Back in early 2011, Imran told me he'd be perfectly happy to start a family. Out of the blue, my response to him was that it was never going to happen until I'd been travelling, and that I was going later that year with or without him. "If we go together, we'll see South America and South East Asia," I informed him. "If I go alone, I'll do the Middle East and Eastern Europe and you'll just have to try to join me for weekends when you can."
That was a bit of a shocker. I wasn't giving him any ultimatums yet I felt bad about this huge curve ball I'd thrown at him; he had no idea how to respond to it. 2010 was a year of massive change and personal growth for me - more than any of the years prior that I'd been on a ridiculously long journey of self-evaluation - and this continued to escalate in 2011; so much had happened in our private life that staying at home continuing our usual routine was no longer an option. As I said to Imran, I was leaving London regardless and I just desperately hoped he would come with me.
It took months for him to get his head around the idea. He was conservative and only liked taking risks within his selected boundaries. He'd been taught that you work hard for life security for as long as it takes and then you enjoy the rewards of that work once you've retired. All achievements for a man are based around work, a well-paid job and creating financial security for your family. He was always looking ahead to 20 years from now and doing what it took to make sure we'd be 'comfortable' THEN. It's definitely an excellent trait for a man to have; indeed security is something which females are biologically programmed to search for, which is why in modern times we're attracted to ambitious and successful men. However, although by no means materialistic or heavily influenced by the shallow culture of his work environment, he was still part of an industry that always looked for 'more.' Hell, that wasn't even just his work culture but the culture of today's society as a whole. We'd followed the rest of the populace like conditioned, thoughtless lemmings for all of our relationship. But suddenly, after a decade together, I was saying we had 'enough' of everything except happiness and enrichment on the deepest core level of our being, and 'things' weren't going to provide those. We were at a stage in life where we didn't need better versions of everything we were already lucky enough to have - be it house, car, clothes, whatever. Over the years, the most important thing to us had become health and the very best health starts with the mind. And that was the area in which we truly needed 'more.'
For several months we talked and discussed and then talked and discussed some more, until it got to the point where I started looking at flights to Syria for one. Then all the trouble erupted in Egypt with a knock-on effect in the Middle East and my plans were shot to pieces. What to do now? Imran came home one day in September with the answer. "I've quit my job," he announced, much to my total shock and amazement. "Let's leave in a month." I think that was one of the best days of our marriage. Something switched. We weren't exactly sure what but we didn't care; we knew we'd figure it out along the way. And so we started planning. We were in such a swivet.
Travelling isn't just an extended holiday: it's an education. For some of us, who have a real, desperate need to do it, it's freedom from constraints in life, be they emotional or physical, whether self-imposed or inflicted. It's a reward for years of hard work and difficult self-assessment to break cycles and change the course of your life that you once believed was inevitable; to say: "that's it, the buck stops here. I'm responsible for my own health and happiness." How much longer could I go on convincing myself and others that my life was the result of a choice I'd made to support my husband first and foremost and that it was a good, selfless thing? Such bollocks. It's a bullshit line that people who are scared to take the blame for their own choices use. (I won't say 'mistakes' because I don't believe in them - every experience is an opportunity for knowledge and learning.) There was a massive worry that I'd wake up one day approaching 50 and wonder how life had passed us by and it was only fear or laziness or willingness to be the same as everybody else that stopped us from living it earlier. As I say constantly, appreciate what you have right now before time makes you appreciate what you had. I wanted to stop thinking so much about the future; indeed, stop assuming that everything would be ok in the the years to come; that we'd be alive and well and that everything had gone exactly as we'd planned it. We were taking for granted that we'd be in a top notch state - physically, emotionally, financially - to enjoy everything later and there is never any guarantee of these things. It's all about the present. As the very wise saying goes, happiness is the journey, NOT the destination. Nobody will ever be truly content if they think 'I'll be happy WHEN... or I'd be happy IF...' Happiness isn't a goal or something to strive for. It's something that is already and always inside of us but often buried beneath a multitude of soils that prevent us from seeing it or feeling it. It's a difficult thing to accept but it really is a choice. A choice that requires a great deal of hard work and effort to deal with life's hurdles in a constantly positive way, especially when there are common stresses hitting one from all directions. But it is still a decision nonetheless. A decision to never be a victim to the bad things. I wonder if even the Dalai Lama is successful in this every day - it's certainly a stretch for us mere mortals to achieve 24/7. We can only hope we're calm and rational enough to make the wiser choices when the shit hits the fan.
There was a point in our marriage when I got so sick we despaired for our future. Struck down with health issues that were threatening to take us down a very sad and depressing path, I fought for years against my so-called natural instinct to just accept it and be a victim. Turns out I don't actually do victim well and my instinctive tendency is to be one hell of a stubborn cow and a fighter. That hasn't always been the case: at some point it was a conscious resolution I had to make. I've realised that the only hero or saviour someone can have in life is themselves. Sure, others can help or support you but nobody is responsible for you except you. And deep down, I knew that, which is why the external face never ever betrayed any signs of what only Imran and I ever knew was going on behind closed doors. It was a rough time and an Oscar-worthy 'smoke and mirrors' performance time. We were 'advised' to do things that didn't sit well with me - don't do them and you'll make your husband a widower or never be a mother, I was told. Ignore your instincts, be weak enough to be threatened by our scare tactics, doubt your own intelligence and do what we tell you because we're the ones with a medical degree.
I guess they didn't know who they were dealing with. Bore off. You think I'm going to take the advice of people who need to look at Google to figure out some symptoms and treat me generically, like I'm the same as everyone else, rather than think for myself? Nobody knows your body better than you, no matter what their education. It's been your home for all of your life, after all. We live in a world where we'd all do well to remember that and choose to listen to it rather than other people. At my yoga retreat in Portugal one day, something burst. "Fuck you all," I yelled out to nobody and everybody. "I'm healing myself and then I'm going to see the world." And that's exactly what I did. Irritatingly, the physical body is a manifestation of the emotional mind and you can't expect to treat the former without dealing with some inner demons. Damn hard work but always worthwhile in the end. Travelling was my reward. The day that Imran returned home saying he'd walked out on his job he said: "I'm in awe of you for doing something incredible; something most people I know couldn't do and the respect I have for you is through the roof. Now I want to do something that will make you feel the same." He obviously forgot I've always been in awe of him, and have respected and admired him for as long as I've ever known him. Going travelling without him would've been even harder than anything else I'd done up to that point.
It was obvious to anybody who knew me well that this trip was going to be a big deal for me. I remember talking to our friends, Priti and Nash, about what I was searching for internally. "What are you hoping to get out of it?" they asked Imran and he said he didn't know. "This is Amber's thing," he replied. "She's the one searching for inner peace. I'm already peaceful enough so I'm just gonna enjoy myself!" But he's an intelligent, open-minded 30-something about to embark on an experience he'd never had before; it was obviously going to have an impact. What none of us expected was just how life changing it was to be for him; how drastically his beliefs, attitude, priorities and interests altered. The impact on both of us has been tremendous.
When we were busy planning our travels, we deliberated about the things we could do to give each other space from being together 24/7. We expected to have arguments. Eight months later, I think we had 2 - maybe 2 and a half - disagreements in total. We just had an unbelievable amount of fun together. We were best friends well before we became a couple and this trip reminded us why and just entrenched that further. When you grow together, and in the same direction, there's no time for petty arguments because you're too busy talking all the time about your new ideas and visions. We love the same stuff and it was never a chore to be together day in day out for so long. We told each other constantly how utterly thankful and grateful we were to be sharing these experiences together and how shit it would've been if I'd done it alone. It's been a year and a half now that we've spent most of every day in each other's pockets and I really don't know how it's going to feel when Imran goes back to work.
We met so many incredible people from all walks of life and learnt a great deal from every encounter. In South America we met dozens of couples in their 50s and 60s who told us they wished they had done what we were doing now and gone travelling in their 30s before kids came along. The reinforcement of the positive nature of our decision was welcome and encouraging. We stayed in touch with a lot of people during our travels but not since we came back; that was entirely expected. The few who remain friends and who we know will continue to increase in importance in our lives are Jim and Kate, the couple we met in Patagonia who live in our local area, and Sally and JD from Cambodia. Those are the people we speak to / meet up with / Skype on a regular basis and with whom we're always making plans for the immediate future. It's about looking ahead no further than the next six months now.. and it's working out pretty well so far!
From our constant daily search for a perfect juice or smoothie, to the breathtaking natural scenery, to the beautiful local people we spent time with, to the sights and sounds of each different culture, every country had something to offer. In South America, I'd say our favourite place overall was Patagonia but our favourite country as a whole was definitely Brazil. It had everything: the nature in the incredible Amazon rainforest, the friendly people and, of course, Rio, the most fun city in the world. The diversity in Asia is too great to rate, though. We want to live in Singapore. Vietnam is such an interesting place and our time there was jam-packed. Our most emotionally evocative experience of the entire trip was in Cambodia. Nothing can beat the crazy ride that was the Laos Gibbon Experience. Indonesia's Komodo Cruise was one of the best parts of our travels. There's no country on the planet as unique as Japan. Malaysian food knocked us for six. The Muay Thai in Thailand has turned us permanently into gym addicts and we're loving it! So much seen, so much done... sometimes we talk about what we got up to or look back at our pictures and we just can't believe that's the life we were living for eight months. Amazing.
I've said this to Imran numerous times but I have to put it in writing: thank you to my greatest friend for the experience of a lifetime. Thank you for providing us with the means to be able to do this trip and for ditching everything certain in your life to make it happen - primarily for me and my desires. A more perfect partner I could never have asked for. I obviously did something very, very right in a past life to get this lucky. And I'm grateful to myself for having the idea of this trip and insisting we do it without compromise. After 13 years together, this past year has recharged us in every area of life to such a degree that it feels like we're 19 year old nippers at the start of our relationship again - better than that, in fact. And for all of our experiences we had in different countries, if we had come home saying the only thing we'd gotten out of it was that our relationship had become stronger, then it would have still been more than worth it, eh?
On that note, let's stop with all the seriousness and finish this blog once and for all with the lighthearted tone you're used to. You know all about whatever we got up to in each country - hell, the blog posts have certainly gone into more than enough detail - but Imran still likes to claim that the stories about him are made up. I counter that with the truth: everything I told you Imran did and said actually happened; I just wrote them in a way that made for a more entertaining read! You all know him well; you know exactly what kind of a mouth he has on him. And just in case you need reminding, let me bring to your attention some of Imran's classic gems I heard over the year.
Most people who travel don't generally recollect much of went on during the hours spent at the airport. The journeys to and fro simply sandwich the memorable holiday in the middle. But when your global roaming companion is Imran, airport hours become as eventful as any other time in a country. The man just attracts incidents. Let's face it, he's not exactly someone who just sits quietly and blends into the background, is he? Actually, scratch that: he may sometimes want to but he can never manage it. He walks around, looking approachable and easy going, and this combination - along with his propensity to talk before he thinks - means I'm guaranteed entertainment even when all we have to do is sit on an uncomfortable plastic chair and wait for a plane.
First there was the fact that he set off the alarms at security almost every time. And every time, without fail, he'd yell at the security people in his best Austin Powers impression, "That's just my BUNS OF STEEL, baby, yeah!"
He liked to complain about the airport FX rate a lot. Like a middle aged moaner who talks about the days when penny chews actually cost a penny (even though he doesn't want to buy or eat any penny chews), his reactions to the FX counter clerk always had me getting out my notepad to make sure I wouldn't forget his blinding one liners. My favourite one still makes me laugh when I think of the clerk's face. "I don't need any cash but I'm just going to ask about the rate anyway," he informed me. I was used to this - he did it in every airport. I think it's the trader in him. From a distance I saw him shake his head in disgust so I walked over. "How bad is it?" I asked. "How bad is it?" he cried, looking pointedly at the clerk like it was all his fault. "I'll tell you how bad it is. It's like they pull down your pants and chop off your dick." The clerk widened his eyes in surprise. "Well, you're not getting a piece of my dick, ok!" Imran informed him and stormed off, leaving the poor man looking highly flummoxed indeed.
Sitting at the gate one day, he returned from the loos and mimed an imaginary object going into his mouth held with the thumb and two fingers. "Would you consider that to be a BJ or smoking a spliff?" he asked me.
"Um.. I have no idea," was my response. "Why?"
"Because I was just offered one of the two in the toilets. Damn, I wish I knew which one!"
"Again, why? You would say no to either... surely?!"
"Damn skippy I'd say no. But it would be nice to know if he thought I was attractive or if he just wanted my cash."
It didn't stop at the airport obviously. He's a man with a gob and he's not afraid to use it. Whether he was being stopped in the street and being offered a dodgy massage or drugs, or if he was bartering with taxi drivers, he would always without fail make people crack up with his typical, charismatically straight-forward comments. I lost track of the number of times he made local guys laugh out loud, put their arm around him and cry "I love this guy!"
In Rio de Janeiro, during our long walk home along Copacabana Beach after the New Year festivities were over, I stopped at some ladies bathrooms. When I came out, Imran told me some guy had asked him if he wanted a local prostitute. The exact words were: "Eh maaaan, do you want a Brazilian?"
His reply? "Hell no, my wife says they're f**king painful! I'll stick to hairy balls, thanks."
It didn't matter if I was with Imran or not, he would still be offered women in front of me. In Luang Prabang, Loas one night, he was trying to bargain a reasonable rate for a taxi. A driver said he'd take him where he wanted to go but, with a nudge and a wink, he leaned in close and whispered "You want to have a happy ending first?" (We're pretty sure he was offering the services of a woman elsewhere and not himself!) Imran put his arm on his shoulder, leant in close himself and whispered back: "Mate, I'll have a very happy ending when you give me a good price!"
It didn't even stop when we were having massages. When these women ask if they're doing a good job, they don't really care what we think. It's almost a rhetorical question; at the very least they just want to hear a 'yeah, yeah, it's fine' and, for the most part, they do. In Koh Phi Phi, Thailand however, we were having a relaxing couples massage on the beach. I had my face in the hole and I was soothed by the gentle music and the sound of the ocean. My lady asked me if the pressure was ok. "Yeah, yeah, it's fine," I mumbled, even though it was a bit on the hard side. But it just felt like too much effort to explain that. I heard Imran's lady speak up.
"Scyooze me, sir; you like this pressure?" And his loud retort:
"I think the question should be, with that pressure, do you not like me?"
I started pissing myself in my hole. The poor Thai girls had no idea what he meant and giggled uncomfortably before getting back to business. Nothing had changed in the brutality of Imran's treatment so after another few minutes, he asked: "Seriously, woman. Do you know I'm a banker or something? 'Cause it seems like you really f**king hate me."
Aah, he certainly has a way with words.
In all of the countries we visited, there was prejudice about skin colour. We were considered too dark to be wealthy which was fantastic because it meant weren't bothered half as much as most tourists. When any local asked us where we were from, we would say India without hesitation. The visible drop in their smiles was hilarious; an obvious judgement on their faces that we wouldn't have much money and they were better off hounding the 18 year old backpacker with blonde hair. In Asia, the whole concept of skin colour and the desire to be as fair as possible was noticeable everywhere. God forbid I ever wanted to buy myself a little pot of your average Nivea in a shop: there were only ever skin whitening creams on sale. The idea that being overweight is a good thing because it means you're rich enough to afford food is still apparent here, too. Being darker skinned AND slim - wow, we looked so poor that we were just left alone and able to blend in for the most part!
There was a massive contrast between women in South America and SE Asia. The former are strong, powerful, large in stature (and certainly size in Brazil) and commanding of respect. SE Asia though, is a continent of giggling girls. Don't get me wrong, I think feminism goes too far at times; men and women SHOULD act differently when it comes to certain things. But here, there were times I just wanted to scream 'Get some bloody girl power!' at them. It's ok if a Western chick smokes a cigarette. It doesn't make her a promiscuous hussy who's 'asking for trouble.' It's right if a Western woman complains about local men treating her like shit; the native women could learn a thing or two. But sexism is alive and well in Asia. The increased amount of respect I received just by the virtue of being married was quite bizarre at times. It made me glad to be British. There are some things I just love about our culture at home.
Nine months later, it's good to be home. We've changed a lot. We know what we want, what's right for us, and which attitudes and opinions we wish to spend our time being surrounded by. What we have in common with others and what we don't. Life always looked so perfect on the outside. It never was. But now it looks that way because it actually is - the reason being that when it's not, we have the tools to find the perfection in the imperfection. Who would have thought that a mere eight months of travelling could have such a deep and profound effect on our perspective? I guess it was because we didn't just go away and 'see' a country; we weren't ticking boxes of visiting tourist attractions and coming home with those things ready to cross off on a list. We wanted to invite change in ourselves and having the same habits or being the same way but just in a different location wasn't going to achieve that. It's hard to explain but we had to really 'be' and throw away all of our patterns, beliefs and judgements, and anything else that could give us any tiny little stress or annoyance that one inevitably encounters in foreign countries, so that we could learn what we needed to from the experience. It was an incredible year; so full of fun, excitement and laughter and exposure to new things daily. The diversity in people, environments, cultures and behaviours was bewildering at times but we've come back with a million stories to tell and, more importantly, many memories of the best year of our life together. The greatest thing is, this is only the beginning. There's a big, wide world out there and a new adventure in each place, and we plan to enjoy as many as possible.
Thank you all for taking the time to read this blog and be so kind with your feedback. We feel really blessed to have friends in our life who are interested in what we do and I'm glad that people seemed to enjoy reading my mammoth posts as much as I enjoyed writing them. On a personal note, this blog has been the first thing I've written that I've allowed my friends to read in many, many years and your positive words have boosted me no end. Thank you so much for that. Just so you know, I've got a new blog coming soon. It's a food one (so don't worry, you won't be subjected to posts that take an hour to read!) but it's gonna be a good one so sign up when I hit you up with the details in due course! And on that note, this one is done with. These boots were made for walking but they've been put away for a while. S'ya laters, peeps.
"The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page." St. Augustine
PS: The fro came back to London in tip-top shape. It went to Vegas and received lots of attention from the ladies. It was cut off and then grown again because the chicas just loved it that much and Imran enjoyed the attention no end. If you were lucky enough to see it in the flesh, then you know that 'as long as the music stays hot and important and good, there'll always be a reason for the soul train.' For those of you who never got to see the live version, here's the final souvenir from our trip.
