Cape Cod and the man with the bendy guitars

We left JFK airport and straight into the urban New York traffic. Thank the world for SatNav, we would never have found our way towards Boston without it.

As we headed North into Connecticut along Interstate 95, the colours immediately hit us. All kinds of Autumn including almost scarlet bushes lived up to all we had been told about New England in Fall. But it was noticeable how more advanced the Autumn was even an hour further North, as more bare trees appeared and the colours calmed. Let's see what we find when we reach Maine.

After getting used to the car, traffic and roads, we started wondering where to stay, and took a detour to Cape Cod. Both of us felt we knew the words Cape Cod since we could remember, but couldn't say exactly why. Later, theories like "scene of the film Cape Fear" were dispelled but at least we knew it was a place Bostonians went for vacations.

We ended up in Hyannis at the aptly named Cape Cod Inn. Standard USA Motel is the best description. As we walked around the town, Nicki said "I feel like I am in the TV" as we felt like this town was like 100 others we had seen in movies based in USA. All the buildings were old-style but new - it did resemble a film-set.

We walked along the cute Main Street and stopped at a music store, "Kelley's Guitars". Inside we saw some very odd shaped guitars, and the owner of the shop (strangely called Gene) came out and explained them to us. He talked at us for about 30 minutes about the guitars, real -estate buy-ups, the lost lease of his shop and his past history of being an architect and selling his business to pursue his love of music. Upstairs he had a studio where he taught autistic children music, apparently a unique way to get through the barriers of the condition.

But those guitars fascinated us. They were bendy! The builder is a guy called Leo Burrell, now 78 and retired. He came with a unique way of making guitars which twisted the shape without losing acoustic accuracy to mould to the player's body instead of the guitar player having to match the shape of the instrument. As he talked, a musician in the store was playing one of the models and it sounded fantastic (although the frontage of the shop reverberated as they played - no wonder the new owner wanted to knock it down!)

As we walked further on, we talked about what kind of place to sit and have a drink. Nicki's idea was to talk to local people and get suggestions about what to do and where to go - I said "no problem, as long as we don't go to Irish bars - they are all the same and you feel like you might as well be in Amsterdam or London in them". Then we see a nice place and go in - it's called the British Beer Company (BBC for short) No Irish pubs for us, then...

As we sat at the bar, we saw a guy eating what looked like a 2 foot wide pizza, it was just huge! OK, we know America is famous for large portions but this seemed ridiculous. It was explained that they had a 2 for 1 offer today and people took the leftovers home. We promptly ordered 2 smaller pizzas, 1 to eat and 1 to go - plenty enough for us.

We ended our day with a walk along the remaining part of Main Street. We saw a beggar and after walking past with our spare pizza underarm, felt a bit guilty and went back to offer it to her. She answered "Thanks, I already ate one". Obviously we weren't the first with such guilt pangs. It seems in Cape Cod, the beggars can be choosers...

Boundaries stretched and crossed

When I was 6 years old, we lived on a housing estate in Kent, UK. 100 metres from my front door, there was a bridge over a rough little stream, and that was the boundary my parents put on me. I was allowed to play around the block of houses that we lived in, but I was not allowed to go up the street any further than The Bridge.

I needed no further motivation. One Saturday morning, my parents picked me up five miles up the road. Unbeknown to them, I had been stretching that 100 metres further and further over the past months. It felt perfectly natural to cycle away and lose track of time exploring.

As time went on, I pushed my boundaries further. The next shock for my parents was to find me secretly taking the train to London and wandering around bookshops when I had told them I was going for a cycle ride nearby. The best feeling for me then was to be somewhere I hadn't been before. It's a thrill that still lives with me.

This drive to be somewhere and do something new has followed me ever since. Moving country and living in Holland and Vienna was all about pushing the horizon as wide as possible, to see more and be more. Little wonder, then, that when I returned to Amsterdam and reigned in my horizon to the known big skies of Holland, I felt something was missing. Maybe my sense of adventure had been stifled by a perceived need for safety and familiarity. It simply did not suit me.

The blessing of the life-challenge last November – stay in Amsterdam or go one step even further back, home to UK with my job – caused an instinctive reflex not to go back or backwards just yet. And the year that has since passed feels like it has been leading to this moment.

Because today, Nicki and I take our boundaries and throw them to the winds. I write this sitting next to her on a plane to New York on Day 1 of our 145 day adventure. Our Round The World tour will take us to 9 countries across 4 continents, with every country new for Nicki, 90% of the trip new for me.

As we neared the date of leaving, we were asked again and again “are you excited?” We had to say “not yet” because the practical reality of preparing for such a trip has been all-consuming.

It has been a flurry of arrangements as Nicki put a hold on her life in UK for these 5 months. Renting her house, loaning her car, sorting the packing and setting up banking – all done against a back-drop of farewell dinners and cards, calls and texts from friends wishing her well. I left Amsterdam 11 days ago, so these days have been easier for me, supporting rather than having to manage and finalise the arrangements. But we finished everything together, just as we will do so much for the next 5 months together.

The excitement probably really started as we checked in at Heathrow. The counter-attendant asked us “is New York your final destination?” and I answered “Not exactly...”. As she looked through our schedule, she exclaimed with a broad smile about how great the trip looked. We assumed she sees people on such round the world trips every day, but if the woman from American Airlines was excited for us about our tour, we felt we should be too.

It still feels slightly unreal to be starting. It hasn't been that long in the planning – we first talked in early July about going travelling together – but I feel like this trip has been waiting for me for a long time. Perhaps the most unreal part is the feeling of “normality”, to be heading away for so long.

We landed at JFK airport and quickly got our bags and hire car, and within 90 minutes of landing we were checked in at our hotel by the airport. To get the blood moving after being sat down for 9 hours, we went for a quick run around the industrial surroundings of the hotel. As Nicki said, you can find beauty anywhere, and we saw a beautiful red and pink sunset over huge silver cylinder tanks of petrol (the pic here was not taken by us, but you get the gist...). An early night after gasping at airport hotel prices in the bar helped us minimise the jet lag of a 4 hour time difference.

On this trip, a past experience of breaking boundaries will come in handy for sure. But the unforeseen will throw itself at us and we are ready for it, together.

It's a small world...

Almost 12 years ago, I came to live in Amsterdam. It was the single best decision I have made in my life until a few months ago.

I fell in love with the place. I was taken to bars and restaurants in the Jordaan and the Pijp, enjoyed Bokbier in the Autumn, partied on Queens Day in the Spring and drank in the melancholy of the long winter before the glimpses of sunshine Amsterdam calls summer returned. I was introduced to the small villages outside of the city, watching the sunset at Marken and enjoying pancakes in Monnickendam. Finally I fell for the charm of flat Dutch polder landscapes and big skies.

Great friends came into my life and stayed - Morten and Christine, Sonny and Peter, Helena, Rogier and Carmen, Bruce, Siobhan, the Li clan, Mieke, Chantal and Frank. Those friendships lasted through a 4-year absence while living in Vienna. Since returning, new friendships like those with Yvonne and the Angel Mafia have also come.

I didn't give one second's thought to moving to London when my job moved there. With all this joy and love for the city and the friendships here, why would you leave? It would have to be something quite dramatic, right?

And so, one day before I do indeed leave - for 5 months, or even longer? who knows? - I flick through printouts of some of the bookings Nicki and I have made for our Round The World trip. It is unreal to see my notes on each one - "car hire, New Zealand", "hostel, Cuzco", "log cabin, Maine", "visa Australia", "hotel, Tahiti". I feel like one paper should say "car hire, The Moon". Because I thought other people do these kinds of trips and make these kinds of decisions in life. It seemed impossible that I would do so, and on the eve of departure, it still feels incredible to think of visiting all of these places.

And not only that. To do this trip with a great person who has also committed a chunk of her life to our adventure together is the best possible way to take a next step in life.

One little surprise. The guy who is renting my apartment comes from the same town I went to school in. He is the first person from Gravesend I have met since leaving England. It's a small world...

First stop, Greece - to celebrate my father's 70th birthday with his Greek friends, an event that has been a mark on the calendar for the whole year. Then back to UK for a few days, and we fly to New York on 26th October. My own journey starts tomorrow when I fly to England and join up with Nicki. It's 4 months since we met and I can't wait to be together with her.

The full story of the trip will appear here and this blog will continue Round the World. From Canon to Canberra.

6th November 2008 - A Final Word

This is the last time I will write about coming to the end of Canon life - time to move on.

On November 6th 2008, Canon announced the changes I and so many friends have experienced over the last 11 months, 234 jobs moving to London. That evening one of those people, Pascale de Rooij, went to an art class and painted the picture you see here.


People see different things in this painting (and that's a sign of how great a painter Pascale is). But for most, it seems to suggest a Shipwreck in the foreground with a positive and bright horizon behind it. That's how it has felt over the last months. Life as we knew it was de-constructed as we learned about how a big corporate deals with such situations - coldly, impersonally and practically.

As a member of the Works Council and a Director of the company, as well as an employee for Canon over 16 years, it was a hard and emotional journey to realise and accept this harsh truth.

It was not what we expected, because we thought Canon was a human company. But what we learned is that NO company is human. Finally, for the corporate and its highest management, it is only about the numbers. The human element is provided by the social connections we created together, made special by the rich diversity of culture in a building housing people from 50 nationalities.

For me, the social connections are the thing I miss most. I learned that my Amsterdam life is heavily associated with the experience of being in the daily influence of interaction with people from such incredibly different backgrounds. The deeper friendships which I made over the years have stayed and the bonds will be there for years to come. But the small kindnesses and simple contact from so many people in Canon - a smile on the way to the canteen, a chat at the coffee machine, a bit of moral support in a tough meeting - was something I fed from and didn't fully recognise.

The last months of being starved of that hour-by-hour warm contact with colleagues have made me see that I need to do a job which involves exactly that. Working on my own is not my thing. It doesn't mean there is no option to set up my own company - when I talk to my friend Mieke and her company, she is replacing the social interaction of a big organisation by being part of lots of groups and finding other ways to connect. What it does mean is that, whatever the next work step is, I will prioritise daily connection with people and development of a team I like working with over money and position.

Yesterday, a few of us met up in Amsterdam's Vondelpark. It's not insignificant that a different group of people met up in Amstelveen. We start to go our separate ways.

During the meet-up, we talked about the future. Jobs we're applying for, agencies we're discussing with or travelling we are going to do. The anger that was a constant feature of our talk about the company 4-5 months ago has faded. We all realise that Canon did not target any one of us as individuals. They just made a business decision. And in the end, "it was just a job".

But what a job. Morten and I sat together aftewards, drinking Bokbier in a cosy, dilapidated bar opposite the Rembrandt House. We talked a bit about some of our experiences in the early days, 1998 and 1999 when we first arrived in Amsterdam, and reflected on a few of the people we have met. We've come a long way from where he and I first met at Penrith in England's Lake District. We've travelled to amazing places with Canon (China, Japan, Brazil, USA, South Africa, Middle East and most of Europe) and we leave with CV's stuffed full of experience and characters developed by diversity. Our conclusion is often "we lived the dream" and its true.

And now it's time to create some new dreams, build new relationships and establish a new path. My own new path started when I met Nicki just over 3 months ago. It reaches the beginning of the biggest next step in 2 weeks, when I leave Amsterdam for 5 months to travel the world together with the girl I love.