When Havana Club rum approached me a few months ago and asked if I’d like to be a judge for a Facebook competition of theirs in Havana, Cuba, it didn’t take me long to decide. Of course I said yes!

I’ve always been curious about the island, but it was never on my list of ‘must-visit-destinations’, more somewhere to call into enroute to another destination, maybe Brazil or Argentina.

There was very little I knew about the country. Yes – Che Guevara and Fidel Castro are a huge part of the history, yes – rum and cigars are part of the vernacular, yes – music and dancing are the rhythm of the population, but that’s about as far as my limited knowledge stretched.

I arrived in Havana by taxi late in the afternoon, with the last rays of sunlight striking the weary facades of the architecturally stunning colonial buildings. The city has been seemingly locked in a time warp since the start of the revolution in the 1950’s; behemoth American cars patrol the streets gushing clouds of smoke from tired engine blocks, vendors occupy street corners offering cab rides, cheap cigars and rum, and the national paint supplier appears to have packed up shop long ago leaving glorious buildings to fend for themselves against the elements.

But that’s what makes it so bloody good. Havana is amok with character, history and a stylish exuberance suitably lost across America and Europe and never even found in Australia. The closest I’ve come are the streets of Maputo in Mozambique – a former Portuguese colony, which echo similar sights and sounds. People approach you in the street, not always wanting to sell you something, many just to engage in conversation or practice their English, all have a story to tell.

During the week I spent wandering the streets I watched, listened and learnt a huge amount about this fascinating country and the hand that’s been dealt to it over the past two hundred years. Advancing naval fleets from England, Spain, France and Portugal shaped its older history, whilst the USA continues to exert pressure today on the people and the government. I’m undecided as to who’s right and wrong in the bigger scheme of things.

The lives of the people I engaged with; the fishermen on the pier, the locals socialising on the Malecon, the musicians and dancers in the bars and the old men in the street all left an imprint on my psyche. They smile freely, live in the moment, love conversation, are family-orientated and on the outside appear happy.

The country is a photographers dream; colourful buildings, old cars, moody skies, powerful waves and crusty characters. With mojitos, cigars and salsa getting most of the touristic attention, the real story lies a level back from this predictable face. Dig a little deeper and the city unravels itself for you, it just takes a little time, a returned smile and a understanding of basic Spanish.

There were far too many great images of the city I captured to put them all here, so have a look at my Flickr account here for more.

Time for a few weeks at home now, I’ve spent the first half of the year in airports,

Ben

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(written just after descending the final peak)

Leaving the mining town of Newman behind, we hit the road towards Mt Meharry along with every single mining road train in the state it would seem! Convoys of heavy traffic filing between the gigantic man-made holes in the ground and the coastal ports. It’s clear to see how Australia’s economy has kept so buoyant whilst the world’s has taken a dive when you see quite how much of the surrounding lands are being sent overseas in the form of ore and coal.

The smallest of the Aussie 8 mountains stood before us, a 4WD track winding it’s way to the summit, but we needed to scale it on foot. That was the deal after all – to climb the eight peaks.

Packs loaded with water, tired legs warmed up once more, and the tracker reset – we we’re off again. Pat, Luke and I have developed a great rapport over the last week. We now understand each others running styles, work well together as a team and push each other along, always striving to reach the summit as quickly as possible. The only race we face each day is against the clock not each other.

And before we knew it we were there, after just 50 minutes of running the summit of Mt Meharry came into view, clearly defined here in Mining Country by a drainpipe topped cairn complete with two hard hats, a beer bottle and a solid sheet of steel for a BBQ plate. Previous summiteers here had generally driven to the top via the track, parked up for a quick stop before heading back to work.

Maybe not the most taxing of runs, but once again we we’re the tallest men in the entire state, and as WA covers an area equal to that of Europe that’s a pretty huge call!

As we drove back to Newman the conversation sparked up about challenging our own ‘as-yet-not-set’ record.

Could we turn a ten-day record attempt into an eight-day one!?

We’d read up on Bartle Frere through other blogs and trail reports and by all accounts it would take 10-12 hours to make the return trip. So far to date we’d managed to take around 40% off each of the trail times so we’re confident we could smash this estimate too…but could we get back down to finish Aussie 8 safely with enough light left in the sky?

Plane on runway, grab bags, jump in car, drive 70kms south, kit up and prepare to leave. It was literally that quick. We departed Josephine Falls car park at a smidgen past midday in 30c temperatures with 75% humidity – not ideal but the clear skies and lack of wind persuaded us we we’re doing the right thing.

How different the track was here to what we’d experienced in WA! From exposed red dust to twisting green tree roots, slimy rocks and 1 in 2 ascents – Bartle Frere was delivering a final ‘have that’ to our adventure.

2kms into the track and I did what I been waiting for the entire expedition – rolled my damn ankle – they’re weaker than a top-heavy Jenga tower! In training I’d sprained them on a weekly basis but up until now on Aussie 8 had avoided anything more than a slight tweak.

This time went down like a sack of nails, completely over and harder than before. Within seconds it started to swell and the immediate pain was excruciating. There was only one thing for it – strap the damn thing up and get back on the trail.

Two hours later and we finally left the tree line to look out over the incredible panoramic view of the coast and surrounding tablelands – this had to be one of the best sights of the trip so far. Clambering the last hundred metres up over gigantic boulders we re-entered the tree line and left the view behind. All that told us of our successful ascent, a simple sign stating we’d reached the top of the highest peak in Queensland.

With our record firmly in our grasp we had to make for home as quickly as we’d raced up, losing daylight here would make a tough descent for sure. All of the exposed tree roots, leeches and mosquitos would be bigger and tougher on the way down.

As nimbly as our tired legs would take us, we flew down the side of our eighth mountain in as many days, pausing only to share out depleted water supplies, check each other injuries and realise the record we were about to set.

With 500m to go we could hear the delighted yelps of Sophee and Bonnie in the car park below, unbeknown to Pat however, was the joyous fact that his entire family of Steph, Ivy and Alice had made the trip from Melbourne to greet him at the finish – I’ve never seen the guy so blown away by an emotional moment. Pure Gold.

So after a record breaking race around the country the Aussie 8 expedition team of Ben Southall, Luke Edwards and Pat Kinsella had succeeded in climbing the highest mountain in each Australian state in a 8 days and 14 hours.

If you’re out there reading this thinking you can beat it then please, give it a go. We’ll sure as hell come back and take the title off you!

Signing out for now from the current adventure,

Yours Expeditionally

Ben

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Arriving back in Alice Springs from our mammoth drive south to Mount Woodroffe, the next mountain, in the Northern Territory, meant another early start to keep to our tight itinerary.

We raced out of the city chomping down a light breakfast (Mistake #1), drove 150kms north east along possibly the straightest road in Australia, missed the turnoff and only realised 50kms later our directions were totally wrong (Mistake #2).

At midday with the sun beating down we kitted up realising we’d ALL forgotten our head-torches in the rush to leave (Mistake #3), hadn’t prepared anything for lunch (Mistake #4) so had to share our cameraman Gordo’s rehydrated meals, and finally hit the trail…our own trail rather than the one on the GPS (Mistake #5).

The mental and physical fatigue of climbing five mountains in five days was starting to become blindingly obvious to all of us; you simply shouldn’t ascend mountains unless everything is right.

Knowing ahead lay the biggest trail run of the trip injected a certain degree of urgency to everything we did. As we ran up the first slope, reached the top and looked down at another valley below, the realisation dawned on us that we’d have to seriously fly up and down the trail if we we’re to stand any chance of making it down before the last light of the day left the sky. Something that was vital as we only had a single torch between us.

Once we connected back up with the GPS trail it was our guide for the entire day, up steep rocky rises, across Spinefex grass-filled plateaus, contouring around sheer drop-offs…our hearts beating furiously every step of the way.

After four hours the summit was finally sighted and we clambered onto the rocky precipice to get a panoramic view of the immense lands around. We battled to get here in 34c temperatures, sucked down litres of water in the process and we’re now faced with a monster dash back down the mountain racing against the dying sun.

It takes around ten hours to climb up and back down Zeil. We’d left ourselves two hours for the descent. Something had to give. We fed our tired bodies, checked our watches and made a break for it.

Leaping across rock tops, crashing through spikey grasses and sliding down small rocky gardens we powered our way down the mountain, stopping every so often to check our route and make sure we we’re all ok.

As the final rays of sunlight basked us in a deep orange glow we dropped the final hundred metres into the valley below, radioed into the doco team to let them know we’d be rounding the final corner soon to be told “watch out for dingoes!”

A truly challenging, brutal beast of a hill that tested us to the limits. If every one was like this we’d have struggled to make it.

Another one under the belt.

Ben

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Up until now getting to the summits had been the challenge; the distances, the climbs and our fitness put to the test on a daily basis. But Mt Woodroffe in South Australia was a different kettle of fish all together, in height it’s nothing outstanding at a mere 1413m, but logistically THE ball-ache of the entire Aussie 8 expedition.

Lying in the centre of APY Aboriginal lands, Mt Woodroffe has huge cultural significance to the Pukatja people of the region. Accessing the area requires a chain of events taking weeks just to get the permits to get onto the land. Add to that obtaining personal permission from five different elders who are harder to track down than a aboriginal on walkabout, and this part of the adventure was more about relationships than running.

Drive 275kms south of Alice Springs, turn west along the dirt road for another 100 clicks and you arrive at Ernabella, an aboriginal community as far from any major city in Australia as you can get. Everyone knows everyone so posing the question “do you know where Peter is?” isn’t actually as stupid as it sounds.

Peter is an 84-year-old Pukatja elder, in whose land Mt Woodroffe lies. Gaining his trust and acknowledgement of the project would mean the final logistical hurdle could be cleared. It turned into much more than just getting paperwork signed off, our time spent with this fascinating, happy gentleman was the highlight of the trip so far.

Leaving our kitbags with the local police, gave us the space to take Peter with us back to his house 65kms away along dirt roads (he’d walked for a day to come and meet us!). On the way he laughed and joked at us and we at him.

Driving through scrub, spinifex grass (the spikiest, toughest ankle piercing grass in the world) and round rocks gave us a good idea of what to expect. We kitted up, fuelled up and filled up with water before making a break for our ascent via Route One – straight towards the summit.

Big mistake. Always check the contours before leaving! We trekked over 200m straight up….before then loosing all of our altitude gain dropping back into the valley below.

We seriously underestimated Mt Woodroffe. A simple 3.6km trek up a mountain it was not. Think rough, loose stones. Think thorny, spiky grass and bushes. Think exposed slopes radiating heat and sun back in your face. This was one seriously challenging climb and to add to it all the descent back down is just as tough. 2.5hrs up, 2 hrs down.

We skirted around the unnecessary peak on the way back down, choosing to track along the dry river bed below all the way through the most spectacular gorge that even in the middle of this hot, dry landscape held water in the rock pools. WARNING – if you don’t like heights and difficult descents than don’t come here for a walk!

Onto the next one now, Mt Zeil in the Northern Territory!

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Over the last three days we’ve climbed four of the mountains that make up the challenge; Bimberi Peak, Mt Kosciuszko, Bogong and Ossa, and they’ve been simply stunning.

Hitting the numerical half way point of the expedition is a great place to get to, but there’s still so much to be done. The first half of the expedition was all about the tallest and in theory toughest mountains in Australia, their southerly latitudes delivering cold nights, and exposed summits but beautiful landscapes.

Bimberi was great way to kick it all off. We witnessed sunrise over the autumnal colours of the forests below, mists hanging in the valleys and a less trodden trail to the firs of our summits.

Kosciuszko is Australia’s highest mountain and for our ascent it seemed one of the loneliest, we didn’t see one other person on our route to the top so selfishly shared the most dramatic sunset so far on the trip. It was although the devils cauldron was bubbling in the valleys below as sunrays pierced the rain showers in the distance. Being the tallest men on the continent felt, oh so good.

Bogong was our first test and a ‘real’ mountain; a calf-burning scramble up a seriously steep track through gum trees and pines. Heart rates pounding, lungs screaming and sweat pouring from our bodies as we guzzled down water at a rate of knots. We broke free of the tree-line out onto alpine tundra and an exposed ridge, sheltering behind the summit cairn for a refuel before racing down to basecamp.

Mt Ossa The Tosser (that’s what I ended up calling it). It was time for things to get real as we flew to Tasmania for a whistle-stop one-day visit to Cradle Mountain National Park. With tired bodies through previous exertions and lack of sleep, dragging ourselves out of bed to the sound of pouring rain on the street below was hugely challenging.

Add to that a 40km trail with over 1200 metres of ascent and suddenly our Aussie 8 expedition was giving us the endurance element we’d all been looking for.

Driving rain for seven hours, ankle deep water along our trail, howling winds and virtual-sleet as we scaled the scree slopes to a summit lost in the clouds. Our headspace on the orange route markers ahead rather than our shivering bodies. Stage One hypothermia was happening, maybe we travelled a little too lightly on this one…

Back on the plane now enroute to Alice Springs. Today, the long drive ahead into the wilds of South Australia, Mount Woodroffe is calling.

Yours expeditionally

Ben

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I’m typing this sat at the base of Bimberi Peak (the highest in ACT) in the warmth of the support vehicle whilst the temperature outside plummets. By the time you read this though I’ll have found reception and we’ll be back down again and enroute to the next one of the peaks, Mount Kosciuszko.

This morning Luke, Pat and I had a superb send-off at Parliament House from MP Don Farrell, the Assistant Federal Minister of Tourism in front of the assembled press. It was fascinating seeing inside the seat of Australia’s government for the first time and I have to say, good job on the building – it’s pretty imposing perched on top of the hill at the end of Commonwealth Avenue!

After a few quick snaps we raced around the corner to the British Foreign and Commonwealth Office to meet His Excellency, Paul Madden, who I’ve worked with a few times before. In attendance were more dignitaries including The UK Secretary of State for the Environment, Food and Rural Affairs, Owen Paterson.

It’s always good to rub shoulders with the suit and tie wearers of this world, especially as we were kitted out in Aussie 8 shirts, shorts and running shoes! After some very British formalities, us handing over a box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates to take the mickey, some delightful smoked salmon sandwiches wth the crusts cut off, and scones it was time to get the expedition started.

We drove 200kms from the capital towards the border of ACT and New South Wales where Kosciuszko National Park starts and the dirt road to where Bimberi’s basecamp lies. 35kms down the road we arrived at a locked gate nestled in a river valley. With stunning panoramic views off into the distance, the odd peak breaking the horizon and frolicking wild Brumbie horses and big Red Kangaroos watching us from afar, we knew we found the perfect spot to set up camp for the night.

And now all I have to do is make the walk back to my tent, tuck up into my sleeping bag to escape the chills of the night and enjoy eight hours sleep before a 5am start for the summit.

Yours expeditionally

Ben

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With all three team members having their own hectic lives to deal with finding time to train, pack and prepare has been left to the very last moment…it’s just like cramming before a uni exam!

The expedition is all about proving that however busy life can be, there’s always time to get outdoors and have an adventure in your own back yard. We’re just three average guys who love a challenge, enjoy hard work and exploring new places and the Aussie 8 will certainly give us all three in abundance.

Too many young people these days think that life is all about reality television, fast food and staring into a computer screen but it can offer so much more if you just get out there and find it. Obesity is plaguing the western world with 1 in 4 people now overweight in Australia alone. We’re out to challenge this ridiculous lifestyle, lead by example and show that however busy life around you gets there’s still time for friends and families to get outdoors, embark on their own mini-adventures and enjoy life to the full.

Aussie 8 kicks off on April 9th in Australia’s capital, Canberra, when the three of us will meet up for the second time as a team, it’s also the first time we’ll meet our documentary crew (Gordo and Viv) who’ll be running alongside to capture every drop of blood, sweat and tears as we go, help showcase the stunning natural landscapes we’ll pass through and interview some of the iconic Australian characters we’re bound to meet along the way.

Make sure you keep checking in to follow our adventure, see the photos and see the live tracker to work out how far we’ve got through either our Facebook page, our website or my Twitter account.

Eight Mountains, 8 States, 10 Days – create your own challenge and rise to it. We have one chance on Planet Earth – use it!

A huge thank you must go out to our sponsors, without them it simply would not have been possible – Qantas, YHA, Avis, Mountain Designs, Sea to Summit, Barz Optics, Tourism Australia and all the state tourism organisations.

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Afritrex was my first experience of racing up mountains, five of Africa’s highest in a little under a year. There’s something deeply rewarding about making it to the summit, turning through 360° and seeing beautiful landscapes stretching out far below.

Now that I’m living here in Australia – a land not known for its high peaks, why not take on a similar adventure and climb to the top of this countries largest mountains? If they’re not hugely tall then why not attempt to get up them as quickly as possible?

And so it was that the Aussie 8 expedition was born. 8 Mountains in 8 States in 10 Days. A race around this huge island to get to the top of some of the most remote lumps of rock in the world.

During the adventure we’ll run over 150kms, ascend over 5,500m and travel over 13,000kms around the country in a race to take on Australia’s greatest and most remote peaks.

The we are three; Luke Edwards, Pat Kinsella and me Ben Southall. All adventurers, all mad as cut snakes but all guys that just want to get outdoors and go on an adventure in the great unknown.

On April 9th 2013 we’ll leave Australia’s capital, Canberra, on a ten-day, leg-thumping, logistically-challenging race to ascend each of the ten peaks, fly between the nearest airports, drive to the base-camps and run to the top of each peak as quickly as we can.

To find out more about who, where, when and why visit our website or our Facebook page or follow me on Twitter.

I’ll be updating my blog throughout the adventure too, so make sure you come back to visit from April 9th to 21st 2103.

Yours expeditionally

Ben

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Soph and I spent three weeks exploring one of the less-visited countries in this part of the world – certainly less than Bali, Thailand and Vietnam but still easy enough for the adventurous first-time traveller.

Taking time out from my usual adventures – leaving social media and gadgets behind, not getting up at 5am for a run and drinking beer are things I don’t do that often. In fact it’s been five years since I had this long away from blogging and winding down from the western world took a couple of days.

We hit the road on two Honda motorbikes (www.remoteasia.com) and rode north from the capital Vientiane, along one of the tributaries to the Mekong leaving the city far behind, passing fishing villages and market garden agriculture along wet, muddy mountain roads towards Vang Vieng, the famous tubing destination thousands of backpackers head to.

Towering limestones cliffs and sheer sided mountains greeted us, their summits tucked away in the clouds delaying their introduction for another day, a winding river cuts its course through the valley and town – the beauty of the region is total. Climbing, trekking, tubing and happy juice rule supreme here.

The town’s been cleaned up massively in the last few months, ever since the President visited and saw everyone sitting around stoned out of their minds, watching repeats of South Park and Friends on wide-screen TV’s. Good call, you can’t have people dying left, right and centre as they care career down the river, high as kites on opium as they smash themselves into the rocks. It’s just not good for tourism!

Heading west to Phonsavan we climbed, twisting mountain passes round landslides, through rainstorms, avoiding potholes, chickens, pigs, dogs and kids for over 150kms – it was like the hardest level on a PSP game with the only power-up being a chill-hot lunch enroute to warm our chilled cores. Note to any men prospecting the idea of a week on a motorbike for your honeymoon – don’t take your gorgeous new wife when it’s raining and cold. I still owe thousands of brownie points.

A dusty main drag, some ‘interesting’ hotels, a great market and thousands of unexplained granite jars simply lying around the countryside. Phonsavan was flatten by the US during the 1960′s. Unexploded ordnance (landmines and cluster bombs) is still a killer and takes the lives of children, farmers and locals on a weekly basis. The ugly side of warfare still rearing it’s head 50 years later.

As we cruised through the golden sunlight, into the dusty outskirts of Luang Prabang we’d reached our destination. A week in the saddle, 1000kms and we’d managed to keep both bikes upright for the entire time, how I don’t know. To me handing back our steeds was premature, I’d loved the open road adventure, not knowing what lay round the next corner. But this was ‘our’ honeymoon – time to relax.

Spas, massages, Beer Laos, noodle soup, a cooking course, working on a rice farm, waterfalls, temples, the procession of the monks and sundown over the Mekong River. Life slowed down for ten days. It was well needed.

Exploring this old French colonial World Heritage City is a must do. We could have opened a restaurant – if we could cook, I could have kayaked to the coast over 2000kms away – and may still do it, we could have done many things here, but chose to eat the best baguettes and croissants outside of France, have our weary bodies worked on and enjoy the slow pace of life, watching tourists and locals go about their lives.

Top tips for the city:

• Try the river weed – a local delicacy with chili and buffalo hide
• Learn about rice – work for a day at The Living Land Project
• Cruise the river – jump on a long boat at sundown
• Watch the monks – sunrise procession which humbles everyone
• Climb the hill – for a panoramic of the entire city
• Noodle soup – $1 eat all you can, fresh herbs, chilies and the best stock
• Kayak – take in the farms, people, sights and sounds of river life

Definitely a great country, would highly recommend – especially on a motorbike

Ben

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This week has been the start of it all with a seven-day trip around Australia to create a short film for Tourism Australia in some iconic locations. Having only travelled through Queensland before it was an opportunity not to be missed.

From the vineyards of Margaret River near Perth, to the sandy beach at Seal Bay on Kangaroo Island, to the bustling laneways of Melbourne and finally to the world-famous, iconic red dusty, rock of Uluru slap-bang in the middle of this gigantic land.

Not much time to stop and take it all in, but enough to get a taster of what makes up this Great Southern Land. In April 2013 I’ll be racing around the country again visiting all eight states in just ten days with an attempt to set a new world record with my next expedition the Aussie 8. To find out more click here.

Australia’s population is concentrated around the coastal fringes as that’s where the rains fall. There’s very little sign of life down below as you fly over the vast expanses of the Simpson Desert, the Nullarbor and Lake Eyre – maybe the odd uber-straight dirt road that disappears off into infinity, a cattle-station fence standing out from the stark landscape or if you look really hard a couple of sheds reflecting back at you.

Apart from that it’s just a thirsty palette of twisting dry riverbeds, latticed sand hills and crusty white saltpans – home to very little life. But to me it’s beautiful, dangerous and exciting, an environment where water is rare, heat is common and the potential for endurance adventures thrive.

After meeting a friend in Melbourne this week who runs an off-road car company called Tomcar, it’s got me thinking about another adventure after Aussie 8.

My mind is working overtime to see just how I could travel through these harsh, desolate landscapes harnessing my own power or that of the elements around me sometime soon. Watch this blog and my Facebook page as things start to take shape…

Yours expeditionally,

Ben

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