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So good

I understand, if I as neurosis, because I go to bed after 23h: nothing good can happen when you've exceeded your usual time (say, preferred) to sleep . It would turn off the phone, computer, get into pajamas and get under the duvet without expecting anything more.

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Keep moving

Torn between the urge to ask me and desire travel, stay in constant motion, never wonder about the sense of what I do, I say. There is this feeling of needing to be a place for good to take a job, seeing my friends, going to the movies, make plans in the future as "buy an apartment" or "get a promotion." To see my family on weekends, buy a dog, go to Ikea to find a new shelf to find books at Fnac every week me walk on the Pont des Arts on Sunday.

And then there's this other feeling, the one who frightened by the prospect of being trapped in a cycle, makes me always moving, always changing. All my little life I have always chosen ways that upset my life: I went to a school where I knew nobody, I purposely chose a preparation in a different city than my hometown, I landed in a school without a friend. And each time, I rebuilt , inching away, creating connections, discovering new personalities. Learner. Then I went alone to the Netherlands and one in India. Yet. To find people incredible and a desire to live that I had never experienced.

Yet I still wonder every day what is the way forward? Is there a way best de faire les choses? Puis-je constamment bouger? Puis-je survivre en m'installant enfin quelquepart? Comment puis-je devenir celle que j'aspire à être ?

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Wait a minute

When did things got this way? How did this all happened?

I usually have troubles getting attached to guys ; not people in general, on the contrary, I am easy to bond with and consider myself a very reliable friend. But my relationship with guys having been relatively complicated -and I only blame myself for that- I don't trust very easily.

This new guy certainly is the exception. But as I find myself happier everyday, there is this little voice inside me who says "Yes, but one day, this will all be over ". In 2 weeks, 2 months, 2 years...because of me, or because of him. But the knowledge of this, the fact that it will end someday is somewhat horrifying. For that, I would run away . Run away from the trouble, run away from a guy I love.

I like the french author Frédéric Beigbeder. Two quotes of him I really like:

" C'est donc cela devenir adulte : construire des châteaux de sable, puis sauter dessus à pieds joints et recommencer l'opération, encore et encore? " Love lasts three years

Do not worry. There Is Hope for me:

" flee, always, and run hard. And then one day, stopping to tell someone, looking into his eyes: it's you I need, really. And believe it. It would be nice, then do not laugh, have a little fear, and take risks, to do ridiculous things, like giving flowers a day other than February 14 or kiss without being stuffed "The Egoiste Romantique

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Winter

I like winter, it remains wrapped in our blankets, it would not go with multiple layers of clothing (the opportunity to put tights and wool socks and look like Laura Ingalls but fuck it), sometimes it snows and it's pretty, and above all, the caps what. But cons, winter gives this uneasy feeling of getting fat every day without being able to do anything, because I'll be motivated to go running but when it is 3 ° C and gray, I n 'I just want it to stay watching Shrek 4 in drinking my tea Russian.

In two and a half months I'm leaving for good in my dorm: finished my studies and working life (she says just enthusiasm). I begin with a 6-month internship in Frankfurt, Germany, which I do not speak the language but as I said, I like to put insurmountable challenges. It gives me the impression of being in motion , this feeling of imbalance that keeps you alive and motivated.

You must listen to this song .

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Yes but

This weekend I was there, so keep our priorities the things that make you happy, ok?

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I just returned from a conference entitled "Women Engineer", organized by my school and whose objective was to invite the old school, now engineer es so they can tell us about their background and their experiences as a woman .

This type of event both excites me and gives me the creeps: I always come pissed and I wonder why I went there again. May be to give material In my blog, who knows.

What I take from this conference will be:

- An engineer marry an engineer, especially if it comes from the same school . Good God 7 women at least 5 of them were married to someone met during their studies, 2 / 3 children and a labrador. This kind of perspective terrifies me and makes me want to vomit. I know it's all his life, his desires, his career, but listening to them talk, I told myself: " Good as I left there 70% chance that at the end of my internship at the end of studies * I am hired by the box. A year later, I will marry the boy I met at school a few weeks ago (with whom I am remained, of course ), after two promotions and two brats I'll have a story each . pinaise Oh.

- There is always a pitcher to ask a question that has nothing to do with the subject at the end of the conference, a question that provokes endless discussions with no not give a fuck because fucking the school network is not the subject of this conference.

- In the hall, a hundred girls, 3 guys, which seemed consistent saw the title the conference. And although the host took 15 minutes to comment on this and ask poor boys on their arrival, raving about their interest in matters of family life balance privacy. A conference to discuss girls, and concentrated attention from the beginning of the conference on the three anonymous male there. What irony .

Anyway, as usual I exaggerate, but still, it was full of cliches and rather annoying in the end. Groumf .

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Anger is Monday

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I need some sleep

Tonight, Bob (the boy I very often now, we'll call it that for anonymeté) invited me to the party organized by the 'floor' on campus (I live on the campus of my School, and we live in a lot of different buildings, each floor having its own identity: floor rugby, football, floor BDE ,...). I'm already past it's always very nice. We drink a lot, we partied, we fall asleep at hours not having made thousands of bullshit. These friends invited me too excited because we laugh a lot.

But recent days have been exhausting. I pulled on the rope, and there it is 10:15 p.m. ET I collapse of sleep (hence the article in my blog, unwavering logic). So I'm making a lime-mint tea and I enjoy the three sweet chocolate Picard that my roommate gave me.

My life is changing right now, I come to a point in my life where many things will happen, I'll learn, I'll plant me, I will make choices. I find it a bit scary, and also I can not wait. Where will I work? What I want to do for work? Do I want to keep the boy even if I go abroad? Is what I'll manage to keep in touch with my friends (the Gang, I am sure we survived the Netherlands and India)? Will I become the person I want to become?

In Existentialism is a Humanism Jean Paul Sartre said that as there is no human nature every man is responsible not only for himself but for all humanity. Because by his actions, by his choice, he says what he thinks fit human nature. By defining itself, it defines rights in general. And it is a thought to which I connected a lot, and it is for I capital to become someone that I could appreciate and admire, I would be a good representative of what I think human nature.

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Burn down house history

I was a little overwhelmed early this year, it was necessary that it happens at one time or another if you would all think that the fifth year as engineers gland is not possible. I had a project "Numerical Methods " to make or a programming language rather engineer (and easy) to solve a scientific problem. Where everything is complicated, is that I am a cow programming.

The principle itself does not revolt me, this seems logical enough to make A little programming to people who are engineers in six months, just to learn to cope. My specialty is not computers, touch the algorithms and programming seemed a great idea. Until . Proof

- 20h On Course, Mr Con (the nickname of teacher I had, subtle) made us the math 17h theory behind the numerical methods. Cyril seems like a good way to "wank " the brain to ultimately do nothing. Math, I ate in preparation, I can do, but if your goal is to evaluate a particular exercise, on an application, then we do not only theory. That idiot .
- The topic "encoding" (= program) was a fairly simple matter (well, as far as possible), and instead applied (variations in temperature on a metal plate). So a good idea to base. Unless there are software where you can without worrying model this problem without having to code the program itself. What value then?
- My binomial and I spent 20h on a code that ultimately does not work . This has become over-tired, stressed, and not even interested. This exercise has put us in a terrible state and detestable in this state that makes you want to burn the house prof and he with . A state in which I hate to see because it is pathetic . I

passes defended in 15min and after it folded.

And if not now I read Belle du Seigneur, and it is simply fantastic (a bit less than Mr. Wacky, the book for children) (I read too).

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Hello all,

There Is No Dramatic ending, no tears just a vey strong inner feeling of satisfaction which in itself wells up with a large amount of emotion but no tears. We are very proud of what we have done and really hope that it can act as an inspiration for others to travel with their little ones. People always talk about finance but seriously if you can save a bit and get out of the daily grind, most countries that we have visited are far far cheaper to live and to travel in, by bike in any case, than our own. Enough of the sermon but it is important for myself to get out of the mystique that it is something unreal what we have done. It isn't and never will be. It was just something we wanted to do and therefore did it. 

I wanted to write this in Istanbul but l never had time. We are now in Toulouse after spending Christmas in Cumbria where l also did not have time. I now do have some time at my in-laws after much of the family who all came down to be together from Belgium, have since left. The last time l wrote we were leaving Van in Eastern Turkey. This town has become my all time favourite place. It's nothing mind-blowing in terms of beauty but as l said in the last message, it has everything. Mountains, lakes, turkish baths, the best food on this planet and great boring stuff like easy transport links etc! We left Van first by bike and then by boat and then by bike again. The boat had no fixed timetable so we were told by some people to just turn up and wait and by others that it only went on certain days of the week when the trans-asia express to or from Iran was passing through as it was indeed a train boat and our day was not one of those. We thought we had nothing to lose so we went down to the port to ask and it looked a bit abandoned so we did not hold out much hope. Eventually we found someone and were told that it would go at 3.30 p.m. This was great news even though that was more than four hours away. It was a beautiful spot surrounded by mountains and many locals came down to have a cay (tea) with their families under the last of the warming sun before winter. It was actually really entertaining as the boys of the cafe were really keen on permanantly dancing to Turkish pop music which l was meant to buy before leaving Turkey. For the next time! The boat was late of course and after they had unloaded and then reloaded some frieght carriages it had turned very dark and l think it was after 7 p.m when we left. Before getting on the boat we had been treated to the best sunset we had seen on this trip. 

While on the boat l cooked our now not so favourite dish of pasta with tomato paste with my superb MADE IN CHINA stove and Oceanne eventually had a short rest. The boat was empty apart from the crew and carriages and us, so it was easy to bed down on the reclining seats. Somehow when the boat docked and even with the cold we could transfer Oceanne from the seating area to her trailer at the back of the boat without waking her up while we would ride into Tatvan to try and find a hotel at what was now approaching midnight. The one we had in mind was full and then luckily another one not so far away had one room left and luxury of luxuries, a bed for Oceanne. We slept really well! 

Our plan was to ride to Diyarbakir, the cultural centre of the Kurds and then take a train to meet our plane from Istanbul to Glasgow giving enough time in Istanbul to organise the freighting of our bikes and trailers and most of our bags direct from Istanbul to Montreal. There was no way we were going to drag all our stuff to England, France and Germany before going to Montreal. It would be a pain and also impossible with excess baggage fees. And so we did exactly that. A highlight of our ride to Diyarbakir including the totally refurbished Caravan Serai on the way into town was the town of Bitlis. Jammed into a ravine in the mountains and dominated by a ruined castle in the centre it is a really atmospheric place and also as a bonus for me had an ancient turkish bath that was working and in close to it's original state. I will tell you that there is nothing more satisfying than sitting in the original wooden reception area sharing a cay with your male brothers and watching Turkish football sitting around the fountain in perfect tranquility and warmth. This is all after being perfectly relaxed for an hour or two in the bath. I thank Dorothee very much for suggesting that l went as she knows how much l like it even if it is my turn to read the story! A Caravan Serai is a huge roadhouse used by the caravans of camels who used to ply the silk road by the way.

A perfect end to the biking part of our trip was the fact that we spent the last two evenings when we would normally have camped invited into the houses of Kurdish families. The first near the town of Batman with a family who did not speak a word of English and were a farming family and the second with a family who we could converse with pretty well in Bismil on the banks of the Tigris. I have some new Kurdish friends on facebook! Arriving in Diyarbakir, a great old walled city whose walls are supposedly second in length only to the Great Wall of China l thought would be strange as it was the end of pulling this little wonderful girl behind me but it wasn't l am afraid. It was planned and l had spent the day before just riding along listening to music knowing that tomorrow would be the end. I thought about all the strong feelings we had experienced together as a family but they would not just all come out just because we stopped. We had already felt them and today was just another day. I think, like as in the last big one from Alaska to Argentina, it comes out when you get home to your previous life. I expect it will be difficult again when we get back to Montreal. 

The bikes were stored in the garage ready to take the train to Istanbul in around 5 days. We would now do a bit of tourism in Diyarbakir and to Nemrut Dagi, one of the big must-see sites of Turkey. Diyabakir is great with it's little alleyways going here and there and it's walls and what makes it even better is that it is a large working city and not a preserved tourist attraction. Nemrut Dagi is a tourist attraction but at 2150 metres and because it was definetly out of season being close to the middle of December we were totally alone on the mountain. If you do not want to walk up which we did not as we did not have the time then you can get your guesthouse owner to drive you up as there is a paved road up to the top. It was totally beautiful and l made sure l stayed up there until sunset. It is a must-do to be on the western terrace at sunset if it is a magnificently clear day as it was. We were very lucky as it was the last day before the snow came to the mountains as then access would not be possible. We had checked the forecast in Diyarbakir and it turned out to be very accurate. Nemrut Dagi is specifically the burial site of King Antochus I and he went to great lengths to make a fine grave. Two terraces, east and west consisting of huge carved heads and bodies made of massive blocks of not just him but many other gods. In between is an immense cone built of the left over stone that rises up to 50 metres. It has not yet being confirmed if he is buried under this cone that is called the tumulus. 

After Nemrut the weather turned bad and snow covered most of Turkey and we were happy not to be biking in another cold winter. We got all our stuff on a train to Istanbul at 8 in the morning where the ticket said we arrived at 5.30 p.m. Little did we know that it was for the next day! It wasn't that far just that the train didn't move very fast. We were not prepared foodwise for this length of journey and because there was no restaurant carriage on the train l had to jump out at every major station and fill up on water, biscuits, crisps and kebabs. Basically whatever l could get my hands on and quickly. We eventually arrived in Istanbul at 10 the next evening after 37 hours of train. Oceanne did very well considering and slept pretty well in the train. We rushed to get the last boat across the Bosphorous to the European side of Istanbul as that was where we had a friend waiting for us kindly offering us free accomadation after a last and final official end of trip photo with all our bikes and stuff while waiting in the boat terminal. Thank you again Deniz and Negip for your kindness. Our friends laptop and telephone was indispensable in trying to find a cargo company to send our stuff to Montreal. It was either too small for the big shipping companies or because it was personal effects for some others or it was because of the bikes for another one. Eventually after two days of sitting in front of the computer and on the telephone we finally had a couple of options. Obviously l chose the cheapest one. After a couple of hours at the freezing cargo terminal at the airport we finally paid and said goodbye to our bikes, trailers and baggage. The guy who protected our bikes with cardboard was the star of the company in my view. We have since heard that our luggage has safely arrived in Montreal! 

All that remained to be done was a little shopping and l had a good friend coming out from London to spend some quality time together. We bought a solid, wool and darkish red Kurdish carpet to replace the dissapointment of Tabriz which should make a colourful addition to our living room. I also had a great time with my friend Richard going out on the town tasting everything on offer including Raki which is very similar to Pastis in France as well of course going to one last Turkish bath! It was a fine end to this adventure. The fact that our flight on to Glasgow from Heathrow was cancelled due to the recent weather problems did not dampen totally our spirits. We somehow got on the second to last train to Carlisle instead which was in itself blocked for 3 and a half hours because of frozen points near Wigan. Arriving at 2 a.m where my sisters were waiting for us asleep in the station car park was a welcome sight. We had arrived and now was the time to relax. Now to work, babies and dreaming of the next adventure. I did not mention the huge news that Dorothee is pregnant with Wilson-young no.2 and after her first scan everything seems to be fine. It was made in Tashkent! We think a typically correct way to end this story.

All the best and a very very Happy New Year 2011, Rupert Dorothée and Océanne.

14,534 km's and 35 flats.

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New Year

2011 has begun with

- A cocktail harlequin : vodka, apple, manzana, and especially where it has been marinated for several hours Harlequin candy

- Three cellophane rolls , where Dju, Sonia and I are curled (I told you we were going to make them pay for their change of opinion on the topic of the evening). I know "peak gold it didn't happen" but seriously, me in shorts and bra, wrapped in paper, plastic? NEVER

- A bar of pole-dancing , I have not tried but has been happily used by many of my friends (not only girls, far away)

- This song

- toasts the tapenade , I was flying as and slathered they were

- A set of dance, girls team against boys team and the boys have won (fair and square)

- A dredge of abuse against my person Dju

- A dredge of Dju abusive towards any person for human

- An enormous squat beds, mattresses, blankets, sofas with Virgil snoring so loud it was like he was vomiting (it may be)

And especially the certainty that in 10 years there will still