My road to adventure and fortune

Hi, my name is Vindal Vandakoff —well not really—that is my pen name for the Scifi books I write. My real name is Tim McHugh. I live between Japan, Bali and Australian. http://vindalvandakoff.blogspot.jp/

I have never lived a normal life—the rat race of nine to five—rather I have lived outside society enjoying freedom and adventure. I will be posting a series of adventures I have undertaken over the coming months.

Let’s start at the beginning!![

I moved to Bali, Indonesia when I was eighteen. How I ended up there is a little out of the ordinary.

When I was seventeen I was one of the top cyclist in Australia, planning to become professional and race in Europe. My ultimate dream was to win The Tour De France. That all changed on Good Friday evening 1979 when I had a serious bike accident. I was flung from my bike at 100 kph into lamppost. I broke my shoulder, ribs, three vertebrates and my left leg. I lost the feeling in my legs and the doctors said that I would be paralysed from the chest down. Quite a shock for a seventeen-year-old boy who had the dream of winning The Tour De France.

My first reaction, after nuclear shockwave had diminished, was not give up. Ok, I can’t walk any more. What can I do? And to my surprise I decided I would take up hand gliding since I wouldn’t need my legs to fly. I still remember the look of utter dismay on my mother’s face when I told her. She stormed out of the hospital room in disbelief. I’m not sure if she felt shock or pity. And here I must take a moment to thank my loving parents for the support they gave me during this ordeal. A few weeks went by and I gained some feeling and movement back in my legs. Although I had just come out ICU and was flat on my back I had a renewed energy—a slight chance I could heal. From that moment on I decided I would walk out of that hospital.

A couple of weeks later I was able to start physiotherapy in bed. I was back in training, just like when I was cycling. But this time, it was not for The Tour De France, but for the day they would release me from my bedridden state. I was determined to walk again and nothing was going to stop me.

Being bedridden for three months was beyond monotonous and I had to keep my mind active. I was able to watch TV with a set of periscope glass while flat on my back. But there was so much TV I could watch. I needed something else to keep my mind active and positive. First, I wrote a story about an insect that had somehow made it into the room. I watched its movements almost all day, every day. I wrote a fantasy story about how at night it would turn into a beautiful nurse and go and kiss the cripple patients and off course when they woke in the morning the could walk again—but there was one catch to the story. If the cured person was ever again selfish they would be immediately crippled. Unfortunately the insect was soon discovered and swatted. Next I drew a portrait of my brother’s Balinese wife. I think this is where the Bali connection began. I did other things to amuse my self as well as the nursing staff. I grew a beard and shaved half off and then posted a sign above my bed reading, I’ve gone mad. Actually I wasn’t far from gowning a straight jacket. When I needed to go to x-ray I would ask the nurses to pull the sheet over my head, as if I was dead, and place a rose on my chest. They were more than happy to accommodate my wishes. I created many gimmicks to keep myself from falling off the edge of sanity!

So the big day came. It was time to get out of bed. After slowly raising me into a sitting position over a week the nurses brought a wheelchair to the bed and helped me stand. I asked if they could relinquish their grip so I could stand myself—I collapsed onto the bed in shock. I was unable to support myself. My mind reeled with panic. I can’t walk! I can’t walk! I was absolutely devastated. My physiotherapist, Sue Chance, calmed me and told me it will take time. I quickly cast away the negative thoughts and asked if we could start the rehabilitation immediately. She agreed and we went to the physiotherapy gym on the same floor.

I couldn’t even crawl, but with her great support and skill I was on crutches in a few weeks. A few months later, a hobbled out of the hospital on walking sticks.
(Thanks you Sue from the bottom of my heart)

Soon after my brother rang from Indonesia and said that he had bought me an air ticket to Bali. My parents took me to the airport and my mother gave me a hug and said see you in a month. My father, whom by the way was a great adventurer, shook my hand and whispered to me. “Don’t return until you have travelled the world”. I smiled and nodded my agreement. And that is exactly what I did.

Nine hours later I arrived in Bali. I will stop here. Below are a few things I will be writing about.

• Arrested as a suspected spy.
• Discovering new surf spots where the natives thought we were running on water.
• Building a yacht and sailing around Indonesia and chased by pirates.
• Running the biggest fashion company in Indonesia.
• Taking part in the biggest sky dive in history.
• Smuggling rubies out of the Golden triangle
• And many, many more.
  http://vindalvandakoff.blogspot.com.au/