Favourite quotes: "I stop women cheating on their partners"

"Psychopaths and Europeans... they're the only people who ride the Greyhound"

"The playa will provide" "Yeah, the playa will provide, but the playa will also think you're a jackass"

Days to the next burning man festival: 341

After two months I finally accepted the Indonesian concept of personal body space, in that (like Fight Club) there is no personal body space.Pregnant women would rub themselves up against me like cats in the belief that by doing so their progeny will have whiter skin and longer noses, children ran at me like scrums of baby rhinos and the men, well, I no longer flinched when I had hollered at me, "hey beautiful / babe / sexy" (in descending order of preference) from every doorway - walking around it's like, I imagine, being a minor b list celebrity (and not in a good way).

Finally arrived in Su-ma-tra after a 16 hour visa run to Singapore.I'm not a massive fan of Singapore, it's a little too sanitised for my taste. Not wanting to do any shopping I partook in its other main leisure pursuit - eating, and gorged myself with six course dim sum feast.

Landed at Medan airport and texted a CS host, Andy, who on the back of a random sms agreed to host me.Couchsurfing is a fantastic way to travel.It's really not about saving money (though that is also a positive consequence) but about having a more 'authentic cultural experience'.By living with the people you really get to see, well how the people really live. Staying in a hostel in Singapore also reminded me of how preferable CS is, sitting with a group of socially awkward Brits and being asked the same five questions in rotation (which are, in no particular order: what's your name; where are you from; how long have you been travelling; where have you been; and, where are you going - seriously shoot me (or get me a T shirt with the answers printed)), though i'm also culpable, doing the same thing and demonstrating my own lack of imagination.

On my first night in Medan Andy arranged a little gathering, where his friend Agung was duly nominated (being a student and therefore being deemed by the rest of the group to have nothing better to do) to take me on a tour of Medan, which he did with grace and good humour.Medan is an archetypal multi faith city and I saw beautiful mosques, hindu temples and churches.I found myself being strangely drawn to the Catholic Church, perhaps because having been thrown in with the new and foreign for so long it was comforting to see something so familiar, hmmmm you can take the girl out of Catholicism...

My new couchsurfing buddies (thank you Andys) also helped me put together an itinerary and I decided for a change that less was more.I met an absolute sweetheart, Kelsey and we arranged to travel to the jungle together.Arrived in Bukit Lawang and took the two day hiking option.Previously I have commissioned my own expeditions, going for days into the wilderness with guides that speak only a local dialect, hacking our own way through pristine virgin rainforest and seeing jack. This time with a big group of gringos making constant noise we saw a whole bunch of oran-utans and plenty of other animals - though maybe that has more to do with the palm oil plantations squeezing the rainforest in at every angle.Can't say I came best prepared for the trek, my converse tennis shoes had me slipping and sliding every which way, frequently coming close to falling off rock faces.Luckily my guide kept me laughing most of the way, no small feat as I was struck dumb with terror several times, notably when I actually fell off the slope I was scrambling down, landing on him, and falling together until he managed to grab a branch and save us both from tumbling to our deaths a few hundred meters below.After the jungle, to calm my nerves, I had a relaxing few days in Lake Toba before heeding the call of the jungle again.The lifestyle and people were just too idyllic to resist.A community centred about a river, there were no cars, newspapers or phones, only lazy days waking up to a balcony facing lush rainforest, with the promise of swimming, bintangs and guitar singalongs ahead.

Oddly the cheapest way to America from Sumatra was via Malaysia and Australia - go figure, as I wince at my carbon footprint.So a night in KL was had, meeting up again with Tam and our old friend Jim for great Indian food and cupping (if you haven't tried it I'd recommend giving it a go: several glass jars are heated up and then stuck onto your back leaving several glass sized bruises - i'm assured it's good for you, somehow).

Back in Melbourne I had five days to catch up with old friends.This obviously demanded a lot of red wine, unmentionable exotic liquors (on which you may have poisoned me Natasha), karaoke, music gigs, good coffee and fine dining. I stayed with Tam's Italian aunt and if I could take her everywhere with me I would, her hospitality was touching, her Italian cooking, food for the soul.Alas Melbourne was bitterly cold, especially coming from the jungle and I spent far too much time negotiating public transport (when I go back, i'm moving to the CBD).A strange reverse type of culture shock also hit me and I found myself wincing at all the cars, crowds and buildings.

Luckily before I could get too disconsolate, I hopped onto a flight to LA.Thanks to Andrew, who very kindly helped me with my flight phobia, for the first time I can remember I actually looked out of the window on the plane, mesmerised watching the hills of Catalina unfold beneath me sans barbiturates, though admittedly after several miniatures had been imbibed (the cabin crew made the mistake of leaving the galley with the drinks trolley unsupervised - inviting a 10 second trolley dash - I can confirm that you can pick up a couple of dozen miniature bottles in a very, very short time).

Arrived in La La land to be picked up by the lovely Lana who generously gave over her house to Tam, Liam, Xi and I, whilst we dipped our toes in their pool and ate their food and drink (including several exceptional bottles of red and tequila) like a swarm of locusts.Then for the next few days, when not hitting the LA hotspots with Lana, I put on my organiser hat and began preparations for the Burning Man festival.From my reading materials it appeared that most people plan months in advance for this exercise in radical self-reliance.We had four days, but thankfully a lot of help from our friends.

In a nutshell the burning man is a festival that appears like magic (but in reality is built by hundreds of devoted volunteers for months in advance) in Black Rock City, miles from anywhere in the world's most inhospitable environment with scorching heat by day descending to freezing temperatures at night as dust storms persistently whip around you.For accommodation you can wing it, but being burning man virgins Tam and I, at the behest of people who knew better, decided to join an established camp that would provide our food, water and showers (as to make it even more tricky you can buy nothing at the festival (bar ice and coffee)).

First off, we rented a giant scooby doo van (in liu of the original car we wanted, which had bullet holes all along the side), giving the dual advantage of us being able to sleep in and pick up a few peeps to share the ride.Secondly we booked into the Entheon Healing Camp, on scholarship tickets as, ahem... 'healers'.Costumes were also a priority (and in fact were the only thing we had been planning for sometime in advance).A big thanks to Liam for navigating the streets of the Mission District to purchase nipple tassels for us at the eleventh hour. Finally we got ourselves some wheels - bicycles are a must, especially bikes decorated with neon duct tape and adorned with gerberas.Prepared as we were ever going to be, we set off to San Fran and I even had a go on the freeways of California, with Tam and Xi regularly shrieking 'watch your positioning' which I tried to do, though with some difficulty, what with driving a bus, with a column shift, on the wrong side of the road.Just about arrived in one piece for a birthday party, pool and mani-pedis before picking up fellow burners, Tom, David, Jacinta and Brett.

What should have been a six hour journey to Black Rock City in reality took 20, as we spent a lively night in the queue to the gate, walking up and down between vehicles and introducing ourselves to our fellow festival goers.Even though it was five in the morning before we eventually entered the menagerie, everyone was in great spirits and the atmosphere was electric.

As a 'healer' I spent quite a bit of time at my camp giving reiki and Indian head massages, in the main to either fat men or dirty *&@*ing hippies with festy dreads.When I wasn't balancing people's chakras you could find me doling out punishment at Spanky's wine bar as naked bartender, riding an art car through the desert, dancing til dawn at opulent temple or roots society, taking a spanking lesson, having our own gin and tonic o'clock each day, chilling out with a chai latte at centre camp, drinking frozen margaritas at frogma, having my hair washed by the lovely ladies at sweaty bettys and time and time again getting lost and lost and then lost some more, wandering wide eyed and open mouthed around the spectacle that is the world's most sensory overloading celebration.

With great prescience we booked ourselves into a casino resort in Reno after the festival, stuffing ourselves at the all you could eat buffet and for me, having one of the best baths of my life (I really do miss long, leisurely baths) before hitting San Fran again for another memorable night.

Finally with the bus in just about one piece, (barring a blown tyre on the freeway, on the inside lane, which Tam handled commendably) we journeyed back to Los Angeles to be welcomed back into the warm embrace of Lana's house and Jon's fantastic cooking.After a day's rest Tam and I were just about ready to hop over the border to the next leg of the adventure - Me-hi-co.

Andale Andale

Kerry x