Stevo goes Walkabout

Of Tigers and Teas

2011-10-29T15:12:00.002+02:00

Waking up to another cloudy day in Darjeeling Aaron and I headed out onto the streets looking for a ride to Tiger Hill, however it turned out the share taxis were all out to fleece us from quite a chunk of money - Rs600 for a forty minute round trip, when we had paid Rs1000 for the three-and-a-half hour drive from New Jalpaiguri! Not wanting to miss out on visiting Tiger Hill, famed for its Himalayan vistas (when the clouds are kind enough to part), we opted for a share taxi down to Ghoom for the rather realistic sum of Rs15 (€0.20!), from where we had an 8km trek up to the top of Tiger hill (or so Lonely Planet warned us).

Welcome to Tiger Hill

In Ghoom one finds the end of the Darjeeling Toy Train. The tracks beyond Ghoom have been damaged by a land slide, so the train does a quick shuffle between Darj and Ghoom a few times a day. Other than the toy train station there isn't much to be seen in Ghoom, so we set off following our map and with the occasional pointer from friendly locals to find Tiger Hill and begin our trek to the 2590m summit. The rain clouds did dampen our spirits, but we were hoping that our sacrifice would be paid off by some good karma and a break in the clouds. On good days Tiger Hill offers a 250km view of Himalayan mountains (Darjeeling is about 20km from the border with Nepal), including Mount Everest and Mount Kanchendjonga (the third highest peak in the world). The hill was pretty steep, but at least we had a paved road to walk on, with fields and forests on both sides. I doubt we would have made it up the hill if we had been following a dirt track - the rain was coming down by the bucketful about an hour into our trek.

Off the beaten track - just for the photo!

Some three or four kilometers into our trek we came across a Hindu temple called Sincheal Singh Devi Dam where we stopped for a rest and shelter from the rain. The main entrance of the temple had a long line of brass bells leading to a shrine; Hindu devotees were ringing each bell on the way into and out of the shrine. The pealing of the bells together with the pattering of the rain made this a great place to stop for a rest - it felt like we were in a scene right out of a movie.
We were under the impression that we still had another three or four kilometers to get to the top of the hill, so when we saw a little Maruti toaster van we flagged it down for a ride to the top. We were quite surprised when about 500m and two corners into our ride the van pulled up into a parking lot at the top of Tiger hill! So much for Lonely Planet being always correct! It turns out that the hike from Ghoom to Tiger hill is just over 5km. A friendly Ghurka kept us company while we waited in vain for the clouds to open up. Sky, as we was called, talked about a range of subjects from music to football, and from politics to religion. The clouds did relent somewhat, but only far enough for us to get a tantalizing view of Darjeeling and the surrounding tea estates, but the Himalayan peaks were still obscured by clouds.

Tarzan the monkey

A forest of Prayer Flags

Back in Dajreeling we visited the temple at Observatory Hill. In 1828 a couple of meandering British officers came across the abandoned Dorje Ling monastery and thought that the location would be great for a new Hill Station from which to police the troubled hills. Observatory Hill is where the Dorje Ling monastery was once located. Nowadays it houses a cave shrine to Mahakala, a Buddhist god and one of the many forms of the Hindu god Shiva. The summit is home to many shrines and devotional bells, as well as a veritable forest of prayer flags that provide a playground for the local troupe of macaques. The younger monkeys seemed to take particular pleasure in playing Tarzan with the prayer flag chords.

Inter species dialogue

The local (very friendly) strays also wanted a bit of the attention - in fact a group of three or four strays followed us all round the temple and had a bit of fun chasing some monkeys around.

Happy Valley Tea
On our last full day in Darjeeling we headed down through the town and many narrow alleys towards the Happy Valley Tea estate - the highest and oldest tea estate in Darjeeling; a place that supplies the finest teas to Harrods amongst others. We paid Rs20 to a guide who took us on a whirlwind tour through the factory - not the most interesting of places I've ever visited, partly because there was no work going on, partly because the guide kept rushing through his explanations of the tea process.
Once we'd done the obligatory factory tour we approached an old lady asking for a cup of chai - BIG MISTAKE! The lady politely pointed out that "we don't drink Chai in Darjeeling, we drink TEA" and invited us in for a cuppa and a talk about the tea harvesting process.

Super fine tippy golden flowery orange pick one

Sitting in her living room, surrounded by crocheted cushion covers and stuffed animals, we were presented with four bowls of crushed tea leaves and asked to identify which one was the PREMIUM Darjeeling tea.
It turns out that Aaron knows his teas quite well and promptly recognised the "Super Fine Tippy Golden Flowery Orange Pick One" - I kid you not, that is the name of the tea variety! It is so called because it is super fine, made with the top two leaves (tips) of the tea bush, has a golden colour, and a flowery, orange smell; and of course is the number one pick of Darjeeling tea. According to our host this tea sells for £26 a pop from Harrods, but Aaron, with his expert nose, would not only be able to purchase the tea at wholesale price, he would also get a bonus for recognising the tea correctly!
Some interesting facts about tea:

Green Tea, White Tea and Black Tea all come from the same bush - the difference is the season in which the leaves are picked
Darjeeling tea is made with the top two leaves of each stem
Common tea is a blend of the lower leaves from the bush
India's favourite drink, Chai, is made from the powder that falls to the bottom of drying troughs in the tea production process - it is drunk with sweetened milk to cover the bitter taste

With our newfound knowledge of tea we set off into the tea fields for an afternoon of sun worshipping and general relaxation - the clouds were being very obliging today, coming and going intermittently, making for a very pleasant day to spend surrounded by the verdant expanses of Darjeeling's tea estates. In the afternoon we met a wizened, mute man who explained (or so we think) how he planted several fields around us. Our friendly guide showed us down to where the ladies of Darjeeling were picking tea (the fields we were in were not being worked on) so we got a few excellent photos of the ladies at work (while a man holding a colourful umbrella observed their progress).

Our time in Darjeeling was coming to a close, and we still hadn't caught a glimpse of the mighty Himalayas...

Kanchendzonga in all it's might

On our last morning in Darjeeling I stirred at about 4:30am. Something strange was happening outside - through foggy eyes I could make out bright sunshine. After a few seconds my groggy head registered what the sunlight meant. I jumped out of bed and ran to the roof of the guest house. Oh. My. Ganesh! It was the most beautiful, clear morning, and in the distance, poking its way through the clouds, was the mighty Himalayan Kanchendzonga. A mad dash back downstairs, camera round the neck, and a quick rattle of Aaron's bed, and before you know it I was back upstairs clicking away - I had no idea how long the break in the clouds would last, and I wanted to make the most of it.

Mt Kanchendzonga, India's highest peak at 8586m

Aaron finally stirred out of bed and made his way up to the roof - he wasn't really sure why I had shaken him out of his sleep, he said something about thinking the house was on fire, but when he did make it up to the top he was glad he'd woken up! We had about forty-five minutes of unobstructed views of the mountain, and even had a monkey join us in enjoying the view. We're not quite sure what the monkey was doing up so early - it didn't take the biscuits that Aaron offered it, and was nodding off every now and then. Still, it made for a nice scene and some good photos!

For more photos of Darjeeling visit my Picasa Web Albums. If you're on google+ add me to your circles (stevofarrugia at gmail)

I (heart) Darjeeling

2011-10-03T20:52:00.002+02:00

Yes, indeed, I do love Darjeeling! Stepping off the train at New Jalpaiguri we could immediately tell we had reached somewhere special: the stifling heat of Kolkata (where we had a 6 hour stopover between trains) was gone, replaced by cooler weather and heavy rain clouds threatening to cool us off even further. It felt like we had been transported to a different country overnight - the faces on the street were looking decidedly more eastern than the ones we had seen in the previous three weeks; the dress was different, even the manners (still plenty of beggars around though).

Rainwater doubles as
toothbrushing water

Getting there
Unfortunately (or maybe not?) in 2010 the Toy Train line (a narrow gauge railway) suffered a land slide, so we had to take a three hour taxi ride up the hills rather than a six or seven hour train. Our trusty Tata ferried us through New Jalpaiguri without any hassle, however before we began our ascent into the clouds the taxi driver asked for half the fair so he could fill up the tank! Up, up and away, we made our way through thick green forest, and up steep winding roads into the clouds.

A break in the clouds allowed us
a glimpse of how high we were going

Somewhere in the grey haze we came across a collapsed road, so the taxi had to detour through a backroad of rough gravel; meaning Aaron, myself and the other passenger had to get out of the taxi and walk for a few minutes. At the top of the hill some Gurkhas who were working on maintaining the gravel road demanded a 100Rs toll from the taxi driver, but he managed to haggle it down to 50. Its nice to see the locals attempting to fleece the locals for a change!

Above the Clouds (almost)
Our taxi dropped us off into a rainy, grey Darjeeling. and guide book in hand we set off seeking some affordable, warm accommodation. A visit to a couple of recommended hostels led us to realise that the whole of the section on Darjeeling in the guide book is completely off - the prices printed were much lower than what we were asked for (and our visit was in the low season). Anyway, I digress... after about half an hour of walking through the streets and meeting more friendly inhabitants of Gorkhaland we finally found an agreeable place - Andy's Guest House, run by the charming Mrs. Gurung. Hot water, carpeted floors, and a viewing terrace on the roof for Rs500 a night - a bit on the pricey side, but the hot showers alone were worth the extra Rs100 over the closest competitors!

We set off into the haze to get our bearings of Darjeeling and find some meaty treats: since Darjeeling is predominantly Buddhist there are a variety of meats for sale, including beef and pork - two delicacies that we hadn't encountered at all in our Indian travels! My first impressions of Darjeeling were of being in a different country - the locals offer friendly smiles, but there is hardly any begging, and the "hello, how are you?'s" were so few and far between that they were negligible. There wasn't even any staring or taking of mobile phone pictures!

Fried pork momos

Our first culinary foray into Tibetan food was an encounter with Momos - delicious Tibetan dumplings, either fried or steamed, stuffed with pork, chicken or vegetables and served with a spicy sauce. Perfect backpacker food: proteins, carbohydrates, warmth and a price to suit every budget!

Darjeeling: Not for bicycles!
On a cloudy day in Darjeeling Aaron and I approached one of the many travel shops in Darjeeling and attempted to rent a Royal Enfield to explore the Himalayan foothills. Unfortunately Indian vehicle rental isn't as lax as it is in the rest of Asia - or maybe it was just this shop - the only way we could rent the bike was with an international driving permit, something that neither Aaron nor I had applied for going on my previous travel experiences.
Not wanting to miss out on what the Himalaya have to offer Aaron and I foolishly rented a couple of wonky mountain bikes. Our reasoning was that Darjeeling, being the highest town (besides Tiger Hill) in the region, would be above the attractions we intended to visit. We'd simply roll downhill to the attractions, explore, then start pedaling slowly uphill. Whenever our aching muscles gave up on us we could simply flag down one of the many 4x4 taxis that ply the Himalayan hills and catch a ride back up to Darjeeling.
Silly silly silly reasoning that was! We spent 45 minutes pedaling UPHILL from Darjeeling towards our first stop. Giggling locals were walking past us, literally barreling towards the temple we intended to visit, while Aaron and I toiled with our bikes. Mine even had the added bonus of the rear tyre rubbing against the breaks once a revolution. Exhausted, winded, with knees on fire, we realised that the hills had beaten us; so, tail tucked firmly between our legs, we set off back downhill towards the demon who had rented us the bicycles to get rid of the infernal contraptions.
Our hour of pedaling hell led us to the conclusion that foot power is the way to see the Himalaya (since we couldn't have the 400cc propulsion of a Royal Enfield), and we settled in for a relaxed afternoon watching the clouds fly by in the heart of Darjeeling.

Check in later to find out about the rest of our adventures in Darjeeling! In the meantime you can see some excellent photos of Darjeeling in my Picasa Web albums.

The middle way

2011-09-14T21:26:00.003+02:00

The Giant Buddha Statue unveiled
by the Dalai Lama in 1989

Bodhgaya is a small town that lies roughly half way between Varanasi and Kolkata, in the very poor state of Bihar. There are no train stations in Bodhgaya - the closest station is the city of Gaya, 13km away. Yet Bodhgaya is a major stop on the Buddhist pilgrimage route and sees a huge influx of devotees every year. The Dalai Lama makes a yearly pilgrimage to this holiest of Buddhist localities.
There's a reason for this Buddhist devotion - it was here in Bodhgaya that the prince Siddhartha Gautama achieved enlightenment underneath the Bodhi Tree and became the first Buddha. If you're not into Buddhism and visiting eastern temples, then Bodhgaya is not worth a stopover. However, if you're fascinated by eastern cultures and would like to see the place where one of the greatest world religions was founded, then be sure to visit.
Reaching Bodhgaya was quite an experience - 13km in an autorickshaw is not for the feint of heart, and the authorities in Bihar don't make life any easier. Every so often the road is lined with about 15 "rumble strips" that make the sleeping police we favour in Malta look like blips on the tarmac. On an autorickshaw without suspension, and virtually no headroom this is a recipe for sore heads and lots of cricked necks. Once in Bodhgaya our rickshaw picked up about half a dozen tails - on motorbikes, on bicycles, or on foot - all of them desperately trying to get us to follow them to their guest house. Sadly for them they only got a bit of exercise out of us, as we already had a plan for the night - we would be staying at one of the many Buddhist monasteries that offer lodging for travellers. We found lodging in the Tibetan temple where we were given a very clean room with fan and a shared bathroom for a very reasonable Rs200 (€3.20). There wasn't much interaction to be had with the Buddhist monks - they pretty much kept themselves to themselves, but it was nice to have access to the "behind the scenes" life in a monastery - our lodgings were behind the line marked "No entry beyond this point".

Intricate brushwork at
the Bhutanese temple

On the streets of Bodhgaya (its a very small town) we started on the Buddhist temple circuit, visiting the Nipponji (Japanese) and Bhutanese temples. Bodhgaya provides an interesting juxtaposition of the various temples of worship from all over the world, one next to the other. Its like travelling allover south east Asia in a short 2km walk. Though the basic principles are the same, the devil's in the details - every temple has unique aspects, be it the colourful murals, or the manicured gardens, or in the case of the Thai wat, the innumerable reflective panels adorning it!

The Great Awakening

The main attraction in Bodhgaya has to be the Mahabodhi temple complex where the first Buddha achieved enlightenment. This sprawling, peaceful complex houses a giant wat surrounded by landscaped gardens and a fish pond. It is in this garden, beneath a giant Bodhi tree that Buddha achieved enlightenment. Below the tree you'll find hundreds of Buddhist devotees meditating. The tree isn't the original one that Siddhartha Gautama sat under, but it is a direct descendant. The Emperor Ashoka's wife, jealous of the attention her spouse paid to the sacred tree, suffered a fit worthy of the Queen of Hearts and killed the tree. As luck would have it, a sapling had been taken from the tree many years before and planted in Ceylon (Sri Lanka); and the Bodhi tree that stands in the Mahabodhi temple today has grown from a cutting taken from the Ceylon tree.

Dungeshwari Cave Temples
For our second and final day in Bodhgaya we decided to brave another long rickshaw ride to visit the Dungeshwari caves, where Buddha spent six years meditating in complete isolation, neither supping nor drinking. It took us a good hour to travel the 20 or so kilometers from Bodhgaya to the foot of the hill, but it was a very interesting (albeit back-breaking) ride through paddy fields and rural villages. Lots of friendly smiles and waving children, as well as the occasional water buffalo lying in the middle of the dirt road.

Lemur!

The forest surrounding the hills housing the cave temple quickly thinned out and we were out in the sun for a 20 minute slog up the steep concrete path. Towards the top we found some more trees for cover, and a languid lemur was sitting in the shade munching on some biscuits. As with all temple complexes, we were harangued by the usual beggars and peddlers of incense and prayer flags. Running the gauntlet, we made our way to the temple proper. Temple is a bit of a misnomer - the cave has pretty much been left untouched since the days of Gautama Buddha: a statue representing a very skinny Buddha after his six years of fasting has been placed inside, and a couple of monks are always on duty to make prayers and offerings with Buddhist devotees and curious western travellers.
Five minutes of chanting, a red dot on our forehead, and some crystallised rice in our mouths (straight form the hands of the monk) and we were feeling suitably blessed and ready to head out and face the world. We even, foolishly, thought it might be a good idea to try to climb to the top of the hill. In the tropical heat, wearing flip flops and trying to weave our way through the trees: NO WAY! After about five minutes we desisted and headed back down to our waiting rickshaw for the bumpy ride back into town.

Moving On
Two days in Bodhgaya went quickly by, but I doubt we would have found many other ways to fill our time had we spent longer in the town. Certainly, we could have whittled away the hours sitting in the shade of the Bodhi tree, but there's only so much sitting around that Aaron and I were willing to do on our three week trip to India. We took a rickshaw back to Gaya four our night train to Kolkata that was running four hours late, but understandably so, as a tree had fallen onto the tracks.

Benares goes Orange

2011-09-01T17:18:00.000+02:00

Varanasi - the magical City. Also known as Benares. City of Ghats. City of the Ganges. City of Sadhus. One of the oldest continually inhabited places on earth. The holiest Hindu city in India. The most auspicious place for a Hindu to die... the list of sobriquets could go on and on, for Varanasi is a city of many talents and a rich history. Possibly one of my favourite places on our itinerary.Off the night train, one intense rickshaw ride through city streets that could be anywhere in India, and we are dropped off in the old quarter, close to Dasaswamhed Ghat, the focal point of activity on the Ganges.
Out of the scorching sun, and into the narrow alleys, we set off seeking accommodation. We attracted the ubiquitous guest house tout, who proceeded to trail us (or keep just a step ahead of us) in our wanderings - we asked nicely, we asked not so nicely (and in several languages) for him to desist - we even ducked into a café for ice-cream and iced tea, but he was still there waiting! It was only on the doorstep of the Gangpati Guesthouse that he abandoned us - bounced away at the door by one of the staff!
Free from our backpacks, Aaron and I set off into the afternoon heat with cameras at the ready: Varanasi is teeming with Hindu pilgrims, Sadhus, beggars, cows and picturesque alleys.With Shiva Purana in full swing, Dasaswamhed Ghat was teeming with orange-clad devotees jostling for a chance to dip into the Ganges for the daily Ganga Aarti (river worship) ritual. Varanasi locals wash in the river twice daily, whereas pilgrims carry away flasks of the brown water for use at home (kind of like Catholics at Lourdes) - the waters of the holy river wash away bad Karma you may have accumulated during the day. Beyond the sea of orange, and onto the first steps of the Ghat, we were met with a sight unlike any photo of Varanasi we had beheld. The whole platform had been swallowed by the swollen waters of the Ganges. The mighty river had gone from a placid body of water to a swirling mass of brown - the current was so strong that boat owners were barred from carrying tourists for the mandatory dawn boat ride. The ban didn't stop some boat operators from inflating the prices by 600% (to make up for any baksheesh that may have to be paid to inquisitive police officers) for a ban flouting boat, dangerous boat ride.
On the few steps of the Ghat that were still above the waterline were Hindu holy men and women dispensing Puja boosting flowers and offerings, and Aaron got himself another Tikka on the forehead.Once we'd had our fill of orange-clad devotees dripping in water from the Ganges rubbing against us (maybe we got ourselves some Puja by proxy) we headed into the narrow lanes for some exploration and photography. The Lonely Planet guide book warns you about the "Varanasi shakedown" and how the city is teeming with touts and tricksters, but barring the guest house tout in the morning and a couple of offers to "come into my shop for a look" we weren't hassled.Our explorations took us to a few other Ghats (also flooded) and past many shops with nice trinkets for the folks back home.
Laden with shopping (hand painted t-shirts, window hangings, bags and CDs) and our supply of Rupees considerably whittled down, we made our way past some very angry bulls and back to the guest house. Gangpati guest house deserves a special mention for the friendly atmosphere and awesome balcony rooms overlooking the Ganges. The food from their kitchen is your typical Indian guest house fair - a mix of local dishes with a sprinkling of Indianised Western dishes (everything is flavoured with curry) and some Chinese favourites - also "made from the heart". However the garden courtyard with its fountain, and the rooftop restaurant with fresh breezes and views of the river more than make up for the waiting time.

Manikarnika - The Burning Ghat
When a Hindu dies in Varanasi they are released from the cycle of rebirth. Cremation on the banks of the Ganges and subsequent dispersal of your ashes into the holy waters ensures that you won't come back as a cockroach or a Sadhu, but will attain a blissful state of not-being-but-being-at-the-same-time. Young children and Sadhus are not cremated - the bodies are give up to the currents wrapped in a shroud. They float away if the currents are strong enough.As we came close to the burning Ghat we were accosted by a "priest" (?) who claimed to work in the house of the dying, requesting a hefty donation (he mentioned something about us buying wood for funeral pyres at $13 a kilo!) in order for us to achieve "good karma and appreciate the Hindu culture". When we refused to comply he barred our entry to the Ghat and shooed us away... so we took another alley and approached the Ghat from the opposite direction. Manikarnika Ghat was very different to the Ghat we visited in Agra - there were several cremations going on when we arrived, with more bodies arriving on the shoulders of doms (outcasts who traditionally handle dead bodies) and lots of mourners. A strong feeling of voyeurism overtook us so we beat a respectful retreat. I guess watching the events from a boat at a respectful distance would not have been as uncomfortable.

Kama Sutra - Only for the Flexible!

Away from the Ghats we made our way to the Nepali Kama Sutra temple. This hidden gem is covered in carvings depicting scenes from that oh-so-famous Hindu book, the Kama Sutra. Seeing the sculptures I couldn't help but wonder at the flexibility that some of the poses required! Here we met a friendly Sadhu who gave us some biscuits and told us about his daily routine of prayer and meditation.

The rest of our time in Varanasi was spent wandering the streets, offering alms to beggars and Sadhus (more good Karma!) and sipping cold drinks in our balcony overlooking the Ganges. Our visit coincided with the waters of the Ganges being swollen, so we didn't get the full blown Ghat effect (since most Ghats were underwater); but not many travellers have seen Varanasi in this state. Plus, I've got an ironclad excuse to visit this spiritual city again!

Visiting Agra: Not just for the Taj Mahal

2011-08-24T16:25:00.000+02:00

Traveller Lesson #42
Always set up multiple back-up Alarms! On the morning of the 24 July we were scheduled to wake up at 4:45am, for a Rickshaw to pick us up at 5:15 and take us to the station in Jaipur.
Instead of setting a new alarm, I "recycled" one of the ones already on my phone, and set it for 4:45am. What I didn't notice at the time was that the alarm was set to go off on *WEEKDAYS*. As you can imagine, we didn't wake up in time, and our hotel receptionist only saw it fit to come and wake us up to let us know that our Rickshaw driver had grown tired of waiting and left!
So, here we are, standing in the pouring monsoon rain at 5:20am with not an autorickshaw or taxi in sight, and the hotel staff telling us it will take at least 45 minutes to arrange a taxi pickup. Our train departs at 6:20am!
With nothing to lose we set off into the rain, running blindly in the direction of the train station. A taxi parked at the side of the road, but its driver nowhere to be seen. A couple of Indians squatting under an awning, telling us to get out of the rain and sit down. More running in the rain (and with the water about ankle deep). A rickshaw flashes past... it slows down, and we're allowed to squeeze in with some locals! Phew!
We're soaking wet, but we're at the station before our train even rolls into the station. Minor catastrophe averted, and hey, we're riding first class to Agra!

Agra: The Fort
The Mughal fort in Agra was started by Emperor Akbar in 1565, but it was Akbar's grandson Shah Jahan (the one who built the Taj) who made the most additions and turned the fort into the opulent palace that we see today. Good thing he dressed it up as he did too, as Aurangzeb, his son and heir, imprisoned him inside the fort for the last eight years of his life! Aurangzeb was considerate enough to give his father a room with a view of the Taj, so he could gaze upon the monument to his wife.
The fort's perimeter walls and much of the internal structure are made of finely carved red sandstone, but Shah Jahan's additions are in white marble, similar to the material used for the Taj. The fort is very impressive, its location on the banks of the Yamuna, with excellent views of the Taj Mahal, coupled with the overcast (read slightly cooler) weather made for an enjoyable visit. A special mention goes to the creative use of the English language that is used in the informative signs - the English isn't always crystal clear, but it is great fun trying to decipher the messages! The fort provides for plenty of photo opportunities and a bit of an adrenaline rush - many areas have sheer drops that kind of creep up on you as you try to get just the right angle for a photo, and not a single safety cordon to be seen.
Our Rickshaw Wallah was right when he suggested we wouldn't need a guide: armed with a good guidebook and the signage in the fort you can get a pretty decent idea of what it is you're looking at (and good luck trying to find a guide who can make themselves understood in English!).

Agra: City of Tombs
Onwards and upwards, Khan, our Rickshaw Wallah, took us to visit some other attractions in Agra, amongst them the Itimad-Ud-Daulah, also known as the Baby Taj. This mausoleum houses Mizra Ghiyas Beg, grandfather of Mumtaz Mahal (she who is buried in the Taj) and the emperor Jehangir's Wazir (cheif minister). Also sitting on the Yamuna river, it provides a taster for what the Taj has to offer - white marble, finely carved screens and inlaid pietra dura.
Moving on from the Baby Taj Khan took us to visit some other mausoleums, all nicely perched on the banks of the river and tucked away in shady areas. These made for a nice break from the hectic and smoggy chaos that reigned on the streets of Agra City.
Our last stop for the evening was the Mehtab Bagh, or just outside it actually. This park, built just across the water from the Taj Mahal, is the perfect spot to view the sun setting on the Taj Mahal, however everyone knows that you can save yourself Rs100 and walk down to the riverbank, where you'll have an identical view as the one afforded by the garden! A pity we visited India during the monsoon, as the overcast weather we had been so happy with earlier in the day made for a muddy sunset and no amazing colour changes. Ah well, one more reason to visit India again!

The Taj Mahal: Too great for words
The Taj Mahal. You'll have seen hundreds of pictures of it. The forecourt is always thronging with people. A mass of sari-wrapped women and men in kurtas and turbans, lots of camera clicking tourists and the inevitable touts and "guides".
Wake up early, and you'll see none of that! Aaron and I were at the West Gate at about 5:45am, so we were the first inside the complex. WOW! As you can see from the photos - not a soul in sight, except for a tag-along Indian who took us to all the "postcard photo" spots in exchange for a handful of rupees.
I'm finding it hard to put into words the feeling of walking through the outer gate, through the Mughal gardens with their symmetrical fountains and flower beds, with the white marble domes and minarets rising above you, looking a hell of a lot bigger than any picture might have suggested.
With lens barrels smoking from all the photos we'd taken we slowly approached the central building - Mumtaz Mahal and Shah Jahan's mausoleum. Sitting on a raised platform with its four minarets standing guard, the Taj seems to float above you, reaching to the sky.
Shoes off, and onto the cool white marble. Up close and personal, one really appreciated the skill that goes into the pietra dura work. The craftsmen first carve a slot into the marble (say in the shape of a petal), into which they snugly slot a piece of coloured semi-precious stone. This is then polished till it becomes one with the marble - running your fingers over the patterns you cannot detect any joins or grooves. 20,000 Indians and craftsmen from Central Asia, 22 years, all for a monument in the name of love. Worth every drop of sweat that was shed.

Having had our fill of the Taj (we spent a good hour sitting in the gardens, observing from different angles) we decided to brave the streets of Taj Ganj once more. Our first stop was the burning Ghat situated close to the Taj. Ghats are platforms on the river banks, and burning Ghats are the pontoons that are used for Hindu burials and cremations. I don't think many people visit the burning Ghat in Agra, as Aaron and I attracted a lot of sideways glances (and many friendly nods too). The Ghat was not very busy when we visited, it looked as if a cremation had just been completed as a pile of ash was being gathered and thrown into the river.
Not wanting to impose our presence on mourners, we beat a hasty retreat back to the city, where we spent a couple of hours wandering the squalid lanes with their open sewers, meandering cows, occasional monkeys and mad motorists, before heading back to our guest house for a quick nap before taking our night train to Varanasi.

Jaipur City

2011-08-18T11:18:00.002+02:00

On the eve of my birthday our Indian culinary adventures finally caught up with us, so we had to spend our first day in the Rajasthani state capital recovering in bed at our hotel - luckily we had WiFi access to keep us entertained, as the room was dull and dreary, and the rooftop terrace didn't hold much promise (overcast, hazy weather and lots of pollution).

A birthday fit for a Traveller
Duly rested and reenergised we woke up on the 23rd of July ready for a day of sightseeing and monkey madness. The monsoon rains didn't dampen our spirits, and with waterproof linings firmly on our backpacks we set out towards our first stop: Galta, the monkey temple that lies on the outskirts of the city. This temple was made famous by the National Geographic series Monkey Thieves (link to wikipedia page above).
Our rickshaw wallah told us that half an hour would be enough time for us to climb the steep hill, look around, and head back down for him to take us into town... what a load of tosh! It took Aaron and I a good 15 minutes just to climb the first hill, at which point we realised that our driver had dropped us off on the *OPPOSITE* side of the hill to the monkey temple! We would have to trek downhill to get to the temple complex and baths. So much for his "half an hour and you are back here". On our way up we were met by dozens of monkeys being fed cucumbers and bananas by worshipers of the Hindu deity Hanuman, as well as the odd pig or two (being chased away from the offerings to the Monkey Gods by the worshippers!) and a few stray cows.
At the top of the hill we were rewarded with a beautiful view of Jaipur, the Pink City, with its many fortified walls and minarets behind us, and some lush rainforest and hills in front of us. Down below us we could see the proper temple complex, so we quickly hurried away from the fortune tellers that were trying to draw us into their lairs and on towards the Monkey Madness. The temple complex is nestled between ridges, and features a series of vast bathing pools (segregated by sex, obviously) where Hindu worshippers take a dip in the water issuing from underground springs. The stairs leading down to the bathing pools and the main entrance to the temple are the monkey's playground. We had to tread carefully, as those macaques have big teeth, and the nursing mothers were especially aggressive towards us.
Having made it through the monkey gauntlet we explored the temples for a short while (lots of murals depicting Hindu scenes and plenty of worshippers willing to pose for photos). Once we'd had our fill of monkeys and monsoon rains we started our slog back up (and then down) to our waiting Rickshaw Wallah, who knew very well that we would need more than half an hour to explore the temple. That was just a ruse to be able to squeeze us for more money (he asked for an extra Rs100 but only got Rs20).

City Palace
We were dropped off at the heart of Jaipur's old city and throbbing heart. We ascended the Iswari Minar Warga Sal (Heaven Piercing Minaret) for 360 degree views of the old town to help us get our bearings and plan our route towards the City Palace. Noteworthy attractions in the City Palace are the giant silver urns (supposedly the largest silver objects in the world) that Maharaja Madho Singh II used to carry the waters of the Ganges with him to England, as well as the impressive Pitam Niwas Chowk courtyard, with its gates representing the four seasons. The palace of Jaipur was somewhat different to the other palaces we had visited in Rajasthan as it housed a Hindu monarch, however that is where the differences ended, and the boredom began to set it... There are only so many Maharaja palaces you can visit in a week and still show keen interest in the exhibits!
Once we had broken free of the City Palace we resumed our walking tour of Jaipur by visiting the Jantar Mantar, an observatory that was founded in the 18th Century (but has been recently restored). The complex looks more like an eccentric architect's back yard with its angular sculptures and structures. We opted not to hire a guide, thinking the signage would be enough, however the explanations left a lot to be desired, so the impressive abilities of these monoliths were quite lost on us. Ah well, next time we know to hire a guide!
Moving on through the old city we came to Sideroi Bazaar, a busy lane chocker with shops selling Rajasthani fabrics, instruments, handbags, Ali Baba pants, bangles, bracelets... anything a tourist could (or wouldn't) want as a reminder of their visit to the Pink CIty. On Sideroi Bazaar we caught a glimpse of the Hawa Mahal, an impressive five-story palace of sorts whose front is entirely covered in Purda Screens (yes, more Purda Screens!) so that the ladies of the rpyal court could observe the life and times of ordinary Rajasthanis. Sadly by the time we got to the Hawa Mahal it was closed for the evening, so we had to make due with a few photos from the outside. I will forever wonder what it must have felt like to be a lady of the Royal Court of Jaipur, looking down onto the commoners from behind my intricately carved Purda screens.

Trail blazing in Rajasthan

2011-08-10T14:22:00.008+02:00

UPDATE - photos of Jodhpur can be found on Picasa
Night(mare) bus
A year ago while travelling in Vietnam I wrote all about SEA night buses, and I'm pretty sure I promised myself never to undertake another journey by sleeper bus in Asia. Well, I have a habit of breaking promises I make to myself...
In India, cancelling a train ticket costs only Rs40 (€0.60), so plenty of people book tickets several days in a row, and cancel at the last minute. This makes it handy for travellers who book train tickets only a day or two in advance - your ticket will initially be wait-listed but a few hours before the train leaves you're guaranteed a place. Or so the guidebook says! Unfortunately our wait-listed train ticket between Bikaner and Jodphur didn't benefit from a cancellation, so we had to book a last minute sleeper bus to be on our way!
Well, when we stepped up into the bus I was pining for Vietnam's short-bunked buses. The Indian equivalent of a sleeper bus has glass panelled sleeping compartments and no air-conditioning. The compartments look just like a giant vivarium for humans, right down to the (broken) lightbulb and hard sleeping surface. Aaron and I were under the impression that we would have one cubicle each, but it turns out that the wider cubicles are actually made for two persons. The result: two adults, two backpacks, and two day bags squeezed into a glass cubicle as wide as a small single bed, with a window about 60cmx45cm for air. Not the best night's sleep I have had in a long time, but at least the driver wasn't listening to Hindi-pop at full volume all through the night.

Jodphur, the Blue City
Our night bus rattled us 300km all the way from Bikaner to Jodphur, so at around 5am we were to be found in a rickety Rickshaw put-putting our way to Discovery Guest House, a place we booked into on the recommendation of some Spanish backpackers we met in Bikaner. Our first order of business in the guest house was to arrange for a doctor's visit - Aaron was having trouble breathing and hadn't slept a wink all night. It took the doctor all of six hours to make his way to the guest house, by which time we had breakfasted, napped, and showered.
The doctor told Aaron he had a swollen oesophagus, gave him a couple of injections and about 600 different pills to be taken three times a day, and bade him stay away from beers, cola and spicy food for three days. With Aaron partially mended we could explore our surroundings, and our first port of call was the guest house terrace for a look at the city.
On the way up we couldn't help noticing the nicely decorated interior - all the surfaces featured paintings of Rajasthani scenes - camels, harems, palms and oases, and the odd maharaja here and there. Up the three floors, through the kitchen (very clean) and onto the roof, for a breathtaking view of Mehrangarh, Jodphur's hilltop fortress. This seemingly impregnable fort stands at the top of a steep hill, around which sprawls downtown Jodphur. The city is famous for its Brahmin blue houses - painted so because a) Blue is the colour of Brahma, the favoured Hindu deity of most of the locals, and b) this particular shade of blue apparently doesn't absorb so much of the sun's heat! Whatever, it makes for a beautiful scene!
The Blue city, with its busy narrow lanes, open sewers and minarets was another strong reminder of our proximity to Pakistan. The city streets are lined with merchants - it seemed to me that at least every other opening was carrying out a commercial activity of some sort or other, and just a couple of streets away from our guesthouse we found the throbbing heart of downtown Jodhpur - the market that radiates around the clocktower (not open for visitors :/ ).

Mehranghar, the impregnable fortress
Impregnable, or so it would seem, to a tired westerner approaching in a Piaggio Ape rickshaw from the narrow lanes of Jodphur, wondering whether or not the Vespa's big, three-wheeled brother can make it up the hill without hitting any cows, dogs, people, and random rocks adorning the road. But as it turns out, this mighty 15th century fortress changed ownership a few times over its long history. Most of the fort that stands today was built in the 17th century. Entry to the fort includes a very detailed audio guide that outlines much of the history and many interesting facts about the fort, and handily Wikipedia explains many of these, saving me plenty of typing!
I can't help but mention that the fort housed many more intricate purda screens, each one carved with an original design. There are even secret chambers in the hall of private audiences, where the leader's women could listen in on the proceedings and whisper subtle hints to their men!
After a good hour of informative rambling in the fort, courtesy of the audio tour, we were shepherded through the obligatory gift museum (very expensive!), and allowed to wander on the bastions to our heart's content. The views from Mehranghar are amazing, I don't blame the Rathore princes for putting their fort here... the view stretches for kilometers and kilometers, unobstructed by hills and trees (we were, after all, on the fringes of the Great Thar desert).
After we'd had our fill of fortifications we rolled downhill in a rickshaw and into the market, where we carried out a short recce of the neighbourhood, where we were promptly harassed by people selling everything from camera memory cards to silk scarves, from fruits to illegal drugs and prescription medication!
Needless to say we beat a hasty retreat to the rooftop restaurant at our guest house, where we enjoyed the cool breeze and a sky dotted with kites, both the feathered and the plastic variety. With the setting sun came a very slow meal ("Our food is made from the heart, and is all cooked fresh, that is why you have to wait almost an hour for your curry and chapati") and a few beers in the company of some fellow travellers from France, Argentina, Brazil, Korea and Japan. We were all set for a late night with beers, however at 11pm sharp the lights were turned off and we were asked to either sit quietly in the dark or go to bed. It seems that in Jodhpur establishments need to be shut by 11pm. We had no choice but to turn in for an early night, and arranged to take a rickshaw to the Maharaja's Palace at the other end of town the next morning with the French travellers, David and Celine.

Maharaja Opulence
In the 1930s Maharaja Umaid Singh decided to start a philanthropic, job creating project that would last 15 years and create over 3000 jobs: he would build himself a palace, but not because he needed a palace or anything, just so that he could give jobs to 3000 workers in a time of severe drought. How very thoughtful of Mr Singh!
One of the Maharaja's descendants still lives in part of the palace, however most of it has been turned into a very luxurious (and exclusive) hotel, and an area has been turned into a museum. The museum is the only area open to the public (unless you are willing to splurge for a meal at one of the hotel restaurants), where there's a series of photos documenting the interior of the palace, some design elements, as well as the various stages of construction. As one would expect, most of the museum is dedicated to the Maharaja Umaid Singh and his hobbies: polo, fine dining and a lavish lifestyle meeting foreign dignitaries.
Our appreciation of the various exhibits was somewhat hampered by the fact that there was no power at all during our visit, so we could only observe the photos by mobile phone light!

Back in town, we were dropped off at the clock tower, in the heart of the market. We were about to embark on our first serious shopping expedition in India! The market was pretty crowded, however the hawkers weren't as annoying or as persistent as we expected (or as we would later encounter in our travels). A firm "No, thank you" was enough to get the Jodphuri hawkers off our backs, and we eventually found a clothing / scarf / pouf outlet that we liked, so we settled in for some free Thums Up cola and a display of nearly all the wares in the shop. Deepak, the owner, treated us to a nice lecture about the lengths that wholesalers like the one we visited in Bikaner go to to fleece unsuspecting travellers out of their money. It is not true that pashmina scarves are made using just the goatee of a mountain goat - the whole chin and chest area are used, and that's why pashmina scarves can be had for about one fifth the price we were quoted in Bikaner!
With reasonable prices and a nice choice of goods, we were happy to part with a wad of our rupees in exchange for Ali Baba pants, pashmina scarves, wall hangings and cushions.

Laden with shopping, we headed back to our guest house for a rest before taking our night train to Jaipur, the state capital of Rajasthan.

Namaste, Rajasthan

2011-08-02T14:23:00.003+02:00

UPDATE - Photos from Bikaner can be found here
Our first experience with IndiaRail's night trains was an excellent one, so we literally bounced out of the carriage and into the desert heat of Bikaner, an important trade route town on the fringes of the Great Thar Desert.
Our main reason for being in Bikaner was to visit Deshnok, some 30km to the south of Bikaner, and home to Karni Mata, a notorious Hindu temple (more about it later).

Bikaner
My first impression of Bikaner was that I had somehow been smuggled to North Africa on my overnight train journey: Minarets dotting the horizon, cows wandering dusty avenues, and hardly any green to be seen. Our proximity to the Pakistani border was making itself felt!
At the station we were met by Bilal, a guest house owner who knew how to say a phrase or two in Italian, and spent all our stay repeating said two phrases! Bilal promised us a reasonably priced stay at his guest house, and even offered to take us on a tour of the old quarters of Bikaner, so we took the plunge and followed. The guest house was clean, the rooms air cooled (when the power was actually on) and the food nice, if a bit pricey. I guess the guest house makes up for the low rent with higher prices for the food.
Bilal lived up to his promise and took us riding pillion on his motorbike into the heart of Bikaner, where he showed us some amazing Havelis (traditional houses) with intricately carved facades, the inside of a very luxurious boutique hotel that was reminiscent of a palace, and to an historic Jain temple dating back to the 1600s.

The Dark Side of Bilal
As the sun was setting Bilal suggested we go for beers at "a place he knows, close to the Maharaja's palace"... little did we know that the "place" was actually his friend's warehouse fabric outlet. We were given a couple of cold beers and treated to a display of several hundred different pieces of fabric in various shapes and sizes. This man's family had been in the business of weaving for countless generations, since his ancestors crossed into Rajasthan from Persia. All of these, wouldn't you know it, are designs that their factory makes for big European designer names, but which he is willing to sell to us at cost price. The man even tried to get us to buy Shatoosh, that is, a (very expensive) shawl made from the hair of the Himalayan Antelope. He of course neglected to mention how illegal the sale of Shatoosh is! I think Aaron and I were both still suffering from jet lag and beer, as we foolishly parted with what we later found out were quite large chunks of money for items that could be purchased in any market. Ah well, you live, you learn!
This story was to repeat itself several times on our travels in India: whenever we have been suckered into a warehouse outlet, the artisans have had their skills handed down several generations, they use only organic dyes and materials, and their prices are higher because their stock is of a MUCH better quality than what you can get in the market. Oh, and the government of India will pay for the postage of anything you buy from their shop to your home country! Needless to say, our wallets stayed shut as tight as clams at low tide whenever we inadvertently set foot into any of these outlets after our first bad experience!

Regal Bikaner
Now to get back to the nice things about Bikaner - we also visited the old fort Juganarh, a feature of nearly every major town or city in India thanks to the country's warring history. With no high ground to build their fort on, the Mughals had no option but to build their defensive structure upwards, and the higher levels provided stunning views over Bikaner and the desert beyond it. Our admission ticket included a guided tour, though since the guide was trying to keep up with explanations in both Hindi and English, both these were a bit rushed, however the guide still found time to take pictures of us together at important points of the tour! We did gather however that some parts of the fort were adorned with tiles imported from Holland (to the delight of some Dutch travellers who were in our group). The interior of the fort is as lavish as one would expect from the mighty Mughals, with plenty of marble, coloured glass panels, and intricate floral murals finished in gold leaf. An interesting feature of the Juganarh fort (and many others in India) are the women's quarters. These are always overlooking the public areas of the fort, including the halls of judgement, and the Raja's council hall, courtyards and gardens... The windows have Purda panels built into them - these are intricately carved frames that allowed the women to observe the goings on of the outside world, without being seen by outsiders, thus maintaining their dignity (Purda).
We finished our visit to Juganarh with a refreshing drink of Thums Up Cola (yes, without the B) - a cola drink manufactured by Coca Cola in India that tastes like concentrated Coke. Just what you need to whisk away the desert heat!

Karni Mata - RATS!
OK, so the real reason Aaron and I were so hell bent on taking a big detour into Rajasthan, avoiding the much more popular Udaipur or Jaisalamer, and heading to Bikaner, was so that we could visit the legendary Karni Mata temple in Deshnok. Legends state that in the 14th century Karni Mata, an incarnation of Durga, interceded with Yama, the god of death, to return to life the son of a grieving storyteller. When he refused, she turned all storytellers into rats, and snatched away some of Yama's supply of human souls. Yep, you guessed it, the temple is crawling with rats. They are all over the place, and, if you're lucky, all over you too (being touched by a rat brings a blessing). You can try to spot a white rat for an extra dose of good Karma, and if you're feeling especially in need of blessings, share some food with the rats (and eat after they've nibbled on it!!). Thread lightly though, as if you crush any of the Kabas (holy rats) you must replace them with their weight in silver!
Our local bus (20Rs - Euro 0.32) dropped us off on the edge of Deshnok, and the friendly locals (all sitting under the blissful shade of trees) pointed us in the direction of the temple. One of the local retailers was so happy to see foreigners in his shop that he turned on the fans for us, and begged us to take a photo with him (which he is expecting to receive in the mail!). He even wanted a ball point pen... one of the stranger requests we've had while travelling, but were more than happy to oblige!
The Karni Mata temple isn't very impressive on the outside, a white building with your usual Hindu deity statues adorning the façade. But as you step barefooted over the treshold, and the rat droppings begin to crunch under your feet (or was it chicory seeds the rats hadn't eaten yet?), you realise this isn't just any other temple. The smell of mice and pigeons is a shock, but you quickly get over that when you see Mickey mouse's big brother staring at you from the wall. You look down, and a few of his friends are huddled in a corner sleeping. With every step you take, you notice more and more of the rats. Luckily they stick to the edges of the room, close to their milk bowls and food offerings.
I had heard about Karni Mata from GlobeTrekker (Pilot Guides in America) - the popular Travel Channel backpacker's program... but the place (and the rats) looked so much cleaner on TV! Aaron has a theory that the Delhi tourism office organises a clean up of the temple whenever a film crew is about to approach the temple, as whenever we've seen it on TV it has looked spotless... ah well, I don't want to make us out as clean freaks of anything: we didn't pay much attention to the crunchiness underfoot, and even got up close to the rats with our macro lenses. Plenty of photos will be going up onto picasa once I get back to Malta.

Our detour into the deserts of Rajasthan to visit Karni Mata was more than worth it, this is a unique place, and provides a real taste of India away from the tourists and the touts. If you're not squeamish about rats being adored and fed, then by all means, put Bikaner on your travel itinerary!

The good, the bad, and New Delhi

2011-07-25T10:11:00.003+02:00

UPDATE - photos of New Delhi to be found here
So here we are, stepping out into the sticky New Delhi night, breathing our first breath of fresh air in the subcontinent. Our prepaid taxi vouched says to head to stall 41, but immediately we're out the terminal we are surrounded by taxi drivers saying we should hop in with them, regardless of what our ticket says. Its only when they look closer at our ticket and realise we're heading to a small train station that they give up and let us on our way. Writing this blog a good week after my experience, I now know that the drivers stopped hassling us because there was no scope to earn some commission by dropping us off at a tiny train station!
But I digress - let's get back on track... our LPG powered Maruti zooms out of the airport and into the twilight, as the driver tries to expel a lung along with his bile. The dawn can't come too soon, as the highway leading into Delhi is lined with rickshaws with no lights, overloaded trucks with no lights, bicycles, pedestrians, and more cars with no lights. The general rule seems to be to drive without your lights on, and toot your horn as much as possible - most trucks, rickshaws and taxis have a handy "horn please" painted onto the back just to remind other drivers they should make their presence known!

Our destination was the tiny Sarai Rolla station, one of the minor Delhi transport hubs. It was quite a shock to the senses - people sleeping in the dirt, open sewers, heaps of trash, and hardly anyone who could speak English! It took us a few tries but we eventually figured out that there was no Left Luggage service at our station, so we decided to head to New Delhi Train Station - the one the guide book warned you about! Well, dear Lonely Planet, you didn't warn us enough!
I hate being so negative about anything, but everything that we did in our first 3/4 hours in Delhi that was connected with the Train Station was a horrible attempt at ripping us off, wasting our time or leading us on wild goose hunts.
Our e-ticket for the night's journey to Bikaner was listed as RAC - reservation against cancellation - meaning we could get onto the train, but might not be guaranteed individual sleeping berths (we might have to share one bed between two). Well, according to the very friendly and honest (sic) sharks at the train station, our ticket was not any good. We needed to get it confirmed at the "recently moved" Official Tourist Office. I protested that the office is actually in the station, and pointed out a sign that said as much; to which I was told "are you stupid? don't you know that since the Mumbai attack we have no offices in the station?" Well, it was very early in the day, and try as we might we couldn't find the official tourist office inside the station, so we humoured the tout and followed him to the "New, Official Office". As you can well imagine, it was a dud, and we were told our ticket was no good, we needed to forget about taking trains in Rajasthan, and should instead go for a minibus.
We left that office, and took a rickshaw (which another friendly local helped us arrange) to the OTHER real, bona fide, Travel agency suggested in the Lonely Planet guide book. Guess what... we were taken to three or four different offices, each one with the same name, but not matching the right address! When we asked to see business cards for the office (so we could compare phone numbers with our guide book) we were told "we are a big company, we don't need to prove to you that we are who we are. If you think we are not official, the door is open" .... well, you are the weakest tout. Goodbye!

After being bandied back and forth like so from 6am till about 9:30am, we sought refuge in a McD's (vegetarian food only!) for a hashbrown and coca cola breakfast. Our first few hours in the subcontinent weren't going so well, so we found a guest house in the guide book and sought refuge. Turns out this would have been the smart thing to do all along - the friendly staff at Ringo Guest house told us that our ticket was indeed valid, and we just needed to find our berth numbers when we got to the station, and that the New Delhi station is crawling with touts who know no limit to their duplicity and dishonesty!

Old Delhi-ghtful
Now that I've got the rant off my chest and have warned fellow travellers about the dangers of Delhi, let's move on to the little bit of sightseeing we did in India's capital.
After a few hours' kip and a shower our first stop was at the Red Fort, in the heart of Old Delhi. This decaying fortress dates back to the 17th Century, and it was built by the Mughal Shah Jahan (he of Taj Mahal fame). Built entirely of red sandstone, the bastions surrounding the fort make quite an impression as you're waiting in the queue to be allowed in.
It being a Sunday the locals were out in their hundreds, and they seemed to be quite as interested in snapping photos of the tourists as of the Red Fort itself. At first it was funny to Aaron and I, having locals walk up to you and asking to snap a picture with you, but when we had a queue of 5 or 6 guys, all with their mobiles at the ready, waiting to be photographed with us...
But let's get back to the Red Fort - I was still getting to grips with being in India and the ordeal with the touts in the morning, so I didn't quite absorb much information ... WikiPedia can be quite helpful in these situations though! The fort grounds made for a very pleasant stroll, and there were plenty of trees for us to take refuge from the sun.
After doing the rounds of the Red Fort we crossed over to Chowdi Chowk - Old Delhi's insane bazaar! I'm getting used to the chaos of Indian bazaars now, but on our first day in India we seemed to be getting a baptism of fire.

There were open sewers to the left, raucous monkeys to the right, and people asking for our custom all over the place! We just ducked our heads, clicked the camera, and made our way through to Jama Masjid, India's largest mosque. This behemoth of a building can hold up to 25,000 worshipers in its courtyard. Its another monument paid for by Shah Jahan, and when we visited it felt more like a playground that a place of prayer. Children were running allover the place, while the alcoves were taken over by families having a nap or a chat in the shade. Here we were again approached by people asking for us to pose in photos with them, and got the usual questions - country, name, job, nice to meet you, bye!

So Long, Delhi!
Still feeling the pinch of our flight into India, we retreated to Ringo guesthouse to freshen up and have a rest before our night train.
Back at Sarai Rolla station, we managed to find our names on the passenger list, and had a bit of a jog up and down the platform to find our compartment. We were expecting a pretty grim sight (3rd class, aircon), but were met with quite the opposite. Yes, the carriage was old (I would say 60s or 70s), but the bunks were spacious, the linen very clean, and the others sharing our compartment very friendly.
As the train rolled out of New Delhi I crept up into my top bunk (a bit cramped up there for someone who's six feet tall) and checked into dreamland, where I had a wonderful stay right up to an hour before we rolled into our destination: Bikaner, Rajasthan.

Passage to India

2011-07-21T05:02:00.004+02:00

Frugal travellers will go long ways to save some Euros on their travel tickets, and Aaron and I are no different... In order to get to India in the cheapest manner possible when we made our flight booking back in March we bought flights via Milan and Moscow, including a day's sightseeing in Milan.

Milano
I've been to Milan a few times in the past, and my impression of the city hasn't changed: it is a great place to go if you're keen on shopping for designer goods, good food and a bit of football. Its not quite my cup of tea, but I still managed to visit a site I had never been to on previous visits: Castello Sforzesco and its interesting museum. The castle and surrounding gardens are a great place to escape from the hustle and bustle of Italy's fashion capital, and on a Friday afternoon the museum waives entry fees! There's a nice collection of Renaissance paintings, sculpture and weaponry to be seen in the museum galleries, but the highlights are certainly the two masterpieces by Leonardo and Michelangelo. The former contributes a small painting that was previously thought to have been created by one of Leonardo's apprentices; while Michelangelo's work of art is an unfinished sculpture of the "Pieta".
After a healthy dose of culture in the castle we made for Piazza Duomo, and the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele and the Rinascente. These are Milan's prime shopping streets, and a great place for people watching. There's nothing quite like sitting on the steps of the Duomo cathedral watching the Milanese (and plenty of tourists) stroll by in the evening light, their long shadows criss crossing on the paving stones.

Bye bye Europe
Flying out to India was pretty uneventful... transiting through Moscow's Sheremetyevo airport isn't half as exciting as it sounds, and the Russian carrier Aeroflot has very high standards of service that make the flight smooth as silk.
The most exciting (sic) even of our flight to India must have been encountering an indoors smoking policy at the Russian airport... there are smoking stalls all over the airport for passengers to get their nicotine fix.

Its a good thing we had a smooth flight into India, as once we stepped out of Indira Ghandi Airport and into our Tourist Police approved taxi the chaos began!
Stay tuned to find out more!

Incredible ... INDIA!

2011-07-11T18:35:00.002+02:00

Namaste!
After a topsy turvy year in Malta (355 days to be precise) I'm packing my bags again... destination New Delhi.
I've been meaning to make the announcement on the blog but for the past four weeks I've been working on World War Z, the Brad Pitt zombie film that was shooting in Malta. Now that the first unit has wrapped and the second unit are on their final day of shooting, I can have a day off and make the final preparations for my trip to the subcontinent. I'm leaving this Thursday, 14 July, landing in India on Sunday.
Scrounging the internet for the cheapest flight possible got me this wonderful itinerary: Malta-Milan, a two day stopover, Milan-Moscow-Delhi (and the reverse on our return). Quite a roundabout way to get to India, I know, but the money saved on a more direct route (e.g. Malta-London-Delhi) I can definitely make it through two weeks in India.

In all probability there will be no photo updates while I am in India, as since I'm only spending 4 weeks away I'll leave the laptop at home, however I should be able to go online to give a trickle of information, pending the proper write ups from my trip when I return.
Till then, be safe!
Stevo

Same Same, but different

2010-07-19T12:11:00.004+02:00

Our entry to Thailand, the land of smiles, was achieved by a painless border process that took less than 20 minutes all told - we were dropped off at the bus station in Huay Say, from where a one minute túk túk ride took us to the eastern bank of the Mekong. We were stamped out of Laos, though it seemed that we were free to walk back into the country for a coffee before crossing the river into the Land of Smiles if we so wished. Across the water we were stamped in with no hassles and no fantasy stamp fees - and the border guard was kind enough to grant us three months in the country as opposed to the regulation 30 days!

Immediately we passed the border control we could tell we arrived in a different country - the lethargy of touts seemed to be blocked by the mighty waters of the Mekong, and our backpacks drew a crowd of men and women (and a few that left us wondering whether to refer to them as he or she) eager to arrange transport on to Chiang Mai for us.

As if to emphasize the difference and superiority of their state, Thais have made the sensible (?) decision to drive on the "right" side of the road, that is to say they drive like we do in Malta, on the LEFT side ;) I wonder how they deal with this situation when traffic crosses one of the bridges between Thailand and Laos! And while we're on the subject of traffic - what a change! No meandering mountain paths masquerading as roads in Thailand, but wide, well surfaced strips of tarmac rolling through rice fields with a backdrop of verdant mountains. Our first journey by road in Thailand was notable for its lack of near death experiences and blaring horns. It felt rather boring after the adrenaline pumping joyrides of the previous six weeks.

In Chiang Mai we got the shock of a lifetime, as walking the streets seeking accommodation we came across MacDonalds, Starbucks, Boots, 7Eleven and even Tesco, all within spitting distance of each other. Clearly we'd left the bare bones South East Asia behind us, and had wondered into a westernized version of the Orient. Even the coffee shops refused to serve us fresh coffee - Nescafe was their caffeine hit of choice. Seeking fresh coffee eventually turned out to be a recurring theme during our stay in Thailand… But I degrees, so I'll get back to laying down the facts about Chiang Mai.

Known as the northern capital of Thailand, Chiang Mai is pretty similar to Luang Prabang, yet worlds away from its sleepy Laotian counterpart. Yes, there are more Wats than there are 7Elevens, and it is the place to arrange your Hillside Minorities trek in Thailand, but the heart of it is different. Whereas Luang Prabang has the sleepy charm that defines a stay in Laos, Chiang Mai is a great primer for the commercial, fast forward hustle bustle that is Thailand. Chiang Mai is also the adrenaline capital of Thailand, its very own Queenstown if you will. And just like in its Kiwi cousin, activities in Chiang Mai are overpriced and seem a bit contrite. Having tried our hand at trekking in Laos just a day before arriving in Chiang Mai we weren't eager to join in the experience in Thailand. The Flight of the Gibbon, a series of zip-lines stretching through the treetops, seemed like a nice way to spend a day, but it came with a hefty price tag similar to what one would pay in NZ or Australia, so we gave that a miss. This left us with a couple of days to explore the many Wats that a sprinkled throughout the city, and plenty of money to spend in the night markets.

I won't go into the details of the many Buddhist temples we visited, I've done that many times already in this blog, and though the surface details may be different, the bare bones of a Wat are identical, whether you be in Cambodia, Laos or Thailand. The one temple that will get a mention has to be Wat Mahawan, or the Donald Duck Wat as I have now rechristened it. It gets this catchy and imaginative new monicker simply because among the many animal statues that adorn the front garden stands Donald Duck armed with chopsticks, slurping noodles from a bowl. Quite a shock to the senses when you're wandering the gardens trying to find your zen to be suddenly faced with Walt Disney's noisiest feathered creation!

Through our travels in SEA Wats have been a regular fixture in our itinerary, and though I was beginning to suffer from Wat Fatigue in Chiang Mai these Buddhist sanctuaries provided a welcome respite from the chaos on the streets with their shaded gardens and water features.

Watch out for Wat touts!

While visiting Wats in Chiang Mai we came across a new scam, or at least one which I haven't read about online or in guidebooks. As you enter the pagoda a Thai casually follows you in, says a prayer at the main altar and proceeds to sit to one side while you wander round taking photos. As you exit the Wat you are approached by the friendly Thai who welcomes you to Chiang Mai and asks what you plan on doing in the city, and your intentions when you leave. Upon hearing that you are headed to any place after a mandatory stop in Bangkok, you will be told that the place is very very busy at this time of year - as your (bad) luck would have it, you happen to be in Thailand when there are two consecutive long weekends, which means popular destinations will be chock-a-block. The accommodation at your destination will be sold out soon, so you should follow him to the TAT (Tourism Association Thailand) office which is just round the corner. When we said we would make arrangements in Bangkok we were assured that it would be cheaper to do so in Chiang Mai, and besides, by the time we got to Bangkok the accommodation in Koh Samet (our chosen destination) would be fully booked. Having nothing better to do, Justyna and I walked by the office which our friendly Thai had mentioned.

TAT have one office in every major city or tourist destination in Thailand. The office you are pointed to is merely a TAT licensed office. The wily travel agencies in Thailand advertise their TAT license by writing in two-foot high letters TAT across their front window. Under the giant TAT script, in much smaller text, you'll find "license number XXXXXXXX". Well, thanks to Lonely Planet I knew that the office we were pointed to wasn't the official TAT office, and it was packed to the rafters with people waiting for advice, so we walked away. As we were on our way our "friend" asked why we weren't in the office making arrangements, and we used the excuse of the long queues to make our getaway.

The same thing happened to us in two consecutive Wats, and on the third occasion I changed tack and said we would be meeting friends in Bangkok who have been living in Thailand for a long time, and they would be making our arrangements for us. This seemed to dishearten the tout and he let us be.

Well, I'm writing this blog in Koh Samet, and guess what? There's hardly a soul here! We found a room to suit our budget, and the only reason we had to spend 15 minutes looking around was that the first places we came across were charging twice what we were willing to pay. I've made enquiries with the staff here, and this is the shoulder season, plus there are no long weekends in July!

Clearly the friendly Thais who approached us in the Wats were scouts for the travel agencies keen on making some commission by misleading tourists. It doesn't make sense that booking accommodation from the other side of the country will be cheaper than booking it from a town much closer to the destination; and two consecutive long weekends is kind of hard to believe!

If you're approached with such friendly advice in Thailand make sure you double check with an unbiased source about the holiday periods - ask the staff at a café or at your guest house, and if you want to make a booking with TAT make sure you go to the address listed in your guide book, not any office with the words TAT emblazoned across its front window. Secondly, remember that the further you are from the item you're paying for, the more commission is going to be factored into the sum you pay. If it really is a busy period, brave the telephone and make a booking yourself, thereby bypassing the commission laden man in the middle.

Chiang Mai proved to be a nice introduction to Thailand - not as hectic as Bangkok, it allowed us to step our senses up a few notches from the sedate state we had attained in Laos. I cannot vouch for its suitability as a base for adrenaline pumping activities, but as a cultural stop on a tour of northern Thailand it hits the spot, with some interesting architecture and history, with the added benefit of never being too far from some of those home comforts that I'm beginning to crave for after 6 months on the road!

Luang Prabang

2010-07-15T12:26:00.007+02:00

Another epic 6 hour bus journey headed north out of Vientiane saw us disembarking in Luang Prabang, ancient capital of the Lao Kingdom. Luang Prabang is another SEA gem of a town that has been declared a UNESCO World Heritage site, and its not difficult to see why. Nestled at the confluence of the Mekong and the Nam Khan rivers, the old quarter of town occupies a hilly peninsula that is crowned with a spectacular Buddhist complex. The Old Quarter is a maze of interconnecting alleys and larger lanes interspersed with plenty of Wats and palaces. Added to this mix of royal and religious buildings are the signs of booming tourism - numerous cafés, travel agencies and guest houses.

We gave ourselves a couple of days to explore the various Wats around town and to visit the museum, though the latter was more of a display of royal regalia than anything else. The most dramatic complex of wats to be found in Luang Prabang has to be the trio that occupies Phu Si, the hill around which the Old Quarter is based. A series of steep staircases lead up to the temples nestled in the hillside and in cracks in the rocks. The climb is shaded by the thick tree cover, and once you reach the top the views over the Mekong and Nam Khan are incredible. Not to mention the innumerable golden Buddha statues that come in all possible stances.

At night the Old Quarter comes alive with the Hmong Market, where members of the eponymous hill tribe sell their handicrafts to the hordes of tourists. Though its nice to think that what you're buying is made locally in a tradition that has been handed down for generations, its not always so. Plenty of the wares on display were the same sort of items we had seen for sale at markets in Cambodia and Vietnam. What's even more of a shocker is that these same handbags and various items of clothing are to be found for sale in supposedly fair trade shops at more than five times the asking price in the market! The only consolation to be had is that when you're buying from the market you'll a) get a better price and b) all the money goes direct to the Hmong (or other minority retailer), rather than a middle man getting their cut.

When shopping at markets in SEA you should always haggle the price down - being a foreigner you'll automatically attract inflated prices. It amazes me though how some sellers try to take tourists for one heck of a swindle - many times I've brought the price down to less than half of the asking price, and I'm sure that the amount I'm paying is still a lot more than what a local would be asked for.

We noticed an interesting superstition when hawkers make their first sale of the evening - the sellers are desperate to make that first sale, and once they do they'll thank the customer for being their "lucky lucky first" and go on to rub the monies handed over on all their merchandise, in the hope that the luck of the first sale spreads to the rest of their stock. So here's a second tip for market shopping - if you're the "first customer" you can haggle your prices down that little bit extra; though you should keep in mind that an insignificant amount like $1 means a lot to people who earn less than $60 a month.

Meet the locals

Luang Prabang attracts plenty of tourism not only thanks to its idyllic location and historic old quarter - plenty of people stop in town to get ready for a hill tribe trek. The trekking scene here is not as over-saturated as it is in Thailand. The trekking trails aren't as busy, and the villagers you meet aren't as jaded from the flow of tourists. The kids still come running when they see a foreigner, the adults still giggle at our bumbling ways in the exhaustive heat.

Typical trekking trips run from one to three days visiting a number of minority villages along they way. The trek leader will be a local with intimate knowledge of the surroundings and groups are limited to a maximum of six persons.

We opted for a moderate two-day adventure culminating with an elephant trek in the jungle. Our friendly guide was a Hmong named Tuson (not sure about the spelling, but its pronounced as I wrote it here), and we were pleased to find out we'd have the guide all to ourselves. One of the advantages of traveling in the low season is that you're more likely to find yourself in small groups, or as in our case, on a private tour!

The trek started easily enough with some pleasant walking through rice fields and bush, with plenty of shade provided by the high trees lining the path. The first two hours of our trek were pretty uneventful but nonetheless entertaining - the scenery was stunning verdant hills and paddy fields, babbling brooks and the occasional rumble of a motorized tractor. We met some farmers along the way and our guide Tuson provided an interesting commentary about the farmer's daily life. A short while after our lunch break we came to our first Hmong Village, where we sat in the shade of some trees to rest our legs for a while and wait for the heat of the afternoon to lessen somewhat. Most of the villagers seemed to be doing much the same as we were - hiding in the shade while the sun scorched the earth. A few kids were playing with spinning tops and a lady was kenneling cobs of corn and occasionally throwing a handful to the piglets and chickens that hung around waiting for scraps.

Having done a considerable amount of trekking while on this trip we figured that eight hours of walking spread over two days would be easy fare for us… how mistaken we were! Its true that we'd spent whole days walking in New Zealand and Australia, but never in 33C with high humidity! We were doing reasonably well while the land was flat and the trees provided shade. Things started to get hairy shortly after we left the Hmong Village. It was time to begin the serious climbing, and there were no trees to provide shelter from the burning sun. About half way up the hill I was reduced to a sweaty, heaving mass concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, willing myself on. What struck me most about our ascent though was not how hard it was - it was that the steep hill was in fact a rice field. While I was complaining about simply having to walk up the hill, a Hmong farmer had to till it, plant his crop, and would eventually go up and down the hill harvesting rice. Its at times like these that you begin to appreciate the effort that goes into that bowl of fried rice you had the night before!

We eventually made our way to the Hmong village where we would be spending the night, and our first stop was at the "bamboo shower" as its called in the brochure. A natural rock spring has been channeled into a thick bamboo pole that acts like a tap, providing the villagers with water for cooking, drinking and bathing. As we arrived plenty of women were about the tap having their daily shower (fully clothed) and filling buckets, jerry cans and plastic bottles with water to be taken back to the village, a five minute walk away. The icy cold water was like manna from heaven to us exhausted walkers, never before have I so appreciated a cold shower in my life!

Up at the village we were shown into our quarters - a dormitory large enough for 20, but it would only be the three of us staying in there - and invited to take a look around. The village kids were running around playing all sorts of games; the most interesting of which seemed to be a variation of the classical game of marbles, but played with a single flip flop. From what I could gather the players nominate a point on the ground that they must then try to hit by flinging the lone thong at it. It seemed to entertain the kids to no end, and we were quite happy to sit there watching their carefully aimed shots. The adults of the village were carrying out cooking related chores - most were hidden away in their homes preparing dinner, or running to the little (and only) shop/hut of the village to get some supplies. Our host had a great pile of pineapples and she seemed to be doing brisk business selling them to neighbors - the next morning the pile was loaded onto a tractor to be taken to market. Just

before dinner was the only time we saw any other foreigners during our trek. We were expecting them to be joining us in our dormitory, but they quickly moved on to another part of the village to stay with another family. Tuson explained that this is done to spread the wealth from tourists over the village - a noble idea, and also adds to the intimacy of the experience by spreading the people.

With no electricity village activity is limited after sundown, and with most being employed in farming the day starts early. We were more than happy to head in for an early night as the day's walking had taken its toll on our tired legs.

We were up the next morning at cock's crow, and after a sumptuous omelette for breakfast we set off for the morning's walk. We decided that we would spend a shorter time walking on our second day, so instead of visiting a third minority village we headed straight for the sealed road where a van would be picking us up. The trekking was much easier this time - downhill, and the day still hadn't heated up when we set off. It took us just over an hour and a half to reach the road, from where we were punctually picked up and shipped off by road to the elephant camp.

At the elephant camp we were introduced to the two female elephants that are the backbone of the business and given some time to get to know the lumbering ladies. After we'd had our fill of elephant petting the mahout strapped a howdah to one of the elephant's backs and we were allowed to embark.

The howdah was a bare as bones wooden affair, and not a cushion in sight! Maybe the experience is a bit different if you're riding in a royal howdah, but perched as we were on our elephant I found it difficult to fathom how royalty have favored these pachyderms as their mode of transport for so many years. When the going is over flat ground its smooth enough, but in rough or inclined terrain you've got to hang on for dear life. Then when you are hanging on for dear life, you've got to remember to keep fingers clear of the edges or risk having them squeezed into trees! Our hour on the elephant seemed to drag on, and we were relieved to be let off for lunch back at the elephant camp.

I was quite looking forward to some interaction with the elephants, but this howdah experience wasn't quite what I imagined it would be… Maybe next time I'm in Laos I'll have a better budget, and instead of going for a hill tribes trek I'll take the Elephant Mahout camp, where you spend two whole days tending the elephants and learning basic commands.

After lunch we were dropped off at Luang Prabang, where we had a few hours to kill with some iced coffee before our overnight bus to the Thai border at Huay Xai.

For photos from our trip to Laos, click here

The Land of a Million Elephants

2010-07-14T10:18:00.005+02:00

Getting there...

In our travels through South East Asia the next port of call was to be Laos, the landlocked underdog of the region. Flying into the country was both beyond our budget and came with a certain risk (Laos Airlines has a very patchy safety record). That left us with the joyous prospect of a 24 hour bus trip from Ha Noi south to Vinh, then heading east to the border at Cam Neua and on to Vientiane, the Laotian capital. After two less than memorable experiences on sleeper buses Justyna and I decided to try our luck with the regular sort of bus, the one used by locals. The difference in price is substantial - $13 as opposed to $38 for a sleeper bus - and when we reached the bus terminus we could see why. The luggage hold was full of merchandise, and the passenger's luggage was shifted to the aisle. When the seats were full the driver pulled out some folding chairs to squeeze in a few more passengers, and some were even told to get comfortable on the luggage in the aisle. Still, we had our own two seats, and after some persuasive elbow maneuvers I convinced the Laotian sitting in the corridor next to me that I didn't enjoy the fact that he was using my shoulder as a pillow!

The going was easy enough - the sound system didn't seem to be working so we were spared the blaring karaoke music that had been a regular torture feature of our travels. This meant we got in a fair bit of sleep by the time we got to the Vietnam/Laos border at 5am, two-and-a-half hours before the countries opened for business!

When the sleeper bus full of backpackers pulled up we were quite pleased with our choice of transport - it seems that the bus was overbooked, so some people who had paid the full fare ended up sleeping on a mat in the aisle with the Vietnamese and Laotians who generally hop onto the bus along the way and put a bribe in the driver's pocket. Not to mention the usual hassles with karaoke music at all hours, cramped beds etc. Score one for the shoestring travelers!

Through Vietnamese customs, a dollar poorer for the unofficial stamping fee, we walked downhill to the Laotian immigration, where the going was much easier, and the stamping fee official! With all our papers in order the bus set off into the mountains, and what a ride it was!

The sleepiest capital

Despite being roughly the size of Great Britain, Laos remains to this day with a very small population of some 6 million inhabitants. This is largely due to the inaccessibility of the land - the mountains are everywhere, making getting to and from anywhere an arduous task. The average speed of travel for buses is between 20 and 30km/h because there are no long flat stretches. The roads are a succession of hairpin bends that wind their way up a hill and down the other side, only to start going up again at the next mountain. This of course makes for spectacular scenery in all weather. On our trip from Vietnam the sun was shining and the skies were blue, providing an amazing contrast of green jungles, grey cliff faces and powder blue skies. As we got nearer to our destination the monsoon clouds moved in, and the scenery transformed itself - black shapes looming out of the grey rain, flooded paddy fields disappearing into the distance, and the occasional motorbike speeding past the bus. The scenery rolling by my window and the lack of traffic made me wish I could get onto a touring bike to explore the country on two wheels - if ever there was a place made for two-wheeled, petrol powered exploration, Laos's gotta be it!

Eventually our bus rolled into Vientiane's bus station, but we were wondering if maybe the driver was a bit confused - there was no way that this sleepy bus station was the main transport hub of a South East Asian capital. No pushy taxi drivers harassing us for our business, nary a tùk-tùk in sight, just some pick-up trucks with benches in the back. Eventually one of the drivers realized that there were fares to be had and gingerly asked if we would like to get into town. The ride into Vientiane's bustling centre was much the same - it felt more like a ghost town than a city, what with the wide avenues of recently surfaced streets, traffic lights and landscaped traffic islands.

Further exploration of Vientiane once we had secured some lodgings revealed that the same sleepy attitude spread all over town… In the sea of chaos that is mainland South East Asia, Laos is a secure island of calm where you can retreat to recharge your batteries. Our stay being limited to just over a week we decided to stop in Vientiane for a couple of days to explore the capital before moving on to the northern jewel of Luang Prabang. To make getting around easier we rented a bicycle - following the SEA Games of 2009 prices in Vientiane have skyrocketed, with tùk-tùk drivers asking for more than 5 times the price quoted in our guidebook. The sparse traffic and relative flatness of the land which Vientiane lies on made our exploration easier.

There are several Buddhist Wats to be seen in the city of Sandalwood, though most of them are of recent construction as Vientiane has been sacked several times in its history. The Wats that we stopped by had a somewhat run-down feel to them, looking in desperate need of restoration.

After the temples circuit we retired to the Mekong riverfront for some tasty Lao food served by street restaurants - open kitchens that seem to be permanently set up on the banks of the Mekong looking across the water at Thailand. The Laotian government is currently beautifying the riverfront area so beyond the pavement it was one big construction zone. We didn't dare dart among the heavy machinery for a closer look at the country across the border, but the presence of diggers didn't seem to put the Laotians off their evening stroll by the water.

Housed in the former French Governor's residence is the Revolutionary Museum, the rather disappointing national museum of Laos. The building itself is in dire need of restoration, and the displays inside start out well but sadly peter out when things start to get interesting. The first section of the museum is dedicated to prehistoric finds in Laos - the dinosaur displays leave a little to be desired but the information boards in English do a good job making up for that. The section on ancient civilizations is probably the best in the museum, bar the small display on hill-tribes. This may be due to the fact that there's a lot of foreign aid when it comes to prehistoric archaeological finds. Up a flight of stairs and into the minority peoples section, where the Revolutionary Museum displays interesting artifacts relating to Hmong, Kho and Lao Lao minorities that inhabit the mountainous regions of Laos.

From here the museum's informative fountain runs dry - the rooms dedicated to the struggle for independence from French rule and the Secret War are all labelled in Laotian. For a nation that has the dubious record of being the most bombed per capita in the history of the world, the people of Laos seem to be doing little to bring their plight to the attention of the foreign visitor.

With the afternoon sun baking down on the capital, we headed for the so called morning market (even though it runs till 5pm) looking for a respite from the sun. Housed in a four story building housing stalls selling everything from custom made clothing to pirated DVDs and household appliances.

Vientiane is not a city that you visit for its bustling night life, nor for adrenaline pumping action… you visit Vientiane to amble aimlessly from one Wat to another, taking in saffron robed monks walking under matching umbrellas, to admire enterprising tùk-tùk drivers who fit their vehicles with a hammock, enabling them to nap comfortably anywhere. Laos' geographical position, sandwiched between the regional giants of Thailand and Vietnam, make it a great place to stop for a while to recharge your batteries, to take a deep breath and enjoy the fresh air before you head into the chaos that lies east and west beyond the mountains.

For pictures of Vientiane, head over to my Picasa Web Albums!

At the top end

2010-07-09T12:02:00.002+02:00

After a night of intermittent naps on the sleeper bus we were delivered into the hands of hungry guest house touts somewhere in central Ha Noi, from where we were driven (free of charge) to some of the properties the touts represented. Usually we don't take up the offers from the touts - the price will be inflated to compensate for the commission due - but on this occasion we got a reasonably priced, well furnished room right in the heart of Ha Noi's old quarter, with air conditioning to boot! Our first order of business in Vietnam's capital was to test the efficiency of the air con and the comfiness of the beds as we rested for a couple of hours to make up for the previous night's journey.

Once we'd rested and the afternoon rains subsided we hit the streets, searching for a taste of Vietnam's administrative capital. Walking along the side of the road (pavements are reserved for motorbike parking and shop displays) we wandered the myriad specialty streets: you can find anything you want in Hanoi, as long as you find the right street. Once you've found the toy alley, you are presented with a never-ending row of shops selling similar merchandise at variously fluctuating prices. Great if you're looking for just one thing in particular, but I can't image the amount of walking you'd have to do if you set out for a morning's shopping with a wide range of items to buy! The juxtaposition of street specialties is also a bit perplexing: you go from the haberdasheries to hardware, from restaurants and cafes to repair garages, and from beauty therapists to hat shops.

When you do find the right street, getting from one side to the other is a whole new experience. No where in S.E. Asia have we seen such an organized, free flowing, ordered chaos! There are no tricks to crossing the street, it doesn't matter than fifty odd motorbikes and cars are headed your way - just step off the pavement and into the flow. Walk straight ahead at a normal pace, and whatever you do, don't stop! Accidents seem to happen when people (read tourists) hesitate - if you keep walking, the bikers and cars flow around you as easily as fish in coral. I think there's no better way of describing being the pedestrian experience in Ha Noi than "Live Action Frogger".

The Old Quarter expands in a spider's web of diagonally connecting alleys with a great lake at its heart. This is where the action happens in the evening - expat joggers, courting Vietnamese couples, families out for an evening stroll, and plenty of traffic. The lake is home to Ngoc Son, or the Jade Mountain Temple, where one can see the embalmed remains of a giant turtle from the lake. There supposedly still are some giant turtles living in the lake, but the last documented sighting was in 2006.

Ha Noi is a good place to catch a Water Puppet performance in Vietnam - the Municipal Water Puppet Theatre has several shows each day at an affordable $2. The Water Puppetry stage is a large pond with a traditional Vietnamese orchestra to the right of the stage and a Pagoda as backdrop - the puppeteers hide in the pagoda. Puppets are mounted on wooden platforms either individually or in groups of up to 10 puppets. The puppets are controlled with a complex series of strings and sticks to recreate aspects of Vietnamese village life or to perform legends and dances. The show is presented entirely in Vietnamese, but the English program gives the titles of the various acts makes understanding the performance easier.

On our second day in Ha Noi we braved the public transport system to get to the Museum of Ethnology. Public buses in Ha Noi are very cheap ($0.16), air-conditioned, and efficient, but without a helping hand from an English-speaking Vietnamese its hard to get around. For starters, the listings are all in Vietnamese. Once you figure out which bus you must catch you have to keep your eyes on the busses rolling past the stop: the buses don't stop, they slow down to jogging pace. Once your has arrived, you have to run and join the jogging, jostling crowd trying to get on. We eventually got to our destination (a couple of blocks away from the bus stop) and ventured into the museum. It provides a very interesting and surprisingly detailed account of the various hill tribes that populate Vietnam, and we spent a good two hours soaking up the culture. The museum is well worth a visit, and braving the bus to get to it makes the visit feel like a great achievement.

From the museum we caught a tùk-tùk to the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum complex hoping to catch a glimpse of the embalmed remains of dear Uncle Ho. When we got there we discovered that the mausoleum is only open till 11am (we neglected to check the times in our guide book!); and to add insult to injury the museum and other exhibits had closed for lunch, and wouldn't open for another hour and a half! With a bruised morale we set off on the 3km slog back to central Ha Noi, passing many more specialty streets along the way, among them what seemed to be "garish evening gowns street"!

The task for the afternoon was to book ourselves onto a Ha Long Bay cruise. The word "task" hardly does the effort justice - ordeal comes closer to describing our actions! The Ha Long Bay boat trip market is over-saturated with bad businesses, impostors, sharks preying on unsuspecting tourists. Everyone is out to make big bucks from Vietnam's most beautiful natural features, often at the cost of the enjoyment of visitors. Our Lonely Planet guide book warned us to seek out reputable tour operators like Sinh Cafe - the problem with that was to identify the REAL Sinh Cafe, as one out of every two travel agencies in Ha Noi sports the Sinh Cafe logo! Apparently Vietnam has no laws governing copyright infringement and abusive naming of businesses. To add to our confusion, our guide book has misprints in the Ha Noi chapter - every business listed has the same address! We decided to shop around and ask various operators for their prices and details about their boat. All the travel desks we visited had the same trio of leaflets, offering three tiers of boat - standard, superior and luxury. The prices quoted ranged from $28 for the cheapest, to somewhere in the region of $250 for the top notch boat. Since we are traveling on a tight budget, our option was limited to either the cheapest, standard boat with standard room (just a fan), or a superior room on a standard boat (meaning the room had air-conditioning). Since we only had to spend one night on the boat we opted to save ourselves $14 between us and book the standard room/standard boat option. We'd read online that people opting for the cheapest cruise often come away disappointed, so we approached our trip knowing that the accommodation would not be great, but after all, you don't visit Ha Long Bay for the boats, you visit for the stunning scenery!

Ha Long Bay

I've seen many great sights during my travels this year, but when it comes to Ha Long Bay I feel that my humble blog will struggle to convey the sheer beauty of this natural landscape. The bay is dotted with some two thousand island-mountains covered in lush green forest and imposing cliffs. The islands range in size from tiny islets to the largest, Cat Ba Island, that has a town and several resorts as well as a national park! The lush green and grey karst islands are complemented by a turquoise green sea, and the sheer scale of the bay means that throwing your gaze in any direction will provide a vista of distant islands fading gradually into the haze.

Some of the islands are home to impressive caves, but the South East Asian style of cave decoration puts a touch of kitsch in the natural wonders. Whereas in Europe a similar natural wonder would be adorned with subdued, almost natural looking lights, here in Vietnam the caves get the reverse treatment. No holes are barred when it comes to colours and creative application. Pinks, purples, greens and blues are everywhere, and a dragon shaped rock even gets a suggestive pair of eyes to help those with a sluggish imagination. I guess this is one of the great joys of traveling - to experience new ways of seeing the world, no matter how far removed from "the norm".

Between islands, whole floating communities have developed. These communities used to be only interested in fishing, but with the advent of mass tourism in the '90s they have expanded their area of interest to make a living off the visiting hordes. The people inhabiting the floating villages generally spend all their life on the water - they are born on the water, attend a floating school, earn their living on the water, and die on the water. All the amenities of a land-fast town can be found on the waters of Ha Long Bay - bank, post office, school, grocery shop, bar, restaurant - you name it, they've got it!

Now that I've attempted to describe the beauty of Ha Long Bay, I'll move on to the reality of life on the standard boat, and issue a warning to all would be travelers!

Our trip cost us a grand total of $27, which isn't much considering this included two days and one night on the boat, four meals, transfers to and from Ha Long, as well as entrance fees for the bay itself, the caves, and an hour of canoeing.

Our group of 20 (on booking we were told there would be no more than 16, maybe 18 passengers on the boat) was left sitting by the side of the road for a good hour or so after we were dropped of in Ha Long Bay, waiting to be herded onto a boat. Once we got onto the boat we spent a good hour moored no more than 50m from the shores of Ha Long City while we were served an underwhelming lunch of muddy river fish and steamed rice, but like I said before, we'd only paid $27 so we knew the food would be just bearable.

A pleasant surprise came when we were shown to our quarters, as we were given a room with air-conditioning (though this would only be turned on after dinner), so if we had indeed paid those $7 extra they would just have been more commission for the travel agency!

As we got to talking to our fellow travelers it quickly emerged that we had paid the least for the tour, and in some cases by many miles. A middle aged Australian couple out to celebrate the lady's birthday had paid for a superior suite and boat, somewhere in the region of $70, only to be put onto the boat with the rest of us. Another couple of Aussie ladies must have paid much more than that - they didn't outright say how much they paid for their trip, but I think they had requested the deluxe boat. Even among the other backpackers we had come out with the sweetest deal - the other "young" passengers had paid somewhere in the mid $30s for their trip.

The frustrations didn't cease with the boat's operation and catering - we spent a good hour moored at the canoeing pontoon absorbing the scenery before we were allowed off, only to be told that there weren't enough paddles, and we would have to wait a further 40 minutes for canoeists from other boats to return. By the time everyone returned to the boat the sun was nearing the horizon, meaning we only had a few minutes for a quick dip in the cool waters, as no one is allowed to swim at night. If the crew had planned things better we could have got the swimming done before canoeing, instead of sitting around for two whole hours observing the same stretch of (admittedly stunning) scenery.

In the evening there was no sign of the promised squid fishing, but the crew did make a half-heated attempt at getting us to join in the karaoke. We were more interested in idle chatting with our fellow travelers, most of whom were headed to the south of Vietnam, having done the S.E. Asian loop in the opposite direction to us. The evening was spent trading helpful hints about prospective travel destinations and drinking beers. It seems that we needn't have worried about missing out on the karaoke - passengers from other boats told us that when they tried to join in they were told that the only videos at their disposal were in Vietnamese!

We eventually retired to our room where we discovered that the air-con was only working half-heartedly, but since we got it for "free" we didn't really mind. What did bother me was that I had to repeatedly go to the galley to ask the crew to turn down the volume of the TV - they were all sound asleep on chairs and tables with the volume turned all the way up, and after a few minutes they would crank the nob right back up. It took me three trips before they finally gave in and left the volume down. I have noticed that the Vietnamese have an amazing ability to fall asleep no matter what sort of cacophony is surrounding them, unfortunately our crew seemed to think that we shared their same ability!

In the morning we woke to a basic breakfast of bread and eggs - some of us were served stale bread that the crew begrudgingly replaced after repeated protests. I was quite looking forward to a morning spent sailing the waters of Ha Long Bay, admiring more of the innumerable islands that dot the bay, but this was not to be. We spent most of the morning moored in the same place where we spent the night. We were given the option of swimming, but no one dived in as one of the crew retreated from the ocean with a great jellyfish sting. When we did eventually set sail the boat kept to open waters, making for an uneventful sailing with the islands tantalizingly shrouded by haze, but not near enough for us to appreciate their beauty.

Here's the wall of shame moment: our (heap of) junk was the Ha Long Party Cruiser - ask for it by name at your Ha Noi travel agent, and say you don't want to go within a hundred yards of that boat!

I can't emphasize strongly enough that we set out expecting rudimentary hospitality which would be amply compensated for by the natural beauty of Ha Long Bay, yet all we caught was a tiny glimpse of the wonders it has to offer, even though we spent such a long time on the water. Had I paid any more money for the trip I would have gone away from the experience with bitter resentment towards the whole Vietnamese travel industry, as I'm sure some of our fellow passengers were feeling by the end of the day. As things stand I came away from the experience relieved that for once my tight budget was an advantage to me!

I can live with the bad food, the noisy TV at night, even the fact that we were again left waiting for an hour for our transfer back to Ha Noi when we disembarked. The thing that I disliked most about the experience was the fact that we spent more time in Ha Long harbour and at our night anchorage than exploring the bay. My advice to anyone considering a trip to Ha Long Bay is to carry out as much research as possible, stick with reputable travel agencies, and book your trip directly in Ha Noi - that way you can go back to the office at the end of the trip if you've had a sour experience. Writing a letter to the Vietnamese Tourism body (and copying your travel agent in on it) is also a good way of making sure renegades are made to toe the line.

A better way to experience Ha Long Bay, and one that I would have considered given more time, would be to go to Cat Ba island for a couple of days and arrange day trips from there. Not all travel agencies in Ha Noi are run by crooks, and not everyone is out to rip off the unwary traveler, but among the sheep there are many wolves out for a quick kill.

Not wanting to end my notes on Vietnam on a sour note, I'll impart some advice that worked wonders for me: when the rats in your room are clawing at the partitions, when you see the crew of 6 share the same amount of food you shared with 16 others, or when you're charged at an extortionate rate of exchange for the already overpriced drinks, take a deep breath or two. Count to ten, and get your heart beating normally again. Then look out the window. Take in the scenery. Remind yourself that you're in Ha Long Bay, one of the greatest natural wonders Vietnam has to offer. Don't let the shoddy service get in the way of your enjoyment of this gem mother nature has created.

Photos will soon be on my Picasa web album!

Tickling the Dragon's Belly

2010-07-05T06:44:00.002+02:00

If you look at a map of Vietnam, the country looks like a long dragon, with the Mekong Delta forming a curled tail, central Vietnam is the trunk of the body, and the mass of the north from Sapa to Ha Long Bay forms the head. From Da Lat we headed down to Nha Trang on the South China Sea to trace a path along the dragon's belly, stopping off at the major destinations of Hoi An and Hue. After sleepy Mui Ne with its never-ending strip of resorts it was a surprise to come into Nha Trang, a bustling city by the sea. It felt like what I imagine Surfer's Paradise would have been like in the 70s when the property boom was just picking up, with only a couple of skyscrapers lining the sea and plenty of people walking the streets.

We arrived in Nha Trang on Sunday afternoon, and the beach was chock-a-block with Vietnamese bathers, though they seemed to limit themselves to standing in the knee deep surf, so when I went in for a swim I had the deeper waters all to myself. The quality of the water was a great step up from that of Mui Ne, with nary a severed fish head in sight.
The following day we took a Four Islands boat trip with Mama Linh, which at a very affordable $6 included snorkeling, a floating bar experience, lunch, and a visit to four islands off the coast of Nha Trang. The only other foreigners on the boat besides us were a Dutch backpacker and an Aussie couple, and being outnumbered by Vietnamese tourists made for a nice experience, as we got to see what the locals do for entertainment, and all were very friendly. Its quite charming how foreigners become the centre of attention when they're outnumbered - everyone wants to know where you're from, what you're doing in the country, which place you like best etc. The question I love answering the most obviously regards where I'm from - no one seems to have ever heard of Malta, except for a couple of ardent football fans who'll have caught our mighty heroes playing one of the bigger nations on TV.
The first island we berthed at was the location for our snorkeling adventure, though to get to the coral reef we had to either pay $2 to ride 20 meters in a boat, or risk life and limb swimming through numerous party boats all jostling for a berth on the pontoon. Being on a tight budget we dived in and made our way through the hulking boats to the reef. I have to admit that I've only ever snorkeled over tropical coral at the Great Barrier Reef, so the reef of Mu Island was always going to be the underdog, but our experience wasn't much helped by the occasional plastic bottle or bag floating among the corals and giant clams. If Vietnam really wants to gain a place on the tourist trail then something needs to be done about cleanliness, and if you'll permit me I'll step on my soap box for a paragraph or two.
Its not just the sea that gets a bad treatment by the locals - go to any restaurant, and you'll see Vietnamese eaters chucking used napkins, empty beer cans, bits of chicken bone and cigarette butts under the table, ignoring completely the trashcan that sits at the corner of the table. The same applies to buses - things fly out the windows regularly, and people walking the street don't make much of an effort to hang onto their rubbish till they come to a bin. The only positive that we've noticed is that some people walk around collecting empty PET bottles and aluminum cans, presumably to cash them in at recycling centers. Just this morning we were sitting at a bus station and a young boy just threw his empty cup into a corner. If you don't catch them young, you'll never teach them! Vietnam (and the rest of S.E. Asia) please do something about your litter problem!
OK, backing down off the soap box!
After a very nice tropical lunch we were treated to a performance by Mama Linh's house band, self proclaimed to be the best boy band in the world! Well, they certainly get my vote for originality of instruments: their drum-kit was put together from old jerry cans, a paint bucket, and a copper plate. The boys went through a repertoire of some western songs and popular Vietnamese tunes before regaling us with national songs for the foreigners - though obviously they were quite stumped when I asked for a song from Malta! When the mandatory 45 minutes had expired after lunch we were allowed to jump into the sea for the floating bar - a glass of Da Lat wine with a slice of pineapple. The idea was very nice, but the sea had started to get a bit choppy, so our wine was a bit watered down by seawater!
Our final stop for the day was an island aquarium, and Justyna and I made the mistake of paying for admission - it was a heart wrenching experience, as besides the tropical fish (which are fine swimming in an aquarium) they had many sea turtles and giant fish such as grouper, moray eels and reef sharks in aquariums that were much too small and over crowded. If you are passing through Nha Trang and take a boat trip, take my advice and don't visit the aquarium. If enough people withhold their custom the party boats will get the message and change their itinerary!
From the aquarium island it was a short boat ride back to Nha Trang, where we had a little over an hour to find something to eat before catching a sleeper bus north to Hoi An.

Hoi An
Before we get to the details about Hoi An, I have to make an aside about the S.E. Asian Sleeping Bus. We'd seen these things advertised while in Cambodia, but our bus rides there were never long enough to warrant doing an overnight trip. The same cannot be said for Vietnam, as the leg between Nha Trang and Hoi An is a 600km, 12 hour marathon, and the leg between Hue and Hanoi covers more or less the same distance. The concept of a sleeping bus is pretty easy to grasp - replace the seats with reclining beds. Instead of wasting a whole day on a bus, commuters pass the night on a bus, therefore they waste no time at all, and arrive at their destination refreshed and ready to go. Simple enough, right? Well, in the execution things go terribly wrong. For starters, anyone of average Western height will have trouble fitting in the beds, for me, standing at over 188cm, its impossible. Same applies to anyone who's put on more than a couple of pounds round their waist. So if you're an average European you're going to have trouble fitting your seat comfortably. Then throw into the mix VERY LOUD Vietnamese karaoke music or stand up comedy (depending on the driver's mood), incessant hooting of the horn (at all hours), and Vietnamese people sleeping in the aisles and trying to get comfortable by putting their head on your pillow, or on your arm rest, or near your legs. Doesn't make for a very good night's sleep, but at least you save on $6-$10 accommodation!
And now, we start to talk about Hoi An, possibly the most charming town in Vietnam. This little gem of 19th century yellow houses, narrow lanes, tailors and lantern lit bridges is a Unesco world heritage site for its unique architecture. The town is very compact, and besides tourism, which is its main lifeline, there's a vibrant trade in custom made clothing and shoes. At the last count in the early noughties there were more than 200 tailors, to this day the number has more than doubled. This makes for a lot of competition between tailors, keeping prices reasonably low, especially when you consider that you're getting custom made clothing, prepared in 24 hours, to your exact specifications! Justyna was happy as a kid at Christmas hopping from one boutique to another choosing dresses, and all for under $15. I got myself a tailored shirt, and was thinking about getting custom made sneakers, but the prices they wanted weren't much lower than for an original pair of trainers so I declined.
If Hoi An is beautiful by day, its absolutely stunning by night. The myriad lantern makers flaunt their lighted wares in shop windows, and the city council seems to have taken a cue from them and lined the streets with colourful lanterns. This gives the yellow city a twinkle of colour that brings the night to life.

Just south of Hoi An we visited the ancient ruins of My Son, the best preserved ruins of the ancient Cham empire, one of the many great peoples to have populated Vietnam. Seeing the World Heritage listed ruins of My Son and knowing that they are the best preserved makes me wonder about the state of the rest of the Cham ruins throughout Vietnam - the place is in bad need of restoration, and the Vietnamese government is making slow steps towards bringing the ruins to their former glory with aid from foreign governments. The dilapidated state of the ruins is not only due to the ravages of time - The Viet Cong used My Son as operational headquarters during the American conflict; and the "liberators" thought nothing of bombing the historic location to drive the Viet Cong out. My impression of My Son was in no way helped by the fact that these temples are very similar to the temples of Angkor, and without informative displays I was left with feeling like I had visited a run down version of the Cambodian monument. Maybe My Son will be worth a visit in a few years' time, when the ruins are better restored and a proper visitor's centre or museum is in place, but as it stands, if you've seen the temples of Angkor a visit to My Son seems like a waste of time… maybe we should have left our culture vulture hats off for the day and visited China beach!

Hue
With three weeks in Vietnam and ten places to visit we weren't left with much freedom to dawdle, we had to be on a bus leaving Hanoi for Laos by the 30 June. After just two nights in beautiful Hoi An we had to leave the pretty little town to visit the former capital Hue.
Hue's biggest drawcard is its World Heritage Listed ancient Citadel and forbidden city. Hue was the seat of government from the 1802 to 1945 and the Citadel was the royal abode of the 13 emperors of the Nguyen dynasty. As with other culturally and historically important sites in Vietnam, Hue's citadel suffered massive damage during the American conflict. Its proximity to the DMZ coupled with its fortified nature made it an obvious choice as stronghold for the Viet Minh, drawing the incendiary wrath of the American war machine. Much of the citadel has been restored or is in the process of being restored: during our visit much of the Forbidden Purple City was a construction site. The areas that were open to visitors have been skillfully restored and some informative boards were on display. A video display outlined the ongoing repairs and showed a 3D model of what the citadel will look like once rebuilding and restoration is complete. I look forward to visiting again in a few year's time when the works are complete. Exploring the citadel on foot led us to lacunae of calm and quietude when we managed to get away from the masses of sellers and tourists.

The following day we took a Purple River Cruise - a cheap and cheerful $5 trip down the eponymous river visiting the nicer tombs of the Nguyen Dynasty, a Vietnamese Kung Fu display and the Thien Mu Pagoda.
The tombs are just what you'd expect the final resting place of an Asian emperor to look like - a cross between a pagoda and the best in Asian kitsch. Our visits seemed to be timed well enough to avoid big crowds, so we were free to wander in relative calm taking in the architecture and the artwork.
Thien Mu Pagoda is one of the most famous in Vietnam, and was the home of the venerable Thich Quang Duc, who publicly burned himself in Saigon to protest the repression of religious freedom and harsh measures of the government of South Vietnam. Thich Quang Duc had reached such a state of zen that after driving to Saigon he stepped from his car, sat in the lotus position, and covered in petrol set fire to himself. He did not utter a single word, didn't twitch, didn't react. He just sat there and burned, totally in control of his body. The back gardens of the Pagoda provide a shady respite from the crowds, as visitors seem to congregate towards the front of the complex where the Buddha shrines are located.
The highlight of our cruise was definitely the Vietnamese Kung Fu display. Though this martial art is not as "high" as Thai Chi or Chinese Kung Fu, it served the Vietnamese people well for nigh on a thousand years. Our guide explained that this was a true glimpse of the Vietnamese people - we could see as many pagodas and citadels as we wanted, but it was this fighting that made the Vietnamese who they are today. The country's tropical climate makes it a green and fertile land, an ideal shopping ground for the Chinese and Mongol empires of the north. Since Vietnam's population is so small compared to that of its northern neighbours, a fighting style developed that could be used by everyone, men, women and children, using weapons that could be found in the home - scythes, bamboo poles, and short knives. Were it not for the people's skill at repelling raids and attacks, nowadays Vietnam might be just another region of China.

Having seen the major attractions that Hue has to offer, we made our way to the pick up point for our second Sleeper bus in as many days: next stop, Hanoi!

The Sea, The Desert, The Mountain

2010-07-02T17:34:00.011+02:00

Mui Ne, a 6km strip of sandy beach and posh resorts lies an easy 200km out of Ho Chi Minh - under normal circumstances, the trip shouldn't take longer than three hours. Well, this is Vietnam, there's no such thing as normal! It took us SEVEN AND A HALF HOURS to travel: that's an average speed of less than 30km/h! The bus left on time, but no sooner had it made its way around Pham Ngu Lao (the backpacker district of HCMC) than it got stuck in a never-ending traffic jam. Not once in the 200km trip did we leave a city, our first long distance bus trip in Vietnam didn't bode well for the rest of our trip: where was the green and pleasant country side of this Dragon shaped country? We'd have to wait till our next trip to find out!

Anyways, after that marathon of a bus ride we pulled up outside the Saigon Cafe, which has some basic bungalows facing the sea for $7 a night - a bit pricey, but then again Mui Ne is a resort town, and with all the tourist influx prices go nowhere but up! After a very poor dinner of gelatinous fishy soup we made our way to bed with the aim of getting up early to make the most of our one day in Mui Ne.

Mui Ne is famous for its fish sauce, but its quite a smelly delicacy so we steered clear of it, instead opting to go to the Red and White sand dunes, where some photo trickery makes it look like we're standing in the Sahara desert ;) The Red Dunes were easy enough to find on our motorbike, but for the life of me I don't know how people manage to find the entrance to the White Sand Dunes and the Lotus Lake. We must have spent the better part of an hour driving up and down past the several kilometers of white dunes, and not once did we come across any signage pointing out an entrance to the dunes. When our patience got the better of us, we hid the bike in some bushes and set off exploring the dunes on the seaward side of the road, but we were weary of having our bike stolen, so we didn't go down to the blue waters for a much needed dip.

On our way back into Mui Ne we swung by one of the many fishing villages where we say a group of ladies busy cleaning cockles and scallops for sale, as well as many of the wicker fishing boats that the Vietnamese use for fishing close to shore.

Perhaps if we'd shown up earlier in the day the village would have been a hive of activity, but seeing we visited in the hottest part of the day, most people seemed intent on taking a nap in the shade rather than going about their fishy business.

We returned to Saigon Cafe after lunch hoping to cool off our burned thighs (suncream evaporates MUCH faster when you're riding a bike!) in the sea, but sadly the sea wasn't very clean - discarded bottles, bits of broken boats, fishing line, dead fish… not a very inviting stretch of ocean. Lucky for us there was a diversion on the beach: the staff of Saigon Cafe were harvesting coconuts to make fresh drinks, and we got to see a guy expertly shimmy up the tall trees to hack away at the ripe green fruit.

The Central Highlands

The following morning we caught our open tour bus to the Central Highlands city of Da Lat, and I can happily report that Vietnam is indeed a green and pleasant land. This leg of the journey was the complete opposite of our trip from Saigon to Mui Ne: not once did we drive through a village of more than a few hundred people, most of the way was through pristine countryside and hilly terrain with stepped fields and lush forest.

Da Lat is a very popular holiday spot for Vietnamese people, and we had the great fortune of arriving in town on the Friday of a long weekend. It was the first time in our S.E. Asian adventure that we had trouble finding a room for the right price, though our perseverance eventually netted us a nice room at our average of $7 a night :) Once we'd got rid of our bags we set off to explore Da Lat and plan out our two days in the area. There are a few attractions worth visiting in Da Lat proper, most notably the Crazy House. This is an architectural experiment by a local architect who attempts to marry architecture and nature. The result looks like one of Lewis Carol's opium induced adventures :)

From the Crazy House we took a short stroll to Bao Dai Summer residence - the summer palace of King Bao Dai, Vietnam's last monarch. Unlike other Royal residences that I've visited, Bao Dai seems rather plain and unassuming, with none of the pomp and grandeur of Western royal palaces. Were it not for the cheap admission price (about $0.50) it would have felt like a bit of a rip off… if you're in Da Lat, this is certainly not a "must see"! The next item on our agenda was to be a ride on the

Cremailliere, a cog railway that winds through the mountains to a Pagoda, but the rainy season intervened and stranded us for a good 40 minutes under a bus shelter, by which time we were too late to catch the train! We beat a hasty retreat back to our lodgings to dry off and prepare for the next day's adventure…

Easy Riders of Da Lat

There are several groups of bikers operating out of Da Lat calling themselves The Easy Riders - the originals have spawned many copy cats, but it seems from our and other traveler's experiences that the level of service from the "copy cats" is generally as good as the originals. Anyway, original or not, we arranged to spend the day touring the countryside around Da Lat on a couple of 250cc bikes, starting at a nicely timed 8am; though thanks to our Vietnamese neighbor we were up at 5am listening to Karaoke!

The day started with a visit to the "dragon pagoda" - so called because, you guessed it, the running theme is dragons! We were surprised by the number of worshippers around, but our guides said that this was due to the long weekend, once the kids would be back in school the pagoda would return to a state of calm. Once we'd taken a few photos and had a good look around we set off into the countryside, and oh what countryside! Stepped fields of an iridescent green lining steep hillsides, winding roads that twist up mountains, lush forests, and a clear blue sky. We couldn't have had better weather for spending a day out on a bike.

Our destination was a K'Ho minority village, but on the way there we stopped at a strawberry farm (the only place they grow in Vietnam besides Sapa). At the village we were shown around the church / school playground, and a skilled K'Ho girl worked the loom to show us how they weave fabrics. We were given the opportunity to buy some crafts directly from the creators, but in a reversal of the laws of economy the objects were actually much more expensive than if we were to buy them from the market in town!

Once the group of riders who arrived before us had left, we were shown into the village elder's hut. The sprightly 60 year old gave us an overview of K'Ho village life, and explained how he can speak a little English from his time in Nha Trang hospital with the GIs, but that his French is much better because that's what he learned in school! He proceeded to demonstrate some traditional instruments such as gongs (twelve different pitches depending on size), some guitar like contraptions as well as flutes made out of gourds. The final surprise was a taste of rice wine direct from the fermenting pot. No wonder the elder was so talkative! He takes a swig of wine with every visitor!

From the K'Ho village we drove on to a coffee plantation (three different coffee bushes - mocha, arabica and robusta) and a flower farm. It turns out that Vietnam has an ideal flower growing climate - its sunny year round and with a constant temperature - but till a few years ago no-one took advantage of this, as the cost of investing in a greenhouse was beyond the means of your average Vietnamese farmer. Nowadays though the use of greenhouses is spreading and farmers are moving up in the world, as greenhouses give the added security of an almost guaranteed crop.

Once we'd learned a little about the Vietnamese floricultural industry we rode on to a silk weaving factory. Silk worm cocoons are soaked in warm water to loosen the outer threads, then one of the factory workers skillfully scoops the loose ends and feeds them into the automated machine. This spins at great speeds to spool the individual silk fibre into silk thread. This being a factory, the thread is fed into an automated loom that weaves the silk into different patterns. Depending on the finished product, the silk can be dyed before or after the weaving. During our visit the looms were churning out white silk fabric. The thrifty Vietnamese let nothing go to waste, not even the silk worms inside the cocoons. After donating their silk for clothing, the worms are made into a tomato based stew that is very rich in protein!

A short ride from the silk factory led us to Elephant falls - so called because back in the days when Elephants were common in Vietnam locals would bring them here to bathe. The falls were a gushing torrent of muddy water due to the recent rainfall, so our guide advised us against standing under the torrent, which was a bit of a downer as I was looking forward to a fresh water shower! Close to the falls we found the Happy Buddha pagoda, home to a giant Buddha of the fat variety with a great big smile on his face.

After our visit to the pagoda the weather started to close in, so we donned our waterproofs in case the heavens decided to open up. In any case we had been really lucky with the weather so far, and the attractions we still had to visit were indoors.

On the homeward journey we stopped at a rice wine brewery where we sampled some of the South East Asian firewater (at an undiluted 65% proof!). The rice wine is made as any other hard alcohol around the world - boiled rice is fermented in a still and the distillate is collected and watered down for sale. The interesting thing about the rice wine making was the fuel - instead of burning wood, the still is heated using the by product of coffee farming: the dried husks of roasted coffee beans.

From the moon shine still it was a wonderful ride through the mountains back to Da Lat, where our luck with the weather proved its worth - the heavens opened up into a downpour only as we stepped off the bikes to get into our guest house!

Da Lat left me with mixed feelings - the city is quite kitchsy and there isn't much going on, unless your kind of thing is riding round a lake on a giant swan shaped pedal. On the other hand, the experience with the Easy Riders was by far the best excursion during our stay in Vietnam with an interesting mix of stunning scenery and unique culture with a touch of adrenaline. If you're going to Da Lat, do yourself a favor, and spend as much time as possible away from the city making the most of the countryside!

Lady Saigon

2010-07-02T05:29:00.006+02:00

Ho Chi Minh City, as it has been known since the American war ended in 1975, is the beating heart of Vietnam's future - miles away from the quiet towns and sleepy alleys of the Mekong Delta, this is a thriving metropolis. Bikes beyond counting jostle for space on the streets, trendy locals hop off Vespas sporting the latest in (knock-off) European fashion to sip iced coffee in countless trendy cafés. This is Vietnam's largest and most populous city, and its appeal is immediately apparent for those coming from the sleepy countryside.

Our exploration of Saigon took us on a trail of learning about the American War (the Vietnam conflict to you and me). No better place to learn about this most important chapter of the country's history than in the city that for so many years stood as the bastion of the imperialist oppressor. To that end we found ourselves walking through the rainy streets making our way to the Reunification Palace, formerly the residence of the South Vietnamese President. This palace has remained unchanged since April 1975 when Viet Minh tanks broke through the front gate, forcing the surrender of the Republic of Vietnam, thus leading to the reunification of the country. The gate has been restored to its former glory, and nowadays the palace serves as a showcase of Vietnamese architecture and an expose on the excesses of the "imperialist puppet government" while people starved on the streets and died in the jungle. Despite the heavily biased commentary, the guided tour provides an good insight into the workings of the palace and the finally days of the conflict.

From the Reunification Palace it was only a short walk to the War Remnants museum, and three story building dedicated to the suffering of the people of Vietnam during and after the conflict that started with the signing of the Geneva convention in 1954. The courtyard is home to several aircraft, tanks and bomb shells used by the Americans to suppress the freedom of the

Vietnamese people. Once inside the building the focus of the exhibits shifts from the hardware used to inflict damage to the damage itself. At the time of our visit the foyer was hosting an exhibition of photographs of victims of Agent Orange. This defoliant was used by the Americans to strip leaf cover and expose the Viet Cong and Viet Minh forces, but it also had the added side effect of severely affecting the health of those exposed to it and causing innumerable birth defects in subsequent generations. The truly horrific aspect of the exhibition though is that while American and Australian war veterans have been (partly) compensated for their afflictions as a result of exposure to Agent Orange, the American and international courts to this day reject claims filed by the Vietnamese government for compensation for its citizens.

Over the three floors the exhibits and photographs cover a range of subjects, with one gallery dedicated to the war

correspondents who lost their lives covering the war, and another hall containing messages of solidarity and images of anti-war protests from around the world.

We spent a good two hours wandering around the museum, and it serves as a real eye opener, balancing the rather one-sided information that we tend to receive in the West in relation to the Vietnam conflict.

Multi-cultural Saigon

Once we'd had our fill on information about the Vietnam Conflict we moved on to explore the various religious temples that can be found in this multi-cultural city - ranging from the catholic Notre Dame cathedral, to an Indian Mosque and a Maramman Hindu temple. We got our first taste of tourist traps in Vietnam while visiting the Maramman temple:

As we were about to enter through a side door a lady sitting by the main entrance called us over to go in through the main door, where she insisted on giving us some incense sticks. We refused, at which point she said "is ok, no money", so we took the sticks and went inside. As we stood around taking in the architecture and wondering what to do with the incense sticks a man came over and took the sticks off us, lit them and told us to put one in front of each shrine. Once we'd dispensed our incense to the various Hindu deities and taken a few photos we tried to leave the temple. The incense man came over and demanded 200,000 Dong, or about $10. Feigning ignorance, and indignant at trying to be scammed out of money, I pulled out a 2000 Dong note, at which point he said "no, no, 200,000!" When we refused to cough up, the incense lady came over and started pointing at a price list (written in Vietnamese) and demanding we pay. Anyway, to cut a long story short, we said we'd already put money into the collection box inside the temple, and anyway they had said the incense was free. At this point the price started to magically go down - first 100,000 Dong, then 50,000 Dong, but we'd already started to walk hurriedly away!

The lesson to be learned from this - don't accept anything from people standing around the entrance to temples, even when they say it's for free!

The Cu Chi Tunnels

About 50km north of Ho Chi Minh city, set in beautiful surrounds, lies the historically important complex of Cu Chi tunnels. This was the heart of the Viet Cong's resistance to the American invasion, and it proved to be a big thorn in the American's side. What originally started out as a series of tunnels for the villagers to shelter in during bombing soon expanded. Little by little villages started to connect together underground, and by the time the war ended the tunnels ran for more than 200km.

The ingenious Vietnamese didn't have any architectural plans when they built the tunnels - they just started digging at random, and eventually the tunnels would link up. What they lacked in technical expertise though was made up for with ingenuity: the tunnels had special ventilation systems hidden by false termite mounds, a smokeless kitchen, camouflaged tunnel entrances and even watertight compartments (for times when the Americans gassed the tunnels or tried to flood them out). When the GIs started to use dogs to sniff out the entrances to the tunnels the Viet Cong bought black market soap from the American base and would place clothes washed with the soap at the entrance - the sniffer dog recognizes a friendly smell and moves on.

Beyond the ingenuity and resourcefulness of the Vietnamese their sheer force of determination is staggering. When the Americans dispersed grasses that would choke rice paddies, they switched to eating tapioca. To make sandals they used old tires, and a pair of recycled sandals could last for up to five years. Unexploded bombs were dismantled and turned into home made land mines and grenades, whereas bomb shards were melted to make spikes for traps and tools. Learning about these things sheds a new light on why the Americans could never win the war: the Vietnamese are a people that won't take any crap, the harder that an oppressor punishes them, the less likely they are to give in.

The complex has two tunnels that are open to visitors - one which has been expanded to twice its original size and fitted with lights, and runs for about 100m; and a second, untouched tunnel, that goes for just 10m. Being the naturally curious type, I leapt at the opportunity to experience what it would have been like to be in the tunnels. Well, it wouldn't have been nice to spend more than 10 minutes underground. The tunnel is so low that I had to crawl along on hands and knees, it was pitch black (save for my puny phone torch), there were bats flying around, and all the corners looked the same. There's only one way out of the short tunnel, but I can see how easy it would be to get lost - the twists and turns threw my sense of direction off completely. The expanded tunnel, though more than twice its original size, still makes for a tight squeeze, and the mass of people walking through didn't make the experience any nicer! After having crawled through the tunnels I can begin to appreciate how and why it took the Vietnamese just over three days to cover some 10km of tunnel.

Our visit to the Cu Chi tunnels brought our experience of Ho Chi Minh city to a close, when we returned in the afternoon rains we had just an hour to find some food before we would be put onto a bus headed to Mui Ne, Saigon's favourite seaside resort.

For photos from Ho Chi Minh and Cu Chi hop over to Picasa

The Mekong Delta

2010-06-26T07:12:00.008+02:00

From Phnom Penh the budget traveler has two options to get into Vietnam - either taking a bus directly to Ho Chi Minh city, or a boat along the Mekong River to Chau Doc. Since we wanted to spend some time in the Mekong Delta we went for the boat option - we were told that slow boats were not running because the water level was too low, but the river seemed deep enough to us. More likely the slow boat option has been eliminated because the supposedly fast boat makes a bigger turnaround, though calling it "fast" is a bit of a misnomer - it took from 8am till 6pm to get to Chau Doc, just an hour less than if we had taken the slow boat!

The cruise along the Mekong is as picturesque as you would imagine - small fishermen's canoes, floating houses, and groups of kids waving from the banks, but seeing riverbanks and fishing boats for 5 hours tends to get a bit boring. We were afforded a nice little break from the monotony in the form of a Vietnamese customs check - or lack thereof! Our fixer took our passports and ushered us off the boat and onto the customs barge, where we were told to wait in a cafeteria / lounge. After some 20 minutes he returned with all our passports stamped, and we were in! We never even looked at a customs official, no sniffer dogs, nothing - somewhat surprising considering we were entering the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, but I guess it was also nice not to have our luggage eviscerated, or to be faced with the usual questions about what sort of country Malta is, if it even is an independent state etc.

Chau Doc

Eventually the boat made its way to Chau Doc and we were loaded onto a couple of Xyclos (like a tuktuk, but pulled by a bicycle) and taken to our chosen hotel, but only after the drivers attempted to drop us off at another guesthouse (presumably one that would have paid them commission). Out on the streets of Chau Doc we found a nice little hole-in-the-wall place that served an old Vietnamese favorite - Pho Bo, or beef noodle soup. This is a staple snack that is usually eaten at breakfast, but for us westerners it makes a nice meal at any time of the day, and at about $1 a bowl you can't argue with the price! With just three weeks to explore Vietnam our sightseeing in Chau Doc was limited to a visit to Sam Mountain. This large hill is the only break in the horizon for miles around and is home to dozens of pagodas and buddhist temples. After our experience in Cambodia, the Vietnamese pagodas were a bit of a shock. Not so much a place to find your Zen, they were more like a combination of market, kitsch factory and rock concert! Huge crowds were thronging through the Pagodas burning incense, chanting prayers, selling souvenirs, taking photos… One Pagoda that we visited even had a Communist Party meeting going in the forecourt!

The highlight of our visit was the decidedly more sedate cave Pagoda. The atmosphere here was much closer to the serenity and tranquility found in the temples of Cambodia. There were no thronging crowds, just a handful of worshippers, and we actually saw some Buddhist monks walking around getting ready for lunch. We still had to make our way through a path lined with hawkers to get to the temple, but they were much less pushy than the ones at the foot of the mountain.

Can Tho

In the afternoon we took a two hour mini-van from Chau Doc to Can Tho, one of the larger towns in the Mekong Delta. Once we'd dropped off our bags at the guest house we hit the streets to look for some dinner. As we stepped out of the hotel we were greeted by Paul, an American tourist who had been exploring the southern most part of Vietnam for a few weeks and hadn't seen any westerners since! We headed off together in search of what the Lonely Planet guidebook terms "restaurant alley", though when we eventually found the place it didn't have that many eateries along it! We settled on some more Pho for dinner and a few pastries from a baker's for dessert, and after that we turned in to get some sleep, as we would be getting up at 5am the following day for a trip to Cai Rang floating market.

Cai Rang is the biggest floating market in the Mekong Delta, and is quite close to Can Tho. We met up with Paul outside his guest house at 5:30am and made our way to the docks to find our boat and driver. The skipper spoke hardly any English, but he did understand the words beer and cigarettes. The going was quite slow, it took us about an hour to cover the 6km stretch of water to Cai Rang, but when we did eventually arrive we found a bustling confusion of boats awaiting us. Cai Rang is more of a wholesale market rather than one where villagers go to do their shopping, but it was interesting none the less. The sellers advertise their produce by hanging samples onto a bamboo flagpole on the stern of the boat. Some specialized in one particular product, for example Dragon Fruit, whereas others had a whole range of vegetables for sale. Mingling among these bigger boats were ones closer in size to our humble transport, floating kitchens and bars that kept the shoppers and retailers watered and fed. The growing number of tourists visiting the market also influences the presence of these vendors.

Once we'd done a circuit of the market we had a two hour boat ride back to Can Tho to look forward to, taking us through narrow canals and back lanes. There were plenty of distractions along the way in the form of floating or semi-floating houses, and kids playing in the warm (and dirty) waters of the canal.

You can see photos of Chau Doc and Can Tho on my picasa web albums

We made our way back into Can Tho at about 9:30am, and seeing as it was still early in the day we decided to take a midmorning nap before catching a bus to Vietnam's largest city - Ho Chi Minh, or Saigon as you and I will call it!

Time flies when you're doing nothing!

2010-06-12T12:34:00.002+02:00

The most famous seaside town in Cambodia has to be Sihanoukville, named after the Cambodian King and home to some wonderful white beaches and a relaxed vibe. This place is a cure all for the ills travelers suffer on the Cambodian roads, the bruises racked up while raiding tombs in Siem Reap and for the mind numbing brutality that is exhibited in Tuol Sleung and Cheung Ek.

We based ourselves in Serendipity Beach, a still developing part of town: the road leading to the beach is a mess, and much of it is lined by construction sites. The plus side to such a situation is that prices are still relatively low ($7 for a double room with fan and TV) and very close to the beach - we literally could roll out of bed and find ourselves on white sand! There isn't much to do in Sihanoukville besides laze on the beach, and that is exactly what we did for most of our stay. The beers are incredibly cheap (50c for a pint) and in the evenings the beachfront huts all offer a great sea food barbecue for just $3.

Our week at this beach side haven consisted of waking up late, walking to town for a light lunch, then hitting the beach for a swim in the warm tropical waters. This was followed by an afternoon of lazing in the sun, and not much else!

We diverted from our daily routine of sun-worshipping just once when we took a trip out to Ream National Park. Ream is one of the more recent national parks in Cambodia, having been established in 1993. It is home to a variety of animals, including sun bears, elephants, monkeys and tigers, as well as large numbers of birds. The river is also home to the rare Irawaddy dolphins; but on out trip all we saw were birds, and they provided quite a show. We saw three eagles catch an unweary sparrow in mid air, as well as several storks digging for mollusks in the mud. The most abundant wildlife we came across while riding down the river were locals - either fishing with nets or wading in the water for estuarine oysters.

That's pretty much it for Cambodia - we rode out the last few days till our Vietnamese visa became valid soaking up the sun in Sihanouk, before proceeding to Phnom Penh for one last night before taking a boat down the Mekong into Vietnam. Our visit to Cambodia allowed us to see the highlights of this rich and varied country, and if time weren't a limiting factor we would certainly have explored further, going off the beaten track to meet more of the friendly locals and see what the countryside has to offer… maybe next time!

Phnom Penh - Pearl of Asia

2010-06-12T12:26:00.007+02:00

Oh, Phnom Penh! Where do I begin!?! Might as well start from the beginning, with a warning to would be travelers in this part of the world: treat bus time tables as mere approximations! Our bus from Siem Reap to Phnom Penh was meant to depart at 8:30am, and that's when the courtesy bus came to pick us up from our guest house. On the courtesy bus with us were a couple of people from another guest house who were booked for a bus departing at 9am. After doing a circuit of Siem Reap, we went back to these people's guest house to pick up another couple of travelers who were booked on a bus leaving at 9:30! When we finally got to the bus station (9:25) we were shuffled onto the same bus, which eventually departed at about 9:45.

Once on the road, we quickly came to realize what the Lonely Planet guide books mean when they say that Asians rely on the horn as a method of defensive driving. A more appropriate description would be to say that drivers have a certain quota of horn use per minute that must be adhered to - I would say that it stands around 25 honks per minute. If there's a bike on the road, you honk so it gets out of the way. If there's a car coming the other way, you honk so it doesn't suddenly swerve into your lane. If the road is empty, you honk anyway, just in case there's a bike hidden in the trees just waiting to swerve out in front of you! Added to the incessant hooting of horns is the unnaturally loud Cambodian pop music, complete with lyrics for would be karaoke stars. Fortunately for everyone's eardrums it seems that Khmers don't aspire to karaoke stardom, as no-one was singing along to the music!

After about five hours of the best that Cambodian roads could throw at us we pulled up into Phnom Penh's night market area,

where we were instantly swimming in a sea of túk-túk and moto drivers offering to take us to great guest houses, or to the killing fields. An offer of a ride to the killing fields would become the running theme of our stay in Phnom Penh - its the most lucrative ride a driver can offer you, as it is the only 'attraction' that lies outside of town, so naturally its the one they're trying to sell. Once we'd settled into OK guesthouse (an OK place) we took to the streets to explore some markets where we got a bit of fresh fruit (rambattan, mago and lychee) and street food, though our plan for a cheap eat backfired, as we neglected to negotiate a price in advance for our food… not that we ended up paying an extortionate amount for our meal, but for the same money we could have had a sit down meal at the guest house. There are two sorts of market in Phnom Penh: those for locals and those for foreigners. In the former you'll find anything and everything: dried fish, herbs and spices, motorbike spares, clothing, barbers, tailors, beauty therapists etc etc, whereas tourist oriented markets tend to stick to textiles and souvenirs. Needless to say the local markets are much more interesting for a wandering photographer, though the smell of raw fish can be a bit daunting at first!

On our first sightseeing trip in Phnom Penh we walked to the National Museum. There isn't much to see here, and the information boards struggle to live up to their name, but one hopes that the rather pricey $3 entry fee will go towards improving the museum. An interesting exhibit displays the remains of a giant bronze statue of Shiva, said to have stood around 7m tall. This was discovered in a rice field in the 80s thanks to a paddy farmer who decided he should inform the French researchers about what lay buried in his field. Much of the museum is dedicated to exhibiting Angkor-era artifacts and carvings, but rather than displaying artifacts originating in Angkor Wat the museum strives to display pieces from all-over the country, thus showing the viewer that its not just Siem Reap that is home to fabulous temples. An ingenious ploy for expanding tourism to the rest of the country, if only the Cambodian authorities worked a bit harder on it! When its not dealing with the magnificent temples that dot the country the museum presents some relics from the Royal Palace next door.

Our visit to the National Museum left me thinking that the entry fee was inflated, but I was proved wrong when we visited the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda, where foreigners are expected to pay a whopping $6 to catch a glimpse of his royal highness's function room! As with many Cambodian attractions information is almost inexistent at the Royal Palace, and even the Lonely Planet guidebook doesn't say much about the place. The Royal Function room is all you'd expect from a room where the king throws his parties - plenty of gold leaf decor on intricately carved woodwork and lots of larger than life portraits of the top dude and his family.

The Silver Pagoda, so called because of its floor made of some 5000 silver tiles, is home to a Baccarat crystal Buddha that sits at the top of a platform in the middle of the room. Rivaling this emerald beauty is a life-size, 90kg solid gold Buddha encrusted with more than 2000 diamonds. Keeping these two precious deities company are hundreds, if not thousands, of other statues of Buddha, ranging in size from a few feet tall to ones that could fit on the tip of a finger, and all made of various precious and semiprecious metals.

After a near-overdose of Buddha statues we took a short stroll around the perimeter wall that depicts scenes from the literary epic the Ramayana, after which we visited some exhibition rooms housing various royal howdahs (elephant saddles) and a model of the royal cortege for the reinstatement of the King following the turbulent years of civil war.

During the years of the Democratic Republic of Kampuchea, 1975-79, the years when the Khmer Rouge took control of the country, Cambodia underwent a massive, horrible humanitarian disaster. Thousands fled from the violence in the countryside into Phnom Penh, where they thought they would be safe from the Khmer Rouge, but this changed when in April 1975 the Red Khmers marched into the city. In their quest to establish an agrarian society they forcefully transferred city dwellers to the countryside, but not before imprisoning anyone they deemed an intellectual. By intellectual they meant - anyone who spoke a foreign language, anyone with education beyond secondary school, people wearing glasses, land owners, teachers… the list goes on and on. The detainees were housed in what once was a secondary school, but later came to be known as Tuol Sleung S21 (S for Security Prison, 2 for the district, and 1 for Pol Pot, brother number 1). A visit to Tuol Sleung will make for a gloomy day, but it is disrespectful to the Cambodians to visit their country and not learn about the atrocities they suffered at the hands of their own brothers. The school boundary wall was redoubled with a corrugated iron fence topped with barbed wire; several classrooms were subdivided into dozens of cells no more than 80cm wide and 180cm long. Others had dividing walls torn down to create mass detention rooms, where twenty prisoners would lie next to each other shackled to the same metal rod. High ranking prisoners were "lucky" enough to get their own cell, but the only furniture they got was a metal bed. The balconies of the school buildings were fenced in with barbed wire - not to prevent prisoners escaping, but to stop them from jumping to their deaths, thus escaping the system. Not that many of the prisoners would end up anything but dead - at the height of its activity S21 was claiming as many as 100 deaths a day, and of the estimated 9000 people to go through Tuol Sleung only 7 survived by the time of the liberation in 1979.

Those who made it through processing at Tuol Sleung invariably ended up at the Killing Fields of Cheung Ek, a site with as many as 129 mass graves where they were blindfolded and murdered at the edge of mass graves. Some 17,000 bodies have been recovered, but without further digging it is hard to tell if there are more mass graves hidden in the area. The remains uncovered around Cheung Ek reveal that it wasn't only prisoners of S-21 that breathed their last in the area - one mass grave was found to contain over 160 headless corpses dressed in military uniforms, whereas a particularly knobbly tree bears the chilling notice "Tree used for beating children". It seems that in an effort to save on bullets the executioners would beat children to death against the tree, whereas adult prisoners would be bludgeoned to death with farm implements of have their throats slit.

The memorial at the Killing Fields of Cheung Ek serves a dual purpose - not only does act as a memorial for the thousands that perished here, but it bears witness to how low human beings can sink in their evil.

After the sobering day spent discovering the dark side of Cambodian history we felt that we needed some time to recover our senses, and so it was that we booked ourselves on an early bus to Sihanoukville, a beachside town overlooking the Gulf of Thailand.

For photos from Phnom Penh, visit my Picasa albums!

Tomb Raiding in Siem Reap

2010-06-08T06:04:00.006+02:00

Due to the dramatic turn of events in Thailand our plans for an island introduction to South East Asia had to be scrapped - with barely a week to make arrangements, we opted to start our adventure in Cambodia, the only mainland S.E. Asian country that has e-visa facilities. Modern Cambodia has only been open to travelers since 1993, when the bitter civil war between the Khmer Rouge and government forces came to an end, and though the tourism facilities are lagging behind those in neighboring countries, Cambodia is swiftly catching up.

Our first port of call in Cambodia was the north eastern city of Siem Reap, home of the World Heritage listed temples of Angkor. You've probably seen the temples in the first Tomb Raider movie, but it is only one temple that is in the run down state that Lara Croft invades. The temples were "discovered" by French explorers in the late 19th Century, and since then there has been on-off restoration work. Much of the earlier restorations did more harm than good though - the clearing of forest certainly had a positive effect, but repairs using modern materials actually made water seepage worse. To make matters worse, restoration work had to be abandoned in 1975 with the Khmer Rouge insurrection, and did not resume in earnest until the 1990s. Nowadays the restoration work is funded by various international governments, and the focus is on returning the temples to their original state and reversing harmful restorations from the past. An interesting point about the restorations is the old to new ratio - buildings will only be rebuilt if for every new brick used two old ones can be fitted in. This is done to maintain the original building materials. If the quantity of new material is too high the original blocks are put in storage or displayed in situ.

This new approach to restoration has certainly breathed a new lease of life for the temples, but it results in a somewhat unsightly mixture of building materials. Perhaps the effect will lessen somewhat with time when the newer materials are weathered by the effects of time. In any case, the temples provide a unique experience and an impressive site for the eyes…

The temples of Angkor constitute the largest religious building in the world, and the whole complex is spread over an area of many kilometers. Our preferred mode of transport was with the ubiquitous south east Asian Tuk-Tuk or moto rickshaw. For an average of $11 a day our driver took us to visit the various temples over three days.

Our first stop was at the mighty Ankor Wat, the largest and most impressive of the temples. It is surrounded by a mighty moat that makes European moats look like children's paddle pools. The complex is approached from a wide walkway to the east, but when we visited the morning sun was obscured by clouds, somewhat diminishing the majesty of the temple, but not altogether extinguishing its might. We were given two hours to explore, and that wasn't nearly enough! There's just so much ground to cover, so many carvings to admire, that we found ourselves pressed for time. The complex rises in tiers, and when you get to the central, highest level, you are faced with a steep, near vertical staircase that comes with a warning for people with weak hearts to think twice about climbing! Needless to say, the views from the top are breathtaking, giving a very nice perspective over the temple complex and providing a glimpse of temples in the distance. Unfortunately for us, the highlight of the temple carvings - The Churning of the Sea of Milk - was closed for restoration during our visit. This impressive mural runs along the whole Eastern Wall of the complex and depicts one of the central tales of Hindu mythology and depicts the epic battle between gods and demons that resulted in the creation of the elixir of life.

From our rushed visit to Angkor Wat we proceeded to some lesser temples on what is known as the "minor circuit" - the beauty of these temples is that they are skipped over by the coach parties, meaning we were almost alone in our meanderings around the temples of Banteay Kdei and Prasat Kravan.

From Prasat Kravan it was another short tuk-tuk ride to one of the most famous of the temples of Angkor - Ta Prohm - also known as the jungle temple, and home to many Hollywood blockbusters like Tomb Raider. This is the only temple that has not been cleared of jungle cover. The temple here is being restored gradually, but it seems that the authorities would like to leave the ambience of the temple "unspoiled" to give an idea of what it was like for the French explorers when they rediscovered the temples hidden in the jungle.

The climax of our first day exploring the Angkor Heritage Park was the city of Angkor Thom, an incredible walled square of 12km x 12km housing several temples, decorated terraces, a giant reclining Buddha and of course plenty of hawkers! By this time the cloud cover had cleared and the late afternoon sun was casting an enticing golden glow on the temples.

The most imposing of the temples inside Angkor Thom is Bayon, with its over 200 carved faces watching over visitors, said to be made in the likeness of King Jayavarman VII who built the temple. There are plenty of bas reliefs to rival the ones at Angkor Wat here, depicting scenes of rural Cambodian life in the 12th Century.

Onwards across the city we came to Baphuon, the temple that houses a 70m long reclining Buddha. The features of the Buddha are barely visible, but it must have been an impressive site back in the day, and I'm sure it will be once the restoration works are complete. This temple is one of the many victims of the Cambodian civil war: it was meticulously taken apart and catalogued by a team of French restorers who had to abandoned their work with the onset of war. All their records and notes were destroyed by the Khmer Rouge, leaving Baphuon as the world's largest jigsaw puzzle.

The highlight of our second day of temple exploration was the somewhat distant, but definitely rewarding temple of Banteay Srei. The temple is smaller than the other great temples of the complex, but what it lacks in size it makes up for in detail. Everywhere you look the sandstone is intricately carved and very well maintained. Hats off to the team of Swiss restorers, who not only have brought this temple back on its feet, but provide the most detailed information of any of the temples. If anyone from the Cambodian tourism authority is reading this - take note! The complex of Banteay Srei has an adjacent information centre with detailed and informative displays about everything to do with the temple - its discovery in the 19th Century, the early restoration and the more recent Swiss repairs, an interpretation of the carvings and plenty of history and background information.

Our third and final day in Siem Reap was dedicated to exploring the old market, Psar Chaa, and the temples of Raulos. The market houses everything you could possibly need - food stalls, clothing, souvenirs, fruit and vegetables, hardware, all the different bits and pieces of a motorbike (you could make a bike like a jigsaw puzzle here)… the list goes on and on! Beyond the market attractions in Siem Reap are minimal - there are a couple of Buddhist temples that can be visited, but the big drawcard here is obviously the temples of Angkor. Obviously a great way to kill time is to sit in one of the many bars and cafes that populate the city and just observe the traffic and the people while sipping an iced coffee or a delicious fruit smoothie - just the ticket for whiling away a hot afternoon!

Eating out in Cambodia is a fun affair - most places have menus in broken English (bleak coffee anyone?) and helpful staff who try to explain what's in a dish, though the explanation doesn't always match the finished article! Still, that's part of the charm of travel! Being one to try new things, I leaped at the chance to eat Frogs fried with lemongrass and basil. Top marks to the chef for that combination, the food was really tasty, even though there was hardly any meat on the frogs.

I still haven't racked up the courage to try that quintessential Cambodian snack - fried crickets - but there's still plenty of time for me to get a taste!

For more pictures from Siem Reap and the temples of Angkor, click here

Bye bye, Terra Australis!

2010-06-04T06:28:00.006+02:00

Coober Pedy

When we arrived in Australia Justyna and I were fishing for opinions from relations and friends about our undertaking in the outback - was it a crazy idea? was it worth doing? were there better ways to spend our time? - the range of answers we got was wide and varied. Some suggested that we should visit special doctors if we ever again seriously thought about undertaking such a drive, others wished us well. Some told us to only do half the trip, and take a flight the rest of the way. Others said we should have done all our trip in a car. The one common thread to their answers was that "beyond Uluru there's nothing to do". As you can imagine it was with a steely determination that we pulled out of Yulara with a full tank of petrol ready to take on "the great void" that exists between Uluru and Adelaide - more than 1,400km of open road still lay ahead of us!

Our next destination from Uluru was Coober Pedy, known as the Opal Capital of the World. In the land of superlatives, Coober Pedy must be the most superlative city of them all! It not only lies in the middle of nowhere, but it is surrounded in its immediate vicinity by a series of opal mining shafts for a radius of some 50km, and beyond that is the Woomera Forbidden Zone - an area where the Aussie military tries out its bombs! If that weren't enough, Coober Pedy is a town built in the middle of a desert!

As you are driving along the Stuart Highway you notice that even the sparse vegetation that there is begins to peter out into nothingness - all that we could see were very low bushes and lots of spinifex grasses. In the distance to the east we could see the Breakaway Ranges and the painted desert, but these were out of bounds for us in our rented van - the road to the painted desert is all dirt! When we got to within 50km of Coober Pedy a large sign greeted us warning that we should be cautious about walking backwards, especially when taking photos, because of the deep mine shafts. And that mining with explosives could be taking place. And that it is illegal to trespass on somebody's property, and we could face a A$1000 fine! That is if we hadn't already fallen into a mine shaft and been blasted to smithereens! Then we saw the hillocks - the flat landscape suddenly sprouted little mounds a couple of meters high, and strange trucks with a barrel on the end of a long pole dotted the landscape between the mounds. We were in Opal Mining country at last.

It all started some time around 1915 when a 15-year-old accompanying his father's gold prospecting party noticed a piece of Opal lying on the ground - he was Australia's first Opal fossicker and with his action cemented Coober Pedy in the history books. The first attempts at mining for Opal weren't very successful - early prospectors applied their knowledge of gold mining to Opal, but the minerals are very different and the miners had very little success. It was only after the Great War that opal mining in Coober Pedy began to bear fruit. The story goes that a couple of returning soldiers decided to go out into the desert to try their luck at Opal Mining, having built up a considerable knowledge of trench digging back in the old continent. They approached Opal Mining with a new and wily scheme - they went looking for rabbit holes - if the soil displaced by the bunnies bore traces of opal they would stake a claim and start digging!

Opal mining in Coober Pedy was a very difficult undertaking not just because of the task of mining itself, but also because of the harsh environmental conditions. The region gets less than 5cm of rain in a year, daytime temperatures regularly exceed 50C and the nights are freezing. If you didn't get scorched during the day, you were sure to get frozen at night. And if that didn't happen, you would die of thirst. The miners of Coober Pedy quickly realized that the best place to be was underground, where its a constant 22-25C summer and winter. Abandoned mines were expanded into houses called dugouts. Nowadays Coober

Pedy boasts an underground hotel, two underground churches (Roman Catholic and Serbian Orthodox), the world's only underground camping, plenty of underground motels, underground bookstores, underground art galleries… the list goes on and on!

I guess here is a good place to mention where the name Coober Pedy comes from - its an anglicized corruption of the Aboriginal name for the place - Coopa Piti - or White Man's hole in the ground!

We spent the night at Riba's Underground Camping, which is a few kilometers out of town. The friendly owners took us on a tour of an old Opal Mine (the first one on the site of their campground) and explained some of the ins and outs of Opal Mining. We even got to try our hand at using divining rods. For those of you who are wondering what divining rods are - sticks or metal rods held looses in your hands that will wobble or cross each other when you walk over underground water, a hole in a pipe, or a seam that may or may not bear opal. There's no scientific explanation for how they work - they

just do! The twelve people in our mine tour all tried their hand at the divining rods, and all got a positive result within a few meters of each other. The trouble with using divining rods to locate prospective Opal mines is twofold - firstly, the seam in the ground that you locate may not have any opal in it at all (Opal started life as a liquid form of silica that gathered over non-porous seams of rock in the ground); and secondly, if you do find Opal, there's no guarantee that it's of the precious kind! It is only a small percentage of Opal that has undergone the correct chemical and physical processes to turn it into gem quality material, the rest of the opal is commonly called Potch, or non-gemstone quality white opal for the boring, pedantically minded among us.

Once a seam has been located (using divining rods) the prospective miners read the surrounding ground and out of experience predict the direction of the seam. They then stake a claim with the mining department office in Coober Pedy, which gives them a right to dig anywhere in an area of 50m x 100m for the next six months. From there its a matter of throwing your hat onto your claim, and starting to dig where the hat lands. Opal Mining is really one great big gamble, but don't let the miners hear you say that… its a touchy subject! The hit and miss nature of Opal mining has meant that there are no big corporations out here - and there never will be. Most mining operations are owned by a single person or a group of friends, and deals to mine together are usually made over a beer and a handshake at the local pub.

Coober Pedy provides an opportunity for those in passing to try their hand at fossicking - sifting by hand through the topsoil looking for Opal! In a remote corner of town is Jeweller's Shop Road, a dirt track surrounded by mounds of crushed earth from the earlier mining days, and you can try your luck at finding things that the miners missed. While we were there we saw one local with a small pickaxe and a couple of plastic boxes - he looked like he plied the Jeweller's Shop Road opal fields on a regular basis. I did give fossicking a try but I didn't strike it lucky - all I got was a mildly shiny piece of porch and some interestingly patterned rocks.

Having exhausted the attractions provided by Coober Pedy we hit the road again, for home stretch - 700km to Adelaide!

I've uploaded all the photos from our trip to Australia on Picasa, click this link to see them!

Leaving Australia

The trip from Coober Pedy to Adelaide was uneventful - lots of open road with changing scenery that got greener as we neared Adelaide, but we didn't much care for that as we had a greater problem on our mind.

Justyna and I were meant to be flying to Thailand in a couple of days (the 25th of May to be precise) but the situation in the country was pretty bleak; the foreign office was advising against all but essential travel to the country, and most airlines were canceling their flights to Bangkok. This meant that our time in Adelaide was spent in the library trying to figure out where we could go!

Vietnam was out of the question because of Visa issues - there wasn't enough time to get a Visa and the country doesn't have a Visa on arrival program. This left us with Cambodia as the only viable option thanks to their e-Visa and a cheap flight with JetStar via Singapore.

This hectic planning pretty much took up our last few days in Australia, but luckily we didn't have plans for much sightseeing or activities - Adelaide (and Perth) are much like any other Australian state capital with some regional variations. Once we had our flights booked and visas confirmed we spent our last few days in Oz in hostels winding down and reading up about Cambodia and the temples of Angkor Wat - our first experience in South East Asia.

What, no photos?

2010-05-21T06:38:00.001+02:00

Update:

I've managed to upload my photos onto Picasa, but I'm still having trouble attaching photos to the blog posts.

Hi guys,

this is just a quick note about my recent postings. I haven't been able to upload any pictures either to Picasa or directly to the blog - I'm on a free connection at the Adelaide public library and it is dreadfully slow. The reason I don't pay for internet is that when I have done so here in Australia it has been just as bad as the free stuff, so I'm not bothering!

As soon as I get a decent connection I'll be updating the posts with photos and posting a link to the new Picasa web albums.

Till then, stay safe!

Uluru Katja Tjuta

2010-05-21T06:31:00.000+02:00

Uluru - Ayer's Rock… this giant monolith is synonymous with Australia, the spiritual heart of Aboriginal Australians, and for many the symbol that they most associate with Terra Australis. Getting to Uluru is quite a pilgrimage in itself - it is more than 450km from Alice Springs, the nearest city, and then Alice itself is pretty much in the middle of nowhere itself. This means that unless you are one with a jet-set lifestyle, you've come a long long way by sealed (or dirt) road to catch a glimpse of the world's largest monolith.

On the road to Uluru you gradually notice subtle shifts in the landscape. As you leave the hills of Alice Springs behind you the trees recede, the majority of the cover is low bushes, and eventually this in turn gives way to short spinifex grasses and bright red sand dunes.

On the horizon you see a large red shape looming, your heart skips a beat, and then you remember that it's not Uluru, but the other, oft forgotten monolith in this area - Mt Conner. Once you've seen Mt Conner the wait for Uluru is half over - just under 200km to go! After a good hour's driving along the Lasseter highway you finally see a shape on the horizon, and yes, that's it, the first glimpse of Uluru. Even in the harsh afternoon sun the rock stands out a bright orange against the horizon in the hazy blue distance. The rock slips in and out of sight as you're driving along (the highway is curvy to reduce driver boredom), until you come to a roadside rest stop surrounded by high sand dunes. A short run up the dune, a few snaps of a young military dragon, and there it is, Uluru in blazing glory, and looking larger than life.

After taking plenty of photos from this vantage point we hopped back into the van and headed for Yulara - the township cum resort that services Uluru Katja Tjuta National Park. Being in the middle of nowhere, prices aren't cheap, but not quite as extortionate as you would expect. Once we had located our camping berth we headed to what we were told was a sunset viewing spot from where we could see both Uluru and Katja Tjuta, but that was still more than 50km away!

As we passed the boom gates that mark the park borders Uluru stuck out, in all its humongous glory. The rock really looks like a hologram - its just so huge, and the colours in the evening light so startling - its as if the rock was placed there, rather than being a natural part of the landscape. I could immediately feel why all Aboriginal tribes of Australia place so much spiritual weight on this area.

A further four kilometers into the park we reached the Katja Tjuta turn off, and that was the last I saw of Uluru for a while. Katja Tjuta is a series of some 39 monoliths that are about as old as Uluru, but due to a different geological composition Katja Tjuta eroded into smaller, distorted shapes, whereas Uluru remained as one giant monolith. Along the long and winding road we spotted a herd of Australia's famous wild camels, and even though we were cutting it close, we stopped to take some photos of the shy dromedaries.

The further we drove, the less we could see of Uluru, and when we finally got to the sunset viewing area for Katja Tjuta, it was quite clear that we had been given the wrong directions! Still, the Katja Tjuta formations are impressive in the light of the setting sun. The rocks gently change colour from a bright orange to deeper and darker shades of red as the sun recedes into the horizon, until they are just a black mass in the distance. Once the darkness fell we made our way back to Yulara for an early night - we would have to be up before 6am to make it to the Uluru sunrise viewing area before the 7am sunrise!

My wish for a slightly cloudy sunrise over Uluru was granted - as we drove in to the park towards the sunrise viewing platforms it was clear that the view we would have of the rock would be fringed by some light cloud cover - perfect for photographs! We made our way to a suitable area where I set up my tripod, and then all I could do was wait and snap. At sunrise Uluru performs the reverse colour changes that we saw the previous night - the rock goes from a black mass on the horizon to a shining orange beacon as the sun rises. The viewing area we were standing on only opened in 2009 and afforded us a view of Katja Tjuta in the distance - with the added bonus that Katja Tjuta was changing colours before Uluru. The distance between the monuments and the difference in heights means that Katja Tjuta is "lit up" before Uluru. The clouds that made for such great photos had the undesired effect of shielding the sun as it rose, so the cold morning remained that way - Justyna and I retired back to the Batvan to catch a few more winks of sleep before exploring the base of Uluru.

The Mala carpark is also the point where "the climb" can be attempted. This is a very controversial issue - climbing Uluru is forbidden according to Aboriginal Tjukrupa (belief system, religion, moral laws - commonly called the Dreamtime): it is a path taken by creation beings in the Dreamtime. Walking on Uluru could be compared to climbing over the altar at St. Peter's, or standing on the sacred stone in Mecca. To add to the insult of walking over such a sacred place, there are no toilet facilities at the top of Uluru, so most people relieve themselves on the face of the rock. Can you imagine what would happen if someone were to pee on the Western Wall in Jerusalem?

The reason the walk remains open is thanks to Western tourism - when the park was handed back to the traditional owners in 1985 a clause was included that the climb should remain open to safeguard tourism, and the climb's status should be reviewed every ten years. Though people's opinion is shifting with education, and many decide to respect the Anangu's wish that the rock not be climbed; this doesn't stop 100,000 people from climbing the rock each year. The fate of the climb seems to have been sealed though, the last time that the status was reviewed it was decided that within the next ten years the climb will be closed. This is due to three reasons - respecting the Anangu beliefs; environmental protection and for safety. As many as 39 people have died on the rock, and many more have succumbed to heart attacks a day or two after undertaking the climb. The day we were at Uluru the climb was closed due to a "serious incident" but I don't know if that was an injury or a death.

Anyway, enough about the controversy surrounding the climb, Justyna and I were at the Mala carpark for a guided walk with one of the rangers who work in the Uluru Katja Tjuta NP. This is an interesting hour's walk that follows part of the Uluru base walk. The ranger explained various aspects of Anangu customs and creation stories - though he could only tell us certain snippets: Anangu Tjukrupa holds that stories can only be told in certain places, and then only by people who have been properly taught, thus ensuring that stories are not lost or distorted over time. Furthermore there are stories that are forbidden, stories for men, stories for women, and stories that are only known by elders.

After the guided walk we drove on to the visitor's centre to gain some more knowledge about the Uluru Katja Tjuta NP, the cultural beliefs of the Anangu and the work of the rangers to maintain the park.

Our visit to Uluru had drawn to a close - this was the peak of my visit to Australia, and I came away from it feeling a renewed awe at the immensity and splendor of the country.

From Uluru we had a long 700km drive to Coober Pedy, the opal mining capital of the world!

Tennant Creek to Alice Springs

2010-05-21T06:21:00.002+02:00

The Devil's Marbles

Heading further south along the Stuart Highway from the gold mining town of Tennant Creek we came to a rock formation known as the Devil's Marbles. These are a series of sandstone formations that are precariously balanced on top of each other. The white man's name for them comes from the fact that the rocks look like they've been thrown at random by some giant devil. On the other hand Aborigines call them XXXXXX and consider the area of great spiritual importance.

Alice Springs - the heart of Australia

The Alice, as locals call it, is the town that sprang up in a gap along the Macdonnel Ranges. It is hundreds of kilometers from everywhere, and lies almost slap bang in the middle of this great continent that is Australia. To the north its a 600km drive to Tennant Creek, whereas south its 700km to Coober Pedy. Besides having the Macdonnel ranges on its doorstep, Alice Springs is also the closest town to Uluru-Katja Tjuta, meaning that many tourists use her as a base to visit the rock.

While in Alice Springs we took the opportunity to go on a cultural Aboriginal experience. Our host was Con, who has been working with the local aborigines since the early 80s and has got to know their ways quite well. His talks were a good primer on Aboriginal marriage customs, beliefs relating to the "Dreamtime", problems relating to education etc. He told us about how most of the aborigines from the greater Alice Springs area still live in a traditional manner - out in the remote bush, sleeping on the land and living off it. Even though the Australian government supplies them with housing they eschew it, or sleep out on the porch under blankets, as that is what they have always known. The company that runs the tour we went on works hand in hand with the Aborigines to help the preservation of the culture.

An interesting segment of our tour was the "bushtucker" part - Con introduced us to various berries and grasses that the aborigines live off, things like bush plums, bush tomatoes, bush bananas, berries, seeds etc. We of course were given a taste of most of these foods, but the highlight of the bushtucker presentation was definitely the Witchety Grub. This critter is the larva stage of the Witchety moth, it spends most of its life living in the root system of the Witchety Bush which gives it its name. One of these grubs has as much protein as three t-bone steaks, and in 30 grubs you'll find as much sustenance as a whole cow! With some trepidation I volunteered to try the grub. After dangling the wriggling monster above my mouth for the Yankee tourists to grab a photo, I let go. The white skin is rather chewy, but the insides are runny, with the consistency of runny eggs, and the taste is very nutty and meaty. To me it was like a cross between eggs, walnuts and steak. In hindsight, the grub couldn't have tasted anything other than good - Aborigines have been eating Witchety grubs for thousands of years; I'm sure that if they tasted bad they wouldn't form part of their diet!

The final delicacy on offer to us was a traditionally cooked Kangaroo tail. The tail is wrapped in herbs and spices and buried with hot coals, where it is left to cook for an hour or so. The American coach party seemed emboldened by my adventure with the Witchety grub and everyone was eager to get a piece of the tail - Con said it was the first time that he had done the tour when everyone had a taste of it!

The final part of our tour was a boomerang session. Unlike their coastal relatives, inland Aborigines have no use for a returning boomerang. Their weapons are longer, heavy sticks that are tossed with the intention to maim the prey. As the hunting party is chasing their prey they will pick up boomerangs that they have thrown earlier to use again. On the other hand returning boomerangs are thrown over the water where they make a loud whistling noise, scaring waterfowl onto the shore, where hunters with spears lie waiting. The reason a boomerang needs to return is saltwater crocodiles - if the boomerang falls into the billabong, that's where it stays, you're not about to risk your life for a piece of wood! After a demonstration we were given the chance to throw a boomerang at a foam kangaroo called Skippy. Lucky for us we don't depend on our boomerang skills for food - Skippy survived another tour!

The West MacDonnel Ranges

The MacDonnel ranges spread east and west from Alice Springs, though in a 2WD vehicle like we've got its only the West MacDonnels that are accessible. The entire range is a comfortable day's drive out of Alice. There's plenty to see in the West MacDonnels, but they are truly appreciated on foot - the Larapinta trail is a 230km trek along the West MacDonnels. Our lightning visit to the outback didn't allow any time for long treks, but we did stop at the major attractions of the West MacDonnels.

The mountain ranges look amazing at both ends of the day in the golden light of sunrise and sunset. As we were driving along we could see one of the Aboriginal creation myths in the flesh - for the local tribes the West MacDonnels were created by an ancestor being in the form of a Witchety grub, and you can see the outline of a caterpillar along the ridges of the mountain range.

Driving through the MacDonnel ranges didn't do much good to my roadkill tally - flocks of budgerigars just love the tarmac, and I must own up to leaving a couple of clouds of green and blue feathers in my wake. The tally stands at 3 budgies, 2 Zebra Finches, and a few hundred thousand insects!

After another night in the MacDonnel Ranges we made an early start, stopping in Alice to brim the tank and buy some supplies for our trip to Uluru Katja Tjuta, the spiritual heart of Aboriginal Australia.

Plenty of photos from Alice Springs are now on my Picasa web album

Katherine to Mataranka

2010-05-21T06:09:00.003+02:00

The town of Katherine lies some 350km south of Darwin and is still well within the tropics. The town is subject to occasional flooding, and in the most recent high floods (2002) a saltwater crocodile made its home in the flooded isles of the local supermarket! There's not much going on in Katherine - the main reason people stop here is to visit the impressive Katherine Gorge in Nitmjiluk National Park 35km away. We only had an afternoon dedicated to exploring the town and it was quite sufficient. Most of the attractions had already closed their doors by the time we arrived in town from Kakadu, but we still managed to visit a few places.

We took a refreshing dip at the Katherine Hot Springs - they are supposedly at a constant 32C but they felt a little bit fresher than that when we were there. They certainly were cooler than the tepid Katherine air!

Once we'd been refreshed we paid a visit to the NT Rare Rocks gallery. This is an old gentleman's front room where he displays (and sells) rare rocks that he collects from - you guessed it - allover the Northern Territory. It sounds boring? Well, its not quite! There's a great variety of stones to be found in the NT, as well as precious gold, opal and silver. The stars of the display have to be the appropriately named Zebra Stones and Okapi Stones. These are very particular and apparently this type of rock combination can only be found in certain areas of the NT. The rocks get their name from the bands of white and brown that decorate the rocks. I'm glad we visited the rare rocks gallery as now I've got a unique souvenir to remind me of Katherine!

We made our way to Spring Vale homestead to spend the night. Springvale is an historic house that was one of the first homes in Katherine - it was the headquarters of the first cattle station opened in the area. It lies in a quiet location just out of town on the banks of the south Katherine River and there's even a freshwater billabong on the property that is home to a large number of freshwater turtles. The inquisitive turtles make their way to the bank expecting food when you stand close to the bank.

Nitmjiluk National Park

About 35km north east of Katherine you'll find Nitmjiluk NP - home to Katherine Gorge, the result of the Katherine River wearing out the soft sandstone over millennia. The best way to experience the gorge is from the water, and to that end we were planning on renting canoes for a day so as to be able to explore the gorges. Sadly this was not to be as the level of the river was still too high to allow private boats and canoes onto it - the only option was a very expensive organized boat tour. Instead of this we opted to take a 4km walk along the lip of the gorge leading to a very welcome waterhole. The walk climbs over an easy enough gradient to the plateau at the top of the gorge, where it winds along among some interesting rock formations before descending slightly to the waterhole. This is an amazing spot for a swim - a towering waterfall fills the deep pool (more than 2.5m deep) with cool, clear water. The pool is surrounded by high cliffs on three sides which makes for a shady rest area when you're out of the water.

Mataranka

From Katherine we made our way to Mataranka, some 100km further south along the Stuart Highway. While making our way through Ellersley National Park we came close to killing a wallaby … the animal must have been no more than 15cm from my front bumper. Our wildlife spotting was not to stop there - as we drew nearer to the campsite we caught a glimpse of a family of feral pigs, big hairy black beasts they were!

In the morning we made our way to a caravan park where we saw some Baramundi being hand-fed. Baramundi is a type of bream that inhabits the tropical north of Australia and is very sought after by sports fishermen for its game, and by hungry locals for the quality of its meat. The Baramundi lives happily in seawater and in freshwater, coming inland to breed. The fish is a hermaphrodite, starting its life as a male and gradually changing to a female as they age and grow - full grown Barras can be up to 180cm long and weigh in the region of 60kg!

Daly Waters

Some 150km south of Mataranka you'll come to a westerly turn off on the Stuart Highway labelled Daly Waters. This little roadhouse is home to what is known as Australia's remotest pub and oldest pub, running steadily since 1935. This little cult icon is a must-do stop on anyone's outback itinerary and most travelers leave a memento of their visit. The walls are lined with photos, ID cards, business cards, t-shirts, and bras! The whole "town" is littered with humorous signs such as "the world's most remote Traffic lights", a sign saying "Park at an angle - any angle mate!", and a rundown house with a helicopter crashed into it with the sign "for sale, ideal home, close to pub and services, own helicopter pad". After the mandatory photos had been taken and bladders emptied we hopped back into the Batvan for the rest of our 500km trip to Tennant Creek.

Tennant Creek

The drive along the Stuart Highway is incredible - not for its challenge as a drive - the road is mostly flat and slightly curvy - but for the amazing scenery. Clear blue skies, a distant horizon, rocky outcrops and eucalyptus trees as far as the eyes can see. As we neared Tennant Creek the landscape got gradually more hilly, giving the bored driver something to admire other than a distant horizon! In the early evening we eventually pulled up to the outskirts of Tennant Creek where we would be spending the night. As we drove through the hills we got to see another Aussie great - a herd of bush brumbies (wild horses). After watching a beautiful sunset we called in for an early night as we had another 600km trip ahead of us the next day - destination Alice Springs!

You can find photos from our adventure by clicking here

Litchfield to Kakadu - National Parks on Darwin's doorstep

2010-05-19T03:53:00.002+02:00

In Darwin we picked up a Wicked Campervan - an early '90s Mazda van with aircon that doesn't work, a steering wheel that lists to the left and Batman painted on the side! This mighty Batmobile was to be our mode of transport across the great Australian Outback, for a total of some 4,800km from Darwin in the top end to Adelaide in South Australia.

Litchfield National Park
We didn't have to drive very far to come to our first stop - 135km south west of Darwin lies Litchfield National Park, a small gem that often gets overlooked as people visit the larger and more popular Kakadu NP. The beauty of Litchfield lies in its small size - we visited the major attractions in a day and a half, and there isn't much driving to be done between stops. The areas that we didn't visit are only accessible by 4WD vehicle, and while we were there most of these were closed as the high waters of the wet season had not receded sufficiently.
Litchfield holds not only lots of natural wonders but is also highly significant to the local Aboriginal Australian Tribes. Most of the waterholes of the park are open for swimming, though certain areas are of such an important spiritual significance to the local tribes that access is forbidden. That being said, there are plenty of places for people to cool off and take a break from the heat of the day. The most popular place is Buley Rock hole, a series of cascades and rock pools of cool, clear water. While swimming in one of the rock pools we came face to face with a large goanna or monitor lizard. The creature seemed unfazed by the bathers in its waterhole, it just went on about its business basking in the sun, occasionally cocking its head to one side to pose for photos!
One of the most amazing sites in the park that doesn't involve water features are the termite mounds. There are several varieties of termite mound in Australia, but here in Litchfield National Park two very particular ones are found close together. These are the Cathedral mounds and the Magnetic mounds. The former can be more than two meters tall and are so called because of the buttresses and alcoves that look like they belong in a Gothic cathedral. On the other hand magnetic termite mounds make up for what they lack in size with ingenuity. All the mounds are aligned more or less along the north-south magnetic axis to maximise exposure to the sun. This gives the mound a more or less constant temperature - the termites move around to the warmer or cooler parts of the mound depending on the time of day. Scientists believe that the termites have the magnetic alignment genetically implanted in them - each alignment varies by a few degrees depending on location, and if the mound isn't perfectly aligned it will fail, thus ensuring that only the termites with the correct information in their genes survive.

Kakadu National Park
A further couple hundred kilometers away from Darwin is the mighty Kakadu National Park - this behemoth is world heritage listed both for its natural diversity as well as for its cultural significance. The park is steeped in rich Aboriginal history and there are several rock art sites that date back thousands of years. The sheer size of Kakadu is impressive - if you approach from the north entrance then you will drive for 200km before arriving to the first point of interest - in between is just highway and forest! Having visited Litchfield before Kakadu we approached the park from the southern Kakadu highway. This is where all the action is happening - the action that can be seen in a 2WD vehicle that is! As with Litchfield there's a lot in Kakadu that can be accessed only in a 4x4, and then that's only when the conditions permit. While we were in Kakadu most of the 4WD tracks were still closed for maintenance due to the recent rains. Unlike in Litchfield there wasn't any swimming to be done in Kakadu - saltwater crocodiles just love the waters of Kakadu!
The park lies on the edge of Arnhem Land - a special reserve that belongs to the traditional Aboriginal owners who have lived on this land for at least 30,000 years. Visiting Arnhem Land is not possible without a hard-to-obtain special permit, but at least you can catch a glimpse of the Arnhem escarpment from many of the lookouts in Kakadu, and at the rock art site called Nourlangie Rock you are just under 30km away.
For me the rock art was the most amazing aspect of our visit to Kakadu. For thousands of years this art was used by Aboriginal ancestors to teach laws, customs, behavior, tracking skills, hunting skills, spirituality etc. Aborigines had no written language till 1985 - before then, and till today, art is the way that they pass their knowledge down to the new generations. While it is taboo to alter a previous painting (it would disturb the spirit of the painting's creator), it is perfectly fine to paint a new story over an existing painting, or to refresh an older painting so that the story is not lost. This results in a mishmash of paintings at the rock art sites, stories blend into each other, and it is very difficult to date particular paintings precisely.
The Bowali visitors centre at the heart of the park provides an insight into the work of the rangers who manage the park. It is also one of the few places with air-conditioning in the whole park, and provides a welcome break from the baking tropical sun! About half-way along the Kakadu highway on the Yellow Water turnoff we found the Warradjan Cultural centre which provides detailed information about the customs and lifestyle of the Anangu who make their home in Kakadu.

Our visit to the park was very rushed, we visited the attractions in the same time that we spent in Litchfield, a park about a quarter of the size. That being said, it is very difficult to see Kakadu properly without undertaking one of the longer treks or having an off-road vehicle, and on our time schedule this was just not possible! We did get to see some wild life while driving along the highway - some wallabies crossed our path, a frilled lizard was sunbathing on the highway as we drove past, and we also caught sight of the elusive Jabiru (the only Australian stork) in one of the many waterways that criss-cross the highway.

For photos of Litchfield and Kakadu National Park click here

In our first three days with the van we'd covered 830km, less than a fifth into our expected total trip! From Kakadu it was on to Katherine...

Darwin - The Tropical Top End

2010-05-18T05:43:00.001+02:00

Our adventures up the east coast of Australia ended in Cairns, from where we boarded a flight to Darwin, capital of the Northern Territory and Australia's smallest state capital. Located in the far north of Australia, Darwin is graced with tropical weather - warm temperatures year round, and two seasons: wet and dry.

Our visited coincided with the early dry season - possibly the best time to visit the top end as the humidity is not as bad as during the wet, the rains have gone, yet the area is still alive from the past season's waters. As the dry season progresses the grasses die, waters recede and the landscape becomes very barren.

Darwin is certainly the most sedate Aussie city we've been in so far - there wasn't much going on even on a Saturday night on Labour Day (May Day) weekend! Besides the usual watering holes and souvenir tourist shops Darwin has a few Aboriginal art galleries to visit, but as usual prices are really high. A short walk from the town centre is the Darwin Museum that has plenty of interesting displays where you could easily while away a half day in the cool air-conditioning. The galleries range from Aboriginal culture from the surrounding lands, the flora and fauna of the tropical top end, the effects of WWII as well as a very detailed exhibition about Cyclone Tracy, a tropical storm that devastated Darwin in the 1960s.

During the dry season Mindil Beach is home to the Mindil Sunset Markets twice a week. A plethora of stores line the waterfront selling everything from cheap eats to skin remedies, didgeridoos to bull whips, and everything in between. Though there is plenty to keep the traveller occupied the real star of the show has got to be the setting sun. Mindil Beach faces into the west, giving a splendid view of the sun setting into the golden ocean. While we're talking about beaches I should mention that though the waters around Darwin are very inviting swimming isn't recommended - not only are you likely to come across deadly Box Jellyfish and Irukandji, but Saltwater Crocodiles have been known to frequent the area around Darwin! To compensate for the deadly creatures in the sea the Darwin council has created an artificial lagoon and wave pool at the other end of town.

Our final stop in Darwin was the Wicked Campers depot, where we picked up a van to take us on the road trip of a lifetime…

Cairns

2010-05-11T08:46:00.002+02:00

The second city of Queensland is Cairns, and it is to be found a long way away from everywhere else! The distance between Cairns and Brisbane is about twice the distance between Melbourne and Brisbane… that makes for a very long bus ride unless you're arriving from somewhere in between.

Cairns has a great tropical climate that induces an easygoing attitude in the locals and people passing through - you just want to relax under the coconut palms and look at the azure ocean, or sip a beer in one of the many bars that cater for thirsty travelers.

Having just two full days in Cairns meant we were on a very tight schedule and had to make an important decision before we got there - either dive on the Great Barrier Reef, or visit the rain forests of Cape Tribulation in the north. It wasn't easy to say no to visiting the Cape, but diving on the Great Barrier Reef is one of those things that you must do if you've got the opportunity, so the choice was obvious.

The outfit that we selected to take us out on the reef was Cairns Diving Centre, a small, independently run company that does great value for money day trips and longer live-aboard courses. On our trip there was one other person doing a trial dive, a handful of people getting their certification and a couple of snorkelers, with a head count of 19 in all with 7 staff - not bad when you consider how little we paid to b

e on the boat. The trial-dive master, Ethan, did a great job of introducing us to the basics of diving (we've already been on a trial dive in Malta, but its always nice to refresh your memory) and explaining what would be happening on the dive. The 90 minute ride out to the reef was a little choppy, but then again I didn't expect any less as we were traveling through very open water.

Once at our first dive site we were kitted up and hopped into the water with Ethan. The first order of business was to practice removing the regulator from our mouth and putting it back in, followed by removing water from our masks. Once we had proved our mettle with these simple tasks we could begin our descent. I was immediately impressed with the clarity of the water - we could see a good ten or twelve meters ahead, a very welcome change from our experience in the Whitsundays!

Once upon the actual reef we were met with a thunderstorm of rainbows - multicolored fish swimming here and there, colored coral, big fish, little fish, and all of them pretty oblivious to our presence! About half way into our dive we hit a double jackpot - we came across a family of clownfish living in an anemone - we had found Nemo! Immediately after spotting Nemo a white tipped reef shark swam by us and settled onto the bottom. The dive instructor directed us over the shark and it just stayed there with us hovering a couple of meters above it, before setting off to chase a large parrot fish. Ethan later told us that it was the first time he had seen a shark chasing a fish on the reef, usually they just sit in the sand waiting. Time underwater really flies by, and it felt like we had only just jumped in when we resurfaced after half an hour under the sea. Unfortunately Australian law dictates that on your first trial dive you cannot hold anything in your hands as you must link arms with your fellow divers, so there are no photos from our first deep sea adventure.

Back on board we were treated to a light lunch while the skipper took the vessel to our second site for the day, this time to a much shallower reef where we would be snorkeling. The reef was so shallow that it was hardly 6 inches below the surface in some places, and I've got a scratch on my knee to prove it! Swimming on the surface was definitely rougher than being down under the surface, but I thought that we saw a lot more from the surface than we did deep down - most of the coral life on the reef depends on daylight to survive, so the deeper you go the less there is to see. I thought that the amount of sea life we had seen during our dive could not be topped, but I was proved wrong! Clouds of small (3cm-6cm) fish could be seen hovering round the edges of the reef, schools of larger fish swimming a few meters below the surface, and plenty of monster sized fish darting among the coral. The palette of colours was reminiscent of an acid trip - fish that are half purple, half green, orange and red, blue and yellow, black and gold…

As you can tell I had a great time snorkeling and diving on the Great Barrier Reef, and I would say that it is a quintessential element of a trip to Australia!

You can find pictures of Cairns on my Picasa web album

Airlie Beach - Gateway to the Whitsundays

2010-05-11T08:42:00.003+02:00

Another popular stop on the east coast for backpackers is Airlie Beach, known as the gateway to the Whitsundays. Traditionally people go on a three day, two night sail around the islands, with prices ranging from the ultra budget to the top end. Unfortunately for us the boats at the budget end are "party boats" catering for very young travelers who want to get incredibly drunk for three days. Rather than pay great amounts of money we opted for a cheap boat transfer to one of the Whitsunday Islands where we would bush camp for two nights.
Airlie Beach feels like a tourist trap - plenty of hotels, motels and hostels line the esplanade, and in between you're spoilt for choice by souvenir shops and cafes and not much else. The hostels do battle for backpacker bucks with front of house bars, loud music and plenty of drinks promotions like free beer and pizza at 7pm :) Sadly the hostel we stayed in - Magnums - left a lot to be desired. We paid $24 each for a "deluxe 8 bed dorm" that smelt of damp and in which the air-con didn't work. Magnums do cater for campers though, so when we came back from our island adventure we opted for the campsite, which at $22 for both of us made a lot more sense, especially since the facilities for campers were much nicer than the en-suite bathroom of the "deluxe" dorms! If you're in Airlie and are considering Magnums, save money and pitch a tent. If you don't have a tent, then save your money and go for the larger, cheaper dorm - the deluxe dorms are not worth the extra expense!
The one winning feature of Airlie Beach, besides its proximity to the Whitsundays, is the beautiful artificial lagoon that graces the waterfront. Stingers like the box jellyfish and irukandji make swimming in the sea off Airlie Beach dangerous, so its nice to have a place to swim in sea-water while safe from these tentacled nasties. Enough about Airlie Beach though, the true star of this blog are the Whitsunday Islands!

Whitsunday Islands Paradise
I'm sure you've all heard of "the best job in the world", but in the off chance that you were living under a rock last year, here's a short recap - Tourism Queensland needed a "caretaker" for a tropical island - duties included swimming, feeding the fish, delivering mail to the resort, and writing a blog about the experience. The salary - A$75,000. The perks - living on said island, in a five bedroom villa, with all expenses cared for! The Whitsunay Islands are where the lucky bloke who won the selection process was posted.
The Whitsundays are a group of some 75 tropical islands, all of them protected as part of the Whitsundays Marine Park and the Great Barrier Reef protection area. The islands are very hilly - they are the tops of continental mountains that were flooded in the last ice-age. Some are deserted rocks just a few kilometers long, while others are enormous and have the full works, resort, town mall, resident population, even an airport. One thing the islands all have in common is their beauty!

Our chosen destination was Paddle Bay, on South Molle Island. South Molle is home to the Koala Adventure resort, so we at first thought our camp site might not be as secluded as we had hoped, but it turned out that the resort was partially closed - when we walked through there was no-one around except a cleaning lady. In fact South Molle was pretty isolated while we were there; I don't think we met more than 10 people, and none of them were staying at the campsite, they all came in on private boats to explore the island.
The camp site itself was in a very nice location at the northern tip of South Molle with coral beaches on both sides and a tidal causeway to Mid Molle Island. The campsite has plenty of trees and lots of long grass to set your tent up on, making for one of the softest beds we've had in our adventures in Australia. There were plenty of coconut trees around so Justyna and I got to try our hand at skinning and opening a fresh coconut. I can attest that it this really hard work, hats off to whoever invented the machine that takes the thick fibrous skin off coconuts so that we consumers get a small, hard nut in the shop that only needs a nick with a knife to release its treasures.
The Whitsunday Islands are famous for their snorkeling, in fact the group of islands is part of the Great Barrier Reef protection area, even though the reefs themselves don't form part of the same ecosystem. Unfortunately for us, the weather hasn't been kind to the Whitsundays of late - Cyclone Ului blew through about three weeks before we arrived, and it was followed by lots and lots of unseasonal rain. These factors combined to make the sea around the islands very murky - we could see no further than a meter when we tried to snorkel, so after cooling off in the water we decided to head back to dry land to explore the island.
Our meandering took us across to the southern end of the island to Sandy bay, though this is quite a misnomer as the beach is almost entirely made up of dead coral, just like Paddle Bay! On the way we didn't see any of the island's goannas, though we did catch sight of a retreating brown snake; and of course there were plenty of spider-webs along the side of the footpath. Creatures of the feathered variety were more visible on the island. Our campsite at Paddle Bay was home to a couple of spotted curlews - the pamphlets about Molle Island say that these birds can usually be heard but are rarely seen because of their great camouflage. Many a time we would be walking towards the picnic table or the toilets and we would hear a sound like a kettle whistle - closer inspection of the immediate surroundings revealed the curlews hiding in plain sight. The birds stand stock still when you approach, and they blend in very well to the undergrowth that they live in.

I cannot say whether our experience of the Whitsunday Islands was any better than that of people who opted for a sailing trip - they certainly got to see more of the islands than we did. I can confirm though that if you opt to camp in the Whitsundays you won't have many people to compare notes with, this is an unexploited option that not many people know about. Waking up on a tropical island that is practically yours is a great experience and provides a nice break from the masses that throng the east coast.

Plenty of photos can be found in the usual place!

Hervey Bay and Fraser Island

2010-05-02T06:17:00.009+02:00

Hervey Bay is a quiet seaside town about seven hours north of Brisbane in a bus. There isn't much going on here, but the backpackers keep flowing in as Hervey Bay is where most Fraser Island tour operators are based. In the photo to the left you can see me attempting to coax a green parrot onto my hand - that's about the most exciting thing that happened on the mainland!

Fraser Island is a spit of sand just off the west coast of Queensland, though calling it a spit of sand hardly does the place justice - it is the world's largest sand island, stretching a whole 125km from north to south and about 20km at its widest point. The island is covered in rainforest, mangroves, sand blows and freshwater lakes. Plenty of animals make their home here, including Dingos (the purest strain left in Australia), goannas, plenty of birds, as well as the usually Aussie plethora of snakes and spiders. Off the west coast of Fraser Island it is not uncommon to find Estuarine Crocodiles (the saltwater variety) and the east coast is a tiger shark nursing ground. Besides the wildlife there are a few human settlements - very expensive holiday resorts mostly - but the island is largely unspoiled and untouched by human modifications. The only sealed road is to be found at the holiday resort of Eurong Beach, the rest of the island's roads are sand tracks, with the main thoroughfare being the west coast's 75 Mile Beach.

The reason so many backpackers visit Fraser Island is the self-drive, three day tour. Basically, you hand over about A$300 of your hard earned money and the hostel/tour operator gives you and seven strangers the keys to a bright pink Land Cruiser packed with camping gear and food, permits for camping on Fraser Island and tickets for the barge that plies the half hour crossing from the mainland. You're then free to explore Fraser Island - within limits. Certain less travelled tracks are off limits as the likelihood of getting stuck in fast are high, whereas the far northern and southern reaches of the island are deemed "not interesting" and hence are off limits too. Another no-no is driving in salt-water, which provides the drivers of the 4x4 quite a challenge! When you're driving along the beach you need to keep as close to the waterline as possible, as this is where the sand is firm, but its also in the direct path of the surf.

If you pull away from the water too much, you get into the soft sand, the truck starts to wobble, and you slow down to an ungainly 20km/h (the speed limit on the beach is 80km/h). Add to this hidden rocks, freshwater washouts that make the speed bumps and potholes of Maltese roads look insignificant, and plenty of pedestrians walking around on the sand, and driving on Fraser makes for quite a baptism of fire for the novice 4x4 driver!

Day 1:
The first day of our Fraser Island adventure started with a quick briefing on sand driving and general know-how about our Land Cruiser - how to engage the 4WD, what to do if we get bogged in, general niggles etc. By 9am we were on our way to the

supermarket to buy food for three days, and Dominic, the only other guy in our group of travelers, took the driver's seat. His first reaction was "its handles like a Panzer" - the vehicle is BIG, and the clutch is either IN or OUT - you don't feather the clutch, just chuck the gear in and mash the gas pedal into the carpet, and you're off!With the shopping done we had to make our way some 20km out of Hervey Bay to the barge at River Heads, and I was given the task of driving to and onto the barge. My German companion Dominic was right, it does feel like you're driving a tank! And that clutch? Like pushing down a ton of bricks… but its all part of the adventure I guess! Getting to the barge was no problem, but reversing onto the barge proved to be another kettle of fish altogether! I generally find no problem reversing into tight spaces, but driving a new, huge car, without begin able to look through the rear window owing to all the gear and people piled in the back, and to make things worse, down a narrow ramp, with a clutch that doesn't like to be feathered was quite challenging. The first hurdle in our adventure was overcome with some help from the crew of the barge, and we were on our way to Fraser

Island!Once on the Island we were greeted by plenty of puddles and potholes - it had been raining rather heavily in the previous days so the road leveling crews couldn't do their job. This made for a very fun, bumpy ride up front in the driver's seat, but I think the swaying got boring after the first few minutes for the girls riding in the back. Driving off-road is a very slow and time consuming business - though the limit is set at 30km/h on the inland roads we hardly ever got past 20 - anyone who drives at the speed limit on these roads either has no regard for his passengers, or wants to punish them for some wrongdoing!
Our first scheduled stop was at an old logging site called Central Station, where we filled our water tank, emptied our bladders, and then set off for the first real attraction of the day - Lake Mackenzie. This freshwater lake is the largest on the island and is comprised of a sandy beach surrounded by rainforest, looking on to the cobalt blue waters of the lake and more rainforest on the far shore. It is a really lovely place to spend a sunny afternoon taking in the views and wading in the cooling waters, though our sun worshipping was limited somewhat by the arrival of rainclouds. We beat a hasty retreat to the carpark for lunch, then set out to our final destination for the day - Gabala camp grounds, along 75 Mile Beach. With plenty of one-way tracks and big back tracking loops to be done, it took us more than an hour and a half to get to the campsite even though we were just over 20km away.
With Autumn well under way it gets dark quite early, and none of the group being heavy drinkers intent on bingeing all night long, we were tucked away in our cosy tents by 10pm!

Day 2:
Despite the gloomy weather forecast for the duration of our stay we woke up to a bright, sunny morning, and were quickly on our way up the beach looking for a suitable place for breakfast. Once our grumbling bellies had been sated we set off for Eli Creek, the largest freshwater washout along the beach. Here we took a stroll through the picturesque rainforest to the end of the boardwalk, where all the party took off their sandals

and hopped in for a cooling walk in the water back to the 4x4. We didn't see any wildlife along our way, though a guy coming upstream did say he saw a snake…
Back on the Land Cruiser and on our way north along the beach we got our first glimpse of one of Fraser Island's famous dingos - we'd heard plenty of stories about Dingos bothering campers, chasing children, opening tents etc but it took us almost a full 24 hours on the island to see one! With the dingo photo session done we proceeded to the farthest reaches of 75 Mile Beach at Indian Heads. These large rock cliffs mark the point farthest north that we were allowed to travel in our vehicle, so we parked up in the soft sand and set off to explore on foot.
Indian Heads are so named because the cliffs supposedly look like the profile of an Indian - we tried hard at straining our eyes, and letting our imagination run loose, but we couldn't quite make out the profile. From Indian Heads we headed further north along the beach to the Champagne Pools - the only place on Fraser Island where you can swim in sea-water. The rock pools are so named because the crashing waves bubble and look like the expensive French beverage as the wash in on the bathers… though my friends assure me that that is where the similarities end, the taste being quite different!
Back at the Land Cruiser we had the pleasure of seeing some more Dingos feasting on the leftover lunch of some of the other groups… its this sort of behavior that makes the Dingos look to humans as a source of food, so if you ever are on Fraser Island, make sure you don't leave food scraps lying around. Dingos that are not afraid to approach humans can become a nuisance, some even become aggressive towards humans, and so any bold Dingos have to be humanely put down by the Rangers to prevent accidents. I'm getting off my soap-box now…
With the tide receding and the beach widening we could make our way back down the highway/beach towards other landmarks before making camp. Our first stop on the southward journey was at the Pinnacles, a multicolored sandstone formation that is being slowly eroded by the action of the sea and wind.
From the Pinnacles we headed onwards to the shipwreck of the luxury liner Maheno. This vessel foundered off the coast of Fraser Island in a violent storm in 1935 and has proved quite a popular attraction. Unfortunately the vessel has deteriorated so much that it is now forbidden to enter the wreck or stand within three meters of it, but we still got plenty of nice pictures (and everyone seems to disregard the three meter exclusion zone).
Once we'd had our fill of taking photos of the rusting hulk of the Maheno we got back into our pink Panzer and drove into the twilight towards our campsite for dinner and a good night's sleep. While we were setting up camp we were visited by the Fraser Island Rangers who inquired about any Dingos coming into the campsite and were quite surprised when we replied in the negative…
Once the rangers were gone and we sat down to dinner though it didn't take long for one of the four footed fiends to make its was into our clearing, though as soon as it noticed that we were aware of its presence the Dingo beat a hasty retreat, and we saw no sign of it while we were outside our tents.

Day 3:
In the morning we did find some evidence of Dingos in our camp clearing, but they seem to have stuck to sniffing around the Land Cruiser where all our food was stored, rather than approaching our tents.
Our final destination on Fraser Island was to be Lake Wabby, another freshwater lake, but this one being surrounded by high, steep sand dunes on one bank, and thick, impenetrable rainforest on the other. The water certainly wasn't as clear as that in Lake Mackenzie, but the ambient was just as nice. Lake Wabby is inhabited by catfish and turtles, and the former like to swim up to bather's feet for a tentative nibble! The sand dunes also provide for some entertainment - using discarded beer cartons you can slide down the sand dunes just like you would on a sledge down a snowy hill. The descent provides a nice adrenaline rush - and this is needed as the walk back up the dunes is quite taxing!
From the lake we headed to Eurong resort for lunch, and from there it was an all too quick drive back to the barge landing, and an end to our 4x4 adventure on Fraser Island.

A big wave goes out to our safari adventure companions - the German clan: Dominic, Brenda, Anka, Melissa and Sabrina, and the only other non-German speaker, Liz from America!

Plenty of pictures can be found as usual on my Picasa web albums

The Glitzy Gold Coast & BrisVegas

2010-04-23T09:05:00.003+02:00

Surfer's Paradise

The Queensland coast south of Brisbane is known as the Gold Coast, and right at the heart of this glitzy, commercial stretch of land is Surfers Paradise. Surfers is the best example of what the Gold Coast is all about - impressive sky scrapers, golden beaches, theme parks, and non-stop partying. Though this isn't quite my cup of tea Justyna and I felt that it would be an interesting place to stop for a day and night to ogle at the glitz.

With a name like Gold Coast you are right to expect that everything is very expensive, so in our short time at Surfers we stuck to beach walks and window shopping!

Brisbane

The capital of Queensland and the third largest city in Australia is called Brisvegas by the locals because it carries on in the tradition of glitz and glamour of the Gold Coast. Spread over a large area with a healthy mix of high rises and normal sized buildings, with plenty of green areas around the winding river that makes it through the city, Brisbane makes for a nice place to spend a few days. Though the river's murky brown waters look like they'd give you something contagious if you so much as dipped your little toe in, there are places you can swim in the city! On the south bank of the river are the Brisbane Parklands, site of the '88 World Expo and now a large park and green area with an artificial lagoon and plenty of shady walkways.

With our time on the East Coast close to running out we decided to make the most of the free internet available at the State Library to plan out the rest of our journey in Australia - from a 4x4 adventure on Fraser Island, to camping in the Whitsundays and a drive along the outback!

Crickey!

One of our days in Brisbane was dedicated to visiting that great Australian institution that is Australia Zoo - home of Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter. I think that no trip to Australia would be complete without stopping at Australia Zoo.

Steve Irwin was dedicated to protecting native Australian animals and habitats, and the staff at the zoo carry on in his legacy and preaching his message. Steve believed that people would only really start to appreciate the environment if they fell in love with it, and there is no better way to do this than to have a close encounter with wild animals in a safe environment. Obviously you can't get close to the crocodiles, let alone give them a hug, but the display in the Croccosuem goes a long way in dispelling myths about these living dinosaurs and teaching patrons how to be 'Croc Smart' and live in harmony with the wildlife in their surroundings.

The zoo displays a plethora of Australian wildlife, from Echidnas to bearded dragons, from cuddly Koalas to hopping Wallabies. There are also some endangered species that Steve has rescued from less suitable homes, such as the giant Aldabran Turtles - relatives of the Galapagos Turtles that live on an island off the coast of Africa. These two turtles have been in Australia since the 1930s, going from one zoo to another, in fact they travelled around most of Australia before Steve got permission to house them permanently in Australia Zoo. The story goes that Steve drove his ute (pick-up truck in normal English!) down to Brisbane where the turtles were living, popped them into the back, and drove back up to Beerwah. As he was driving along he heard on the radio that people had spotted ET riding in the back of a pickup truck - his Aldabran Turtles had stuck their head out of the side to enjoy the breeze, and some Australians with a wild imagination thought they saw the friendly alien in the back of the truck!

A unique experience at the zoo is to hand feed one of the three Asian Elephants that were rescued from poachers by Steve - hundreds of zoo patrons form three orderly lines, and in the space of twenty minutes the elephants get their morning helping of fresh fruit, strait from the hands of excited travelers. Though its a very wet, sticky experience, there's nothing quite like seeing a 150kg trunk swinging towards your hand to pick up a quartered apple from your hand!

While walking around the zoo you get to meet plenty of locals, the kangaroos especially like being hand fed and don't mind the occasional pat or two, while the Koalas take a brake from sleeping and chewing on Eucalyptus leaves to receive a pat on the bum. Though for you and me the bum of the Koala feels really soft and fluffy and leaves you feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, the Koala hardly notices the interaction. Since they live and sleep in trees Koalas have developed a hard cartilage plate that they sit on while up in the trees, so they can hardly feel your touch.

The visit to Australia Zoo was certainly worth the admission price, the interaction with the animals left me with a greater appreciation for the beauty of nature and the conservation work being carried out by the Steve Irwin conservation foundation and its various branches working to protect tigers and elephants in Asia. This was also the best zoo experience I've had in my life - its the animals that get priority, rather than the humans paying the entry fee; the emphasis here is on giving the animals the best experience possible, and if the visitors can get a few kicks out of it too, then all the better.

That's it for Brisbane, next stop Hervey Bay, from where we take a 4x4 onto Fraser Island, the world's largest Sand Island. Stay tuned!

In the meantime you can see some photos here

Byron Bay and Nimbin

2010-04-23T09:01:00.003+02:00

Byron Bay

Byron, as it is known to the locals, is just south of the Queensland border, but it gets plenty of nice weather just like the Sunshine State. This was a welcome change from the chilly Blue Mountains, and after setting our tent up at Arts Factory Lodge we headed to the beach. Here we saw first hand the damage that bluebottles can cause - the lifeguard station had a constant queue of people needing treatment for bluebottle stings. This meant that my foray into the water was a quick and cautious dip - I wasn't in the water for longer than ten minutes, and in my time in the water I saw several stingers float by. Needless to say I beat a hasty retreat back to the sand to watch the welts inflicted by the electric blue creatures.

Cape Byron is the eastern-most point of the Australian mainland, so we decided to take the two hour walk along the coast to visit. The walk takes in most of the souther part of Byron Bay, rising up into some coastal forest and back down to a small beach, before climbing to the Cape Byron lighthouse. Besides affording spectacular views of the bay and the sea, the walk along the ridge to the lighthouse is a great place to look down into the sea for turtles and manta rays. When we were there we say a good dozen turtles and manta rays, though being so high up the cliff we couldn't get a very good look!

Nimbin

A short day-trip from Byron Bay leads the intrepid traveller to Nimbin - once a sleepy dairy town on the brink of disappearance, and home of the '73 Aquarius Festival. The Aquarius Festival brought many hippies and alternative thinkers into town, and they liked Nimbin so much that they stuck around. Nimbin was saved, and its identity was changed forever. It is likened to a bush Amsterdam, with liberal marijuana smoking by the locals, a hemp museum, and the Hemp Embassy - a pro-legalisation shop that seeks to raise awareness about the benefits of medical marijuana. There are also plenty of locals offering backpackers cookies and ganja… though it does get quite annoying when you're offered weed a hundred times in the space of ten minutes! That being said, Marijuana isn't all that Nimbin is about - the Aquarius Festival called for a change in the way we live, and Nimbin has a thriving sustainable farming culture and the emphasis is on natural, organic produce and a way of life that has as little impact on the environment as possible.

Our first stop on the way to Nimbin should have been Minyon Falls, but due to the rough weather our bus driver decided to save the falls for the return trip, in the hope that the rain would have let down. I didn't realize it but the change of plans was quite a fortunate turn of events…

Minyon falls are situated in the caldera of what may once have been one of the world's largest volcanoes, and there is evidence to suggest that the trees growing here are from Australia's original forest cover that once may have spread across most of the continent.

As we were driving along the dirt road to the falls a campervan was parked just before a ford, with its drivers testing the depth to see if they could make it across. As we passed the van I realized that its occupants were none other than half of Tribali, a Maltese Roots/World music group, and one of them was a colleague from my time working at Salesian Press in Malta! Try as I might, I couldn't get the bus window to open, and I thought that I wouldn't get to meet my old friend and the rest of the group. Fortunately as we got out of the bus at the Minyon Falls carpark Antoine and his campervan pulled up, and we couldn't believe the odds of meeting! Tribali had been in Byron Bay since Easter to perform at the Byron Blues festival, and Antoine, Alessandro and Grigal decided to stick around for a week to explore. They had even been to the Arts Factory Lodge on Saturday night but Justyna and I were having an early night! It felt like we were destined to meet and the guys came around to the Arts Factory that evening so we could have a drink and a laugh.

Our few days in Byron were quickly over, but from the little I've seen I can see why so many travelers decide to stick around for more than a couple of nights - there's plenty of backpacker oriented entertainment, the weather's really good and the opportunities to bum around on the beach or surf the waves abound.

For photos of Byron & Nimbin click here

Katoomba - The Blue Mountains

2010-04-23T08:58:00.002+02:00

Just outside Sydney are the Blue Mountains, a very popular weekend getaway for Sydneysiders and possibly one of the most visited attractions in Australia. The Blue Mountains get their name from the bluish haze that is ever present in the distance. Whereas most vistas generally have a bluish haze the thick Eucalypt forsest in the Blue Mountains contribute to making this haze a very pronounced blue - Eucalyptus oil evaporates from the trees and refracts blue light.

Katoomba is the most central and best served of the towns in the Blue Mountains, and is also home to the famous Three Sisters rock formation. When we arrived in Katoomba the mountains were swathed in thick mists which made for some very atmospheric photos and gave the whole area a spooky appearance, but it didn't provide for great views of the mountains! While the mists were around we opted to take a rainforest walk.

On our second day in Katoomba the weather to a great turn for the better, and we could fully appreciate the vistas afforded by the various lookouts around the town. It is no wonder that Echo Point and the Three Sisters are one of Australia's most popular attractions: they are within easy reach of Sydney, making for a great day-trip if you are short on time, and the views are incredible! The sisters are three columns of sandstone that glow orange in the sun and have as their background the eucalyptus forests of the valleys below and the mountain ranges with their blue tint in the distance.

With plenty of time in Katoomba we decided to take a longer walk through the rainforest, passing by a few waterfalls and cascades and seeing some juvenile Lyre Birds. Its a pity we didn't get to see the adults - the juveniles have very plain tail feathers, as opposed to the intricate plumage of the adults - but a forest ranger told us that we were very lucky to have seen any lyre birds at all, they are usually very furtive animals that shy away from human contact. This same ranger also told us that we were walking in the area where a British hiker was lost for two weeks about a year ago - instead of following a track towards the city he got disoriented and walked away. Though he was only about 10km away from where he got lost it took rescuers almost ten days to locate him. Having walked through the same forest I can attest that it is easy to get lost if you venture deeper into the undergrowth rather than sticking to the main walking paths.

After three days in Katoomba we got onto a train back to Sydney, from where we would hop onto the night bus to Byron Bay, and hopefully some warmer weather!

For pictures of the Blue Mountains visit my Picasa Web Albums.

Canberra - Capital City

2010-04-23T08:56:00.003+02:00

A two hour bus ride from Cooma saw us land in Canberra, the Australian capital, where we spent the Easter weekend. Like most things in Australia, Canberra is BIG! Our camp site was about four kilometers away from the city centre, and most of the attractions in the city are spread out quite far apart. The city was designed by American architect Arthur Burley Griffin, and the Australians so appreciated his design for their capital that they named the artificial lake at the heart of the city after him.

Being the capital, Canberra is home to a plethora of attractions with "national" attached to them - some more entertaining than others, but all with free entry! The Australian National Museum is an interesting modern structure located on the shores of Lake Burley Griffin. It houses a nice variety of exhibitions about Australia, ranging from the wildlife that makes the country unique, to several galleries of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander art and culture, as well as an interesting exhibition featuring the stories of people who migrated to Australia.

Not far from the lake lies the capital hill, which is at the geographical heart of the city. In his design for the city Burley Griffin stipulated that no structure should ever be erected at the top of the hill, and that it should always be accessible to the public, so that the people can always be above the government. The original parliament house, at the foot of the hill, was only meant to serve for about twenty years, but it was only replaced by the new parliament house in the 80s.

The site chosen for the new parliament was Capital Hill, but to keep in line with Burley Griffin's original ideals the hill was pulled down, the new parliament constructed, and the hill rebuilt to its original profile on top of the new building. This design further reinforced Burley Griffin's proposal, with the public having access to the actual roof of the building, and being able to walk over the government! The interior of the building is just as fascinating as the story of the exterior, with representations of the history of Australia throughout. This starts with an aboriginal creation mosaic in the building's forecourt and is followed by the blending of European and native materials in the main entrance to signify the arrival of European migrants. Both houses of government - the parliament and the senate - are open to the public, anyone can sit in the viewing galleries when the process of government is in progress. When sessions run late into the night Parliament house does not close - anyone is free to come and go into the viewing galleries.

The last attraction we visited in Canberra was the National War Memorial, a tribute to all the brave Australians who gave their lives serving Australia. The displays start with an extensive gallery dedicated to the ill-fated Gallipoli Campaign in World War One and go right through to the present anti-terrorism commitments that Australians are undertaking in Afghanistan and Iraq.

Much of our time in Canberra was spent getting from one attraction to the other - with it being Easter Weekend the public transport was running on a Sunday Schedule, meaning reduced services, though we would have ended up with a cultural overload if we had got to all the attractions available!

Photos from my trip to Canberra can be found on my Picasa Web Albums

From the sea up to the mountains - Lakes Entrance & Coomalurr

2010-04-13T11:53:00.003+02:00

Lakes Entrance

A five hour bus ride from Melbourne on the Victoria Coast one can find the Great Lakes National Park. The "lakes" are a series of brackish lagoons protected by sand dunes going far inland providing plenty of space for water sports, swimming, lake cruising etc.

The main town in the national park is Lakes Entrance, so named because it is situated where the lakes meet the ocean, making for some very nice scenery. Unfortunately that is just about all that Lakes Entrance had to offer to two travelers on a limited time schedule. The Esplanade plays host to lots of ugly motels and motor parks, there's just one backpackers, the Riviera YHA. YHA ho

stels are generally clean and well run, but can be very expensive and are usually large establishments with a very impersonal feel. The Riviera lived up to the YHA reputation, being expensive, having a surly manager and on top of that the room we stayed in wasn't exactly the sort you expect from YHA; the decor was very dated (late 70s/early 80s) and the bedding didn't look quite clean. We had no option but to stay the night since our bus arrived in Lakes Entrance at 23:30 and none of the caravan parks we contacted would let us show up so late.

In the morning we ran away from the hostel as fast as we could to the first caravan park we found - the Main Lakes Entrance Caravan Park. The on site vans looked like they were lived in permanently rather than being holiday abodes, and the camp kitchen left a little to be desired, but at least it was cheap ($19 a night for two people) and our tent was pitched in a quiet corner under some shady willow trees.

As I said before there isn't much to Lakes Entrance besides the scenery, and with the rain clouds that blew in on our first day at the Lakes we didn't get to enjoy that either! The Great Lakes park is definitely an area that needs to be explored in a car to get the most out of it - all that we saw was Cunninghame Arm, the sand spit that forms the mouth of the lagoon; and the aforementioned Lakes Entrance esplanade with its motels and overpriced tourist-oriented shops.

Its a pity that our first experience "solo" in Oz was a bit of a lame duck, but as they say, you live and you learn. We are now making sure there's plenty to be done within easy walking distance or with decent public transport connections before we make a stop on our journey along the east coast of Australia.

P.S. The first picture is a blurry shot from my mobile of a large spider that made its home in one of the public phones in Lakes Entrance. Its snacking on a moth!

Cooma

We're traveling up the Eastern Seaboard with a bus company called Premier Motors - they have a backpacker's pass that for £336 takes you from Melbourne to Cairns with as many stops as you like along the way. The only catch is that the bus routes go from one state capital to the other, so they travel overnight. If you want to stop somewhere along the way then you'll probably get there in the very wee hours of the morning. This is just what happened to us en route to Cooma in the Snowy Mountains - we were dropped off in Eden at 3:00am, and our connecting bus to Cooma wasn't till 7:00am. All that standing around on a cold bus stop has given me a small insight into what it must be like for the homeless - sleeping on a cold bench, waking from your half sleep with every noise, a cool wind blowing… But the four hours eventually wound away, we got onto the warm bus and slept all the way to our destination!

Cooma is the most affordable town in the Snowies, the other small towns are skiing resorts, so prices are much higher than normal, and there isn't much life outside of the ski season. Getting to places like Thredbo isn't easy by bus either - the only way to get there is by hopping onto a school bus for $40 each way! That was enough to rule out any further exploring of the Snowies for us, instead we used our one full day in Cooma to take a walk through the bush.

The informative brochure provided by the Visitors Centre says that along the walk you can occasionally see several Australian natives like the Gippsland Monitor Lizards and the Echidna. The rarity of the sightings spurred us on to keep our eyes peeled for the elusive wildlife but all we saw were Cockatoos, and after camping for a few days we had quite grown over the novelty of the raucous the birds make! While on this walk we got first hand experience of how disorienting the Australian bush can be - the reserve we were walking in had plenty of small paths shooting off from the main tracks and somewhere along the way we took a wrong turn. It took us about 15 minutes to realize that the path we were on was taking us in the wrong direction. We tried to backtrack and got even more lost! After another half hour of retracing our steps and playing bush ranger we managed to find our footprints coming from a familiar fork in the road - we'd found our way back to the right footpath! From there it was easy to make our way to the entrance to the reserve and start to walk back to town for some refreshments…

… but that would have to wait as Justyna realized she'd lost her sweatshirt along the way! We figured we'd powerwalk to the farthest part of the path that we'd followed, if she had dropped the sweater before we got lost then we'd be sure to find it, but if it had fallen while we were lost, then it was gone forever! Not wanting to get lost again, this time without water, we employed all the route-finding tricks we've learnt from watching so much Born Survivor (Bear Grylls), we clearly marked every turn of the path that we made as we walked along the trail. The sweater was happily recovered - Justyna had dropped it at the end of the trail, where we decided to turn back and make our way home (and subsequently got lost). With all our trail markers along the way it was easygoing back into town for a much needed cold drink and some tucker!

All in all Cooma proved much friendlier that Lakes Entrance - the locals certainly were more helpful to a couple of tired travelers, and there was certainly much more going on around town to keep us entertained.

From the Snowy Mountains we caught a bus to Canberra, where we would be spending the Easter weekend.

Pictures will be going on to my picasa web album soon!

Halls Gap

2010-04-08T08:29:00.003+02:00

Halls Gap

The Grampians National Park is about four hours from Melbourne by coach and train and is a popular mountain retreat for Victorians. Halls Gap is the central town in the Grampians, from where you can easily access most of the bush walks and trails - if you have a car! Once you get to Halls Gap there is no way of getting around except on foot or in private cars, so we were "stuck" in the town. Luckily the best walks in the Grampians start from Halls Gap :)

We set up our tent at the Halls Gap Caravan Park, where we were surprised to see a few wild kangaroos lounging close to our tent site. The brochure did say that kangaroos were regular visitors but we were in for a surprise - as soon as the sun has set behind the hills the 'roos hop down into the park to graze on the green grass of the campsites - dozens of kangaroos within stroking distance… The kangaroos are fine with people taking photos but they'll promptly hop away if you reach out to stroke them.

The main bush walk in Halls Gap is called the Wonderland Loop - a 10km hike through the Wonderland Ranges starting from the Halls Gap botanic Gardens. With daytime temperatures hovering near the 30C mark we decided to tackle the hike in the late afternoon, setting out at 3:30pm, hoping to be back before sunset (the suggested time for the hike is 4-5 hours). The walk takes you through a cool valley past the Venus Baths to the Bridal Veil falls - though the latter were only a trickle because there had been no rain for a good few weeks. Once past the Bridal Veil falls the hard work starts as you have to gain about 800m of elevation over 2km of track, and here most of the track is exposed to the baking sun rather than being in the shelter of cool rock walls. That being said, the hard work is worth it as the views along the Wonderland Loop really pay off. Sights along the way include the Grand Canyon and Silent Street, a narrow alley between sheer rock walls that leads you to the top of the wonderland ranges and the astounding look out point called The Pinnacle. From the Pinnacle you are rewarded with panoramic views of the Grampians National Park, with Halls Gap beneath you and Lake Mackenzie to the right.

From the Pinnacle its 2.5km downhill to Halls Gap, and here our timing was rewarded as the sun was blazing on the other side of the Wonderland ranges. We reached the end of the track at about 6:30pm a good two hours ahead of the suggested time, and we stopped for quite a few breaks along the way. In hindsight, we could have set out a good hour later than we did and still have made it back to camp before sundown.

Halls Gap is well worth a visit if you are in Victoria - if you're coming by public transport then you have to be prepared to walk everywhere and not see much - there is so much more to do than what we managed in two days, but you really need your own wheels to be able to see it all. Not even two weeks into our holiday we were beginning to realize how hard it is to get around in Australia if you're relying on public transport. A word of advice - if you're planning on touring around Australia you really should consider buying a cheap car to get you around.

For photos visit my Picasa Web Albums

Our first camping adventure over, we headed back to Melbourne for one final night with my relatives before catching our night bus to Lakes Entrance.

P.S. A note of warning to anyone who might be visiting Halls Gap in the future - bring your own supplies, unless you want to pay extortionate prices for everything from the local general supplies store. Some examples of their daylight robbery prices: $3.60 for a bottle of water, $4.95 for a bag of crisps etc etc.

Melbourne

2010-04-08T08:26:00.002+02:00

Australia is big. Very big. Very, very big. I knew that. But still, I didn't realize just how big this country is! Our hosts in Melbourne were my mum's cousin Moira and her family, and they were kind enough to take us out for a drive one day. We drove for about two hours to get to Mt Dandenong, and we were still in Melbourne! Up on the mountain we got a hazy view of the huge sprawl that is Melbourne. As far as the eye could see there were buildings (with plenty of green spaces in between), and all made up the greater metropolitan area of Melbourne. When you arrive in Australia from Europe you need to take your idea of big and throw it out of the window. You need to think HUGE - and then you're close to realizing just how big the continent/island/nation is.

Now that I've got the size issue out of the way, back to Melbourne! Our time spent in Victoria was mostly dedicated to catching up with cousins and grand-aunties and getting ideas about places that we should visit while traveling in Oz. Meeting relations didn't get in the way of our sight seeing though, and we got to see a fair bit of what the greater Melbourne area has to offer.

Our first outing was a drive through the city at night, seeing the bright lights and glitzy glamour of the Docklands, as well as a drive around the Australia Grand Prix circuit - which was held the week we were staying in Melbourne. Just like you can drive around the TT circuit in the Isle of Man, the Melbourne GP circuit is open road for 51 weeks a year. Car racing isn't the only sport that is loved in Melbourne - there are plenty of sports grounds to be found in the city - ranging from the facilities left over from the Melbourne Olympics, to the MCG (Melbourne Cricket Ground) and the Etihad Stadium, home of Aussie Rules Football.

The city's tallest and most recent high rise, the Eureka Tower, provides a great viewing platform to look out over the city. It also houses the southern hemisphere's fastest lift, taking less than 40 seconds to get you from ground floor to 88. And just to make the building that little bit more flashy, the windows of the top 8 floors are plated with 24 karat gold!

Joe, another Ozzy cousin, took us out to Healsville WIldlife Reserve - a wildlife park showcasing Australian fauna that also houses Victoria's largest wildlife hospital. During the bush fires of February 2009 the frontline was only 11km away from the sanctuary and it was feared that the area would be destroyed, but luckily the fires didn't get any closer. Lots of animals that were rescued from the fires were rehabilitated at Healsville, and those that could not be returned to the wild will see out the rest of their days in the comfort of the sanctuary. At Healsville you can tick plenty of animals off your list, including Koalas, Kangaroos, Echidnas, Wombats, Goannas, Frilled Lizards, Dingos and the Platypus. Though the animals are there, you don't see them all, as they can be hiding, or resting, or just couldn't care less about the humans ogling into their enclosure! The animals that you will definitely get to see are the birds of prey. The falconers at Healsville have a few of Australia's top winged hunters - harriers, hawks, barking owls, buzzards, and the mighty Wedge Tailed Eagle.

A good day trip from Melbourne is the Great Ocean Road - a scenic highway that hugs Victoria's south coast from Geelong to Warrnambool. There are plenty of great sea side towns to stop in along the way, but the highlight of the drive has got to be the Twelve Apostles. The Apostles (of which there are now only five left) are limestone stacks that have eroded away from the cliff face. The blue waters and crashing waves make for plenty of pretty pictures.

Plenty of photos to be seen on my picasa web albums

Having finally bought a tent and some more camping gear in Melbourne we were eager to try them out, so we took a train out to Halls Gap in the Grampians National park...

Sydney

2010-04-07T13:24:00.005+02:00

Sydney - even the name sounds good… A city of four million (that's as many people as there are in all of NZ), home to the Sydney Opera House, the Harbour Bridge, incredible Sydney harbour and plenty of modern architecture. After spending two months in New Zealand, most of it in small towns, finding ourselves in a big city was a welcome change from the norm.

Our stay in Sydney was focused on Circular quay and the Central Business DIstrict as both were within walking distance of where we were staying, but before we could begin our touristic explorations we got the business of sorting out our Thai visas out of the way. Once we had all the paperwork in order we headed for Circular Quay and our first good look at the Sydney Opera House. This building is a masterpiece of modern architecture - plenty of curves and lines, wide open spaces, and an air of sophistication without being alienating or intimidating. Needless to say I went back to the Opera House at different times of the day to take photos in different lighting conditions.

Although we didn't attend any concerts in the Opera House (way too expensive!) we did get to listen to a Massive Attack concert that was being held in the Opera House forecourt for free. If you're ever in Sydney and concerts are being held in the forecourt don't fork out any money for tickets - just head to the sea-level promenade beneath the Opera House and you'll be able to listen in perfectly well and absolutely free of charge!

The high rises in the CBD create a very nice skyline, and walking in the city you don't feel crowded in by the buildings around you. This feeling is greatly enhanced by the wide roads and plenty of pedestrian zones that run through the city. A short walk from Circular Quay takes you to the Harbour Bridge, known as the coat hanger to Sydney-siders (the shape makes the name an obvious choice). At the time of its completion the Harbour Bridge was the longest of its kind in the world, and walking along the Bridge you appreciate what a feat it is to suspend all those tons of metal, concrete and tar over the sea.

On our first evening in Sydney I couldn't help but be amazed by the swarms of Flying Foxes taking off from the botanic gardens - Flying foxes are giant fruit bats - about the size of a small cat - that make the Sydney Botanic Gardens their home during the day. It is quite an unnerving sight to see all those huge bats flying overhead. When in the Botanic Gardens at dusk you can't help but notice the fracas being made by the Cockatoos - hundreds of these beautiful parrots also make their home in the Botanic Gardens, but they are out to play when the Flying Foxes are sleeping.

Sydney Harbour is world famous for its beauty and a ferry to Manly is a great way to go out on the water and look at the city from a different perspective. Manly is on the North Heads of Sydney, facing the Tasman Sea, so the ferry takes you along all the harbour from Circular Quay to the open sea. Manly started out as a seaside resort for Sydney-siders wanting to get away from the city, but as the city grew Manly became part of it, but that doesn't stop people taking the regular ferry out to Manly for a break from the city. There's plenty of sun-worshipping and surfing to be done on the beaches, but swimming isn't recommended due to the rips, the jellyfish and the pollution, so we stuck to sunbathing while we were at Manly.

There are plenty of interesting museums and galleries to visit in Sydney but as we were on a tight schedule we only got to see the Art Gallery of New South Wales, home to a varied collection ranging from European renaissance art, Far Eastern arts, and obviously a wide range of Aboriginal and Australian art.

Three days in Sydney fly by very quickly, but that's a recurring theme in our travels so far - we're trying to see as much as we can of this huge country in ten weeks, so as we boarded our plane for Melbourne we had quite a long list of things to be done in Sydney on our next visit!

For photos click here

Live and Direct from Australia

2010-04-05T04:31:00.002+02:00

Hi guys
Its been a while since I gave you a heads up on my travels, and you'll just have to hold on for a couple more days while I try to find a reliable internet connection that won't cost an arm and a leg!
Updates will be upcoming in the next few days as we'll be going to a backpacker-friendly place called Katoomba in the Blue Mountains.
See you in a couple of days!

The last of New Zealand

2010-03-16T22:59:00.002+01:00

Here's the final update from NZ (being uploaded in Sydney) covering Invercargill, Dunedin and Christchurch.

Plenty of photos to be seen by clicking this link!

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Invercargill
Following a couple of action packed weeks we disembarked our bus at Invercargill, the southernmost city in the world, and home to the world's fastest Indian. Most people coming to Invercargill just spend the night before taking an early ferry to Stewart Island, and after spending two whole days in Invercargill I don't blame them for shooting through!

The city has a very low skyline, making it feel a lot larger than it actually is - this size illusion also has the effect of making Invercargill feel empty. Most of the shops we walked by were closed or about to shut down and besides the handful of backpackers there didn't seem to be that many young people out and about.
The main attraction / time killer in Invercargill has to be the museum annexed to the visitor's centre. Its got a nice series of displays on Maori culture, a bit of Invercargill settler history and an extensive display on the sports disciplines practiced in the Otago region. The sports section also has some interesting videos about Burt Munro, also known as the World's Fastest Indian. For those who haven't heard of him, or watched the movie starring Anthony Hopkins, Burt Munro was a speed demon and motorcycle enthusiast who bought an Indian motorcycle in 1929 and raced it in various events until late in the 1970s, modifying and casting custom made parts in his garage. He even took part in the Isle of Man TT once! His claim to fame, and the title of the World's Fastest Indian, were achieved in the salt flats of the American heartland where he broke his own land speed record three times, always in this garage modified 1929 Indian motorcycle.
The highlight of the visitor's centre has to be the Tuatara display. The Tuatara is NZ's largest lizard, and has been around since Gondwanaland broke up to form the southern continents of Australia, Antarctica, S. America and NZ. It is very hard to see the Tuatara in the wild as it has all but disappeared from the mainland due to predation from introduced pests. The "thriving" populations are to be found on predator free offshore islands that are hard to reach unless you are a DOC employee or volunteer, so the terrarium in Invercargill gives the casual traveller a chance to see this prehistoric lizard.
Behind the Museum/Visitor's Centre you'll find Queen's Park, a large recreational area featuring a fitness track, golf course and plenty of grassy areas excellent for picnics in the sunshine.

Dunedin
The penultimate stop on our tour of New Zealand was Dunedin, originally a Scottish settlement (Dunedin is the celtic name for Edinburgh) and the largest city in New Zealand during the Otago Gold Rush. Nowadays it ranks as the fifth city of NZ and is home to Otago University, giving it a very lively, young feeling - a welcome change from sleepy Invercargill! The Otago region is sports mad, the local stadium is called the "House of Pain" and everything from buses to street signs comes in the team colours of Gold and Blue.
There's plenty to do in and around Dunedin - lots of window shopping in the city, a Settler's Museum, Chinese gardens, and plenty of sports in the bay as well as walking and nature watching in Otago Peninsula, where at the right time of year you can see dolphins, seals, penguins and albatross.

While in Dunedin we were staying just outside the city in Leith Valley on a lifestyle block - i.e. a small farm of less than 30 acres. Our hosts Ellen and Raymond (parents of Arwel, a friend we met in the Isle of Man) juggle full time jobs with tending bees for Manuka honey, looking after a clutch of free range hens and a few sheep. Being a city boy myself I was keen to lend a hand and experience life on the farm. Tasks included chopping wood for the fire (hard work if you don't get the swing just right), building a dirt bridge over a stream (can't take all the credit for this one, all I did was cart a few wheelbarrow-fulls of soil to the stream) and harvesting the beehives and spinning out their delicious honey. Wwoofing (willing-work-on-organic-farm) is a nice way of getting in touch with your rural self, and I think the NZ experience would not be complete without a taste of farm life. It helps you appreciate the hard work that goes into the fried egg you had for breakfast, or the aromatic Manuka honey you spread on your toast.
There's plenty of easy walking to be done in Leith Valley when its not raining, with plenty of native birds providing a soothing soundtrack as you walk beneath the trees. Blackberries were in season so we also had snacks at arm's length along our walk. There's nothing quite as tasty as a juicy blackberry picked fresh off the hedge on a warm sunny day!

An hour's drive north of Dunedin are the unique Moeraki Boulders - giant rock marbles on a long sandy beach, as if the gods abandoned a game of bowls half-way when the tide came in. There's plenty of photo-fun to be had on the beach with the great orbs, and you can get your feet wet if you're not careful, as the tide rolls in right up to the sandstone cliffs. Its the action of the waves and wind on these cliffs that creates the boulders - they are pockets of hard rock in the softer surroundings that are worn away at a much slower rate than the sandstone.

Christchurch
From Dunedin its a five hour drive to Christcurch, the largest city on the South Island and the most "English" of all places in New Zealand. Originally a Church of England colony, Christchurch was meant to be "like Oxford, only much more English and gentlemanly" - no common riffraff could settle here, it was a city reserved for the English gentry, at least in the early years. As the town grew and gold was discovered in the vicinity more down-to-earth settlers started coming in, giving Christcurch the diverse feel it has today. There are still many touches of Britishness - from the Anglican cathedral in Cathedral Square to the punts gliding along the Avon River and the Victorian era electric trams doing the city circuit.
Hageley Park and the Botanic Gardens are the lungs of the city, with plenty of space for peaceful walks and relaxation away from the hustle and bustle of the central part of town.
The coast is only a short bus-ride away with plenty of things to make you get wet - swimming, surfing, kayaking and sailing; as well as airborne adventures like paragliding. Our walk along Scarborough head gave us fantastic views of Christchurch with a backdrop of snowy Southern Alps and seaside Sumner in the foreground.

Our stay in Christchurch has been pretty sedate, we've done plenty of strolling around the city and a bit of window shopping - Justyna and I are recharging our batteries as we're about to board a plane for Australia, where we start the second part of our adventure.

This brings to an end two months in New Zealand, enough time to see the highlights, to get a sweet taste for what the country has to offer. The South Island definitely deserves more time in any NZ itinerary than the North Island, there's a lot more to see and do, especially if you like the outdoors. If you don't have the luxury of spending two months in NZ, then I'd suggest you rent a car. Having your own wheels means you can do more in one day - with the added bonus of getting to see the sights that are inaccessible with public transport.

Stay tuned for the next update, coming to you from Sydney, Australia!

Queenstown, Te Anau and beyond

2010-03-10T05:47:00.005+01:00

Its been a long time since I updated my blog, so instead of making a mega-post I'll just gloss over the details of the last two weeks:

After Lake Tekapo we headed back south to Queensland - the self styled "Adventure Capital of the World". This amazing little town sits on the edge of lake Wakatipu and at the foot of some incredible mountains. In between the snow of the peaks and the waters of the lake you can get up to all sorts of fascinating, enthralling, adrenaline pumping sports: skydiving, paragliding, hang gliding, skiing, snowboarding, luging, rock climbing, mountain climbing, tramping, rafting, canoeing, kayaking, jetboating, fishing and swimming, and many more that I'm sure I've missed out on mentioning. Besides all the adrenaline pumping you get some amazing scenery.

The drive into Queenstown is breathtaking to say the least, with scenery ranging from vineyards nestled under cliffs to steep sided gorges and flowing rivers with snowcapped mountains in the distance. Just when you think you've seen the best views yet, you come round a bend and the superlatives keep on piling up as you struggle to describe the beauty before you.

Our adventures in Queenstown took us for an easy stroll along lake Wakatipu towards Frankton where we found some nice plums growing by the side of the road. On our second day in Queenstown we took the easy 500m climb to the summit of 900m Queenstown Hill that offers some great views of the town and surrounding mountains, especially the imposing Ben Lomond (a hard, 8 hour trek to the summit).

Te Anau

A two hour bus ride south of Queenstown lies Te Anau, a very small town sitting on the edge of the lake of the same name. Te Anau in and of itself is not much of a destination - people go through Te Anau to get to Milford Sound, Doubtful Sound, and the Kepler Great Walk. There isn't much going on in Te Anau save some nature walks along the banks of the river but due to the torrential rain we didn't have much opportunity to enjoy the vistas, and besides we were really looking forward to our Milford Sound cruise the following day!

Milford Sound

The Milford Sound is quite a misnomer, as this is an actual fjord, as are all the other "sounds" that are to be found in Fjordland National Park - the southwest corner of the South Island and part of the Piopiotahi national park area that extends to cover most of the West Coast of New Zealand.

Our day started at 8:15 am when we were met by our bus driver Simon at the accommodation. As we got out of town and made our way to Milford Simon was full on informative nuggets and could answer all our questions with authority - before taking up his job as a day tour driver he spent 20-odd years working for the DOC in Fjordland, so he knows the national park better than most. The 120km road from Te Anau to Milford is described as one of the best Alpine Drives in the world as it takes you from a Mountain Lake up to the snowline, through the mountains, then past more glaciers and down down down a winding valley to sea level, but not before going through an amazing variety of forests depending on the altitude.

Attractions along the way include the Mirror Lakes and plenty of gorges with waterfalls, but the true purpose of the road trip is to get you onto a boat that takes you around the stunning environs of Milford Sound.

This steep sided Fjord was missed on several occasions by Captain Cook as its mouth is so narrow - it was only discovered by Europeans when a whaler took shelter in the "cove" and discovered that it went on, and on, and on for about 15km! Though a sunny day would have made the views better, the rain we were experiencing while on the water helped to turn on the waterworks: there are only two permanent waterfalls in Milford Sound, the rest are all temporary cascades created by the rainfall, so the more it pours, the more you can admire.

For plenty of photos from Queesntown, Te Anau and Milford Sound visit my picasa web albums!

Central South Island

2010-02-28T06:37:00.003+01:00

On the 23rd of February we took a detour from our southward path to travel up into the heart of the South Island, visiting the mountain resorts of Lake Tekapo and Mount Cook Village.

Tekapo is the village on the lake of the same name, with a population of 295 but having as many, if not more, people passing through each day. Most busses traveling from Christchurch to Queenstown (and vice versa) have a rest stop in Tekapo because of the stunning views and colours. Lake Tekapo is in the heart of the Mackenzie Basin, a large plain surrounded on all sides by the Southern Alps. The geography of the Mackenzie Basin means that the closer you are to the middle of it, the less it rains, as the mountains hang on to the rain blowing in from east and west. Just a few kilometers away from the mountains the yearly rainfall rate drops from +6m to just under 2m. Besides the good weather you've got Lake Tekapo itself - a glacial lake of an astounding powder blue that seems almost unnatural, as if the Tekapo Tourism board had tipped several tins of paint into the lake! The colour is due to Rock Flour - the granite of the mountains was finely ground for millennia by glacial movement, and the resulting fine powder is suspended in the waters of the lake giving it a mesmerizing hue.
There's plenty of walking to be done in and around Tekapo, as well as plenty of fishing and other water based activities. Our chosen hike was the Mt John Observatory climb - an easy 2 hour trek up the 500m mountain that is home to the University of Canterbury's series of telescopes and night sky observatories. The isolated location of Lake Tekapo means that on clear nights (and there are plenty of them) you can see an incredible number of stars, the Milky Way is a bright blaze of white from North to South. Unfortunately I lost the quick release for my tripod a few weeks ago (probably in the rain at Abel Tasman national park), so I was reduced to resting the camera on my backpack for my attempt at a night photo but it should still give you an idea of the amazing sky above Tekapo. In the photo you can also see the Church of the Good Shepherd, a very small interdenominational chapel on the shores of the lake that offers a panoramic view for the congregation. Sitting in the chapel you can't help but wonder at the miracle of creation.

Our main reason for visiting Lake Tekapo was actually to use the sleepy village as a base for visiting Mount Cook / Aoraki national park, home to most of NZ's highest mountains - the star being 3754m high Aoraki, the Cloud Piercer dubbed Mt Cook by Pakeha (European settlers). From Mount Cook Village you can take a few half day walks into the valley beneath Aoraki, and we opted for the intensive climb to Sealy Tarns, a 3-4 hour return ascent to a small alpine lake with rewarding views of Mount Sefton, the fourth highest mountain in NZ; the Murchison Glacier Lake and of course Mount Cook. Our stay at the Sealy Tarns was cut short due to the clouds coming over the mountains - the temperature dropped and rain was imminent. Aoraki was certainly living up to its name!
Once down in the valley we started on the other half-day walk that would lead up the Hooker Valley to Murchison Glacier lake, though we could only go about half way due to time constraints. On the way back we did get to see some alien wildlife though - a wily weasel ran across the track, stopped half way and checked us out before continuing into the bushes - so the short trek had its plus side despite the rain. On the walk back to our pickup at the Hermitage Hotel (rooms from NZ$530 a night) we also foraged for mountain berries - our search netted us plenty of red currants, some blackberries and raspberries as well as a handful of gooseberries.

As always, plenty of photos are to be found on my Picasa web albums.

Updates from Queenstown and Te Anau will be online in a couple of days' time, so stay tuned!

Wanaka

2010-02-27T06:48:00.003+01:00

Wanaka is a small town that sits on the lake of the same name, on the edge of the Mount Aspiring National Park. Being on the "wrong" side of the Southern Alps makes Wanaka a very pleasant place - the mountains hang on to all the moisture blowing in from the Tasman Sea, leaving this lakeside town basking in sunshine and warm temperatures.

Though Wanaka really comes into its own in the winter, there's plenty to do in the sunshine. Our first port of call was the Waterfall Creek walkway, though due to the dry weather the waterfall was more of a trickle. This two hour walk takes you along the lakefront past vineyards and kanuka forest to the foot of Mt Roy, a hard 8 hour climb that we shied away from.

Instead of the taxing Mt Roy ascent we opted for the more realistic climb up Mt Iron that provides rewarding 360 degree views of the immediate surroundings. At the foot of Mt Iron lies Puzzling World, an intriguing tourist attraction - the first in the area - home to the world's first "modern style maze", meaning its made of wood rather than hedgerows.

The maze has a total of 1.5km of walkways, but generally you will walk between 3 and 5km in your quest to reach the four corners and make your way back out. Target time is 30 minutes to an hour, and they're not joking when they say it takes long! Finding the corners is the easy bit, its making your way back to the start/finish line from the farthest corner that really does your nut in. More than once we were close to reaching for the emergency exits after finding ourselves to be in exactly the same position as five minutes previously!

Once you have completed the maze you then head into the puzzling rooms - four separate areas, each with its own magical attributes. The first is a hall of holograms, laser produced 3-D images that change depending on the angle at which you view them. Being in this room brought back childhood memories of my first encounter with holograms at the Science Museum in London when I was about 5 years old. Next in line is the hall of faces - 168 famous faces that follow you around the room, Mona Lisa style.

The third room is the Ames forced perspective room, where you get to play a Hobbit. The room is built with whacky proportions in a similar manner to the sets used in Lord of the Rings, so that the people standing at one end of the room are way too big, whereas their counterparts at the other end look tiny.

Saving the best room for last, you enter the tilted house. This room is not for the easily nauseated, everything is tilted at 15 degreees so that water flows uphill, you ride a slide upwards and manage to tilt forward to impossible angles!

A must do in Wanaka is the Cinema Paradiso, it will blow away your idea of a cinema forever. Situated in the old town hall, the Paradiso has one projection room where patrons sit on a mismatched collection of sofas, pouffes, seats from a Chinese airplane, and an old Morris Minor. If the screening proves particularly popular there are cushions for you to sit on the floor. It feels more like being at a friend's house than being in a cinema and makes for an intimate experience.

That's it for the Wanaka update - next stop is Lake Tekapo in the Mackenzie Basin.

For photos visit my Picasa web albums!

Punakaiki & Fox Glacier

2010-02-27T06:16:00.005+01:00

Two updates in one as I try to catch you up with the adventures of the last ten days!

Punakaiki

Punakaiki is a quiet little place halfway from nowhere on the West Coast of the South island - a few hundred kilometers from Greymouth and Westport, the closest towns. There's no shop, no ATM or bank, no mobile phone reception. There is a pub and a café but they are quite pricey.

What you will find in Punakaiki are the Pancake rocks at Dolomite Point. As the name implies the Pancake rocks are a peculiar rock formation that look like stacks of pancakes. In favorable weather the rock formations also turn into stunning blowholes that blow seawater a couple of meters into the air.

After ticking Dolomite Point off our to-do list we headed back north to walk the Turner track, a one hour walk through native forest down to a grey beach surrounded by a limestone cliff and a spot of sun worshipping.

On our second day in Punakaiki we planned to walk along Buller Gorge for a half day walk, but alas, the heavens opened wide and all we could do was a quick run to Punakaiki Cavern before returning to the shelter of the Punakaiki Beach Hostel. With the rain pouring down all day we had no option but to stay indoors where we spent more than a few hours putting together a 500 piece jigsaw puzzle.

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Fox Glacier

A further few hundred kilometers down the We(s)t Coast you can find Franz Josef and Fox Glaciers, two towns 25km apart named after their respective glaciers. Though very tourist oriented, the towns do have a certain charm about them.

Our reason for stopping in Fox Glacier was to take part in a full day guided glacier walk:

At 9am we reported at the Fox Glacier Guides offices where we were outfitted with climbing boots, crampons, wooly hats, mittens etc and put into groups of 12. Our guide was a friendly Austrian called Walter Fox (no relation to the Fox after whom the glacier is named). A bus takes the group of walkers to the terminal face of the glacier, but before you do any walking on the ice there are 800 odd steps to be climbed through native rainforest. Fox Glacier is a truly amazing place for the wide range of habitats that are present in a short area - you walk through rainforest, subalpine terrain and finally are on the ice and in the mountains, and just a few kilometers away you will find the sea and great beaches.

Once on the ice walkers are also introduced to the Alpenstock - a sturdy wooden pole with a stud at the end, basically a rudimentary form of walking stick. While all the walkers were cosy in their woolies, our guide Walter was tramping around in shorts and t-shirt. The reason for his light clothing quickly became apparent as he started to swing his pick-axe to carve steps out of the raw ice.

The full day walk involves about five hours of walking on ice, and it is truly an amazing experience as you get to go high into the glacier, up close to crevasses and seracs, moulins and ice caves. All these ice formations come in a gamut of incredible hues of blue. As the day drew on the clouds caught up with us, replacing the warming morning sun with a chilly grey cover. Having made the most of what the ice could offer our party started the slow descent back to the terminal face of the glacier, where the bus was ready to take us back into town for a warm cuppa.

Glacier walking - an awe-inspiring experience that you should try if you get the occasion, the money's certainly worth it!

Nelson, the Centre of New Zealand

2010-02-15T08:26:00.005+01:00

After our adventures in Abel Tasman National Park Justyna and I needed a couple of days to relax and put our feet up, so we headed to Nelson, a small town just south of Abel Tasman. Our stay here was blessed with plenty of sunshine that made our strolls in the parks very pleasant.

About 30 minutes' walk from the town centre is a monument on top of a hill that marks the "Centre of New Zealand" that offers a really nice panoramic view over the city.

There's not much to report from Nelson - we again tried our luck at finding some good, cheap camping gear but the tent we set our sights on was sold out, so the camping will have to wait a bit longer. We're staying at a really cosy hostel called Shortbread Cottage - its very similar to Piano Hill in Whangarei - owned by a single guy in his late 30s, more of an open home than a hostel, and its only got 13 beds, so the people staying in the Cottage all know each other by name. And as an added bonus you get a yummy home made shortbread cookie on your pillow each evening! A lovely treat to end a long day spent walking the town ;)

Tomorrow we have an early bus to Punakaiki, home of the Pancake rocks and Blowholes - stay tuned for the next update!

Motueka, Apple Pickers and Abel Tasman

2010-02-15T07:53:00.003+01:00

Another update, another national park! Between the 11th and 14th of February Justyna and I were in Motueka, the gateway to Abel Tasman National Park and home to lots of apple orchards. The hostel we were staying in was mainly frequented by people on working holidays who were in the region for the fruit picking season - Kiwifruits and Apples. We also met up with a Maltese couple who have been on the road for over two years now - something to aspire to!

Abel Tasman NP is situated in the north west of the South Island, to the north of Marlborough Sounds. It is the place where Abel Tasman, the first European to sight New Zealand, came close to land. He was greeted by a Maori war party and mistook the Haka for a song of welcome. Needless to say lives were lost on both sides and the traveling Dutchman beat a hasty retreat, but not before christening the land he saw after his hometown back in Holland. The park is a beautiful mixture of native forest, golden beaches and crystal clear turquoise waters.

On our first day in Motueka we just explored the small town on foot, walking along a small river then out onto the local sandspit and estuary, home to many waterfowl. The weather wasn't too good but we kept our fingers crossed for a nicer weather over the next few days when we would be going to the actual park.

Friday dawned with a lots of moody clouds overhead, and as we made our way to Kaiteriteri for our boat pickup the weather didn't get any better! By the time we were on the water taxi it was pouring down, but at least we were in the covered boat. The cruise took us past Split Apple Rock, a very interesting granite rock standing out in a bay that is split down the middle, just like an apple. Maori legend is that two gods were fighting over the rock and decided to halve it to end the quarrel. Further up the coast we sailed close to some Fur Seal pups then in and out of lots of nice little coves that make up the park. We were dropped off about half way down the walking track, for what is said to be the nicest part of the Abel Tasman coastal track. With our waterproofs tightly secured we set off in the drizzle to our rendez-vous point about 7km down the track. The walk was very easygoing, the highlight of it being a narrow swing bridge suspended about 10-15m above the rushing river below (no photos though, it was raining too hard). On the boat ride back to Kaiteriteri the weather took a turn for the better, we got loads of sunshine and by the time we landed in Kaiteriteri it was a really hot afternoon :/ If only the timing of the weather had been reversed!

On Saturday we woke to a windy but clear day and caught a bus to Marahau, from where we were to pick up our kayak for a day of paddling along the Abel Tasman coast. During our two hour safety briefing the winds howled, the rain poured down, and we were worried about not being able to go out because of the bad weather. The guide didn't help our nerves at all by constantly reminding us of how easy it would be in this weather for the kayak to capsize! In a positive turn of events the pouring rain actually helped us out as the low clouds suppressed the winds, so even though we were paddling in the rain the sea was very calm.

We set out along the coast towards some secluded beaches and by the time we had our first landing for lunch the rain had stopped completely, though the clouds were still there. The cloudy weather was actually a boon as we were getting quite hot from the effort of paddling the kayak along, it would have been unbearable in direct sunlight. After our lunch stop we crossed the Astrolabe Roadstead towards Adele Island where we had seen the seals the day before, though with it being the afternoon the seals had moved around to other parts of the island. We did hear lots of birdcalls though - Adele Island is one of many "predator free" islands in the park that are encouraging the growth of many of NZ's endangered bird species.

After Adele Island we struck a course south towards Split Apple Rock for a closer look and a couple of photos. After seeing the rock up close we headed back to Marahau beach, which had now grown to four or five times its original size because the tide was out! We saw out the time we had left till our pick up taking in the weak sunshine that was making its way through the clouds.

Photos of our time in Motueka and Abel Tasman national park are on my Picasa web album

Kaikoura - Marine Mammal Paradise

2010-02-10T09:38:00.002+01:00

On Sunday we arrived in Kaikoura with rainclouds above us and a moody sea all around us. We had come here hoping for the good weather we experienced in Picton to follow us down the coast to this little coastal town. Kaikoura is a unique place where a very deep sea trench lies close to land, in some places it is as little as 90m offshore. This very deep trench carries cold, nutrient rich currents from the South that meet up with warmer currents flowing down from the North. This mixture of currents creates a very healthy and productive area that is frequented not only by backpacking tourists but by the mighty giant albatross, New Zealand Fur Seals, Dusky Dolphins, Orcas and the mighty Sperm Whale!

Having booked our accommodation for three nights we decided to ride out the weather on Monday, opting for a three hour loop of the Kaikoura Peninsula, taking in a couple of Fur Seal colonies and some truly astonishing scenery, despite the weather - on a good day it must be even better, as you get to see the Seaward Kaikoura Mountains rising behind the town. The rather large Fur Seals seem unconcerned about the attention given them by tourists; the two specimens we came across went on about their business of basking on the rocks and doing nothing even when the Japanese tourists went right up close for photos! Once back in town we enquired about Dolphin swimming, but unfortunately there were no places available next day, just space on the Dolphin watching tour. With sad hearts we booked ourselves onto the Dolphin watching, but also put our names down on the waiting list for the swimming tour. What a wise decision that was! In the early evening we got a call from Dolphin Encounters asking if we would like to upgrade to Dolphin swimming as two places had opened up…

So it was that on Tuesday Justyna and I were to be found getting out of bed at 7 o'clock in the morning to make our way to the offices of Dolphin Encounters where we were given wet suit, flippers and goggles and told to make as many noises as possible once in the water "to entertain the dolphins". The boat ride out to the dolphins took some 25 minutes. Once in position (with hundreds of dolphins swimming around the boat) we were told to slide into the water and follow the beautiful creatures.

The Dusky Dolphins are one of the most acrobatic species of dolphin, taking to the air in leaps, back flips, somersaults… you name it! When you're in the water the dolphins swim around you going about their own business, but occasionally you will gain the attention of one of them, it will come in for a closer look, and start to circle you. The more you make noise and follow its lead, swimming in circles like the dolphin, the longer it will stick around "playing with you". This is a truly amazing experience, these dolphins are beautiful animals in the wild, if ever you get a chance to go dolphin swimming you should leap to the occasion!

We got to swim with the dolphins about three times. Since the pod is racing down the coast, in about 20-30 minutes the 600 or so dolphins in the pod will have all but swum past, so the swimmers climb back onto the boat that carries them to the head of the pod. The dolphins are wild creatures, not every tour has as much interaction as we did, sometimes the dolphins are not in the mood to play at all, and will swim away from the boat when people get into the water.

Today, Wednesday, we arrived in Motueka, where we will be based for our adventures in Abel Tasman National Park, said to be one of the most beautiful parks in New Zealand… stay tuned for more updates!

Picton & the Queen Charlotte Track

2010-02-10T09:36:00.003+01:00

On Thursday we landed in Picton via the Interislander Ferry, a three hour sail from Wellington through the Marlborough Sounds to the small port town of Picton. It was a pretty uneventful sailing, save for seeing three dolphins, and of course the amazing scenery of the Sounds.

Taking a short walk to Bob's Bay on our first afternoon in Picton we were amazed by the noise the crickets were making… I'll be adding a video to the picasa web album later. The waters in the Marlborough sounds are much warmer than the sea around Wellington, but unfortunately our swim had to wait till a few days later as we didn't have any swimming trunks with us.

Our main reason for staying in Picton was to take on the Queen Charlotte Track, or part of it at least! This is a 71km hike along the hilly ridges overlooking the Queen Charlotte and Kenepuru sounds, truly breathtaking scenery. The fjord-like geography of the area is thanks to sinking mountains - what we see above the waterline are the peaks of ancient mountains that have slowly sunk into the sea. We walked the last 22km of the QC Track, from Torea bay to Anakiwa. Though its longer than the Tongariro Alpine Crossing it is a much easier walk, after the first steep climb from sea level to about 400m its quite easy going, Justyna and I managed the walk in just under 5 hours including a 40 minute detour to Misletoe Bay to fill up on drinking water. We made such good time on our walk that we even had an hour to spend lazing in Anakiwa waiting for our water taxi back to Picton. While I was trying to take a nap a duck and her brood of ducklings thought I had some sneaky snacks hidden somewhere and they came inquiring… they were confident enough to let me pick them up!

In Picton we were staying at Sequoia Lodge, so named after the large Californian Redwood planted in front of their main entrance. This is a great place to stay if you're passing through Picton - not only is it a really cosy and friendly place, you get free internet access, breakfast and tea and coffee, they also give you free hot chocolate pudding and ice cream at 8 o'clock every evening! A truly delicious way to end the day. Another perk offered to guests at the Sequoia are free mountain bikes, so on Saturday, thinking that we're fit enough, Justyna and I borrowed the bikes for a morning, hoping to tackle the mountain bike track in Picton. Unfortunately it proved too challenging for us, so we took the easier route and cycled to Waikawa Bay. In the afternoon we took a refreshing swim in the beautiful waters of the aforementioned Bob's Bay, our first real swim since we were in Auckland all those weeks ago!

On Sunday we boarded the TranzCoastal train down to Kaikoura, about which you can read more in my next update!