Gee, what a busy week! Early Tuesday morning last week I flew to Stockholm and the Travellers Club and their monthly black tie meeting. The speaker of the day was Elisabeth Tarras-Wahlberg, who spent a year working for the Emir of Qatar -Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani- to teach him and the Qatari royals how to be European Royals. She used to be the right hand of the Swedish King. Anyway, I always enjoy these meetings and I was primarily there to try to  hook the club up to a guided tour to Patagonia and the Eastern Island next year. I flew back to Malmö after the meeting and came back at 1 in the morning. I got up two hours later with the rest of the family to catch an early flight out of Copenhagen for Dublin and the 1st Killarney Adventure Film Festival. Once in Dublin, we took a rental and drove 5 hours across the island to possibly the new adventure hub of the world – Killarney and its wild and beautiful surroundings.

The organizers of the Festival, the Explore Foundation run by Tim Lavery and Ripley Davenport, set us up at the 5 star Killarney Park Inn Hotel and Pamela and myself had a feeling this would become a festival that we never would forget! I have been to quite a few festivals, annual dinners all over the world and such fancy things -which I like- and I just wondered how this one would differ. It was a festival like no other I have been too!

One thing I really like with the Irish is how genuinely helpful, down to earth and extremely relaxed they are. (So relaxed in many ways that the Jamaicans would be jealous!) And Tim especially, who was running the first film festival. Ripley, his partner, arrived to Ireland at the same time as us, with all of  his family of 4, to set up a new life on the island. They have left Denmark until the end of eternity. They have lived there the last 10 years, felt it was time to move to something more lively and challenging, so Ripley have set up a foundation together with the local wizard and hard man, Tim Lavery, for something very much needed in the exploration scene. Something genuine. Like Tim Lavery himself.

“I had an offer from a potential sponsor” , Tim told me, “if I brought a really big name over from Britain, one sponsor would underwrite the whole Festival, but after talking to this fella they wanted, a polar explorer from Britain, I realized that it was best for everyone involved he didn´t show up. He wanted big money to come and didn´t care who was there, what it was about or anything. Therefore, we decided not to invite climbers or south pole and north pole skiers, since they in most ways, have nothing to do with exploration, but is mainly adventures to fulfill personal dreams, but not for the good of the rest of the world.”

Tim told me this the next morning before I had a lecture at a local school for 13-14 years olds. I enjoyed it thoroughly and nothing makes me happier than when these people of the future have a lot of questions at the end and seem to enjoy every second of the talk, which is intended to inspire and is part of the Explore Foundation idea.

After the lecture we went off to meet the mayor of Killarney Cllr. Donal Grady. Therefore, the group who went to the Mayor was made up of two young, ambitious and hungry names in the adventure world, photographer and camel herder Jeremy Curl and the funny Belgian adventurer Louis Phillipe Loncke, plus the young, very gifted and very cool film maker Brian Leitten, my sponsor and good friend Steve Dutton from Termo, who signed up with Tim as a supplier and Ripley Davenport as an athlete. And me, who will never ski to any of the poles or climb Everest and call it an Expedition. I would call all three of them a holiday adventure just to possibly fulfill a personal ambition. Tim in his very courteous way lead us all to the mayors office. It turns out the the local government wasn´t only backing the Film Festival in every way, but they were as down to earth and nice to deal with as the rest of the adventurous one´s in the office!

My wife Pamela, the daughter Eva and me went over to visit Ripley Davenport and his family at their new home after lunch. I have been communicating with the Davenports since Ripleys great Mongolian Journey and his wife Laura wrote about the life as a wife of an explorer and I have admired them a lot. Keeping a family together isn´t easy for an explorer, but they have made it with their two great kids. Together, during possibly some of the worst times in the history of Ireland, due to their economical problems, the Davenports decide to move here and start a new life. That takes a lot of guts and of course they will succeed. It also turns out that they´re all even better humans than I had expected. What a fantastic family! Ripley feels like a half brother to me.

And what happened at the Film Festival?

Well, it was so relaxed I didn´t really know what was happening until the final evening, Saturday, when there were more explorers and adventurers than locals at the extremely relaxed award ceremony. Tim, this great and extremely kind and generous Irish fella, basically stood in the doorway and exit of the cinema and announced without too much detail and explanations that Ed Staffords film from his amazing Amazon walk had won in competition with about 200 other films. I had left my three films, but have no idea what happened, except since they were in a foreign tongue with no translations, it couldn´t be understood by the jury. Which was made up of Tim and Ripley.

Whilst the rest of this great and very enjoyable and funny lot of people went off to a bar with Irish music, we left for Dublin airport at 2.30 morning. I had saved 20 dollars by booking an early flight.

I am very happy to have been part of the 1st Killarney Adventure Festival!

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I was happy to see that my wife enjoyed the possibility. So, a week of hunting for a gown, shoes and so on, started.  And yesterday, we went to the ball. It was the Swedish version of Travellers Club. It was their 100th Anniversary at Grand Hotel. Pretty much 300 guests turned up in white tie and ball gowns, most of them had reached a very humble, but considerable age. From all walks of life. Most men very well decorated with medals as far as North Korea and many foreign guest attended. Ambassadors.Travelers and Norwegians. It was a three course meal with good wine and aperitifs and interesting table neighbors. And my wife was the most beautiful woman of them all! When the Swedish version of Pavarotti, Raymond Björling, imitated the grand tenor, I looked at my wife, shivered and I realized I am probably the most fortunate man on earth!

Half way into the dessert, my friend Nima Sarvestani, who was looking after Eva together with his wife, Maryam, send a text on my mobile:

“Eva is crying and crying. She has drunk all the milk you left, can Pamela come?”

Pamela rushed off as a rocket and…almost lost her shoe, just like Cinderella! Well, hopefully that is the sign that the prince is already found….Anyway, she told me to stay since our great friend Gunnar had put so much effort getting us there. However, the party kind of died when Pamela left, so I cruised around socializing. Thinking about Eva.

“Mikael” , somebody asked me when we were socializing in a break, “Do you feel any affinity with the people who started this club? Real explorers?”

“If I had been born in those days, I wouldn´t even have been invited to this anniversary” , I answered; “Because people of my background wouldn´t have been explorers.”

And, every time I wish I had been born in a time where you really had to figure out your way, in the days before maps where drawn, I realize I am so fortunate, no matter what, to be born in this time. I wouldn´t even have made it out of my village back than! I really enjoy these occasions. Great people, great experiences and amazing life stories. And when Pamela afterwards said:

“I know what to aim for in life now!”

I knew I had done something right. I am Mr Fortunate to have such a partner of life!

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So why is it male explorers need to declare themselves the best, the fittest and the strongest adventurers on earth? And why, oh why do they only talk about themselves?

We definitely need more female explorers, because without them we could become extinct.

Let me explain: Recently, I was sat next to a publisher of a famous US outdoor magazine. He sighed and said:

“Every day, as I receive letters and articles from people making expeditions and wanting to sell their material, I ask myself: “Hasn’t adventure come further than this? Is it still just white men with icicles in their beards dishing out the same old silly story?”

I couldn’t agree more. As no doubt do many people in the extreme sports and exploring fraternity. I am so fed up with this macho nonsense! It’s time for a change. We need more female narrators. We need a female perspective and men have to start thinking more like women. I think this is crucial to whether the public remain interested in adventure and exploration in the future, or switch off forever.

What men often fail to note is that there are still considerable differences in how a story can be told. For example, this morning I was searching the internet for stories about Himalayan expeditions. I found this report by a pair of male climbers:

“It’s been a tough and troublesome today. Our backpacks weigh about 60 pounds. Today we struggled for six hours. Tomorrow we will continue and pitch our final camp at 7,500 meters. We won’t sleep much tonight, but we are feeling all right.”

Yes there are many women explorers. Many find it difficult to get their voices heard but they are there. Wings WorldQuest is dedicated to women explorers. We now have 60 Fellows who are making important discoveries throughout the world. We have sponsored more than 40 flag expeditions. We have an education program that has reached 40,000 young people to inspire them to get engaged with learning. Exploration is not about the person as much as it is about the quest for knowledge. Check out the website www.wingsworldquest.org. Also my book Women of Discovery about 85 women from a dozen cultures who over the last 2000 years made important discoveries through exploration...Milbry Polk

Other than their closest relatives, I find it hard to believe anyone is really interested in this stuff. Personally, I find it mind-numbingly boring. Endless even.

So, let’s compare this with a separate account. This time from an expedition on the same mountain, at the same time, but written by a woman:

“Why am I never satisfied? I’m thinking I should have exercised more. I also think I should have been more mentally prepared. Actually, I’ve been preparing for five years. And trained five times a week. But I don’t think I’m a good enough climber. But that’s the way I am in everyday life as well. I could be better at cooking, decorating, fashion, my job. I could be a better wife, friend, and so on. Still, I am not giving up my dream of climbing an 8,000-meter peak. But will I make it?”

Wonderfully thrilling! The fact that, in this case, the men reached the top and not the woman is unimportant. What is interesting, however, is her story. This is how tomorrow’s adventurers, when they are documenting expeditions need to be writing. This is how people lecturing should be talking. It’s the drama, the personal commitment we want, not another hero story.

An even better way is to recount the story of someone else; men should take inspiration from the achievement of others and not just try to impress with tales of hardship: We’re bored of it!

I worry that if we don’t change this male-dominated culture, we will see fewer professional adventurers and explorers, because less people will want to read about them. Women, save us from extinction!

Female explorers remember: Anything and everything is possible! We’ve known this for the last 150,000 years, maybe even for the last 3.2 million years, ever since the bipedal Lucy began her well-documented excursion…

Ladies, let us know your thoughts, and guys get tapping too. We are all in this together.

Guest writer number 14, Barry Moss, is one of my very best friends. He is pretty much good at everything he puts his heart to.  A real human being. I have begged him for ages to write about his ideas about life. Finally, he put his Sunday paper down, jumped the morning bacon and eggs and put pen to paper. Enjoy!

Planes, Volcanoes and Everything.

My name is Barry Moss and I am the Chairman of the British Chapter of the Explorers Club.

My great friend Mikael Strandberg has asked me to write something for his blog.

Having become a slave to my own computer in recent years, I realise that I have unwittingly turned into an addled junkie, trying to read, absorb and digest far too much information. How much of this information will I use? I guess very little of it, but like any drug I am drawn back into its clutches.  So, if you are like me, I hope that this short essay will only take up a few minutes of your valuable time and will be interesting enough for you to continue to read to the end of this page at least.  I promise that I will not fill you head with too much useless information.

I consider myself fortunate enough to live some days in London and other days in a small mediaeval village complete with castle on the beautiful and wild East Coast of England.

The county of Suffolk is known for its big skies. But what is a big sky?  Isn’t the sky huge everywhere?  Well, apparently not and I would agree that this part of Suffolk does have big skies, only today the sky was different.

I try to motivate myself when I am here to take a long early morning walk to observe the birds, the hares, the changes in scenery and everything.  I was not disappointed this morning but one thing was eerily missing.  The all too familiar demented white slashes across a perfect blue canvas had gone.  The picture was pristine, the big powder blue sky had been repaired; no aircraft contrails chalked across it.  Situated under one of the main east-west air corridors in Northern Europe, I realised that I was looking at a vista that has rarely been seen here since the beginning of the jet age.

I have been on the periphery of aviation industry for most of my life and it remains a technology that still manages to thrill and captivate me.  Some days I am fortunate enough to look out of my office window across the river Ore to the secretive Orford Ness with its Mayan like ruins where Britain’s atomic weapons trigger mechanisms were tested in dark, frightening, sinister laboratories.  I am at first drawn by the noise, the unmistakable sound of a Merlin aircraft engine.  I search above me and to the distance beyond and there it is, a Supermarine Spitfire diving, rolling, dancing across the big blue sky.

My interest in aviation goes back to when I was a small boy.  I vividly recall dreary, depressing and austere Saturdays in East London sitting on a red Routemaster double decker bus.  I rarely noticed that the bus ride was often mundane as I would be completely immersed in the picture on the box I had in my hands.  One Saturday it could be a Hawker Tempest firing rockets at a line of Panzer tanks the next Saturday on the bus with my father and twin brother it could be a Dassault Mirage III taking on a MiG jet of some type or another in a dog fight.

I was often too eager to bother to follow the Airfix kit assembly instructions, only to find that I had glued the two halves of the fuselage together before inserting the pilot sitting in his ejector seat or the undercarriage nose-gear.  The two halves would then be prised apart with a knife or some other blunt instrument which often resulted in the sort of destruction done by metal fatigue test rigs on real aircraft.  Corrosive glue would be unwittingly smeared across clear plastic canopies, resulting in disappointment at the irreparable blur that I had caused.  Silver paint on wings would have finger marks on it or brush hairs or dust. Transfers applied before the paint had dried.   It didn’t really matter too much because the image that these models represented was far greater than my childhood imperfections at assembling and painting them.

My father however was a talented modeller who had the patience, skill and aptitude to build model aircraft out of bits of timber completed with electric motors that turned propellers powered by tardis lookalike batteries.  His real passion however was lead soldiers and I am now at the age where I share his frustration that my eyesight is no longer any good for intricate or detailed work, even with spectacles.

Suddenly!.....Barry, during this circling activity, he foundhis call of life!

Between then and now I have been fortunate enough to have worked with real aircraft manufacturers and have visited super-jumbo passenger aircraft assembly halls that are so large that it is difficult to gain a sense of perspective and scale.  I have flown in biplanes and was once fortunate enough to fly a Mig 25 interceptor at three times the speed of sound to the edge of space.

As a child I remember living on the penultimate floor of a block of council flats with my grandparents. Looking over the balcony, the immediate foreground still contained sporadic barren areas of buddleia, smashed cellar caverns and rubble thanks to Adolf Hitler, his Luftwaffe and the Nazi’s secret, terrifying V1 flying bombs and V2 guided missiles. Churchill had employed my grandfather for five years to try to shoot such things down from the rolling deck of a high octane fuel carrying tanker. He reckoned he had hit one or two before the day when a Dornier or something similar dropped a bomb on him before he could take aim. Fortunately for him, although he was wounded, it failed to explode and ignite the tonnes of aviation fuel onboard.

Looking up at the sky from the balcony, my grandfather and I watched the first generation passenger jets on their landing approaches into London Airport.  Their deafening four jet engines pierced and crackled and bellowed trails of smoke, in fact similar shades of black, grey and white as the volcanic ash presently spewing into the atmosphere.  In those days only the rich and famous flew in jet planes, a fact that didn’t seem to bother us too much then.

Now we all fly.  The rich and business people in cocooned sarcophaguses called ‘flatbed’ seats where you may not get a glimpse of the person sitting next to you for 12 hours.  That’s unless of course you need to visit the toilet in the dark and you sit there pondering for probably an hour or so how you are going to hoist yourself over your neighbour’s legs without waking him or her up and then doing the same thing in reverse. Having practiced this exercise for many years, I have concluded that even with the skill, training and dexterity of a Chinese child tightrope acrobat it is a manoeuvre that is almost impossible to perfectly execute, particularly in slight turbulence.

Meanwhile Joe public down the back have paid to have an even bigger problem with knees wedged up against seat backs like a created veal calf.  Only the super rich, famous and investment bankers have cracked the problem by flying in private jets.  However even this indulgence may not be all it seems as many smaller private jets do not have toilets.  I have a friend who shall remain nameless who has to live with a major embarrassment for the rest of her life. She had to ask her male colleagues on a tiny private jet to look away whilst she had to do what she had to do in a wine bottle.  Imagine walking into the office the next day knowing that everyone knows that’s what you did.  Surely you would prefer to have crashed in flames and never be seen again?

As I write this a 1960’s vintage Jet Provost two seat trainer has disturbed the peace and tranquillity of Orford.  One part of me rises with excitement to try to see it but it has dipped down below the rooftops.  It is like trying to find a mosquito at night in your bedroom with the lights off.  Another part of me asks is it right that someone having a good time can create so much noise or am I just getting old and cynical?   Was I concerned about the people over the Russian countryside when I was on a jolly flying one of the noisiest and most powerful jet fighter aircraft ever built?  I do recall having some sense of guilt at the time but was too captivated by the thrill of the experience.

Barry often thinks about his childhood, which put him in the right direction of life.

The eruption of the Icelandic volcano with the unpronounceable name (OK Eyjafjallajoekull if you insist) means that some of us may have to go without our Kenyan sugar snap peas for a few days and we all know of someone who is either marooned or unable to be with their families and friends. It may be that a little fissure in the Earth’s surface will change everything and make us realise that nothing it totally predictable, nor should it be.

I’m now looking out across to the present Orford Ness lighthouse that has arced its narrow white beam of light across the North Sea at night for nearly 200 years.  Because of global warming and rising sea levels, sometime in the next three years, the lighthouse is likely to be washed away into the abyss.   “Don’t worry” they say,” it was old technology that was about to be replaced by GPS anyway”.

Safe marine and air navigation has always depended on lights. Aircraft still reassuringly head towards the light of the Orfordness lighthouse whilst crossing the treacherous North Sea at night. Before the first lighthouse was erected on Orfordness, in one stormy night alone in 1637, 32 vessels were smashed aground onto Orford Ness.

Have we really become so clever and dependent on fossil fuels and addicted to computers and technology to ignore the rages of nature?  Recent events have shown how unprepared we really are.  What happens if we become too compliant on technology, flying and oil and everything?  Can we be assured that business will continue as usual or will all the lights go out everywhere?

A bit more up to date photos, see here and check his CV!

The other night I went to the monthly lecture at Travellers Club in Stockholm. I try to go there frequently. I like the surroundings at Sällskapet, the atmosphere, the lectures, but most of all the people, the members of the Travellers Club. A great lot of people with the most extra ordinary experiences from all over the world. I also go there to get inspired and maybe find an idea to what my next Expedition will be. This time it was a young fella who lectured, a great guy, very friendly and an interesting lecture. Technically. BUT, I am so fed up the attitude of todays adventurers and so called explorers. They are always the best on earth and they only talk about themselves. Incessently. And it is always the same message:

Everything is possible!

We´ve known this for the last 150 000 years, maybe even 3.2 million years back whenLucy went out for a excursion. I don´t know why it is so popular today to listen to this kind of extremely no-good-for-mankind-talk. And that lecture reminded me of the one in February 2008. Same deal. Then I remembered I did write an article about the same issue two years ago after having had the honour to lecture at Explorers Club in New York. This is what I wrote for Utemagasinet:

”…and then the mountain spoke to me, saying: ´Have faith in me,  and you will reach your final 8,000-meter peak.´ And look, there I am on the mountain top!”

This is, more or less, how the famous American mountaineer closed his lecture at the Explorers Club´s 102nd Annual Dinner at the Waldorf Astoria in New York. Before him, a young guy, elected Man of the Year by Backpacker Magazine, had recounted the story of how he crossed the U.S. by foot from west to east in record time.

”Nothing is impossible! Anyone can do it!” he summarized, displaying a photo of himself posing in the sunset; his gaze fixed beyond the horizon, his muscles flexed and back held straight. An extremely traditional, male image of Adventure and Expeditions. I think I saw Buzz Aldrin, astronaut and second man on the moon, smirk. Woman kosmonaut Valentina Tereshkova simply left when the so-called adventurers entered the stage. Passionately, she had told her own story, filled with fear and amazement at the incomprehensions of life while she, as the first woman ever, rampaged round the moon 48 times.

The Annual Dinner carried the theme ”What´s Left to Explore”. And how this should be brought to an audience. I think very few of the 1,100 spectators enjoyed the adventurers´ talks. One of our neighbours at the table, the editor of a wellknown American outdoor magazine, said:

Papua New Guinea felt like one of the last places on earth I have visited, where there might at least be some white spots of discovery to be made. On the knowledge front.....

”Every day, as I receive letters and articles from people making expeditions and wanting to sell their material, I ask myself: ”Hasn´t Adventure come further than this? Is it still just white males with icicles in their beards dishing out the same old silly story?”

The reason why I´m bringing up this very important subject, is that every week I get a number of e-mails from men and women, young and old, who want to take off on an expedition or adventure. The majority want to know three things: ”What kind of equipment should I use?”, ”How do I get sponsors?” and ”How do I get the media interested in me, so I can make a living selling articles and lecturing?”

There is only one answer: Our view of Adventure and Expeditions must be renewed. Firstly, there has to be an interesting story. The times are gone when a spectator finds it interesting to listen to the hackneyed theme of ”anything is possible”; a story centered around dirty underwear, heroic struggle and white men with icicles in their beards who have managed to reach the North Pole, using a shopping cart and an oar as their only means of transport. Secondly, we need more women narrators. We need a female perspective. Men have to start thinking like women. I think this is crucial to whether the public will continue being interested in expeditions at all.

There are still considerable differences in how a story can be told. For example, I was searching the internet for stories about Swedish expeditions in the Himalayas. A couple of men report as follows:

“It´s been tough and troublesome. Our backpacks weigh about 15 kilos, but all has turned out well. Today we struggled for six hours. Tomorrow we will continue, and then we will use our final camp at 7,500 meters. We will rise at about 12 o´clock local time, put our tents up and melt snow for water. We won´t sleep much, but we are feeling all right.”

Incredibly boring for everyone except the storyteller´s closest relatives or someone else in the know. To be compared with another account from an expedition on the same mountain, at the same time, written by a woman in the same situation:

“Why am I never satisfied? I´m thinking I should have exercised more. Actually, I´ve been exercising at least five days a week. I think I should have been more mentally prepared. Actually, I´ve been preparing for five years. I don´t think I´m a good enough climber. But that´s the way I am in everyday life as well. I could be better at cooking, decorating, fashion, my job. I could be a better wife, friend, and so on. Maybe I need the inherent power of dissatisfaction to be able to hold on and not give up my dream of climbing an 8,000-meter peak. Because it has been necessary – but now I´m going to give it a try.”

Wonderfully thrilling and dramaturgical! The fact that the men reached the top and not the woman, is utterly unimportant. What is interesting is her story. This is how tomorrow´s adventurers on expedition must think to survive. Even better is to tell a story of someone else but yourself. Which is what I did in New York. When I took the stage after the climber, the first thing I talked about was how ridiculous all the clever white males with icicles in their beards are. I continued by informing the audience about the Siberians and their everyday life, which makes a contemporary expedition look like a school outing by comparison. The response was fairly good – a ten-minute standing ovation.

Please continue to discuss the subject here!

Please continue the debate on the meaning of exploration and how we should look at it in the future!

Tired after the lecture at The Travellers Club in London. Together with three of my very best friends, Barry, Pamela, who will join me on the Expedition and Peter, who came all the way from Sweden to honor me. The fourth person is a British adventurer namned Neil Laughton.

“Olly!” I screamed in the phone, “I need your help! I have deleted all my photos from Siberia and I hope I have left a memory stick with the slide show in a small rucksack in your flat! Can you get it? Where are you?”

“Don´t worry”, Ollie said calmly, “Am not far from home. What time is the lecture??”

“6.30 I think” I answered in panic, “No photos, no lecture!”

Imagine yourself. As an explorer, there are 4 venues which are more important than others. It is the Royal Geographic Society in London, The Explorers Club in New York, The Travellers Club in London and the National Geographic Society in Washington. I have been honored to lecture at the first two and suddenly I had a chance to lecture at the legendary Travellers Club in London. It is a privilege for few. Imagine than when you turn up, set up your laptop and realize that before leaving Sweden for a very long time, I took away the Siberian slide show…I panicked. Ran up to my room and I phoned Ollie. He said he had just left home. In fact, he was standing outside 106 Pall Mall and the Club. He took a taxi back and an hour later returned. Just before the lecture.

I have no idea if the lecture went well or not. But it was a highlight in my life. Some of my best friends were there. Peter, he came all the way from Sweden to honor me. Barry arranged it. Sam came with his wife and Stephen just made after visiting Jeddah with his great art. One of the biggest surprises was the well-known investment banker David Chaldecott who came with special greetings from the Sultan and Sultana of Hadramawt!

The saviour -Ollie Harry- resting after his mad dash at the Travellers Club

The lecture? Well, Barry wrote this fantastic piece of warmth:

The Travellers Club in London’s Pall Mall is perhaps the epitome of a past
tradition of London gentleman’s clubs.  No lady members, a smoking room that
you can no longer smoke in and a good bottle of Club claret.  It was the
first commission of Sir Charles Barry, the architect best known for having
designed  the Houses of Parliament.  He did such a good job for the
Travellers that he was also commissioned to design the Reform Club next
door.

The Travellers has an eclectic mix of members comprised of diplomats,
explorers, military men and who knows who.  The common factor is that
between them they have all been around a bit and have experienced a few
things in their time.  However, following various comments made by guests
following the Library lecture last Monday evening, only a few said that they
had ever witnessed a lecture to compare with Mikael Strandberg’s journey
along the Kolyma River in North-East Siberia.

Mikael’s library lecture, given to a joint meeting of the British Chapter of
The Explorers Club and The Travellers Club was full to capacity and there
was an expectation that something unique was about to be witnessed.  The
audience of seasoned travellers seated in what had been the Queen Mother’s
favourite room in London were to be far from disappointed.

Nobody could have imagined the extreme hardship, cold and danger that
Strandberg and his companion had experienced on his last major expedition.
The beauty of the river, the friendliness of the people seemed oddly
misplaced with the horrors and evil that took place in that part of Siberia
during the Soviet era.  Many of the locals still longed for past days where
security and a social system provided for most of their basic needs and
Mikael’s lecture made it clear that many still yearned for the return of the
security and certainty that the State had provided prior to the transition
to a semi-capitalist society.

Mikael’s lecture is crafted like a nordic epic and in some ways that is
exactly what it is.  A mixture of a quest for the meaning of life, trials,
tribulations, fearce animals, spells and  signs.  It is about the search for
oneness with nature, survival, harmony and the fellowship of man.

Strandberg is an explorer of extremes.  His humour is infectious and crosses
any language barrier.  But most important, he is an astute observer of
cultures, many of which are likely to be lost in the next generation or
two.  His expeditions are not only adventurous, they are also a record of
things past that may never be eye-witnessed again.  Communication is
Mikael’s craft and long may that continue.

My great friend Barry with wife Fionnola resting after lecture...both happy I hope with the talk...

Barry Moss FRGS
Chairman, British Chapter of The Explorers Club and Member of The Travellers
Club

A full house of Travellers and Explorers Club members and guests enjoyed Mikael Strandberg’s talk on the Kolyma River on 19 October. Mikael was an especially entertaining speaker, fluent and witty; the Chairman tells me that he emerged from the talk being totally convinced that it is very, very cold in Siberia.

David Broadhead

Secretary

The Travellers Club 29 October 2009

The same applies when you go looking for sponsors before a major expedition, because I reckon the upcoming Expeditions, both of them, or should I say, all three, they will cost a huge amount of dollars. Therefore, the last week I have started looking for partners, but it takes a lot of work. And meeting a variety of people who can help, inspire and give you ideas is extremely important and that is what I have done for a month now.

Today I went to Travellers Club of Sweden to listen to a lecture by a well-known Swedish TV-anchor, Arne Weise, and shared a table with my friend and new partner Anders Åberg and a very good friend of his, Claes Ahlin, a lawyer with a big smile. We were able to shoot some ideas around and now we have one very good idea of a possible major sponsor with international connections. See how it goes, I will keep you updated on the developments. And to give you an idea what I look for regarding the choice of sponsors, just have a look at the sponsors from the Siberian Expedition here.

“It is travelling like this you really get to know people” , Anders said whilst having a short brake at a Truck Stop in Luxemburg yesterday, “And it is impossible to hide from other people who you really are.”

Anders is a great guy. Middle aged, with a bit of a pouch and an everlasting smile, once an actor who received the Swedish variety of an Oscar –Guldbaggen- who turned into an award winning scriptwriter and documentary maker. He´s extremely honest, agreeable and socially outgoing. He’s a member of Travellers Club of Sweden, just like me, and that is where I met him the first time years ago and we have on and off said that we just have to do a project together. And since we´re both soul searchers, the main project we´ve had in mind for a couple of years, is to do a documentary about people who do a pilgrimage, like the very popular one to Santiago de Compostela. A pilgrimage made famous on our time by the Brazilian writer Paul Coelho. Then we realized not long ago, that this pilgrimage has become something very popular among Westerners, as kind of another hike to add to their trekking CV and we agreed at that moment, that it then had turned into something not so interesting to document. Kind of old news. Then I introduced Anders, just by pure chance, to Facebook, which changed his life in many ways and a discovery he will make a documentary about. Anyway, when I sent out a Newsletter about me preparing for the next Expedition, which would involve deserts, he said he knew a French bloke who 30 years ago walked three times through the Sahara, and I just had to meet him in his village not far from Anders grand house in Murviel. That is how I ended up in Murviel, a picturesque village I left yesterday together with Anders and a relative of his wife, Svante, in a new 2008 Ford Mustang convertible. And quite a few bottles of local red wine in the boot. Now, this amicable bloke named Svante, is kind of an oddball in his own ways, brought up in the U.K and posh schools, meaning he speaks perfect upper class English with the odd hint of a stiff upper lip, who turned into a construction worker living in Surahammar, a kind of a back of beyond settlement in the middle of Sweden, who recently lost his job and came to Murviel to help Anders out. I just want to add that I speak cockney Essex English. All this has made Anders laugh even more than before. Together we´ve travelled three days through Europe and become great friends. That´s what happens whilst travelling in the intimacy of a Ford Mustang Convertible.

However, professionally, the most important thing is that we have realized that Anders would be a perfect partner for me at base. We don´t know how yet, but we´re making plans. It could mean a major difference in every single way, when it comes to everything that concerns the build up for a great and major Expedition. Keep your eyes open, we will know soon….the thing is, time is running fast and the Expedition is not far off and I hardly have neither any cash or sponsors ready…..but I feel very confident regarding the future.

This week has made a major difference. It could mean much more then a series of six documentaries broadcasted globally. It could mean there is a future after the Great Expedition To Come….

Me together with a good friend, La Baronessa Tamara, trying to figure out why anybody really explores anymore...or what one should explore....

The other night I went to the monthly lecture at Travellers Club in Stockholm. I try to go there frequently. I like the surroundings at Sällskapet, the atmosphere, the lectures, but most of all the people, the members of the Travellers Club. A great lot of people with the most extra ordinary experiences from all over the world. I also go there to get inspired and maybe find an idea to what my next Expedition will be. This time it was a young fella who lectured, a great guy, very friendly and an interesting lecture. Technically. BUT, I am so fed up the attitude of todays adventurers and so called explorers. They are always the best on earth and they only talk about themselves. Incessently. And it is always the same message:

Everything is possible!

We´ve known this for the last 150 000 years, maybe even 3.2 million years back whenLucy went out for a excursion. I don´t know why it is so popular today to listen to this kind of extremely no-good-for-mankind-talk. And that lecture reminded me of the one I witnessed together with my very good friend, La Contessa here on the photo, in February. Same deal. Then I remembered I did write an article about the same issue two years ago after having had the honour to lecture at Explorers Club in New York. This is what I wrote for Utemagasinet:

”…and then the mountain spoke to me, saying: ´Have faith in me, Ed, and you will reach your final 8,000-meter peak.´ And look, there I am on the mountain top!”

This is, more or less, how the famous American mountaineer Ed Viesturs closed his lecture at the Explorers Club´s 102nd Annual Dinner at the Waldorf Astoria in New York. Before him, a young guy named Andy Skurka, elected Man of the Year by Backpacker Magazine, had recounted the story of how he crossed the U.S. by foot from west to east in record time.

”Nothing is impossible! Anyone can do it!” he summarized, displaying a photo of himself posing in the sunset; his gaze fixed beyond the horizon, his muscles flexed and back held straight. An extremely traditional, male image of Adventure and Expeditions. I think I saw Buzz Aldrin, astronaut and second man on the moon, smirk. Woman kosmonaut Valentina Tereshkova simply left when the so-called adventurers entered the stage. Passionately, she had told her own story, filled with fear and amazement at the incomprehensions of life while she, as the first woman ever, rampaged round the moon 48 times.

The Annual Dinner carried the theme ”What´s Left to Explore”. And how this should be brought to an audience. I think very few of the 1,100 spectators enjoyed the adventurers´ talks. One of our neighbours at the table, the editor of a wellknown American outdoor magazine, said:

”Every day, as I receive letters and articles from people making expeditions and wanting to sell their material, I ask myself: ”Hasn´t Adventure come further than this? Is it still just white males with icicles in their beards dishing out the same old silly story?”

The reason why I´m bringing up this very important subject, is that every week I get a number of e-mails from men and women, young and old, who want to take off on an expedition or adventure. The majority want to know three things: ”What kind of equipment should I use?”, ”How do I get sponsors?” and ”How do I get the media interested in me, so I can make a living selling articles and lecturing?”

There is only one answer: Our view of Adventure and Expeditions must be renewed. Firstly, there has to be an interesting story. The times are gone when a spectator finds it interesting to listen to the hackneyed theme of ”anything is possible”; a story centered around dirty underwear, heroic struggle and white men with icicles in their beards who have managed to reach the North Pole, using a shopping cart and an oar as their only means of transport. Secondly, we need more women narrators. We need a female perspective. Men have to start thinking like women. I think this is crucial to whether the public will continue being interested in expeditions at all.

There are still considerable differences in how a story can be told. For example, I was searching the internet for stories about Swedish expeditions in the Himalayas. A couple of men report as follows:

“It´s been tough and troublesome. Our backpacks weigh about 15 kilos, but all has turned out well. Today we struggled for six hours. Tomorrow we will continue, and then we will use our final camp at 7,500 meters. We will rise at about 12 o´clock local time, put our tents up and melt snow for water. We won´t sleep much, but we are feeling all right.”

Incredibly boring for everyone except the storyteller´s closest relatives or someone else in the know. To be compared with another account from an expedition on the same mountain, at the same time, written by a woman in the same situation:

“Why am I never satisfied? I´m thinking I should have exercised more. Actually, I´ve been exercising at least five days a week. I think I should have been more mentally prepared. Actually, I´ve been preparing for five years. I don´t think I´m a good enough climber. But that´s the way I am in everyday life as well. I could be better at cooking, decorating, fashion, my job. I could be a better wife, friend, and so on. Maybe I need the inherent power of dissatisfaction to be able to hold on and not give up my dream of climbing an 8,000-meter peak. Because it has been necessary – but now I´m going to give it a try.”

Wonderfully thrilling and dramaturgical! The fact that the men reached the top and not the woman, is utterly unimportant. What is interesting is her story. This is how tomorrow´s adventurers on expedition must think to survive. Even better is to tell a story of someone else but yourself. Which is what I did in New York. When I took the stage after Ed Viesturs, the first thing I talked about was how ridiculous all the clever white males with icicles in their beards are. I continued by informing the audience about the Siberians and their everyday life, which makes a contemporary expedition look like a school outing by comparison. The response was fairly good – a ten-minute standing ovation.

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