I've been traveling around now for 6 months and as much fun as it is, i knew it was inevitable that my fitness regieme would suffer. Been really into fitness for years and when your at home doing your standard 9 - 5 its easy enough to make it to the gym after work. But when your in hostels and moving from place to place its much more tough.
So i've basically tried to work out in parks and do exercises that just involve my body weight to try and keep the muscles in shape and not loose too much strength. I've found these workout routines in the home workouts section pretty helpfull. Got 3 months left traveling, so 3 or so home workouts a week in a park or hostel dorm will have todo and then its back to the gym when i get home.
As a filthy scrounging student I paid up for this badboy below. The Nikon D5000. £660 was the total cost including extra 70-300mm lense, a 4GB xtreme card, a carry case and 40 prints..
Today's modern world offers a vast range on technical products and if travel writing is your thing then where better off to start with a camera.
As an amateur photographer I dont have a clue.. Maybe buying a small reasonable priced digital camera for £100 to start. I found from personal experience some of the snaps I got in Australia were incrediably sharp and colourful without the nasty makeup of photoshop. The camera was a £100 10mp Samsung.
Now I have bought the Nikon D5000.. First impressions.. BULKY! Yes it can take a fair bashing about but for immediate convience not so good. This can shoot four frames a second. It also has a built-in geotag which enables you to see the location in which your photo's were taken within the cameras GPS! Snazzy! 12.3 megapixel. What sold it to me was the ability to shoot HD 720p video, and with the added HDI slot you can veiw your videos on Tv/projector.. Impressive. Not only this but look at the rear of the camera, everyone loves a sexy arse and look at this mama.. It has a 2.7 inch screen that can be turned and swivelled in any direction, so cheesy self portraits or low angled shots become much easier! Theres also a built in silent mode so when snapping away no noise will be given, awesome for those wildlife or pervy shots!
During my "online pre-buying investigation" I spotted the latest lumix model. I saw a video box. PLAY. This state of the art was then advertised by a beautiful blonde in a classical cospmopolitan european city. She stubbles upon a quirky shot and at the conveince of lucky dipping her hand into her bag she instantly find the lumix and takes the cracking shot. (half the size of mine to!)
If we are talking digital cameras i was somewhat stunned by the new sony that takes panoramic shots. (Again a reminder- haven't the foggiest about cameras) In store I was demonstrated a shot of wembley stadium and of one in store - his shaking hand aside
the software enabled to configure the image to a crisp pencil sharp image and play backed to me in a smooth slide.
"£270 you can get next months new modal.. its WATERPROOF!" imagine the images of the Great barrier reef, a family shot underwater in a swimming pool.. incrediable.
So yeah I just so happen to have a spare £270 to spare after this- not!
So I am stuck with my nikon.. haha. Yes it is an impressive camera for the likes of the pyramids, inca trail the bloody things that havent moved for a zillion years i may just have time to lift it out, stabilise it and then take a shot.. but am ready after an impulse buy.. Its not that heavy really. I tend to over exagerate. Ha
To Do:
Must investigate further into peoples opinions of the nikon d5ooo any comments please do add!
Posted by: FriendyAnil in Untagged on
Mar 24, 2010
I went down to Seattle this past weekend to attend a Hardstyle Kettlebell Certification workshop. The workshop was held at the Kettlebility studio which is owned by RKC instructor Andrea U-Shi Chang. There were about 25 people or so in attendance and the workshop was taught by Master RKC instructor Brett Jones from Pittsburgh, PA and assisted by several senior and level II RKC instructors.
I had little exposure to the kettlebell before this workshop other than a few exercises like the deadlift, American (overhead) swing, bent over row and shoulder press. After the first fifteen minutes of the workshop, I realized that I really knew nothing about the russian kettlebell and it's true potential.
We started the day working on various breathing techniques and deadlift form then moved on to the swing and single arm swing. I was really impressed with Brett Jones and his knowledge of the kettlebell and mechanics of the body. He was incredibly articulate with his instruction and very strict with his form which I really appreciated. We learned the goblet squat after the swing and finished the day with the Turkish get-up. I thought going into the workshop that the 3 lifts would be relatively easy to learn but I was wrong. He went into such great detail with every exercise and there was so much new information to process and so many things to remember as the day progressed. Exercises
Well, it’s been a while since I last rambled on here! Have I been a lazy cow? Not at all! Months have whizzed by while I’ve been tied up with work, preparing for trips and immersed in various other writing projects. Still, absence makes the heart grow fonder! Or something like that…
So how did I fare on the Inca Trail? Aside from feeling I’d aged by about four decades as I wearily plodded towards the trail’s highest point, Dead Woman’s Pass, fine! Anyone considering following in my footsteps (not to mention those of the Incas and about a zillion other tourists) might like to check out my ‘warts n’ all’ guide for some honest advice on how to prepare, pack and cope: http://www.simonseeks.com/travel-guides/inca-trail-survival-guide-how-prepare-pack-and-cope__118868
I’ve recently soothed my ‘itchy feet’ with a cultural trip to Krakow (including a visit to the obviously grim but fascinating Auschwitz-Birkenau), but the need for an adventurous trip grows stronger by the day…
Travelled to Chitral and Gilgit back in October 2009, with a friend.
Flew on a stupid multi connecting flight - saved £50 though!! Was it worth the saving? NO!!! (Heathrow > Karachi > Quetta > Islamabad) (1 hr stops in Karachi and Quetta) Then arrived on the 10th, stayed in the Punjab - in hot sunny and sexy Sarai Alamgir! Yeeeeaaaa!!!! (Where I have some friends)
Then on the 12th flew to Chitral - what a flight!!! The views were amazing, and the first view of the Hindu Kush is quite staggering., and nice new aeroplanes too!
The Airport turned out to be as large as a branch of KFC and we had to retrieve our own luggage! How things should be!!!
We met Imran (aka Chitralguy from Lonely planet Thorntree and Flickr) at the airport, and Mr Noor the driver, and legend!! If he were English, he'd be made PM!!
After, breakfast and a browse through town, admiring the views, the quaint mosque and the beautiful old fort we registered with the local Cop Shop and made our way to the Chitral Gol National park.
Crossing over the 'Friendship Bridge' that divides The People's Republic of China (aka Tibet) with Nepal, was an emotional experience. The contrast between the two countries slaps you in the face immediately. Having been effectively herded around China by innumerable officials, once you cross that bridge you are on your own. In Nepal there are no special forces to push you in one direction and no great mass of humans to follow. So we found ourselves standing on a heap of uncollected rubbish, a cow to one side, chickens to the other, trying to work out where immigration was. A quick ramble down towards some shack-like buildings and we quickly found the immigration hut. 'Welcome to Nepal', beams the very well groomed official as he takes our passports, gives them a quick look over and stamps his stamp of approval. 'Is that it?', we ask, by now used to the third degree and thorough bag searches. 'Yep, have a lovely stay here in Nepal'. Fluent English? A smile? Great. It suddenly occurred to me that for the first time in a long time we were free to do as we wished, unwatched and unrestrained. So off we skipped into Nepal.
The contrasts didn't stop there. Nepal is the poorest country we have been on the whole trip and, though parts of China are still lost in poverty, the country appears wealthy in its infrastructure. On entering Nepal the smooth highway turns into an off road roller coaster and the houses that line it are mostly made of mud and corrugated iron. Rubbish fills the streets, power cuts occur for 6 hours every evening and lives are lived out of doors for the world to see. Consequently, everywhere you look there is something fascinating. As we bumped along for 5 hours from Kodari to Kathmandu vivid colour, penetrating noises and intoxicating smells were splattered across our senses with not a moments respite. Lush green landscapes, bright orange houses, red, yellow, green and blue saris floating in the breeze, beautiful smiles and a deep blue sky. Temple chants, cows, goat bells, cockerels, children playing, dogs fighting, water gushing and people laughing. Giant pots of steaming spices, rotting piles of fly covered rubbish, freshly ploughed fields and cowdung mingled with the black fumes from brightly painted, ancient trucks battling with the hills. The plentiful, genuine and wide open soul of Nepal was evident right from the start.
Wandering around Kathmandu is to walk back in time. The Durbar squares are labyrinths of ancient red brick and intricately carved wooden temples, palaces and shrines, all jumbled together in a space that was once a kingdom of its own. And in lots of ways it still is. Time has not eroded the purpose of these central points. Women still come to wash at the giant stone wells, old men still meet on palace steps to contemplate life, and families still gather to present gifts and sacrifices to their gods. Pashupatinath, the holiest Hindu site in Nepal, was the only place where the openness of life became a little too much. After stumbling our way through a maze of shrines, temples, cows and monkeys we eventually descended onto the shore of the Bagmati River. On the bank opposite us a dead women was brought down on a bamboo stretcher, cleaned by her relatives, covered in wood and burnt, until the ashes were ready to be swept into the holy water of the river. It was not long ago that widows would practice sati here, throwing themselves onto their husbands funeral pyres. This was considered the highest form of service a wife can provide to her husband and offered an escape from the social perils of being a widow. Our experience at Pashupatinath would have been an interesting one, but it became depressing once we explored the perimeters of the complex. Litter fills the banks of the river, meditation caves ooze the smell of urine, faeces of all varieties litter the floor and monkeys sinisterly stalk the shrines. We decided it best to make a move on catching a glimpse of a rotten dog being eaten by another on the river bank upsteam from the cremation sites.
Voss, its a place in Norway, home of sheeps head dinners, bland food and extreme sports. Every year thousands of extreme people travel up or down to Voss for the world famous extreme sports week. You don't have to be extreme to attend, and lets face it, most of the people rocking out the hoodies just pretend to be extreme. You can spot them a mile off, milling around drinking beer and talking shit. Almost identical to extreme sports people infact, its all about the shoes!!
So, Voss. If you are feeling extreme, head to Voss, well head to Norway first, then to Voss. It is situated a few hours drive East of Bergan, the rainy city. So head to Bergan, but you can get to Voss from any other part of Norway, they do have roads and trains, despite pushing on being a 3rd world country. 3/4 of the population own a tractor, the other 1/4 own the oil!! I digress!
Following swiftly on from my last post. We rocked up at a ski resort called Folkenfonna, a glacier only open in the summer. It sits not far from Voss, 2 hours drive ish, and 3 hours north of a small town called Odda. Its small and plays host to hoards of slalom skiiers rocking out the 80s lycra look! It also attracts the cool kids. So feeling somewhat out of place in the flip flops and tevas, we approach the slopes with caution! Despite 3 seasons as a ski guide in the Alps, I still felt out of place, maybe it was the fact my clothing was practical, and not loosely fitted and hanging below my arse cheeks.
Tuli in Botsawana, Southern Africa is not known as The Land of Giants for nothing. With giant boulder-strewn rocky outcrops, the mighty Limpopo River and the largest land mammal in the world - the African elephant - this vast and dramatic wilderness is a photographers dream or indeed a nature enthusiasts dream.
Posted by: RaftingCraig in Untagged on
Jul 7, 2009
'Is that the boat? I'm sure we couldn't see the boat before!' came a concerned voice from the passenger seat.
Looking up I become slightly concerned, 'It's that Fluid Solo again, its always that boat, Joe, its always Joe and his boat. Maybe we should stop, check it out!'
'Maybe we should, I'm sure we couldn't see that boat, is that the Fluid? Trust it to be Joe's boat. Why is it always Joe?'
This August I will be joining a special horde of world class riders and adventurers in the inaugural Mongol Derby, (see http://mongolderby.theadventurists.com/) a crotch-pounding 1000km race across the Mongolian steppe aboard a series of native, semi-wild and very tough horses. It makes the Guiness Book of Records as the longest horse race ever staged, and early analysis suggests it will be among the toughest.
I will be navigating, foraging, finding water for me and the neddies, coping with extremes of heat and cold, fending off wolves, washing in rivers (If i can afford to make a pit stop...), and introducing the nomads who have herded up some 800 of their precious horses for our racing pleasure to my Wuthering Heights rendition after a round or two of fermented mare's milk.
I am just back from a decent run round Hyde Park. Googlemaps says 10kms, which feels about right. The sun was still out and strong so I worked up a good sweat and thoroughly enjoyed having no watch on, no train to catch, nowhere specific to be. Tonight was supposed to be a riding night, but events conspired and I found myself in London, with, wait for it, a spare couple of hours. Lloyds had still failed to send me a new cash card after purse-theft last week, and having hammered the credit card in the interim and maxed it out completely (oops!) I was once again at a financial impasse, and, facing imminent nationalisation or stealing the money from our house kitty which is supposed to be for tin foil and loo roll, i......stole a tenner from the kitty for the train home. I felt guilty though! And it turned out that I couldn't get any horses lined up for this evening anyway. Actually, I don't mind. I am sat out on my little balcony for the first time, the herbs are looking plush and miraculously the wifi seems to stretch out here. I have just eaten my first meal not in front of an offensively cumbersome excel model since the weekend, and it tasted all the sweeter. Now clean and showered, and ready to slog my guts out all over again tomorrow- weights circuit #2....
This week has mainly been about non-equestrian reconnaissance. As my Dad likes to remind me, time spent in reconnaissance is never wasted, and there are a great number of contingencies which I can cover off right here in SW9. So, from the top....
Learning Mongolian- yes, I have been trying to get some useful language under my belt. It was recommended to me last night that I learn the Mongol for "call your dogs off!"- apparently this is by far the most useful greeting when approaching a nomad's ger, (yurt) as the advanced welcome party is likely to consist of a slavering rabid dog, trained to attack me, and no doubt then eat me and do something very resourceful with my skin, hair and teeth. So, repeat after me- "NOKHOIGOO!!"
Am currently up to my eyeballs in Def14As. For those of you uninitiated in American SEC filings, it's the really, really long one, which describes, in eye-watering detail, just how much Executive teams in corporate America are earning. I will be mostly plugging all the relevant numbers into a clever model which will spit out, hopefully before the bell goes (and the axe falls) on Friday night, whether these Free Market Titans make our client look underpaid or not. The deadline is already looking a trifle ambitious given the volume of extra-curricular stuff on the agenda, hence operation Data Monkey now.
A big weekend in the saddle, with four different rides (well, five if you include a quick guest-slot on Tucker on Sunday morning- a straw-poll of two determined that the Mors L'Hotte double bridle suited him better). I have picked up another spare ride; on account of my silky skills in the saddle on Owl, I have graduated to her very zippy stable-mate Sky, a twenty-one year old pedigree Arab who likes to party, and who piaffe-passaged round the local farmland to the amusement of her very generous owner Kate Parker.
I also had some sublime evening riding on Thursday night, just after my last bulletin. I arrived off the train to Basingstoke, where Mum had left me her car, complete with riding kit and little picnic basket of coffee and sandwich. Zipped round to livery yard where Logan, who I am stealing from Tamsin Thorne while she looks the other way and does her GCSEs, was innocently grazing as the sun set. I had a bit of a job locating the little fella as he had his fly sheet on in jousting charger style, but he gave himself away with a wary look in my direction and I fished him in and tacked him up. Church Brook Farm is a lovely yard in Tadley with beautifully manicured cantering tracks which we took full advantage of as the sun sank below the horizon. Had a bit of a moment. Ah, the romance! Snapped out of it when a deer got up and leapt out in front of us, sending Logan launching sideways and me grabbing a fistful of mane. Drove home to Local Hero theme, all was right with the world.
It's Monday morning and i have landed in a heap at my desk again, though the feeling of crash landing is happening earlier and earlier with each passing week. Over the course of the weekend I have laid waste to my parents' house in my quest to squeeze every minute of Derby training from the time I had. Here's a quick inventory, to add to my working week of Monday circuits, Tuesday x-train and weights and 9pm ride on Tucker, Wednesday 6am ride, Thursday running sprint intervals and weights. Zzzzz....
Dressage tests- 3. Wins, 0, placings, 3. Total times my mother expressed dismay at the professionals who beat us being "pot-hunters", and the judges who put us second being "in their pocket"- c. 12.
