This book is dedicated to my two wonderful children, Gail and Graham, who inspire me every single day.
My chief collaborator in the writing of this book has been Wanda Whiteley. Her enthusiasm, expertise and encouragement have always been boundless. She calls herself the manuscript doctor but she really does have the power to turn base metal into gold.
Huge thanks to Stuart Higgins for producing the rabbit out of the hat what a friend!
And for those men and women with vision, too many to mention individually, who have supported and encouraged me on along the way, who include: Sir Richard Branson, HRH The Prince of Wales, Peter Hopkirk, Tessa Brewer, Gwendolyn and David Fall, Greg Barton, Jean Olewang, Peter Avis, Sue Hale, Andrea Baron, Ivor Wood, James Kidner, Isabella Ward, Evelyn Webb-Carter, Clive Alderton, Andy Cope, Gowri Motha, Rajendra Bajgain, Emily and Spencer Klein, Angie Miranda, Cathy Heinecke, Kutira Decostrd, Simon Matthews, Elizabeth English, Avril Price, Paul Choong, Steve Buckley, Brian Solomon, Nelofar Currimbhoy, Tweedie Brown, Richard Morrison, Janice Lee, Doreen Virtue, Molly Harvey, Marie Diamond, Julia Hausermann, Christiane Pedros, Mylene Soriano, David Arkless, Sarah Summers, Jane Keightley, Mujeeb Khan, Geoffrey Bush, Mary Mills-Brown, Randy Langendorfer, Carlos Rojas, Alan Hassenfeld, Harold Goodwin, Shahnaz Husain, Sheila Crowley, Richard Street, Eric Taylor, Karen Jones and Michaela and Alfie.
The generosity of friends who gave me temporary residence in their gloriously beautiful hotels so that I could take some time out to write; Chris and Mike McHugo of Kasbah du Toubkal, Morocco, Andrea Bonilla and Hans Pfister of Harmony Hotel, Cayuga Group, Randy and Carlos of Monte Azul both in Costa Rica and Karen Emanuel of Jicaro Lodge in Nicaragua.
Appreciation and admiration goes to the numerous companies who I have worked alongside over the years, who have sponsored projects and volunteered including Manpower, SAGA, Cadburys, Virgin, Hasbro, Nestl, KPMG, PSG, Thai Beverage, Deloitte, Accenture, Standard Chartered, Shahnaz Herbals.
A special thank you must go to my darling friend Jan Slater, present and steadfast through thick and thin, ready with a hanky to dry my tears, a glass of wine to celebrate and kindness and love beyond measure.
Lastly huge thanks go to my wonderful family: my Mum and Dad who instilled my sense of wonder and adventure and who gave me the confidence to follow my heart and passion. And through all my craziness have cheered me on along the way. My Dad handed me a TS Eliot quote one day: Only those who risk going too far can possibly know how far they can go.
So many names and places in this book have had to be changed to respect the individuals privacy and guard their personal safety. I wish, in so many cases, that I had been able to name them and honour the sterling work they are doing in such difficult circumstances. To these unsung heroes: thank you.
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
F or as long as I remember I have always felt that I was on a mission. From a very young age I was driven by an unquench able thirst to serve something greater than myself, but for a long time I didnt know what, where or how.
Marmalade and Machine Guns looks back on an incredible journey humbling, exhausting, stressful, challenging but rewarding beyond measure.
I drifted into nursing and loved it but it was not enough. At the age of 39 I leapt into the frontline to help those in dire need living in some of the poorest and most challenging areas of the world.
For over 12 years I have moved from project to project with just one suitcase. Its taken me all over the world to every continent, way off the beaten track. I have assisted in catastrophic natural disasters such as the Asian tsunami, the Pakistan earthquake, in conflict zones, with tribes deep in the Amazon rainforest, nomads in the deserts of Uzbekistan and in high mountain areas such as the Himalayas and Atlas Mountains, and refugee camps Burmese, Afghan and Tibetan.
Born and raised in the United Kingdom I realise that my journey has been somewhat unusual. Some people admire me, others think I am crazy.
With great regularity I have little or no access to clean running water, reliable electricity, dependable food supplies, a comfy bed, a hot shower or a safe shelter. All of these things I used to take for granted. I dont now.
The journey has not been short of adventures and misadventures. I have lost a few lives escaped from a rebel army, evaded rape, been wrongfully arrested, been held at gunpoint, survived severe altitude sickness and hypothermia and had my face slashed open, having to stitch myself up in the absence of medical help.
These experiences of life, near death and suffering have given me an insight into life and its meaning, real and practical, gained first hand through living life on the edge. I have learnt the meaning of unconditional love, strength, forgiveness, courage and compassion from unconventional teachers an 11-year-old tsunami survivor who lost not only her parents and siblings, but also her teacher, her home and most of her friends, a 16-year-old Burmese refugee blown up by a landmine, left blind with no legs, surviving in a no-mans -land camp, not welcome in his host country yet never able to return to his own my list of teachers is endless.
And along the way I have imbued the wisdom of indigenous visionaries Amazonian shamans, Tibetan lamas and Indian gurus. Much of my work carried out with the backdrop of parental anxiety my son is also regularly on the frontline with the Rifles in Afghanistan.
So why did I write this book? To remind us all to get passionate about living; to tune in to our own intuition, compassion and courage; to learn from the extraordinary ways people confront fear, face death and find joy and happiness in the most dire circumstances.
So there it is! See you on the frontline! Dont forget to pack your head torch and most importantly your sense of humour.
With love, onwards and ever upwards
Linda x
In the end, its not going to matter how many breaths you took, but how many moments took your breath away
shing xiong
A t the age of 36 I decided to change my life. And not just in a small way.
The realisation that I needed to do so came to me quite suddenly and terrifyingly one night as I was driving along a motorway. Worn out after a sales conference and desperate to get home, I wanted to pull the duvet over my head and sleep forever. The road was almost empty, fortunately for me. One second I was driving along, trying to stay awake; the next I was blind. A moment of stabbing pain behind my eyes, then everything went black. I dont know how I managed to pull into the hard shoulder; instinct, I suppose. Anyway, there I sat, whimpering in fear. Praying to a God to whom I hadnt given a thought in decades.
My sight returned a few hours later. But in that time something in me had changed. It wasnt a nice feeling. It was disturbing, frightening. What I saw in those hours of blindness was that the life I had been living was stifling me. I was an adventurous child of adventurous parents. We werent the sort of family to holiday to the nearest seaside resort each summer, like everybody else. We took the car and zigzagged across Europe. My parents were both committed Cub Scout leaders and I worked hard for every badge; out in all weathers. Taking the mottos very seriously: Do a good turn daily and Be prepared. On our family camping holidays we would sit out under the stars, while my dad taught us their names. He would say to us, Vive la difference! The world is just waiting to be explored.