Essence of China - Southbound
trip notes: CSE
validity: 01/03/2007 to 31/12/2007
Welcome to Intrepid real life experiences... we hope that you enjoy exploring the world as much as we do. The Essence of China trip has proven to be one of the best we offer in China. We take in the major attractions of this giant country, whilst also visiting lesser-known secrets that make travel in the Middle Kingdom such a unique, eye-opening experience. From the majestic splendour of Beijing in the north to the sublime beauty of southern China and so much in between, join us to experience the true essence of China - you won`t be disappointed.
Itinerary Disclaimer
The itinerary attached is correct at time of printing. Please note: occasionally our itineraries are updated during the year to incorporate improvements stemming from past travellers` comments and our own research. Our brochure is usually released in November each year. As such the information given in this itinerary may be slightly different to that in the brochure. It is VERY IMPORTANT that you print and review a final copy of your Trip Notes a couple of days prior to travel, in case there have been changes that affect your plans. For the latest updated trip notes please visit our website: www.intrepidtravel.com
Trip Map
Itinerary
Days 1-4 Beijing
Travellers arrive at all times during the day, from all corners of the world, so there are no activities planned for day 1, apart from our group meeting and dinner afterwards.
Note that your group leader will collect your local payment (USD300) at the group meeting on day 1. Please bring new USD bills/notes in large denominations.
For those who arrive early, a great way to get started is to rent a bike and venture onto the streets to get a feel for this enormous city. There is simply so much to see and do in Beijing that it`s well worth staying 3 nights.
We spend one full day at the Great Wall at Simatai (approximately 3 hours` drive from Beijing). An incredible piece of engineering, it stretches westwards over 6000km from the mountain ridges north of Beijing. It was originally constructed to protect the Chinese empires from the Mongolian `barbarians` of the north.
Beijing itself is the capital of all capitals and we take time to visit Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City, followed by a rickshaw tour of the hutongs and a performance by Huiling - an Intrepid supported local charity for Chinese with learning disabilities. Other sights that you might want to visit during your free time include the Temple of Heaven, the Summer Palace and the Lamaist Monastery, or you might want to shop in one of the many markets or explore the hutongs of the Old City.
In the afternoon of day 4, we board the overnight train to Xi`an (approximately 13 hours). Train travel in China is interesting and reasonably comfortable.
Days 5-7 Xi`an
We arrive in Xi`an early in the morning. This former imperial capital is our base for a day trip to the Terracotta Warriors, situated a short drive out of town (approximately 1 hour each way). These stone warriors have been buried for over 2000 years and are all facing east in battle formation, complete with horses and chariots. There are also many other attractions on offer in the city of Xi`an, including the Great Mosque (which is a wonderfully serene place to escape the hustle and bustle of the city) and the fantastic evening food markets. The centre of Xi`an is enclosed by an enormous city wall and is a great place to view the sun setting over the city or to watch the locals in the morning doing tai chi and ballroom dancing. On day 7 we leave Xi`an mid-afternoon on an overnight train bound for the capital of Sichuan Province, Chengdu (approximately 17 hours).
Days 8-9 Chengdu/Leshan
Chengdu has managed to preserve some of its traditional flavour and we still find legendary teahouses and some of the most interesting food in China, including the spicy Sichuan hot pot.
We have a free day to explore the teahouses and the streets of Chengdu, get a massage and perhaps sample some of the local specialties. The Sichuan cultural performance also shouldn`t be missed.
On day 9 we make an early morning visit to the Giant Panda Reserve, where we are able to witness the conservation efforts being made to save this adorable endangered species. We then travel in the early morning for 2.5 hours to the town of Leshan which is home to the world`s largest outdoor seated Buddha. `Da Fo` the Buddha is carved into a cliff face and is 71m tall.
After sightseeing around the Buddha, we continue on to Baoguo (approximately 1 hour) which is the base for our excursion to the famous Mountain of Emei, one of the most famous Buddhist sites in China.
Days 10-12 Emei Shan
The views from the 3099m peak at Mount Emei are truly spectacular on a clear day, and we travel by local bus and cable car to witness it. The energetic can join the procession of pilgrims winding their way down the mountain by foot (6-hour hike). Alternative options can be arranged for those not so enthusiastic about walking. The beautiful countryside at the base of the mountain provides ample opportunity for leisurely paced day walks and a welcome retreat from the hustle and bustle of Chinese cities. Our usual accommodation at one of the mountain`s monasteries is basic but keeps our travellers raving!
On the morning of day 12 we catch a local bus to the industrial city of Chongqing (approx 8 hours), the gateway to the Yangzi River and starting point of our Three Gorges boat trip.
Days 13-16 Yangzi River
Chongqing is a rare sight in China - a city with barely any bicycles, due to the steep hills!
Water levels permitting, we board our Chinese boat tonight for our journey through the mighty Yangzi River area. We spend 2 full days on board a basic Chinese-style boat on our way through the Three Gorges en route to Yichang. Along the way we may have the opportunity to visit some of the many attractions and towns. At one stage we leave our river boat to take an early morning trip down a tributary of the Yangzi River.
Our cabins are clean, twin-share with private toilet and shower facilities, but not luxurious. There is basic Chinese food available in the restaurant on board.
We arrive in Yichang in the evening of Day 15 and take an evening tour of the Dam Site. Due to our late arrival it is not always possible for us to view the dam sight in daylight (if this is important to you we suggest that you do the Northbound Essence of China trip).
On Day 16 we take a private transfer to Wuhan (5 hours) and then catch an overnight train to Guilin (approximately 13 hours) in the afternoon.
Days 17-19 Yangshuo
Arriving in Guilin on the morning of day 17, we transfer by public bus (approximately 1.5 hours) to the small countryside town of Yangshuo, where the Li River winds its way around thousands of limestone karst mountains. Each are impressively named, in true Chinese tradition!
There are many options for our time here. Optional activities include taking a boat ride along the stunning Li River, stopping at markets and picturesque villages along the way, or observing one of the local traditions, cormorant fishing.
On day 18 we take a full-day bike ride through the surrounding countryside with a local guide to gain an insight into rural Chinese life, and have a scrumptious lunch in a local farmer`s home. This is also a wonderful area for exploring individually, as every turn in the road brings you to another picture-postcard location - this is why Yangshuo is a firm favourite with Intrepid travellers.
We travel back to Guilin in the afternoon by public bus and board an overnight train to Shenzen in the evening of day 19 (approx 14 hours).
Days 20-21 Hong Kong
After an early arrival in Shenzen cross the border and catch the metro in to the heart of Hong Kong. Be prepared for the change of pace as we enjoy our last night`s dinner in the most dynamic city in Asia. There are plenty of things to do in Hong Kong - explore Stanley Market, shop, eat, go up Victoria Peak or take a harbour cruise. You may wish to arrange extra nights` accommodation in this exciting city.
You are free to depart at any time on day 21.
Sabah - the land beneath the wind
trip notes: BSC
validity: 01/01/2007 to 31/12/2007
Welcome to Intrepid real life experiences... we hope that you enjoy exploring the world as much as we do. For the traveller with an adventurous spirit, Sabah, the land beneath the wind, will take your breath away. Once feared for its wild head hunters and impenetrable jungle, Sabah still retains an air of adventure in a remote corner of the world. From climbing the mighty Mount Kinabalu to being guests in a small Dusun village, we seek out the flora and fauna of the forest, encounter orangutans and sea turtles, soak in hot springs and laze on the beach. A great combination for those with limited time but a hankering for adventure.
Itinerary Disclaimer
The itinerary attached is correct at time of printing. Please note: occasionally our itineraries are updated during the year to incorporate improvements stemming from past travellers` comments and our own research. Our brochure is usually released in November each year. As such the information given in this itinerary may be slightly different to that in the brochure. It is VERY IMPORTANT that you print and review a final copy of your Trip Notes a couple of days prior to travel, in case there have been changes that affect your plans. For the latest updated trip notes please visit our website: www.intrepidtravel.com
Trip Map
Itinerary
Day 1 Kota Kinabalu
Travellers will be arriving at different times during the day so feel free to arrive at the joining point at any time as there are no planned activities, apart from our meeting and dinner. For those who arrive early, there is information at the reception desk to give you some ideas on what to do for the day. Your leader will contact you about a meeting time and group dinner on Day 1.
Kota Kinabalu, the capital of Sabah, is an intriguing city that was born between the Borneo jungle and the South China Sea. Having survived World War II bombings, KK now has a charm that can only be found in a frontier town. In your free time you can immerse yourself in history at the Sabah State Museum, visit the Monsopiad Cultural Village, home to a notorious head hunter, or explore the islands off Kota Kinabalu, excellent for swimming or snorkeling. Allow approximately USD10 for an island visit, although costs can vary depending on your negotiating skills, the time you wish to spend on the island and the number of people with whom you go.
Please note that your leader will collect your local payment (USD200) today.
Day 2 Kiau
After our group meeting we travel to the base of Mt Kinabalu (bus, approximately 3 hours) to stay in the homes of the Dusun people, our guides on Mt Kinabalu. They are wonderfully warm and friendly people and we learn of their spiritual, social and economic attachment to the mountain. The Dusun village is nestled amid picturesque hills in the shadow of the great Mt Kinabalu, the highest mountain between the Himalayas and New Guinea. The rock monolith looms over us as a daunting reminder of the climb we are about to embark on but don`t be discouraged! Our wonderful host Soppinggi will insist that you `don`t think about the mountain!`.
Please note that this village has had very few visitors and we expect our travellers to respect and to act responsibly in this community. Please listen to your group leader who will explain how we can minimise our impact in this village.
Days 3-4 Mt Kinabalu
After a short guided walk around the village, we travel to the headquarters of Mt Kinabalu National Park (45 minutes). There are some beautiful nature walks around the headquarters, through lowland tropical forest, or you can relax in the afternoon. Hopefully catching a glimpse of the summit through the cloud, we can prepare ourselves for tomorrow`s climb. We stay at the National Park headquarters overnight on Day 3.
We begin the climb up Mt Kinabalu in the early morning. It is not an easy walk, but it is incredibly rewarding, willpower being the main requirement, as it`s uphill all the way! The well-marked trail is predominantly made up of steep steps that vary considerably in size. Altitude can affect anyone, no matter how fit you are, and it can certainly slow you down a fair bit. There`s no rush, so take your time and enjoy this pristine environment. Carrying just an overnight pack, you pass an extraordinary variety of plant life including around 1,000 varieties of orchids and maybe even the carnivorous pitcher plant. The climb is 6km and usually takes somewhere between 3 and 6 hours. We spend Night 4 at Laban Rata at an altitude of 3,272m. Bedtime is early in order to prepare for the final climb tomorrow morning!
A certificate is available to prove that you completed the climb - this can be arranged for RM10.
IMPORTANT NOTES FOR CLIMBERS ON MOUNT KINABALU -
1. Identify your mountain guide(s) who will display an identification card.
2. Travel together in your own group and stay with the mountain guide(s).
3. Alert your mountain guide(s) if you have any difficulty.
4. Display your climbing permit and show it to park officials at check points in Timpohon Gate, Laban Rata and Sayat Sayat on your way up and down.
5. If for any reason, you are separated from your group on the mountain, please follow the white rope. If visibility is very low please hold onto the rope and follow it. (There is a thick white rope leading all the way from the vegetation belt above Panar Laban to the summit. This rope is marked with yellow reflective paint every 5 feet and is helpful for climbing up while providing safety on walking down. PLEASE FOLLOW AND USE THE ROPE FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY.)
6. The weather on the summit can deteriorate in a matter of minutes, with thick mist reducing visibility to 3m, rain storms and wind up to 120km/h can occur at times. Please hold the rope, which will lead you to safety.
7. If you are separated from your mountain guide or lose sight of the rope, STOP IMMEDIATELY, stay where you are and blow your whistle to attract attention. PLEASE DO NOT TRY TO FIND YOUR WAY OUT.
8. When climbing the summit please make sure that you are doing the following things -
- wearing warm enough clothes
- carrying a torch light (and spare batteries)
- carrying a rain coat
- carrying some energy food and water
- carrying a whistle
Days 5-6 Poring Hot Springs
We rise very early this morning in order to catch the sunrise at the summit of Mt Kinabalu (4095m). It is difficult walking, but a huge achievement! The view from the summit is stupendous - the jungles of Borneo in one direction, the South China Sea in the other, making every inch of the climb worthwhile. Be warned though, don`t underestimate the cold - bring some warm clothes!
The climb from Laban Rata to the summit takes between 2 and 4 hours. Even if you are very fit you may find this section of the climb difficult because of the altitude. This can make you feel quite nauseous and short of breath. The trail is marked out by a rope that is also useful to help you up some of the steep sections and gloves are recommended to protect your hands (and keep them warm!).
After returning to Laban Rata for breakfast at the restaurant, we descend the mountain (3-5 hours) in time for lunch. We continue on to Poring Hot Springs (approximately 1 hour by bus) and have time to soak our weary limbs in the hot springs. Sheer bliss! We stay here for 2 days.
On Day 6 there are a number of optional activities from which to choose. Traverse the canopy walkway, where you can view the jungle as the birds and monkeys do, or visit the enchanting butterfly farm. Each of these has a nominal charge. You may also choose to trek to Laganan Falls for a 50m shower or just laze in the hot and cold pools.
Days 7-8 Jungle Camp/Malay Homestay
From the steam of Poring Hot Springs, we enter the equally steamy jungle, travelling first through palm oil plantations on a morning bus ride (approximately 5 hours). Our program at Kinabatangan is run by a local ecological program, MESCOT.
The MESCOT project aims to provide villagers with environmental education and the means of making a living from their forests, without the need for its destruction by chainsaws. Part of the program is to develop an ecologically sound wildlife and eco-tourism centre, owned and operated by the villagers themselves. After learning about forest rehabilitation, we head by boat (approximately 30 minutes) or foot (approximately 1 hour, easy) into the jungle to spend the night. This is the best way to experience the true wild Borneo. Wild elephants are rarely seen but we will hopefully find crocodiles, macaques, wild orangutan and the freaky-looking proboscis monkeys, as hornbills fly in the skies overhead. Be prepared for an adventure!
On Day 8 we are invited into the lives and homes of a local traditional Malay village for a night. Experiencing the ways and traditions of the locals firsthand like this is an amazing privilege and your leader will explain local cultural expectations to ensure that we get the most out of our stay. We are then billeted out into different homes throughout the village, where the sleeping and bathing arrangements are very basic.
Day 9 Sandakan
We travel overland by bus to Sandakan (approximately 1.5 hours), to the commercial hub of the district. The journey into town gives a good indication of the vast areas of rainforest that have been cleared for palm plantations. Sandakan was once the capital of British North Borneo and traditionally has had strong trading ties with Hong Kong. We have free time here to catch up on laundry and banking and explore the city. The Cantonese influence here is evident in the lively harbourside market and many Chinese temples. The emotive war memorial park offers an insight into the tragic history of battles in Borneo.
Day 10 Turtle Island
Travelling by speedboat (approximately 1.5 hours) past fishing villages and bamboo fish traps, we head out to Turtle Island where every night of the year giant green turtles come ashore to lay their eggs. In the evening we hope to witness this heartwarming display and help the researchers as they release protected hatchlings and guide them in their frantic dash to the ocean. It is a moving experience that makes you think twice about trying the illegally traded turtle egg delicacy! This is a very delicate environment and you must follow instructions from your leader and the local rangers to ensure minimal impact on the turtles. Photographing the turtles is permitted by the local government but is not recommended as it disrupts the turtles. There are photographs available for you to purchase. There is time for swimming and lazing about on this tropical island where we stay for a night in `chalets`. Snorkelling gear is available to hire.
Day 11 Sepilok Orangutan Reserve
After our return to the mainland (45 minutes), we continue on to a guesthouse located near Sepilok Orangutan Reserve (approximately 30 minutes by taxi). The reserve is set up to help re-introduce these wonderful creatures back into the wild after a life of domestication or having been orphaned. As we walk into the reserve to see the feeding of these semi-wild orangutans it is essential that we follow instructions from the park warden. We are not permitted to interfere with the orangutans as human contact must be kept to a minimum.
Days 12-13 Kota Kinabalu
We fly back to Kota Kinabalu where we conclude the trip in a seaside guesthouse south of the city. Relax by the pool or explore the surrounding islands on foot or by boat. It is also possible to go horse riding along the beach and through local villages. Expect to pay about USD30 for a 2-hour ride.
You are free to depart any time on Day 13 as no activities are planned. Our beach stay is a short taxi ride from the airport.
Hello from China...we have finally arrived after a marathon flight and an exciting taxi ride through Beijing.
We don`t have time to write a lot now but thought you would like to know that we are ok and havent choked to death on the smog yet.
We will blog more in the next couple of days but right now there is a sweet and sour pork dish with our names on it.
Keep logging in to look at our photos- the next few days include the Great Wall amongst other things so we should be able to get some great shots.
By the way...enjoy work tomorrow!
Hi everyone just writing our first diary entry, its been a busy few days where to start!
We arrived in Beijing on 27/9/07 after an interesting taxi ride and our taxi driver not having a clue where our hotel was and speaking no english but we arrived in the end. We where very jetlagged and scared to go out of the hotel as there are very few english speakers which makes it interesting to order food so we decied to play it safe and eat in the hotel that first night. The chop sticks complicated things slightly and Jaime has never eaten so slowly!
The next day we had the day to look around and even ventured into a noodle bar which wasnt as scarey as we thought you just point at the pictures! (although the food looked nothing like the picture). We obviously went into a traditional chinese restaurant The California beef noodle king USA! We then met our intrepid group and leader who we would be spending the next 21 days with luckily they all seemed nice and a good mixture: 5 aussies, 2 canadians, 1 Irish and 3 English. We went out for proper chinese that night and the food was fantastis and only cost 2.20 pounds each for eight dishes. The night didint start so well as we lost our tour leader just after leaving the hotel but it was a good bonding experience. The restaurant was set by a lake with lots of boats and music with people dancing and trying to get us to join in.
Sat 29/9/07
A nice lie in for the first day of our trip of 7am straight into Beijing rush hour with a 3 hour drive to The Great Wall of China! We did stop off on the way however to see The Great Shit Mountain of China at one of the squat toilets which boasted world class facilities including invisible toilet roll, some invisible doors, microscopic locks (microscope not included) and an icerink floor made of genuine chinese urine (you would have loved it).
We arrived at Jingshanling where we were due to walk 10km to Simatai, which took us between 4-6 hours to finish depending how many peasants you had to fight off with a stick along the way. The minute we got out of our minibus a gang of "farmers" (probably closet millonaires) attached themselves to our group. At first they were annoying but when we realised they had super human endurance up the gigantic hills they became very handy (they pulled us up them).
The Wall was amazing for its views, although walking it was very challenging as certain parts of the path are completely eroded away and it constantly climbs up to watch towers and then drops right back down again on the other side. At the end of the walk we felt obliged to buy a guide book from our farmer as she had walk with us for 2 hours and carried Jaime up all of the hills.
At night we ate at a local restaurant where they serve you a one plate meal served on a large flat stone platter it was lovely and we did carefully avoid the dog.
Sun 30/9/07
We had a free day today to look around Beijing and recover from yesterdays events so we decided to walk some more and visit the Summer Palace with 5 others from our tour group. First we had to brave the Beijing subway and absolutely rammed would be an understatement, luckily 2 of the group were very well travelled so they sorted us out (thank god!)
The Summer Palace was beautiful with lots of temples/palaces set around a lake with boats on. We also purchased some locally produced paintings of the four seasons painted on silk scrolls from a student called Andy, they are set on the Yangzi River and have all got two herons on them them to represent Yin and Yang.
We then stopped off on the way home at a restaurant recommended by the lonely planet guide for its Beijing Duck nine years ago luckily it was still there as we were all starving by then. We saw the duck being carved even the head abd the aussies with us enjoyed eating its brain (sickos).
In the evening we went to see The Kung Fu Show at one of Beijings theatres.....it was awesome.
Mon 1/10/07
NATIONAL CHINA DAY YEAH EVERYWHERE IS PACKED! Today we visited Tianamen Square and The Forbidden City. Tianamen Square was cool howeverJaime missed most of it as he had to make a run to the nearest squat toilet probably due to the street dumplings we had had for breakfast that morning.
The Forbidden City was impressive we had a local guide "Kevin" lol to show us round. It was very vast and like so many of China`s historical sites the structure is almost all intact which gives you a really good sense of the history of the place.
We then did a Hutong tour (literally translated small alleyway) where tiny houses and shops are in the samo lay out as they would have been when Beijing was first founded. As part of the Hutong tour we visited the Hui Ling Charity home to mentally impared and disabled people in Beijing. (In China disabled people are treated poorly compared to England it is a shame on your family). We had a really nice lunch there and the residents put on a performance for us as well as teaching us calligraphy. The time there was really good and the residents seemed to really enjoy playing their instruments and singing- they got us up to dance at one point too! We took some videos of it so look out for them in the near future.
After the Hutong tour came the unmentionable train ride. 12 hours in a "hard sleeper" where 6 bunks are crammed into one doorless carriage and noone can even sit up in bed unless they are in the bottom bunk (neither of us were). We enjoyed the stench of the toilet and the sweltering heat- but at least the food was good- some bloke came round with little takeway pots of rice and about 3 other dishes for a quid. Suprisingly we slept pretty well until the weirdo with the torch came round flashing (his light) at 4am. When the 12 hours of hell came to an end we consoled ourselves with the thought that it would be but 72hrs before we boarded our next overnight train.
Tuesday 2/10/2007
We arrived in Xi`an @ 6am and wandered through the vast underground car park with a chinese guy who looks like hong kong fooeys side kick. We got driven to the city hotel which is just around the corner from the internet cafe we are in right now. Today has been pretty good- we wandered around a market and ate some jelly cubes with soy sauce and spring onions which Houng told us were just rice flour and water. Huong was the chinese pension man who practises calligraphy and kidnapping in his spare time. We are kidding of course about the latter but he did take us to his studio and show us some calligraphy for free which was nice. Eventually he may even read this so HELLO HUONG.
After that we cycled around the city walls (on top of them- they are still standing from the Ming Dynasty)- its 14km so by the time we had the "fucking slog" as it affectionately become known we were glad to walk about a bit. We tried to go into the watch tower but got told off for having ice lollies dripping all over the place. By that time we were ready to go home for a delicious noodle pot and dry bread roll anyway so we stuck it to the man and did just that.
Later that exciting day we went to an all you can eat buffet restaurant which was pleasant espcecially with the live eels. And now we are here...stay tuned for more exciting developments- you can see in the itinerary what we are up to in case we dont post for a few days now.
GetJealous has limited photo space but Snapfish is unlimited so use the following URL to see our pics:
http://pandalandpics.snapfish.co.uk/snapfishuk
We will get around to captioning all 400 of them eventually but you can probably figure out what they are.
Went to see the Terracotta Warriors today just outside of Xi`an (1 hr by bus) again it was very impressive. We had a local guide called "Jim" to guide us around, it is a national holiday week in China at the moment so it was really busy and we got used to pushing our way to the front.
Jim tried to make us make a detour to his Terracotta Warrior factory but we declined. The Terracotta Warriors were built in the tomb of the first emperor of China and they have well over 4000 so there was a lot to see. The photos are now up on snap fish so have a look.
In the evening the rest of our tour went to the muslim quater of the city to eat but we decided to get a taxi to the big goose pagoda in Xi`an where there was fountain show on to music (mum-similar to the walzing waters?). It was really packed there must have been about 2000 people. We walked around for a bit and had an ice cream which we thought might have been coffee cake flavour from the piture but we never quite worked it out! Its really strange aswell when random people ask to have their picture taken with you apparently its because we have more pointed noses than them!
Today we were looking forward to our 17hr train ride overnight to Chengdu to see the giant pandas. We were suppose to get our train at 130pm and arrive the next morning but due to floods our train was delayed and delayed and delayed and finally we got at 8.20pm. Luckily there was another California Beef Noodle King USA to keep us amused even if there toilet did look like a scene from Saw! Jaime also had time to get his trousers taken up by a woman on the street for the reasonable price of 2.50 pounds.
We were on a soft sleeper train when we did finally get on which we were excited about as it meant 4 bunks in a room rather than 6 and it had a door hurray! zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
After a good nights sleep on the train (suprisingly!) we arrived in Chengdu about 1pm.
We went straight to see the giant pandas which was really good- saw lots of big pandas and red pandas. We also saw lots of mini baby pandas the youngest was about one month old and looked just like a little teddy bear.
Unfortuantly we couldnt get any photos as the flash might blind them but we got lots of the big pandas. Jaime managed to get a shot of one going to the toilet which apparently our tour guide said was very lucky as she had never seen it lucky us!
Finally about 6pm after a the 8hr train delay, the 17hr train ride and then walking around a panda sanctuary we arrived at our hotel in Chengdu. Being amazing and brilliant Jaime asked if therw were any rooms with double beds in (rather than the standard 2 single beds) and we got upgraded FOC to the honeymoon suite! It had a canopy over the bed and the bed itself was sprinkled with rose petals. The ensuite was entirely walled in with glass with a deep red blind which looked cool too. The only thing missing was the champagne.
We went to a Teahouse that evening which was more like a little theatre though you got free tea and peanuts in with the price of the show. They had several acts including some Beijing Opera, a man playing a weird chinese instrument, a bit of acrobatics and some other little am-dram bits. It was quite fun and the pics and vids will be on our various sites soon!
After the teahouse we walked about looking for a beer for Jaime which we finally found and enjoyed a torrential downpour without our ponchos.
Yo again homies. We got up at 6am as bloody usual on this bloody tour of sights at sunrise...we travelled to Leshan to see the worlds largest Buddha which was pretty impressive for two atheists. Only joking, the icecream was fantastic. There were actually some lovely little buildings on top of this mountain and so Chinesey ponds full of fish and mini pagodas on islands...aswell as the obligatory Japenese people insisting on taking our photos.
After Leshan we got the bus to the Boa Guo Monastery which sits at the foot of another mountain. Because the humidity of Chengdu is about 80% while sunshine ratio is 28% the rooms all smell slightly of damp and the monks begin chanting at 4am- interesting! We ate with the monks that night and though the rest of our group thought the food really good we both thought it was lukewarm vegetarian shite- different strokes for different folks I guess!
The next day we went to the top of the mountain which involved walking past theiving monkeys and taking a cable car to the summit. The day was ridiculously foggy so while the pics at the top of the mountain indicated the wonderful panorama that is normally visible it just looked like the inside of a cloud to us. We enjoyed the worlds most expensive Galaxy bar on the way down as well as general bitching and moaning because we were getting hungry.
We ate at a local restaurant before completeting a 3 hour walk to another monastery which is amusingly set at the top of 1,191 steps- ha ha ha ha ha we thought.
The monastery was not too bad as it had electric blankets! but on the downside outside toilets! That evening we ate with our group at a tiny cafe at the top of the mountain which was lovely we each had been given a stick incase of any monkey trouble so we made sure we took those with us didnt want them stealing our food we were starving after the walk!
In the morning we then had to walk down the 1,191 steps and had to choose whether we wanted to go on the long walk or the short walk home. Obviously we took the long walk home coz we`re dead hard and so took us 5 hours to get back to our first monastery. It was a very scenic walk and we even had some food at a local cafe on the way with a cockerels head in it what a lovely surprise! We saw lots of monkeys along the way which was cool luckily we didnt have to use our sticks we just hid behind our tour guide instead. We slept so well tht night that we didnt even wake up to the sound of the chanting monks ar 4am.
Today was the start of our 3 days on the Yangzi River but first we had an 8 hour local bus ride to get through which was an experience. Most of the journey was spend on dirt track roads (apparently this was the main road but not sure if we believe that), the driver also liked to beep his horn a lot! especially when overtaking, there was any on coming traffic, we went through a town, there were cows on the road, there were people crossing the road even when there was no one in sight! The toilets were probably were worst ones yet with no doors on all in all in was a very relaxing drive!
We were quite relieved to arrive at Chongqing where we were boarding our boat. We had a little twin room with our own bathroom which we very happy with. We had VIP passes which meant we could go up to the top deck and get free tea so we went up there for most of the first night.
The next day we had the opportunity to see some amazing cultural sights- that was according to the tour guide anyway, unfortunately they were scheduled for a 7am start so we felt free to sack them off and sleep till midday.
That afternoon however we did go to the largest waterfall in Asia. We are ashamed to admit that we were slightly scammed. We knew not to buy gems or carpets to export, we knew that train passengers might drug food and drink and then nick our stuff...what we didnt realise is that "largest waterfall in Asia" actually meant WIDEST waterfall in Asia. Now I dont know about you but the first thing that pops into my head when looking at a waterfall is not " I wonder how wide it is?", hence we found ourselves in reality paying to see Asia`s least remarkable waterfall which did however include a walk behind the waterfall where the caves looked like a star trek set and one of the Ozzie`s ponchos made him look like King Arthur which brightened up our day.
The journey to the waterfall also included an intro to China`s deathsport of " Chicken on the Mountain" where overtaking another bus on a blind bend at 50kmph is considered fun. The only thing more painful than gripping the seat with both hands was listening to the westerners complain about the driving like they were going to sue the driver for emotional trauma.
Of course we agreed with them when on the way back the driver inexplicably stopped at a comb "exhibition" by which he meant comb "shop"- this is a recurring theme in China as in "would you like to meet my family?" being followed by a hearty chuckle "of course they live in my shop, now, since you are here and you are very nice english maybe you want to look at special prices??"
The next day was the three gorges river cruise. In typical Chinese fashion this lucrative opportunity to drag out the length of a tour and so increase the opportunities to sell stuff meant that we saw the Three Gorges...the Lesser Three Gorges and then finally (really not joking)...The Mini Three Gorges all of which looked pretty much the same (amazing) but we got to gradually downgrade boats in each so that the Greater, Lesser and Mini actually came to symbolise the number of safety features on the boat rather than the gorges it sailed through.
After the six hour gorges cruise of which one hour was spent in the howling winds on deck to get away from the howling of karaoke-ers inside we went to Wushan for dinner. The dinner was fantastic, once we got over the inevitable, horrible ordering process that tends to happen when you have more than 12 people sharing a bill. The chef had a trick up his sleeve to make the food delicious- deep frying. You would be suprised how little stuff here is genuinely deep fried to a gorgeous golden brown- this chef knew what we needed and he dished it out by the bucket load. Mmmmm.
We rounded off the night by buying some extremely caustic Chinese wine and chocolate and sitting in one of the cabins trying to pretend that a stereo is an optional extra at a party rather than a necessity. By the thinly veiled glares of the non attendees the next day I guess my anecdotes may have been delivered with the volume turned up to 11. Whoops.
The last day (up till 2pm) was taken up with dragon boat racing. I got accused of rowing out of time but despite this handicap our team won by a convincing margin. We enjoyed having our photos taken with the victory flag and then wandered off for a delicious lunch of noodle pots and yolk pies.
To round off the trip to the three gorges we went to see the dam itself, a controversial project involving flooding thousands of hectares of land and the badly organised relocation of 1.3 million people though as they are getting 2000 USD a person our tour leader decided that she didnt know what their problem is.
It was raining at the dam and we were in no mood to be entertained by something that looked like a military installation. We employed Kirsty`s tactic "Im going to get off the bus, try to look bothered for a few minutes and then get back on...its bloody freezing". It was an exciting time- from the viewing tower you could see all the car parks and pylons at the same time.
After the dam we went to a new hotel in an interesting district of Wuhan. There seemed to be lots of hairdressers still open at 10pm staffed exclusively by young girls in skirts...we presumed the hairdressing equipment must have been out of sight, maybe upstairs where the customers all ended up.
The following day after checking out of the hotel in Wuhan we embarked on one of our most exciting days yet...a 5 hour coach ride followed by 2 hrs at a train station followed by a 13 hour overnight train arriving at 4am followed by another bus ride of 90 mins. Our carriage on the train was made more exciting by a half naked three year old rubbing his bum all over the table and 4 Chinese people taking up the bottom two bunks which legally hold 2 total.
Being three years old the boy had learnt to cleverly wake up on the hour every hour through the night and cry at deafening volume. I thought one of my pillows had fallen off the bed in the night but the fact that the boy was silent as we crept off the train makes me suspect Kirsty used my pillow to smother him in the middle of the night. To be honest, she should have explained her plan because I was ready to help by 2 am`s wake up call.
Yangshuo is, apart from Beijing, the best place on this tour. It is surrounded by limestone karsts which look like mini mountains, it has a delightful village air about it, the mountains are about 20 metres from our balcony and there are western bars that sell full English Breakfasts along with cocktails and spaghetti bolognaise. Yum yum.
We spent today trying to convince ourselves that we were not so shattered that we found ourselves on the brink of murder every time someone irritated us in some minor way. We shopped for bandanas for me and jewellery for Kirsty and then went for a delicious lunch of Burritos and Spag Bol. We are touring the countryside tomorrow by bike and we are planning to take some Kungfu lessons.
Eventually however we decided to recline in a bar drinking cocktails, after just one long island ice tea and one death by chocolate we were ready to collapse from exhaustion so we did just that!
Bye for now!
After a half hour nap to recover from the excitement of finally finding western food and drink we went to the amazing "Sound and Light Show"- which was interesting. Kirsty liked it and I suppose I can see that it was well staged and the fact that there were roughly 400 people involved in the production meant it was worth the staggering cost but come on...would it have killed them to put a couple of monster trucks in there??
After the sound and light show we all just straggled home trying to convince ourselves that there was intrisic value in a show about traditional life though I suspect that for us at least there may have been more intrinsic value in the 7 death by chocolates we could have had instead. Oh yeah, and we wouldnt be 4 hours older with nothing to show for it.
The next day was the start of our biking tour with Ping. And yes, we did mutter pong under our breaths whenever anyone said her name...
Naturally being China we started out on our shiny new bikes (cough cough) bound for a (cue dodgy Chinese accent) "bumpy bumpy" ride round the countryside. Despite such inauspicious beginnings we both agreed, around 10 minutes in that the ride around Yangshou and the outlying areas was second only to the great wall in terms of amazing scenery and a chance to really get into the heart of china. If anything the bike ride was better as the great wall is understandbly commercialised whereas Ping`s bike tour was just a way for her to earn money that didnt involve back breaking labour in the rice fields.
After about an hour of rather rapid biking we came to Moon Hill- a mini mountain with a moon shaped hole in one of the overhangs. Of course, 15 minuted prior to this we gained a farmer/peasant escort on mopeds, chuckling to themselves at the sound of our laboured breathing their limited english allowed them to do nothing more than cry " Mooooooon Hill" "Mooooooooooooooon Hiiiiiiillllll" "Be careful" "Watch out" and other such encouraging sentiments. On arrival at MH we immediately became attached to our own group of peasants who fanned us and carried water coolers to the top with us.
We have so far climbed over 5000 steps in China and trekked 10km of the Great Wall...even so I think I was not the only one of the brink of collapse by the time we got to the summit and tried to enjoy the unremarkable view. The problem with doing the great wall is that the scenery rather eclipses any other vistas- one really should remember to work up to the wonders of the world rather than down from them. oops.
After MH we went to Ping`s house for dinner. Despite being mainly vegetarian (lol) the food was extremely good and we all felt free to ignore the chance for interaction with a local in favour of shovelling the food in as quickly as possible.
Luckily after dinner it was only a 5 minute ride home. oops there I go again confusing fantasy and reality- it was actually another 90 mins including the opportunity to cross two mini waterfalls barefooted carrying our bikes and trying not to let the slightly worrisome current drag them off to destinations unknown.
Arriving at home we decided to pamper ourselves and take advantage of the strong sterling (go BoE!) and have a foot reflexology massage. We enjoyed an hour in the massage parlour though Kirsty endured the pain stony faced I must admit to nearly being in tears several times. I dont know how they dont break more bones with their iron fists but still...
Later that evening we did the classic three pubs three courses crawl all of which meant our group (sadly sober) stumbled across us in a backstreet cafe sometime around 11 raving about the local fishing boat they had been on whereas all we could contribute was the great news that the long island ice tea was better at 7th heaven than at the red star cafe. I never said we were writing a lonely planet....
The final day in Yangshou was amazing. We woke up at 8am to make sure we were in plenty of time to fall for the classic breakfast theres-no-prices-on-the-menu-oh-its-ok-im-sure-its-roughly-the-same-as-everywhere-else-at-least-it-is-if-you-call-four-times-as-much-the-same-as-anywhere-else-a-bargain scam that everyone falls for in Yangshou.
Anyway, an expensive breakfast notwithstanding we made our way to the chinese market with our guide jebediah (or some name that was as improbable) to see the delicious array of spices and vegetables that the chinese take for granted. Walnuts arent 5 quid a kilo here Terry Leahy....
Of course there was a darker side to the market...cages upon cages full of a variety of animals the english would proclaim cute whilst the chinese quietly salivate and sharpen cleavers. I must admit that i had a little tear in my eye whilst considering the inexorable fate of flopsy and friends in one of the cages- of course watching one of the chinese fish mongers practically "hunt down" and beat to death an errant cod cured me of my misplaced sympathy and I was free to concentrate on comforting Kirsty who was feeling nauseous at the sight of the gutted dogs hanging from the ceiling.
You could find all manner of meat at this market...its said that the only thing with four legs that the chinese wont eat is a table and we believe that...frogs, dogs, ducks, snails, pigeons, pigs, cows, worms, eels, an ocean of fish and probably peoples grandmothers roasted in ovens, jumped nervously within their nets and generally made sure that anyone with a heart felt bad for them. Still...we stepped out of the market whistling a merry tune...we were about to eat afterall....
A short busride later and we arrived at our cooking school. I had a slight panic attack when I realised that the aprons were not made for the rotund but Kirsty helped me jerry rig it together.
We cooked 5 dishes starting with some egg pancackes- I seemed to receive more coaching than Kirsty...I have come to believe that i give off slight whiffs of desperation or hopelessness- call them loser pheremones because for the duration of the cooking course Kirsty looked confident and competent whereas I looked a buffoon. And you know how it is...if someone is convinced you will spill the bottle of water, you do. If they look like they know you will burn the duck then thats just what will happen. F#ckers.
Anyway, we learnt chinese cookery to a half decent standard and we thoroughly enjoyed it. Especially eating our creations. We even bought a cleaver with little to no thought of the impending Thai customs.
Later that day we enjoyed one of the most arduous hours of our lives learning kung fu from a former tutor of shaolin monks. For the savante among you we need only say that we spent the best part of an hour in horse stance. Just us and the instructor while he drilled us in the basics. To his credit he was a perfect gentleman but he was just so ridiculously fit and flexible that we looked like idiots the whole time. We did ask him if he had ever seen anyone from the UK who was good at Kung Fu to which he replied with an embarrassed smile as though to tell us the full truth of our mother land`s inadequacy in the martial arts would be more than we could bear.
As we staggered to the door he gave us the good news that the pain in our legs would subside after just 4 days.
That wonderful eve we boarded our last overnight train where we comforted ourselves with nescafe instant coffee and i spent 5 hours pretending to be Jason Bourne. Unfortunately when morning came I was just some bloke who had stayed up too late reading. Bugger.
The first evening in Hong Kong was the farewell meal. It was eventful as ever which is to say we attempted to get covertly drunk but that tactic was somewhat overwhelmed by an impromptu market shopping spree right in the middle of prime time drinking.
Before we go any further let us say that to go on a pub crawl organised by a non drinker is a fools errand...before you know it you will be drinking chocolate milkshakes in a nondescript hotel room at 2am listening to chinese pop though just 4 hours before you were getting ready to sink your 3rd San Miguel.
This blow was softened slightly by the fact we got a free upgrage to a deluxe room. I have no idea why intrepid (our tour co.) dont ask for double rooms for couples...maybe its too difficult to arrange in advance but I like a challenge so I thought Id try to get us some freebies. By which I mean Kirsty didnt like the room so sent me downstairs to beg.
Either way it worked and we were upgraded to a deluxe within the hour netting us a sofa, coffee table, desk and double bed within our suite. Huzzah!
The next day was the departure day for our tour though most people had an extra day or two booked. We went for Dim Sum which was nice and then spent the day trying to work out how best to satisfy the arcance directives of the post office so we could send stuff home. Task completed we went to the Temple Street night market to buy wheels for our cases along with padlocks, a knife and a few other things we presumed only Indiana Jones would need to pack but in actual fact appear to be indispensable.
The day after that (errr no idea which day it was) we went to victoria peak, cleverly choosing a national holiday to go on so it took an hour just to queue for the tram. The view from the top was spectacular and we were lucky enough to run into two religious concerts on the way back to the star ferry which were pleasant in their own enthusiastic ways.
The star ferry was a high point, the breeze was very nice and the boat offered fantastic views of the bay. On the way home we went to kowloon park which had both a mcdonalds and live flamingoes- when will the trustees of the racecourse learn that those two make an unstoppable combo?
After all of that we went and caught the plane to Thailand. But that, as they say, is a whole other story.
ALL THE PHOTOS HAVE NOW BEEN DIVIDED INTO MINI ALBUMS E.G. THE GREAT WALL, THE PANDA SANCTUARY ETC. GO TO 2nd Oct 2007 GetJealous has limited photo space but Snapfish is unlimited so use the following URL to see our pics:
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We arrived in Bangkok at Midnight on the 19th Oct. In case you didnt know, midnight is not the ideal time to land anywhere, least of all the land of ladyboys, and more recently according to the FCO website "indiscriminate terrorist threat".
Still, being the intrepid travellers that we are we did not let this faze us as we deftly blanked all the taxi touts by the luggage carousel and went to talk to the officials at the government taxi desk. Naturally we still got ripped off but being British we accepted it without complaint- afterall, the official was polite and even had a name badge on.
Later in the mean streets of Bangkok we would come to realise that its inevitable to overpay for everything in the capital and that we were lucky that our first experience of it was so cordial.
Regardless of the above after a long drive down deserted motorways we arrived at our hotel in record time. At least that was what would have happened if the bloody driver knew where the hotel was. As it was just of the Khoa San Road he had no excuse but I suppose he got us there in the end. After 8 flights of stairs carrying 40kg of luggage between us it was time to settle into our new home for the next 8 days. Telly provided the perfect method by showing the end of Meet the Fockers followed by Superman Returns, the mini bar did play its part too...
The next day we went downstairs for our free breakfast which was very nice- while we were eating we listened to the first rendition of the Bangkok song "taxi, taxi, where you go, where you go NOW?" which apparently is the locals way of passing the time. After 6pm it changes slightly to "taxi, tuk tuk, Ping Pong SHOW?" but as our new German friends have recently confided in us why would you go to watch a table tennis match when you could go drinking. PMSL.
Anyway after breakfast we went back to sleep for a few hours (those sweet hours of air conditioned heaven are but a beautiful memory now but more on that later) and then went to the Khoa San Road to see what all the fuss was about. The Khoa San Road does pretty much what it says on the tin. Its a long street (pedestrianised) lined with market stalls selling amusing fake IDs, offers of hair plaiting and braiding etc., food, clothes, bootleg items of every nature and these are all interspersed with restaurants, coffee bars and internet cafes. We walked the length of it by the time we finished we had been offered 5 suits and about a thousand cheap CDs- most amusing. According to our guidebook the KSR gets better at night so we went to the hotel for a bit to craft some more diary entries for this amazing blog.
The guidebook is correct, is does get better at night for 2 reasons- firstly the police patrols which are executed at random times and cause a lot of the stalls to instantly disappear- most amusing when one is just finishing ones 5th White Russian and the seat is literally taken from under you by a breathless Thai man desperate to avoid the authorities. Secondly the best food stalls come out and its possible to get a kebab for 30 pence. Sweet.
The reason for the dismantling of the bar was that it was totally unlicensed and illegal. Its advertising on a sandwich board read "Cheap strong cocktail. Cheap Beer. We do not see ID Card". The perfect spot for a few snifters.
We spent the whole evening people watching and chatting to a nice couple from Holland who we shamelessly pumped for information whilst trying not to look like complete amatuers ripe for abduction.
Kirsty is insisting that I write about being humiliated by a 10 year old. There is a kid on the Khoa San Road who sells roses who I thoroughly enjoyed telling that I had no intention of buying a rose for 20 baht or 2 baht.
He then challenged me to a thumb war...foolish child obviously didnt realise who he was messing with. Naturally 10 seconds later we were 20 baht poorer and the young scamp disappeared into the night- reappearing only every 5-10 minutes to laugh piercingly in my direction forcing me to relive the humiliation all night. Little @###~.
In the morning we woke to find that we had forgotten to apply mozzie repellent and could now boast over 35 bites between us. Mine went down after a day or so but Kirsty`s looked so bad that we took pics (they will be posted soon for the sympathetic or callous among you to admire) and were forced to visit a pharmacist who relieved us of 2500 baht in exhange for no less than 5 different treatments including 300 vitamin B1 tablets that make you stink of marmite.
After the freebie breakfast we buggered about all day and then went to bed.
The next day we found alternative accommodation at a guesthouse called Merry V which had possibly the hardest bed in the world along with a most disagreeable guest who objected to my practising thai prounciation at midnight. Miserable git. Still, it was only 2 pounds fifty a night and the poached eggs were awesome. We discovered that night that a favourite ploy of local bars is to show western films on the big screen free of charge as long as you buy a 30p milkshake. Bargain.
Bangkok started going downhill the next day when we walked to the thai boxing stadium where we were informed that entry was 500baht (8 quid) for thais or 2000 baht for foreigners (each!) so we enjoyed strolling straight home again stopping only to argue with, sorry, barter with a tuk tuk driver who obviously thought a lot of his driving prowess judging by his prices we half expected to be taken home in a friggin limo.
The next day we went to the zoo after an enjoyable half an hour being offered tours of his mates shops by a local tuk tuk driver. The best thing was that we walked away from him when his price was too steep but he then ran after us and accepted the offer. We then proceeded to be ignored, in a most childish manner, by this miserable bastard driving the tuk tuk who had to be at least 50 years old but obviously wasnt above being a whiny little boy when the mood took him.
Arriving at the zoo we were again confronted with the thai attitude to tourists when to get in as a foreigner is over triple the price that a local pays. Still, when you get to a zoo that boasts everything from snow tigers to hamsters you simply have to go in. We paid 50 baht to get to the zoo so naturally we were somewhat suprised when we came out of the zoo and a tuk tuk driver offered to take us home for 250 baht. How he kept a straight face we`ll never know. Halfway home we had the same tuk tuk experience. A driver reluctantly took our very reasonable offer and then proceeded to sneer at us in the rear view mirror the whole way home. AAARRRRRGGGGHHHH. Obviously we have not yet let it go.
The next day we went to the Grand Palace which is apparently the best sight in Thailand. Maybe so if you dont actually go anywhere else. In fact the Grand Palace is fairly hum drum- the exhibits of the crown jewels (no sniggers please) lacked the explanations necessary to pique our curiousity and the buildings themselves were as impressive as befits a palace but nothing particularly special. Of course after a tuk tuk driver had spent half and hour trying to scam us before we even got there we probably were not in the mood to appreciate it. We also had another "biggest waterfall in asia" moment. You may or may not have heard of the emerald buddha one of the "highlights" of the palace. Wow, you think, a 3 foot high buddha carved from a single piece of emerald must sparkle like a thousand diamonds and be worth a king`s ransom. That may well be so but the clever thais only tell you when you get to the door that they call it the emerald buddha because it is green- its actually carved from Jade. Is there a person on earth who does not know what colour jade is? I wish they would just say, the jade buddha sounds kind of low budget so we jazzed it up a bit. Fair play would be my reply. But they cant admit it. Just another little deception.
After our happy visit we took a river taxi home which was arguably the best part of bangkok. For just 30p each we took a seat on the little ferry which motored up the river from pier 9 where the palace is to pier 13 where Merry V is. It took about 20 minutes and the boat was crammed with locals and even a couple of monks in their traditional robes. The breeze was really refreshing as it was about 35 degrees that day and the best thing was there were no other backpackers!
Anyway as soon as we got home we decided that we`d had enough of bangkok and people always short changing us or just blatantly lying to us to try to get more money from us and so we booked 2 tickets to Ko Chang just off the east coast of thailand basically opposite Cambodia. Good recommendation by the way Ben!
Sawatdii and welcome to the Ko Chang diary entry. We have been in Ko Chang for something like 6 days now give or take and are currently staying at the Siam beach resort. We took the VIP bus from Bangkok to get here which took 5 hours but we were entertained by the family orientated 28 weeks later (which is friggin SICK by the way) and Pathfinder (which is friggin CRAP by the way) and a brief stop in a layby which must be the only layby in Thailand that sells tuna and cheese sandwiches. Contrary to the ubiquitous rumours we didnt have our luggage interefered with, noone stuck rohypnol in the water we bought and no, lonely planet, I dont think that the driver was on amphetamines. Thanks for the heads up all the same.
Arriving in Trat we hung around for 20 mins waiting for the ferry to start and I made the error of using the scales and then bothering to mess around with the phone calculator only to find out the inevitable- coconut milk curries are not weightwatchers endorsed. The ferry ride was most pleasant helped immensely by the on-board shop which sold amongst other healthier fare beer and prawn crackers- having been informed by the scales on the docks that dieting was pointless we dug in....
We got off the ferry and walked down the gangway onto the island itself and knew immediately that we had made an extremely intelligent decision. Or rather, we had blindly followed the advice of one Benjamin Gilkes and amazingly it paid off. Not to doubt your word Ben but by your own admission your thinking may have at times been clouded by the demon drink amongst other things but 10 out of 10 on the KC recommmendation.
Anyway- you (everyone not just Ben!) may or may not know (and you probably dont care) that the whole of the island is officially rainforest which means that the hills/mountains which make up 85% of the islands landmass are covered in a magnificent blanket of massive trees topped by mist while the views from the road that rings the island is almost uninterrupted blue sea and white sand. With the occasional building site thrown in.
We headed straight for the Treehouse which is a sprawl of bungalows surrounding a restaurant and bar that is very popular with travellers. This is when everything went slightly wrong...The Treehouse II has been constructed round the other side of the island and I personally believe that the Treehouse I has now given up the ghost.
No one spoke a word of English when we went (please bear in mind that the website for the treehouse points towards it being owned by an expat the English is so good), the Bungalows were tiny with no fans and the whole place was deserted. The place looked like it was staffed by the guys who last worked guarding the marajuana fields from The Beach. The restaurant looked like the only thing it served (to quote a dutch guy from our bus) was Fried Dreadlocks on a Bed of Ganja Leaves. Last but not least the bloody beach was entirely made of rocks. To quote the incredulous Dutch guy again "er excuse me, where is the sand?". We decided to leave quickly when the obviously stoned boss replied "you can walk that way to find sand". Cheers.
Anyway that was the last disappointing thing to occur on KC (except for one restaurant but we can discuss that later), we tried at first to hail a taxi to another beach which turned out to be prohibitively expensive so we settled for strolling up the road with a nice german couple we had just met to see what we could see as the saying goes.
The next set of beach bungalows we happened upon were at the Siam Beach Resort. Still on Lonely Beach this place is everything you could want. The bungalows are rustic enough for you to feel intrepid (rain on a corrugated metal roof will do that for you), they have showers (but as they are freezing cold though you have the convenience of your own bathroom noone can accuse you of being a western pansy), and most importantly they are 4 quid a night. Bargain.
Our bungalow, cutely named A11, is a stone`s throw from the beach- a really girly throw at that, its about 10 metres away from being submarine. We have a little porchy decky thing which would be perfect for watching the sunset if it wasnt perpetually covered in wet washing and if the bar wasnt located 15 metres to our left affording much better views of the beach and the ocean from its weathered wooden deck complete with palm trees that the deck has been built around.
Every night there is a huge barbecue with all sorts of meat, fish and vegetables on offer- all of which (and I know you want this level of detail...) come with salad AND garlic bread. Yes I would like a chicken kebab and a jacket potato and salad and garlic bread and a beer for 2 pounds 25p....CHEERS.
To complement the BBQ there is normally a little show on the beach usually involving someone holding a rope with two petrol soaked bundles on each end, lighting them and then twirling them round and round their heads and bodies in a show that would likely be instantly banned in the EU but acutally makes for rather cool photos.
Kirstys favourite bit of this guesthouse is the cats and dogs. No not the BBQ`d ones but the motley crew of tiny Suki like cats that spend their time begging for food, stealing your chair and generally acting like they own the place. They are owned by the bar and used as pest control but it is at first somewhat disconcerting to see maybe 15 of these tiny animals lurking about but you cant help but be won over when you come back from the bar to find that 2 of them have stolen your warm cushion. Thats another thing with this place, they dont bother with boring, stuffy old chairs. Its all cushions and mats to lie down on. Noone is pretending to be energetic here. In fact its rather frowned upon. As one bar owner amusingly put it- that hammock is Monday, I call that one Tuesday, and that one is Wednesday.
Bonjour again. You are probably wondering by now what we have actually done here. And believe us its been one hell of a rollercoaster ride as you will come to see...
The first night we spent eating BBQ food feeling obliged to eat as much as possible as it was cheap and also taking advantage of the 1st night feeling we get when travelling.
By the time you get somewhere you have invariably been traumatised in one way or another- in this case by watching Robert Carlisle gouge out his girlfriends eyes and then being ignored by an indifferent drug dealer in a slum rumoured to be the nicest place on the island- and so you can justify spending almost any sum on almost anything.
When we arrived in Bagkok I almost bought an IPOD pre loaded with 300 albums. Instead I settled for the shop kindly breaking my MP3 player but thats Bangkok for you. Anyway the point is the night was very nice listening to a heady mix of drum and bass and radiohead and we went to bed after midnight.
The next day (Saturday the blah blah of Oct) we had lunch with the nice germans we had met the night before. Hallo Steven and Anya if you are reading this...! S and A turned out to be thoroughly nice people which is amazing because pretty much every other backpacker is a tosser who thinks they invented self discovery and self contemplation. Dicks.
Anyway, S and A are very pleasant. Both went to University where they met- she is now a teacher and he is whatever you become after studying philosophy and sociology. It also helps that Steven is most amusing in the way that only someone who is speaking English as their second language can be. To save having to put all his quotes in context here are some of the best:
"Please forgive me, I am German, somewhere between animal and man"
(pushing a stray and possibly rabid dog to make it go away) "Have you seen Ong Bak? That was me!"
(watching Anya pot a ball at pool) "she has unleashed the beast"
(after losing at pool) "I think you have German genes, and I play pool like an Englishman"
"Do all English people hate Germans?"
Bless him. Anyway we had lunch with them (Pat Thai is fried noodles which you can have with shrimp or chicken and it has egg in it too along with nuts, lime juice, dried chilli and soy sauce. Yummy yum yum) and then reclined on the deck all day until that evening when we went to exploit the local bars tendancy to offer a first drink for free pre 10pm. On the way to the freebies we also spotted the Magic Garden which despite its name is not a hangout for crackheads.
Its actually a large bar with a bamboo hut style back room with 6 double beds in a semicircle facing a projector screen on which the fruits of lax copyright laws are shown nightly. (we have watched Terminator 2, the Devil Wears Prada, Scary Movie 4, Fight Club, War of the Worlds, the Bourne Ultimatum and Deuce Bigalow European Gigolo so far). It was showing fight club that night and as Chuck Palawhatsit is accused of nihilism and his stinking ideas are entreched in the movie that was good enough get Stevo interested.
The next day we lay on the deck after rising at the early time of midday. Naturally the more productive Germans had been up since 8. Fair play to them if you like that sort of thing we muttered to each other as we ordered lunch. After broiling in the heat for 2 hours and being left with patchy sunburn which made me look like "the milka cow" according to the Germans we retreated to the Bungalow to exclaim at our redness and to enjoy the horrific burning sensation of getting dressed after a cold shower with sunburn. That evening the Germans disappeared off to an internet cafe and so we watched War of the Worlds at the magic garden and went to sleep.
The next day Kirsty managed to overcome her aversion to snorkelling and enjoy an hour of it until my breathless high pitched squealing alerted her to the presence of a jellyfish and we fled the water like extras from Jaws. We ventured in again further downshore but the once merry atmosphere had been destroyed by the squidgy stinger of the deep so we decided to get a kayak.
Once again Kirsty braved the sea and got in the Kayak after giving it the sort of safety inspection that is normally reserved for NASA craft and she was soon into the swing of things, correcting my rowing timing for instance despite sitting at the front facing in the opposite direction.
After an hour`s Kayaking we realised two things- that firstly the current was strong and invariably took us 300 yards in the wrong direction with remarkable ease and secondly, rowing is only fun for the first 10 minutes after which it oscillates between being boring and frustrating. After our hour was up we vowed to never repeat it.
That night we played pool with the Germans and showed them that if something requires a minimum of athleticism the English are likely to be awesome at it. 4-0 ha ha. Along with pool we decided to drink a ridiculous amount which left us singing on the beach at 3am listening to tunes by TOOL, an apparently famous band according to the Germans.
The next afternoon as I lay slumped against a palm tree rubbing my face with the frozen glass my coffee milkshake arrived in the germans stopped by claiming I had come up with the fabulous idea of the four of us exploring the mini islands off the coast of Ko Chang in 2 kayaks. Stevan further explained that he had felt a little off colour when he got up at 8am (I rose at midday) but that after a jog, a stroll into town, breakfast, winning the Nobel prize etc. etc. he was now fine. Git.
I thought quickly and diverted them for an hour. While Kirsty spent the hour mentally tallying the likely cost of my imminent hospitalisation for alcohol poisoning I spent it in positive self talk. After an hour I thought why not and the whole bloody saga kicked off.
I still maintain that we had a slower canoe than they did as the lesson that I previously learnt in France was reiterated for us both. If someone is from another European country its almost guaranteed they will be fitter than you. And so it came to pass. The Germans went whizzing off, covering in 15 minutes the same distance it took us 35mins to cross the day before.
They arrived at the first island in high spirits. We arrived at the first island in a terrible state. Never before have I experienced a hangover in 35 degree direct sunshine, the previous days sunburn still itching beneath my t-shirt, being forced to row, and row and row to keep what absurdly pathetic momentum we managed to build up against the undertow.
Regardless- we had arrived. Only to be told that this was not the snorkelling paradise we thought. See over there...? Thats the one marked snorkelling on the map said the Germans. And off we went. 40 minutes later we arrived at the snorkellers paradise with me nearly in tears and suprised Kirsty was still wearing her engagement ring considering the pathetic sweaty mass she is betrothed to had spent the whole time complaining about the heat, the sweat, the sea, the oars and the Germans rowing prowess.
The island was wonderful though. There was a thai couple with their baby feeding the brightly coloured fish at the waters edge (with bread, not their child). There was an old rope swing swaying in the breeze and a really narrow beach, just enough to scrape the kayaks up onto really. It made the rowing worth it just about! Kirsty was brave from the day before and ventured in....an act of courage somewhat hampered by the 400 or so fish congregating at the waters edge but once you were through that fishy barrier you were ok.
I am no sea life expert but I recognised at least 20 characters from Finding Nemo that afternoon. After an hour or so snorkelling and a horrific 5 minutes where Kirsty was convinced the fish were trying to kill her (I have yet to see evidence of the "bites") we started the trek back. I nearly laughed when, upon reaching our bungalows, Steven said he had found the last kilometre difficult.
That night a rather subdued foursome went for pizza at a Thai restaurant we now frequent daily. The owners ex boyfriend was half english half italian so the food is fantastic. We has the 3 course halloween menu (on Oct 30) for less than 5 quid each. It was very very good. After pizza the evening ended perfectly watching T2 at the magic garden though this was somewhat interrupted by the sudden onset of mild sunstroke for me leaving me with a burning fever though I was freezing cold and feeling like I would pass out at any minute. Note to self- dont kayak thousands of metres in the roasting hot sun with only half a litre of water and a killer hangover.
The next day (tuesday) the germans left for their 10 days in a monastery (food twice a day, meditation, no telly, no books, no talking- weirdos!) and we sat on the deck all day reading. At night we ate the aforementioned three courses and then sat in the internet cafe trying to write what is turning into the most detailed blog in the fricking world.
So far today we have tried to slightly turn over a new leaf. I got up at 7.30 and went for a jog and we have been for breakfast. I think that we will go and eat lunch now. Please do keep leaving us messages- check in soon to see how tomorrow`s elephant trekking goes!
J + K xx
After an uneventful evening slobbing about in the Magic Garden watching god knows what and troughing through Ritter Sport bars like they were going out of fashion we walked home wondering what riding an elephant would be like!
The next morning at 8.45 sharp we had finished our jam on toast (the bright blue sea behind us went unnoticed) and were waiting for the lunatic (sorry, driver) to come and pick us up. It only took about 15 mins to get to the sanctuary- one of two on the island. Everywhere sells tours with these two so we were hoping that the elephants wouldnt stick us in their mouths or gore us. Not before we got some pics anyway.
Our elephant was called Khammee (female) and she had what was basically a two seater sofa strapped to her back. We climbed up to a bamboo platform in order to step straight onto the sofa while the guide sat directly on her neck and tapped his pointed stick meaningfully against his thigh- whether for the benefit of Khammee or us we werent sure.
Khammee walked for about an hour, passing through a little forest, a pomelo orchard and then some more forest- all of which thrilled us as their nothing quite like strolling about the countryside on an elephants back. Some of the scenery was amazing, we were completely enclosed in a forest with strange trees that didnt grow more than about 10 feet tall but they were bright green and the whole of this wood was surrounded by mini mountains, when we looked back it seemed like the gap where we came in had closed. It was really exciting. Eventually after about an hour we came to the crystal clear rockpool that they make a lot of on the brochures.
The brochures dont exaggerate. The rock pool is a 7 metre wide quiet part of the river that flows through the forest- the water really is crystal clear and I looked very keen to swim in it when I jumped straight in- though in actual fact I slipped on the rocks and slid down a five foot rock wall into the river.
Still I recovered quite well and managed to make it look like I am just always desperate for the next athletic experience. Looking back on it I did have my shirt off so quite how fooled they could have been I couldnt say.
As I was the only one swimming in the rock pool Kirsty didnt fancy stripping down to her bikini only to dive into what she suspected to be a secret leech breeding ground so she worked the camera for a while before gamely wading in up to her knees.
When one of the elephants decided to take a dip Kirsty and I did regain some of our fear- when there are no elephants one is free to exclaim about how clear the water is, how bright the sunlight and how pretty the trees are. Once you add a swimming elephant into the equation our typically british minds start considering whether a paddling elephant breaking your spine is covered by the insurance and just when was the last time that elephant was washed?
Kirsty`s expression was priceless as the floundering elephant made a beeline for her whereas because I was behind the elephant and safely downstream of it I was free to act nonchalant as though bathing with an elephant were no more interesting than if I were there alone.
We both gamely patted the trunk of the elephant when encouraged to do so by its handler. The trunk of an elephant feels like a very soft hairy leather cushion- though this particular cushion could no doubt hold you under the water until you ceased breathing should it decide to and based on this reasoning we both kept as far away as possible whilst still being able to show off to the others how comfortable we felt.
Once the bathtime was over for all beasts invloved we climbed back on to the sofa and set off for the return journey. About 10 minutes in the handler clambered backwards onto our sofa and prodded me off to sit on the elephants neck.
At this point my facade composed mainly of crocodile dundee memories and parts of George of the Jungle started to crack and I wondered if our guide understood all the expletives that I strung together in a high pitched whine as I bumbled about trying not to go headfirst off the side of Khammee.
She felt like she had a very narrow neck and unfortunately for her the only way for the inexperienced elephant rider to sit comfortably is to lean forward into a half pressup position with one hand on each side of the massive head. Khammee gamely struggled on, having obviously met half wits before, and tried to keep me on her back by pinning her ears back as I nearly slid off first to the left and then to the right.
The walk back seemed to go through different territory and we passed a little village of hut people who were busy hanging out their washing whilst children whizzed about on motorbikes.
When we got back to the elephants stables (??) we had the chance to feed Khammee some bananas which she seemed very partial to and was visibly deflated when these ran out. We only managed to convince her we were not hiding them by letting her half hoover up the empty wicker basket. Feeding an elephant is probably better than riding it as its much nicer to offer it some sustenance than the slide about all over its back and wonder how pissed off itd have to be to just roll over and crush the annoying fat white man on it.
In the evening of that day we ate at the nightly barbeque that is put on by the Siam huts and watched the sunset (pics in Kochang 2).
The next day (our last full day in KC) we decided to rent a motorbike (no insurance, sorry mum!) and go to Bang Bao the fishing village on stilts recommended by the illustrious Mr Gilkes again.
We got off to a wobbly start having never ridden a 125cc before let alone one from the bright orange "Shittee" range released by Yamaha around the time Shakespeare first picked up a quill. As you may be able to tell we are still slightly unnerved by that particular day. It was kind of cool though buzzing about the island on our own wheels as one of the first things you miss when travelling is the freedom of having your own car.
On the way to Bang Bao we had several exciting experiences. The first was when despite me turning the throttle to 11 the power of the damn thing was insufficient to actually crest some of the hills so Kirsty got a free power walking workout. The second was the realisation that gasoline is sold in litre glass bottles kept in direct 35 degree sunlight by the side of the road. Lastly we enjoyed a life threating 5 seconds as I noticed a large snake coiled in the road which I had no choice but to mow down hoping it couldnt bite me quicker than I could squish its head with the front wheel.
At Bang Bao we paid our 10 baht parking fee and messed about in the shops which surround the pier as it goes further and further into the bay. We had a traditional lunch of cheeseburger and chips with an iced mocha and pottered around the souvenir shops deciding in the end that if we bought something for one of you, we would have to get something for all of you and we are not made of money goddammit (Kirstys words not mine)
After realising we had risked life and limb to go souvenir shopping and that if this was still a traditional fishing village we would eat our collective hats we decided to pop our cracked helmets back on our heads (the puzzled look on the bloke at the bike shop was priceless when K asked for helmets) and buzz off back to the beach where we were living.
That night we had our last dinner at the Joy Cottage, saying goodbye to Joy herself who had expertly wheedled cash out of us simply by being pleasant and not jabbering incomprehensible Thai at us when we wanted to order.
In the morning we took a taxi to the pier to catch the VIP bus back to Bangkok. But that as they say is another rooftop swimming pool story and you will have to wait for it.
Ps the sausage munchin comes from the bangkok bit by the way- its not an admission of anything.
xx
If there is one Thai dish unanimously adored by the English its Bangers and Mash. Or is it Yellow Curry? Either way we only concerned ourselves with the former on this visit to the wonderland that is Bangalumpo (the backpacker mecca of Bangkok- or slum depending on if you are an STA brochure or someone partial to describing reality).
After having stayed for a week or 8 days or whatever it was in the end in KC we decided that the trauma of living in a beachside bungalow with its own verandah meant that we were almost entitled to stay in a ridiculously overpriced (by Thai standards) hotel.
Upon arriving in Bangkok we swanned around like royalty knowing that in this place our extravagant 15 quid could buy us a room almost anywhere. There is something very comforting about having a savings account filled with money that has solely been marked for mundane activities- buying beer, eating too much, random frittering etc.
Take for example Phimei (where I am writing this and you will be reading about in around 10k words), there is a place where you release little birds from cages for luck- they cost 10 baht each and there are hundreds of them.
But of course 10 baht is only about 15p. I was tempted as a decadent westerner to simply withdraw 50 thousand baht (400 pounds) and then stand like st francis of assisi as birds billowed forth from my robes which in my head would be flowing gently in the wind while all the Thai people stood watching in open mouthed admiration at my generosity and kinship with the animals.
Anyway, the point is that 15 quid here is enough that you can look around rooms in several hotels finally settling on a modest place with just air con, satellite television, 600 rooms and a rooftop swimming pool and still have 3 quid change. Booyah indeed.
Settled in the hotel, we had our first hot shower which we both agreed was a novelty after two weeks of freezing water. We also turned the air con on full blast to the point where everything in the room was covered in a thin veneer of ice. Of course this allowed us to climb into bed (blankets provided!, you dont get blankets in hostels!) and switch on cable telly where we passed uncounted minutes watching the Antiques Roadshow in French and then Chinese MTV.
After this we wandered downstairs to be met with the welcome sign of "Oh my Cod" the English cafe we hadnt noticed on our previous visit. This place is actually owned by a Brit and he provides, amongst other things- Bangers and Mash, Fish and Chips, Marmite on toast, PG tips in massive mugs, tinned tomatoes, proper boiled eggs and decent sarnies filled to bursting with proper cheddar. Noticing these disgusting items we immediately went to a street vendor for fried noodles. Or did we wolf down huge gravy soaked plates of reconsituted meat with potatoes? I dont recall but either way we slept for 8 hours in the kind of deep slumber only mountains of mash can induce.
The next day we wandered around Bangkok noticing that having a better tan doesnt scream "fresh off the plane" as much as the milk bottle legs we had on our first visit and so the tuk tuk drivers are not quite as fierce (approaching bartering as a type of combat is their normal pasttime). By wandered around Bangkok I actually mean we headed straight for OMC for cornflakes and full fat milk (albeit UHT).
Deciding to get organised rather than just read the photocopies of The Sun until it was time to order a pint of gravy for lunch we went to the travel agents next door to try to secure tickets to Pak Chong, our next stop on the way to Khao Yai national park.
Being a Thai travel agent they started out with an explanation of just how lucky we were to have stumbled into their particular office- according to them almost any other agency in BKK would have ripped us off, if not cut our farang throats and left us in the river.
However, we had chosen wisely and they could provide train tickets to Pak Chong for the following day. At this point they switched their speech to the cadence of a thai explaining prices and in about 3 seconds had explained all the terms and conditions of rail carriage and had extended their hand for 600 baht. As we always do when faced with a thai demanding money in an office we meekly handed over the cash and slunk out with instructions to return in an hour to pick up our tickets
For the rest of the afternoon and evening we messed about on the Khoa San road feeling invincible as we ignored any shouts from taxis and tuk tuks and drank starbucks like locals. That night after a delicious chicken tikka we congratulated ourselves on two days well spent.
Pak Chong to follow!
We caught the train to Pak Chong as lonely Planet reckons the bus is simply a thieves hideout and that the drivers are on amphetamines (LP is quite pessimistic in this respect though I guess they think that they tell it like it is).
The train was quite pleasant though getting to the train station was an ordeal. Our travel agent told us not to pay more than 70 baht for a taxi so natually all hell broke loose when the taxi driver looked us right in the eye and offered to do it for 300 in a tone that implied we were lucky to catch him in a good mood and it might well have changed to 1000 baht by the time we arrived at the station.
Muttering under our breath we walked on only to be accosted by the friendly tuk tuk man who had taken us to the palace previously. He only insisted on overcharging by 30 baht so we got in feeling very pleased with ourselves while the abandoned taxi driver busied himself assembling his crossbow and taking aim or whatever it is Thai taxi men do when you snub them.
Anyway, 2 delicious thai dishes and rice later we got on the train feeling nauseous but happy to be out of the boiling sun and into the air conditioned bliss of the carriage. Alighting some hours later at Pak Chong (why build a railway that can only handle 20mph trains?) we were met by the guy from the Green Leaf Guest House who gave us and some Dutch people a free lift to the guest house saving us the trouble of bartering with a tuk tuk. The Green Leaf place is family run and offers tours to the park aswell as a mini restaurant serving fantastic curries and the rooms are only 200 baht per night (3 pounds 20) with ensuite cold showers.
We chose to do the 1 and a half day tour for 1500 baht (20 quid) which meant that instead of relaxing over lunch when we arrived we were actually bundled into the back of a pickup truck and taken to a local rockpool for a refreshing swim. Sadly enough there were no elephants in this one but there were sharks and tigers in an adjacent pool according to our guide.
After the swim we went to look around the local bat cave (which I never get tired of saying) which was down some suitably steep and dank concrete steps. The caves were most impressive though we were suprised and disappointed that there was no weird sunlight deprived kebab seller down in the catacombs- however there was guano aplenty which the guide insisted we sniffed (smelled rather than snorted that is).
We saw several baby bats hidden in holes in the rock and I enjoyed the sensation of a scorpion spider crawling on my arm whilst the guide giggled at my barely restrained hysteria. We learnt how to make gunpowder from guano and that Jim and Steve (two bats) were the guides favourite two bats who obviously enjoyed being stared at by millions of farangs daily.
Upon completion of our underground tour (which I spent wondering if our insurance covers being consumed by thousands of irate spiders) the guide handed the scorpion spider to another tour group assuring them in broken English with an enigmatic smile that if it bit them they would have 2 hours to get to hospital. Giggling madly (the guide not us) we ascended the steps out into seemingly blinding sunlight and trekked into the corn fields to get a good view of where 2 million bats would soon exit the cave.
While we waited in the field the guide passed around pineapple chunks which were much appreciated and we tried to ignore the other tour groups half a mile further down the road.
As the light dimished and it became more dusky the first of the bats began to fly out of the cave and follow the ridge line of the mountain. It was a fascinating sight made more exciting by the sound of 4 million wings beating and the rapidly fading daylight mostly provided by a wonderful pink and purple sunset behind us.
Watching the 2 million bats exit the cave and create a swirling ribbon of black dots across the sky was mesmerising and you only notice how long you have been craning your neck to see them when the cramp hits. As the bats fly past in almost perfect rows the guide makes a hissing noise and the whole line bends away from it in unison- in a few years time the guide will probably have them doing a Red Arrows type display if he works on his hissing skills.
After the day officially turned to night we followed the guide back to the road along a rough track where for some interesting minutes we were forced to proceed without the benefit of torch light as it might anger the giant hornets which lived in the tall grass to one side of us.
We all climbed back into the truck and bounced down the road to a place where the guide knew we could spot some of the less common giant geckos and where we learnt the piece of wisdom that if you lodge a house gecko behind your ear it is powerless to escape (photos to follow!).
After all the excitement we went back to the guesthouse and had a very satisfying dinner made all the more satisfying by the good value beer the place stocked.
We met a few of the people from that day`s tour and some who were coming along the next day. Steve and Tracy were a couple of accountants from England on a career break- they were extremely nice people and we chatted to them for a while and learnt the names of some of the other people in the group- some of whom should always have the suffix "most irritating and arrogant f*cker in the world" attached to their names to give people advance warning of what they are about to endure.
Anyway- idiots aside- the day was most pleasant and was rounded off with a few chapters of our books followed by 9 hours of solid sleep on my part and around 3 hours broken sleep on Kirsty`s, thanks in part (according to her) to the freezing temperature of the room and some "animal noises outside I didn`t like the sound of".
Full day safari details to follow later!
We rose at 7am only to spend a day with possibly the most annoying individual in the world and then fall asleep exhausted from the ordeal of suppressing the urge to commit quiet murder in the beautiful rainforest, the pristine silence of which would only be disturbed by the dull thud his lifeless body would have made as it slumped down against a tree or maybe by the series of thuds the cadaver would have made as it bounced from rock to tree stump on its way down to the bottom of a gloomy ravine.
Oops, sorry I am getting ahead of myself and there were bright points amongst the darkness...
Anyway, we had breakfast at the Green Leaf Guest House which was delicious and were then bundled into the back of the van again where, disconcertingly, our guide was waiting kitted out in leech socks, a camouflage jacket with a US ARMY insignia, combat boots and that disturbing grin that all the guides had perfected.
The pickup raced off toward the park and we sat in that sort of uncomfortable silence you get when you are touching knees with 8 people but actually only like about 3 of them- 2 of them may be convicts and some are just downright surly.
Not content with simply driving at a sedate pace into the park and to the point from which we would start our trek the guide decided to "mix it up" a bit in a style stolen from army recruitment videos- every 5 minutes or so he would yell something incomprehesible to the driver and then shout "go, go, go, quick, hurry" at us whilst leaping off the tailgate and barely suppressing his obvious urge to do a few commando rolls before erecting his telescope in a manner that suggested it was actually a bazooka.
Those were the fun times. The less exciting times were when we ploughed into the forest/jungle after him at a breakneck pace, rucksacks swinging wildly only to stumble upon him minutes later staring back at us from a small clearing generally holding something lethal- snakes seemed to be his particular favourite.
It was at this juncture that one of the group had his card marked by Kirsty and I. Deciding to be the big man on campus he gave the rest of us an impervious look as the guide handed him the bright yellow snake he had been holding.
He (the man from our group) actually had the gall to inquire of us (in an arrogant tone) "are you scared of the snake?"- at which point the snake turned round and bit him and he almost launched it into orbit as his simultaneously filled his pants.
You would think this would bring him down a peg or two but no- he glossed over his reaction and the fact that his horror filled eyes as the snake turned towards him would not have looked out of place in the opening scenes of saving private ryan and all he said was "i was quick- it did not bite me". Put those pants on a hot wash and you might be able to wear them in the future, loser, I wanted to say- but being polite, didnt.
Anyway- between the macho mans failed snake charming attempt we did spy some gibbons in a tree and we all enjoyed putting our leech socks on as each of us glanced nervously around the tarmacced road as though we were likely to spot armies of leeches advancing upon us, hypnotised by the smell of our adrenaline.
After this exciting start to the morning the pickup stopped at the side of the road, this apparently being the perfect spot of impenetrable jungle/forest for a 3 hour stroll. For the next three hours we slogged through an amazing melange of trees, vines, mud, thorns and humidity. Up hill and downhill with stops at very regular intervals to stand in petrified silence, afraid to break a twig and further disturb the wildlife which quite evidently had fled hours before as noise of our blundering carried through the area for miles around.
We did have an exciting encounter with a snake eating a bird whole- the process had only just started and like a man swallowing a big mac whole its jaws were open so wide that it had no opportunity to protest to us shoving cameras in its face and then oohing and aahing about it.
This was what I like to call "provocation part 2" of the day. For those of you out there who have not been travelling with people who like photography let me enlighten you to principle 1 of how not to be beaten to death by an enraged englishman. If I stop, and raise my camera to take a picture do not under any circumstances step in front of me to take your own picture before I have finished- and certainly dont do it over 15 times in 3 hours- this will only lead to unbridled hatred.
Also- while we are on the subject- do not talk so loudly that every single animal in Thailand cowers in a corner of the far southern coast and then moan when someone remarks under their breath that a certain sight is amazing.
Anyway, moving on, the trek itself was very entertaining though somewhat devoid of animals thanks to the aforementioned moron. We stopped by a little stream at one point and had some steamed banana in vine leaves with little raisin/bean things in it. We saw gibbons again chasing each other through the trees and we heard many an unexplained screeching that made our guide smile to himself secretly.
After the three hours of trekking were up we went for lunch at a bird hide just on the other side of the forest- the guesthouse very kindly provides a little man on a moped who brings you a takeaway container filled with food that is still warm though the kitchen is 30k from the place we ate the lunch. Of course the bloody idiot among us had a problem with not being asked specifically what he would like for his lunch- managing to overlook that it was tofu and stir fried vegetables chosen specifically for its compatibility with all tastes and religions though I guess worshipping yourself calls for a different dietary regimen.
After lunch we went to the waterfall that noone ever knows the name of but is famous for being the one out of The Beach. I swam in the freezing water while Kirsty took pictures and looked amused as I dragged myself semi comatose onto the rocks after 10 minutes dogged doggy paddling. There is something particularly refreshing about water just above freezing and I emerged in a much better frame of mind than when I went in.
From there we made our way by truck to the part of the park where elephants are known to congregate. The elephants certainly were impressive- one thing you forget about elephants is that they can push down trees and they certainly have no qualms about chasing a car filled with frightened farangs. One of our group emerged from the cab of the truck only to be met with wild screams of "get in, get in" as an elephant rapidly accelerated towards us. Naturally "he" would not shut the hell up (silence is best around wild animals) so I was forced to threaten to feed him to an elephant which quietened him down a bit and I dreamily contemplated telling him what I really had planned for him but decided it was probably best not to.
After laughing about nearly being killed by maurading elephants we all got a stern telling off from our guide who had the look of a man who came within seconds of losing his tour group in an elephant rampage and somehow having to cover up the whole affair.
We continued on at a more sedate pace and everyone tried to be calmer and more respectful but honestly- what do you do when you come within 25 yards of a trampling? You`ve got to smile about it havent you?
After the elephants the fun had not stopped. We screeched to a halt some 15 minutes later to see a massive python coiled by the side of the road (very impressive), we also saw some wild deer (also fearless) and some "weird cows" as Kirsty named them who could put you off steak for life.
We got back to the guesthouse after dark where I calmed myself down with 4 bottles of beer and Kirsty had a soothing hot chocolate. By chance Kirsty had been talking to another member of our group (a nice, quiet guy called Matt) who mentioned that there was a son et lumiere show coming up in Phimei in the next few days which would be worth going to.
Naturally Kirsty fancied the sound of this and so over dinner we made plans to take the bus to Khorat and then Phimei the very next day after settling our massive beer and hot chocolate bill.
Phimei is famous for several things- all of which you will hear about in our next installment.
xx
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Still...it is free!
Sorry to have taken a while to update the blog its just that, unlike for you, life is exciting for us and we are terribly busy restaurant hopping/going in the sea.
.Except for today that is, we are in Koh Tao a beautiful island made for snorkeling and diving. Quick tip for you- if 5 different internet sites say torrential rain in a place, dont just go anyway in the hope that optimism can bring sunshine. That said, it does provide the perfect opportunity to sit in a net cafe and send you all another exciting update!
WARNING- this post is not very funny as Phimai is a lovely place so there was next to nothing to get worked up about and lots of things to appreciate!
So...the day after the full safari we had a quick breakfast at the Green Leaf place and then piled into a truck for a free lift to the bus station. As is amazingly common in Thailand we were just in time for the bus and luckily for us some members of the group (I cant even bring myself to say which ones) were heading in the same direction so we will skip over the conversations on the bus and move onto the Khorat-Phimei connection.
The connecting bus was brilliant because it had a complete lack of irritating d*ckheads on it (other than me of course) and they gave out free cakes and coke (the drink). It was a typical Thai bus in that it looked like the buses you see in movies from the 80s, it had desk fans built into the ceiling and naturally it was showing a really, really crap film in Thai.
Bizarrely the plot of the film was a guy hijacking a bus with a revolver and then screaming indiscriminately at everyone. We were somewhat relieved when the bus dropped us in downtown Phimei and the movie was not a prophecy of things to come.
As soon as we got off the bus I assured Kirsty that I knew exactly where I was going and a short 30 minute walk later we finished my little detour and arrived at the guest house some 20 metres from the original bus drop off point.
We decided to use The Old Phimei Guesthouse as recommended by Lonely Planet (when LP says something is good you can trust it, being as how the books are written by some of the most jaded people on earth).
The OPG is built entirely of wood and is spread across two floors. The downstairs had a little self service kitchen, a big wooden dining table, internet access (30p per hour- its two quid an hour in Kho Tao), mats where you could get a massage and a little terracey bit with tables and chairs.
All in all it was magnificent and the lady who owned it, though not as impressed by our charades to explain what we wanted as other thais had been, was very friendly and an expert saleswoman.
The bedroom was large with a four poster bed and mozzie net- there were double doors out onto a little balcony (perfect for drying washing- sad what criteria we evaluate a room by these days) and down the hall was a shared shower/toilet.
As we are on an year`s exciting travel we decided to really cut loose and go mad. We went down the hall and spent over and hour in the shower room washing dust and sweat from what seemed like every item of clothing that we owned whilst listening to a constant procession of other irate guests try the door to the shower and then disappear off huffily when 20 minutes later we were still rinsing and wringing out our underwear.
Some time later when we were finished and thoroughly annoyed we went to a pub marked on the map that the guesthouse gave us free of charge and we enjoyed the best sweet and sour chicken that we have had so far on the trip.
On the way to the pub it was obvious that the town was gearing up for the sound and light show festival. There were loads of little straw roofed huts lining the main street which had been blocked off- the huts were market stalls selling loads of different Thai arts and crafts along with the usual selection of food stalls. It was quite exciting as everyone bustled about and so when we got to the pub we chose an outside table.
The main attraction in Phimei is the ruins of an old temple Prasat Hin Phimai (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phimai_historical_park) which, if you dont have time to read Wikipedia, is basically some old ruins set in a square of green parkland which forms the centre of downtown.
The pub we had our sweet and sour in was diagonally opposite the entrance to the ruins on a corner of two main streets. The point of this excessive description of the location is to explain why we were perfectly content to sit there for a while as we could see the markets in two directions and watch the colour of the stone ruins change as the sunset backlit them. Plus it was fun working out by the end of the meal that yes, every one of the waitresses was secretly a man.
As we finished eating,a baby elephant wandered past . Of course it wasnt alone, its handlers brought it into town each evening and for 20baht they would let you feed it a little bag of vegetable sticks.
After dinner it had gotten dark and so we presumed that the sound and light show would be starting soon in the ruins. We walked through the entrance to the ruins, expecting to be charged at any moment. We wandered over the Naga bridge which has the heads of eight cobras on it in the design of a cobra`s hood and traditionally represented the bridge between the real and spirit world.
Once in the ruins we saw the massive stage where people where already dancing and the obligatory deafening traditional thai music was wailing along with it. We set out our own plastic chairs from a big pile of them and sat back to enjoy the show.
The show consisted of loads of different "scenes" with an average of 50 dancers in each one and it was quite impressive. Slightly disappointed when it finished, we traipsed out and it was only the next day that we found out we had seen the dress rehearsal and it should have cost a 1000 baht. Nice.
The next day we sprang out of bed at 5am to the cacophony of fidgeting, shitting pigeons that had roosted under the eaves of the balcony. I have one word that describes my feelings about pigeons after this little episode and I cant repeat it on a family blog.
Anyway, several bouts of fitful sleep later we sprang out of bed once again and headed downstairs to hire some bikes for the quick jaunt out to Thailand`s largest banyan tree which covers an area of half a football pitch.
While I munched my toast Kirsty went to sort out the bike rental and after a lot of charades the woman disappeared for 15 minutes, returning with 24 eggs and asked us how many omellettes we needed. Somewhat confused we just pointed at the sign for bikes and the lady laughed, blatantly, in our faces.
We followed the map to the banyan tree and examined with some interest the cages of animals that the thai had set up in little rows. Apparently setting these animals free (for a small fee) would bring luck with each animal symbolising a different type of good fortune.
The array of animals is spectacular, from turtles to birds to fish and more. Of course, as the animals would be promptly recaptured that evening they really symbolised hopelessness and inevitability but smiling gamely I paid 20 baht for a tiny bamboo cage with an even tinier bird inside and enjoyed granting it freedom, however temporary.
As the banyan tree is set in an artifical lake which had recently been flooded we walked under it on a chain of concrete benches that were serving as temporary stepping stones and under the centre of the tree we found a little shrine to Buddha and the spirits including food and drink, joss sticks etc. Most disturbingly was the entire face of a pig of which we naturally took photos so look out for that on snapfish!
After we exhausted the possibilites of a flooded lake beneath a massive tree we retreated to a food stall which was at the top of an open hangar of food stalls all with massive, long wooden benches either side of a communal table and we ate delicious food for about 30p. Excellent.
We cycled back to town and tried to find the bus station, a search which became intolerably boring the moment it began and so we went to the bridge over the river on which it was rumoured dragon boats would race as part of the festival.
Unfortunately we found no boats but there was a weird, inbred looking fun fair which we rode through. Its the only time Ive seen people in balaclavas in Thailand. We rode through the fair and then around some fields for a while before admitting defeat and retracing our route back to the guesthouse.
That evening we found a nice pub called the Cat and Fiddle where we enjoyed fish and chips and chicken tikka plus a rather sad conversation with Roger who obviously thought that getting pissed alone in his very own pub/cafe in thailand was the height of enjoyment. Weirdo.
After dinner and elephant feeding we wandered about for a bit to see what all the thai stalls were cooking- you may not want to eat the stuff but its always interesting to see what they are up to.
A specialty of Phimai seemed to be intricate cakes and sweets that experienced cooks churned out with suprising speed. We sampled a tray of little oyster shell shaped sweets which tasted like hot marshmallow filled with cream and topped with chocolate sauce- delicious!
The next day was spent wandering about in a pleasant daze induced by Phimai`s lazy air and a 90 minute thai massage. We ate at the same pub as the first night though let us be the first to not recommend fried noodles Phimai style. This dish is a bastardized version of pat thai which is fried noodles with peanuts, chicken, egg and lime juice. Phimai added half a can of pureed baked beans, two spoons of sugar, some chilli powder and about three eggs. Urgh.
The following day we decided we had exhausted Phimai`s entertainment options and so after a morning`s pointless traipsing about we caught the bus back to Bangkok. The bus was faultless yet again, showing Bad Boys 2 in Thai but with English subtitles and they handed around more free drinks.
Arriving in Bangkok we took a Tuk Tuk back to the Khao San Road where we continued our adventures. Fans of disgruntled posts will be pleased to know Bangkok will not fail to hack you off at some point. We will write again soon when the internet is not a friggin rip off.
xx
The next day we got up early to visit the banyan tree. This is about 2km out of the town.
We got back to Bangkok fairly late into the evening which meant we had to solve two problems. Firstly, how to take a tuk tuk home without being consumed by rage at the bare faced cheek of the drivers asking price. Secondly, how to get accommodation in a city where if you are later than midday you dont stand a chance according to the lonely planet. Naturally as usual LP turned out to be a miserable bastard of a guidebook and the second place we wandered into turned out to have passable rooms and a downstairs bar that showed Friends constantly on a big screen telly. They also had hummus and falafel. Winner!
That night we enjoyed cheap internet access (hence some long blog posts) and watching 7 episodes of Friends back to back. The next morning Kirsty slothed around in bed while I went in search of lodgings more suited to people of our station.
After climbing a total of 30 flights of stairs in 7 different guesthouses I came across the Boon Sabai Inn which had the unique advantage of available rooms not on the 7th floor and having a bed that someone other than a monk would deem satisfactory. Unfortunately back at the old hotel Kirsty was late to meet me when I specifically told her I would be playing the coin operated PS2 hidden behind the pillar in the dining room but to this day she maintains I said the lobby (Salloways, you have raised a fibber).
That day was spent looking for tickets and deals to the Bridge over the River Kwai which is well worth visiting as you will find out in our next blog post. For those of you who care about the history of the bridge go here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_Railway- for those of you that dont, you should look, over 6000 brits died in the construction of the railway, the cemetary is a humbling site if you first see it while moaning about how tired or hungry you are and then are forced into uncomfortable silence by the realisation that you have probably never ever been tired or hungry in the true sense of the world.
Anyway, as is normal in Bangkok on your third visit we spent our time puttering about, buying books, complaining about the prices of clothes and laughing at taxi drivers when they asked us where we were from and yelled lovely jubbly or oy oy saveloy at us in their amusing thai accents.
On day 3 or whatever it was we boarded a mini bus to Kwai at 7am after a brisk, freezing shower at 6am- our preferred way to wake up on holiday, I`m sure you all agree with this. The bus arrived eventually and we enjoyed listening to some foreign bloke prattle on in the back about crap to two ozzie girls. We thought at that point that he was boring them to death or chatting them up but later we realised that they were in fact dull and miserable and he was desperately attempting to engage them in conversation about something...anything in fact but he had no luck. The driver was the usual for Thailand but obviously the ozzie girls had not been here long as we snoozed in the front seat while in the back they screamed and gasped.
A couple of hours later we arrived at a pretty little riverside house which looked like it rented out the waterfront bungalows that stretched to the right hand side of the property. The usual overly friendly, possibly high, Thai guide bounded out to meet us and the poor foreign chap from our bus was still making jokes frantically as the ozzies had obviously convinced him he was never going to get a friendly response from anyone, ever again such was their approachability.
The Thai guide led us down to the water and we boarded a large bamboo raft and were handed oars. The plan being to paddle 2 km downstream to a new temple to look around. The poor bastard who captained the boat did most of the work as the rest of us chilled out and looked at the scenery. It was a nice change after the ruins of Phimai to look around a brand new temple- this one was quite small and ornate in the style of a pagoda with lots of dragons around it and the chinese animal/year symbols in massive circular paintings on the floor round the outside.
NEW BIT STARTS HERE
After the excitement of the brand spanking new temple which was somewhat ruined by the Ozzie girls "swearing" to god that they were not going to row back, no matter what despite the fact that they told us at the start that we would meet the car at the temple. Anyway, the mad driver showed up and we whizzed off to the Kwai museum to be astounded at how many people died during the construction of the railway and how appalling the conditions were for them.
Naturally being seasoned museum pros we had the free coffee the ticket offered before looking round the museum- never go round a museum hungry or thirsty- you are much better letting the more annoying members of the group bound off ahead especially if you have remembered to dig a camouflaged pit-of-spikes that they cant help but fall into- sadly we didnt think of this before we were alreading munching toast and jam with hot nescafe but it did provoke a wistful smile.
After taking on the necessary sustenance I started my most annoying museum habit of reading every plaque, every notice board- pushing buttons on the dioramas (sp?) etc. This museum is excellent. A lot of the exhibits have been paid for by the sons of the constructors of the railway and so things like the model railway and the model showing it being built are fantastically detailed as is the full size medic tent you can walk around and peer over the "doctor`s" shoulder at the poor patient dying of various needless wounds inflicted by his slave drivers and they also depict with frightening detail the effects of malnutrition.
We enjoyed the walk around the museum, it is very interesting and really grabs your attention. Across the road from the museum is the cemetery for the workers who died (over 6000 of them). No offense to the other tourists but here are some quick directions for these cemeteries- no. 1- try to look like you give a flying footballer about what happened to these people rather than just like you have been forced into coming and are wondering whats for lunch.
After the cemetery we drove to see the steel bridge over the river- the trains run over the wooden one later in the day but the steel one is pedestrianised with lots of little souvenir stuff located nearby. Bizarrely its got quite a nice atmosphere to it- everything is quite sedate and respectful.
We bought a traditional elephant picture here made of stretched buffalo hide which they use a small hammer and pick to knock small holes out of in order to make a picture. Its most authentic. This is our Thailand souvenir for our house when we get back. We will try to get something from each country as we go round.
Once we had finished buying overpriced tat we went for lunch on a floating restaurant, which is to say it was served on a tethered bamboo raft. Naturally the Ozzie girls had some issues with it- they were veggie and expected to be worshipped, sorry- treated, as such.
After the lovely lunch we dropped the spanners off at the tiger temple. This temple does what it says on the tin- you can pet the tigers. There is scandal surrounding the temple as tourists claim handlers have confessed to drugging the tigers to make them docile whereas the temple boss says that they are docile because they are nocturnal and in the day they are very full from a nights eating. I dont know whether I think a tiger becomes docile enough for a human to put their fingers in its mouth whether or not they are raised from birth by monks. It reminds me a little of the panda sanctuary in China. Great, they are not extinct but now they basically only live in cages at massive cost to everyone involved while millions of Chinese people dont have healthcare or pensions. Interesting priorities I guess.
Once the dimlows were out of the car K and I along with the driver and the drivers wife and baby who he fancied bringing along for the ride drove about an hour to the north and went to a popular waterfall. The driver explained it was a national holiday so there were loads of Thais about and he would wait with his wife and child at the bottom while we explored. The waterdall was very picturesque flowing down the hill about 15 metres tall and ending in a lot of shallow pools around the bottom where children were playing. There were steps up to a wooded area at the top and so we gamely climbed up. We also enjoyed wandering around the food stalls at the bottom of the hill- seeing the colourful foods that were on offer.
After the waterfall K and I boarded the train for the 90 minute journey which culminated in a trip over the river kwai. I sat opposite some french people and pretended to not know what they were saying to each other though in reality it was quite mundane. The others got on an hour into the trip- unfortunately they had escaped unmauled.
The actual ride across the bridge was fantastic and to back track a bit I should mention that for the first hour of the train ride the carriage was deserted and as its made of wood and it travels through some lush terrain it was most pleasant. Once I fix the camera you will be able to see the pix- its so photogenic that you really can get shots of the bridge and the train that look just like the pictures you will have no doubt seen on tv.
Once the train had come to a stop we leapt off eagerly (which is to say we traipsed off fantasizing about pushing other passengers under trains to teach them the error of their non queueing ways) and boarded the bus back to bangkok which cunningly dropped us off half a mile away from the hotel.
That evening Barclays decided to ruin our evening by preventing us from withdrawing cash in time to get dinner at the Brit cafe. We had about a quid on us and after trying 10 ATMs we Skyped Barclays Fraud only to be told they had blocked our cards because "there`s a lot of fraud in Thailand", 10 mins later, cards unblocked we tucked into hummus and chicken pittas with salad and watched 4 episodes of friends.
The very next morning as we stumbled out into the bright sunshine of rambutri road we met the germans from Ko Chang wandering up the road. After finishing 10 days in a monastery and an overnight train + a 3 mile walk from the station to Rambutri it was a small matter to persuade Stevo to force Anya to watch Tom Yung Gun with Tony Jaa (a great martial artist) so while Anya made her excuses (some crap about laundry keeping her at the hostel 55 minutes longer than she had said she would take) Steven, Kirsty and I watched the awesome TYG with a cold Tiger beer.
After that it was another tearful goodbye as they went off to catch a bus as their visas were expiring and we went on the net and decided to book tickets to Ko Tao- a very rainy place it turned out. We did have one more day in Bangkok but it was so full of trivialities I wont bore you with it.
We did have fun buying a fake overpriced Ipod that it took 3 hours to work out how to use it. I tell you what, one day one of the smug, rip off gits on the Khoa San Road will hear K and I approach on a moped or in a tuk tuk and Ill jump out just long enough to punch his sanctimonious face and then we`ll be off in a cloud of diesel fumes. How satisfying would that be?!
Sorry its been a while since we have actually been in Ko Tao- we went there from Bangkok/Kwai. It was the usual enjoyable bus ride involving such souped up aircon that we nearly froze to death (I know what you are thinking- just close the vent, you would think that might work until the Chinese Water Torture started as you huddled under your thin fleece blanket- air con aficionados will know what we are talking about) and a strange restaurant by the side of an A road with no real way to place an order, or pay for it.
Also not helping us catch some zeds was the tremendous thunderstorm and the tendency of the driver to gently veer towards the central reservation and back again. 12 hours of sleepless terror. Cheers again VIP buses. After the VIP bus was an entertaining wait at a deserted Surat Thani pier. Just two hours in the middle of the night. Never mind- we were VIPs!
We arrived in Ko Tao after taking a ferry from Surat Thani. As usual it was hammering it down when we arrived but 10 minutes later it stopped and left the air thick and humid- always an entertaining weather condition when you are slogging about carrying bags. A friendly taxi driver drove us a few miles up the coast to a resort recommended by Lonely Planet.
As usual for Lonely Planet the recommendation was solid if unremarkable. A series of slightly upmarket bungalows facing each other across a packed gravel path/landscaped shrubbery made its way down to the shore, passing in the process the site restaurant (under renovation) and the reception. There was an option to stay beachside in a hut with no hot shower and no air con but honestly catch us after a VIP (ha ha) bus ride and we will pay anything for a decent shower and a room big enough to take your t-shirt off without fracturing your elbows on the ceiling and two walls simultaneously.
That first day we collapsed gratefully on the bed and slept for 4 hours and then another 2 whilst pressing snooze every 10 mins. We woke up in a better frame of mind and immediately settled in by buggering off out to find somewhere to eat. We went with a small family run place called Java and Juice who sold delicious western food at western prices. Chicken with tropical salsa and asparagus was very nice after breakfast was crisps and black nescafe at 4am.
After this delicious dinner we went back to the bungalow and made the most of our newfound zeal by doing all the handwashing- always a mammoth task when 99% of the time you simply cannot be arsed to even attempt it so by the time you do it involves one of us in the sink, one in the shower and at least 90 mins of lower back pain. Fun fun.
After I made a cats cradle from the bungee cords on the balcony and it was all hung up we decided it was dinner time and went to check out if anywhere showed films. One place did but that evening we also found that "Choppers" was actually a friggin dump which sold the worst food we have eaten since coming away and had the worst copied DVDs ever. What a disappointment. Still, the 7-11 sold San Miguel and we had an attractive tiled balcony fenced off with imitation bamboo tree trunks. Yum yum.
The next day was the start of the realisation that the bit of Ko Tao we were in was simply a collection of expensive western restaurants and souvenir shops. Still, handed lemons why not make lemonade? We hired a motobike (which was checked over like I was renting a friggin limo) and buzzed into town, going the wrong way down a one way street and being beeped at by the police in the process). We had a lovely salad as it was lunchtime. The restaurant was on the slope down to the harbour and it was very nice to overlook the street and people watch. Also the espresso was good.
We buzzed back and on the way saw a large plastic castle- part of a mini golf course. After a brief rest stop we zoomed back to this only to be informed it was 3 quid a person (outrageous compared to other thailand activities) and it was owned by a bit of a dick.
Still, never mind the course was excellent, even with the tropical downpour that rained us off for 45 mins and when we resumed play the holes were full of warm rainwater. After I kicked Kirsty`s behind at golf we watched a nice sunset to the side of the plastic castle and then went home again. After I went to the worlds hottest gym we ate at Java and Juice and K had the chicken again while I had the salmon and pesto. Then we got a little bit drunk on the balcony. Again. Exciting I know.
The next day we woke up bright and early and had a delicious breakfast of cremated toast with eggs a la sinkafterplateshavesoakedforhourswithcrummybitsofshitfloatinginit which was as nice as it sounds. We went to the gym after this and then later ate at a little bakery/brasserie which was fantastic. I think we then drank again on the balcony. Oh yeah, we watched the sunset too.
For a few days we pretty much wandered about complaining about prices but eating lavishly and then listening to the ipod on the balcony. Then we bought tickets on a night boat and went to Khao Sok. But that`s old news to you!
I hate skype! Thanks to Skype 300 words of beautiful wit and wisdom have been lost so you will have to imagine that you are now a) insanely jealous. b) rolling on the floor (PYSL for the im generation.).
Happy birthday to m salloway while we are here!
Anyway, I am going to write about Khoa Sok National Park before Koh Tao even though that is back to front but thats because the most memorable thing on KT was playing mini golf at some english dick`s golf course in the pouring rain. Hence we`ll start with Koh Tao where we experienced all manner of animals- even a geordie.
The journey to KS started most interestingly- we were transferred by the worlds fattest but strongest (yes, even fatter than me for the cynics among you) Thai man whose pickup eschewed the usual standards of comfort and went with the unorthodox method of having no seats and a soaking wet floor- still, I didnt let that bother me as Im sure you can tell.
Once we arrived at the port of Koh Tao to catch the night boat we caught sight of a rickety (some would say sh*tty) old dog of a boat and I distinctly remember thinking "I say, I hope that thai tramp is going to move his sewage transporter so the night boat can make port" at which point we jumped on board and a hobo spirited away our bags never to be seen again- at least until the morning.
We traipsed "upstairs" (a step ladder) and saw that the top floor of the boat boasted over 25 double mattress sized mats on the floor with just enough room to refrain from being inappropriate with the person next to you if you lied ram rod straight and didnt breathe. Interestingly whoever constructed the boat was obviously under five feet tall because if you top that dizzingy height you were refused the privelege of standing up straight.
Anway, we will gloss over the fact that there were loads of kids, a dog and a pregnant lady onboard and Germans who will not refrain from smoking, no matter what. Moving swiftly on, the next day brought breakfast in a quayside dive and a 3 hour minibus drive to Khao Sok where we stayed in "Our Jungle House" run by a semi retired German alcoholic with social skills issues. Arriving tired and dirty we toured the two treehouses and decided on tree house 1 (the honeymoon suite according to Klaus). If you want to see the treehouses etc. go to http://krabidir.com/ourjunglehouse/ and please do not snigger when they describe the jungle as "moist".
Tree House 1 was a genuine tree house and we both agreed it was unique and exciting. Built between two trees it had a mini bathroom with a freezing shower, a comfortable bed and massive windows on all sides that afforded excellent views of the limestone mountain and the river sok that literally was outside the door. It also had a roof top balcony accessed by some safety law contravening ladders and was similarly impressive and unique.
Of course the fun of the accommodation was somewhat offset by Klaus. Lonely Planet says that Our Jungle House is run by an affable Australian- nowadays however the inimitable German Klaus is definitely in charge and we suspect he may have the australian buried in the cellar.
Anyway the first bone of contention between Klaus and I was when I asked whether the lake tour or the day safari offered the better opportunity to spot wildlife. Without realising it, I had walked into a trap. All around us birds stopped singing and even Klaus`s dogs whined almost imperceptibly and snuck out.
Assuming his thickest German accent Klaus launched into his monologue " you people (what people, I wondered) always thinking you come here, you get in a vehicle and suddenly its champagne- elephants to the left, lions to the right, zebras to the front- you need to learn the law of the jungle- maybe the tiger sees you, but you will not see him! The animals hear the noise and they go!"
Mysteriously, minutes later he explained previous trekkers had seen black panthers which apparently are nothing more than leopards with black fur and if we didnt believe him, Klaus almost shouted with much venom, we could look it up on the internet at which point Kirsty and I and the other people in reception had to try to calm Klaus down before he took us all out with the Beretta that noone had any doubt was but a few centimetres below the counter and probably levelled at our chests at that very moment.
After a somewhat subdued breakfast (fearing for your life makes small talk difficult) we retired to the relative comfort of the treehouse and slept until the early evening. That night we went with Dang our thai guide and a couple of other foreign spanners into the National Park itself where my forged student ID saved me half the ticket price (and they say crime doesnt pay).
A two hour night safari with Dang was a night to be remembered. It must be said that nearly every thai guide has been superlative- they are mostly young men but whereas you might think they guide for a quick buck most are genuinely excited by the places they take you. For example, Dang stretched our tour to four hours in the end though he was only paid for 2 and kirsty was too tight to tip!
We took a roundabout route to the park taking in some local sights including a rubber plantation, banana trees, some frogs and other insects. This is what all the guides are like, they will not go more than 10 feet before they show you something and they are so enthusiastic that you forget how late it is and end up having a really absorbing time.
Anway we finally made it into the park and naturally the greek girl with us had remembered her fags despite being 15 minutes late and bringing no water on a trek, flyd. So off we went into the pitch black park which seemed to be constructed of concrete steps and little trails into the woods. We clambered up and down steps for 3 hours and on the way round we saw or heard the following: mouse deer, spiders, horned insects, poisonous toads, gibbons, snakes, bats and elephant tracks. It was very cool and Dang was very interesting with it telling us how he and his mates sneak into the park to hunt frogs which are prized for their meat. The forest was ridiculously humid and we were soaked in sweat by the end of the trek but it just added to the authenticity!
We staggered back to our jungle house at midnight, some people were still up playing backgammon but Klaus had shut the bar, he does this at 9pm every night though he leaves the lights on in case you want to read (P A R T Y!).
The next day we went on a 4 hour (turned into 6 hour) trek with Dang again into the jungle. This time the spanners pissed off on a full day`s trek and we ended up dragging the inimitable Paul Henderson, geordie extraordinaire along with us. (Paul, if you are reading this you should know we still regret missing out on that funky monkey).
The trek was as much fun as the night safari. The path we took winds up and down (very steeply at times) through the park and the variety of trees and plants along the way ( avoid the word flora to avoid looking like a pretentious dick) was amazing to see. We ignored the path closed warnings when Dang took us off trail to the side of the river where we paused to eat oranges and watch the monkeys in the trees.
After the river break we walked back to the rock pool nearby and swam for a bit. Kirsty overcame her fear of swimming in unknown environments and jumped in. We swam about for a bit and tried to look confident nothing was about to drag us under to our doom. Dang, nice guy that he is stepped in and took our photo when he overheard us arguing about who was going to get the camera (for the record, I lost this argument but D stepped in before I had a walk of shame back to the bag).
After the rock pool we went to a waterfall which we didnt really appreciate 5 hours into the trek, we looked impressed and then I think hungry and tired at which point the perceptive Dang asked if we had low batteries and promised to get us back.
We arrived back at Our Jungle House at 1pm regretting saying we would go kayaking at 2pm, Still, being intrepid travellers we didnt let being soaked in sweat and friggin knackered stop us going, that and the fact there was no refund.
At 2pm we took a pleasant jeep ride down some unpaved roads to a bridge over the ko sok river were we joined the jeep drivers brother for a ride downstream in his big pink kayak. Nice.
We floated down the river for the next 116 minutes with whateverhisnamewas piloting our big pink craft, the bottom of which sometimes scraped the bottom of the shallow bits. We spotted pythons relaxing in trees (did we really need to be directly under them to appreciate them?) and a lot of kingfishers on the way. The highlight of the trip was a torrential downpour, massive fat droplets that alternated between luke warm and freezing which in 10 minutes filled the kayak with 4 inches of water.
Once the kayak ride was over we climbed into a songtheaw (with the kayak) and got driven to a monkey school where we fed mini monkeys mini bananas- it was interesting to see the different personalities of the monkeys, some were quite snatchy while others were very much the old men of the group who politely took their food and wandered off at a sedate pace to enjoy it.
Back at the Tree House we had a shower and spent dinner time arguing as to whether we should attend a party that evening at the funky monkey, if only for the free tequila. Paul went and assured us in the morning that it had been great and only topped by a couple of hours silent dancing with his ipod when he got back. OK.
Our decision was based on the electricity being cut off twice during dinner and an impassioned, if inebriated speech by Klaus on the merits and usage of oil lamps after which his thai wife gave the most sarcastic round of applause we have ever witnessed. After Klaus drifted off into sleepy land we thought we would follow suit (in a different direction) and went to sleep wondering what our transfer to Ko Lanta would be like. Its one of the 39 things not to miss in the Rough Guide. We are writing this on Ko Lanta and it is amazing. But we have to go and drink beer now so we can tell you about it soon.
xx
Direct from Klaus`s loving care an enjoyable cramped minibus delivered us to Krabi, a place famous only as a stepping stone to better places. We met BB (big boy) a Thai millwall fan from Ko Lanta (where we had decided we would go) who very kindly relieved me of 4000 baht for tickets to Kuala Lumpur and 3 nights accommodation in the Top View resort in Ko Lanta.
The fact that I was penniless was no obstacle for the genial weirdo- he insisted on driving me to the atm on his moped which buzzed like an angry cricket as it raced along at 10kmph - he and i weighed a combined 210 kilos.
Still, we made it back alive and transferred to another bus to Ko Lanta where a free pickup from the Topview place picked us up and took us to the south of the island and up to the top of a cliff that overlooked the bay in one direction, and endless sea to the other.
I should mention at this point, and it will become clear over the course of this blog entry, that Ko Lanta is by far the most laid back, the most beautiful, the most fun and generally amazing place we have been to in Thailand and I have no doubt that we will return to it one day for another holiday.
It is named the island of smiles and whereas the smiles in bangkok usually preclude a date rape or just an indiscriminate beating, the smiles in ko lanta normally mean some poor bloke who you have never met before is about to fall over himself to help you in some way and at the same time try to convince you he is actually glad you interrupted his day. Perfect.
Unfortunately when we first arrived it was hammering it down. Normally the torrential downpours stop after about half an hour and the sun shines again however this day was different and it hammered down for 5 hours. Never mind though it stopped soon after we arrived and we trudged down the hill to see what the bay had to offer in terms of class A drugs, hookers and all night coffee shops.
The first thing we came across was a pickup with big billboards on the side showing adverts for thai boxing and what made it slightly surreal was a tannoy which announced that night`s fight show both in Thai and english but the english bit sounded like a cross between terry tibbs and a dalek- after the 20th repetition it was a little unnerving.
I asked a random bloke how we went about getting tickets and he said the best way was through Topview- they would sort it all for us. Naturally it turned out later that quite by chance he was the driver for topview so he ended up taking us there.
Before the Thai boxing started at 9pm we spent a pleasant evening in the Topview bar and their little enclosed tables on the cliff edge which make you feel secluded and able to enjoy the amazing views.
We will gloss over the 10 minutes where some dick at the table opposite turned off Fantasia that the Thai kids were watching when they went to the toilet and put Pathfinder on instead, a blood soaked pile of shit of a film that makes you want to kill the makers of it and then yourself its that depressing.
Still, nothing like a film that starts with the discovery of a rotting corpse to be family entertainment is there you vested, bearded, fucking nimrod.
Deep breath....we moved to the proper bar and away from the terrace and drank in peace...and mirth when the electricity failed and his crappy cinematic waste of time died along with the lights while the clever people in the bar chatted by candle light and drank cold beer. Ha ha ha you loser.
At 8.30 we left for the stadium, taking with us one of the little boys from the resort. Or rather, he accompanied the driver, we did not take him as collateral in case they went through our bags while we were gone. We are not sick. When we arrived at Ko Lanta Thai Boxing Stadium the path to the door was lined with food stalls and beer stands, interestingly selling stuff at higher prices than you would find inside rather than the other way round.
The night consisted of 10 fights starting with 8yr olds then moving up through the age groups until you saw the men of about 25-30 fighting. We saw at least three knocked out from knees to the jaw, one get his nose broken and a few others have a good go at each other.
There is an unwritten law in any performance of any kind that I will sit within earshot of an armchair expert so I got to listen to some skinny streak of wee with an irritating scouse/geordie accent tell his girlfriend in no uncertain terms that these guys were amateurs (missing completely that it was an amateur bout) and then, at great length, what they were doing wrong.
As far as we were concerned the only person at fault here, (to paraphrase Terry Goodkind) was this gimps mother for ever spending the night with his father. Never mind though, ever resourceful, i drowned out his bleating with a never ending pop-hiss noise of cans of beer opening- it was a tough job but I coped.
Half exhilirated and half nauseated we spent the ride home listening to the driver reminiscing about the good old days before he got seriously injured in a match and he could still chip his shin bones to pieces every Friday night.
The next day we rose bright and early at 1.30pm and staggered out to the best breakfast I have ever had in my life, ever. Not in terms of cuisine- Mum`s potato cakes or farmers breakfast is not so easily usurped, but my normal weekday lunch time view of the Halcyon table tennis room is blown away in Ko Lanta by an uninterrupted expanse of wonderful blue/green water all the way to the horizon to your left, right and front; behind you to your left are a selection of small fishing boats floating in the bay where small waves break on a gorgeous beach lined with unobtrusive cafes and watering holes.
The mini raised wooden platform with mini pillars and roof that you sit in, on traditional axe pillows at a weathered wooden table make the scene so much better. We could have sat quite happily, intermittently ordering food and drink and watching the waves break on the rocks below until the sun went down again. Obviously we didnt do that though- we had to wander down the hill and into town to see what else the town had to offer.
One of the greatest things about Ko Lanta is its beaches. The thing that sets them apart is that they are long. Some are over a kilometre long and normally they are straight, with shallow water and a good expanse of sand between the shore and the road/cliff. We set off down the steps that led pretty much directly from our door down to the beach where we thoroughly enjoyed a relaxing couple of hours reading and tanning (I snorkelled briefly but there was not much to see in the bay) after which we hurriedly clambered back up to topview to watch the sunset.
Cleverly I have chosen to use a thesaurus to describe it as I can only repeat amazing in a low tone of wonder so take your pick from awesome, fascinating, incredible, marvelous, prodigious, shocking, stunning, surprising, unbelievable, wonderful. It was the type of sunset with real stages. Whereas in England the standard stages are leave work, Brackmills, Riverside to get some crap from Halfords, Traffic jam, McDonalds, Portland Place this one had stages defined by colours and quality of the light. Without wanting to sound like they must have slipped something in my drink while I watched it, I certainly wont ever forget it.
Later that eve as we lamented the fact that tomorrow would be our last day in Ko Lanta we wandered down the steps to the town to explore the chocolate isle of the 7-11. I wont mention the brief interlude where after 2 beers with the sunset I fell on my arse in the pitch black wooded bit next to the water tanks into a massive bit of boggy mud which instantly soaked right through my trousers and boxer shorts. Cue a quick change of clothes and much restrained mirth for Kirsty (thankyou for laughing internally for the most part darling).
Anyway, Singha legs aside we got down to the travel agents where my casual contempt of most travellers was reaffirmed by an american girl talking to a travel agent. This is almost word for word. Try to read in the accent you most often hear bored american teens using,
"hey, we`ve like been here for like, 3 days now...you know? and we`ve done like nothing...i was thinking that, you know, we really should do some, like, you know, snorkelling or something? i dont know. you know?"
It was annoying but somewhat cheered me up as I realised no matter how bad things get in life, there will always be someone considerably thicker than you.
Tangents aside we shoved in front of these time wasters without any preamble and decided on the spur of the moment to book 2 tickets to the Lanta Thai Cookery School the next morning at 8am.
The moment it was booked we realised the dishes cooked in the afternoon were more interesting so we made the hapless bloke ring the place back and rearrange it. Then, reassured we were like, doing something, you know? We trotted back off the Topview bar where we listened to Coldplay and Radiohead and admired the fact that the entire record collection was from 2001.
The dawn of the last day on Ko Lanta was a sad occasion, the pain of which was only alleviated by breakfast overlooking the sea. Yet again the view was so wonderful that it immediately induced a deep relaxation in us and we tarried over breakfast for nearly 2 hours. I dont think the affects of the sea are never ending though judging from how gently stoned most of the staff are.
After breakfast I dragged us off on a frankly dangerously bendy/swervy route by moped to the gym where we paid more than 9 quid to train for an hour in preparation for the 5 course meal we would cook and eat that afternoon.
You have no need to be bored by the details of us driving round a building site for 15 minutes splashing mud up our legs and asking for directions through gritted teeth as locals smiled at us benignly so we wont bore you with the details.
As normal in the gym there was one skinny guy who spent all his time posing in front of the mirror and one fat guy who thought it his job to laugh quietly at him for an hour- guilty as charged.
After the gym we raced back at 60kmph bricking it all the way that I would have to explain to kirstys parents that she was now road pizza because I had made us late and so was speeding to get back before I breached the terms of the rental agreement. Still, no harm done.
The man from the cooking school was waiting for us at the bottom of the hill but being the island of smiles uttered not a word of protest when we made him drive us back to Topview and then wait around for half an hour while we had a shower. When we had finished we came out into broiling sunshine and immediately began sweating profusely so the shower was a bit of a waste of time in the end I think!
When we got to the cooking school we waited for a couple of others who ended up as no shows and got introduced to a couple of nice girls who were already there when we arrived. We chose together from the list of dishes and then we set about preparing and cooking Thai Beef Salad, Massaman Curry, Red Curry with fish, Sweet and Sour Chicken, and Fried Rice with chicken and vegetables. Dave Horn would approve of Tien who ran the show- we cooked using his own home grown veggies including baby aubergine and the curry pastes we used were home made too.
The cooking school was very interesting and once you taste the massaman curry you will beg to be invited around to ours for dinner! It was all so nice I ate all five courses and then felt sick. Good work I feel.
After the cooking school the driver dropped us back just in time to see the sunset- this one was different to the last as the sun was behind a thin layer of cloud so it was the quintessential (quintissential??) ball of flame in the sky changing from yellow to red to pink/purple. We finished the night in our little cliff side table while the others stayed in the bar. We drank by candlelight and cut out the pages from the Rough Guide that showed where we had been. We are trying to buy ourselves mementos of each country- we have paintings from China and Thailand so far but we also save ticket stubs, guide book pages etc. so hopefully we can get a really good scrapbook going or maybe frame some tickets with the pages and other trinkets from each place.
Don`t worry, you will get to admire them over a bowl of Massaman curry after which you will swear to be our unpaid slave forever if only we make you some more or give you the recipe.
In the next installment of biting down hard on a piece of leather to stop from murdering an annoying fool we will regale you with the story of our epic 23 hour bus ride to Kuala Lumpur in all its toe picking, spluttering, incomprehensible and reprehensible glory.
xx
Bangkok part 3 or is it 4 has been updated, there is a big UPDATED where the new bit starts- its not massively exciting it just says what we did at Kwai.
Ko Tao is still to write you`ll have to wait for that one or the writing will degenerate into we had eggs for breakfast. Then we went to the beach. It was good. Etc. etc.
The transfer to KL was a complete joke. Unhappy about leaving paradise we were none too impressed when we awoke at 6am and shivered under the cold shower (later in the day the sun heats the water butts and it becomes a little better) and then wandered out to reception, a good 6 hours earlier than in the last few days. Naturally as we were supposed to be picked up at 7am 7.45 sailed on by and the man behind the reception desk said it`d be 9. No problem we thought and ordered breakfast. No sooner had we done so than another member of staff rushed over, bundled us into the van and started insisting we were late. Obviously I still had time to pay for an uneaten breakfast though. Funny how some things are a priority.
Some time later it became clear why we were in a hurry. If we hadnt left right there and then there was no way we would have had time to sit in a boiling van for 2 hours waiting for the ferry to the mainland. Thank god and the thais that they sorted us out in time!
A suprisingly long time later we got to Krabi where we were promised time to refuel and visit the bogs etc. As today was one of those days what actually happened was we stepped off one van, were told we were late and then were bundled into another one which the driver insisting was leaving post haste. Naturally he meant after another fag which gave me the opportunity to huffily throw open the door and go to the toilet. As in, walk to the toilet/urinal, not just wee out the door though in hindsight I should have. Anyway, we set of for oompaloompa bus station where we would catch the vip bus to KL.
It was somewhere around the time that the van started puttering down the motorway that somethiing horrible. Kirsty tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to the man next to her. I innocently looked round expecting something nice- perhaps a can of beer from the foreign gentleman. What happened next was to become the barometer of the insanity that I came to expect from this effing t word.
Kirsty: Jaime he wants me to do something with his phone
Kirsty: He`s been talking to me for ages (read- ha ha now Ive involved you)
Man: blah blah blah. Bleep meep boop. Dingle Dangle etc. etc. (pointing at phone)
Finally after he takes me through a step by step demonstration of his phone not being able to correctly tell what day it is he hands me the phone as though I can a) read russian on a phone Ive never seen before, and, b) give a monkeys. So being the nice guy I am I have a good go- even putting up with him loudly pronouncing the months in Russian in my ear. I finally think I have cracked it and the phone reverts back to its original faulty setting.
Man: (this is what I think he said) See- I told you!
This left me slightly incredulous. Firstly, dont speak to me when I am reading unless I am either on fire or you bring food, beer or a portable DVD player with a Jim Carrey or Martin Lawrence film. Secondly, dont ask me to perform maintenance on a foreign phone, in another language, simply to prove what you already know.
Still- this was just his first trick. I shall list some others.
1) Asking how long it takes to fly from London to Bangkok to Kuala Lumpur non stop (in sign language)
2) Testing his range of available ring tones at full volume.
3) Talking to a fellow loser in Russia loudly on said mobile
4) Waking up 3 hours into a 23 hour journey and asking "Kuala Lumpur?" repeatedly while pointing out the window.
5) Having terrible personal hygiene
6) Coughing really, really loudly the way you would if a secret agent had just forced you to crush a cyanide pill between your teeth. On an unrelated note if I had cyanide capsules I could dissolve in peoples drinks there would be a trail of bodies behind us on this trip.
7) Asking questions in Russian to people who dont speak the language. And then repeating them again and again while people try desperately not to punch him.
8) Getting out of his seat, then putting his bare foot on it, thus revealing a builders bum in bermuda shorts in my direction- then picking his yellowing toe nails.
9) Grabbing my wrist while I am asleep to check the time.
10) Grabbing the ipod while I am listening to it and staring at the screen before muttering unintelligbly and then falling into a deep slumber.
11) Snoring really really loudly.
As you can tell, this bloke was about the most annoying person we have travelled with yet. It will be a long time before we forget this guy. When we finally arrived at KL bus station at 4am he started talking to me, again, in his language as though asking me the way to somewhere. Finally snapping I half smiled and half snarled "DONT talk to me! I dont speak your language. GO AWAY".
Much better. To our relief the taxi drivers informed us our hostel was a short walk away so Kirsty and I were joined by Julia (a swedish girl with interesting tattoos) and with blatant disregard for the risk we wandered off to the backpackers inn, the usual prisoner cell block H style craphole we like staying in to save money. The counterman informed us that checkin was six am but he would sneak us in at 5 if we hung around for 45 minutes. We said that sounded good and that we would go and use the cashpoint as we had no local currency.
So at 4.15am at the ATM we learnt a new truth about KL that the guidebooks dont tell you. ATMs are offline overnight. Hurray! No cash for another 2 hours- no cash no room. No cash no food. Hurray!!! Stepping over the dead rat in the street (not joking) we returned to the hostel where the bloke let us check in at 5 without paying and we went wandering to look for 24 hour cashpoints. We didnt find one but we did enjoy a sweaty, post 23 hr journey walk in KL chinatown at dawn with our new swedish friend. fun indeed.
After it turned to 6am we withdrew cash, had a mcdonalds, paid for the room and lent Julia some cash as her bank card was screwed (the embassy sorted it out for her later that day). 6 hours sleep later we wandered around Chinatown for the first time compos mentis.
As sights go, having been to Beijing chinatown was no biggie but it was all pleasantly familiar as we got ripped off in the market, pushed and shoved people for no reason at pedestrian crossings and had another mcdonalds. Later on that day Kirsty phone Seet-Mei, the lady who K looked after in Northampton until Seet-Mei moved back to Malaysia (her home) with Mike and Christopher (husband and son). Seet-Mei was very kind and invited us to come to see and stay with her that very day but Kirsty wisely declined as we were still shell shocked from the journey and how close we had come to actually killing a man. Seet-Mei told K that she would pick us up the next day around 11am outside the hostel. We wandered back to the hostel reassured that someone would take charge of us for the next day at least. I was a bit nervous about meeting these people for the 1st time. And then staying in their home. It turned out I had no need to be as you will discover.
After the arrangements had been made we explored a little shopping mall near the hostel where I forced Kirsty to have her hair cut short as she has been umming and ahhing about having it done for ages. Naturally she insists she looks awful despite it showing off her pretty face and looking better than before. Naturally this was my fault. Still- she is getting used to it now. And worzel gummidge was a style icon.
That evening we started to write our christmas cards on the roof terrace of the hostel where we enjoyed overpriced alcohol served to us by a muscular young man with his shirt off. I really had to resist knocking on his pec to see if it sounded like wood actually.
Anyway, once we had had a drink we went to the internet cafe to write some stuff about Ko Lanta and then had another McDonalds. Boo ya.
Quick question for you....would you like to stay in a street where dead rats are found in the gutter and the drains stink of the run-off from food stalls? Or, in a 5 bedroom house in a private community where you pass through a checkpoint to enter and the house has elegant double doors at the front?
Would you like to pay 35 ringgitt to sleep in a room with a view of the corridor through a barred window, on a lumpy prisonesque bed, where you might be woken by other backpackers drunk in the middle of the night? Or, in a bedroom with a brand new double bed- fresh sheets and a quilt- bedside lamps, air conditioning and an ensuite bathroom?
Would you like to fumble around the streets of Kuala Lumpur on your own, desperately trying to avoid muggers, expensive taxis and the 36 degree sunshine? Or, would you like to be driven around in an air conditioned car, be invited to choose a CD to listen to, have tolls paid on your behalf, never once pay for petrol and often end up at restaurants where your host insists on paying for dinner?
If you preferred the latter option on all three counts you would have liked Mike and Seet-Mei. You should factor into your decision the fact that they are both lovely people- they invited me into their home never having met me afterall- they have two wonderful children- and the clincher, Mike used to be a professional chef and he might cook you a lasagne and then fry up some pancakes with brown sugar and lime juice. Oh and they dont mind if you have a lie-in until midday.
The next few days in KL were a whirlwind. Seet-Mei is justifiably proud of her hometown/city and we were treated to tours of the Palace, the train station, various temples, the famous square (Merdeca) that houses the law courts and a towering flag pole amongst other things - we also saw the temple where they married, the national musuem, two excellent restaurants, the twin towers, a lovely city park- and a garden centre type thing. Obviously they could not spend 24 hours a day doing tourist stuff- they are preparing for the opening of their luxury B&B.
Take a moment at this point, if you will, to imagine being picked up by people to go and stay at their house. You imagine bunking down on the sofa. Then maybe bumping into people awkwardly on the way to the shower...Then they tell you they are on the verge of opening their home as a luxury B&B. Ho ho ho- Christmas come early.
I will give you a brief itinerary of what we did. Apologies to Mike and Seet-Mei if I have forgotten anything or if I report it in the wrong order- you provided a really really packed tour experience!
Day 1- pickup. National Museum. National Mosque. Local park for a walk round the lake and an ice cream. Orchid Park. Picnic lunch provided!
Eve 1- Local restaurant. M&S insist on paying. Thank-you! Hot Chocolate. Sleep!
Day 2- Breakfast is provided- cereal and scrambled eggs on toast. Mint tea. Chat for two hours. PO to post cards home. Lunch (we paid- they ripped us off for four quid in total for that bill!- it was the last one we paid though) Visit Batu Caves stopping at the Palace on the way for photos.
Eve 2- KL twin towers (highest towers almost anywhere, beautiful at night) + park tour. The park has an open air swimming pool, lots of landscaped trees and lawns and is right in the centre of town so the skyscrapers surround it- very modern. Takeaway paid for by M&S as kids had fallen asleep. Internet cafe to check flight times. Chatting till late in the lounge.
Day 3- Breakfast is provided and we spend time with them and the kids. First taste of marmite and peanut butter since England. Garden Centre to choose paving around the area the jacuzzi will be (!). We helped with the kids at this point so M&S could concentrate. Somehow they ended up soaking wet and covered in black dirt. Oops. Temple where they were married. Merdeca Square (great buildings on all sides, flag pole, lawn, marquees, flowerbeds, fountains. TESCO visit including ice cream from McDo (paid for by Mike- again. As usual).
Eve 3- M&S cook lasagne and roast potatoes while we shower and write christmas cards. Mike cracks out the red wine and cooks pancakes from scratch. Kids sleep. We retire to the lounge where Seet-Mei shows us their wedding photos- big shout out to the red bow tie Mike!. I chat to Mike, K talks to Seet-Mei. We all talk. Everyone nearly falls asleep and M&S look worried at the time as they know Christopher and Sophie will wake up early in the morning!
Departure Day- Breakfast is provided- again. Christopher looks at us angrily from the sofa and orders us not to leave. Then insists on coming to the airport. Mike drives us to the airport without complaint despite it taking an hour for him each way. K enjoys pitting spiderman against toilet man with Christopher in the back seat. At least Mike isnt listening to German drinking songs again. We wave goodbye at the airport. Half rejuvenated from the peanut butter and boiling hot showers. Partly shattered from keeping up with Sophie toddling about and Christopher wanting to sword fight and pretending to stab people on escalators.
Big thank-you to S&M for a lovely time!! See you again soon hopefully.
Obviously from the title of this part of the blog you clever people have deduced that Borneo was not quite what we naively expected though it was sufficiently eye opening for us to want to shout Tyler Durden style "God Damn! We just had a near-life experience, fellas".
Just one thing before we go into more detail- the bank froze our cash cards because of suspicious activity in Malaysia and when we rang the bank the woman said incredulously "do they have ATM`s in Borneo?". Some things can make you lose hope. "No dear" we nearly replied. "But I am afraid we don`t have any human children to sacrifice which is the normal form of currency here". Dunderhead.
Flying from Kuala Lumpur to Kota Kinabalu (KK) was suprisingly comfortable- but very bumpy. Kirsty coped admirably well seeing as how the plane felt like it was about to be torn in two. I maintained an outwardly calm expression while mentally deciding who I could take out with a well timed elbow if it became a serious crush to the exit. We have since instigated a new tactic on planes- always, always sit next to the emergency exit. It provides extra leg room and, particularly appealing is the fact that the lovely person in front cant decide to have a nice snooze as his chair cannot recline.
We got an expensive taxi to the berringis beach resort which was appealing yet deserted except for a "private function" which seemed exclusively for young malay men who spent their time yelling "stone cold, stone cold" at me. I`ll take that though- its better than having George Doors muttered at you. Check this link to see why http://www.s9.com/Biography/Austin-Steve
The Berringis led down to a deserted beach which was fenced off like all the best beaches are. You always want what you cant have so well done Berringis for making it so appealing. Fools. The B redeemed itself by having a small flume though on the first attempt down we were both too old for it and had to half drag ourselves down through the trickle of water that flowed along it. Still, after a few goes I got the technique. A happy 30 minutes. Luckily we had cable- handily they didnt shell out for HBO though so it was the usual waste of time- malay soaps etc. Considerately enough they had stocked the mini bar with triple price snacks and beer. As is often the case we were able to convince ourselves to eat them and then spend the next few days feeling peed off about it.
The few days we spent at the B passed by in a haze of expensive meals and taxis- (7.50 quid to town each way- thanks for telling us about the 50p bus you gits). We shopped in KK for mountain gear. We enjoyed trekking the streets for hats, gloves, waterproof jackets etc. These were the ideal items to find during a 35 degree day. Almost every billionth shop had at least one of the items from our 30 item list. Great fun. We spent hours at the post offfice- as usual they are needlessly bureaucratic and the excitement ended with a security guard helping us tape up our parcels (dont hold your breath for christmas presents- these parcels were for no. 1).
We did have one pleasant interlude of a very nice italian meal though the desperate waiter was overattentive and looked almost offended when we refused to buy an entire bottle of wine, or eat dessert, or drink coffee. Sorry pal but your 15 quid meals already take the mickey.
After a few days at the berringgis essentially doing sweet f a we were ready to transfer to the hotel asia city and meet our new Intrepid group. And what a bunch of fine folks they were.
!
The Intrepid tour started on 1st Dec and ended 14 excitement filled days later. Our tour leader Andrew "smokey brown" Rishworth was a kiwi who has spent the last few years in the middle east leading tours and is now based in Asia. He hasnt been home to NZ in about 5 years. Though he is now planning a trip home suspiciously at the same time we will be in NZ.
Being as how this blog is nothing if not thorough the italic bits below are the itinerary as set out by Intrepid with our particular take on things written below.
Day 1 Kota Kinabalu
Travellers will be arriving at different times during the day so feel free to arrive at the joining point at any time as there are no planned activities, apart from our meeting and dinner. For those who arrive early, there is information at the reception desk to give you some ideas on what to do for the day. Your leader will contact you about a meeting time and group dinner on Day 1.
Kota Kinabalu, the capital of Sabah, is an intriguing city that was born between the Borneo jungle and the South China Sea. Having survived World War II bombings, KK now has a charm that can only be found in a frontier town. In your free time you can immerse yourself in history at the Sabah State Museum, visit the Monsopiad Cultural Village, home to a notorious head hunter, or explore the islands off Kota Kinabalu, excellent for swimming or snorkeling. Allow approximately USD10 for an island visit, although costs can vary depending on your negotiating skills, the time you wish to spend on the island and the number of people with whom you go.
Please note that your leader will collect your local payment (USD200) today.
Day 1- Thanks for the cash for the tour but day 1 is actually just dinner. Which you pay for yourself. Cheers. On day 1 our group started to tentatively get to know each other. Obviously some people didnt like what they saw as when Andrew suggested sharing a variety of dishes at dinner certain people muttered under their breath "I`d rather have my own". Maybe they just thought I bet the fat english one will nick all my food unless I put a fricking police cordon around it. As usual I had to suppress the urge to be ruthlessly sarcastic to all of them while Kirsty was charming as ever and I tried to appear trustworthy by association. After dinner we went to a bar where some people had a shisha pipe and we all had a few beers. As the average age of the group was about 22 we went to bed about 11pm. I know...I know.
Day 2 Kiau
After our group meeting we travel to the base of Mt Kinabalu (bus, approximately 3 hours) to stay in the homes of the Dusun people, our guides on Mt Kinabalu. They are wonderfully warm and friendly people and we learn of their spiritual, social and economic attachment to the mountain. The Dusun village is nestled amid picturesque hills in the shadow of the great Mt Kinabalu, the highest mountain between the Himalayas and New Guinea. The rock monolith looms over us as a daunting reminder of the climb we are about to embark on but don`t be discouraged! Our wonderful host Soppinggi will insist that you `don`t think about the mountain!`.
Please note that this village has had very few visitors and we expect our travellers to respect and to act responsibly in this community. Please listen to your group leader who will explain how we can minimise our impact in this village.
Day 2- After a frantic search for an edible breakfast we left the Asia City Hotel and squeezed into mini vans for the transfer to the village. Halfway there we stopped at a little shop/toilet and there was a little viewing tower to check out the mountain in the distance, wreathed in clouds. No problem we all assured ourselves. Suitably chastised by the view we arrived at the kiau village somewhat nervous and subdued. The intrepid guide gives a long list of do`s and dont`s for the village whilst also mentioning "Please understand that many villagers drink Taipai rice wine and become talkative when inebriated- the people of Kiau ask that you dont pay particular attention to what the person says in such a case" Kirsty had no problem with this as I issued her much the same guideline when she met my family for the first time :-)
The village was set in rolling hills/mountains. The locals were very friendly and our guide Soppingi (male) was subtlely drunk when we arrived at a little past 2pm. Fair play. We watched a little dance show by the kids and we got dragged up to dance at which point kirsty started to laugh silently at me as she knows I look like r2d2 in need of WD40 when I "dance". How embarrassing. I enjoyed hiding in the toilet for a while afterwards. A tin shed that has better views than most 5 star hotels.
After the dancing I had a nice shower while Kirsty got our stuff ready for dinner and drinks at soppingis house. The first suprise when we got there was the lack of furniture. We ate dinner sitting on the lino floor of his kitchen. The food was fabulous as it tends to be when your veggies grow on the side of tropical rainforest covered mountains and the rice is grown about 50 feet from your doorstep. After dinner we drank a lot of rice wine and I tried to remember the lyrics to Green Day songs which we sang with the locals while Kirsty tried to reassure herself that this night would end eventually. And it did, with me spending 2 hours in the pouring rain trying to locate our little cabin with a local bloke who was trying to help me find the ipod. By the time we uncovered it we encountered everyone trooping off to bed and so I thought it best to just pass out. Kirsty was as impressed as ever. Moving on to day 2-4
Days 3-4 Mt Kinabalu
After a short guided walk around the village, we travel to the headquarters of Mt Kinabalu National Park (45 minutes). There are some beautiful nature walks around the headquarters, through lowland tropical forest, or you can relax in the afternoon. Hopefully catching a glimpse of the summit through the cloud, we can prepare ourselves for tomorrow`s climb. We stay at the National Park headquarters overnight on Day 3.
We begin the climb up Mt Kinabalu in the early morning. It is not an easy walk, but it is incredibly rewarding, willpower being the main requirement, as it`s uphill all the way! The well-marked trail is predominantly made up of steep steps that vary considerably in size. Altitude can affect anyone, no matter how fit you are, and it can certainly slow you down a fair bit. There`s no rush, so take your time and enjoy this pristine environment. Carrying just an overnight pack, you pass an extraordinary variety of plant life including around 1,000 varieties of orchids and maybe even the carnivorous pitcher plant. The climb is 6km and usually takes somewhere between 3 and 6 hours. We spend Night 4 at Laban Rata at an altitude of 3,272m. Bedtime is early in order to prepare for the final climb tomorrow morning!
A certificate is available to prove that you completed the climb - this can be arranged for RM10.
A short walk around the village was fun. 2 hours on the mountainside with a hangover. Great. Still, it was nice to see the rice growing and how the village intertwines along the mountain on which it is set. At the top of the village we bought big sticks for the climb up Kinabalu and water holders made of rice paper. The sticks were invaluable in the end! After the walk around the village we climbed into the minivans for the transfer to Park HQ. One thing worth mentioning before that though is the quality of the pineapples in this village. We could have eaten them all day and then used one as an edible pillow at night. And one other thing- this would be the last time all trip that we would attempt to squeeze into one bunk bed. Not fun.
We stayed in lovely little chalets in the park- we opted not to walk anywhere in preparation for the next day. We enjoyed a well deserved lunch at a little cafe and celebrated the novelty of eating at a table, while sitting on a chair. Really modern. The view from the bed in the chalet was great. With the door open we could see the tropical downpour and the misty mountains/rainforest in the background. Why bother climbing anything when you could get a view like that while drinking tea and snuggling down under the blankets. In twin beds in case you get the idea that this blog is some sort of Mills and Boon novel.
That night we had a delicious dinner at the slightly posher restaurant based in the slightly posher hotel across the road from our chalets. Or rather, Kirsty had a delicious dinner of spag bol while I ordered the chef`s salad. Unfortunately someone must have erased the prefix "incompetent" on the menu next to that particular entry. Still, it just reinforces my first rule of restaurants- order a salad and end up hungry or disappointed...usually both.
Please allow a certain frisson of cynicism in this next part explaining the mountain:
We begin the climb up Mt Kinabalu in the early morning- nothing like a 6am start after 6 hours staring at the ceiling wondering what the hell possessed you to sign up to this crap.
It is not an easy walk- HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
it is incredibly rewarding (dinner at the top), willpower being the main requirement (as well as the ability to ignore the negativity of your fellow climbers for 7 frickin hours), as it`s uphill all the way (strangely it does take time to stop wondering if it flattens out for a bit round the next corner. Its a mountain you tell yourself- its up all the way- why not hang yourself at the next rest stop. Lock yourself in the bogs and do it. Wonder how long itll take before they kick the door down. They probably wont bother...they`ll be happier anyway)
The well-marked trail is predominantly made up of steep steps that vary considerably in size- the choice is big, bigger, biggest and ridiculous. Take your pick
Altitude can affect anyone, no matter how fit you are, and it can certainly slow you down a fair bit. What slowed us down was 2,700 steps in row, all uphill. Wheezing like a 40 a day smoker didnt help- thanks altitude sickness!
Carrying just an overnight pack - just the 10 kg then
The climb is 6km and usually takes somewhere between 3 and 6 hours call it 7.5 if the pissing rain drains your spirit to the point where you are not sure whether you would kill the group or yourself first
We spend Night 4 at Laban Rata at an altitude of 3,272m. Bedtime is early in order to prepare for the final climb tomorrow morning! - Laban Rata was a welcome sight. The dorms we stayed in had the added bonus of 40 malays eating dinner in the hallway and having some sort of party. Warned about a difficult part of the climb which involved traversing a cliff face while hanging onto a rope and walking along a metre wide path we spent another night staring at the ceiling until we hopped out of bed at 2am, rejuvenated and ready to take on the second part of the climb.
Days 5-6 Poring Hot Springs
We rise very early this morning in order to catch the sunrise at the summit of Mt Kinabalu (4095m). It is difficult walking, but a huge achievement! The view from the summit is stupendous - the jungles of Borneo in one direction, the South China Sea in the other, making every inch of the climb worthwhile. Be warned though, don`t underestimate the cold - bring some warm clothes!
The climb from Laban Rata to the summit takes between 2 and 4 hours. Even if you are very fit you may find this section of the climb difficult because of the altitude. This can make you feel quite nauseous and short of breath. The trail is marked out by a rope that is also useful to help you up some of the steep sections and gloves are recommended to protect your hands (and keep them warm!).
At 2am we were part of the early group- another would leave an hour later but we knew we would need plenty of time to climb the next part as it was steeper and involved hauling ourselves up near vertical cliff faces with a large rope.
Which would prove to be sopping wet thanks to the absolute deluge that we heard hammering on the tin roof of the hut when we first "woke" up- that is to say, wiped away the silent tears that had slipped down our cheeks for the last 6 hours as we watched our breath form smoke in the cold dorm room.
Ha ha just kidding it was a fun first day and we couldnt wait to get to the summit. It was peeing it down but Soppingis cheery voice echoed down the hallway "no worry, no hurry, lemon squeezy easy peasy, dont think about the mountain". At least he didnt repeat his wisdom from the village "today is today, tomorrow is tomorrow, and the mountain is the mountain". Plato wept.
After a brief half hour where we fantasised about not having to complete the climb through no fault of our own when Soppingi decided we could go. This was a good thing as an irate Kirsty had just given me one of those looks- which was quite frightening as she was wearing a beanie, a head torch, a raincoat and 3 pairs of trousers- and had whispered loudly "We had better be able to f-ing well get to the top- Im not coming this far to stop here". Her resolve was much stronger than mine but suitably encouraged (or threatened depending on how well you understand "that" look) I jumped down from the bunk and minutes later Soppingi was leading us out into the pitch black for a climb to the first checkpoint that consisted of easily 1000 steps up steep wooden stairs. Soppingi is 53- you cant feel tired following a 53 year old up stairs so the climb passed fairly quickly. At this point we transferred to the interesting part.
Hauling ourselves along for half an hour using the thick white rope which would continue all the way to the summit we traversed the cliff face without noticing though one girl who shall remain anonymous nearly had a nervous breakdown as she is terribly afraid of heights. She managed to conquer the traverse with the sympathy of Soppingi. This was a double achievement for her as the previous day she had been awfully unwell on the climb up and had really had to soldier on through her upset stomach to get to Laban Rata.
I led the way up the rope with kirsty trying to overtake me all the way and we finally hauled ourselves to the final checkpoint where there was a welcome toilet stop and time for half a power bar and a whole mars bar (the 12th). The altitude was draining the torch batteries so Soppingi helped us change them and after that I stopped stepping in massive puddles which made the 0 degree winds more bearable and allowed me to keep all 10 toes. Still webbed though.
The final part of the ascent was easily the best. The top of Mount Kinabalu is like a moonscape when climbed at 3.30am- it slopes steeply upward, each rise feeling like the last with the ultimate peak peeping at you over the top of it but each mini summit was a fools errand with the final goal slipping away at the last moment. This part of the climb was amazing. The lack of vegetation and the sharply bright stars along with a seemingly endless expanse of rough rock to each side gave it an unreal aspect helped along by the lack of sleep. I was king on the first day, encouraging Kirsty all the way. I suspect this encouragement was superfluous as on this final day it was she who figuratively carried me to the summit. Sure I would have got there alone but not nearly as quickly. You have to breathe deeply and evenly at that altitude. There is no escaping a midwife when you are not breathing correctly.
The very last bit of the climb involved scrambling over boulders and having strangers yell "almost there" and "well done" at us. No offense, pal, but I didnt climb it for you, and I dont need you to tell me its an achievement. My overwhelming urge to sit down and sleep forever tells me that. Thanks though.
At the top certain members of our group were already waiting as the sun had risen 15 minutes previously. The promised view did not really materialise thanks to the clouds but there was a stunning panaroma nonetheless. I gave short shrift to the people already at the summit and brusquely asked them to shove off out the way of the famous sign that you can see in the pictures. We then sheltered for a while behind some rocks as it was bloody freezing and posed for some group pictures. 4 of the 12 had not made it so we christened ourselves team summit and team checkpoint. I think everyone knew we meant winners and losers. I can honestly say I have never felt like giving up that many times and yet carried on. K felt the same way.
In the interest of brevity I wont go on and on about the descent but I will say it crushed our spirit. Already knackered we descended 2,700 steps- which were often over a metre high- and that does not include the bits where the trail is just rocks and boulders that you climb up. Its probably a total of over 6000 steps down and took 7 hours in total just to descend. After we finally made it down we had another delicious meal at the cafe and transferred to Poring.
Days 5-6 Poring Hot Springs
We continue on to Poring Hot Springs (approximately 1 hour by bus) and have time to soak our weary limbs in the hot springs. Sheer bliss! We stay here for 2 days.
On Day 6 there are a number of optional activities from which to choose. Traverse the canopy walkway, where you can view the jungle as the birds and monkeys do, or visit the enchanting butterfly farm. Each of these has a nominal charge. You may also choose to trek to Laganan Falls for a 50m shower or just laze in the hot and cold pools.
On arriving at Poring we checked into the Round Inn- a charming little dump of a guesthouse. The usual story of good intentions gone wrong. Lovely to have cable- not so nice when the channel is controlled from downstairs where one person or another constantly channel hops. Not so nice either when they turn it off at 9.30pm. Nice to have a hot shower but not when you have to sacrifice all water pressure to get hot water and so end up with a dribble of water in place of the power shower you really need. Nice to have separate rooms but would be better if they had not been constructed by an origami expert so you can hear people in other rooms if they do more than breathe.
The first day at Poring was spent asleep. We had an hours rest after putting 10kg of laundry into the shop and then we had a group dinner where the non-summiters did not react positively to our gentle ribbing. The hostel made us order an hour in advance, forgot mine and Kirstys food and then slammed down metal shutters at 9.30pm effectively curtailing an evenings drinking though by that time most of the party animals were uttering the familiar lines about being tired. For a bunch of students and ex london party animals they certainly liked their shut eye.
The next day I woke from a 10 hour coma to find Kirsty awake and irate after being subjected to Malay pop music from 10am. Unperturbed I made it up to her by dragging her off in the pouring rain to breakfast. Im glad Malaysia has figured out that eggs on toast are so much better when you serve the eggs 20 minutes before the toast. Everyone knows toast doesnt complement eggs. Good for them for having the courage to point out what we all were thinking. Fools.
I dont want to be cynical but Traverse the canopy walkway,- yeah, maybe if its not pissing it down and you havent just climbed a frickin mountain.
or visit the enchanting butterfly farm. - ditto
What we did do was visit a rafflesia plant. Pics are on snapfish. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rafflesia_arnoldii It is the largest individual flower on earth and flowers rarely. For just 3 days in this case. Happily for us it was located 15 mins down an ankle deep mud track. A young girl guided us and she skipped off as we staggered behind, unable to flex our legs. Eventually we arrived at the flower and it was suitably impressive. Then we walked back. Cool man!
We then rented a private hotspring in the shape of a rafflesia. This was basically a 60degree bath. I added the finishing touches of two cornettos and some beef curry with rice. Does life get any better?
Later that day we went to see Jackie, the mentally challenged orangutan who despite her classification is smart enough to know that if she pops out of the jungle every day at 4pm tourists throw food to her. Doesnt sound that challenged to me but there you go.
We had a nice group dinner at Sri Pa Pa that evening including traditional malay powercuts and the assumption that everyone`s a muslim so no alcohol. We went back to the Round Inn for a drink afterwards and enjoyed the musical screeching of the shutters at 9.30pm when we resignedly retired for the night (is that even a word??).
Days 7-8 Jungle Camp/Malay Homestay
From the steam of Poring Hot Springs, we enter the equally steamy jungle, travelling first through palm oil plantations on a morning bus ride (approximately 5 hours). Our program at Kinabatangan is run by a local ecological program, MESCOT.
The MESCOT project aims to provide villagers with environmental education and the means of making a living from their forests, without the need for its destruction by chainsaws. Part of the program is to develop an ecologically sound wildlife and eco-tourism centre, owned and operated by the villagers themselves. After learning about forest rehabilitation, we head by boat (approximately 30 minutes) or foot (approximately 1 hour, easy) into the jungle to spend the night. This is the best way to experience the true wild Borneo. Wild elephants are rarely seen but we will hopefully find crocodiles, macaques, wild orangutan and the freaky-looking proboscis monkeys, as hornbills fly in the skies overhead. Be prepared for an adventure!
On Day 8 we are invited into the lives and homes of a local traditional Malay village for a night. Experiencing the ways and traditions of the locals firsthand like this is an amazing privilege and your leader will explain local cultural expectations to ensure that we get the most out of our stay. We are then billeted out into different homes throughout the village, where the sleeping and bathing arrangements are very basic.
The 5 hour transfer was quite comfortable today. Because the transfer was over 5 hours Intrepid arranged a big air con bus that showed DVDs and gave out free drinks. Ha ha not really, it was a cramped minivan and I had pins and needles by the time we arrived after sitting in the sweltering, cramped seats behind the driver. Still, unperturbed we piled out at MESCOT and stretched our legs. In fact, in recognition of the fact that we would need a walk the driver of the bus stopped in the middle of a dual carriageway flyover and we had to hop over the barrier and slip and slide down a concrete embankment to the barren wasteland underneath where the MESCOT base is located. Luckily it was pissing it down so we didnt have to put up with any of that annoying traction that so often makes a walk a boring experience where you dont nearly die every 20 metres.
The MESCOT base is massive. Though the people of this region are relatively poor they live so close to the forest and jungle that anything made of wood is normally around 5 times bigger than it needs to be. This tends to lead to enormous unfurnished houses as you will see later in this documentary.
The MESCOT building was based around a large verandah with a long table on it set out with 12 chairs. They had made some donuts and coffee for us and as is usual with Malay people they really were faultless hosts. As usual they had ridiculously Anglicised names. "Jeff" was one of our guides for the next few days though his partner was somewhat unfortunately named Ding Ding. Still, it made him fun to talk to.
After donuts etc. they gave a little speech about MESCOT whose aims are impressive- the usual stuff about sustainable ecosystems etc. and not impacting the forest. MESCOT have the right idea about sustainability though as they do not ignore the fact that people need to make money- they think that this is possible whilst maintaining the forest.
Unlike in China where they have spent millions conserving the wild pandas which can probably never actually be reintroduced to the wild thanks to the destruction of their habitat and the fact that they will be confused by the lack of hard boiled eggs in the forest. Millions of pounds spent on animals while the peasants outside the gates sell stuffed pandas for a quid and think themselves lucky if they earn enough to eat. I love a panda as much as the next person but when people cant afford a doctor maybe some funds could be diverted to other projects?
Moving on- we walked down to MESCOTs little jetty and took a boat out to the jungle. As you can imagine this involved slipping silently (except for the engine) along a great expanse of brown water (soil etc. not pollution) which curved impressively around a few turns before we pulled up to a bank where none of us could see anything different from the last mile or so of muddy clay but Jeff knew what he was doing as we were soon traipsing through genuine jungle on our way to a scary evening in the forest.
At the camp we put our own hammocks up with quite a lot of help from old dingers and Jeff. There was a large table and benches with a giant tarp roof for us to eat dinner later. We brought that with us from MESCOT in flash little stacking metal pans. Wow we thought- I cant believe its going to keep it hot all the way until tonight. Ho ho how naive we were!
After erecting the hammocks we had a coffee and then went out on the boat for a little cruise. We saw loads of macaques on the river bank and a few kingfishers and other odd animals, even some probiscis monkeys from a distance. Back on dry land with everyone mentally calculating how many hours were left before we slept somewhere that elephants didnt have unobstructed access to we had our delicious dinner. Still, no matter how traditional and homegrown the cuisine every curry loses a little je ne sais quoi when it went cold 4 hours before. MMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmm.
Later that evening we went on a night safari. As we suspected this is code for "a load of tourists blunder through the jungle, squealing at inappropriate times, getting covered in leeches and generally scaring the shit out of anything worth seeing so all that happens is that the weirdos in the group spend an inordinate amount of time photographing insects by torch light while the rest of us huddle about wishing certain other members of the group would shut the f-ck up for once in their lives and hoping that some of the goddam jungle would be bulldozed soon so the malays could get a grip, stop blathering about conservation and set up a mcdonalds"
Just kidding! We loved the jungle walk. I can even tell you a quick way to discern whether you are in jenyooein jungle or not. Stop and listen. Turn off your torch. If its silent except for the quiet, rustling steps of a sex pest and its dark, except for the distant glow of streetlights and the faint luminescence of dog poo bins then you are in Salcey Forest.
If you turn off your torch and are immediately enveloped in a darkness so complete you cannot see your hand in front of your face then you are probably in the jungle. You can confirm this hypothesis in two ways. Firstly, listen. If you hear a massive variety of whooping, clicking, scratching, rustling and generally weird noises you are probably in the jungle. Proceed to the final step. Turn your torch on. Walk 10 paces. If you are in the jungle you will almost certainly stumble to an abrupt halt and yell "jesus christ" as you almost stroll directly into a bloody massive spider which you can vividly imagine biting you senseless and leaving you to die and rot where you fall.
As you can tell, the jungle walk was impressive and has left an indelible imprint on our already tortured minds. It was with a certain measure of relief that we made it back to camp. We then passed the time using the open air squat toilet (4 mozzie bites in unfortunate areas) and making small talk in an attempt to avoid having to climb into our hammocks.
You may be imagining a lazy, caribbean type hammock that has the bracing supports across it which creates a wide bed. If you thought this then go back two places and miss a turn. These hammocks were canvas affairs with integral mozzie nets. They were only supported at each end where they attached to a tree. This meant that they were very thin and when you were lying in them you had to cross your legs and arms to use your elbows to force the sides outwards. Eventually we found out that if you assumed a classic coffin pose you could sleep. It seemed somewhat like tempting fate to sleep in the position of the dead but it was the only possible way. Luckily the mozzie net was suspended a full 3 cm above our foreheads so it didnt feel like a shroud at all.
It was so claustrophobic and so bloody hot that I ended up poking my head out the mozzie net and gasping theatrically at one point, convinced that i was on the verge of suffocation. Luckily Kirsty wasnt such a drama queen and settled (she told me the next day) for not sleeping at all and simply staring at the net above her in wide eyed horror, convinced she was sharing the hammock with a thousand weird insects. Probably not far off.
Ko Lanta and Khao Sok National Park Photos are now on snapfish.co.uk
log in as pandalandphotos@yahoo.com password 123456789 and click on the pandaland group room!
On Day 8 we are invited into the lives and homes of a local traditional Malay village for a night. Experiencing the ways and traditions of the locals firsthand like this is an amazing privilege and your leader will explain local cultural expectations to ensure that we get the most out of our stay. We are then billeted out into different homes throughout the village, where the sleeping and bathing arrangements are very basic.
The next day we woke bright and early at 6am- or rather Kirsty breathed a sigh of relief that escape was imminent and I rolled out of my personal sauna. It was 6am- normally we would not get up for at least another 5 hours but today it was welcome despite the fact that minutes after waking we had to set off on another jungle trek.
Trek is a bit of a misnomer in Asia at least- it is used in place of the word "walk" to try to make tourists nervous that they will disappear in a puddle of sweat. As usual with this type of activity we walked for 30 minutes in near silence appreciating the huge variety of trees and plants that surrounded us- Ding thoughtfully took us through some nice deep mud and we were glad of the adidas "villager" (not joking!) rubber shoes we had on.
After 30 mins the destination became clear- an enormous tree that towered above its neighbours by a good 20 feet and they were not exactly stunted to start with. Still, a tall tree is just that unless you have a fascination with trees in general, which we clearly dont. It was 500 years old though so kirsty has just told me. You`d think then that it could have waited until after breakfast. It was a fun walk though watching Jeff get lost and seeing Ding rely on the sun for direction.
After wandering back to camp we dismantled the hammocks- not difficult thanks to the generally shoddy way in which they were attached to the tree. I borrowed Ding`s massive machete- slightly over the top to cut lines of twine but strangely pleasing to be able to thwack thwack thwack about the place. As soon as we were finished we rushed to the trestle table to have a wonderful meal. One question- is there anyone on earth who doesn`t like cold boiled eggs, dry bread, chicken noodles and shit coffee? We certainly lapped it all up. Yummy yummy.
The first epicurean experience of the day dispensed with we filed out of the jungle and in to the boat. Everyone was in high spirits as the jungle is fairly draining what with the crap food, the coffins, the long walks etc. etc. Some experiences in life are exciting and enlightening but equally fatigue inducing so none of us were that sorry to leave though some poo poo heads tried to make out like they`d live out their days with mother nature and tarzan given half the chance.
Back at MESCOT Jeff gave us the rundown on the quiet day we had ahead of us. Just the cooking school, the culture show, the caves visit, the fishing demonstration and the introduction of our homestay families. Desperately knocking back the coffee the group did its best to perk up and appear interested. The first activity we did was the cave visit.
The caves are a sort of burial ground containing wooden coffins slotted into niches in the walls ("the small ones are for children"- Ding). Being in Borneo meant there were over 200 steps up a wooden ladder to get to the viewing platform at the top- not fun when Kinabalu means you still cant bend your leg to 90 degrees. The view was quite good, funnily enough we could see all the way to the tall tree from that same morning and also over the top of miles of palm oil plantations.
After we had been at the top for a while it started to hammer it down making the descent treacherous and slippery. Naturally the rain stopped like a tap being turned off as soon as we got back into the minivans to go back to MESCOT.
Once back we started the cooking lesson which was more like a lesson in how to observe someone else doing the cooking but fun nonetheless. There was a choice of dish- donuts, wild ferns, fried fish, egg and cucumber and some other stuff that I dont recall. K and I chose the fish as it sounded a bit more exciting than chopping leaves off ferns or making shapes out of donut dough. The fish were quite small and there was about 50 of them to dip in flour and then fry. The woman made the tomato sauce, using her big knife to open the canned vegetables. She admitted to owning a can opener but preferred the knife (hefting it at this point with a big smile).
We ate dinner in the traditional way i.e. with our fingers. The refusal to adopt the knife and fork was a refusal to bend to the ways of invaders apparently. Great decision there guys. Talk about cutting off your nose to spite your face. Made all the more painful by cutting off said nose using just your fingers. Honestly.
After dinner came the culture show which was a fun mix of dancing, a silat demonstration and general embarrassment in the form of joining in. As usual the dancers had fantastic costumes on and hopefully this will show in the photos.
Once they were sure that yes, I do actually dance that badly and I wasnt just joking they let us sit back down for coffee and some of the donuts that other members of the group had lovingly prepared earlier. I particularly enjoyed the "J" shaped donut thinking that it was nice of Calum to make it for me. It was only after I swallowed it that Wayne pointed out that Calum`s girlfriend is called Julia so maybe I ate her romantic gift. Oops.
Fishing was next. Jeff showed us how to gather up a weighted net in our arms, frankly making quite a meal of it when it comes down to just frisbeeing it in to the water so the weights on the bottom spread in a nice big circle. Of course, despite the fact that I was an expert I forgot to let go with both hands when I had a go and nearly threw myself in the river. Kirsty did better though she maintains she couldnt catch anything if it swam more than 5 cm from the dock- she seemed to want to catch fish in the next village but I tried to tell her she did just fine. Unfortunately, her having seen me "dancing" and then nearly drowning myself meant my reassurance didnt count for much in her eyes.
20 minutes later we were waiting to be told who our families for that night would be- suprisingly most families seemed to be related to Jeff in one way or another. Ah yes, Saibin family, he would say- Saibin is my grandfather. Saibin was our family for the evening. Jeff`s brother/sister/aunt/uncle/cousin/best mate`s families were taken also. Later on we were driven the the houses. Being strict Muslims there could be no alcohol to ease the mood so people wondered how they would cope. Kirsty wondered how to cover her knees and shoulders and was upset there was no chance of bacon.
The saibin`s lived in a large bungalow set back from the road. We walked over a little wooden bridge to get to the front door. Saibin`s daughter-in-law revealed later that they had had some people from Intrepid every fortnight or the last 20 years so I guess we had nothing to worry about. The house appeared practically unfurnished though unlike Soppingi`s it at least had a table to eat at in the kitchen. The silent grandmother cooked a nice variety of fried dishes for dinner and then sat on the floor rocking the baby eating dinner with the three other kids for the rest of the evening. Saibin`s daughter-in-law chatted to us for a while though conversation was hard work once she understood Midwife K and her had a better chat.
Before dinner we both had a mandi shower which is a bucket of water with a plastic saucepan in the top that you use to pour over you. Being collected rainwater the water is pretty cold though it seems clean and is refreshing (traveller code for friggin freezing).
After dinner we were so genuinely tired that we went to bed at 7.30 though somehow once in our room we found the energy to read until 9pm when Saibin`s pointed coughing made us turn the light off. Sometime later we went outside to the toilet and while we were outside the power failed. All we could see was the glow in the dark Mt Kinabalu trail shirts we were both wearing. We waited in silence for 5 minutes and almost ran back in when the lights came back on.
At breakfast in the morning (fried noodles at 7am, my fave!) we told them we were going to Sepilok to see the Orangutans and she told us about how her dog had barked at an Orangutan which promptly dropped down from its tree, snapped the dogs legs in half and then pounded its head in with a big fist. In case there was a communication break down she made the barking noise for us and mimed the orangutans snapping and smashing motions. Nice. Somewhat ashen faced we spent the rest of the time there showing the kids our photos and taking pics of them to send when we get around to printing them.
Day 9 Sandakan
We travel overland by bus to Sandakan (approximately 1.5 hours), to the commercial hub of the district. The journey into town gives a good indication of the vast areas of rainforest that have been cleared for palm plantations. Sandakan was once the capital of British North Borneo and traditionally has had strong trading ties with Hong Kong. We have free time here to catch up on laundry and banking and explore the city. The Cantonese influence here is evident in the lively harbourside market and many Chinese temples. The emotive war memorial park offers an insight into the tragic history of battles in Borneo.
Arriving in Sandakan the hotel informed us that they needed more than 3 days to process laundry so that was handy. We went to sleep after this news for fear that without time to reflect we might let the floodgates open and strangle all the staff then bundle them into the idle washing machines we fancied were standing around out the back. We woke late as per usual and ran out to use the net. Finally arriving at a bustling internet cafe we were told there was a problem with it and despite the 40 people already using it we would just be too much. fine.
We went to KFC and had some of the worst KFC ever made worse by a kid knocking on the window and holding his hand out to us. Tempted as ever to plunge his hand into the fryer I contented myself with muttering unrepeatable words under my breath and finished the last of the crappy KFC Meltz we had ordered.
Back at the hotel we all met up for a tour of Sandakan War Memorial and a visit to a Chinese Temple followed by dinner at an English Teahouse. The memorial was as impressive as all these things are. It showed the story of POW`s forced to construct an airbase by the Japenese. You can see some quotes from escapees on Snapfish.
The chinese temple was nothing new for us.
The teahouse was quaint though it had some problems with its supposed english heritage, mainly that lychee cheesecake is not a traditional dessert for afternoon tea and that you had to specifically ask for the tea menu despite being in a teahouse. Nevertheless we all ordered the overpriced set menu and enjoyed it immensely except when the bill came. Overpriced! Before we ate we were subjected to a flying ant invasion that ended with everyones drinks being replaced because there were so many of the little buggers. The owners turned on some sort of pressurised steam vents that were threaded through the guttering. It was disorientating to eat in the middle of a cloud but at least there were no ants.
We missed the turning on the way home and so had an extra walk along the hills have eyes set, accentuated by the scudding cloud above and a steep hillside covered in graves to our right. Nice. We wanted a drink after that but the only Karaoke bar was miles from our hotel so we settled for collapsing into bed to prepare for Turtle Island the next day. We found time somehow to watch some of the Holiday though and I mysteriously found a full, open bottle of Carlsberg in my hand with no recollection of opening it. Maybe some sort of survival instinct kicked in when I saw Jude Law`s face on the TV.
Day 10 Turtle Island
Travelling by speedboat (approximately 1.5 hours) past fishing villages and bamboo fish traps, we head out to Turtle Island where every night of the year giant green turtles come ashore to lay their eggs. In the evening we hope to witness this heartwarming display and help the researchers as they release protected hatchlings and guide them in their frantic dash to the ocean. It is a moving experience that makes you think twice about trying the illegally traded turtle egg delicacy! This is a very delicate environment and you must follow instructions from your leader and the local rangers to ensure minimal impact on the turtles. Photographing the turtles is permitted by the local government but is not recommended as it disrupts the turtles. There are photographs available for you to purchase. There is time for swimming and lazing about on this tropical island where we stay for a night in `chalets`. Snorkelling gear is available to hire.
The driver of the speed boat was a complete idiot who made me change sides on the boat about 10 times to balance it out. How embarrassing. It would have been better balanced with him churned to pieces by the engine as far as I was concerned.
every night of the year giant green turtles come ashore to lay their eggs- what they don`t tell you is that the turtles can come ashore anytime between sunset and sunrise. Still, they`ll leave you in an empty room on plastic chairs if you want to sit up all night but we will discuss that later.
On arriving at TI we checked into our accommodation- it was quite nice though electricity was not available for the first hour or so. It was a boiling hot day so after sitting about drinking chocolate milkshake for a while we went to the beach. It was a picture perfect beach, the bone white sand, the blue sea, clear sky etc. and we enjoyed relaxing for an hour in the sun. I am still peeling now as is K! After a time relaxing fate decided that I couldn`t have a nap as there was the makings of a perfect sunset on the West side of the island that just needed a cornetto and a beer adding to it to make it perfect. Naturally clouds drew in at the most inconvenient point but we got some good shots and some of us in the pics too showing off our tans.
After this fun we hit the buffet dinner (would have been even earlier but we looked briefly at the museum on the first floor- it was abandoned the minute dinner was served). After dinner and several beers we all took it in turns to nearly fall asleep. We played cards but save for that the only entertainment was dodgy soap operas in Malay. At 9.30pm the bar closed. The shutters came down. Despite the fact that the most common time to sight a turtle is between 8pm and 3am the bar shut at 9.30pm. Some people are just gifted businessmen I guess.
Finally at midnight after half the group had moaned to the point where I was surreptitiously sharpening my chair leg to use on them the bloke came in and took us to watch the hatchlings being released. The sight was all the more impressive thanks to the billions of stars that can be seen clearly overhea on TI. The little hatchlings were poured out of a bucket on to the sand and they raced, with varying degrees of eagerness, for the surf. Fins whirring like propellers they reach the sea and then are immediately drawn in quicker than the eye can track by the powerful currents. It was all over in 5 minutes but noone was in any doubt as to how lucky we were to have seen it at all.
At this point several people in the group who I affectionately think of as losers and quitters went to bed as apparently the prospect of seeing a 200 year old giant turtle come ashore to lay eggs in the middle of a starry night off the coast of Borneo intefered with them getting their beauty sleep. To be fair, to look at them they had a point.
I was secretly hoping to go to sleep sometime soon but Kirsty made it clear we would sleep when we had seen a turtle and not before. The only other group member who stayed up with us was Wayne. We all alternated sleeping with our heads in our hands while flicking through the indecipherable telly channels. At 3.30am a guide told us to follow him.
For the next 90 mins we watched a turtle from less than 2 feet away dig a pit to lay her eggs in. After a while she decided for some reason, probably our torches, that it wasnt happening that night and so we got the bonus sight of her slowly dragging herself off down the beach only to go from lumbering to graceful as she hit the water and disappered off into the depths. Finally satisfied, we went to sleep at 5am, secure in the knowledge that we had 90 minutes of sleep to look forward to.
Day 11 Sepilok Orangutan Reserve
After our return to the mainland (45 minutes), we continue on to a guesthouse located near Sepilok Orangutan Reserve (approximately 30 minutes by taxi). The reserve is set up to help re-introduce these wonderful creatures back into the wild after a life of domestication or having been orphaned. As we walk into the reserve to see the feeding of these semi-wild orangutans it is essential that we follow instructions from the park warden. We are not permitted to interfere with the orangutans as human contact must be kept to a minimum.
Leaping eagerly out of bed in that risky, bleary eyed, tell-me-its-a-nightmare way you do after a night watching turtles we paused only to buy some photos of turtles and to have a satisfying breakfast of Milo cereal before jumping back on board the HMS Jackass and making our way back to dry land. Arriving at Sandakan everyone decided to walk, in the drizzle, 15 minutes uphill back to the hotel. Wayne, Kirsty and I caught a taxi. As we passed the others trudging up the hill we saw how glad they were to be saving 70p. Ho ho ho.
At the hotel we realised the small plate of sandwiches and biscuits on the side were free and so promptly decimated it before offering the folorn remains around to everyone else. Early bird catches the worm. We then went in a taxi to the Sepilok B&B a pleasant place that reeked of chemical disinfectant and had free internet and the promise of a buffet/BBQ that evening.
We went to an Orangutan feeding at 10am which was a bit of a disappointment, small orangu`s only and no real contact with them. We walked the 2k back to the B&B and collapsed asleep until 3pm when we went to the feeding session again. This time was more fun as the macaques turned up and stole food by hanging under the feeding platform and snatching bananas. A big Orangutan appeared behind us. Kirsty dragged me to safety after first making me take several photos. Hope you all like them.
After the feeding we saw the usual promotional video. They all go something like this: "the beautiful and rare blahblah animal`s habitat is being destroyed by evil humans (desperate to feed their children). These animals are indispensable and frankly we`d kill all of you right now to save just one baby blahblah. By the way, this is bloody expensive so please give us some money. cheers"
Once we had finished chortling quietly at the idea that we would spend money on something other than ice cream or alcohol we were given a lift back to the B&B where we fell asleep again. We rose at 7 to attack the BBQ which was very good and helped along by a can or 3 of stella.
At 9pm most of the people who had gone to bed at midnight the night before were ready to lay their heads down again, the weight of the sawdust inside just too much for their neck muscles to support any longer.
So that was the end of that day.
We fly back to Kota Kinabalu where we conclude the trip in a seaside guesthouse south of the city. Relax by the pool or explore the surrounding islands on foot or by boat. It is also possible to go horse riding along the beach and through local villages. Expect to pay about USD30 for a 2-hour ride.
You are free to depart any time on Day 13 as no activities are planned. Our beach stay is a short taxi ride from the airport.
Shattered from our happening party of the night before we rose at 8am to get the plane back to KK. The marmalade in Borneo is excellent- that tells you all you need to know about breakfast today- that and the fact that I think I showed them that yes, one man can eat more than 5 slices of toast in one sitting. Amateurs.
After a frankly forgettable plane ride (what plane advertises delicious hotdogs and then says its out of stock when you attempt to order a 2nd?) we arrived back in KK, jumped into taxis and made our way to the seaside travellers inn which though only 5 minutes from the Berringgis is actually cheaper and much nicer. Andrew gave us (or fluked into it) the best room in the whole hotel- the room was big enough for 3 people, was entirely made of wood and was literally next to the beach and a 180 degree ocean view, most of which could be appreciated whilst lying on the double bed letting the cool breeze of the air con wash over you.
We fell asleep again in the afternoon after having lunch- I ordered Seti`s Suprise which contained fried chicken, chops, rice and beans. Unfortunately as everyone hilariously remarked the suprise seemed to be salmonella as blood spurted from the ridiculously undercooked chicken and i had to send it back...smiling all the while like the gracious person I am.
That evening we rose in time to catch the final night group dinner at which we were pleased to learn they sold Australian shiraz so K polished off 75 per cent of the bottle while I supplemented my meagre intake with 5 Stellas. What else could be do knowing that we had to be up for 8am to go horseriding in 35 degree heat?
Horseriding was just us two- hence it was the most fun we`d had for a while. We enjoy travelling in a group- especially with the China group!!- but sometimes it nice to strike out on your own. Even if that means a chauffeur to and from an Ozzie owned horseriding school 10 minutes down the road.
The stables were due to close some time soon as the lovely lady who had been running it for 17 years wanted to move back home. There were a variety of horses friskily trotting about and I had to put up with Kirsty being flawlessly confident as she rode horses when younger and all I did was play pool at the Labour Club.
We moved slowly out of the gate and onto the beach. The next hour and a half were the usual absorbing, exciting and fun time you get when riding a horse- I am fairly crap at it and yet I love it. Kirsty got given the naughty horse (her calm backfired) and she had to literally stand up in the stirrups, and haul back on the reins (hard enough to get a blister) to make it stop. We cantered out across the beach and out to an island that would become unreachable as the midday tides came in later in the day. I only nearly fell off tiwce so thats not bad going. Kirsty just had trouble stopping hers but we both enjoyed the views and the feeling that horse riding gives you.
After we finished the woman made us a coffee (hangover kicking in now) and we had a pleasant chat along with a scottish lady who was volunteering at the school too who explained in detail how to cook with red wine. Thanks for that.
Once we had been dropped back at the resort we waved goodbye to the last few members of the tour and then went into KK with Tosh- the last guy from our tour who had booked a couple of days extra in KK. We did mainly boring crap in KK but ended up watching I am Legend for 1.10 pounds in the cinema which scared the hell out of all of us and made me particularly glad that it was light outside.
The next day passed by slowly with the only highlight being a massive burger king and beating Kirsty and Tosh at table tennis. We ate with Tosh again at night so it was really good to keep the intrepid spirit alive and for us to not have to have dinner by ourselves.
The real fun began the next day. Which earns its own entry thanks to being hellish.
We arrived in KL at about 1pm after the famous "why say you sell hotdogs when you dont ever carry any on the damn flight" incident which I would prefer to gloss over.
We then had a choice- spend a night in rat filled chinatown in a city in which we had already been shown round the best sights by Mike and Seetmei....or, decide to try to get to Singapore on a wing and a prayer, likely arriving after midnight in a city that I had already researched on the net and found 25 out of 25 hostels fully booked. It was a simple choice.
Of course before we set off by bus we took the time to waste an hour at the train station. We were number 1320 in the queue and 1255 was being served. There were still plenty of beds on the comfortable overnight service. 45 minutes later we were number 1305 and the last ticket was sold. Cheers guys!
We promptly took a taxi to the bus station. Interestingly if you take the time to go up into the train station and out onto the concourse rather than take a taxi on the bottom level you get it half price! Is that because the piss takers congregate on the bottom level round the tourist buses?
Anyway, having wasted a lot of time we proceeded to spend another hour stuck in rush hour traffic in the taxi to travel less than a mile (we later realised) to the bus station. Being Malaysia there was a man with a walkie talkie who immediately saw our massive rucksacks, sold us tickets to Singapore and then lied about the time the bus would depart.
An hour later the bus finally left. It dropped us off at 12.30am in Singapore. We had no idea where we were and so decided to get a taxi to chinatown. Then we walked for an hour to find a lovely little guesthouse that Lonely Planet had recommended. We walked around the same block of buildings until 1.30am when we realised that we had finally found the guesthouse.
Now all we had to do was build a time machine to go back a year to before they closed it down, covered it in scaffolding and didnt friggin bother to tell anyone. Tired and dispirited we got a cab to a mystery location that everyone seemed to think would have cheap rooms.
The taxi driver was a friendly indian guy who insisted immediately that we go to little india and gave us a free sightseeing tour on the way. Once we got to LI we were not pleased to find most of the hostels there were ones we had already tried on the internet and it was now 2am, we had been travelling since 8am the day before.
A nice bloke at "the inn crowd" rang round a few places but there was nothing. We ended up in a hotel just round the corner for 40 quid. The sort of upstanding place close to the red light district that reassuringly had an hourly room rate should that be what you were after.
Having checked in I went back to the inn crowd (now 2.45am) to reserve dorm beds for the next day whereupon I learnt that Navas place (20 quid) had rung back and had space. Luckily it was round the corner from our current dive so ignoring the bloody annoying fact that I had just spent 20 quid more than necessary to sleep for 8 hours I went to Navas, woke the owner and reserved for the next day. Then I collapsed into bed with only Kirsty, cookies and beer for company. Life is tough when you are a backpacker...
Moving on from the crappy arrival we checked into Nava`s Place the next morning and nearly wept tears of gratitude for the coffee he made us. 1st hostel, ever, to make us a drink for free!!
After this delicious beverage made all the sweeter by the fact it was made by someone who wasnt after our cash we decided to go to Sentosa Island, which to quote its website is a place "With over 20,000 square feet of retail space, and attractions that run the gamut from adventure rides to historical exhibits, shopping and entertainment do indeed take on a new perspective at Sentosa" (www.sentosa.com.sg). We enjoyed taking the MRT (Mass Rapid Transport) to Harbourfront and also took the time to appreciate a rather nice lunch at one of the classy cafes in the shopping centre before taking the lift to the 18th floor and preparing ourselves for a private cable car ride high across the bay and directly to the peak of Sentosa Island.
Once there we engaged in a number of activities including the Butterfly Farm, the Luge, the Skyride, the 4d Cineblast and the Songs of the Sea sound and light show. If you really care what these were then log on to Sentosa.com and check them out for yourself. Oh yeah, mustnt forget the Carlsberg Sky Tower, we went on that too. All in all it was a very nice day/evening out.
Back home in LI we enjoyed attempting to order from a little indian cafe. Apparently though just because something is on the large menu bolted to the wall doesnt mean the waiter will be able to bring it to you. More likely he will just look confused and offer you a thosai. In the end after trying to order 5 different dishes he managed to say loudly "only thosai" and "you want thosai?". Suddenly faced with the option of thosai or nothing at all we did fancy it afterall. We ordered chicken thosai but immediately knew we had made a mistake. The weirdo waiter who reminded me of the people from Men In Black just before their true alien personas burst through almost yelled "no chicken! only egg!" and so it was decided.
Two pints of 7 per cent beer (they accidentally brought K one so I helped her out) and a rice pancake filled with egg and onion with a runny curry sauce on the side later we went to the internet cafe.
Unfortunately it soon turned 3am and I knew we had to go to sleep. Of course being a hostel there was the usual suspect next door- someone who thought that he had the right to wake everyone up and announce that yes, he was a loudmouth. I foiled his plan by pretending to roll over in bed but actually executing a knee strike to the wall where I judged he was sitting on the other side. That shut him up. Fool.
Waking conveniently at 11am we hammered the free breakfast (I ate 6 slices of toast the day before at the hooker motel- hey, they had peanut butter, you would have done no less) and wondered what to do. We ended up going shopping along orchard road. Firstly though, knowing we had far too much time on our hands and having had at least 24 hours where none of it was frittered away thanks to incompetence we visited STA Travel who told us that airlines rules and regulations forbade them from changing the dates on our tickets. Still, thanks for the student cards!- I am studying unwarranted discounts for the next year as is K.
Wastage mission complete we spent an enjoyable two hours wandering along orchard road in the rain (top marks to us for buying an umbrella during the cloudless evening before) going into the shopping centres that never seem to end. We even signed up for a tourist card at one point because it offered free gifts. They all turned out to be crap like "get a lipstick free when you spend one hundred pounds on clinique merchandise". We bought the latest Terry Goodkind book and a skipping rope to assuage our guilt from eating and drinking whatever we damn well please for the last few months and then went to look at the christmas lights.
Singapore is a wonderfully modern city and so we got some great shots of the skyscrapers, the wide avenues and the streets dripping with little fairy lights. It was very nice to just wander along, leaving mud huts and poverty behind for once and being treated like scum by shop staff instead of royalty. A reassuringly british experience indeed.
After seeing the lights we went back to the building where we had previously caught the cable car to Sentosa and went up another floor (to the 19th) where at the back of the posh gym there is a cafe that serves awesome wraps along with a very nice view of the harbour. But I mainly went for the wraps.
The final day in Singapore was as good as the rest of them. Kirsty is quite the expert on research so having spotted a website called Singapore in 48 hours, noted the restaurant they went to and then discovering it at the end of our road we enjoyed a brilliant curry. Served on a massive banana leaf it was two quid fifty for pilau rice, chicken curry, asort of thick blended veggie curry, a pot of massala sauce and two vegetable side dishes along with a fried chapati. I suppose it was ok :-)
Afterwards we went for a (dont laugh) bumboat cruise down the river and looked at the merlion (half fish half lion, dont ask). We caught the boat from Clarke Quay which was a really nice riverside assortment of restaurants and bars (pics to follow). It was good to see the skyscrapers towering above us as we passed under several bridges heavy with city traffice in that New York brochure kind of way rather than the less appealing New York gridlock fashion.
After this trip Kirsty finally persuaded me to accompany her to Subway where we enjoyed the might of the sterling in the form of cookies and crisps with our meal.
Unfortunately this signalled the end of cavorting around SIngapore and all that was left was to make the fun journey to the airport which took just over an hour and involved 3 train changes. Not that we`re bitter. Bali details to follow. By the way Qantas- if you are reading this, your inflight food is crap. Up up BA!
Arriving, as per usual, at midnight in Bali saw us skipping lightly down the steps of the plane and onto the tarmac- charmed in advance by the popularity of Bali as a honeymoon destination and hoping to fulfil Kirsty`s lifelong dream of going there. It was boiling hot, even at that time which we felt was a promising start.
10 minutes later came the first bit of Bali surcharging as the immigration desk demanded 25 quid for visas that we didnt even know we needed. It would have been ten pounds cheaper if we were staying for one day less but hey ho. After paying the gangster behind the desk we proceeded to the taxi desk where the con men think that having a list of tariffs on the wall makes it ok to charge you a kings ransom for a short hop- they almost smile at you as they point to it, knowing that you could barter with them but faced with a whiteboard you are impotent and have no choice but to cough up.
In our overtired state we allowed a young man who arrived with our cab driver to wheel our bags to the taxi at which point, despite having only pushed an airport trolley, he did that annoying little hanging around pointedly thing to let us know he expected a tip. I wondered if he might respond better to being booted in the shins and stuffed in the boot but decided I was being a bit nasty and tipped him the smallest note in rupiah possible- worth about 7p. He was irritatingly pleased with that though so my nastiness failed.
We set out on our journey, marvelling that the cab was less than 25 years old and had leather seats. As we would discover, like most places Bali`s residents would plead poverty despite owning shops and there somehow being enough cars on the road to cause constant gridlock.
About ten minutes in to the drive the driver started to pitch his mates hotel and then asked us where we were staying. We told him and he started to laugh. "Oh Legian Village not so good!" he chuckled to himself while we contemplated the noise he might make as he passed under the wheels of his own taxi. He asked us how much we paid (about 12 quid a night in Sterling) and then, realising that we had paid a fair price simply continued to burble with glee that we had been duped into staying in an absolute dump- if only we`d met him sooner his mocking eyes seemed to say. 20 minutes later we arrived at the Legian Village and neglected to tip him.
The Legian Village is split over two blocks with a swuimming pool and bar + restaurant located in the centre along with reception and the fitness suite. Its in the Kuta area of Bali, the part that was bombed in 2004 and is only now slowly recovering to become a backpacker mecca- which is to say its covered in souvenir shops and manicurists.
Our room was on the second floor and despite the friendly drivers assurances that it would be crap it was actually very nice. It was filled with the sort of cane furniture with cream cushions that you would expect, it had a nice little balcony with a view of the hotel laundry, it also had a telly, aircon and a fridge. And a really soft bed which was nice as Singapore was lovely but Nava`s assertion that if you wanted a double bed all you had to do was push the single ones together had worn a bit thin by the last night!
Naturally having experienced near death by a thousand insects in Thailand we examined the bed for traces of bugs. Finding one lone ranger flitting a lonely course across the pillow K immediately insisted I went to the 24hr off license on the corner, unwittingly springing her own trap. I went willingly, realising that Kuta in the middle of the night is like the Bronx with mopeds. I bought beer and a large blue can of instant smog (which turned out to have a rather pleasant smell causing us to disregard the instructions and inhale it like the gentle scent of spring daffodils whenever we walked into the room) and some chocolate milk to placate K with. She doesnt always approve of beer at 2am.
Upon leaving the off license I was approached by a local chap who was suprisingly friendly. Gliding up on his moped he gave a cheery hello and offered a handshake. I proffered my hand and was somewhat perturbed to be yanked in close to him at which point he whispered urgently in my ear "you want woman?" and "I bring her here, to your room" and I was forced to adopt the nervously British persona that is the only thing these people understand and to brightly splutter "I dont think my fiance would approve of that", resisting the urge to call him "young man" in case he thought I was being patronising and thereby giving him permission to stab me. Still feeling the affects of the 1 beer I had on the Qantas flight I ran up the stairs to our room and regaled Kirsty with news of my adventures. For her part she refused to appear interested until I opened the chocolate milk. At that point she informed me that the bathroom cleaners were either blind, incompetent or both and we lamented the state of the taps until we fell asleep.
Waking bright and early at 11am, having missed the free torture of half toasted bread and crap coffee (they mix rice powder into it as its too strong when neat- they havent worked out to just use half the amount) we went to have lunch.
Those of you who are wondering if todays activities will be discussed in as much detail as yesterdays dont worry. Today we had chicken sate (very nice!), glanced at the beach which meant walking past about a billion shop keepers whose favourite past time is to screech "just loooooking" in a voice that would make you think you were ruining their lives just by not buying a t-shirt from them and also having to avoid the numerous people who shout "transport? transport?" whenever you walk anywhere in Bali. Luckily at the beach Kirsty won a t-shirt and I won a thousand australian dollars. All we had to do to collect the prize was pretend to be over 27, and listen to a 90 minute talk about the new hotel who was sponsoring the draw. We also had to have a full time job. The tout was almost insultingly convinced we were not only 25- maybe days full of this crap has aged us prematurely we said. Almost.
Anyway, on returning from the beach we rented a DVD player for 8 quid a week and bought some DVDs to go with it. We got a range of titles- divided into mine, K`s and Joint. For the record we got: Sweet Home Alabama, The Sound of Music, Evan Almight, My Name is Earl Season 1, Ong Bak, T3, Wild Hogs and Pride and Prejudice. Call it a fiver.
For the next 36 hours we did nothing but eat, watch DVDs and ferverently wish to be invisible whenever a shopkeeper saw us. One particularly charming passive/aggressive woman called Anna had already elicited a promise from us that K would have her nails done at her "salon" and we werent about to make any more wild decisions.
On the fourth day I went to surf school. Being woken at 8.30 by the room phone ringing the driver rather rudely insisted that pickup was always 8.30 no matter what the booking agent told me the day before. Breakfastless and despondent I sat in the minivan until I arrived at Kuta beach where I enjoyed changing outfits 3 times before finally being given a pair of shorts and a shirt that I got the feeling they were proud of and probably referred to as "the biggies" when people like me were not around.
After hanging around for half an hour enjoying stilted conversations with the Balinese surf instructors the other class members arrived. One skinny Polish bloke and 3 Irish girls who were on holiday from teaching Japanese people English. We went to the roof of the hotel and practised standing on the surf boards. One, two, three was all the instructor had to say and we were soon hoofing ourselves to a standing position. 10 minutes later we were in the sea and they helped us find waves for the next couple of hours. I stood up first time and glided into the shore. "Piece of cake" I though to myself watching the others fall off the board. Congratulating myself for being both talented and a quick learner I fell off the board in various ungainly poses for the next half an hour. Whether a lack of talent or pure Karma we`ll never know.
After a couple of hours including a break for a drink of water and a fag for the instructors I was beginning to tire of simply standing on the board but they refused to let us catch our own waves (except for the annoyingly talented Polish bloke) and they also refused to teach me to turn. As Kirsty pointed out later "they probably do that on purpose, to make more money when you have to come back" which I agree with. After the lesson we all showered and traipsed back to the reception and I got a lift back to the hotel with 76 pictures of my session for just ten quid.
That same day we visited Anna`s salon which turned out to be a leather couch in someone else`s shop. Kirsty had a manicure and pedicure and I had the same. K`s was by Anna, a world weary Balinese woman whereas mine from from a whiny little cow who kept saying she had no work, no money, blah blah blah and asked if she could have Kirsty`s flip flops. On the upside the little flowers that Anna painted on K`s nails were rather fetching and the whole sorry ordeal was sweetened by only costing 7 quid. One slightly disturbing thing was the Balinese man showing me souvenir after souvenir and whispering in my ear about each and then getting ruder and more irate when I refused to purchase anything. Never mind, a few episodes of My Name is Earl saw us right. And dinner. And cocktails. Yummy.
The next day we had our best experience experience of Bali (well, so far). We left the hotel at 7.15 in a minivan (we have spent probably over 2 weeks solid in minivans so far on this trip) and pulled up two hours later in Ubud at a restaurant overlooking, or rather, looking up to Bali`s volcano. Surrounded by a lake on either side and some impressive foresty/meadow land running up to the line of black which denotes the last lava waves in 1963 and 1988 the volcano made an impressive backdrop for the not so impressive coffee and the nice egg and tomato sandwich that they rustled up for us.
That wasnt the point of the story though. Thats now. We were at the top of a mini mountain and we proceeded to bike 40 km downhill (except for the 7 uphill that the brochure forgets to point out) through Balinese villages, rice terraces, plantations and other Balinese rural life thingies including a stop at a family compound.
The family had its own mini temple (not unusual) but the rest of its facilities were distinctly rural balinese as you would expect. People spending more on their gods than on their children start to grate after you see so much of it so we`ll move swiftly on. After a stop for fresh banana cake and water at the top of a ridiculously steep hill we went to a plantation. I think I might have looked quite tired at this point as our guide kept asking if I was ok and had the air of a man about to dial the 3rd "9" on his mobile. I survived though. Plantation is quite a grand word for a part of the fields that looked no different to the rest but it was interesting to see coffee, cocao, cinnamon and bananas growing along with the ubiquitous rice terraces.
After this small stop the fun really started. We refused to pay the extortionate prices of some hawkers on a stop next to some rice terraces and I am ashamed to say we cycled off hurriedly muttering to ourselves, even once they agreed to our demands, that they shouldnt have tried to rip us off in the first place. Souvenirless we commenced the final bout of downhill to the hotel where we would have lunch. 2 minutes later we donned ponchos as the rain started. The ponchos funneled the water from the back wheel to our backsides. The rain collected in our laps and dispensed itself into our trainers like a proper little water feature from Wyevale. When I say it rained I actually mean it poured so hard that visibility was a little over 4 feet and the road shimmered with the force of the drops. Luckily we were inside drinking hot tea. Oops no we werent. Thats what we wanted to be doing. What we actually did was hurtle downhill at breakneck speed, practically blind with buckets of water for footwear. We arrived at the hotel 15 minutes later and were immediately struck by its impressive setting. It was more of a guesthouse really and its bright blue pool was set on a terrace which had a 180 degree view of the surrounding countryside and rice terraces with nary another building to interrupt it. Unfortunately we were preoccupied with actually wringing out our clothes and so were distracted from its magnificence. We enjoyed a nice lunch at the guest house before getting a lift home and settling back in with a hot shower and cocktails.
The next day was the very enjoyable Bumbu Bali Cooking School (http://www.bumbubaliresto.com/). Cooking schools as a rule are awesome, especially as you often cook up to 6 courses, and eat them. After the debate about taxi fares worthy of bloody Paxman/Blair we arrived late to the cooking school but one of the friendly waiters took us to the market where the others were shopping for ingredients. Dont be fooled by this quaint practice. We didnt actually buy anything, we used stuff from the restaurants whole salers. It was still very interesting to see the bright baskets of fresh red chillis, the aubergines, the spices, peppers, fly infested meat and other exciting sights of a local market. The place was on two levels too which made it more fun. I almost bought a massive mortar and pestle but we discussed it and realised if it cost 18 quid to post 200g of stuff home then a mortar and pestle was not a good idea.
Back at the restaurant we watched the man cook after he gave us a little lesson on Balinese cooking in general which, suprisingly, was really interesting though we had skipped breakfast again and couldnt help but hope for less chat, more food.
We cooked:
1. Base Gede (basic curry paste, consisting of about 15 spices)
2. Sayur Urab (rice with shredded coconut, chilli and vegetables)
3. Tuna Sambal Matah (tuna steak with a raw hot sauce of chopped chillis, garlic, onions, fish sauce and other niceness)
4. Tempe Manis (tofu with peanuts and sugar)
5. Opor ayam (Curry with chicken and vegetables- extremely good!)
6. Bali sate Lilit (traditional sate, without peanut sauce, as used for ceremonies)
7. Special receipe from the chef (king prawns with a curry sauce)
The chef was really friendly, we bonded so much I cant remember his name but that doesnt detract from his wonderful enthusiasm and the little stories he would tell about the history of the dishes he was making. All the dishes were as lovely as ever and we thoroughly enjoyed eating them. Especially the curry. When we get home we will cook them for you ("you" know who you are).
After the cooking school finished we went shopping in Ubud which is to say that we went to undergo psychological torture at the hands of shopkeepers peddling crap. An interesting example was the purchase of a wooden turtle for 15 thousand rupiah after the shopkeeper started at 200 thousand. They are such complete gits like that, pretending to have no change etc. until you tell them you`ll forget the purchase entirely unless they have change for a 20.
It rained too. Suitably chastened for having the silly thought that a pleasant afternoon could be had souvenir shopping we returned to the hotel for drinks and dinner.
The next day was Christmas Eve. We had planned to go to the beach but unfortunately it was hammering it down. As usual. So instead we had a merry little pre christmas and watched The Sound of Music which K likes and I had never seen. It was most enjoyable and meant that ever since watching it we have been singing bits of the songs- until we saw Singin in the Rain at the Moonlight outdoor cinema in Sydney but you have to wait to hear about that.
After the Sound of Music we ate lunch and grumbled about not being able to go to Tanah Lot where you can see a temple in the sea and watch a reputedly beautiful sunset. But not on a thickly overcast day. We decided to cheer ourselves up with a mexican platter and 9 beers/6 cocktails. And we exchanged Christmas cards. Mine had a monkey on a motorbike on the front.
Rising early on Christmas day we caught a taxi to snow world. An indoor (duh!) exhibition of ice sculptures of the zodiac and various other bits of ice art work. It was minus 20 degrees so the camera died before we got pictures of us going down the 20 metre slide carved from seemingly solid ice.
After the fun of snow world which gave us a light dusting of snow on our crimbo hats and on the big Wal Mart Freezer Worker style jackets they kit you out with we decided to find a McDonalds for a christmas day big mac. Unfortunately a km later it started to rain so after going into a classic balinese internet cafe (Operating System Not Found) and using the toilet with the blown lightbulb and no window we caught a taxi back to the hotel. That morning thanks to an STA oversight and a bit of non christmas spirit by the hotel we had to transfer from our deluxe room to a standard room in the other part of the hotel. This room stank of wee, had a filthy bathroom and was generally dank and dismal. Because of the lack of a telephone in the room we had to walk the 10 mins to reception to receive a call from K`s mum. While they shouted loudly down their respective phones because of a rubbish connection I went to the dusty fitness suite and lifted weights in a tired but dogged sort of way and thought about the buffet that would be served later that evening.
When the buffet finally arrived it was really, really good and we had a ridiculous amount of it silently berating the amateurs we were sitting near. Feeling slightly ill we waited for the pre paid taxi man to turn up and finally had to give in and hire another. Only to be told the fare would be more expensive than usual because of the rain. You understand? asked the man. "No, I do not" I replied and in retaliation he parked under the only uncovered "unloading" section of the car park and sniggered as I got drenched retrieving the suitcases. What a laugh.
After 20 minutes of security checks at the airport and scanning our bags 4 times we checked in only to be told in no uncertain terms we could not leave the terminal between now and departure. No probs we thought. Upstairs before boarding there remained one final suprise. Thanks for your passports the lady at the desk said. Now have you got your 15 pounds cash service charge?
Suppressing the need to shout loudly and become red in the face I told her sweetly (while still wearing the santa hat) that I had no cash and could not leave the terminal to go to the ATM due to security regulations. "Oh no" she said, "thats fine, just rescan your luggage on the way back in".
And so ended Bali. On to Sydney...a place of running water, of waiters who at least pretend to care, of statutory rights and at least a little less begging.
Look under 2008 in the group room!
As you already know, we left Bali at midnight fully prepared for a fun flight to Perth. We arrived in Perth at 5am. We then waited until 10am for our next flight. Which arrived in Sydney at 4pm. Fun all the way! Once we touched down in Sydney we rang the Nomads Maze Backpackers Hostel who came and collected us for free. The bus driver was, as usual, a complete looney who deteriorated slowly over the time we were with him. It started with just a knowing roll of the eyes when the boss called to chase him. He stuck with this for a while, then moving on to a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders when his phone kept ringing. By the time we got to the centre of Sydney he was cursing at full volume, growling and pulling maneouvers like a (bad) stuntman. After 36 hours of sleep deprivation we took it all in in the bemused manner backpacking develops over time.
Once we got to the Maze we gave deposits for almost everything they issued us with and then trooped upstairs to find a sort of Hogwarts minus magic and fun at the top of the stairs. The place is huge. Naturally for over 100 rooms there is one small kitchen. Just adds to the excitement. At least its cheap- only 45 quid a night. There are notices on the wall blithely explaining that installing electrical sockets in the rooms would ruin the architecture but that, great people that they are, Maze would happily charge your phone for you...Free Of Charge. Thanks...for the electricity guys, real competitive advantage you`ve got going there. Ignoring for a moment the uni halls atmosphere of the hostel we should move on to complimenting Sydney.
Since it is so (relatively) new, its possible to enjoy all the benefits of excellent planning in Sydney with skyscrapers and parks dotted around even right in the CBD (Central Business District) and a glut of pavement cafes and bars. Its possible to walk round most of it as long as you dont think itll take less than 2 hours to get anywhere. We have walked miles in the last few days. At least 2 hours solid walking per day. This is facilitated by Pitt St and George St which run parrallel right from Sydney Harbour all the way back to god knows where as it is impossible to walk the entire length of them.
The first night here we enjoyed the novelty of cooking our own food which was nice. We also enjoyed the company of around 20 people in the kitchen at the same time including one girl who proclaimed herself a "long termer" and proudly boasted about serving dinner to 52 people the day before. Frankly, judging from the crap she was eating that day it was a good job she hadnt been sued by them yet. Anyway, we retired to our room and went to sleep. If you are reading this and you work for the MAZE- the fan in room B52 is crap!!!
The next day was a Thursday, this is important as the MAZE hosts a different activity everyday and Thursday`s is always the Bondi- Coogee Beach Clifftop walk. We managed to be late for the meeting in reception but being intrepid folks and almost dizzy with the knowledge we now spoke the locals language we traipsed off up the road and caught the 380 bus to Bondi Beach- yes, the Bondi Beach where we have now been, and you havent. Getjealous.com indeed!
To give you a synopsis of the walk: A five-mile trek connects the two crescent-shaped beaches, passing glitzy Tamarama, Bronte, and Clovelly beaches along the way. Million-dollar homes teeter above the sea, and fitness freaks pound the walk on weekends, despite the crowds (http://www.budgettravel.com/bt-dyn/content/article/2005/12/30/AR2005123001015.html)
Its a lovely walk though it was a bit overcast when we first got to Bondi we took some great pics while the sun was out. The walk is wonderful, the path slopes right along the cliff edge taking in Suicide Point, a cemetery and the only non drinking bowls club in Australia where beer was banned after a drunken stabbing. We only include these details as a pleasant reminder of the walk though- it was a really nice walk and one we repeated in the opposite direction later in the week.
On arrival at Coogee we left Jay, our guide and the other geordie bloke and set off in search of the Coogee Bay Hotel, one of 15 establishments for which you get a free drink voucher when you check into the MAZE.
The rest of Sydney passed in an agreeable blur. A walking filled blur. Most cities have the habit of installing bloody great fly overs and the sort of roads you might expect in Futurama which force you into cars or onto buses to make trips across the city. Not so in Sydney. Its so pleasantly set out, streets wide enough to make the skyscrapers seem impressive rather than imposing. Our hostel was set on a gentle hill too which meant the majority of times we left the hostel we started walking with a pleasant 5 minute downhill stroll which soon turned into hours of plodding. (Ive just realised upon re-drafting this that they have cars that fly in futurama so the roads would be invisible, made as they are, of air, so thats not a good comparison. What I was trying to say, in not so many words is that while Birmingham, UK is a lovely place if you walked across it you would breathe in roughly 5 billion cubic decalitres of poisins emitted by the cars with which you would practically shared the footpath whereas in Sydney you can stroll. And they have a light railway/tramline which feels pleasantly quaint)
In no particular order, here is what we did in Sydney!
Sydney Aquarium:
Big shout out to fake Internation Student Identification for this one- cheers for the 33 per cent off! We walked (suprise!) to the aquarium which is in Clarke Quay, half a mile across from the Opera House. It only took about 30 mins to get there and as usual Sydney was gorgeous- the sun shone brightly and the sky was almost (to choose a poor adjective) searingly blue. These first few days in Sydney were an absolute caricature of what you would expect from Australian weather- so nice as to be ridiculous, with the type of heat that makes you day dream you might be in a rotisserie oven, only imagining you are walking the streets of Sydney when actually you are within minutes of being carved up and served with turkish bread to ravenous giants. Which is exactly why you must remember to drink lots of water. Otherwise you nearly collapse. Or you faint embarrasingly in Sydney Aquarium like one girl did. Cue Nelson Muntz laugh.
Anyway, Sydney Aquarium was pretty much what you would expect. Miles of badly air conned halls covered in wall to ceiling tanks full of exotic fishes and marine life. Unfortunately we have become complete snobs about travelling. "Look Mummy, a turtle" cried one child as it floated above our heads in the 360 degree clear tunnel. "Who cares" thought K and I. Sorry but when you`ve seen one crawl from the sea to lay eggs on a tiny island in Borneo under a billion stars Sydney flippin Aquarium starts to look a bit crap.
We saw seals, crocodiles (lying comatose in a tank), weird jellyfish that glowed, a variety of lethal little spiders. I love these spiders. Normally their prey is something like grasshoppers and yet one of these little fellows could decimate the worlds population if he went on a biting spree. I think one of them killed you in under 10 minutes if it bit you. So tempting to carry a few around in matchboxes. Believe me, it wouldnt be animal cruelty. The little fellas would be out of their box more than in it with some of the people we meet.
I`m trying to think of something more positive to say about the Aquarium but its difficult because its just a giant fish tank that you walk around. Aha, I remember...the sharks were very interesting (I want to say cool but I am 25 now and must get serious). Despite the fact that these particular sharks only eat acorns or whatever they really do look like they are fantasizing about killing you in the bloodiest manner possible. It was down here that the girl fainted. I wouldnt be suprised if the sharks just stared her out. Now that would be cool.
Upon leaving the Aqaurium we realised that we had been secretly transported to Venus as the temperature was clearly at least 462 °C ("Venus (Planet)."The Encarta Concise Encyclopedia. 19 December 1999.). We had lunch under a flight of stairs like proper hobos except these were nice quayside stairs and so we didnt feel too much like beggars. We then marvelled at the fact that the public toilets were free of charge, and clean. Australia gets 10 out of 10 for toilets by the way.
Moonlight Cinema
Because I am a fantastic fiance with only the happiness of Kirsty in mind I didnt immediately shut down Internet Explorer when I stumbled upon the Moonlight Cinema page...I booked us two tickets to watch Singin In the Rain at the outdoor cinema that evening in Centenary Park. "Its only a 20 minute walk" said the bloke at the hostel reception. Uh huh. 20 minutes uphill struggle will bring you to the edge of Centenary Park but CP is a park in the same way that the Brecon Beacons are a park (well, almost) and it took another 90 minutes of walking to get to the cinema. In fact, we had to practically jog the last mile as otherwise we would have missed the show.
Eventually we got there and hurriedly rented a couple of bean bag chairs. We had packed a picnic and some wine and we soon settled down just as the adverts were finishing. The setting was a gentle downhill slope/bowl in the park with a massive screen at the bottom, we sat about halfway up. We sat just behind the Gold Grass enclosure. You get a little table in Gold Grass and a free beanbag. But its 20 bucks cheaper to sit just behind. Mugs.
Singin in the Rain is rated 10 out of 10 by most film sites but I reckon (and K agrees) that the Sound of Music is better. Singin in the Rain was good though. So was the houmous. There were loads of old couples sitting in wheelchairs who we thought were probably in the cinema when it was first released which was a pleasant thing to think about once the wine ran out.
After the film we wandered to the bus stop and shared the bus with a load of skank ho`s one of whom had blood running down her leg, probably from when she fell out the ugly tree. Probably got disorientated from all the smack.
Taronga Zoo
Taronga Zoo is over the other side of Sydney Harbour and so we had the pleasure of a ferry across the harbour (see snapfish for pictures- lots of them, sorry but digital cameras mean I can take 30 crap photos just as easily as I can take 1, and then make you look through them. Ill produce some sort of "best of" when we are back in England if you are too lazy to look before then).
We were helped in the queue by some bloke in a naval uniform (as in Navy not large belly button) who did his best to act jovial despite the immense heat until someone accused him of being a salesman instead of a helper at which point he suddenly drew himself up to his full height, aquired a crocodile dundee/John Wayne steely glint in his eye and explained in no uncertain terms he was there to help and left it unsaid that he could either help them get a ferry or else help them arrive somewhat prematurely in the afterlife.
I`m always reassured by an air of barely restrained savagery, mainly because I identify with it readily so it was with light hearts that we boarded our craft and munched into the fresh strawberries that we had thought it might be gay (in the older sense) to eat on the boat. As they were Coles (the Oz equivalent to Asda quality at Waitrose prices) Strawberries they were uniformly crap so that idea failed.
As we motored across the harbour it was a nice time to take stock of having arrived in Sydney, I think this was because the Opera House and the bridge were mere backdrops to our purpose today rather than the focus of it. In much the same way that Londoners dont notice trafalger square the 500th time we tried our best to become immune to Sydney Harbour. Unfortunately the setting of the harbour is stunning so we failed. Still, nothing wrong with at least attempting to find things underwhelming.
Arriving at Taronga Zoo the queue for the cable car was massive and unshaded. The main entrance to the Zoo was 5 minutes walk up a gentle hill so the masses didnt attempt it. After having climbed Mount Kinabalu we laugh at mere hills (sometimes aloud, by mistake, and sometimes in a particularly cynical manner which makes strangers hurry off) and so we trudged to the entrance. What I like to do at Zoos and other public attractions is be almost knocked to the ground by the delinquents that pass for children these days in an attempt to get to the bogs to soak my feet and flip flops in strangers urine. Mission accomplished we set off into the park to see a gorilla feeding.
Set on a hill which mysteriously seemed to slope upwards no matter if you turned 180 degrees and walked the other way we made it to the gorilla sanctuary. Fading in and out somewhat because of the heat and a pervasive certainty that my blood was starting to gently simmer in my veins thanks to the heat we enjoyed a rather long talk on Chimps and Gorillas which boiled down to two facts. One- they`ll kill you if you go anywhere near them. Two- they are like us down to the fact that they will not entertain you with acrobatics when its so hot you feel you might wither and die at any moment.
After this interesting spectacle we went to a giraffe talk where we found out that giraffes have massive tongues and that photos with the giraffes cost extra. After one of the most expensive diet cokes I have ever drunk we went off in search of roos. Eventually we found one. It was doing exactly what we would have like to do i.e. lying pathetically on the floor panting lightly and looking generally hacked off with the weather.
I`ll summarise briefly the other animals: koala- boring. Elephants- old news when you`ve ridden one through thai rainforest, Ostriches- uniformly disturbing, reptiles- memories of the Northampton Show at Abington Park, lions- lazy gits.
The redeeming feature- the live bird show. We sat in an ampitheatre and watched as loads of different birds stole coins from audience members on command, as massive hawks swooped about and as other brightly coloured birds did tricks. Impressive also was the clear view back across the harbour where we could easily see both bridge and opera house.
Free Coogee Beach BBQ
Another free activity put on by the Maze Hostel (I can think of a better organised activity- how about, clean your crap up in the kitchen day?) is the Coogee Beach BBQ. Lured by the prospect of saving money and eating we joined the throng making its way to the Liverpool Street bus stop and on to Coogee Beach. CB is a very nice place too with free BBQ huts, a nice strip of sand, cliffs on either side and a pleasant seafront stretch of shops. We wandered around the shops and bought a diet coke, laughed silently at the Aussie behind the counter who said Snags instead of sausages and then read our books on the beach. The sun here is like a laser and just as lethal when you cross its path. With a magnifying glass you would be the equivalent of the baddie in Die Another Day who uses Icarus, a giant diamond umbrella to focus the suns rays and kill his enemies.
Anyway, we wandered up to the BBQ and saw a load of slack jawed backpackers roaming about shirtless with empty burger buns waiting for the tesco value "beef" burgers to cook on the hotplate (which is what they mean by BBQ here when you are talking public ones). Somewhat put off by the pasty white moobs on display (not mine, I have a tan!) we escaped to a nearby takeway/cafe where we ordered tandoori chicken and salad. Then, because K is slightly mental we decided to do the Coogee to Bondi walk, the reverse of the walk we did in the first two days here. 2 hours later we were in Bondi. The walk was just as good going back the other way and we had the interesting sight of people actually jogging it to keep us going.
New Year`s Eve
I`m still wondering whether to rave about this or to be a cynical old man about it. I`ll aim for the middle ground. You can choose a number of "vantage points" from which to view the show some of which are security managed, some of which you cannot take your own alcohol and some of which are mostly obscured by trees despite being the most popular point in Sydney!
I never thought to get a harbour cruise on NYE though looking back that would have been a good idea. Still, never mind. We chose Mrs Macquaries Chair as a vantage point. Security managed with no BYO we thought this would ensure a minimum of raving drunks and no chance of being crushed to death in a crowd. We started queueing at 11.30am. It was so hot we had to use umbrellas in the queue to create some shade. We got in the place at 1pm only to find it bloody crammed. We staked out some ground under a tree, got some rental chairs and settled down to pass the next 11 hours. All the decent spots were gone but in the end, some hours later, we managed to get a bit of space where we could clearly see half the bridge and most of the opera house in the distance.
I only had one glass of wine because I dislike being hammered in a crowd of 20k people (sue me) and we ate our lovingly prepared picnic over the day. Nearer midnight we stood at our vantage point and watched the last red ball fall out of the big egg timer made of lights on the side of the harbour bridge.
I only have one problem with the display. It is simulataneously done from 7 or 8 barges along the whole harbour. A lot like taking a street of 100 houses and having every 10th house let off exactly the same fireworks at exactly the same time. You can tell me that it cost a million pounds but I know it costs 100k if there are 10 of the same display. I have no idea what the display does cost but you get the point.
Anyway, slightly less fireworks than we thought and an 11 hour wait aside it was a great display and some fireworks are released from the top of the skyscrapers that are harbourside.
Everyone clapped when it was finished though I did notice in Sydney that noone really wishes you a happy new year after about 12.30am whereas in England you seem to get it from every random stranger for the next week or two.
We walked home through the park where people were swimming in the fountain and enjoyed being out at 1am with so many people walking the streets and generally being an excitable yet not murderous crowd, something thats so rare in Northampton.
New Year`s Day
This is not the most exciting part but I guess K and I would like to remember it as it was our anniversary (8 years). After looking for a gym for hours (I like to do something exercisey and superior on NYD) we gave up and went to a weirdly exclusive restaurant where the doors look bulletproof, you have to sign in and then take a lift up 3 floors where the lift opens directly into the restaurant. Nice mafiaesque feel about that place.
Being scum we were ready with a two for one offer we had found on the back of the ticket stub from watching PS I Love You a couple of days earlier. Hence, after a week or so of cooking on a hot plate we had a massive roast lamb with port sauce roast dinner which put us in high spirits. Even better was that it was effectively half price. Even better than that was that we ordered minutes before another table who were then told the roast was finished. Is there anything better than knowing you are getting the last portions of roast lamb, half price? Ho ho ho.
After the feast we went out for a couple of drinks though it must be said that we have a bad habit of choosing gambling dens, decrepit old hotel bars and seedy looking clubs. We wont wonder why that is just now.
The Maze Backpackers
This is the name of the pleasant hovel in which we stayed. I have no idea how you get a fan`s blades to spin that quickly and yet produce literally no breeze at all. Also- if you are a former Maze resident let me clue you in- if someone is holding a pan of rapidly boiling water and looking worried that they might drop it try actually getting the hell out of the way rather than just staring mournfully at nothing in particular like a horse thats just had its nosebag swiped unexpectedly.
Other highlights in this dump include no clean sheets for 8 days (until we demanded some), the unbelievably rude girl on reception, the need to show uniformed security your key after 8.30pm (very reassuring) and the tv room that looked and smelt like Northampton Bus Station.
Very nice. Still, only 45 quid a night so who are we to moan?
Sydney Conclusion
Couldnt leave this entry on a downer could we? Sydney is a lovely place, the harbour is pretty, the parks and streets are clean and pleasant to walk around. There are loads of backpacker facilities and not everything from Coles tasted like crap.
The top thing to do in Sydney is easily the Bondi to Coogee Beach Walk.
Bye for now!
We left Sydney at 6am- we thoroughly enjoyed our pre sunrise showers- I had more lie ins in England than we have had travelling... though I did collapse onto the bed mid afternoon and sleep for 2 hours a lot less frequently at home- balance in all things.
Today was the first day of our Oz Experience bus. I swear that when the lady at STA travel sold this bus to us she said (and I quote almost word for word) "The Oz Experience buses are much better than the Greyhound buses, though nearly 400 quid more expensive they travel on much smaller and newer buses, often with just 15 passengers. The best thing is that on longer drives they pull over at a supermarket, load sandwiches and beer into the on board cooler and then enjoy a few beers on the journey".
Hence we were somewhat perturbed that the first thing we saw on the wall of the OzEx office was a giant sign saying "Australian Government regulations prohibit smoking and he drinking of alcohol inside tourist vehicles in Australia", not that getting pissed on a bus in the middle of the afternoon is my idea of fun but hey, its more laid back than laminating posters of legislation and blu tacking them in prominent positions on the wall which I began to believe could conceivably be one of the Oz Experience free activities. One more moan before I start the story- dont frickin tell me something is "included" or "complimentary" when I paid 1000 pounds each for the pass. Dont piss on my leg and tell me its raining.
Anyway, the small bus turned out to hold 50 people but I guess everything`s relative. To some people maybe STA thought that 50 people was a small number on a bus. Maybe they send everyone else on Airbus A380s. Or maybe they lied. What does it matter now. How is dreaming of feces filled envelopes and their letterbox helping anyone? Better just to get on with things. I dont know about you but I regularly spend a 1000 pounds without really worrying whether what I get in return fits the description I was given. As many a sign said in Bali "Antiques...made to order". I kid you not.
Anyway (again), Pistol Pete was our bus driver for this day who made up for what we had seen so far by being a sarcastic, family guy watching Aussie who called small towns along the way "excitement machines", mocked the Geordie girls at the front by saying in a high pitched voice as we passed a particularly impressive river "its beautiful innit" and by yelling "go hard" for no reason when we stopped at a petrol station. Good lad.
We listened to his interesting music along the way, tried to ignore the 40 or so children on the bus (in my considered opinion you should have to either be over 21, or gagged before being allowed out of the country on your own) and spent an inordinate amount of time in roadside cafes.
One of the funniest moments was when a girl at the back of the bus couldnt breathe. Ask us about that one and we`ll tell you in person. I cant quite convey the earnestness of the girl who told us that she would have given her ibuprofen but that might have killed her. Uh huh. Still, it provided many a little britain joke along the usual "get the polo mints" "no- this is serious, she needs foxes glacier mints" vein.
I would like to reassure you that no silly little girls were harmed in the creation of the above anecdote and I hope you know that we will only laugh at stupidity and amateur dramatics, not emergencies. Well, K wouldnt anyway.
Also- remind us to tell you about the girl yesterday who when watching an ant run off with one of her friends french fries said “its like that film...Antz”. Cyanide capsules to table 2 please!
We got to Surf Camp in the pouring rain. Maybe its me, but if you get a rugby player he doesnt assume that you think he is awesome because he plays rugby, meet a golfer and he wont try to interest you in the game...however, meet a surfer and he will assume that you wish you could surf, that you understand how cool he, and surfing really are, and that you know he gets more action than you. And his teeth are whiter. Only scuba divers can compete when it comes to incredulity in the face of anything but a fervent need to take part in their sport. Gits.
That first night at surf camp we ate in a shelter that necessitated eating one handed so the other could hold the umbrella against the horizontal rain. On the up side the tacos were knarly. We went to a genuine Aussie pub which is to say a huge barn like structure selling rubbish wine but somehow still be pleasing on the eye. Kind of like a big working mens club with that sort of friendly atmosphere and outdated arcade machines. It was pretty good. Just like all surfers we slept in a 4 bunk metal container which had been shipped in a couple of days prior to accommodate the additional seasonal demand. Ah the sound of raindrops on corrugated metal. Is there anything better?
At 6.30am we veritably sprang from our beds, keen to get out there in the drizzle and carve some tubes. The breakfast was nice, included as was the whole experience- though we had to pay a local payment as OzEx call it of 100 dollars. Ho ho ho. I cant even re-read that without my eyes turning a bright red and without howling at the moon.
After breakfast we enjoyed a safety talk with the guys. Why surf with a partner? So you dont get lonely one wiseguy quipped. Most amusing. Dont go onto the rocks or you`ll get “totally f*cking shredded”. Indeed.
A short while later we were realising that the wetsuits had been badly rinsed and that half of Fraser Island (the worlds largest sand island- is that even something to boast about?) was down the back of them. We walked down to the beach in the drizzle and stared at the beach in mute shock. We werent here for the lifeboat training course.
Surely smooth waves and a clear blue sky were what the doctor ordered- not this mess of churning white water. Still, never mind. We had a go. Kirsty did incredibly well considering she hates the sea at the best of times and I spent most of my time clinging on to my board. She spent a good amount of time in the water and then retired to the beach to have a rest and talk to the other 50 per cent of the group who had had enough by this time. I strongly suspect that the only reason they took us out that day was to avoid the hassle of people complaining about missing a complimentary activity.
That very day we headed into Byron Bay. 20 years ago Byron was a secluded place, famous in a quiet sort of way with hippies and people into a laid back organic lifestyle. These days its the same but with prices increased 10 fold, Subway`s low fat subs where there used to be houses and hair nets in the cafes instead of stray bits of dreadlock in your meal. In case you get the wrong idea I dont think this is a good thing.
The room we stayed in was 55 quid. Let me re-state that. The HOSTEL ROOM THAT WE STAYED IN WAS 55 POUNDS STERLING. Wikipedia will tell you that “For travellers, the main benefits of hostels include:The low price of the accommodation compared to alternatives“. Uh huh. Anyway, that aside, the stinking attitude of the bloke behind the counter meant that instead of staying multiple nights we used his phone to book a bus out of there for the next day. A lot of other people followed suit. Ask yourself one question- “am I insufferably arrogant” (I mean you, not me!) if the answer is yes then consider a career running a hostel. You`ll fit right in.
We had managed to ascertain prior to our interaction with the troglodyte on reception that there are only two activites worth your time in BB anyway. 1) Walking to the lighthouse, the most easterly point in Oz. 2) Going to the monthly market, a collection of organic jams and chutneys, tie dyed clothes and acoustic music.
Lucky for us we had the rest of the day to walk to the lighthouse and half the next day to enjoy the market and that is exactly what we did. Though it was cloudy BB really is very pretty with a large-but-not-too-large beach, free BBQs to use, a kiddies playground and cliffs in the distance. All very becoming.
We strolled the 5km walk to the lighthouse (including 200 steps) despite at least 4 different people sucking air through their teeth and saying it was a long way when we stopped to clarify directions. “Don`t you morons understand?” we wanted to shout. “We`ve climbed a mountain. A mountain that is higher than the plane goes for most sky dives. No walk can ever intimidate us ever again unless it takes more than 16 hours and contains more than 8000 stairs and threatens to grind away your very soul.” But we didnt shout. We just thanked them and carried on.
It was a really nice walk. When I write that I feel I should italicise it for emphasis the way I imagine a pensioner would- a really nice walk. If I say things like that now, what will I say when I`m 30? Anyway, I digress. Despite the humidity making us lightheaded we enjoyed the walk. Australia knows how to do coastal walks (we did another today in Airlie Beach) and it was very relaxing.
To be continued. The girl behind the counter has suddenly realised that the personality she has is an awful one and has decided to hurry out for a transplant.
SO...now that we are in a new hostel "The Civic Guesthouse" in Townsville we can continue the Byron Bay story. The Civic Guesthouse for those of you who are interested is the sort of place that has a video player in the common room (1st one we`ve seen in Oz), a generally derelict sort of a feel to it and yet it also has a large freestanding jacuzzi. WTF.
The lighthouse was quite quaint and even had a beardie weirdie doing car park duty and looking like the only thing he would love more than telling people about the lighthouse would be having a bit of a break with his flask of tea. So sweet.
Anyway, we wandered about at the lighthouse for a bit and took some pictures whilst moaning about the weather. Then we walked back. That eve we went to Cheeky Monkeys as it was a quid for a thai curry that evening and we got to see people playing bizarre games in return for prizes. Sort of like a carry on film crossed with a Great Yarmouth Social Club. With thai curry.
The next day we went to the monthly market which was a bit like the Northampton Town Show used to be only with no double glazing firms and no reptile tent. Actually, it wasnt really anything like the NTS except for being staged in a grassy area and having a band playing. Apart from those things it was quite refreshingly different. By which I mean there was free food samples. Mmmm yes that organic homemade eggplant chutney is delicious. Buy some?? Ill allow an amused raising of the eyebrows to that particular suggestion. And so it went on. We almost didnt need lunch. But then we did.
As well as food (ever seen a food van that sells 6 different salads? Disconcerting) there were various stalls selling tie dyed crap (Im not paying 50 dollars for a red t-shirt with domestos poured on it), wooden kids toys (these are supposed to be cheap! Thats why they are whittled from wood you hippie maniacs) and bangles (a dope smokers answer to the Tiffany catalogue apparently). Dont get me wrong, it was a nice market, you`d just have to be a mug to do anything but go round eating free crackers covered in free chutney. Are we`re no mugs.
Later that day we took some photos of the bay as it was a particularly bright and clear day, after which we boarded the bus to surfers paradise. And believe me, if a surfers idea of heaven is a surfeit of quiksilver shops, a hell of a lot of poor quality coffee bars and an unsolveable mess of a street plan then the name is apt.
We stayed several days in Surfers but thanks to my lackadaisical attitude towards promptly updating the blog, to say nothing of it taking several days to think how to distill SP into a few hundred words, we have forgotten the exact order in which we did things but hopefully whats below is roughly in order and the photos uploaded to Snapfish should show you whether I have remembered it in order or not.
We arrived late afternoon in SP, we didnt do much that first night other than wander into town which took about 15 minutes from our accommodation. We bought ingredients from Woolworths and had dinner at the hostel. On the way to Woolworths we stood on the beach in the late dusk light and took some interesting pictures with the sweep of the sea one side of the frame, the swathe of sand down the middle and the skyscrapers on the other, hopefully we will post them soon.
We stayed in a 6 bed dorm room that night as no doubles were available and as usual we were impressed by the display of incompetence that never fails to be shown by other dormers. We were woken at 3.30am by someone having forgotten their key to the room. Surely its not that difficult? You have your key and your wallet...god help these people and those they have to interact with in the future. If you cant even remember that at some point you are going to come home and need that little piece of metal to make the big piece of wood move out of the doorway then you are doomed. Oh well, I supposed someone has to clean the country`s sewers.
The next morning we transferred with some relief into a dorm room in another hostel. This hostel was a lot better though as they had a free fitness suite, a tennis court, a decent kitchen and a vending machine that sold muesli bars.
We pottered about in town that day and bought the WWOOF book www.wwoof.org.au I think is the web address. Basically its a list of 1500 farms that will give you food and accommodation in exchange for 4 hours work a day. The farms offer you the chance to integrate with an Aussie family in a much more hands-on (no smirking) way than the traditional fruit picking jobs do. Plus, they tend to provide opportunities for leisure activities and to learn/be taught a lot more about local conditions in a more interesting way than you might find picking grapes for minimum wage.
We had found a weird internet cafe attached to a hotel the evening before where we had called home and then enjoyed a glass of what the barman called engine cleaner (cheap red wine) at 2am. We returned there after buying the WWOOF book to ring Wayne who we met on the intrepid borneo trip.
He was already waiting outside in his silver porsche to pick us up. We did a walk round a few different restaurants but Wayne understood we were on a budget so we ended up having massive steaks at a posh italian restaurant where the bill cost K and I 135 dollars. We are going to see Wayne again soon- I calculate that for a weekend at his house we will need approximately 1000 dollars. On the other hand, he is very good company.
After the meal we went to a casino though I had committed the cardinal sin of wearing flip flops so we were not allowed to gamble however we were permitted to have drinks. Vanilla absolut and diet coke is the way forward when you have skipped dessert in favour of an espresso.
After the drinks we attempted to carry on elsewhere but Wayne is now well past 50 and so cant stay out after 11pm. So we went home. When we got there the usual dorm room rules were in force.
1) The fans must be so noisy its impossible to sleep with them on.
2) The room must be so hot that its impossible to sleep with the fans off.
3) There must be at least 2 arrogant fools who think that as long as they want to sit on the doorstep listening to music on their mobiles, smoking and drinking crap beer that they are expanding their minds and discovering new things whilst traversing the globe.
4)My head will explode with the effort of not quietly sharpening one of the rods that make up the ladder to the top bunk and then yelling a war cry whilst simultaneously javelinning it across the room and directly through the windpipe of at least one of the aforementioned fools.
The next morning we transferred to a private double room and the simple fact of having 20 seconds with noone saying "its like, erm, you know" made me want to weep in gratitude. This day was the first of many we have had where we paid a ridiculous price to do something but it turned out to be worthwhile.
The event in question was the Australian Outback Spectacular (http://outbackspectacular.myfun.com.au/) which is a 3 hour horse, camel, dog and cattle show which explains what life is like on a traditional Aussie ranch. They serve steak as part of a 3 course meal and they give out free wine in big glass goblets. What`s not to love? It was incredibly well staged and the atmosphere was upbeat, people had to mexican wave and stamp their feet to cheer for their elected ranch and once the free wine had been flowing people got into the mood. The whole thing was amazing which it damn well should have been for 55 quid a ticket but it was a pleasant suprise that for once the money we paid was justified and the whole evening was extremely memorable. And we got to keep the cowboy hats.
The next day we hung listlessly round the hostel waiting for the bus to Brisbane. K and I and another girl went for a 6 dollar italian lunch down the road which was nice. It was made interesting by the black grit on top of their soft drinks cans, the rather good spag bol and the giant birds with enormous beaks that half terrorise any restaurant in Oz now that they have worked out its easier to stalk left overs than actual prey.
If at any point this post appears unnaturally vitriolic its because this stinking website just lost 800 words of fine blogging. There are also problems with the keyboard in that the letters l, k, i, e and j dont really work so please forgive any spelling errors. Still, read on and marvel at the fun we have had so far...
We arrived in Brisbane at 8pm and for because I hate being in a good mood I took us on an unnecessary 3km walk around a building site that is to become the new Brisbane transport centre not realising that we should have simpy walked through the multi storey carpark, up 10 flights of stairs, down a long featureless corridor and up 3 escalators if we wanted to get into the old one.
On the up side that little detour allowed us to miss the last transfer bus as the puddle drinker from the hostel gleefully explained when I rang them. Never mind we thought, if there is one think we like its missing ther last bus by 3 minutes and having to pay triple to go in a taxi.
The driver was obviously on a rare break from touring the country, treating the masses to his sell out comedy shows. As he convulsed with laughter at his own patter we gradually got the point that we had chosen the most boring and lifeless hostel in town. The joke`s on him, we thought to ourselves. We hate bloody rowdy kiddy flashpackers anyway especially the ones who are travelling between A Levels and Uni because they need a break.
Anyway the taxi drive was not much fun, beacause his cousin was from Kettering we were denied the usual sport of telling him that Northampton is built on depleted uranium and powered by the distilled corpses of radiation poisining. Or more plausible, that its just outside Newcastle, or Cardiff- an inexplicably pleasing lie especially as its always taken at face value- as indeed it should be by people who dont realise that its not polite to ask for a definite geographical reference if they have no idea where anything except London is. It just makes them unsuspecting prey.
We were checked into the hostel by a strange man who looked like a WWF wrestler but also like he was on the verge of tears and the hostel was quite good by our low standards. No dead animals under the bed. No chainsaw noises from next door. An eerie submarine like feel to it but theres nothing wrong with a bit of atmosphere.
We went wandering off to Broadway, a long street filled with restaurants only to spend an hour deliberating outside various windows, looking longingly at greek mezze menus, deciding with uncharactisteric decivsiveness that we would go to Coles to get 2 minute noodles and then inexplicably find ourselves sitting in a nice little cafe/coffee house wondering how aussies pronounce foccacia and why places like this always have such lovely thick cakes.
The sandwiches were delicious as were the greek dips that I left Kirsty with while I went for a brisk 20 minute stroll to discover all the bottle shops had closed, it was 9pm afterall but I didnt really mind because I hate to eat without sweat trickling down my back anyway .
Predictably we enjoyed large slabs of blueberry cheescake after the meal and made our way back to the hostel, half proud half guilty at this monumental financial and calorific indulgence.
On a side note especially for Kay I should point out that all alcohol here is no less expensive than in the UK and if anything, the wine is of a poorer quality and averages 4 quid for the very cheapest bottles- hence why I dont drink much here and you dont hear much about it! Hopefully in NZ it will be cheaper though I will be driving everyday and after watching The Hills Have Eyes we will be ready to roll out of town at a moments notice!
The next day I watched with envy some bloke slobbing about on the sofa playing a rented XBOX then cheered myself up by stealing a 3 in 1 Dean Koontz hardback and enjoying a free shuttle bus back to town where we were promptly picked up by the good people of City Backpackers, a pleasant hostel where we would spend the next 4 nights.
The hostel was of a higher than usual standard with a dining patio/balcony, a decent Irish pub on site with the hilarious tag line of "Liquour in the front, poker in the rear" though it didnt really live up to this type of tawdry style- it was actually like a normal Irish pub.
The first day there was spent on going to the local gym (a fitness first) where the receptionist tried desperately to sell us ten visit passes. I dont know why but the fitness first staff are all pathetic salespeople. In the one in Sydney one of their trainers showed me the correct form for weighted lunges and then proceeded to offer me a tailored program for just 150 dollars. Just F off.
After the gym we cooked a nice meal (tuna mayo pasta- just 2.25 pounds sterling per 2 servings!) and I attempted to win the killer pool tournament but went out quite near the end. It was a nice way to spend the evening though, especially as all the lads are eyeing you up for a fight at the start of the night but your best mate by the end of it which reminds me of home. Though the second bit is a rarity in Northampton.
On the Friday we were looking forward to seeing Jack and Helen that eve who were on the Intrepid China tour and were driving down from wherever they live normally so we could go out for dinner together. In the day we went to the gym again and enjoyed another thorough workout. We also did a bit of shopping in town. Like most couples there`s nothing we enjoy more than traipsing round clothes shops getting progressively more ratty with each other. After all this fun it was time to go and get ready.
We were waiting in our room for Jack and Helen at 7.,45 and they were 15 minutes late when a bloke from reception came in and said "theres an old guy waiting for you in reception". Jack is young at heart but his white hair can lead to people jumping to conclusions about his age. I protected him from the receptionist`s hurtful remark by only repeating it 4 times that night to anyone who would listen.
Jack and Helen brought their daughter and her boyfriend with them and we all enjoyed an extremely good Indian meal including tandoori lamb. In case you cant tell Im writing this before lunch and drooling slightly at the memory. After dinner the daughter and boyfriend went off to a party and J+H took us back to the same coffee shop that we ate the sandwiches in on the first night.
As J+H had bought us dinner we bought the coffee and cake. After chatting for a couple of hours J+H dropped us off at the hostel and we arranged to meet the next day (Saturday) to see some of Brisbane`s sights.
The next morning we met Jack and Helen and walked over the bridge into town. We caught the citycat catamaran that is a form of public transport in Brissy. It was a bright clear, hot day and we spent about 20 minutes cruising up the river. We got off at someplace we dont remember the name of and walked through a nice park until we came to the seedy red lighty bit of town which by day is a very pleasant collection of cafes and shops. After more coffee and sandwiches we went wandering around a market and looked in some shops for suitcases. After that we took the train home and J+H said their farewells.
Our final day in Brissy was spent mostly wandering around the modern, busy city centre checking out clothes shops (huzzah!) and trying to buy some suitcases. As usual, being Oz, everything was bloody expensive and we ended up with 2 big suitcases for 70 quid.
Though it seems lazy to have a suitcase on wheels future travellers heed this warning- backpacks are more cumbersome than suitcases, their soft shells make them a nightmare to pack, they dont open all the way round like a case meaning that everything you need is always at the bottom and lastly the soft shell also means that anything breakable will shatter when 30 other backpacks land on yours in the back of a bus.
That night we phoned a few people back home and enjoyed their crazy tales of the whirlwind of fun that is life in Northampton and then retired to the dorm room to have a glass of wine and feel smug that we were not going to have to get up for work for another 257 days. Tee hee.
We got picked up at 6.30am from Brisbane, just outside a little hostel 500 metres from ours, a short walk which provided the perfect opportunity to pat ourselves on the back for buying wheeled cases so we were still smooth and unruffled when we got to the bus. As usual it was a scramble for the best seats and I am proud to say that Kirsty and I are a veritable tag team of shovers and blockers now after the last few months. Aint no mofo sitting at the front of the bus when we are around!
After driving for a few hours through liquid sunshine while the driver oohed and aaahed about various filthy brown lakes and their unprecedented high levels we arrived in Rainbow Beach, a place famed for Carlo`s Sandblow (insert your own lewd comment) and the coloured sands which are caused not by pollution (cue hearty laugh from locals) but by iron ore in the sand!
We were staying at Pippies Guesthouse but they promptly led us down the road to a roasting hot little flat above a chippy- reminding us subtly of what life could have been like if we hadnt got our A Level grades- kudos Mr Liddington, kudos- and left us there to settle in. Though only one electrical outlet worked and despite the hammering rain we had an ace up our sleeve- Point Break and Shrek 2 on DVD. Booyah. Rain Schmain baby!
We had an Irish couple staying with us so we made crappy travellers chit chat whilst both couples tried to hide the massive thought balloon coming out of their heads with "this would have been so much better if it was just us" written on them. They revealed the secret to budgeting was eating rice krispies and we revealed that we were having mexican chicken with rice followed by a nice glass of red. Different outlooks I suppose.
The next day we went for a thoroughly enjoyable walk. After breakfasting on the free breakfast at the main hostel- we managed a rather sedate 2 bits of toast this time rather than the usual 6 I like to eat when its free- we enquired about walking to the rainbow sands only to be laughed at (remember we are directly in Rainbow Beach at this time) and told to walk to Carlo`s Sandblow instead.
The sandblow is a huge sand cliff/dune made from the prevailing winds. It was a pleasant walk to the sandblow though as usual the locals said it was a trek when actually it took about 30 mins. Getting out onto the sandblow is a suprise as you emerge from a salcey forestish walking track straight out onto the contour of the top of the blow and all you can see is that quite clearly, you are on an enormous mound of sand- to your right, with the wind at your back is an impressive view of the town, to your left is an uninterrupted run of sand, dramatically ribbed with black lines of minerals, a few scraggly trees and what looks like a sheer drop to the sea below as the sand slopes down about 50 metres away from you.
Walking left to see how much sand blasting the old legs could take we made it down to the bit where you are allowed no further- if this were England there`d be a fence but here there is a sign and the general air that only a complete galah would go against its advice. We took a lot of pictures and probably permanently buggered the camera but this place was worth it. Its the best place we`d been for ages and best of all it was free of charge, almost deserted (certainly no tourists) and was the perfect place to race about barefoot and cursing the sand that got everwhere.
Like dogs that had been for a decent day out we happily returned to the Supa IGA in town, tongues hanging out and bought some more ingredients for dinner that night. When we got back the Irish had disappeared and noone else had moved in so we had the place to ourselves. We watched a Bond DVD and had dinner. Moving along the sofa to avoid the slightly dripping ceiling we drank the rest of the vino and put the photos on the DVD player that we had burnt to DVD that day. Revived and revitalised by images of Thailand and KL we talked for a while about how we could take more and better photos and then went to bed. These two last actions are not linked.
The next morning we got up at 6.30am to be ready for a 7am pickup to go to Tin Can Bay and feed the dolphins. An older couple picked us up and attempted to talk about their travelling days but at that time of the morning they didnt get a lot of response. We decided that they were the sort of people used to a lack of response and so let them carry on.
We drove for 10 minutes and then transferred to a small vessel and chugged across the bay with some other tourists. Arriving at Tin Can Bay we bought a cup of tea at the substandard overpriced cafe and tried to dodge the pelicans so we could get to the toilets. The dolphins didnt show up that day but we should say that to their credit the people who ran the boat offered to take us the next day for free, and to continue doing so, free of charge until such a time as we did see dolphins. Most impressive.
Arriving back at the hostel/flat we packed the rest of our stuff and went to get the Oz bus to Hervey Bay, gateway to Fraser Island!
Arriving in Hervey Bay at 5pm we checked into the Aussie Woolshed which is easily the most pleasant hostel that we have stayed in so far in Australia. Our room was a little attic conversion that was almost like a B&B where you cook your own B. The owners were friendly and their toddler made the place feel a little more welcoming than the usual sterile backpacker dives we stay in.
We walked to Woolworths (this is always a reliable way to see a town) which took about 45 minutes but was like walking through a tiny version of the neighbours set though with a more rural style to it. We bought our groceries and wandered back- the pavements were so clean and warm from the days sun that we walked barefoot. We cooked dinner in the tiny kitchen in the corner of a converted barn decorated with cleaned and dried beer and spirit bottles on all the beams around the place. After dinner we went to sleep in the comfy bed.
In the morning we had breakfast and then went to wait for the coach- we had a scare when K said she`d seen it drive off when she was still 10 metres from reception but it turned out that was a different tour and 10 minutes later our 4WD coach turned up. After a bit of faffing around we took the coach onto the ferry over to Fraser Island which is " Fraser Island - stretching over 123 kilometres along the southern coast of Queensland. Fraser Island with an area of 184 000 hectares is the largest sand island in the world.
Fraser Island`s World Heritage listing ranks it with Australia’s Uluru, Kakadu and the Great Barrier Reef. Fraser Island is a precious part of Australia’s natural and cultural heritage, it is protected for all to appreciate and enjoy.
Fraser island is a place of exceptional beauty, with its long uninterrupted white beaches flanked by strikingly coloured sand cliffs, and over 100 freshwater lakes, some tea-coloured and others clear and blue all ringed by white sandy beaches. Ancient rainforests grow in sand along the banks of fast-flowing, crystal-clear creeks.
Fraser Island is the only place in the world where tall rainforests are found growing on sand dunes at elevations of over 200 metres. The low “wallum” heaths on the island are of particular evolutionary and ecological significance, and provide magnificent wildflower displays in spring and summer
The day tour was with the Fraser Island Company and the tour "visits island highlights including freshwater lakes, the Maheno shipwreck, lush rainforests, coloured sands and magnificent 75-mile beach. Passengers enjoy a tropical buffet lunch and afternoon tea" www.fraserislandco.com.au
We set off down winding sand tracks which provided barely enough clearance for the sides of the bus. The driver provided a constant commentary and the rough tracks meant we had to be belted in all day. The driver was about 20 stone and had a seat set on a hydraulic spring thingy which meant he bounced up and down all day- never stopping for a moment, it was quite hypnotic. We had the worlds crappest rainforest walk where he effectively dropped us off on the track and drove 300 yards down the road.
We stopped for a crap not-worth-the-100-quid-price-of-the-tour lunch served by thickoes that didnt realise that if they served tea that some people might like milk. After this we drove along the beach for about 15kms which was exciting, the bus goes at up to 80kmh right at the edge of the sea and you can see right up the 75 mile beach. We stopped at the rainbow cliffs which again, is a lie, they are certainly composed of different layers but all are noticeably shades of sand, not the bloody rainbow.
After that we saw a shipwreck on the shore which provided a good photo opportunity and was quite interesting. I cant quite recall who wrecked what but a great time was had by all from what I do remember.
Soon after this we decided to drop another 70 notes on a plane ride that took off and landed on the beach in a desperate attempt to convince ourselves that the Aussie propaganda is correct and that the island is not just a giant lump of sand covered in trees with a ridiculous access fee. The 15 minute flight was impressive and the sinking feeling as we took off was exciting, mainly because it was nothing to do with the price of the day which had left me feeling that way already. We cruised around over the island for about 10 minutes and it was genuinely exciting to see bits surrounded by such thick forest that they had probably never even been explored on foot and the landing on the beach was pretty good too.
After the plane ride we went to a creek by the beach and walked up it a little way. The knee high water was refreshing. You cant swim in the sea surrounding the island unless you want to be ripped to pieces by sharks. We then drove for a while again to a fresh water lake that has such high water acidity that it cleans your watch for you. We didnt see any dingoes which was just as well as they can kill people. One swim later we had a tea and a muffin and then piled back in the bus to ride back to the ferry.
The ferry ride was pleasant on the way back, though long, K felt sick and I was starving so we were glad to get back to our nice little guest house. We went for a little walk that night but accidentally seemed to stray into a druggie mugging part of town. Chastened, we went home again.
In the morning we left at 7am to go to Bundaberg, famous for rum and for a turtle beach where we had booked to go turtle watching again.
Thanks to a certain lady by the name of Kat Jones the following updates will now be posted:
Bundaberg
Kroombit Cattle Station
Airlie Beach
Townsville
Innisfail and Catchabarra
Cairns
Flight to Darwin
Darwin
Kakadu National Park
Alice Springs Tour
Adelaide Tour
Kat is a complete legend in that she saved me around 30 dollars worth of time in an internet cafe. The above updates total 18,000 words so good luck getting through them!
xx
We left Hervey Bay the next day and got back on the Oz Bus to carry on to Bundaberg- a place known only for its rum by those who have actually heard of it. However, we happened to overhear a conversation whilst in Hervey Bay where some people mentioned that they were going on a turtle tour at Bundaberg.
After Googling it we found out that the Footprints Hostel runs a tour that includes a night`s accommodation and a guided trip to the turtle hatching beach for 33 pounds each. This was something to look forward to...most of the time the East Coast of Oz is a rather large stretch of bars, clubs and restaurants. Even the barrier reef cruises are judged more by what they serve you for lunch than the the marine life on offer. Occasionally however, nature wins out and you end up with some excellent activities that normally cost less than a night on the town would do. For example, Carlo Sandblow, Tin Can Bay Dolphin Feeding, Bondi to Coogee beach walk and now this...
Arriving in Bundaberg fairly early in the morning we found our hostel for the evening was a large house, obviously not purpose built as a hostel which immediately made it more welcoming than three quarters of the friggin barracks that we have stayed in.
Presided over by a husband and wife team who we managed to completely miss in town the wife picked us up from near the train station and didnt mind at all that we had messed her about.
The hostel was slightly out of town but to be honest there was no real town to speak of anyway so that was not a problem. We found that she had allocated us the only room for two people so we didn`t have to share though we were in bunkbeds. We thoroughly enjoyed pottering around doing our washing and eating weetabix while talking to her. She was terribly mumsy and made us imagine that she must try hard not to offer to make people`s beds for them and to clean up after them.
After watching Charlie`s Angels on DVD in the living room we went to the Supa IGA supermarket and bought stuff for the evening. You go to Mon Repose turtle centre at 6.30pm but you might well wait until midnight if not even later to see anything, so it makes sense to take some food.
We piled into the minibus dead on 6.30pm and had reached the Mon Repos centre by 7.00pm. This is where the differences between Borneo`s Turtle Island and Mon Repos started to show. In Borneo there were about 20 people waiting to see the turtles and 12 of them were on our Intrepid tour. That night in Bundaberg there were 300. Luckily our tour books its tickets a year in advance so we were in group 1. There were 6 groups and each waits its turn. Hence if a turtle comes up onto the beach at 7.30pm group 1 will be home and in bed by 10pm while group 5 might still be waiting to get a look.
We hung around the gift centre for a while and watched an interesting yet pointlessly sentimental video about the work at Mon Repos- most sanctuaries would have you believe that they are one step down from a marriage between Ghandi and Mother Theresa while not quite explainng just how it is that they have 300 visitors a night at 30 dollars each + souvenirs and yet they are still struggling for more cash.
At 8pm, just as the video finished, we were hustled down to the beach. We walked down a wooden walkway illuminated every 100 yards with soft red lighting; white or yellow lights disturb the turtles. On the beach it was pitch black and the shore was lined with glossy black rocks that sometimes (on other nights) turn out to be turtles.
We tramped up the beach for 5 minutes to where the two female rangers were going to finish excavating a batch of eggs that had apparently hatched earlier in the night but not been spotted. Sometimes there are some baby turtles stuck still in the nest and even if there are not the rangers will count the eggs, count the unhatched and the half hatched before they bury it all again.
We sat in a rough circle round the hole while they pulled out the eggs. They did find one baby though it would not suprise me if they “found” the same baby in every old nest to make us feel like we got something for our money.
On the other hand, it was sweet to see this baby turtle flapping its little flippers around in frustration at being late for his destiny. Later on they hovered him above our palms and we felt him sweeping his flippers around on our skin and we got to gently poke his faintly plasticky shell that would not fully harden until he got a bit older.
Afterr watching them catalogue the eggs and watch them pop the unopened ones to make sure that they were undeveloped we grew a little uncomfortable at the gross smell of another baby one that had got out of its egg but no further.
We lined up near the surf to watch the baby`s run to the sea and it was exciting as ever. The rangers tried their best to be knowledgable but as with most of these places you get the feeling that they do feel certain that these creatures must be protected but they dont really know why.
I asked if any other species depended on the survival of the turtles and the guide didnt know. A 10 year old next to me said that the turtles are one of the only predators of jelly fish so that was interesting to know.
We made our way back to the bus at half nine and pretty much went straight to sleep after a small snack. The next day would take us to Kroombit Cattle Station and our first real outback experience.
We got a teeny tiny Oz Bus to Kroombit, a genuine cattle ranch- so genuine in fact that it had accommodation for 50 people and a licensed bar. Hmmm
On the bus we got the chance to introduce ourselves over the mic including the answers to such intellectual questions as “Are you a folder or a scruncher of toilet roll?”. Guido was the driver. Not recognising that he was a middle aged balding sad sack he insisted on commentating like a bad Great Yarmouth DJ all the way there and made us play games involving guessing whether a page full of pictures of bums belonged to male or female models. Cheers for that Guido- a little less Dungeons and Dragons followed by surfing for porn on your mums PC methinks.
Lunch was served as soon as we arrived. 7 bucks for steak and salad, not bad at all we thought. We ate at long wooden tables and listened to them pitch horseback mustering to us. We smelled a rat- a real goat muster on horseback would be a thrilling experience and definitely involve a good degree of skill and horse riding ability. So why were they so keen to attract beginners we wondered? And charging 40 dollars? We went to sleep instead for two hours.
We woke up around 3 and got a lift up to the clay shooting range and the goat mustering enclosure. I paid for 10 shotgun shells and hit 5 out of 10 pigeons at most. It was fun though. After that we mustered a goat which at Kroombit means three people going into an enclosure and having a circle drawn in the centre. Only 1 person at a time can leave the circle. The catcher must grab the goat by the horns and drag it into the circle. The lifter grabs the two left or right hooves, tips it over and then kneels on its neck. The third person brands it right on the hind.
I was the catcher and K was the brander. It took around 2 minutes to get the goat and it was quite fun. Some lads did it really quickly and got cocky. They were informed that they were going to try it with Houdini the billy goat.
All the goats were in the enclosure at this point (you just have one in there for the muster). The head cowboy or goatboy, a Mick Dundee type fella grabbed a massive goat by the horns and rammed its head into his hip to keep it from seeing all the other goats being herded out by the other helpers.
At this point its just Mick Dundee and the three lads in the enclosure- with the lads against the wall which is harder than doing it in the centre. Mick Dundee turned to them, straining against Houdini the goat all the time and said in a proper Aussie accent whilst staring at them “listen lads, this goats strong, and fast. Its going to look around in a minute and realise all its mates are gone...then....its going to go fucking nuts...GOOD LUCK!”
At this point the lads were pooing their pants while we all rolled about laughing and pointing from outside. “GO!!!” yelled Mick. Houdini the goat made a massive bleating noise and promptly leaped over the 8 foot high fence into the enclosure with all the other goats. “That`s why he`s called Houdini lads. Try to muster him and he fackin disappears” smiled Mick.
After that bit of fun we had a go at lassoing and I got the tree stump first time (it was actually the target Im not just rubbish). Then as usual some arrogant young idiot proceeded to patronise me. I was one of the only people to get it right (luckily) first time. I wanted to have another go. I tapped the young lad next to me in order to get him to move out the way of my skills; lo and behold if he didnt immediately turn round and patronise me for 10 minutes on the subject of lassoing. “If you had waited 2 seconds and let someone else speak”, I wanted to say, “you`d have discovered that I just wanted you to move yo stupid ass out of the way- I didnt need a lesson, and if I did it certainly wouldnt be from you you insufferable little shite”. Instead though I just thanked him. Kiirsty had a go after me and did well too- as you will see on Snapfish.
Later on we had dinner including a scoop of mashed pumpkin which was pretty nice. Then we sat with a bottle of red waiting for the whip cracking lesson to start. Whip cracking was pretty difficult and we had to practise for a while to get a sound out of it while the wizened old crackpot teaching us cracked his whip deafeningly over and over again as though to demonstrate how easy it was. We then had a go standing on a rock. Most people got a good crack out of their whip except for me. Kirsty was like Indiana Jones which made me jealous.
Settling back into the comfy plastic chairs the fun of the mechanical bull was next. One of the funniest things in the world is watching someone slump off the front of one like a sack of spuds the second the bull moves.
This night provided much amusement. I lasted 3 rearing ups of the bull while Kirsty notched up four and left me muttering to myself. After this bull madness had finished we played the infamous “pick a box off the floor with your teeth” game which got more and more difficult, K and I both did well but in the end it was the yoga enthusiast who won.
We retired to our double room for a good nights sleep. We were up early the next day for brekkie and the trip to Airlie Beach. I found a copy of Atlas Shrugged in the book swap first thing that morning so I knew it would be a good day.
Airlie Beach is the gateway to the Whitsunday Islands where its traditional, if not an obligation, to do a sailing tour. For a mere 78 pounds you can have a day`s sailing however after Fraser Island we were ready for this game.
The usual crap started, how we`d be late into Airlie Beach and should pre-book on the bus, how the Whitsundays were “awesome”. We looked at the brochure and saw a collection of idyllic beaches and islands but we also saw how inadequate the itinerary was and we remembered the talcum powder beaches we had already been on.
We remembered how on turtle island the entire scene was made from three broad strokes of colour from the sand, the sea and the sky. We told ourselves that we were going island hopping in Fiji and decided, much to the consternation of everyone to not go sailing. Some people had already paid hundreds of dollars for sailing trips over 2 or 3 days. What the agents all failed to tell them was that the East Coast was experiencing some of the worst weather seen for years. The idyliic cruises would have to be conducted in the rain, or at best, under heavy grey clouds. Mugs.
At lunch that day Guido demonstrated boomerang throwing which was pretty cool and we had some decent eggs on toast instead of the massive burgers the others all had. We pulled into the little town of Airlie Beach and checked into Koalas. We were given a big self contained flat with tv, double bed and single bed, kitchen, bathroom and balcony + air con.
It was a great place to stay especially as with no sailing to be done we sort of had 2 days to just hang about. We arrived relatively early after lawn bowls was cancelled due to rain. I wont go on and on about how inept the staff of koalas are but they couldnt rent us any kitchen equipment as it was all out (once people get it they keep it as they know they arent likely to get it again- why not make the deposit a room key you fools so people have to return the stuff straight after dinner) and the internet was a joke.
Quite often in life you feel good about yourself. Sure you think, I need to buy a house, get a graduate job etc. etc. but surely if these window licking molluscs are part of society things cant be all that difficult?
We werent sure what to do that evening other than that we didnt want to go to the bar next door with the people from the bus. A party bar aimed at backpackers shouldnt charge 6.95 pounds for vegetarian pasta dishes frankly. We were going to rent a DVD player but as it was 7 quid for 24 hours and we could practically buy one from Tesco for that amount we decided on reading our books and drinking wine which worked out nicely for all concerned.
The next day we went on another beach walk, Airlie Beach to Cannonvale beach walk which meandered around the coast and through the harbour in a pleasant way. It was very humid which made it hard work in parts but as usual the walk did not disappoint and two hours later we arrived back in Airlie ready for dinner.
We had left late for the walk after spending the morning shopping for sun cream etc. Guess most of you will know what thats like- I bet you`re always running out of sun cream in Northampton in February ho ho ho.
We were old and boring again the second night in AB and K rang home to speak to her mum while I went on the internet to update the blog. The next day would take us to Townsville- gateway to Magnetic Island and obligatory overnight stop.
Townsville is described by the Rough Guide as “unbearably stuffy”. We stayed there for the night not realising that we could have had one night on Magnetic Island which is supposed to be lovely though the only ad copy Oz Experience can come up with is “swim with your mates” and that you can “hike”.
Still, without doubt it would have been better than the latrine of Townsville. We had to take a bus to our hostel which was a rambling dump. We immediately paid for an upgrade to an aircon room as the day was roasting and the humidity was ridiculous. The hostel was populated by manual labourers from England sitting around shirt-less and drinking XXXX and the fattest family I`ve ever seen who I think worked there.
We tried to use the jacuzzi but the lady from reception didnt know how to work it so we did what we always do when stuck in some east coast crap hole- we went to Woolworths and got some weight watchers custard.
After dinner we sat in the practically subterrainean tv room and got munched by mozzies while watching some crap about fat kids. Once that excitement was dispensed with we went on the net and waiting till 10pm to call Kirsty`s brother.
At night the area looked like an abandoned commercial district with faceless and nameless sky scrapers bordering deserted streets. I sat nervously waiting to be mugged while Kirsty was on the phone. Once the third set of homeless aborigines appeared from round the back of the building where the had been sleeping we decided to be off home rather than wait to be stabbed with infected syringes.
The next day would take us to a croc farm and to the start of our first WWOOFing experience which as far as I am concerned is where Oz started to finally get interesting on a permanent basis rather than having flashes of brilliance followed by trudging round some characterless clone of a town lined with coffee shops. Stay tuned for happier episodes!
The next day was a fun filled one! For the next 10 days or so we were to have the best experience of Australia so far. We were to start our first WWOOF assignment. Willing Workers on Organic Farms lets you pay for a book full of people advertising properties on which you might want to work for 4-6 hours per day in return for food and board.
This is a great way to get a real insight into Oz and if you choose farms carefully you can have a really good time.
Some of the places sounded a bit weird like the single father who explains that you needn`t bother coming “if occasional nudity offends”. Other people stipulated that you “must not be afraid of poultry or lightning strikes”. Uh-huh.
Some places were truly hippy dippy with composting toilets but that was a bit much for us. Some places are best avoided if you dont want to eat yourself to death- one produced wine, olives, cheese and grew berries for use in its home made desserts that it sells in its onsite international cafe. Yum yum.
Before we would make it to Gordonvale and meet David Collier we had the pleasure of visiting a crocodile farm in Innisfail where they breed crocs for meat and handbags. The driver informed us, without a hint of irony, that it was 14 bucks to get in and then everything is free after that. Well thanks very bloody much. Reminds me of the time I went to Alton Towers- those guys give you that sweet deal too. Once you have paid- its free.
Anyway, luckily for the bender of a driver the croc farm was top notch with nutters going into the croc enclosures and feeding them chicken whilst getting them riled up. It was only our busload of 20 and another couple of tourists including a weird boy who should spend less time with his granny. The photos we got were brilliant and the guides were entertanining. We held a baby croc on the way in along with snakes. “Dont worry”, I said to K, “Ill be right here” as she took the snake- and I meant that right up until I needed a wee. 5 mins later I was back and was pleased to note she was only looking slightly worried as the snake coiled around her head and shoulders.
On the way out we saw some Cassowaries which are a sort of giant emu with hidden claws that will eviscerate you if you piss it off. The guide enjoyed sitting next to the fence to make the massive bird leap at him ineffectually.
After that we had a nice drink of coke and a packet of nuts. Something reassuring about having that after risking being munched by crocs.
Once we had finished at the croc farm we headed off to Gordonvale.
We got dropped at the Caltex garage and phoned David, 15 minutes later he picked us up. We werent sure what to make of him. He looks 50 but we would later find out he is closer to 70 and the first thing he did was tell me to load the cases and not to scratch his paintwork.
On the ride back he asked us if we had our snake venom kit and we started to get worried. He then asked if we had a croc gun to make us realise he was just joking and told us there was one under the bed if we needed it at any time.
“Most of the work consists of hauling big rocks to the top of the mountain” he said with a chuckle so we thought we might as well wait until the next day to find out what he wanted. Catchabarra is difficult to describe. The property is about the size of 2 football pitches. In almost every direction jungle clad mountains stretch up to a usually blue sky though the location means the weather varies tremendously from torrential rain to 35 degree sunlight often within the same afternoon.
If you imagine the property divided into four blocks by a cross through it you might be able to get an idea of it. From standing out the front, the first part of both the front sections is taken up by landscaped gardens which we would later work on.
To your left but still in the first section is the bit where the quad bike lives next to The Station which really is an old railway station- the old tracks still run down the left hand side of the property.
The Station is made of wood and the platform has wooden chairs and tables on it. It`s where the WWOOFers eat and cook and it`s where customers can sit. The old gift shop/cafe is now the kitchen and there are still big gents/ladies toilets. The Station is a fantastic place to sit, the view off the old platform is crops for 300 metres and then the mountains. Nothing else. “Brilliaaant” as Pauil Whitehouse would say.
The second quadrant on the left hand side is taken up with a massive pond/lake thing with two mini jetties where the Barramundi live. There are over 1000 fish in the pond and people pay to fish for them and then they can even take them home. David likes to say that they earn the cash for the expensive WWOOFer food.
In the middle of the property is the old orchid nursery that is empty for the moment. To the left of it is a tropical garden that is housed inside another nursery. An artifical stream runs through this and ends in waterfall.
Behind these is the Walloby and Kangaroo enclosure where you can both of these hopping about or sheltering in artifical caves.
Back at the front of the property David`s house is near the front in the centre to the right and slightly in front of the nurseries. Its where we ate lunch every day on the covered patio and where we had some meals at night too.
Directly behind Davids place was another little landscaped garden. Then the purpose built WWOOFer bungalow which some of the first WWOOFer messed up so we lived to the right of it in a massive tent housed in another nursery.
It was perfectly comfortable, there were proper beds and a telly. Near David`s property was a river that we used to jump into daily after lunch to wash off all the grime from the work. It was a lovely to go there at least once a day, there was almost never anyone else there so that was nice too!
The night we arrived David left us in The Station with the other WWOOFers, Katerina who would be there with us for almost the rest of our stay, and two Dutch girls who left the next day.
They had last WWOOFed in a place that sounded like a total hippie dump but they loved it, they probably spent their time singing to carrots to make them grow, on the day we turned up David had made them shovel gravel all day. Top boy.
We ate leftover chinese food that night while the other three had pasta and we tried to find out what we had let ourselves in for. David had told us to have a good night and then had gone to bed so we followed suit at 10pm though the hundreds of toads and frogs that invade everywhere kept us up having croaking matches (we werent taking part, just unfortunate witnesses).
The next day we got to work. At 9am it was frickin boiling and we were finishing the raking and shovelling that the dutch girls hadnt had time to complete. 10 minutes in Kirsty had developed blisters and then popped them. David told her gloves were for sissies and I thought she was going to hit him with her rake.
At 12pm we reported to David`s for lunch where he had made excellent sarnies of meat and salad. He had brought us a drink and some biscuits earlier and now he had chocolate milk, yogurt and fruit. It`s David`s theory that backpackers dont get enough fruit, vegetables or milk and he tries to make up for that. He does well, all his food was lovely and there was always plenty of it. He always made good conversation and his six years being a WWOOFer host means he always has something to tell you.
Its difficult to split up the next 10 days so Ill do the work first, then everything else. The next ten days were spent doing two main tasks. Kirsty used the hedge cutter to prune every bush and shrub, most of which were too tall for her to reach the top of even standing on a step- this work was tough! I think she had the hardest job so I always helped her chase the frog that liked pestering her in the shower. Once she had cut 5 feet off the top of the bushes and hedges she had to gather it all up and put it in the trailer of the quad. She`d then motor off on the quad round to the fire pile at the side of the Barramundi Pond.
I had the privelege of using the whipper snipper which is simply a large strimmer that runs on petrol. It also requires a harness to use as its bloody heavy and comes with a pair of super bright orange ear muffs to complete the look. I reckon that by the end of the 10 days I had come close to whipper snippering nearly every edge on the property including around the caves in the walloby sanctuary where the animals would hop off as fast as they could go when I started the snipper up but then would return with bold glints in their eyes when I ran out of petrol. Sensing I was defenceless they would sneer quietly at me until I backed slowly out of the gate in search of more fuel.
Of course it wasnt all whipper snippering for me, just as K had the duty of sieving the pond and cleaning the sinks where David guts fish I had the fun of burying a dead baby walloby by the road and also mixing cement down by the river.
The highlights of the trip to David`s in no particular order:
Pizza Nights- David took us twice to Gordonvale to a Aussie pub that served wood fired pizza. Both times we went he explained that it was normally very busy and so we had to book ahead...the first time we went there were 20 people in there for a pie eating contest as it was Australia Day, the second time there were about 3 people watching the chef be so bored he spent all night wandering through the bar for another glass of tap water and the chance to chat to the bar staff.
Still, despite the unusual lack of customers it was very nice pizza- even though David thought that ordering a Chicken and Mushroom pizza might be “ambitious” and we had to order Hawaiian, vegetarian or chicken..
Jack the madman with the opals- David has three people who live on the property, Bill, Bob and Jack, the last of these is a mad little 60 year old Jewish man who collects opals, lives in a caravan and is slightly potty.
David is always joking around so one day he told Jack that he (David) is Jewish too (a blatant lie) and that as such they should stick together. David`s idea of sticking together was for Jack to give him half of his valuable opal collection.
Jack is not too keen on this obviously but David keeps mentioning it and enjoys telling Jack every so often that Jews should stick together etc. etc. This all culminated one night round the dinner table where Jack was invited too and David was seeing how much he could get away with saying.
In the end he said “when I walk past Jack`s caravan and hear that Hebrew music, it reminds me of home” and we were all wetting ourselves except Jack who began to plan how they would split the opals. Top night.
David`s stories- David has an excellent sense of humour and you could listen to him all day with his stories. He has quite an English sense of comedy but being a brazen Aussie he gets straight to the point with his jokes.
I will attempt to retell his snake story. “Ive got this mate who is extemely afraid of snakes...so one morning I got this great big python and put it in a sugar sack (we all thought at this point that there would be some clever plot to get his mate to look in the sack but no...), and I gave it to him. He started running away so I chased him around the garden (David chokes with glee) I chased him for bloody ages, he was so scared!” That gives you a good idea of David`s jokes.
Andrew and Anne`s visit- David`s friends A and A come from Australia and New Zealand respectively. They are both very interesting people. Andrew is an aeronautical engineer or some such thing that meant he fixed a billion things in the 3 days when he was around.
There is not much to say about the two of them that is all that relevant when you have not met them but it was nice for us all to have dinner together a few times and have the chance to talk amongst ourselves at night over at The Station. Andrew was immediately accepted into the fold on the fact that he had wine.
Gordonvale- going into Gordonvale was a waste of time once we realised that you had to have an appointment for the internet and that you had to pay by the hour or not use it at all. On the upside the ride to G`vale was along two lane blacktop in burning sunshine that took over an hour each way. Gordonvale only has about 5000 residents which for us is quite quaint. Just like every other small Aussie town it has a nice Eerie Indiana feel to it and is pleasant to ride around imagining aliens watching you from behind every closed door and drawn curtain.
River- we went in the river every day as I already said above however one day we got the afternoon off and cycled 7 kms to another place by the river which actually counted as being in a National Park. We sat on a little island made by the river parting around a dry mudbank and read our books, we were totally shattered from working but it was really nice to sit listening to the river rushing past us and watching peoples dogs splashing through the water.
Katherina/dvds- David normallly hosts a few WOOFers at a time and he actually has room for about 10 of us. For all but a couple of days though it was just us and Katharina an Austrian woman who was passing some time before going to work at a dive school in the Phillipines. It was nice to spend each night talking with her- we would watch DVDs in the WWOOFer house or maybe something on the little TV that we had in there.
Halfway through our stay when David had decided that we were clean and tidy he let us move into the WWOOFer house so we would spend each evening either in there or at The Station.
Gemma- Gemma is David`s Alsation who can be commanded in 6 different languages. She used to roam about all over the property and hang about with anyone who would stroke her. Being miles from anywhere it was quite nice to have her around going mental whenever anyone wandered up the drive or when bigger animals were around.
Cairns
We took the Sunbus to Cairns from Gordonvale which takes about an hour. The Oz Experience bus will drop you off wherever you like but itll only pick you up at designated stops but that was alright by us, the little Sunbus took us on a convoluted route up to Cairns and so we saw a lot of little places we might not otherwise have done.
David being David he had suggested a list of places we might like to go to if we bought an unlimited ticket but we were too tired to do it that first day. Working from 8-12 then 3-5.30 every day in 35 degree heat was slightly knackering!
We didn`t have any accommodation booked in Cairns but we wandered off the bus at the Transit Centre and K spotted Global Palace Backpackers which is a well known chain in Oz. We checked in and though our room didnt have a window it was pretty good by hostel standards.
The kitchen was decent and they had a terrace overlooking the street where you could eat your food. We had a sleep for a couple of hours and then went to Woolies as usual and bought some nice food to eat.
Later that day we booked a Barrier Reef cruise for the day after next. there were cruises available for 30 quid but we thought it better to shell out 60 quid each for a more impressive sounding cruise recommmended by the Rough Guide.
After we booked it we went to see No Country for Old Men as we were in the mood to sit quietly in an air conditioned room and gawp at a big screen. That evening we wandered around the night market and we paid to rent a proper underwater digital camera for the day of the cruise.
At 10pm we were in bed with a nice glass of vino. The next day we took David`s advice and took the Sunbus to Palm Cove, an expensive area to live in where the beach is pristine. We walked from Palm cove to the next resort down along the beach which was most pleasant. Especially the Soleros we had on the way. We caught the bus once again which took us to the Smithfield shopping centre...since spattering our clothes with mud and sap we needed some new stuff and thought that K Mart, Lowes and the other discount crap holes might have been the place to get them. Unfortunately most of them stocked the same old shit you find in the cheap stores at home so we took the bus back to Cairns.
Cairns looks a little like what I imagine a Midwest town to look like, its a nice place to wander around and that night we took our Subway sandwich and yogurts down to the lagoon which is what most beachless coastal cities install in place of actually having a decent beach.
Usually this is a good move as they end up being very nicely landscaped and often have picnic tables overlooking the harbour as in this case. Unfortunately there was a plague of mozzies so it was a rather hurried sunset picnic but lovely nevetheless!
The next day was our Great Barrier Reef snorkelling cruise. We had to wander down to the marina for 7.30am in order to check in. The boat was large (I know, that really helps you picture it!) with a lower deck fitted with rows of seats and tables and a bar/serving area. The top deck was where the bridge (?) looked out over the water and the rest of the area at the front was used for sitting down/ sun bathing.
The back end of the boat was used as a prep area. The top deck at the back was where all the wetsuits hung up and the rest of the snorkelling kit was stacked in open crates. On the lower deck were steps down to the water and a couple of big bins full of noodles (long thin flotation devices).
We filled in the relevant paperwork and had a cup of tea in the sweltering lower deck. There was no air con at this point because all the jellyfish that float around in the harbour get pulled in to the machinery that runs it if you start it before getting out a bit.
The plan of action was explained by Elvis, an Aboriginal looking fella that was apparently a marine biologist but also entertained us by playing the guitar on the way back and was clearly more a Butlins Red Coat than he was scholar. Likeable though.
We got out to the reef after 45 minutes of powering through the water. After a witty safety demo it was time to get off the back of the boat. We rented wetsuits though they were not really necessary....however, its nice to be coated in sting/bite proof material and they aid your buoyancy too.
We both had noodles as it makes it easier to take pictures when you can balance properly. For the first snorkelling session we swam away from the boat after some touch and go moments for Kirsty...its quite disconcerting to just bugger off the back of a boat and into a seemingly endless sea if you have not done it before.
Just after getting off the boat I wondered if she would be ok as she regarded me with a glassy eyed stare, I thought maybe she would want to get back on board but before I knew it we were kicking our fins in tandem, holding hands and snorkelling the Great Barrier Reef. Just like that!
We saw a lot of fish though I would not say that its the best snorkelling I have ever experienced but I guess its the coral reefs you come for rather than octopi etc.
Kirsty was getting very much more confident by now and we stayed away from the boat for 90 minute snorkelling. The staff from the boat snorkel too and one of them showed us a sea cucumber and kept trying to get us to look for clown fish. The sea cucumber was a thick, muscular, ever so slightly greasy feeling monstrosity and made us want to throw it back to the bottom when he handed it to us but we gamely held it while we took pics of each other.
I was glad that I didn`t pay for an introductory scuba dive here, the scuba guys were directly below us most of the time and we could tell there were not seeing anything more than we were unless the mental imagary of money rolling down a drain was appealing to them.
Finally it was me who suggested going back as the bloody fins were rubbing the skin off my toes.
Back on board it was lunctime. Unbelievably a load of fat gannets had been at the buffet before us and my request for more salad was not well received. This was the theme for the day- be there when the buffet is opened or dont get any.
Still, we werent there for the buffet and it was nice to have both grilled fish and steak so dont think we`re complaining too much its just that these people sold themselves on the strength of their gourmet lunch and most of it was already gone. As per usual in Oz the girl behind the bar was a rude cow so I didnt hold out much hope of persuading her to reel in another few fish from the reef.
After lunch we sailed to another “reef location”. On the way we sat on the sun deck and took pictures of each other. We kept our wetsuits on for this bit and talked about what we had seen so far. When we got to the new location we were practically the first people to get in the water and we swam straight over to where the guides kept pointing.
This snorkelling part was better than the first. The terrain was varied, one minute we would glide literally over the top of groups of tiny royal blue fish flitting around the coral and the next second a sheer wall of coral just dropped away beneath us.
We enjoyed trying to get decent pictures of ourselves under the water though we were not too successful we did have fun and Kirsty was getting really into snorkelling by this point which is ideal for when we get to Fiji and have 3 weeks of pretty much nothing but snorkelling and eating. One will cope as best one can.
We saw giant clams on the bottom which were far more interesting than ones I have seen on TV, they had purple tinges around the edges of the scalloped halves and were about 4 feet long by a foot wide. Unfortunately the weather had leeched some of the colour out of the seascape as we would be told later that day so we could only imagine how wonderful it must all look with the colours intensified 100%.
After another 45 minutes of snorkelling we swam back to the boat, stripped off our wetsuits and transferred into the semi submersible which would give us a “divers eye view” of the reef. A line which I resent actually as you could see the same amount if you had a 5 metre long snorkel and I dont know of anyone who is only certified to dive to 5 metres.
Anyway, the visibility for this part was abysmal but Elvis the Marine Biologist prattled on interestingly and gave us some sweeties so we didnt let it bother us too much. This is the problem with touring Oz, every day trip is so expensive that if it isnt perfect it can leave a sour taste in your mouth. E.g. Fraser Island- 220 quid for 1 day, how would it ever live up to that when 3 nights in Thai jungle costs about 100 quid for 2 people? How could the Great Barrier Reef live up to the promises of the adverts we all see about once a week in the media?
Back on the boat we had a little more time to snorkel so this time we didn`t bother with the wetsuits we just jumped in and farted about taking more pics, we have not edited them yet but we will, there are 560 on the DVD that the camera co. made for us.
After we finished snorkelling it was time for the trip back to dry land. On the return journey Elvis played some tunes and didnt really know all the words. He was also racist generally in the way that people from ethnic minorities can be about other races coz after all, he knows what its like so its all just a laugh innit?
We disembarked back at the harbour and hot footed it to the camera shop to get our photos transferred to DVD. While they were writing them to DVD we had dinner and packed some of our stuff for the flight that we would take to Darwin the next day. We collected the DVD and had a look at the pictures, about 5% of them are half decent so you will see those at some point on Snapfish.
After that we went back to the night market. There is a row of masseuses all of whom are Chinese and offer a 40 minute almost full body massage for 7.50 pounds. We thoroughly enjoyed it and I was amazed it was so cheap right up until the girl who was doing mine started talking in a low voice about chronic pain and medicine with patented ingredients and wanted me to have some self heating plasters on my back, here, here, here....and here. 10 in all. For 5 dollars. I thought that sounded reasonable until I questioned further and found out they were 5 dollars each and in total I needed 25 quids worth according to her diagnosis. No way I said. She finished the massage and that was that except she would spend the rest of it in the way of my line of sight of K.
After the massage I went to settle up. Two massages, 15 pounds (30 dollars) I said, thanks very much. No no no said the man. You pay more. Kirsty lifted the back of her top to reveal 4 of the blasted plaster things on her and the man tried to get me to not only pay for them but to also take a pack of ten with me.
I tell you what, if these people had ever had me cold call them they`d realise that I sell people stuff whether or not they need it not the other way round. I then spent 30 minutes listening to Kirsty furiously rant all the way home about how he had not bothered to tell her they were 5 dollars each. Makes you sick doesnt it?
The next day we would fly to Darwin to start the next part of the tour- basically fixed itineraries, 3 days Darwin to Kakadu National Park and back. 3 days Darwin to Alice Springs. 6 days Alice Springs to Adelaide. 3 days Adelaide to Melbourne. 3 days Melbourne to Sydney.
Almost everything was now to be included as we had paid such a fortune for the tickets in the first place. I think we had both sort of enoyed the East Coast but felt a little let down by it. The turtles at Bundaberg were cool, the sandblow was an exciting sight, we`d done some lovely walks often along beautiful coast line. But we`d also spent nearly double our daily budget, every day. We`d spent time in hostel populated by silly 18 year olds who didnt realise that you might as well just go to uni if you want to get hammered every day. We were both looking forward to road tripping down the middle of Oz.
A lot of people say that over 6000 kms by bus would be hell but for us (or me at least) its a bit like DIY- when you paint the ceiling of your biggest room with tiny brush because you dropped your last roller down the toilet you get a very uncomfortable experience. By the time you have finished though you get a new appreciation for just how bloody big the ceiling is. You get the same thing on a bus down the middle of Australia. Soon you will read about days barrelling along at 100kms an hour down arrow straight roads. To the left and right of you is simply bugger all right up to the horizon in both directions.
Coming from a country so small that you cant often look more than a mile in one direction without seeing another person, probably someone you went to school with, it can be an exhilerating experience. I am typing this right now on such a road almost in the geographic centre of Australia. Tonight we will stay at a place thats just so damn hot hot hot that they all built their houses underground. You just dont get that by plane hopping around...
Quick quiz for you. If you are flying from Cairns to Darwin are you on a domestic or international flight? Think about this carefully because you might end up in the wrong terminal. They are half a kilometre apart and you might have to run between them at the last second and catch your flight with seconds to spare.
I`ll repeat the question and give you a clue, thats how good I am to you. If you fly from Cairns in Australia to Darwin in Australia are you on a domestic or international flight?
If you answered domestic then please proceed to find out just as you get to check in (already cutting it fine) that its an international flight in this case as its a stop on the way to Singapore.
Then think to yourself, its still 1 hour 3 mins to flight time and domestic flight check in closes 45 minutes before departure so youve got enough time to stroll the 500 metres to the other terminal, afterall its about 37 degrees so you wont want to hurry.
Then almost instantly recall that international flights close check in an hour before departure. Then run, as though through treacle but actually through the intense heat of the Aussie midday sun over concrete so hot you could fry eggs on it.
Once into the international terminal reach the desk just as one woman says to the other “better close up now, the rest are too late to catch it”. Put your best smile on though you are knackered and sweating like a malaria victim.
Breathe easier once you are allowed to check in. Then realise your luggage is overweight and that the bitch-clone behind the computer wants you to pay 7 extra dollars a kilo. Realise that you would rather give yourself a vasectomy with a piece of plastic cutlery than hand over any of your hard earned dinero to this harlot sent from Lucifer himself.
Mutter about 1.9 kilos hardly being the end of the world and re-juggle the cases. Fake gratitude while biting your tongue hard enough to turn it to beef jerky when she smiles and bestows the favour of allowing you to go cheekily over the luggage allowance by 200 grams.
Try not to do a Manuel from Fawlty Towers impression at her (so sorry!) and then stalk off into the terminal. Turn the wrong way and end up in the taxi rank instead of customs. Realise that this is going to be a bad day.
Arriving in Darwin it was lucky that Jetstar had made it up to us by springing the pleasant suprise that though there were prices on the menu the inflight sandwiches and drinks were complimentary. Darwin is outrageously hot. The humidity is nothing short of ridiculous. could wring out the air its so full of moisture. Yet at the same time its glaringly hot.
You get the type of sunshine where you can`t even tell that your sunglasses are tinted. Wear them in England and you can tell everything is shadowy. Wear them in the Northern Territory and realise that without them your retinas would almost certainly be damaged and that your “delicate eye area” as Olay would put it would end up looking like the crispy tip of the twisty canapes you get at weddings.
We caught the transfer bus into town and got dropped at The Cavenaugh a hostel which also runs a motel, a bar and a cafe on the same premises which means its a cut above most hostels but still cheap.
That first night we had a silent German and an English bloke called Gavin staying in the same room as us. Gavin takes 7 weeks off every year to go travelling and has done so for the last 10 years. Fair play to him. That night we pretty much did bugger all. The next day we swam in the hotel pool at 8am, had a coffee, walked round town a bit (theres naff all to do) and went on the net. We had two geordie girls in our room that night who laughed at everything. They also had 32 kilo backpacks which was amusing. One of the girls had gotten a new bag at the airport after the sheer weight of clothes and hair straighteners had shattered the wheels of her other one when her dad got it out the car.
We were just waiting. Waiting for the next day when we would rise bright and early at 5am and join our three day Kakadu National Park trip.
At 5am the next morning we rose excitedly to go to Kakadu and immediately ran into a problem. It was pissing down to help matters when the fortyish driver said that we couldn`t bring our big bags. The conversation went like this. I think youll agree he was a dickless wonder.
Him “you cant bring those great big bags guys”
Us “ do we just leave them in the luggage storage here then?”
Him “I cant fit them in, theres no room guys, its not a bloody great bus”
Us “right...shall we pack some day bags then?”
Him “ho ho ho, theres no room for those big bags guys”
Us “ yeah, you said, can you wait for us to pack some day bags then”
Him “ I cant believe you think you can bring those big bags”
We started to realise that maybe he has certain impairments and that it would be cruel to draw to his attention that the conversation goes nowhere if he can`t respond to the actual words we are using.
Us: Tell you what, you wait with the bus for 5 minutes and we`ll be over with our day bags. (Internal: “jeez what a thicko”
And so it began.
We got in the 4x4 minibus that looked a little like a prison van and realised that there were only seats left right at the back. Still, at least we could pass notes and draw love hearts on each others exercise books. So what if we couldnt see a bloody thing?
We got out of the bus 2 minutes later to check in at the office which involved sprinting through the rain to tick a box. Then we signed an indemnity form wondering if it was the same one he signed before the men in white coats started to test chemicals on him. Would we end up as sad sack bus drivers unable to follow a conversation? We hoped not.
Two hours later we stopped for a croc cruise along the Mary River Wetlands. They dangled big bits of meat on fishing rods over the side and the crocs obligingly leapt out of the water to get to it. It was an impressive display but once you have seen it 5 times you have seen it enough. It was not as good as the croc farm at Innisfail but it was an interesting experience nevertheless.
5 hours later we stopped for lunch. We had sandwiches and we all nearly threw up as we ate outside and there were at least a couple of hundred flies around us all the time. They are a common feature of the Northern Territory and they would be the bane of our lives throughout the next week or so, not just at Kakadu.
Luckily they dont bite but they do land all over you and its incredibly frustrating not to mention sickening when they buzz round your fork as you lift it to your mouth. I wonder looking back whether the driver was taken over by them and his head had a pulsating, buzzing black mass of flies in it instead of a brain. Anything`s possible afterall.
About 90 kms into Kakadu the driver remembered to tell us that we were now in the park itself. That day`s activity was to see the Aborigine Paintings on the cave walls at Ubirr Rock where the driver would spend time telling us how great Abos are and that they are spiritually superior to white men and westerners in general despite the fact that in their 30000 year history they didnt manage to develop a written language or anything in fact but a supposedly sophisticated relationship with the land that was so sophisticated they had to spend the majority of their time chasing food in its various forms which left them no time to appreciate the invention of say,the wheel.
Aborginal paintings can be interesting. Certainly their bold lines and bright ochre colours make for compulsive viewing. On the other hand their very simplicity and the fact that each tells a history that is less convincing than most fairy tales the worship of them is somewhat unfathomable.
Still, it was nice to see. In person. Take it from us though, they look exactly how you would imagine. Each painting represents a story which will normally attempt to teach and instruct through its plot. This knowledge is supposed to be taboo for non-aboriginals so not a lot is known about the paintings and most of what is is entirely inconsequential.
The driver let on that 99% of Kakadus wildlife is nocturnal and is why we were seeing practicalius buggerallius to give it its Latin name. Another top missell by travel agents!
After the paintings it started to pee down so we got back on the bus and made our way to the visitor centre which is like every other bad visitor centre on Earth except this one had a stuffed croc that you could put your head in to take pics. It also had a giant paper mache mozzie on the ceiling which was nice.
We arrived at our campsite two hours later. It was still caning it down. We recognised another problem. A Dutch girl who had done National Service and like every other person we have met so far who has completed National Service thoought that she was awesome.
I can`t even be bothered to tell you all the ways in which she was annoying but Seatgate was to come on the next trip which would culminate in her calling me childish. Ooops, I must have accidentally become annoying. Still, never mind eh!
The campsite was a bit boring but we managed to nab our own tent and that was a bit of luck. The tents were permanent so we had wooden bunks with pvc foam mattresses to sleep on. Dinner was in a big tent made of mozzie netting. The cheapest wine was 20 dollars a bottle and I may be a drinker but I am not that desperate thanks very much. So we went to sleep.
We rose early to find someone had nicked our seats and so we had to sit in the most cramped part of the bus all day. Ho hum. We drove out to a part of Kakadu where an hours walk brought us to Motor Car Falls a nice big waterfall and waterhole that was fun to swim in and get some pictures of.
After we swam and sat about there we walked back and on the way diverted to another set of falls. These were much shalower so K got in this time and we sat in the water chatting. Then we walked back and drove back to Darwin stopping enroute for another fly sandwich.
The last stop before Darwin was to see giant termite mounds. Another girl on the trip had already announced that termites are “amazing” as everything is to everyone who speaks English as a second language. So we were keen. Cathedral termites make mounds up to 4 metres high which they enter through a network of underground tunnels. The mounds are giant defense mechanisms. They will survive a bush fire. The driver expressed his admiration for termites. So far his role models were aborigines ansd termites. Wow, he must be a hit with the ladies.
On returning to The Cavenaugh we went to The Vic with a free meal voucher supplied by Oz Experience and we were taken aback to find a pleasant little pub with a decent meal free of charge and cheap drinks. The next day we would get up at 4.45am to make the 3 day trip down to Alice Springs. On the way we would visit the Devils Marbles, Katherine Gorge, the Adelaide River, Thermal Springs and have a drink at Daly Waters, Australia`s oldest pub.
We rose again at 5am to get the bus. We were able to get some decent seats nearish the front but the best seat had already been commandeered by Leona, the most irritating person in the world and is obviously a perfect match for David from Isreal (see the Khao Yai Thailand entry).
Like David, she thought that having done national service meant that she could order everyone about and state her opinion of everyone and everything. We discovered the reason she had the best seat in the bus for the tour to Kakadu is because she gets sick if she doesnt sit at the front.
The extra legroom helps I suppose as does the fact that she always takes up double the room of anyone else- for the first day of this tour the second best seat on the bus would be taken by a box of oranges and Leonas other crap.
This first day she dealt admirably with motion sickness by stretching out across the three front seats and going to sleep. That marked her card as far as we were concerned and we discovered that she held onto those seats with a zeal worthy of a religious cult.
It was a statement for her- she was the most important, she called the shots and from the front of the bus she had the drivers ear and so could influence where we stopped, how long for etc. etc. The best part is, in the army she took the obvious choice for someone unable to ride in a moving vehicle except in one or two seats- LOGISITCS. That says it all really.
Anyway, ignoring the ignorant for the moment we had new drivers for this tour- Adam and Ben who reminded us straight away of Bill and Ted or maybe Wayne and Garth.
We drove for an hour to Adelaide River and stopped at a Servo (service station) famous for having the stuffed corpse of the big bull from Crocodile Dundee (The bull was called Nick, stagename Charlie). Suitably impressed we ate breakfast and jumped back on the bus.
The main activity of this day was Katherine Gorge. There was the option to do a river cruise for 45 quid through the gorge but yet again China had preempted other tourist hotspots- once you have lived on a boat for 3 days and seen the Three Gorges down the Yangzi River complete with stops in 3 major Chinese cities for dinner and browsing of night markets a stifingly hot and overcast day along with pounding rain does not appeal for a river cruise thats blatantly overpriced to start with. We weren`t sure whether we would even be able to go for a walk but we thought we`d risk it.
Before the Gorge walk there was the obligatory cultural centre visit where the stands about Aboriginal culture were overhelmed by the internet cafe and souvenir shops. Not many people learnt how to hunt Kookaburras that day but plenty got some nice postcards. Good stuff.
We started the short walk which was labelled as the long walk on the information board so it took a few minutes of everyone making sure everyone else was listening to them say which way we should go before we could finally wander off down the path to end up climbing up steps to the viewing point of the gorge. The gorge was quite pretty and we took a few photos. The climb up took about 15 minutes walking up tall sandstone steps and it was boiling hot and humid as usual.
After the climb we wandered back round to the bus in a big loop which took us through gravel strewn wasteland by the looks of things. Frankly this walk was another stroll round something not really worth pulling off the road for. Still, a walk is always pleasant and the weather cleared up a bit.
Once we finished the walk we went on the internet for a bit and waited for the people who got mugged for the cruise to return. Some people would not return for several hours as they had chosen to do the long long walk of 10km. We got the bus back to the campsite. It was a similar set up to the first time but the tents were being hammered by rain. Later that evening the ground outside our tent would go from almost dry to collecting almost two inches of standing water and a mini stream developed past our front door as the tents sloped downhill slightly and ours was the last in the row of 6. That evening we had some wine and cooked dinner. Leona and co. were making sure that we knew that they were having the best time ever.
After dinner most people went to bed but K and I stayed up with Micheal and Ben and also Kris the mad flemish bloke from Belgium who had been ranting semi racistly all night. Kris disappeared off to make jingoistic paraphenalia at some point, his departure almost unnoticed by the rest of us. Ben had an Uno headband and we enjoyed taking the piss out of the fact that he calls Uno, youno despite the fact that the idea of the game is to shout Uno when you get to your last card. Micheal enjoyed himself too but earnt the nickname Mickey the Fucking Blue Eyed Cheating Bastard Esquire though I couldnt say who came up with it. Near the end of the Uno fun I enjoyed some toast and peanut butter that was supposed to be for the mornign and then we turned in for the night, pleased to see that the top bunks were sheltering us from the rain leaking in the roof of our tent.
The second day of the tour started the Seatgate affair. Knowing that Leona would be up early to stake out our seats I ran to the bus and nicked her seat. She couldnt get in the bus through the normal doors but Micheal showed me that the drivers door opened. She took it really well proclaiming in a loud voice that I was a child and then storming away in a huff. I couldnt stop smiling for hours. cold calling people changes you- I was thoroughly enjoying arguing. Kirsty is unflappable in the face of dirty looks- being called a bitch by a woman you`re delivering at 2am makes you a bit of a Clint Eastwood.
Unfortunately though Karma would not allow us a full victory...some horse faced ho from some posho place in the Midlands joined Leonas gang and so we had to put up with a running commentary from them all day. Still, it was worth it.
First stop on the second day was Mataranka Thermal Pool where I enjoyed diving in until Ben front flipped in and I was spectacularly upstaged. It was a nice place though surrounded by palm fronds and the water was as warm as a bath. We stopped for lunch at Daly Waters pub which is the oldest in Australia. As usual you forget that the “oldest” anything in Australia is irrelevant as its such a young country. They practially consider brushed steel and glass an antique decor. Not that you get that at DW. There is a pool and a BBQ area. Hugo the other mad Flemish man BBQ`d the meat and as soon as was possible K and I escaped from the rest of the group and hid inside. There were some major nitwits in that group.
That night we camped at Tennant Creek, Not that we saw a creek. I pulled my sleeping bag from the trailer only to find it soaked in water that stank of mouldy carrots. Ho ho ho I thought. I had to listen to four different self opinionated tools tell me to hang it up to dry as though I hadnt thought of doing that while I explained seemingly to myself that it wasnt the water thar was the problem but more the stinky carrotyness of it. Still, these people had ideas and opinions and dammit other people would here them whether they wanted to or not. Luckily there was random washing machine working so I stuck it in that. An hour on the line and it was dry. it was dark when I hung it to dry so it gives you an idea of how hot it was.
We had a beef dinner that night though there was a veggie version served first for those who dont eat meat. certain people with motion sickness problems skipped the queue to eat with the veggis and then went back again with the rest of us but as the world revolves around her and she is the grand high sovereign of the universe we didnt let it bother us.
We played Uno again that night while some others played another card game-anything we can do they can do better afterall and they laughed extra loudly to make sure we knew just how fun it was- we had more wine and we decided to sleep outside. Unfortunately we hadnt reckoned on two horses roaming free. Ben insisted they could see throug,h the fly nets they wore but the nets made them look like ninja horses and a half one in the morning who was to say they werent? Ben told us they would keep away but then while he was clearing up one took a masssive wee 5 feet from our swags and there seemed to be a lot of fresh poo around too. Finally one of them stumbled into a big metal washbasin hanging from tree and it spooked them both so they pranced about madly. We were too worried to sleep outside so we slept in a tent. But we were brave and kept the door open. I lay wide eyed for 20 minutes wondering if a horse could fit through the door. I closed it and went to sleep.
The final day of the tour was as annoying as the others at first. We were last to breakfast and the super efficient ones had packed it away early so we had to mess about getting all the stuff out again. We got the bad seats again behind Leona and horse face. Another girl had moved our stuff from our original choice of seats because we hadnt realised that all must bow to her wishes. Resignedly we got in.
First stop was the Devils Marbles which are huge boulders arranged in random piles in the middle of the outback with nothing around them for miles. We took some pictures and did a 20 minute scenic walk which didnt really tell us a great deal except that scientists had explained the patterns of erosion that led to the formation of the marbles and that aborigines believed that they were the tears of an angel that tried to kill a crocodile with a blessed bow or some such crap. They were very impressive and we considered trying to roll one over certain people in the group.
The next stop was the boundary marking the Tropic of Capricorn. More importantly is the fact that we would no longer be in the tropics. The sun would now feel like a laser beam rather than a laser beam in a steam room. This is better news than you might think!
That was the last stop of any consequence and we were already looking forward to getting to Alice Springs that night. Leona and co. would stay in AS while we were booked to go on the next day to Adelaide.
Alice Springs is a slightly desperate looking town but the Rough Guide had tipped us ff about a cheap hotel that did backpacker rooms. Luckily we got a free ugrade and for the first time in what felt like ages we had a private room, telly, fridge etc. etc. We spent hours trying to sort out ferries to Kangaroo Island and accommodation in Adelaide as well as doing a bit of research on the Adelaide Arts Festival. if everything goes to plan we should be there for some free events but as its popular time of year the only accommodation left will be crappy dorms. Hey ho.
Welcome to the best part of our almost-two-months in Australia. This tour has finally shown us what we came here for. The immensity of the outback, the geology formed by some of the harshest conditions in the inhabited world. sleeping under the stars, sparkling wine with an Ayres Rock sunset, beers in an underground pub, wild camels, emus and dingoes howling round our camp at night.
This tour is what Australia is all about. Very few people. Weather that`ll kill you given half the chance. Sky so blue and just so big that you sit humbled on the bus while on both sides the ground stretches to the horizon, flat red sand, red clay/sandstone and scrub.
The next 6 days would show us land that does give you respect for Aborigines survival skills, no matter their outdated superstitious beliefs. Occasionally when travelling you get a moment somewhere that takes your breath away. A moment that makes you glad to have escaoed the daily grind. This vast stretch of land with its prehistoric land forms, its balst furnace sun and its complete lack of water would provide a steady stream of breathtaking moments.
Day 1
We woke up again nice and early. This time the pickup was 5.05am though the bus was late and we even called the office at one point, convinced we had missed it. Eventually though it showed up and we met Sean our new driver. Sean is easily the best driver we have had. A seasoned traveller himself he is passionate about the things we see on the tour and he`s also a good laugh. He helped the group bond almost instantly- he made sure we all introduced ourselves over the mic and explained a bit about ourselves. He endeared himself to the group by slammng on the brakes and leaping out to try to catch a giant lizard for us all. Its been the tour with the friendliest group so far in Oz.
The first stop was a servo 4 hours after gettng on the bus. Unlike other drives and tours this one has to run to a strict shedule as it covers 3000kms in 5 nights. After topping up with iced coffee and hard boiled eggs we carried on through to Kings Canyon. Its hard to describe Kings Canyon and do it justice. The walk to the canyon starts with a 15 minute steep ascent up foot and a half high steps up to the path. One of our group dropped out halfway up this and went for the easier walk. Who could blame him. You are not supposed to do the walk if its over 35 degrees. It was about 37 and only got hotter on the exposed bits of the rock. It was also 1pm, basically the hottest part of the day.
The Canyon is built mainly of sandstone which rusts because of the iron ore in it and produces lovely reddish brown cliffs. What makes Kings Canyon different from Katherine Gorge is that its a much more primal place for want of a better explanation. When you get to the top all you can see for hundreds of metres in any direction is a barren expanse of stone interspersed with the occasional tortured looking acacia tree. It reminded us of the top of Mount Kinabalu once you get past the altitude at which plants can survive. It was spectacular, the sort of scenery you get on telly shot from helicoptors. Like every other part of this trip it was augmented by the a cornflower blue sky.
The vivid blue of the sky still amazes us everytime we look up. Its the type of sky that comes all the way down. In the UK the grey murk that passes for the sky is like the icing on a cake. Here the earth is the plate the cake sits on and the sky is the whole cake, you can feel it all around you, a giant blue bowl placed over the plate of the world. Its so roomy that sometimes it will hold wisps of clouds that you feel would fill a hundred European skies but only fill a tiny fraction of the impossible expanse of it. And its free to look at which is a suprise...if it was run by the East Coast travel agents there`d probably be a sky fee and a gold coin donation to admire it.
We walked through the canyon or rather over the top of it and took in The Ampitheatre, the Lost City (a section of about 50 near perfect domes said to resemble a city), the Garden of Eden and the South Walls. The Garden of Eden is an intriguing place. About an hour into to the canyon you climb up to a narrow valley within the Canyon. Inside the valley there is water and a fair bit of plant life. Remember that this is at a reasonable elevation in boiling heat surrounded by nothing but rock for a few hundred metres. It was a suprise when we walked into it and unsuprisingly it is an important place for Aborigines who used to visit.
After the Garden of Eden we went down some steps to a waterhole at the bottom of one of the Canyons walls. it was brilliant to sit in the shade of a great stone wall (now that the humidity is going its actually cool in the shade- ish) looking at the still surface of the water. The acoustics of the Canyon amplified all the bird calls and other noises so it was as though we were listening to a meditation tape. After a drink of water and a biscuit we went to look at the South Walls.
Rainbow Beach and Fraser Island are touted for their coloured sands but they are not as impressive as those at the Canyon which you can see free of charge. There is a great cleft in the rocks walls and you can see layer upon layer of different shades of stone. Like everythning else in the Canyon the sheer size of it takes your breath away and makes you imagine you`ll see a Tyrannosaurus Rex by the bus when you climb down.
Our enjoyment of the tour was augmented by Sean`s commentary on the rare occasionsa that we saw things growing. We saw plants used as medicines or to make weapons. Finally after about 3 hours we went back to the bus thoroughly impressed.
We still had quite a bit of driving left to do that day and we entertained ourselves with Sean` sychological tests and a noughts and crosses competition with rock paper scissors deciders. Around 5pm we passed Mount Connor, a great flat topped mountain that is similar to Ayres Rock at a distance and is known as Fooluru by the guides (Uluru is the Aboriginal name for Ayres Rock). We were hoping to make it to Uluru for sunset but we knew time was running out so Sean stopped the bus next to sand dunes. The sand was very fine and the sun turned it a rich maroon red. We could see noone else for miles and we scrambled to the top of the dunes to take pictures of the sun on the horizon. We returned to the bus after the sun had gone down, by this time we had about 30 minutes left till Yulara, the resort town that surrounds Uluru and contains all types of accommodation to cope with the 3000 people per day that visit Uluru and Kata Tjuta.
Whether the campsite seemed more pleasant because of the new, much nicer group we were with or whether it was actually better we all helped prepare dinner and it was very nice thank-you. This night we did actually sleep under the stars. being cooler now at night at least we were able to get right down and into our sleeping bags instead of drenching them with sweat. For those who dont know a swag is a 50mm foam mattress in a PVC case that you unroll to sleep under. Its a nice way to sleep especially when the dingoes start howling in a reassuringly far-away manner allowing you to tell yourself you`d risk life and limb to look at the stars when actually the dingoes would be shot by the staff of the 7 star resort next door if they came within 5 miles of camp.
Day 2
We rose at 4.30am to some unfortunately chilly showers but then comforted ourselves with the array of cereals, toast, coffee and peanut butter that Sean had set out for us. At 5.30 we were on the bus to go to Uluru and watch the sunrise from the official sunrise viewing area. We presented our tickets and drove round to the viewing area. The land is so flat here that you dont get a gradual sunrise. Almost instantly the world is flooded with light though you do get a bit of a progression over the next 45 minutes its more like someone turning up a dimmer switch than anything. Uluru looked impressive in the pre-dawn light and though its essentially a huge rock we were transfixed by it for the duration of the sunrise. Sometimes you can climb it though the Abos prefer you dont. On this day the climb was closed but w could see a waist high chain arcis ng steeply up the side which marks the traditional route. Uluru is 348 metres high so its quite a climb.
Once the sun had fully risen (about 7.30am) we got dropped by Sean halfway round Uluru and we walked back around completing the circuit. There are some caves on the way and an interesting variety of rock formations. Like other hills and mountains in the area the natural colour is a light sand but its turned red by the rusting iron ore contained throughout it. The entire base walk is about 10km so it took around an hour to make our way back round to the bus. We stopped briefly at the cultural centre though this was just for the 2 day tour people as they would leave at lunch time. We knew we would return to the centre later that day so we spent this 15 minutes eating a sandwich. when you have cereal at 4.15am you fancy a sarnie by 9.
Once we had finished mucking around we took the bus straight to Kata Tjuta, another rock formation about 30kms from Uluru but one that is considered even more spiritually important to the Aborigines. Consisting of 100 metre tall stone domes huddled together its a mens site that Aboriginal women would never have seen. Its still protected fiercely, we are not allowed to know details of its usage. 2 male climbers went further than they should have an ended up with a police escort home to protect them from the Aborigines. And to make sure their 4 slashed tyres didnt trouble them too much.
As usual with this trip the size of The Olgas (as the white fella calls them) were daunting in size. We took lots of pictures and generally enjoyed being blown away, again.
After this we piled back on the bus back to the campsite where Sean BBQ`d up some chicken burgers. We had some free time then until about 4.30pm so we did some handwashing as the sky was blue and the temperature was at least 37 degrees we managed to do about 15 dollars worth of laundry for free. We then tried to get a bit of sleep in our tent but that was a mistake, we should have gone and lied in the shade outside. As it was we basted in our own sweat for about an hour and a couple of flies nearly made us lose it by buzzing around our heads in a really, really, really annoying manner.
At 4.30pm we loaded everything int the bus again- you cant leave stuff at camp or the abos nick it, especially alcohol. We went to the cultural centre and watched a couple of short videos about the Aboriginal history of Uluru and some general Aboriginal information. We learnt how they made spears and how male/female Aborigines have very different upbringings with totally separate rites and sacred places. After this we tried to go in the gift shop to buy you all a souvenir but it was closed.
Sean took us on a walking tour of some of the caves at the base of Uluru. We saw about 3 different caves used for shelter or for teaching and painting. We also saw a rare wateriyng hole right up against the base which is significant to the Aborigines. Once we had finished that we took the bus around to the sunset viewing area where coach loads of people already waited to see if we would be lucky enough to witness the changing colours of Uluru. Most coaches bring picnics, some are very upmarket affairs with champagne and all sorts of nice foods- we were on an Adventure tour but not to be outdone Sean had sparkling wine, crackers, onion dip and gherkin dip. Handily for me it was valentines day- what more could a girl ask for than an Uluru sunset with sparkling wine? Of course we had to share it with 15 people from our group and another approx 2700 people but we were only one person deep along the barrier, thats how much room there is.
The sunset was not the spectacular colourfest we were hoping for but it did change from reddish brown to brown. The significance of watching the sunset comes from knowing that Aborigines have been doing the same for thousands of years and that the landscape you stand in is pretty much identical to how its always been, since the last great climate shift anyway.
Eventually we gave up taking pictures and took the bus back to camp. Everyone was secretly disappointed to not have more sparkling wine but the stirfry dinner was good and you could tell that everyone was imprensed with what they had seen during the day. That
night we all slept outside together again in the swags. Before we knew it it was 4.00am and time to start day 3.
On day 3 we got up again nice and early and set off in the bus to Coober Pedy which is Aboriginal for White Man in a Hole. The town was given its name because the Aborigines observed the strange practise of the white fella locals digging holes into the sides of the hills to live in. This is because Coober Pedy is bloody hot. 50 degree heat quite a lot of the time.
Before we got to CP we had to cross the “border” from the Northern Territory into South Australia. Unlike most borders where you have your passport checked and your luggage scanned this is just a big line drawn across the road and a billboard saying South Australia on one side and Northern Territory on the other.
After this excitement we got back into the blessedly air conned bus and made our way to a roadhouse to have lunch. Sean BBQ`s up some beef chilli wraps and everyone dug right into those bad boys. People who prepare lunch eat first so we have become expert carrot graters and lettuce choppers.
About 40 Kilometres outside of Coober Pedy the tailings start. Tailings are the piles of mini rocks and gravel that the blowers pour out onto the floor. The blowers are big vacuums that suck up all the dust and rocks from the opal mines, the vacuum tube is fed down from the surface in a direct line to where the holes are being bored. This means that the tailings can give you a good idea of just how extensively this area has been mined for opals. A tailing is around 5 feet tall and about 8 feet wide. There are hundreds of them as you come into Coober Pedy. Arriving in Coober Pedy is quite exciting in a sad sort of way. The population of the town is only 3000 with another 300 students to bulk it out a bit. Almost all of these people are involved in the opal industry- either mining or selling/polishing/making jewellery etc. Those who are not directly involved are indirectly involved- they spend their time running bars, restaurants, bottle shops etc. for the miners. There are no buildings taller than one storey here. The majority of these bungalows are merely an entranceway to the underground house. 7 out of 10 people live underground, most of the time the first floor or two is bored into the side of a hill. They live without windows and they mostly just seal their walls with a seal that can be painted on. This means that a lot of rooms are characterised by the lines in the wall that look like a giant hair curler was used to grind the stone out. The stone itself is a dark orangey red shot through with normal sandstone and provides quite a pleasant colour. Apparently it can vary across the town so some people will plaster and then paint or wallpaper their rooms but in otherss the rock can be quite vividly coloured and so people just keep it as it was when they built or rather, excavated it.
To make a 3 bed house takes 5 days using machinery but 10 times that long when done by hand. Still, I`d like to meet anyone who can hand build a 3 bed house in 50 days! The houses all have vents going up and out the top of the hill. If you have a vent thats abut 2 feet across and circular in the corner of the livingroom it will create an interesting spot light in the corner during the day while you hide from the heat down in your cave house.
We took a tour of the original opal mines. You can see a vein of opal as you walk around the mine. As its now illegal to mine within 20k of the city limits this vein should remain untapped. You cannot mine in your house even if you see thousands of pounds worth of opal (and that would be a suprisingly small amount if it was good quality- a matchbox sized piece would fetch about 100 000 pounds. You are however allowed to renovate. According to our guide this has led to a town of closet millionaires. The opals they find in their living room wall are illegal to extract so they renovate instead and then sell quietly overseas. Crazy.
Another exciting fact about the town is that they hate the police from the town up the road. The Coober Pedy police officers have to overlook a certain amount of mischief as they have to live amongst the people of the town and have functional lives. When the out of town cops come by they book anyone and everyone for anything and everything. It sounds like fun.
During the mine tour we were shown how opals are sanded and polished but this was the prequel to the shop tour so we were not impressed. Most people bought some junky looking opals. Unfortunately good quality opals are as expensive as diamonds so in this case everyone looked at the most expensive ones and then bought the opal equivalent of zirconia. Except Kat who rang her mum at 4am and demanded to know exactly what opal she wanted and was it ok to stick another 200 quid on the old credit card?
Once we finished the tour and spending sprees we went noodling or fossicking for opals. In this case it involved poking through the piles of tailings in town. These tailings were stacked on top of each other until we were on top of about 200 tonnes of mined material. Occasionaly peope find opals worth hundreds of dollars in this supposed junk. I found a piece of false opal which is silica in which the molecules are not aligned correctly. When they are aligned you create the spaces for water droplets which are what create the lovely colours you get when you hold a piece of opal up to the light. We messed about for around 30 mins andt then headed back to the underground bunkhouse to have a shower. We were bunking right next door to the mine, there were 3 rooms, an 8, a 6 and another 6. We went in the bigger room as the ceiling was a little higher. At 7.30pm we went across the road to a little pizza restaurant. We were quite tired from all the early mornings but we didnt let that deter us from getting stuck into the 3 dollar shiraz. Oz Experience buy a few pizzas and we all dig in. There was a bacon and egg (suprisingly good, it reminded us of the spaghetti carbonara in Rome which is really eggy), a vegetarian one, a ham and olive one, a hawaiian and a margarita. After drinking 4 glasses of wine to Kirsty`s two I decided to get cake. We shared with Gemma who would become Kirsty`s drinking partner. I felt a bit sick after cake but the two girls were able to take up the slack.
After dinner I decided to risk a rock fight with the local aborigines and went to the ATM while Kirsty, Gemma, Bharity, Julie and Kat went to reserve us a table at the underground bar at the hotel next door. I managed to get the cash without any trouble and met them in the bar. It was a smallish place though it had a pool table, tiny dance floor, air hockey, video jukebox and an array of arcade machines. It was full of small town scum like the tiny greek man with a rats tail who told Gemma she had “voluptuous assets” “nice thighs to look at” and asked her if she had ever been with a Greek man. When he got knocked back he scored a point for chauvinists everywhere by asking, quite seriously, if she was a lesbian. He then slammed the toilet door to intimidate everyone and started to talk up close to everyone in that annoying in-your-personal-space way that noone likes.
I played pool and was forced to whitewash Mike after he took the first game. The locals were crap at pool and I was tempted to see if I could whitewash some of them too but then I had a prediction that they would not take this well so I consoled myself by playing Daytona USA and coming 23rd out of 30 cars. I played Gavin and Kirsty at air hockey and tried to win a steven seagal boxset of DVDs too. I was trying to find stuff to do as everytime I wandered near K and co. I was put to work as group photographer.
Once it hit midnight and the bar shut most people went to bed but Rei the Korean bloke, Gavin the Aussie, Sean the bus driver, Gemma, K and I stayed up while Sean showed how pissed he was by constantly squeezing Gemma`s arm and nicking her beer. Eventually everyone went to but except K, Gemma, Gavin and me. We decided it might be fun to sabotage the bus. Ideas ranged from sugar in the tank to spraying the windscreen with messages like I know what you did last summer in ketchup. At one point the vegemite was opened and we considered leaving a nice big smear under the drivers door handle. In the end we barricaded Sean into his room using beer bottles, a shopping trolley and two chairs. The only thing we did to the bus was turn the wing mirror around. I went to bed at this point leaving the girls and Gavin wetting themselves in the little cave of a kitchen next to Seans room. I knew we are getting old when i got up in the morning and found out they had removed the beer bottles in the interest of health and safety. Embarrassing. Worse was when we were all on the bus and the wing mirror cracked loudly when Sean tried to turn it back round.
The next day we were up at 6.30am and on the bus by 7.30am. Normally Sean leaves 90mins earlier than that but it was decreed the night before once he realised that he was thirstier than he thought that there would be special dispensation and we could sleep in. We woke in a daze and our suspicions were confirmed that yes, K and Gemma had carved “Kirsty and Gemma love Greek men” along with “Sean loves schnitzel” and the mystifying “Sean`s kids are round the corner” which is Gemma`s translation of my suggestion of “Sean`s illegitimate child lives in Coober Pedy”. Slightly shamefaced we climed onto the bus and started out for Breene Park where we would have lunch.
On the way we stopped for a look at a saltwater lake. You probably read that and thought what we did when we were told- who cares? However judge not, lest ye be judged. It was another spanking hot Aussie red centre day and we walked down the side of the road as though down to the beach. The saltwater lake is big bit of inland sea that dried up thousands of years ago and has left a sparkling white coating of salt crystals to show where it once sat. This means about 6 square kilometres of snow white salt, often you could see it run uninterrupted into the azure horizon. It looked like an alpine postcard. It was amazing as they all too often say. The site was once used to test bombs and s you cant go too far onto the lake unless you like leg extinguishing suprises. Awed, we went back to the bus.
At Breene Park we had a quick lunch of quiche and salad and checked out the cages of parrots and the random goat enclosure. It was pleasant if not bemusing as to why it was tacked on to the park though I suppose no weirder than the bird walk at Abington Park in Northampton though I suspect that those particular cages are more likely to harbour a crack smoking gang leafer these days than anything else. (in Abington Park that is, not Breene).
A while later we stopped in a town to check out Big W where we spent 100 dollars in about 10 minutes on new towels, a hairdryer and other crap. We grabbed two bottles of Wolf Blass sparkling cuvee brut for 8 quid and jumped back on the bus.
That night we slept at Rawnsley Park Sheep Station. It provided all bedding and though there were 8 of us in the room the beds were so comfy that everyone slept once people stopped trekking in and out to the toilet- the door to the room sounded like that of an ancient crypt. Not a good noise to hear when you are half dreaming already. Before we went to bed Sean cooked a really nice chicken stew with garlic mash. He knows how to cook well even on an Adventure Tours budget. We had a small campfire despite a total fire ban and enjoyed the light from it. Now that we are out of the tropics it does cool down at night at least a little so the fire was pleasant. I tried to take a few pics of the moon and the fire but the moon was nothing compared to the one we photographed at Catchabarra.
Day 4 5 and 6 to follow.
Stay tuned to the blog to find out how and why we are now old before our time. Sit spellbound as we explain the excitement of chess around the wood stove (not joking), birdwatching (still not joking) and never, ever watching television (sadly, still serious).
We will explain what its like to hear a tree grunting and to hear something (god knows what) tap dancing on the roof of you metal cabin all night. You will understand the fear that is turning on your torch only to realise you are surrounded by wallobies staring at you...
I apologise. Its my fault that this post will not be 5000 words long like the previous Adelaide tour musings. Unfortunately after having been somewhat occupied drinking crap lambrusco rosso (did you know that lambrusco rosso means crude oil in English?) playing chess (found a travel set today for 2 pounds fifty), and watching kangaroos hurl themselves at 10 foot high yet apparently invisible fences (we felt half sorry, half amused and settled on laughing at the stupid things) we have somehow let weeks slip by in which our addled 25 year old brains have managed to lose most of the details of the trip like sand through a sieve. Still, the best parts remain and I shall endeavour to portray them in such a way that you will be enthralled by them as we were.
Of course, I am typing this in a sunny seaside town on Kangaroo Island, on the verge of going to the Adelaide Fringe Festival and possible a chocolate factory tour. So we may be generally more upbeat than you...you may find it impossible to imagine how good this tour was. You may be convinced that its freezing everywhere and that nowhere gets more than 8 hours sunlight a day and whats the point of it all anyway?
If this is the case, sit back and relax. Realise that somewhere out there, someone is living the sort of life most people can only dream of. That would be us.
The morning after the sheep station fun and games we hopped on the bus and went to Mt Ohlsen Bagge (or something like that, I always forget). We were a bit worried about the heat as noone could be arsed to get up early it meant climbing the mountain an hour later than the tours normally did it. Meaning it was about 10 degrees hotter than normal. Of course the group was composed of tougher-than-normal-tourist-types (oh what I would give for a larger vocabulary and to not have to hyphenate things that could be said by one well chosen word) and so we all agreed amongst ourselves that we didnt care.
Mt Ohlsen whatever is about 1200 metres high whereas Mt Kinabalu in borneo was 4095 so we weren`t too worried. Its also half as steep as Mount Kinabalu so we were looking forward to the climb despite being slightly tired from all the 4am starts. As with most mountain climbs it started off with a deceptively easy 20 minute walk from the bus to the mountain itself. Then, following the traditional climbing pattern it went up. And up. And up. In great big rocky steps and switchbacks it continued to rise inexorably and we started to enjoy it once the first 20 minutes had passed. As per the norm most people in the group scampered up like the spend half their lives climbing mountains, the half they dont spend in the concrete jungles they call home in their respective parts of the world. After an hour and a half we reached the summit and took an unnecessarily large amount of pictures and allowed ourselves to be convinced to have a slice of shortcake. And another. And so on. Until it was all gone!
We trooped back down the mountain all the way to the bus, nearly getting lost enroute and listening to Gavin, the 16 year old ozzie ranch worker who had somehow snuck on the tour alone call everyone effing c words which in an english accent is crude but in an ozzie accent is just funny. Maybe its because Gavin uses it as term of endearment along with Mad Bastard and other such lighthearted monikers.
Back at the bus we felt free to let the others prepare lunch. We had very publicly done the washing up the night before so everyone knew we were pitching in. This permitted us to sit back and relax or in my case, to have a shower in the convenient block that someone had kindly built next to the bbq area. After lunch the driver fell asleep and so we wandered to the gift shop and bought icecream. In Oz its always a short lived pleasure as you have to race to eat it before it slops down your arm because its so damn hot.
Sean eventually woke up and we continued on to Parachilna where we would spend the last night of the tour at a little campsite/hostel thing. We arrived there in the early afternoon and we amused ourselves by going in the pool and laughing at the fact that the place was tiny and deserted. There is a pub, the hostel, a railway line with a shed of a station and thats about it. Still, it was the perfect afternoon for a rather crowded game of water polo which ended up as a game of catch and Kirsty enjoyed testing out her new hair dryer with Gemma and Bharti all being involved and leaving me having to play pool in the lounge in nothing but a towel.
This is actually the day that we spent all our money at Big W, the stop before which I reported as being at Big W was actually at a bottle shop that refused to sell us 2 litres of wine as thanks to alcoholic aborigines you cant purchase after 6pm. That`ll really stop em eh? It was alright though to buy 2 bottles of sparkling wine, its just the bargain stuff you cant buy. The aussie behind the counter tried to make out like it was tough for him too as his profits were affected but that was hard to believe as its only cheap stuff thats really affected by the laws, you can pretty much buy as much premium stuff as you like. Gits.
Anyway, we stopped at the big W before Parachilna so it meant that we enjoyed using towels that werent constructed from old chamois cloths and the point of this massive ramble is that that is why 3 people were doing Kirstys hair as it was an apparently momentous occasion for her to be able to blow dry it for the first time in 3 months. bastard that I am I made her jettison the dryer she brought to Thailand as it was too bloody heavy. Now that we have upgraded to suitcases we wish we had kept everything we chucked but hey ho.
Later that afternoon Bharti put on some crappy hippy hop and a lot of people went to the pub. Kirsty, Gemma and I followed and had some rather nice cabernet sauvignon and stared longingly at the ferrero rocher icecream and the fresh double chocolate cookies on offer. We knew already that a certain level of drunkenness woudl be achieved and that it was only a matter of time before we tried not only the icecream but the cookies as well.
Once we had finished our drinks in the cupboard, i mean bar area, we went back to the hostel type thingy we were staying in for the feral bbq. As I believe I have typed before, feral animals are ones that were introduced by settlers i.e. domesticated animals which when abandoned or lost became wild, or feral. A wild animal is one who has never been domesticated in the first place like a lion, whereas the camel was used for transport originally and given a name and a bed in the travellers camps. Most feral animals are nuts. Thats beside the point though. The BBQ included kangaroo steak (very hard to cook correctly, its very low fat so its easy for it to become tough), emu sausages (greasier and looser than normal sausages but still tasty) and finally, camel burgers which are very nice though thats probably because they are mixed with a few herbs and spices rather than the inherent appeal of the meat. Im guessing that Kangaroo is the nicest as its the least processed and it was still the tastiest. We had these with salad and potatoes and we managed seconds quite easily. The Wolf Blass Cuvee Brut helped give us an appetite. After this dinner we went back to the pub, watched the sunset from deckchairs next to the railway line, watched the longest train in the world pass through at 10pm and then finally faded into oblivion sometime around 10.30pm and had to relive the rest of the night through digital camera footage the next day. From the pictures we think we had a marvellous time.
Though memories are hazy of the last bits of the night we do remember raiding the kitchen with Gavin and Gemma at 3am (the time between the pub closing at midnight and travelling 50 metres to the hostel is lost completely) and Gavin jumping into the pool with me. I got out soon after I realised becoming the guy in the paper who is the star of a Brit Tourist Dies After Breaking Neck at 2am in Swimming Pool, Police say He Was A Pommie Idiot. We joined Gemma and Kirsty inside who were laughing hilariously at not much at all. Once the coco pops ran out it was time for sleep.
We woke the next day with that horrible feeling of fear and remorse that fills the 2.5 seconds between opening your eyes, remembering the night before and waiting for the headache to hit you like an axe to the temple. Kirsty immediately set off for the shower and I dived into the pool. Not before Id made us both a cup of tea like the hero that I am though. After breakfast we sat bleary eyed yet amused on the bus. Amazingly we had managed to get quite drunk and be quite loud without annoying, threatening or belittling anyone. If that doesnt illustrate the bonhomie amongst the group I dont know what does.
The bus set off and we were glad when the air con kicked in. We werent too pleased when n hour down the road Sean pulled over and led us along a kilometre of rocky track to a series of steep ladders which took us to a wooden platform and some more aboriginal art. It was quite interesting though also a challenge not to wish ferverently that we were back on the cool bus. Sean explained a lot about the Aboriginal history and as usual did a much better job of it than other guides have done so far. Sermon over we headed back to the bus and I sat in the front seat messing about with the ipod and putting on top tunes that noone else had enough style to enjoy while K sat with Gemma and they talked and talked and talked and talked.
Luckily for us, Sean decided to stop in the Clare Valley, second only to the Barrossa Valley for wine, for a wine tasting. After a rocky near-vomiting start we ploughed gamely through 8 more test shots, unable to bring ourselves to spit out some of the most expensive wine we`ve ever drunk.
Loads more exciting stuff happened after that but you will have to wait as the shuttle bus picks us up in 20 minutes and we need to eat our cakes before it arrives.
Good day to you.
Not that, judging by the messageboard anyone actually cares but we will soon write updates on Kangaroo Island, The Adelaide Fringe festival (have you seen a 20 stone black transvestite in a full length camouflage catsuit?) and Melbourne along with a general rant about how WWOOFing is not supposed to be 10 hours a day.
Anyway, if you are out there, reading this, please post on the messageboard and let us know...
The next morning we left for Kangaroo Island. We had the usual fun experience, out of bed at 5am trying not to disturb the other poor saps lounging in their bunks. It was a particularly stylish dorm, the towels drying across the bunks made for a lovely backdrop to the argos black steel frame open wardrobe and the sink in the corner gave a wonderful hint of Northamptonian bedsit couture. Two freezing cold bathroom visits later we bumped our cases down the stairs and settled in to wait on the street in the pre dawn darkness for the super coach that Spirit of Tasmania would send to pick us up. Handily it came just as we were munching our cornflakes and you could tel the other passengers were not impressed. Though only 200kms from Adelaide, the bus journey to the port takes ages, then you have to put up with the crush to get on the ferry (insiders tip for you- the ferry is boring wherever you sit). One meat pie and sauce plus a decent dose of crappy Aussie breakfast tv later it was time to disembark at the exciting town of ??, on the northern tip of Kangaroo Island. We caught the transfer bus from Penneshaw to Kingscote. This meant 2 hours of bouncing about along unsealed roads and along interminable little highways including a stop for the post office as the driver was so good at multi tasking he was evidently post master and chauffeur. Kingscote is a pretty little town, more like a little American Midwest place but off the coast of Australia which of course is the perfect way to describe it 10 points for the shittest description ever go to me. We got dropped off at The Gallery and wandered up and down the street in a forlorn manner waiting to be picked up and taken to the latest workhouse into which we had voluntarily enrolled ourselves. Lesley spotted us and came up the street to meet us. We had just watched her sling a load of stuff into the back of a ute and had guessed it might be our host. Lesley was about 40, blond haired and immediately gave the impression of being used to dealing with WWOOFers and had no doubt about who was in charge of things. She kept up a steady stream of chatter about herself as she drove round town and dived in and out of shops chatting with all the people that she knew. Eventually we wandered around the IGA and she asked us whether we preferred white or brown bread, one brand of tesco value equivalent shite over another etc. etc. Finally we got in the ute again and settled in for the 2 hour drive back to Hanson Bay Wildlife Sanctuary during which we discussed life, and all of Lesley’s opinions on it. Luckily for Lesley she had bought us some fish and chips- Aussie fish and chips is usually Shark (ask for flake) and is much better than most so we were too busy troughing the chips while Lesley righted the wrongs with world, corrected people’s lazy assumptions on things, redesigned several governments and cured diseases. After the chips were gone we settled into a light daze as we realised that we had that strange freedom that comes with the terminally self obsessed- the chance to do or say pretty much anything and it be ignored in favour of another discussion about the obsessor’s thoughts or opinions.
We arrived at Hanson Bay mid afternoon and drove down the long unsealed drive. It looks like a farm because it did actually used to be one, a sheep farm a while ago and so it is flat and featureless in most directions except where the new trees planted 20 years ago are now reaching maturity. Lesley took us to meet Bruce, the other manager of hanson bay who was in the little office that is situated under the flat the management get to live in as part of their package.
Bruce was an all round nice guy, probably about 45 or so who obviously enjoyed working in the sanctuary and seemed genuinely pleased to meet us. After meeting him, Mitzy and Indie (the dogs) we went up to the backpacker accommodation where we were to live for the next 16 days free of charge. The Hanson Bay website describes it as “Our new four bedroom backpacker lodge is located at Hanson Bay Sanctuary in a rural setting and is surrounded by wildlife. It is ideal for those travelling on a budget and seeking comfortable and cheap holiday accommodation on Kangaroo Island.
Our lockable,rooms are clean, affordable and spacious. Single and share rooms are available and full linen is provided. There are four bedrooms in our backpacker lodge with six beds in total - two single rooms and two share rooms with two single beds. Please select on the photos above to view.
There is an open plan lounge / dining / kitchen area with a wood fire which is an ideal place to meet other travellers and chat. The communal room also has a DVD player with a selection of movies, There is a fully equipped kitchen and a BBQ (barbecue) area. The bathroom is very roomy.”
All of this is accurate except for the bit about the bathroom unless they have built another one recently. Handily the best feature was the DVD player that took USB meaning that we could listen to our knockoff ipod through the telly. Over the next 10 days we would come to realise that the chess board motif on the coffee table was actually a chess board and that the draw on the side contained the pieces. After asking Bruce to teach us to play for the 4th time we got bored and downloaded some rules off the net.
We settled in to our spacious, comfortable, fully linenned room which naturally was absolutely surrounded by wildlife and tried to decide how we felt about being miles from anywhere and knowing that tiger snakes roamed the property. Handily we weren’t talking too loudly about Lesley and Bruce as just then the man himself rolled up in the Navara ute and asked if we wanted to drive down to the beach to view the cabins, which we would come to know intimately after scrubbing them daily for over 2 weeks.
The website says "Each self contained holiday cabin contains two bedrooms, a bathroom, and open plan kitchen and living areas. Each cabin features slate floors, electric stove, refrigerator and a shared laundry. Fully equipped kitchen and full linen are supplied".
Hanson bay beach is really quite spectacular, even on cooler days and even when its overcast the sea is still vivid turquoise in colour and being a bay, seems very private. The cabins are quite sweet, all named after historic local figures or events. We would come to detest cleaning them quite quickly.
Luckily Lesley’s OCD meant that only she could clean the bathrooms which was fine by us. Unfortunately her OCD meant we had to polish the cutlery in each cabin, do hospital corners on the beds, hoover under the fridge daily and generally mess about with the most meaningless parts of the house just in case the gremlin in her head decided that anything less than 100% was unacceptable.
After our little beach trip we met Joey. Joey is an imaginatively named baby kangaroo that Bruce and Lesley had been rearing since it was tiny. He had to be bottle fed and when we arrived on KI he was just starting to become like an adolescent. If you let him he would try to box with you but all he really wanted was attention. His claws were sharp though so you had to watch the little git.
That eveing we had dinner with Bruce and Lesley before the ran the nocturnal tour. Bruce nearly always cooked and he was quite talented at it. We finished dinner which we always had in their little flat and we listened to Lesley talk some more.
As usual we’ll use the website to tell you about the tour: Take a fully guided 90 minute walk with one of our experienced tour guides in our fenced, feral-free area of 250 acres. Discover and learn about the nocturnal animals of Kangaroo Island in their natural habitat and environment. View Koalas, Tammar Wallabies, Kangaroos, Echidnas, Bats and Possums. Take in the spectacular view of the Great Southern Skies on this fun, exciting and educational discovery walk. Our guided nocturnal walk is a must for all international guests!"
We still don’t know why it’s a must for international guests but it was pleasant evening and we went on it 3 times in the 16 days that we were there. The walk starts down Koala Avenue- the original farmer created a Koala walk by mistake by lining the drive with eucalyptus trees. We walk down KW and look for the koalas in the trees. Sometimes they will climb down and walk across the path but that is quite rare. Its sweet when they do though as they look like mechanized teddy bears. Most of the time the fact that its dusk just leads to quiet cursing as the bloody camera wont pick them out. Amusingly the koala makes a noise often described as a mix of harley Davidson and pig so that can make for a fun night.
The wallabys hopping about in the darkness normally leads people to stab their torch beams about wildly like an x files episode too. After the koalas we veer off into the new plantation to listen to Bruce talk about the trees and their reactions to bush fires and how they protect their leaves from leaf eaters. Then we walk along the fence to see the roos eating the hay that is thrown there for them 20 minutes before the walk starts. It’s an impressive view over the gently sloping fields and sometimes the roos have a bit of a fight which can be funny.
After that we have a look at some big ants and then its time to go into the square kilometre which is protected by electric fencing. Often Bruce will make the electrified wire touch the normal fence which creates an impressive CRACK noise and a big spark at which point the group takes a step back in unison. Once in the fenced area you pass through a little wooden hut where there are normally disturbingly large Huntsman spiders crawling about. Bruce claims this is to wipe your feet on the metal grid to avoid contamination but we think its because its funny to watch people get scared.
If you are lucky Amy the tame roo comes bounding out to see if Bruce has roo pellets in his hand and will let everyone stroke her. After this it’s a walk round the dirt path through the middle of the sanctuary with stops every few minutes to get the education part of the tour in. We normally see possums and tammar wallabies in here. Once that’s over it’s a slow stroll back to the car park often stopping for a look at the billions of stars in all their glory being as how the nearest light pollution is nearly 20 miles away and the nearest significant light pollution is more like 30 miles away.
Then its back to the car park for our goodbyes and Bruce usually gave us a lift back to our accommodation where we built a fire with fir cones and logs in the wood burning stove and had a delicious glass of really quite shitty paint thinner. Sorry, lambrusco.To save space and to minimise the RSI I seem to be developing the rest of KI will be divided as follows- work, play and things that go bump in the night. WORK: we will describe an average day and then, for the sake of our poor addled memories when we read through this in 50 years time we will put in the odd jobs we did too.
Work began at 9am. This meant we got up at about 8am normally, ate some Weetbix (they don’t have the “a” here for some reason) and then took turns in the spacious (ha!) bathroom. After a bit of Amy Winehouse on the Appple Iipod we’d saunter down to the office.
First job of the day was electric fence checking and bird bath filling. Bruce would be tapping away at the computer while we got the stuff together and tried to say hi to Joey without being bitten or boxed. He was cute really but he needed the occasional slap. The equipment we took was some basic tools for fence repair, an altometer or voltmeter or whatever the hell the thing that measures the current was called and a big tub of water for the birdbaths.
We also had some birdseed and a washing up brush to clean the feeders out with. The fence is nearly 5km around (we jogged it twice for exercise, its quite a tough route) so we always took the ute. I normally drove but sometimes K forced me to let her do it. We would check the fence periodically and occasionally it would develop a phantom fault because of rain or whatever and the little arrows would light up on the meter and we would chase back and forth trying to find it. If animals dug their way in you had to fill in the holes and cover them with rocks. Sometimes big branches would land on the fence and short it out so we removed them too.
After the fence we would drive up the koala walk and scrub out the bird baths and fill the seed trays. Mission accomplished we would drive back and get ready for stage 2. The chooks. The three moany old lady chooks lived in their chook house near the main house. We would feed them and let them out as they squawked and moaned about coming out. There was usually a tammar wallaby hanging about ready to nick the food but mostly the chooks ignored their pellets anyway and hopped up to the nearest bird feeder to gorge on the evidently more tasty bird seed. Next would come the cabins. Bruce was more pleasant to do these with but it was Lesley for the first few days until she and the dogs returned to the mainland. We would stack the ute with linen etc. and then drive the 8kms to the cabins including 2 kms on an excitingly skiddy dirt road. We would then strip the beds, make the beds, remove the shower curtain, clean the tiles, clean the sink, clean the toilet, replenish the soap and loo roll, wash the table, polish the cutlery, clean the crockery, empty the wood heater, fill the firewood basket, clean the windows, hoover the floor, top up the washing up liquid, empty the recycling, empty the compost, clean the communal BBQ (sometimes there were literally hundreds of flies in there) and fold the towels. The only decent thing that ever came of cleaning the cabins were when we got left some peas which Bruce stole for himself and when someone left half a bottle of wine which we got. Generally after we finished in the cabins it was lunchtime for which we got a generous hour. Nevermind that WWOOFers are supposed to do just 4-6 hours per day and that 9-2 was already 5 hours, we’d be back at 3 ready for another 2 hours. Every WWOOFer host takes the piss!!!!!!!!! Generally in the afternoon we would do a variety of different jobs. Here is a list of jobs that we completed in our time there. Tree planting, watering the veggies, moving piles and piles of leaves to create an animal habitat, watering the new trees, watering the garden, raking the Koala walk, raking the nocturnal walk, cutting and stacking firewood, feeding the roos, cleaning out Joey’s pen, stuffing envelopes and ironing.
The bigger jobs were with Ben, a guy about our age who worked there two days a week and lived in a hut with a dingo. He was awesome. He had a really strong Aussie accent and a high pitched laugh. He would always say “far out”, “awesome”, “strewth” and other Aussieisms. He was the one who showed us round the fence. Originally he was the eradicator of the feral animals. As he once said “yeah, I used to eat a lot of [feral] goat”. Or as Lesley put it “he used to spend weeks lying under hedges with a shotgun and eradicate things” PLAY:
In our 16 days on KI we had one day off and 4 afternoons off. The first afternoon was a trip to the remarkable rocks. We took the ute and set off for Flinders Chase National Park. Bruce gave us some free passes which helped and we were looking forward to getting out for the day. There is an extremelyt established tourist trail in KI and we were happy to follow it. Admirals Arch was first on our list: “Witness the amazing wild forces of nature. A viewing platform and boardwalk around the cliff face leads visitors to the spectacular natural arch sculptured by the sea, where New Zealand fur seals can be seen frolicking in the surf or resting on the rocks.
View Remarkable Rocks, another of nature`s wild sculptures” The steps down to AA were easy to negotiate and it was impressive to see the waves breaking through the arch. It did reek of seal poo though. We went back to the ute and drove round to the remarkable rocks. They were quite remarkable and we enjoyed getting a few pics in the shadow of the bizarrely shaped boulders scattered about.
It was a beautiful day and we wished we had brought books to read up there but eventually after staring out along the cliffs and at the ocean we went back to the ute and made our way home. KI suffered enormous bushfires in 2007 and we could see the road had acted as a firebreak. We tried to get some pics of the green trees on one side of the road and the blackened, leafless trees on the other to show the contrast.
Another afternoon off was spent at the Birds of Prey show. It was only 7 dollars each and it was absolutely fantastic. A newly established venture the host is a man who has raised eagles and other birds for over 20 years. The birds love him so much that his wife cant come near him when he is holding the wedge tailed eagle. This bird can kill a 100kg kangaroo in a single dive so wifey would not stand a chance! We sat in a mini ampitheatre made of wooden benches and listened to a great show. He obviously would be quite happy with his birds even if noone ever came but once you are there he seems to want you to love them as much as he does.
We let a variety of birds land on our gloved hands. K was won over by the softness of the barn owl and is now convinced that pigeons wont bother here in the UK anymore. The owl sat on her lap and the kookaburra landed on her hand. It was like St Francis of Assissi resurrected. The show was supp0osed to last 90 mins but after asking if anyone was bored (noone was) he kept on talking for over 2 hours and everyone was happy to listen as the man was an excellent presenter and the birds were brilliant. The other two afternoons off were spent on hanson bay beach. There is nothing between KI and antartica and so the sea is the coldest I have ever been in. So cold it gives you a headache to get in it.
On one afternoon K, Ben and I lounged about until Kirsty threw half the pages of her book in the sea and we had to collect them all up. Luckily K was able to direct the rescue effort from the shore. On the other afternoon Bruce fished while we read our books. He caught two salmon, cleaned them and gave them to us to eat for dinner which made him a popular man. DAY OUT The day off we had was excellent. Bruce lent us his 4 litre ford falcon to drive and we hit the tourist trail with a vengeance. The sky was blue, the LPG tank was full and we were bloody sick of work so it was with a burgeoning sense of freedom that we set out to see the delights of Kangaroo Island.
We were about to experience what would cost other tourists in excess of 300 quid to see- F.O.C. First stop was the poncey art gallery that Lesley had already shown us. Not for any poncey paintings mind you. We wanted the poncey chocolate that they sold. We got back in the ute and drove off, each of us sucking a piece of the chocolate orange bar we just paid an outrageous sum for. We’re worth it afterall! We arrived in Seal Bay having scored 50% in the test of waving at locals driving past and seeing if the ute fooled them into thinking we lived there. Seal Bay is a top attraction on KI “The South Coast Seal Bay tour on Kangaroo Island will see you revelling in the wonders of nature at world class Seal Bay Marine and National Park. Walk on the white beach amongst Australian Sea Lions in their own natural habitat. Watch these magnificent animals resting on the beach or surfing in the breakers.” But the old git at reception didn’t like our passes with our names written in pencil. He wrote over them in ink and then mistaking our suppressed rage for fear reassured us that we weren’t in any trouble. Thank god for that we thought. For a moment we thought we had acted on the pleasant daydream of smothering him with his own woolly jumper and burying him in the compost heap at the sanctuary, an eco friendly murder of which he would surely have approved.
That annoyance aside we wandered down the boardwalk with our guide and a load of thickos who don’t know what keep on the path means and then stumbled along the beach taking pics all over the place. A seal can run faster than a man apparently though the guides next story involved him just avoiding a nasty accident by outrunning one.
Whether the seal was a bit slow or the guide simply above average was not made clear but we suspect the latter. We took a charming video of a baby seal pup nosing a pebble along the shore. A still from the video will likely hang in our living room if it comes out as well as it looks like it might. We saw plenty of mummy and baby seals tramping along together which was nice and generally the beach was as lovely as you would expect being as how it is about 3kms from the best beach in Australia (there is a vote each year).
After Seal Bay we went to little Sahara, a collection of sand dunes with a frankly misleading name. For once the truth was even better than the name. A collection of sparkling white, 20 metre high dunes (kirsty’s facebook profile pic was taken here) sandboarders can be seen whizzing about and you can enjoy a calf destroying ascent followed by an enthusiastic sandy descent as your knees are swallowed by the dune. Calling it little Sahara makes it sound harsh and arid but its much better than that. And we were there. Ha ha.
After LS it was time for our magnificent lunch. We went to the Marron Café “It’s without doubt a complete food and wine experience that captures everything that is special about Kangaroo Island” We had a big platter of Marron (a lobster like thing). The platter was wonderfully set out with garlic king prawns on a skewer, a scallop each, 2 big marron fillets, Turkish breads, locally produced dips, lettuce and other salady bits all served with the posh choice of ice coffee. It was rather good, bloody expensive but WWOOFing saved us 50 quid a day and it was our valentines lunch so we enjoyed it. We needed to celebrate Valentines day as afterall, on the day itself all we did was watch the sunset on Ayers Rock with a glass of bubbly and we all know how crap that can be. Ha ha again!
After the marron we headed to Kelly Hill Caves which again were surprisingly interesting. Limestone caves filled with huge stalactites and stalagmites (?) which made the whole place look like the side of a wine bottle used as a candle holder but coming up from the floor as well as down from the ceiling. It was brilliant to descend down the steps and be shown where the original cavers came in and even where a little man made hatch reveals a pristine cavern absolutely covered in dripping limestone. After that we went for a quick walk at Hanson Bay, mainly so I could drive the crappy dirt road and try not to wreck the car. Then we went home. Most exciting.
THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT For the first few nights sleep was impossible. Possums would fight all night on the tin roof. Amazingly breathy animals would snort just the other side of the bedroom wall. It wasn’t always the nocturnal animals that were the problem though. We returned one day to find a 2m long tiger snake stretched across the doorway (3rd most venomous snake in the world). Luckily it buggered off or I would only have had about 7 minutes left to type all of this at the time.
LAST DAY (off to Adelaide again!) The last day was spent in Kingscote where we had coffee with Bruce and a look round. It was most pleasant as we were bloody sick of cleaning cabins and ready for the off.
We arrived back in Adelaide at about 10.30pm much to the annoyance of the hostel who prefer to shut reception earlier. Handily we got upgraded to a quadruple room which had a telly and all sorts of exciting stuff. There was a moment of excitement when I jumped into bed and shattered the base but it was fixable.
The next morning we changed hostels to Cannon Street Backpackers- a pleasant 20 minute stroll across the city. CSB had one of the annoying sort of reception staff who explain the ins and outs of the hostel for around half an hour and would obviously prefer to whip out a laptop and a copy of powerpoint so they could do it properly. We were in a dinky little 4 bed dorm.
It would become clear over the next 48hrs that we had inadvertently booked the thicko dorm. We seem to have membership to a club that ensures you get the fan-less dorms (unless it’s a cold night in which case the fan works overtime) populated by what Australians would call a bunch of drongos. Case in point the girl who turned on the light at 1am so she could floss her teeth in bed. Freak.
That first roasting hot day we went for a tour of the Jam Factory- “ JamFactory Contemporary Craft and Design is a unique centre for the design, production, exhibition and sale of work by leading and emerging Australian designer / makers. In 2004 JamFactory celebrated 30 years of successful operation. Our four studios work in the areas of Ceramics, Furniture, Metal and Glass, each combining a rigorous training program with commissions and high quality production work.a short walk from our hostel through sunny Adelaide. Like Sydney and Brisbane (and Melbourne), Adelaide is a lovely city to walk through. We think its because they all have roads that are wider than the buildings height- or that are at least close.
Arriving at The Jam Factory we enjoyed an hour’s tour including an exhibit where hamburgers rained on cliffs- and destroyed them to illustrate the impact of the fast food industry on the environment. Sorry if my description makes it sound good. It wasn’t. We also saw a CGI video of teenagers all killing each other but with impassive faces to indicate their goal was the destruction of beauty and that they were self obsessed. As the nan from Catherine Tate would say: “what a load of old shit”.
The main reason we were there was for the glass blowing demonstration. Looking back its hard to believe that we even went. It could be mainly explained by the fact that it was only 2 quid entry. The glass blowing part was interesting. It was exactly as you would expect except that all the glass blowers looked like they might be in a GAP advert. After we finished at the Jam Factory we walked back to the hostel for lunch. Just remember that if a packet of instant pasta is only a dollar, there is probably a reason why. We had time at lunch to admire the crappest kitchen in the world- over 30 knives and no forks. What the hell? Fortunately the afternoon started to look up with a Haigh’s Chocolate Factory tour. “Join us for a free 20 minute tour and find out about the history of the company and get a peek at how we turn a bitter cocoa bean into delicious chocolate. Afterward, enjoy a complimentary chocolate, tea and coffee.”. Two important words in that bit; "free" and "complimentary". We were forced to take a taxi to the factory because I took us to the wrong bus stop. Whoops. The tour was quite exciting if you are obsessed with chocolate. I enjoyed asking too many questions. Learning about conching was good. Haighs was founded pretty much on Lindt information. Haigh went over there to work with the Lindt family. Came back. Opened a chocolate factory. Nice one. There were quite a lot of free samples on offer, the tour guide was friendly like that. Probably because we didn’t just stare blankly like recently lobotomised chavs when she asked if we had any questions. Anyway, the coffee was complimentary and was surprisingly good, the free chox were excellent and they kept dishing up more free samples if you pretended you were just on the verge of actually paying for some.We bought a bag of misshapes, on the mistaken assumption that it was best to get as much as possible rather than getting something we would in fact enjoy, like roasted almonds enrobed in chocolate.
Anyway, lesson learned, there were a few decent ones at the top and then it was filled with rock hard toffees and liquorice crap. Next time we wont be so greedy. At least we had tried the free sample of hot cross bun truffles.
To offset our calorie footprint we decided to walk some of the way home which turned into all the way home because of yet more bus confusion. We made it eventually. That evening we went to the Adelaide Fringe Festival. There are hundreds of events to choose from but the Garden of Unearthly Delights seemed a favourite in all the articles we read beforehand. “Adelaide`s very own festival playground. A wonderland of sumptuous performance venues presenting the most wondrous shows this Fringe, gorgeous outdoor bars and cafes, carnival rides and fabulous free outdoor entertainment. The Garden has something to tantalise every tastebud! Roll up to our famous big top The Umbrella Revolution, indulge in fine cabaret and intimate performance in Europe’s Bosco Theatre and Le Cascadeur, shake it at the super chic SoCo Cargo, laugh yourself silly at The Garden Shed and The Pod and enjoy the very best of Australian puppetry in The Puppet Palace. Pick your pleasure, choose your poison, take a trip and delve into the eclectic carnival that isLastly that night we went to the late night cabaret show- while we waited for it to start we went back to the irish pub and ordered two drinks without realising happy hour had ended and that drinks were now three times the price. Bye bye budget!.
However we could not refuse the invitation extended by a cowboy, two drag queens and a burlesque dancer. Here is the blurb “We give you the best artists of burlesque, vaudeville, comedy, performance art, circus and dance for only $10. See the girl that juggles with her feet in red stilettos, the drag Queen that just wont die, a hula hooping cow boy, a stripping John Howard and a chocolate opera singing tiger that only happens once in 1000 years find her home where she belongs.”
It was a series of strippers (male and female), attention ho’s and transvestites. Quite good really. The 20 stone black drag queen in the full body camouflage cat suit was one of the more impressive though there were parts like the documentary of the comperes brother getting a traditional tribal tattoo that had the crowd spellbound.
The compere was a drag queen too who lost one of her eyelashes halfway through the show and spoke like a cross between james brown and a porn star. One act not mentioned above is Maureen the COCK…tail waitress. She danced along to some pop music while wearing a bra made from two lemon juicers and some poor bastard from the audience had to squeeze some lemons for her and then drink the cocktail.
We got home about 2am and after putting up with the flossing girl, fell asleep.The next day we looked round the indoor markets (a bit like the fish market layout but without the fish), and had a traditional Jaime and Kirsty lunch of a Subway.
Later that day we went back to the Garden to have some food from a stall, have a beer across the road and then watch Kirsty’s choice of show. The Grease Lightening Drag Show.
“Thirty years after John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John turned the musical Grease into a box office smash, Danny and Sandy are back on stage in a new production.But you’ve never them like this before… massive hairdos, screamingly loud costumes and tonnes of makeup… and that’s just the blokes. But then this is The Grease Lightnin’ Drag Show. Goody two shoes Sandy isn’t what she used to be – she’s gone up about five dress sizes, has a permanent scowl and seems strangely keen to meet up later with a man in the front row.”
It was surprisingly enjoyable and Kirsty cackled through it.
Then we went home.The next morning we started on our Adelaide to Melbourne tour with the arrogant Aussie guide who thought she was awesome with a capital A and hot with a capital H…when in fact she was just something with a capital T.
Check snapfish to fish for the snaps. Is that really the best HP could come up with?
Ps we are in New Zealand living in a van. In england we would be a step above hobos. Here, we are uber cool.
xx
Hi, we are in Christchurch at the moment and its bloody freezing. And we have neglected to upload about a billion photos. And we still have thousands of words to blog. Still, tomorrow we are off to Arthurs Pass so its not all bad. For now, lets concentrate on the Adelaide to Melbourne tour and the three days of joy that make up that happy happy time.
We got up and left the crappy backpackers we were staying in. I believe we have already spoken about the girl flossing her teeth at midnight, so when the alarm started its sweet song at 5.45am we were less than chuffed. Dragging our cases down the street we arrived at the Oz Experience office, got our allocated time being patronized by some idiot behind reception who normally tries to evaluate whether you might fool for the “oh there is a local payment for this tour” line. Studying our grim faces she decided to move straight on to the disclaimer form which, judging by the caliber of our tour guide, I am not surprised they have to get signed.
Luckily we had been blessed with a tour guide who judged herself somewhere between The Fonz, Clint Eastwood and Superwoman. She introduced herself over the mic as we rolled down the street (I mean the bus rolled down the street- upright despite being driven by someone of limited mental capacity)- she had been driving tour buses for years and for some reason this often makes the drivers think they are god like. Now if you or I drove people from the Wash, via Great Yarmouth to Southend every week for 10 years we would probably have a breakdown. Not this lady. She reveled in it. And in being better than you. Or me. Or anyone. All this while puffing on menthol cigarettes and looking more like a haggard streetwalker than a tour guide. Impressive.
Anyway, the bus drivers often like you to introduce yourself to other people. This can take the form of enforced seat swopping, playing noughts and crosses in marker on the windows, introducing yourself on the microphone at the front or it can involve “Hillary”, and the most retarded monologues ever. For instance,
“Team England! What do we know about England family? [it should be noted that she used to call us her family whilst on tour- draw your own conclusions on that one] Well, I guess its famous for football, not that youre particularly good at it…er….fish and chips….David Beckham…fighting in pubs abroad…drinking…what else, what else? Oh yeah, Wembley Stadium”
She did this for every nationality. By the end, no one even knew anyone elses names. When Hugh was spotted drinking straight from a bottle of whiskey in later days everyone secretly understood why. He had to. To stand the pain of it.
Luckily things improved quickly, our guide (we’ll call her Hillary from now on to protect her identity, even we balk at calling people haggard streetwalkers to their face. Behind their back is fine though, funny eh?) provided little pillows which we used to settle down comfortably- if you’re going to pretend not to be bored, might as well do it in comfort eh? Lunchtime came around and we went to Subway, a reliable moment of happiness in an otherwise monotonous drive. We had some of the lovely 99% fat free chocolate milk that we enjoy so much when we are feeling flush. I disctinctly recall a bottle of diet coke too. The high life. Cant put a price on it.
After lunch was another treat. An albino kangaroo farm. “Hillary” gave us a crap introduction about how they are subsceptible to disease etc and cant stand the sun and yet volunteers staff the place and zoos sometimes pay good money for specimens. Hillary enjoyed ranting on about her world views, never once questioning with all due respect, who cares what she thinks?
The albino roos just looked weird and it was hard to tell if they were as frail as she made out. It was 40 degrees afterall, youll find all roos in the shade looking lethargic at that temperature. So all in all a weird first stop.
It was too hot to do the climb of Mount Hollow so we went on to see some more cave art. Honestly, if Tony Hart had been alive in that time The Gallery would have been the same old shit week in week out. Looking at more handprints and walls with 1 slash on for 10 men and one circle on for a crow or whatever was about as illuminating as the last time we saw cave art. Im not normally a massive fan of art galleries but honestly, at least at most galleries the artist doesn’t blow coloured powder between their hands and call it a picture. Unless it’s a nursery.
Then we went to Mackenzie Falls. As usual with falls you get to walk all the way down a billion steps to check out the bottom of the falls. In this case the falls were pretty and it was fun to imagine the people who disregarded the swimming prohibited signs suddenly being yanked under the water by a shark. That’d learn em.
Up up up up up we climbed to get out. By this time we had learnt the names of a few people from afar so were enjoying chatting about them/to them as we went along. That always makes it a little less weird to spend 72 hours with complete strangers.
We stayed at a hostel that night where “Hillary” cooked dinner after threatening us with the washing up. The dinner was quite nice and I felt free to have a wheelbarrow full of it. After din dins everyone went to the pub but Kirsty and I latched onto Jade and Lindsey. Lindsey had wine and wasn’t afraid to share it so we helped her drink it and then went to bed.
Day 2: We walked up a mountain in the Grampians which was a fun climb up some fairly steep stairs winding through some strange rock formations. We navigated our way using tiny blue arrows painted on rocks every 100 metres or so, unfortunately these were so small that we cursed ourselves for forgetting our electron microscope. The views from the top were as splendid as ever with plenty of opportunities for excellent pictures.
The way back provided superb entertainment. K and I along with Fight (don’t know his real name but that’s exactly how it was pronounced) were all convinced that the others knew where they were going. Unfortunately I think I sort of led people down the mountain by arbitrarily picking paths based on the angle of the sun and a disant ridge line. It’s a shame that that’s a shit way to navigate. We slowly realized that we were lost. The good news was that Fight was eminently capable and started to scramble over rocks and through seemingly impenetrable bush. He had studied geography at university and was convinced he could rescue us. Personally I concentrated on hiding our water bottles from him and being satisfied that he was in front of us and therefore ill equipped to defend himself when it came to the point where we would eat him to ensure our survival. Fight led us back on to the main path some 50 minutes later just as I was wondering how to light a fire with no sticks and whether Kirsty would be squeamish when it came to the rock-on-the-head part.
Hillary was out looking for us when we got back to the coach- a resounding cheer greeted us. Hillary appeared a little later and didn’t even look relieved, just irritated. Its not like we scrambled about suppressing tears of fear for an hour on purpose you know.
Subway restored our vitality. Yum yum.
We started along the Great Ocean Road that day. We stopped at various interesting rock formations along the way- the Lace Curtain, London Bridge, Razorback etc. These names are misleading and unfortunate. The rock formations are impressive and unique. The names are a pathetic attempt to jazz them up even more. London Bridge looks nothing like its namesake but it is very appealing nonetheless. Check the pictures and youll see what I mean.
Later we visited a nice beach and I did some body surfing which is a euphemism for I drifted about in the waves and then had some of Hugh’s whiskey. Nice. Kirsty likes it when I drink whiskey in the middle of the day with my shirt off. Kind of reminds her how lucky she is.
That night we were due to see the sunset at the 12 Apostles. “The Twelve Apostles are a collection of natural limestone stacks standing just off shore in the Port Campbell National Park, on the Great Ocean Road in Victoria, Australia. Their proximity to one another has made the site a popular tourist attraction. Originally the site was called the Sow and Piglets. The name was changed in the 1950s to the more majestic "The Twelve Apostles" to lure more visitors even though there were only nine left.” As usual we can see a cheeky namechange to something more jazzy to jazz up something that needs no wordplay to impress, it simply is worth going to see. Google it and check the images, on a clear day its breathtaking. For us it was simply cloudy, very cloudy so we will not discuss it further.
We stayed at the 13th Apostle hostel that night and Hillary managed her crowning glory- when people walked off without listening to her bleating instructions she shouted behind them, “well Fuuuck you!” and gave them the finger with each hand. A breathtaking display of professionalism. Awesome.
We had a BBQ that evening and accidentally had three helpings which induced a bellyache. Then we had a drink with our group after the failed sunset outing. Our bit of the group was off in its own little house so we had it on the verandah. It was a great night actually. That many interesting people in one group is a rarity.
Day 3: We drove more of the Great Ocean Road on this day which is the road that you have probably seen in a million car adverts. It would have been more impressive without Hillary’s constant moaning about the hungover people missing the views by choosing to sleep instead. Shut up and drive bitch! This was the day I got up at 6.00am and rang Mum on her birthday. Yes, 10 good-son-points to me. Before we left for the GOR we visited a cave, a beach and a cemetery which really tells you all you need to know about this bit.
Before lunch we did a tree top walk. The best one of these is still in Salcey Forest as far as I am concerned.
Lunch was in Appollo Bay where they make great steak sandwiches should you ever go there. And nice cookies too. After lunch we drove to see some Koalas at Lorne. They were hanging about in the trees as usual and were cute as ever. Debating whether to have an icecream we settled on chewing gum instead and immediately regretted it as we pulled out of the car park. Bells Beach was next on the agenda.
Its famous as the best beach in Australia for surfing and Point Break was filmed there. Sadly War Child was no longer around waiting to start fights with an unsuspecting Keanu so we moved on. On our travels we saw the lighthouse where Round the Twist was filmed. But only from very far away. If they could get Bronson to lead tours round it the money would pour in.
Surf City was the last port of call on this trip. It’s a massive shopping complex. Thanks for the true Aussie itinerary tossers!
And that was the end of that trip. Good times ahead in Melbourne.
We had one day in Melbourne after the tour. The night of the last day we went to an underground bar (in the literal sense) and had a steak sandwich. Or to give it the title from the menu (chalkboard on the wall, not hidden) we had a "Fuck off Steak Sanga". Anything with a name like that was always going to be good. And it was. We were staying at The Ritz for Backpackers, mainly because it was above an English pub (unfortunately with London prices)- it was a really friendly hostel and the free pancakes in the morning were awesome. They really set us up for the day.
We needed to prepare for our WWOOFing in Tasmania by going to Big W (basically Primark but cheaper) and getting some nice trackie daks as they call them here. Apparently Tassie would be cold. Quite cold and it would be silly to turn up in shorts as we would freeze to death. Also, we needed long trousers for all the horseriding we would be doing. As it turns out that wasn’t an issue as you will read in later entries.
We had lunch in china town which we have discovered is THE place for cheap food. Yummy yummy. In the evening we went to a little Italian restaurant and had a pizza. After that we buggered about trying to get stuff out of our suitcases and into the bin in order to make the 20kg limit for Jet Star flights. Next- a month of madness in Tasmania.
Before delving in to this, our most exciting and probably tiresome (to compose) blog entry so far we think its wise to divide it into sections. So it will go like this. Arrival day. Introduction to work day. Typical day. General moaning. Animals. Attempt to say nice things. Day off. Day out. Relief at making it to Gueta’s. Wine anyone?
Arrival day:
We left Melbourne and caught the tram to the bus station where we caught the bus to the airport. At the airport we caught a plane. At Hobart airport we caught a bus. Then we caught another bus (which kindly waited for us) and then we got off in Huonville (pronounced Hugh-en-ville). We didn’t know if Conny was picking us up as we had not had a reply from her. We’d already had to phone her twice and email her about 10 times to organize the WWOOF. As we would discover, organization is not her strong point. Or even a point as far a she is concerned. Anyway we stood on the main street of Huonville which is a relatively appealing little strip of shops and a fried chicken shop lovingly named Legs and Breasts. Wikipedia will tell you: uonville is a town on the Huon River, in the south-east of Tasmania, Australia. It lies 38 km south of Hobart on the Huon Highway. The population has been stable for some years (2001 census).[1] The town lies within the Huon Valley Council area.
The first Europeans to set eyes on the Huon River were the crew commanded by Admiral Bruni d`Entrecasteaux. The river was named by him in honour of his second in command, Captain Huon de Kermadec. The name is preserved today in many features: the town, the river, the district and so on. The first European settlers were William and Thomas Walton in 1840.
Huonville was not originally intended as the site of a town. Nearby Ranelagh was laid out as the town of Victoria in colonial days. Huonville grew around the bridge crossing the Huon River and hotels at the bridge.
Today the Huon Valley is best known as one of Tasmania`s primary apple growing areas. Once enormous in its extent, the significance of the industry has declined steadily since the 1950s and today cherries and fish farming are the rising commercial star of the district.
The Huon River and the nearby d`Entrecasteaux Channel are popular fishing and boating areas. The Channel is sheltered from the wrath of the Southern Ocean by the bulk of Bruny Island to the east.
Tourism is important - the area is renowned for its scenic beauty.
Poised on the edge of the south-west wilderness, forestry has been an important economic driver to the area since colonisation and in recent decades controversial. A wood-based industrial park nearby was the subject of extensive community discussion but is now built and operating successfully. There have been several recent controversies over development in the region, particularly over logging at Recherche Bay and the development of a tourist resort inside the National Park at Cockle Creek.
Huonville is the seat of the municipality of the Huon Valley, the most southerly Council area in Australia.
Huonville has expanded since the 1980s as the commercial centre of the Huon Valley” Which tells you all you need to know, and more!
As we stood by the little IGA supermarket which we would later learn sold fantastic morrocan lamb pies we chatted idly and crossed our fingers everytime a Porsche showed up (which was never in this dipshit place but there was the occasional nice 4x4. We had just checked the email at the DS Internet Lounge- a lovely café/net place run by two gay guys who were most amusing and knew someone would turn up soon.
As a battered old Toyota Hilux crunched into the car park, with half the front stoved in, looking barely road worthy we resigned ourselves to the obvious. This would no doubt be our lift. We had already been told on the phone that the previous resident of our tiny cottage had left the place a complete state and that our first job would be to clean it. That’s if we even make it that far we secretly thought.
One beautifully scenic drive later we did make it. The Horsehaven property is impressive, set on a hill leading down to a creek it was a lovely place that my paintspa picture does not do justice to unfortunately. See pics on Get jealous for the amazing rendering that K and I achieved of the place.
That night we met Candy ( a lovely lady from Taiwan who is 32 but looks about 19), Puay Lim a Singaporean lady with a penchant for talking a lot about everything but in a sincere and fascinating manner (we love you Puay Lim! See you in Paris!!! J), Sybille was the German girl who collected us in the car and would become a rock for us in the next few weeks and of course the inimitable Conny who would guide us in our work, annoy us in our work, bake cakes for us, get us up at the crack of dawn, take us horseriding, miss countless opportunities for more/better rides, take us on a day out, charge us if we used the washing machine, cook lovely meals for us, hide the better ingredients from us at lunchtimes, give us honey when we left, make quite a lot of our time there an unbearably tense nightmare and then apologise at the end and presume its all ok again. Bad news…its not.
That first evening we went to feed the horses with Candy. Located up to 2 kilometres up the road the horses would have wet food, Lucerne, hay, apples and water in varying amounts twice a day. While Candy was there this was the bulk of the work as she refused to drive Connys car. Actually she pretended not to have a license. The roads around the place are unsealed which makes it easy to skid a car. Some weeks before another WWOOFer had caused the damage to Connys car that we saw that first night. This poor WWOOFer had skidded on a bend that would be later described by one of the neighbours as being littered with so much glass from other smashes that it can be blinding in the sunlight. Anyway, the WWOOFer caused 3k worth of damage to the car and Conny being half sharp had been cunning enough to save 150 dollars by opting for 3rd party insurance. Not having bothered to tell the WWOOFer this she promptly demanded 3k from the WWOOFer, who, to her credit, offered half. This was completely unacceptable to Conny and we would hear much about it in the coming weeks. For the record Conny I would have given you nothing. You should insure your own damn car.
Moving swiftly on, Candy attempted to explain everything but it was a bit too dark to understand. We would have fed the horses earlier but Conny had been taking Candy on a horse ride. Candy was leaving in the morning. Unfortunately for poor old Candy despite the WWOOF book description saying she could ride in her spare time the past 14 days hadn’t yielded a moment for the complicated task of saddling the stallion that crops grass 30 metres from the house.
Hence, after 2 weeks of no pay and lots of heavy work Candy was treated to a 30 minute walk on a horse. Hip hip fucking hooray. It’s a shame because Candy clearly loved the horses and was sad when she said goodbye to them. As Candy said- Conny says to use a stick to get the horses to keep their distance but Candy would not bother with that as she liked the horses to crowd in close so she could hug them. How could you only give someone like that a ride, in the dark on their last day? We’d soon find out!
That night we slept in the roadhouse, a tiny one room shack built by Steve, Conny’s extremely recent ex. No curtains meant it was chilly and we ended up putting masking tape around the doors and windows as there were big gaps and the tape kept the mossies out. Conny told us the heater was too expensive to run so if we were cold we had to put our woolly hats on. That’s after we had to break into the little cottage she rents out to tourists. She’d locked the keys in so we had to climb in through the window to get bed covers. She’d only known we were coming for the last 14 weeks so you cant blame her for not getting round to making the bed.
We went to bed wondering what the hell we had let ourselves in for. Did I mention she was basically vegetarian?
We got up at 6.50am and fed the horses with Candy. Feeding the horses is a bit of a bugger in itself. We can discuss that in the Animals section though. The point is it was six friggin fifty am and we were knuckle deep in copra, the crap the horses eat which smells like tobacco mixed with Weetabix. The reason we fed them so early is that I had to drop Conny off at work. Never mind that I didn’t know the area, I was to drive her 6km to work and then make my way back despite having arrived in pitch blackness the night before. Anway, I did it and made arrangements to collect Conny at 4.15pm. Kirsty and I learnt how to water the plants from Candy including the Veggie garden. As with all control freaks Conny had extremely specific ways of watering(on the flip side if there was no WWOOFer there was no watering) so it took a while to pick up the tips Candy had to share.
The watering is yet another classic Conny moment. A few weeks in to our stay after having watered for almost 6 hours a week we discovered a working irrigation system that could do it all automatically. Left there by Conny’s first husband she hadn’t thought to investigate the black pipe that just happened to run past every flowering plant in a 30 metre radius. Her neighbor, who builds irrigation systems for a living helped K and I get it together again. The veggie garden needs watering all the time. She has over 30 metres of discarded irrigation piping in the yard. She has an irrigation expert for a neighbor. Yet you will still find WWOOFers watering that flippin garden every day. Need a hard way to do something? Conny’s your girl! She’ll complicate it, over analyse it, criticize it and more! Brilliant.
Conny surprised us by coming home early. This soon became an issue. Despite pleading poverty all the bloody time Conny would always find an excuse to come home early from work at the apple orchard. She would always have enough cash for her organic ingredients, she always had enough for overpriced coffee in town. Unfortunately she never had enough to share though. Poor old Conny didn’t have a mortgage, owned several acres of land, ran a riding and accommodation business, had a free water supply, owned milking goats and 9 lovely horses. As you can tell she was hard up. Who can blame her for not letting us use the washing machine. Its not as if the launderette was 10 miles away. Whoops, yes it was.
Conny kept us busy until long after dark that day establishing a pattern of work to include all manner of nonsensical tasks and unfortunately for us we were still under the impression that hard work would result in free horse rides. This was a mistake. Conny will tell you all the time that she’s all about everyone else. That’s bullenschieser. Conny is all about number one. She’ll tell you over a slice of cake and a special coffee she’s brewed up for herself while you drink instant that she’s desperately busy. She’s not. She’s desperately disorganized and refuses to be helped. We would fall for this routine over the next few weeks.
Puay Lim kept us a pleasant stream of chatter over the day and as she was a bit older than us she could get away with disagreeing more with Conny than we could. This was enjoyable. We all had dinner that night. I cooked and was not asked to again for 2 weeks so they obviously liked the cooking.
A typical day would involve getting up at 6.30am. We would stagger to the house and get some warm water for the horse food. Conny would begin going on about stuff that needed to be done, often leaving phone numbers of people we didn’t know who we had to ask favours of. In most cases the number she left was missing a digit so that ducked that one. On one memorable occasion she gave me her own phone number to ring instead of a friends. Hmmm
Anyway, we would feed the horses which would take 45 minutes and we didn’t master in the whole time we were there. Conny did it with us about 6 times in the time we were there and she always, always, always criticized the way we did it. She was such a control freak it is amazing we put up with it really. Youll see in the photos and in the bit of the blog where we don’t moan why we did.
After the feeding we would have breakfast. Then if we were really lucky a shower. Then we would check the eggs (one one memorable evening I would hold a rooster while she clipped its wings with scissors), sneak Patchy a bit of food, check the goats water, water the veggies, water the pots, water the plants, pick the veggies, pump the water (killer job), wash up the unbelievable amount of shit Conny generated every morning no doubt in the sort of daze that allows you to confuse WWOOFer with slave and then maybe have lunch. In the end this was often toast as Conny was too poor to afford much more. Never mind the 10 hours of work a day Conny. Ill just have toast.
Other jobs over the weeks:
Cleaning the love shack- a shack down by the river where her kids spent a lot of time. The homemade bongs and condoms probably belonged to other people. We found newspapers from 1950 in the cupboards.
Cleaning the cars. Fun fun fun. Hours polishing cars she borrowed off neighbours. We chose this job because it was something she couldn’t possibly find fault with.
Paint the roadhouse. This took two days. At the end of it she remarked over dinner- have you started painting. Thanks for noticing.
PC Work- created several forms for the business that would help WWOOFers say something more than “I dunno” when people enquired about accommodation or riding. Naturally I almost had to bloody sell the ideas to her. Who’s helping who we wondered.
Cleaning the cottage. If there was a week between stays K would clean it 6 days in advance and then give it a 10 minute touch up the day before. Conny would put the linen into the cleaners the night before, forget when the customers ordered breakfast (once memorably driving to town 3 times in one day for no real reason) double book the damn cottage and often be in there changing sheets as guests pulled into the driveway. After 6 days of the cottage being vacant! WTF!
Get the horse and make the picnic- one of the more interesting jobs. Go into a paddock with a halter hidden behind you, bribe a horse with some hay and then halter up that baby while its munching. Then lead it back.
Feed the horses in the dark at night. After a while it seemed Conny was scheming to make us do this in the dark along with putting their blankets on. They get uppity just being fed let along having massive swathes of heavy blanket swept across them in the pitch black. On several occasions I swear she was waiting for night fall. Just another little bit of thoughtfulness.
Holding the horses whilst they were shod. Kirsty held Bonny (Connys favourite) while it was shod. In doing so she became the first WWOOFer for 10 years who could calm Bonny enough to do it. Bonny was already back in her field when Conny showed up 20 minutes late and accused us of leaving the farrier waiting. She was not pleased to discover that she was not essential to the proceedings and that the farrier was just finishing off the last horse. Ha!
Tethering goats. Goats are bastards. Its simple. Put a chain round its neck and drag it a third of a mile down a steep hill and then tell us different. They are sweet though. God they can be hard work. We tethered them (incorrectly of course though they both inexplicably survived our mistreatment of them) at the bottom of the creek field where they could munch the blackberry plants. Bless.
Star pickets- try to get a picket out the floor and see how far you get. Itll take you 15 minutes and a pickaxe at best. Don’t bend them though (happens easily) or Conny will look puzzled (despite not being strong enough to do it herself) and say “you dassnt bend them” in a bewildered tone. Sometimes you cant friggin help it. Say for instance if the bloody pickets are buried 2 feet in solid ground. Thanks also for showing us how to turn off the electric fence before we started mucking about with it- not.
Blackberries- pull up all the blackberry plants wearing only thin gloves. This was monotonous. Trying to do jobs without the right tools was one of the more annoying aspects of this WWOOF. That and only having fucking toast for lunch after working for 6 hours in the morning.
Feeding the horses- this would be done at 7am and then just before dinner as long as it was already dark. If not, Conny would tell you to relax and eat and then moan that it hadnt been done. AAAAAARRRGGGGHHHH!
The day would end with dinner around 9pm, Conny would often be giving us things to do the next day right up until we left the main house to go to bed at 10.30pm.
The post on moaning should be a long one, afterall we worked for over three weeks, for an average of 10 hours per day for no pay and very, very basic accommodation with a mattress on the floor and no curtains at the windows. Work was generally quite hard going- the water containers for the horses were heavy enough that only I could carry them by myself and we were lifting them up and onto a ute twice a day- sometimes we would do runs of 10-12 containers to top up the old bath some of the horses had for water. Conny was so unbelievably attached to her horses that when someone had a problem when riding them we would have to listen for hours about how the horse was the sweetest, kindest animal ever and it couldn’t possibly have been anything to do with it- it must be the rider who was probably stupid or something (cue inane laugh.
Other annoying things-
Having to drive 15km into town instead of using the washing machine. When Sybille had no choice but to use it Conny asked her for 80 cents for electricity (about 40p). This says it all really.
Saying the following all the time
“I just really quickly go and...”
“You must be really sparingly (sic) with the horse food”
“Can you hurry up in there I really need the toilet”
“You don’t need a heater, I once slept in a horse float in winter with no heater, when I woke up there were icicles on the ceiling”
“Splenda is very bad for you, you must listen to my Sweet Misery, a Poisoned World CD, then you will know better”
“I don’t eat pigs, firstly the meat is incredibly similar to human meat [cue meaningful look] and pigs are very intelligent creatures, also they are treated badly, also, I don’t like pork [the real reason!]”
“I wonder what Steve would think of her”
“You must”
“don’t forget”
“we really need to”
“we must”
“could you just”
“do you think we could”
“i just really quickly...”
“thats really expensive”
“i cant afford it”
“i think they must have too much money”
“no, i don’t think so”
“thats too complicated” this is when I saved some directions from Google Maps to email people wanting to find Conny’s place. She averaged 10 minutes on the phone everyday just doing this. Her response to the directions were that they are too complex. I resign!
“this food is too wet”
“this food is too dry”
“I have so much to do”
“we don’t have time”
“i don’t think we will be able to”
“can you meet me at work on the bike, it will save 10 minutes” it was a 7km ride to her work
“are you ready”
“i just (sic) be a minute”
Other annoying habits included getting up late to make customers breakfasts and discovering, suprise suprise, she doesn’t have the ingredients. Furthermore, spending 32 dollars on breakfast ingredients and then charging 28 dollars for it. She simply would not have it that it was a bad idea. “I just think of what I would have in a lovely breakfast” Yeah, but youre losing money.
Another classic was her insistence that we sit down to a nice breakfast (toast and honey with much fluttering of napkins) before starting work. Despite sitting opposite the clock she managed to then have a little hissy fit after breakfast that it was getting late and the horses hadn’t been fed, seemingly missing the irony of the fact that it was here who prevented us feeding them!
There are more annoying things that happened on our day out but we will speak about that later!
This will be the most upbeat part of this blog. The animals were many and varied as they say.
Dogs: Bushy was the collie cross farm dog who liked to have his bum massaged and barked at you until you obliged. He was quite old but would go on all the horserides. The crowning achievement of our stay there was finding a comfortable old dog bed Steve left behind without Conny noticing. We gave it to Bushy and he spent many a night chuffing softly upon it.
Teddy- a Pomeranian (spelling), normally little dogs are a bit like mosquitoes, annoying with no discernible purpose. What made Teddy funny was his being convinced that he was a full size dog. He spent his days barking at everything and humping anything that moved. The little git.
Goats: arguably some of the sweetest animals there though a terrifying 7 feet tall when standing on their hind legs trying to get over the fence to the hay. Mavis and Rapunzel were always happy to be scratched on the top of the head, right between the stumps where their horns used to be. They would munch on anything and we like to feed them apples because they are more suited to chewing softer things like brambles than crunching whole apples. It took Mavis a good 5 minutes to eat an apple, head thrown back so gravity didn’t steal here prize between desperate attempts at clamping her gums around it. Tethering them was not much fun but it was sweet when they looked around what must have seemed like a paradise to them. From their grassy paddock to the edge of a creek lined with blackberry bushes must have seemed a miracle.
Horses: Ghandi lived at Ranelagh so we didn’t see him much but we did see Patchy, Keanu, Bonnie, Sutra, La Douce, Shaula, Cruiser and Spirit. Patchy was a fat pony who’s paddock was next to the main house. In desperate need of exercise (quick clue- why not discount the price of rides on him??) he was not allowed any food, jus t the grass in his paddock. Being a sweet little pony who would try to headbutt you when he was hungry we would usually bring him apples or maybe a piece of sourdough bread. His paddock was set on a steep hill so often we would roll apples down it and he would frantically chase them for exercise. We still remember him flailing about in the mud. Bless.
Keanu was the stallion who lived in the paddock opposite the entrance to the drive. He would have hay and apples. He was a stocky looking horse with a nice temperament. We soon worked out a system of entry to the paddock. He would have one bite of hay over the gate- maybe two at a pinch, then he would dutifully back up so I could get in the paddock to distribute the rest of it. Often he would gallop the length of the field when we got to the gate which was an exciting sight. From outside the gate we would simply admire it. From inside I would start waving my arms like a weirdo and shouting Whoa, Whoa long before he came within Jaime stompin’ range.
Bonnie and Sutra were mother and foal in the next field. Bonnie was a mature horse and you could tell from the slightly bored attitude she had to us feeding her and putting her blankets on. She was lovely though- slightly standoffish at first but as we mentioned earlier Kirsty is the first WWOOFer in years for whom she has stood still whilst being shod. Sutra is her 3 month old foal, her little mane looks more like a Mohican, she is dark brown growing in intensity to a coal black around the legs. This nutty horse would bound about the paddock when she heard the car, and hence food, arriving. Being young she was extremely easy to spook and you had to be wary that you didn’t set her off.
Shaula and La Douce lived in the field opposite Bonnie and Sutra. They didn’t seem to like each other all that much though Conny would kill you if you ventured that opinion. Kirsty went for a ride on Shaula but neither of us went on La Douce. They were both sweet horses too and when Shaula went to live with Ghandi we piled apples into La Douce’s field to help her feel better.
Cruiser and Spirit lived 1.8km up the road. They were difficult to feed sometimes as Spirit was the dominant one but Cruiser loved his food. Spirit was Conny’s favourite, still a little bit wild you had to be careful around him. Personally if I broke in a horse 18 years previously I would expect a little more obedience from him in general but Conny likes it that he only behaves for mummy. Cruiser she generally refers to as obnoxious and seems to hate him though she did nurse him back to health from a bad accident some years prior. Cruiser was one of our favourites, tall, deep black and imposing he looked like a police riot horse. He was a bit uppity but in a different way to the others. Because he was so big he didn’t spook so easily and was more likely to stamp his feet in a pissed off rather than frightened manner. He was the horse most suited to the heavier men. Therefore there was no time in nearly a month for me to have a go. Draw your own conclusion.
Chooks- we fed the chooks each morning and whenever we dropped compost into the heaps they would come running full pelt to peck through it. Checking for eggs was fun each day though if Conny saw them she would always use them for baking. If you wanted to actually eat the damn things it was best to check after Conny went to work. There were some renegade chooks. Conny and I tracked them down one night and she clipped their wings. Obviously this simple task was done in the dark. Fun fun.
Neighbours- though obviously not animals they were really, really lovely people. Roz and Jo were the main ones we met. They always invited us in, made conversation, helped with whatever we needed. They were ideal. End of story on that one really.
You might be wondering at this point why we stayed. But let’s be honest about this- the Huon Valley is one of the most beautiful places we have seen on our travels so far. Rolling hills, thickly forested mountains, creeks, blackberry bushes, paddocks full of horses everywhere and the other ever present and wonderful animals make it a breathtaking place to be.
Before we came travelling one of the things that inspired me more than the quotes on the getjealous page was the final interview with Brandon Lee before he died making The Crow: “Because we do not know when we are going to die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well and yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number really. How many times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood? An afternoon that is so deeply a part of your being that you cannot conceive of your life without it? perhaps 4 .... 5 times more. Perhaps not even that. How many times will you watch the full moon rise ...... perhaps twenty and yet it all seems limitless”
Maybe if he hadn’t died an extremely short time later you could dismiss that as sentimental, mawkish shite. However, dying as he did some days/weeks later it has an impact. The point I am trying to make is that we stayed there because we watched the sunrise nearly everyday, daily we saw the moon slowly make its way above the ridgeline. We liked to spend time with the horses before daylight even fully arrived. We enjoyed watching the goats munch contentedly by the creek. We loved the quality of light that came with the late afternoon. We didn’t even mind watering the plants or picking the vegetables.
What about Conny I hear you ask. Well, there are two sides to every story and here is the other. Conny is a self confessed anti intellectual, hater of the rich, maniacal type A personality crossed with a bohemian outlook and one of the nicest people that you could wish to meet.
She was all of these things. When she was in the mood to be she could be fascinating, she’s led a rich life in certain aspects – within this sphere of experience she is an animated conversationalist. Outside of it she can be naive or blinkered. Ask her about a self sufficient lifestyle, cooking, gardening, riding (as long as you don’t expect her to take you!) and shell talk for hours and be a fount of wisdom.
Ask her to balance more than 2 tasks and wonder where the hell the chill pills went. You know how some people are great outside of work but in office hours its best to keep out their way- That’s Conny.
Unfortunately office hours seemed to be daylight. The funny thing is WWOOFers are only supposed to work 6 hours per day but Conny always has applications from fresh WWOOFers keen to ride the horses. You cant complain about the hours because she’ll say to leave if you don’t like it. But new people are only coming because they have read the lying advert. Catch 22.
And that’s my attempt to be nice about things.
The day off was a farce from day 1. We had planned to rent a car with Sybille but Conny decided she would take us all south for the day in the 13 year old Ford Laser she had borrowed off a neighbour. Setting off at the crack of 10am we made it to the local village of ? to see the village fair. After an hour of wasted time there we climbed back in the car (midday by this time) to see how much more time we could waste. An hour or two up the road we stopped for an expensive coffee. Conny never ever buys you anything, in fact we would have to pay for the petrol on this day despite not having chosen the route. Suitably satisfied by the high prices and moaning in general about the place under her breath we left for another 2 hour drive. We arrived at some thermal pools at 3pm and Conny got out to have a look at the opening times, claiming she couldn’t see them we went for a walk. I say walk but I actually mean jog. After spending all morning criticising bushwalks that used the easy option of boardwalks we walked along a (you guessed it!) boardwalk for 30 mins, stood for 10 by the side of a lake and then practically ran back to make it in time for the thermal pools which we guessed shut at half five. It was 4.30pm by this time. Tally so far, 4 hours driving, 1 hour walking, 20 minutes in a shitty cafe.
On arriving at the thermal pools we found the doors locked. In large letters, permanently affixed to the inside of the very door conny had looked at earlier it said POOLS CLOSE AT 4.30PM DAILY. This confirmed Kirsty’s suspicion that Conny didn’t really want to go there anyway. On the way home Conny suggested we could buy our own dinner in town (goddammit woman you only have to supply accommodation in a crappy hut and some food and now you even want out of that deal!) but we flatly refused. As usual we fed the horses in the dark and then cobbled together something to eat. As is typical of Conny, she claimed she was not hungry but then when someone else cooks she asks for some. The nerve.
That was our day out with Conny. 7 hours in a Ford Laser and a 1 hour walk that was mediocre at best. Thanks for nothing. I mean that sincerely.
Contrast that to the day out Sybille, Kirsty and I had. I took the bus to Hobart at 7.30am. Conny couldn’t drive me to Huonville because that would have involved being helpful. After 2 weeks of driving her car daily she had decided no one was to drive it any more in case of accidents. Or in case it might help them and not you we thought. Anyway, bush Pete gave me a lift. Absolute salt of the earth was old Bush. His dog was lovely too. Classic Pete joke- whats the dogs name Pete? Sol. Ahsol. Cue big grins all round. Great guy. Dropped me in town and asked for nothing in return. Recommended a route. Left me feeling quietly excited about the day rather than like I was in a childhood nightmare of being at school having forgotten to get dresses which is the mindframe Conny provides.
I collected the car from Budget and drove back to Huonville. It was another gorgeous day and for the first time I could see how the Valley is still cloudy at 10am while up in Hobart its pure blue sky. I collected Kirsty and Sybille. We had wanted to use the washing machine and hang out some clothes, we had told Conny we would pay her for it but in an amazingly convenient misunderstanding Conny had already put some clothes on to wash that morning so we were unable to. Funny how that sort of thing happens eh?
Sybille and Kirsty had packed a nice looking picnic and like everyone European can, S had made excellent sandwiches. Like only an English person can Kirsty had provided all the makings for tea, flasks etc. We specialise in it. We drove off at 10am and made our way to Mount Wellington. An enjoyably winding drive later we were up top. It was bloody freezing but you could see right out across Hobart and the sea. It was a lovely day and we enjoyed taking some pictures. On the way back down we stopped at some little stone huts and had a cup of tea and examined the map.
We decided to go to Russell Falls and after a brief stop at a little wooden souvenir shop we drove straight there. Upon entering the national park we paid for our passes and had our picnic which was excellent as expected. We wandered to Russell Falls and watched Sybille exclaim about the ferns. Then we drove for about half an hour up a single lane, two way unsealed track to Lake Dobson. At the top of a mountain lake Dobson provides a fun walk of an hour or so. It was very stimulating- mainly because of the rapidly dropping temperature. On the way back down the hill we did the tall trees walk which did what it said on the tin.
A long drive later we were back in Huonville. The drive back to H was fantastic. We saw the smoke from the controlled bushfires lingering in the air as the sunset in the background. As usual rural Tassie was stunning. Back in H we tried to go for dinner so as to avoid getting home in time to feed the horses. In the end we had to go to Legs and Breasts and sit in the car to eat it. We then went for a drink and saw the bar menu at the pub, we’d been in a little while before but only seen the expensive menu. Dammit we thought, Legs and Breasts in a rental car when we could have had a steak sandwich for the same price. Nevermind, console yourself with a drink we all thought.
Arriving home at 9pm we had a slice of the cheesecake that Conny took 2 weeks to cook. We listened to her talk about what she had been doing and to her making an attempt to disparage our choices. It didn’t matter to us we were leaving in the morning. Unfortunately Conny decided to help herself to a lift with us. I told her to be ready at 7.45 so she came out a 8am meaning I had to floor it back to Hobart. Before we dropped her off she helpfully backseat drove and told us that if they charged us for being late she would pay the money through a complicated system of phone calls and envelope drops. Bugger it we thought. We’d pay to get out of here now.
Horse rides (the few that happened)
1) We went for a ride at 9pm in the pitch blackness, once the full moon rose it was quite romantic in a weird sort of way. In a more tangible way it was scary for a beginner like me to be on a horse in the dark. Oh well.
2) K and I went on the ride with some other people but we had to walk. Conny constantly corrected the way I walked with the horse and gave instructions that directly countermanded others she had given previously. As she seemed oblivious of this I guess it must never have happened. The walk was nice if a bit steep but it would have been nicer to go on a walk alone with K. Of course, we never had the time.
3) K rode patchy and I rode Keanu- Conny led Keanu. This ride was the single most disappointing experience of Tasmania. The ride itself was the best ride I have ever been on by far. The disappointing and saddening thing was that it only took two hours. If we’d have had that a bit more often than once then it would have made up for a lot of the bad stuff. The scenery was amazing and Keanu picked his way across a stream, up hills and down dales, across tracks and through forests. Absolutely brilliant. But it never happened again.
4) K went for a ride with Conny. K was on Shaula and Conny was on Ghandi. I stayed at home. This was a good if short ride, get Conny on a horse and it normally improves her mood 1000%.
5) K went with customers and Conny. I stayed at home. It was a 2 hour ride with gorgeous weather and more excellent views of the valley. The climbed higher than on previous rides and had some home baked apricot muffins overlooking the valley floor. All in all it sounded great.
6) Thats it! Not one more ride. In three weeks and 4 days. Crap crap crap.
Gueta was the saving grace of Tasmania. Distinguished, amiable, possessing a dog called Mr Monty Noodle a waterfront house and a well stocked wine rack she helped us to recover. More on her when the van is not at risk of being towed away.
xx
We dropped the rental car off in Hobart with seconds to spare thanks to Conny`s spectacular organisation that left us 30 minutes behind schedule. Basically if something could be done frantically then that was ideal. Great.
Anyway, we dropped off the car and I cleverly deduced that a car rental agency would be the type of place that might have an A-Z and a photocopier- minutes later we had a map. Jason Bourne would be proud.
We walked along the road past the very nicely manicured park and along to the bus stop. Coincidentally there was a cafe next door so we took advantage of this fortuitous turn of events with a sandwich and a coffee. Seeing our shell shocked state the owner enquired whether we were having a nice holiday. We explained that we had been WWOOFing and she shuddered and told us about her time on a farm in France in “isolation”. We all agreed that WWOOFing hosts were liable to take the piss and then relaxed in the knowledge that those days were behind us.
We took the number something or other bus down past the casino and into the waterfront district where Gueta lives. Having missed our stop the driver slammed on the brakes and let us out as we noticed the street sign flash past at 50kmh. Luckily we caught Gueta just as she was leaving the house. She let us in and explained she was off to a protest against battery hens. She sounds so English that we felt less homesick just listening to her. Her house was lovely- all open plan with timber staircases, large dining room/kitchen, deck that looked out over the ocean, garden on three levels etc. etc. She showed us our very comfortable room complete with electric blanket and the softest looking double bed in the world. We had our own bathroom and toilet. We even had our own little sitting room with cable tv and a video. We loved her already. We loved her slightly less when she immediately issued orders and left.
In the time she was out we hung washing out, cut the grass, figured out how to start the petrol driven beast that cut the grass, tried to clean out the gutters, washed up and generally tried to look keen and useful. In a bizarre twist Gueta was the one exploited by her last WWOOFers- they stayed a long time, ate a lot of food and did next to no work. We were determined to restore her faith. When Gueta returned it was off to the massive house across the road where Stinky the dog waited folornly next to the indoor swimming pool in the hope someone would walk him. We took him round the block and down the steps to the beach. We saw a few beachfront houses which looked like the one out of the Fresh Prince of Bel Air and reflected quietly at how fortunate we were to have escaped into a house with such a well stocked wine rack.
That evening I cooked dinner using a nice curry sauce provided by Gueta. She is the ideal dinner party guest, making appreciative noises though it probably tasted awful. For us it was heaven- it had meat in it. Finally some animal flesh to get our teeth into. Some innocent animal raised only for the masticular (is that a word?) pleasure of humans. It was perfect.
After dinner Gueta went off to her floor of the house, very kindly leaving us a rather good bottle of wine, still three quarters full. After having survived on cask wine for weeks it was a heady sensation to savour a glass of wine from a real glass bottle. Oz is bloody expensive for alcohol anyway- ten pounds at least for a half decent bottle so it was particularly kind of her to give it to us. The wine was good, the cable even better and it was with significantly lighter hearts that we went to bed that night.
The next day was spent rather enjoyably not doing much. Geuta had decided that she wanted an irrigation system for her garden- just a simple drip hose set up and so we went shopping for the hoses. I had also dismantled the extractor fan from her bathroom and pronounced it buggered so we toured round fan shops too. It was exciting to be in the big smoke after so long with noone but horses for company.
As the morning wore on we decided to go to the Officers Mess for lunch. As we have mentioned (maybe) Gueta`s husband was commander of the barracks in Hobart and so she could go there whenever she liked. We imagined some sort of spartan dining hall but it was actually a very nicely furnished, and fairly small dining room where the food was subsidised and almost of restaurant standard. We had a coke each and Gueta had a brandy- we liked her even more for that.
The rest of the afternoon was to be dedicated to work but serendipitously Micheal found us at home before the real work could begin. K and I had been taking Mr Monty Noodle (Gueta`s pedigree Bichon Frise) and old Stinky for a walk round the park. Stinky is a bit lazy and it was amusing to try to coax more than a swift trot out of him. Anyway we arrived home to find Micheal and Gueta at the rather nice dining room table. Micheal is quite a character- suffice to say he is engaging in conversation and is also partial to visiting Gueta`s drinks cabinet whenever the opportunity arises. Fending him off with tea at first Gueta soon surrendered to the inevitable and opened a bottle of wine. Cutting up some cheese and providing some crackers she, and we, settled in for a couple of hours chatting politely, eating cheese and biscuits, sipping delicately at Chardonnay, occasionally glancing out over the water and frequently giggling to ourselves quietly that just days prior to this we had been hauling water and chaining up goats.
After Micheal had finished chatting to us and partaking in our delicious french onion dip that we picked up at the shop in anticipation of Gueta`s next offering from the bread maker he ambled off and we made dinner. Baked marrow with the rest of the curry which was a strange combo but tasty enough. Once din dins was dispensed with Gueta went upstairs and K and I watched Ferris Buellers day off on video. We attempted to watch The Fountainhead on video but it was hard going.
The next day was Friday. Gueta was due to go out in the evening so we knew we would be home and looking after Monty. We had bought some posh sausages the day before from the butcher as we didnt want Gueta paying for all our food (she bought us lunch on the first day too) as well as keeping us in Chardonnay and electric blankets. I fixed the shower in the morning (read: tightened the head et voila!) then we set up the irrigation system and found out that we had underestimated the size of the garden by 45 metres (hey, mistakes happen). We went to the shop to buy more hoses and had dinner again at the Officers Mess. K had lamb and I had steak. A nice change from the fresh fish of the previous day. We were lording it. They even have a pot of coffee and an assortment of biscuits for you to enjoy afterwards. And they use saucers. Fine folk indeed. We tried to appear inconspicuous in our Primark rags.
Back home again we did some more work messing about with the damnable irrigation system which was turning out to be a pain in the proverbial. Nearer the end of the day we stopped work and went inside to freshen up. Gueta disappeared off out and I spent some time trying to find some Eurostar tickets online for her while simultaneously turning the sausages to charcoal under the grill. Kirsty tried to keep a distressed Monty Noodle happy while I wandered around feeling the effects of the wine Gueta had once again generously provided. We opened the windows up and enjoyed one of those dinners that while simple, had used up almost a neighbourhood worth of pots and pans, resulted in a near blaze and in the end, didnt actually taste much better than what I used to buy at school for 1 pound fifty. We watched a bit of Bill Bryson`s DVD which FYI was nowhere near as good as his books. Never mind we thought and went to watch cable.
The next morning was our last day and we had to finish our irrigation before leaving at one. Kirsty did some quick jobs round the house (dusting, photo sorting) while I turned one of the flower beds and in the process swapped backs with an eighty year old man. We had a nice chinesey lunch that Gueta helped oversee the preparation of. She BBQ`d some kebabs that we had bought and did her side of things very well. My side (the stirfry) was slightly soggy but we all gamely struggled on through. Gueta offered us a glass of red and the sun was over the yard arm so we succumbed.
Micheal showed up promptly as the dinner hit the table. He told me he`d consider it a “great favour” if I helped his friend and him move a sideboard from the cupboard under the house. Back in the house we said our preliminary goodbyes to Gueta and Monty Noodle, secretly hoping that the garage posts we painted that morning would stop bloody dripping everywhere. We all piled into the car and Gueta dropped us at the Casino where the airport bus was waiting to whisk us to Hobart International and from there, to Melbourne.
Arriving in Melbourne that eve we proceeded directly to The Ritz for Backpackers. Not before we nabbed the discount leaflets at the airport shuttle terminal though. Whats that? Half price river cruise- go on then.
Once at the Ritz we took advantage of the rip off day ticket we had been forced to buy for the tram (before the end of our time in Melbourne we would realise that the 7 11s is where you should buy tickets and they are about half the friigin price. Cheers, Rough Guide). And went back into the city centre. Once there we decided to try out Puay Lim`s theory of cheap eating. Find China Town or Little India. Tuck in. Part with about 5 quid max. And it worked! We went to a place where we were the only white diners and the food was excellent. Dumplings nearly as good as in Beijing daaahling as Kirsty remarked. Shame the waitress didnt know what the hell we were on about bready dumplings or pasta dumplings. The kind owner explained we meant pork buns when we said bready ones, hence saving us from the fate of embarrassing ourselves at every chinese restaurant we would visit in the future.
After that we walked across the corridor to the Japanese pancake place and had a giant sweet pancake to share. Oh yeah. It was good. And cheap. If there is a china town near you then go there immediately and enjoy two courses and rice for 5 quid, bargain.
Feeling full we went home to sleep but didnt realise that there would be a drum and bass party next door that wouldnt stop till 3am. We briefly considered going for a drink there but realised that we didnt own clothes that would get us past the doormen. Thats right, despite there being no actual dress code our threads were so skanky that we would have been thrown out of the Penny Whistle, let alone this place.
At 3am we drifted off.
Annoyingly we slept in the next morning and missed the free pancakes, we were more pissed off by this than you can imagine. We took the tram into the city and went to the Queen Victoria markets in search of jeans and a sharper image than is favoured by the hobos we resembled. As we wandered around the market with large signs saying “take the piss out of me on price” written on our foreheads we came to realise that shopping for cheap jeans would not be as easy as we first thought. One lady notably said, “all jeans 70 dollars”. “What about the ones there for 35?” we asked. “They no good” she replied quick as a fox “dont fit well...too cheap”. Thanks a bunch.
We wandered despondantly around Big W and other crapholes finding jeans that fit poorly and that we were becoming increasingly hungry even though we had eaten again at China Town before beginning to shop. Again we visited some slum of a restaurant where the food was a dream and the prices low low low!!!!!
Anyway, to cut a crap story short we got some jeans at Target, took the tram home, went to a bar called La Roche for a massive schnitzel for dinner and then tumbled into bed about midnight praying that the “music” didnt start up again. One good thing before bed- I checked our bank account and found we made 80 quid in interest. Bonza mate!
Monday- we started the day with a breakfast of pancakes fortified with chocolate chips and banana. Amusing anecdotes were told especially the one by a poor girl on her way to a crap door to door sales job who got “pulled over” by the police for running a red light on her pushbike. Her fine? 220 dollars (110 quid)!
We went to town on the tram and then we went our separate ways (for 2 hours). Of course before that we had to ring the obliging folks at Barclays who kindly unblocked our cards and made them ATM ready again in no time. Then K went off clothes shopping and I went to the Game On exhibition. My fake ISIC card got me discounted entry: Game On tracks the development of videogames from the first computer game to arcade-era hits and the very latest from today`s billion dollar industry. With over 125 playable games as well as rarely-seen consoles, controllers and collectables, this is a showcase of game history like no other
I think youll agree Frogger on a 10 foot tall screen is well worth a 5 quid entry fee. Jac and Mum please go to here: to play the hitchhikers guide to the galaxy RPG- you will find it amusing I`m sure (have you both read it- I assume so). After enjoying wandering around like a lonely nerd for an hour or so I began to miss Kirsty in the pathetic way you do after spending every waking moment for 7 months with them. Plus it was time for us to meet up. And I didnt dare be late.
Upstairs in the foyer she was proudly toting her purchases (she insists that I note that she bought two tops for 2.50 pounds each and so spent no more than I did on computer geekery). We admired them as we walked to the river to put our names down for the river cruise. Having put our names on the list we had time to have some salmonella inducing BBQ chicken from a Japanese concession stand and a very fine (as usual) Subway. The cruise went up the river to the most industrial sections of the city and we regretted not going on the cruise that passes the parks and gardens but that would have involved waiting another half an hour. Anyway the cruise was still enjoyable and we made the most of the free tea and coffee by having two cups of each apeice. Pathetic but somehow made us feel like we were getting a bit more for our BOGOF ticket.
That evening we went to Neighbours Night at the Elephant and Wheelbarrow. The pub was ridiculously expensive but they make you sit down in a group for a quiz and then make sure it doesnt start for 2 hours. What is there to do but drink? 5 pints for me and 4 halfs for Kirsty later Karl Kennedy, Michelle Scully (on her way to a comeback!), Dylan and Steve Parker made it in to the building and fielded some questions. After the fun and games it was time for the quiz. We dont remember that much of it as we were rather inebriated, gaining a semi concious state only when Karl Kennedy`s band started to play. This semi conciousness was short lived and we set about the business of spending over 100 pounds on drinks accidentally on purpose and then falling into bed about midnight not quite sure why we were full of a deep foreboding. Then the alarm went off at 5am and we remembered why we were sure doom was upon us. We had to get up in the dark, get the tram and start our next tour. We did console ourselves by coming second in the quiz though. And having pictures of us with Karl Kennedy. You cant put a price on that.
Waking up at 5am would have been impossible if not for Kirsty. Handily she is endowed with more brain cells than I am and refused the 7th 8th 9th and 10th pint of lager that somehow slipped beneath the radar in my case. She got us onto the tram, off the tram and round to the hostel where the Oz Experience bus was due to pick us up. For my part I organised a McDonalds breakfast for myself and when this induced no appreciable change I organised a bacon and egg roll. Which had rocket in it. Bloody gastrocafes. I then fell asleep on my suitcase and Kirsty patiently explained to people that I was mentally impaired and she made good money from the home taking me out.
Frat arrived- breathtakingly casual, handing out cool nicknames like Big Dick (to Richard) and Jaime (to me). Cheers.
We set off and the first port of call was breakfast (my third, Kirsty`s first). One enjoyable beans on toast later we were off to Wilsons Promintory and an hours walk in a cold sweat. At the top we had views of squeaky beach and much other appealing scenery ignored in favour of the delicious rolls we picked up at breakfast. After oohing and aaahing about the scenery we marched back to the bus and drove for bloody ages right up until we got to Lakes Entrance in the early evening and enjoyed the fish and chip supper courtesy of Adventure Tours.
As usual the fish was shark. As usual it was lovely. We passed on the visit to the bottle shop and made our way to the YHA. We watched TV in the common room and walked three times to the payphone to organise Sydney accommodation. Then, in what can only be described as a horrible moment we went our separate ways, to the single sex dormitories to spend our first night apart in nearly 7 months. Kirsty bravely struggled through preferring to show no pain and apparently enjoyed some type of Grease style slumber party in the girls dorm while I sat in silence in the boys dorm and then sobbed myself to sleep. Honest.
More about this tour when the damn timer is not running out on the computer. We have no more gold coins for crying out loud.
The next morning we rose bright and early to the usual Oz Experience breakfast of toast and cereal. Now that we are backpackers, a culinary class lower than the average uni student we are simply grateful to have the choice of both peanut butter and jam on our bread. Never fails to impress us.
It was just after sunrise so we went to look at 90 Mile Beach which is exactly what its says and in being 90 miles long wins the prize for Australia`s longest beach- Oz is all about the superlatives that noone cares about by the way. It was a nice sunrise and the clouds hanging about diffused the rays of the sun quite nicely so hopefully you`ll see that pic hanging in our bog when we finally buy a house.
We drove along the Barry Way which Frat was very excited about. The Barry Way is a pleasant climb into the Australian Alps, made more pleasant by being done in a bus rather than on foot. Once at the top of the Way we hiked 10km to a glacial lake (Blue Lake)- the breeze off the surface of it reminds you that yes, it was formed by a mass of frozen water and no, it hasnt really changed temperature much since then. The walk itself was nice, a well laid path undulating not so gently up the side of the mountains/hills. At the lake we took a group photo and tried to do the jumping in the air at the time the shutter clicks thing which worked to varying degrees.
We were relieved to get back to the bus and on our way to the hotel/motel thing we were staying in at Lake Jyndabyne where not for the first time K and I had a double bed in a room with 4 other bunkbeds. Nice in a private room unless you look to the side and see 4 near strangers sort of a way. Actually, 6 strangers. They were quite good about it though and there were no disagreements about how to divide the 5 complimentary tea bags between 8 people though being the only man in the room I did have to resort to serious covert tactics to be able to take a shower.
We BBQ`d our own steaks that night and drank terrible wine. Jayne sat with us and kept up a steady stream of anecdotes about her nan. One of the blokes had a birthday cake brought out and another Oz Experience driver asked me if I would prefer to be a rabbit of a fox which K and I wondered thought might be a covert way of asking me if I was postman or postbox and so we found ourselves urgently needed somewhere away from the strange man asking us such exotic questions.
After a few glasses of wine we went back to the room, dragging Ruth with us and then had I had to dissuade K and Ruth from turning on the TV, we`d all been spoilt earlier by finding Friends on the telly while we were getting ready and giddy on wine as they were, they became convinced that all the best American re-runs must have been on, right then. Sadly not and we all settled down to sleep ready for the final day.
It was a great morning. There was a free cooked breakfast on offer and contrary to all expectations it wasnt absolute crap. Feeling bloated we boarded the bus. We passed by a hydro electric damn at some point but noone cared. Eventually we got to Canberra, the official capital of both the country and also of boredom if popular opinion of the place is to be trusted. On the other hand, you cant go wrong with a special panini from the Chinese Cafe so its got our vote. We visited Parliament House where we were advised not to make "smartass" remarks while going through security. The parliament building is impressive to say the least. More open and relaxed than most parliament buildings you can walk onto the roof from the outside, apparently a symbolic thing to show that the politicians are not above the people as the people can literally walk above their heads. Its also for this reason that Parliament House is not built onto the top of the hill, its on the same level as the peoples houses. Also, when the doors are opened the Prime Minister can see in a straight, clear line to the Australian War Memorial commemorating all Australians who have fought and sacrificied their lives over the decades. This too, keeps him grounded.
The only bit of parliament house that we found strange was the inclusion of aboriginal art and symbols. White "fella" came here, shot most of them, raped the rest- their descendants have become nothing more than homeless alcoholics for the most part and white fella rules over them. On the upside though, they get to hang a few paintings in Parliament House. Bit like being able to choose the colour of the hangmans noose in some peoples opinion but there you are.
We visited the war memorial after that which was humbling as most memorials are. Personally, we liked the parliament house and the memorial. For once, Oz seemed to have improved on tradition rather than just sticking with it.
Another 4 hours of driving later we were in Sydney and ready to check into our new hostel for the night. We followed the age old advice- want cheap food? Head to Chinatown. Want cheap accommodation? Head for the red light district. I kid you not. The room was so small you couldnt open the suitcases and the door at the same time (really, not joking) and the shower was even smaller- you could not turn around in it with your hands by your sides without touching a wall. I know I am not the smallest guy around but that takes the mickey. Anyway, there were free drinks vouchers for the Gaff, a local student/backpacker club with what turned out to be a little touch of class- a shock to say the least. The free meal was good though only provided once we bought a relatively expensive drink. The free drinks started at 9.30pm and stopped an hour later. In the end, it worked out as being a reasonably priced evening and it made us wonder why they didnt just price things fairly in the first place but I suppose they know what they are doing. The house wine didnt exactly cost a bomb I`d say.
Luisa and Caroline showed us how to do the Gecko dance and Richard showed us his penis and took a photo of it. Unfortunately for him he is ginger, and he is 30. He tried so desperately to be cool but as he had a northern accent, took drugs that were seemingly cut with idiot powder and was generally a bit of a git the old ginger pubes in the face trick didnt work and his downfall was complete.
We woke up at Chilli Blue, the cramped red light district hostel chosen purely for its cheap price...After a nourishing breakfast of bugger all we wandered off to find the train station. We went to meet Gemma, one of the girl`s we had met on a previous Oz Experience tour (the Alice to Adelaide bit). Cleverly enough thanks to some dodgy 2am Facebook posting it all went a bit weird but Gemma has evidently had friends who are a bit special before. She was there, waiting for us by the Queen Victoria building. It was a rainy day so it didnt seem much like Oz to us, more like a rather poor copy of London. We soldiered on and while K and G talked endlessly we all ordered lunch.
After lunch we took Gemma on what must have been the worst day out of her life- a tramp up and down the streets of Sydney to look for train tickets and plane tickets to Wayne`s house. Wayne lives in Surfers Paradise on the East Coast. It wasnt until he told us we`d have to build Surfer`s a station if we wanted to catch the train that we realised that we would have to fly and that we had 48 hours to book a flight on the busiest weekend of the year (ANZAC day). Excellent. To cut a long story short we booked a train that took 13 hours and involved a coach for 3 hours. It takes 2 hours on a plane. Still, money saving and all that had to come first. Moving on from that nightmare...
Gemma and K went for coffee while I sat on the net getting increasing hacked off with the prices I was discovering. Kirsty left the camera at the cafe and only noticed when asking me to get the camera out of my pocket for her. The staff at the cafe must have taken pity on our cheap looking tracksuits and had put the camera behind the counter. Another disaster narrowly avoided. As you can tell, it was a scintillating day.
Having dropped Gemma off at her place we went back on the train and then met Paula. We first met Paula on our China tour. She is Intrepidding her way around the world. We went for a cheap Mexican which was overpriced for the crap they sold. Kirsty loved it though. We headed off to a bar- a difficult decision in the sex zone of Sydney. We settled for somewhere that looked reasonably above board. We chatted about how much we`d all seen and done since leaving England. We had a couple of drinks and then Paula had to go- she was getting up early for a tour. We headed back to the delightful Harry Potter cupboard under the stairs we were calling home and realised we had the wrong lock code. Several minutes of frenzied tapping on the door later we were in. Huzzah.
Kaye and Errol live in Wangi Wangi (Aboriginal for the title above). Having known us for at least 10 minutes on the China tour they invited us to stay with them if we passed through their little town. Lucky for us that they did. Kaye is a retired teacher and (I think) that Errol deals with Industrial Relations- something along the lines of negotiating between unions and the management. Or something. Sorry Errol but you really are known for other things in our eyes- excellent BBQ`ing skills, being a match for Spielberg and having a lovely cave and a generous heart to go with it!
Kaye is very much the retired schoolteacher which makes her a lot of fun to be around- especially if you get out of line or, for instance, tread kangaroo poo into the carpet like Kirsty did. Kaye is definitely a professional at the look. Of course, you may be getting the wrong idea about Kaye. We keep referring to her as retired when that really only applies to teaching. She is the busiest retiree we have met. Up at the crack of dawn. Actually we are not sure what time she gets up- every morning we appeared at around 8am and breakfast would be set out on the table while Kaye relaxed with a jigsaw and gave the impression of having been up since last year.
She often described painting the deck (they have extensive decking, I wouldn`t want to paint it all), recovering cushions, hauling blocks that sort of light, retiree activity. Their house is basically custom built- massively extended from the original it sits above the lake (which by English standards is pretty much an Ocean- and, if I recall correctly may be fed by it). Its open plan and beautifully decorated. The deck must run 25 feet across and is so large that there are at least 3 sets of tables and chairs on it.
We stayed with Kaye and Errol for 4 days. Unfortunately they did get mixed up with the station they were supposed to pick us up from so we had to wait around for a bit ;-) but we didnt mind. As usual with visits of more than 24 hours this report might be a little bit vague with timings and we may have forgotton the names of places but its still a decent enough indication.
First day- we arrived and had some cakes. We had morning tea every day and this was our first taste of it. Kaye is excellent at baking so there were never less than 4 different choices of homemade cake and so we never really had less than four pieces every day. After the cake on the first day we went to see the Kangaroos that live at the mental hospital around the corner. To add to the occasion there was a patient wandering around asking for a place to stay that night. We kept our bread for the roos though. It was quite sweet to see though another man there insisted on giving us a masterclass on roo skills. We all hoped and prayed that a kangaroo would spontaneously box him in the head but it wasnt to be.
We got nice and close to the little roos (some were just 6 feet tall!) and Kirsty enjoyed feeding them.
Later on that day we had dinner. As per usual Kaye made sure dinner was an understated affair with just 4 (possibly 5) homemade salads, meat and bread. Errol BBQ`d the meat and won himself our immediate approval. Not that you didnt have it already of course E! After dinner we watched The Bill and K and E fell asleep. We wondered how Ruby from Eastenders is supposed to be old enough to be a coppah and whether she wears those bucket stilts we had in nursery to make her tall enough to appear over 15.
The next day was a Sunday and so Errol was not at work. We drove to Port Stevens (Stephens?) and had lunch at a lighthouse after having looked at some of K and E`s old houses on the way. Its nice when people show you their own little history in a place rather than just new sights. Its also nice when lunch rolls around. The lighthouse cafe was a pleasant affair with great views as lighthouses are wont to have, being as they are generally perched on cliffs.
After that we walked along the harbourfront and it only rained some of the time! After that we went to a cheese tasting, shamelessly eating the free samples and then disappearing off to a fudge tasting place where we enjoyed freebies yet again. Before the fudge we had a coffee and that unnerving Aussie coffee shop thing where you have to wait 15 minutes for your order. Its not that hard folks!
One home again we had the rest of last nights dinner and watched some of the video Errol shot in China while Kaye, K and i mercilessly took the mickey out of his filming techniques. Poor guy.
Each morning Kaye goes for a 2 hour walk so on the Monday we went with her. She doesnt mess around and when we got back we were knackered. Morning tea soon perked us up and then we went into Newcastle. The best place in the world according to the Mclachlans (sp?). In Newky we had dinner by the beach, a rather delicious picnic affair and I regretted not letting kaye make my sandwich for me and her and Kirsty (who made her own) unwrapped delicate looking Ritz sandwiches in clingfilm wrappers that were perfectly even.
After that we went to Knobbies Point (or something like that) and walked along the Point. It was a nice view out to see and another chance for a stroll. We walked back via Newcastle Beach to see their retirement flat which they`ll move to eventually and we also saw the outdoor public swimming pool next to the beach and our envy of Aussies grew. We wandered along Hunter road, a now desolate shopping area and then would have climbed a tower but it was shut. We went back to the car and then I dragged everyone round the shops until I found a pair of tkd shoes.
We saw the Kiterunner in the evening at a tiny cinema. The KR is quite a thought provoking film though it doesnt exactly have you laughing much. The spag bol and glass of wine when we got back was more reviving.
The next day we went for our walk in the battering rain and then pretty much spent the day on the internet trying to organise Fiji. That night was trivia night. It was also schnitzel night at the pub so we were on to a good thing. We knew Kaye and Errols team had been runners up in the quiz the week before with Paula. However, we also knew that pub quizzes are what we do. 3 hours later 1st place was ours. Having contributed knowledge like the ability to recognise the theme tune to ER in just 4 seconds and also to recognise the dialogue from Austin Powers our crappy general knowledge was enough to supplement the teams knowledge of things that actually matter.
The wine was flowing and later that night we had fun playing with the breathalyser machines- it lit up red whenever Kirsty even glanced at it and nearly exploded when she breathed into it.
Kaye who is a teetotaller made sure everyone got home ok and to her credit, is the first teetotaller we`ve met who is not a bit condescending towards drunk people. A rare thing in our experience.
On our last day we weent for another morning walk around the neighbourhood and then went into Toronto to do some shopping for the dinner I would cook that evening and also to get some picnic supplies for our 13 hour journey to Wayne`s which would happen the next day. While we were in Toronto Kaye bought some trainers and I left Errols umbrella at a shop for him to find several days later. After our little outing we had lunch and her neighbours came round with some books for me to read and some Fiji information for us both. (Books are still to be read, sorry but NZ provides entertainment enough so far!).
In the evening I cooked dinner which turned into the sort of laborious affair that dinner always does when you try to cook for other people. The tension was somewhat eased by yet another good bottle of red. We limited ourselves to just 4 different desserts despite 6 being offered and settled in to see the rest of the china video.
Once that was over we spent our final night in the worlds highest bed. A good 4 feet off the floor (it seemed), it was possible to sink into it and the electric blankets and not even stir till the morning.
On our last day we said goodbye to Errol, fat Albert (their dog) and finally Kaye as she dropped us in the pouring rain at the train station and waited with us- obviously still feeling bad from the start of our stay when she and Errol so badly mixed up the arrangements.
And that was that! Thanks again to K and E we had a great time and hope we can come again one day or, even better, that you make it to us first.
How do you like the new nickname matey?
We boarded the train at 9.15am and settled in for 10 hours. Unlike British trains Aussie ones are relatively comfortable. Noone tried to mug us. Or stab us with a syringe. It didnt break down (much) and we werent hemmed in with another couple of people facing us. The seats reclined, we had our picnic. Life was good. We read the entire Lonely Planet on Fiji, taking us from a 3 week itinerary to a 6 week one. Now curtailed to just 4 weeks in the interest of saving money.
Arriving in Surfers at 10pm we were collected by Wayne who was still in his badminton kit. Not be outdone in the cake stakes Wayne provided us with a chocolate slab and a cuppa despite it being 11.30pm and having done a hell of a lot of overtime that week. We chatted about this and that for a while until we surrendered and went to bed while Wayne watched Gordon Ramsey re-runs until 2am.
Friday- ANZAC day. It was an absolutely perfect day weather wise and we went on some bushwalks. Along with coffee and cake walking is a bloody obsession for Aussies. We went to two different waterfalls (Twin Falls was the second walk, cant remember the name of the first) and both were lovely. A lot of steps and climbs back to the top but lovely. We had dinner at a nice cafe which served Waynes burger complete with the steel ring the egg was cooked in. And then laughed when he complained. Good natured laughs but not ever so concerned laughs. Thats how it is in the sticks said Wayne. Kirsty spent her time scratching her mossie bites and shivering/avoiding birds outside.
We admired the cows with hats on the wall. See the pics for more details.
Later that day we went to the Best Ever Lookout. Which almost was. If it wasnt so arrogant about it. That night, Wayne took us to a nice thai restaurant to try his favourite red curried duck. Good recommendation. It wasnt even too expensive and Wayne supplied the wine. We then spent all night not going to sleep as we were so full and unused to nice food...it was worth it though.
Saturday- We went to Moreton Island. We got up at 5am to drive to Brisbane for the ferry. We helped out by sleeping for the whole journey. For Moreton Info see http://www.moreton-island.com - it was another absolutely perfect day weather wise- probably one of the best in all our travelling. We had a coffee at a beachside cafe and then went quad biking among the sand dunes- the photos with our hair nets on are particularly good I think you`ll find. This quad biking description is stolen- "
The Quad Bike guided tour is sheer excitment and fun for everyone. The Tangalooma Resort proffesional guides will take you on a basic training course to asses your skill levels. The tour caters for all ages 6 years and up and for all levels of ability. It is not a priority to have prior experience.
Once you have gained your confidence on the 4wheel A.T.V.(All Terrain Vehicle) we follow the sand tracks behind the resort and onto the bush sandhills. As well as the sheer thrill of the driving watch out for the native flora and fauna..eg. kookaburras, bandicoots, whistling kites and their nests and many other varieties of bird species.
When you reach the highest point you feel like you are on top of the world. The views across Moreton Bay are stunning, from the bands of blue in the crystal clear waters, across the shipping channel towards the Glasshouse Mountains and Brisbane." but gives you the gist of it.
After biking we had lunch which was pretty good. Then we went sandboarding. Before boarding we strolled up the beach and practically ran back 45 minutes later to make the transfer to the 4WD coach. I nearly got to play Wayne at table tennis but the gimp at the facilites hut was obviously on community service or something in between being hidden in a box in a cellar and so it wasnt to be.
Sandboarding was very fun though tiring to climb the dune each time. Kirsty did well but after techincal difficulties and ingesting 10 kg of sand she worked the camera. The sandboarding was over too quickly for everyone but there is another chance in Fiji to do it so look out for that report.
After boarding we had a delicious ice cold beer. Yum yum. K had a coke which is good financially that one of us doesnt fritter away the budget. Coke`s expensive.
We got the ferry back to the mainland and picked up a Subway on the way home for dinner. We watched the lighthearted Apocalypto that evening and Wayne shared his Corona around.
Sunday- we had a lie in until 10.30 and then hopped in the car to see a rugby game. As per usual in times like this the bloody battery was flat and dark looks passed amongst us as we all privately thought one of the others had left their door ajar the night before and the interior light had drained it. The breakdown bloke arrived just in time and we made it to the car park literally just in time for the last transfer bus. The game was quite an experience. It was played at the new stadium, home of the Jet Star Titans. The stadium is called Skilled Park and they were playing the New Zealand Warriors. Its a bizarre experience because they have cheerleaders and a lot of sponsorship. The voiceover is like the bloke who does the trailers for films which works well for announcing who has just scored but not so well when he says things like "its halftime, why not enjoy a hot pie from Johnos. Joooohnos, making your day...and your pie" or some such crap. He definitely quoted one company who, aswell as sponsoring the announcements promised to keep our bathrooms fresh and clean. Weird.
We had subway for a snack on the way home and then went shopping for tomorrows picnic as we would be on the train again for 15 hours this time. We stopped at Nathan`s, Wayne`s godsons place and enjoyed watching a demonstration of martial arts and weapons training katas which make that little boy practically a lethal weapon. After that we went to the glow worms. After a 15 minute walk we came to a massive cave where we marvelled at the immense number of brightly glowing little creatures and listened to the waterfall thunder through the cave just 20 feet away and yet invisible as the darkness in the cave is so complete. We were lucky- on our way down a load of tourists passed us going back up, and on our way back up we saw about 80 tourists pull up in a van. The glow worms here are 50 quid to do a tour and what Wayne showed us was free. Top marks for that!
Once back at home Wayne cooked chicken satay. He used a jar of sauce but he is a food technician or something so it was a jar of sauce he personally created the recipe for so it wasnt really cheating. And it was damn good. We watched a bit of telly, went to bed and then the next morning Wayne dropped us at the train station.
Thanks for a great weekend!
We piled off the train at 10.30pm and stayed at the Mountbatten Hotel, a rambling sort of dive which we found through a combo of rule number one and two. As you will recall no. 1 says Chinatown is cheap eats and no. 2 says hookersville is cheap sleeps (no pun intended), however the real prize is accommodation in chinatown. Somewhat less filled with working girls than the previous location we dont really know why chinatown accommodation is so cheap but it is. So there.
We collected the keys from the dive next door, went out for a stomach churning kebab, surfed the net until midnight and went to bed.
The next day we were outside Oz Experience at 7am to check in. For once we stayed somewhere cheap and close to our departure so we congratulated ourselves on that. We had some raisin toast from the Wakeup hostel (the closest we ever came to staying there) and then boarded our bus and met Jimmy the driver. Thank god he was a good enough guy, he`d done the tour about a billion times and was really chilled out about everything, even the 90 minute gridlock we hit on the way out of the city.
For the next bit of the blog Oz Experience copy is in italic.
We head out of Sydney past the Sydney Olympic site to our first stop where we view wild Eastern Grey Kangaroos in native bush habitat. These `roos are pretty big and you can get up close and personal. We enjoyed what could be our final time seeing roos. We saw a little Joey out of the pouch but still small enough to be hanging around with Mum. We saw a load of Cockatoos (sp) in a tree, backlit by fierce sunlight that made this day great. The birds were bright white with yellow markings on their heads (cant think of the ornithological term for the bit on their heads). Lunch was after this, or rather morning snack time.
We do a 2-3 hour loop walk near Wentworth Falls to see this waterfall, lookout points and surround. You will walk through changing vegetation, hanging swamps, and under rock ledges giving you an overview of the dramatic Blue Mountains environment. This description goes over the top a bit- the walk was about an hour and the scenery, though lovely was not anything we hadnt seen before. It was fairly spectacular really- in K`s opinion especially. I suppose the lookouts were great, big swooping vistas of towering red/brown mountain valleys filled with waterfalls and lots of big forests. Its probably the Indiana Jones style description from Oz Experience that makes me so cynical.
Lunch is included - you`ll eat a nutritious lunch, everything from fruit, sandwiches, salads & more. This is true- they were all included, along with cereal bars. Very nice! We ate outside overlooking the Blue Mountains so named because the eucalyptus leaves emit an oil that makes a blue haze from a distance. It was a lovely lunch and I will stop being miserable about it- we had a great time and Jimmy had a good chat with us.
After lunch, we walk down the historic Furber Stairs into Jamison Valley through lush rainforest, past picturesque Katoomba Falls and view the incredible 3 Sisters rock formations.
Down the Furber Stairs was interesting along with the chance to see a funnel webs daytime hideout. The FW is the most poisonous spider in the world. We had a clear view of the three sisters and Jimmy told us the Aboriginal story about their formation which eschews common geological knowledge in favour of a fairytale fantasy. It is a damn site more interesting than your standard scientific explanation though. Katoomba falls was undeniably picturesque and we took many a picture as you will see on Snapfish.
From the bottom of the Jamison Valley, board the Scenic Railway (fare included), the steepest railway in the world and ride up to the valley rim.
The Scenic Railway was more like a bloody rollercoaster and made for an exciting end to the tour. The Furber steps were an easy walk too even though Jimmy had told us it`d take 4 hours we later realised he was just teasing the poms. As per usual the tour/railway mysteriously finished in a gift shop and we browsed in earnest.
The coach ride home to Sydney was a strange affair. Our last Oz Experience bus. Ever (probably). After 4 months on them we were glad but would miss them in a strange sort of way. We have met some really nice people on them and our tour of Australia would not have been the same without them.
That night we ate in Chinatown as per rule 1. 3 different curries, rice, soup and a glass of water for 3 pounds fifty. Rule 1 rocks.
After that we went out for a last drink as in the morning we would fly to New Zealand. We enjoyed some vending machine M&M`s (our version of a spending spree) and wondered if a van would be a nightmare or a dream come true for 2 months.
Sneak peak- its awesome. Check out the pics of NZ on Snapfish to instantly become even more jealous.
Coming soon, goodbye Aussies, hello Kiwis!
On leaving australia there was one more drama to put up with. The friendly soul at the passport checking bit made us stand to one side and then sit on the naughty seats, observed by hundreds of CCTV cameras. A customs official with all the personality of a Dementor told us we`d overstayed our visas by a month. The punishment was being made to leave the country- good one, we were at the airport, with tickets for a flight that day. Whats the punishment? Taking the flight we were planning to...oh well thats probably ok with us- I suppose we deserve it. Ha.
Understandably upset we emailed STA travel where Rebecca the Manager told us to refer to the terms and conditions and basically though Jess the ex manager said she had sorted the VISAs out that it was up to us to double check everything that she had done.
Unfortunately Bex, whats the friggin point in using a travel agent if you then have to double check it all yourself? Also, please take off the last line of your email that states you have a BA in Leisure and Tourism. Who gives a monkeys? If your customer service skills involve referring people to the small print then you are wasting my time. BA or not.
On the upside the trio of mini pies in the airport cafeteria was delicious.
We touched down in New Zealand in the middle of the afternoon and straight into lovely rain. We had been baked for the last few days in Oz so it was quite a welcome relief to have a brief squall cool us down after the usual luggage carousel shenanigans that accompany any airport. I also got caught by a sniffer dog who stood on its hindlegs to inspect my rucksack. How cute we thought until it started to bark and we wondered whether this was when we would be interrogated and probed.
The crime turned out to be the storage of apples in said bag. I dont know whay the doges sniff out fruit byt they do. Slightly relieved that the dog seemed none the wiser to the 10kg of heroin in the heels of kirstys platform shoes we fled the airport right into the hands of the worlds most surly man- typical bloody aiport transfer man- permanently peed off having to deal with happy people on holiday or business jollies he balances out the yin of happiness with an almost enthusiastic level of despondency bordering on psychosis at times. There was many a raised eyebrow on the bus that day but we all grinned and bore it. We had no time to be hacked off by the pond life driving the bus. We were about to pick up a van. And sleep in it. Like tramps. But cooler.
We arrived in Christchurch ciry centre and set about finding the escape office. Christchurch centre is pleasant, low rise shops and offices along with a cathedral square make it very nice to wander about. In the square there is a giant chess set, the cathedral itself, the lines for the tram curve through one corner and there is normally a smattering of odd market stalls and food stalls- one of which served a nice of bratwurst.
We followed our map through a little mews and found the Escape office easily located by the campervan parked at a jaunty angle right out the front. We went in and spoke to the lady behind the counter who gave us a free solar shower and let us rent an unneccesary picnic table. My dreams of playing sega master system games at midnight in Mordor where shattered with the revelation that all the tvs had been rented out already. Having requested about 10 different vans we were given one we hadnt asked for- Wigger. Contrary to my first worry it wasnt what you and I might think of as a Wigger theme. Its actually got swirly patterns on one side and Maori motifs on the other. They are not self contained so you have to park at a campsite and plug in an extension cord if you want the heater or light to work at night. Still, its only 15 quid a day to rent it and Escape dont have ridiculous terms and conditions like a 7000 dollar bond that some companies charge. Not quite realising just how basic it might be I asked ifit would have a microwave and the lady behind the counter had a good laugh before showing us what the camper does contain. Not bloody much is the simple answer. A massive if thin foam mattress, some storage space. Multi coloured plastic cutlery and crockery for 2. Some fold down chairs thathave remained forever folded. Two double quilts, 3 pillows and a rather swish little cup holder up front. Also included is a single gas burner, a sink that was knackered from day one but made a decent impromptu toilet until a lack of head room and balance resulted in a situation that led to the sink being declared off limits.
The lady recommended Stoneridge for our first night in the van so we set off on an epic 0.3km drive to find it. SR is actually a hostel but with powered sites in the car park. Unfortunately it was a 100m walk from van to sheltered inside so the driving rain made walking it in pj`s a little more exciting than normal but it was nothing too bad.
That night we went to the supermarket and enjoyed browsing round for dinner tha night. We also went to The Warehouse, a ubiquitous New Zealand cross between Internationale, Wilkinson and Brierleys where "everyone gets a bargain". We bought a kettle (never used) and a blender (used once). But at the warehouse everything is so cheap it doesnt matter whether you use the stuff or not. We would return to The Warehouse more than 7 times in the next month and stock up on coats, boots, socks, gloves, presents for Kirsty`s birthday and umbrellas.
We enjoyed our first night in the van. If you were banking on it being freezing cold in a rock hard bed in a rickity old van you`d be mistaken. Admittedly the low roof is cozy but the massive queensize bed, the 2 double quilts and our two sleeping bags along with the contented hum of the fan heater made it a good nights sleep.
We spent 4 days in Christchurch in the end but they are not worth documenting in great detail as they mainly involved saying "god its freezing" and then buying more warm clothes from The Warehouse until one fateful day when we stood resplendent in the car park with jogging trousers, t-shirts, thick jumpers, hats, coats, gloves and hiking boots with two pairs of socks, warm for the first time in days each with a multicoloured golf umbrella to both twirl gaily and fend off potential muggers with.
The one thing we did whilst in Christchurch of any note was go to see the Timeball in Lyttleton. Here is more information than you need: "Visual signals were important features of any port, necessary for communication between ship and shore, in pre-radio times.
Daily from 1876-1934, the dropping of the Lyttelton timeball signalled Greenwich time to shipping in the harbour. This enabled navigators to check their chronometers and so calculate accurately their position of longitude once back at sea.
While Lyttelton`s timeball was one of many constructed as part of a vast Victorian network of time signals around the globe, it is one of few to have survived in working order and the only one still standing in New Zealand.
It is a rare piece of maritime history, fabulously restored and boasting spectacular views over Lyttelton Harbour."
It was a lovely drive through to Lyttleton and the friendly yet mysterious man who worked in the timeball tower was an added attraction. We saw the timeball drop and laughed at the neighbours dog who comes out bang on time to bark at the timeball dropping, and is only happy after the timeball remains motionless at the bottom of its pole for the next 24 hours.
We used our time in Christchurch to plan our route around the country- this was to be a better month than we could have foreseen.
After 4 days of planning New Zealand, making several near incomprehensible phone calls to Fiji to sort out accommodation and after having gotten used to the drumming sound of the rain on the roof we realised there was no way we would see the whole of the South Island without backtracking at some point so we might as well set off. We chose to drive to Arthurs Pass "Arthur’s Pass National Park is in the heart of the Southern Alps/Kā Tiritiri o te Moana. Its high mountains with large scree slopes, steep gorges and wide braided rivers, straddles the main divide – the ‘back bone’ of the South Island – between Canterbury and the West Coast.
It’s a park of contrasts, with dry beech/tawhai forest in the east, luxuriant rainforest on western slopes, and a historic highway and railway running through the middle. Arthur’s Pass was established in 1929 and was New Zealand’s third national park and the first one in the South Island. "
The principal attraction of Arthurs Pass is the Alpine scenery and the scenic drive to get there. Its one of only 2 or 3 passes across the Southern Alps, hence one of only 2 or 3 ways to actually get from coast to coast. After visiting The Warehouse for a last minute umbrella replacement we set off with the feeling of excitement that is common to all mornings where the sun is shining and you are leaving a place that, though pleasant in itself cannot compare (you hope) to somewhere like Arthurs Pass which is one of the most scenic spots in NZ.
It took about 5 hours to drive all the way there- we arrived after dark. The journey was stretched by at least an hour by the number of times we had to quickly pull over by the side of the road to see the Lookout- these are regulary occuring little gravel areas at the side of the road where you can pull in and admire the view, usually with a little information board that you might eagerly read for the first 20 lookouts and then disregard as a matter of principle for the rest. We drove along tiny windy roads where we averaged 40mph despite being the only van on the road. We saw valleys of rolling fields, strange hummocky paddocks full of sheep or horses where the ground rises and drops in smooth bumps as though the earth had big bubbles blown under it which then got covered in grass.
We enjoyed having to look both ways every 30mins as we crossed the Tranz Alpine railway crossings. Almost constantly the amazing views were backdropped by snow capped mountains. The views only got better as Arthurs Pass forces you to climb the road that zig zags up and then through the mountain range. At this point we had to engage the number 2 on our automatic transmission. We still dont know what "L" does but "2" is very useful on big hills.
We were a bit apprehensive about arriving after dark but it was inevitable and the sunsetting along the way did make it worthwhile. Arthurs Pass is not much more than a single street of houses, motels and cafes with a large DOC (department of conservation) office and some public toilets. All the main walks branch off this road so its the ideal base. We tried to check out some accommodation in town- one place with a helpful man who referred us to Jacksons where we eventually stayed, one place with an abandoned air and a phone/electronic entry system controlled by its owner from his living room in Christchurch, and one dump that wanted 35 dollars for us to sleep on the drive with no kitchen access.
Some time later we decided to brave the additional 30km of windy windy windyness and arrived at Jacksons via the viaduct which we saw in all its glory in the morning. Jacksons was and still is the best campsite in the world, ever. Covered pitches mean shelter from the wind, a ridculously friendly host/hostess who are lovely without being creepy, a huge living room/kitchen with several spotless cookers, all crockery and cutlery provided, reclining armchairs, a couple of sofas, a wood burning stove and sky tv. Plus heated bathrooms and power showers. Very nice. In case you are wondering why having a fully equipped kitchen is so important try a little experiment- lock your cutlery and crockery in the garden shed, at least 50m from the house. Now each time you eat take it out bit by bit in plastic bags. Try to make sure its a pretty cold night. Then lock the shed and walk to the kitchen trying to balance it. When arriving in the kitchen ensure you have forgotten at least one vital thing and have to repeat the whole exercise. For optimal frustration drop at least two things, and forget a minimum of 3, but only one at a time.
Anyway- we slobbed about watching Sky and being warm and happy.
The next day we did the Temple Basin Walk...its a climb up to where the ski field and ski lifts start once winter descends and basically involves a 2 hour climb up icicle encrusted steps up the switchback path to the top. One of the best parts of it is common to most NZ hikes- the lovely silence! It gives great views both further up to the snowy tops of the range and also back down to AP village and the viaduct. We thoroughly enjoyed passing over the viaduct in the morning, go to http://www.patbarrettimages.co.nz/proofs/arthurspasswestland.shtml and scroll nearly to the bottom to see pics...most impressive. At one point around the viaduct water falls, or would fall directly onto the road so there is a man made roof bit that lets you drive under and see the water cascade down into the basin directly to the side of you.
From the top of the Temple walk we enjoyed our tuna pasta lunch in a deserted ski hut which had a long abandoned air but by now (June) is probably full of skiers cooking crappy pasta and ignoring the smell of long drop toilets. We clumped on down the mountain, coats tied around our waists and tried not to slip on the wooden step reinforcements. We marvelled at the large paw marks in the snow and prayed ferverently that they belonged to the caretakers dog rather than some sort of demon wolf thing with a tuna pasta habit.
Safely ensconced in Jacksons that night we tried our best to see how low the cost of a meal can drop (self catered) before you would rather be punched in the face than eat another mouthful. For us its around the 2 quid mark and most things without meat unless they have the saving grace of being either a) deep fried or b) covered in melted cheese.
The next day at AP/Jacksons we did the Scotts Track walk "The track start (elevation 780 metres) is signposted on the main road opposite Devils Punchbowl Falls. Follow the track which zigzags through forest to the bush line (1300 metres), 1 hour 30 minutes from the road.
There are great views, looking north to Arthur’s Pass and Kelly Range, east to Mounts Cassidy and O’Malley, and south to Black Range. It is relatively sheltered here, and is an ideal place for lunch." This walk was quite fun though we were shattered from the previous days efforts. It climbed quite quickly and steeply up rocky steps for 90 minutes at which point we had great views but no idea where the bush line was so we had an apple and walked back down.
That was our last night at Jacksons which we spent talking to Judith and Allen who we forgot to call last week in Tauranga and so have missed out on Judith`s homemade soup which is a bugger because she looked like a soup wizard.
Damn.
Leaving Arthurs Pass at first light we drove through to Greymouth. Of course by first light we mean at 10am after a leisurely bowl of home made muesli and a bit of sky telly + a power shower. We drove along the scenic highway (officially Scenic, look for the brown markers) and arrived in Greymouth an hour or so later with the empty light flashing on the fuel gauge. We had a Subway (this has happened twice a week in NZ at least) and got some fuel then continued to Greigs beach on the way to Punakaiki and the Pancake Rocks. It was a sunny day and we were driving for ages right alongside the beach, a lonely stretch of soft sand and driftwood. We gave in and stopped at the picnic area and went down to the beach. As usual in NZ the solitude and the wonderful scenery made it possible to while away over an hour picking up pebbles on the beach and comparing their colours and clarity between ourselves.
Later that afternoon we arrived at the Punakaiki beach camp which was a slightly disappointing place after the luxury of Jacksons. We walked the kilometre into town to see the viewpoint for the pancake rocks, the only thing that Punakaiki is famous for. It hammered it down halfway round the 20 minute walkway but our Warehouse preparations saved us. Hurray!
The blowholes only blow at high tide so we wandered back to the camp after finding out midday the next day would be a good time to see it in all its glory. The walk back to camp was better than the walk to the PR as we chose the beach route back and the sun was setting and looking generally lovely. That night we enjoyed a delicious stirfry with one of the cheap sauces we bought at New World supermarket that morning in Greymouth.
The next day we woke with anticipation that today was the day we would see all of this : "The Pancake Rocks at Dolomite Point, Punakaiki, form a well-known tourist attraction some 30 miles north along the coast road from Greymouth. A track from the road leads through native ferns, pongas, and nikau palms to the coast, where rain and sea water have widened the joints in a well-bedded limestone that dips gently seaward into many deep narrow channels. The remnants survive as narrow ridges and pillars in which the softer layers have been eroded out, leaving the harder layers projecting to give the layered effect from which the rocks take their name. Caves and large open chambers, the largest with a natural bridge, have been carved in the rock by the Tasman Sea, assisted by the explosive effects of air compressed in the joints by the waves. On calm days the running of the sea in the caves and chambers, and the gentle hiss of escaping air are heard, but when it is rough, thunderous booming and rumbling noises accompany geyser-like jets of water and compressed air from the blowholes as the sea rushes in and out of the caves and chambers in its relentless attack on the headland"
Apologies for all the cut and pasted material but if theres one thing uni teaches you its why have google and write all your own stuff??
We drove up to the rocks but we were early so we went on the Pororai River walk which goes along the river bank through native forest and then peters out after about an hour at which point you turn round and come back. The walk climbs and drops a bit and passes through some narrow crevasses at times but we essentially did it to kill time. The exciting part was at the end when the road we used at the start was now covered by a river and we had to scramble up and under a flyover to make it back to the van.
We headed up to PR to see the magnificent blowhole and hear the thunder but sadly the wind was blowing in the wrong direction so we didnt see much. Handy that the walk is free or it would have been annoying.
We debated about what to do for the rest of the day and decided on going to Cape Foulwind to see the Seal Colony. We met a nice couple there who gave us the lowdown on Queenstown and the USA and we did the walk up to the cape and the lighthouse. The seals were quite far down on the rocks but there were loads of them and yet again it was sunset so we took a few pictures. Then we bought shopping at the supermarket and drove back to our little site. We were secretly glad that we would go the next day and leave the weird little camp and its git of a cat who bit me. We loved you George then you betrayed us. Now we question your character.
In the morning we set out for Greymouth. From the G-Mouth we phoned home and enjoyed the drizzling rain knowing in our hearts that the west coast receives something like quadruple the rain of the east coast and by that evening we would be in Hanmer Springs, practically back in the east and so, statistically speaking at least, likely to be sunny.
We were looking forward to the springs as anything more than a cursory inspection of an NZ guidebook will tell you that NZ is famous for its volcanic activity and hot springs, ranging from secluded natural hot pools that are unknown to most tourists to whole complexes where man has sculpted out the pools and landscaped the area and basically made it less sandfly prone and provided vending machines so you can get a coke.
Another reason for the anticipation is that “the Hanmer Springs Thermal Pools & Spa are so popular that they were voted BEST VISITOR ATTRACTION at the 2004, 2005 and 2006 New Zealand Tourism Awards and also received the coveted Distinction Award in 2006”.
After the phone call madness where my mates were all down the pub or out whereas K’s were up for a good chat which left me skulking around the library being extorted for access to the internet we set out for Hanmer and a long drive.
We stopped for lunch at a clearing by a river and were viciously attacked by flies. Once we had (rapidly) eaten and folded back up the chairs that made one of their occasional appearances thanks to the hot rays of sunlight penetrating the canopy. Kirsty took her first and last turn driving declaring afterwards that she prefers to navigate and she knows that if I dink the van its always the other guys fault whereas if she dinks it Ill be telling our grandchildren about it daily until we both die of old age.
We arrived in Hanmer and visited the I-Site. I-Site, if we have not mentioned already are the tourist information shops. The are without exception excellently set up and will tell you anything and everything you need to know. Tourism generates a lot of cash so its not unusual for a tiny place to have an I-site with plasmas showing promotional videos, plush carpeting, small gift shops and 7 members of staff.
We got some recommendations for campsites and drove to the Alpine Adventure Holiday Park where the owner sounded so offended by our request to inspect before committing to a night that we hastily covered our suspicion with a few jokes, of course we knew the site would be wonderful, why would we want to inspect it? No, we didn’t think they would run somewhere that was less than wonderful. No, we don’t know why we thought those horrible things and so on and so forth.
This campsite receives top marks for having an adult sizes trampoline (see Kirsty’s facebook profile photo) or My Videos on my facebook profile for evidence of just how much fun one can be. They also had a random DVD of the Office lying about that made for amusing viewing that evening. Before that however we went back into the town and paid our 19 bucks each for entry to the Springs complex. We paid the extra few dollars to go on the waterslides though as it was late afternoon the air temperature soon dropped to bracing and the Black Hole lost its appeal.
The complex has about 15 pools, most filtered to avoid the irritation of getting meningitis from getting the water running into your ears. We lounged about in the pools as the sunset and it got dusky. Most of the time we were in a pool by ourselves. It started to rain and we discovered that rain is a lot more pleasant when in a hot pool as it cools your shoulders down nicely. Eventually we moved to the natural sulphur pools of which there were three. The top one had a temperature of 41 degrees, hot enough to cause massive head rushes when you get out and to make you exclaim in surprise at the heat when you enter.
After a couple of hours soaking in the pools we decided to go back and eat. We had another stirfry in an attempt to consume maximum veggies and to keep taking advantage of the Woolworths promo on that brand. Always thinking you see.
The next morning we played air hockey which has become something of a rivalry between us and we often find tables in campsites and have a couple of goes. We then left the campsite and went on a walk. The Waterfall Track “is a steady climb through mountain beech forest to the 41 metre high Dog Stream Waterfall. Mosses, ferns and other native plants are prominent on the track.”
It’s a 3 hour walk unless like the spanners we are you miss the arrow to the waterfall and walk an additional hour uphill. On the bright side the views were awesome. The South Island of New Zealand is incredible for its ability to present jaw dropping panoramic views with reliable consistency. Look at the photos of Wanaka on Snapfish for examples of the Mirror Lakes. Those photos are not staged or at particularly touristy viewpoints, they are just along the way to places. Amazing.
We did find the waterfall when we got back down and then once right at the bottom we cooked our dinner on our little stove taking advantage of the good weather again to sit outside the van. This momentous lunch is recorded for posterity on Snapfish. We then drove back to Christchurch and enjoyed that most Kiwi of experiences, screeching the van to a halt on the hard shoulder and grabbing the camera as the clouds turn a vibrant scarlet with the sunset…but only for a minute or two at most as the sun is at just the right angle. Lucky for us, and for you if you like the pics, we caught it.
We stayed in Christchurch for just a night- long enough to return my hiking boots to The Warehouse as they had fallen apart on my feet despite only being a week old. Having stayed at the Stoneridge place again we planned to set off for Lake Tekapo.
We arrived at Lake Tekapo at around lunchtime. We ate spaghetti bolognese in the van, we normally cleverly make double when we have it at night so lunch was a nice easy affair heated in the lakeside camp`s kitchen and then huddled over in the slightly chilly kitchen. After lunch we did the Mt John Walkway.
Before continuing we should fill you in on why LT is such an attraction “In the centre of the South Island of New Zealand lies Lake Tekapo. This highland lake and settlement at 710 metres (2300 feet) is in the heart of the Mackenzie District and surrounded by a vast basin of golden tussock grass. The name Tekapo derives from Maori words Taka (sleeping mat) and Po (night). Finely ground rock in the glacial melted waters give Lake Tekapo a beautifully unique turquoise colour.
Lake Tekapo`s geographical and central location is protected from rough coastal weather by the Southern Alps in the west and the Two Thumb Range to the east. This allows this highland location to enjoy some of New Zealand`s highest sunshine hours and lowest average windspeeds. Rainfall is just 575 millimetres (23 inches) annually.
Summer or winter, snow-covered or golden yellow, the surrounding mountains and turquoise lake make a spectacular backdrop for the Church of the Good Shepherd. The unforgettable night sky reveals why Lake Tekapo has a reputation for clear air”
If you want to see it for yourself go to http://www.tekapotourism.co.nz/webcam.htm and look down the page to the Mt John Walkway camera because, as it says “Some of the world`s best scenery can be seen from the Mount John Walkway that passes around the summit.” The walkway winds up through sparse forest and then up to the top of the (small) mountain and wanders past the observatory and the tourist café at the top. Instead of looping round and coming back down the same path we linked it into the lakeshore walk and came down the “back” of the mountain and then wound our way along (shock!) the Lake Shore back to camp. The lake itself does have a beautiful turquoise colour at all times and the grey pebbles along the shore are smooth and clean so it’s a nice tramp back to camp. All in all it probably took 3 hours or so with a stop on a bench at the top. Again, the views were spectacular, the sky was a crisp and vibrant blue. Its interesting to see how different the sky can be between countries. In Australia its an intense blue that looks almost fake its so deep. Often you catch a glimpse of it in Oz between buildings and it looks painted on. Here in New Zealand it’s a bit more like England, a more delicate blue but maybe here the air is cleaner or the higher altitude makes it seem bigger as it seems to stretch out unendingly. Sorry for the pathetic attempt to describe the differences but its important!
As we came back into the camp we had fun on the see saw and then had dinner. That night we drove about 30m along the lakeshore to the outdoor ice rink. Most people had abandoned it by dark in favour of a warm lounge so we had it to ourselves for a good 90 minute skate. Kirsty made great progress in learning to skate and I was secretly happy for spending time rollerblading when I was younger so I could now play the teacher role.
The ice skating was in quite a nice rink, I enjoyed the chance to use their heated changing rooms and power showers thus escaping the freezing camp showers. After we finished we went home and looked forward to the duck onslaught that came with every new morning. The only ducks that eagerly peck up onion when proffered.
In the morning after the predicable ducks came flapping around, we set off for Lake Pukaki. We’ll spare you the chore of the entire Wikipedia entry but here’s the skinny “Lake Pukaki is a lake in New Zealand`s South Island. It is the second-largest of three roughly parallel alpine lakes running north-south along the northern edge of the Mackenzie Basin (the others are Lakes Tekapo and Ohau). All three lakes were created by receding glaciers blocking their respective valleys with their terminal moraine (a moraine-dammed lake). The glacial feed to the lakes gives them a distinctive blue colour, created by glacial flour (extremely finely ground rock particles from the glaciers). It covers an area of 169 km², and the normal operating range lake level is 518.2 to 532 metres above sea level”
The drive took a couple of hours or so and was thoroughly pleasant as usual. In no other country has driving been as thoroughly relaxing as it is in New Zealand, probably a good job as we did a hell of a lot of it. The speedo seems to think we have done 6000 kilometres in two months but I disagree, final totals will be known soon. Anyway, the van is bloody comfortable. A lovely upright driving position combined with CD Player, cup holders and a rather good looking navigator make driving a breeze. We pulled into the Lake Pukaki/I-site car park around 1pm and took some photos. After learning about the walks in the area we decided to continue on to Mt Cook (Aoraki in Maori) or rather the foothills of Mt Cook to do a walk.
We chose the Hooker Valley Track which was a 4 hr tramp with views of the glacier promised at the end. The walk is one of the most popular, “it leads up the Hooker Valley towards Aoraki/Mount Cook. The track passes close to the Alpine Memorial, which is a great viewpoint. Continue on to Hooker River and cross twice on swingbridges before reaching Stocking Stream Shelter. Continue beside the river to its source to reach the Hooker Glacier terminal lake”
This description doesn’t really do it justice. It’s a lovely walk through grassland which becomes progressively more mountainous as you approach the mountain (obviously!) and you go over a couple of exciting looking swingbridges. K is fascinated by them so you will see a few pics of them! The walk terminates at the lake which has large chunks of ice floating in it which makes it eerily foreboding. We met a Scottish/kiwi couple here and they chatted to us for a bit and kindly took some photos of us. We saw them loads in the next few weeks as everyone takes a similar route round NZ.
We walked quickly back to the van because it was getting dark. We were due to get to Omaru that night as the next morning would be Kirsty’s birthday and we had booked a night at the Olive Grove Lodge www.olivebranch.co.nz in a double room with ensuite. We decided to arrive a day earlier but the gate was closed when we got there so we ended up around the corner at a forest park site with a shower made entirely of stainless steel and looking like it was set up in time to appear in Saw IV. We were the only ones camping so we passed a pleasant if cold evening and looked forward to Kirsty’s 26th Birthday, by now just hours away!
We woke the next day and I realised that I’d better not pull my usual act of whining until Kirsty gets up first and gets the stuff for breakfast. Not today of all days. Today was Kirsty’s 26th and as such, I had to treat my aged fiancée with respect, deference and reverence, if only for one day.
I leapt up enthusiastically ready to start the challenge of attempting to give Kirsty a good birthday despite waking in a frosty, secluded campsite. I made fried potatoes, spaghetti and eggs which sounds a bit crap but is worth a kings ransom when you live in a van. Breakfast dispensed with we laughed quietly at the thought of actually getting in the steel shower and drove round the corner to the Olive Branch amusingly located on a strip of road between Breakneck Hill and Misery Point. Romance and birthday vibes were in the air.
Arriving to find the gate locked I opened it regardless and drove down the long drive past the huge highland cattle and knocked on the door. After a 30 minute presentation from the owner while K gamely played the “its my birthday of course I don’t mind if you blather on with the owner for half and hour, tuning the radio for an interminable length of time is how I always pictured my 26th” game.
After finally getting the fact that the hostel is closed for winter except for the ensuite room and that the owner used to work 90 hours a week in Auckland and now lives the good life in Oamaru we checked in.
The room was very appealing with purple walls, a huge bed covered in coloured cushions. A bathroom twice the size of the bedroom and generally funky accoutrements that made the whole thing well worth the 35 quid for a night. It looked like it would be heaving in summer so we were fortunate to get the place to ourselves. We proceeded with the present opening ceremonies. Kirsty’s mum is impressive at birthday stuff so K had plenty to open and enjoy.
We took photos of the happy 26 yr old surrounded by her new booty. Unfortunately the weather was a bit crappy but we drove to the Maoraki Boulders “The Moeraki Boulders are huge spherical stones that are scattered over the sandy beaches, but they are not like ordinary round boulders that have been shaped by rivers and pounding seas. These boulders are classed as septarian concretions, and were formed in ancient sea floor sediments. They were created by a process similar to the formation of oyster pearls, where layers of material cover a central nucleus or core. For the oyster, this core is an irritating grain of sand. For the boulders, it was a fossil shell, bone fragment, or piece of wood. Lime minerals in the sea accumulated on the core over time, and the concretion grew into perfectly spherical shapes up to three metres in diameter”
The Moaraki Boulders are a famous sight in NZ, check out Snapfish to see why! We took some classic shots standing on the boulders and enjoyed the walk along the beach you have to do to get to the boulders themselves. They look more like maltesers than anything else but once you see the cavities in the cliff where these perfectly spherical boulders have come rolling out it does get your imagination working overtime. As usual in NZ it’s a phenomenon easily explained by simple geology but its not repeated anywhere else so the simple explanation seems like there must be more to it than that and the Maori legends which seem so fantastic when you are in the car park take on more relevance when you are there looking at these things.
Whilst posing for a photo on a particularly large boulder Kirsty became nervous as suddenly stronger waves started to swish in around her. Alarmed by the noise of the “pounding” surf even as I tried to calm her down she made a desperate lunge for freedom. Leaping from the top of the rock across a good 3 feet of water she stumbled a bit but made it to her feet. A brave birthday survivor of a near catastrophic encounter with a rock innocently posing as a crumbling malteser but in fact a no mans land from which, we can only imagine, many a person has been swept to their doom.
Once we finished at the boulders we went back to the lodge and I cooked lunch. Then after lunch and a little rest it was time to drive to Oamaru to see what we could find out about Little Blue Penguins and Yellow Eyed Penguins. After driving to the visitor centre and booking our tickets for the Little Blue Penguins (The Oamaru Blue Penguin Colony provides you with the perfect opportunity to watch blue penguins as they return from a busy day at sea.
You will see them arrive on the beach, climb the steep rocks and make their way inland to their burrows) we followed their directions out to the hide for the Yellow Eyes Penguins, a much rarer species. Apparently there was a group of 4 that you could expect to see…we saw over 12 come out of the water and waddle up the beach that evening. More exciting than that was the realisation that somehow one had climbed the cliff and was standing not 20 feet from the hide affording views of this type of penguin that people rarely get to enjoy in “the wild”, youll see loads of close ups of these magnificent looking animals on Snapfish if you haven’t already taken a look.
Once we had spent an hour or so looking at the penguins and listening to their weird shrieking mating call we wandered back to the car park stopping enroute for yet another amazingly rare sight, 2 penguins grooming each other yards from the track. FYI: This is a fairly large penguin, averaging 75 cm (30 in) long and weighing about 6.3 kg (14 lbs). It has a pale yellow head and paler yellow iris with black feather shafts. The chin and throat are brownish-black. There is a band of bright yellow running from its eyes around the back of the head. The juvenile has a grayer head with no band and their eyes have a gray iris. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yellow_eyed_penguin if penguins are your thing.
We arrived in time to secure a good seat at the penguin viewing area. An ingenious and amazingly, considering its size, inconspicuous wooden ampitheatre that overlooked the shale/rock slope that the penguins would walk up before they crossed the path and disappeared between the holes in the wire fence in order to get to their established nesting areas. Again, we were incredibly lucky. Penguins swim in in rafts. In May you might expect 25-35 penguins- we saw 110.
They came up the ramp in their little groups, they only stand about a foot high and are quite fluffy. If one goes in a certain direction they all follow which leads to some confusion as you can tell they must all be pinning the blame on each other as they find themselves at a rocky dead end.
Yet again at the end of this penguin show we were incredibly priveleged to have a wayward penguin waddle up the ramp and then hop across the rocks right up to where we stood at the barrier. We were very lucky in that we were sitting behind the barrier dead level with where Mr P came up. This meant we were able to get to the front of the whispering mass of people who tried to keep quiet and yet get as close as possible to the furry little fellow.
We got to watch him make his way up the rocks too using the single concealed claw at the end of his feet for grip. Unfortunately you are not allowed to take photos so you wont get to see him but it was very exciting as it followed on from earlier when we saw the Yellow Eyed Penguins in such great numbers and so close up.
We stood talking to VJ for a bit- a nice Scottish guy who was travelling about on his own and who we would meet several more times in the most unlikely places over the next few weeks. We also spoke to the lady who had reeled off all the penguin facts in hushed tones on the microphone. Turns out she used to be a supply teacher in Northampton, had lived in Abington and taught at the schools we used to go to which made things interesting. She also used to live 2 streets over from VJ in Scotland so that was a strange coincidence for him too.
After the penguin show we made our way back to the Olive Branch where we had a birthday dinner of curry and rice followed by chocolate cake with chocolate sauce. We also had some sparkling wine and it was all very nice. It was pleasant to cook in the kitchen as it was set up for about 15 people to use but we were the only two in it. The owner brought a candle to our table too which made it even nicer.
The next day (14th May) we woke early, enjoyed our last comfy shower for a while and then had some breakfast. We drove back to the Maoraki Boulders because, Sod`s Law being the way it is, today was sunny whereas K`s birthday had been overcast. We took more pictures and enjoyed the stroll up the beach again which really should have been boring but there is something about beach walking that makes it hard to get tired of.
After that we drove into Oamaru to go to the I-Site and see what information we could get on Narnia filming locations that were supposedly easily accessed from O. We saw VJ again at the I-Site and he recommended taking the time to look through the Public Gardens which we did and thought they were very worthwhile- they look like a popular wedding venue as they have stone archways etc through which you can see lots of nicely manicured flower beds and climbing roses etc. **Before anyone asks, no we are not getting married while away!**
After we finished there we drove to the Elephant Rocks “The ancient Elephant Rocks that sprout from the rolling hills in the Waitaki district of the South Island were transformed in 2004 into Aslan`s Camp. Elephant Rocks are situated near Duntroon, a 40 minute drive from Oamaru on State Highway 83. Over 24 million years ago this whole area was under the sea. Whales and other marine life sunk into the soft sand which then rose to the surface during the last few million years. The result is an intriguing area of fossils and dramatic limestone outcrops” These rocks are quite an impressive sight. A shallow bowl a few hundred metres across houses the rocks which makes them hard to see from the road. They are on private land but whomever owns it very kindly allows public access so you go through a little gate and wander on down. The rocks themselves are huge but vary in size from the smaller 30 or 40 tonne versions up to ones that must weigh hundreds if not thousands of tonnes. Many do look like elephants if you squint correctly though it doesnt require much imagination and some are very obviously pachydermichal. Obviously I just made that word up
We clambered across some of the rocks and Kirsty was very adventurous scrambling up them while I froze in fear attempting the same climbs. There was another rock based scare that day- Kirsty began sliding a little down the side of the rock which, if she fell off would have resulted in a 20 foot drop ontolimestone outcrops and probably a broken back. Still, lucky for her she is engaged to a part time superhero who, without concern for his own safety, fears of the rocks forgotten in the all consuming goal of saving the love of his life, clambered nimbly up onto the rock and proffered his hand and a confident, some would say steely gaze that allowed her to relax and be pulled to safety. And we lived happily ever after.
We drove directly to Dunedin after that- a Scottish town on the south east coast where we stayed in a rather unique campsite where the kitchen closed at 9pm. What the hell?
After having stayed the night at the crappy camp where everything shuts early and they try to make out you should be grateful that they even let you in the place we went into town to check out The Octagon. Its the centre of town, an eight sided area ringed with shops and cafes, bars and the I-Site with the main road running through the middle of it. Its picturesque in a weird way and at least it shows initiative on the part of the town planners. We meant to take pictures of the beautiful buildings around town but then lost interest in favour of going for a walk. If you want to know what you missed go to http://www.nzhistory.net.nz/media/photo/dunedin-railway-station and check it out!
The I-Site were helpful and we were soon getting lost on our way out to a walk. As per usual we drove over 3 times the necessary distance but eventually found the Herward Point Track. It was supposed to be a cliff top walk but personally I prefer cliff top walks where you start on the cliff rather than at the bottom of it. It was a challenging climb up very steep meadow like ground following the orange DOC markers to the top where you did get an admittedly lovely view. After a while in the howling wind we decided to pop back to the van and drive back to town. We did go to the Albatross Colony because we wanted to see baby albatrosses being fed by their parents but apparently they cannot predict when the parents will come back to the nest and that day was not particularly good for sightings said the woman on reception in hushed tones. We admired and appreciated her candour as tickets were 15 quid each. Back in town we changed holiday parks for a Family Park which is still in our top 3 for campsites we have stayed in with an awesome lounge and wood stove.
That night we went to The Octagon to the cinema and watched What Happens in Vegas which gets slated by the critics but is actually hilarious. We parked in a multi storey car park which helpfully beeped loudly at us and flashed red emergency beacons as we went in. No offence to the planners on that one but we missed those clues because of one problem...as the lights were flashing we started to think the van was too tall but then the barrier opened so please forgive us for assuming that its ok to go in. It was OK in theory. There was a good 4 inches between the roof and the ceiling so it was an exciting drive up.
Anyway, the film was funny- random quote “If I could kill someone...with my mind...it`d be you”. Classic.
Before leaving Dunedin and embarking on a trip to the Catlins we filled up with petrol and bought food as the Rough Guide is full of dire warnings about the lack of ATMs, food and fuel. As the Rough Guide is normally chilled ou t about the risks involved in things we paid attention.
We had dinner by the side of the road, seaside in fact, a delicious tuna salad. There are two big sights on the way...Nugget Point “Nugget Point is one of the most distinctive landforms along the Otago coast. It`s a steep headland with a lighthouse and a scattering of rocky islets (The Nuggets).
A five minute walk takes you to the lighthouse, where you`ll enjoy amazing views along the coastline in both directions. If you look down onto the rocks directly below the lighthouse, you`ll see fur seals lolling about, playing in rock pools and generally having fun. Bring binoculars for close-up viewing of this breeding colony”
You will see pics of NP on Snapfish...its quite interesting to see The Nuggets and the lighthouse base provides good views out to sea. We didnt see any seals at NP so we drove further round the coast to Cannibal Bay a renowned haul-out spot for sea lions. The walk was extremely lovely. The sealions that had already hauled out and were lying at the top of the beach near the grass looked like logs and we didnt even notice them until we were pretty close. The beach itself was totally flat and was bordered on both sides by bluffs. We spent an hour or so walking down and back and then drove round to Newhaven campsite, a deserted place that was of a very high standard. That night we had the place to ourselves and watched telly in the kitchen and generally enjoyed the solitude.
In the morning we admired the view as the campsite sat just above the beach (youll see pics of the van on Snapfish). We left the van and walked down onto the beach to walk around Surat Bay, another haulout spot. It was fantastic weather and as we walked through the grassy sand dunes on the way to the beach we had to tip toe past a slumbering sea lion that looked like it weighed a tonne or so.
Soon after getting to the beach we were rewarded with the ultimate sight of one hauling itself out of the sea. We approached for photos getting more and more confident until eventually the sea lion reared up on its tail and roared at us with its giant mouth and fangs on display. We calmly pooed our pants and ran in the opposite direction as fast as possible. Giggling with the adrenalin of nearly being mauled by a marauding sealion we continued quietly and shakily along our beach walk. The guides say dont get between them and the sea but it was impossible not to as they were lined up along the top of the beach so we crept along the 30 foot gap between them and the surf, expecting a comical tap of the flipper on our shoulders if we didnt keep up a continued 360 degree surveillance. We saw two mini sea lions sweetly romping about, we vividly envisaged their cute little fangs crunching effortlessly through our forearms if we got within reach so we admired them from a prudent distance.
After getting back to the van we drove to Jack`s Blowhole. “Jack`s Blowhole is fifty-five meters deep, one hundred and forty-four meters long and sixty-eight meters wide amongst the steep lush green cliffs. The blowhole is two hundred meters inland and it is quite amazing to actually see the distance that it is away from the sea.
From the beach at Jack`s Bay there is about a thirty minute walk to reach the blowhole. High tide and a good stormy day is the ideal time to view Jack`s Blowhole as the waves come crashing in...” We parked right by the sea and ate our dinner. The walk to the blowhole is over some fields and we tried to get a picture with a sheep but they kept running away or weeing all the time and so making themselves unavailable for photo shoots.
The Blowhole wasnt blowing and our guide book says noone seems to be able to say they themselves have seen it do so but its an interesting thing to see and its free to walk to which makes it top of our list in any case.
In an attempt to fit in as much as possible we did some more walks. The Catlins is full of 30 minute walks which makes it tempting to do 4 a day if you have the time. We did a falls walk first : “The Purakaunui Falls are a cascading multi-tiered waterfall on the Purakaunui River, located in the Catlins in the southern South Island of New Zealand. A highly distinctive cataract, it is an iconic image for southeastern New Zealand.” They are the most photographed falls in New Zealand and though not as powerful as some, nor as tall as others they are photogenic and so we did our duty.
Afterwards we did another walk to “The falls are in the Table Hill Scenic Reserve. The walk to them is through regenerating podocarp and broadleaf forest. The falls are beautiful and seen in their best light around midday” See http://www.doc.govt.nz/templates/trackandwalk.aspx?id=45377 for two decent pics at the correct time of day. We did this walk in the late afternoon as the rough guide says they are best viewed with the late day sun shining through them. It was a nice enough waterfall and we snapped a couple of pics before escaping the chilly forest walk.
That night we changed camps as loads of people turned up at our one from the night before and filled the tiny kitchen. Bizarrely the people at the new camp were really friendly. The owner had a load of his mates round to camp and they were having a BBQ when we turned up. He immediately insisted we help ourselves to Salmon, caught that day, Venison (he personally had shot and hung the meat), salads, potatoes, cheese etc. It was all rather delicious.
After dinner they all went off together and we stayed in the kitchen which was divided into a lounge on one side with an open fire, couches and a large TV. We got to watch I Spy, a classic Owen Wilson film with Eddie Murphy.
(18th May) We went to the Florence Hill Lookout today in the morning and did the tautuka boardwalk which was a fun 30 minute walk through long marshy grasses and terminated with a view out across yet more marshland. Really it should be a crap walk but all South Island scenery is so good that even the marshes are nice to look at.
We did the Mclean Falls after the boardwalk “The 22-metre falls are on the Tautuku River in Catlins Forest Park and often described as the most spectacular in the region.The walk to the falls, though uphill, is not too steep and very pleasant. It passes through a variety of forest and shrub types: divaricating shrubland, huge tree fuchsia, stands of olearia and podocarp forest.” We took the pictures and wandered back to the van slightly bored of these tiny walks. A walk of about 3 hours is ideal we decided, preferably a loop so you dont have to backtrack.
Having finished that we walked along Porpoise Bay to see if there were dolphins out at sea. We had parked at a cliff top campsite that borders PB and Curio Bay “Porpoise Bay is perhaps most well known for its small dolphins that can often be seen frolicking in the Bay during the summer months. The Hectors Dolphin one of the world’s smallest and rarest dolphins are a delight to watch. The fur seals and sea lions also populate the area and the Porpoise Bay area is a safe swimming and surfing beach” We ate dinner on our little stove and then strolled along the bay. Yet another pleasant beach walk though no signs of any dolphins. Once back at the van we drove round the back of the site and sat on a nice bench looking right out over Curio Bay though we didnt see a sausage as the saying goes.
We had a quick look at the petrified forest “A petrified forest, 180 million years old, is revealed at low tide at Curio Bay, in a spectacular area known as The Catlins. This Jurassic forest, of petrified tree stumps and logs, is one of the few clues to New Zealand’s geologic history.
Some scientists believe the fossils are related to trees now growing in South America and that New Zealand pulled away from Gondwanaland with the South American continent”. You have to have a good imagination to see the remains but its exciting nonetheless.
We went to Slope Point after this- famous as “the most southerly point of New Zealand’s South Island. Located just south of Waikawa, Slope Point itself is not accessible by road but is a 20 minute walk along a track. The AA signpost at Slope Point shows the distance to the Equator and the South Pole. The surrounding area is predominantly sheep farming country with spectacularly steep drops down to the sea below. The views are truly amazing over the rocky coastline and surrounding cliffs”
Once we finished at Slope Point we drove to Te Anau gateway to Milford Sound, probably the most famous tourist destination in the South Island.
We stayed at a posh park that night that had a fitness suite and so I used it while Kirsty phoned home. After dinner we caught a couple of minutes of Lord of The Rings on DVD. That was what brought home to us the magnificence of what we were seeing day in day out. Previously LOTR had looked mythical and magical (K`s words) but now we glanced at the scenery and just thought “oh yeah, thats the South Island”. Very cool.
The first morning in Te Anau we were determined to get a good deal on a Milford Sound day trip and also to try to get some real information about how dangerous the drive would be. This was the result of a conversation with several different people all of whom inferred that driving to Milford Sound was basically a 4 hour horror derby with tour buses in front and behind, terrible precipitous drops to either side of the wingmirrors and quite possibly snow storms that would necessitate thick snow chains around your tyres.
As usual, the person with no vested interest in selling us something- in this case a lady at the DOC- shrugged and said, its a lovely drive, you`ll have no problems. After that we just had to sort out what we were doing. In an astonishing display of poor sales it took a while for anyone to convince us but eventually we booked an overnight cruise as for the small extra payment we would receive accommodation, 2 meals and a dusk kayak out on the sound when all the other tighter tourists had buggered off home for the night to count their pennies.
We decided to spend the rest of the afternoon walking a small portion of the Kepler Track, one of NZ`s most famous walks or rather, multi day hikes. We avoided multi day hikes for a number of reasons- firstly, we already have our accommodation sorted so paying extra for huts seemed stupid. Secondly a multi day hike tends to necessitate decent equipment and a portable stove and thirdly its easy to die in NZ if you are underprepared, unfit or simply unlucky so we preferred day hikes returning well before dark in an attempt to minimise any dangers.
The part of the walk that we did was the Control Gates to Brod Bay “The track follows the lakeshore through mountain and red beech, with kamahi and some scattered rimu and miro. After passing an attractive grove of hard tree ferns and crown fern, Dock Bay is reached. Continue across the Coal Creek bridge and follow the lakeshore to Brod Bay. Brod Bay is a delightful place to swim and to camp if you have had a late start. Drinking water is available from the lake” This was a 3hr walk at a good pace. At the end of it I got to use a toilet filled with 3000 flies. We got some nice shots across the lake. The rest of that day was spent going on the internet and having dinner at the campsite.
The next day (20th May) we rose reasonably bright and early, breakfasted on a rich assortment of weet-bix and porridge and prepared to set off for the drive to Milford Sound. We tried to leave at a time that meant we were between the hourly coaches that ply the route. There is plenty to see on the way- first stop was Lake Mistletoe- a 45 minute loop walk to a lake through the forest. Second thing on the way was the Mirror Lakes- you often see imitation mirror lakes around (driving to Lake Hawea for instance) but these are the real deal, no currents and sheltered from the wind make for pristine reflections. Third stop was Knobs Flat for the bogs.
Fourth was Lake Gunn Nature Walk which we nearly missed and in the end was quite nice. A simple walk through forest to the shore of a lake. Fifth was the Holyford Valley Lookout for dinner and to take pics. Sixth was the Homer Tunnel Nature Walk (look this up on Google Images) which was excellent. Seventh was the drive through the Tunnel itself “The tunnel is straight, and was originally single-lane and gravel-surfaced. The tunnel walls remain unlined granite. The east portal end is at 945 m elevation; the tunnel runs 1270 m at approximately a 1:10 gradient down to the western portal.[2] Until it was sealed and enlarged it was the longest gravel-surfaced tunnel in the world. William H. Homer and George Barber discovered the Homer Saddle on January 27, 1889. Homer suggested that a tunnel through the saddle would provide access to the Milford area.
Government workers began the tunnel in 1935 after lobbying by J. Cockburn of the Southland Progress League. Progress was slow, with difficult conditions including fractures in the rock bringing snow flows into the tunnel. Compressors and a powerhouse in the nearby river were built to pump out 40,000 litres of water per hour. Work was also interrupted by World War II, and an avalanche in 1945 which destroyed the eastern tunnel portal. These problems delayed the tunnel`s completion and opening until 1953” When you see pictures of the men constructing it with rubber trousers up to their armpits while the water flows around them it becomes a more impressive sight. Once into Milford Sound the road swoops around extremely tightly so your speed gets down to 15kph and coming back up the steep slopes makes it impossible to drive without using the mysterious “2” setting on the automatic transmission.
Eighth on the list was The Chasm which offeres views of holes bored in the rock by the Cleddau River which looks almost sculpted and quite remarkable. At this point there was a stink in the air around the van which we deduced was the brakes. Comforting thought.
Ninth- we parked and got on our boat.
Sorry for this lazy blogging style but its too much hassle to re-write everything that can just be copied onto the blog-
Milford Sound is simply stunning - it is a natural wonder of world fame. In Maori legend, the fiords were created not by rivers of ice, but by Tu Te Raki Whanoa, a godly figure who came wielding a magical adze and uttering incantations. Milford Sound (Piopiotahi) is without doubt his finest sculpture.
Whatever the fiord’s mood, teeming with rain or with sun glistening on deep water, it will inspire you. Nowhere in Fiordland do the mountains stand as tall, straight out of the sea. In the foreground of the fiord, stands Mitre Peak, a remarkable presence dominating the skyline.
We chose the Milford Mariner cruise
The Milford Mariner offers you a very special dinner, bed and breakfast experience. Enjoy a full length cruise of this spectacular fiord to the Tasman Sea before anchoring for the night in sheltered Harrison Cove.
Go exploring with our nature guide in the tender craft and kayaks or simply relax on deck. A sumptuous carvery buffet is served in the dining saloon and, as the evening progresses, enjoy the company of fellow passengers before retiring to the comfort of your private cabin.
The first thing we found when we boarded was that we were lucky to be on an underoccupied boat. The journey had already only cost 55 quid each down from 62 quid. Also- quad share is not normally available on the mariner- you normally have to go on the wanderer which doesnt have such nice food- the mariner is pretty much the luxury option.
So- we had quad share which is not normally available. And we had the cheap price. And then...we got upgraded to a double room which would normally set you back 112 quid each. Thanks for the buy one get one free luxury upgrade. This was after the freshly baked muffins and brewed coffee they serve on arrival. We knew then and there that this cruise was going to be pretty damn sweet.
Once we checked in we had a safety talk and then cruised to Stirling Falls (155m high) which is accessible only by boat. We moored up for the night in Harrison Cove where we saw seals around the boat. HC is the only really safe place to stop in the Sound. We headed out on our Kayaks for about 90 minutes and the guide was excellent.
One guy fell in and had to be rescued and we all got absolutely hammered by sandflies- I had Kirsty`s hat on and ended up with a line of bites that traced the edge of the hat. Kirsty got bitten in her hair parting which really impressed her. Lucky for us we were kayaking a UNESCO World Heritage Site at sunset and so we battled on through and allowed ourselves to be distracted by the surroundings.
We showered in our private, thats private, cabin. Then we had dinner. Roast beef, roast pork, salmon, chicken, prawns and loads of salads and roasted vegetables meant that dinner was a gluttinous affair. We met some Americans and demanded that they plan our entire USA road trip which was fun until they started to award cities Mace and Knife ratings.
Dessert was given a formal introduction by the chef, may we recommend the Manuka honey and walnut icecream if you ever go or the coconut and Baileys cheesecake. Yummeroo.
After dinner we saw a slideshow of the staff climbing the various peaks around the sound and also a video and pictures of an awful storm that they had weathered with a full complement of tourists. Apparently (and quite believably from the cameraphone footage the staff had taken) they had to herd all the tourists into the room we were now in and resort to showing Father Ted DVDs at a blasting volume to drown out the moaning of the wind and the shivering of the captain. The presenter was quite comfortable with his job and got plenty of laughs even during the power cuts.
The next morning we got up a 7am and had breakfast. Again this was awesome. Cereal and other such nonsense that was soon ignored in favour of the cooked English Breakfast. Plenty of fresh coffee. Then a stroll up on deck while the boat cruised the length of the sound at Sunrise all the way to where it meets the Tasman sea. Again, we were priveleged. Normally in the day you`d be cruising with 20 other tourist craft. Not so in our case. Real Journeys do the only overnight cruises so we were alone. We saw St Annes Lighthouse and Mitre Peak (1682m) - both of which you can google yourself if you like.
We saw loads of dolphins swimming about and the conditions turned quite rough but in a fun people falling about way rather than a horrible people falling overboard sort of way. Once we finished our 90 minute cruise (around double the time other people get) we went back to the dock having decided not to bother with the Observatory as the remarkably forthright boat crew said it`d be murky beneath the water due to the inclement weather.
We were back in the van by 10am and we drove to Queenstown. This slightly hyperbolic description should fill you in “Queenstown is the New Zealand destination for international visitors. Its natural beauty changes with the seasons, the lake gleams in the summer sun, and snow clad mountains tower above the township in winter. Queenstown is a great place to visit all year round. Nestled in beside the mysterious Lake Wakatipu, in the Southern Lakes district of New Zealand, Queenstown is a cosmopolitan haven, offering a limitless adventure, southern wine and cuisine, and breathtaking alpine scenery”
The drive was quite nice for the last few miles where it hugged the river and afforded great views across the water and over the mountains. We chose the Kiwi camp in Q`town and immediately headed straight over the road to the famous minigolf. Its the flashest mini golf in the world with 18 holes of mini kiwi scenes like a saw mill and ski lift that your golf ball can ride in. Best of all the 18th hole rewards you with a lolly in return for keeping the ball. A nice touch.
Later on we went down into town to use the internet and saw our Kiwi/Scottish friends again.
The next day was a bit rainy when we woke up but we had a plan of action and we were not to be deterred. We were off to an exciting sort of place on the edge of town- Deer Park Heights. The blurb for the place reads "Come with us on a fabulous scenic wildlife adventure. Visit breathtaking Lord of the Rings film locations and hand-feed and photograph Red Deer, Bison, Llama and 13 other exotic animal species. Take an exclusive trip into Walt Disney’s The Rescue film-set. Stop for morning / afternoon tea amongst magnificent lake and mountain panoramas whilst viewing footage of the movies and learning the local Maori legend and history of the Gold Rush; simply magic" Sounds pretty weird we thought- we`ll do it.
Its built on the side of a mountain (hence the LOTR angle) and the drive up is pretty steep. We put our 20 dollar note in the automatic little gate and it swung open obligingly. With slight memories of the mountain scenery from the Shining we continued on up. The gate post had issued us with a little map and we were keen to get a tub full of animal nuts (nuts to feed the animals with, not literally animal`s testicles). We popped our two dollars in the machine and grabbed what looked like a massive empty baked bean can. At the rumbling tinkling noise of the food pellets you could hear what sounded like the start of a Jumanji style animal avalanche cascading down the hillsides. Pavlov strikes again.
We drove round slowly and first came to an enclosure with pigs, donkeys, a thousand ducks, chooks and some scary looking peacocks. We got out to feed them though in the end I was nearly knocked over by an over friendly pig and Kirsty sprinted for the car when a load of hee hawing donkeys came trotting over the hill to join the massacre. It was lovely to see the animals driven wild by the desire to eat more than their rivals though it was with some relief that we made it back to the van. I had to brace the gate closed against a snorting little pig with a massive maw of a gob. We survived though.
Further up the hill we saw some lovely deer. Kirsty was a bit nervous at first but unsuprisingly for her it took about 30 seconds for her to become completely smitten with the deer and to start to take the piss out of me for not being as eager as her to get up close and personal with them. We passed by some huge highland cattle and other huge thingummijigs. As we rounded another corner on our winding route to the top we came upon more deer and some goats. As we are goat experts thanks to Tasmania we said hello to them and tried to entice a stag to eat our little pellets but they will not be bribed by mere pellets. You dont get massive cool antlers by bowing down to people every time they bribe you with a handful of reconstituted crap.
At the top of the mountain it was bloody cold but we did a couple of LOTR walks and saw some locations of where the cameras were. Google Deer Park Heights New Zealand if you are interested in which bits you can see. We marvelled at the abandoned Korean Prison from the old film and then went back down the hill to get out of the wind. On our way down K stopped to feed the deer until they swarmed her and I had to sacrifice her so as to not risk the vans paintwork having an accidental antler stuck through it. She was not impressed though she remained unharmed. After the Maoraki Boulders, Elephant Rocks and now the Deer dramas Kirsty was overloaded with adrenalin.
For our afternoon`s entertainment we ate lunch and then went on the gondola and the luge. We paid for 5 rides, by now convinced that Queenstown was just one of the places where its impossible not to spend money. We raced down on our little luges and I crashed twice- taking it to the max and having it large comes a a price. The description from the website is so true: "The scenery`s a blur!
Hurtle down a winding downhill track through the trees.
Race through the bends, or pull in for a breather and enjoy the panorama.
Burn it up on the advanced track or cruise sedately down the scenic track.
Then hop on the chairlift and do it all again.
Skyline Luge - it`s 800 metres of fast-paced freedom.
Once is never enough!"
The rest of the evening was spent strolling into town to go on the net to upload photos and write this bloody blog.
Glenorchy was a crappy disappointment frankly. Pitched as a great base for treks and LOTR type scenery this might wash when its not peeing it down but when it is it becomes a bit rubbish. We arrived mid afternoon and thought we`d pass the time with a walk. The map they provided was utter toss so we got lost. When we finally got to our destination after around an hour of driving that should have taken ten minutes we found that a) there was nowhere to leave the car and that b) the bit we assume was the car park was full of highland cattle with giant horns.
We decided to give that walk a miss and went back to town and did another one, more out of the obligation to do something than anything. it was a slightly folorn walk around a lake and along a boardwalk. We spent the evening relaxing at yet another bizarre hostel where the telly was behind bullet proof glass and you couldnt change the channel because there were too many arguments over viewing. We looked forward to watching whatever the hermit in the van behind the kitchen decided we wanted to watch.
We saw our Scottish friends again and they told us of their plans to walk the Routeburn, had a free shower and then buggered off to sleep outside the campsite for the night to save money. Here`s an idea- if you are going travelling and its cold enough to snow, save up the extra 10 quid a night you need to be able to plug in at a campsite so you dont die of frostbite. You see travellers like that a lot here- no money to do anything, no heater or camping equipment but convinced that eating 2 minute noodles and living like a student for six months is an experience. F.R.E.A.K.Y.
Every cloud has a silver lining- the crappy weather of Glenorchy and the general air of melancholy dreariness/good honest hard physical exercise disappeared when we arrived in Wanaka. We arrived after dark practically and were just in time to book tickets to see Indiana Jones the next day at Cinema Paradiso- a boutique cinema where you sit on old sofas or even in part of a restored Morris Minor if you are not too bothered with comfort. We toured the campsites to see which was best and ended up in a really quite friendly and pleasant Kiwi site.
The next morning we went to town to start getting stuck into some of the plethora of cool sounding stuff for which Wanaka is known- Archery, Mini Golf, Driving Range etc. All the things you would like to do if youd been stuck in some abandoned dump of a campsite trying to make fishcakes out of canned salmon and mashed potato.
Wanaka is wonderfully situated. Mountains tower over it and it has a beautiful alpine air. Its so close to the mountains that they seem to loom in a breathtaking manner over the town itself so it seems cradled within the range, searh Google Images for Wanaka to see the type of Scenery we saw. I think it might be loaded onto Snapfish under Wanaka too and if it is then you owe it to yourself to check it out.
We went to the Archery first which was as entertaining as archery always is. There is something innately satisfying about shooting a huge metal tipped arrow into a target, particularly when you imagine a variety of people as the target. We also played mini golf though it was a bit of a waste of time after the awesome golf we played in Queenstown. We both had a go on the driving range though we failed to break the tv screens that are offered as targets. I had a go on the hole on one for the 500 dollar prize but to be honest, there was never any danger they would have to make a payout except maybe when I nearly hospitalised myself. Kirsty laughed loudly at my ineffectual thrashing about and then we had lunch.
After lunch we went to the Cinema Paradiso to see Indiana Jones which was pretty good if you believe that Harrison Ford can move that well which I for one dont. Honestly Harrison- its not even amusing for you to be blown 4 miles inside a fridge by a nuclear blast and then stumble out with only a sore throat to show for it though Im sure that its on the list of possible side effects of Nuclear war- warning- stock your fall out shelter with strepsils and in fact, dont bother with a shelter just lock yourself in the fridge. Dumbo.
We went food shopping and had a nice dinner that night at the campsite.
On our last morning in Wanaka we went to Stuart Lansdowne Puzzling World which is talked up in the Rough Guide and with good reason, the roman toilet is reason enough to visit though we didnt dare pull our pants down to pose. The main attraction is a large 3D maze with four corner towers and linking bridges. You can choose to find the towers in order or just any old how. We settled for any old how. It took an hour to find the four towers. It had been so cold the night before that you could see the ice evaporating off the handrails in the bright morning sun. Unfortunately after another half hour of trying to find the way out we were reduced to sneaking out the emergency exit along with three quarters of the other people it seemed as the maze was a bugger. The hall of following faces was an excitingly eerie room where large faces follow you round and seem to look at you as you cross the room, this is achieved through their having no ears and their being concave not convex.
We enjoyed the hall of holograms and a weird room where everything is set at an angle so the pool table balls seem to roll uphill. Once we finished looking around Puzzling World we started out on our drive to Haast delaying only for me to hit another 50 balls on the driving range. The drive to Haast via lake Hawea provided a multitude of opportunities to take pictures of mirror lakes and we will undoubtedly have some of these printed to canvas when we get home because they look cool and are totally representative of the amazing scenery we have seen during our month in the South.
We had decided to stop at Haast just because it was on the way to the Fox Glacier. We were pleasantly suprised. We rolled in with the empty light flashing on the petrol tank and in need of a decent camp. The camp lived up to our hopes with a nice wood burner, decent lounge, good book swop etc. It was really only the slightly anti social owner who put a dampner on things and the tumble dryers that refused to dry anything.
We spent that evening going for a nice walk on the beach at Haast and seeing a cool sunset that made the sky turn a really intense orange colour. Strangely enough the camera can turn a mediocre sunset into something awesome but it never seems to capture the really magnificent sunsets correctly.
Hi
We are now in Fiji after having left a freezing Auckland. We will finish the NZ blog asap but we are somewhat occupied with relaxing! We are in a little wooden bure which looks out onto the foothills of the mountains and sugar cane fields. Our place has a little restaurant that we ate in last night with an open courtyard, fairy lights wound around the wooden pillars, a log fire on the patio area and quality Phill Collins tracks played at a low volume.
The memories of South East Asia came flooding back when we sprayed the mozzie repellent around before bed, had a (welcome) cold shower and tucked the mozzie net around the bed.
This morning (and now) we took the bus to Lautoka, a local town. We have been second hand clothes shopping and are now searching for a curry as good as the one we had last night. The weather is stunning and the scenery is just as good. We rode the local bus today- no windows, tarps rolled up as its sunny today and loads of Fijians in brightly coloured Sulus and big earrings. The roads are mostly unsealed as we are off the beaten track so we slowly bumped our way to town but the breeze cooled us down. Its not so humid here as it was in Thailand so its very refreshing when the bus rattles along.
Anyway, thought we`d let you all know that we are ok, will email again soon and update the blog of course!
J + K xx
The next day we drove on through to the Fox Glacier. The Glaciers are a huge thing in New Zealand- its very rare to be able to walk on a glacier for the day then kick off your boots, don your trainers and go out for dinner.
Here is a bit from Wikipedia about it "Fed by four alpine glaciers, Fox Glacier falls 2,600m on its 13km journey from the Southern Alps down to the coast, with it having the distinction of being one of the few glaciers to end among lush rainforest only 300 metres above sea level. Although retreating throughout most of the last 100 years, it has been advancing since 1985 at an average of about a meter a week"
We had decided to not pay to walk on it but instead to enjoy the few walks that were free of charge and afforded great views of the glacier and the surrounding terrain. Before we went to the glacier we found a rare thing- a decent campsite. The sites are set in a ring around the power thingies that you plug into. A tiny wood pannelled kitchen and heated bathrooms were a winner too. Suprisingly enough a campsite down the road from a glacier`s terminal face can be a bit nippy so the heating was appreciated.
We drove for 10 minutes to get to the Glacier Valley Walk which takes an hour to wind its way through the valley along the path the Glacier once covered. It rises and falls as you go and there are plenty of "dont stop next 200m" signs urging you to keep moving or risk a shower of rocks on the head (a line that will have special meaning to anyone from Aston reading this).
At the end of the walk you get to see the glacier tumbling (or rather tumbled) down the side of the mountain. It looks like a great frozen river which is pretty much what it is. Most interesting is that it takes 5 years before the snowfall at the top influences whether the glacier will advance or retreat. Global warming seems to have little to say in the matter.
We drove a couple of minutes back along the path to the start of another walk. It being a fine and clear day meant that we could eat our delicious pumpkin soup dinner outside. We were sitting on a little picnic table (sorry, at the picnic table, we are not hooligans). Once we had cleared away the soup and regretted basing lunch around what stuff was reduced at the supermarket we went on our next walk. The River Walk Over the Swingbridge.
This walk was about 10 minutes long but anything with a swingbridge is irresistible. It terminates at the other carpark which again gives great views of the glacier which contrary to our expectations was not sparkling white but actually quite dirty lower down as the rocks that have been more recently eroded and are consquently near the surface make it look like gutter slush.
From that carpark we walked another 90 minutes to another viewpoint- we know, we are thorough. If the sight had been anything more normal this would have been quite dull but its not hard for a bloody huge flood of ice moving imperceptibly down a valley to catch your attention especially when you cast your eyes along the length of it and notice how it rises steeply and it goes back along the valley right to the top point where its probably impossibly deep and an amazingly bright white.
After this mammoth walking session we decided we hadnt yet had enough so we went for a walk round Lake Matheson. This was a small walk by our standards, about an hour round a well defined lake shore walk the main purpose of which was to enjoy the fabled mirror lake reflections. The walk did not disappoint though the crowd of younger backpackers did. Now I am approaching 26 I simply dont care for loud chatter on my nature walks thank you very much!
Once the last walk was finished we wandered back to our campsite and ate some of the worlds best chilli that we accidentally learned to cook. The secret is in the tumeric we think. We met Leanne and Peter, a nutritionist and gym owner from down south. They were so nice we gave them all our old DVDs.
The next day we woke up and tried to do Gillespies Beach Walk. Supposedly a longish walk leading to a fantastic seal colony it was so poorly signed that we spent nearly 3 hours walking the same portion of beach only to get nowhere. We saw Gillespies lagoon and one solitary seal but not much else. It looked as though we could clamber across the rocks to the next part of the walk but the sea was pretty rough. We asked two older people how long it was before the tide came in and they didnt have a clue and just smirked when we asked if it was dangerous. Sick of it by this time and unenlightened by sniggering fools we made our way back to the carpark stopping enroute for a lovely picnic on the beach which became a mobile picnic thanks to sandflies. If you walk, or even stroll really slowly it seems to confuse them enough to be able to avoid their bites but if you stop, its game over buddy!
We drove from the Fox Glacier to the more commercialised Franz Josef glacier. A short two hour drive later we checked in at the Kiwi Camp. The Kiwi Camp was of a decent standard which seems to be the case for camps near anything snowy- they are forced to have underfloor heating etc. in the showers which is nice.
We immediately set off for the valley walk that terminates near the face of the glacier. At Franz Josef you cannot get as close as you can at the Fox but what you can see more clearly is evidence in the tree lines etc. of where the glacier once was a few hundred years ago. On the way back from this walk we detoured up a really steep path to get to a particularly good lookout over the glacier. By this time it really should have been tedious but its difficult to get bored of such a unique thing.
That night we had a treat. Wednesday night is Scrubs and Lost night which are both pretty good. Well, Lost is just weird but Scrubs is probably the best tv show ever. We met the Irish couple from Wanaka again who entertained us with the story of their glacier walk that day. We were convinced that we wouldnt bother but the fact that he looks so much like JLC persuaded us and I went to reception to drop another 80 quid. Still, how many glaciers have you walked on lately ;-)
We had to get up early the next day as we had not booked the glacier walk as we had planned originally to be leaving. We drove round to the glacier guides office at 7.30 to be in time for the 8.15 trip but then found that as it was low season the first trip left at 9.15. We went back to the campsite for a much needed cup of coffee and enjoyed the mini triumph of finding marked down spicy beef in the shop. Who says we dont know how to live?
At the allotted time we were back in the office of Franz Josef Glacier Guides and ready for our Full Day Experience (http://www.franzjosefglacier.com/full-day-glacier-adventure.html). We were processed through several clothing counters and by the end of it we had exchanged several little plastic cards for Crampons, Woolly Socks, Rainjackets, Big Off Boots, Mittens and Overtrousers. We felt like badass glacier walkers already and we were still in the comfortable surroundings of the office which had a certain plushness about it that reminded you that you were paying a good amount for this experience and it had bloody well better be good.
We took the shuttle bus up to the start of the walk which happened to be the Valley Walk from the day before but down a different path. We were given the choice of fast, medium or slow groups. The guide for the fast group was already up on the glacier, the guide for the medium group was a bloke from Bath and our guide was Dale, the most experienced and cynical of them who spent the whole bus ride ripping it out of the English guide and generally endearing himself to us.
We set off along the more difficult part of getting to the face of the glacier up and down some steep ladders which are bolted to the walls. Once there we changed into our crampons which clipped on like the fisher price rollerskates we all had as kids- you could even change the length of them.
The assistants get to the glacier 3 hours before the tours and carve out ice steps for you to walk on. Just writing about it again is making us quite tired. The crampons provide excellent grip on the ice (duh!) and we set off up some seemingly quite shallow steps. At the end of the first climb we were up on the glacier proper and feeling bad ass once more. In all directions was seemingly impassable ice but with Dale we were invincible. Amusingly we kept catching up to the other groups too as Dale took short cuts and bolted in lines for us to go down the steep bits.
After a few hours of stair climbing, stepping over narrow yet stunningly deep drops we stopped for lunch. Just before this was a 30 metre passage so tight that I almost needed to grease my coat to make it through. We got pics of us with a massive ice axe and all over the glacier. Lunch was welcome as was the blister tape Dale supplied. My Tesco socks were not cutting it though Kirsty`s primark ones did ok.
We saw some natural Ice caves after lunch and walked through one. Its formed by drainage and the inside is an intense blue. Several times Dale put ropes up to help us down steep descents. Only one persons crampons broke but they were soon replaced.
Later on we made it as high as we would go that day, it didnt look far when looking from the glacier floor up to where we were as we had done at the beginning of the day but at that point it looked like forever as we began to understand the task we had accomplished.
After the long, long, long tramp back to the car park we had long hot showers and din dins. Then we slept like babies.
The next day was taken up by a long long drive up the West Coast. Hokitika is famous for its black sand beach which I briefly glanced at long enough to ascertain that it was really a dark gray beach and that the tourist brochures were using more than a little artistic license in order to draw tourist dollars to the region.
Pretty much the most exciting thing that day was lunch by a river and a modified game of Pooh Sticks using an apple core and no bridge or competitors.
After about 7 hours on the road we arrived in nelson with just enough energy left to traipse around the supermarket and eat dinner before watching a classic film Shooter with Marky Mark playing an ex marine who has to blah blah blah. review: "With an implausible story and numerous plot holes, Shooter fails to distinguish itself from other mindless action-thrillers." Pretty entertaining except for the Chinese family who took over the lounge with their beeping bloody laptops and then fell asleep all over the couch. And the miserable old man who would keep turning up in different campsites, always with his shoes off watching crap on telly and stinking the place up. The next day he would ask me the best way to transfer 10k in NZ dollars to Africa like a weird reverse fonejacker.
Leaving Richmond (Nelson) the next day we enjoyed a cream tea where they really cock up the scones by microwaving them. Then we drove to Collingwood campsite right in the north east of the south island and walked along farewell spit that night. FS gets a lot of good press but we didnt see too much about it that was remarkable. Feel free to google it to see what it should be like. It promised a lovely beach walk out into untamed wilderness pounded by the open seas. Good one. It was a long drive there so maybe we set our standards too high.
We slept that night in another forgettable campsite. We would discover over the next few weeks that campsites go from passable to terrible as you head north in NZ. The old man was there again, sprawled over the couch, cheesy feet toasting on the fire. Having spoken to us just that morning we thought he might acknowledge us but no. Not a big loss believe me.
We left Collingwood in the morning having thankfully located a garage and gotten that yucky no petrol light to turn off on the dashboard. We found ATNP quite easily. As with most of the better walks in NZ it really necessitates overnight tramping but we had discovered that there was a shorter coastal track that you could do a section of in a day.
We parked up and set off for a 3 hour walk. naturally we thought it best to consume some top flight nutrition before we left. One tuna sandwich on cheapo bread later we were set. The walk went across the beach and around some rocks until it came to the peninsula where you could climb up for views.
What set this walk apart was the boiling hot day and the type of beach it crosses. It was the super long, flat compacted sand type where the sand seems endless and perfect for walking. The sea was very calm and you could see the gradual progression of depth from the shallows right out to the horizon. Clambering along the rocks was as fun as ever, even the steep climb up to the point at the end of the peninsula was fun though we admitted defeat before reaching the unknown peak. Too often have we gamely plunged on for hours at a time. Now we just forget it!
After returning to the van and being amazed at finding it untouched we went back through Nelson in the car (cue much hilly driving) and got to Blenheim which is a forgettable run down sort of place though famous for viticulture.
We stayed in the worst sort of dive which looked like a haunted house. it came with a resident weirdo in the tv room and an abandoned 1960s American horror film feel to it. Lovely. The next day we drove to Kaikoura which would provide a welcome break from the slightly crappy campsites we had put up with for the last few nights.
Arriving in Kaikoura is an experience in itself. barely into town and youll find yourself stopping to have a look at the massive colony of seals honking contentedly by the sea. Its a welcome and entertaining break from the slightly boring Blenheim/Kaikoura drive, the unremarkable drive made even more so by the knowledge that you will have to repeat it in a couple of days because you were not clever enough to see it the first time round.
Arriving at the Alpine Pacific campsite was fun. The owner is the sort of friendly bloke that makes you wonder why other camps are run by such bastards. The campsite itself was a joy. There is no hyperbole here. It is a joy to arrive somewhere clean and spacious with realt sky telly and decent showers. Finally.
We had come to Kaikoura for one main reason...Whale Watching tours. We booked that day at the I-Site and then I went to the Gym while K used the internet. We were counting down till the next morning really and for our 4 hour whale watching tour.
We woke up 6.30am (travelling is good for getting you used to getting up!) We drove down to the Whaleway Station and saw the sunrise. We enjoyed a nice coffee while looking with slight trepidation at the printed reports explaining that conditions were choppy that day. Despite being told by the I-site that the dawn cruise was the best our tour was much less crowded than the one we would see going out just after we got back later that day which was pretty sweet.
We piled on to a tour bus which had been driven by the same bloke for about a billion years between the Whaleway Station and the quay where the catamaran would be moored and waiting for all us excited whale watchers. Remembering Whale Adventure by Willard Price we were desperate for a piece of the action.
The tour started with a long motor out to where the tectonic plate ends and the shelf drops about 3km and so is conducive to whales coming by. This was all explained by clever graphics on the plasma which couldnt hide the rough conditions that would eventually result in the worst seasickness that either of us had ever felt. We really felt like we would both end up doing a technicolour yawn all over the floor if it didnt stop rocking!
We used the whale phone to try to contact some whales. Eventually our spotter and our phone meant we saw seals diving, two whales together and another two separately, a rather excellent trip in the captains opinion. We got the classic whale fin pics and it was difficult to reconcile the reality of the huge whales just metres from the boat. Its the same when you see anything like that in the wild- somehow you got the idea that they were all props leased to the ocean by David Attenborough. In Mereway Tesco buying pasta on a Friday night its difficult to imagine these creatures actually are there, swimming about and generally being enormously powerful and large. Funny.
Once back on dry land we concentrated on not tossing our cookies as the old saying goes. We thought the best way to do this was to go to a little BBQ place we had read about. Run from a shack next to the shore some guy and his mum serve a really simple menu- mussels, fish, prawns or chowder with rice or bread. It was very cheap and freshly cooked.
After we finished eating we went round the corner to another seal colony where the gigantic sea lions were laying all over the car park. You have to give them a wide berth lest they snap your arm off with their fangs. That doesnt preclude edging slowly toward them to get a picture though. We walked up the hill (bloody steep) to look down onto the official viewpoint but there wasnt anything to see. Meanwhile 3 feet from our van down in the carpark a young seal was chasing the birds. Cue a fast jog down the hill to see it and an enjoyable moment pushing to the front of the viewing crowd by virtue of the fact that it was our van!
Kaikoura means eat crayfish in Maori and we decided to see what we could arrange. The average price from a restaurant was about 70 quid for two peole. Suspicious that it was all a con we had a word with the guy on reception who recommended going to a local fishmonger and buying a whole crayfish. We followed this advice, even choosing it from a tank. It was cut in half for us and was sufficiently spiny and pointy to make us feel really grown up to cook it. It twitched like mad on the BBQ but to be honest, the marinade we made was so good that it probably brought it back to life boom boom.
Once it finished twitching I served it up. We both agreed that it was like a giant prawn and that 17 quid for it was a bit steep but it was tasty nontheless. Ong Bak was on the telly so we watched Tony Jaa hammer the crap out of about 300 people at once. Tony Jaa vs Jason Bourne would be awesome.
On the morning that we left Kaikoura my incessant chattering to strangers paid off. The lady in the gym the previous evening told me a little known secret about Ohau Point. Apparently some years before when the Killer Whales had been in the area the mummy seals made their way upstream to the Ohau Waterfall to have their pups. Nowadays the pups stayed up there all day while the parents went out to hunt or whatever they do. It wasnt a sure thing that they would still be there but it was certain that next to no tourists would know about it!
We wandered up to the waterfall and had one of those rare travelling experiences that cost nothing and yet are head and shoulders above some of the other paid activities that you have done.
At the watefall were at least 50 baby seals, most only about 3 feet long if that. They are only about a tenth as big as their parents and they were all playing together in the stream diving about. Eventually after we had been there for half an hour they became inquisitive and gambolled over. Unfortunately we didnt want to interfere with them or tangle with their parents if they came back so we had to leave at that point but the sight of all those tiny seals splashing about was definitely something that will stay with us.
We drove on to Picton arriving late afternoon and having spaghetti bolognese on the way. In Picton we stayed at a Family Park, yet again back to the unremarkable type of camping that typifies this area. We went for a walk (suprise!) to Bruce`s Bay along the cliff top which was a decent walk which ended at a really nice bay with views of the tourist boats going around. Even better was the Wednesday night Scrubs and LOST.
We woke up in the South Island still in Picton but by that evening we would be in Wellington in the North Island. The ferry was pretty interesting mainly because we could go on as a car not a campervan so it was cheaper. We watched Ratatouille and then another crap film. K felt ill as it was a rough crossing as so we sat on deck and ate M&Ms to feel better. Once across to Wellington we set about getting lost. This is typical in the North island. The roads are so frustrating. One night (dont tell anyone) I drove the wrong way up a motorway sliproad in the pitch black when it was pouring it down. Sorry mum! And Kirsty`s mum!
We stayed at the Top 10 in Lower Hutt which we found almost by mistake. It has a keypad entry which instantly made it cool along with the air hockey and the massive kitchen. Thank god for snobby campsites. Its so worth it to pay an extra 3 quid!
The next morning we went to the Te Papa museum, famous in NZ for good reason. We read the Treaty of Waitangi (which was the formal recognition of the British government of New Zealand) which in the English version asks for quite a lot more than does the Maori version they handed out. Even now the Waitangi tribunal is awarding Maoris who had massive tracts of land stolen from them with millions of dollars.
We experienced an earthquake in a model house and listened to the sobering commentary. Revived with an espresso and a protein cookie in the cafe we were looking forward to taekwondo that night with Mr Peter Chapman. It was an excellent session including a chance to do pad work with a former Thai boxing instructor and also a go at putting out a candle by kicking to within half an inch of it and letting the wind do the work.
After dinner that night we contentedly had showers in the heated bathrooms and enjoyed the radio that top 10s pipe in. Nothing like a shower with Bon Jovi (boom boom).
Wellington is famous as the second Windy City. And with good reason. Frankly it should be famous for crappy road layouts and hooligan drivers but I guess that doesn`t have such a pleasant ring to it.
We parked quite far out of the centre so as to avoid a 12 quid parking charge, mugs. Ill take 12 quid to walk half a mile thanks. We went to see famous Cuba street, an arty st full of cappuccino bars and the bizarre bucket fountainthat looks like a massive fisher price toy. Once we had glanced atthat we rented some roller blades from Fergs Kayaks and had a blast on them up and down the harbour front pulling some slick moves. Suprised we werent spotted for the next Dancing On Ice frankly.
Having not embarrassed myself enough that day we then went to see Sex and the City which was the first girly film ever to be too girly even for me though Kirsty professed to enjoy it. The best part was the free bag of crisps we got handed on the way out by the merchandising team. Then we drove back in the pouring rain enjoying the famous wrong way up a slip road drive along the way. V lucky to have not died or been arrested but in my defence the water on the road was so deep you couldnt see the road markings.
At the campsite we drove through over a foot of standing water on the drive to make it in, luckily the van did not conk out.
The next day dawned bright and clear as the cliche says. We walked along Oriental Parade in the morning, traditionally an activity done while enjoying an icecream but we subsituted in a Subway in its place. The parade itself follows the harbour front for a couple of miles and is more of a promenade. You get good views across the water and al the joggers, bladers and cyclists get in the way as you try to get a look at the fountain thats halfway submerged in the harbour itself.
After we had eaten our Subway we went to Brooklyn Taekwondo. A 10 mile drive that took over 2 hours to get to. Mr Kraiger soon made us realise that walking for 3 hours a day does not make you particularly anaerobically capable and we were left wheezing after the first 30 minutes. An hour and a half later we were released and went home again.
The next day we left Wellington after having a delicious Starbucks. We drove North West to Paraparauma to the Nyco factory which in the style of the comic book store guy from the Simpons wins the award for Worst...Chocolate...Factory...Ever!
We gorged ourselves pointlessly on the free samples- poor old chox compared to Haigh`s of Melbourne. Anyway, moving on we drove to the Lindale Centre which boasts cheese tasting and real icecreams. We ate the best icecreams in the world and then had the most mediocre dinners in the world at a little cafe. Ho hum.
We then drove to Wanganui to stay for the night of which we have no recollection at all so you will have to imagine it for yourself. Sorry.
The next morning we drove to Turangi, a town that really does have a sullen air about it. On the way in we stopped at a camp where a crap salesman behind the counter tried to tell us it was too cold to do the Tongariro Crossing without his mate guiding us. Why take the bus for 20 dollars when you can pay him 80 eh? We said we`d double check in town. Needless to say the crossing was open for independent walkers and by simply ignoring the desperate Gill in the camp we saving 150 dollars. Good deal.
We checked in at a campsite after viewing the competition over the road. The signs everywhere warned us to lock all valuables out of sight and the kitchen was clearly a murder scene waiting to happen. After booking our bus ticket at the i-site and being given the inside info on where to stay I lied to the original camp to get our money back and we swapped to a site where we stood at least a fighting chance of not being robbed or stabbed before dawn.
Tongariro Crossing gets its own entry...
Often referred to as the best one day walk in new Zealand it has been recently upgraded to the Best One Day Alpine Walk in New Zealand in an attempt to tell all the dozy thickos who think they can drag their sloppy behinds around rugged mountain scenery for 7 hours without collapsing and either dying or wishing that at least they had brought a jacket so that they wouldn`t do a Johnny from The Shining while waiting for the helicopter to pick them up that yes, it can sometimes be cold. I.e. when it snows.
Anyway, thickos aside the brochures waxed ecstatic about this walk and having done several hard 4-5 hour walks in the South Island we thought we would be up to it. The walk passes through Mordor (LOTR) country. Apologies once again for all the cutting and pasting that comes now but I have two excuses- one, the brochures do not exaggerate, the view from the top of the crossing is definitely one of the best in the whole of NZ which means a hell of a lot if youve seen the pics of the rest of NZ. And two, its my birthday today and yet I am selflessly blogging for you.
Anyway:
The crossing spans the length of Mt Tongariro (18.5 Kilometres) and takes about 7-9 hours. You start from the Mangatepopo Valley and walk over towards the Ketetahi road end as this will minimise the climbing involved. You need to arrange transport to the begining of the trek and pick from the end of the day with your accommodation provider in National Park Village.
Your transport will drop you off at the Mangatepopo carpark and the first section you cover is fairly flat, the track is well formed and board walked in damper parts, poles mark the way. About 15 minutes from the car park the track to Whakapapa branches off to the right. Five minutes after this junction a side track leads left to the Mangatepopo Hut, and toilet facilities.
The main track continues up the valley following the Mangatepopo stream and around the edge of old lava flows.
You will notice the change in plants as you climb in altitude,
the last toilet stop is at Soda Springs unitl you get to the Ketetahi Hut.
This section is steep - climbing from 1400 up to 1600 metres above sea level (known as the devils staircase) Take your time and on a clear day the view down the valley and out across the surrounding countryside is well worth it! You may even see Mt Taranaki, another volcanio on the western horizon.
Take care as you are walking over layers of ancient and modern lava flows and other volcanic debits so the track surface is not smooth. The track veers slightly to the left 5 minutes before reaching South Crater. To continue on the Crossing follow the marked route.
If Mt Ngauruhoe is clear and you have a beautiful day with plenty of time, you can make the decision to climb to the summit. Head for the old lava flow as it is very difficult if you try to climb up the scree.
It is great to be on the flat, but once you have crossed South Crater there is another short climb on an exposed ridge. The track follows the ridge to Red Crater.
If you have plenty of time you can make the decision to summit Tongairo, just before reaching the crater, the route heads off to the left.
The main track continues around Red Crater. You have spectacular views over the Oturere Valley, Rangipo Desert, Kaimanawa Ranges and down to the emerale lakes, but it can be a little scary on a windy day.
Care is required with the descent from Red Crater, as this part of the track is steep and you are on loose scoria which can move under foot.
To the left you will see an old lava flow from Red Crater spreading out across the floor of central crater. To the right are the Emerald Lakes. The colour is caused by minerals leached from the surrounding rock. The steam vents above the lake are responsible for the sulphurous smell.
You will notice the Track to Otureree Hut, part of the Tongariro Northern Circuit, branches off just past the lowest lake. The Tongariro Crossing track follows around the edge of Central Crater then climbs up to Blue Lake (A cold acidic lake)
The lake is tapu (sacred) and it is disrespectful to eat or drink around its shores.
A short easy climb to the edge of North Crater, this was once filled with molten lava and then cooled and solidfied to give an level surface more than 1000m wide.
You have a sensational change in your outlook, in good weather there are spectacular views out over Mt Pihanga and Lake Rotoaira to Lake Taupo.
You then zigzag your way down to the Ketetehai Hut, the ground can be quite boggy and the pumice base is easily eroded - please stay on the main track.
he track crosses the stream that flows down from Keteahi Springs, the rocks are stained by minerals in the water. Visitors are asked not to leave the track, as the springs are on private land.
You will need to follow the poled route down through the open tussock land to the clearing with some seats. At this point the track drops steeply to the Mangatetipua Stream. A short side track leads down to a waterfall a few minutes before reaching the car park.
Red Crater is where we stopped for lunch, the highest part of the climb and the part that gives spectacular views. Look at the pics on Snapfish to see views of the Blue Lake, the Emerald Lake, the Red Crater and the general Lord of the Ringsiness of it all. The most exciting bit of it is that the ground on the Red Crater is warm and gently steams in places. Just yards from snow covered ground we sat warming our bums and eating our egg sandwiches. The stink of sulphur from the crater made us regret our choice of filling. Because so many people have got stuck up on the moutain and some have died on the walk they make a really big thing of not dilly dallying and so the supposed 7-9 hour trek only took us 6 hours 15 minutes. Skills.
We left Turangi that night because it really is a bit of a dump. We drove to Taupo to a top 10 camp with the largest jumping pillow in New Zealand. Good things.
Our first day in Taupo was typical of the North island...great opportunities often thwarted by uncooperative weather- translation...most of the time it peed it down or was cloudy. nice. We happily spent the morning on the largest jumping pillow in New Zealand. Jumping Pillows are definitely top of our list of possible items to include in our garden when we get a house though no doubt it would soon become deflated at the hands of a knife wielding chav.
After the jumping pillow we went in the free spa pool which are fairly common around the Rotorua/Taupo area what with water bubbling out of the ground seemingly anywhere and everywhere- its not uncommon for most motels here to have a private spa in every room.
Once we had finished with the important business of bouncing about and then hard boiling ourselves in near 40 degree water we drove into town. We were planning to do a skydive but alas we were thwarted by the weather- a thick cover of cloud had grounded all the flights. We searched on the internet and found that you can do them in the USA for around the same price. maybe we`ll do one in San Diego, you might be able to see the Mexico/USA border from the freefall which would be pretty cool.
Again, we planned to go skiing in mt Ruapehu but were told to wait a week until more snow fell, as you will see we did eventually go skiing. A week after our first phone call it was still only manufactured snow on the slopes but nevertheless it was good fun. Anyway the point of all this nonsensical rambling is that we went to the library so i could read back issues of mens health, on the internet so we could see how much cash our account is hemmoraghing and then to the climbing wall. Which was closed. And to badminton. Which was fully booked.
Seems like that afternoon the only thing that wasnt booked out was a cheap dinner in the camp kitchen. What a blast that was.
Another day in Taupo. Another 24 hours floundering about deciding what to do because of the weather. However today we were prepared. Having lost one day (sort of) to badly planned activites we woke with the idea of what we were going to do and no damn cloud would stop us.
Firstly, we went to the gym and woolworths for what human does not feel smugly productive after an hour at the gym and a flash sandwich constructed at the back of a van in a supermarket car park? These sandwiches even came with sliced olives. They were that classy.
For our afternoon entertainment we went on the Huka Falls walk which was suprisingly good. Starting from the car park we got distracted by the 30 metre long flying fox in the park. One thing you can say about NZ is that its parks are awesome. Not so much for 26 year olds but for kids its utopia. And if there is a jumping pillow or a flying fox then its for adults too. If this was Northampton someone would have hung limp from it at the end of its travel, probably strung ip for having looked at someone else`s crack ho but this is beautiful New Zealand, noone had peed on it, noone had graffit`d it.
All the crime round here is good honest car theft and bag snatching, none of your nasty, pathetic ruining of kids playgrounds or burning down of wendy houses while high on white lightning.
Of course, from all accounts by the time we have been in LA for a while we`ll be begging to come home to be stabbed instead of just being snipered while out buying gas. If thats what happens. Who knows but our US friends gave it a 3 knife, 2 Mace and possibly a Tank rating. Thats not a good thing.
Anyway, one flying fox later it was an exhilarated pair who set off down the path to the Huka Falls. We will not copy and paste the crappy article we just read on it. Here is the 400 words condensed to much less- it follows the river, climbs some steps, seemingly passes through a giant split rock and then you see the falls, impressive for their volume not their size which sounds a bit crap but when you understand that 220,000 litres per second go over the 10 foot drop which cannot be more than 20 feet wide. Its actually pretty impressive. yes, we are nerdy enough to be impressed by a waterfall. It more of a furious torrent of water if that helps macho it up a bit. Whatever. I`m 26 today- I can write what I like.
Anyway, later that day we went to see the HULK movie at the Starlight Cinema which contrary to expectations is inside though technically it was night time when we watched it so one can only imagine the stars were shining brightly above (the thick clouds). As per usual, putting Edward Norton in it was a saving grace for that film, not assisted much by Liv Tyler.
And that was our second day in Taupo. Maybe we bummed about there so much because its so pleasant. And it has award winning public toilets.
Having achieved nothing in Taupo that couldnt have been done in England, except for the Huka Falls walk we decided to move on to the top tourist destination in Rotorua. Famous for hot pools and a plethora of cash draining tourist activities.
On the way to Rotorua we went past the Craters of the Moon, eager to know whether what was there lived up to the impossible name. its just out of Taupo and promises "a 30 minute walk that visits bubbling craters, mud pools and steam vents. You can also see a lot of interesting plants that have adapted to thrive in the hot, steamy conditions. Enjoy this fantastic geothermal area free of charge along well-formed pathways with elevated viewing platforms" The website we stole this description from is as out of date as our Rough Guide. These days its 5 dollars each to see it, ostensibly to cover the expenses of having someone to watch the carpark while you go round.
It was quite a sight...one that would become more familiar as we visited more of the thermal areas in this part of NZ but that first one was still exciting as it was so unique. You follow a rocky path around the place and look at craters belching mud, filthy black "inkpots" of water boiling by the side of the track and you get to see the rings of bright colours around the craters showing the minerals that have leached into the soil. A happy 30 minutes later and we felt like we had achieved something worthwhile. Our first volcanic experience.
Continuing up the road we eventually arrived in Rotorua gagging momentarily on its legendary sulphur stink. We learnt that despite being a tourist centre its many campsites vary from pathetic to complete trash.
That night we stayed in a (ha!) Top 10. Good one losers.
The next day we went to Zorb, Schweeb and Swing. Unfortunately the individual Zorb was closed due to adverse weather, the Sky Swing looked ridiculously scary and the Schweeb was only ever viable as part of a package deal. Undeterred we continued on. We watched the Sheep Show instead. "The Agrodome Sheep Show is a one-hour performance, presented three times daily in a specially designed auditorium. During the show the audience will see nineteen sheep breeds introduced onto the stage, the art of sheep shearing, sheepdog demonstrations, cow milking, bottle feed lambs and an exciting sheep auction. Audience participation is a major part of the show highlighting the significance of agriculture in New Zealand." This was pretty good except for the slightl;y perverted presenter who got a kick out of women milking the cow. We enjoyed the sheep dog show afterward too.
Later that day we went indoor climbing in town which was quite an experience. I made Kirsty climb first and she nonchalantly climbed the 12 metre wall and then abseiled back down. I climbed it with shaking hands and was overtaken by a 7 year old girl on the wall next to me. Oh well.
Once we finished climbing we watched Brit film Happy Go Lucky in the tiniest cinema ever- 13 seats. We climbed for a bit after the film too as the cinema was in the same bit as the climbing wall and run by the same people. All tuckered out we headed back to the campsite.
The previous day we had changed campsites and we were ready for action after a decent night`s sleep. We headed to Hells Gate, another Rotorua institution which offers natural mud baths, a tour of its mud pools and hot springs- and, it turned out, a freezing cold shower between mud bath and relaxing hot spa.
The wander round the hot pools/mud bit (the natural feature part) was fuelled by cookies and the cold. It was quite an impressive walk and only cost 10 dollars. You get a feel for the almost prehistoric landscape, it wouldnt have suprised us to see dinosaurs about rather than just groups of school kids.
Once we finished the walk we had a mud bath and enjoyed spreading the thick grey mud all over but not around our eyes- the chemical content makes your eyes water as we amusingly found out. It expressly says do not put near your eyes. Then later in the hot pool all the ex mudders share we saw two girls with red eyes moaning about having to use eye drops and the burning pain. Previously we saw them completely plastered in it in the mud pool next to ours. More dumbos.
Anyway, the good part was that we paid 30 dollars less than the dullards in their private pools and yet the lack of visitors meant ours was effectively private anyway. Hurrah!
we stayed in the hot pool after the mud bath for about 50 minutes as you could see over the complex (though we were at ground level) and we could eavesdrop on the staff doing a crossword- "how do you spell Lopez?" being one particularly difficult debate.
That night we did a Maori night experience which gets its own blog as it was so good!
Thats right, I am chief.
It all started in the I-Site when we realised that the Mitai Maori Night was on special offer and that the Rough Guide promotes it as the most "enthusiastic" of the nights. To backtrack slightly, a Maori night is a Rotorua must do for tourists. Generally it involves going to a village (real, reconstructed or staged in a hotel`s ballroom- the latter being rubbish) and being welcomed by the warriors, having a cultural dance performed for you and then being treated to a Hangi- a feast cooked in a steam oven buried in the ground (obviously the steam is natural from the geothermal vents).
We booked the Mitai Experience and were collected from our camp at 7.15 sharp by John, a Maori who drove the bus, apparently because the other people greet us in traditional garb (i.e. with next to nothing on) and as John said- it was quite cold!
We arrived at the village and got a drink. Before we settled in we got greeted by the warriors in their canoe. The website tells you "Sudden movement amongst a sea of green alerts you to the fact that you are not alone in this enchanted forest. The swirling waters of the sacred spring mingle with the approaching chants of the warriors on the Maori war canoe (waka) as if coming from the past they breathe life into the raw culture which has survived the tides of change. We are proud to be Maori and honored to share with you the stories, trial, tribulations and teachings of the ancient Maori." Because this is set in proper foresty surroundings at night this Waka going past is quite eerie and a real sight to behold. They chant loudly as they pass and its only John joking more about seeing them struggle to paddle backwards (to us it looked flawless) that stopped some of the more sensitive souls from shrinking back into the shadows.
Once we had watched their arrival we settled in with a beer or a bright blue cocktail in Kirsty`s case. One bit of action common to all the nights is that the guests are banded together into a tribe and one of the guests has to be the Chief and take part in the official welcome. This involves accepting an offering from a warrior, doing a hungi with the chief (nose rubbing greeting) and making a little speech. Understandably its not a popular duty with people- especially as the urban legend goes that one tourist laughed at the dancing welcome and the Warrior punched him in the face.
Anyway, mainly to annoy all the other blokes in the audience who were studying the table cloth (girls could not be picked) I volunteered to do it. Ha, they all had to applaud us and John asked if K had forced me into it, to which she just grinned, knowing that I am keen enough to get on stage without her forcing me.
Once they had danced and I had accepted the gift, done the Hungi and made a little speech (newsflash losers, 3 lines is not a speech- why were you so scared?!) I sat down to enjoy the show, next to K in the chief seats. John then referred to me as Chief and K as Chieftainess all night which we secretly enjoyed. Mainly because every other pansy got a reminder that he didnt dare volunteer for something that turned out to be completely harmless.
Anyway, the performance was excellent, a bit of dance, song, martial arts, Maori weapons and so on. Once it finished we went for dinner. Dinner was as flawless as everything else about this night (at 35 quid a ticket it should be!) and we enjoyed meat, veggies, breads etc. followed by delicious desserts. Kirsty particularly enjoyed the Swiss Roll/ Roulade...and the trifle. I enjoyed my third Heinekin.
After the meal had finished we went on a little walk to see some glowworms near the Mitai sacred spring. We had upgraded to the Rainbow Springs option which meant that we enjoyed "your night lit extravaganza of the Rainbow Springs Nature Park.
View wildlife and bush under an array of coloured lights. This is a truly magical blend of Maori Culture and Nature in a unique all-in-one night time package to be remembered forever.
A guided tour of the night-time Kiwi walk through enclosure is also included."
It was a handy way to see some Kiwis up close as they are difficult to see elsewhere being both nocturnal and shy. As the national bird it was important to us to tick them off the list of things "done" in NZ. Once we had finished all this we got driven back to the campsite thankful to have seen it and glad that for once, laying out cash got us much more in return than we expected. Unfortunately once out of the Mitai grounds Kirsty refused to call me Chief. Oh well.
So, we woke up the next day knowing in our hearts that it would not be as good as the day before as I was no longer a chief. I knew this when I had to wash up after breakfast. Anyway, the only reason we thought it might be crap was because it was raining (again). However, neither cake nor museums nor tkd nor a sixpack of beer nor Domino`s pizza shops are weather dependent and may we praise god that they are not. Take all of the above in one day and you have a fine mixture.
Beginning at the start we commenced by going to the museum. Normally museum is simply the Latin word for drudgery and even Te Papa the national museum in Wellington set over 5 levels in a multi million dollar building had started to grate after about 2 hours.
In a bizarre twist relative outsider "Rotorua Museum" proved itself to be more than it appeared. Set in a lovely part of town with manicured lawns the museum is housed in the old Baths House and is "the guardian of a building holding the highest classification under the New Zealand Historic Places Act"
Its hard to describe why the museum is so good but its probably because the cellar is the old baths house and most of it remains, giving an excellent impression of life back then (early 1900s). There are plasma tellys everywhere that have speeches from period characters on a loop and there is a war memorial section as well as a bit on volcanoes. There is also a cool cinema bit where you watch a bit about the formation of Rotorua and one of the worst volcano eruptions ever.
What really cinches it though is the greatest cakes ever. The carrot cake in this museum is worth the price of entry. Not so for the tortilla stack but ignoring that and focusing on the cookies and cake will serve you well. We are not cake novices people. This was good.
Once we had finished with the cake etc. we went round some souvenir shops as Rotorua is famed for them. That night I went to training with ms Christine Young of the ITFNZ. Ill link to my GTUK article when its published rather than rewrite it all here. After training I bought beer and pizza and K and I enjoyed the latter while I enjoyed both back at the campsite. A more successful sort of day we thought!
The next morning we vowed to finally cross off some more Rotorua must sees and must dos from our long list that as we previously explained, the weather kept mucking up dammit. On this day we ticked off the luge, the sky swing, the gondola, Kuirau park, the lumberjack show, baseball batting, waikite thermal springs.
Briefly:
Gondola- essential in order to get to the top of the hill where you will find the swing and the luge. There was nothing special about this gondola trip- Queenstown is much better.
Sky Swing- we got a DVD of this because we were so proud of Kirsty going on it. Unfortunately the dialogue is mundane because we didnt realise it captures audio. If you listen carefully you can hear us both slating people back home. Only joking. We were too busy pooing ourselves.
This is the event itself: Your chance to swing high above Rotorua! The Sky Swing is a thrilling and exhilarating ride, 50 metres above ground level and reaching speeds of up to 120kph. Enjoy spectacular views of Rotorua city and the surrounding lakes, secure in your specially designed safety harness." One of the most amusing things was watching some people get out of their seats, then decide they wanted to ride again at the discounted second ride price and then being referred to the small print which says extra ride must be taken immediately, you cannot leave your seat. Despite there being noone else queuing the bloke wanted full price out of them. What a gimp.
Luge: this luge is comparable to Queenstown though it should be alot better at double the length. The longest track was closed which they neglect to tell you before you buy a ticket to ride. That tells you what you are dealing with. The last luge ride was blogged in detail. Please refer to that and change Queenstown to Rotorua and make it all a bit longer.
Kirau Park: mainly inserted into the schedule due to its being free this was a quick wander around the park that had nice gardens and random bubbling hot springs through it. Warnings not to leave the park abound and the urban legend tells of people burning off the skin on the soles of their feet after straying from the path. That`ll teach em.
Lumberjack Show: top points for weirdness. Mainly geared up for Chinese tourists this show involved axe throwing (I was chosen as an audience member to have a go and royally cocked it up twice though the Chinese contender nearly killed us), carving a rabbit with a chainsaw that turned out to be a chair (the rabbit, not the saw). Log rolling and sexual innuendo finished off the bizarre mix.
Baseball Batting: a machine flings high density foam "baseballs" at you. There really is no need to talk about this. Basically I`m crap, Kirsty laughed and I hit about 4 of 150 of them. Arrrgghh!
Museum: we went back and blagged our way in so we could go up to the rooftop and take a picture (k`s idea), the day before had been so rainy the viewing platform had been closed.
Waikite Thermal Springs: opposite Wai-o-Tapu, possibly NZ`s most famous thermal area is a campsite attached to a thermal pools complex. Pay 13 quid for 2 people to stay in the deserted camp and get free hot pool entry. Cue lounging in pools for 2 hours FOC. Cheers. The camp was completely empty, even the owners went home. It was our first taste of the wilderness albeit with electric lighting in the toilets. Strange.
Wai-O-Tapu is one of the most celebrated thermal areas in New Zealand, its world famous Champagne Pool is even on the front of the Rough Guide to New Zealand that has been our bible.
We woke up at 8.30 and quickly went in the free hot pools again. Nice. Then we drove to Wai-O-Tapu because we wanted to be in time to see the Lady Knox geyser erupt.
The Lady Knox Geyser
In 1901 the first open prison in New Zealand was established at Waiotapu, its object was to accommodate some of the better behaved prisoners from around the jails of the Rotorua Lakes District. As an experiment, under the guidance of forestry experts, these prisoners were required to clear the light bush and scrub from the area and plant trees.
It was a gang of those prisoners who first discovered the clearing in which the geyser is situated and that the bubbling hot water spring could be made to erupt by adding soap. A fact discovered when they first used the hot water to clean their clothes in. Rocks were subsequently placed around the base of the spring to enhance the eruption and over the years silica from the eruptions has built up to give a white cone shaped appearance.
Named after Lady Constance Knox, the daughter of Lord Ranfurly ( 15th Governor of New Zealand) who visited the prison in May 1903, the geyser erupts daily at 10:15am reaching heights of up to 20 metres and can continue to erupt for up to one hour.
After having seen that (sorry for the "major" cut and paste that K is telling me off for- on my birthday of all days) we continued to the Sacred Waters (translation of Waiotapu from Maori). To not really do it credit "Visitors can walk at their own pace and absorb the unique features including the world famous champagne pool, geysers, bubbling mud, steaming ground, expansive vistas, huge volcanic craters and sinter terrace formations"
The one thing this place suffers from is the fact that it blows its own trumpet so hard that you expect a miracle when you get there. In fact the miracle would be if the sky cleared long enough for you to get a picture. Cleverly the colder it gets the more steam is created. Excellent. That aside it certainly does provide some of the most vibrantly coloured scenery we have seen. Some of the rocks look like someone has simply highlighted them with a pack of WHSmith`s neon finest. The black ink pots seems blacker than elsewhere, the craters more like portents of doom and the mud ripples even prettier than any of the other things like it that we have seen thusfar.
After having spent an hour or so walking round and cursing the crappy photography conditions (though after reviewing them we realise that the camera has at least made an effort to capture the vibrancy of the colours) we made our way back to the van.
The next part of the day was spent drinking cupasoup and driving to Taupo. Kirsty had her hair done by the third salon we found while I went to the library to read more back issues of mens health like a sad act. Fully beautified I picked her up again and we drove to Okahune, backpacker base for Mount Ruapehu skiing. The drive was mostly in the dark, outrageously foggy and almost surreal in its insistence on seeming more like a DVLA video entitled "When not to drive at night, you thicko" than anything else. We put our foot down, closed our eyes and eventually got there.
Arriving in Okahune we found a top 10 that looked vaguely like it deserved the title. With a nice tv room and some freaky bloke eating a six pack of yogurts it was more what we were used to. Anyway, the next morning we set out to drive up to Ruapehu, 20km suprisingly enough uphill- clue..Mt.
Halfway there we decided we had no petrol and turned back. Once we had gotten halfway up the second time we accidentally pulled a rather interesting fishtail manoeuver with the van and then drove the rest of the way rather subdued and visually rolling down the side of the mountain in a ball of flame with packets of cupasoups burning around us.
We arrived at the top in one piece. We walked across the car park already regretting having dressed for the north pole rather than a day skiing on a snow field that we fully well knew had not yet got enough snow to open the top fields because it was too hot.
We paid for the beginners course which nets you a 1 hour 50 minute lesson, beginners area lift pass, skis and boots and poles. it took about 45 minutes to get all the kit on and the boots make you feel like Robocop except he didnt have coordination issues.
The lesson was quite good, run by a British girl (Gabby) who had learnt to ski in Austria aged about 3 months. It was made quite entertaining by the two year old son of one of the other workers skiing down on reins held by his dad while we struggled to stand up. Yet again rollerblading wins to make other sports much easier so we got the hang of skiing quite quickly and it was only the lift that posed problems- it was one of those ones you put between your legs and it drags you up rather than it being a chair lift.
The lesson soon came to an end and we had learnt (sort of) to turn, stop, plough etc. We spent a bit more time coming down the hill seeing how far we could push our novice rating (simple answer- not very far). Kirsty fell off getting off the lift as she dismounted too early. I nearly ran into a tractor. We survived till lunch though, I think it was important to us both that we get to eat it. We sat in the car park that was rather more than a car park as it afforded mountain views.
Next we went on the ski lift to the top of the mountain which involved a lift change, a 5 minute walk and about 20 minutes on lifts just to get there. The silence had substance as we kept remarking and therefore ruining it. We took pics and then hastened back down on the lift to enjoy the small amount of time we had left before the lift would stop and the gear would go back.
We passed the next hour and a half very quickly just buzzing up and down the slope wishing there was a bigger run we could try. By the end of the day we were ready to take the bloody (metaphorically speaking) boots off.
We drove back down to Okahune and our camp.
Its probably best to just gloss over the return to Rotorua. A lot of shops, a gym visit in Taupo on the way. A night in a crap campsite that didnt have the tv channel showing bloodsport, a kitchen with a light that turned off automatically if you didnt turn it on every 10 minutes, an oven that caught on fire when we roasted some chicken and the only silver lining of a couple who had tried to climb Kinabalu but one of whom had to turn back due to altitude sickness affording us the perfect opportunity to chant a big fat YES in answer to the question of whether we had made the summit.
Anyway, clutching at straws (if we`d have had any they would have been soaking wet thanks to the bloody constant rain) we decided to go to Waitomo Caves. Again, these are famous. If you werent thick you could go to the North island and not backtrack 400 kilometres in 2 weeks to see Ruapehu, Rotorua and Waitomo which are in a kind of triangle unless I am your navigator in which case they are really in a series of overlapping octagons.
We arrived in Waitomo in time to book into the Top 10 and speak to a nice couple travelling with their 2 year old. They were gamely struggling on through and their daughter was lovely but we think we could sense her relief when she came in to the kitchen later and informed us the daughter was asleep.
The next morning we wanted to do the two cave package which is the glowworm tour:
Your guided tour will take you through over 250 metres of stunning underground scenery commencing with the impressive Cathedral. The acoustics in this particular cavern are world-renowned. Acclaimed New Zealand Diva, Dame Kiri Te Kanawa, has sung here and was delighted with the purity of the sound. Your tour begins at the upper entrance of the cave and proceeds along a low narrow passage to the Tomo, a deep limestone shaft.
Your experienced tour guide will deliver a highly informative commentary about the formations and the history of the area. The highlight of your tour is an unrivalled boat trip through the spectacular Glowworm Grotto.
THE BOAT RIDE
Marvel at Mother Nature`s light display as you glide silently through the starry wonderland of the Glowworm Grotto. Meander underground along the Waitomo River and gaze in silence at the myriad of glowworm lights that make up the Glowworm Grotto. As you enter this galaxy of tiny living lights, you`ll immediately experience a serene ambience and be fascinated and intrigued by tiny glowworms that light your way.
And then the Aranui tour. The glow worm tour was made more fun by the mad guide who`s comedy included classic lines such as "any problems..aside from the usual physical emotional or mental?".
This tour was the best one, there were thousands of glowworms like a mini galaxy on the roof of the pitch black cave. Floating along on the boat gave it a cool atmosphere especially as we were by this time convinced that the guide was quite mad in an endearing way.
Between the walks we went to the Long Black cafe, used the internet, sheltered from the downpour etc. etc.
The Aranui cave walk is:
set in the Ruakuri Scenic Reserve, 5 minutes drive from the Waitomo Glowworm Caves.
It is named after Ruruku Aranui, the local Maori man who first discovered this previously hidden gem back in 1910.
Aranui has a natural cave entrance and is the smallest and most delicate of Waitomo`s three main caves. As a dry cave without a river running through it, it houses very little life past its entrance. However, just inside the entrance is a colony of native New Zealand cave wetas and further into the cave is the most beautiful collection of stalactites, stalagmites, flowstones and decorative formations.
Aranui is a magical, mystical place that is steeped in Maori myth and legend. As such, it occupies a very special place in the hearts of the people of the Waitomo district. Visit soon to see the richly varied cave formations within close-up view and enjoy an experience you will never forget.
The cave was as impressive as the ones we had been to on Kangaroo Island. Basically the blurb says it all so forgive the lack of embellishment.
Once we had finished with the caves we ignored everyone`s warnings and headed to Auckland convinced that it must not be as bereft as backpacker activities as everyone said. Chucklevision to that.
We spent 9 days in Auckland and some of them were better than others lets put it that way. They divide roughly into 3 parts, the first part- wet and irritable, the second, at Mr Banicevich`s informal taekwondo camp, and the third at Fiona/Kate and Griegs house. The first part was when we spent 2 nights in two ridiculously crap camps. We tried to update the blog on a rubbish internet connection that was triple the price it should have been. We stayed at a camp with cockroaches. We got lost, constantly. Basically we just went on the net, were patronised by one of the camp owners, nicked a copy of The Lost World from a campsite library and tried to shelter from the rain.
Part 2 of Auckland was to be a big improvement. Having already trained at a few taekwon-do dojangs, all of a high standard with excellent instructors we decided to go to Mr Mark Banicevich`s class in Glendowie- a short 20 minute drive away from our camp if you are a local, a frustrating hour if you are a tourist.
Mr B nearly killed us in that session but as compensation he and the rest of the club kindly took us out for a Thai meal. The food was good and so was the wine. Before we knew it we were staying at Simon`s house (one of Mr B`s students). That`s right. The man we had met just hours before insisted that we use his spare room and immediately fired off a text to his wife, who, to her credit, didnt seem in the least perturbed by having two strangers to stay at a moments notice. They made us a cup of tea and we chatted for a while before hitting the hay.
Before having hit the hay the night before Mr B, sorry, Mark (!) had emailed Simon to say K and I could stay at his home for the next two nights. This was an extension of our agreement made over that night`s wine that we would go to Master McPhail`s (President of the International Taekwon-do Foundation New Zealand) class the next day. It was Duncan (another of Mr B`s students) who originally offered to drive us but in the end it was Mark who drove us there after we met at his house at 5pm the next day. We had spent the day blogging and eating kebabs as usual and were looking forward to seeing if we were as incapacitated as we felt after the previous evening.
Two hours later and we had met Master McPhail and Mr Pellow, two of the most senior people in ITF-NZ and trained under them for a session. Relieved that everyone was so nice and that we had not died or cocked up too much stuff in the session we relaxed back while Mark drove us all home in the rain.
Arriving back at the Banicevich`s Michelle (Mark`s wife) had been busy cooking an awesome dinner which we devoured after showering. We watched some DVDs and listened to some music after finishing the apple crumble and icecream. And the Baileys. It was slightly strange to be sitting in Mark`s house drinking his beer after having sweated around his dojang the night before- there is always going to be fear when training at a new dojang let alone one in another country run by a fifth degree but then staying at the instructors house can really freak you out but Mark and Michelle really put us at ease and they were excellent hosts.
We nearly collapsed into bed at the end of the night (about 1am!) feeling sorry for Mark who claimed he had to be up early for work.
The next day was spent hogging the Banicevich`s internet connection for the day and trying to blog even more. Michelle went out to buy material and hit the bakery on the way back. We all agreed that sticky buns and cheese rolls were the way to fuel up for training that night. Yes, the third night in a row. Slightly stiff and slightly the worse for wear we trained anyway. I won`t reblog it here as I already wrote it up for the GTUK and Ill link it here when its up. The outcome was that we were even more tired than we thought possible by the end but as usual we thoroughly enjoyed training and appreciated the chance to get back into it again, however briefly.
We expected microwave dinners that night as Mark and Michelle had done more than us that day but no, we had more beers and then homemade pizza, and not the sort of crappy I-bought-the-base-from-tesco-and-added-dolmio-sauce-so-its-like-a-real-italian-dude sort of pizza but a real block and a half of cheese sundried tomatoes and all sorts of other yummy stuff on a homemade base sort of pizza. Badass.
Re-collapsing into bed we fell straight asleep. That seemed to be the theme at Mark and Michelle`s. Excellent food, hard training and then a couple of drinks- followed by an ungraceful collapse into bed and 8 hours hard snoring.
The next morning we had breakfast and chatted to Michelle for a while after Mark had disappeared to work (sorry Mark but even as I use your first name as requested I still think Mr Banicevich...). Michelle was lovely in that if it had been us I think we would have left the door open for our guests to get the hell out after they had eaten us out of house and home for 48 hours and done nothing to help. However she seemed quite happy for us to stay and chat her day away. Feeling slightly guilty remembering just how much of their stuff we had eaten, drunk or slept in we said our goodbyes and left.
We would like to thank you two again and Simon and Alison if you are reading this- your hospitality and friendliness was really appreciated. Frankly we were bloody sick of the van by that point and the time at your houses gave us a real boost. As did your beer Mark...
Please do come and see us in the UK!
Having left the Banicevich`s and realised the advantages of freeloading (better food, free alcohol, fresh towels etc.) we headed for the internet cafe to blog and then to Parnell to meet Fiona- Kirsty`s former student and long time gal pal. Fiona lives with Kate and Grieg. Kate is Fiona`s travelling accomplice and Grieg is Fiona`s bloke. No idea why you need to know all that but still, this blog is nothing if not thorough.
Fiona had pulled a supposedly justified sickie from work so she was unexpectedly home when we accidentally found the house. Somewhat too laid back from travelling we decided simply knowing the name of her road and the suburb was enough to find her house without directions. 5 circles of Parnell later we realised it wasnt and got a nice Scottish lady to tell us where it was.
We parked in their private underground garage and swiped through the electronic doors on the way out of the elevator and past the gym and pool. We realised at this point that they obviously had a rather sweet set up. Once in the flat we sat drinking tea and admiring the laminate flooring and the space.
That night we had a chinese takeaway and met Grieg after he finished his shift as a chef for that night. A few drinks all round and a merry old time was had by all. An airbed on the floor concluded that nights entertainment and a blissful nights sleep ensued, we knew we would sleep well, Mark had seen to that!
On the Saturday we sat about watching it rain after Grieg had cooked us breakfast- good eggs! After Grieg had disappeared off to work I went to the gym while the girls do whatever girls do when they are alone and I enjoyed having my rowing technique corrected by some porker who was obviously carrying at least 7 stone of excess weight and even had the gall to say "its been a while since Ive done it myself, but I still know how it should be done" when I looked at him after his impromptu speech. What makes these people think I care?
Anyway, back at the house we made a break for it when the rain stopped and walked to the museum. We had had enough of the house after looking through photos for what seemed like hours. Good photos dont get me wrong. We walked past a subway (6 inch on wheat for the gym rat please) and through the botanical gardens. We briefly enjoyed the museum before being ejected into the rain by a gung ho security team who decided that closing time meant they could strut their stuff.
We took a taxi back as it was hammering it. Suprise!
That night we went out for a rather tasty pizza and then to a bar. Then to Danny O`Tools or something like that where the band demanded applause and we nearly got suffocated in the crowd getting to the bogs. Despite these short comings and the fact that they didnt know how to play "The Man Who Sold the World" we enjoyed ourselves until 4am and then went to sleep.
The next morning Grieg disappeared off to work and we all went for a little shopping spree, a muffin and a view of the Viaduct. That night we had a lasagne and just sat about while I tried to upload Taekwon-do pictures. And we had pavlova. Delicious.
On our last day we rented a car (sans Grieg who was working as usual) and went to some hot pools which distinguished themselves by having no less than 10 waterslides. Very cool.
We had lunch there, did a beach walk on the way home and then dropped the car off. By the time we got back the kitten Fiona was minding had clawed the airbed to death so it was lucky Kate was on a nightshift and we had her bed. We passed that eve drinking and eating toast. Before those happy activities we had a cottage pie and even before that we cleaned out the van which took friggin ages. Later on Grieg came home and we discovered a cake in the fridge. The rest is history.
On our last morning in Auckland we sank to a new low. I rang people at 6.30am having gone to sleep at 2am after too much beer. We got lost dropping the van off and were scared of checking in as we had about 50 kilos of luggage and the limit is normally 40. Eventually we dropped the van, went to the post office to post parcels, caught a taxi which fortunately is only 5 bucks more than a crappy shuttle bus and arrived at the airport in plenty of time.
Bricking it while checking in we discovered we were on a two bag ticket so we could check all our crap in without a hitch. We had just enough cash left in NZ dollars to buy a Subway and we made sure to buy some Fiji dollars too.
By this time we were shattered, hung over, penniless and ready to fly. Luckily for us we werent flying home to a Monday morning at work. We were flying to Fiji. This site is called get jealous for a reason...
A very large thankyou to Fiona Kate and Grieg for the hosting. The breakfasts were good, the company was better and thanks to Kate we now know how to look cool in our photos ;-)
Thank-you for the birthday card- Kirsty tried to nick my sweets but she was not quick enough. Yum Yum. Enjoy travelling when it rolls around. I hope you will email us as promised just to rub it in!
Coming to you live from downtown Tijuana, thats Mexico for the geographically challenged, we are risking theft, kidnapping and attack from concrete cows painted as zebras and dressed in stockings to bring you this live update.
The flight to the USA was crap, sorry but theres no two ways about it. Pacific Air is a rubbish company that provides awful, inadequate food, broken tv screens and turns all the lights off as soon as you board. It also claims that the flight is oversubscribed and tells you you might not be seated together but then when you get on the plane you find over 20 seats vacant after takeoff. Losers. Alternating between the depths of winter and the heights of summer all on one long plane ride we slept as much as possible, ie about 2 hours out of 10.5. We dont like to get snobby but roll on the BA flights!
Anyway, we took off at 10pm and landed at 2.30pm the same day. We opted for the VISA Waiver program which says you can opt out of getting a VISA but if they dont like the look of you you can shove off and you have no right of appeal. Despite speaking in scary voices border security were nice to us and we got through customs with no problem.
Next item on the agenda was to pick up the car. We took the free shuttle and went to see Willie the large, old black dude who was manning the customer services. Reassured that Old Willie is goin´ fix you right up, we were told that we couldnt have the car for as long as we wanted and that 30 days in to the US trip we need to ring and possibly return the car and be left stranded forever. Finally we made it to the car park and chose a badass ponitac G6 see http://www.edmunds.com/insideline/do/Drives/FullTests/articleId=104376 for a picture. We are already wondering if we should have taken a smaller car as it moves like a tank albeit a sporty one and drinks petrol. It looks cooler than a PT Cruiser though and thats what counts.
We drove to the hotel, only going on the wrong side of the road once and luckily without incident. Lets make it clear right now that LA is a very bad place to drive. Everyone is freakin crazy, its sprawled over such a distance that its known as 21 suburbs in search of a city and everywhere you look are dented cars, crashes, massive SUVs on monster truck tyres and stretch hummers.
Having checked in to Motel6 and admired the ice machine and cable we were somewhat suprised to find out we had missed a 5.6 earthquake by 8 hours and it was all over the tv news channels. That held our attention for about 2 minutes and then we went for a walk to the 7-11 and then Subway. Kirsty argued for us to walk to Subway as we were knackered and its a good job she did, halfway there as we walked down the side of the usual 10 lane LA highway we saw a massive crash as one SUV blindsided another and then immediately raced off with a screeching of rubber swiftly followed by the crashee.
Subway was awesome. They have feta cheese and spinach here. And a footlong is only 2 quid 60 with tax. We have had at least 9 subways in the last 5 days. After Subway we went back to the hotel, did our washing, watched Family Guy on Adult Swim and then went to sleep thank god.
The next day we went to the tourist information office in Hollywood. Piece of advice, do not, under any circumstances try to get anywhere in America without an extremely precise map. Otherwise it might take you 3 hours to drive 10 kilometres and that would be annoying. 3 hours later we parked at the Hollywood and Highland Mall, )home of the academy awards) and got a new crappy map from tourist info. After that we set about finding Walmart despite being assured that there wasnt one in LA )turns out 4 hours later that there is one just 20kms from Hollywood. It was dark by the time we got to Walmart which is spread over 6 floors. We got all our camping stuff including a 6 man tent which is 6 feet tall inside in the middle and then we made the best purchase ever. We got Mandy for just 70 quid. National car rental would have pimped mandy to us for 125 quid and we would have had to return her after 2 months. Walmart sold us Mandy and her windscreen mounting for 70. Now wherever we want to go Mandy finds the route and then we imagine we can hear the desperation in her automaton voice as we proceed to bugger up the lanes. She can even find ATMs and Subway. Awesome.
KIRSTY WANTS ME TO MAKE IT CLEAR THAT MANDY IS OF COURSE A SAT NAV- WE DONT HAVE A 70 DOLLAR HOOKER MOUNTED ON THE WINDSCREEN WITH AN ENDLESS SUPPLY OF MAPS IN HER G`STRING AND A FONDNESS FOR 5 DOLLAR FOOTLONGS. SAID THE ACTRESS TO THE BISHOP. BOOM BOOM
That night we stayed in another crappy motel as it was nearly midnight and Motel6 was full. We are pretty certain that there was a genuine crack ho in the carpark and we bolted the door. At 4am we woke up to a braying fire alarm and then we slept through till 11am thereby missing the free brekkie.
Today was another great driving day though Mandy promptly found a state park campground conveniently located just 40 miles outside the city. Woohoo. We checked in though it said full on the outside, pitched our tent on the dusty ground despite the near 37 degree heat and promptly regretted not buying the electric airbed pump.
Once pitched we headed back to town and cruised about pointlessly. We ended up on the internet to look for campsites in San Diego and then briefly watched Mariah Carey perform in the mall. Then we had to rush back to the campsite as the gate shuts at 10pm. And we were slighty tired by this time. Estimates put our driving time in the first 3 days at somewhere around 20 hours. Fun fun.
The next day was what we regard as our first proper day in the USA. A trip to universal studios. For just 70 quid for two people you get the whole day including a space in Jurassic Parking and all you can eat food. Nice one. Its a studio tour but its also a themeparky type place. As they would have it,
Find a full day of action-packed entertainment all in one place: Universal Studios Hollywood.
With thrilling park rides and shows, a real working movie studio and L.A`s best shops, restaurants and all-new cinemas at CityWalk, Universal Studios Hollywood is a unique experience that`s fun for the whole family.
All this and more, only at Universal Studios Hollywood, The Entertainment Capital of L.A.
After the huge queues and the exciting experience of the misting fans they have everywhere here to counteract the shocking heat we wandered into the park and thoroughly enjoyed being overwhelmed with the explosion of colour and noise and bloody kids as we would affectionately refer to them all day. First stop was the set from Notting Hill for a picture of K outside the bookshop, pics later that day would include one with the Hulk, one on the bike from Terminator, Scooby Doo, Jason Bourne, Appollo 13 etc.
We had something to eat at Mel´s Diner which achieved the impossible of ruining a chicken burger. Anyway, we then went on the Shrek 4D ride which includes vibrating and tilting seats that spray water on you when Donkey sneezes toward you. It was excellent as was mostly everything at the park, funny how millions and millions and millions of dollars can produce such fun!
After Shrek we went to do the Studio tour which was, in our new American parlance, freakin sweet dude. You board a tram and then it winds its way round the backlot of Universal starting out rather craply outside a load of soundstages that look like warehouses where they reel off who has and is filming there. Once down to the proper backlot though we saw the sets of Desperate Housewives, the Grinch, Psycho complete with knife wielding weirdo, Jaws including the mechanical shark eating a dummy and turning the water red. We also saw the downed 747 from War of the Worlds which was the most shocking and realistic which you might expect as it is a genuine 747 they had hoisted in. We also saw how some of the fast and the furious stunts were done with cars on hydraulic arms dancing about and fake gunshots and fire everywhere.
Before that we saw a man doing a stunt with a front flip, a roll and then he turns back to where he comes from and fires a handgun twice at something off camera. Then the tram went down into a fake underground station in which the roof collapses and a full size truck slides down and into the side of the tram, well, almost. Then the train itself comes flying out of the darkness skidding on its side. Everything sets on fire and all of us generally pooed our pants. The live power lines that were downed followed by a burst water pipe from somewhere above us didnt help. It was very very well executed and worth the entry fee for that alone.
Once we had finished in there we stopped in old mexico where we were shown how they create a flash flood and a rainstorm which was exciting. Then it was a drive back round to the Mummys tomb where the car seemed to revolve.
Eventually we got back to the tram station amidst the cries of awesome mom! from all the kids who at that point had not got under our feet enough to become the bloody kids.
We rushed off to see the animal actors show where the dogs, birds, monkeys, pigs, rats and ferrets were paraded about by the animal trainer who worked on Evan Almighty.
TO BE CONTINUED!
Leaving New Zealand to go to Fiji felt like waking up on Christmas morning. New Zealand was a great place but living in a van for 8 weeks, the last 3 of which were constantly interrupted by driving rain began to drag us down a bit. The whole getting-a-bucket-and-filling-it-with-the-cutlery-and-the-crockery-and-did-you-remember-the-washing-up-liquid thing was getting pretty old so the idea of relaxing on beaches here (http://www.fiji.islands-resorts.com/resorts_ex.cfm?Memberid=387), here (http://www.mantarayisland.com/) and here (www.oarsmansbay.com) aswell as enjoying eating out morning, noon and night unsuprisingly made us feel like kicking the whole New Zealand thing to the curb and getting on with what travelling is all about- less mud, more sand, less washing up more ridculously cheap food, less hiking boots and more snorkel. You know what we mean.
Having spent the last of the time in New Zealand having a good natured argument with the taxi driver who like all taxi men is actually a closet philosopher labouring for the man, downtrodden yet somehow in his wisdom he knows that the best way to make up for the difficulty all cab drivers have earning a living is to spend 3 quarters of his time talking to his mates in a car park and eating microwave sausage rolls. Finally in response to a thinly veiled call to aid that will probably have headhunters for Amnesty International trying to employ him as chief copy writer for their begging letters we tipped him five dollars and huddled in the airport waiting for "cerulean" seas and fiji time to begin.
When we landed Fiji greeted us with a blast of hot air as the plane door opened and we grinned widely as we walked into the airport knowing in advance that as with all ex British colonies a Brit passport would mean a fast track through customs with no difficult questions or sniffer dogs attacking our bags because they had once contained fruit. Once outside the airport we settled in to a ride to Stoneycreek (http://www.stoneycreekfiji.net/). Six dogs greeted us from the taxi all of which were quite lovely, and we enjoyed a welcome drink at the deserted bar, sticking to soft drinks as usual as the not-actually-free-of-charge welcome drink is a classic in this type of place. It was free though we later found out. Once settled in to our love shack which was more shack than love to be fair we went down to dinner.
Before dinner we admired the views of the mountains from our verandah and it should be noted that at the time we thought the ls was brilliant. It was only when we were upgraded once during that stay (thanks to Kirsty complaining loudly about the cold showers and frogs) and then on our final night in Fiji when we stayed in a little suite that we realised that the adequate love shack is way down the list of what Stoney Creek can actually provide.
The best thing about SC is the food. That night we had curry, poppadums, a little molded half moon of pilau rice, tomato chutney and a drink each. Kirsty is at this moment muttering "it was lovely" under her breath so you can see that the memory has stayed with us. And that we are enduring our current hunger at 9.16pm not having yet had dinner to bring you this update.
Anyway, thoroughly exhausted from the flight and the thought of the 29 days of relaxation to come we fell into bed. The next day we got up and were pleasantly suprised by a free breakfast. Then we headed to Lautoka (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lautoka) a nice little city up the coast. its recommended as a tourist shopping destination as Nadi (pronounced Nandi) is the sort of tourist trap that one expects to encounter in an airport city. Anyway, the day dawned bright and clear and we set off to the bottom of the drive to catch the local bus.
This was an outright pleasure. Stoney Creek sits at the base of the Sabeto mountains (pronounced Sambeto) and is surrounded by green undulating fields which actually limit the view as they undulate so exuberantly. Anyway, the ground is made of a sort of compacted mud scorched nearly orange by the sun with random large potholes left from the rains and large stones embedded in it to ease the passage of the bus.
The buses are straight out of a lilt advert. large, old, rumbling diesel contraptions they often have no windows (this is intentional) and have old wooden seats with foam padding. They are invariably filled with large fijian women in bright clothes with super afro hair. As Kirsty would often point out, her hair was the only one blowing in the wind. I cultivated a Fiji afro over the month so my style held its own against the breeze.
We noticed with some amusement the tactics to gain a seat which included the use of an ample behind and a loud huffing noise from one lady which made the other lady already seated scoot over at last and we missed the chance to see our first Fijian rumble.
The bus bounced along the unpaved roads past a school with its own Hindu temple, past the fields of sugar cane and finally onto the paved road where it made smooth progress into lautoka. Once in Lautoka and armed with the safety information from Stoney Creeks owner Michelle we crept around expecting to be ambushed at any moment until we realised that noone really cared too much who we were and that we would have a much better time if we ignored the safety talk. Case in point, there is a lady in a car who will ask you for change. Shell give you a 5 dollar note. You give her 5 ones. Then she says she gave you a 50 and that you owe her 45 dollars. Apparently this causes a lot of problems. Surely though any normal traveller would just say no in the first place...? Anyway, we got on ok, a curt no and a brisk exit being all that is needed to avoid most problems. I am far more worried about being accosted in the USA than I was about being hoodwinked by some sort of Derren Brown of the Fijian world. Shazam.
The focal point of our visit to Lautoka was a casual look at the racks of greasy second hand clothes sold at Value City. After trying on several 1 pound fifty t-shirts in the worlds dirtiest bathroom I decided to blow 15 quid on a new wardrobe, one which I have now replaced with walmart 2 quid t-shirts. At the time though they were the epitome of style. Some nice shirts can be had as they will sell anything from someones old work shirt with Lautoka Mushroom Co. or whatever on it right through to Bolton Wanderers and POLICE t-shirts.
After having shopped for this loot we ate lunch at "Jolly Good" which lived up to its name and even surpassed Value City in the dirties toilet in the world stakes. Kirsty could not even go in hers though I ate my lunch in one of them. Not really.
We walked to the beach, or rather the wall that holds back the sea at K`s insistence and enjoyed lolling on a bench until a menacing tramp led us to rememebr important business elsewhere. The selection of an ATM took time as stories abound of people all but hung drawn and quartered while innocently withdrawing a tenner. Eventually we took another rickety bus home which punctured its tyre halfway and led to a fun half hour watching the driver and the local cabbies jumping up and down on the wrench they used to change the tyre. They even banged the new one with a hammer to get the road dust off it as it lives under the bus normally and had collected an impressive caking of orange dirt.
Once home we enjoyed tuna cajun wraps with rather a nice amount of cheese on and then retired once more to our love shack where we listened to the frogs and their enjoyable nightly antics.
The next morning we were upgraded to a very nice bure which we put down to kirstys loud shrieking ("in cold terror") in the cold shower that is within earshot of the managers office. Good job I say. Even nicer mountain views and a hot shower were nice bonuses. A more comfortable bed too. Very nice indeed. We read our books outside for a bit and then had cajun chicken salad for dinner. Once finished we walked to the garden of the sleeping giant (google for more info) which is a big orchid garden basically set around the base of the mountains about a 2 hour walk away through the cane fields and across a little river. This is probably our most enduring memory of fiji, we saw a lot of locals going about their day and despite Michelle slightly forceful warnings to not turn left or right nor to respond to people we remained unmolested and unharmed except by some over eager guard dogs that barked loudly but only from a disctance,
The garden itself was not really any great shakes but again the walk back after the complimentary fruit punch was nice, we saw a fijian man walking two oxen along to plough his field in the light of a setting sun, kids walking home from school and plenty of pickup trucks with farm workers on the back who never missed the chance to yell BULA (hello, literally, life) and give us a 5 second fijian lesson as they rolled and bumped out of sight around the latest bend in the dirty orange road.
Back at Stoney Creek we settled in for our last night, we took pics of the nice sunset, drank tea from our room`s complimentary stash and then ate beef curry. Most pleasant.
We left SC in the morning with our large suitcases and our white skin looking completely inconspicuous. For an hour. Fiji time! The bus arrived finally and we boarded and the driver apparently overcharged us (we would be told at the connection bus stop about this horrible daylight robbery) by 10 cents (about 3p).
The bus rumbled along in its usual lilt advert fashion all the way to Nadi, the aforementioned tourist trap where apparently a sword seller will take your head off if you refuse to buy something or yet again you`ll somehow get mugged for something, honestly people (well, certain people) you need to Chillax man, seriously.
We wandered around looking lost and like targets ripe for a mugging or street beating, managed to avoid both and took a restaurant recommendation from the man selling the bus tickets. We dragged the cases through a supermarket, round the corner and up two flights of stairs before settling in for rotis and curries. They were as good as expected from a place called The Healthy Hash Cafe.
We boarded the bus to Suva though we would be getting off before then, the driver started to introduce us quickly to the other type of Fiji bus...
Usually with a brightly decorated dash board, including but not limited to extra neon lights, gearstick covers, extra mirrors, large PUMA or NIKE stickers, garlands of flowers and other paraphenalia the driver would be a complete rudeboy or Yardie looking geezah and would always put pumping drum and bass on. Which was nice.
The bus went straight past Korotogo which was to be expected as we had explicitly asked for it to stop there and we had to make him stop the bus and then take another express bus from the other side of the road back to the roundabout from which we had another kilometre to walk to Vakaviti, our cheap accommodation for the night. The brightsparks there have landscaped it into the side of a hill so the first treat you get is a struggle up the drive where the owner may or may not have strewn a variety of lethal looking tools and gardening equipment some of which you fully expect to see the blades still rotating on.
Having humped your bags over these wires while he looks more likely to ride a giraffe to the moon than offer to get the hell out of the way youll get to reception and promptly drag them 100 yards back down the hill to your accommodation.
The accommodation was excellent. It backed out onto the pool and had a private little set of steps to the poolside, we had our own kitchen, bathroom and big bed + fans etc. All very good indeed. We jumped straight in the pool and had a bit of a suprise when it turned out the pool was home to about a billion ravenous mozzies which descended upon us so ferociously that at least one of us screamed and both of us ran back into the room and made do with a shower.
Repellented up we had dinner at the ICE BAR which is named that for no discernable reason but made decent enough curry and its little shop sold us eggs for the morning. We congratulated ourselves on making it back to the hotel and then played SCRABBLE for a while before bed.
The next day was to be an exciting one. We made eggs on toast for breakfast and then walked to the kula eco park. http://www.fijiwild.com/. On the way we met a crazy brit who gave us directions and a Fijian man who told me I had nice eyes. Cheers.
Upon arriving at the Kula eco park the friendly Fijian lady put a banded iguana on Kirsty`s head before she could even move. Nice. Then added a couple on her shoulders for effect. We also held a baby boa which tried to kill us in an amusing display of baby constricteriness, cute then but I wouldnt want to let it have another go in a couple of years.
We walked round the park which consisted mainly of avaries, some of which you could go into. What strikes you as you travel is how bereft of wildlife England is. Exotic wildlife that is. Plenty of mice and pigeons but no cool parrots or giant bats or other shrieking brightly coloured birds. It rained on the way round but only in a cooling mist type way. At the end of the park we almost ran back to catch the feeding of the baby turtles which K particularly enjoyed though we both thought putting them in a proper tank would improve the atmosphere rather than the giant stone barrel they use. Turtles enjoy both Spinach and Fish. Just FYI.
We walked back again to the end of the park and looked round the tiny gardens. We took the elevated walkway back to the start which looked down on the river and we read about how the park can flood quite frequently. It started to rain more heavily so we waited for it to stop a bit and then walked back. The rain is normally pretty warm in Fiji so its not too unpleasant to walk in it.
On the way back we had dinner at what seemed like a nice place which will have to remain nameless as I accuse it of being run by the minions of Satan. Thanks for the food poisoning! That night was spent firstly with agonising stomach cramps and then later I got to play scrabble before then succumbing to the need to stay within 5cm of a toilet bowl for both sitting and kneeling purposes. Cool man!
The next day (or for some of us, later that same day) we boarded the transfer bus to the Beachhouse. I sat queasily and somewhat tiredly but K was there to prop me up and look suitable serious at my increasingly poor condition. After checking in at the Beachhouse I went to check out my new toilet block which had a 5 inch cockroach on the ceiling which plenty of British tourists were photographing before I collapsed into bed and went to sleep for a few hours.
We sat in the hammocks at lunch time and had a sandwich. The beach was pretty despite being cloudy and the breeze and rain were refreshing. Unfortunately I was not up to much so we watched She`s the Man and then used the internet. As I recovered a bit K got worse and worse so she went to sleep very early.
My birthday was a bit of a washout. It rained pretty much all day though we managed a go on some horses with Eddie the local man. The horses were called Misty and Beauty though it would not suprise me to learn that Eddie makes up new names for them daily.
We walked up a muddy hill after a hair raising walk around the beach and headland. The horses did their best not to slide about too much and I could tell mine was thinking why did I get the fat one while Kirsty`s laughed in its face.
After a happy horseride Kirsty went to sleep. Of course before that I opened my many lovely presents and took a picture with them all. I am wearing my NO SLOGAN t-shirt today.
I went for the worlds most crappy massage while K slept (I am being accused of moaning again but I would like to point out that in Phimei the old Thai grandmother who asked me if I wanted it soft medium or hard did in fact deliver the worlds best massage- for 2 hours, she was part healer, part Hulk Hogan disciple right down to the elbow drop. The Fiji massage on the other hand was the boring kind with no screaming or terrible pains).
When the masseuse finished her work K woke to the scones and teatime and then we had dinner bit later. I managed a glass of wine and K had a milkshake. We were still feeling a bit delicate and so we pretty much just went to bed! Exciting I know.
The next day was the last day at the beachhouse and I made up for the day before by sitting in a hammock getting sneakily pissed on Fiji bitter and periodically buying chips and chocolate from the bar which Kirsty received with faint protests but then polished off. We read for about 5 hours which was perfect. That night I played Killer pool and did quite well but not quite well enough. We met some people from St James, Wellingborough and Overstone which was weird but they were quite good lads to chat to so all in all we had quite a good night.
The next day it was sunny for the first time at the beachhouse so we had breakfast at a table on a private little balcony overlooking the beach and then went on the big swing they have hung from a palm tree that lets you swing out over the water.
After breakfast we transferred to the Raintree Lodge and dodgy old Suva town where yet again, despite the dire warnings from all quarters we managed to not be held hostage in a cellar for weeks being beaten with stale rotis. We actually had quite a nice time. No doubt we`ll be mugged tonight now for laughing in the face of danger in Fiji. Never mind eh?
hello
new photos are being posted on snapfish as we speak. check out the following latest albums (if the internet cafe stays open long enough...)
Vegas Baby!
Grand/Zion/Bryce canyons + Death Valley
More Hollywood and Beverly Hills
San Diego and Tijuana
ps I have actually written another two weeks worth of Fiji blog which will be posted as soon as I can free up some space on my SD cards...
J + K xx
Naturally it was nice and sunny with a perfect blue sky on our last morning at the beachhouse but with typical traveling induced good humour we took advantage of the appearance of the sun by eating breakfast beachside and having a go on the big swing that someone had clearly nicked off the set of a Bounty advert. It was a pleasant change to not see grey skies, as we would continue to realize tropical weather is a two way street and Fiji is famous for clouds in the East and sun in the West. Luckily we were heading West.
It comes as no surprise that the cheapest, most comfortable and fastest method of transportation is frowned upon by the guidebooks as unreliable and dangerous. Having left Kirsty alone by the roadside for moments while I used the toilet I came back to find her in negotiations with one of the suspiciously clean and honest looking minivan drivers. We agreed a good price and he was theatrically disappointed with our harsh bargaining. It turned out later that we did pay a pittance even by local standards and though on the one hand we felt good that we saved 20p we also felt a bit bad that he probably couldn’t afford to eat lunch that day thanks to our forcing him to lower his prices.
We disembarked at the Raintree Lodge, the typical Fijian hideaway that you and 45 million other lonely planet readers have earmarked as the new paradise. In fairness it was a nice place, constructed entirely of wood with a restaurant and deck overlooking a dingy lake which we discovered was an old quarry 55 feet deep complete with old diggers etc. slowly decomposing on the bed of the lake. Eerie yet somehow charming.
We had a little room with a shared verandah and were quite pleased with it. As soon as we had checked out the showers which would run brown later in the week we decided to pop out for a bit. We caught a lift into Suva with a woman who we thought worked at the Lodge but in the end was simply a friendly stranger.
Suva is renowned for being a hive of violent criminal activity where each ATM is guarded by a security man wielding a huge hunk of wood that not even the most naïve among us would describe as a baton. Anyway we were on holiday and hence immune to danger…muggings, beatings, drug crime etc. etc. yaddah yaddah yaddah whatever man, we’re Northamptonians. Unfazed, we continued on our merry way.
Once in the center of town we wiped the stink of fear from our brows and set about enjoying ourselves at the museum. It was in a park, we walked through some gardens to get there and tried not to wander off the paths as that’s not recommended either. The museum was pretty interesting though we had already enjoyed many an explanation of Polynesian culture in New Zealand so some of the stuff wasn’t too exciting for us. The exhibition of the missionary’s shoes was amusing. The rubber soles of the man’s shoes were all that remained of him after he offended a chief by touching his comb thereby signining his own death warrant.
We walked from the museum to the bus stop after taking some pictures of the clock tower that’s outside. The bus station was an amusing caricature of a bus station with a dingy shack selling chocolate and Bombay mix along with curry wraps and bottles of water. There were men with baskets of other foods wandering about, strong looking young men jogging around with their wheelbarrows trying to make a few dollars by ferrying people’s bags and boxes around.
The usual Fijian buses, some with windows, most without and all looking like they were fresh off a 1985 production line rumbled in and out, normally passing within inches of each other, splashing through puddles and making you aware of the delicacy of your lungs as they churned out fumes.
We tried to pronounce our destination correctly with a complete lack of linguistic skill. Eventually an off duty bus driver dragged us round to the correct bus and ushered us on. It was the usual pimped out ride that Xzibit would be proud to show off- garlands of flowers and a leather cover on the gear shift- two loud and proud PUMA logo posters in the windscreen and various other special touches.
To pass the time we ate sweets and I offered some to the little girl behind me who turned out to be a little boy, oops.
That night we had tea and met an old man fromRugby. Dinner was always a pleasant, if slightly overpriced affair at the Raintree Lodge. The fairy lights and the deck made it seem ok to pay 10% over the odds for everything and the food quality was very high.
We also spent some time mulling over the fate of another british couple who had gone for a walk in the forest park. Its such a pleasant park that you are recommended to take a guard with you (preferably armed). Unless of course that armed guard is actually in cahoots with the muggers which is known to occur. For some reason the brit couple still thought it would be pleasant to go for a stroll and when they didn’t turn up to dinner we wondered which 55 feet deep former quarry they were now at the bottom of sporting brand new concrete sandals.. They did show up the next day which was a relief.
The next day we got up too late to fish in the lake. We saw the brits at breakfast and then took the bus into Suva to book our ticket to Levuka. Patterson Brothers Shipping operates a passenger/freight ferry that costs 35 quid for two return. It is based in a charmingly soulless office that reminded me of some of the less appealing employment agencies I have been in. However, unlike Crappola Personnel of Abington St. this place had a rather fantastic Chinese restaurant downstairs. We enjoyed a delicious dinner there for about 2 quid. Afterwards we walked to the parliament buildings only to regret buying an ambiguous lonely planet instead of a straightforward rough guide. We thought you could look around but obviously not. We did get invited to tea by a stranger but by that point the Lonely Planet paranoia had saturated our day and we practically ran away from the poor bloke. The pissing rain really helped cheer us up. We then walked the 30 minutes back to town via a supposedly appealing blue and white painted church which we discovered had recently been given a fresh coat of all over grey. Wonderful
We had another enjoyable dinner once I finished getting showered and bitten by a weird hairy caterpillar. I left the towel on the balcony and the offender had inched its way onto the towel and then stuck there until I wrapped my towel around me. Naturally it hit me in the most invonvenient place but luckily Kirsty’s hysterical laughter wasn’t followed by my thudding to the floor disabled by a lethal caterpillar bite. Which would have served her right for laughing as far as I was concerned.
Somehow we ended up watching Universal Soldier, a poor film even by Jean Claude Van Damme’s standards. Maybe if he spent less time avoiding meat and dairy and yet still taking coke his standards might be a little bit higher.
LEVUKA
Levuka is the old capital of Fiji located on Ovalau- an island off the West coast of Viti Levu (the name of the main bit of Fiji). To get there you simply take a bus to Suva, then a bus to Natovi Landing (3 hrs) then a ferry for a couple of hours (nice ferry, large with hardly anyone on board but with the obligatory kids toting wicker baskets full of hot rotis for 20p. Be rude not to really.
Before we caught the bus we returned to the cheapo Chinese restaurant and had some serious stir fry. Then it was off to the pot holey bus station to catch a pimp-out-bad-ass bus.
Once off the ferry it’s a quick bus ride to Levuka where it was getting dark by the time we got off. Beverley, the lady who gave us directions to the Royal Hotel (oldest hotel in Fiji and something of a local institution- the Lonely Planet reckons its got a colonial atmosphere you could cut with a cane knife) would later become our friend as she is the definition of friendliness and has the endearing Fijian trait of wanting you to come and stay at her house- preferably immediately and certainly for a meal or 10.
The Royal Hotel is certainly an interesting spot, as you will come to hear in the following pages. The Whales Tale was the restaurant of choice for that night. Levuka’s main drag is a series of shops and restaurants that look like they are emulating a spaghetti western. The PAFCO tuna plant dominates the east end of the town and anyone who doesn’t work there is generally employed in service industry for the workers, hence why a tiny town could support 5 restaurants on the main street. The Whales Tale served great stir-fry along with some not quite so inspiring fare.
We retired for the evening to the Royal which is set back from the road down a little lane. Though you have to wander the streets in the dark in Levuka quite often it does feel surprisingly safe. One theme common to traveling is that sometimes being a tourist is the best thing for you…locals know that tourists mean money and people who mug tourists are vilified as they damage the local economy.
The Royal Hotel was fabulous in that it was in fact very colonial, enormous and tending toward becoming slightly dilapidated. Constructed of wood and then whitewashed, presided over by a hugely camp Fijian man guarding it for his parents. The staff are famously lax but the place itself is luxurious in a poundstretcher style. Enormous rooms interlink, each stuffed with sofas and with large knives adorning the walls.
Unfortunately the rooms are slightly more poundstretcher than we would have liked but nevertheless they were impressive. At some point the rooms were converted to having a closed in balcony with large swinging wooden shutters that open vertically and have to be propped open tree house style. The shower was a joke, the water runs around the hotels pipes in a random manner and must spurt out somewhere but not, it seems, from the showerheads.
The furniture in the rooms was mainly wooden, in that deep grandmother’s bedroom shade of brown that makes the origin of the wood uncertain. The mozzie nets and ancient beds completed the look. Thank heavens we’ve got 4 days here we thought as we fell asleep. And woke up constantly through the night as every other guest tramped past our room either bellowing on a mobile or walking in the hallway as though they were coated in concrete and testing out a series of pogosticks, each more inefficient than the last. Tossers.
The next day would set the scene for the rest of our stay in Levuka- an extremely laid back waste of time centering about the conspicuous consumption of food, the planning of the next meal and an obligatory nod toward not behaving like an eating, sleeping and chatting machine that has been left in Levuka to do nothing but run its basic functions in between checking Facebook.
That morning we began to enjoy ourselves immediately with a bowel of homemade muesli in a little café called Kim’s place- it was full of polished wood tables and had a little balcony almost fully surrounded by shuttered windows.
After we ate we enjoyed looking at the market stalls sprawled along the main street. No doubt the people who were selling the vegetables and other supplies would likely be eating those same vegetables, curried or fried by the shopkeepers and café owners who would stroll by from time to time and examine the vegetables as though if they were not up to scratch they would walk on by and simply take the 5 hour journey to Suva…
We had lunch at somewhere we don’t recall and then had dinner at the Whales Tale. Before dinner we used the limited gym at the hotel, more to quiet our conscience than for any other reason. That night we watched the Love Guru in the weird tv room at the hotel and then retired for the night, simultaneously an incredibly pleasant and yet quite boring day.
The next morning we attempted to justify our tourist status by beginning a stroll through the extremely limited roster of Levukian sites, all not too exciting and in fact eclipsed by the real appeal of the place, the fact that its an insular little town with a spaghetti western feel, set on a volcanic island with basic lean to villages scatter the palm strewn mountainside behind the large churches that stud the shoreline.
Regardless, we felt it necessary to view the PAFCO plant. I have no idea why its even in the guide book. Honestly, after living next to spaghetti junction in bham for a year I don’t think we needed to see any more large factories, no matter how pretty the place they are based.
Before that excitement though we went to a church service- famous for their singing a Fijian service is not to be missed. Especially when the preacher tells children that they should not be lazy- if Jesus comes down to earth while lazy children are napping everyone else will ascend to paradise but they will be left behind. Apparently Jesus disapproves of overweight people which earned the preacher no brownie points with the almost without exception overweight female audience.
Once a family had sung together (admittedly touching to watch) and we had finished being berated for being overweight we were allowed to leave. For crying out loud man, shut up we need some food we nearly screamed but in the end it finished. We stood on the porch trying not to talk to anyone as it poured with rain. Once that stopped we went to the Whales Tale for lunch.
After lunch we saw where fiji was ceded by the British including the tiny house that Prince Charles stayed in during his visit here. Once we finished with that excitement we saw the Mission Steps (literally stone steps in the hillside to the original mission). Later that eve we saw the best site so far in both our opinions—the Pizza Place. Yum yum.
The next day was to be one of the best days in Fiji. We had breakfast at Kim’s place and then went for our tour with Selaina. Manguila as he was known was a local tour guide. We had arranged to climb the devil’s peak with him via Margot in the Ovalau watersports shop.
As we have explained, Levuka is surrounded by peaks and in fact the whole of Ovalau’s center seems to be peaks and calderas. Manguila turned out to be quite a good guide. We walked behind the main street which we had stayed on for the most part. Levuka town is built on a narrow ribbon of flat land right up to the sea wall. As soon as you walk inland you soon finish with the pavements and start on the dirt tracks. These turn to concrete tracks as you enter the villages which are fairly ramshackle affairs at best- sheet metal houses with tin roofs. We got taken to M’s cousins house. Most people in the villages are fairly closely related. We got invited in for pancakes and tea at the house which was brilliant. It was set to one side of the concrete track, most of M’s family were outside playing either with the little puppy of indiscriminate origin or with the baby goat which hilariously kept butting people. Happy days.
We sat crosslegged on the floor inside, avoiding as usual pointing our feet at people and ate the greasy yet delicious pancakes that M’s cousin’s wife/sister/mother or whoever kept serving up. It turned out one of the maids from the Royal lived there too so we attempted to chat to everyone in broken English (theirs, not ours).
The great thing about Manguila is that he is incredibly relaxed. Two years in prison for dealing hash will do that to you. Especially if you never kick the habit either.
Anyway, illegal drugs aside we had a nice time eating pancakes.
We commenced the trek itself and it turned out to be pretty hard. As is normal M wore flip flops to walk it but we would have found it impossible. The devils peak was a steep climb and we (I) often had to stop for a rest. At the top of a fabulous climb, and we do mean fabulous- verdant hills thickly forested with trees of the type of deep lush green you only get in tropical climates (and incidentally, England because of the rain). Palm trees are dotted about and you can see Kava plants growing everywhere.
Right at the top of the peak you climb out and stand on the edge of the hill/mountain and look down onto the main strip of levuka with its shining white colonial buildings and the glare of a hundred tin roofs glinting behind it, half hidden in the foliage of the hillside.
The most amazing thing about the view, and the part that really blows your hair back is the coral reef. You can see it under the water, ringing the island and you can see the channels between it that allowed Levuka to develop as a port. It really was wonderful to see the buildings all nestled by the water and then the sloping hills back to the village followed by the sudden steep sweep up to where we sat for at least 30 minutes that felt like mere moments as we were taken aback by our first real taste of the beauty of Fiji.
After seeing that view, the words that view should really be italicized for emphasis went strolled down the hillside with cramping quadriceps muscles to a fairly new shack constructed by M’s other cousin. It included a porcelain toilet which was open to the elements but flushed properly thanks to the network of plastic pipes that feeds the village and hillside by tapping water sources further up the hills.
The shack was very basic but M’s cousin was very interesting, a meek man who used to compete in commonwealth weightlifting he busied himself cooking us rather nice, if extremely basic- it was all harvested from his hillside garden.
Manguila had a bite of his special mushroom which he grows up by his cousins shack, we refused on the grounds that our health insurance didn’t include side effects suffered from strenuous walks followed by big bites of magic fungi. We sat on a wooden bench on the hillside and watched M harvest Kava roots to bash up in a pot and then sieve through muslin with water to make the Kava drink. Famous in Fiji, harmless yet enjoyable, a relaxant with no side effects Kava is toted as the cure all. Unfortunately the British medical Association disagrees and cites possible liver damage as a flaw in the Kava regime but hey, who cares about a little liver damage when you’re holiday?
We ate dinner- roasted cassava slices, boiled daro slices, canned (PAFCO) tuna with greens and coconut milk and magi noodles, green beans, tea and frequent offers of a spliff, some magic mushroom or some Kava, only the last of which was accepted.
We lay pleasantly stunned on the floor of the shack- some of us brought to a state of intense relaxation by the delicious fresh food, the incredible views from this tiny ramshackle hillside house and the steep climb before lunch…others among us relaxing in a more intense manner and dreamily thinking of god only knows what but we passed the afternoon in a very pleasant manner chatting and falling silent to contemplate the view in equal measures. In fact, reporting it back here on the blog like this makes us wonder whether the noodles had some extra ingredients. I suppose we will never know.
Once it began to get dark we trekked back down the hill and through the village to a waterfall/rock pool. M elected not to swim but K paddled and I went in. After that we went back to the hotel, leaving M to explain to his wife and children that he was going to the pub with the tourists.
We went to the Ovalau club that night where we drank and bought drinks for M and cousin for most of the night. I played a bit of snooker and we drank in the Fijian way from tiny glasses that we topped up for each other and then had to drink in one go- the beer was all Fiji Bitter in big brown bottles. Handily it was only 1.80 a pint. We met Cici who was quite intimidating and looked a bit like a man. She claimed royal ties through her family and looked like she might want to fight us. We also met David who worked at the Ovalau Water Sports and was 6 foot 3. He might have been the reason why Cici didn’t kill us that night.
After drinking too much and picking up the tab we went back to M’s house and were welcomed by his wife’s family whom he hates. He went off and cooked while we watched tv and smelt the weird smoke that the long thin cigarettes made from newspaper were giving off.
We ate a rather drunken supper on the floor in Manguila’s kitchen while he moaned about the wife’s family and then walked us back to our hotel where we somewhat gratefully locked the mad Fijians out and retired to bed.
The next morning we went off to Bobo’s farm.
Bobo’s farm is an institution as far as we are concerned. It’s simply an army truck ride from Levuka. Again, in another tribute to the friendliness of Fijian people despite the truck being friggin rammed everyone on it helped to drag our huge cases up onto the truck, everyone shifted over and veritably insisted that we sit down. They then did the beaming smile thing at us, content to treat us as special English mascots- no doubt some of them wished to cook for us and to have us stay at their homes.
Anyway, despite a man spilling kerosene on the floor of the truck and everyone grinning nervously at each other the truck bounced its way out of the village and round the outside of the island all the way to where we disembarked and saw Bobo for the first time. Bobo is basically granite carved into the shape of a Fijian man who must be somewhere around 50 but looks like he is late 30s max. With a cheery greeting he slung Kirsty’s case up onto his shoulder as though it were a mere trifle and then strolled off down through the sticky wet grass that squelched muddily under foot. In one of Bobo’s soon to become patented clever moves he wore no shoes and simply washed his feet when at the house. I on the other hand wore cool hiking boots that slid everywhere and balanced the load of my case on my back while grimacing in pain, feet threatening to go two different directions at once and a forced smile and affected lightness in my tone of voice was not helping to make me feel better.
Once at the house we felt free to let our jaws hang low at the sight of the lovely little house nestled in amongst wonderfully cared for gardens with lots of green bushes and bright coloured flowers everywhere. What was the fruit on that particular tree we wondered as we sat on the wooden verandah overlooking a lovely part of the garden? Its kumquat Bobo explained, bringing a fresh pitcher of said juice to the table, squeezed just that morning.
Effortless culinary style is something Bobo has picked up from his wife Karin, a lovely German lady who despite a certain predilection for drama and hence shouting about the place is a wonderful cook and a very nice lady. Did we mention she can cook?
One thing that particularly adds to the charm of Bobos is the dogs- benjy and suri. Benjy was one of those cute yet somehow dangerous dogs that bounces about biting things (gently). Suri is a quieter dog but still lovely. She is one of those dogs that insists on being petted 24/7 and was even more lovely because of it.
Anyway, we drank our juice and then went to our little chalet thing at the top end of the garden. Bobo built it (after building the house…Bobo is extremely capable which would be irritating if he were arrogant about it but the man is incapable of arrogance, he is such a nice, sincere person that he is incredibly interesting and fun to be around- he was easily the keenest person to show us Fijian life and culture and he certainly did a good job). So, we went to our little chalet and fell asleep in the hammock on the porch. Karin came home and went a bit mad in a charming way and then made us just a little lunch as she called it of fantastic salad with prawns from the stream near the house and she also rustled up a quick tomato soup from scratch. This delicious meal which eclipsed pretty much everything we’d eaten since we left Asia for freshness and taste would become the standard.
We retired once again to the hammock and our little chalet. Later that evening we went back over to the house to sit on the porch and have dinner. Before we ate Bobo had to go and dig his cow out of the mud, he declined my offer of help which was a relief as he was gone for ages and looked tired when he returned with his shovel, he had a grin for us because he managed to dig it out but he did look knackered.
In the moonlight you can walk from the chalet to the house in the pitch black because the moonlight is so bright. We ate at the table in the lounge, a lovely mahogany table which is always set out nicely. We had chicken in kumquat sauce with breadfruit and spinach in yogurt sauce. It was just a simple passionfruit mousse for desert (homemade, naturally- Karin would probably be stunned to learn that some people eat desserts made in a factory).
After we finished eating we went out to the porch and sat down on the floor for Bobo’s Kava welcome ceremony…he sat on a woven mat and stirred the Kava round in the Tanoa- the hand carved bowl on legs that he mixed the Kava in. its served in a Bilo which is half a coconut shell buried for 14 days till it turns black and then its polished.
There are a lot of words which Bobo says at the ceremony. He does this the traditional way, in Fijian and most importantly he really means it. This isn’t something he does for tourists, this is something he believes in and it’s a ceremony that happens all over Fiji to this day. When passed a bowl of Kava you must clap once, then drain it, then clap three times. The most the weaker version does is relax you and numb your mouth a bit (due to its being a pepper plant).
After we finished the Kava ceremony we went to bed and slept all night through.
The next morning we had breakfast- this was an event in itself. It was always set out on the porch and could comprise all or most of the following- muesli, cafetiere coffee, toast (homemade bread), spreads (homemade jam), pancakes, coconut muffins, cheese and sliced cucumber, juice, tropical fruit. Breakfast was an absolute feast and please do bear in mind that to eat 3 meals at Bobo’s costs 15 quid for two people. All served on white china with tablecloths every time. Bargain.
The rest of the day was to be one of our most memorable in the whole of the time traveling. We walked through Rukuruku village (Bobo’s home village) and down to the seashore. Bobo has a little boat and he’ll take you out in it for the price of the petrol. We pushed the boat into the sea with the help of two Fijian ladies. Unfortunately as Bobo pointed out I look big but I have no power.
Anyway, irrespective of how pathetically weak the big English boy really is the stout villagers eventually overcame the boats inertia and we floated out into the bay and were soon motoring out to the sandbar. Though when the boat ride began there were clouds in the sky and it was stubbornly overcast the sun began to appear about 10 minutes out of the bay. By this point we had such faith in Bobo’s practical skills and friendly nature that we didn’t doubt for a minute that it would become sunny simply because Bobo had wanted it to. Kirsty drove the boat for a while looking very tropical with her hair swishing about in the breeze.
The boat kept plowing along despite a couple of engine stalls which Bobo attended to with a spanner. Eventually all the clouds stayed at the shore we had left and we started to see the sandbar where Bobo was pointing. It was their private island he joked where they would take tourists. It seemed to glow as we approached it, the sand tends to do this in Fiji, we’ve not really seen that elsewhere but it looks like a streak of yellow/white highlighter on the horizon to start with.
When we arrived on the sandbar it curved gently away from us and disappeared softly back into the sea about 25 metres away. It was about 10 metres wide and the sky appeared a bright blue bowl above us. Though you could see the edge of Fiji in the distance it felt isolated and brilliant. We were struck dumb and Bobo laughed as he anchored the boat.
We snorkeled for a bit, Bobo showed us sea snakes and gave a blue starfish to Kirsty to hold. Bobo disappeared for a while and we were left in this unbelievable place to float around and snorkel happily for a while just staring at everything and feeling lucky to be there. We got out of the sea after a while and took pics of the sandbar and enjoyed the sun blasting down on us. Bobo came back empty handed and then cheekily turned around and showed us the lobster stuck in the back of his belt. He’d caught it with a spear. Of course!
We took the boat back to Bobo’s village and then walked back to his house. He left us to relax before dinner and we played scrabble while the sun set. Eventually we were called to the house for the fresh lobster dinner and Spanish mackerel in a cream sauce + dessert and drinks that you would most certainly expect for 3 pounds fifty a day!
Bobo was sad because his oldest cow, the one who got stuck in the mud was not recovering well and he was worried she might die. He called her Victoria after the queen and she was the original cow, he now had 20.
We slept well again that night. Though Bobo’s is in the middle of nowhere it feels very safe as the dogs are always prowling about as is Bobo, he would always tell us about being up at 3am doing something or other, the man was unstoppable!
The next day was one of the best I think we had while traveling though in fact the whole of Bobo’s farm was one of the best traveling experiences which is a tribute to both Bobo and Karin and their skills as hosts.
We went for a walk into the hills which is always exciting in Fiji. Combine hot sun with a lot of rainfall and you get dense, verdant hills covered in lush grasses, trees, kava plants etc. Being a volcanic island its easy to find a hill to climb, it seems that everywhere on Fiji if you want to climb just head inland. A walk with Bobo is not just a boring walk by the way. Just five minutes out of the house we stopped for half an hour while Bobo untied cows that had tangled round each other. To graze them local villagers tie them to trees with long lines and leave them to eat the overhanging vegetation at the side of the wide dirt tracks people walk along. Unfortunately they are not bright enough to retrace their steps to free their ropes and they tend to wander round and round until they are (comically I assume) brought up short.
Anyway, cows untangled we carried on. For two minutes. Then we stopped to blow conch shells. Then we stopped for some fresh coconut that Bobo opened with his huge machete. Further along the track it started to narrow and curve around and back and forth, across streams and through kava fields. It headed steeply upward for a while and we stopped for a bit for a necessary rest, we could see back down to the valley where Bobo’s farm is and all the way out to the sea. It was beautiful.
We ate some sugarcane which K loved and I though was a bit weird and eventually made it to the Thumb which was named for its resemblance to a thumb from a distance. Once we had another rest we trekked back down through the Kava fields, waving to workers on a distant hill as we went.
We had another rather nice dinner and read our books for a while then Bobo took us on a quick walk through the forest to a natural waterslide, a wide swathe of rock leading to a big natural pool, it’s a strange break in the river, where the river froths through various little drops and creats natural spa pools and finally tumbles down a four foot shelf into the pool and then swirls on its way about 10 metres further along where it starts to look like a river again.
We slid down the rocks and into the pool and took loads of pictures. After that Bobo raised the bar by climbing up a twenty foot rock on the opposite side of the pool and then leaping back in from it. I managed to emulate this feat and put up a credible show of not completely crapping myself.
That evening as the full moon rose and we polished off a delicious dinner Bobo’s cousin turned up along with another friend and we spent the last evening listening to Bobo et al singing and playing instruments in a rather touching leaving ceremony. We sloped off to bed about 10 and again, slept really well.
The next day we were off to Caqalai (pronounced Thunga-lie, duh) Bobo carried the cases across the river and we dragged them down to his village sheltering along the way under a tree as it briefly hammered it down.
We jumped on the weird little boat, we both paused slightly and adjusted our expectations from luxury ferry to simply staying afloat and this seemed to get approval from our brains and we continued feeling good. Bobo stood waving to us and we floated off to yet another island.
Caqalai comes close to being the best a backpacker island can get according to the lonely planet despite being run by the Methodist church. There’s no bar but you can bring your own alcohol though you don’t really need a drink to relax here, the island is a 15 minute walk around if you stroll the circumference.
The snorkeling is what attracted us to it as well as the cheap price- two people can live here for 50 quid a day including meals. The boat bumped up onto the shore and we jumped out feeling overawed as usual because this was clearly paradise and we were going to be here for 3 days. The long communal dining hall is also the greeting point and is situated about 10 feet from the sea. Cy the dog greeted us and would later terrify us but all will become clear. We checked out our allocated hut and were amazed that it was so nice, a traditional Bure it was no more than 15 feet from the sea and about 20 cm off the sand. We even saw a baby turtle on the way to drop our luggage albeit it in a little washbowl!
After dropping our luggage we had lunch which was the sort of basic fare Caqalai would become famous for, far too many carrots in everything and a lack of UHT milk for tea. We then sunbathed and snorkeled for a bit, the snorkeling just off the beach in Caqalai is the best we’ve ever done. We saw Nemo’s (clownfish) and loads of other brightly coloured fish, we began at Bobo’s and Caqalai continued the type of snorkeling that makes you wonder if you are in a giant show aquarium, its amazing and its indescribable.
We then wandered round the shore of the island and were somewhat surprised when Cy burst out of the undergrowth and grabbed a little red and white striped snake and fiercely whipped it about by shaking his head. Somewhat amused by this we were relieved to see the snake go off looking a bit dazed though otherwise seemingly unharmed. It was less of a jovial occurrence when Cy next grabbed another white and red snake that instead of being 20 cm long looked more like 4 feet and about 10 cm thick. This time we sort of squeaked and looked at each other but again luckily the snake slithered off and we resumed our stroll. Obviously the lovely stroll was shortlived (about 12 minutes) as we soon found ourselves back at our bure.
That night we ate another billion carrots in the stirfry and then took part in a traditional kava ceremony sitting around in a circle with the Fijian staff and a few of the thirty or so guests that the island can hold. Kava is passed around and it’s a nice way for a tourist to end the day whilst for the Fijians it’s a prelude to when the tourists finally bugger off to bed and they can start drinking kava the strength of which justifies the warnings you’ll find on Kava if you google it. We met David, a Canadian teenager and Jason, another Candian who was a teacher. David’s family were all really nice and we would see a lot more of them over the coming days. Eventually we retired to the bure and had a nice sleep, the special type of sleep that being right beside the sea inspires.
The next morning we got up in time to watch the sunrise, or at least part of it…sunrise is never quite so special as sunset, for a start its much harder to justify a nice glass of wine at sunrise. Anyway, we ate breakfast, the traditional Fijian staple of weetabix and then we were picked up by a stupid bastard who would drive the boat for a snorkel trip. He alternately bellowed at us to get off the boat and ignored us when we waved to get back on. The visibility was absolute crap and the current quite strong. Kirsty did well snorkeling around despite still being a bit worried about being dropped in the ocean proper. I was mainly concerned by the fact we’d paid extra for a snorkel trip and then got a worse experience than you can get just jumping in from the beach. Still, that’s Caqalai all over- and fiji in general. Get a Fijian doing something and you’ll have a good time, Involve a westerner even slightly and it gets mucked up- they start trying to run things as a business but still invoke the whole “fiji time” thing when they mess up. Anyway, moving on…
We spent the rest of the day messing around as you do, sunbathing, eating coconut etc. along with doing some reef fishing with the Fijians and David. You get an old plastic coke bottle and they wrap the line around that and then bait it with eel or fish chunks. If you are really thick you’ll snag coral instead of fish. Which we both did! Still, it was an idyllic afternoon relaxing on a little boat floating around in the sea, ratty would be proud.
That evening after a bit of taekwondo practise first alone then with some Fijians wanting to join in we ate another carroty dinner and then Jason built a rather decent bonfire on the beach, just near to our bure. Some people had been to town that day and brought us five litres of wine so we had a bit of that and a chat. It was very nice indeed. We didn’t even wake the family of five that had been living in a tent by our bure for the last month. They seemed nice too- the man was doing salute to the sun while we simply watched the sunrise earlier that day.
On our last day on Caqalai we ate breakfast, sunbathed and then snorkeled again, I went both with David and with Kirsty and we enjoyed seeing the coral farm where they have put metal frameworks in the sea for the coral to bind to and regenerate where its previously been damaged by humans, boats or simply stormy weather. The lunch today was great- a lovo feast (cooked in the ground) similar to the same type of thing in NZ we noticed and again it reiterated the links between Polynesia and the Maoris for us. Its suprising to find when you first get to Fiji to see the queen on the money.
A lovo feast is always good but this was particularly good as David had been out for a proper fishing trip and caught a huge Spanish mackerel that was probably cooking about an hour after it took its last fishy breath. Yum yum.
We had another bonfire that night and David took me along to collect wood etc. for it but then made up for it by taking some very nice pics of K and I sillouhettede by the moonlight which we cant wait to see getting printed. Before the bonfire we polished off the rest of the lovo feast and when we finally got into bed we slept the peaceful sleep of people full of fresh fish, exhausted by snorkeling round the brightly coloured coral and the demands of taekwondo and sunbathing in the day. I swear that the sound of the sea is better than a sleeping pill.
The next morning we woke early as usual or rather I woke Kirsty by doing pull-ups on the beams of the bure and then we had a nice breakfast. We then spent the last morning taking last minute pics of the island and generally getting geared up to go to Nadi round the other side of the main island, gateway to the Yasawas. In case you don’t know the Yasawas are the place where films like Castaway and Blue Lagoon were filmed. Paradise in other words. We would later realize that Caqalai was in fact paradise already, albeit with a limited bar and no sky tv or internet. It’s a difficult world.
In brief, we took the boat to Natovi Landing (the Fijians played their guitars and sang as we left, giving a credible impression of giving a shit we were leaving), took a minivan to a town with no discernible name. Argued with various bus and taxi drivers, ate a roti and drank and diet coke, got the bus to Suva, got the express (ha!) bus to Nadi, got a taxi to the Newtown Beach Motel.
The NBM was a generic little motel pleasing in its eccentricities like the use of bricks instead of wood in its construction and a nifty new invention known as tiles on the roof instead of straw. We took a taxi back in to Nadi, again known for being a horrible horrible place. In fact I just looked in the LP for a quote to prove my point but couldn’t find anything except it saying that its no idyllic snapshot of Fiji but having a paragraph entitled Dangers and Annoyances doesn’t help make the place sound awesome especially as all it really says it that people might try to sell you stuff and if you stand around with a laptop and digital camera worth 50 years of Fijian wages youll get mugged no matter whether Dead Ard Dave is with you or not. Surely that’s just common sense?
Anyway, we were kind of on alert thanks to that type of semi worrying drivel but in the end Nadi was fine. We paid the 8 quid to get back in because the Bula festival was on and it was focused around a little country fair type thingy which appealed no end. I ingratiated myself with the locals by winning 10 dollars at darts. Despite them probably being ridiculously weighted and magnetized and god knows what I else I still scored a bullseye first go. The great thing about being crap at darts is the weighting and general fixing then actually helps you hit the target. Without weighting a normal shot a bully would probably hit the number 7, with weighting its bang on. Thanks cheats! Give me 10 bucks.
BBQ was advertised everywhere but turned out to be quite crap so we ended up eating at a KFC style joint. Locally owned though so that’s OK!
That night was quite exciting as we knew the next day would mean a big boat somewhere knew and that each time we swapped islands in the Yasawas we would only be on each one for 48 hours. Just imagine it…you’ve already been traveling nearly 9 months but now you have got a solid week on some of the prettiest, most isolated, most idyllically gorgeous islands in the world. Damn it was hard not to ring home and gloat. In the end we avoided it because ringing home and then giggling gloatingly, without pause, for half an hour is both nasty and a waste of valuable skype credit. Plus, it was time for a fiji bitter in the room and a scrabble battle before bed. Does the mention of scrabble lessen your jealousy?
The next morning we strolled to the bottom of the street to catch the pick up bus. The bus dropped us at the marina for a ridiculous debacle that normally ensues when you try to enforce business type nonsense, rules and such, on a people who just don’t function that way. Without tickets, without any such nonsense as credit card payments, booking forms, blah blah blah Fijians make things work time after time. Make them work to a ticket system, a clock (loud unbelieving gasp from the Fijians) and get them to turn a profit and they go to pieces. We wont discuss the delays or other crap but suffice it to say we missed lunch at the first island though we did get a free pie. The aussie we were with was stoked. On a side note this is what is frustrating about running businesses in Fiji. Without the stupid Awesome Adventure twats making us run in “customer” mode we wouldn’t have given a monkeys about missing lunch. However they put you into that mindset by really fleecing you for everything. Hence no lunch became a big deal. On the mainland we really would not have cared and its likely that whoever was in charge would have brought us food, or Kava, or simply a beer anyway. Not so this time. It was a change we had to get used to. This was commercial fiji now baby!
Wayalailai was the first island we went to. Again I wanted to quote the verbose lonely planet but don’t have the time. Suffice to say the bures and resort are a the base of the granite face of an extinct volcano. There are two steps, the beach, then a step up (a steep ramp) to the bure, then a step up to the dorms. Following that there is a steep climb to the top of the island, it would take about 90 minutes to make that climb as we would find out but the view of the coral beneath the water and of other islands would make it a climb not soon forgotten.
The first night we made a sunset trip up Wayalailai and looked down on the resort from a couple of hundred metres above it (pics on snapfish), we posed with the Fijian waters in the background and we marveled at what a few grand can get you. We then climbed back down after seeing a partially eclipsed sunset that actually sets half behind a rocky outcrop but no matter. We followed the man in the flip flops back down in time for dinner. His feet were sickening, much the same as youd expect if you beat your own with a hammer, toes everywhere but then that’s a life without shoes, or it seemed, any semblance of giving a fuck what happened to your feet.
The dinner was nice and we chatted to a few people there. Sifting through tourists is a good idea, there are a few gems but one guy was a bit much, every time he announced he was studying medicine it was as though he expected a trumpeter to play a fanfare. Why cant he just sell stationery like me I thought to myself bitterly.
After dinner we headed to the beach and saw the moon rise, it starts off orange. The moon rise was one of the most vivid memories we have. Imaging seeing the moon as large as you would see the sun setting into the ocean and you have what we saw. Emerging, huge and resplendent from the sea the eventually bone white moon and ebony sky really take your breath away. We’d seen sunrise and sunset in about 5 different countries by this point but the moon in Fiji is something else altogether.
The next morning we woke too late to go shark snorkeling and instead tried to decode what the hell else was going on. As usual for Fiji it was impossible for anything to be organized in a normal manner so we shrugged and did our own thing nearly all day including some snorkeling and some pleasant admiring of the scenery. Lunch was most pleasant and so was dinner. We hung around our bure and just enjoyed living that day. That night we sat on the deck as we ate dinner and we foolishly signed up for a sunrise trek, the same as we had done the night before only with the promise of first light instead of the last of the day.
The next morning 4.30am felt like exactly what it was, bloody early to be hopping out of bed. No matter, we strolled languidly (read, staggered zombie like) to the canteen to desperately snort coffee and then begin our climb in darkness. Spurred on simply by remembering Mt Kinabalu and realizing this trek would take one hour and climb to about 200m not take 16 hours and climb to 4095m we eventually reached the top just as the sun was peeking over the horizon. Just like the moon, in a way common to any rising or setting where you have a clear view of the horizon, ie. the lowest point possible, the rising sun was enormous and fiery ascending seemingly straight out of the calm depths of the sea, incandescent in contrast to the last shadows of the night, the sun burned off the remains of the darkness and left everyone silent in its majesty.
With the whole majesty thing out of the way and the sun just a common yellow ball in the sky again we all tried to hurry down, ravenous now after having been up for nearly four hours and eaten nothing despite spending nearly two hours climbing/descending a challenging route. Coco pops never tasted so good let me tell you. That night there was a Kava ceremony with Kava to drink and Fijian singing and dancing, which we all joined in with.
This day was our last and we just had time to collect our washing from the Fijian lady (goodbye my favourite sequined “1982” t-shirt I would later realize) and to sunbathe one last time before the Yasawa Flyer turned up. This huge yellow catamaran was a reminder of civilistation and we enjoyed its aircon and icecreams en route to Mantaray Island. Mantaray is known for its excellent food and also the chance to snorkel with its namesake.
We were allocated a dorm as we had asked for a private double and as per usual booking way in advance guarantees nothing but a hard time. Bloody people are crap with details on these islands. Anyway, we were sharing a weird little semi private dorm with two nice med students and Mantaray island is so damn appealing that we weren’t that bothered anyway. We spent the first day getting acquainted with things and lounging about. True to its rep lunch was awesome and the beach was perfect for sunbathing. I played a bit of beach volleyball that evening and this island was a lot friendlier than Wayalailai.
That night we ate dinner (fantastic again, three courses served to the table) and chatted with different people. By the time bedtime arrived it didn’t matter we were in a dorm, sleeping was no problem.
The next day, our only true day on Mantaray was quite exciting, we changed to a double bure which was bizarrely like a little hotel room albeit about 4m by 4m, it had a studded stone floor and a lovely bed, electric lights and a ceiling fan. A ceiling fan is about the most important thing in the world when its over 30 degrees in the middle of the night except of course for a mosquito net but we already had one of those as standard.
We spent a lot of this day jumping in and out of the Mantaray boat. The island would have a couple of Fijian blokes motoring around all day in a little boat trying to see where the Mantarays were, once one was spotted they would beat a wooden drum on the beach and everyone would sprint to the boat with their snorkels and flippers flying everywhere. There was a sense of anticipation in the air as the boat went off. As usual it was a bit of a nightmare, jumping on and off the bloody boat looking for things as people claimed to have seen sharks, werewolves and god knows what else while we were looking the other way. Coupled with that was the realization that everyone else seemed to share ancestry with Michael Phelps whereas our seemed like perhaps we were related to the inventor of concrete who was clearly inspired by his arms and legs while snorkeling.
Anyway, regardless of the thrashing mass of complaining stinking Brit tourists the Mantaray disappeared and we went back to the shore amongst the complaints of many people saying they weren’t paying because the ray didn’t show. In that case I guess the engine didn’t burn any fuel! Stupid bastards. You realize once you get out of the UK and other westernized places that refunds, discounts etc. etc. are something that you are not entitled to. Stamp your feet a bit in most shops and you get somewhere in England. Claim you are not paying for precious fuel on a Fijian island and see how popular it makes you. It makes you want to shout look around people! These Fijians may live in a paradise but they are not driving Aston Martins, they are not millionaires profiting by deceiving tourists into futile searches for sea life. Regardless, the bloody ray wasn’t there.
Reclining on the beach in aniticipation of lunch and trying to recover from not getting to see a ray we were surprised by the sound of the drum again. Despite desperately wanting to just hoover up a buffet lunch and maybe a beer we forced ourselves into the boat and it was a good job. A mantaray is worth googling in case you don’t know how huge they are- the one we saw was 4m across and glided through the water at an astonishing rate. Luckily everyone buggered off ahead and gained on us by about 40m. K’s mask broke so we swapped and then continued trying to catch people. People who don’t give a crap by the way, they’ll just swim straight in front of you while you are looking at something. I wanted to beat half of them unconscious and was hoping the ray might eat some of them.
Moving on, the stupid rude tourists were streaming ahead and getting great if crowded views of the ray leaving us behind to inhale water and complain. Then, it a piece of sweet sweet luck the Ray swept a wide circle and came back past us, we were effectively alone for a few minutes with it as it glided here and there. Its funny how at a distance of 15 metres its amazing to watch but if it glides closer your legs start to kick involuntarily as you realize that its big and it can probably sweep you down to the cold depths and crush you you instantly.
Once we were back and eating lunch we all felt very pleased with ourselves. Mission accomplished- it’s a bugger if you stay on Mantaray Island Resort and don’t see the ray itself and we had managed it after less than 24 hours.
After lunch it was back to lying around and trying to snorkel by swimming out over the coral which was disconcerting at such low tide. Generally though it didn’t matter what level the coral was at. We’d seen a Mantaray, live in the depths of the sea in Fiji. Add that to the list, wild elephants in Borneo, monkeys in China, Kangaroos in Oz, eagles in New Zealand to name but a few. In a couple of months time in the USA we’d be adding bison/buffalo along with a good few others to that list. This is what traveling is all about. Well, that and the banana daiquiri while watching the sunset on a little isolated beach round the back of the resort…one does one’s best!
That night was a traditional meke show- dance and kava which Kirsty really enjoyed but I was quite bored of by this time- we’d seen lots and lots of similar shows and to be honest I’d rather know why they dance the way they do and how its taught to younger generations before I actually see it performed- a little more backstory please people!
Anyway, we retired to the rather fabulous beachside bure and listened to the noise of the waves breaking softly while we also enjoyed the pleasant breeze of the ceiling fan- something to be treasured in a tropical climate believe me.
The next morning we were yet again filled with anticipation- we were about to go to our last island and our last proper few nights in Fiji. We had saved the best till last (though in retrospect Caqalai was probably the best place in Fiji) and we were about to go to the 50% more expensive than anywhere else Oarsmans Bay resort where despite paying 20 quid more a night we would effectively be downgrading to a dorm and though we didn’t know it yet we would have to spend dinners with a Kiwi couple who despite being charming in their own way somewhat disrupted our romantic time in paradise.
Anyway, we are getting ahead of ourselves. First we should remind ourselves that we chose OBL for the long swathe of powdery sand that eases into a glassy cerulean sea according to LP which though not inaccurate- it is beautiful is somewhat undercut by the fact that Caqalai is cheaper by over 20 pounds and you get a private bure along with much better snorkeling. That said, OBL is atmospheric and we hadn’t seen the sea turn quite such a vivid shade of turquoise as it did that day. In fact one of the best bits about OBL was the boat ride from the flyer. The Yasawa Flyer is the massive yellow catamaran that ploughs up and down the Yasawas but each resort then picks you up in a tiny boat that can more successfully navigate the coral and shallow waters leading to the resorts themselves. In the case of OBL we got a practically private boat ride for about 20 minutes to the resort. Normally its just a straight run from the flyer into landing however OBL is tucked away and hidden from the wind and just about everything else- something that does mark it above Caqalai- no current.
We motored through and past little islands, each one a gleaming bar of sand topped with lush vegetation rising steeply to the innermost point and peak of each of them. The resort at OBL also justifies its reputation- impressive stonework pillars make a centrepoint for the decking and straight away you sit down at tables with linen cloths (a rarity) and have a glass of fresh somethingorother juice while they explain to you the usual things like that they beat a drum for dinner and that the orange buoys mark the snorkeling area. Another thing to make clear about the whole Caqalai vs OBL thing is that the sand at OBL is unsurpassed anywhere else we have been. Basically normal places have normal sand, varying from deep gold in colour to nearly white. OBL has pure white icing sugar- it really is as though someone has dumped 20 tonnes of it on the shore- it feels lovely- you could rub it all over yourself and it’d be like talc, imagine doing that in Great Yarmouth! For a start you’d probably end up rubbing yourself with fag ends and a used condom with each handful.
That night we enjoyed dinner- it was superb food and then slept in the slightly cramped dorm above the main building. It was made bearable by the simple fact that OBL is known for being quiet and expensive, hence most of the proles hadn’t bothered to make it that far and our fellow guests were all of a similar age to us rather than the usual idiots taking a gap year between key stage 5 and 6 or whatever they do these days.
The next day we woke up feeling pretty bloody special. After all, we were in one of the best Yasawan resorts for the next day and a half followed by a quick stopover in Nadi and then a flight to Los Angeles. Ho ho ho we chuckled as we ate a relaxed breakfast and stared out into the impossibly clear blue and turquoise water. Ho ho ho indeed.
Of course, today was to be no normal day- we had decided to do a test scuba dive. This is no small thing for us. Well obviously for me it was, I am impervious to fear. For Kirsty however it was an impressive culmination of the slow process of overcoming a general fear of water. Believe me, if we’d have done this 8 months before she would have been worried on the catamaran let alone the tiny boats the Fijian resorts use. Furthermore, she wouldn’t snorkel at all. She’d already progressed from not wanting to put her head under water, to swimming, to snorkeling from the shore, to snorkeling off a boat with a float, to snorkeling off a boat without a float and now, the ultimate, 12 metres under the sea for 45 minutes. How would she cope we wondered? Of course if you know Kirsty you’ll have already guessed that she was absolutely fine and we were lucky to have a decent instructor who though she seemed abrupt at first held Kirsty’s hand for the first half an hour of the dive which she didn’t have to do and really helped K to feel better.
We caught a little boat out and around the islands to get to another island resort where the dive would take place. Handily there is a shelf here which means you can scuba straight off the beach which would remove the need for a nerve wracking backward prat fall off the boat with massive tanks on our backs.
We got dressed up in the wetsuits and got fitted for flippers, masks, tanks etc. Its bloody heavy by the time you are ready to go. We waddled into the sea and practiced the moves- bizarrely OK signal means something completely different by the way.
We kept going deeper and deeper until we sank a good few metres, both K and I nearly had to ascend as we were not swallowing as much as you are supposed to and hence we got a real burning pressure in our ears but it faded eventually. To be honest as it was our first dive it was not as scenic as it probably otherwise would have been. It was still pretty cool though, rocking along at the bottom of the sea being able to look up pretty much the equivalent of a two and a half storey house to the surface above us. The coral was quite plain in colour but hidden in huge holes in it were massive fish and sea life that would allow us to have a good look at them as long as we were just floating about looking relatively harmless. There were great thin spines of green coral everywhere too and we saw giant clams and got followed by a weird fish.
After a while of scubaing we got the hang of it and managed to keep inflating/deflating our little jackets to keep us at the right level. The time flew by and though I didn’t think that much of it while we were doing it we felt great when we came back up to the surface though I did skip a beat when I saw blood all round kirsty’s nose and thought she was going to sneeze out her intestines or something equally appealing but apparently it’s a normal side effect of the change in pressure.
We stripped off our lovely wetsuits and got our certificates signed in a crappy permanent marker the stationer in me noticed. We then motored back to OBL still high on the achievement of having done a real scuba dive. It was such a great achievement for Kirsty and one of the side effects of traveling- you accidentally overcome some of your fears etc. along the way- you have to in order to participate fully in things. Of course, I wont go as far as a certain person we met who said she was traveling to overcome her fears- despite living on the coast of England and near to Ben Nevis she needed to go halfway round the world to overcome her fear of boats and heights. No mummy- half an hour on the local leisure centre’s climbing wall wont cut it- I need a bungee jump in new Zealand to really cure me. And while Im at it Ive always been afraid of skiing and drinking too much. Bullshit!
Once back at the resort we forced other people in the dorm who had been enjoying a quiet sit down to talk to us about Scuba and to listen to us do crap Along Came Polly jokes for the rest of the afternoon. K was worried as she had gone deaf and would remain so for days to come. We had another delicious dinner that night and then went for a walk along the beach. We slept well that night having ticked off Scuba from the list. We knew we would be living this mini paradise the next day so we spent some time before sleep talking to people in our dorm about where you could walk on the island.
We also took time to watch Blue Lagoon which noone told me was semi related to infanticide and underage shenanigans- nice! On the upside K did discover a new drink- a limited bar led the desperate alcoholic to drink Malibu and milk. One step up from sniffing glue I thought to myself.
The next morning we ate breakfast (too much breakfast as usual) and then struck out. Walking is our favourite traveling pastime. Free- not too high in calories and generally rather pleasant it’s a solid choice for a morning activity. We headed inland and uphill as OBL was set on Nacula island, volcanic as usual it rose relatively steeply upward though not as steeply as Wayalailai, the path was hidden behind some water tanks and then swept up and around across what seemed like the spine of the island hidden beneath the grass. After about an hour it curved around and back on itself till it led us to a boulder strewn point of headland looking back down on to the resort where we could even see the little row boat bobbing at the shore. We took pictures though I could tell Kirsty thought I looked like a pikey as I used the heat as an excuse to wear a vest- stylish as ever.
Once we had finished with the pics we wandered back and I fitted in some last minute snorkeling including the famous attempt to get underwater pics of brightly coloured fish. It’s a good idea to feed a muffin to fish- they like it but you will have to swim one armed out to the middle of the coral as the muffin has to remain above the waterline as I finally realized. Anyway, like clockwork each day we saw Lionfish, clownfish, even a couple of them with a mini one along with various other daily performers. Naturally once armed with a muffin and a camera none of these appeared. Once the camera ran out and the delicious blueberry morsels had been eaten by the seemingly ravenous fish all the performers appeared. Bastards.
The boat soon arrived though we snuck in some lunch beforehand and it was a calm voyage back to Nadi only livened up by the appearance of the Aussie again who was amusing and fun yet again with a constant stream of stories and acidic sarcasm and contempt for all other tourists- he even claimed that he would file the trip as a business expense!
Anyway, back at Nadi it was time to take a bus to town and then a taxi to the Sabeto foothills and Stoney Creek Resort to see Michelle again who very kindly upgraded us for our last two nights. Michelle is very much an enigma- great food, free upgrades yet not really keen to chat with you. Bizarre. We enjoyed a curry and then retired to our suite for scrabble and drinks. Lovely!
The next day was our last in Fiji- we would fly at 10pm and get a taxi to the airport at 7.30pm after dinner. Before that though we skipped a relaxing day round the silent wilderness of Stoney Creek and braved the bus into Nadi to see the famous multi coloured temple and to giggle childishly at the advert of a Lube Bay at every garage. We wandered around and refused to pay to get into the temple- instead we tried to angle out the bars of the fence in each picture that we took.
We had lunch in Nadi though we don’t recall where- it just says Indian lady’s in the diary. I think it was a crappy little café that did the usual thing and served up an awesome stirfry for us for about 2 quid. We used the internet to sort out the car for LA- I asked the guy to move the booking forward for us and instead he cancelled it without telling us. We originally booked the car for 1800 pounds. It was lovely to see when we tried to rebook it that they wanted to now charge us 4000 pounds. Without going into the whole sorry affair suffice it to say that we sorted it out.
We caught our last Malibu bus back to Stoney Creek and played scrabble on the terrace before dinner. Eventually our taxi turned up and we had come to the end of our month in Fiji. At the airport we met Beverly again who sat with us and talked as though we were old friends, which was nice of her considering we hadn’t really spent that much time together. We took pics of all of us and then Beverley had to go to work again. There was some fun at customs as they tried to tell us we couldn’t get our clam shell back through customs without a permit. My curly fro got us through though as the ladies on customs were too busy joking that my granddad must have been Fijian.
Finally we took off on the most uncomfortable flight ever. It was 10pm when we took off and 11 hours later it was 2pm the same day. It was impossible to sleep and some thieving cow stole the row of seats in front despite being tiny and not needing the leg room. We were overcome with murderous rage, we grabbed her and while Kirsty held her in an armlock I removed the exit door and together we tumbled her out into the night. Or at least that’s what we felt like doing.
Instead we opted for desperately trying to sneak some rest- we would be landing in the USA, ready to be interrogated as everyone insisted we would be. We knew also that we would be collecting a car and would have to drive through an unknown city, famously complicated to drive in with the very real risk that if we crashed it would be into the car of a violent pimp high on PCP. Nice. With that thought we managed about 15 minutes of sleep over the whole flight- all our diary says is “couldn’t sleep- baby crying. Got our own row of three seats, films rubbish, free beer, hot, rubbish food, took it in turns to lie down”.
August and September 2008 were two of the best months in the whole of our lives. It was awesome. The summary which we can tell you about now (as we have to blog the whole lot from our bedroom in Northampton because there simply wasn’t time along the way) is two cars, 14,000 miles, 56 days, 32 states, 20 campgrounds, 30 motels, one apartment and 60 foot long subs.
Since you ask we’ll have a foot long oven roasted chicken with lettuce red onion and tomato with jalapenos and black olives on one half, bbq sauce and lite mayo on all of it. Naturally we’ll have it toasted with pepperjack cheese. Yum yum!
Anyway, we touched down in America and as per usual everyones stupid little horror stories about US customs were completely unfounded. Certainly they were business like but there were no big hassles- just a couple of quick questions and welcome to America baby! I hate all other travelers and in fact anyway who talks negatively about anywhere- nothing ever comes of it. The USA is just another example- we never had any trouble never got mugged, never got threatened (except in New York but that was kind of my fault) never had any hassles at all and yet if you listen to other people you’d think you were taking your life in your hands every time you left the house!
We took the free shuttle bus to the car rental place as Airport branch just means “closest to the airport” not actually at the airport as you would be forgiven for assuming. Eventually we got there and the place had the slightly deserted corporate air that comes with an office that was probably bubbly and thriving when it was set up but now automation meant that people only worked there to push buttons we could push ourselves and probably to dust once in a while. Our man was huge fat guy (stereotype no. 1- tick!) called Willie. Ole Willie’ll look after you he told us. Perfect we thought. Living the dream, one man at a time.
Willie did look after us, despite checking us in on the wrong machine thus making it a bloody hassle to keep the car for 2 months (we had to swap in Texas) he did take us into the car park and show us the pick of the economy range. Except Willie wasn’t too bright and when I cheekily asked if the silver Pontiac V6 was an economy car he said yes and about 2 minutes later we sailed out the gates in a car that should have cost at least an additional 200 quid.
This was it! We’d officially arrived, sleep deprived, running on about 30 minutes of sleep in the last 35 hours and now driving an automatic car, on the wrong side of the road according to my sleepy mind which couldn’t decide if it was ok to be on the wrong side of the road because we were in the USA or if in fact we were still in England and the sleep deprivation was causing a hallucination meaning that we needed to get on the left side immediately. Hence I had to listen to my brain shout “wrong side wrong side” at me when I was on the right and “wronger side wronger side” when I was on the left. Mayhap I did turn onto the wrong side of the road twice and mayhap the hotel was in Inglewood, an area mainly famous for appearances on Ross Kemp’s gang show. Nevetheless, we were driving a muthafuckin V6 dawg through the streets of LA and straight to Motel6 an establishment famous for being the lowest price chain motel in America- mainly frequented by unsavoury types but still big chain enough to keep the loons out. Perfecto. We checked in, admired the ice machine and then slept for a while. When we woke we realized we’d landed in LA about 30 minutes after a minor earthquake had occurred but the worst it had caused was so mayo falling off a shelf at Subway- cue interview with Subway man, we kid you not. American news is awesome like that.
Reminded suddenly of our gnawing hunger K insisted we walk to the Subway restaurant though I did make a pitstop at the 7/11 across the street first. We were in love with America from the word go- from the DON’T WALK signs at the pedestrian crossing to the pots and pots of fresh filter coffee with 10 different types of syrup that were bubbling away on the counter at the store. We soon discovered too that not only can you buy 3000 calories in a bag for a buck but everywhere also sells protein bars. One mega mass later and we were 30 grams of protein and 20 grams of sugar alcohols to the good and ready to rock to Subway.
Amazingly, there was more entertainment to come. Just after we crossed an intersection there was a loud bang as a 4x4 ploughed into an SUV. One thing to note immediately about America- the cars are freakin huge- you would need to be a millionaire to buy half the cars we saw. Anyway, the crasher tore off straight away followed by the crashee who disappeared after him with an impressive screech of tyres. Our first car chase we thought wistfully. Could this get any better? Turned out it could. We’d heard rumours but now they were confirmed. A 5 dollar footlong. At the time this was about 2 pounds fifty. We were hooked! 1 pound 25 pence for a six inch sub, come on! Also, being America they had things like crumbled feta cheese available in subs, fresh chopped coriander, 4 different salads oils and even spinach. We loved it and we kept on loving it for the next 56 days, I think 60 subs is probably a little low- I wouldn’t be at all surprised if we hit 80. Man they were good. Back at the motel K fell asleep again as I read a 2 quid 50 edition of menshealth- its nearly 4 quid in the UK. We were going to live like Kings. Awesome.
Once we had slept for a bit I used the laundry and Kirsty rang home with the card we bought in the 7-11. I even love typing 7-11. We would stop for coffee and snacks all the time in the US, just so we could experience the vaguely threatening feel of a 7-11. On the West coast they are staffed exclusively by Mexicans and from all the films we have seen all we could imagine was the windows being shattered by gunfire or that one of the people on the till would pull their head off to reveal a tiny MIB alien. Sweet!
After all that excitement we settled in to one of the queen beds. No idea why but in every motel you tend to get two queen beds. This would be an awesome country to travel in a group of 4- the motel room is only about 40 quid anyway let alone split 4 ways.
The next day was an eye opener. Believe us when we say that driving in LA is a complete fucker. Its sprawled along 17 miles of the coast and people nickname it 19 suburbs in search of a city. No wonder. We tried to navigate with a free map. I cant remember if we even found a tourist info office. I do remember getting to a massive Wal-Mart about 6 hours after we left the hotel and immediately paying 80 quid for a tomtom. Oh sweet sweet Tomtom, you were our saviour. Not only capable of finding motels, beaches, tourist info places, tourist attractions and ATMs it would also find Subway sandwich shops. I cannot count the times I pressed Navigate To, Point of Interest on route, Restaurant, Search, Subway…GO. Yummy yummy! Amazingly it would even find specific bank’s ATMs too- we had to use Bank of America to avoid ATM fees but that was no problem with our new toy. Once we had the Tomtom it was time to get camping equipment. After a long discussion I persuaded Kirsty to go for the 6 man tent that was 6 feet tall in the middle and was spacious enough to have a dividing wall should you wish to have two bedrooms. We bought cutlery, a stove, pots etc. along with other camping stuff and a coolbox.
The coolbox was frickin sweet too. Large enough to hold 36 litres of stuff yet small enough to fit behind Kirsty’s seat I would engage the cruise control on the freeway and keep one hand on the wheel- the other hand could reach behind the seat and flip the lid off the box. We kept it full of ice as the mean temp was probably 35 degrees in America and then taking a breath I would plunge my hand into the icy depths and fish around till I located a Mountain Dew or a Pepsi. If the road was particularly windy Kirsty would take her seatbelt off and practically clamber into the back to have a good look through- it was better when she did it, you’d get a choice of drinks and possibly a snack prepared for you if you were nice about it.
Anyway, we spent about 200 quid but got everything we would need and a frickin sat nav. Out in the car we were ecstatic when it worked flawlessly right out of the box. It navigated us back to our Motel6 as it was dark by this time. Naturally there were no rooms so we got the satnav to take us to a seedy dive (before you ask, seedy dive is our opinion, it wont specifically search for seedy dives though that would be pretty fuckin sweet bro!) further into Inglewood. I negotiated a discount simply for the heck of it and we checked in wondering at what point the local boyz would hammer down the door and then rape us but it was all ok. Until 3am when the alarm went off. Classic Lonely Planet story we thought later- we didn’t think to not just leave our room and stand around in the hall but we realized later that the LP wouldn’t be pleased- its probably a scam to get you in the hall in your underwear while people plunder your room. Whatever man- we were running on the Rough Guide now- endearing in its refusal to be intimidated. In fact I just browsed through the Rough Guide and it doesn’t really even mention anything bad even saying that the lawless reputation of LA is far in excess of the truth. Gotta love that.
We got to sleep and we would spend the next day really having it hammered home to us that LA was bloody big, extremely cool and very demanding if you have spent the last month living in various shacks in paradise.
The next day we woke up at 11.55am and checkout was at 12pm. Good start we thought. Naturally we had an ace up our sleeves. A 7-11 and a subway later we were good to go. We had booked a night at a campsite recommended in the Rough Guide. It was called Malibu Creek State Park and like every other campsite it was 35 miles out of the city which took about an hour to drive. People drive like shit in LA so it took some getting used to. After cruising all the way out there we found the place. It was a covered in a not very convincing mix of trees and scrub but you could clearly see that LA is in fact in a desert basin. The tent site was off the side of a winding concrete lane that cars drive around at 5mph and it was a large area of compacted dust basically. One great thing though- we had a fire ring and a picnic table. It seems it’s a rare thing for a campsite in the USA to not have these two things. When’s the last time you went camping in England and got a fire-ring and a table/benches of your own? Round about the 5th of never we’d wager. Anyway we proved the campers equation that heat + tent set-up = irritation. Once that was done we drove the 35 miles back to LA- to be fair it wasn’t that boring, a V6 is not exactly unresponsive and seeing the monster truck tyres of other SUVs blocking out the sun as they passed was quite impressive. Also- the freeways often have carpool lanes where there must be a minimum of 2 people in the car- this helped us to sail on past the huge queues that seem to occur no matter what time of day it is.
When we got back to town we headed to the Hollywood and Highland Mall which is on Hollywood Boulevard (and the corner of Highland in case you were wondering) where the stars are on the floor and the walk of fame can be undertaken. Here is an example of how ridiculous this place is- Mariah Carey was playing a free concert. Right there. We parked and saw her singing albeit briefly and from a distance. How bizarre is that?
After we had seen that we went on the internet to book tickets for Universal Studios for the next day. Universal Studios is the shizzle basically and we were keen to get in there. One 35 mile drive later we made it back to the campsite before the 10pm curfew which is when the barrier is locked for the night and you get to add a 15 minute walk from the car park to your evening’s itinerary. We surely sat round doing something or other or we might have just cooked some food, we really don’t remember. It was hot, that’s about all I recall. Damn hot.
In the morning we leapt out of bed and had a shower (coin operated). We were excited because so often when you travel you don’t do much all day except wander around looking at things. This however was an exciting day of conspicuous consumption. Two tickets in to the studios costs 80 quid and then you have to pay for food on top of that though we bought an all you can eat ticket for 12 quid fifty each.
Universal Studios is like a themepark, shopping mall and actual studio tour all rolled into one. You drive in to your allocated multi storey car park- ours was Jurassic Parking (see what they did there?) which instantly charmed us. Then you walk through the shoppy eaty bit which is made more exciting by giant neon signs, a guitar for the hardrock café, king kong for no apparent reason etc. etc.
Then you stand in line. For a long time. In a nod to the idea that standing around when its 40 degrees is not a great idea a lot of fans in LA come with mister nozzles which makes standing under them incredibly pleasant. There is also the iconic steel or aluminium Universal Studios globe rotating next to you while people stand waiting poised for when the banner makes its revolution round to be in the perfect part of their photos.
Inside is a themepark but instead of rollercoasters per se there are themed rides ranging from 3d theatre “rides” with moving seats that can even blast cold steam up your neck to compliment spooky parts of the show to actual rides like an underground mine cart style rollercoaster for The Mummy. In no particular order we went on the following-
The Simpsons ride- 3D simulator style but in a cinema with individual pods sticking out the wall instead of a bank of seats- you took a lift to the pod and then the show was right in your face. More amazing than the ride itself was the replica set of things like the outside of Moe’s Tavern and the Kwik-E Mart providing great photo ops.
Terminator 2- bizarre combo of 3D theatre and an actual John/Sarah Connor and Terminator actors running on and off the stage wielding fake guns and generally camping it up no end. Amazingly well produced and actually very entertaining. Really should be quite crap but it really is anything but!
Animals- this was a show more like you’d get in the UK of animals they use in films. The dogs cats and birds as well as ferrets were all good but we felt a bit weird that they used a baby orangutan. It was interesting before that though as the presenter had worked on loads of films including Evan Almighty.
Shrek- this was another 3D theatre show though as professionally done as you would expect with a lot of jokes and even an appearance from the mirror mirror on the wall in the foyer who was clearly voiced by the actual original actor. The seats were really high-tech and when Shrek and Donkey were in the forest and loads of spiders run at them there is some sort of special effect that makes it feel like they are crawling on your feet- cue lots of screams, some hammed up, some not!
Backdraft- more on the movie side of things you walk into one of the sets and then they set off all the original effects which means it looks like the place gets blown and torched to smithereens while all the audience grins nervously and fight the urge to crap their pants.
The Mummy- the queue for this took the mickey but in the end it was quite good. Plus the queue was through a proper replica pyramid which was funky. It was a high speed rollercoaster though it didn’t really do loops or drops, it sped along extremely quickly. It was as though itd been fired from a rocket launcher when it first started, then it stopped really quickly, changed direction and fired us off again. All in all a bit short but great fun.
Special Effects- this was a presentation about all the different sound effects and they had a Bigfoot robot too. Some people got to provide sound effects for some animation and they explained loads about the different audio tricks. The girls presenting were really good and this was very interesting and helped to justify the high price of the day overall.
Waterworld- this was more like a theatre production. We sat beside a big enclosed lake, it looked like they had taken the type of thing youd normally see dolphins doing tricks in, quintupled it in size, added half the set of waterworld to it and then they did a big production with jet skis, a sea plane that crash lands from outside near the end, fireworks, explosions, gun fire, high dives, martial arts and god knows what else. It was brilliant and would have been worth about 20 quid a ticket by itself. It lasted at least half an hour.
Studio Tour- the studio tour itself was mindblowing. It was so good it completely destroyed any concerns we had about the cost of the day. Initially its disappointing, if you don’t pay the big bucks to do a private tour you don’t go into any of the working sound stages and you have to stay on the tram. Still, once we motored on round the backlot and past all the closed soundstages where loads of different music videos and blockbuster films were made the real fun began. The great thing about Universal’s tour is its free demonstrations. The first one was cars from the fast and the furious. They have cars attached to hydraulic arms and first they show them being shot at, then explosions go off and the cars drive forward at an amazing speed right towards you. Then most surprisingly these sporty cars lift right off the floor and fly towards your head! At the last second they stop about 10m short of the tram and you realize that they are just shells on hydraulic arms and then the arms make the cars dance to a little tune and your racing heart finally slows.
After that you get to see stuntmen just filming a little scene where a guy flips, rolls, lands facing back the way he came and shoots a handgun a few times. Its pretty sweet to see. You can see all the cables, wires, props, trampolines etc. that the stuntmen use to film.
Around the next corner it looks like a Spanish or Mexican country town and you are beside a little man made stream with a bridge. At this point you are sheltering in the tram and it’s a good job because they demonstrate weather effects- there is suddenly a downpour and then a proper flash flood. Two minutes later its all calm again. Very cool.
The following part is easy to describe even though its three months ago now, the tram descends into a mock subway station. It’s accurate in every detail, and is in fact used for filming as well as the tour. The tram runs along where the subway train normally would do. Then you stop and everyone looks around. And then everything goes a bit mad. There is an earthquake that shakes the tram-they must have excellent speakers hidden everywhere as it seems very convincing. Then the roof collapses and a juggernaut falls through and slides down the ramp made by the collapsed ceiling until it stops just a few feet short of the tram, its on its side and its full size so its quite intimidating when it comes sliding along. Then the station floods and water pours in from all around you. Just after that a train comes on the other line opposite but somehow overturns and spins sideways towards us. Finally when that has stopped looking like it’s going to mince you the powerlines come down and snap and spark all over the place. Then everyone mumbles nervously and the tram emerges into daylight. It’s excellent.
Next stop of the tour was a brief glimpse of Wisteria Lane and also of the set from Ghost Whisperer though it looked slightly different at that time as they apparently use it for lots of different types of filming. After coasting down a hill we pass the set of Psycho as Norman is coming out of the motel and stalks towards us holding a knife. Nice. Then its Jaws- you see a dummy being dragged beneath the water and “eaten”. After all of that it’s a long slow climb back up and round to the starting point where you disembark and remark that surely its time for a cheeseburger?
The last part of being at Universal is the chance to take pics with sets and models hence pics of us on Arnie’s bike from Terminator, a pic of K outside the bookshop from Notting Hill and a pic of me with Jason Bourne.
By the time we got back to the campsite they had closed the gate and so we walked the little way back. Considering the park was deserted it should have felt like a dangerous thing to do but it seemed quite nice really and there were thousands of stars to keep us company. We slept well that night, probably exhausted from all the natural disasters and being stalked by the Psycho.
The next day we took down the tent when we woke up- it’s a good idea to set up and take down the tent before the sun gets too high in the sky or after when its set. We would continue in this vein to the point of pitching it several times by the light of the moon and the headlamps.
We headed off to the Chinese Theatre in Hollywood (next to the Mall) and enjoyed comparing our hand and footprints to those of the stars. In an attempt to do something a bit more exciting we accepted free tickets to see Family Feud (Family Fortunes) being filmed. We decided to walk to the filming which was a dumb idea as the Americans would say. It was only about 2 miles but it was absolutely boiling.
After strolling all the way there down the interminable walk of fame and gazing longingly at a branch of Subway along the route we arrived at a nondescript building which did turn out to be the Sunset Studios. We met a guy from New York called No Idea according to Kirsty. He was nice anyway. We had to wait a while and watch people in headsets and trendy clothes run around. Eventually we filed into the studio and got some great seats just opposite the families. We were lectured in how to clap properly (hands up, in front of your face) and how to smile- fuck you we thought. The point is that even if an answer is crap you must clap every single time. Its surprisingly difficult. As in “name a drink that comes from a cow” “err, orange juice!” and its time to clap whereas your first instinct is to yell Dumbass!
We watched a family win 20,000 dollars and it was surprisingly difficult to think of better answers than the contestants. Some people got moaned at for not smiling and looking at the quiz, mainly people who thought that they weren’t being looked at and felt free to take the piss out of the people being quizzed. Sorry fuckers, cameras everywhere!
Once filming was finished we tried to eyeball the “Judge Judy” set and then we were made to leave in quite a hurry- not even allowed to use the restroom. Maybe it was something we said. We hurried up the road desperate for a subway and we found one- the one that we had passed on the way. One oven roasted chicken footlong later with a coke to share and we were feeling better. We tried our best to enjoy the seemingly unending walk back to the H&H Mall and the car, past all the tacky souvenir and sex shops. There were people dressed up all over the place and black men trying to sell CDs of their music to unwilling victims.
After collecting the car and enjoying having had two hours free parking courtesy of a stamp from the tourist information, we drove to Beverley Hills park which is where a big metal sign proclaims that yes, this is Beverley Hills baby, you are here and it is very, very cool.
Kirsty lounged in front of the sign while I snapped pictures and we both cursed the other tourists who wanted the same thing- pics of themselves that is, not Kirsty- that would be weird and reminiscent of China. The sign is set in a stretch of parkland, a playground with stylish climbing frames rather than swings,, some flowers and paths winding around them and then a long rectangular lawn with the sign along the long side with a wall in front of it, perfect for the pose and to here “come on, Vogue!” in your head.
After the fun that was the sign we tried to search for Rodeo Drive but being thick, despite having a satnav we couldn’t find it.
We drove from San Diego to Las Vegas. The drive was pretty frickin sweet. We started on typical two lane highway and then we started to progress through scrubland and eventually desert. Handily I later read a Dean Koontz book where the main character makes the same drive and so I will steal his prose at a later date to describe it. Driving through from San D to Vegas reminds you of how primeval the landscape in America is you might find yourself distracted from the road by the play of light on the rocky landscape and the Navajo shacks scattered about from time to time that sold little trinkets and souvenirs. The landscape was amazing, driving for so long every day is made bearable by the fact that its so impressive a country to watch pass by the windows. Wed pay to go on a coach tour of the scenery we saw that day and in fact on most days- cant really say that about a breeze down the M1.
Anyway, to sum up its a drive through a desert basin, up around a rim and then descends again toward the bowl that Vegas sits in. It feels incredibly remote. At one point as we drove towards an endlessly receeding horizon the radio was interrupted by a LOST style announcement that as accustomed to American radio as we were at that point we took for a commercial. It sounded like it was recorded in 1950, started with a klaxon and though the radio reception was generally crystal clear the announcement was scratchy and distorted- maybe just to get us in the right frame of mind. One last note- if you have read Stephen Kings desperation thats the sort of landscape we are talking about.
Typically for the USA Vegas is situated in an unlikely place- a vast desert- and though you are warned of its approach by increasing numbers of billboards and frankly crap looking casinos with all you can eat steak for 10 bucks signs you suddenly shoot out of this straight run of billboards smack bang into a snarl of traffic which will whip you out and around the outside of the Strip whether or not you want to be whisked out or not. Then you achieve the inevitable driving state in Vegas- standstill. Bumper to bumper traffic is the hallmark of the strip along with a ridiculous sense of déjà vu that will characterize much of a visit to the States.
We eventually escaped the strip and went to check into our motel. Having accidentally programmed the sat nav to go to West Las Vegas Boulevard we would eventually realize that 1508 East Boulevard is the hostel and 1508 West was in fact a mental institution. No joke. A rather rapid clunk, click, vrrroooom later and we were back on our way to Todds. First impression was aweseom. My name is Earl style two storey motel set round a car park with a neon sign on the street straight out of the Jetsons. Lesson one- something set in a desert is likely to be hot on an unholy level. And humid. Luckily we were travelers so we just rolled our eyes and turned on the sweet, sweet aircon and got ready to hit the Muthafuckin strip baby. Sorry but a lot in the USA justifies the M word.
We caught the bus to the strip and enjoyed waiting around a deserted bus stop next to a 7-11 which felt vaguely menacing, there was a Vegas wedding chapel (looked like an office building) just off to one side and we had much fun taking pics of the Las Vegas Boulevard road sign. It was a 108 degrees and this was after sunset. A hangover in Vegas must be an absolute nightmare. We went out for lunch the following day and its the closest we have come to feeling like eggs on a griddle. Back to the first evening. We got off the bus at Circus Circus, the family oriented casino that all cheapo Vegas tours will make you stay at while trying to be blasé about the fact that certain hotels are featured in Oceans 11 and cost a billion dollars to build and some hotels/casinos have a unicyclist in the lobby and a clown on the sign.
The first thing we did in CC was watch a free circus show. A little open theatre right in the middle of the casino would host a little show every hour. We were pretty much the only people without kids. We met and spoke to two friendly (religious) families. We watched and enjoyed the show and tried not to destroy the camera for being crap at taking shots of moving objects. We wandered round CC a bit more but decided to get something to eat. We walked down the strip instead of taking the bus because a) it looks quite short,all the signs and billboards are so freaking huge that it looks like they are yards away and b) its only about 2 miles from one end of the strip to the other. Note to other travelers- when you are hungry and tired 2 miles is a long way when its 108 degrees. We walked the length of the strip checking out all the closed buffets- we walked all the way practically back to CC and went in Dennys.
We then experienced the sweet side of US culture- get a decent waiter and begin to feel special. He actually cared- we could tell. And he bought fast food with Heinz in glass bottles and refills of coke. He did all this while in a beautifully chilly air conned atmosphere. After the fantastic Dennys which would soon be shat all over by the greatest fast food ever we went to CC and went on the machines. If youve seen Oceans 11 then you know what the casino looks like. If youve been to a Gala then imagine a gala + a few million dollars- a couple of billion in one case- a smattering of chandeliers. Waitresses who serve cocktails and are called Crystal, not Waynettas who serve bottles of Becks. Carpets that serve to remind you that you are poor. Not carpets that serve to hide stains.
Anyway, after a wander round Circus Circus we set out to do the tour of the strip- each Casino has a hook. We went to New York New York- it has rollercoasters that wind round the outside of the building- it has central park in the middle of it and a statue of liberty outside. We went to the Bellagio. Do you need to ask? This is serious money, making people serious money. Note to gamblers- if you play the one cent machines you dont get free beer. Dickhead.
We went to the Mirage- simply a massive, awesome casino. The Mirage also has the secret garden but we will come to that. Its important to say that these casinos are huge- you can walk for miles through them. We went to Excalibur, a castle themed Casino. After that we went to the Luxor the Egyptian themed one with Sphinxes outside. It was bloody late by then (about 3am) but being Vegas, that didnt matter one bit. We got free drinks by going on the more expensive machines and we tipped waitresses a dollar per drink. Occasionally we would hear the thrilling sound of a cascade of quarters, sometimes the source was clear, sometimes we wondered if the sound was piped in. We won a bit of money but not much.
After Luxor we got a Fat Burger- the small burger was charmingly called a Babyfat. Nice. We got the bus back to the motel at that point as it was 5.30am and we had left San Diego the previous day at about 9am and not had any sleep in between. It was still unbelievably hot.
Thanks to the Rough Guide we woke at 12pm, took the TomTom for a drive to find a cashpoint and then went for a buffet at The Palms Casino. It was off the strip a bit and walking across the car park was an endurance event, the sun is like a laserbeam. We went straight to the queue and it was well worth it. It was like being in a normal buffet only it was 15 bucks, had everthing from steak to fish fillets, all types of vegetables and to round it off some fantastic desserts. Probably one of the nicest places weve ever eaten and we probably ate out over 700 times in our year away. Kirsty had to help a man with hooks for hands pick up his dessert but the great thing about anonymous places like Vegas is that this man was not considered interesting enough to distract anyone from the fabulous chocolate mousse.
As it was daytime we went to the MGM grand, instantly recognizable by the giant lion outside. And the massive MGM sign of course. We saw the Lion Habitat with 4 or 5 lions wondering why they had been taken from their enormous Vegas ranch and made to sit in a relatively small glass box for the amusement of tourists. Everythign has a decadent feel in Vegas. What can we do to please the crowds Don? Errr..two for one drinks? what about .a lion? Who thinks these things up? We played roulette and won a bit. Then we went to the Mirage to the Secret Garden and Dolphin Habitat. This is like a zoo and aquarium in the middle of the casino. There were lions, tigers, jaguars and leopards in cages/pens. In a little glass playhouse a man sat tumbling a baby white lion cub and a tiger cub around each other just as you would expect kittens to play. We stood there for quite a while watching them as they were just a couple of inches away.
The dolphin habitat was a giant pool and you could watch them swin around and do tricks. It was so hot at this point that we thought it best to go inside and play the spinning wheel- a gambling game for nimwits which is why we won.
Once we had finished there we took the car back to the Hostel- the great thing in Vegas is that all casinos have massive carparks where you drive in, leave the car and pretty much take a lift down into the casino. We took the bus back to the strip and got off at the Venetian. The Venetians main attraction is a second floor canal complete with gondolas. It also has a ceiling that mimics the sky and changes colour when it gets dark. The main staircase is palatial with big paintings hanging in it to look like an Italian castles entrance hall. We wandered through the casino and down little streets which felt like we really were in Italy.
After the Ventian we went to Paris Paris which has a big Eiffel tower in the middle, a hot air balloon outside and trees inside. We played on the machines in all the casinos. After that we went to Ballys. It was close to midnight by this point and we played the spinning wheel with some Southern Carolina tourists one of whom kept calling me Justin because Justin Timberlakes greatest hits was playing and I had short curly hair. And a high pitched voice. She was awesomely drunk and betting a hundred bucks a pop whereas we stuck to about 5. We had free drinks (or rather, loads of free drinks). We had a go on the massive one armed bandit to see if we could live the Vegas dream and we had already entered a competition to win a Dodge car at the Luxor.
We left Ballys which is a friendly affair and tried to watch the Pirate Show outside Excalibur which was cancelled due to high winds. We went to the Bellagio and saw the fountains with the music and light show. Very cool. Though cooler if you have just knocked off a casino with George Clooney.
After the show we went to Bills Steakhouse and had the worlds finest fast food. BBQ beef sandwich with fries and pickle. Toasted ham and cheese sandwich with chips and coleslaw. The fries were crisp, the pickle was perfect maybe it was the air con and the fact that we were half cut and knackered but I would kill all of you, right now for another one of those sandwiches. And they had the dinky glass bottles of Heinz which veritably make the fast food experience.
Back to Ballys afterward because it was only 2am. We played the spinning wheel more and drank more free drinks. We caught the bus home Vegasd out. The next day we both had killer hangovers and we were on our way to the Grand Canyon. Wincing at the glare of the midday sun, moments from causing havoc in reception with all the tourists waiting for the free internet that we were taking the piss on we departed Vegas knowing in our hearts that it was, in the words of Eric Cartman- supersweet.
The Grand Canyon:
The drive from Vegas to the Grand Canyon was 6 hours. We saw more Navajo huts along the drive which were sad indictments both of the divide between proud Navajos selling decent goods and the ramshackle dumps selling jerky taken from Walmart. We naturally had a Subway along the way too. It was interstate most of the way and as usual in the G6 we just chilled out as the cruise control and the well stocked cooler took the hassle out of the road for us.
We arrived near sunset and found the Mather Campground which we had booked on the free internet. It was typical park service campground with bordering on fantastic facilities only ruined by bureaucratic employees and weird policies like 20 cents for a shower. Why not just increase the price of a pitch? We pitched our tent as it neared dark and ate canned chilli with wraps. We then dropped into bed as we were shattered from Vegas.
In the morning we got yet another America moment as there were deer everywhere with big velvety antlers. We photographed them and gave dirty looks at people who wandered noisily by. I woke kirsty before a deer could poke its spiky head in the tent and really cause havoc (Id feel sorry for the deer if Kirsty had not had her porridge). We drove to the shower block and went to the Grand Canyon village Shops. We took the bus to the Information Centre. The Village shops were in a little hamlet type place though only consisting of businesses. Later that day the car engine light came on and we would have to ring National who told us it was normal (??!).
The bus took us to Grand View to see the canyon. As with most national parks there is a loop road with points of interest on it. You normally have the option of a free shuttle or taking your own car. In this instance it was bus or piss off so we took the bus. At Grand View the viewing area was at the end of the road where the ground peters out and then just drops into the canyon. We saw a bit of a lightening storm and generally stood around with stupid its the grand mfin canyon down there grins on our silly faces. It was all misty and lightening over half the canyon like someone had drawn a line down the middle. We got the bus to Mather Point and walked along the rim trail. We saw a condor and squirrels. The condor looks like if you were its prey you would be taken down my friend, rather quickly and easily. Very cool to see. We could see into the canyon and occasionally spines of rock would protrude into it and you could walk along them and get even better views down into the canyon. It rained for 30 minutes. We took the bus back to the campground. We cooked tuna pasta for dinner and went to the River to Rim ranger talk in the Ampitheatre. Another fabulous thing they do in the national parks is free talks and walks. Brilliant. Bear in mind that camping is next to nothing in cost. 12 quid maybe for two people. You cant stay in Great Yarmouth for that let alone two miles from one of the wonders of the world.
After the moonlit talk by the knowlegable ranger we tried to light a fire but the defective wood combined with the defective fire builder meant that was a no go. We got up at 6.30 to drive to sunrise viewpoint. We sat with lots of other plucky tourists strung out along the rim train watching the canyon become gradually more lit and the shadows change in all the hollows.
After sunrise we packed up the tent (always a joy) and went to use some ridiculously expensive internet time just outside the park though we did also buy a nice nighttime picture of the Vegas strip.
We then drove the customary 6 hours to White Bridge Canyon Campground. On the drive there were loads of deer jumping around and we lost an hour of time when we crossed into Utah. At sunset we saw a rare truly purple sunset through the trees and ruminated for a while on the fact that the sunset was worth the entire journey no matter how good Bryce canyon eventually turned out to be.
The campground was pretty cool- really rustic (I poured a bucket of water over my head for a shower), there were bear country signs everywhere though no bear proof food boxes provided so that was cool! We pitched our tent by headlight and marveled at the number of torches they had in a neighbouring pitch though they were kind enough to offer us one. The tent was about 10 feet from the river so that made a pleasant sound. We cooked dinner (cant remember what but probably tuna pasta or chilli) and went to bed. Then the temperature dropped ridiculously low and for the first night we slept in our coats.
In the morning we went to Bryce National Park. I left after another bucket shower. Typically for a campsite promoted as being near to bryce it was a 90 minute drive to the park itself. Bryce is just completely nuts. Its another canyon but like landing on the moon according to kirsty. Its a bright orange canyon but it bristles with orange spires of sandstone that are faintly thinner around their middles that their tops. Because of the makeup of the rock they have naturally eroded into these spines of rock. See Snapfish for pics- you wont be disappointed. It was breathtaking. The best thing is you can easily walk down into the canyon and amongst these fascinating outcrops and monoliths many with names such as Thors hammer. We did the Sunset Point to Sunrise Point walk (the Queens/Navajo loops if you really want to know). We also went to Bryce Point, the Natural Bridge and Agua Point all lookouts showing extremely cool rock formations.
We then drove to the Watchman Campground at Zion National Park. After pitching our tent we had to move it literally six inches off the grass at the rangers behest who we instantly hated as all we had done was slightly overlap the dead grass with the edge of our groundsheet and the golf cart driving byatch just had to say something. We had a nice fire that night though it was already fricking boiling that night but hey, nothing was going to stop us. We had marshmallows and Miller Lite- a winning combo and sat around staring at the stars and laughing deep belly laughs at the thought of Northamptonians we knew who would be getting up for work.
We got up early in the morning because the Angels Landing is touted as being a killer let alone in the afternoon sun. Zion National Park mainly consists of a picture perfect narrow valley with a clear as glass river running through it. On the way in is just as interesting as volcanic rock seems to have flowed into great hummocks and then just frozen making for great pictures. Anyway, Angels Landing walk consists of climbing up and then making your way along a spine of rock to afford glorious views of the valley in its entirety.
The walk was bloody hard. It starts in the refridgerated canyon (thank god it was sheltered from the sun), it climbs consistently then steeply up a series of switchbacks cut into the rock. Then you climb steep rocks along a spine of rock so thin there are chains to hold on to because if you slip youll fall off the edge.
Eventually at the end of the spine you see down into the valley and see the mountains of orock that are scattered about. The walk took four hours all told and was 101 degrees on the way down. We managed to get sunburnt lips and when we got back to the campsite we had to get in the car, turn the aircon up full and eat peanut butter sandwiches while listening to the radio and feeling like we had narrowly missed being sent insane with sunstroke.
Then we went to the Visitor Centre to watch a film about Zions formation though secretly it was to relax in the air con and feel smug that we had completed what is formally recognized as the toughest walk at the park. We then drove out to see the Natural Arch and Tunnel- pretty cool. We also saw the other giant rock formations I mentioned earlier.
In the evening we went on a ranger bus ride that showed us rock art, wild turkeys, deer, baby deers and other beautiful parts of the park rendered even more charming by their relative calm and solitude.
After the tour we cooked some chilli (heated it from a can) and took bucket showers (were not paying 4 quid for a shower but it was forbidden to have one from a bucket so you had to wait for the golf buggy carrying Hitler to piss off out of sight and then slam the water over your head with a vengeance). We also had a fire- sleeping that night was a bit easier as the humidity had lifted.
The next day we went to Death Valley via Las Vegas. Forgoing the buffet due to waist constraints we went to Cesars Palace and won 65 bucks on the machines which made up for the lossess we had experienced. We left Vegas and drove through the impressive desert and mountains again to Death Valley. We arrived at the motel El Porto which looked cool absolutely alone in the middle of a deserted town Beatty. We immediately drove into death valley which is a bit like saying we immediately drove from Northampton into Solihull. Its a 50 mile drive but we needed to do it after sunset because even at night it was 117 degrees.
The drive from El Porto to Death Valley was pretty cool except that it was freakin long way to drive considering that we had already driven through Vegas etc. that day. Still, we were beginning to understand that some sacrifices were necessary while traveling and one of those sacrifices was spending an inordinate amount of time watching ridiculous distances slowly countdown on the satnav. Having kindly listened to the proprietor of El Porto and we laughed derivisly amongst ourselves once in the car at the sweet idea that a local could outnavigate tomtom. The fool.
Anyhoo, we traveled along what was mostly two lane blacktop that slowly wound its way deeper into the desert and the evening became progressively dusky. We tried to ignore the eerie sensation that comes with driving into a deserted desert (hoho) at night. Eventually after 50 miles and exclaiming at the digital readout from the dash telling us it was getting hot enough to kill a person outside we arrived at Ubehebe Crater which was formed through volcanic activity (we think) but is a massive crater blasted in the desert floor which has not been beautified by vegetation or been filled with water and in fact looks like someone probably just dragged a smoking spaceship out of it moments prior to your arrival. Once we had finished with staring into the crater and trying to get good pics of it we went to see Little Ubehebe which really merits no further explanation!
After we wound our way back down the hill and started to drive back along the compacted sand roads toward where the blacktop started again we stopped by the side of the road to snap some pictures of a rather nice sunset. Kirsty had built up her confidence and so had her first go at driving. We knew the conditions couldnt get any better for her, 50 miles of desolate roads, compacted sand roads, blacktop, junctions and even a bit of night driving. She drove really well but decided that was enough for her. From then on she did lots of driving on the freeway, like criminals we drove through states as fast as possible while one slept and one drove though admittedly most criminals dont stop for subway every 3 hours, nor do they hunt down double chocolate protein bars at 24hr Walmarts.
Back at the Motel we watched the Olympics. We often watched the Olympics whilst in America, we wondered if this was what being unemployed felt like the freedom to watch the most boring Olympic events and enjoy them as we had absolutely nothing better to do. Lovely. The Olympics were accompanied by the finest in microwave cuisine. South Beach Diet pizzas and 64 calories-a-bottle beer. God Bless America.
We got back up at 5am, afterall wed been asleep since midnight so we were ready to jump out of bed. We drove back in to Death Valley, a race against the sun which the sun eventually won. We drove up a winding road which to quote us at the time took fucking ages. It was our aim to get to Dantes Peak to see the sunrise. We achieved the first though modified our second aim to seeing it in the early morning light.
Dantes Peak looks down the valley and Kirsty got some nice photos. I generally snapped around at nothing because I was shattered so Kirsty permitted me to go to sleep in the car for half an hour. Half an hour more of apologizing and equilibrium was restored. We descended the hill and drove through another maze like series of roads to see the Artists Pallette. No offense Australia but rainbow rocks are unfortunately dicked on by the Artists Pallette. It does look like someone has chucked pots of paint all over the rocks. Perhaps someone has. Sweet marketing
The devils golf course was next, a bumpy but almost symmetrical series of undulating salt formations which the signs warned would be the equivalent of razor blades should you fall on them. Cue posing on them. Unsatisfyingly neither of us ended up shredded so we drove on. Back at the motel I slept till checkout time and K spoke to her mum. We then commenced the drive back to LA. In LA we stayed at the Sea Rock Inn.
The Sea Rock Inn was a pleasant little motel that like most that we stayed in gave the impression of being a crack den and a brothel as well as a perfectly nice hotel. In the end rather boringly it remained a perfectly nice hotel with a lovely veneer of menace. We ate more microwave food (dont be alarmed, America has microwave food that is excellent, high protein, low carb high veggie stuff well, not really high veggie but they do do awesome pizza!). We watched the gymnastics and enjoyed the American news which is a lot like watching a film only really short i.e. its dramatic, it tends to have soundtrack you could release on itunes and lots of the time preposterous things happen.
The next day was the second attempt at actually doing something useful while in LA. We spoke to my mum and Tom in the morning via the hotel phone and then we set out to look round Beverley Hills. Beverley Hills is a good trek from the area the Sea Rock Inn is located in so we were happy to find that as usual we arrived at our destination mere moments before the trolley departed. Kirsty had to disembark at the lights while I left the car with a valet who it seemed had decided that a hand written sign and a yellow jacket was enough to convince me to hand over my keys like Id never seen The Real Hustle. Anyway, it was so we ended up on the tram which is a single carriage made of wood and brass. Its captain was a woman of undeterminable age, a big hat, designer clothes (accompanied with leapordskin tights) and what Kirsty called a lot of bling bling. She also had an embarrassingly fake british accent so she loved us because we didnt call her out on it.
The trolley trundled round an endless series of streets which passed various buildings the like of which had been used in Pretty Woman or were Julie Andrews house, or a witches house or some other stuff which ranged from the ho hum to the genuinely interesting. We even saw where cheaper by the dozen was filmed. More interestingly we saw the normal Beverley Hills houses, mostly obscured by gates but lots of wonderful, surprisingly small, houses with 4x4s in the drive and what looked like private school children spilling out of them. We wondered who these people were, what they did to earn so much money and what life was like when you came from a place that is possibly the best known neighbourhood in the world. Where would you dream of going from there?
Once the tour finished we wandered up the very small rodeo drive with some genuine designer clad people hanging around and lovely hanging baskets everywhere. Most of it was clearly just in existence because people who earn as much as movie stars do then need somewhere to spend it. In a way, we guessed that the people we mentioned above were probably all film people too. Quite cool but still living somewhere with good access to work, somewhere with heavy pollution and somewhere that is still within relatively easy reach of some of the worst possible neighbourhoods- Abington basically.
After having collected the car and managing to avoid a role on COPS (he had a jacket officer, he had the jacket!) we drove to downtown LA to see the LA Times building, US Courthouse, the Guggenheim etc. We also saw some plaques of the getteysburg address, the declaration of independence etc. with busts of Lincoln and others. We also saw some shifty looking druggies and a load of cop cars. The Daily Planet in Superman is one of the buildings downtown and was instantly recognisible.
After agreeing with the Rough Guide that LA downtown was not that awesome we retired to our room for more microwave cuisine. Yummy Yummy.
The next day we set out on the next leg of the journey up to San Francisco. It began with a trip to Venice Beach and I lifted weights at a small muscle beach. Muscle Beach was surrounded by a cool little market, a girl trying to get people into a nightclub in the middle of the day and also some basketball courts with loads of black dudes playing ball. Sweeet!
Muscle Beach was fairly mediocre but working out in sunglasses outside was pretty cool. There was a guy in tiny shorts working out too and I enjoyed pretending that I was American for a little while.
After Muscle Beach (and a failed attempt at a shower but a successful attempt at avoiding a parking ticket), we went to Santa Monica and went on the pier. It was pretty much like you would expect so we did not linger, just enjoyed singing Cheryl Crow to ourselves. That night we stayed at Arroyo Seco on the Pacific Coast Highway. Arroyo Seco didnt allow fires (it was in Los Padros) which was our first sign of being in fire country. There were warnings everywhere about deadly ticks which means you have to have a good look at each other to make sure none have got on you. It was dark when we arrived but our neighbours were up drinking and offered to help us (you never have a problem getting help in the states) but we didnt really need the help as by that time wed pitched it about 6 times in the last 14 days!
In the morning we did some skipping to try to keep our fitness levels up (bloody hard!) and then we went to Santa Cruz which was a lovely little boardwalk with loads of American style (surprisingly) carnival things and it was peppered with fast food stalls selling such delicacies such as deep fried cheesecake and other crap.
From there we drove to San Francisco somehow missing out the PCH but it looks like the Great Ocean Road in pictures so been there done that anyway! We were staying at the San Francisco KOA, a moniker that Micheal OLeary would be pleased with as in fact its 37 miles outside of San Fran. Because its a KOA and not a silly pretend one it was freakin awesome. Stay at a KOA and as long as you dont mind carrying around a few bucks youll be amazed. We pitched the tent in what we thought was a cramped little field but turned out to be absolutely fine. We then went to Subway and watched the Dark Knight in a little town near the KOA which looked really polished and lovely. The Dark Knight was brilliant and so we congratulated ourselves on having a normal night at the cinema but instead of going home to bed in Portland Place going home to a campsite on the edge of San Francisco. If we were air guitar people we might have Bill and Teded it up at that moment.
In the morning we drove to San Francisco after having rung people at home. We drove 90 miles before I realized that like a spanner Id set the satnav to automatically avoid toll roads making it avoid the bridge and drive us the long way round. Once that was rectified it was practically nighttime so spent the day asking in bars to see about cover charges etc. for the evening. We went to the net café, then to a lovely Moroccan place for dinner. After that we had decided to start going out to bars instead of watching the Olympics and eating microwave meals and Frisco is very famous for its nightlife. We ended up going to a free funk night at Boom Boom Boom which was absolutely awesome. Very strange music, a barmaid who helpfully educated me about tipping and wicked red décor, candles on the tables etc. Supersweet!
The next day we went back to San Fran after having gotten out of bed at 7am because we had missed a lot of the day before. We drove over the golden gate bridge and got a 25 dollar fine for being stupid enough to think you could pay by VISA. (Weeks later we would discover that we never got a ticket through the post). We had risen early to make it to the Japanese tea gardens. We even parked free of charge though the fortune cookies and traditional tea service was expensive. The gardens were lovely and its always peaceful to wander around looking at Buddha statues. Im always more interested when something is Buddhist as its less founded in faith than other religions.
After the Japanese gardens we began our car tour of Frisco sights to see according to the Rough Guide. First stop, Lombard street, the crookedest street in America and one you have seen in lots of movies. It was quite cool because it was recognizable as the movie icon. After that we went to China town for lunch which was awesome- San Francisco is really quite a beautiful city, the houses are lovely (outside of China town), if you have seen Mrs Doubtfire you will understand what we mean about the buildings.
China town was very very authentic which is to say it was verging on the gross as boiled meat is never good. From there we saw the Bank of America pyramid and found some money for the return toll. We didnt bother with Alcatraz or any other touristy things, we often just like to look around, eat and drink and then go!
That night we drove to Yosemite National Park. We got there at 10pm and stayed at Hodgdon Meadow. We pitched the tent and put our food in the metal bear box. We didnt have a fire because it was late and we were a bit wary of doing anything in case the food smells had been wafted to ravenous bears as we opened and closed the bear box door.
The next day we woke up, somewhat surprised to have not been roused earlier by a snuffling killer bear but relieved to have the somewhat less exciting and fatal start to the day of some weetabix. From the campsite we drove the typical 23 miles to the park (we say typical because most campsites that are named after the parks are a good way out). As soon as we got in the park we went to the visitor center which was typically awesome (not joking, visitor centres in American NPs kick ass) and then immediately ate some sandwiches to give us bear fighting strength. Another threat were the hordes of hungry squirrels but we gave them fuck off looks and they knew not to mess.
We walked through Cooks Meadow which is Yosemite Speak for a freakin awesome wild flower covered meadow towered over by mountains and bisected by a winding river that was large enough to be interesting but small enough to want to swim in it as we would see people doing later that day. After that we drove to Glacier Point which was billed as being the best walk in the park taking most of a day. Thankfully we didnt fall for this nonsense as though the views of the half dome and back down into the meadow were nice they were not quite up to the hyperbole in the leaflets.
Back at the campground I had a bucket shower and then we had a nice canned chilli and rice along with a campfire. We even flirted slightly with becoming proper adventurers and went to collect wood. As it was nearly sunset we talked loudly and whistled nonchalantly as we collected as apparently you mainly need to make bears aware that you are there and they will naturally avoid you though it would not surprise anyone to find out these guidelines are given out by sly talking bears. We collected loads of dead wood not caring one bit that the cream interior of the car was completely scattered and smeared with forest debris by the time we had finished as you can pretty much do anything but enter a demolition derby if you pay as much for extra insurance as we did.
The campfire was a fun affair, the dead wood goes up likes its coated in lighter fluid so the massive pile we started with soon dwindled. We wished it hadnt as it was freezing when we tried to sleep that night. We enjoyed our time in the tent planning the route we would take next.
Leaving Yosemite the next morning we had a pleasant experience that was someone asking us if we wanted their left over camping equipment- free stove sweet! We then commenced the amusing 25.5 hour drive to Glacier National Park. We had reprogrammed the sat nav 4 times before finally accepting our fate, I think we reprogrammed it to go via Portland as we thought we would make better time (which we did in the end by about 70 minutes). We drove from 8am till 11pm that day which in case you are mathematically challenged is what is technically known as a goddamn long drive. We broke up the drove by stopping at exciting tourist attractions such as walmarts, subways and gas stations. We know how to live. We eventually gave up at about 10.pm as the bloody satnav dispaying turn left in 524 miles was getting depressing. Thanks to the fantastic tomtom you just get it to find you a motel along the route. A short while later you might be in a little room at the Hillview Motel which was aptly named though at the bottom of the hill so kind of for the wrong reasons. It looked exactly comfortable and normal enough to be murdered in during the night but we did not let that bother us. We ate microwave south beach pizza and I drank MGD 64 which was most welcome as was the shower that did not consist of a bucket.
We drove again the next day for 9 hours and helpfully crossed into another timezone and lost an hour. We eventually made it to the KOA and put the tent up in the dark. Honestly, we are so brilliant at putting that tent up- how many people do you know that have pitched their tent 24 times? It was a particularly decent KOA so it had a communal outdoor kitchen which is covered by a round roof and has some hobs set out in a circle and proper sinks with running water which make all the difference to food preparation. We had a fire and then went crazy with dinner and had mashed potato and chilli instead of chilli and rice. Way cool. Overnight it was bloody cold- so cold in fact that we went to buy some extra blankets the next day. Obviously we overlooked the fact that going from the deserts of Las Vegas to the snow capped Rockies literally just shy of the Canadian border might induce a slight drop in temperature.
We drove into the park the next day and parked at Lake Macdonald Lodge. We got the bus to the start of the walk Trail of the Cedars which wound up and down through relatively dense pine though there were loads of people walking it as eventually you come out in a contained bowl that had multiple waterfalls streaming down the sides. The lake was almost a mirror lake and it was so picturesque that if you have been on the Snapfish photos you will have almost certainly seen it.