Standing alone on the Navigation Deck directly above the bridge where the Captain was calling out orders to his officers, sailing out of Rio de Janeiro harbour on a fine day, on our way to Europe, sailing past Sugarloaf Mountain, I felt an incredible sense of total satisfaction. The van was tied up below deck along with five thousand Fiat cars, made in Brazil and being exported to Italy! I had been provided a huge clean air-conditioned cabin that normally was reserved for the owner of the shipping company. Every meal was taken at the Captain's table and shared with his fellow officers. There were only ten officers and ten crew required to operate this enormous ship. On board I had the run of the entire ship, which I enjoyed immensely of course, discovering one deck after another, visiting the engine room and watching the officers and crew performing their tasks very efficiently on the bridge and in the wheelhouse. My first boyhood dream had been to become an officer on a passenger ship! For this reason I felt privileged to have been provided another one of life's unique opportunities to enjoy, with maximum fulfilment, the pleasure of sailing on the open seas.

As the ship crossed the Atlantic Ocean, in between swims in the pool and an occasional sauna and many, many promenades on deck, I formulated my future plans: to drive the newly rebuilt VW van around the entire world. Across Europe, Africa, the Soviet Union, China, South-East Asia and finally to Australia. A total of six years!

There would be some obstacles!

To attain this goal I felt that I needed to obtain official sponsorship from World Headquarters of VW in Wolfsburg, Germany. Having spoken with the Vice-President of VW Brazil and with several other managers quite high up in the VW hierarchy at São Paulo, I felt that I stood a good chance to obtain the sponsorship. Without it I doubted the completion of the entire journey. With it I would have felt a confidence to conquer all obstacles.

At this stage I also felt that some good company would be of great benefit as well. With a rebuilt van minimising the chances of expensive repairs, Europe being an easier continent to travel through and with the money from the sale of my Colorado property firmly lodged in a Swiss Bank, I felt that I could afford this luxury. I therefore wrote to Monica, the girl who I had befriended in Mexico City and invited her along. Upon my arrival in Milan, Italy I telephoned her to agree upon a city and date and time of arrival. She had agreed to meet me in London.

The ship's arrival was not marked by fanfare but overlooking Salerno harbour, perched atop a high cliff, I could see the first European challenge, a huge medieval castle that beckoned a visit.

I travelled through many historically interesting medieval cities, towns and villages in Italy such as Spoletto, Assisi, Perugia and Siena as well as through the scenically spectacular Swiss Alps before I arrived at the home of my good Swiss friend, Felix Weber. I had met him fifteen years earlier in North Africa when he and another English couple, both driving early model VW vans, picked me up hitch-hiking. They had invited me to travel across North Africa to Morocco. Compared to hitch-hiking, I travelled in comfortable luxury with them for several months, sleeping across the front seat. We drove 4000 kilometres along the Mediterranean coast, crossed the Atlas Mountains and visited the fabulously historic cities of Fez, Casablanca, Marrakesh and many others. Visiting these cities, especially wandering around the colourful closed-in souks (market-places of Muslim cities) where the senses were stimulated by the smell of incense, fresh spices and donkey dung, felt like we had been carried back into Islamic time a thousand years. We drove through the countryside where hundreds of horse and donkey carts still dominated the roadsides. Utilising our school French we talked to the local inhabitants from whom we bought food and freshly baked bread. These friendly people inspired me to read more about Moslem culture and study its unique history which today still maintains an influence on the world and its politicians. Islamic culture is a powerful force, rightfully so in the context of world history, with successful invading armies having come and gone over hundreds of years. For centuries the law of Islam extended from the west coast of Africa to the Chinese border. Wars between Christians and Moslems were fought for many hundreds of years and are still going on today. A significant part of Bosnia's history is connected with this Moslem influence which today is having to battle against Christian forces once again.

The VW trip with Felix and Martyn in 1973 was a fantastic and truly wonderful experience. The independence and freedom felt by this form of travel, driving in a VW van, gave me the idea then; to eventually drive around the world in my own VW van and to return to Morocco. This idea was constantly reinforced as I continued hitch-hiking around Europe, having been picked up several more times by other travellers who were travelling around Europe in their VW vans. Each of these experiences were highlights of hitch-hiking. In the 60s and 70s it was considered a popular experience to drive VW vans from London to Katmandu; Amsterdam to Marrakesh, and around Europe.

As on many previous visits to Felix and his family, we hiked many times into the scenically spectacular mountains near his home, passing Swiss farmlets located high up on the slopes. Trails led us through the steeply wooded slopes of magnificent forests, both evergreen and deciduous, across lush green fields where healthy cows with clanging brass bells around their necks, ambled slowly chewing on summer grasses. We stopped occasionally to drink a 'cafe schnappes' in a wooden 'gasthaus' located high up on the steep hillsides.

Once again I said my goodbyes to these wonderful people whose generous hospitality had been greatly appreciated over many years of thoroughly enjoyable visits, and drove along the Romantic Road of Germany; visiting the medieval towns of Nordlingen, Dinkelsbuhl and Rothenburg a.d. Tauber. All these interesting towns still maintain medieval walls that surround the old cities. Today it is still possible to walk around these walls and along the cobble-stone streets which provide a valuable insight into the life of medieval Europe, when towns like these were made rich from markets that attracted merchants from all over Europe who traded their goods there.

Having arrived at the VW Headquarters in Wolfsburg, Germany, I sought out the Director of International Public Relations and introduced myself to him at the entrance gate of this enormous car manufacturing plant. He escorted me to his office where we discussed the proposal that I presented. My proposal was as follows: in exchange for VW sponsorship, I would complete the entire journey around the world and spend additional time writing and preparing a high quality photo-illustrated book which was to be promoted internationally to a world-wide market on behalf of VW. Unfortunately, and to my great dismay, he declined to accept the proposal, his principal reason being that there had been so many letters from other travellers asking for VW sponsorships, that a company policy was set up not to provide any sponsorships at all! I felt, however, that my case deserved special attention as I had successfully completed two entire continents already, at my own expense and had already been provided valuable sponsorships from VW Brazil and several other companies. The repairs made by VW Brazil to my vehicle should have reduced if not eliminated the need for further major repairs along the proposed journey and therefore should have reduced most of the costs for VW Germany. I basically needed the VW sponsorship to provide an added sense of security (as I had no insurance or a Carnet de Passage) while I crossed the African continent and the Soviet Union. After all that I had achieved, Alaska to Tierra del Fuego, I felt deceived and thoroughly let down upon hearing this saddening negative response. I would have liked to take the proposal to somebody further up the hierarchical ladder (someone who could be enthused by the proposal) but I could see that without prior appointments it would have been an impossibility. Naturally I was extremely disappointed but there was little more I could do in those circumstances. The Director of International Public Relations did authorise, however, a service for my van and then personally escorted me to the exit gate and wished me good luck with my future endeavour.

From Germany I travelled to Holland and visited my Dutch family and friends. My uncle, Melle Haitsma, as production manager of the tobacco company, Theodorus Niemeyer, located in Groningen, and makers of Samson Tobacco, negotiated another sponsorship on my behalf. Other friends Marianne and Gerard Ham, who I had also known since 1973, allowed me the use of their computer to write the story of the journey so far completed. In Amsterdam I approached the editor of the Dutch magazine, "Nieuwe Revu" who showed tremendous interest in the story and assigned one of his journalists to interview me several times. This resulted in an article being published in that magazine.

After leaving Amsterdam I drove to Belgium and visited some important historical battlefields. Just south of Brussels was the battlefield of Waterloo which was fought in June 1815, between Napoleon's newly resurrected army against the allied forces of the British, led by the Duke of Wellington and the Prussians, led by Blucher. Some kilometres closer to the North Sea were the trench-line battlefields of World War I, near Yprès. Apart from a few walled cemeteries dotted about which were dedicated to the fallen, there was nothing remaining of that awesome and horrific conflict. The muddy trenches and kilometres of barbed wire that stuck out of the earth had all been cleared long ago and re-converted to fertile fields. The rebuilt medieval cloth hall in the town square had a museum inside which demonstrated quite clearly, using life-size dioramas of life in the trenches, the hideousness and viciousness of that horrendous four-year struggle that occurred here between the European Powers in 1914-18.

After crossing the English Channel and driving along the south coast of England, passing through Romney Marsh and the cinque ports, I arrived in London to await Monica's arrival from Mexico City to Heathrow Airport, During my stay there I visited another good friend, Martyn Andrean, who I had not seen for fifteen years since those free and easy days of hitch-hiking around Europe. Over a couple of fine British ales I persuaded him to join us and accompany Monica and myself through Great Britain. He agreed to come and together with Monica, who had arrived at the specified time, we drove north. One of the highlights while the three of us travelled together was finding typically English bed and breakfast accommodation for Martyn in the farmlands of England and Scotland. We found several of them and enjoyed their warm surroundings. Other highlights included camping on a beach almost directly below the walls of Bamburgh Castle as well as climbing the highest mountain in the British Isles, Ben Nevis in Scotland. After travelling along several of Scotlands' lochs and glens we took Martyn as far as Inverness where he returned to London by train.

Monica and I continued driving through the scenic wild and misty Western Highlands of Scotland before crossing over to Northern Ireland. We drove along spectacular coastline and occasionally along some narrow inland lanes that led us into lush verdant valleys adorned with clear running streams and magnificent forests. In Ireland we picked up a hitch-hiker, Paul Seymour, who accompanied us for a week. He was an American writer on a sojourn around Ireland, gathering information for a book that he was writing. We three got along quite splendidly, having travel as a common denominator. We went for several walks together along well-beaten trails, passing abandoned castles and meadows containing woolly sheep grazing on green pastures, and occasionally stopping at an Irish pub to listen to some Irish music and drink a pint of Guinness. After driving along the Ring of Kerry, a spectacular stretch of rocky ocean coastline in Ireland's south-west we said our goodbyes. We were to meet again, as a result of an interesting set of circumstances that occurred later in the journey!

Monica and I crossed over to Wales and visited the enormous castles of Beaumaris, Conway, Caernarvon and Harlech, built by Edward I in the 1200s, to subject the Lords of Wales to pay tribute to English kings. We spoke to several locals and noted that the Welsh still have no desire to be ruled by Britain, preferring instead to have their independence. After driving through the scenic splendour of the Cotswolds and visiting some of the attractively quaint villages there, we drove to the university town of Oxford where we wandered slowly around some of the historical colleges, most of which were architectural splendours. Not far from Oxford was Blenheim Palace which belonged to the current Duke of Marlborough who was a direct descendant of that victorious general of the same name. The palace was a gift from Queen Anne to the general for his victory at the Battle of Blenheim, fought 1704, one of the major battles of the War of Spanish Succession. Sir Winston Churchill was also a descendant of the Duke of Marlborough and was born at Blenheim Palace.

After taking the ferry from Newhaven to Dieppe in France, which therefore signified our return to the European continent we visited many more places of interest, including the beaches and war museums of Normandy, the medieval walled port of La Rochelle, the distilleries of Cognac, etc. I was particularly interested to show Monica the many medieval castles that were located along the Rhine River gorges of Germany, especially between Mainz and Koblenz, and the barges that work on this huge river system connected by many tributaries and canals. I noticed, that during the twenty year time period away from these barges, they had become significantly longer and that modern technology had greatly facilitated the work for their captains and crews.

Monica and I had spent a most delightful time travelling together and grew to know each other quite well. We felt that we had many things in common but I was also aware that she was not on the same mission as I was. She therefore travelled as far as Groningen, Holland, where we said emotional goodbyes before she took a train to Toulouse, France, to commence her new life with some Mexican friends whom she knew were living there.

During this next visit to Holland, I negotiated further the requirements of the sponsorship by the tobacco company, Theodorus Niemeyer. It was required of me to drive around East Germany and take photographs of the van (now filling up with a considerable amount of sponsorship space) with interesting East German backgrounds. As a travel photographer I did this willingly and located some spectacular East German vistas. Dresden for instance, although destroyed by allied bombing in World War II, still retained a vibrantly rich heritage containing many imposing buildings of royal proportions dating back to this royal city which was the capital of the Kingdom of Saxony. Several plans have remained intact, thereby enabling exact reconstructions of many fine buildings to be made, such as the grandiose Opera House and the equally magnificent royal palace, Der Zwinger. East Germany will remain a rebuilding challenge to all Germans for many more years, largely as a result of Russian exploitation after the second world war when whole factories were dismantled and taken back to the Soviet Union. The country was allowed to decay quite badly! Yet ironically enough however, the decayed buildings have withstood the test of time and with sufficient input of funds can be renovated and restored to their original grandeur, thereby recreating architecturally beautiful German cities. These cities will eventually attract tourists from all over the world. Another great difference between East and West Germany is that West Germany received millions of U.S. dollars under the Marshall Plan for rebuilding the country after the war while the Soviet Union had no intention of funding East Germany's rebuilding program.

I continued the fascinating drive through Eastern Europe, travelling through Poland, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Croatia and Slovenia, all of which I found particularly charming. Old Europe has indeed left behind a wonderful legacy of rich history and extraordinary architecture. I felt transported back in time to pre-World War II Europe, when commercialisation and mass tourism had not yet encroached upon its soul. This is unfortunately, in my opinion as a well-travelled European, the sad reality of modern Europe, the two above factors, combined with population increase and the motor vehicle, are rapidly destroying the character and the essence of Europe. That is to say, Europe's unique history, its magnificent architecture and the many various cultures which make up this incredible continent are being squashed by modernity and its associated factors. Most of Europe's history never involved motorcars, neon lights and mass tourism. For this reason it was refreshing therefore and pleasurable to travel through and experience a newly independent Eastern Europe, and notice the difference in attitude and mentality between communism and capitalism. Eastern Europeans had any capitalistic ideas suppressed by Communism for half a century and therefore had not yet re-developed the level of materialism seen in the West. That desire to be 'ruled' by money is now slowly starting to permeate into the East European psyche however. For example, the ubiquitous East German 'Trabant' cars are being dumped in their thousands, replaced by BMW's, Mercedes Benz and others.

At the beginning of my arrival in Europe I had written letters to National Geographic, asking for their support, as well as to the Intourist group (responsible for travel to the U.S.S.R. before the break-up of the Soviet Union). In this case I felt that official VW sponsorship could surely have facilitated my entry into this country. Little was I to know that one year later there was to be the break-up of the Soviet Union. The borders are already opening up to independent travellers who may travel without KGB officers following them.

In Trieste, Italy, my intention had been to travel south along the Adriatic coastline of Croatia and across Greece and Turkey before returning to Europe the following spring via North Africa and Spain. I desired to share this with Monica whose company I was missing tremendously by this time. Therefore, instead of turning south I drove west across Italy to Toulouse in the south of France where I had hoped to persuade Monica to accompany me further and experience these new adventures together. I had grown to love her and felt an emptiness without her friendly company. She asked me to stay in Toulouse to arrange an apartment, etc. In retrospect, this could probably have been a good proposition but the desire to complete the 'mission' proved to be the overwhelming factor which made me continue with the journey.

Sadly therefore, after visiting Monica in Toulouse for some days, I decided to go south and avoid the European winter, driving along the rugged Atlantic coastline of Portugal and Spain towards Africa. I had decided that crossing the Sahara Desert, travelling up the Congo River and through safari country to Cape Town, South Africa would provide the next challenging experiences. From there the plan was to travel to East Africa, the Nile Valley and into Russia and the Latvian Republics. The beautiful cities of St. Petersburg, Moscow, Bukhara and Samarkand, etc. beckoned to be visited and of course crossing the great Taiga of Siberia to China. Then across the Gobi Desert to Kashgar and Lhasa in Tibet. Finally, across the Himalayas to India's South Coast (for some R&R at Goa, an old popular Portuguese enclave) before shipping the van to South East Asia where the objective would be to drive through Vietnam and Indonesia to Australia.

My interest in Spanish colonialism brought me to the Archives building of Seville. The building was closed for the day but would be open the following morning, necessitating therefore an overnight stay in this delightful Spanish city. I went for an evening stroll around the charming streets of old Seville and visited the grandiose and remarkable cathedral of this historical city.

When I returned to the van at 10.30pm to bed down for the night I was absolutely devastated to find that it was no longer there!!!

It had been stolen!!!

What to do? Which decisions to make? Where to go? What are my options? The alternatives? I had only completed three continents! There were more to go!!

After reporting the theft to the police I found a pension and slept a sleepless night trying to think about the alternatives and weigh up each option. To cut a long story short; I had decided to return to Australia but within an hour of purchasing an expensive non-refundable ticket to Australia, I again called the police who told me that they had located the van!! They had it towed to a car dump site on the outskirts of the city. After all that I had experienced with this magnificent 'home on wheels'; one thousand nights; one hundred thousand kilometres; it was depressingly devastating indeed, to see it parked unflatteringly among a pile of old broken-down vehicles! From the outside I could see that it had a broken drivers window covered up by an old blanket and the front reserve tyre was missing. From the inside I could see that it had been completely ransacked, the refrigerator door was hanging lopsidedly from one of the hinges, all clothing, food and blankets were gone. Yet I noticed that the stereo-cassette player was still intact! I placed my key into the ignition and started the motor! It was still running perfectly! I was fortunate I suppose, as the thieves had left my diaries and the used films sprayed across the floor, which enabled me, therefore, to complete this project.

At the time it would not have taken a great deal to continue from where I had left off, after all the engine had not been tampered with. But I did have a $2000 non-refundable ticket and due to some irrational thinking and of course extreme depression, I chose to return to Australia. Amazingly enough I found a young American student who was willing to take the van off my hands for a bargain $600, all that he had! My plane was leaving that afternoon, leaving me with no bargaining power and no alternatives. I therefore signed the transfer papers and reluctantly handed over the keys and headed off to the airport with two plastic bags containing my diaries, films and a few other incidentals left in the van!

Needing transport upon my return to Australia, the $600 enabled me to buy a mountain bike!

After spending six months in Australia, during which time I corresponded with Monica, I had the good fortune to be part of another fantastic Latin American experience - in one of the letters to Monica, I proposed to her and I asked if we could marry in an old Spanish colonial church somewhere in Mexico! I am delighted to say that she accepted my proposal most joyfully. I was required, therefore, to return to Mexico where we were married in the church of Santa Prisca in Taxco, one of the colonial period's principal silver mining towns. Tons of silver was transported on treasure fleets back to Seville from this beautiful town which has become a national monument. We invited our hitch-hiking friend from Ireland, Paul Seymour to be the 'best' man. He gladly accepted our invitation and came to Mexico with his wife for the celebrations. They had a thoroughly enjoyable time, sharing with us and our families the pleasure of a Mexican marriage ceremony.

Another six months were spent in Mexico which included a honeymoon cruise to several of the Islands of the Caribbean. We chose one of the passenger ships that I had seen docked in Skagway, Alaska. It was the small yet intimate Italian cruise ship, "Daphne" from Costa Lines. After visiting the awesome Spanish fortress of El Morro and wandering around the massive walled ramparts surrounding the old city of San Juan, Puerto Rico we embarked on our ship and sailed via the islands of St Martin (Dutch and French), Martinique (French), Barbados (British), St Lucia (French then British), Antigua (British) and finally to St Thomas (Danish then United States) before returning to San Juan. Each of these islands and all the other Caribbean islands maintain many historical links to that period of European domination in the 1600s, 1700s and 1800s. One of the highlights was a visit to Nelson's Dockyard in Antigua. From this strategically placed location the famous British Admiral perfected his skills of seamanship with naval fleet battles against the French and Spanish. The original dockyard buildings are still in place and are indeed interesting to wander through but even though yachts have replaced the monstrous wooden ships-of-the-line, decks lined with dozens of cannon, the strategic importance of the harbour was clearly visible, enabling the visitor to gain a clear insight into a tempestuous past when these islands played vital roles in changing the history of Europe.

In addition to visiting each of these islands and eating excellent meals on board ship, we strolled many times around the Promenade Deck where we were able to reflect upon the importance of the Caribbean to Latin American history; and to think about our recent adventures throughout this entire region, thereby bringing to a wonderful conclusion an epic journey of the Americas.

My complete acceptance into Monica's family allows me to continue a feeling of belonging to that special Latin American culture where I had spent so much time.

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