Page four

Doha Qatar was one of my first out of Africa experiences. My first memory is of the suffocating heat and humidity. I remember stepping off the plane and it was really late in the evening, and this blanket of heat infused suffocation, grabbed my lungs aggressively, to the point that I had to mentally remind myself to breathe. 

We took the bus and were on our way to the compound. Training began the moment we arrived. This was the Doha 2006 Olympics, there would be nothing but training and hard work for the next month and a half. Despite all that, I had never felt more excited or passionate as I had in that moment of arrival.

I was a first year student at IHS and this was everything I had dreamed about. THIS was my reason to study hospitality and travelling was my dream. What seemed unreachable and almost impossible became the very real then and now.  It was exulirating.

After a short dinner in the staff canteen and a brief welcome and introduction, we all made our way upstairs to find our assigned beds and dorms. Some of us had arrived before others and some of us were still on their way to join the grand adventure in Doha.

Upon passing all the dorms filled with buz and chatter I came across my assigned room.  On each bed was a little kit with basic necessities, why this made me dileriously happy I have yet to understand, but the gesture filled my whole body with gushing joy. I am not sure if it was because at that exact moment my surroundings became a reality, and the feeling of living a dream and goal became so suddenly real, or because the little gifts were new, foreign and exciting. No, I am not certain, but that happiness is a feeling I get each and every time I explore a new place.

I fall in love with countries as often as I fall in love with men. Although the end result is different, because I remain in love with the countries and my passion just grows deeper.

Waking up the first time in Doha is a memory etched into the files in my mind. The sun rays that broke through my Window and drew patterns on my cement floor were so yellow with a dusty haze that it took me more than an instant to hear the morning prayers being sung in the local mosque. I just lay back and closed my eyes, envisioning the locals in their colourful robes praying inside while Doha came to life, and a new day had just begun.

Page three. Diary entries from my ship life

November 09 01:15 

Tonight I stood outside on deck seven just appreciating the fresh air and the beautiful sight of the outside world. I have realized one important missing factor from my time onboard, I need to write. It doesn’t matter if what I write is a concoction of jumbled thoughts thrown together, as long as I write those thoughts down. To write is to escape, and onboard you cannot live without finding a way to do so. Tonight as I stood outside breathing in every breath one treasured moment at a time, I completely immersed my thoughts into themselves. The water rumbling and crashing against the side of my new home rose to the surface with a shimmering colour of faded topaz blue, and in the distance I faded into sky that alit with sharp flashes of lightning. I was completely alone, and for those ten minutes I felt as if I had lived a life time of treasured minutes that no one would ever understand or appreciate as much as I did right then. I can’t explain how it feels to be completely alone, and I have never really felt it as solely as I did now. Standing on a ship, in an alley where no one really steps foot in the early hours of the morning, I completely let myself go with my own thoughts. I took in every breath of that warm sea air and I drowned my soul in the picturesque beauty of solitude. Curled up in my bed now, thinking back to that moment I just shared with my only link to nature, I am completely amazed at how such a small means of escape can become the muse and the answer to all my pent up frustration that has been building over the last three weeks. With endless nights of unstructured thoughts and meaningless worries, I think that finally I am able to get a peaceful night of rest and hopefully a fresh start to a new day. Yes, I believe this is the answer. This is the only way I am going to make it through the next seven months onboard a floating prison. It is time to let this mind wonder with the open air of the sea, and let my heart keep breathing with the rhythm and sound of the ocean crashing against my bedroom walls. With a big sigh, I am finally ready to rest my head, thoughts and worries, and rejoin my soul in its haven that I have just discovered. I cannot wait to close my eyes and escape once more to a place that is completely my own, a place where I am free from all the pressure that has been bestowed upon me. This is a place where I am safe, and a place where I can fulfil all the needs in my heart, even if it is for just a moment, it is a moment that lasts a lifetime. Goodnight.  

 04 November 09 17:55 

The water is beautiful today, its colours are ranging from a deep blue to a misty purple, and it looks almost as if it has been high lighted by an artist with a paintbrush dipped in a light blue water colour. This has become part of my routine, sitting outside in my isolation enjoying the fresh air and the beauty of the sea. Today however I have brought my laptop with me, and whilst I sit here on the stairs with my music playing, I can almost feel my tension being whipped away by the warm breeze that’s stroking my face. The clouds are coated with a pink lining today, and they are hovering above this pallet of ocean colours, comforting my floating island. I can feel the sun departing, as the air becomes a little less humid and the sparkle of the oceans surface slowly sinks to the bottom of a world where my day dreams seem to spend a lot of their time. As I glance up to inhale another breath of my ever so slightly changing scenery, I notice a grey curtain of rain that seems to remain stagnant in the sky. This curtain seems to be in the wake of my mobile home, and up ahead we are headed straight for the clashing colours of orange, yellow and a deep grey as the sky seems to tease us with its threats of another bumpy ride. The president of our government is made up of only one form, and that is time. My watch has become my ruler and my ball and chain. As I realise I have entitled myself to far too much freedom, and that I am surely well over my allowance, I take a quick glance down at my superior and lo and behold, it is once again time to jump into the sewer of the rat race I voluntarily joined. This is a true example of the anagram bitter sweet, although nothing could ever replace the sweet, life has the perfected the art of balancing absolutely everything. What a beautiful day in the ocean, and how blessed I am to have learnt the art of complete appreciation. This has become my reward for a tough comrade inside the walls of my mobile island.  

05 November 09:00 

I cannot stop smiling! Today was probably my most challenging day work wise, but nothing seems to be able to blind my positive eyewearJ The clouds are coated in silver, and are still cushioning my floating island that seems to fit in the scenery so snugly. The water is a lighter topaz blue, but the painter has still left his light blue water colour trade mark. I have realized that the painter has a name; he is a she who goes by the name of the MSC Poesia, the poetry of the sea. This light water colour blue highlights only the path of the painter, and is not present in any other area of the ocean, how ironic. Today, I have been given longer leisure away from my ball and chain. For at least a few moments I am allowed one hundred percent freedom from the thoughts of returning to the rat race in the burrow, or should I say bough. The sun is coating my skin with a warm glow, and the reflection of the water is sparkling like an inverted version of the night sky. I wonder if the world underneath this sky can enjoy the variances between the night and the day, or are they permanently covered by this inverted night sky. I feel so at peace in this moment, as I always do. How lucky I am to have found a small way to capture it and selfishly enjoy it whenever my hearts feels the need. This small pleasure has become the fuel to my days, this along with a few stolen moments over a phone, I have truly found the perfect formulae to make the great escape from my prison. 

It started at a young age...

My first real trip was to Kenya. I was ten years old when my dad called us into the lounge to explain that we would be going to a new place for a while.  My dad clearly explained that we would be moving and it would not be permanent.  He also explained that he would not be home for alot of the time as he would be working in Sudan. My dad has always been able to adjust very easily and always seems to blend very well into his surroundings. I used to say he was like a chameleon. I am sure I take after him.

Trips away started at a very young age, my grandmother said she and my grandfather would take me on camping trips from the age of 10 months. We would go to the South Coast and many other places in South Africa. I remember my old brown suitcase that my mom would pack for me and the night before drop offs and early rising for our great trip away!!! I remember sparkle sweets and car games.  I also remember nativity plays and getting angel wings made out of paper plates for my star appearance in the camping club Christmas play. Adventures started before I could walk.

With a dad that moved around for his own entrepreneurial passion and grandparents that took me along on many camping trips my combination of the two developed into this fire that lives and breathes into every inch of my body.

I am grateful for my constant urge to travel and be successful because with this desire I have experienced so much and lived a life so fulfilling that I could not express to you with words alone. Its a passion and a love that runs so deep I can literally feel it physically in my blood.

The battle I have been facing lately is this passion now conflicts with my natural desire to settle down as an adult woman.

After I finished varsity in Durban I found a job on the cruise ships. It was a dream come true. Filled with everything I had ever wanted.  I thought I had found my place... uuuum maybe not.

Page one

A friend of mine suggested i start a blog,  and I scoffed at the idea. Then a few days ago another friend of mine suggested i write a book.

What I can't understand is why someone would want to know about my life. It's a journey without a destination. Its a series of ups and downs that sometimes frustrates the crap out of me. My heart rules my decisions and my mind follows obediently. I am a traveller, I have a passion that unsettles many people including myself. I am addicted and this is my life.

I'm a dreamer, I live for the ideal not for the realistic.  I always think for the now  and never contemplate the consequences. My head is full of dreams and ideas and I'm not afraid to follow  them.

I seem to have a 3 month expiry date.  my feet get itchy and I feel claustrophobic.  that's when I know I need to move. I feel unsettled being settled even though it's what I think I want.

Born in kwazulu natal, I grew up in a little country town called Hilton. I had friends that lived just down the road and I played in the streets.  With my overactive imagination the forest down the road  became a playground with endless opportunities for new adventures. I was never at home when I was younger. I left the house early in the morning and returned only to eat lunch and to go to sleep.  I always had some excuse for my parents as to why I had to leave so early to meet up with my friends. The main reason was always because we had a club house meeting. I remember starting a club house with the intention of raising money to build the treehouse. My friends and myself used to wash cars and sell lemonade hoping to raise enough money to buy the wood to build a treehouse.

This never happened, and instead we found that buying ghost pops would be a better investment for our club. From a young age I have always been an entreprenuer with a head full of ideas. The difference was that I also  lacked the fear and cautiousness when It came to the execution of a plan. If I ever wanted to do something I would just do it . Nothing held me back  and no amount of reasoning would stop me from doing whatever it was I was determined to do.

This attitude  has followed through strongly together with my passion for travelling.  the combination of the two has taken me on so many adventures and continues to distract my attempt to live a normal life on land.