How to be a Handmade Hero: Part 5 – Early mornings, markets and cat poo coffee

How to be a Handmade Hero: Part 5 – Early mornings, markets and cat poo coffee

Part five of my video diary of the trip. How to be a Handmade Hero: Part Five – Early mornings, markets and cat poo coffee.

Featuring some very tired people, one of the most impressive markets ever, a conversation with a street dog, and coffee made from cat poo. Yes really.

How to be a Handmade Hero: Part 4 – Babies, Bieber, Lollipops and lovely crafters

How to be a Handmade Hero: Part 4 – Babies, Bieber, Lollipops and lovely crafters

Part four of my video diary of the trip to Indonesia with Save the Children. How to be a Handmade Hero: Part Four – Babies, Bieber, lollipops and lovely crafters.

Featuring even more cute kiddies, a vague reference to Justin Bieber that I am putting in to get traffic, lollipops and a load of lovely craft folks. I also chuck in a short lesson on how to speak Indonesian. Kind of.

How to be a handmade hero: Part 3.1 – Kids, goats, bad jokes and home gardens

How to be a handmade hero: Part 3.1 – Kids, goats, bad jokes and home gardens

As part of the #imapiece Craftivist Jigsaw Project I was sent to Indonesia, on a mission to show the work they are doing to fight hunger, and how our voices calling for aid here can make a big difference over there.

Here’s How to be a Handmade Hero: Part Three – Kids, goats, bad jokes and home gardens. Warning: may feature impassive goats.

London Guerilla Knitting: “My yarn is as bad ass as your spray can.”

Guerilla knitting. Street art that sings the same yarn-flavoured tune I do. Always had vague fluffy plans of releasing my knits into the city I am in all kinds of love with. Always admired those who have done it before me. Never really dreamed I would be standing nervously in the shadow of St Paul’s […]

Kathmandu: “These eyes are considered very beautiful.”

Kathmandu. I have always wanted to come to Kathmandu, though I didn’t really know anything about it. The name alone convinced me it was somewhere I needed to see. What did this Cat Man look like?

Ghorepani (2870m) to Poon Hill (3210m) to Sikha (1935m) – Trek Day Three: “Are we nearly there yet?”

It is 4.30am. It is very, very dark. It is very, very, very cold. What in the hell am I doing climbing 340 metres of perilous rock stairs with only a headtorch for light?

Tikhedhunga (1540m) to Ghorepani (2870m) – Trek Day Two: “Golliwas in the mist”

I worry that I am slowing everyone down, and we’ll all get eaten by Nepali mountain forest wolves before we reach civilisation.

Naya Pul (1340m) to Tikhedhunga (1540m) – Trek Day One: “I can’t wait to put my beast legs on.”

We were off to the middle of the mountains with no guide. It was okay though. I had my woolly hat and my knitting. What more does a girl trekking to thousands of metres need?

Pokhara: “I’ll have the steak, please. Rare.”

Nepal won my heart immediately by having pavements, neat little front gardens, and more bobblehats than you can shake a pompom at. It doesn’t take much.

Varanasi: “Welcome to Varanasi.”

People waded into the Ganges to bathe, bent to wash clothes, stood beside the water to place floating lights on its surface, fished about in the depths for errant cricket balls, and in some cases took a quick healing drink (I didn’t join them on that one).