I asked Matt Evans to share his story with us as inspiration for the #GrandAdventures project. It’s a great inspiration for anyone who has planned an adventure with a mate, only to suddenly realise that “life” has got in the way…

The idea came randomly one day when my friend The Mongoose and I were waiting in an impossibly long line for tickets at Xi’an train station in China. He’s a bit of a history geek (OK, a MASSIVE history geek) and so he took this opportunity to give me an impromptu lesson on Marco Polo’s journeys, explaining how the trade routes of the Silk Road were formed over many years between Asia and Europe. The queue didn’t seem to be going down at all, so over the next couple of hours we daydreamed about what a huge adventure it would be to retrace the route of the trading caravans and make it our next backpacking trip.

We spent the next few weeks on trains though China, Mongolia and Russia getting increasingly excited about the possibilities ahead of us – it seemed only fitting to finish one big ‘˜career break’ with plans for the next one. So by the time we said goodbye and parted company back in the UK, we had grand plans for an even grander adventure in the near future. It all seemed like the perfect idea – he would get his history fix, and I’md be able to duck out of the responsibilities that had terrified me since turning thirty.

But then LIFE happened. We both got new jobs. We found ourselves in new relationships. As time marched on, we both took postgraduate courses and got promotions. The girlfriends became ‘˜partners’ and all of a sudden we were house owners. Don’t get me wrong, every time we met up for a beer we’d talk wistfully and hopefully about our plans – and by last orders, we’d REALLY MEAN IT – but nothing firmed up, and in reality, the Silk Road dream didn’t seem to be getting any closer.

Then one day, we were tramping around in some fields near Penrith when The Mongoose stopped me on a footpath and said ‘˜If we don’t do it soon, we won’t do it at all’. And he was right. We’d been pontificating and dreaming about it for a few years, but hadn’t actually done anything about it. So right there and then we made a pledge, we set a date and with a firm manly handshake got the ball rolling for real.

It wasn’t easy. We had to persuade our girlfriends that a) We all needed to quit our jobs b)That it would be FUN travelling through barren desert and inhospitable mountain ranges c) There really ARE romantic restaurants and funky bars in Tashkent and Ashgabat. The Mongoose and I kind of believed these things when we said them, but maybe used a little artistic license in our persuasive techniques.

And for me, raising the funds whilst trying to retain some semblance of a social life, pay the mortgage and attend a spate of expensive weddings was the hardest part. I’mve always worked hard and played hard, but a five-month odyssey across Central Asia doesn’t come that cheap, and it was clear that to save the money for this wouldn’t be easy.

I’mve always found it too easy to fritter away money without meaning to, so I needed a bit more discipline in my spending habits. The Monk – my girlfriend – is a huge, huge fan of making lists, and once she’d bought into the idea she started scribbling away figuring out our outgoing expenses and incoming cash for the next year. Neither of us earned a huge amount, so to begin with it seemed like an impossible idea to save the several thousand pounds we each needed in a short time. Seeing what I spent money on each month written down in black and white gave me a bit more clarity, and showed me what my avoidable expenses were. It also gave The Monk the opportunity to be quite smug about the benefits of list-making.

The ‘˜Silk Road Fund’ quite simply had to become a priority if we wanted to make this journey happen.

First of all, I decided to make a sizeable direct debit every payday to a savings account which wasn’t very easy to withdraw money from. This meant that I really HAD to survive on what was left, and forced me to economise on other areas of my life, even if I didn’t want to when push came to shove.

This next bit is going to sound silly, but it really worked for me.

The Monk and I bought a big ceramic savings pot that needed to be smashed to get all the money inside. Every day we came in from work we put all the loose change in our pockets into it. No excuses. This might sound silly but after a while it became normal, and when we finally had a grand ‘˜Smashing Of The Jar’ ceremony, we had £962.28 in it. That’s quite a lot of money for a small daily ritual that didn’t seem to take much effort. There’s also something massively satisfying – and slightly tribal – about being able to hurl and smash a pot of coins on the patio with a caveman roar.

I started cycling to work a few days a week, and every time I did this I’md put the money I would have spent on petrol into another jar. The journey was seven miles each way, and when the weather was cold and wet I never fancied it – it took a bit of willpower to get into the saddle. But after a while I got fitter and faster, and as the money in the jar began to build up I resented it every time I had to pay for petrol at the pump. It seemed like such a waste when I could have been putting the money to better use.

We soon realised that we were spending a fair amount on going out at weekends. Not going nuts, but a table for two followed by drinks with friends all added up to quite a bit of cash per month. So we started to suggest people coming round to our house more, cooking for them and laying off the booze a bit. It actually became a much more interactive experience and we embraced the fun of creating a meal rather than just receiving it. No expensive taxi home at the end of the night, either.

We also took on second jobs – just an extra evening a week – which didn’t become the sort of thing we dreaded, but actually brought in an extra couple of grand each over a year.

All this led to one of the biggest adventures and best experiences of our lives. We packed in our jobs, rented the house out, and The Mongoose, The Monk and I set forth to travel from St Pancras to Xi’an overland. It took five months of our lives, created unforgettable memories and changed us all for the better.

Sure, our hotel room was bugged by the Turkmenistan government . Yes, I ate nothing but yak meat and stale bread for 9 days straight. And of course there were numerous edgy encounters with over-zealous customs officers. But these moments that seemed so uncomfortable at the time now make the most precious memories, and it honestly feels as though in five months of travelling we created five years worth of memories .

We made a decision to live the lives we love to live, and have never looked back. The Monk and I have now started new jobs that embrace travel, and are currently planning a South American adventure. None of this would have happened without that Penrith pledge on our country walk.

In the end, it was a ‘˜it’s now or never’ moment that made us take the plunge. We’d all travelled plenty before, but had got side tracked by the minutiae of everyday life. We’d had a whimsical goal for a while, but it needed some refocussing and lifestyle changes to mould it into reality.

The question I should have asked but didn’t was ‘œdo I need all this ‘˜stuff?’ ‘œ. We decided to be brutal, and cleared out our house, sold everything we hadn’t used for more than a year (excluding books, pictures and music) and put just the essentials into storage. It was only then that I realised how attached I’md become to material goods I didn’t need. I’mve now spent the last 15 months living on the move with the slowly evolving contents of a backpack, and I’mve never felt like I want for anything. It made me realise how easy it is to surround ourselves with glittering objects and clothes we never wear, when the bits that count – the things that really complement us and help to create amazing memories – can be carried with us.

I guess that if I was giving anyone advice on how to make the trip of a lifetime happen, it would be to take a deep breath and do something concrete that means it has to happen. We can all talk about what we want to do and make it sound convincing, but until you’ve actually passed a tipping point to make it happen – something that can’t be undone – then it’s all just dreams and window shopping. Personally, I find dreams unfulfilling and window shopping frustrating. So take the plunge. Do something permanent and immovable. Once you’ve done that, you’ll find a way to make the rest fall into place.

The funny thing was, once we’d saved up the money without living like hermits or living on beans on toast, The Monk and I looked at each other and wondered why we hadn’t been making these changes to our lives since we met. We hadn’t felt unduly broke, we hadn’t lost any friends, and we didn’t feel as though we’d worked our fingers to the bone. Yet somehow we’d saved enough money to have the adventure of a lifetime. All it took was a little thinking, a few tweaks and a bit of willpower.

Plus of course, the wonderful clarity of The Monk’s lists.

You can read more from Matt here.
You too can get involved with Adventure1000 here.

My new book, Grand Adventures, is out now.
It’s designed to help you dream big, plan quick, then go explore.
The book contains interviews and expertise from around 100 adventurers, plus masses of great photos to get you excited.

I would be extremely grateful if you bought a copy here today!

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Thank you so much!