have just been so busy doing cool stuff that I’ve not gotten around to it. Even today, where it was mostly spent administrating my life and catching up on blogging I was too busy to find time. I hang my head in shame that I have not completed my Geocaching mission.

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Wobbling Wounded

Ha Long to Hanoi

The aftermath of the night before was evident this morning. The pleasant morning gong managed to rouse about 20% of the island. I was up, not one to miss a meal. I had the choice of enjoying the company of the angry omelette man or semi-conscious sandy islanders. None more sandy than Mike who had crashed out on the beach and made himself a sand pillow. Somehow in the middle of the night he had dragged himself, and half the beach it seemed, back into his bed.

Time is deceptive on the island. Because you have been partying all day and the only light is sunlight or that powered by generator, once everyone has given up and passed out, its not actually that late. It gets dark at about 8pm and after 4 hours of dancing like a loon I was knackered!

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