August 8, 2007 by dunny.

Last you heard from us we were in Istanbul, Turkey.  Right now we’re in Bukhara, Uzbekistan.  I’ll try my best to be short and sweet about the miracles and disasters in between.

We woke up in Istanbul and made our way around the city, hit the black market and such, then jumped in the car determined to make Baku, Azerbaijan in one go.  Andy wrote a killer blog about this stint but we couldn’t get internet access to post it, so as soon as I get Jane Barker to email it to me, we’ll get it up.  Suffice it to say the drive took 44 hours.

That put us in Baku.  We had rolled through Georgia and been completely awe-stricken by Tblisi, and then traversed Azerbaijan, which is by far the dirtiest and most corrupt place we’ve been.  We were stopped repeatedly for fake violations and asked straight-up for bribe money (talked our way out of some, compromised with others, hated all).  We got into town and found Jane’s apartment and called her, then waited on the corner until she could take us to park and pass out.

The plan was to wait on Driving Miss Daisy and Wrong Way Round who were supposed to go through Turkmenistan with us.  They were more than a day behind, though (we can’t all drive for 44 hours solid).  So we were stuck for the time being at Jane’s place, much to the dismay of her roommate Caitlin.  They were very welcoming the first night, but as we were waiting for our convoy and trying to catch up on sleep over the next 2 days, our welcome ran out (somewhat our fault for getting so used to foreign hospitality).  Many thanks to Jane for being awesome, you rock!  And many thanks to Caitlin for being nice the first night that I unfortunately have to take back for the lectures on manners and repeated inquiries to “What have you accomplished today?”  But hey, we don’t hold any grudges.  It’s not her fault the bug up her ass has a stick up its ass.

Feeling the pressure to get moving, I ran down to an internet cafe one night to try and find other teams in Baku and found out there were about 10 teams down at the docks waiting on the ferry.  So we were off.

Down at the docks, we were trying to buy ferry tickets but ended up last in line.  The guy told us there was room for the car but no room for any more people, which makes complete sense in Azerbaijan logic I guess.  We talked him into it though, and along with all the other teams spent the night in the parking lot within the DMZ drinking 6 bottles of vodka we bought for a total of $10.  Some slept in cars, I slept on the hood of the Chariot, and Andy passed out on the concrete with no pillow.

Up the next morning for all the customs, which I handled since Andy was still running around hammered.  We got on the boat and were put in one of the crew member’s cabins with the guys driving the ice-cream truck.  The ferry left around 11am and got to Turmenbashi at 2am…but another ship there forced us to anchor a few miles off-shore until about noon.  Then we stood around on the boat waiting to get our passports back until 3pm.

Now comes the time when I tell the tale of something far beyond cultural clashes.  The customs office in Turkmenbashi is an alternate reality altogether.  The ten teams pulled up and sat waiting for about 4 hours.  When they finally started processing our papers, the adventure began.  I’ll try my best to get everything in the right order…

First you go to a lady to pay for your visa and the car entry ($64 per visa and $150 or so for the car).  She fills out a series of carbon-copy forms without using the carbon-copy and makes you sign each one.  This takes roughly 1 hour per person.  You then take those forms to register the car, where a man fills out a form in block letters and draws your route on a map.  Then you go to three guys who write the same details about you and your car down in different logbooks…one of the guys asks you if you like Turkmenistan music, then asks you if you like sex, then shows you tiger beastiality.  After that you go to another room where a guy wakes up from his nap and writes down the same details again.  Then you go to another building and pay a Chinese woman $1.  Then you go to another room in another building and pay a guy and try not to make eye contact with the two guys laying on the bed smoking opium and holding hands.  Then you go back to the first building and pay Miss No-Carbon-Copy again.  Then you get your visa.  Then you have to find the “Little Man” to open the gate for you, but he says you’re missing a form.  You go back and buy this form only to discover you already had it.  You show him and he runs in and argues with the officials for a while, then finally you’re out the gate.

All told, it took 12 hours for all of us to get through customs, and that involved absolutely no checking of car contents.

I should mention that we were only allowed to enter Turkmenistan with a guide, and since our convoy was way behind we teamed up with some others who went through the same company: Hobo Logistics (Canada), Team Shadowboat (Maryland), and Team Saskatchawan (Canada).  Our guide was a Turkmen fella named Jabbar, who spoke 5 languages and was previously a doctor (translators make more money though in Turkmenistan).  We crashed that night in Turkmenbashi and drove the next day to Ashgabat, the capital.

Surprisingly enough, Turkmenistan was an absolutely amazing country.  I’ll leave all the researchable details for yall (or ask me later), but Ashgabat was like Vegas with a curfew.  Everything closes at 11pm except for a couple discoes.  In fact, you can’t drive anywhere outside the cities after 11 or its assumed you’re up to something and you’ll get arrested.  So we kept our desert driving to the daytime and spent the nights in Ashgabat at the discoes (stories from these will be shared later).  We saw the biggest market in Central Asia, a couple historical sights (old cities destroyed by Genghis that they have just begun excavating), and more oddities than I can list.  I wish we could have sat and posted while we were there, but internet has only been allowed in Turkmenistan for less than a year, so it’s pretty hard to find.

We left the country yesterday (after more completely random forms and payments) and made it to Bukhara last night.  We’re now in convoy with Hobo Logistics only (they text in progress to the Mongol Rally website if we can’t get internet for a while).  We did a little car maintenance this morning and plan to head to Tashkent today.  We’re basically trying to work our way through Uzbekistan, possibly Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan, and Russia over the next 6 days so we can hit Tsagaanuur, Monglia on the 14th and have 5 days to cross the Gobi Desert.  We’ll update if possible, but I have no idea when or if internet will be available.

Thanks to those who expressed concern for where the hell we were.  As always though, it’s not to worry.  SkipLizard moves on (with new Sultans of Awesome, the Hobo Logistics team, who were 4 but are now 3 since one was called back home).  Pics and stories to come of Wolfgang, Wiederman, Carl Tuvan, and the departed Aiden.

Keep puttin up awesome

Skip, out. (SkipLizard Homepage)

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July 28, 2007 by dunny.

SkipLizard doesn’t give in when the going gets tough.  We rise to the occasion.

Our water pump went out in the middle of the night just after we had crossed the Romanian border.  We refilled the radiator with water at a rest stop and made it about 30km further to Cluj Napoci when the Chariot went into the RED.  We stopped at a gas station and started stretching so we could fight those bitch bolts.

Keep in mind…our tools are shitty.  Beyond worthless, really.  Long story short, there were two huge bolts that we couldn’t get off and had no chance of getting off.  All that happened was us standing on the car grunting and sweating and tugging until finally we gave up and passed out sitting up in the car.  Yup, in the gas station parking lot.  With truckers staring at us.

Up the next morning and had a few more bouts but figured all we were doing was bending the engine screws so we went off to try and find a mechanic.  Put the beast back together and found one just down the road, but he was too busy to help.  He just gave us a few hints and sent us on our way.  At least he spoke English.

Back to the gas station parking lot only to find yet another bolt we had no chance at.  So we pissed around and got bitchy with each other, put the beast back together (again), filled the radiator up and added some sealant and kept driving.

At, the next town we got to we pulled off at a garage immediately and found some dudes to help us (they had real tools).  We got the new pump in and got the Chariot humming like new.  We haggled over a price and eventually gave him some American bills and had him sign the car.  AND…get ready for this…the town is called Turda.  We got our turd of a water pump fixed in a town called Turda.  Awesome makes the world go round.

Right, so we were off to Transylvania.  I think the biggest surprise of the trip so far was how absolutely amazing the Romanian countryside is.  It’s absolutely gorgeous…sheep everywhere…cows walking in the road in the small towns…horse-drawn carts everywhere…we were in awe.  We made a quick stop by Bran Castle (Dracula’s place) and got back on the road.  Being a day behind, we had to hurry and get to the Black Sea coast in Bulgaria and hit the beach.

That meant another drive all night event though…much tougher this time though because the Bulgarians invented an alphabet that uses numbers and stars and exploding mushrooms to represent sounds.  We got lost immediately after crossing the border and had to navigate back to our entry-point (Ruse) using star-naviagation.  I’m not joking.  We went back north to the border using the North Star b/c our compass doesn’t work.

Right, so some time around 5 or 6am Andy started hallucinating and imagining people and bodies in the road and had to take a couple road-side naps.  I eventually took the reins and got us to Varna on the coast to meet up with Nick and his Bulgarian lady, Lili.  Had to hit an internet cafe then a pay phone to wake the lovebirds up at 9.  Lili told us where to meet and we bounced around that crazy beach town and finally got a cabbie to lead us and got out of the SJ.

We had a couple beers and some pizza and hit the beach.  After a quick swim and a few peaks at all the topless women we passed out in the sand in legendary fashion.  A 3 hour nap never felt so good.

Had showers at Lili’s grandma’s place there in Varna then headed north to Golden Sands to some friends of Lili…Svetla and his chick whose name I won’t even try to spell…who were staying at Svetla’s grandparent’s cottage in the hills overlooking the sea, with an outdoor kitchen and a case of beer with 11% alcohol.  Had dinner and hit the town nearby, and since we didn’t have to drive through the night finally we just drank a bunch of Tequila instead. 

Woke up at 2pm wondering why we were still drunk and went back to the beach.  Spent the whole day there admiring more and more gorgeous women and gold sand and blue water…then had a quick dinner…and were off for Istanbul.

We’re here now, safe and sound and marvelously happy.  I’ll save the tale of the 11 hour drive along the Bulgarian coast for Andy…partly because I’m exhausted, but mostly because I never want to speak of it again.  Sorry for the delay in posting, apparently we caused a good panic back home (and Andy couldn’t help but post about breaking down since we didn’t get the chance when it actually happened)…but if you learn a lesson here, it’s that we will not fail.  We will not be held down.  We will not succumb.  All we know is awesome.  Sit back, take a deep breath, and marvel away at the fact that we have now covered 10 countries and 2500 miles in 6 days, met more badass people and had more wild experiences than we may have ever had, and ended up in an Executive Suite at the Hilton with a balcony overlooking Istanbul that was given to us for free (thanks again Lisanbes).

Starting today, comfort goes downhill fast.  But that means the fun goes up.  You thought the awesomemeter was in the red up to this point?  Just wait my friends.  Baku, Azerbaijan and Jane Barker are next on the list…we’ll be there either tomorrow or Monday and it may be until then that we’ll get internet.  But no worries folks.  SkipLizard finds a way.

Here’s to being awesome.

Skip, out. (SkipLizard Homepage)

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July 24, 2007 by dunny.

We hit the road from Prague yesterday, headed to Budapest, Hungary for the night.  The drive was going fine and dandy…we were about 5 miles from the Czech-Slovak border and pulled into a gas station (so as to not spend ANY money in Slovakia…4:1 on the dollar apparently…how I’ll never know).  We pulled around back to eat our hot dogs as Andy expressed his bad feeling about the upcoming border.

Then up comes a Police van followed by two big Mercedes Paddy-wagons.  They blocked us in, walked over, and basically said since we didn’t have an Autobahn sticker on the car we had to pay a 200 Euro fine or go to jail.  What do you do?  You play dumb American.

Back and forth we just pretended we didn’t understand what the hell they were talking about…except we weren’t really pretended b/c we had no earthly idea what they wanted besides money.  Finally one of the cops pulled out a cell phone and called what we think was a friend that spoke English, so Andy jumped on and played the charity-rally-we-just-didn’t-know card while I schmoozed the cops some.  Long story short, we convinced them to just let us buy the Autobahn sticker and go with no fine or arrest or sever beating.

Hit the border, went straight through Slovakia, spent about 10 seconds in the corner of Austria, then into Hungary.  We found Budapest, knowing only that our hotel was somewhere on the northwest side of the river.  Then we realized Budapest has 3 rivers and follow the trend of not labeling their streets.  Oh, and let’s not forget, our water pump went out about 200km ago and we were overheating.

We got as close as we could figure to where we were supposed to be, and I ran into a Radisson and asked directions.  We were 2 blocks from our hotel.  Dumb luck?  Nah, pure brilliance.  Akos (pronounced Aakosh) and Leonel checked us over a few times to figure out why to hairy grease monkeys had an executive suite, then fell all over our story and drew a big Hungarian flag on the car for us.  Thanks fellas, yall rock.

Fell asleep quick after showers…staying in the nicest hotel room either of us has ever seen (thanks to Sam & Moni Lisenbe)…up this morning to figure out the next step.  Andy ran downstairs and found an off-license taxi driver named Zoltan Lukais (sorry if we misspelled bud) who called all his buddies and eventually found us a water pump, to be changed later today at some rest stop.  The guy even loaned us the cash for the part until we could find a machine…welcome to the Awesome Club homeboy.

On the way to the place, the taxi passed 4 Rally cars who immediately recognized Andy’s devil beard and screamed “Why the hell are you in a Mercedes?!?,” to which Andy yelled “Our water pump burst!!  Why yall here??,” to which they said “We’re lost!!” to which Andy said “The river’s that way!!”  The Party never stops people.

We’re fixin to head out…going to Transylvania today to hang with Dracula and check out Bran Castle where Vlad the Impaler once lived.  We’ll probably camp somewhere in the woods so sit tight until Thursday or Friday when we can get some Internet again.  As always, keep puttin up awesome.

Skip, out. (SkipLizard Homepage)

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July 23, 2007 by dunny.

Not much internet time, so I’ll be quick.  We woke up Saturday morning and threw our gear in the Chariot with about 45 minutes to get to Hyde Park (in the heart of London) for the Rally Launch.  It took over 2 hours.  London is ridiculous.  It’s a fantastic city, but if you ever drive there after reading this post it’s your own fault if your head explodes.  It got to the point where people we asked for directions would give us different answers for something 3 blocks away…we went the wrong way down a one-way and rana bunch of lights completely by accident…we even drove through Buckingham Palace, but sadly, Andy wasn’t on his game and the Queen turned him down.

Now, as for the Launch…that 2 hours may have been the most fun of all time.  We rolled up to people cheering and screaming, parked, checked in, decorated the Chariot, and got interviewed/filmed but loads of people (including the Discovery Channel).  We screamed and hollered, ran around like wild men, made last minute changes to our route, received a bunch of goodies to bring to CNCF in Mongolia, and were off.

We made it to Prague at 3pm local time.  We drove for 24 hours straight.  Here’s how it went down…

We left the Launch and worked our way back out of London and down to Dover to catch the 6pm ferry to Calais, France.  That went without a hitch, and the ferry was badass.  We saw the white cliffs of Dover and had a pint and met more Ralliers.  Once in France, we went east.  That was pretty much the extent of navigation, as we had no map of Europe and only a zoomed-in printout of the meeting place in Prague the Rally Honchos gave us before we left.

***Disclaimer…the next paragraph is not for youngins***

We stopped for gas somewhere in France.  I had just dozed off and Andy decided to try and keep from doing that again, so he went in and bought the dirtiest French porn magazine he could find and was on his way out to lay it in my lap and take a bunch of bribery pictures.  Luckily, my bladder intervened and I was in the restroom.  Now say what you want about the purchase, but like many things we’ll own on this trip, it basically turned into currency…

We went through Belgium, which was celebrating its national holiday.  We pulled in for gas again in Brussels and the parking lot was like a huge party.  We parked up and got to talking with some people, and up walks this dude in a jail-bird costume named Bart.  He was carrying a bottle of wine and said he had to trade it for something else.  We were digging through all our crap trying to find something worth contributing to a bachelor party, when Andy grins and reaches down and pulls out the porn.  They screamed, we screamed, pictures were taken, and Bart and his bud Steven signed the car.  To whoever says we’ll miss out on culture by driving right through countries, I give you Brussels on their national celebration.

Then we drove across Germany.  Yup, right across her.  We went through Frankfort and Wurzberg and Nurnbern, then the highway ran out.  So we were lost somewhere in the Southeastern German countryside for an hour or so, then found the other side of the construction one mile away from where it ran out.  Whop.  Then off to the Czech Republic chugging energy drinks (called “Ex,” some natural Kombucha energy drink the Rally Honchos gave us…it’s completely awesome) and trying to maintain sanity.

We pulled into Prague and we were hallucinating.  We were exhausted.  Well, we were also in a major Eastern European city with no map, address, or understanding of why they have words without vowels.  We basically just drove towards “Centrum” under the assumption that meant “Center” and found the middle of the city.  Prague is amazing.  It’s got cobble-stone streets and more historic looking buildings than anything I’ve seen.  We eventually found directions to the bar where the Rally Party was going to be, then found someone who spoke enough English to give us directions to our hotel, and crashed for a while.  We woke up around 8 and headed to the Rally Party, had a couple burgers and some beer, and walked around the city until 3am.

The wildest part was seeing all those people we saw in England.  Everyone was exhausted.  It just doesn’t matter.  It’s like everybody here has known each other for years.  Imagine having a chat with two people from New Jersey while on a ferry from England to France, then getting in a car and driving 800 miles to Prague, going to a bar and talking to the same people about the crap you encountered on the way.  Awesome…in every way possible…

…and that’s just Day 1 in Europe people.

We’re fixin to walk around Prague for a spell then it’s on to Budapest, Hungary.  I’ll try and put up some pics in the next post.  Keep putting up awesome, folks…you know we will

Skip, out. (SkipLizard Homepage)

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July 20, 2007 by dunny.

We got so caught up writing about Master Theobald we haven’t even written about London yet!  Holy Hell!!!

After the “barbie” with Steve, we drove into London to meet up with Stevie and try to relive some of the Chicago glory of years past.  Tuesday night was reserved for collapsing from the meat coma the Theobalds so gloriously gave us…which extended long into Wednesday.  That night we walked around the Thames and had some meat pies and a few pints, saw some London sites and ended up in a Jazz bar that apparently used to be a public restroom.  Yup, just our kind of place.

Thursday night got a little out of hand…in an awesome sort of way.  Long story short, we went to a boat bar reminiscent of a Louisana floating casino, only 1/18th the size and no gambling.  We had one last fish and chips and a few more Guinies waiting for the New York crew that ended up with Master Theobald the night before, and ended up in an American themed nightclub with a band that played everything from The Killers to Rage covers and danced and drank and played good-cop-bad-cop up to the point when Andy got thrown out…just like being back home I reckon.

Friday we rousted and got cooked breakfast by Stevie’s little brother Andy (yeah these name similarities are confusing us too) and did all our last minute shopping, AND…..dah, dah, DAAAHHHHHH…….found the post office and picked up our passports and international drivers permits!!  After 1000 miles in South England we actually have passports and legality for driving.  Fantastic.

This past evening we graced the official Rally Launch Party at some cleared out warehouse and shot it with a load of other teams, like another New York team we may end up with in Romania and Bulgaria for a few quick climbing excursions…turns out they’re filming for MTV and we may end up in those end-of-the-hour news recaps or some shit.  Oh, and Young Osbourne was there for a spell.  Great.

Now, as for London.  They don’t label streets.  The streets never run parallel.  You enter highways only in spots you absolutely don’t want to.  You ask directions and the person is usually Polish.  Driving in rush-hour puts Houston to shame.  Bold statement indeed.  Whatever.

The mass transit is completely awesome.  I guess that goes for all of England, but you can be anywhere in London and get to somewhere else 10 miles away in no more than 8 hours.  Sport a cowboy hat and you make conversation with whatever streem bums you want…it’s like being a celebrity that nobody really loves but would kill to talk to.  It’s about 4am here and we have to be in Hyde Park by 10 to get ready to go…after a pawn shop stop for a golf club and some paint pens for the Chariot.

Look, London is busy.  But it’s a blast.  We may be country boys but we can roll a city like nobody’s business.  Smarter men wouldn’t do it hours before they have to drive from London to Prague in a day, but dadgum we could go home now and say we had an adventure of legendary proportions.  Smarter men wouldn’t preface the adventure of a lifetime with an exhausting romp around southern England worthy of a college-time summer backpacking trip either. 

Live in the moment people.  Lay worries to rest.  Appreciate every seond you have and you’re bound to meet people who expose you new places and ideas that you never imagined, people who make you realize more about yourself and your beliefs than you’d ever discover in a work-dinner-TV-party-work rotation.  You don’t have to go around the world to do it…just open up to the people around you and be aware of every moment you live and watch the good karma roll in.

We are going around the world though.  Phase 2 starts tomorrow.  Stay posted my friends…the adventure truly begins now…

Skip, out. (SkipLizard Homepage)

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July 16, 2007 by dunny.

Scenario…you’re driving down a two-lane road on the western coast of England in a pitch-black, fog-to-the-waist night in England…trying to keep up with a a van that’s doing 55 down said road, which by the way has replaced road shoulders with 8-foot bushes…your only beacon is the tail lights of the VW camper screaming around the turns and getting smaller as each bend passes…you’re driving on the wrong side of the road…you’ve lost all sense of direction long ago…and you only hours before learned you were going to DEVON not DOVER.  What do you do, my friend?

That’s right…you be awesome.  Steve Theobold sold us our SJ and happily took the role as our mechanic a little over a week ago.  He housed us.  He partied with us.  His lovely wife Liz has fed us.  Then he told us we were going to the beach with him and his mate Alan.

Let me tell you about the two new Ambassadors of Awesome.  You’ve heard tale of Steve and his Pops and their garage and lines of fantastic old steam cars.  You haven’t heard tale of his fantastic yellow camper van and laid-back, adventurous spirit that tops even the skiplizards.  And let’s not forget Master Alan.  For the Austin folks, he’s Arthur in about 20 years.  We go to the beach…he knows where to park free.  We hit the beach-town…he knows not only where and when to be, but is recognized by roughly 97% of the people there.  We surf…he doesn’t stress a lesson, just gives us a quick pointer and right quick we’re standing on the board in a huge wave.

Alright…events recap.  We followed these dudes to Woolacombe Beach in Devon on the southwestern coast of England.  Take any ski town in the States and multiply it by a factor or two of cool and you’re there (and I know exactly how bold that statement is).  We rolled up Friday night and ran through a couple bars, then the night-club and had a completely badass night, closing shop in Alan’s camper and taking turns drifting in and out of the spirit world.  Wake up call Saturday was to the people staring at me and Andy passed out sitting up in our SJ and off for a heavy English breakfast of bacon, sausage, eggs, baked beans, and tomatoes. 

Then we surfed.  Surfing rules all of awesome.  I’m hooked.  Andy’s bruised, sunburned, and hooked.  Wrap that up with a sunset so orange that Syracuse ducks down in shame and a nice little jam session in Steve’s camper and you got a hell of a day.  Nevermind the pub and birthday party we got to crash, or the locals we conversed with, or Steve and Alan introducing us around as the Texans who are here to drive to Mongolia…a night for the ages.

Should I mention we drove back to Malmesbury Sunday, sold our junk car, found out we had an article written about us in the local paper, camped, drove back down to Haslemere, worked more on the new SJ, then had a night with the local Irish bartender who is so awesome he deserves his own post?  Nah, I should leave Andy something to write about.

This is why you travel.  You meet people that appreciate your adventure and are truly interested in who you are and your reasons for living.  You meet people who aren’t afraid to open their house to you, to bring you boozing, to show you their beaches, to philosophize with you, to brag about you, to make an effort to know you.  You find kindred spirits in places you’d never even heard of before.  You make an ass of yourself as they do the same,  and suddenly you’ve got friends as close as you’ve ever known…and stories to make them look like idiots when you introduce them at your next meeting.

Oh, and they took us to Stonehenge.  You know, no big deal.  It was on the way.  People only plan entire vacations around it.  We stopped by and parked on the road for free and took in the scenery.  A Wonder of the World, just for the hell of it.

Just like SkipLizard.  A Wonder of the World.  But completely worth it.

Skip, out. (SkipLizard Homepage)

PS…quick note…there has been a slight level of concern expressed regarding our partying ways.  Let this be an official reassurance that any money donated to us has either been routed to the charity designated by the giver or put directly to our Rally expenses (car, fuel, visas, border-guard/bandit bribery funds, etc).  All extra-curricular expenses are out of our own pockets.  And livers.  We can’t be sorry for being awesome

PPS…we now accept anonymous comments.  If you aint got the minimums, do it that way.  Whatever.  Just start talking.  Send us all that positive energy and Texas spirit.  Props here for Andrew and Abra Telly and Shane and Tasha for being regulars…remind us we’re dumbasses so we don’t get too cocky on some Uzbeki border  when we get stopped for sand surfing off a tow rope on the car hood.

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July 12, 2007 by dunny.

No doubt the trip thus far has been wild and already an adventure of a lifetime.  I don’t know that we could imagine having more fun, meeting more interesting and generous people, or challenging ourselves in such mental, emotional, and spiritual ways.  We’ve been inventive and charmed as well as unlucky and a bit daft along the way, and we’re nowhere near the real challenges of our journey.

Folks have asked how we’re able to stay optimistic and focused through the blips we’ve had, and why we’re constantly harboring such an “Aint nothin gonna hold us down” attitude.  It’s the same reason we got into this mess in the first place.  Christina Noble.

Here’s a link to Christina’s book Bridge Across My Sorrows on Amazon.  She writes about growing up in absolute poverty in Dublin with an alcoholic father and sick mother, then living on the street by herself and eventually being sent to Industrial School.  She was raped and beaten.  She later moved to England and married a man who may not have drank like an alcholic but certainly abused her like one.  A dream about street children in Vietnam eventually led her there, not fully knowing what she might encounter.

One moment stands out as the point when she knew absolutely that she would dedicate her life to helping the street children of the world.  She saw two homeless Vietnamese girls in the park across from her hotel one afternoon.  At first glance they appeared to just be playing in the dirt, as kids often do.  Hesitantly, she approached the girls and as she stared at them, an ant crawled across the younger girl’s face.  Without flinching the girl slapped the ant and put it in her mouth.  They weren’t playing in the dirt.  They were grubbing for ants to try and avoid starvation.

If you’re interested in the reason we’re here in the first place, read this book.  Although the book was written before she got involved in Mongolia, the street-children epidemic in Vietnam is interchangeable with that of Ulaan Baatar, Mongolia.  Ultimately, our mission is wholly charitable.  The journey we’re on, while fun as hell, is extreme so as to draw attention to a situation we all may never otherwise understand.  While we skimp by on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, there are children digging for miniscule ants for a meal.  While we curl into sleeping bags in tents to keep warm, there are children hugging underground sewage pipes for warmth.  While we are occasionally glared at here in England, there are children who run to the streets to escape abuse and molestation in their own homes.  They may end up stealing, protistuting, and going to torturous Soviet jails before all is said and done.

To those of you who have donated to our causes already, you’ve made more of a difference than you’ll ever know.  To others, we don’t intend to motivate by guilt.  We simply want you to recognize these kids, whether or not you ever encounter them, as people like us…capable of anything given the opportunity.  If you have the means, consider a donation, that’s all we’re asking (SkipLizard CNCF Page). 

I encourage you all to read Christina’s book.  If for no other reason, you’ll read about a woman who knew nothing but pain, adversity, and loneliness and has managed to touch lives a world over.  You’ll also better understand the deeper looks Andy and I will undoubtedly have in our eyes when we get back.  Spread love friends.

Skip, out. (SkipLizard Homepage)

P.S. We started a web album for pics and will try to update it regularly.  Here’s the link: http://picasaweb.google.com/rydunn1/