A couple of days after arriving I loaded my bike and gear onto the train and took the 2 hour ride up to Katoomba in the heart of the Blue Mountains. Sydney is fringed by national parks and this mountainous area is composed of sandstone which provides jaw dropping views and steep drops from the escarpment on which Katoomba sits. On arriving I headed out on my bike along the escarpment and rode out onto 'Narrow Neck', a rolling ridge about 15km long which juts out into some of the parks most inaccessible and truly wild country. The temperature must have been around 30 degrees, that combined with some steep drops and climbs made it hard going.  I teamed up with a charming German student (I seem to have met several charming German's since I left home in October - don't mention the war etc) Fortunately he found it equally tough (for those of you who know Rob Llewellyn - it was his twin brother 20 years younger and with the same classy hairstyle). We both rode b...

Greetings blog followers from a hot hot hot Christmas Eve in Sydney The Turkey's stuffed, the wine's cooling in the fridge and Lizy and Zoe are in their last hour at work before heading over to peel potatoes and start their holidays. Most importantly Lucy has arrived safely back in Cumbria where Des tells me she has enjoyed mulled oil and paint pies (I'll have whatever he's drinking). The first week or so here has been fun, relaxing, hot and adventurous.  The news of snow, rain, more snow, Eurostar failure etc makes me feel both home sick and grateful to be where I am. I spent the first few days in the Blue Mountains with my bike (separate post planned) and then headed back into town to spend a lot of Lizy's money on a new tent so we could walk the Coastal Track in the Royal National Park (another post planned - lots of pics and not too many words). Tomorrow (Christmas Day) Lizy and I head up to Clareville to house sit Paul and Lizy's (yes another Liz...

The last two months have been tremendous fun and I have been very fortunate to have stayed with friends, met up with friends and have friends come and join me.  I have also had several people acting as support team from home, particularly in relation to van parts and mechanical problems but also morale.   So in no particular order thank you to ................. Virginia, Russell and Julie and Murdo, Des, Neil, Stephen, Ollie and Lindsey, Karen (and family), Clare, Susan and Lizy.

Greetings from Bracknell in the south of England.  The last few days have been somewhat fraught.  Very sadly Lucy is not with me.  After the coil replacement therapy I headed north from Burgos on Thursday with only 150km between me and Bilbao and the ferry home.  Sadly a malfunctioning fuel pump left us by the roadside waiting for the Spanish RAC.  I continued north in a hire car and Lucy is expected back in Cumbria on 18th December on the back of a lorry. I'm sad Lucy didn't make it back with me. She covered endless trouble free miles.  We got to some remote and far flung places, climbed high into the mountains and put smiles on thousands of faces.  The mechanical post mortem will take place in Penrith.  We suspect poor quality replacement parts as being the fault. I will return to Cockermouth tonight and have chance to see the impact of the flooding.  I won't be there for long.  I fly to Australia on Thursday until 13th January and...

As you will know Cumbria was hit by appalling weather a couple of weeks ago with awful flooding.  The organisation that I normally run for a living (Cumbria Community Foundation) kindly gave me 3 months unpaid leave to go on this jolly and my small staff team undertook to run the shop whilst I was away.  They had a lot to keep them busy before the floods.  But the day after the floods they launched an appeal to help people affected (I did volunteer to come home and help but the offer was declined).  We've done it before, but it's a major undertaking, and one that my colleague Deb (who is acting in my place) has not had experience of. It doesn't surprise me that yesterday the appeal target went over £1m and continues to rise.  Cumbria has been absolutely devastated by the floods and any help that people can give should be channelled through http://www.cumbriafoundation.org/ I am hugely proud of their achievements and hope to drop into the office next week to ...

On Monday morning I waved goodbye to Virginia (who flew home from Marakech) and took my van parts to the garage. After a tense three hour wait Lucy fired up and together we began our journey north (with me still experiencing the effects of African Man Flu (stomach variety). It's now Wednesday evening and I'm in a fancy Hotel in Burgos about 130km south of Bilbao.  We've covered almost 1300 miles and I've been on the road for more than 27 hours.  Monday's drive north was pleasant enough and not too rushed.  Tuesday started at 5.30am and ended around 7.30pm.  It involved 2 hours through Morocco then an awful hour fighting my way through hordes of Moroccans at the border and then the peace of Spain ...............  The mountains in the north of Morocco are stunning and the views across the mediteranean were awe inspiring.  The sun was still rising as I dropped down towards Ceuta (the Spanish enclave). I had planned to stay in Granada, bu...

Now some would think it unkind of me to make fun of Miss Anderson, especially as she travelled so far to be here, with the expectation that she might see something of this fine country other than Marakech.  However for those of you who know me, you know that I am unlikely to let compassion get in the way of a good story. For here in Marakech we have multiple lanes of traffic containing a mixture of scooters, cars, vans, donkeys and horse drawn carriages (the smell of shit is quite something in some parts). Crossing the road, as you can imagine, can be quite an adventure. But as with all things style and nonchalance are things that one should try and retain.  It is possible, with practice, to step out into the road and thread your way between the various vehicles.  As far as I can tell the drivers of Morocco do not wish to kill pedestrians - so it's possible to take a few chances and gamble on them hitting the brakes. So far, after 9 days in the city these ...

On a day when Moroccan families have ritually slaughtered a sheep each and community barbecues have sprung up all over the medina, our fearless adventurer is in bed with a woollen hat and long johns on. It appears that no matter how warm the winter, colds and lurgy are still abundant. He has African Man Flu. So, today he's asked me to update you all instead. It certainly gives me break from the roof terrace and trying to protect my off blue scottish pelt from becoming lobster red! After many, many, many international phone calls, quite a large dollop of stress, multiple visits to the garage and an anxious wait outside the DHL office in Marrakesh, Lucy's spare parts have arrived – Hoorah! Aziz, the only person who's made any sense in this whole thing drove the van here himself, greeting 'Mr Andrew' with a parcel as everyone was trying to pack up for the Moroccan equivalent of Christmas. A huge thanks to everyone who's been checking on progress here, and i...

The parts are now in Cassablanca and have been for two days.  However DHL seem incapable of shifting them the equivalent of Manchester to Carlisle and we are going a little crazy.  I know it seems wrong to complain, especially with so much rain and  flooding in the UK, but we should have been out of here three days ago.  Virginia should be in Glasgow and I should be in Madrid. Grrrrrrrr The Van Man

Well it has been an interesting few days.  I fitted the parts V brought over from the UK but with only limited success.  So on Friday we limped into town and the VW garage.  A new fuel pump is required and currently one is on its way from the UK.  We have visited pretty much everywhere there is to visit and are now beginning to go a little stir crazy .......... There are places worse than Marakech to be holed up.  We are staying in a wonderful Riad on the edge of the Souk.  It was very hairy finding our way in and out to start with but we have got the hang of it now. The stand out experience has been our Hamam visit  a hot steamy scrub down followed by massage. We are hoping the parts will be here tomorrow with an escape on Thursday.  Which will mean a mad race north to catch the ferry from Bilbao on Monday lunchtime. The Van Man and Glaswegian assistant V

I'm taking advantage of the wireless connection to post a quick update.  Firstly I am delighted to say both sets of parts were safely handed to Miss Anderson on Penrith and Oxenholme Railway stations this morning (despite floods holding up the train) and the wonderful guy from Rayrigg Motors sitting it out at the station waiting for over an hour.  Virginia is now in the air and I will be driving (tentatively) across town to pick her up from the airport in an hour or so. I tried to fit the new HT leads today (some spare parts that I carried here from England) only to find out that Just Kampers sent the wrong ones ........... well I can't make them fit and they don't have the same fittings as the ones that are on, grrrrrr. So here's hoping it's not them that are faulty. Otherwise my luck continues to stay with me.  A lovely German couple have just come and parked next to me and it turns out the man has an old VW van like mine and spent a winter re-building the engin...

Close followers of this blog will be aware that despite á little fan belt hiccup on day one of the journey proper all has been pleasantly (for me) quiet on the mechanical front. Today saw a small change and one that I hope will not escalate into a full blown epic ................... It was my time to return back through and over the Atlas Mountains to Marrakech today, a nice 6,000 foot high pass to negotiate and countless hairpin bends. In fact there are two passes to cross as you go through the mountains and it was as I was about 4 miles from the top of the second and smaller of the two the engine began to mis-fire. Not too dramatic but enough to make me pull over and dig out the Haynes manual. There's nothing like being over 1500 miles away from home and more importantly about 700 miles away from RAC breakdown cover to instil a new found interest in motor maintenance. I am not a complete fool, but for any non mechanic who has skimmed through a Haynes manual you quickly realise...

Mount Toubkal was up at the top of my 'to do's' when planning my visit to Morroco. It is the highest mountain in N Africa and pretty big at 4,167m. Most people hire a guide and a donkey to carry their gear. But I was travelling with penniless students so we were our own guides and donkeys. It is normally done as a two or three day trek. Walking into a refuge on day one and then doing the hill the next day. Returning as soon as possible. We left Marrakech early on Saturday morning and drove into the mountains. We ate a wonderful breakfast of lentil soup at a roadside cafe before driving to Imlil, the end of the road. I ended up climbing the mountain with two young Morrocan couchsurfing friends and a student from the Czech republic that we picked up along our way. The walk to the refuge rises over 4,500 feet taking you from wooded valleys to a dry, cold, icy barren rock covered world. We walked through brilliant sunshine taking our time, accompanied by donkeys and guides. We ...

Once I passed south over the Atlas Mountains I entered the Draa valley. It was my route to the desert and my home for several days. The Draa is Morroco's longest river and provides water for palmeries i.e. palm groves which follow its banks. These in turn support a necklace of villages and towns heading over 150km south into the desert. Once you are a few km away from the river dry desert stretches as far as the eye can see with chains of rugged arid mountains on all sides. The settlements along the Draa are on the traditional caravan route north out of the Sahara to Marrakesh. As a consequence they were very wealthy and each has at least one mud walled kasbah i.e. castle. The Kasbah's were built to protect people and possessions from raiders. The palmeries are very fertile and I camped in one that produces dates, figs, onions, aubergines, tomatoes, carrots; wheat and fodder for the animals. Animals are kept indoors to protect them from the heat. In the traditional houses this ...

Zagora is a bit of an arm pit of a town. It is a centre for tourists launching themselves into the desert, the millitary that guard the contested border with Algeria and the market town for the surrounding area. I experienced the worst hassle since crossing the border here. Tourists seem to be preyed upon like carrion, charmless pressure sales techniques, men hollering at you from all sides and people simply expecting you to put money in their outstretched hands. Despite this hassle I found a very nice campsite which had a range of mini suites and sleeping cabins around a small garden on the edge of the palm grove. It was here that I arranged a two day trip into the desert. Morocco's portion of the Sahara is predominantly rock and stone fringed by mountains to the north rather than the classic golden sands of popular imagination. However it does have two large dune systems, the largest, Erg Chigaga, is situated just north of the Algerian border about 100km south of Zagora an...

Apologies for what will now be a mini deluge of posts written in the van over the last two weeks but which I have not been able to post. Also no photos cos I cannot get them onto this computer in the desert; sand in the works I think .......... I am very well. Heading bqck north towards Marrakech tomorrow after lots of fun in the desert and mountains of the south east .......

I have been away from a computer for several days now; so no time for flowery prose. I am typing this in Ouarzazate just south of the Atlas mountains after the most amazing drive over a 6000 foot high mountain pass from Marakech. I have been travelling with a number of Moroccans and a Czech guy since Friday. We had a night in Marakech then hit the mountains. Climbing Mount Toubkal the highest in N Africa on Monday. Today I head into the desert ...................... all well with the van man: Andy

Greetings from Chefchaouen on the edge of the Rif Mountains in Morocco. Today could not have gone smoother - not quite - I did drive onto a toll road with no local currency and have to trade some euros for dirhims from another motorist before being let through the barrier .......... oops Otherwise it was great. I got lots of hassle from touts at the border, but that is expected. I have also been offered enough cannabis to comatose a whale, but no one has been pushy when I have declined. The more perceptive reader will note the lack of abbreviations. This is because this arabic keyboard is quite a challenge ......... It is over twenty years since I have had the sensation of being so isolated from the people around me. I took a walk into town and went the wrong way. Away from the vaguely touristy parts and into the new town. Some aspects are very modern, but this is a relatively poor mountain area. I have seen people dressed as if they have stepped out of a bible story. There is...

Cadiz is Europe’s oldest city. Built by the Carthaginians it is a natural port, providing excellent access to north Africa and access to inland Spain through the Guadalquivir river. Its charm is derived from being both a port and ancient. This means it’s not at all fancy and has the most wonderful narrow streets. It has also been duffed up by the British quite a bit too. The old port is guarded by a castle, but that didn’t stop both the Earl of Essex and Francis Drake from popping by and firing off a fair few cannon rounds into the town. The port was the receiving point (along with Seville up river) for the immense wealth that came into Spain from the America’s. Somehow Steve and I roused ourselves in good time and were taking to the streets by 9.00 – paseo-ing (walking to you and I) we saw several fabulous dragon trees, ate choros (deep fried yummy dough) and climbed to the top of one of Cadiz’s 160 plus watch towers. These were built by merchants wanting to know what ship’s were sail...

Limited access to the internet and the distractions of travel mean these postings are rather sporadic – like the eponymous bus – none for ages then several come along at once. I’ll provide an over view of what’s happened since Wednesday in brief then if I’m inspired write some mini entries. When I last posted I was in the beautiful city of Granada, home to the Alhambra Palace and the Muslim rulers of Andalucía (and further afield). That was Wednesday, when I also drove to Malaga airport to pick up my good friend Stephen. Yesterday morning (Monday) I put him on the train just outside Seville. During our time together we’ve had two days camped outside Ronda, a night in a Hostal in Vejer (near Cadiz) near the Atlantic coast and two nights camping in Dos Hermanas (a suburb of Seville). Highlights have included; Flamenco in Seville, professional and amateur (we spent a couple of hours in a bar/olive oil emporium listening to several people sing and one girl dance), walking in the wonderf...

In praise of wild camping So far in my short trip into Spain I’ve enjoyed four evenings in ‘wild camp grounds’. The beauty of having the van is that you are totally self contained. Pull up, put the roof up and you’re set for the night. A truly nomadic existence and cost free. Camp sites with toilet blocks, internet connections and security gates provide a sense of safety, but also domesticity and a sense of being insulated from the world around you. The uncertainty and adventure associated with finding a place to lay your head is a real return to nomadic roots. My most recent wild camp was on a beautiful beach bordering Andalucía and Murcia. Signs proclaimed sin acampar (no camping) and when the local Guardia Civil (Police) drove onto the beach at 6.00pm I thought I was about to be told to move on. However the gods seemed to be with us and they simply smiled and drove off. The warm Mediterranean Sea proved to be the perfect bathing pool and the clear night sky showed more stars than...

I’m very much cast in the role of supporting actor on this trip. Lucy (the van) is clearly the star. For example as I sat in the van on Sunday evening eating my tea almost everyone in the Sierra Nevada mountain village that passed us by stopped to admire Lucy’s lovely lines and paint work. A German woman stopped to tell me how much she loved the van and then when passing half an hour later came up, arms outstretched, and gave Lucy a hug. A group of young Spanish students shouted ‘we love your van’. Wherever we go we’re ‘honked’ at and receive waves and smiles on the quieter country roads. There’s something very special about old VW vans which spread joy and love.

Some of my friends have given me side long glances when I’ve mentioned ‘couch surfing’. But yesterday I met one of Spain’s all time gentleman c/o this travel website. Its motto ‘building a better world one couch at a time’ is probably a bit too cheesy even for me, but I agree with the sentiment. Danny is a local, who gave me a wonderful lunch followed by an expert walking tour of the old city mixing information about the history of the area with tit bits about current city living. Thank you Danny and thank you couch surfing.

The largest and the biggest On Sunday I climbed Mulhacen, the highest mountain on the Iberian peninsular. One of the reasons for doing this is because Giles, an occasional mountain companion of mine seems is always keen for us to bag ‘the biggest thing around’. So finding myself in the proximity of ‘a big one’ I didn’t feel I could pass by without adding it to the list. Together Giles and I were fortunate enough to climb the highest mountain in the Tatras range last year and when with Giles I failed to get to the top of Mount Whitney (highest point in the contiguous USA) earlier in the year. It was certainly satisfying sitting on top of the mountain surveying the peaks below and scanning south to the Mediterranean Sea and the Rif mountains of Morocco beyond. But was it any ‘better’ than its neighbouring peaks? Tubkhal, the highest peak in North Africa is sitting in the Atlas Mountains waiting for me now ……….

My home for the last four days has been a beautiful house overlooking the mediteranean set in a wonderful garden. The garden is terraced and includes a cactus garden, herb beds, a swimming pool, Lindsay's sculpting workshop, a lovers hammock and the most wonderful compost heap where after the casual dropping of seeds butternut squash grow in profusion. So many squash have grown that they are used as decoration in the house and garden. Today we have been mostly eating squash ............ On Monday we picked oranges, grapefruit, figs and pomegranites from the garden - what a joy. I'm staying in the home of Ollie, who is Lindsay's partner. He's a generous boule player, charming, linguistically gifted and a fine companion on a mountain walk. Lindsay is an artist and one of Max's step sisters. She came here four years ago to complete her art degree and has yet to leave. Lindsay and I have shared Hong Kong Christmas adventures in the past. I also saw her here in March 200...

I have proper internet access for the first time since arriving in Spain, so everything is happening in a rush today - including quite confusingly posting a blog I wrote on the ferry over a week ago ............. One correspondent has asked for tales of swash buckling adventure ............. well I'm sorry to say I have yet to rescue any damsels in distress, the same correspondent has complained about too much van detail .......... so all I can say is Lucy is fine (and her fan belt is working like it should). I'm in Altea, a beautiful old town on the Costa Blanca, I'm staying with Lindsay and her boyfriend Ollie for a few days. As I'm typing I'm looking out across the balcony to the sea and looking forward to my dip in the pool ............ but for now I'll bring you up to speed with my travels .... When I last posted I was in Madrid soaking up culture and catching up with friends. It's Tuesday today (I think). On Friday I launched myself east into New Cast...

What’s been happening in the Red House on wheels? The first week has been filled with farewells and love – thank you to you all for your hospitality in Stokesley, Ipswich, Colchester, Englefield Green, Bracknell, New Malden and Paddington – not quite the preparation for a solitary existence, but great all the same. Highlights so far include; driving across the roof of the North York Moors in beautiful autumn sunshine with my Mum, standing on the roof of Lincoln Cathedral, lunch in Carluccio’s (nice choice Katherine), being silly with Mathew and Abigail in Hyde Park, Katie’s 8th Birthday party, the presentation of spare wing mirrors for Lucy (thank you Paul, what does that say about my driving style?) meeting the Tynedale Biscoe’s au pair, guarding the Cooper’s house from burglars, free van door repair from VW antics of Suffolk (thank you) a pint with me old mate Cliff and a protracted and highly amusing farewell telephone call to Clare. Special thanks go to Karen and Derek ‘my support...

Monday morning saw Lucy and I driving through fog, cloud and rain as we climbed the foothills above Bilbao. The rain dettered us from exploring the Atlantic coast and the Picos Europa and the call of Madrid 400 km to the sunny south was too much to resist. The first three hours or so went without a hitch - beautiful vistas opened up across dry sweeping plains and we passed through several mountain tunnels and a mountain gorge. It was only after filling up with petrol about two hours from Madrid did a routine engine inspection reveal an almost snapped fan belt. With Haynes manual in hand and Dad´s tool kit beside me I dived into replacing the belt - driving away I felt rather proud of myself and headed on into the heats of the plain. For those of you that are not familiar with VW camper engines it´s useful for you to know that the fan belt is especially important. The engine is air cooled and needs all the air it can get to be blown over it - especially in the sun of Spain and Moroc...

Today the adventure began Lucy was pawing the ground on Henry Street like a true thoroughbred and with the roar (well muted putter) of the engine headed east over the Pennines to Stokesley and the first stage of the journey. After picking up the Queen of the Co-op we drove deep into the heart of Heartbeat Country, taking in autumn sunshine and colours in equal measure. Disapointed in not being able to find Nick Berry on his bicycle (and therefore not able to do him any physical harm) we retired to a traditional N Yorkshire hostelry and ate Thai food ................... tomorrow Ipswich ......... I promise it's going to get more exciting, honest ................. This blog was brought to you by Andy and his Mum learning about blogs and stuff

The count down has begun - it's a month before me and Lucy (the van) head south for the winter. The plan - to visit Spain and Morocco in a beautiful red and white 1974 VW bus - with no fixed plans and no meaningful mechanical skills .......................... The mission - to chill, reflect, explore and make new friends and gain new experiences Join me if you will in this mini odyssey

There was a van and man and plan, no one called Stan - or even a can of spam but at least there was a plan - a mission even to take that beautiful red and white bus south for the winter - to chill, reflect and explore in Spain and Morocco It's approximately one month before I leave the UK for three month's of adventure armed with limited language skills, a tool kit, but no knowledge of how to use it, a pile of books, some couch surfing contacts, travel scrabble and a winning smile....... if you want to suggest where I go - what I do let me know follow me into the Medina and the souk if the winter blues set in