Here, There and Everywhere

By Craig Lock

Craig Lock is an extensive world traveller and failed professional emigrater who has spent most of his life's savings on airfares. He is still 'sliding down the razor blade of life', stuck on a deserted (other than a few brilliant rugby players) island at the bottom of the world near Antarctica, where he is 'trying to throw a double six' to get off and go out into the real world – but he doesn't know where!

In the style of Bill Bryson, HERE, THERE AND EVERYWHERE tells tales of his  adventures in his younger years through 'Grate' Britain and the Continent

• Language: English
• Publisher: Craig Lock
• Release date: Oct 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223450177

Craig Lock

I’ve been writing about my passions since 1993.Craig has been involved in the corporate world (life assurance) for over twenty years in South Africa, Australia (briefly) and New Zealand. However, through a strange set of circumstances and finding himself in a small town near the bottom of the world ...and with nothing else to do, he started writing. Five published books later (well they turned out to be a vanity publisher and he and his family lost everything, their life savings, including the kitchen sink* - that episode is a book in itself!). Now many years later, “recovering“, having written another twenty manuscripts (on widely differing subjects - well what else is there to do here?)... this is where Craig is in the "journey/adventure" that is life.Craig has taught at the local Polytechnic, as well as running a successful creative writing course (not teaching sheep!). Together with his “technowhizz”friend, Bill Rosoman, he was the author of (as far as we know) the first creative writing course on the internet and this has developed to new writing and publishing courses we have introduced on our new Creative Kiwis.com website (www.creative kiwis.com)* that’s a metaphor, btw (“by the way”)*Craig has many varied interests and passions. He is particularly interested in the field of psychology – studying the human mind and what makes different people "tick-tock grandfather clock". He is fascinated by the "overlap between psychology and the dimension of spirituality".One of his missions in life is helping people make the most of their hidden potential and so finding their niche in life... so that they are happy.Craig’s various books probably tell more about his rather "eventful" life best (no one could believe it!). He writes books with serious messages and themes, then as a contrast "rather crazy, wacky stuff"...to keep him sane here. As an ‘anonymouse’ person wrote: "All of us are born mad; some of us remain so."Well nothing else much happens in quiet provincial New Zealand, other than headlines like "Golf Ball Thrown at Policeman" and "Beach Toilet Closed for Season.". True!The “writer” loves to encourage and empower people to be the best they can possibly be, and to create what they want in life. Craig has learnt plenty from the "school of life" (still "battered and bruised") and also from a few "hard knocks on the head". He is an extensive world traveller (on a "shoestring budget") and failed professional emigrater who has spent most of his lifes savings on airfares. He is still sliding down the razor blade of life on the beautiful undiscovered island that is New Zealand, somewhere near the bottom (rude!) of the world near Antarctica. There he talks to the 60 million sheep!So here goes...# HERE, THERE AND EVERYWHERECraig Lock is an extensive world traveller and failed professional emigrater who has spent most of his life's savings on airfares. He is still 'sliding down the razor blade of life', stuck on a deserted (other than a few brilliant rugby players) island at the bottom of the world near Antarctica, where he is 'trying to throw a double six' to get off and go out into the real world - but he doesn't know where!In the style of Bill Bryson, HERE, THERE AND EVERYWHERE tells tales of his hilarious hair-raising adventures in his younger years through 'Grate' Britain and the Continent.‘’Dropped out in Godzone‘’: Craig Lock's humorous travel book about his adventures in provincial New Zealand...One man and his family - and their experiences "Down Under".The author and his wife contrast life in colourful, vibrant South Africa with calm and kindly New Zealand - and with large dashes of humour offer much understanding of, and sympathy with the social attitudes of the two worlds.A new immigrant's impressions of life in provincial New Zealand (after coming from a large city in South Africa) ... and there were one or two rather funny adventures, nay escapades in "Sleepy Hollow" from time to time!REVIEW:"DROPPED OUT IN GODZONE is an original and agreeable piece of work. The picture it gives of New Zealand- to one who has never been there- has a ring of complete authenticity. The feeling of the country is relaxed, and perhaps rather unstimulating, but we get an overall impression from the writer that he views his time there with some affection, and above all with tolerance."This book breathes a natural humour and kindliness, which is what gives it the individual character that is so appealing.Autobiography has a particular value as a literary form. It is a shared kind of writing and I'll continue to bang the drum. It is unusual to encounter two such different manuscripts from the same author. Both (THE END OF THE LINE is the other book) have quality and share an easy and assured writing style that is a pleasure to read.Both of these short books are of first rate quality."Craig is presently working on his latest novel 'The Awakened Spirit', based on some true and inspiring stories of the indomitable human spirit, that lies within each one of us. Stories of endless possibilities.He firmly believes in the motto: "Find what you love doing, then you will never have to do a days work in your life." Craig is certain he has found his niche in life... anyway, what other job would be suitable for him?##PPS: Well there WAS a big earthquake here in "Sleepy Hollow" last week with buildings damaged. It made international news!********Craig has a 'passion' for writing books that tell stories about people doing positive things in this often so hard, sometimes unkind world, occasionally cruel, yet always amazing world - true stories that leave the reader feeling uplifted, empowered and hopefully even inspired. Craig's mission is to encourage people to believe in themselves and try to help inspire people around the world to achieve their goals and dreams in life, whatever they may be.www.craiglockbooks.com and www.selfgrowth.com/experts/craig_lock.htmlThe various books* that Craig "felt inspired to write" are available at:http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/craiglock(e-books http://www.creativekiwis.com/index.php/craigs-ebooksand http://www.creativekis.com/amazon.html* Hard copies and e-books - fiction and non-fiction: novels, self help, personal growth, inspiration, travel, humour and money books.All proceeds go to needy and underprivileged children -MINE!PSDon''t worry about the world ending today...its already tomorrow in little scenic and tranquil New Zealand

Book preview

Introduction

When people travel they leave all their home comforts behind and spend all their time trying to recreate those same comforts that they left behind in a strange place. How crazy! Yet the intrigue, unexpectedness and mysteries of travel inspire hundreds of thousands of travellers around the world each year. This manuscript is dedicated to all these adventurous spirits and also to those who are about to embark on the journey of life (and/or a lifetime). I hope that I whet your appetite for travel (and not my bed)! Perhaps, I should have used the word 'kindle' instead.

My friends have been telling me for years to write a book. Now that I have the time here in Sleepy Hollow on the other side of the world, my wife Marie suggested that I write one about my travels. Nothing much happens in provincial New Zealand, other than the stealing of a local lawnmower which makes the headlines. Another is Beach Toilet Still Closed for Holiday Season, 'strues Bob' (as true as Bob, my dear father-in-law).These are true stories. Otherwise New Zealand is very sane, so it is ideal for writing. The bottling season has come to an end, so I can now start my manuscript!

I really had to come to beautiful, tranquil New Zealand to write this manuscript. I had to find a place here like Sleepy Hollow where time stood still; where nothing much happened, so I could catch up on my adventures many years ago... without any distractions. It also helps my recall. The more I write the more memories come flooding back; I keep adding on and on. This magnificent scenic spot is just the place for that. It is also an ideal place for reading books. Incidentally I met my wife, Marie a quiet New Zealander (who has got a heart of gold and doesn't smell a bit!) in London on Trip One. We had a long intermission (and my Trip Two) before we got hitched with a ball and chain.

My other great inspiration was reading Bill Bryson's book Neither Here nor There. It made us both laugh out aloud so many times at his unique and irreverent brand of humour. Reading his book brought great pleasure and also rekindled so many memories of my travels as a young man over twenty years ago. The pictures he painted so well with his words made my memories of all those exotic European cities stand out vividly. It also brought back the encounters with the many kind and fascinating people that I met. If he could do it, why couldn't I? And so could you.

Reading other travel books brought back other memories of things and places; my memory is good, but not that wonderful. Marie did some research in travel reference books. For those of you who have travelled, I hope this manuscript triggers some pleasant memories for you.

Happy Travelling!

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Chapter One: Getting Ready

For most young people in the new Colonies of South Africa, Australia and New Zealand, the 'Big OE' (or Overseas Experience) is the major life event to be frantically saved for after finishing your dreary school years. At least I think they were boring, although many people say they were the best years of their lives. For me the days of travel are some of the best days in my life. A visit to see the 'Mother Country', the UK, as well as the Continent is a must for many upper, upper-middle, and middle class twits like me and my eccentric friends, who you will soon get to hear about. They really are a motley bunch of rather different individuals, interesting and out of the ordinary 'characters' - definitely not 'foozes', a Lock family word for down to earth, normal people who do the usual type of things like normal jobs, own a station-wagon and mow the lawns on Saturdays. We own a station-wagon, by the way. So my friends are those rare 0.1% of the population who are to be treasured like a vintage wine.

After graduating from the University of Cape Town with my BA (or Bugger All degree), I was ready to take on the world. My first real job, other than occasional holiday jobs, was a clerical one at a life assurance company in Cape Town. While at university I had a variety of holiday jobs. One as a waiter at a Pick'n Chicken road house, where I was a bit slack. I didn't take down the parking place of the one customer. Unfortunately for me, by the time the horrog (hot dog for those unaccustomed to the Capetonian accent) was ready, the parking area was jam packed; so I went from car to car to find the owner (en route someone had taken a bite out of it!). Another job was at a motoring magazine when my father and the owner got a bit tiddly and offered me a job. The only problem was that there was no work, so I spent most of the holidays sitting in parked cars so they weren't ticketed. This must be the story of my working life, filling in time - until now at least! Another interesting episode was in a clothes shop where my friend Francois attempted to make sales of jackets by introducing me as Pierre Cardin, the fashion expert (is the word couturier?) from Paris. We didn't last long as the moffie (poofter) manager did not appreciate our weird sense of humour and fired us both after a day or two. Anyway, we were a bit scruffy! Believe it or not (you probably won't), I also had a 'normal' holiday job for a number of years at a sports shop. After three parking tickets on my first day, I spent the rest of the holidays working to pay off the tickets. If you pay peanuts, you do get monkeys!

With this rather strange background this manuscript could possibly be interesting. Read on...

At this time I was a bit of a spindly, weedy match stick man, but too big to be sold in a box of matches. I was a bit backward with the opposite sex too, although I had been initiated by one of my father's older girlfriends. I tied a little bow around you know what because I knew that I was going to be seduced. Attached to the bow was a short note:

Enjoy me tonight and have FUN. I've always found the way to a woman's heart is to make her laugh. So I suppose I was as thin as a pencil and the only thing that made me attractive was the lead in it. My friends said that my legs were so thin, that I had no visible means of support. That's probably why Marie is still supporting me.

For how long who knows! So please buy my books.

Margie was a naive, giggly, pretty Portuguese girl who my friend Guy and I met at the Golden Spur steak ranch in Newlands . She was a waitress and we met through one of those stupid inane opening lines that make me cringe when I hear young boys say them now. How puerile and unimaginative; there can't be much more grating than boys of eighteen to twenty one. But we were worse! We really fancied ourselves as we arrived with salt in our hair, after swimming. Anyway, I was a late developer - I only found out about 'the birds and the bees' when I was about seventeen, or perhaps it was later, and I still believed in Santa till my twenty-first birthday.

Margie and I got on splendidly playing with my Dinky toys. She was my first love. I must have cared because I taught her to drive my first little car, a white Mini that I had saved up hard for. (Naughty, don't end a sentence with a preposition; but it sounds odd the other way around. The sentence, not me, I mean. Unfortunately, we ran out of petrol going up very steep Kloof Nek near Table Mountain in Cape Town (running out of petrol is a frequent occupational hazard with me). I was pushing the car to freewheel down the hill then hopin. Unfortunately it got away from me. Solo Margie lost control and hit a pole soon after the epic downhill trip started. The car was a write off and, extremely embarrassed, I sold it on the spot before we went off to Groote Schuur Hospital (famous for the world's first heart transplant by Dr Christiaan Barnard, alleged lover of many famous women like Sophia Loren, Gina Llobrigida, etc). Envy rears it's ugly head! There we had our respective broken ankles put in plaster.

So visits without my dear little car to visit dear little Margie across the hill were a trifle difficult. I either got a lift with friends or hitched there on crutches. She lived with her family in Wynberg. Visits to her home were like seeing the Portuguese Mafia; whole groups of swarthy looking men talking Portugueso under the olive trees and drinking very potent wine. They gave me a sip and I spluttered, smiling politely - it was worse than vinegar, but I didn't want to hurt her father's feelings as he had carefully cultivated his vines in Fleming Road valley. And I wanted to impress the family (future father-in-law??!!) with my appreciation of 'the good things in life', like their daughter - not the vino! Her father looked just like the Michelin tyre man who ballooned outwards. Margie's parents could barely speak 'da englees', so Margie had done very well for herself working as an accounts clerk. I suppose our gang of upper middle class twits /idiots/'dooses' coming from a privileged background must have intrigued her. Then nearly all whites in South Africa had a very sheltered life.

Another interesting, or rather embarrassing, episode occurred when I went to visit her (and her family) on my new (but second -hand) motor bike, a Yamaha 125 cc. (As a poor author now everything we buy is second-hand - except food... but don't feel sorry for us - we don't need your sympathy). I went to do a big wheelie/slide to a stop in front of the family to impress Margie. The only problem was that they had a ferocious dog on a leash and I fell within biting distance of the friendly pooch. I was soon back at Victoria Hospital, barking with rabies. That is why my bark is worse than my bite.

My sister Glenda had been working in London and travelling around Europe for some months with her girlfriend Penny and she had met a nice 'chappie', Steve, a nose picking New Zealander who later became her husband. ( Nose picking is a Kiwi national sport, as there is nothing much else going on there other than rugby, rugby and rugby. By the way, are humans the only animal species that can pick their noses?). Margie and I decided to save up for the trip to Europe and my mother was also going to come along to chaperone us on the way, then meet up with my sister. My dear mother is a warm, vivacious lady who would talk to anybody and fit in well with the 'joie de vivre' of Europe (my 'foozy' wife thinks she's just an eccentric nutter - typical down to earth Kiwi without any passion isn't she?). I like using French expressions to show off my passionate nature.

So we decided to go by sea on an Italian liner owned by the Lloyd Tristino Line. Our cabin was in the bowels of the ship (thank goodness we were travelling by sea, otherwise it could have been a bit smelly)... and the cost was only250 rand - 'bloody' amazing. But that was 1973, just before the onset of the Middle East oil crisis, when prices rocketed and sea travel became the preserve of the very wealthy. Our route was going to be Cape Town to Walvis Bay (the sea port of South West Africa, now independent Namibia), then Tenerife in the Canary islands, Barcelona, Brindisi (Italy), then on to Venice. Included in the price was a rail ticket to Amsterdam in Holland!

I don't think Margie' parents were too charmed with her travelling overseas on her own with non-ethnics. She should have been staying at home running a fish and chip shop with a nice Portuguese boy. They liked her previous boyfriend John, but were very pleasant towards me. Also it was very immoral for a good Catholic 'Potchie' girl to go overseas with her boyfriend. For us it was a trial run - a road test so that we would soon be able to take off our learner plates.

We were due to leave shortly after Margie's twenty-first. 'Snooty mother' and I were horrified at Margie's twenty-first birthday party, when amidst the brightly coloured fairy lights, Margie's father announced in his halting English that we were getting engaged ...to my absolute horror So that Margie's virtue was instantly redeemed in the eyes of the fish 'n chips brigade. That was the first I had heard of it, but being a simple good natured human beanpole I let it pass. Now in a 'proper' relationship, we were ready to embark on the journey of a lifetime.

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Chapter Two: the Europa

We had a fond farewell with all the friends and rellies at the dockside. It was quite awkward with Margie's family and mine, as well as our friends. The two camps were quite distinct - marrying across cultures, I now realize can be extremely awkward for couples. I married a foreigner, little knowing that I would be dragged 12000 km to live on their doorstep. My 'outlaws', Bob and Stella (Stardust), are a quiet super couple - hope I'm included in the will now. I think men handle this far better than women generally (my wife once had to get away over the sea away from her 'outlaws' and my beloved country - strange 'dem things' women).

After snot en trane (South African expression for guess what and tears), the Europa slowly pulled out of Duncan Dock in Cape Town harbour with the aid of the powerful little tugboat called Scuffy, breaking the many gay streamers. Thank goodness only the streamers were gay, as I seemed to attract 'queer' men all my life. I'm not at all that way inclined, but I'm very tolerant of AC/DC's and 'rear gunners'. We saw the waving arms getting smaller and smaller as Table Mountain receded into the distance. Itwas time to explore the ship and start partying not that I am much of a 'joller' (galavanter).Only a 'piepiejoller'. We were highly excited. The holiday of a lifetime had begun and it was an emotional experience for all of us. Perhaps, in retrospect, my whole life has been a long holiday.

It was a time for making new friends and ship board romances (not for me as I couldn't get mother out of sight). One hippie chap called Simon kept asking for dagga (marijuana), Hey man, you got some grass? I was a bit straight in those days, so when we arrived at the vast metropolis of Walvis Bay, I picked some grass for him and eagerly delivered it to Simon in some rolled up newspaper with the words, Hey man, Simon I got some grass for you. You should have seen the look of disappointment on his face! Walvis was really nothing more than a windy fishing village with one set of traffic lights. I don't know why South Africa took so long to hand it back to Namibia after gaining independence - I suppose it's only strategic value is the fact that it is the only major port with facilities there. Anyway, it was officially handed back last week (March 1994) and South Africa is trying to peddle all its assets at a garage sale (except for the flag pole).

Then it was on towards the Equator, where we celebrated the crossing with a Neptune ceremony of dunking in the pool and frolics in the tropics. We indulged in the life of luxury, the lives of the idle rich, laying in the hot sun all day, eating and drinking. Evenings were a great time with a good band, new friends and a dance featuring a different theme every night - one night Spanish, the next Italian and so on. During the day there was nothing much to do other than sunbathe, eat, sleep and drink - what a life! The food was magnificent - I ate everything and I started to put on some weight... at long last. I was beginning to blossom after such a slow start (I think I was in reverse for many years).

It was quite unbelievable that price of R250 for an all inclusive 10 day holiday. Even then it must have been uneconomical to run the ship, but we were third-class citizens of the Europa (PW's = poor whites) - perhaps they made money out of the posh people in first and second classes. We slept in the depths of the ship; but the rest of the time we were out and about. The 'pluty' types were paying a lot more, as I discovered when I crossed the barrier and dined in the first class section ... after first dining third class (just to compare, you see). In case you are wondering 'just' is a very South African word which means nothing really. As in 'just now', which means not 'now now', but any time from five minutes to five days! "See you 'just now'!

The days crossing the tropics were hot and sultry, and most of the time was spent in the swimming pool. Eventually we saw land ahead, a volcanic outcrop on the horizon and we were arriving in Tenerife - part of the group of Spanish controlled islands off the North West coast of Africa.

There was a great rush to get ashore and stand on foreign soil for the first time. I can't remember if I kissed it, a la Pope John-Paul, but it didn't feel any different to standing in Cape Town. A group toured the island in a bus, while we roamed the streets getting the feel of the place. I am an independent little soul by nature and I like to 'do my own thing'. We took a bus to the top of the mountain with a maniac Tenerifian driver who thought he was Carlos Sainz, the rally driver (except that Carlos was barely born at the time). I still remember that it was a very twisty road with sheer drops on the side. Didn't have to change my underrods though! We got a wonderful view of the rugged undulating terrain from up there and 'Mucha' photos were taken.

On the way back to the ship we chatted to the local shopkeepers. Margie's Portuguese was a great help, although I think the locals thought that we came from Mars... but at least we were friendly.

When the 'Europa' pulled out we got a superb view of the island and the towering mountains in the distance. One day melted into another. Isn't it wonderful with nothing to do? No work pressures, deadlines, bosses, etc! That's the life for me!