It all started in Sweden. I started there, at least.
A bit chubby, tired, strong and lovin' the ladies!
 |
 |
 |
 |
Despite being unanimously elected best country, Sweden is a tad cold. Grandpa loves my down filled mountaineering suit. And we all love dancing around poles in weird dresses.
 |
 |
 |
Ah, those young days of long hair in a VW Microbus. I also went to India and caught the asiabug. As well as a couple of other bugs.
 |
 |
 |
 |
Upon arrival in Timor, on my first UN gig, I learnt that bikes and kittens were as wonderful as they were a nuisance.
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
I managed to scoot off to Laos, Bali and Cambodia whilst working in Timor.
 |
 |
 |
 |
After two years, I made a daring escape to Sri Lanka, and made my home on a hilltop overlooking the Mahaweli River. Nice office, neh? Motorcycling was tough business - all that diesel smoke...
 |
 |
Luckily, my mom came down to set me straight.
 |
Little did she (nor I) know that the UN would sink its claws into me again, starting out in India, then eloping to New York.
 |
 |
 |
 |
After NY, it was off to Sri Lanka again, where I dealt with the humanitarian response to the troubled areas in the North & East for UNFPA.
 |
 |
 |
When I could, I escaped to the hills of Kandy or beaches of Unuwatuna for yoga and meditation.
 |
 |
I managed to bring my Royal Enfield from India, it was a joy and a royal pain, depending on mood. Luckily, I met a group of really good mechanics.
 |
 |
 |
 |
Other days I read, dressed up as Ken, or giggled at Maoist misspellings. Life was good.
 |
 |
 |