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The Early Years

Born in a small village in Germany, my Mum upped sticks and headed for a new life in the UK when I was 8 yrs old. She packed me and my little brother and as many belongings as she could squeeze into her little car around my brother and I. She nearly left me behind at the Dutch border when a stern border guard demanded to know if she had anything to declare. Sleepy young Angie woke up and muttered “only our toys”. Border control proceeded to tear our car apart and check every nook and cranny before allowing my Mum on her way. Oops.

On landing in Dover, the first thing I spotted was a “Gift Shop” and this prompted a meltdown. Why? Gift is German for poison! A shop selling poison was too much for a kid already scared and confused by being uprooted from her home, friends and everything she knew. Luckily the rest of the trip to our new London home passed without incident - unless you count my Mum getting lost and following a bus to near our destination because she recognised the area name of the front. That took a while! :D

Starting school was tough when you were the newcomer who couldn’t even speak the language. To make things worse I became an instant target for the playground bullies. Memories of the 2nd World War passed down from generation to generation meant being kicked, punched spat at and being called a Nazi day in, day out. Things got better after about 6 months once I had learnt English and learnt to fight back and ignore the bullies. Bit by bit they got bored with their sport and moved on to some other unfortunate victim. Those early experiences meant I became very quiet and shy (something my friends howl with laughter at as they can’t imagine it!) and throughout high school immersed myself in books where I discovered my love of travel. I read tales of explorers and adventurers in exotic corners of the world and longed to fly away and follow in their footsteps and I watched enthralled as the dulcid tones of the magic that is a David Attenborough documentary taught me about animals in far flung lands.

My 20s

I became to total rock chick after my brother took me to an Saxon gig at the infamous Hammersmith Odeon. I loved the noise and raw energy, which was exciting after the soul music I’d been into up until then. I came out of there with my ears ringing, eager to hear more. That and the following Iron Maiden and Deep Purple gigs turned into a lifelong love of rock and blues. Just one downside.....the clothes....and the hair......a perm! Really!?! Oh how I cherished the suede tassel jacket, the snakeskin skinnies........cringe.

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At 22 and having toured Europe (Ahhhh Interrail.....), I headed off on my first big adventure to India and Nepal, clutching my India on a Shoestring guide and wayyyy too much clutter in my backpack. The madness that is Bombay, cows wandering the streets of central Delhi, Kashmir, the burning ghats of Varanasi (lets not mention bhang lassi – not the best thing to drink the night before a 24 hour bus journey to Kathmandu), The Taj Mahal, beautiful Rajasthan and so much more. From the southernmost tip of Trivandrum to the rugged mountain ranges of the northern Himalayas, India invaded my senses with amazing sights, sounds and adventures.

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There were no instant social media photos or whatsapp contact back then either. It was a case of waiting months for news and at one time my Mum nearly sent my brother out to look for me as she hadn’t had a letter for months. Me? Happily sunning myself on the beaches of Goa thinking nothing new to tell meant no need to write. Oh the thoughtlessness of youth. After 18 mths I headed home when a dose of amoebic hepatitis forced me to take a break and recuperate. Still had my goodbye meal though even if it meant dosing up on immodium for the bus journey to Bombay and flight home. It was Christmas, after all :)

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I also went and passed my car and bike licences and, never one to do anything by halves, bought myself a tatty little XS750 chop. My Mum was horrified, especially when I took off to tour around the UK on it. It was wonderful though - I was totally fearless back and happily whizzed down motorways and country lanes, leather flapping in the wind (I never did my jacket up. My bad) as I discovered my adopted homeland. I don't think I've ever felt more free since those carefree days with no responsibility and no cares.

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Back on the road I spent the next few years in Asia, scuba diving the Great Barrier Reef, dodging Komodo dragons & climbing volcanoes in Indonesia, lazing on heavenly, remote beaches, trekking through mountain regions and jungles and visiting awe-inspiring temples from Rangoon to Angkor Wat to Borobudur.

A chance meeting with some great Dutch girls in Siberut and then Lake Toba in Indonesia led me to Amsterdam. One of them was heading off to Vietnam so I took over her apartment in the city centre, got myself a job and bought a rickety “fiets” from a street corner seller for 10 guilders. I loved that tatty bicycle – painted green and orange it took me everywhere from work, friends and to nightclubbing at The Arena and the wobbly ride home at 5am. I lived there for 2 happy years before heading off to work the Oktoberfest in Munich as a pretzel seller. Yep, a pretzel seller. Hey at least I wouldn't go hungry! 16 days of very hard work in the Augustiner Zelt (and great fun – I can still hear “Mamor, Stein und Eisen Bricht” in my head as I had the odd Stein or two passed to me for a toast with random party goers), but it earnt me enough money to head off travelling again as I took in places like Kazakstan, Uzbekistan and my first trip to South America where I travelled the length of Chile, trekking in Patagonia and then working my way north to the salt flats of the Salar de Atacama. More recently I've criss-crossed the US (a major road-trip is still on the bucket list), visited Mexico, the Carribbean, Greece and Montenegro and in the last few months been to Belfast and Dubrovnik to see where Game of Thrones was filmed. Yep, total nerd-alert! Dubrovnik was absolutely stunning. A medieval walled-city that is a destination in it's own right amidst the beauty that is Croatia.

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Work

I spent my 20s as an office temp, scuttling through the London underground system, my trusty A-Z in hand, as my agency sent me wherever I was needed. The freedom of heading off travelling whenever I fancied suited me perfectly. No constraints to my holidays! On my travels I worked as a cleaner in a backpackers hostel (bleurgh, don’t. Just….don’t) , a call centre worker in Amsterdam (my language skills came in handy!), a pretzel seller at the Oktoberfest (I can still hear the sound of thousands of voices roaring out "Mamor, Stein und Eisen Bricht" to the oompah band.) and PA by day and barmaid by night whilst saving to buy my first home back in London. After a few years working in the City for a large financial firm, I shocked all my friends by jacking in my well-paid job, selling my house and downsizing to set up my own business. Everyone said I was mad but I was sick of the daily grind of overcrowded trains, 9-5 and set 5 weeks of holidays per year. I just felt caged, something I've never done well. I’m now a full-time ebayer selling the kind of blingy crystal objects that would make any magpie's heart sing!

There’ve been many bumps along the road, but I consider myself blessed to have had fantastic experiences, great friends and opportunities that my Mum’s generation could only dream of.

The world is truly an oyster and it’s up to all of us to prise it open.