Mission aborted, sadly

I left Istanbul just over two weeks ago - and flew out to see my brother in Brisbane. I then went straight out to New Zealand to see some of my dad's family - an aunt and several cousins who I had never met. This wouldn't have been possible had I cycled all the way, so this is a positive thing I can take from curtailing the trip short.

The bizarre freak injury - I've been thinking - might have been caused on top of the hill in Greece when I stopped to take a photo of that cow. I didn't un-clip my cleats in time, so fell over sideways in slow-motion. I might have jarred something on the nicely named 'pubic ridge' while doing so. Just as I was advised by the doctor in Thessaloniki, time and patience was the remedy for this. It's even stranger that a) I've never had this injury before; b) the saddle I was using has been fine for thousands of miles I'd done on it and c) it happened after 12 days and 1,500 miles of plain-cycling. As I've written in a previous post, time was not on my side (I'm starting teacher training in early September), so getting to Australia was pushing my body to a physical limit from the outset. With that in mind, it's not really a surprise that something like this happened. In fact, the several-times-round-the-world cyclist John Harwood warned me that this could happen.

Am I disappointed? A little. Does it matter? No, probably not. But I am sincerely grateful to those who donated to Shelter for this trip - and I received an email from Shelter thanking us for what has been raised so far. Ultimately it doesn't matter whether you scale great heights or trek across deserts and frozen tundra - doing these things doesn't make you 'more' human than others. Some of the wisest, most worldly people you meet rarely leave their hometowns. And some of the most narrow-minded, ignorant people you will find travelling the world, ticking off countries armed with a lonely planet. It's these people that you think would be better off staying at home reading a book.

Life is a series of successes and failures; often one weaves its way into the other so that we can't see which one is which. There are no perfect successes; nor are there any abject failures. Fate spins a complicated thread.

These things happen - I know of other long-distance cyclists who have encountered similar cruel twists of fate. But there are some things I have learnt on this shortened trip, the most important of which is this:

What are life's adventures if not shared with someone you love? The endless pursuit of individual liberty and happiness (Thatcherism, basically) is just that - endless. It is not a destination that you reach after ticking off the right number of countries. Happiness is happiness shared. It took Alex McCandless to die from toxic wild potato seeds in Alaska to realise this. Me, I just got a trapped nerve behind my balls. This might sound like sour grapes, but it feels more like bitter pills with a slightly sweet after-taste. There's much to look forward to.

Although I didn't reach Australia as planned, I would still urge you to donate to Shelter if you haven't already. The homeless and the under-housed in the UK continue to live on the edge, disempowered and disenfranchised from improving their situation, stuck in a poverty trap with little way out. Homelessness also goes hand-in-hand with unemployment, mental illness and drug abuse, but providing individuals and families with access to safe and secure housing can help solve all of these problems at once.