Where In The World Is Evan?

It was Sunday afternoon, and the last in a string of baking hot days. My tent sat pitched in the levy of the drought stricken Goulburn Valley River, and I sat unmoving on a warm esky out front, pulling what was probably my 20th cone for the morning.

Feeling a slight jab of pain on my right foot I looked down. Swarming over the myriad of cuts and abrasions on my battered feet were a dozen or more flies. As I waved my hand half-heartedly over my feet, they lifted off and hovered annoyingly around my head. Bending over to get a closer look, I idly scratched the freshly laid maggots from the open wound and crawled back into my 40 degree tent.

Welcome to day three of the Earthcore Global Carnival!

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In a post back in March I talked quite a bit about my reasons for blogging, however, what I didn’t really address were the complications that stem from making such open and public admissions about my life.

Many of you who read this blog have met me during my travels, and of those who have, quite a lot of you feature in my stories. My audience over time, however, has grown to include many more people whom I’ve never met, and until recently, never thought I’d meet.

Over a month ago, while attending the Earthdance Festival in Melbourne, I got something of a surprise. While queueing up for a beer in a sand-pit I was approached by a woman in her mid-twenties, who walked right up to me, stopped, and gave me a very considered look. “You’re Evan, right?” she said, after a short pause.

In general, I’m pretty poor with names and faces, so as I looked blankly back, I racked my mind for even the slightest hint of recognition. “I don’t know you, do I?”

“You have a website… Where In The World Is Evan .com, right?” she said.

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