Overland Adventure - UK to Australia 2008

“Don’t dream it’s over” (Crowded House)

2008-11-05T12:15:00.003Z

From Borneo we headed back to the mainland, and then the next morning we caught taxis to Singapore. A little weary after the travel from the day before, food, shopping and relaxing were the main priorities for our time in this city. After the Westernised cities we had been in recently, it was a little surprising that Singapore was even more Western, with familiar names (including Top Shop and Dorothy Perkins) dominating the shopping mall. The prices were also definitely reminiscent of London!

Singapore: Singapore’s cleanliness and efficiency is well reported, and for good reason. Their underground train network is a pleasure to travel on, and took us to the waterfront bars and restaurants where we soaked up the atmosphere and re-honed our people watching skills, before heading back to the hotel to prepare for our final night. We all got dressed up (well, as dressed up as we can get, bearing in mind our very limited wardrobes!) and headed off to Raffles for the obligatory Singapore Sling. It can best be described as a Colonial experience, and took a few people by surprise as we all munched on peanuts and threw the shells on the floor, and it was a great way to say farewell to the trip. After a quick bite to eat we returned to the hotel to sit and reminisce about the trip over a couple of quiet drinks.

Raffles:

Elaine, Jo and myself enjoying the Long Bar at Raffles:

Cheers to Odyssey Overland 2008:

The next day seemed to just be one long farewell as there were several different departure times from Singapore airport. In no time at all it was time to board the plane, and head to Sydney. For me, it was the end of the trip, but for others it was the start of the Australian phase of theirs.

197 days and 25 countries after leaving London, I arrived into Sydney. It is difficult to summarise everything that I have done and seen and experienced other than to say that all expectations were surpassed!

Now to the next adventure…

“Tourist” (St Germain)

2008-10-25T03:59:00.003+01:00

After all the fairly unadulterated wildlife we have had the pleasure of seeing in Borneo, our visit to the Turtle Islands brought us back to the more unappealing aspects of mass tourism. It was all very slick, and in the end a lovely spectacle, particularly the releasing of the baby turtles (no wonder only 3% survive, they almost all went the wrong way and headed back up the beach!), but it was true conveyor belt tourism.

The Green Turtle eggs which had been collected by the ranger (108 in total): Measuring the mother turtle after she had finished laying the eggs. Her carapace (I would have called it a shell) measured over 1 metre long, and almost 1 metre across:

The 25 baby turtles that our group got to watch being released. They were very cute!:

Today is our last day in Borneo from where we are heading back to mainland Malaysia, and then on to Singapore, before I head to Sydney, others to Darwin, Melbourne or back to the UK. Difficult to believe it has been over 6 months!

“These boots were made for walking” (Nancy Sinatra)

2008-10-24T00:51:00.004+01:00

Or, alternative titles include, “Promiscuous” (Nelly Furtado) or “Since you’ve been gone” (Avril Lavigne), both of which have just been played at a volume which exceeded the speakers capabilities in a taxi to Sandakan where I am currently sitting in front of a massive television, enjoying wifi, and the feeling of being clean for the first time in a couple of very sweaty days! But first, how did we get hot and sweaty? From Sepilok we headed off to Uncle Tan’s Wildlife Adventure. The Lonely Planet promised us that that the accommodation was fairly basic, and they weren’t kidding, but I have to say it was pretty luxurious after the previous jungle camp of a tarpaulin on the ground. Travelling round Borneo involves a lot of “hurry up and wait” which can be a little frustrating at times, but fortunately we were well fed while we were waiting to head out to the jungle camp, so it was all good.

Waiting, waiting:

Our 3 days, 2 nights in the jungle involved boat safaris, walking through the jungle (including a very muddy walk at night, hence the boots), sitting inside reading while it rained, feasting on 3 meals a day plus afternoon tea, and not showering (there weren’t any! Going 3 days without a shower in Kyrgyzstan was a doddle, but the heat and humidity in Borneo make it quite a different prospect!). We were able to see large saltwater crocodiles, heaps of macaques and proboscis monkeys, hornbills and many other birds, and even a couple of huge monitor lizards wandering around camp or swimming across the river. I will never win any awards for wildlife photography, but here are a couple of photos from our time there.

Sunrise:

Ready for our morning jungle cruise:

Dawn and mist over the river:

With Rich, preparing for our night jungle walk:

Pete, enjoying the river safari in his own way:

Rich, taking Pete's lead:

"I am, you are, we are Australian"

2008-10-21T04:10:00.004+01:00

From Brunei we returned to Malaysian Borneo, the province of Sabah this time, and the town of Kota Kinabalu (KK). We re-joined Jo, and headed to the waterfront area for a drink and some dinner. After walking through the Aussie pub (imaginatively named, “Aussie Pub”), the smell of the sausages and steak on the BBQ was too much for us and we had to stay for dinner. Jo and I were quickly regretting our choice as some Australians (we later found out they were fresh off the rigs and had drunk the pub out of Bundy Rum the night before), put on a show which demonstrated ably all the stereotypes of the Aussie blokes and sheilas. While most of our meals were great (mmmm, steak sandwich!), Pete’s steak was definitely not the rare that he ordered, and when the chef (Bob, from Australia) came out to see it, he suggested that if Pete wasn’t happy, then he should cook it himself. Ummm, not quite the right answer. The combination of the feral Aussies and the unbelievably rude Aussie chef made a couple of the group wonder why they had just spent 6 months of their life trying to get to Australia, but hopefully Jo and I managed to convince them that it would be worth it!

Elaine, looking enthusiastic about going out to Sapi Island:

That's better!:

With Michael S and Jo on the way to Sapi Island (yes, they are slightly dark clouds in the background):

The next day, a couple of people had sore heads after a visit to the nightclub, Bed (a name which enables hilarious lines such as, “will you come to Bed with me” etc etc), but after a bit of coercion, Rich, Jo, Elaine, Michael S and myself headed off to the island of Sapi off the coast of KK. We spent the afternoon lazing in the sun (while it lasted before the storm came through!), snorkelling (where Rich rediscovered his fear of fish) and generally lazing about. We returned to the mainland by speedboat, just in time to catch a gorgeous sunset.

Sapi Island:

Sapi Island (artistic photo, thanks Rich!):

Yep, a perfect day for the beach:

Sunset - Borneo has really given us some amazing sunsets so far:

Sunset:

From KK we abandoned our overlanding ways, and flew to Sandakan, on the east coast. Our first port of call was Sepilok Jungle Resort, only a short walk from the Sepilok Orang-utan Sanctuary. We turned up for the 10am feeding and some of the group got very up close and personal with the Orang-utans, and others saw them in close proximity in the trees above the boardwalk. Feeding time was slightly manic with about a hundred people (and a hundred cameras) watching as about 7 or 8 Orang-utans came in for a feast of bananas and what looked like milk. They are incredibly graceful creatures as they swing along the ropes and manoeuvre round the trees and platforms. We were all really glad to have had the opportunity to see them again.

Close encounter, of the Orang-utan kind:

Borneo is all about wildlife and jungle really. On the way to dinner at the Jungle Resort, Rich, Jo and a couple of the others saw a small snake, and managed to get heaps of photos of it. It was certainly not the first snake sighting of the trip, and caused me to utter the immortal words “I haven’t seen a snake yet this trip, everyone else has”… Well, within an hour of saying that, Alexa and I saw a cobra on the road – it was fortunately more scared of us than we were of it, so it slithered off, flared its neck slightly, but then decided that it was a better option to get the hell out of there, so it did. We had to agree!

“Sultans of Swing” (Dire Straits)

2008-10-19T03:37:00.006+01:00

From Miri seven of the eight of us embarked on a somewhat convoluted journey to Bangar Seri Begawan (or BSB as the locals rather sensibly refer to it), the capital of Brunei. For some unknown reason, crossing into Brunei via a land border rather than the airport requires Australian passport holders to have a visa, so Jo decided to fly straight over the top of Brunei and spend another couple of days in Kota Kinabalu (or KK, bless those sensible locals) in Borneo instead. I was expecting BSB to be a mix of Ashgabat (gold statues of their leader) and Baku (an excellent example of the fact that money, particularly oil money, doesn’t necessarily buy taste). However, I was to be pleasantly surprised. From our short time there, BSB seemed to be a very unassuming town. The money was obviously there, but there was none of the ostentation that I was expecting. The prices, however, certainly did reflect that there is a lot of money around – it was like being back in London. Sunset over the Mosque:

The main part of the city is on one side of the river, and opposite are floating villages – houses, mosques, schools, shops etc that are linked by raised walkways. The river is constantly being crossed from all directions by a flotilla of speedboats piloted at huge speed when empty, and only a slightly more sedate pace with passengers on board. Sitting watching the boats zooming around doesn’t do much for conversation, but is a fascinating way to spend a couple of hours, particularly as the sun sets in the afternoon and all the locals come out to play.

The water taxis:

A floating house (complete with satellite dish):

Friendly local kids waved to us all along our tour:

The city centre is dominated by the Omar Ali Saifudden Mosque – quite an impressive sight from the outside during the day or night, and inside the beautiful decoration is marred only by the presence of an escalator in the right hand corner (not sure where it went). The Royal Regalia Museum provides a useful insight into the fact that foreign heads of state and other senior representatives have very limited imagination when it comes to gifts to bring to the Sultan (what do you give the man who has everything, no really, everything, including 2,000 cars and a couple of helicopters) – how many writing sets and daggers do you think one man needs?

By day: By night:

The Royal Palace sits nestled amongst trees on the banks of the river, but is not readily accessible to the public, and we were afforded only a brief glance on our boat tour of the floating villages. We were lucky enough to do the tour at sunset where we were treated to an amazing sunset, with lightning off in the distance and some fairly intense black clouds which threatened, but never delivered fortunately.

Pete, Elaine, Michael S, Jen and Rich on the boat tour:

"In the Jungle"

2008-10-14T07:33:00.009+01:00

So from Bako National Park we headed back to Kuching for a night (and some washing!) before our next adventure which involved a couple of boat trips through Sibu to Kapit where we had a chill day, not even managing to make it to the lake! From there we headed off in boats again to get to Belaga, a small town on the river which is used as a base for visits to longhouses and treks into the jungle. After some swift negotiating by Pete, we ignored the Lonely Planet’s recommended guide and headed out to the jungle with Ham and his friends. Our first day started slowly with a gentle boat ride up the river (until we could go no further due to rapids), and a nice gentle walk through the jungle along the edge of the river. After a brief stop mid-morning for a sip of the all important rice wine, we continued our journey, which got a little more exciting, with some rather dubious “bridges” (usually a slender moss-covered log above a ditch) that needed to be crossed. Before the trek (Rich, Alexa, Jo, Elaine, Jen, Pete, Michael S & me):

It was about 2pm before we rolled into camp, dripping with sweat and all feeling quite good about ourselves for having done so well. We spent the afternoon hanging around the camp, swimming in the river, and, that which we do best, chatting. It gets dark around 6.30, and it was just before then that our guides prepared a hearty meal of rice and chicken, and some small river fish, freshly caught. Little were we to know then how much strength we would need for the next day, or perhaps we all would have gone back for seconds…

Elaine was enjoying it... honestly...:

Our home for the night was a tarpaulin with some mozzie nets underneath – not our most luxurious accommodation, but certainly an experience, particularly when the rain started to come down by the bucket-load (well, we were camping! What could we expect??). While we slumbered (or attempted to!), our guides headed off into the wilderness to catch / shoot / spear / hook breakfast… And a fine feast of frog, mouse deer and spicy 2-minute noodles it was! So, suitably sustained, we headed off for our second day of trekking. We started back along the same path that we had come along, and spent a couple of hours meandering along, until Ham said (rather ominously), “Now we go over mountain. Oh, I mean hill”. No, he meant mountain.

For the next couple of hours we slogged up the hill, using our walking sticks (freshly cut for us the previous day) and tree trunks and roots to haul ourselves up a seemingly never-ending mountain of dense forest! The most disheartening times of the journey were definitely when our local guides shot off up the hill past us, not needing to haul themselves up, but rather seeming to spring from slippery mud to rock and back again, while we carefully placed each of our feet! We arrived at the top with an immense sense of achievement, only to hear our guide say, “and now we go down”. If going up had been hard, coming down was quite an experience – I don’t think any of us managed to stay on our feet the whole time, with even the most sure-footed of us (of which I am definitely not one, hence the bat guano incident in Niah National Park which I will talk about later) ending up on our bums at some stage!

A rather sweaty version of me, by the buttresses of a huge tree:

We finally reached the bottom, exhausted, filthy dirty, sweaty and generally smelling and feeling quite foul. So it must have been a real treat for the people in the longhouse to invite us in for coconut juice! A bit of sugary water helped to revive us enough to head to the jetty and to the boat back to Belaga for a shower and change of clothes before we would head back to the longhouse to visit properly.

This was only half way through...:

Into the boats for the trip back to Belaga: The longhouses are, as you might expect, houses that are long. The Borneo equivalent of the terraced house? We had brought gifts of rice wine for the adults and balloons for the kids, so after arriving, and being offered a small glass of rice wine (more than enough!), we spent quite some time blowing up 100 balloons, and giving them to the kids. There were those who were too scared to come up to get one, but sent their parents instead, and then there were others who seemed to finish the afternoon with tens of balloons which someone had helpfully tied together for them to let them run along the balcony with the balloons streaming behind them. The balloons were very well received by the kids, some of their enthusiasm could perhaps be attributed to the fact that they had all been away at boarding school all week, but were home for the weekend!

The longhouse we visited:

Ah, digital cameras and balloons, all you need to keep kids entertained: We were lucky enough to be invited into one man’s house which gave us a really good idea of the layout of the houses and a bit of an insight into how the people live. Our guide, Ham, told us a little bit of background to the inhabitants of this particular longhouse. A new dam is under construction upriver from the longhouse and it has caused the river to silt up, which has killed all of the fish and driven away the crocodiles, and is making life very difficult for them.

After a good night’s sleep in Belaga, we headed off in two 4WDs. Accompanied by a rather eclectic mix of music (Celine Dion to Barbie Girl, and some very hectic dance music), we headed up over logging roads dominated by logging trucks that have supreme right of way, and free licence to travel on whichever side of the road they choose. A couple of hours later we arrived at Niah National Park, and checked into some very lovely cabins – 2 large rooms with 4 beds each, and then a living area, and, most exciting of all, a BBQ! For both nights we stayed there we were treated to a BBQ dinner (chicken wings, apparently the rest of the chickens are exported, so only the chicken wings remain in the shops…) and, SALAD! Despite my earlier statements in the Stans, tomato and cucumber have never tasted so good! Perhaps it was the lack of dill…

A red millipede:

Niah NP is home to a huge cave housing approximately half a million bats, and about the same number of swiftlet birds. On our second afternoon at Niah, I headed off with Rich, Elaine and Pete to explore the caves. Armed with headtorches we headed deep into the caves, finding bats (and their associated guano on which I managed to slip and graze my elbow… who has a grazed elbow at my age?) and eventually some of the oldest cave paintings in the world.

To the bat cave, batman:

From Niah we headed to Miri, our first proper city for a while, and planned our celebration for the fact that tomorrow is our 6 month anniversary of leaving London! Time has flown.

“Welcome to the Jungle” (Guns’n’Roses)

2008-10-06T09:46:00.004+01:00

After 24 weeks and 3 days it was time for the group to split, with 8 of us (including 1 crew) heading to Borneo and Brunei, and the remaining 11 (after Carolyn had left us a couple of days earlier in Kuala Lumpur) headed to Singapore and then on to Australia, Hong Kong, or back to the UK. It was hard to believe that we had been away for over 24 weeks, and that people who had been strangers but were now like family would no longer be around, so there were a few tears shed by various members of the group as the Borneo crew headed off in a mini-bus to Johor Bahru airport for the short flight to Kuching in Sarawak, Borneo.

But perhaps I should start with the farewell that we had had the night before. What started as a sedate dinner at a nice café (but, let’s face it, was never destined to remain so) ended up with Mike T performing his now world famous song “My Lovely Truck”. For those who have never experienced it, it is hard to describe, but suffice it to say it was an experience that no-one in that bar will ever forget, no matter how much therapy they attend. Hopefully Rich will upload the video so you can see for yourselves on his blog… Brace yourselves… We had also had a round of the first truly drinkable “Odyssey Blue” cocktails (perhaps because Pete had not been able to add tequila into the mix), and had worn party hats and scared off other diners with our frequent and ferocious use of the party blowers that had been provided for Mike H’s birthday.

And so to Borneo. We arrived into Kuching late one evening and headed straight out for a quick drink to have a chat about what was to come in the next couple of weeks. As Pete has not been here before, the trip is largely exploratory, although guided by experiences of friends of his who have been here before. After a night in a dorm (must have been a bit of a surprise for the guy in our room to wake up with 5 girls asleep around him!) we headed off to explore the town of Kuching (but not before moving to air-conditioned twin rooms it must be said!). The town is based around a river and has several colonial style buildings, together with some Chinese temples and a strange fascination with cats (there are several large cat statues around the town).

Michael S, Elaine, Jen and Jo at the water feature in front of the War Heroes Monument in Kuching:

In the afternoon we headed off to the Orangutan sanctuary and were lucky enough to see 7 orangutans feeding - they are truly amazing creatures (the first of several amazing creatures we have already seen in our 4 days here) and it was fascinating to watch the interplay between the adults and the children, and the adults themselves (including the female who, protecting her baby, gave one of the males a very decent punch!).

The mother with the good punch picking up some take-away for dinner: The next morning it was off to Bako National Park which involved a trip on a local bus (very bouncy!) and then a boat ride to the park HQ.

Michael S, Jo and myself on the boat to the national park:

After a quick lunch and putting our day packs into storage we headed off on a walk through the jungle to find a beautiful beach which was populated only by some large Dutch tourists.

On our beach, the Borneo crew - Rich, Alexa, Michael S, Elaine, me, Jen and Jo (with Pete behind the camera):

With Elaine on the beach:

Fortunately there was a boat on hand to take most of us back to the main HQ, and an afternoon was spent chilling and reading books until we heard that there was a large group of Proboscis Monkeys near the jetty and we headed down there and were lucky enough to see them feeding and moving through, including a huge male with the characteristic massive nose.

Mr Proboscis Monkey: After a little more chill time we eventually headed to the beach to watch the amazing sunset, had a bite to eat (fortunately without the nasty monkeys that had haunted our breakfast as they stole food off our plates!) and headed out for a night safari.

The sunset: Given my experience in Chaing Mai I have to say that I was a little hesitant… but there was no need to be, as this was a true night walk through the jungle with a great guide who was able to find things that we never would have seen without him! Highlights included the green pit viper (not a highlight for me, it must be said, still hate snakes), noisy frogs, amazingly intricate stick insects, and the fireflies under a starry, moonlight sky.

The girls readiy for a night safari, complete with head torches!:

Froggy:

Stick insect:

Horrible green pit viper (thanks to Rich for this photo, no way would I have been this close!): The next day I headed off early with Pete (Rich, who had agreed to come along the night before decided to sleep in, who would have thought??) and we walked up and over a massive hill, through jungle and then scrub reminiscent of Duke of Edinburgh hikes in Australia, and then finally descended down to what turned out to be our own private beach! We had expected crowds to arrive, but no-one appeared other than a couple of water-shy tourists with big cameras, and a very patient boatman who was kind enough to take us back to the main centre after we had spent a couple of hours reading and trying to decide whether the animal head that we saw in the water was a crocodile, otter or water monitor lizard… We liked to think otter.

Private beach:

Private beach and chauffeur to take us back home!:

Amazing rock formations:

"Welcome to Paradise" (Green Day)

2008-09-30T05:21:00.006+01:00

After a very easy border crossing again (got to love south-east Asia), we were in Malaysia. Our first stop was Penang (or Georgetown), a town on the island of Pulau Penang. Entering the city across a very impressive bridge, the bright lights and big city look of the place was a bit of a surprise after having been at the beach for a while! Penang is a very clean city, the first of what I assume will be several clean cities. We found the hotel and arrived just about the same time as all the others who had come down from Surat Thani while we (Edel, Mike, Shinnick, Maura and Jo) had come directly from Phuket. So we headed out en mass for dinner, eventually splitting into two groups – those who wanted western food, and those who wanted local food. The local food group headed to a night market where almost every Asian cuisine was represented in some way. As a slight treat, a couple of us even had oysters! All the food was accompanied by some slightly strange Chinese music and couples dancing in the midst of the plastic tables and food smells! The view from our hotel in Penang:

The next day I headed off on a walking tour of the main sights of Penang. Ann was my hapless victim as I found her along the way and dragged her with me. Our first observation was that Penang doesn’t open until about 11am. Coffee shops and restaurants were firmly closed and shuttered, leaving us the rather unappealing option of eating breakfast at a food stall in the foyer of an office block – a food experience best forgotten, particularly the unintentionally fizzy mango juice.

Then it was time to wander the streets, and our second observation was that Penang was very hot and humid. Within minutes we were drenched and wondering when we could return to the hotel and the air-conditioning! But we soldiered on and made our third observation – that the walking tour of Penang does not take much time at all! We saw the outside of a Catholic Church (the front doors were locked and did not even appear to have a key hole or handle, but the noticeboard assured us that services were held there!), the outside of the museum, the outside of the art gallery, and then, finally, both the inside and the outside of the Cornwallis Fort. The museum at the fort provided us with many interesting facts about the fort and about Penang itself, together with some history about the East India Company. The son of the founder of the fort was later the founder of Adelaide. We were warned to watch out for the wild horses at the fort, but none were forthcoming. The most dangerous animal we encountered was a wolf-whistling parrot.

The City Hall:

The chapel at Fort Cornwallis:

The cannon at Fort Cornwallis, with highrises off in the distance:

After the fort we continued to walk around and went to the HSBC Bank on Downing Street, which is right next to the Royal Bank of Scotland… so no evidence of colonial roots then… After a mission to the shopping centre to find a new watch for our fearless leader (including the scariest, most deserted shopping centre I have ever been in), we spent the afternoon enjoying a cheeky bottle of wine and a bit of a chat before heading back to the night market for dinner (but no oysters this time, they didn’t look fresh).

From Penang it was time to head back to the beach. Our journey took us first to the port of Kuala Besut, a journey that was supposed to take 9 hours took us only about 4, so we had the afternoon to wander the town. That took about 2 minutes (there was only one café open thanks to Ramadan, and it was otherwise a pretty standard fishing village), so it left the rest of the afternoon for catching up on reading, journals and sleep. The town finally came alive around dusk, and the restaurants were rammed immediately after the sunset. We enjoyed a lovely meal, and then headed back to the hotel for an early night.

The harbour at Kuala Besut:

The next morning we boarded speedboats for the journey to the Perhentian Islands, about a 30 minute ride from Kuala Besut. The trip across was fantastic fun, crashing across the waves powered by 400 bhp! We arrived at our destination and home for the next 4 nights, and it was exactly as we expected from the name – Paradise Beach. Clear green water, bright blue sky, clean white sand. And our accommodation was right on the beach.

Coming ashore at the Perhentian Islands:

After a bite to eat for lunch, Pete took Rich and myself to the dive shop and after a pretty easy sell by the dive shop manager, Rich and I both signed up to do our Open Water diving course (there were no jet skis, so what else were we going to do??). And so the next four days were spent in a blur of videos, reading the manual, doing knowledge tests, and of course, diving. Despite identifying a couple of issues which impacted upon our learning process (I am rubbish at just breathing in and out through my mouth underwater when I don’t have my nose blocked, and Rich is afraid of fish), we both passed and are now qualified Open Water Divers (to a max of 18 metres). The dives were great, heaps of amazing fish and coral to see, and plenty of inspiration to do more diving in Borneo and beyond.

But it wasn’t all hard work – in an afternoon off, we headed off to join some of the others who were snorkelling at the beach around the corner, and were lucky enough to see several turtles gracefully swimming through the water, or feeding (less gracefully, it must be said) on sea grasses. We also saw the fantastic sight of a huge school of fish feasting on coral – the sound of crunching was amazing. The islands were a tropical paradise, unspoilt unlike so many of the beaches and islands around south-east asia. The isolation (there are no cars or roads, everything comes in from the mainland, and is transported around and between the islands by boat) and relatively basic facilities (including no powerpoints in the rooms!), made us feel a million miles away from the real world.

The storm on the way back to the mainland:

The return journey was a bit less idyllic than our journey out as a massive storm threatened overhead, but in the end delivered only a few spots of rain and a howling wind, and then we were back on the mainland and heading to Kuala Lumpur by overnight train.

Elaine, Mike and Edel on the overnight train:

“On the Beach” (Chris Rea)

2008-09-21T02:26:00.007+01:00

And so it was time for “beach week”. A chance for everyone to have their perfect beach holiday in whatever way they wanted to. For me, the perfect beach holiday went something like this – sleep, eat, swim, eat, swim, eat, sleep. Repeat. It is a tough life. Bang Tao beach on the island of Phuket (note the crowds...): Sunsets and happy hours: Sunsets: Artistic tree photo: Me on the crowded beach: Looking back over Kata, Kata Noi and Karon beaches: Signs like this are all over the island, along with evacuation routes, shelters and warnings of when you are entering or leaving the tsunami hazard zone: Another crowded beach photo: Another sunset:

“Crocodile Rock” (Elton John)

2008-09-11T10:19:00.006+01:00

From Phnom Penh we headed to Siem Reap. This tourist-based town has an amazing array of restaurants and bars, including a converted warehouse that has a tank (well, more like flooded foundations if the truth be told) with live saltwater crocodiles. Crocodile is also on the menu, but I am not sure whether you get to choose your meal… But Siem Reap’s real function is as a base for exploration of Angkor Wat and the other temples nearby. And so we set off at silly o’clock on a fleet of tuk tuks to get processed into the temple complex, and then to join the masses watching the sunrise over Angkor Wat. Angkor Wat is said to be the eighth wonder of the world (if there were eight), and is a very impressive sight. Our informative local guide took us round the temple, explaining the wall carvings and mythologies underlying them. Early morning at Angkor Wat:

Me at Angkor Wat (it was early!):

The group walking back to the entrance gate of Angkor Wat:

Monks at Angkor Wat:

We then spent the rest of the morning going round some of the other temples, including a temple that was never finished as it was struck by lightning 15 years into construction which was taken to be a bad omen, so construction was abandoned.

The unfinished temple:

Climbing down from the unfinished temple:

We saw another temple decorated with wall carvings showing battles between the Khmers and would-be invaders. We went to the Royal Palace which had a huge swimming pool in which the king’s 2,000 concubines would swim (he must have been a busy man).

The Royal Palace pool, and maybe the last concubine?: After stopping for lunch and a bit of respite from the heat, we headed to the final temple of our tour – the one used in the Tombraider movie. Despite several of the boys’ disappointment at Lara Croft not being in residence, this was the favourite temple of many of us. It is in ruins and the decision has been made to leave it in this state, not to restore it. The result is a mass of moss covered rocks, intact remnants of parts of the temple, and the most amazing trees growing from several of the roofs, with huge roots hanging down to the ground.

Jo, C and myself in the foreground, Tim and our guide in the background:

One of the roof-growing trees:

Me at the tombraider temple:

Elaine "Lara Croft" Evans at the Tombraider temple:

After all that hectic templing, it was time to have a day off, so the next day was dominated by doing a whole lot of nothing, and eventually managing to make it to the roof terrace at the hotel for wine and cheese (and Tim Tams!).

But Jo, Ann and I decided to embark on a bit more culture the following day, with a trip on the river and the Tonle Sap Lake to look at the river houses and general life on the river. After a half hour tuk tuk ride we found ourselves on a wooden boat which had rather luxurious seats, and no other passengers. So we headed off along the river with our guide providing us with much information (at times, too much…). We saw pigs in a floating pen, a floating school, countless boats of all varieties, houses on stilts, and lots of river weed. River houses: Floating Catholic church:

When we got to the lake, our driver helpfully turned off the engine so that we could enjoy the serenity for a while, be accosted by the ever-present vendors (“lady, you want cold drink?"), and have our guide ask us what ages we were (“I don’t believe you are that old. If you were in Cambodia, that would be very old.”)

The floating shop:

After sitting serenely on the lake for 10 minutes, we headed back down the river to the fish and crocodile farm. While the catfish were not all that awe-inspiring, the crocodiles were. They were larger than we had expected, and some of them looked quite mean! After peering down at them for a while, we headed inside to the souvenir shop to look at the unique offerings which somehow look the same as everywhere else in south-east Asia.

Big croc:

It was while standing around waiting for our boat to return us to the mainland that the highlight of our little expedition happened. Bearing in mind that it was Ann, Jo and myself who ended up having our photo taken with an ill-tempered baby puma at the Chaing Mai Night Safari, you can only imagine our delight when the following opportunity presented itself…

With our reptilian friend:

“The Haircut” (The Waifs)

2008-09-10T05:24:00.002+01:00

Well, it wasn’t all dark and depressing in Saigon and Phnom Penh… we did of course find ways to enjoy ourselves… There were the usual drinks and dinners (including a 2 litre fishbowl of vodka and sprite for one of our Irish contingent, and the invention of a drinking game involving picking up an ice cube with chopsticks and rotating it around your head) and a bit of shopping (at the most insane electrical store I have ever been to – pumping music and a massive crowd outside to launch the new range of… washing machines). There was a visit to a night market (“You like this t-shirt? It is my own design” – yet remarkably the next stall had the same designs), and an amazing seafood dinner in the markets where we arrived in a biggish group and resulted in some poor unsuspecting locals being told to move tables mid-soup. In Phnom Penh we visited the National Museum (which has a very nice courtyard, and a few exhibits which we were relying on Shinnick to take photos of) and also went to the Royal Palace to admire the beautiful architecture and decoration. We had lunch and a group game of Connect 4 (well, Rich and Maura were playing and the rest of us were oohing and aahing if we disagreed with any of their moves). The National Museum:

The Royal Palace:

Even monks take photos at the Royal Palace: Rich and Maura deeply engrossed in Connect 4: And for me, there was a visit to a hairdresser in Saigon for a long overdue set of highlights to sort out the somewhat dark re-growth that was making a mockery of my blonde-ness by indicating to others that perhaps I was not a natural blonde! As if! So I headed off to the same hairdresser that had finally sorted out Tim and Pete’s hair, and chose the blonde colours that he would put through. Every hairdresser does things their own way, and it is hard not to get a little worried as they work away, but I tried to relax and rely on the fact that he seemed to know what he was doing. After the foils were taken out, and my hair was washed, blow dried and straightened (what a luxury, although a little short lived in this humidity), I finally allowed myself a proper look… And found I was brunette! A bit of a shock, but something I have been meaning to do for a while, so it is all good! The new brunette me:

“Untitled”

2008-09-10T05:10:00.003+01:00

Up until Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City) and then Phnom Penh, it would be fair to say that our visit to south-east asia had been dominated by fun and games – beaches, jet skiing, parties, drinks and food. But a visit to this part of the world, and Vietnam and Cambodia in particular, must necessarily encompass some effort to understand what has shaped these nations. Both Vietnam and Cambodia’s recent history is dominated by invasion and intervention by other countries, war and mass genocide. In one guise or another, Vietnam was at war for over 120 years, either against would be, or successful invaders, or civil war. Cambodia suffered brutally at the hands of the Khmer Rouge, and in the space of only 3 years, it is estimated that over 2 million Cambodians lost their lives either through execution, or through starvation or malnutrition, while yet others were victims of the Vietnam War which spilled over the border.

On the first day in Saigon I visited the Cu Chi tunnels, an important VC stronghold about 2 hours from the city. On arriving at the Cu Chi tunnels site, we were first led to a theatre to watch an excellent example of propaganda about the struggle of the Vietnamese against the Americans which, despite the subject matter, proved to be quite amusing, ranking right up there with the Stalin Museum in Gori for a one sided report of things. We were then taken around the site of the tunnels. At the end of the war there were 258km of tunnels through which the VC could effectively hide from the Americans. The most immediately striking thing about the tunnels was their size. The entrance hatch to the tunnels was only big enough for the smallest of our group to get through, and when we descended into the tunnels themselves, it was a challenge to walk through them, and they had been widened for western tourists (because we are fat, our guide cheerfully told us). On display was also a range of the traps that the VC used to injure, maim or kill enemy troops (or their dogs). Several of our group decided to head to the firing range afterwards to let off some steam through the medium of the AK-47, while others of us stood back and tried to cover our ears, as the noise was far louder than any of us expected! Our tour of the tunnels complete, we headed back to Saigon on a speed boat. The entranceway to the tunnels: Rich shooting a camera not a gun: My second brush with the Vietnam War in Saigon, saw me visit the War Remnants Museum. On display in the courtyard were a number of US Army weapons, aircraft and tanks. But the inside of the museum held a vast collection of photographs demonstrating the atrocities perpetrated by the Americans and I saw several images which will stay with me for years to come. I was somewhat quiet and, it must be said, a little teary afterwards. The courtyard at the War Remnants Museum: From Saigon we headed across the Cambodian border to Phnom Penh, the capital. The crew had organised for us to do a guided tour of the S-21 Museum and the Killing Fields, so we headed off en mass with a local guide to give us background to what we would be seeing, and also to explain a little more about the country that Cambodia is now. The S-21 Museum (or the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum to give its full official title) is based at the former Khmer Rouge S-21 Prison and was the site of the imprisonment, interrogation and torture of an estimated 10,000+ adults and 2,000 children over the years 1975 to 1978 (if the parents were arrested, the children were also arrested so that they could not grow up and avenge their parents death). The cells have been left in fairly original condition, and there are still some blood stains visible on the floor. There are a large number of photographs showing both the Khmer Rouge soldiers (they recruited boys between the ages of 13 and 16), and the victims. Only 7 people survived the S-21 prison. There were paintings of the torture methods used, and examples of the instruments used. The methods of torture was a reminder of the horrific creativity of humans in designing ways to inflict pain on their fellow man. From the S-21 Museum we drove to the Killing Fields which is where the majority of the people from the S-21 Prison were killed if they had not already died during their torture. At one stage up to 300 people per week were being killed at the Cheong Ek Killing Fields that we visited. The entrance way is now dominated by a stupa which has been built to commemorate the dead, and contains the skulls of over 8,000 victims. We then walked around the area which frequently dips down into craters which were mass graves, some containing over 400 bodies when excavated. One of the shallower craters was roped off with a sign saying “Please don’t walk on the mass grave”. That particular crater was just next to a tree off which they hung a loudspeaker which broadcast music to drown out the moans of the victims prior to their execution. It was all pretty upsetting stuff (sunglasses were definitely required), particularly when you wonder if we won’t be seeing similar memorials in years to come resulting from the current conflicts around the world.

“Crazy” (Gnarls Barkley)

2008-09-03T12:09:00.002+01:00

From Nha Trang we headed inland to the slightly strange city of Dalat. While the population of 130,000 in the Lonely Planet should have given some indication, it was still a surprise to most of us that it was such a large place. Our hotel was lovely, with an amazing Jacuzzi bath, however it took us a bit of time to adapt to a place that was clearly not used to many western tourists, after the very westernised towns of Hue, Hoi An and Nha Trang that we had just visited. Two of the highlights of Dalat are the Crazy House and the cable car. The Crazy House is a hotel that has been designed by a woman with a PhD in architecture and, I would suggest, a sense of humour and a slightly unusual imagination. Maura, Michael S, Jo, C, Carolyn and myself walked around the various themed rooms that she has created including the Kangaroo Room (dominated by a rather demonic looking red-eyed kangaroo), and the Land Eagle Room (again dominated by its namesake, and with a very nice little table around which we sat for a while until interrupted by some very apologetic American tourists!) Michael S, Carolyn & Maura at the Crazy House:

The Aussies, Jo and myself, with the demonic kangaroo:

Michael S has Gone Fishin':

From the Crazy House Jo, Michael and myself headed back to the hotel and then into a taxi to get to the cable car. The base station at one end is dominated by a café and a souvenir shop, and a carpark. We met Tim and Cheryl there and all headed to the cable car. The 2.3km journey took us across pine forests and gave us a chance to admire the mountains that surround Dalat. The other end of the cable car was also dominated by a café, souvenir shop (complete with a Buddha in a cowboy hat) and a car park and did lead a couple of us to ask what the point of the cable car actually was. However after pausing to contemplate over an ice-cream we decided to wander up the hill, and it was an excellent decision as it led us through a complex of pagodas and monastery related buildings, some hilarious topiary and down a hill to the reservoir. Unfortunately the anticipated motorcycle taxis were not waiting for us at the bottom, so it was people power back up to the top and on to the cable car for the return journey.

On the cable car with Jo: When we had first driven into Dalat, a couple of us had become very excited by the pedalos on the lake that were in the shape of swans. So, after the cable car we headed off to meet up with some of the others for a stint of “swanning”. We soon discovered that pedalos are (a) not romantic (thanks to Tim & Cheryl for that information) and (b) hard work (thanks to everyone for that information). We also discovered that you can’t really play dodgems with them very effectively as you don’t exactly generate enough speed. But you have to give us credit for continuing to try anyway!

“Lola” (The Kinks)

2008-09-03T11:55:00.005+01:00

We arrived into Nha Trang just after dark after being slightly delayed by a flat tyre on the bus which was swiftly dealt with by the drivers, with assistance from Pete of course. Not bad that it is our first flat tyre of the whole trip given how far we have travelled. Upon arriving, we discovered that Nha Trang was a massive resort town (with a heavy Australian influence it must be said). I am not sure too many of us were expecting to see so much neon, not to mention high rise hotels and names like Novotel and Crowne Plaza. But we swiftly adapted as we realised that we were at a hotel right in the middle of things (with the all important wireless internet of course!), and next to a lovely restaurant. A quick dinner and then off to bed after a tiring couple of days.

I was still a physical wreck after jet skiing, as was Elaine (and, it must be mentioned, so were Rich, Michael S, Chris, Tim and Pete), so Elaine and I headed off for a massage. As has been the trend for all the massages I have had on this trip (and there have been a few), it turned into a bit of an adventure sport as the masseur pushed, pulled and slapped my aching muscles. I was very proud that I only cried out once in pain! It helped a bit, and Elaine and I were able to hobble slightly more quickly back to the hotel.

Nha Trang was our first proper beach stay (we were a whole 5km away from the beach in Hoi An) and we were all keen to enjoy the beach and the water. There was also the pressing issue of Tim’s Birthday, and having a suitable party to welcome him to the 30 club (it has an illustrious, and exclusive membership), and so the crew had organised a boat to take us to an island for a beach bbq. We were all very excited, and so we headed off to the shop to stock up on important supplies (vodka for us, and evil little B52 and tequila shots for Tim) before bundling into taxis and heading to the port. Our boat came complete with eskys full of ice, and we all got settled in for the journey across the beautiful blue water, under clear blue skies and the cable car which runs across from the mainland to an island. After about half an hour we reached our destination and unpacked the boat. Leaving the crew to prepare the meal, most of us headed off into the water, and we even got Jen in the water up to her waist! We were all very proud! I am not sure we can put all of the success down to our encouragement, as I feel that the local Vietnamese red wine may have also played a part… We bobbed around in the water watching the sun setting over the hills, and feeling pretty good about life in general.

Carolyn & Pete chilling on the boat:

The view from the beach:

Looking glam!: It was then time to head back to the beach and find out what the crew had managed to put together for dinner. And it was absolutely amazing. The most outstanding prawns that I have had in years (proper big prawns, not the scrawny UK ones), and tender pork steaks, all accompanied by salad and fresh bread. Suitably fed, it was time to create havoc, and so we all headed off across the beach to a party for about 200 locals. Crashing the party provided Tim with ample opportunity to demonstrate his unique dancing style to a whole new audience. The party was winding up about 8ish, so we headed back to the boat and to the mainland, where several of the group continued to create havoc in bars and clubs until the early hours.

Edel and me:

The prawns:

Rich, C, Jen, Alexa & Maura:

Maura & Alexa:

Elaine & Chris:

Edel and an unimpressed looking Mike:

Pete & the Birthday Boy Tim:

Rich and me:

It was up early the next day for our first scuba diving of the trip. Pete was very keen for everyone to try diving (although his enthusiasm on the day was somewhat tempered by the after effects of Tim’s party) and there were 6 divers and 1 snorkeller on board the bus to the dive boat ready for our next adventure. After a briefing by the dive masters on board, a 45 minute boat ride out to the marine park, and getting kitted up in wetsuits, air tanks and goggles (including prescription ones for Jo who was very excited that she would be able to see!), we set out on our first dive. Each of us was accompanied by a dive master, and we headed off in pairs. Rich and I were diving together and Rich’s dive master was particularly obsessed by his underwater camera, so we have many, many images of our dives! As we meandered along amongst the fish and coral, getting used to the concept of breathing underwater we saw some amazing and beautiful sights. We came up from our first dive very keen to get back down, and after a quick baguette (got to love the French influence) and a bit of sunbaking on the deck, we got kitted up again and headed under the water. The second dive gave us a chance to spend a bit more time looking around. It is very calm underwater with nothing but the sound of your, and your companions, breathing to disturb the silence. We all emerged keen to do more diving, and there will be plenty of opportunities going forward in Thailand, Malaysia and Borneo.

Diving with Rich: After all that activity it was time to chill out on the beach, so when we returned from diving I headed off to watch the world go by in the shade on the beach opposite the hotel. The day was flying, and it was time to go to dinner, and then head back to the hotel and to bed. However, my plans for an early night were thwarted by, well, myself really… Rich had met up with his neighbour from home and was keen to go out for a drink, so off we went. Jo, Alexa and I sensibly headed off fairly early, while the boys continued on and managed to lose various belongings and gain bruises from women with large adam’s apples. But I will leave those stories to them…

"Underwater love" (Smoke City)

2008-09-01T08:06:00.002+01:00

Another day, another adventure sport. This time, scuba diving off the coast of Vietnam near Nha Trang. Happily the dive master had an underwater camera, so I could be captured in my full glory!

“Everybody Hurts” (REM)

2008-08-29T13:05:00.004+01:00

Although Hue is on the coast, it did not provide us with beaches, and so when we finally saw the sea on our drive to Hoi An, it was fantastic – we were all so excited that what had started as a quick comfort stop ended up with most of us running onto the beach and getting our feet wet (and sandy… Don’t think the bus driver was impressed!). The sun was shining and the combination of white sandy beach, gently rolling waves and warm water was amazing. Reluctantly we re-boarded the coach and headed along the coast. The road was excellent, and included a rather impressive 6.3km long tunnel. The final part of the drive saw us follow the beaches, and see the huge amount of beachfront development that is going on. Hoi An is about 5km from the beach, and is home to hundreds of tailoring shops. Many of the girls (and some of the boys) were keen to get clothes made, and so headed off as soon as we arrived to get measured and chose fabrics and designs, while a couple of us headed off to the beach and found a rather idyllic bar on the beachfront for a quiet G&T while the sun set. On our first full day in Hoi An I headed off with Edel, Jen, Jo and Ann on a bus and boat tour to My Son, an important set of ruins about an hour from Hoi An. Again we had been blessed with a beautiful blue sky day, with the associated stinking hot temperature! Our tour of the ruins was a little half-hearted it must be said, as we dashed from shade to shade… Then it was back onto the coach for short trip to the boat for the rest of the journey. Travelling along the river at boat pace gives you plenty of opportunity to appreciate the scenery and get a glimpse of the way of life of those who live on the river. We stopped at a woodworking village which is on an island right near Hoi An, and resisted the temptation to buy their wares. Then it was back to Hoi An and on to the important task of buying more clothes. Edel had a first fitting for one of her dresses, and Ann was instructing the dressmaker about the dress her daughter had asked her to make, accompanied by photos on her camera. I saw a dress which I wanted for wearing at the beach, and ended up accidentally getting one made for me. Oops. Other people had suits, long dresses, shorts, tops and even boots made. After all that shopping it was time to head to the beach, so we piled into a taxi and headed off. The ruins at My Son: The crew were already at the beach and were hard to miss as Tim was finally getting the opportunity to use his kite-surfing gear! After a dip in the water, which is so warm in the afternoon that it is almost too warm, we set up on the loungers under an umbrella and enjoyed some G&Ts served by a very cheeky waitress! Pete & Tim in their very fetching helmets and very manly scooters: The next day the action woman within resurfaced and I headed off with Tim, Rich, Michael S, Chris & Elaine to go jet-skiing. We were doing a tour up the river, but first Rich was keen to have a bit of time just playing around on the jet skis. I wasn’t that keen, but went along with it, and after the first three went out, it was my turn. I headed off and soon discovered that not only did I like it, but I loved it. I was racing full throttle across the waves, bouncing around and laughing like a madman. Doing a donut on a jet ski didn’t really interest me until I did one, then I almost made myself dizzy spinning around! My 10 minutes of rampant stupidity was over far too soon and we picked up the others and headed off along the river section. Once I had worked out how to hold on as a passenger, it was all good! We pelted along the river, passing traditional fishing boats and fishing nets, dredgers and some very low bridges! Half way through it was time to swap drivers, and so it was my turn again. The sound of the engine almost drowned out Tim’s screaming and yelling of “Karcher, you are going to kill us” as I managed to get airborne and land sideways a number of times. But we got home safely, and as they say, a miss is as good as a mile… Although after he relayed the stories after we got back, I don’t think too many of the group will volunteer to get in a car with me… From jet skiing, to cooking. After a slightly longer than anticipated motorbike ride home, courtesy of my continued “running out of fuel” curse, it was off to a Vietnamese cooking course with Edel & Mike T, Jo and Ann. We made spring rolls, grilled fish in banana leaf, and beef with lemongrass, garlic and chilli. It was all delicious, and seemed deceptively easy to make… We will see… Cooking with Ann, Mike T, Edel & Jo: After all that activity it was time to relax, so we headed to the beach. Unfortunately as Pete had not been on a jet ski in the morning he hired one, and so started us all off, and next thing we had three jet skis out playing in the waves which had picked up from the morning. I was cajoled (well, ok, not really) into going out for 10 minutes, and armed with the knowledge that I survived the morning session, went even more nuts. I scared myself silly at some stages, but had an absolute blast! OK, not quite Ursula Andress, but happy and in one piece! Then it was time to relax, bob up and down in the water and find a shady spot to enjoy the afternoon. G&T in hand, watching the water and the sunset… doing it tough! Treated myself to a nice dinner at a riverside restaurant and found the Vietnamese dishes that I had been looking for – Pho Bo, and fresh spring rolls – which were delicious (almost better than at Randwick Vietnamese Restaurant)! Ok, so it doesn't look that impressive in the photo, but in reality I was at least 10 feet off the water... well, it felt like it anyway...: The next morning was a very early start, 6am on the bus. When the alarm went off at stupid o’clock I went to get up and discovered the downside of all that fun on a jet ski. I could barely move! My muscles hurt from head to toe (well, no, my toes were fine. The pain stopped about at my ankles, just below the lovely bruises on my calves). Would still go back and do it again tomorrow!

“I come from a land down under” (Men at Work)

2008-08-29T12:54:00.003+01:00

From Vientiane we headed to Savannakhet, a town near the border with Vietnam, for a transit stop. Then it was up early the next day and on board our air conditioned coach to get to Hue in Vietnam. We had to dash to the border which apparently closes between 11am and 1pm, and had a very civilised border crossing (excluding the small incident with a passport that went missing for a while causing significant consternation, but not bad given that it is the first of such incidents in 19 weeks of travelling thus far). Then we were in Vietnam. We headed straight across the country to the coast. We arrived into Hue in the afternoon and got set up in the hotel which was, as usual, right in the centre of things. A quick lunch at the DMZ bar and then Cheryl and I wandered around the shops looking at clothes (we weren’t to know what Hoi An was going to be like…) After the relatively conservative countries we have been travelling through, we are now in countries that are very used to tourists, and where being covered up, while sensible mainly from a sun protection point of view, is not a requirement. And it is fair to say that most of our clothing is reaching the stage where it needs to be replaced! The next day, Jo and I headed off on a boat trip down the river. Ann, Rich, Elaine, Chris and Shinnick had headed off for the DMZ tour, and many of the others were touring the citadel in Hue, so the group had pretty much all of the sights well covered. Our boat was a rather strange square platform with some decorative dragons on the front, and a rather helpful “tourist boat” sign on the side (as if there was any doubt!). We headed up the river, our first stop being a pagoda which is one of the most important sites in Vietnam, and which displays the car which a monk drove himself in through the streets of Hanoi before setting fire to himself in protest at religious oppression. Then we headed further up the river visiting a number of tombs which are large complexes of buildings which people built for themselves during their lifetime, using them as palaces, and then they became monuments to them after their deaths. Two of the tombs were old and partially in ruins, but set in amazing gardens, with lakes and, fortunately, some shade! For the first time in a while we were seeing bright sunshine and blue skies, and with it came incredible heat! Bring on the clouds I say! The third of the tombs was the most recent, and inside was covered with amazing mosaic tiling. The tour included “motorcycle transfers” – we assumed (incorrectly it would appear) that this would mean tuk-tuks, however upon arriving at the drop-off point we were confronted with a gaggle of motorcycle drivers thrusting helmets in our direction and waving us over to their bikes. River boat (not the one we were on, ours was square): Pagoda: The tomb: Inside the tomb: From the tombs we headed back along the river to Hue, and hid in the hotel for a while enjoying the air conditioning and WiFi. We started corralling the troops around 7ish to head to a restaurant just up the road from the hotel, and then on to the bar on the corner which Jo and I had particularly enjoyed as it reminded us of pubs back in Australia (apparently it is a southern hemisphere thing as the South Africans on the trip also agreed!). After a delicious dinner of traditional Hue food, we headed to the bar, and the party commenced. It was a great night with almost everyone there, some rather drinkable Odyssey Blue cocktails (the one that you get given when you leave the trip is evil, these were actually quite nice), and the opportunity to write on the walls in marker pen which is always exciting. A couple of the group had written some limericks extolling the virtues of the Odyssey tour, Pete Tim and Cheryl, and talking about some of the exploits of individuals along the way. The winners were chosen and written on walls and ceilings, wherever we could find space, and then we all signed our names up on the ceiling. Leaving our mark on the DMZ bar: As usual, we started requesting songs (they had already played “I come from a land down under”, so didn’t need to request that!) and they didn’t have the group favourite, “Put your hands up for Detroit”, but they did have an ipod connection, so my ipod was handed over and provided the music for most of the remainder of the evening (thanks to Rich for reminding me to pick it up the next day… that would have been a disaster!). Fortunately the shuffle-uffagus was kind. There was a trip Odyssey Overland And nothing went quite as planned But we still had great craic* And no one wants to go back Coz as far as we care it is all grand * Irish, for a good time, as in “havin’ da craic” Odyssey Blues:

Cheers!

“Can’t speak French” (Girls Aloud)

2008-08-22T03:38:00.006+01:00

Our last night in Chaing Mai saw Jo, Ann and myself head off in our second attempt of the trip to see a tiger. We had read a good report in the Lonely Planet about the Chaing Mai Night Safari, so we headed off on the longest tuk-tuk ride ever (well, until Vientiane, but that is coming later) out to the safari. We arrived just in time to go on the English speaking tour which was great (if lucky) timing on our behalf. So we headed off, full of anticipation… only to realise that we were in a zoo and we would be going on “safari” in an open bus with about 60 other people, and a man with a spotlight who dutifully turned it on as we arrived at each enclosure and revealed some very irritated looking animals. We did manage to see tigers (3 different species), and we were also able to see kangaroos and a dingo which the guide described as looking like a tiger (gave Jo and myself some reason to doubt that she had ever actually seen one up close…). And you can imagine our thrill at being able to see a water buffalo, because we hadn’t seen quite enough of them in India, Nepal or Thailand for that matter!

Jo, Ann and I have never laughed so hard. When we returned to the central compound for the “musical waterfall” (think laser lights and fountains set to music including the star wars theme… all class) we saw the opportunity to record our visit in style, and we had our photo taken with a quite unhappy (and smelly) baby puma. Our night was then topped off by our tuk-tuk running out of fuel (I seem to jinx any transport we are on!) and being towed by another tuk-tuk to the tuk-tuk petrol station where, upon arriving, all the staff at the petrol station proceeded to laugh at us for being in a tuk-tuk with no petrol. Charming!

Jo, Ann, the puma and me:

The next day we headed off into mini-vans (with the all important air conditioning) for the drive towards the Laos border. Our first stop along the way was some hot springs, unfortunately not swimming material, but the locals were using them to boil eggs! Then it was back on the buses and to our next stop, just south of Chaing Rai, at the White Wat which was an amazing sight.

The White Wat: After lunch we headed to Chaing Khong on the banks of the (very flooded) Mekong where we stayed at a hotel with a great view over the river and to Laos on the other side which was to be our destination the next day.

View from our hotel: The border crossing from Thailand to Laos was an absolute pleasure! We caught a long boat across the river to the Laos side (our guide had already cleared us through Thai immigration as that was under water due to flooding!), and we were stamped through in no time at all. Then we headed to the dock where our slow boat was waiting for us. We felt slightly guilty as we clambered over four other boats packed with locals and tourists on hard wooden benches and arrived at our luxury boat complete with reclining seats, a dining table, a fridge and the all important karaoke machine! And so we spent two days cruising down the Mekong admiring the fantastic scenery of lush dense forested hills right to the water’s edge, the occasional hut or fisherman and the swirling flooded river. A trip like this is made by the random moments that happen along the way, and the most random of the Mekong journey was when our guide was asked to put on some music, at which point he put on the karaoke machine and the first song we enjoyed was “Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny, Yellow Polka Dot Bikini”. Needless to say, none of us sang along!

Boat on the Mekong:

We arrived in Luang Prabang and were joined by our new recruit, Chris, Elaine’s boyfriend. Luang Prabang is a lovely town with a very French influence and a dangerously good night market for handicrafts. We had three days to explore the town and to get Vietnam visas. While my exploration of the town was limited to two temples and a lot of restaurants (and a wine and cheese afternoon at the hotel – yep, doing it tough!), I did continue my “action woman” endeavours and headed out with Jo, Rich, Alexa, Cheryl, Michael S and Mike H for a day of kayaking and a visit to a waterfall for a swim. We had a fantastic day, although it did start a little slowly as the truck that was taking us to the start of the kayaking broke down – even I knew that the problem was a flat battery, but the driver studiously checked the oil before deciding that a roll start was probably in order. And, hey presto, we were off again. Our first stop was the waterfall which provided us with the opportunity to watch elephants washing off in the river (together with another tourist demonstrating to us why you don’t try to ride an elephant in a skirt), and then we had a swim in the waterfall.

Washing an elephant:

Playing in the waterfall:

Walking up from the waterfall:

Then the hard work began as we spent the next three hours kayaking (downstream, it must be said, but that isn’t the point! I had to paddle!) It was lovely to be able to appreciate the scenery, wave to locals and chat away. Towards the end of our paddling we approached a couple of rapids, including a whirlpool that brought Cheryl and myself unstuck! But we didn’t feel so bad as the guide had also managed to capsize in the same place!

Kayaking:

We returned from kayaking and got ready to go out for Chris’s official Odyssey Induction. After tying his new friend to him (a blue power ranger balloon), we had a lovely meal and a couple of drinks (and maybe a couple more) before heading to the bowling alley (which is the only place open after the 11.30 curfew) and discovering that I am pretty rubbish at bowling (a fact I think I knew, but had forgotten…) Sneaking back into the hotel was easier once we discovered that the gate wasn’t locked and therefore we didn’t have to scale the fence…

From Luang Prabang we headed to Vientiane by mini-bus. It was a full day’s drive along a very windy road with amazing scenery. After the rather disgusting sausages we had for lunch from a roadside stall, we were very happy to arrive into Vientiane to find a wide range of restaurants! Thanks to the 11pm curfew at our hotel, and the construction works next door, I was up early the next morning and Jo, Ann and I headed out to explore the town. We wanted a tuk-tuk to the Phra That Laung Wat, the most important site in Laos, however we were swiftly talked into taking a full day tuk-tuk tour of the town which was fantastic. Our first stop was the Buddha Park where we saw a huge reclining Buddha and may other Buddha sculptures (and required us at some stages to wade through ankle deep water – got to love touristing in the rainy season! Upside – fewer other people are doing it and you can do cool stuff like kayak down the rivers and play in waterfalls. Downside – you will get wet).

We then headed back into town via the Friendship Bridge which links Thailand and Laos across the Mekong. Then we were taken to the temple that we had first set out to see, and after a spot of lunch, managed to catch up with most of the rest of the group who were also there to see the famous temple. Our tuk-tuk then took us to the remaining sights on his tour – the Victory Gate (a huge concrete structure which they claim to resemble the Arc de Triomph), the Sisaket Museum (a temple which houses 10,136 Buddha statues) and then the Ho Phra Keo Museum (another temple which has historical artifacts, and some rather cool dragons guarding the staircase in). We then tried to go to the National Museum, but it was unfortunately closed, so we headed back to the hotel and after all that culture, felt perfectly justified in sitting in our air conditioned room to watch the Olympics!

"One night in Bangkok"

2008-08-12T10:55:00.006+01:00

And so, after another flight (OK, it is not very overlanding to fly, but it works for us!), we arrived into Bangkok. I had been to Bangkok before and remembered it being incredibly hectic and noisy and smelly and I was preparing myself as we touched down. Perhaps it is the contrast with truly mental countries like India, but I couldn’t believe how ordered and civilised it was – from the airport, immigration, the air conditioned coach into the city, the quiet (no car or truck horns the whole way! Amazing!), to the lovely hotel in the centre of the tourist area, with internet cafes on every corner and a cashpoint / ATM in the foyer. It was such a pleasant surprise! I have been assured that it is just because of where we are staying, but no matter what the cause, our stay in Thailand so far has been an absolute joy.

We arrived into Bangkok around lunchtime and headed straight to the hotel and to the restaurant opposite to grab a bite to eat. My first (of many) Thai curries. The next two days were spent in the rather smug knowledge that I had already seen the sights, therefore I could do things like go shopping. So on the first day I headed off with Maura and a couple of the other girls (and guys, it must be said) to a huge shopping mall in the centre of Bangkok. The cultural part of our trip was to take the boat down the river, past the temples, and then to catch the Skytrain (it is air-conditioned, London Underground take note!) directly to the shopping mall. Maura and I were transfixed by the shopping opportunities that presented themselves! There was every imaginable luxury brand (albeit the vast majority way outside our budget…) and a fantastic department store that gave us the opportunity to browse for many a contented hour! I ended up falling victim to a lovely dress, and even (much to the amusement / disappointment of the crew) a pair of heels! We had decided that as we were back in civilisation, it was time to get a little bit dressed up! After shopping we headed back to the hotel, dropped off our precious purchases, and went straight to the hairdresser for the first time in 4 months. It was great, and a little overdue it must be said… Our girly day of pampering was finished off by a quick drink on the way home, then a shower and meeting up in Maura’s room to get ready for the night out. We even put makeup on. We then met up with the others, and headed out for a lovely dinner by the river, a couple of drinks on the famous Khao San Road, and then a club somewhere deep in the depths of Bangkok (don’t ask me to try to find it again!).

The next day was understandably quiet…

From Bangkok we headed up to Chaing Mai on the overnight sleeper train. Our last experience on the train had been from Delhi to Agra, a very sweaty, noisy, hectic 3 hour ride each way, so we were a little nervous about the prospect of 13 hours in similar circumstances, but we shouldn’t have worried, and our fears were allayed as we climbed aboard our airconditioned carriages, saw our lovely padded seats, and worked out how they converted into beds, complete with white sheets and pillows. Very civilised! We arrived into Chaing Mai the following morning, and after a while spent at the hotel working out which of the many activities we were each going to do, a quick lunch and a bit of a snooze, it was time to head to my Thai cooking course with Cheryl, Edel and Elaine.

At the cooking course (no, I didn't know what colour the apron would be, it was just a lucky guess):

The cooking course was great. Our first stop was at a local market where the chef explained the different ingredients that we would be using, and then we headed to the “shed” at the back of his house which was set up as a full teaching kitchen, with each of us having our own gas ring and workspace. After watching him demonstrate what he wanted us to do, we headed off to our own areas and proceeded to cook 5 courses of delicious food. And we were all given a recipe book at the end of the night, so prepare to be dazzled!

Sitting down to our feast with Edel, Elaine, and Cheryl:

The next day I headed off with Cheryl, Jo, Shinnick and Mike H to The Ride of the Gibbon, an “exhilarating opportunity to soar through 1,500 year old rain forest, high above the forest floor”. Being the adventure queen that I now am, this appealed, and so we headed off. First step was to walk up to a waterfall which was lovely. After walking back down we were treated to some lovely food, and then it was “time to fly”. After being harnessed and helmeted up (I seem to have spent a disproportionate amount of the last couple of weeks wearing a harness and helmet), we were driven a bit further up the hill and then proceeded to spend the next 2 ½ hours zip-lining or abseiling down 2km of wires set up for the purpose. It was great fun (even if I never did quite work out the braking thing), and we all had a fantastic time. Not sure what the next adventure will be, but will be hard to top the ones that I have done recently

All harnessed and helmeted up... that bamboo thing in my hand is the brake... can you see how I had difficulty working it??:

Jo, flying through the air:

Preparing to abseil down (well, in fairness, be lowered down really):

Photo from rafting in Kathmandu... another example of the adventure woman I have become! (I think it may be a temporary state, don't panic):

"Flying without wings"

2008-08-11T18:33:00.006+01:00

Well, here is the video. I don't think that it fully conveys the terror, so have added a photo as well to give you an idea of how much I enjoyed it...

Yep, hated it...:

“Crazy” (Katie Melua)

2008-08-07T12:31:00.007+01:00

Nepal is a very beautiful country and we could all just sit here with a cold drink in hand and admire the scenery. However it is also the home of several unique and exciting ways to cause your adrenalin to flow and your heart to stop! Pokhara is a lovely town with a really chilled feeling, and the most amazing steak I have had for a long time! And wine! Very exciting! We had hoped to go paragliding, but unfortunately as it is the off-season, all the pilots have gone somewhere drier, so instead a group of us headed off for our first white water rafting of the trip. Well, brown water rafting is probably a more apt description, as it is the monsoon season and the rivers are somewhat full. All kitted up in our life jackets, helmets and with our paddles in hand, we boarded the raft and set off down the river. We quickly discovered that unfortunately the person at the front of the raft on the left side had no rhythm, so there was much clashing of paddles, but somehow we muddled our way along and managed to stay in the boat! We ended up about 30kms down the river, wet but happy (particularly once the monsoon rain stopped!). From Pokhara we headed to Kathmandu, a sprawling, busy, hectic, awesome city, full of temples and countless shops offering to embroider t-shirts or knock-off North Face fleeces. Leaving the truck at the workshop where it lives in Kathmandu, we headed into the tourist area, Thamel, in a fleet of tiny taxis. It was like an Asian version of The Italian Job as we wound through the tiny streets in convoy, running pedestrians and rickshaws off the road. Just as Crofty announced that the city seemed a bit dusty and “needed a bit of rain”, the heavens opened and we watched the windscreen wipers vainly trying to deal with all the water being thrown at them. We arrived at a local landmark, the Kathmandu Guest House (we were later to discover that this seems to be the only hotel in Thamel that taxi drivers actually know) and sheltered in the New Orleans Café, enjoying the food and roof! Eventually the rain abated and we were able to wind our way through the streets to our hotel. The next day I had grand plans for all the temples I was going to see on a walk through the streets, but Dr Pete had other ideas and carted me off to the travel clinic for a malaria test as I was suffering from flu-like symptoms which are the first sign. Fortunately it turns out that I really did have the flu (Influenza A incidentally), and I suffered through two nasal swabs in order to help research for next year’s northern hemisphere flu vaccine, so you can all thank me later (apparently researchers believe that Nepal provides an early warning system). I spent most of the rest of the day lying in bed taking paracetamol, but I managed to reappear for dinner and a cheeky bottle of wine… The next morning a group of us were up very early for a scenic flight to see Mt Everest. We joined Yeti Airlines flight 301 and headed off on a rather swish plane for about an hour as we flew to Everest and back. There was quite a bit of cloud cover all the way, and I was starting to worry whether I had got up for nothing, but we ascended through the cloud and all of a sudden, there it was. It was absolutely awesome. In a range of huge mountains, it was clearly identifiable and majestic, and quite breathtaking. Climbing it is madness, absolutely insane. Before seeing it I had respect for anyone who climbed it, but now I am caught between thinking that they need psychological help, and complete awe. Too quickly we headed back to Kathmandu, past other huge peaks, but they weren’t Everest! Finally feeling a bit better, I missioned off to see the Monkey Temple (well, the temple with monkeys on the way up to the temple, there didn’t seem to be any at the top), and had an unofficial (and uninvited) guide in the form of a 12 year old boy and his 4 year old brother, so happily wandered with us to show us around (including the monkey swimming pool – had to visit it as I had visions of monkey sized sunloungers, but alas, no). Finally they asked for biscuits, and although they had been good guides and quite entertaining (“I know all the capital cities in Europe, ask me one”), we were aware that others in the group had already donated many biscuits to the young guides at the monkey temple, so we headed off with his warnings of attack monkeys foremost in our minds. But we survived, and headed to Durbar Square where we fended off another guide (a slightly older version this time, and who in retrospect might have been quite useful as we wandered rather aimlessly around the buildings and made up stories about what they may have been used for). Monkeys:

Me at the Monkey Temple:

From Kathmandu, we headed north towards the Tibet border (Kodari), to The Last Resort, a luxury tented camp famed for its adventure activities. The “tents” provided beds, duvets and electric light, and were all under corrugated iron roofs, so were slightly different from what we had experienced in our camping days! The first afternoon was spent trying to work out which activities to do, and when, over the coming days, and then we had a buffet dinner and headed to my tent (which was huge) for a couple of drinks.

Despite the relative luxury of the tent I managed to sleep very little, as the drinks the night before had elicited from me an agreement to do the bridge swing and I had spent the night panicking about it! On waking up I made the decision not to do the jump, and instead became the group photographer while everyone except for myself, Elaine, Ann and Simon jumped off the bridge either doing the bridge swing, or bungy. It is very difficult to explain the sheer terror that crossed everyone’s faces as we watched Pete do the first bridge swing, which consists of jumping off a 160m high bridge over a gorge, attached to a rope about 140m long which is in turn attached to a set of cables about 50m from the bridge. On jumping off, the first 6 seconds are complete freefall, then finally the rope kicks in and you swing down the gorge, about 20m above the water, before finally hauling yourself to the edge of the river using another rope. Watching all my friends jump off was terrifying, and confirmed in my mind that I had made completely the right decision not to do it! A couple of the guys also did bungy jumps. Once they had all walked back up from the gorge, everyone concluded that it was an amazing experience and they were very glad they had done it… Sure they were…

Maura going for the big leap - bear in mind, that platform is 160m in the air:

While I had chickened out of the bridge swing, I did manage to keep my appointment for a massage in the afternoon. Even massage becomes an adventure sport in Nepal, as I was pummelled by yet another surprisingly strong woman. After a particularly vicious attack on my left arm which caused it to start hurting, I exclaimed, and the woman was very apologetic, and then spent the next couple of minutes massaging the same spot over and over again in order to ease the pain – so she was causing me more pain in an attempt to cure the pain that she had caused! Didn’t work! She did manage to sort out the knots in my back (I always thought they were stress related, but after 4 months of travelling, how stressed can I be?) and I hobbled out and up to the bar.

The next day I headed off with Edel, Mike, Shinnick and Jo to go canyoning. After getting dressed into some very attractive wet suits, helmets and abseiling harnesses, we headed up the hill for a short walk before starting our descent. The first waterfall that we came to, we slid down on our bottoms, landing with a splash in the pool of water below. For the next couple of hours we abseiled down a series of waterfalls to the bottom of the gorge. It was great fun, and lovely to be drenched in cool water to combat the heat! The walk back up the hill at the end was a bit of a mission though… Had a lazy afternoon sitting around in the Instant Karmabar, the common room for the resort, and then headed to dinner and off to bed early as it was going to be a big day the next day…

Do you remember back at school when your parents used to trot out the classic phrase of “would you jump off a bridge if all your friends did” as a plaintive cry against peer group pressure? Well, it turns out that peer group pressure is still very much alive and well, and, as it turns out, yes I would jump off a bridge if all my friends did. So I woke early the next day and headed to the bridge to face my fears along with Elaine, who had added further pressure to herself by already buying the t-shirt for the bridge swing with a promise to get “I was too chicken to do the [bridge swing]” embroidered on it if she didn’t go through with it. Elaine and I headed to the bridge (along with Rich and Shinnick who were insane enough to want to do yet another jump) and watched a group of about 15 Belgians jump off. Then it was our turn. Elaine went first. After some encouraging words from the Jump Master, Elaine jumped off. Mike T has said that her scream will haunt him for the rest of his life. Suffice it to say, Elaine didn’t enjoy the jump, but she does get to wear the t-shirt with pride! Then it was my turn. I had visions of bravely walking to the edge of the platform like it was nothing, however, harnessed up and attached to a rope with nothing between me and the bottom of the gorge 160m below, my courage failed me, and it took the Jump Master 3 turns of counting from 3 backwards to get me to jump. But I did jump. The feeling of free-falling will never leave me. It was absolutely horrific. I screamed “Nooooooo” the whole way down, and pedalled furiously with my legs in an extremely futile attempt to get back on the platform. The relief when the rope finally kicked in and I was swinging down the canyon was overwhelmed by the shaking and pounding heart that only comes from sheer terror! I hauled myself to the side of the gorge and somehow managed to stand up on my extremely shaky legs for long enough to get the harness off. Walking back up from the gorge with legs of jelly, we eventually arrived back up at camp and I went and bought a t-shirt which I shall be also wearing with pride. I am very glad that I did it, as there was no way I wanted to be the only one who didn’t, but I will never jump off another bridge. There is a video…

Me, smiling, before I jumped off the bridge... Elaine is looking a bit more pensive... She was right to be!:

As jumping off a bridge wasn’t enough adrenalin for one day, I headed off for my second whitewater rafting of the trip, along with Rich, Elaine, Mike T, Michael S and Alexa. A short minibus ride took us, and the other 20 rafters to the launch site, and we got kitted up and went through a very detailed safety briefing about what to do in the event that the raft capsizes. As the 6 of us had all been rafting only last week, we were keen for them to get going and stop going on about the safety stuff. We wanted to get on the water, and we were never in any danger of capsizing the previous time. Eventually we got onto the water. And quickly discovered why the safety briefing had been so extensive and why there were two safety kayaks in the water. It was absolutely amazing, huge rapids, the raft being tossed around, clinging on for dear life! So much fun, and so different from our previous rafting. After about 45 minutes of very hectic rapids, we stopped for lunch which involved a bit of eating, and in our cases, a lot of throwing each other into the river. Eventually we got everyone doing it! After lunch we cruised along for another couple of hours on pretty flat water. While there were no rapids to contend with, we had an absolutely fantastic time jumping in and out of the water, kidnapping people and shoes off other boats, swimming through the smaller rapids, and racing the other rafts. It was one of the best afternoon’s entertainment I have ever had. All of us came away with smiles plastered on our faces, and countless stories of our antics to bore the others with when we got back to Kathmandu!

Looking slightly deranged with Elaine in rafting helmets on the bus home from rafting... although the way people drive, maybe helmets are a good idea...:

But it wasn’t all fun and games that day as it was our farewell dinner for Crofty who has decided to head back to reality early and leaves us in Kathmandu to fly back to the UK. He was farewelled in true Odyssey fashion, with far too much food, cocktails and laughter, and a great time was had by all.

"Ain't no mountain high enough"

2008-08-02T06:15:00.003+01:00

More details coming once I get around to writing them, but in the meantime, here is a photo of Everest!

“Beautiful” (Carole King)

2008-07-29T10:59:00.005+01:00

Based on what I have seen thus far, Nepal could easily make a claim to be the most beautiful country in the world. The only thing the country seems to have in common with its neighbour India is the drivers. They are still nuts. But in every other regard it seems to be a world apart. Scenery just across the Nepal border:

We crossed the border from India to Nepal at a very small border post near Mahendranagar. After being told that the border didn’t open until 6pm (we arrived at 3pm, and then sat for 3 hours watching as literally hundreds of people walked through the border – the truck seemed to be the problem), it turned out that the problem was actually something to do with the weight of the truck and the height of the river that we needed to cross on the bridge (although this problem seemed to be less of an issue after the handing over of a bit of money…) So just after 6 we headed across the first of two bridges that led us to the Indian border control. They weren’t the most truck-friendly bridges ever, and we did manage to give some unsuspecting local dawdlers the fright of their life as they realised what was behind them, but finally we arrived and then spent over an hour being processed out of the country by three of the most unhelpful (and underemployed) border guards yet. We are still all a little mystified as to why it takes so long for them to agree to let you out of a country!

Crossing the bridge to get to Indian immigration and on to Nepal:

When we had eventually cleared the formalities we drove the 2kms to the Nepalese side of the border only to discover that the immigration office was closed. Disaster! As we looked around the no-mans land that we found ourselves in assessing whether we could camp on the front lawn of the immigration office, Pete went to talk to the border guard who was fortunately still there (although not on duty). After a brief discussion, Pete came back to the truck and said simply, “I love Nepal”. The border guard had told him that as the office was closed (and we have a sneaking suspicion that beer o’clock had come quite early for him), we could drive through the border and come back in the morning to be processed. Customs was a similarly relaxed process, and so we headed off to find a hotel in the town. We eventually settled on Hotel Opera and headed straight into the hotel restaurant. Several of the group were very excited by the Pizza Hut and KFC logos on the menu, however were then a little disappointed to discover that just meant they offered pizza and fried chicken! But the most exciting thing on the menu was definitely the alcoholic drinks which we had not seen on a menu for weeks! It would have been rude not to order some…

More amazing scenery, and some nice straight roads:

The next day we set off (after clearing immigration) to head towards Pokhara. We had briefly considered stopping at Bardia National Park to see if we could find a tiger this time, however when we found out that they only had 5 tigers in the whole park, it seemed a bit of a waste of time, so we ended up pushing all the way through to Butwal. It was a very interesting drive for a couple of reasons. The scenery was absolutely gorgeous – huge hills, brilliant green rice paddies, attractive houses, and none of the litter that was such a prominent feature in India. Everything just seemed so much cleaner and neater than in India. The roads were very clear, courtesy of the chronic shortage of diesel in the country that has put so many of the cars, trucks and buses off the road, and we were able to fly along (literally at one stage as there was a bump in the road that Pete didn’t see until we were airborne!) As we were heading through a village at one stage we were amazed to see the EOE truck (the one we had seen in Goreme) going in the opposite direction! They are heading to Mumbai to then fly to Bangkok and continue their journey in the same way as us, again victims of the closed Chinese border. The two overland trucks parked up on the main road, and Pete chatting to the EOE crew drew quite a crowd! We are very used to being stared at, although they did take it to a new level in India.

The EOE truck and the crowd watching Pete and the other crew chat:

The other interesting thing that happened on our drive was coming across a huge queue of traffic waiting to cross a river in which was stuck a truck with a broken front axle. The locals were attempting to pull it out using a digger dumper, but they didn’t have an appropriate rope. So in return for the use of our tow rope, we were able to barge our way to the front of the queue. While the girls sat on the truck getting stared at, the boys went to “help”, well Pete helped while the others looked on and Rich took photos! Eventually the truck was hauled out of the river and it was our turn to cross, which was slightly more exciting than we had envisaged particularly when we stalled, but Archie pulled through and we were again on our way. It was a very long day on the truck, and we had our first experience of driving at night in a country where headlights appear to be optional (and an unpopular option at that), and people, cows and water buffalo (generally considered to be the most stupid animal we come across) wander along the road, or sit in the middle of it, seemingly unconcerned that there may be oncoming traffic. Absolutely insane.

Crofty & me:

From Butwal we headed up into the hills to Tansen (or Palpa) – it was a very nice town with several temples and a lovely restaurant with impeccable service. At night, when we returned there for dinner, we witnessed our first Nepalese demonstration, which Pete believes was put on for our benefit as it is fair to say that the locals noticed our arrival (they also noticed our departure, but more on that later). Seeing a queue of 50 people waiting patiently for fuel for cooking, seeing all the electricity go out at 9pm, and driving past entire parking lots of trucks and buses with no diesel, you start to get a picture of why protests are becoming increasingly common. But despite it all, people are still smiling. It is quite humbling.

From Tansen we headed to Pokhara, again an absolutely stunning drive. Our departure from Tansen was slightly delayed by Archie who decided to supplement his usual flat battery with a faulty diesel pump. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed with a bit of hosepipe and a couple of jerry cans, and the usual crowd of 50 locals. One of the locals who was particularly fascinated by the truck (his thorough investigation of the truck included wiping some of the dirt off the side of the truck and smelling it) decided that by watching Pete’s every move for an hour and a half that he had helped sufficiently to get a reward, and his chosen reward was Pete’s watch. Pete disagreed.

Rich, Jo, Edel and myself were lucky enough to get up onto the roof seats for most of the journey, and provided you watch out for the occasional low branch (or power line), it is the best way to travel! We all took countless photos of the fantastic scenery which I will be able to bore you all with when I get back...

More amazing scenery:

Edel and me on the roof:

“Eye of the Tiger”

2008-07-29T10:52:00.002+01:00

After finally leaving Rishkesh (our departure was slightly delayed by a very flat battery, thanks Archie), we headed off on a full day’s driving to Corbett National Park. The crazy Indian roads continued (well, the roads are fine, it is just the drivers who are nuts) and we headed across the plains as quickly as possible (ie, not very quickly!) and eventually arrived into the town just outside the National Park where we found that the hotel we were to stay in was not going to honour the prices they had previously agreed. So we continued on in search of an alternative. After several unsuccessful attempts (including rejecting one hotel where there were two double beds in each room and mirrors on the walls and ceiling…) we arrived at Tiger Camp which proved to be a misnomer as it involved neither tigers nor camping! It was a beautiful hotel and the most luxurious we have stayed at on the trip thus far (and I think I can probably safely say, the best we will stay in the whole trip!) The monsoon does have its advantages, and huge discounts on hotel rooms is one of them! We enjoyed air-conditioning, huge beds, luxury bathrooms (with hot water!), and a fabulous buffet dinner. Not a tent in sight. Elaine, Simon, Maura & Crofty on safari (well, in the carpark waiting for the permits...):

The next morning we were up at silly o’clock to head into the park in jeeps in search of the elusive tiger (unfortunately the elephants get the monsoon season off, so we weren’t on an elephant-back safari). We drove around the park, the oldest national park in India, and our helpful guides in the front pointed out the wildlife as we drove along. It wasn’t a particularly taxing job for them as we managed to drive through the park which has about 15 species of deer alone not to mention over 130 tigers and herds of elephant, and all we discovered was that the peacock is very much not endangered as there were heaps of them! We saw the head of a monitor lizard poking out of a tree, a couple of hornbills flying past and a dove. Oh, and the highlight was seeing a tiger print (although suspiciously there was only one, so either there is a one-legged tiger around, or the more popular theory is that it was put there for our benefit!) As with all animal-based endeavours, it is the luck of the draw, but unsurprisingly our guide said the immortal words “I can’t believe we haven’t seen anything, that is very unusual. Until this trip I had a 100% strike rate of seeing a tiger in the park”. Good for him.

A tiger print:

"[Hit me] baby one more time" (Britney Spears)

2008-07-22T13:31:00.004+01:00

You know what they say. When in Rome... and when in Rishkesh, the home of yoga, one should yoga it up. So I did. Along with Edel, Jo and Rich we headed off for our session of Hatha Yoga at the ashram across the road (get me and my terminology). After starting with some gentle chanting we headed into some stretches and rotation of ankles, shoulders, neck etc. Our guide was keen that we "keep continue" all the exercises, and that we inhale and exhale at such a speed that I though hyperventilation was not out of the question. After some exercises which were apparently good for "lady problems" (unfortunately he never expanded on just what those might be) and several of the required sun salutations (where the inhale / exhale slowed down to such an extent that we were about to pass out - never happy, me!) we were led through a breathing exercise which was akin to blowing your nose repeatedly, without a tissue, which is not such a great idea when half of us have a cold. A few more stretches and then we got to the meditation bit where we were encouraged to feel our "otherness", but were told that falling asleep was not required. Which was a shame, as that was exactly what I wanted to do! After and hour and a half or so (for the massive cost of 100 rupees, or about 1.25 pounds), we were released from the spiritual oasis of the ashram, and back into the heat and humidity. Not content with just doing yoga, I decided to enjoy a massage in the afternoon. After being introduced to my masseuse, a rather diminutive looking Indian lady, she commenced. Suffice it to say that looks can be deceiving, and her appearance did not give any indication of her strength, and at several stages during the process I did question whether I was enjoying it! Examples include the time when she attempted to dislocate my knees and then gave them a reassuring slap when they stayed in place, and the use of my hair as a weapon against me by attempting to rip it out handfuls at a time, while massaging oil through that will probably stay with me for months! And the whole process involved a lot of slapping, even when she was massaging my face... But somehow the end result was both amusing and vaguely relaxing (perhaps most relaxing when it stopped!). I emerged somewhat stunned from the booth and found that Crofty and Rich had also just had massages that were best described by them as "comprehensive". The mind boggles.

“Pretty Woman” (Roy Orbison)

2008-07-21T11:35:00.003+01:00

OK, well the title of this blog is a little obscure, but it was the best I could come up with… My thought process is as follows – Pretty Woman, the movie, starred Richard Gere. Richard Gere is one of the highest profile supporters of the Free Tibet campaign. Although we are in India, it is actually like being in Tibet, as we are in Dharamsala (well, actually, more specifically McLeod Ganj, about 10km up a very un-truck-friendly road from Dharmasala), which is the home of the exiled 14th Dalai Lama, and home to thousands of Tibetans. And so, while we are in India, it really feels like we have come to a different country. There are red and yellow robed Tibetan monks wandering the streets (usually talking on mobile phones, it must be said), “Free Tibet” signs everywhere, and Tibetan food on the menu (yet to be sampled). The weather is a much more pleasant temperature (ever so slightly hot and humid in Delhi and Agra – in the monsoon season, who would have thought?), and we have three whole days to explore the town, see the sights and maybe even get a massage and a hair cut (although not monk style thanks). Unfortunately the Dalai Lama himself is off in America or somewhere, otherwise I am sure he would have been delighted to meet us… While in India we have been admiring some of the signs along the road. Favourites so far include: “Eat mushrooms, keep your country strong” “Don’t feed the monkeys, it may cause mishap” “Thanks ICA [Institute of Computer Accountants]. Now I can marry off my sister” After returning from Dharamsala we headed for Chandigarh (and our favourite Wild West pub, complete with cowboy hats and curry), and then on to Rishkesh, the home of yoga, for a bit of spiritual enlightenment (although strictly of the alcohol-free type of spirits, as it is a very dry town!). Fortunately we arrived at the same time as over a million pilgrims dressed in orange who have been parading through the streets all day. An absolutely amazing sight, watching thousands of people journeying through the town, and throwing offerings into the somewhat swollen Ganges. Unfortunately our whitewater rafting will have to wait for Nepal, which is where we are off to next, via a nature reserve where we will be going on an safari on the back of elephants in the hope of seeing a tiger!

“Leaving on a jet plane”

2008-07-21T11:30:00.002+01:00

It was with sadness that we farewelled Tim and Cheryl (and Penelope) and wished them well on their drive back to the UK (we will see them again in Bangkok in a month’s time), and it was with an equal measure of excitement that we headed off early from Bishkek in minibuses for the drive to Almaty airport. It was only about half an hour to the Kazakhstan border, and an easy border crossing orchestrated by our glorious (if temporary) leader Mike T. We then continued on for a couple of hours, stopping briefly at a roadside shop for some food, and a strange discussion with a Kazakh man – “Where are you going?” “India” we replied. “No, you don’t want to go there, you want to go to Moscow and see the Metro system, it is even better than the London Underground”. “Thanks for the advice, think we will take our chances with India anyway”, him “You don’t know how to have a holiday”. We arrived at Almaty airport several hours early for the flight, and found that we couldn’t check in until 2 hours before the flight, so we set up camp in the chairs and played UNO and other card games and ate microwaved bits of deep fried goodness from the only shop selling food that was open. Not much to do in Almaty airport…

Farewelling the truck:

Finally we were able to check in, and we all breathed sighs of relief as our luggage came in under the 20kg and no excess fees were levied. We do have some doubts about the scales, but certainly didn’t argue! Then it was through for a bit of quick duty free shopping, and then onto the plane for the 4 hour flight to Delhi. The flight was very bouncy at the beginning, but eventually settled down and we enjoyed the best hospitality that Air Astana had to offer. Fortunately we didn’t end up in any difficulties during the flight as the person doing the safety briefing in English had decided it was all too hard and given up half way, leaving the air hostesses in the aisle somewhat bemused as to what they should do with their lifejackets! Speaking of half-way, the night we flew to Delhi was officially the half-way point of the trip – Day 88!

We arrived into Delhi, negotiated for taxis and exited the airport – into a wall of heat, humidity, noise and people. Our taxi ride was exciting to say the least, as it was the first time many of us had experienced Indian driving. Road rules are ignored (well, I am assuming that they exist in the first place, which might be an incorrect assumption!), traffic comes at you from all directions and the noise – well, in a country where looking in your mirror is considered to be a step backwards, the only way to let someone know that you are there is by using your horn. And use them they do. Constantly. The noise is incredible and never-ending. Where the English flash their lights to gently suggest that someone should move out of their lane, the Indians sit on their horn until the car / truck / bus / rickshaw / horse-drawn cart / pedestrian moves. Amazingly everything seems to work. Apparently what we have been doing wrong in the UK and Australia is actually looking for oncoming cars when you enter a roundabout. Instead what we should do is just drive into the roundabout and wait for other people to miss us! Don’t suggest you try it though…

We eventually found our hotel and gratefully checked in and enjoyed the fiercest airconditioning we have had to date. The next morning I was up early to go to the markets with Ann to buy the traditional Indian outfit, guaranteed (according to the Lonely Planet) to both be cool and practical to wear, and to fend off the unwanted advances of men. After ascertaining that the market only opened at 10.30, we went outside to get an auto-rickshaw (tuk tuk) to the Red Fort. Ah, the driver said, the Red Fort is closed this morning, it only opens later. But I can take you on a tour of the sights around here, there are temples and interesting things to see. Throwing caution to the wind, Ann and I agreed a price (well, we agreed to his price, haggling is not my thing) and we set off on a 1 ½ hour tour of the surrounding area. The first sight we saw was a money changing shop, swiftly followed by a Hindu statue on a roundabout (the view, which he encouraged us to take a photo of, was only partially obscured by the raised motorway and train line in front of it). Our third, and most interesting sight on the “tour” was a shop. At first Ann and I were sceptical, but then we realised that actually this sorted out our shopping problems by providing a chess set for Ann (for her son), and a salwar kameez for both of us (well, mine for Mum – hope you like it and you get it in time!!). So we spent quite a bit of time in the shop being charmed by the salesmen and making our purchases. On the way back to the hotel the “tour guide” started the serious business of trying to set up dinner for him and me – “Are you vegetarian?” “no” I replied. “Ah, non-vegetarian” was his response in a tone that was either awe or slight fear, it was difficult to tell. After assuring him that my boyfriend was big, strong, waiting for me at the hotel, and wouldn’t appreciate me trading email addresses with my new friend, he deposited us at the hotel, without any plans for dinner.

The rest of the day in Delhi was spent exploring the sights of the Red Fort, and the post office – quite an adventure, Mum, you owe me about 2 hours! (but we did get to meet the Chief Postmaster, and a nice man sewed our parcels up in muslin for us). Had my third curry of the day for dinner, and then off to bed for an early start the next day. Taxis at 5.30! That is almost inhumane!

The next day we headed off on the train to Agra. Where the roads are busy and noisy and chaotic, well, it is fair to say that the trains are somewhat similar! After shooing people off our pre-booked seats, we settled in for the 3 hour journey. The trains are a lot like the roads – noisy, crowded and hectic – but we arrived into Agra with no dramas, and headed off to Hotel Sheela (cue countless jokes about an Aussie girl booking a hotel called Sheela, and Jo being subjected to a photo in front of the sign). After an afternoon snooze (still a luxury even after 3 months of travelling!), then up in the afternoon to watch the sunset over the Taj Mahal. Our hotel was incredibly close to the Taj Mahal (“the Taj” to its friends), so it was no hassle to walk back from the river once we discovered that the man at the hotel who had so reliably informed us that the sun set at 6.30, was in fact out by about an hour and a half! Our first glimpse of the Taj excited us, and so we made plans to be up early in the morning.

Another 5.30 start, and we were queuing by 5.45 to get tickets, a bottle of water and some shoe covers, and then we were in. We were amongst the first in, and as we entered the gardens in front of the Taj Mahal itself, it was literally breathtaking. A greater gesture of romance and love there has never been. It is an absolutely fantastic sight, and we were able to spend a couple of hours wandering around, taking countless photos, and admiring its incredible scale and beauty.

After the Taj Mahal we headed back to the hotel for breakfast (more lemon and sugar pancakes for me! Not as good as yours though Mum), and then off to see Agra’s other sights. Our first stop was the Agra Fort (a very nice fort, and made slightly more exciting by watching an iguana fight a chipmunk – the iguana won, by the way, although the chipmunk did start it), and then on to the Baby Taj. The Baby Taj (yes, that is its actual name, although I don’t think that they called it that when they were building it) was amazing – a much smaller, and more ornate version of the Taj Mahal. Very beautiful, and well worth the tuk tuk ride to see it. Then it was back to the hotel, off to the station, and onto the train for the return journey to Delhi. Upon arriving in Delhi we were greeted by the very welcome sight of Pete at the wheel of Archie, our new truck. He’s no Penelope, but we love him nonetheless. And Indian traffic is a lot less frightening when you are surrounded by 9 tonnes of steel.

Archie:

Some photos for you

2008-07-18T07:46:00.002+01:00

Some photos for you - will upload the text as soon as I sort out some slight techincal difficulties! Guess where we are?? Jo, Mike T, Edel, Shinnick and myself: Rich, me and Ann at the Red Fort, Delhi: With Ann in a rickshaw heading to the post office... With Elaine in the temple in Dharamsala, the home of the exiled 14th Dalai Lama:

“Say Hello, Wave Goodbye” (David Gray)

2008-07-02T09:26:00.003+01:00

From the Jeti-Oghus bushcamp we were headed for Kochkor which was to be the jumping off spot for four of our group who had decided to try their luck at getting through China on their own. So we had a final group meal together, and then bade them farewell and best wishes the next morning as they headed off in a taxi and we headed off on Penelope towards Bishkek and Pete who was still there trying to sort out visas which was (and is) continuing to be quite a challenging process! We decided to give Pete a laugh by turning up in our fancy dress costumes, so about half an hour out of Bishkek we changed into them, including Tim who was therefore forced to drive in a light pink two piece mother-of-the-bride outfit, although we did allow him to only wear the hat once we had arrived in Bishkek.

The crew - Cheryl, Pete and Tim:

And so here we are in Bishkek, hostages to the vagaries of the Indian and Kazakh embassies, with fingers and toes crossed, and flights to Delhi booked for the 9th of July!

“The Wild Rover” (traditional)

2008-07-02T09:25:00.003+01:00

Sending Pete back to Bishkek and thence to Kathmandu and India to deal with embassies, visas and the new truck for us, we headed to Karakol after a brief interlude to sort out an airlock in the diesel (Pete’s farewell present to Tim and Cheryl I think…) We were staying in a homestay in Karakol, and made the very interesting discovery that women over the age of 45 don’t have to do anything in Kyrgyzstan as their daughter-in-law has to do the cooking, cleaning, washing etc (sorry Katie, and don’t get any ideas Mum!) – as a result our guide had to come up to our homestay to prepare the breakfast for us! Our night in Karakol saw us go to a restaurant with a very extensive, and very European menu. After a feast of greasy beef stroganoff and rice, washed down with the ever present vodka. A friendly German fellow then offered us the sage advice that drinking cheap vodka would send you blind, and so bought us a shot of better quality vodka as a gesture of goodwill (or perhaps a cure?), and then joined us for a discussion of the merits of Russian vs Kyrgyz vodka. We headed back to the homestay to try to further test his theory (happily the blindness does not seem to be instant). The next morning saw us head to the market in Karakol to buy our fancy dress outfits. Previously we had been assigned a name in secret for whom we had to buy an outfit. And thus we were unleashed on unsuspecting vendors, wondering why males were holding dresses up against themselves for sizes, and why we were giggling uncontrollably at the outfits that are quite seriously worn in Kyrgyzstan. After the market we headed to Jeti-Oghuz (7 Bulls), a beautiful area where we found a lovely campsite by a fast flowing river and set up camp. We had lamb curry for dinner which was delicious, and then presented Simon with his somewhat overdue birthday present of a piñata which a couple of us had made. He was then blindfolded and instructed to have 10 hits, however it was so funny watching him trying to beat merry hell out of the piñata (and most of the members of the group unless properly aimed) that we let him continue until he had finally beaten it into submission and it had yielded its sweets! He is nothing if not a good sport! After dinner we sat around the campfire and then decided to have some tunes, so enjoyed a bit of disco fever and “glove” songs. Elaine and I eventually headed off to our tent around 1.30am only to find that the storm that had come through had turned our tent, Tarquin, into a lake, and so we headed off to the truck and slept there! The next day it was the big day – the fancy dress party. The preparations started early with punch being prepared from 4pm, the kitchen tent being turned into a disco through the use of strobing head torches and a papier mache disco ball and the handing out of the outfits. Then we all disappeared into our tents and re-emerged as visions of loveliness! My own outfit was named “Kyrgyzstani Domestic Goddess” and involved a rather fetching red pyjama set, a lovely pink and black silk headscarf, and a set of red rubber gloves. Oh, and some blue slippers with dogs on them. Mmmm, sexy! Dinner was a feast of meat and ribs, and then there was dancing and much punch drinking (or perhaps that was in the other order?), the requisite storm, and then a visit from some of the people from the Dragoman truck which was parked up next to us (fortunately they had been pre-warned that it was fancy dress and did not think that it was our normal attire). Me (the Kyrgyzstani Domestic Goddess) and Maura (Miss Odyssey 2008): Jen & Tim: C & Rich: Mike H & Elaine: Once the rain had abated and we were able to sit around the campfire (which had miraculously survived the storm), and we had a bit of a sing-along, including a very hearty duelling version of The Wild Rover, our favourite campfire song. Much more chatting, and eventually off to bed in a mercifully dry Tarquin!A perfect next-day breakfast of fried potatoes with the closest approximation to bacon that we have seen for a while, eggs and baked beans ran until well after 11, and then lunch followed fairly swiftly afterwards with some amazing soup which Cheryl had made from scratch (including the stock), and then it was time for the Odyssey Olympics, organised by Edel and Shinnick. Divided into teams, we embarked upon three-legged races (have to admit they seemed easier at school), and egg and spoon races, welly throwing, hit the hurly, a pillow fight (using some of the inflatable rings that were part of costumes the night before, including the duck and the giraffe), and tug-o-war. No official verdict was recorded, but I am pretty sure that my team, “The Cool Bananas” triumphed over “The Mystery Meat Lovers”. All that activity made for some pretty big appetites (despite all the amazing food all day), and we all gratefully devoured the spaghetti Bolognese and garlic bread!

“Locked out” (Crowded House)

2008-07-02T09:24:00.000+01:00

From Lake Song Kol we headed to Bishkek. However we did have to put some effort into leaving the lake as we had managed to run the batteries down and the truck wouldn’t start! With an almighty push by the whole group we were able to push the 12 tonne truck backwards down a slight incline, just enough to enable Pete to start it, and we were off. Another feature of the scenery which we have become accustomed to seeing is yerts. These sturdy looking structures are able to be put up in 25 minutes by the locals and must be the inspiration for Ikea as they are entirely flatpack and easily transportable. As we journeyed on from Lake Song Kol we continued to see countless yerts and horses, together with more amazing mountain scenery. We arrived in Bishkek and were staying at a hostel. Unfortunately the hostel had a 12 midnight curfew that was not well advertised, so we didn’t make too many friends that night, among either staff or other residents (of which there were plenty!) Oops. Our reason for coming to Bishkek was largely to go to the Pakistan embassy to apply for visas. However we received the very disappointing news (well, disappointing at the time, perhaps fortunate given recent developments) that it would take a month to get our Pakistan visas, and therefore another alternative route would have to be found. After offering messages of support to the crew on loo roll, we left them to it and headed off to enjoy the facilities of a town including a huge supermarket selling all manner of toiletries and foodstuffs, a cashpoint that issued US dollars, and an internet café. By 6pm there was a new plan and, suitably reassured, we headed off to celebrate Simon’s birthday with a Chinese meal (we had all been avoiding eating Chinese in preparation for overload in China, but now it is on for young and old!) We had a great meal with the most superb egg fried rice ever! The following morning was spent booking flights for the revised route (more detail later), and shopping for the coming days, and then we were off to Lake Issyk-Kol where we camped right on the shores of the lake in the shadows of massive snow capped mountains. The new route now sees us heading from Kyrgyzstan into Kazakhstan and then flying from Almaty, the capital of Kazakhstan into Delhi. From Delhi we pick up another truck and drive across to Calcutta, spending quite a bit of time in Nepal. From Calcutta, we fly to Bangkok and recommence our original itinerary through south-east asia, seeing Laos, Cambodia, Thailand, Vietnam, Malaysia and Singapore. We are still waiting on visas (and are expecting to have a rather interesting morning of hair pulling, punching and pinching in two days time when we try to pick up our Kazakh visas) and the visas will determine the exact timing, but everything seems to be falling into place (although falling is perhaps the wrong word as it is certainly taking every effort of the crew to sort it all out and try to stay sane!)

“Take the weather with you” (Crowded House)

2008-07-02T09:23:00.005+01:00

The border crossing into Kyrgyzstan was fairly uneventful, other than the fact that we discovered that if you are a bit tipsy and want to get into Uzbekistan, just walk around the portacabin that serves as the immigration control and keep walking – no need for formalities! We farewelled Jalol who had so ably shown us around Uzbekistan, and welcomed our new guide Assele (“you can call me Miss Honey”) and headed to our first stop of Osh. We were staying in homestays in Osh, and I was in an old Russian style apartment that had mercifully been renovated inside… Throughout our stay in Uzbekistan we had not seen a single menu for the local food, as all menus were in Uzbek. What this also meant is that our guide chose to give us a subset of the menu at any restaurant we went to, and so our choices were limited to a few (sometimes while he ordered something that he had not told us about!) We were hopeful that our stay in Kyrgyzstan would yield some different culinary delights, however at the first dinner Assele excitedly explained (although she does most things excitedly) that there were many local dishes on offer, and proceeded to rattle off the same list of dishes as in Uzbekistan! So I ordered shashlik and fries, with tomato and cucumber salad of course, and it was delicious, if a little similar to that which we had eaten for the last couple of weeks! From Osh we proceeded to a very holy mountain which we were given the option to climb. However with the prospect of 5 nights of bush camping stretching ahead of me (with the associated thoughts of no showers, no washing and the fact that all the lakes and rivers we were staying near were either glacial or froze over in winter, thus severely limiting my chances of getting in the water), I decided to decline and instead watched as the others returned a little sweaty! From the mountain we headed to the local market and did a massive food shop in order to cater for the upcoming days. The market was huge and provided the opportunity to purchase delicacies such as pineapples (unfortunately we didn’t due to the cost being approximately equivalent to that of a small house in Kyrgyzstan, give or take a few som), as well as our staples of tomatoes, cucumbers (do you see a theme? Don’t expect me to serve them any time soon after the trip! And as for dill, I wouldn’t have served that before the trip!), aubergines, carrots, cabbages, watermelon, apricots and tiny apples. We also went to the meat part of the market, where the meat hangs from hooks above the counter, and the cows’ heads and hooves lie on the ground. The vege market:

Pete shopping for meat:

The countryside coming out of Osh was arid and dry, however as we descended into valleys we found incredible pockets of lushness, seeming oases in the desert. As we continued on, the mountains became higher and redder in colour, and we started to see beautiful blue green glacial lakes (complete with massive dams!). We eventually turned off the mountain road and descended to a bush camp site by a river. It was a BBQ for dinner, and unsurprisingly as soon as the meat was put on to cook, the rain started to fall, despite Tim’s confident assertion that it wouldn’t rain and that fly sheets were optional! Fortunately it was only light rain, and it let up in time to allow us to eat al fresco (is there any other way?). I learnt an important lesson this night, and that was that to leave your camera behind when you go to bed can result in some very interesting photos being taken on it before it is returned to you the next day!

Scenery along the road:

Me at a glacial lake:

The amazing scenery continued as we headed towards our second bush camp which was by a fast flowing river overlooked by an amazing red cliff. The sky had become increasingly ominous as we headed towards camp (“is that a rain cloud I see? Well we must be near camp then”), and it was just as Pete had completed his “right folks, we are camping here, Tim and I will just go and check it out” and placed his hand on the door handle that the heavens opened and we were caught in a torrential downpour! The timing of it caused mass hilarity, and we sat in the comfort and dryness of the truck while they made sure we weren’t going to get bogged. Miraculously it passed by the time it was time for us to put up tents and the night turned into a beautifully clear one, with the sky becoming a carpet of thousands of stars, and the moon giving the red cliff all night.

The red cliff:

“Wild Horses” (Daryl Braithwaite)

2008-07-02T09:23:00.004+01:00

From the red cliff campsite we headed for Lake Song Kol. We needed to cross a mountain pass before reaching the lake, and we stopped for lunch at the top of the pass. And were rewarded with a hail / sleet storm! Our luck with the weather continues to be somewhat dubious… However it looked sunny by the lake and so we soldiered on, and found a lovely campsite about a kilometre from the lake, on ground only otherwise occupied by horses, cattle and the occasional goat (but more about the goats later). Our days at Lake Song Kol were taken up with wandering around the lake and the mountains (well, I guess it has to be said that I more took on the foothills, leaving the mountains to the fitter members of the group!), riding horses and chilling out. As the old adage says, you learn something new every day, and on the second day of our stay I learnt that I am allergic to horses. The horses we hired were somewhat lethargic at times (although some of that can definitely be attributed to user error), and so I loped off on a horse and within seconds I was sneezing. And sneezing, and sneezing. And my horse was flatulating, a lot, which was very unfortunate for Rich whose horse would only follow mine, and only at very close proximity. I continued on (did I mention it was also tipping with rain), and eventually had to turn around because the sneezing was driving me mad. On the return journey (and I am only talking about less than a kilometre because that is as far as I went), my eyes started to itch, and by the time I returned to camp, Jo exclaimed “oh my God, what happened to you?”. I went onto the truck to get some dry clothes and was met with supportive comments such as “eeew, I can’t even look at your eye!”, and laughter from all sides. Fortunately there are no mirrors on the truck so I have no idea what a state I was in, but I considered the best course of action would be to slope off, anti-histamines in hand, and go for a sleep in the hope that I would be able to open my left eye by the time I woke up! My allergy to horses continues to provide entertainment to some of our group, including a member of the crew who offered me a “present” of some horse hair! Hilarious! Horses are a very prominent feature of the scenery in Kyrgyzstan, with beautiful looking horses (and at this time of year, foals) everywhere. The locals we saw on horseback were all excellent riders, and we received a further demonstration of this through a game of goat polo which was organised for us by the crew. (Annie, stop reading now…) The game starts with the slaughtering of a goat whose head is removed, together with legs below the knee joints. There are then a series of games played either one on one or two on two which consist of trying to pick up the goat carcass from the ground and then carry it to a blanket in the middle of the field in order to score a point. And it is all done on horseback. The skill involved is significant (as demonstrated when Pete and Tim played a game against each other – perhaps a bit more practice is required?), and there is also some skill in being a spectator. There is no set field for the games, so it can be the case that you are standing there taking photos when you suddenly realise that there are four horses and a goat carcass galloping towards you with no intention of stopping. The game ranged all over, with some tussles being conducted right in front of tents, and others leaving the spectators in cars terrified as horses are leaning against the car. The game drew quite a crowd (still not entirely sure from where, but nevermind!) and was supplemented by demonstrations of child wrestling and adult arm wrestling. A winning player was chosen to take home the (by now very much tenderised) goat carcass and the players were overjoyed to receive a photo memento of the day. Picking up the "ball":

The perils of being a spectator:

The goat and the players:

That night we were caught in between two storm fronts, so we sought refuge in the truck and watched the lightning all around us (enjoying the comfort of 3 inches of rubber in the form of the tyres), and hoped that the tents would still be standing by the end of it!

“Fast car driving”

2008-07-02T09:21:00.002+01:00

From Samarkand we headed to Tashkent, the capital of Uzbekistan. We arrived at the hotel in the late afternoon and happily discovered that it had a pool in which to cool off. The weather has been pretty hot (I guess it is summer) and pools are quite a luxury! We decided to treat ourselves with a cocktail at the Chelsea Arms, an English pub owned by Roman Abramovich, the owner of Chelsea Football Club. Unfortunately it had gone downhill from last year, so we moved on to a lovely restaurant and sat in a courtyard drinking vodka and eating steak! Happy days! From there it was off to experience the cultural delights that Tashkent has to offer – the less said about that the better!

It was a very slow day the next day with some very late arrivals back home. We finally enjoyed some internet access, and our first normal sandwich for months! Imagine a club sandwich on white sliced bread! Heaven! Very few of us ventured outside of the hotel (have to say, I can’t really admit to having fully explored Tashkent…), and it was a pretty early night for everyone! The next day we headed off on a bit of an adventure. Pete and Tim had left early in the morning to drive Penelope to Fergana (in Uzbekistan) via Tajikistan as due to some political tensions, it was not possible to drive the truck over the mountain pass which connects Tashkent and Fergana as it has the capacity to carry too many people. So for the rest of us, it was into taxis (all Daewoos, Uzbekistan’s favourite car) for a 4 hour drive over the mountain pass. We were in quite a convoy with 5 cars all up, and it later transpired that the first car in the convoy contained Cheryl who was desperately trying to keep the driver from speeding. It worked for a large part of the journey, but then our driver for some reason decided that he had had enough, and he took off like a man possessed, tooting his horn at the other taxis to get them to move over. As we travelled along, our eyes nervously moved to the speedo, which peaked at 160km an hour. However the speeding was not all in vain, as we eventually stopped by the side of the road for the driver to buy apricots. Phew, and we thought he was driving like a maniac for no reason. He had been thoughtful enough to point out nice viewpoints along the way, and the scenery was amazing – massive mountains, including some snow-capped ones (hard to believe when you are sweltering in the back of the car I can promise you!). He was also kind enough to point out the tunnels that you couldn’t take photos of without risking arrest – Uzbekistan is a police state after all.

Our arrival in Fergana saw us check in to the rather luxurious Hotel Asia which was mercifully well air-conditioned and en-suited! I watched my first TV of the trip (“Equestrian World” – you can see how excited I was to find something in English) and then went down to the pool for a couple of drinks. We went down to find that the pool area had been overtaken by seemingly hundreds of 17 & 18 year old Russian kids. It was absolutely hilarious to watch the gesturing and posturing from the males and the posing and pouting from the girls. It was all in aid of the 10 year anniversary of an internet search engine apparently, but to us it was an opportunity to try to get some free food, and even a free drink. We were only marginally successful, and so headed off to dinner where I had a salad called “tenderness” (still no idea why the addition of mayonnaise to the ever-present tomato and cucumber suddenly renders a salad worthy of such a lofty and incongruous title!). We returned to the hotel to find that Pete and Tim had successfully made their 4 border crossings for the day (better them than us I say!) and made two important discoveries courtesy of Crofty (and vodka). Firstly we discovered that Uzbek money does not disintegrate on contact with water when its owner is rather unceremoniously pushed into the pool (but it does require some drying the next morning). And secondly we discovered that random dancing is a universal language, thanks to Crofty’s ever-willingness to engage with the locals…

From Fergana we headed towards the Kyrgyzstan border, but not before a stop at a famous silk factory where we were taken on a very informative and interesting tour by a man with the most unbelievable eyebrows ever seen (they were like reverse sideburns, slowly creeping down from his eyes to his cheeks). Edel had the somewhat dubious honour of being taken under her wing by one of the ladies in the first phase of silk production who decided to make Edel look more Uzbek by drawing in the traditional heavy eyebrows (stopping just short of the monobrow). While Edel managed to carry off the look, suffice it to say that there was much reaching for tweezers that night!

Edel with her new eyebrows (and check out the gold teeth in the background - a definite feature of the Stans):

“Changes” (David Bowie)

2008-06-14T10:34:00.001+01:00

While in Bukhara we had a truck meeting to discuss some forced route changes. Unfortunately the Chinese have decided in their infinite wisdom to close their borders to all overland trucks until at least September. As we were due to spend the better part of 6 weeks there, this throws a little spanner in the works! But our fearless leaders have made a plan, and we are off to Pakistan, India and Nepal before heading to Bangkok and rejoining our original itinerary through south east Asia. Quite a change! After hurriedly getting out the atlas and the Pakistan guidebook, the excitement about the new route is growing daily as it gets closer and closer. We are now in Tashkent, the capital of Uzbekistan and our second to last stop in Uzbekistan, then we are heading to Kyrgystan before launching off into the unknown!

“Rescue Me” (Aretha Franklin)

2008-06-14T10:33:00.009+01:00

From Bukhara we headed into the desert for two nights bush camping in the desert by Lake Aydar. We arrived at the lake in the late afternoon, and after checking out one site near the water the crew decided to push on a little further round the lake to find a better spot. We drove on for a while, however it was more like the campsite chose us as our rear tyre suddenly sank into the mud! After a little understandable cursing and exclaiming, the crew started the long and arduous task of digging the truck out, while the rest of us started to set up camp or headed into the water to cool off. We were camped in the middle of what seemed at the time to be nowhere, however our guide Jalol wandered off over the hill and returned triumphantly with an old truck (I don’t know where we find these guides who can just magic up a truck in the desert, but that was our second!). There was a collective intake of breath as the truck pulled on Penelope, and much cheering (and sighs of relief) when she was rescued and headed off to more solid ground!

We spent the whole of the next day just chilling by the lake. We got the boats and bikes out, and set up some shade with the kitchen tent (there does seem to be a dearth of trees in the desert – who would have thought?), and spent the day in and out of the water. Tim kite surfing:

At night we had a celebration for Terry & Lesley’s 31st wedding anniversary which was a couple of days prior. We had a feast of bbq steak, coleslaw, potato salad and, most importantly, fruit punch! After dinner Sam, Mike T and Edel treated us to some songs around the campfire (including the very touching “Every bladder hurts” to the tune of “Everybody hurts” by REM.

From the desert we headed to the relatively tropical city of Samarkand, one of the most important Silk Road cities, and the birthplace of the current president, and one of the icons of Uzbekistan history, Temurlane (Temur the Lame). It is my favourite of the cities we have visited in Uzbekistan, and it is filled with the most beautiful mosques and madrassas, fewer shops than Bukhara, and has a lovely feel to it. We did an epic city tour which covered the Registan Square, said to be the single most impressive sight in Central Asia, and the Necropolis, a collection of mausoleums which is absolutely amazing. We wandered through the market and managed to buy some apricots and sugared peanuts (with significant assistance from Jalol to avoid tourist price!) and in the afternoon headed to Temurlane’s mausoleum, one of the most important sites in Uzbekistan. It was an incredible feast of blue and gold on the inside, with intricate delicate designs covering the walls and ceiling.

Crofty & C at Registan Square:

Me in Samarkand: Inside Temurlane's Mausoleum:

The food in Uzbekistan has been a feature – we have sampled many of the local dishes including Shurpa (a beef broth with a piece of beef, a piece of carrot and a piece of potato in it – excellent for those of us (basically all of us) who have had dodgy stomachs during Uzbekistan), Shashlik (meat on a skewer), fried noodles (a bit like nasi goreng with noodles rather than rice), Lagman (a delicious noodle soup with diced vegetables), Manti (noodle dumplings filled with minced beef) and cabbage and peppers filled with minced beef. Meals are also served with salads, the traditional tomato and cucumber salad, a yoghurt and cucumber dip, a glass noodle salad and sometimes a mushroom salad. Oh, and of course Pizza Stella (pizza with ham, chicken, pineapple and mushrooms – not Uzbekistani, but delicious nonetheless!).

“Ladies Night” (Kool & The Gang)

2008-06-14T10:33:00.005+01:00

Khiva is a beautiful city, with the old part of the city held within fortress walls. It has been heavily restored, and gives some idea of what the city would have looked like in years gone by. The mosaic tiles are beautiful, and so was the weather, if a little hot! We were taken on a city tour which was expertly led by our guide Jalol. Khiva is his home city, so he gave us a very thorough and entertaining account of why Khiva is the centre of the world. For example, the man who invented algebra was from Khiva, although he was forced to move to Baghdad during his life and so that is why it is said that he was from Baghdad. We visited madrassas (Islamic schools, which used to be more like universities, not just teaching the Koran), and mosques, none of which are operational today, and learnt a little more about the branches and customs of Islam. We also learnt that Tsar Nicholas II introduced syphilis to Khiva via an attractive woman when the Khan (ruler) of Khiva coveted the Tsar’s wife!

Tiled minaret:

From Khiva we headed to Bukhara, another Silk Road city. Bukhara has not been as extensively restored as Khiva, however it did appear to be the home of shopping. We again visited madrassas and mosques, but the inside of all of them was dedicated to shops – scarves, head-dresses, jewellery, embroidered cushion covers, clothes, shoes – there was nothing you couldn’t buy. We had a local guide take us around the city, and we saw many beautiful sights, again dominated by mosaic tiles and rich blues and turquoises.

The weather has continued to be quite hot, and it has taken it out of people a little bit, so there are many afternoon naps being had! All around the desert areas we have been amazed by the difference in temperature between summer and winter. For example, in Bukhara, they were busy demolishing part of the fortress walls which were damaged during the winter by the temperatures which reached minus 25 and minus 30. And we are wandering around the city in temperatures topping plus 35, while our guide told us we were lucky we had not been there the day before when it was 40 degrees in the shade. The Uzbeks are a very hardy people I think!

We had the luxury of three nights in the same hotel in Bukhara, so we dedicated the middle night, a Saturday night, to Ladies Night. We all got together in one of the girls’ rooms, and made cocktails with the lovely watermelon, plums and apricots that are so readily available (and very cheap! We got 5kg of watermelon and 1kg of plums for a total of 3000 Som, which is about £1.15!). We unleashed our ruffty-tuffty feet and I painted all of our toenails, while Alexa operated an excellent hair straightening service! Suitably spruced up we headed to an “Italian” restaurant (one can only eat so much shashlik and tomato and cucumber salad) and had a lovely, and fairly sedate night! Wish the same could be said for the boys! Suffice it to say it was a pretty quiet day the next day with some very sheepish boys. And it did prove once and for all that the girls are definitely a calming influence on the boys!

Pretty toenails:

Edel, Jo and Elaine at the restaurant:

Jen, Maura & Alexa at the restaurant:

“Always Coca Cola”

2008-06-14T10:32:00.002+01:00

Departing the gas craters we headed further through Turkmenistan’s Karakum Desert towards Uzbekistan. It is the hottest desert in Central Asia, and did not disappoint as the temperature hit 44 degrees. We turned on the air conditioning (opened the windows) and settled in for the drive along some very dodgy roads (although apparently they were an improvement on last year and we made good time). We enjoyed mystery meat and desert bread sandwiches by an irrigation canal with the wind making it feel like we were in a blast furnace, and then an excellent decision was made to try to find another part of the canal in which we could all have a swim. Our local guide directed us to a lovely wide part of the canal and there was a collective hiss and sigh of relief as our overheated bodies hit the water! We were able to camp next to the canal, and so spent the afternoon in and out of the water and relaxing in the shade once the shadows lengthened. Penelope continues to yield new surprises, and this time it was kites, which turned out to be very useful in ensuring that the wind dropped nicely!

Canal bush camp:

Unfortunately the next morning saw the inevitable happen to me for the first time… A bug had taken root in my stomach and I was not well at all (I even skipped the champagne which we had for Terry & Lesley’s 31st wedding anniversary, so that is a sign of how unwell I was!). So Dr Pete prescribed flat Coke which I sipped away at gingerly, and attempted to sleep on the truck as we continued through the desert to the historical monuments of Konye Urgench near the Uzbekistan border. Fortunately it was a much cooler day (although that is a relative term!), and we wandered around the monuments which included the 2nd highest minaret in Central Asia which dates from the 1300’s (although it has a bit of a lean-up, so I would get here in a hurry if you want to see it!), and a hill down which women can roll (although disappointingly they just seemed to be walking down when we were there) to boost their chances of pregnancy.

It was then time to head to Uzbekistan, our 14th country (if you count France and Slovakia, both of which we just transited through). It was a pretty uneventful border crossing once we had sorted out the Russian customs declarations (fortunately it is much easier to leave Turkmenistan, than to enter it!), and we picked up our local guide Jalol and headed to Khiva.

“Burning ring of fire” (Johnny Cash)

2008-06-14T10:31:00.004+01:00

Having boarded the Caspian Sea ferry on Wednesday 28th May, we finally entered Turkmenistan in the afternoon of Saturday 31st May! We had celebrated two birthdays, and spent 3 nights trying to sleep on the boat. The 31st was a day of firsts for us – our first lunch prepared while driving (cutting cucumber and mystery meat while bumping along Turkmenistani roads was quite an experience, and as for the molten margarine and Branston pickle…), our first night drive, and our first truck quiz hosted by Quizmaster Edel. In order to try to make the most of our very limited time in Turkmenistan, we needed to drive through the night to arrive into Ashgabat, the capital, early in the morning on Sunday so that we could visit the Sunday market and attempt to get back on track. Driving through the night can be a bit of an adventure in Turkmenistan as there are road blocks every 50km or so, and they can stop you from continuing on if they so choose, but fortunately our guide was able to sweet talk us through, and we finally rolled into Ashgabat at around 4am. The market that we visited is the largest in Central Asia, and is famous for its “flying camels” where a crane is used to load camels onto the back of trucks. While the crane was not in operation while we were there, we did see many very obstinate camels being caressed and cajoled into walking onto the back of the trucks, often unsuccessfully. Quite a sight (and sound) to behold! The rest of the market was an amazing mass of colour and activity – the women are all dressed in traditional long colourful dresses with equally colourful headscarves, and everything conceivable was available for sale from zips to fruit and veg, some very dodgy looking meat and carpets. Camels in the market:

After the markets we headed back to the hotel and spent the afternoon by the pool – a very welcome luxury given the temperature was heading into the high 30s. Not very “ruffty-tuffty overlander” though!! Wandering around Ashgabat the next morning led us to invent another competition (there is always something we can compete about!). This time it was who could get permission to take the first photo! Around the major monuments there are guards posted on the street about every 50 metres, and one of their roles is to ensure that you don’t take photos of anything unauthorised! It is an amazing city – full of white marble and massive gold statues, and very few people! But we did hear a radio playing Leona Lewis in the midst of all the madness! We went up the lift at the Arch of Neutrality and got amazing views of the city including the President’s Palace and the largest mosque in Central Asia off in the distance – it is modelled on the Blue Mosque in Istanbul, but is larger, and up to 20,000 people can pray there at the same time.

Elaine & C at the Arch of Neutrality: Madly dashing back to the hotel to sneak in another swim before we were heading off, we arrived, dripping in sweat, only to receive the very welcome news that we were staying for another couple of hours as there were some hassles with the visa extensions that we required due to the extended crossing of the Caspian. We finally hit the road in mid afternoon and drove for a couple of hours through the desert. We eventually pulled off the road, and parked up in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. Our local guide then headed off on foot (although none of us could see that there was anything around for him to head to!), and returned triumphantly in the front of an old Soviet truck.

Our transport to the gas crater:

We all jumped into the back of the truck, our heads peering over the sides of the truck like the camels we had seen in the market, and we were off over the sand dunes. After driving for half an hour or so, we suddenly arrived at our destination – the Darvaza Gas Crater. It was an absolutely unbelievable sight – a massive hole in the ground which is on fire. Words can’t really do justice to how amazing it looks, and particularly once the sun had set it was unlike anything any of us had seen before. We returned to camp and enjoyed another great meal (Thai chicken curry) and the slightly cooler temperature that nightfall had brought! Me at the gas crater:

“Maybe tomorrow” (Stereophonics)

2008-06-14T10:30:00.002+01:00

We arrived into Baku on 26th May, with the intention of trying to get a ferry on the 27th. Unfortunately we weren’t able to get on one on the 27th, so we stayed an additional night, and hoped that there would be something available on the 28th. Getting onto a ferry requires the crew to visit the port several times a day in an attempt to ascertain whether there is a ferry that day, and whether the ferry will take us. A little difficult to plan for! So it was in the afternoon of the 28th that Pete returned with the good news that we were on a ferry that night, that was due to leave at midnight. We had to be at the port at 10pm, so after celebrating Shinnick’s birthday with a cake and traditional singing of “Happy Birthday” by Lionel Ritchie (albeit in truth the celebrations had started with Jamesons for breakfast), we headed to the port ready for a night on the ferry as we headed to Turkmenistan. The night could best be described as “hurry up and wait”. There was queuing, standing around, loading and unloading of sleeping bags and other bags, a fireworks display, a very cursory security check (the metal detector beeped when I walked through, but the security men seemed quite unconcerned), a quick passport check, and then a long dark walk along the side of the ferry, guided only by Tim’s laugh. While we waited to board the ferry, we were treated to a fist fight between two crew members which added to the trepidation that many of us felt as we stood around in the dark. When we finally boarded the ship, they made the women go first, and what was a gesture of good manners further inspired fear in most of us! Having settled into cabins, with a male in each room to act as security, we were able to properly celebrate Shinnick’s birthday through the medium of vodka. With over 2 hours on the boat before we left port (at 2.23am, C having won “the guessing game of departure time”, I was only 8 minutes out), we merrily stood on deck watching the light show from the Baku television tower. The journey across the Caspian Sea was uneventful as we were lucky to enjoy flat seas, bright sunshine during the day, and no wind. The crossing took us just over 12 hours, and we dropped anchor off the Turkmenbashi port at 3pm on the 29th. And there we remained. We were in a queue of ships receiving and dropping off goods, and unable to jump the queue in any way, we sat. Our local guide texted to say that we would be in port “maybe tomorrow”. Then when tomorrow came, we were told “maybe tonight”. Tough life:

The ferry was by no means a cruise liner. We slept in bunks with rotten and pitted mattresses, and graffiti including, directly above my head, “you are so sexy”. The toilet was quite a sight to behold (platforms for your feet? Why make life more difficult for yourself?), and there was a waterless shower. But it gave us all the opportunity for much journal updating and reading (I finally finished my second book of the trip!), a bit of sunbathing, and afternoon napping. We are gradually becoming nocturnal! The only downside appeared when we discovered cabin fever had kicked in as we discussed which one of the group we would eat first if we ran out of food (the answer, by the way, after much discussion, was C for main meal, given her love of meat, then Richard for dessert due to his love of icecream and fanta, and then Maura for the vegetarian option).

Playing UNO on the deck: Unfortunately the delay has meant that our time in Turkmenistan is going to be very limited!

“Mud, mud, glorious mud” (unknown)

2008-05-27T12:16:00.001+01:00

After being kindly excused from breakfast duty by my cookgroup (the amazing Cook Group 2) on account of my birthday the night before, we headed off to the Azerbaijan border and made it through all formalities within 2 ½ hours or so. Not too bad! After clearing the border we had a quick lunch, and then continued on until we found a lovely bush camp on the banks of a river. The river provided a much needed opportunity to wash my hair and to cool off, as the temperature has started to climb. Leaving the riverside bushcamp early on the morning of Lesley’s birthday, we visited the town of Sheki where we went into the amazing Khan’s Summer Palace and a caravanseri, an old silk road hotel which now operates as a hotel and restaurant.

Khan's summer palace:

Lunch at the Karvan Saray:

From Sheki we headed to the mountain village of Lahic. Pete had warned us that the road up to Lahic made the road to Mestia look like a doddle, and he was not wrong. But we survived and camped at a picnic ground close to the village. Nightfall saw us play the first of a new breed of game – “volley-frisbee” – essentially volleyball played with a Frisbee, and in our case, a Frisbee that has red and blue lights on it, hence allowing us to play at night (although head torches are still required when it goes out of bounds!). A Kinder Egg challenge was held to celebrate Lesley’s birthday which Jo unfortunately lost, so she had to eat a piece of cake without using her hands (although there was some controversy when it turned out that her pieces didn’t fit, and I am not sure the judge was entirely honest!)

Road to Lahic:

From Lahic we continued to head towards Baku. We were surrounded by lushly forested mountains for most of the day, but we came over a hill and suddenly found ourselves in a bleak, parched landscape of hills and valleys. It was with a huge amount of excitement that Pete found a bush camp for us amongst mud volcanoes – liquid mud that bubbles up when gas reaches the surface. It was an amazing spot, and an amazing landscape, and provided many excellent aerobie opportunities. Mud volcanoes:

From the bush camp we pushed on into Baku, the capital of Azerbaijan, and a city built on oil money. Rising out of a desert-like landscape as we drove in, the city lies right on the banks of the Caspian Sea. It just seems to drip in money. Every second car is a brand new SUV, all the boutiques and shops are here from Karen Millen and Apple to Accessorise. In amongst all the money, there are still many old beaten up Russian cars and run down houses on the outskirts (complete with working oil wells next to them), and it certainly appears that the expats have a larger than proportionate amount of the wealth! Baku means the windy city, and it is apparently windy here 270 days per year – made a journey up to the top of the Maiden’s Tower an exciting experience! It is a nice city with a lot of very old history (including a mosque dating from the 11th century, which the Russian navy shot at one stage), very expensive, and feels out of place given what we have driven through to get here.

Elaine & myself on the Maiden Tower:

One of the many SUVs, and a mosque tower:

From Baku we are heading to Turkmenistan, across the Caspian Sea on a “ferry” – it might be a while til we have access to the internet again, but I am sure there will be many exciting stories from that journey, and from the complete randomness that we are expecting to see in Turkmenistan.

“Happy Birthday to ya” (Lionel Ritchie)

2008-05-27T12:14:00.004+01:00

We arrived into Tbilisi, the capital of Georgia, in the afternoon and re-discovered the joys of hot showers and western style toilets. After a bit of preening and general upgrades in hygiene, we headed off to “Russian night”, a cheesy Russian themed night similar to the one we went to in Turkey. When in Russia… so we chose to drink vodka, hold the mixer, so it was fairly messy by the end! There was Russian food, music and dancing (and Odyssey interpretations of traditional dancing of course!) Tbilisi (view from Mother of Georgia statue):

The next day dawned with bright sunshine, and many sore heads. We joined our local guide Tamuna for a walking tour around the city. We wandered up (always up!) through the botanical gardens and to the Mother of Georgia statue which sits high on a hill and has commanding views over the city. We bumped into the Dutch couple who we had met in Mestia and who were on their way to the Ukraine, and they promised to stop following us! After wandering back down the hill the “ladies what lunch” club was founded in a lovely Italian restaurant (you can only eat so much meat bread) with the greatest chocolate cake ever (until Baku, but more about that later!). A bit of emailing abd blogging, and then it was time for dinner. My starter was “Georgian style aborigines cooked with walnuts, garlic, fresh herbs and Georgian spices” – turned out to be aubergines, but someone’s translating skills need a bit of work I think. Tbilisi is a lovely city which seems to be just setting itself up for tourism to really hit (the new Prague?). Cartier and other big brands have arrived, and there were plenty of renovations going on all over the city. I would suggest that a major boon to tourism would be to sort out pedestrian crossings though. Using locals as shields to dash across four lanes of random traffic, all tooting their horns is quite an experience. And then there was “the roundabout of death” (so named by Jo), where all traffic rules seemed to be out the window. But we made it across safely and lived to tell the tale!

View of the Caucasus mountains from Telavi:

Leaving Tbilisi behind, we headed to Telavi, the wine making area. We were lucky to be able to visit a couple who make wine in their back garden, who plied us with much of their produce, fed us bread and strawberries, and poured us back into the truck. It was a fascinating visit, wine-making at its most basic, and the results were delicious (and remarkably hangover free, trust me, we tried our best!). After a short but raucous truck journey, we arrived into Telavi where our accommodation was home stays in what looked to be old Russian generals’ houses – very grand indeed! Another massive Georgian feast and more wine (cause we needed it) – I definitely farewelled 30 in style.

Pete explaining the wine making process (our Georgian is not so good...):

Decanting the cognac into a 5L container: Carolyn and me after wine tasting... Guess which one of us was drinking - you would be surprised by the answer!

The next day dawned and I was another year older. At breakfast I was presented with my present – a “Birthday Box of Cleanliness” – a reflection of my obsession with having a shower! The group had kindly filled the box with soaps, shampoos, and even a whole roll of toilet paper (quite a sought after commodity from now on…) which had been procured from the hotel in Tbilisi, and from kind donations by group members! I also received an amazing card which had been carefully handcrafted by C and her team. After breakfast (and Penelope’s overdue shower), we headed to a lovely bush camp where we were set up before lunchtime, so had a whole afternoon of sitting doing nothing. It was fantastic! As a special birthday treat, Mike T had provided the “Pink Sofa of Love” (that’s the official name for it in the catalogue!) for me to sit on, throne-like, with the only downside being a requirement to drink whatever someone brought me while I was sat on it! The blender came out and we had a strawberry cherry chacha daiquiri, which was delicious, and by far the best way to drink chacha, the local firewater. The local police arrived to look after us (as they did at all our bush camps in Georgia), and even brought wine and chacha. Mine was the first of four birthdays in close succession, and our guides gave myself, Lesley, Andrew and Jo Georgian dolls as presents.

Bush camp with the pink sofa of love: For dinner we had an amazing beef feast cooked on the bbq, and it was followed by a lovely birthday cake which was covered in cream and was very conducive to a food fight (probably not the best idea on the first of four nights of bush camping, but it made sense at the time (although I think the policeman was a little bemused!) I had an absolutely fantastic day, and could only sum it up in my traditional Georgian toast that was required by saying “To amazing new friends, to amazing new experiences, and to an amazing birthday celebration”

“Leave a light on for me” (Belinda Carlisle)

2008-05-20T06:03:00.003+01:00

Heading back down from Mestia I was able to go up onto the roof seats – two hatches at the back of the truck with fortunately padded seats allowing 4 people at any one time to sit so their legs dangle into the truck, but from the waist up they are sticking out the top of the truck. It allows for the most amazing 360 degree views and photo opportunities, and also allows whoever is driving to have a bit of fun by trying to drown you as you go through leaky tunnels, or decapitate you with low branches!

We drove on for most of the day, stopping briefly to visit a market and a beautiful old church on a hill. We also had the opportunity to see the clouds gathering for a thunderstorm, and desperately hope that we were heading in the other direction!

After leaving the town we (in the royal sense) managed to find a lovely bush camp on the banks of a river with stunning mountain views in the distance. After appeasing the land owner with a t-shirt, we settled into camp and received a number of visitors including a herd of cattle, an overnight stay by two policeman (although the chief of police, who also came to visit, did make them give their guns in before they could stay – not sure whether that was for our or their protection!). Another amazing bbq dinner (this time pork, complete with crackling) and a couple of cheeky glasses of Georgian red wine, and a lovely sunset and, amazingly, no rain! Happy days!

An early-ish start the next morning as we headed towards Tblisi. First stop along the way was Gori where we visited the Stalin Museum. Surprisingly, it was a quite hilarious visit. Stalin was born in Gori and for a town whose only other claim to fame is that it was almost completely wiped out by an earthquake measuring 9 on the Richter Scale, that is a pretty big deal. As a result, the guide gives you a fairly interesting version of Stalin’s life that manages to avoid any reference to people dying. It was only when asked directly how many people died in Leningrad that our guide responded curtly “three million” and we moved swiftly on. The highlight of the tour was a highlight for us for a different reason. We were walked into a circular room in which is displayed Stalin’s death mask. Unfortunately the room was completely pitch black. The guide was unable to explain why the lights weren’t working, however I had to admire her dedication to the cause as she marched us all into a pitch black room (complete with ramps and steps to add a little spice) to look at a black mask in the middle of the room that none of us could see. Fortunately one of us had a torch and so we were able to see the mask to a certain extent (and also not fall down the stairs on the way out).From the Stalin Museum we headed to a cave city where we were guided around by a very enthusiastic and thorough guide. We saw churches, pagan temples, prisons, living rooms, wine-making rooms and a pharmacy. We also heard about the use of “dunk” to cook bread (later to be discovered that the word was in fact “dung”), and ended up walking through a tunnel with 97 wooden steps down to the river. And no lighting. Call me surprised.

The group (including Penelope) with Stalin statue:

Back row: Neil, Mike T, C, Maura, Lesley, Terry, Crofty, Mike H, Michael, Carolyn, Jen, Alexa, Anne, Shinnick, Richard

Front row: Tim, Edel, me, Cheryl, Jo, Tamouna (our Georgian guide), Elaine

“The Long and Winding Road” (Simon & Garfunkel)

2008-05-20T05:52:00.004+01:00

Having finally liberated Penelope, we continued the 25km up to Mestia – to give you an idea of the road, it took us about 1 ½ hours! The scenery was absolutely amazing, although the heavy low cloud was making seeing it a little difficult… The crew took pity on us and decided that we should stay in a guesthouse for the two nights we were in Mestia rather than camping (I am sure it had nothing to do with the fact that Pete’s swag was completely waterlogged!). So we had beds (albeit with the Georgian version of mattresses – it was a bit like sleeping in a semi-soft bowl), and hot showers and, as it turned out, enough food to feed a small, but hungry, army several times a day. One thing our stay in Mestia reinforced about Georgia is that they are a faultlessly generous people, and that none of us could live there or we would be the size of a house! Breakfast consisted of a feast of fried eggs, fried potatoes, noodles, cake, pastries, tomato and cucumber salad and countless cups of tea and coffee. Lunch and dinner were both similarly feast-like! And then there was the wine – home brew, sold in 2 litre bottles, a little bit of an acquired taste, but I persevered and got there in the end! The weather meant that our first day which was to be hiking was instead a quiet wander round town, and up a siege tower. Families used to build siege towers into which they would retreat when the village was invaded or when they fell out with their neighbours. We saw a traditional old style house, where the animals slept on the ground floor, and the people above. Must have been a very fragrant experience. The contrast between museums in Georgia and those in the UK or western Europe could not be more significant – there was a distinct lack of ropes, “do not touch” or “no flash photography” signs, and health and safety appears to be virtually non-existent when it comes to ladders and staircases, other than to warn us that 10 people should not get on one wooden staircase at the same time. Given the way it squeaked and rocked when just one of us was on it, I think that was valuable advice indeed. We also went to a museum where the guide described virtually everything as “very unique” and “very interesting” – very true of the book that they have on display that dates from AD897. By some small miracle the next day dawned with some sunshine. Most of the group headed off to get into the “jeeps” (a slightly glamorous title for the equivalent of a very basic, very old, very Russian, but very strong VW campervan) to head up a “road” (again, a glamorous title for what amounted to a dirt track, complete with waterfalls, glaciers and rock slips that we had to cross) to the highest populated village in Europe (depending on whether you consider Georgia to be part of Europe which, for the sake of this fact, I do). It was about a 2 and a half hour drive and was an amazing experience not just for the scenery, but also for the fact that the jeeps are able to navigate the road. What was also amazing was that at the village there were pigs (and piglets – cute!) and cows wandering around all the houses, most of which sported rather large satellite dishes. I guess with 7 months of snow a year they have to find something to entertain themselves! We had lunch at a nice lady’s house and for the massive sum of 1.5 Laris (approximately 60p, or A$1.20), we had a feast which was topped off with the most amazing sponge cake and sour cherry jam. After lunch we wandered towards the second highest mountain in Georgia, and watched as two mad Englishmen (yes, they were part of our party) had a snowball fight, one of whom was wearing shorts! The journey back down the mountain was made less stressful by the fact that we were able to get out of the van before going across the rock slip section (video hopefully attached). Our stay in Mestia was lovely, and the hospitality we received was amazing. The police were worried about the security of the truck outside the guesthouse, so they insisted that it be parked in their compound so that they could keep an eye on it. The guesthouse owners plied us with unbelievable quantities of food and drink, and everyone was very friendly. Apparently there are big plans to develop Mestia, including putting in a ski lift and clearing some ski runs – hopefully the spirit of the town remains.

“Raindrops keep falling on my head”

2008-05-19T16:17:00.002+01:00

An early departure from Batumi and we were heading up into the mountains with the aim of reaching Mestia. At first the scenery was pretty nice, but it then became amazing as we started to climb up. The road to Mestia was only built in 1956 and was certainly an experience, particularly for those amongst us who are not good with heights! Sheer drops and narrow passes. We were lucky to have a particularly nice day for the drive (again, sunny truck days!) and there were many photos taken. Edel & Maura on the galleon: Unfortunately the road’s rough surface was finally too much for Penelope, and there was a loud bang as one of the springs succumbed to the pressure and snapped. We limped a bit further up the road, but we had to stop about 25km short of Mestia. We ended up camping in a farmer’s field, complete with cows and the occasional pig. Our arrival was probably the most exciting thing to happen in the area for a while, and we were soon hosting most of the town’s population – school children playing ball, the farmer and his family bringing out horses for us to ride, and putting on a dog fight for us and the police and army arrived and ended up staying the night to ensure our safety. Even the mayor turned up and told us how much they want to encourage tourism in the area. It was an absolute circus, and all in the most magnificent setting with snow capped mountains towering over us. Pete and Tim fixed Penelope, and we had a lovely dinner under the watchful eyes of the locals! Campsite: Pete & Tim at work: I can now officially dispel the myth that a pink sky at night means sailors or shepherds delight. We had enjoyed a lovely pink sky among the mountains, however the heavens opened during the night and we awoke to torrential rain! It had rained so much during the night that the ground underneath Penelope had become waterlogged, and she was stuck! It took an hour or so, many sandboards, a lot of pushing, some digging and some hot milk provided by the locals to get her out! It was a great feeling watching her head off down the hill and onto the tarmac! And any grumpiness caused by being wet and cold was dispelled by the playing of “Raindrops keep falling on my head” – our new truck anthem!

“Georgia on my mind” (Ray Charles)

2008-05-19T16:12:00.002+01:00

After the excitement of the Turkish border, we had an early departure on the day we were to cross the border into Georgia. In the end, the crossing was far less difficult than getting into Turkey (although the Aussies did have some hassles – we require visas to enter Georgia unlike the Brits and Irish, one theory being that Georgia play rugby and therefore Australia is seen as a threat, unlike England…)

After a quick visit to some Byzantine ruins just inside the border, we headed towards the holiday resort of Batumi. It is a beautiful town on the Black Sea, and we stayed on a converted galleon! The ship theme continued with a Georgian feast in a ship-shaped restaurant. The food was amazing and the wine was also a highlight! We discovered the Georgian tradition of toasting which brought a couple of the group unstuck as it requires the downing of a horn full of wine after proposing the toast! I think Georgia is going to be fun! And I am certainly glad to be back in wine territory, but must enjoy it before we head to the Stans!

Lunch at Byzantine ruins:

“Baa baa black sheep” (traditional)

2008-05-19T16:01:00.002+01:00

After Goreme we headed towards Trabzon on the Black Sea coast, via two bush camps. The first was in a valley overlooked by mountains, with a carpet of buttercups. The second was in an area that we had been warned would be difficult to find good bush camps, however we were very fortunate to come across a little restaurant with some spare land by the river. We descended en mass and set up camp, cooked another delicious meal and then engaged in a rather rough and tumble game of “snatch the bacon”. I am dreading ever playing British Bulldog given the bruises many of us were sporting afterwards. The restaurant owner’s son was a lovely boy called Omar, and he kept appearing with his English textbook and homework. After trying (and failing) to teach me some Turkish, he discovered that Sam was an English teacher, and so headed over to get his help. His English textbook was quite a revelation – useful phrases he was learning included “I like his tie, it is made of silk”, and “I hate girls who are late”. He also learnt to say “there has been a train crash in Manchester” and appeared to think that Manchester was the capital of England.

The next morning we assured Omar of his place as most popular boy in school by waving him off on the school bus. We then headed off on a beautiful sunny day (as all truck days seem to be!), and within minutes we were driving along the beautiful Black Sea coastline – sparkling water on one side, and lush green mountains on the other.

We arrived into Trabzon, and went first to a lovely little church, Aya Sofia (as the sign says, not to be confused with the one in Istanbul) and had a look around the frescoes (and enjoyed the rather nice WC facilities). We then headed into Trabzon city centre for a wander around – first stop was a camping shop with a fairly significant arsenal of shotguns and knives – more exciting for the boys than for the girls I think! After lunch at the Turkish equivalent of Pizza Hut, an hour or so sitting in the sunshine in the main square, we headed off to the campsite near Sumela monastery – it was to be our last organised campsite of the trip (already!), but it is fair to say that the shower block did not live up to Goreme standards... you would have had to have seen it to believe it!

We had a full day in Sumela, which started with a visit to the Sumela monastery – high on a hill (very high, quite a walk up!) overlooking a beautiful valley and some snow capped mountains. The monastery has some beautiful frescoes and amazing views and was well worth a visit. On the road up to the monastery the truck was caught in a flock of sheep (complete with shepherds of course!), some of which had rather snazzy head-dresses – I guess even sheep have to get dressed up every now and then.

Along our drive we had visited a small shack on the side of the road, and picked up some lamb – and then been invited in to enjoy orange tea (a change from apple tea, and tastes like hot Tang). It was our second night at Sumela that brought the lamb out, and it was amazing – best meal yet, which is saying something given the food the crew have been producing (with our vitally important help of course!). Perhaps it helped that I had built up an appetite by playing in a game of 5-a-side (the Irish, complete with matching jerseys versus the rest of the world – one Aussie, two South Africans and two English), or maybe it was just amazing in its own right. I hope we get to eat it again at some stage so that I can find out!

“Manic Monday” (The Bangles)

2008-05-19T15:26:00.003+01:00

The drive from Istanbul to our Black Sea destination of Akcakoca took us through some amazingly lush countryside – seemingly endless hills covered in dense vegetation – apparently walnut trees, as the area is the world’s largest walnut producing region. The campsite at Akcakoca was lovely – grassy tiers down to the sea, with a bar and terrace. We arrived into the campsite on Sunday afternoon, and we had all day Monday to just chill. It felt incredibly self-indulgent to spend the whole day sitting in the rain and sun (it wouldn’t be camping without a bit of rain!), reading books, chatting and eating – just another “Manic Monday” for us – I can almost hear your sympathy from here! The weather finally improved sufficiently to encourage a couple of the more adventurous of our group to go for a dip in the Black Sea. Suffice it to say, I was not one of the adventurous ones… something about the slippery rocky approach to the water, and the water temperature of 10 degrees resulted in me being a spectator only. Apparently it was very “refreshing”, but I think it took Terry a good couple of days to warm up again! Dinner was a particularly good feast of BBQ fish and chicken, and involved an amazingly strong lemon salt and a lot of tin foil!

After Akcakoca we headed towards Goreme. I had high expectations for Goreme, and was not disappointed. The landscape is truly unbelievable – a very strange collection of rocks, valleys, cave houses, underground cities and a very nice day spa masquerading as a hamam (no complaints here!). We spent a day being shown around the sights, and taking countless photographs of rocks, a few of which are below. Despite its reputation as the driest place in Turkey, our luck with the weather continued, and we were again rained on. Fortunately, with an underground “cave” with an open fire, we managed to survive! And get our washing dry, which was an added bonus.

On the third night of our stay in Goreme we went to a “Turkish Night” – cue incredibly touristy demonstrations of traditional Turkish dances, Whirling Dervishes (only one of them seemed to be actually into it properly, I think the others were a bit jaded), and belly dancing. As is usual for these things, there was audience participation required, and luckily enough, I was chosen to do some belly dancing. While I was more than qualified to provide one part of the requirements, the dancing was a little beyond me as I had been told that I did not need to dress up, and therefore had chosen to adopt my current standard attire of jeans, t-shirt, waterproof jacket and hiking boots. Hmmm, what a good look. Fortunately there were only 300 people watching, so my humiliation went almost unnoticed… But I very much appreciated that enthusiastic reception from my fellow Odyssey-ers which did help to soothe the pain, although the all-you–can-drink vodka and raki also helped.

When in Turkey… so I went to a Hamam, for a proper Turkish bath. After a sauna, and cold Jacuzzi, I was scrubbed to within an inch of my life, and was somewhat disturbed to watch how much dirt was being rubbed away. After being soaped with suds created by a trick involving soap and a pillow case, I headed off for a lovely massage, and definitely came to the conclusion that life is pretty good at the moment!

Saturday morning brought the highlight of our trip to Goreme, and that was the hot air ballooning. Thanks in part to Michael Palin and his New Europe series, the popularity of ballooning has increased hugely, and the sky was covered in balloons. It was an incredible experience, from watching the balloons being inflated, to slowly gliding off the ground, to floating effortlessly through the air, to our pilot who seemed intent on showing us how close he could go to the trees and rocks without getting snagged, to the landing on the back of a trailer, the whole thing was amazing. As you might imagine, I went slightly camera happy and have many photos of rocks and balloons, balloons and sky, balloons and rocks, balloons and other balloons, so I have only put one or two below. We were incredibly lucky with the weather (for once!) and the sun was shining, right until we wanted to stop for lunch!

"Sitting, waiting, wishing" (Jack Johnson)

2008-05-03T15:42:00.003+01:00

We departed the amazing camp in Bulgaria early in the morning as we were expecting hassles at the Turkish border - the first real border crossing of the trip. And it was lucky that we did, because the hassles did eventuate. In the end we were over 5 hours at the border, including several hours in no mans land between Bulgaria and Turkey, during which time we had lunch and provided much entertainment for the passing cars. A car full of kiwi overlanders stopped to check out the truck and chat about their time in Turkey, and a couple of other people took photos of the truck etc (we are getting used to being the freak-show wherever we go!). Caught up on some reading and chatting, and used our euro coins to pay for the rather revolting loos (although they were about a million times better than the ones on the Bulgarian side of the border!). Eventually we had the go ahead to proceed, only to be then told that they wanted to search the truck. So it was all bags off, all lockers open and the tarpaulin off the roof. In the end the search appeared to be more from a curiosity point of view than anything else! A bit of a "oh, look how they have done that" than a proper search. But eventually we made it through the border, with the traditional sounding of the horn to celebrate. A couple of hours driving through Turkey brought us to the city of Istanbul. In the two days that we have had in Istanbul I have seen the Blue Mosque, Aya Sofia, the Basilica Cisterns, the Spice Market, the Grand Bazaar and Topkipa Palace, and I have eaten a fish sandwich on the waterfront, and shish kebabs at night. We caught a local ferry across to the Asia side (and back again!). It has been a pretty full couple of days, and the weather has been amazing which has put people in a pretty good mood! A couple of drinks at night, and a little bit of acoustic music from Crofty and Maura, and it has been a very successful visit to this busy and vibrant city. The Blue Mosque:

Inside Aya Sofia:

The Basilica Cisterns:

The Spice Market:

Me inside the Topkapi Palace:

Tomorrow we head for the Black Sea, and a bit of beach time!

"Sitting on the dock of the bay" (Otis Redding)

2008-05-03T14:47:00.006+01:00

We left Bucharest early for a long day on the truck. We crossed the Bulgarian border without incident (got to love the EU), and spent the day chatting, staring out the window, playing card games, and sleeping every now and then. We visited the Bacho Kiro caves which are located near the Dryanovo Monastery, about 30km from Veliko Tarnovo. We had lunch in the carpark, and provided much amusement and bemusement for most of Bulgaria's school children who were visiting en masse. We then wandered up into the caves (everywhere we go is up... we begin to panic if we don't have to walk up 200 stairs a day... fortunately we received our quota at the caves). The site is listed as one of the 100 top tourist locations in Bulgaria. The caves have been lit nicely, and we wandered around taking photos which generally did not turn out. C, Crofty & Elaine in the caves (or it could be just anywhere dark, but it was actually in the caves): After the caves a group of us wandered up the hill (again, up) to find an elusive lookout. When we finally reached what looked to be a bus shelter at the top of the hill (part funded by the EU, glad they are spending their money wisely), we found the viewpoint, and it was worth the walk. To me, it looked a little like the Blue Mountains (but without the blue) with escarpments and masses of trees. Very Duke of Edinburgh, but without the big pack! Me at the top of the big hill: We returned to the truck and got on the road for the drive to find a bush camp. We drove up and down a large hill / mountain, and found ourselves on a plain with a lovely lake. After one false start involving driving up someone's driveway and scaring their two small boys who were outside playing football when they were accosted by the big blue truck, we found a fabulous spot by the lake (near Stara Zagora) and set up camp. It was an amazingly picturesque location, and everyone was very excited to be free camping again. Terry got the inflatable kayak out, and took tours out onto the lake, while others watched on (secretly hoping they would fall in of course!), and we set up the campfire and dinner. We had a BBQ, with sausages and kebabs, and baked mushrooms. Delicious as always. Camping on the edge of the lake: Terry & Carolyn on the kayak:

Free camping always seems to result in a very early start the next day (well, it could also have been the frogs in the middle of mating season). And I was very glad that I was up early, as I got to watch the most amazing sunrise over the lake.

Our visit to Bulgaria was very brief - we were only in the country for about 24 hours, but it was beautiful and the camp was one of the highlights so far.

Next stop Turkey.

"You can leave your hat on" (Joe Cocker)

2008-04-29T13:44:00.005+01:00

Our journey through Romania continued and we arrived into Bucharest - or little Paris as they would like to call it. As it was Elaine's birthday we had cake in the afternoon before Elaine received her present of a half head of foils and a hair cut, delivered by our two resident hairdressers, Lesley and Terry. Suitably glammed up, we headed into the only restaurant that we could find that was open on Easter Monday, which turned out to be in a delightful old building ornately decorated, and the food was superb. After a couple of drinks we headed off to a club, Revenge and took over proper Brits on Tour style. There was much singing and dancing in a raucous fashion, and we all had a thoroughly good time. A couple of the girls found themselves on the bar dancing away to "You can leave your hat on". Far too much photographic (and video)evidence, of which a small selection is below.

Mike T, Andrew and myself:

C, Cheryl and our fearless leader Pete: Jo, Maura, C, Cheryl and Tim: Tim, Michael, Crofty and Elaine (the birthday girl):

After waking up surprisingly early, a group of us eventually headed into the centre of Bucharest for a look around. We wandered down the equivalent of the Champs Elysee, and then meandered through some of the old alleyways (those we hadn't discovered last night!) and arrived at the People's Palace (now the Palace of Parliament). It is an awesome building in the true sense of the word - the second largest building in the world after the Pentagon, it was commenced in 1984 and within 5 years, it was 70% complete. In order to achieve that it required 20,000 workers to work in 3 shifts around the clock. It is 9 stories above ground, and 4 below ground. There is a 5 tonne chandelier and a 4 tonne carpet within. The tour that we went on covered only 2% of the building. The amount of marble, gold leaf, crystal chandeliers and opulence is absolutely unbelievable. Originally designed to accommodate Caucescu's ego, it is now used for parliament and court functions.

Outside of the palace:

Inside one of the many opulent rooms:

An example of the chandeliers:Some of the amazing ceilings: Tomorrow we are heading off early for a day in the truck and a visit to caves in Bulgaria, before heading to a free camp towards the Turkish border.

"Everything I do, I do it for you" (Bryan Adams)

2008-04-28T06:40:00.006+01:00

Apparently the Romanians have a somewhat unexplainable love for Bryan Adams - at dinner in the hotel (yes, hotel, not tent!) we heard Everything I Do approximately 9 times. Once would probably have been enough. We have been in Romania for a couple of days now, and it is a beautiful country. Green valleys, snow capped mountains, horses and carts - very scenic. Our trip has coincided with Easter which has caused some slight challenges, but otherwise all is going well, and we have been spoilt with a couple of nights in hotels (with ensuites!). We also did our first bush camp where we parked up beside the road, set up a fire and the tents and designated which bit of the bush was for the boys and which for the girls. Proper overlanding methinks! Thought it might be time to share some photos, so here they are. Now I am off to breakfast.

On the ferry to Calais (Elaine, Alexa, Maura, Carolyn, C, Ann, Jen, Mike H and me):

In Bamburg (Jen, Crofty, me and C): On a bridge in Budapest: Bush camp number 1: Me at Rasnov Castle (Romania):

Singing in the Rain

2008-04-23T17:41:00.002+01:00

After the dizzying heights of Cologne we headed to Bamburg, a small attractive town in the south of Germany known for beer (spoken of with such reverence that they generally used a capital for Beer). We arrived on the Saturday afternoon and decided to head out on the town to sample their speciality – smoked beer. If you can imagine drinking liquidised smoky bacon crisps (or licking the inside of a barbeque) then you are getting there. Unfortunately for the non beer drinkers amongst us, they do a spirit version as well, so no one was immune. The Bamburg economy will thank us for our visit however, as we appeared to be pretty much the only people out in the town. The barman was so happy to see us at the “Texican” (no, I didn’t think that was a word either) restaurant that when asked when they closed he replied, when you leave, we close. That was a challenge that was too much for some to refuse, while others of us returned to camp. We returned to Bamburg in the morning to wander the streets in the light drizzle. Visited the cathedral, and managed to find a creperie that sold hot chocolate as well. It wasn’t quite strudel, but it was close… An afternoon of driving delivered us to Prague which unfortunately had no better weather, and we raced to put the camp up between showers. Another fantastic meal, this time Goulash, and a couple of cheeky drinks before heading to bed in preparation for a full day of sightseeing on the Sunday. Prague is a beautiful city – unbelievably ornate and decorative (and hilly, it must be said). Unfortunately with beauty comes tourists, and tour guides carrying umbrellas (sometimes with cuddly toys tied to the pointy end of them) and some with microphones. Our first day there was a Sunday, and it appeared that the whole of the German, Italian and French population over the age of 65 had converged on the town. We wandered around the Castle and learnt many fascinating facts about its construction. As the host of “Archer’s Facts at Five” every afternoon, it was almost as wonderful as the walking tour that I did on the next day! It was then time to experience culture of another type, and go to the Irish pub to watch the final of the hurling as we have a significant Irish contingent amongst us, and they were keen to share their game with us. Unfortunately hurling appears to be a game that is only understood by the Irish, as to the rest of us it looks like a relatively quick, but painful way to die. Any sport that involves bathing in ice every night after training is not the sport for me. We emerged from the pub to discover that the sun had come out (oops), and headed to dinner and a couple more drinks. I had a lovely meal of roast duck, red cabbage and potato dumplings. The food on the trip has been fabulous, and has unfortunately put paid to my dreams of being bikini ready by south east asia. It is quite amazing what feasts for 23 people can be prepared with 4 gas rings on the side of a truck, and that is not to mention the culinary highlight of apple strudel and cream that has stayed with us well into the Czech Republic. Monday in Prague is slightly less busy than on the weekend, and Lesley and I went off to do a free walking tour. It was not as good as the one in Berlin (for those of you that I have raved about that to), but it was still fascinating for a fact hound such as myself. How else would I have learnt that in 2002 there was a flood which was so bad that one of the seals was able to escape from the zoo, or that the female ruler in the mid 1800’s decided that the Castle should look more uniform so put up a façade over the whole thing, therefore there are windows in the façade that don’t correspond to the windows in the original building so therefore provide limited visibility? It was the castle renovation equivalent of wearing shoes that are massively uncomfortable, but look good. There were many historical facts and dates and Hapsburgs and Luxembourgs and other dynasties, but I only seem to remember the random ones… Next stop Hungary.

"A little less conversation, a little more action" (Elvis)

2008-04-17T14:22:00.002+01:00

Well, it has finally started! After a bus ride through the suburbs of London (oooh how scenic), a cross channel ferry journey (involving a steak and mushroom - singular - pie) and the first real test of the truck (and of the navigation capacities of the drivers) we arrived in Tournai in Belgium, set up camp for the first time and enjoyed the first of many gourmet meals (soup and a main, happy days!). The first of many self-discoveries was made thanks to the weather... no, I can't become an Antarctic explorer... A very cold start to the camping through western Europe (frost and freezing temperatures!). Day 2 saw us head to Cologne (or Köln to keep my German teacher happy). Spent the afternoon walking up the 509 (yes, that is a lot) of stairs to the top of the cathedral (useless fact 1 for the day - it is the second highest spire in Europe, and the cathedral has the widest facade in Europe) for views over the city and its 250 churches (accompanied by about a thousand rampaging German schoolkids - well, it is the most visited attraction in Germany apparently). Returned to camp for another lovely meal, a drink and a cheeky game of UNO. Then off to bed ready for another hectic day. Currently it is Day 3 and I am battling with the German keyboard (who would have thought they would swap the "z" and the "y"? Wacky Deutschers) in Cologne after a visit to the chocolate museum (useless fact 2 for the day - 418 kit kats are consumed around the world every second, and the production of kit kats is such that an eiffel tower could be built every 5 minutes). Dinner tonight is going to be in a beer hall in the city... unleashing all of us onto an unsuspecting city could spell trouble! Will keep you posted...

13 days to go...

2008-04-02T08:10:00.003+01:00

13 days til departure, and the real countdown is on! Still so much to organise, but I am sure it will all come together in the end...