Gyeongju, South Korea: 29 September - 1st October, 2009

As soon as I arrived in Gyeongju I made haste to the Bulguksa temple in the nearby mountains, a 20 minute bus journey away this temple is supposedly one of the most spectacular in all of South Korea. The temple was quiet and serene which made a refreshing change from those I’d visited previously. The most impressive features of the temple were the intricate wood carvings in the ceilings and the incredibly detailed artwork which had clearly been applied with much care and attention. There was an interesting rock garden tucked away behind one of the temples where literally thousands of small rocks were neatly arranged into small piles.

From this temple it is another short bus journey to the top of the mountain and the Seokguram grotto. The view from atop the mountain is impressive and looks down upon the valley and the meandering river which splices through the landscape. The real highlight of the temple, however, is the large granite statue of Buddha, considered to be a tour de force of Buddhist artistry the world over. Indeed, it is grand and extremely detailed, surrounded by various other carvings of the 10 bodhisattvas (disciples). As with every other temple papping is not allowed, so all my photographs are poor and blurry hipshot efforts (thanks wikicommons for the photo). A brilliant experience; standing at the top of the mountain overlooking the beautiful scenery while one of the most revered pieces of Buddhist art in the world sits a matter of feet behind you is enough to drive a man to enlightenment.

On the second day in Gyeongju I decided to take a hike around the various cultural sites surrounding the heart of the city. The city itself is typical of South Korea, but much less Westernised than Busan, and the architecture away from the city centre has preserved its traditional heritage with pagoda style roofs and tiled fences.

The first ports of call were the various Tumili parks; giant mounds of grass which house the tombs of various Shilla kings and noblemen. These bizarre yet tranquil mounds are akin to the Egyptian pyramids, and while on the outside these are nowhere near as impressive in terms of scale or design they still leave you with a sense of awe. One such mound is open to the public and gives a sense of the design; essentially a giant igloo made from sand and rock, but still requiring plenty of skill to ensure they don’t collapse in on themselves. Around the park wild chipmunks scurry amongst the trees, and some bizarre black squirrels roam for nuts.

Across from the main Daereungwon tombs lies the oldest standing observatory in Asia; Cheomseongdae Astronomical Observatory. A small cylindrical building constructed from granite stands unimposingly in the centre of a park, but to think that this is the place where thousands of years ago (7^th century) some of the first organised Asian astronomers gazed upon the stars gives one a satisfying insight into human and scientific history and our obsession with the skies. Again, as with so many historical sites, the observatory was undergoing restoration and was surrounded by scaffolding and netting, which meant no decent photographs, grrrr.

Wandering past the observatory and through the surrounding flower gardens I came out at Anapji pond; a manmade pond from the Shilla period which had recently been drained to reveal various archaeological artefacts which were extremely well preserved. Apparently, for centuries no one had realised that there once lay a grand complex on the sight built by a Shilla king thousands of years ago, but since discovering the artefacts there has been a concerted effort to restore the pond to its former glory. The pond is calming and very zen, but until the complex is fully restored it will probably resemble more of a building site than an impressive piece of history.

Further up the road is the National Museum, which luckily for me is free entry until December, hoorah! The biggest draw of the museum is the gigantic Dharma bell, reportedly the largest in all of Asia and legend tells of its chimes being heard over a 3km radius. The rest of the museum is rich in artefacts, particularly from the Shilla period, but also dating back to the Neolithic ages. It was certainly worth a look to see the various pottery, jewellery, armour, weaponry, figurines, tools and masonry scattered about the museum.

The final leg of the hike took me along a tree lined street with golden fields of wheat flanking both sides and the imposing volcanic mountains in the distances Appreciating the view with nothing but the sound of your feet hitting the road is certainly one of the best experiences I’ve had in Korea. Watching the dragonflies wizzing about from flower to flower as a variety of elderly Korean women plied their produce at the roadside had something very Asian about it. I reached the Bunhwangsa temple after about 30 minutes and paid an incredible 1500 won (75p) for the very little that was on offer. The main draw is the short 3 storied pagoda which is unusual because it is made from stone rather than carved from wood. It was certainly different, and I did enjoy the walk so I was pretty satisfied.

Another 30 minute walk home and it was time for a beef bowl (with chilli), some kimchi (includes chilli) and two unprepared chillies on a plate. All finished off with a slice of chocolate cake (no chilli).I was planning to go to the Andong mask festival tomorrow but it has been cancelled to prevent the spread of swine flu, gutted! Instead I shall be getting the bus up to Seoul a day early and taking in the second largest area of urban sprawl in the world!

Jeju Island, South Korea: 27 - 29 September, 2009

One hours flight from Busan lies the ‘honeymoon’ island of Jeju (or Cjeju), a volcanic wonderland rich with stunning natural beauty. Unfortunately, as with Busan, the Island has succumbed to some seriously poor design and architectural choices as hotels seem to have been erected without care for the surroundings. As I arrived late in the afternoon I jumped in a (expensive) taxi and travelled from Seogwipo across the island to the famous lava caves, supposedly the largest network of volcanic tubes in the world. The taxi ride itself was an experience as the driver chewed on his gum as if he had a speakerphone in his mouth while overtaking around blind corners and frequently driving on the wrong side of the road at ridiculous speeds. I managed to get to the caves unharmed where only 1km is open to the public due to the frequency of collapses in the rest of the network. The cave itself varies in size from 23m high to 2m at its shortest and at the end of the walk stands the largest volcanic pillar in the world at a towering 24ft high. While the caves are dark, dingy and wet, they are stunning at the same time. The sheer force required to carve through the rock makes you truly appreciate the ferocity of the natural world, and to think that theses caves were created more than 300,000 years ago during a time when the human race was still in its very infancy.

While on Jeju I also visited the impressive waterfall complex, one of which is the only waterfall in Asia to fall directly into the sea. The waterfalls, although not large, are still mesmerising to watch as the water tumbles over the volcanic rock into a deep blue pool which washes straight into the sea. I had intended to climb up Mt. Halla but I didn’t have the time, nor the energy if I’m honest. Instead I decided to mosey on down to the harbour for some snap. As I embarked on my journey I was chased by the owner of the hostel I was staying in, Kevin, who said he had something to show me. He informed me that today was the opening of a new bridge which connected the main island to ‘bird’ island and there would be thousands of locals at the ceremony. We wandered down and sat on the seafront, chatting away about football and how much Koreans dislike Lee Chun Soo because of his ‘sneaky ways’ (good job Dave). There was a brief fireworks display and then I became the first Westerner to use the newly built bridge and step onto bird island! The walk itself is brief and too dark by night, but I imagine it is better in the day. The bridge itself is rather impressive, with light projected on the main segment in different colours giving it the image of a luminous sail standing tall in the middle of the sea.

Kevin then invited me for a ‘quick’ drink at a local Korean pub where we sat discussing a number of things including politics, religion, education, business and marketing while chewing on some kimchi (cabbage and chilli). One drink turned into 5 or 6 and by the end of the night I was more inebriated than I had ever been in my entire life. I proceeded to vomit as soon as I got back to my room, some of which was almost an exact recreation of Mat’s centurion effort which went all down the wall. Having to get up at 5:30 did not help the situation and I felt like I was about to die when my alarm went off. I hurriedly grabbed a shower and packed my things, leaving behind traces of dried kimchi and rice in the cracks of the floor. Nice.

Busan, South Korea: 25 - 27 September, 2009

After a tortuous 4:30 start I wearily boarded the Shinkansen from Osaka to Hakata port where I hopped on the JR Beetle to Busan, South Korea. In comparison to its Japanese equivalents Busan is a dump. No thought what-so-ever has been put into designing the city centre, or the rest of the city for that matter. Tall concrete buildings line the street with neon lights and Baskin Robins on every corner; this is not necessarily a bad thing when the design has been carefully thought out, like for example in Tokyo. Uneven pavements, the persistent smell of sewage and the Korean affection for spitting in public only add to the gritty unwashed feel of the second biggest city in South Korea. The first day was spent recovering from the early start and settling into my hostel dorm where a group of rowdy Germans proceeded to barge in at 2 in the morning and wake everybody up. Although, one plus side of the accommodation was the hilarious Korean rendition of Dust In The Wind by Kansas.

On the second day in Busan I went to the Beomeosa Temple which was by far the busiest one I have visited on my travels thus far. Walking along the leafy path leading up to the temple some bizarre traditional Korean music boomed out from the trees and echoed through the forest. Upon entering the temple I was greeted with the bizarre sight of what must have been at least 1,000 women all dressed in pink shuffling up and down the almost vertical stone stairways. Queues of women intertwined leading to various monks who seemed to be signing books of some sort that all the hordes of women were carrying. At the very height of the temple what appeared to be the highest ranking monk was greeting visitors with gifts and blessings while various television cameras whirred away close by. Unfortunately this made it very difficult to make my way around the temple and even more difficult to take photographs. The temple itself was neat and tidy, but not comparable to those I’d seen in Japan. By the end of the visit the music had changed to rhythmic chanting which, coupled with the surrounding beauty of the forests and streams, created a very striking aural and visual experience.

The end of the day was spent at the impressive Haundae beach, easily the jewel in the crown, or more accurately moth chewed beret, of Busan. I had heard stories about more than 50,000 Koreans adorning the beach during the peak season, however, I was lucky enough to see the beach on a beautifully sunny day just after the on-season. Much more thought has been put into the beachside development; tall elegant buildings and corporate offices line the street running parallel with the beach and there is a pleasant park on one side which is home to a wooden walkway along the cliffs. This provides stunning views of the beach and the tidy little light house at the top of the park provides a panoramic view of the bridge to the South East, a satisfying way to end my time in Busan.

Mini Update

It has been a crazy hectic week of temple visiting, sushi eating, arcade stomping, shrine worshiping madness. I simply haven't found the time to update my blog, I would say I'm sorry but I don't regret a minute of it. From sipping whiskey in the New York Bar on the top floor of the Park Hyatt to dipping my feet in a rooftop spa at the base of Mt. Fuji.


Over two thousand photos to sift through and six days of blogging to catch up on... hopefully to be updated gradually over the next couple of days (if i find time). If not then rest assured I am safe and well (other than some serious foot ache from walking) and enjoying exploring all the delights that Japan has to offer.


Sayonara for now!

Yapaaaaaaaaan!

It is official, the trip has begun and there is no more turning back, no chance of a Mog style non-committal flaky reversal of actions. Touch down on the start of the first leg... Yapan!

As expected the flight was terrible, made even more miserable only by my inability to use chopsticks as the indigenous Japanese fellow next to me fought back the laughter when he saw me cutting up my noodles with a knife and fork. Amazingly, upon landing, I was able to bundle my way through the airport train station and catch the right train to Tokyo central. The quiet calm of the Narita Express train was broken when switiching to the hustle-and-bustle of the Yamanote line and standing shoulder to shoulder with the Japanese locals.

One of the first things that strikes you about the Japanese is their affinity for surgical masks. On the plane, the trains, and just walking down the street people don their masks like it's an every day part of life, somwthing which is just so bizarre to the average westerner.

My first port of call was the Oak Hotel in Ueno, supposedly a 'mild' Tokyo district. If this is mild then i fear for what Shinjuku will be like. Advertising, everywhere. The signage adorns every street corner, every building, every bus and train, everything has advertising space on it. It's an overwhelming visual assault on the senses, but, thankfully, there are quiet retreats which intersperse the bright lights. Parks, pagodas, and traditional Japanese culture side-by-side with modern bustling Tokyo - and this is what makes Japan so amazing.

Ueno Park is a prime example of tranquility amongst chaos. Winding wooded paths conceal hidden pagodas, statues of heroic Samuri, torii gates, shinto shrines and expansive museums. You can look one way and see the imposing statue of Saigo Takamori, look the other and see the bright panorama of Asakusa-dori. Brilliant.

Once you work up a thirst there is the experience of ordering Japanese food. This really is a challenge when you have no grasp of Japanese of Kanji. Point, and nod. So I pointed to a tall glass of dark liquid with ice in it; coke, surely. Apparently not, not unless you take your coke with sugar and cream. Yep, iced coffee. A sign of the adventures yet to come....

Sayonara for now!

Adios

Well, the time has come to depart the Motherland for the next 9 months... and I am not the least bit prepared.

In less than 8 hours I will be setting off on the first leg of my epic journey which will lead me to Japan, Korea, China, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Malaysia, Singapore, Australia, New Zealand, Thailand, Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam.

At the moment I am nervous and, to be honest, pretty sad that I'm leaving my family and my house behind for the next 9 months. I don't feel like i've had enough time between doing my dissertation and rushing for holiday essentials to actually say goodbye properly and contemplate on what actually lays ahead.

To all those I am leaving behind, I love you. (The picture at the top is just for you.)

Money, money, money, its mildy amusing.

I’ve recently been looking into sources of finance for my impending ventures. One of the problems with a multi-destination trip is the variety of denominations which are required to survive in each country. These include the Yen, Won, Yuan Renminbi, Ringgits, Baht, Dong, and 6 different forms of Dollar. That’s +1 to Europe’s single common currency I’m afraid (sorry UKIP voters, I’m sure there are many advantages to cutting ourselves off from the largest trading bloc in the world - just look at North Korea as a shining example of a self-sufficient nation).

Cash is clearly not an option – it’s not insured, most bureau-de-changes offer shocking exchange rates, and I don’t have a wallet big enough to carry that sort of moolah. Travellers cheques bring with them similar disadvantages - despite the fact that they can be replaced if lost or stolen,not only do you get a shocking exchange rate, but the bureau-de-change commits daylight robbery by charging a conversion fee of a few percent.

All that leaves is plastic.

If you’re not careful choosing the right credit card then these can be the most expensive method with interest repayments and loading fees soon spiralling up. However, if you pick the right card and make sure you pay the bill on time each month, credit cards will give you the best value for money on foreign purchases. The best two cards for the job are the Santander Zero and the Post Office credit card, both of which offer 0% interest on foreign purchases and give you the best possible exchange rate! However, they do charge interest on cash advances whether you pay your bill instantly or not. Providing you pay off your debts promptly each month the rate for Santander is 2.045% and 2.008% for the Post Office card, however the Post Office card also charges 3% on all cash withdrawals. If you don’t pay off your cash advances each month then the interest repayments will dwarf the benefits at a.p.rs of 27 and 24 percent respectively.

For cash (which is still king in many Asian countries) the best option is a Nationwide Flexaccount debit card which offers the best exchange rate, 0% on cash withdrawals in Europe and 0.84% worldwide. However, a debit card, unlike a credit card, is NOT covered for incidences of fraud or business insolvency – in this case your money is gone, for good.

Armed with this information I set out into each branch to apply for my preferred plastic.

Firstly Nationwide, who were incredibly reluctant to offer me a card after I mentioned that I wasn’t currently in employment. After telling me that I needed to have regular payments going into the account (which is total bullshit by the way, they just want you to use their account as your main one but there is nothing requiring this in the terms and conditions) they said I was ineligible for a card. Knowing this to be total tripe I informed the young salesman that I currently had significant savings with his organisation. At this point he finally caved in and reluctantly gave me the necessary paperwork. Unfortunately, this was to be a recurring theme throughout the day.

Next, Abbey. After asking for an application I was given the V.I.P treatment and introduced to my new ‘personal financial advisor’, how nice. My PFA continued to give me the supportive treatment, telling me how great Abbey is and how concerned about my welfare they are. After 10 minutes of reassuring sales patter we finally got down to the questions. “Are you currently employed?” As I pursed my lips to respond I could already begin to see the disappointment fall across her face as she realised she’d just wasted her best lines on a financial hobo.

Tail tucked firmly between legs I ventured to the Post Office in hope of reprieve. This application was significantly shorter and straight to the point: “Do you earn more than £8000 a year”. “No? Goodbyyyyyyeeeeee.”

Apparently you can’t get any credit without first accumulating some debt. It doesn’t matter about the value of your savings, the number of years you’ve held an account with the company, or you earning potential. This is the first time I’ve really felt the bite of the credit crunch.

Luckily for me, my kind, wonderful, beautifully radiant mum offered to put me as a second cardholder on her new Santander Zero card. What’s that? A free and seemingly unlimited source of finance in my inexperienced hands?! This rounds on me!

A taste of things to come.

I haven’t even departed the country and already I’ve managed to balls something up. If this is a precursor to events I can expect on my travels then I better prepare myself for missed flights, forgotten passports, and misplaced luggage. That’s right, I forgot my final appointment with the nurse. My scream of despair must have been audible for miles and I can’t even describe how annoyed I was with myself. The excuse I gave the receptionist was laughable: “I’ve been out of contact and need to ‘rearrange’ my appointment.” Never has an excuse so vague been believed by so few.

No doubt similar situations will likely arise during my trip, regardless of how well organised I am. I need to learn how to take such mishaps in my stride and make alternate arrangements – at least this was a good dress-rehearsal for that. Luckily, I managed to get an appointment a few days later and my course of vaccinations wasn’t disturbed by my collinder-like memory. I think an appointment book/diary/personal assistant has moved up the priority list. Those interested apply within.

Mogi 'Two Jabs'

I ventured up to the local doctors yesterday to get my holiday vaccinations sorted. There was a young kid in the waiting room with a pretty horrendous nose bleed, but his parents were keeping him calm with the promise of a fresh McDonalds and coronary heart disease when he hits 40. Watching that crimson waterfall splash down his porky little face provided little comfort as I contemplated the impending horrors. My previous experiences with inter-vein penetration had been mixed.

Firstly, there was typhoid. I was 10 years old.

It wouldn’t be an embellishment of the truth to say that the syringe was equivalent to a bicycle pump and the doctor was practically wielding it like a 12 gauge shotgun. Needless-to-say, I fainted as soon as the toxic concoction spilled out into what felt like my bone marrow. However, as if the embarrassment of fainting wasn’t enough, my Doctor proceeded to watch with contempt as my ragdoll body plummeted towards the corner of his over-sized mahogany desk in what can only be described as a dress rehearsal for the 2006 World Cup final incident between Zidane and Materazzi. After reawakening an indefinite amount of time later I was swiftly ushered out with a swollen skull, a sore arm and a glowing reference of my immense courage and bravery. Personally, I would’ve preferred the more traditional compensation of a lollipop.

Then there was the Hepatitis vaccine; a different animal altogether. Usually when I imagine a scenario which involves me with my trousers around my ankles and a woman in a nurse’s outfit bearing over me, some form of economic transaction has taken place. However, in this instance not only had no money traded hands, but the nurse was fully qualified, she was holding a real syringe, and my mum was sat in the corner with a concerned look plastered across her face. I didn’t fully understand her concern until I felt a sharp and immense pain which was akin to a poorly trained field medic attempting to remove shrapnel from my right cheek. Ouch. I’m not even going to bother elaborating because the puns about little pricks and my rear end practically write themselves.

The only other time I’ve had a mishap was during a bizarre moment of madness in which I declined the offer of anaesthetic in favour of feeling every inch of a cannula wriggle into me like an earthworm on acid burrowing its way through my circulatory system.

Considering that both typhoid and hepatitis vaccines, along with rabies, are recommended for my trip, I might be forgiven for being a little nervous when I heard the harsh screech of the Tannoy instructing me to proceed to the nurses office for testing.

It turned out the nurse was actually quite friendly, maybe even a little too friendly. As she prepped the hepatitis shot and asked me to pull out the twins, I was both relieved and a little disappointed to hear that my trousers were staying on. Then, all of a sudden, she pounced like a stealthy ninja. Initially I thought that was just the primer, a shot to calm me down, to sedate me before Dr. Mengele turned up to do his worst.

A few moments past... I still felt alert and there were no Nazi war criminals bursting through the door. I asked if that was it; apparently so. One down, six to go and I was feeling optimistic about the rest until the nurse couldn’t figure out how many more appointments I would need. I pointed out that I had six injections left and, contrary to rumoured fact, I only had the two guns at my disposal, which means three more appointments. Bearing in mind that I was relying on this women to a) give me the right vaccine and; b) give me the correct dosage, her nervous laughter didn’t fill me with confidence.

As I got up to leave the nurse suggested I bring my wallet with me next time. My momentary excitement was crushed when she informed me the money was not to slip into her garter, but to pay the £90 fee for the rabies shot. Fortunately (perhaps not the most appropriate choice of word), vaccines for typhoid and hepatitis a and b are free on the NHS because they’re still common diseases in the UK – so you’ll be glad to know your hard earned has gone someway to funding my trip.

In one weeks time I shall be returning to get the second round of jabs. Messrs Truth and Justice are primed and ready. Bring on the typhoid.

You know what they say about the guy with the big feet...?

...He has a big footprint.

A footprint consisting of 8.33 metric tonnes of CO2, to be precise. That’s roughly the size of the carbon footprint I’ll be leaving when I jet off around Asia, and that figure doesn’t even take into account any internal travel. To put that into perspective the average car emits around 5.2 tonnes of CO2 per year, and the average British household around 6 tonnes.

So what was my airline willing to do to help me slip into a smaller sized loafer, other than cut off my toes?

One concept which you may have come across, particularly when booking flights, is the notion of carbon offsetting. This can come in three general forms;

1. Investing in greener energy sources. This usually means investing in the development of wind farms. It’s debatable whether you’re actually offsetting anything here because the net effect is still negative, that is, your flight will still pump x amount of CO2 into the atmosphere while the wind farms don’t remove any CO2, only reduce our reliance on fossil fuels (by a negligible amount).

2. Investing in carbon capture projects. This involves preventing emissions, usually from cows (they emit an incredible 300bn litres of methane into the atmosphere every day) and land fill sites, from entering the atmosphere. This methane can be turned into liquefied natural gas which burns much cleaner than fossil fuels, but the energy required to transform the gas to liquid might undermine the benefits.

3. Planting Trees. This is perhaps the most popular scheme. The idea here is that your airliner will plant x amount of trees in order to offset the proportion of the flights total CO2 emissions which are directly attributable to you. There seems to be a lot of confusion about the actual benefits of this method, but a little science lesson can teach us how this process works, and draw attention to some of the common misconceptions.

The process of photosynthesis uses the energy from light to convert CO2 (plus water and nutrients from the soil) into oxygen, water and organic carbon compounds such as carbohydrates (i.e. glucose), which are then stored within the cells of the tree. Cellular respiration is the process of converting this stored glucose and oxygen back into energy (which the plant uses to grow), water and CO2.

This means that it takes at least a few years to realise any net benefit from planting trees as the by-products of photosynthesis and cellular respiration initially cancel each other out. However, as the tree grows it begins to store increased amounts of glucose which are surplus to the current energy requirements (much like how humans store fat). The critical thing to remember is that excess CO2 is stored in an organic compound which can only be maintained in living cells. The stored glucose will revert back to CO2 as soon as the tree dies and begins to rot. Therefore, the net effect on CO2 levels of planting a tree is zero.

At a basic level we should think of CO2 as being redistributed rather than permanently transformed, and this seems to be a common misunderstanding. In order to benefit from this method it is vital to manage forests effectively to ensure that the number of new trees being planted is greater than the number which are dying or being deforested.

The second misconception regards the immediacy and scale of the effects. There is an interesting interview with Andy Harrison, CEO of EasyJet, in which the interviewer, George Monbiot, raises an important point - 1 ton of CO2 saved today is the equivalent of 10 tonnes of CO2 in the future. Over a 40 year life span the average sub-tropical tree will absorb around 650kg more carbon dioxide than it will emit. So that 1 tonne of CO2 you emit on a single flight will affect the planet for 40 years before the two trees you plant finally offset it, and by this time the damage is already done.

So in my case, for example, I would probably have to plant around 123 trees to offset the effects of the CO2 emissions (rather than simply offsetting the numbers). Now consider the number of flights which an airline makes in one day and you’re talking about a biblical amount of trees! Armed with this information it becomes apparent that offers to plant 5 or 10 trees to offset our carbon footprint are simply insignificant token gestures. It’s so important not to be taken in by the spin of the corporation because they’re essentially green washing their activities to ensure that you feel satisfied you’ve done your part for the planet. It prevents any type of consumer activism which gives them a license to further avoid regulation and continue to maximise their profits at the expense of the planet.

It also fuels the misconception that by simply planting 10 trees we can offset the carbon footprint of our cars or houses and by doing so we are doing everything we can in the battle against climate change. Somehow, by planting a tree we are morally absolved for our wasteful actions and disrespect for the environment. Unfortunately, it just isn’t the case.

What I’m driving at is that we shouldn’t consider planting a tree as the silver bullet for climate change. We should, however, utilise carbon offsetting in tandem with reducing emissions and regulating the emissions of big business, while continuing to encourage the development and use of greener technology.

So what am I going to do to rectify my carbon footprint? Well none of the options are exactly toe-severingly drastic. Maybe a swift pedicure is in order, I'll have to run a hot bath and think about it... or go and sit in the car with the engine running, I'm easy.

“What motivates you to travel?”

This is a question I frequently come across on the multitude of travel guides that have graced my monitor over the past month, and it got me thinking about my own reasons – aside from my passion for ridiculously ambitious pursuits and unjustifiable spending sprees.

I’ve been in the education system for almost 19 years, but the final curtain will fall on this chapter of my life when I hand in the final dissertation for my master’s degree in September. Providing I don’t fail in an epic manner, of course.

As I enter the twilight of full-time education a little wiser, and disproportionally poorer, the even scarier prospect of employment looms over me like a sinister figure ready to welcome me into his arms before crushing whatever youthful exuberance remains. It dawned upon me earlier in the year that I desperately need a break from the pressures that full-time education places upon you, despite being told numerous times (mostly by my mum) that you don’t get a break in the real world, whatever that is. It was this kind of incessant rambling that made me realise I probably won’t have the time for anything other than a long weekend break to Hull when I finally plunge into the world of work.

As I plan and research my trip my level of optimism is taking a serious hit, but I’m still grasping to the deluded belief that organising, funding and partaking in a pan-Asian tour is somehow less stressful than reading online journals and putting some fancy formatting on a word document, which is essentially what a degree is for those not in-the-know.

Having decided that a break was needed the next port of call was the location. I’d already discussed with Kirsten the possibility of visiting her in Australia for an extended period of time and this seemed like the perfect opportunity! The original plan was to go in November during the Aussie summer holiday (I know, those crazy ‘roo loving bastards!) and come back for my tickertape parade/graduation in January. However, the best laid plans of mice and men oft go astray, and at around the same time murmurs amongst the Leeds posse about potential holiday destinations began to materialise. Reykjavik, Prague and Stockholm were just a few of Ben’s usual pitches, but having wanted to visit the land of Japan for a while now I threw it out there like a crumpled McDonald’s bag out of a Nissan Micra (only four people will get that reference, but those are probably the only people who will read this so…).

To my surprise Jim jumped straight on the bandwagon and we went about planning the initial stage of the trip. We thought we’d better ask Mat and Ben but didn’t hold much hope as Ben was busy at college and Mat has stringent selection criteria. After much procrastination both men stepped up to the plate and decided to brave another two weeks together, clearly in denial about the horrors of the Australian trip not twelve months earlier. Deciding to go to Japan in September meant that I could add to my trip by travelling around the rest of Asia before embarking on my journey to Australia and thus the plan evolved from there.

There was one more factor which influenced my decision to go to Australia - In 2008 I ventured with the above three friends to Queensland on the East cost. We stayed in Brisbane and Mooloolaba before journeying to the incredible sandy beaches of Moreton Island. The holiday stood in complete contrast to my current plans and the traditional treks across the expansive outback or road trips down the East coast. It was, in fact, an incredibly luxurious stay in one of the most beautiful parts of the world which has such a wealth of things to offer the curious traveller. The problem was that the group didn’t really fall into that pro-active group of travellers. Don't get me wrong, it was never my intention to spend every waking minute exploring the sights of Queensland or to break the bank with extravagant excursions, but it was a little depressing that we sacrificed some once in a lifetime opportunities to visit places like Fraser Island, especially considering we’d travelled 10,000+ miles to get there!

I guess this time around I didn’t want to have any regrets. I know it’s impossible to experience everything in a lifetime, never mind four months, but I’m hoping to redress the oversights of the last trip and grasp what might be my final opportunity for an epic journey before the realities of job hunting and becoming a productive member of society start to weigh on my mind!

Well well well...

The simple man from Sheffield is ready to don his trusty cap and gaming band, check-in his inordinately heavy suitcase and head out to the far East for an adventure Beyond the Rising Sun.

Star jumps all round then.