My story

I am a 28 year-old artist originally from Britain, who’s work is mostly centred around documentary filmmaking and writing. The life that I lead now is in stark contrast to how it appeared a decade ago. This is a space where I dive into deeper detail about my journey and to give justice to nuance, in a way that is challenging to communicate in forms other than the written word.

The reason why I articulate this openly is because I believe in the benefit of sharing one’s story — but it is a story that I do not wish to relive and bring into the present. I’m living forwards now, and although most people that I meet know little about my past, for those who are interested, this is where I recount those details.

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2014

Daily existence was a dark place. Anxiety and depression followed like a dark cloud. Drugs and alcohol became the crutch to stay upright in a world that was perpetually tipping upside-down. With a tendency to gravitate towards extremes, this descent into darkness became increasingly amplified until the pain of my current circumstances could no longer be tolerated. Overweight and succumbed by chronic physical and psychological pain, something had to change. I transitioned to a plant-based diet in 2014, helping to shed the physical weight that I was carrying — but this was only the beginning of a meandering process which as of yet continues to unfold.

2015

After oscillating between an unsustainable, party-centric lifestyle as a teenager and brief bursts of attempting to improve my mental and physical health, I finally felt the need to break free and pursue a healthier path, for good. I quit smoking, drinking and taking drugs. I completely removed myself from my friend group (or who I thought were my friends, although in hindsight were more unhealthy acquaintances) and decided to take my own way, embracing solitude and looking to nature for answers. It was an isolating time but the patches of woodland became a respite. I studied photography at college and used these photo projects to explore themes and topics such as Impressionism, urban exploration, and the disconnect between humanity and nature. My creative work has always been reflective of psychological undercurrents which make more sense in hindsight.

2016

I decided to invest in a road bike in the spring of 2016 after delivering take-out food as an underpaid Deliveroo rider for 3 months in a wet and cold British winter. This decision became a catalyst for a new approach to living, using creativity and movement as an anchor to stay committed to a different and more positive path — moving away from a dark past that was enshrouded in the shadows of depression and anxiety. Instead of using substances to escape and numb the heavy emotions, I went towards those emotions, embracing discomfort and used movement in the outdoors as a means of therapy. In some ways I had swapped one addiction for another, but it was a healthier transition.

Within a few months, I was riding more than 200 miles a week. Only four months after my first road bike ride in the British countryside, I had completed the RideLondon 100 with a friend and raised thousands of pounds for charity. This would set the stage for what would follow — a long and undulating journey that used adventure as a means of facilitating deep, inner transformation — as well as a means of escapism.

Leaving home, I enrolled to study nature photography and filmmaking at Falmouth University. The first year was a blur. Freshers week, typically spent partying, meeting new friends and binge drinking — was instead spent exploring the wild edges of Cornish coast by bike. I had made only a few friends but began to intimately know the landscape and topography of Cornwall. I rode myself into oblivion to the point of burnout — I couldn’t walk up the stairs without being in pain from overtraining. My healthier crutch became a different sort of prison. I was a difficult person to be around at times, as anyone dealing with their long-suppressed emotional baggage is. I began exploring practices to work through things: psychedelics, meditation, breathwork.

2017

In the first two years of riding, I had covered more than 17,000 miles and accumulated nearly 1,000,000 feet of elevation gain. I was hooked, but I began to realise that I had found a new comfort zone. Being an athlete gave a socially-validating mask to hide behind. It was incredible to see the breadth of how life could change, but I was still running away. Still plagued by persistent anxiety, I was so accustomed that I couldn’t see beyond it. Panic attacks and disassociation came frequently but I couldn’t recognise it, so it became a new sort of normal. It seemed it would require a new approach to unravel the internal knots. I lost my connection with creativity for a time but it would soon begin to resurface.

2018

In the beginning of the year, I went on a trip to the jungles of Mexico with my family. It was an eye-opening experience — both in terms of how much beauty the world has to offer and in terms of how far I had still yet to go. We swam in the crystal-clear waters of the cenotes, initiated by Mayan shamans. I saw Americanised resorts and how they had colonised these ancient lands. It was overwhelming in many ways. An arrow had struck my subconscious — a reminder that something was emerging that I could’t yet perceive. I found myself caught in a psychological trap. I was inspired by the beauty that that this world has to offer — yet I felt existentially lost, like my life was devoid of meaning. I still suffered from frequent panic attacks, unable to shake the dis-ease that had followed me for many years. Pain was pushing me in a direction that I couldn’t yet see.

I decided to plan an adventure that would push me above and beyond what I had previously known. I plotted a 200 mile route that would take me from the south to north, traversing the entire country of Wales by bike in a single day. My intention was to raise money for Mind, a mental health charity. It had become apparent to me that a way to relieve suffering was through attempting to relieve the suffering of others. Even though the effect might be small, the sense of purpose gave clarity that I desperately needed. I began to see beyond the myopic perspective of my own personal world, my own suffering, and look for how I could be of service to others who were in need.

In May, I went with a good friend, Lily, and began the road trip up to Wales. Starting at 6am the following day, I embarked on a journey that would take me across mountains and rivers, through forests and villages, facing a torrential storm and gale-force winds from the Irish Sea that soaked me to my bones and pushed me to my limit. I felt physical pain that I had never felt before, but I knew it was nothing compared to what I had already faced in the past. I battled mental demons that taunted and threatened to derail the journey, but my intention was clear: it wasn’t about me. It was about raising money for a charity that I believed in, that I knew would have a positive impact beyond myself. Lily’s selfless support was vital and I will be forever grateful. I rolled into Bangor in northern Wales as the sun set over the ocean, completely empty and but elated beyond belief. When we arrived at the rented caravan on a farm in the Welsh countryside, I burst out with hysterical laughter at the absurdity of it all. I was exposed to the hidden capacity that resides within all of us, to transcend and overcome.

Soon after, I went on a trip to the Austrian Alps to spend some time exploring the high mountains of Europe. I felt called to make a short video, forcing myself to confront self-censorship around creativity and an overwhelming fear of judgement. I had no idea what I was doing, with no previous experience. I used an old iPhone and a small drone and created Rediscovery. It was a humble beginning but one that would transpire into a future career path in visual storytelling.

In summer, I began to take up trail running as a new means of exploring in nature. I couldn’t get a job because I had almost no work experience due to the turmoil of my teenage years. I lived lean on potatoes and muesli and stretched my student loan until the next payment came through. I spent many days running along the south-coast of Cornwall, fuelled by cheap sultanas, completely enchanted by the beauty of mid-summer and the majesty of the Atlantic ocean. I decided to produce a short video about this transition from cycling to trail running, New Beginnings, sharing a perspective about embracing change and newness. Once again, Lily was there to support this project and without her, it would not have been possible.

I finally decided to dive into the world of social media after resisting it for many years. Sharing my thoughts and experiences became a creative outlet, not only fulfilling on a personal level but also because it was well received by others. I noticed that through openness and vulnerability, it allowed others to connect and feel less isolated with their own troubles.

After only three months of running, in a characteristic streak of extremes, I decided to sign up for a 50-kilometre ultramarathon along the coastline of Devon — creating another video — Into the Unknown, with the intention that it could encourage others to create positive changes and to question their perceived potential. I wasn’t racing for a place or position, but for an experience of adventure. My focus was more process-oriented instead of goal-oriented, and these rolling south-west hills were now etched deep into my psyche, coming back in dreams that I’m still to decipher.

2019

The following year, a short film that I had directed and produced with support from my friend Lily — The Novice — was being shown at the Trails in Motion film festival at Falmouth University. Only a year prior, I was sat in the very same lecture theatre watching a showcase of inspiring trail running films, when I had been approached by Andrew ´Ferg´ Ferguson to produce a short documentary following the story of Ellie Putali, as she takes on her first 100-kilometre ultramarathon. A year later, I had found myself being interviewed in a full audience of fellow trail runners about the process of taking up filmmaking and becoming a trail runner. An article I wrote about this experience was later published in an edition of Ultra magazine.

After becoming injured, I embarked on a trip to La Palma in the Canary Islands to produce the final project for my studies at Falmouth. I found myself exposed to an entirely new way of being. I discovered the principles of permaculture, meeting many individuals who had dropped out of conventional society in order to live more in tune with the rhythms of nature. I produced a coffee table book — An Unintended Journey — that comprised of a photo-journal, telling the stories of these individuals and their unique stories and perspectives.

When I had finished my studies and left Cornwall, I decided to continue exploring Europe to see what it had to offer. Two months were spent living in a tent, in a secluded valley in the Algarve. Autumn was rolling around and the inspiration to return to the mountains had resurfaced. I had a few hundred pounds to my name and I headed to the French Alps and spent two months producing videos for a chalet business, spending almost all of my free time exploring the trails and panoramic surroundings of Tignes and the Vanoise national park. After signing up and completing a 60-kilometre mountain race, the Trail du Petit Saint Bernard, I produced a video called Alpine Dreams. A month later I created a book, with the same title as the video, which included written pieces of thoughts strung together by mountain peaks, accompanied by vibrant and dream-like images that portrayed the emotions of that time.

2020

In 2020, I had decided that I wanted to relocate to the Canary Islands, having felt so inspired by and connected to the landscape on previous visits. After studying and training, I launched a coaching business to help guide others on their journey. Covid derailed my relocation plans and in March and I decided to head back to the UK until further notice, focusing on my work instead.

In July, Italy had reopened its borders and I decided to spend some months living a secluded existence in the Alps. During that time, I did a 300-kilometre bikepacking trip to Switzerland and back, completely self-supported.

After a few months spent living a hermit-like existence, it was time to consider where the next move would be. I did some research and moved to the Serra da Monchique, living in an old truck that was now a tiny house, nestled in a valley, where I discovered off-grid living. I got my Portuguese residency and managed to stay in Europe after brexit.

2021

6 months were spent living completely off-grid in Portugal over winter, before I bought an old converted Mercedes van and decided to use this as my temporary home. It was pretty fucked up but it had a lot of character, and the wooden interior won me over. The mechanical issues made sure to balance out my euphoria. Driving through Spain and crossing the Pyrenees, I lived for 7 months on the French side of the mountains, working as a cycling guide and chef, spending many days exploring the winding roads and steep peaks.

High summer hit and I felt the inspiration to embark on a cycling voyage into the French Pyrenees, covering 250km and traversing 5 mountain passes in one day.

In August, a friend called Mike Cotty decided to plan his own cycling adventure which would become a film called Full Circle, which I directed, shot and edited after a hiatus from filmmaking. I would consider this my first proper project and the emergent quality of this story is something truly special.

Brought together by a mutual love for the mountains and a desire for further exploration, we embarked on a 400-kilometre bikepacking trip across the Pyrenees into Spain, and back again over two days, crossing 10 mountain passes. I wrote about the journey in a story called Bikepacking & The Unknown.

That winter, it was time to return home for Christmas. I decided to drive 5000 kilometres in total from the Pyrenees back to the south of England, and back to Portugal again in February. It was a silly decision given the dire state of my van, but I figured that this is what I bought it for. I broke down a couple of times but thankfully it was nothing serious. This road trip became the inspiration to start sharing my written stories through a Substack page: Wandering & Wondering.

2022

After my last film project, Full Circle, I was offered a long-term contract for a video project and signed up to work as a videographer and editor for Wahoo Fitness. This facilitated the continuation of the road trip way of living, taking me across Spain, Portugal and Italy over a period of 4 months, which I documented through photos and writing. It was brutal at times, given the intense scope of the work and the reality check of paying of debts that stacked up during covid. It sounds cooler than it was, and although there were good memories I was desperate to head back to Portugal and take some time to recover.

In October, I produced a short film in collaboration with Silent Living, entitled Back to Simplicity, which I directed, wrote and edited.

In November, I went on a road trip up with my dog up to Serra da Estrela, the highest mountain range in continental Portugal. Inspired by the landscape I wrote a two-part story: Above the Clouds & Into the Valleys, accompanied by a short film. I decided to move there and explored the mountains of Central Portugal until August the following year, living off savings from selling my beloved van until I ran out. It was a reality check of the hardships of rural living.

2023

2024

2025

2026

To be continued.

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These past years have been an evolutionary process and anything but linear — painful, confronting, humbling but ultimately beautiful. I would place emphasis on the word process, because there is never an end-point. We are perpetually evolving and unfolding. I don’t think we need to know where the future takes us and we couldn’t predict if it we tried. I believe in emergence and life’s ability to bring networks together: social, ecological, psychological. I’m less interested in goal setting and more interested in revealing. Somehow it becomes less personality-driven and more driven by something else at play.

I hope this further explanation of my journey can be of use in some way — whether that is to gain a deeper understanding of who I am and what I do, or if somehow you have benefited from what I have shared. Either way it’s nice to have somewhere to dump it all so I can keep cracking on and let it go.

- Adrian