Category: Story Of My Life
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What If You Lived In A Place Where Adventure Didn’t Exist?
It is easy to make a living from adventure in the UK. The industry is established and growing. Work opportunities are replete. Job boards are filled with placements; gear and apparel retailers are multiplying; adventure tourism has rarely been more popular. And if the idea of employment doesn’t float your boat, you can simply become…
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Three Continents, Two Films, One Book, And A Failed Expedition – My 2015 In Review
31st December 2014. I hand over the keys to my landlord, sling my worldly possessions over my shoulder, and walk through the streets of Bristol to the railway station, bound for London. Any year that begins with becoming homeless, I think, is destined to be memorable. This evening, I will gatecrash two house parties, stay up all…
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Why I Left England (Again) To Live In A Country Most Can’t Place On A Map
There is no easy way to explain how I’ve ended up living in the small former Soviet republic of Armenia. Thankfully, I now have the luxury of running a personal blog with an unlimited word count. So let me give you the backstory. (Not the full backstory, mind you. If you want to hear that,…
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Debunking The Myth Of The Modern-Day ‘Adventurer’
I’ve noticed something recently, which is that I often get referred to as an ‘adventurer’. Something about this doesn’t ring true. I’ve never used the word to describe myself – not in real life, nor in my blog’s ‘about’ page, my social media profiles, my email signature, nor anywhere else. The first time I actually…
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Why, After 9 Years Running TomsBikeTrip.com, I Started This New Blog Today
On my first night back in Yerevan after several years living in England, I noticed a book on the bedside table – a book I hadn’t seen for a very long time. It was a copy of my first travel memoir, Janapar. This one belonged to my wife, Tenny. It had a bookmark in it. English is her third…
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Selected Notes On The Unbelievable Kindness Of Strangers – And A Single, Simple Request
It was, without doubt, the most miserable night of my life. Flimsy nylon flapped in the wind. I stumbled through the snow in the fading purple of dusk, trying to anchor one corner of the tent to a pannier, another to a bicycle wheel, another to a tree branch; all the while wearing mittens designed for…
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Why I’m Not Qualified To Comment On The Armenian Genocide
So last weekend I went back to Armenia, the place around which so much of my early life as a traveller revolved. Ostensibly, my visit was to be present for the commemoration on the 24th of April of the 100th anniversary of the Armenian Genocide. Among countless others did I descend upon Yerevan to be…
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In Which I Become – Technically Speaking – A Tramp
tramp noun 1. a person who wanders from place to place without a home or job. Last night I slept rough in London for the first time. It wasn’t as bad as I was expecting. In fact, as urban stealth-camping goes, it was one of the more pleasant nights I can remember. The most difficult thing was committing…
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On The Stigma Of Homelessness And The Dilemma Of The Creative Non-Conformist
The other day I went to a birthday party here in London. I knew the host through a mutual friend in the adventure world, upon whose fringes I seem to drift. The guest-list read like a who’s who of young Brits who’d devoted themselves to exploring and asking questions of the world. It was just…
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Adventure Versus The Status Quo: Diary Of An Ongoing Conflict
I dream of another big adventure. Constantly. This is probably not something that will ever change. I believe that I am forever destined to fantasise about the far side of the bend; the life of pure simplicity engendered by being on the road with the wind at my back and no particular reason to do anything…