Thoughts from category: gav saw this

what gav saw next

It's great having Gav back


The other week, he gave away the book he'd just finished reading.

And this week while out driving round London in one of our grassy vans, he spotted this to add to his photographic archive of turf transportation.

Grass impostor

Imitation is always the sincerest form of flattery.

Even in the world of astroturf.

gav came home


So the idea was that our Gav (on the left in the photo) would go off around the world and post interesting things on the blog whenever he saw something, erm, interesting. It worked for a while, but in the end we only got three posts out of him. Still, mustn't grumble, especially when we got this excellent and slightly moving email from him a few days ago:

The last time I sent one of these [emails], was about 5 months ago, and took you up until the end of my time in the monkey sanctuary in Bolivia. Since then I have been through 9 more countries, and now I land in Heathrow in 29 hours.

The trip has given me exactly what I wanted it to; good memories and hilarious stories. Some of these involve monkeys and condoms, or cycling, and how I HATE cycling. Some are of bus rides, some of pooing. One is of having to sing the first verse of Hotel California with my brother at a village wedding in Northern Laos. Some are emotional, some are not emotional, and all of them have found me some life long friends, many acquaintances, and a sprinkle of tosspots. I have slept in airports, park benches, on bags of corn in a truck and even a beach club i was at for two good friends' birthdays. I have learnt to surf, fish, make b***s, tshirts and 'mania' as the spanish call them, as friendship bracelets just doesn't sound as good.

What I have discovered, is not much different from what I knew when I left. I want to grow old in London. I want to grow old with all of you. The point of the trip was to give me time to stare out of bus windows for a year, and have a good think of what I want to do when I get home. I think it's going to be sandwiches. And muffins. And cookies. And brownies. All in a little cafe, somewhere in London, called the [name protected so no-one nicks it before Gav's had a chance to set it all up]. It will take me a few years to get there, but expect to taste the 'getting there' on a very regular basis.

As for me as a person, I still dress like sh*t, my hair's a mess, I cannot lie to save my life, and I still think I know it all. Although I don't know how to make a coffee, or bake, or ride a motorcycle, but starting tomorrow, I'm going to rectify these holes in my worldly knowledge.

See you all this weekend, my first real weekend in 10 months, or sometime during the baking week.

Gav sent that to all of his friends and family, and we asked him if he minded us posting it up here. He said yes, so we did, because it made us feel good and reminded us that we'll be very lucky to have him back in London, scheming away, planning the opening of his cafe.

Welcome home Gav.

the grass is always greener...

...on the other side of the planet. Spotted by our Gav on his travels, in Christchurch, New Zealand. Looks familiar...


Meanwhile, Steve saw this one in Italy. A whole vehicle made out of leaves and twigs. Definitely something to aim for.


gav's got far

Our Gavin has now made it as far as Bolivia.


Here he is with a beard, his bearded friend George, and a fruit salad smoothie with yoghurt and a biscuit, in the first place in Bolivia he found that do smoothies.


And here's a zebra in the middle of the road in La Paz. La Paz seems to be teaching its residents the meaning of their newly painted zebra crossings, by employing someone in a zebra costume to dance across the street when the lights turn red Gav tells us.

He's just started working at the Inti Wara Yassi organization in Bolivia. Expect more updates to come.

juan the cartonera


Our Gav is on his travels and is sending us the odd thing of interest now and then. Here's something from Argentina:

"Meet Juan, a cartonera from Buenos Aires. He works from 8pm until 2am recycling every night. There are hundreds of these guys around the city going through rubbish bags separating the plastics from the metals from paper. Juan deals mostly in white paper as the value is higher. He gets through a whopping 80kg per day.

Some cartoneras are joined by their wives and children, and through my western eyes it's sad to see whole families rummaging around in other people's rubbish. But it's a means to an end, and helps the environment as well. And on a local level, it's invaluable to a city where recycling isn't exactly compulsory."