Category Archives: Music

Beglika Festival

To all friends, family, fellow travellers, nomads, gypsies and festival freaks. We have just got news that I will be playing the main stage, saturday night at the Beglika Festival in Bulgaria. 17-19 August. If you just happen to be around (ha ha) then come join us for a right good old knees up…

 

Surfing the Crisis

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Nina and I have been in Greece for six weeks now, certainly longer than we expected. True to our travel design we are keeping spending to an absolute minimum – the only way to prolong the trip. People have been asking how we afford to travel for so long, it will soon be six months since we left England, and how can we afford to travel in Europe especially. Greece has been the perfect example of how.

We paid for our first 3 nights in Greece when we arrived in Corfu from Italy. It was €64 in total, about £50. Since then we have not parted with a penny for a bed. Maybe we are bad tourists, given Greece’s current financial situation, spending on average £1.20 a night for accommodation during our 42 days here. We had the good fortune of friends with an empty house for two weeks, we camped between trekking days, we were offered a free room in a hotel and we slept under the stars in our sleeping bags when we missed the last bus out of the city. But how did we have four days seeing the sites of Athens, four days in Greece’s second largest city and the same amount of time in the student hub of Ioannina without parting with a single euro cent? Enter our remarkably kind and trusting new friends that we met through Couch-Surfing.

Greece has been the first place that Nina and I have bounced from couch to couch. It took a bit of forward planning, mostly by Nina, but the experience has been totally humbling. If you are new to the Couch-Surfing concept then I will explain quickly – firstly sign up on their website then once you know which places, cities or towns you are visiting search the database for like-minded (or non like-minded, if you are interested in a more eye opening experience) people and contact them to ask if their couch is free. Their profile states the type of couch. sometimes you get your own room or it could just be a space on the floor. The point really is not about the standard of accommodation but the fact that complete strangers are willing to take you into their homes. It’s an exchange network with the purpose of helping out budget travellers and making connections and friendships whilst learning about local culture.

Nina and I have had nothing but warm, kind, trusting welcomes into to each of the homes that we have stayed in here in Greece. We have been hosted by some very interesting people and learnt a great deal about Greece, the current “crisis” and home traditions, mostly involving food.

Xenofan and Maria were our first Couchsurf hosts in Greece. Both psychology students in the cosy and vibrant lake-side city of Ioannina. They were busy with studies but made time to show us around with a visit to the local produce market and a fundraising event for the immigration support team that Xenofan works with. We cooked together and planted their balcony garden with our expanding collection of seeds taken from various wwoof hosts and seed swappers. Self catering is also high on our priorities. It makes our cash go further and all the Couchsurf hosts we’ve stayed with so far have let us use the kitchen, it’s been a real place to connect and share.

We hitch-hiked (free transport) from Ioannina to Thessaloniki where we were welcomed by Spyros, a professor of political science at the university, active politician with Greece’s far left anti-euro party, writer of books on eco-feminism and public speaker on anti-facism. Spryros’ apartment was a haven for anyone interested in ism’s. Floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with English written books on everything from anarchic primitivism to eurocentrism. We spent the first evening talking about the financial situation and trying to understand what it actually meant to people on a street level. We were joined by a friend, an independent journalist and felt very removed from their struggle yet very welcome in their home. We would have liked to have spent more time with our host but he was tied up with public presentations and lectures most of the time. He very trustingly gave us a set of keys, apologised for his absence and wished us a nice time exploring the city. I’m glad we got to exchange pdf books and documentaries over lunch before we made way to Athens. You can read Spyros’ latest article for the Guardian here.

We arrived in Athens after a sleepless night train and were kindly met at the station by our host Mitsos. He had offered to come and collect us at the crack of dawn on his day off and drove us to his apartment where we met his partner Emily. This was our third back-to-back Couchsurf and we were becoming overwhelmed by the hospitality of the Greek people. We rested for a while before setting off to a beach a little drive from the city. That evening Mitsos and Emily had a family bbq and we met friends, drank home-made red wine, sat up late and put the world to rights. It felt like we had known them for years. If it wasn’t for our hosts we would have never found cafe bars in the city, making use of abandoned buildings in a sort of pop-up cafe, festival way. Emily worked in the tourist area and on our second day she whisked us round the famous landmarks and helped us get a sense of the huge city, 5m in total, half of the Greek population. Emily also worked for a theatre group who happened to be presenting a one man show of Socrates Now on our last evening. It followed a debate and brainstorm about what to do in Greece’s current “crisis”. I thought about what Cuba did when their imports were severed. Made me wanna stand up and quote Geoff Lawton – “All the world’s problems can be solved in a garden”.

Smokey Tribute – A Mix for the Masses

(IM)Permanence Film Project

What better way to welcome International Permaculture Day than switching on the computer to find the first episode of Richard, Michelle and Grace’s film project.  I have just watched it and feel totally inspired and amazed by their wonderful journey and the incredible projects that the film shares.  Thank you guys and we hope to see you on the road soon.  Here it is – enjoy…

2 Squats, a Truck and a Hostel

Whilst in Barcelona Nina and I decided that we would meet my parents on their holiday in Venice for one day. I knew at that point that it was a crazy idea but they would appreciate a day together and it was the perfect excuse to get further east. The only obstacle was 1200km and the expense of the train, boat and bus ride. On leaving our wwoof in the Spanish Pyrenees we would have to cross two borders, through France and west to east of Italy. It seemed that the most economical way would be a four day hitch hike. We’d bought a tent in Spain and had a new sense of freedom.

Amanda and Deno dropped us at a large petrol station near to Figueres, there were a lot of trucks, we were close to the start of the toll road into France. We checked out the number plates and soon realised that every other truck was either French, Italian, Bulgarian, Czech… We were in a good place to get east and so wrote out our “ITALY” sign and began to wait. We swapped sign holding every 10 minutes and after half an hour decided that talking to truckies in the petrol station might work better.

Scouring the number plates and asking the easterly nationals “Italy? France?” we were soon greeted with an “OK”. The plate was Bulgarian and we were not too sure how far in that direction he was going but we hopped in and figured that part out on route. We’d hitched in Spain before but only an hour up the road each time. Now we were up high in a truck cab and probably for quite some time. We introduced ourselves and settled in to a journey with Jorge. He spoke no English, we spoke no Bulgarian but we soon worked out that he could take us as far as Nimes in France, an hour or so from Marseille.

We were dropped at his turning off point, now starting to rain and not in an easy place to pick up another ride. We were on the highway and so started walking in search of another good spot to hitch from. We felt glad that we’d got 200km or so in the right direction but we were now a little stranded. Nobody flying past us could or would stop and maybe it was a little dangerous too. Within 15 minutes or so a highway repair truck pulled over and kindly offered to take us to a good hitching place. He dropped us at a toll. It seemed a little cheeky asking for a free ride in a place where people were paying for the road but we had no choice and so held up our “ITALY” sign once again.

It seemed like nobody would stop here, not many trucks, no number plates for other countries and not that much eye contact either. Enter Ben! A french lad who lived up in the mountains. He pulled over, told us he was heading to Marseille and helped to put our packs in the back of his van. We were soon chatting about anaerobic digesters and composting techniques. He was a really nice guy and within an hour he was on the phone trying to fix us up a bed for the night at his friends in Marseille. He made several phone calls and while we waited for a reply we weighed up the possibility of camping on the outskirts of the city – not such a nice place to stay.

We were beginning to realise that when hitch hiking we are at the mercy of our drivers.  A little faith and a lot of luck later we were dropped at the door of Ben’s friend in the center of Marseille. They welcomed us in, explained that it was a squat, apologised for the lack of electricity, showed us a room we could sleep in and then invited us to eat with them. We felt very fortunate that on such a rainy night we wouldn’t be erecting our tent in the dark!

Day two of our voyage to Venice started with a little shopping trip in Marseille ready for the unknown road ahead. We had a coffee, grabbed bread, cheese and fruit and followed the advice from the squatters to hitch from the toll road again heading east out of town. The toll looked uninviting and there was no real place to stand for foot passengers. We were asked to move to a different area on the opposite pavement by security and it seemed unlikely that we could get picked up in our new invisible spot!

To our surprise in a matter of minutes a mechanic from the airport pulled over in a minibus. He was heading to Toulon, an hour or so up the road. It was our first glimpse of the southern coast of France and we were relieved to be on the road again, this time heading towards Cannes. He dropped us a kilometre from a petrol station where we would find our next ride. On route to the petrol station, and now on foot, we spotted the fat sign of IKEA. Remembering that they had free internet we thought it was the perfect place to check our couchsurf requests for Venice.

Next to IKEA was the next petrol station we would try our luck from and we didn’t wait more than 3 minutes before our next ride. A male couple leaving IKEA with their new kitchenware. They had just found a new apartment in Cannes and were moving there from Switzeland in a couple of months. We squeezed in the back and they took us as far as Cannes to yet another petrol station. This one had plenty of trucks and we were hoping that our next ride would be from up high in another cab.

Enter Dimitri. We were sure when he rocked up in his monster truck that he was Italian. Our sign said “ITALY”, he looked Italian and he was going to Italy. We introduced ourselves, jumped in and asked where he was going. We would’ve been happy just to cross the border but it turns out he was going via Milano to Bologna, not all that far from Venice. Jackpot with a day to spare!

Dimitri was a really nice guy, he was only 23 but had been driving his truck for a few years, he had a young family back on the west coast of France and thankfully his taste in music was pretty cool too. Crossing into Italy and for the rest of the evening we cruised along listening to reggae and asking questions about one another’s lives in broken english and french.

By eight or nine that evening we realised that Dimitri’s trip via Milano was for a delivery and an overnight stop. We were a bit worried about staying on the outskirts of the dodgy misty metropolis of the Italian north but our kind lift giver soon offered one of his bunks when he realised we would be camping. We arrived in Milano, parked up and disappeared into the mist for a pint of Leffe happy that we had come so far.

The next morning we continued with Dimitri as far as Brescia where we said our goodbyes and started a new day and a new hitch. Well, so we thought. It turns out that the north of Italy is not used to hitch hikers and the lady at the petrol station had great determination in telling us not to hitch from her slip road or she would call the police.

After some shoulder shrugging and nonchalance from me we decided to give her her way and moved on. We walked for some time towards the centre of Brescia where we saw the bold blue and yellow bricks of IKEA once again. We thought it to be a lucky charm and so crossed the motorway and entered the store. There is no free internet in Italy though and after a 1.99 pasta dish we stepped outside to try our luck at the leaving customers with no room in there cars. Yep. Silly idea at Ikea. A friendly member of staff soon picked us up though and we decided to get a train closer to Venice. Hitch hiking in Italy is hard and the trains are cheap.

Next came our Youth Hostel in the charming city of Padua. It was our only option after our AirBNB and couch surf hosts fell through. We took full advantage though and spent the next day exploring the city on foot in the rain with a broken brolly we found. We called ahead to a couch surf host in Venice who said he was full but if we got desperate to call him. My parents were arriving in two days and if we were to be there to greet them at the port we had to go to Venice that evening.

Slightly put off by the description on his profile, we were not quite sure what we were getting ourselves into by volunteering to stay with “Autonomass”. His name was Massimo and he lived in autonomy. He greeted us at the station and was immediately keen to take us to a university building he and friends were squatting to be saved from sale by the skint Venetian municipality. That evening we heard the horror stories of Venice and the huge destructive problems of mass tourism. Apart from the palaces that are being sold off to make way for hotels, the second most visited city in the world is suffering from the 3 million or so tourists that flock in every month. Yes it’s true that Venice is sinking, we saw it for ourselves.

So Massimo’s main objective is to protest against the tourism industry. All the facts were undeniable. They were having a catastrophic effect on the city. It’s becoming a museum, and as the prices rise the locals leave. He was here to stay and with the help of the rest of the activist army they would be staging a protest on the water the following day. They will be in boats, about 100 of them with a sound system, tekno and fireworks. The main target – the Queen Victoria cruise ship. Yes, the one my mum and dad will be arriving on for our day together in Venice.

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Some protest pictures here

La Premier…

So here’s my go at a little documentary.  Part 1 of our Wwoof to Oz adventure.

Next stop Spain…

Bouthrarar Tabout

On leaving Marrakech we travelled for a day over the Atlas mountains south east and arrived in El Kelaa Des Mgouna, the gateway to the valley of the roses.  We passed through our original WWOOF hosts town as we’d heard nothing from them to confirm our arrival.

Part of my third diploma project involves Nina and I having a monthly travel check-in with each other to establish whether both of our needs and expectations are being met.  When we went through our list it was obvious that our journey so far was missing some vital elements – time in nature, live and loud music, being effective, exercise, some meaning and more learning and celebration.  We decided from that to head into the valley and see what we could find…

An hours minibus ride brought us to the beautiful hamlet of Bouthrarar, a collection of tiny villages on the banks of two converging rivers.  It was obvious on arrival that the locals were making good use of the available water as there were lush green fields of broad beans, lucern, wheat and clovers.  Surrounding each small plot were fig, walnut, almond, peach and olive trees.  The hedgerows are all made up of roses, hence the name of the valleys.  They are harvested in May and made into various products like rose water and soap.

On closer inspection we found that the abundance in the valley was down to careful use of water and the ingenious irrigation system not dissimilar to those in Ladakh.  Small sections are diverted away from the river upstream and held high by hand built channels.  By the time they reach the next village they are way above the crops in need and can be carefully directed downwards using more channels and small sluices which are opened and closed by rocks or soil.  The excess water then rejoins the river below.  A great design for catching and storing energy, using minimum effort for maximum effect.

On our first evening in the valley we asked our host if there was any chance we could see some of the local building techniques in action.  Our hopes of exercise, learning, meaning and community were answered in a flash when we were offered the opportunity to join the local building team the next day.  It turns out that our host Youssef is in contact with Unesco to have the valley recognised for it’s local traditions including the building practice which they call Tabout.  We jumped at the chance and spent the following week completely immersed in Berber life.

The technique involves constructing a wooden frame, ramming earth into it and then moving the frame on to the next section whilst the previous one is being rendered.  The team made it look easy but Nina and I found it pretty hard work, carrying baskets of soil on our heads up ladders and ramming earth into the frames with a heavy tool made from walnut.  I think we surprised them with our enthusiasm and I don’t think they expected us to show up for more hard graft the next day.

As the week progressed we were not only fatigued by work but also by the amazing hospitality that we enjoyed.  Being part of the team also seemed to earn us the privilege of being part of the family and we were welcomed into each and every home for the remainder of our time in the valley.  Brahim, Moha, Abd Hamane, Said, Mohammed and their families were by far the most hospitable people I have ever come across.  Each night after work, and all the following week, we ate with them, sang with them, danced with them and enjoyed the type of days off they would only normally spend with their families.

It was always midnight or later before the evening festivities of song and homemade fig liquor had finished and Abdul or Youssef would insist on walking us home.  On day ten we managed to break away from the village and enjoy a neighbouring hamlet, of course joined by one of the team who wanted to make sure we had a fulfilling experience and were safe.  From the nearby village of Almdoune, and after being taken to another families home for tea, we set off on a walk to take in one of the many gorges of the valleys.  A spectacular trek that took in not only a beautiful gorge but more picturesque villages and a magnificent kasbah too.

It was late when we arrived back to Abdul’s house and there he and his wife Sadia insisted on dressing us up Berber style for a final ho down over at Brahim’s house.  We shared family photo’s and exchanged gifts and seeds before some emotional good byes and hopes of seeing each other again some day…Inshaalah

There was no way possible to summarise in a blog what an amazing two weeks we have had with the tabout team but I have made a small documentary which will be here on the website when we come across a better connection for uploading.

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Read more about our journey and see more pictures at Nina’s blog typotraveller