so What’s this all about then?
The story thus far
A caravan in Cornwall, a car on first-name terms with the recovery bloke and a plan to cycle South America - until a friend suggested driving to Cape Town instead. So it's Geraldine & I, taking on the Atlantic coast. Let's see how far we can get.
This is the Too Long, didn’t read version - scroll down to read more
Where it started
You're living in a caravan in Cornwall, it's winter and if you are biblically inclined - the constant rain of late 2025, was like the second coming of the Ark. Which, as a gardener who relies on the weather, is a pretty shyte place to be.
I'd spent 18 months with a car that was as unreliable as the weather and was now on first name basis with the local recovery bloke and, life, like the weather was pretty bleak.
Doom scrolling, I watched people taking on seemingly impossible adventures and challenges, experiencing a life that seemed so far from where I was - in the process, many finding themselves and what they were capable of.
I was questioning my life choices and felt like I needed something hard and gruelling to find the person I used to be, someone I had lost along the way.
Glorious Chaos V1
So, in my infinite wisdom - I decided that a cycle around South America - the entire coast, would be the best way to do it. I'd lose weight, I'd punish myself, I'd be climbing the Andes finding the person I thought I'd lost. The strong, capable person I’d once been.
Fast forward a few months - I've bought a bicycle named Gloria, she has beautiful orange panniers, a tent, a sleeping bag, an inflating sleeping mat, a camping chair, a teeny tiny camp stove, I have plans and lists, I've started Duolingo and I am poring over other cyclists' feeds, researching places to go and see. Decided I am more of a coast girl than straight up the Andes - I am, after all, scared of heights.
Glorious Chaos - it's what I've called it. I am chaos, a chaos monkey, but there's joy to be found in the middle of all that. So, Gloria and I, we'll go find joy and a couple of saddle sores - but see, I am not so sure anymore.
I'm not sure I really want to lug my fat arse, on a bicycle, around a continent? I certainly want to do a continent - but, on a bicycle? My perimenopausal joints and a large part of the elusive me I've been looking for, are having serious doubts. But, what can I do? I've told everyone I am doing it.
change of plans
Then, one day, I’m chatting to a friend about road tripping it up (down?) to Spain and fly from there. He says - he’s like fuck South America Kerry, drive to Cape Town!
I looked at him and thought - you're mad.
I don't have a Land Rover, I can never afford one. A Land Cruiser? Pah, who can afford one of those. Have you seen the price of all-terrain tyres?
But! I do have a tent, I do have a sleeping bag, and all those other bits I've bought for GC. And, I have Geraldine.
Geraldine - my ordinary little car. Like me - she has battle scars. A peeling clear coat, a distinct knock on the drivers front wheel, almost 100k miles on the clock.
I reckon, at a push, I can double up some recovery boards as a sleeping platform over the passenger side.
I really think that together, we can do this
and so
It’s decided, from one crazy choice, to another. Geraldine and I are driving to Cape Town. We’re keeping her as stock as possible, after all, she’s an ordinary car, I am an ordinary woman, the combination either makes it a stupid idea or a rather extraordinary journey.
And in this decision, I have discovered that there is no need to go find myself - I have been here all along, I just need to learn to like the one I am, an ordinary woman, with an ordinary car, who wants to do something, rather extraordinary.
And not because I'm special, or brave, but because I want to, I don't want to be standing at a beautiful door one day with a rusty key.
So, Geraldine and I are driving, Cornwall to Cape Town, along the Atlantic coast (I'm a beach girl remember), let's see how far we can get.