-Herman Melville

ALGOMA MILLS, CANADA - An overnight bus ride from New York and a quick drive (6 hours) North of Toronto and I'm home. I rolled in yesterday afternoon just in time for a home cooked dinner with my parents.

I suppose I'll come to some conclusions over the next weeks and months as I reflect on my travels. Until then, this will be my last post. The trip is finished. A resounding success.

Now is the time for reconnecting with friends and family - to unpack the boxes and build a life for myself. I'll admit, it seems a little daunting, though I'm confident it's nothing I can't handle.

It was during this spectacle that I realized with a sudden start that I'd finished; I'd completed the circumnavigation. For it was more than 20 months ago that Brian and were on the Staten Island Ferry in that very spot. Here is the photographic proof. That's it. I started traveling West and, today, arrived from the East. Around the world.

As people spilled out of the Ferry Terminal and into black limousines and yellow taxi cabs an old friend, Matt, met me this morning at the Ferry Terminal. He was the only person to arrive by bicycle. I was delighted, though it was a long walk back to his apartment in Brooklyn.

For the moment I'm sitting here in Matt's Brooklyn apartment digesting both the feast of pancakes in my belly and the last two years. I suppose that at some point today I'll make my way over to the Greyhound terminal for one last overnight bus ride. I expect that I'll be in Toronto tomorrow morning.

**The photo I've used in this post is one I took of the Statue of Liberty this morning. It's a terrible photo but for me was a great moment so I've used it anyway. It looks better if you squint.

With 13 restaurants, 5 swimming pools, more than 1000 crew to cater to my every need, the Queen Mary 2 is providing me with a much different style of travel than I've become accustomed to on this trip around the world. If my goal was to have as much diversity as possible, then I've definitely succeeded with regards to modes of transportation. By sea alone, I've made progress via one decrepit sailing yacht (Panama - Tahiti) , a high-tech racing catamaran (Tahiti - Australia), a bare bones container ship (Austraila - Asia), countless ferries, and now a luxury ocean liner.

While there is very little hardship (in fact none) aboard the Queen Mary 2, I am having some difficulties. It seems that my 13kg rucksack filled with a couple pairs of jeans, a few pairs of shorts and a bunch of wrinkled t-shirts which has been so perfect for the entire world thus far, is letting me down out here in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. For some reason crossing an Ocean is meant to be a more formal affair than, say, cruising in the Caribbean. Beginning at 1800 hours each evening there is a dress code in effect for all public areas of the ship - which as best as I can tell is everywhere except my stateroom. Initially I thought I'd be able to dodge the formal nights and participate in the rest. The programme shows that on this 6 day crossing there will be two formal nights which require tuxedo's or black business suits. Uhhh.. no chance there. Two other nights are classes as informal but still require the use of a shirt and tie. Oops. And even the casual evenings require slacks - they tell me that denim is not appropriate. Dang. It seems that my tired old wardrobe has finally let me down with only 6-days left on this round-the-world trip.

This all means that beginning at 6pm each evening I start acting like a stow away. A stow away with access to free room service, a television and a private stateroom. Now to be fair, I have snuck out on more than one occasion already and it's a shame because there really is a certain romance to dressing and dining with such style as the ship sails smoothly through the ink black water, if I had a partner in crime and black tuxedo, I'm sure this would be a fabulous trip.

As it is, it's been a chance for me to collect myself as I prepare to leap back into the real world. I'm tweaking my resume, I've started exercising, I'm trying my best not to eat too much, and I'm spending a lot of time reflecting on this journey and also looking to the future; to the next big thing. I will be in New York City early on Sunday morning and after having breakfast at the very same Brooklyn diner that Brian and I ate at at the beginning of this trip, I will have officially finished what I set out to do. I expect that I'll be in Toronto that same day, ready to leap back into life.

We met up in Prague 12 days ago. We've spent time in Prague, Berlin, Koln and here in Amsterdam. It's been really great traveling with Ryan seeing how he is both a great friend and a pro-traveler. He has become seasoned over the last 20 months; North America, Central America, The Pacific, Southeast Asia, Asia, and Europe. He'll be back in Toronto soon enough, so parting wont be so bad. Next time I see him (in about 10 days), we'll both be in the real world.

I've gone 2.6% around the world without taking a plane. It was amazing. Ryan will have done it all. I am very proud of him and look forward to having him back.

-jonathan

I think it was Jon who asked if there was anything cheaper. This is how we discovered the joy of riding local trains all over Germany. For 35€, Jon and I were able to spend the entire night hoping from local train station to local train station. Not only did we save the nights accommodation in a hostel, but we had a strangely enjoyable night of adventure.

All in all, we changed trains seven times and missed only one connection. In many of the towns we had some time to wander around the centre before hoping on the next train, and for 35€ we couldn't afford not to do it.

In the end we arrived in Cologne just before 4am. We ditched our luggage and spent most of the morning wandering the city and seeing the sights while we waited for a reasonable time to check in to the hostel and pass out. Except for the odd drunk trying to find their way home, Cologne is a peaceful city at 5am on a Sunday. We had the entire Cathedral to ourselves.

We´re in Berlin now, just arrived. We plan to stay for 3 or 4 days before moving on.

On a brighter note, I did get a chance to see visit the Salt Mines of Wieliczka. They are like no other mine I've ever seen. The entire underground complex is made from salt. The tile floors, the walls, the stairs, the carvings and even the chandeliers. Yes, there are chandeliers. There are statues and even entire cathedrals in the mine all made from salt. It seemed unbelievable to me, but I confirmed it with a few strategic and inconspicuous tastes of some of the structures. For enough money you can even host a banquet or business function 130m under the ground. Strange place indeed.

Tomorrow, or rather tonight I'm getting on my 1 millionth overnight train, this time bound for Prague where I hope to squeak with enough time to meet Jon at the airport, as I assured him I would. The man behind the scenes is stepping to the fore front for a change and we'll be travelling together for rest of my time in Europe.

According to the local who took me to see the monument, it was erected shortly after the USSR collapsed. As images of Lenin and Stalin or anything else representing the Soviet occupation were tumbling, new governments and councils and committees were looking to the West with enthusiasm for heroes and icons. At some point, perhaps as a joke, a proposal was put forward to the powers that be to erect a monument to Frank Zappa. The fact that it was approved, I think, says a lot about the confusion of the times.

It still stands as a quirky reminder of "those crazy times", as my new Lithuanian friends put it. Most people who mentioned it seemed slightly embarrassed; I'm certain though that I also detected more than a little pride as well.

Of course there is much more to Lithuania than the Frank Zappa monument. The four days I spent there really didn't do it justice. They are some of the friendlies people I've met and their cities are beautiful in a typically European fashion. It's a place that is changing very quickly and I would very much like to return before it becomes unrecognizable.

In the meantime, I've been enjoying the spring weather, long hours of daylight and the medieval charm of the Baltics - Estonia, Latvia and tomorrow Lithuania. When not actually travelling, I spend my days wandering the cities, tasting the local food and visiting the occasional museum. (I've also spent a little time dodging riots in Tallinn.) The nightlife has been great as well; provided you can find places where the hordes of British stag parties and football teams aren't.

This trip is quickly morphing from adventure into a vacation - not that I need one after a year-and-a-half without work but I'm not one to complain.

Next up: Vilnius, Lithuania.

It'd require that I wait until the right season to make the crossing. Most yachts cross the Atlantic (East to West) in late October or early November. The reality is that if I wait until Autumn in Europe, I'll bankrupt myself.

Even if I lasted in Europe until then it'd be unlikely that I'd find one making the crossing directly to the U.S.A. Most yacht's veer South after exiting the Mediterranean. They usually dip close to the Equator before heading back North to the Caribbean. This route is much longer, but takes advantage of the warm weather and favourable trade winds. The North Atlantic would mean cold weather and constant headwinds.

My other option, the one that I'll be choosing, is to book passage on an Ocean Liner making the crossing. (The freighter ships that take passengers are all booked full for this summer.) This represents the quick and dirty way for me to complete the trip. It will cost more money than a flight, but will save me thousands in the long run as I won't be idly spending Euro's in Europe.

Of Course the only Ocean Liner that makes regular crossings of the Atlantic Ocean is the legendary RMS Queen Mary 2. It sails from South Hampton, England to New York City. I have a cabin on the June 3rd sailing.

I'm coming home. I'll be returning to New York City from the East after setting off Westward almost 80-weeks before. Around the world without flying.

The QM2 is a luxury Ocean Liner, it follows the same route and is in fact owned by the same company that ran the Titanic. Though it isn't as expensive as you might imagine I'm paying the inflated (nearly double) single occupancy rate. So if I you're not too weird, I'm happy to take along a cabin mate. It would halve the price for me. Even if I do make the crossing alone, it'll represent a significant savings when compared to the prospect of completing the journey by yacht.

Oh yes, St. Petersburg and Moscow are fantastic. This post would be far too long if I got into it. Come and see for yourself.

*No recent photos up yet but Emily, a recent travelling companion, has some of her/my trip on the Trans-Siberian Railroad. Have a look here.

This last leg along the famed Trans-Siberian railway has, however been the longest. Eighty hours after pulling out of Irkutsk we rolled into central Moscow.

I've been here in Moscow for more nearly 3-days already and have been lazy about posting here. It's just that there are a million better things to do in Moscow than hunt for Internet Cafes, which are shockingly rare.

Other than the lake, I've been blown away by Irkutsk and the Russians in general. Their cold demeanor is really quite easy to crack and we've met nothing but friendly and curious people. With nightclubs that go off every night of the week and fashionable people everywhere, Irkustk is much more cosmopolitan than I'd ever expected from a Siberian town. Perhaps it's just the incredible spring weather we've been having, but I'll leave Irkutsk with a overwhelmingly positive impression.

Next up: Moscow. We've booked our train tickets direct for Moscow. At 4:30 today I'll be boarding the Trans-Siberian railway and won't be disembarking 80hours, and five time zones later. This time we'll be riding 3rd class. I'm not sure what to expect, but it should be an adventure. I know at least 4 other travellers who'll be on this train so at least I'll have some back up and somebody to talk to.

I should have been a very quick grab and run for him. I'd just dropped all my luggag on my berth on the train and had cleared out to let the others organize their things. I wandered a metre or two down the hall, gazed out the window for a moment, then turned back to my cabin. There I was, standing directly behind a short and fat-ish man with a perfect view of his arm elbow deep in my day bag. I watched for a few more seconds, just to be sure he wasn't digging through my stuff by accident.

Then it was on. I'm not sure what proper protocol is, but I grabbed him with both hands and shook him free of my luggage. It worked well. In the end he got away and only really fought back when I tried to drag him out of the train. Ultimately abandoned that strategy and let him go as I'm not really good at violence and it would have meant me leaving my luggage unattended.

The whole ordeal sort of made me a hero on the train as people retold the story and pointed in my direction in every language but English. Before long, I was being force fed bread, colbasa and other strange meats along with tea by nearly everyone who could get near me. They shared their shower shoes with me and suggested I carry a 'fanny-pack' to protect my stuff (both part of the standard Russian train uniform).

It wasn't long before I was deeply involved with a cheap clothing smuggling ring. In my role as accomplice I stuffed a bunch of tacky jeans into my own luggage for the border crossing. I know, it seems like a terrible idea - it probably was. But I had no real choice after spending the day eating and drinking in a cramped cabin with an Uzbek trader, a Buryat Russian, and Mongol business man. We were all in on it.

In a fit of classic Russian bureaucracy it took 10 hours to cross the border. In that time the Russian soldiers and border guards searched and hassled my travelling merchant friends endlessly while leaving me alone. Once on the Russian side, I returned the contraband jeans and we all shared another pile of sandwiches.

After travelling through the semi-independent Buryatic Republic by night, I've arrived in the biggest town and regional centre of Siberia: Irkustk. There doesn't seem to be much going on as there are only two of us in our Hostel but the snow is mostly melted and I'm in Siberia! Time to explore a little...

In the last 6-days we drove 50 hours, none of it on anything that even resembled a road, through one of the most remote regions of the world. Effectively we did a giant loop through the most sparsely populated region of the most sparsely populated country on the planet.

We slept in gers (traditional felt yurts), we cooked and warmed ourselves with animal dung to fuel our fires (wood is in short supply), we ate nothing but noodles, mutton, camel, goat and maybe horse and drank milk from every one of those animals. At one point we even got drunk from a special bootleg they called 'Camel Vodka' - some kind of fermented camel milk - while performing an elaborate ritual to honour their hero, and the most famous Mongolian: Chinngis (Ghengis Khan).

We were whipped by sand storms and worried about heat exhaustion one moment, then bogged down in a metre of snow the next. We helped nomads milk their goats, rode camels and refueled in tiny forgotten specks of Soviet civilization littered with rusted out tanks, crumbling buildings and bleached animal skulls. For six days we didn't see another Westerner.

In other news, I survived my first ever attempted mugging last night. It's a classic story of two of us walking home from a pub and choosing a darkened, out-of-the-spotlight alley as a shortcut. Two guys approached us (there were two of us) from behind. I was on to them right away, their initial friendliness was transparent and to make a long story short, there was some threats - 'Give me your money' and 'I kill you, I kill you' type stuff. The main problem with the heist was that they were only pretending to brandish a knife. The lead crook was pretending to stab at us. After some feeble attempts at diplomacy, both parties resorted to grabbing, pushing and pulling until Fredrik (my trusty Swedish sidekick) and I broke free and fled into the main square for the protective hustle and bustle of the city. In the end we were left with some pounding hearts, a heavy dose of adrenalin and some stretched out, mis-shappen t-shirts.

I've just booked a train ticket to Siberia ($32 USD for a Hard-Sleeper, 2-days). Irkutsk to be exact...

I've just rolled into, Ulaanbataar, the capital city of Mongolia via the Trans-Mongolian railway and already and have already experienced, snow, rain, and sunshine. As I speak the skies are blue and the mercury has risen high enough to be comfortable outside in a t-shirt. 4-seasons in a single day; actually 4 seasons in a couple hours.

People don't come to Mongolia for the cities - They are ugly and dirty - they come for the rugged wilderness that defines this place. Ulaanbataar really has a middle-of-nowhere feel to it.

We've put together a crowd of 5 intrepid travellers and are leaving tomorrow (with a car and driver) for a 6-day journey into the heart of the Gobi Dessert. Because it is spring here (the unpredictable season) I'm told to prepare for sand storms, snow storms and even intense heat and sun exposure. We will be bringing along extra water and blankets but will spend our time eating mutton, drinking fermented yaks milk and warming ourselves by 'cow-patty' fires (there is no wood).

For a more detailed description of what my rail ride has been like have a read here. It's similar to my experience except I shared a 4-berth cabin with other backpackers and maybe drank a little too much before crossing the Mongolian-Chinese border, which sprang up unexpectedly at 1am.

I should be back here in 6-days or so with some stories... I hope.