Travel Location: Severobaikalsk,Russia

Travel About: natural-wonder,cultural-immersion,market

Thursday 17th August

As mentioned already, everything in our time capsule called the Trans Siberian train, operates in MT. At 02h00am [7am actually], we were all woken up to the loud strains of Russian pop songs! In 1hr we arrive in Severobaikalsk at the far northern end of Lake Baikal. The scenery has changed dramatically during the night and we are surrounded now by wonderful bubbling rivers and mountains!! Something we haven’t seen much of since Zakopane and Tatras in Poland. The vast, endless flat plains of Siberia end here and the “Blue Eye of Siberia”, the world’s oldest and deepest lake, takes it’s place. Lake Baikal is 1637m deep, is 636km long, up to 60km wide and contains roughly 20% of the planets fresh water. Severbaikalsk town isn’t too much to rave about, being a very rundown and poor place. The old concrete soviet blocks of flats abound in addition to entire shanty towns of ugly, crooked wooden houses. We heard that a few years back this lakeside town was a thriving and happening place, with the pavement cafe culture and everything that goes with it. Today, and what we are seeing, is a place where a handful of rich businesses have all but squeezed the “little guys” out, leaving in it’s wake a depressed, sad town filled with drunken bums and bored kids. Very sad indeed.

The Northern End of Lake Baikal

We discovered a small hotel, a former youth centre, and checked in for a couple of nights. The Russian ladies who welcomed us are fantastic. No word of English of course but somehow we managed to understand each other. They just giggle with amusement as we all try to get our messages across! For the first time in over a week we had a SHOWER!! but…. it was cold!! No hot water here! Desparate to get clean we had no choice.. can’t be choosy. It was a numbing but refreshing experience tho’!!

Friday 18th August

Our main mission today was to seek out a man called Rashit Yakhin, somebody who had been recommended to us, to help us sort out our intended hydrofoil trip down Lake Baikal – from top to bottom. We had his address and discovered that he lives about 10 minutes from where we are staying. Off we went and saw that we had to negotiate the highly confusing rabbit warren streets of one of the higgeldy-piggeldy wooden villages. The entire morning turned into an adventure all of it’s own. We traipsed up and down, in and around, lengthwise, horizontal-wise, vertical-wise and every which way, but couldn’t find the house we wanted. The house numbering system defies logic [at least to us] and if you find a legible street name, you score an extra point! Instead of getting all frustrated we made the outing into a sort of selfmade tour! It was fascinating to observe life here. Every single home has an extensive backyard filled to capacity with home grown fruit and vegetables and piles of wood. Being a country that reaches minus 45 or more in winter, everybody has to prepare for that, so therefore cultivates and stocks up on reserves to get them through the bitterly cold winter months. With the Siberian winter only a few months away the village was a hive of activity. These wooden villages, we think, also disguise the apparent wealth of some folk who maybe don’t wish to be seen as more affluent than other. Anyway, after at least 3hrs of not finding Rashit, we went back to our hotel and organised to use their phone. We arranged to meet him at 3pm, but called a taxi to take us there! When even the taxi couldn’t find the place properly, we felt a lot better!! We eventually saw a lady, who happened to be Rashit’s wife, waving and beckoning to us from down the muddy street. We were warmly welcomed into their home and met the man we’d heard a lot about from a fellow traveller, Scott Simon. I need to explain here that Rashit suffered from an immobilizing stroke about 15 years ago so his actions, responses and speech are quite slow. This however has not taken away the very tangible spirit and passion for life of this remarkable man. He led us into his cosy office and immediately wanted to know all about us, the first people from South Africa he’s met. We then explained why we’d sought him out and for 4hours he offered endless help, informatin and suggestions for our stay in Russia and the Baikal area specifically. He also shared some the wildly exciting ideas he has for planning Siberian winter excursions for tourists. Stuff like 10-day “trails” which would include some snow walking, sledging across the frozen lake Baikal, sleeping in big 12-man tents and generally introducing the whole concept of mid-Siberian winter adventure treks. The enthusiasm for life that this man exudes is awesome. He may be 90% immobile but his mind most definately works at a fast pace. We were so inspired by the tales he told that the 4hrs slipped by in the blink of an eye. An incredible man who touches your heart in the warmest way. It was such a pleasure to meet a man like this and his unforgetable personality has made a lasting impression on both of us.

Saturday 19th August

As a result of our visit to Rashit yesterday, we have now arranged our hydrofoil trip down the lake, starting next Wed, 4 days time. Hence we’ll be in Severobaikalsk for a further few days. There isn’t too much to do around here except lakeside hikes or boat trips. The latter being on the pricey side, left us with the walking option – BUT the weather here is changing very quickly. The rain is setting in, it’s rather cold, even icy at night, so walking isn’t too pleasant. However, walk we did!! We came across some very colourful wooden houses close to the lake and found some other wooden homes with the most intricately carved designs. A rain downpour appeared from nowhere, so we found shelter in an upturned rusty container! Then to the little beach situated on a tiny spit next to Lake Baikal. The views across the lake towards the mountains on the other side are like looking out into the vast seas of the Atlantic or Indian oceans. this lake is enormous…!Once again the rain appeared, we sheltered beneath the wrought iron umbrellas and watched as the grey misty rain swept it’s way across the lake. Back in the relative warmth of the hostel, David cooked up a storm in the kitchen and produced a wonderfully welcome, wholesome and healthy curry!

Sunday 20th August

The rain is still pouring down today and it’s a nasty icy rain! It’s hard for us to believe that winter weather starts so early here….brrr… and this hostel has no hot water at all. In fact we’ve never experienced such freezing cold water coming out of the tap. The hands actually ache from it!! We didn’t do much at all except some internet [on highly frustrating PC's which were slow and kept dropping the line].

Monday 21st August

Walking around the markets today we bumped into our new friend, Rashit, who was searching out a new tyre for his wheelchair. We chatted for a bit before continuing on our way but not without promising that we would email him from Irkutsk with feedback on our hydrofoil trip. As colder weather is definately on the way, David wanted to buy a real good Siberian winter jacket. I have cold weather stuff so am OK, but really wouldn’t mind finding a nice pair of thick, woolly Siberian boots! Wonder if I’ll ever wear them in SA tho?? We returned to the hostel to find it filled with Russian army guys who kind of just took over the place!! A rather hectic bunch of beer/vodka drinkers!

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Travel Location: Otavalo,Ecuador

Travel About: cultural-immersion,market,festival

After an uneventful boarder crossing, I took a bus for about 3 hours to a town called Otavalo, famous for it Saturday market.

One big shock now being in Ecuador is that you have to pay for everything in dollars. I need to get used to haggling over 50 cents. 1000 Colombian pesos is much easier to fight about even though it is worth less than 50 cents.

I walked around town for a little, and bought some things for hiking. Here, like Venezuela they have Nabisco/Kraft products, which means real Oreos!!!

The town is famous in South America for it’s Saturday morning market. I got home at around 2AM and was woken up by people setting up the stalls for the market at 5AM. Finally at around 8AM, I gave up trying to sleep and checked out the market.

The center of the market is in a main square, but spreads out on all the streets from there. That is why they were setting up right outside my hotel window. The crafts were pretty impressive. If I was only a shopper, I am sure that I would have bought something, but I resisted.

Right now there is a 2 week festival going on in this town. Lots of different events. I got to go to a huge concert with all different types of music. It was in the parking lot of the bus station. I had the pleasure of a little boy trying to pick my pocket, without success.

There was also a really colorful parade with people from different villages in the area in their custom clothing, doing traditional dances. It was a parade I actually liked.

And then they also had a make-shift bull fighting ring. Instead of trying to kill the bull, it was just a bunch of drunk people from the town trying to tease the bull. The bull I saw just stared at the people wondering why they kept running at him. They looked pretty stupid… good job bull!!!

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Travel Location: La-Serena,Chile

Travel About: architecture,food-&-wine,art-&-museum,market,off-the-beaten-path

Wow a lot to say as a lot has been done.

Firstly, let me mention that photos will be coming as soon as we find a place that actually has DSL or Cable, as it´s basically impossible to upload our (fantastic) photos on a 56K modem, which is all that is available where we are.

Anyway back to last week…

Monday: We arrived in La Serena after a 7-hour bus trip which was, put simply, boring. We got into La Serena without any hostel bookings, as we´d found there were heaps of people waiting around at Valpo bus terminal for tourists to recruit to their hostels. Sure enough we arrived to about 5 people all crowding around us, insisting we stay at their hostel. In the end there were 2 competitors, a guy who spoke English in an LA cap, and a woman who had prepared a ´portfolio´ of her hostel, with photos and a list of facilities (including HOT WATER). I should add that the guy in the LA cap when he found out we were from Australia, ran off (very rapidly) a list of all the major Australian cities… kinda freaky, needless to say.

Overwhelmed by their advances, we sat down to eat, and Jason noticed that the woman was still hovering around outside the café entrance. In the end we decided that if she´d take 1000 pesos (AU$2.50) less each per night, then we´d go to hers. Sure enough, the moment I said (in Spanish, of course) : “My boyfriend wants to pay 4000 pesos per night” she almost shouted “Sí!” straight away. Obviously she was desperate for people, and I started thinking we should have started with a lower price.

She drove us to her hostel, Hostel Gladys (her name… it was one of the things that put me off actually). We get there and it had turned out we´d made the right choice. In the middle of (or very close to) everything, clean, internet facilities, hot showers, and a really nice room painted in my favourite colour (purple!) and with cupboards, a table and Cable TV. The small plaza and park outside the hostel was, as are most parks in Chile, filled to the brim with teenage couples making out.

That being said, La Serena is one of my favourite towns thus far. Quiet but not isolated, Safe but not a tourist trap, and clean but not sterile, the town is a lovely getaway where you don´t have to worry about looking like a tourist but also don´t need to worry about being stuck in a town ONLY with other tourists (like the next city you´ll read about).

After settling in, we headed to the supermarket to stock up on goods. I should mention here a small fact about Chilean supermarkets. In the vegetable section and the bread section, theres a little stall where staff weigh what you´ve picked up and put a price on it, similar to how to Deli sections work in Australia. If you get to the checkout having not pre-weighed your vegetables, fruit, or bread, you either go back and get it done or leave it behind. We later discovered that we had inadvertedly bought liquor-flavoured (or should I say tainted?) Vienetta, which WAS going to be our splurge item for La Serena but ended up just being a tragedy.

We went to bed annoyed at the lack of delicious icecream, but satisfied by our otherwise-pleasant dinner.

Tuesday: Ok. I´m very excited. Because Tuesday morning something happened which I´d been waiting for ever since arriving in Chile : I got to eat Bacon and eggs. OH! The joy! Having a bacon and egg delicacy on delicious La Serena bread was just.. ah.. indescribably delicious and great, just great.

Anyway.. after breakfast Jason and I decided to see all the typical touristy stuff in the area like the museums and parks, etc. We saw:

- Iglesias (churches) : Catedral (big, catholic building with great architecture), Santo Domingo (a smaller church right next to our hostel), and San Francisco (a church next to a school which had bars all around it so really didn´t look all that inviting).

- Museo Arqueológico : The archaeological museum full of info about the indigenous history in the area. Also with a display of two shrunken heads – COOL!

- A big parkland area which, it turned out, houses animals (with no entrance fee!). Animals such as peacocks, ducks, rabbits, and condors. Yes, condors. With farm animals. What the connection is I just don´t know.

We then headed to the giant supermarket complex, the entrance to which was a big white hallway filled with calming live harp playing. As I said to Jason, it felt like a stereotypical entrance to heaven, which I guess is what the supermarket owners want it to feel like. The Lider (a supermarket chain) inside was HUGE, bigger than any Australian supermarket I´ve ever seen. After perusing it´s aisles to no avail, Jason decided to buy a Churro, and we were smart enough to get a photo of it this time. Deeeeelicious! While he was eating it, we noticed that the radio station they were playing on loudspeaker in the complex was playing.. the Neverending Story themesong? Ayayay.

I should mention that in between seeing churches, we made eye contact with a random dog that decided to start following us. Freaked out, we crossed the street maybe 5 times before losing it. In retrospect, I think it just wanted some company. But nevertheless the number of stray dogs you see does make you a bit suspicious of them.

We also booked a tour that day, to go to Islas Damas. I was determined to go out of the numerous brochures boasting Penguins.. and I luuuuurve penguins. So we booked that (at about AU$60 each, out of my extra spending money) and after tossing off our shoes in the hostel and grabbing our “games bag” we went and sat in the beautiful Plaza de Armas. We started playing the Monopoly card game, but after a while two interesting women approached us. “We Gypsy” they said to us. And they looked it. Long skirts, dark curly hair, straggly appearances, they really were genuine Latin American gypsies. After a while of pretending not to understand Spanish, one of them started grabbing at Jason´s pocket where the bulge of his wallet was showing. When he affronted them, she walked off huffed saying in Spanish “Ah! I hate you!”

Shaken, but not stirred, we returned to the hostel for a good night´s dinner and rest.

Wednesday: We´d discovered the day before that there were a few things in La Serena that we hadn´t had a chance to see but which were apparent “must-sees”.

The first was a Japanese Garden, located right next to the giant park with all the animals. We took a heap of pictures as it really was very beautiful but not, in what I´ve seen of Japanese Gardens, very Japanesey. And, as with every garden, there was a couple making out right in the centre. Nevertheless it was a nice little getaway and was a pleasant stroll.

After getting a lot of wrong directions (or at least my interpretation was wrong), we headed toward the ocean and the apparently infamous Faro (lighthouse) of La Serena. The beach had a huge sign up saying that we couldn´t swim, and we later discovered it´s because the sewerage is pumped straight out into the ocean. Disappointed, Jason spotted horses and asked if I fancied a horse ride. For AU$7.50 each we got a ride along the ocean, accompanied by the owners´ son, who I guessed to be at about 12 years old. When we started off, he kept staring at me, which was a bit strange. But then when he started helping to ´adjust´the straps which were coming loose, he started “brushing” past my breasts and bottom, after which point I decided I would adjust my own straps. His hands got slapped away only once more after that, and I think he got the message.. I should say as revenge though, I only gave in 75c as a tip, which is probably more insulting than pretending I didn´t know he should get a tip. If he wasn´t so young (and I´m guessing he didn´t go to school which probably made him even more young) then I wouldn´t have paid his father anything either. Nevertheless it was a small glitch in an otherwise hilarious experience: though not for Jason, as not only did his stomach hurt when his horse gallopped, but his horse also kept trying to turn around and go back. Naturally, this was side-splitting for me, and side-splitting in a less positive sense for Jason. As Jason said, his horse was completely “retarded”.

After a quick and cheap taxi ride back to the giant supermarket, we grabbed some extra food, and I discovered an as-yet-untapped cheap food resource: the dehyrated soups. for about 50c a packet, I could get half a meal in soup form. And we´re talking really big packets which make about a litre of soup. I call this my “soup economy” idea.

We got back to town and dropped off our food, deciding to find a vegetarian restaurant listed in my guide book. Unfortunately, after much searching and despairing (on Jason´s behalf), we couldn´t find it, and came to the conclusion that it must have shut down in the two years between the book´s release and our travel to the area. We went toward the supermarket, deciding to find another restaurant instead. On our way, a man in a tuxedo approached us. Thinking he was yet another hostellier trying to convince us to go to his hostel, I was pleased to see he was actually from a restaurant trying to recruit customers.

He started following us and we said we´d think about it. When we got to the restaurant area (after briefly buying Jason some goggles), we went up the escalators and found literally (and I mean literally) 7 people all in tuxedos all harrassing us to come to their restaurants. They were following us around and all trying to shout over the top of each other. Overwhelmed, we ran. We actually ran. We found a restaurant where nobody was trying to recruit us, sat down, and ate. We had a fish dish covered in Shrimp sauce. I preferred the fish, Jason preferred the sauce. Yes, that´s right, Jason´s eating fish now. My guess is more out of necessity than desire, as the options for vegetarians here are slim to none. In the end, for a large delicous fish dish for two, chips, salad, a beer and a soda, we paid AU$25. Not bad really.

Jason and I also realised at that point that we´d never had a sit-down meal at a restaurant together, just the two of us. Never. Strange but true. It was a nice experience, despite the view from the balcony being that of a taxi rank.

We also took Wednesday to visit the Museum Gabriel Gonzalez Videla, an old Chilean President from La Serena who had kicked our famous poet Pablo Neruda out of government. It was one of his old houses and filled with stuff from his time, including the clothes he wore to parliament.

Back at the hostel, Jason taught me the chords D, A, A minor, B, G, and C on guitar, and we decided that after dinner we would have “sit-up games”, whereby the loser of any given game must do more sit-ups than the winner. This is in order to be consistent with our joint aim of improved fitness. I should mention there was a big controversy over a game called Battlemasters, which ahd the most sit-ups at stake, because horses can´t go in the tower because they cant climb the stairs, yet Jason´s ogre (clearly a beast far too large for such a small tower) was allowed in to kill my crossbowmen.

….Errr… anyway… After fulfilling our sit-up requirements we packed everything up, ready to leave at 8am the next day for our Penguin tour.

Thursday: Our last day in La Serena, and also the day of our tour of Islas Damas, or “Penguin Island” : which is not a translation just what I like calling it. We got driven to a small town up the coast, the drive taking about 2-3 hours in itself. After almost foretting the camera, we got on the boat and headed to the island, with Jason getting even more motion sickness (wherever there is a bus, or plane, or train, or boat: his motion sickness will be there). We got to see a whole bunch of Sea-Lions and Penguins (YAY!) as well as Cormorans and lots of other birdies. See the photos (once you can) for an awesome summary of what we saw.

We had snacks on a smaller island nearby, where we had some tea and got a close-up look at some awesome cactii. When the guide found out about Jason´s motion sickness, he insisted Jason stand at the front of the boat holding onto a rope for balance. Sure enough, once this was done, Jason was no longer motion-sick (tada!) and I got to get to know the guide a whole lot better as he discussed his relationship woes.

APPARENTLY, he and his girlfriend of two years live in different cities and when they´re together they always fight, but once they´re apart they fall back in love over the phone and can´t wait to see each other. Combine this with his indecision about whether to buy a cake and then take it to her for her birthday, or whether to get there and THEN buy a cake, and you could tell this relationship was going a little crazy!

We had another fishy lunch at a restaurant covered by the cost of the tour, where the German couple we were with were debating with the guide about how different (or not) other countries of latin america were in comparison to Chile. Also, after lunch, a couple who had ived in Australia asked where we were from and were thrilled to hear we were from Sydney. It was really strange because the town in question has a population of about 300 people, so to find two from Sydney was strange to say the least.

I found out a whole bunch of facts about all that we saw which I wrote down but won´t bore you with on here.

Anyway, we drove back to La Serena with an hour to kill before our 16-hour trip to San Pedro de Atacama commenced. We´d gotten the last two seats and decided to fork out about AU$50 extra to get the buses with the more bed-like seats. A decision we certainly do not regret, as it allowed us to actually get some rest on this giant trip. By Friday at 11:30am, we were here in San Pedro de Atacama, 2300m above sealevel, yet again being accosted by hostel owners.

Photos now added! Please click on the See More Photos button as there are heaps more, especially of some of the animals we saw and a few other random tidbits

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Travel Location: Cardiff,United-Kingdom

Travel About: park,shopping,market,working-abroad,study-abroad,theatre

Ho there blogites!

It’s been hard to find time to write as my internet time is scattered and we’ve been working 12 hour days. Well…sometimes those last couple hours are spent at the pub, but the day is stressful sometimes and hey…we deserve those 2 hours of pub work. So last time I wrote I had just arrived in Cardiff, startin the theatre work. I’m interning at the Royal Welsh College of Drama and Music. It’s a small conservatory (they only take 20 new admits each year to each program) with a small “campus” to match (really only one building) but it is surrounded by a great Park. The park is beautiful as I saw on the only run I’ve taken on this trip (walking a city is plenty of exertion!). THough i was battling the rain, it felt great. It really is a nice way to see a place…just go out for a jog. See others along the way…it was amazing how many people were out and about on such a “wintery mix” day. I suppose they are so used to the rain it doesn’t even occur to them that the next thunder & lighting storm of the century looms directly above. My running speed on the way back did pick up considerably (just don’t die…just don’t die…)The student apartments we are staying in are swaaaanky! …and that was completely unexpected. similar to hamilton, as it’s in suite style (know here as a flat) but there is twice as much space, we each have our own bathroom and everything is brand new. Although, there is the fact i feel like i’m living in a security vault. Get this, i need a key to get into the entire apartment area (actually they are so high-tech…it is a scan key), the same key to get into the building, another key to get into the flat itself, and then one more key to get into my actual room. i was shocked that both the kitchen and personal bathroom were not outfitted with a key lock..i mean…i think that’s a little risky. Ohhh i forgot to mention the laundry room contains all brand new equipment, a flat screen tv and leather couches. We’re thinking of having a party in there. We spent our two free days walking around Cardiff and checkin out the sites. there is shopping galore and we found a cool little market where we bought some fruit, and i got way too excited when i saw “waiit…those look like…yes..i am in wales…welsh cakes!!” which i bought for all of us…yummm. We also found some cool little alley ways with some cool independent punky stores and a record shop i warned i may have to spend an hour or so in. i talked to some kids there and found some sweet welsh punk music…rock! and apparently this record store claims to be the oldest…ever….established in 1894. who knows if it’s true or just the welsh gettin all excited about having invented the song and all that…yep….invented the song. hey…someone had to…

As for the rest of our time not spent lounging about in the apartment, we’re completely shielded from the weather inside a black box called the theater. For the first few days we recreated the space we will have in Edinburgh, which we also build from the ground up. It has been calculated that in any one day during the Edinburgh Fringe Festival 3000 performances will take place. Any available space is used for theatre. We will be in a tiny church. It was educational and rewarding to build the theatre from nothing. saw the entire construction and wiring of a lighting rig, the sound equipment and all the staging and seats (no wiring involved here obviously). but recently, although the days are long, unfortunately I can’t say that all this time has been spent working. It’s weird because I thought every day would be INTENSE working, but in fact it seems like we’re often desperate to find things to do and just stand around chatting about our next tea time to come (yes…we take tea breaks). But once we’re in Edinburgh i know this will pick up when we’re running 3-4 shows a day with about a half hour for turnaround time…yeeeah. And apparently pubbing is expected every night of the week. Oh boy. the two shows I’m mainly working on include a “science” show which is more like a mess of science tricks, video, and music all disjointedly interspersed. Some cool moments but it’s all so jumbled together that it’s tiring to watch, especially so because the actors are well…not exactly actors….quite painful at times i must say. Luckily they are awesome people so it’s no trouble to work with them…just slightly painful to watch it at times. The other show, in which I have the responsibility of 58 cues (and that’s just for visual powerpoint slides) is a musical about child abuse, performed by kids aged 13-20 years old…hmmmm. It’s pretty much like watching a high school musical…and we all know how that feels for an hour. Another show, about Dylan Thomas’s life is cool though. We’ll see how I feel about all of these after 3 weeks.

something completely different: don’t worry! we easily made time in our busy schedule to pick up the new Harry Potter book at midnight on the 15th…quite exciting! We stood in line for over an hour. I’ve only spent a couple of days reading and i’m already 250 pages in. Ahhh to revel in our nerdiness. because our days end so late we often just start our free time at around 8 or 9 or 10pm. Romina’s birthday was yesterday and after the shows we all went out for “Curry” (Indian food) and ate our second dinners at 11pm. then some cake of course. the food was amazing…but the feeling in my stomach that night and the next morning was more like bed-spring bending, which it actually was making a loud pop as i rolled my gluttonous self over. it was comical.

So you ask…what is the title of this piece? making some political statement? ha…of course not…me? well anyway,…we all know that it rains incessantly in Wales, but the rain they’ve had this July has been unheard of and quite odd…even the locals (two specific theatre pals) are confused by the crazy weather. There is serious flooding in parts of the country, and thousands of people have been evacuated…oy. i’m hoping the island doesn’t sink while i’m here. that would just be no fun. Evidently the reports so far have said that havne’t had this amount of rain (within these past 3 months) for 230 years. record breaking. As Daz said “i’ve seen rain…i mean…of course, i live in wales…but never anything like this”. Maybe the weather gods wanted me to feel like i was back at hamilton! either way…rainy or sunshiney, it really is nice here and i can’t wait to see other parts of the country on our drive to Edinburgh. unfortunately seeing family has proved difficult as both the phone numbers grammy gave me didn’t work…sad!! perhaps i’ll just have to return to make the visits and manage to join the ice hockey team here (yes they have a rink in town…new and everything) Well, see you in Edinburgh!

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Travel Location: Seattle,United-States

Travel About: food-&-wine,big-city,hiking,nightlife,market

Finally made it…

Now then, if you’re an avid fan of this travel blog, you’ll notice that I seem to have taken a crazy route from Victoria to Seattle. This is not the case. I am not crazy. It is merely a technical hitch in this software, and I am assured that it is under investigation. So now you can sleep tight. If you’re really interested, the route was as follows:

Scenery and seafood

Ferry from Victoria to Port Angeles, bus from Port Angeles to Sequim, bus from Sequim to Port Townsend, bus from Port Townsend to Poulsbo, bus from Poulsbo to Bainbridge Ferry Terminal, ferry from Bainbridge to Seattle. Yes we could have taken the Clipper, but that was way more exciting and super cheap – the buses came to a total of about $3.50 each, and the ferry only charged in one direction, assuming that everyone who takes it one way will automatically take it back. Luckily they charge westbound. Ha ha, look at us beating the system!

Anyways, I digress, I’m in Seattle remember. Anyways, got off the ferry, and onto another bus to our hotel. Yeah, turns out it’s a motel. Oh well, I’m sure it’ll be lovely. Yes, a smoking room will have to do. Nice. Dumped our bags and hopped quick smart back into town!

On first impressions, downtown Seattle is not that nice. Not that the city itself isn’t nice, it’s fine, but the streets are overrun with homeless people, and an awful lot of begging goes on. It’s quite a sorry sight.

We headed to the world famous Pike Place Market, but it was gone 5, so most places were shut. After a bit of a wander down the pier, Mike decided he was hungry, so it was off to Quiznos, where we sat playing scrabble for an hour (well you can’t play tourist all of the time!). After that, we took the free trolley through town and on to Chinatown.

The thing about some Americans is that it’s often difficult to tell if they’re nuts, or just really friendly. So if a woman walks up to you and asks you what you’re looking for, and you offer half an answer in order to sound polite, and you tell her that you were looking for somewhere to eat (I wasn’t hungry when we went to Quiznos). So she tells you that she knows loads of good places, and if we like she’ll take us. Now is she crazy, and is she gonna take us down a dark alley and do nasty things? Unlikely, it’s about 6.30 in the evening, in broad daylight on a fairly busy street. Or is she just trying to be really friendly, helping out two people who were clearly tourists? In the end we figured she was just being friendly, if a bit odd, but aired on the side of caution, taking her advice on a general direction of good restaurants, and then parting company.

As it turned out, we should have been much more afraid of our waitress. Found a nice little restaurant, and had some dumplings, a few beers, and a very pleasant long chat. Upon paying our bill, we asked the young lady who had served us to point us in the direction of a particular bar, Howl at the Moon. I had been to one (not realising it was a chain bar) in New Orleans, and had had a great night. We showed it to her on our little map of downtown. As far as we could see, it was only a couple of blocks away, but we weren’t 100% sure where the restaurant was located. But like I say, it turns out the waitress was nuts. Either that or she had only arrived in Seattle herself that day, or maybe had never seen a map before. After turning it upside down and the right way around again 4 times, she suddenly declared that it was very very far away. “Really? How long will it take us to walk there?” “30 mins. Maybe 20 if you walk very fast.” Seriously, it was only about 3 blocks away. We thanked the crazy lady and left.

In the end we just called into a dingy little bar on the way home. We got directions for the next day, and had a beer. There were little tickets in a dispenser behind the bar, and Mike’s curiosity got the better of him, and he bought 2. It turns out they were a lottery game, you just peel off a label and see what you get. We got nothing, which was highly disappointing, given the $1000 and $10,000 prizes that had been scratched off as already won. So I decided to give it one more go, and bought another 2. Mike peeled his off – nothing. Imagine my surprise and delight when, on peeling away the label, I found a winning strike through the symbols, just like the bartender had said I needed to win!! I won!! I had actually won on the lottery ticket!! I was rich!!

I won a dollar.

Oh well, I was still very happy with my win. Elated, we headed home.

Next morning, it was up and out early. Hold on now, I’ve not told you why yet. Ok, let’s go back a few days here, to the boats in Vancouver. Remember Clint? Not sure if I mentioned him actually. Well he was another friend of Mike’s from when he was travelling before. Clint’s from Seattle, and had said to Mike to get in touch when he got there. So Mike had done the day we got there, and we had arranged to go hiking. Clint had said we’d be out for an hour or so, so we figured we’d go early, then get back, shower, and go meet the other two (we hadn’t seen them in over 24 hours!!). So like I say, up and out early, and headed to East Point park and ride to meet him. “Hey guys, ready for a day on the mountains?” Oops, I guess Mike misheard the bit about the hour or so… So we picked up a sandwich in Starbucks, met Clint’s wife Sarah, and his friends Pat and Clara, and set off for Rattlesnake trail. It was a great morning, we hiked for about an hour (I guess that’s where they got their wires crossed) up to the top, and were treated to some fabulous views of the Seattle countryside. We spent a while chatting at the top and admiring the landscape, then headed back down. That’s when my legs knew all about the run I had done a couple of days previosly! Man it’s easy to get unfit quickly! We drove on a bit further to a beach, and had a bit of a picnic, which was nice. After that it was back to Clint’s for a few beers, then back to the Motel to meet Rick and Nicky.

We went for a teryaki down the road, then to a pretty dingy bar near our motel. Jumped on a bus downtown, and decided to go with Clint’s advice on the stamps. Basically you paid for a stamp which gave you free entry to a group of bars. We started off in some Rock stylee place, which was pretty empty, so we left and went to the next one, New Orleans, a blues bar (obviously). After that it was on to a more popular dancy place. We had noticed a lot of Redsox fans in town, and there were a group of them in the bar. Given that we were now hardcore fans (we were in Fenway Park, for goodness sake!) I thought I should keep us updated on how the season was going for us. So I got chatting to a group of them (turns out we lost). I was telling one of the guys about our tour of the ground, I swear, he nearly cried when I told him we had gotten field access. I guess we really did luck out that day. Next stop on our list of bars was a Heavy Metal spot, then on to (hurray!) Howl at the Moon. It was just as crazy as I remembered it. The barman was a bit of a loon. One of the lads got a round of shots in, and when I told him I was having Jeagar instead of Tequila, Travis our bartender told me mine was on him, and he did a shot with me! Anyways, we all had a good laugh, and Nicky and I ended up dancing on stage in front of the two grand pianos that are the Howl at the Moon signature. My god I bet we looked good.

Day 3 in Seattle, and it was time to pack up again. We checked out, left our bags in the motel, and headed downtown. We didn’t have a lot of time (we were up a bit late after quite a late night), so we went to Pike Place Market to have a look for these fish. Anyone who worked with me and saw the promotional videos they had on graddie training for – I don’t know what for actually, maybe having fun in the workplace? – will know what I’m talking about. It’s basically a fishmonger, but with a difference, with lots of audience participation and throwing of fish. To be honest we didn’t really see that much cause no one was really buying any fish, but it was nice to see after seeing it on the tele.

Rick decided that he couldn’t walk past all the cafes and restaurants selling clam chowder, so we arranged to meet him down by the pier, and headed off in search of The Crab Pot. It was a kind of novelty restaurant that Pat had told us about, where they pretty much chuck a load of seafood on a piece of waxpaper on your table, give you a wooden board and mallet, and let you at it. I wasn’t particularly happy about smashing up crabs, particularly as I had seen the poor blighters swimming around minutes earlier as I was being shown to my table, but I can assure you it was a much more pleasant seafood experience that the one in Boston!

Fed and watered, we didn’t have much time to do anything else, so after a quick trip to an internet cafe, we headed back to the motel to pick up our bags. Luckily the bus to the airport went from just down the street, so we headed up to catch it. We ended up bombing it down the street cause it was already sitting there, but when we got to the stop the bus woman didn’t open the doors, as it wasn’t due to leave for another 10 mins. So we sat around for a while, until she started up the engine. The silly mare was about to drive off, when we banged on the door. She didn’t look best pleased about that, and when we asked her if we could get on the bus, she none too politely informed us that it went from a stop about 3 miles down the road!! She was actually not going to let us on!! Eventually she did, but we just couldn’t get that smile out of her!! It turns out none of the other customers could either – she even tried to refuse a guy on the bus cause he was 2c short of a $3.50 bus fare. Dizzy bint.

Anyways it turns out I shouldn’t have slagged her off cause our flight to San Fran was delayed by 3 hours. Dammit!

Click here for the Seattle photos

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Travel Location: Perth,Australia

Travel About: natural-wonder,wildlife-viewing,beach,island,nightlife,market

Hi Everyone,

Hope you are all well at home, well I made it to sunny Oz in one peace thankfully! Landed in Perth, and had 6 nights there. The hostel was really nice, but have to get used to this hostel business, its like being back at uni, everyone writing their name on their food, and having their own self in the fridge, and eating cheap food – lovely. Anyway Perth was lovely, we probably had a bit too long there, as there is not too much to do.

Perth to Darwin

The best thing we did in Perth, was a trip to Rottness Island, which was great fun, but the ferry ride there was not! Anyway we got to the island and we hired some bikes and started riding round the island.It was great fun, sad I know but I loved and I looked such a geek on my bike, helmet, rucksack!!! After about 2 hours I was shattered, not as fit as I used to be, it killed my legs. Anyway the island was lovely, had loads of bays and deserted beaches that you could get to and the sea was so blue and clean, it was really good fun! Oh and they have these animals called Quokka’s and they are only found on the island, and they are actually giant rats!!! Yes that’s right and we saw loads, actually once we saw them they looked quite cute! But they did have massive rat tails, they were huge and not so cute. Oh and I saw a snake on the island, so much for all the people who said I wouldn’t see anything. IT was massive and I had a quick look and kept on riding!!!

Anyway after Perth we flew up to Darwin, which is definitely a lot different. The hostel was horrible, the kitchen was outside and was covered in flies, so we didn’t cook much in there!!! We spent 6 days here and wondered round the town, lots of good bars actually which was good fun. We went to the beach there which again was deserted but the sand was a funny colour and the sea was miles out. We also went to some night markets there, which were good fun, but if I’m honest a bit too hippy for me!!! Our last day in Darwin we went to Adelaide River on a boat to see the crocodiles. It was great fun, the crocodiles were lovely. I thought I was going to be jumping and screaming, but I wasn’t. The people were holding out giant pieces of meet for them and they were getting them to jump right out of the rives to get the meet, it was great we got so close to them!!! Then we went to Litchfield National park. Went to see lots of beautiful water falls, and you can just jump in and start swimming, that was a bit strange, as you obviously cant do that back home. I don’t like even going into the sea at the seaside. The water so clean you could even drink it!

So after Darwin we caught the train down to Alice Springs, where I am now. The train took 24 hours and was soooo slow, I’m sure I could have worked quicker. But it was good fun, even though it was a bit like a prison train, there was loads of rules you had to obey!!! And the workers thought they were doormen or something, they kept walking up and down shouting orders! And we got in trouble for bring our own beer on!!!! Anyway we are off to Ayres Rock tomorrow, for 2 nights, and I’m crapping myself, I have to sleep outside in a sleeping bag for 2 nights. They sell it to you as your sleeping under the stars it’s amazing – I was like where is my five star hotel!!! I’ll let you know how I get on and how many spiders crawl over my face, at a later date.

Hope you are all well back at home and as always any news or gossip you what to share is more than welcome,its nice to here what you are all doing!!!

Take care and miss everyone

Cara x

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Travel Location: Sydney,Australia

Travel About: beach,market,surfing,aquarium

It has been a fantastic four days in Sydney, thanks in large part to Brad and Lisa’s hospitality. It is a real pity that more of their friends have not taken advantage of their offer to come visit (hint hint). It has been wonderful being taken care of with dinners and tourism hints and tips. Daniel even got to take Tonya out for a surprise birthday dinner tonight, sans Max!

We went for a walk out on the Sydney Harbour Bridge and climbed one of the pylons, where we were treated to great views of the harbour, opera house, and the suckers who paid $160 a head to walk the bridge and get the same views we had from our $9 lookout. Had a nice walk about town, through the Botanical Gardens, where we saw lots of ferns and the Wollemi pines (dinosaur tree) and at least 1000 very large bats hanging from the trees. It’s a wonder we didn’t get pooped on (more on that later). Then we headed North to MacQuarie Point and a chair carved out of rock, which apparently had wonderful harbour views for Mrs. MacQuarie in the 1800s, but now has a rather large tree in front of it! The opera house hasn’t lost it’s wow factor – still a very impressive building even after seeing it on TV dozens of times. Elli, we hope you get to set up a stage here some day! The first day ended with gelatto and a relaxing ferry ride back to Manly.

We found Nemo…

Saturday, we had Brad and Lisa’s company, and we all headed out to Paddington Market (not Paddy’s Market) on Oxford street. Very cool market, the girls were very hard to tear away, even after not one, not two, but four pigeon poops hitting home. A sombrero would have come in handy… Introduced Brad & Lisa to geocaching – they are hooked like any good nerd would be! Brad is getting himself a GPS for Christmas…

Sunday was the day for Daniel and Brad to hang ten and catch that perfect wave. Surfing is hard.

Monday, after another early 10am-ish start, we took a couple leisurely ferry rides over to Darling harbour, with more great harbour views on the way (holy tourist trap, batman!). We did the aquarium, which is a most excellent aquarium. The downside was the wall-to-wall tourists who had a particular knack for standing right in front of you and taking 1001 pictures of the platypus until they realized someone else might want to have a look…

Max is growing up fast. He slept the whole way through the night last night – the fourth time this trip so far! He is getting much more interested in walking, after being crawling-fixated for the past few weeks. Any of the other kids at home walking yet? Oh, and Max hasn’t worn a bib yet this trip – he seems to have figured out how not to drool, so T is happy now that all his cute outfits aren’t ruined by the ‘dumb’ bibs.

Now we are headed into the Blue Mountains in the morning, and then up the NSW coast to Byron Bay, Brisbane and beyond.

Cheers,

T&D&m

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Travel Location: Kabul,Afghanistan

Travel About: cultural-immersion,cultural-immersion,market,hippie,mosque,islam,kabul,sigi’s,hashish,chicken-street,bamiyan,kuchi,ghazni

Leaving Kandahar on the US built road we passed through unpopulated desert with rugged mountains visible at the horizon.  Occasionally there would be a green oasis with trees and meadows and a few small mud houses and the bus would stop to pick up more wild-looking tribesmen.  We passed a group of Kuchi nomads moving south for the winter, a long line of what must have numbered hundreds of camels, fat-tailed sheep and heavily laden donkeys.  The smallest children were wrapped in blankets and tied to the camel’s backs while everyone else walked.  The women, unlike their burkha-clad counterparts from other ethnic groups, wore brightly coloured embroidered dresses and baggy pants and left their faces uncovered.

..we caught site of the cockroaches, they completely covered the walls and ceiling..

As the day progressed so did my discomfort, it wasn’t only due to being bounced around on the wooden seat but I was also developing an increasingly dysentrous stomach.  This was more than just diarrhoea, my insides felt as if they were fermenting and I had terrible stomach cramps.  The bus eventually stopped at Ghazni and I was able to stagger off and find a toilet. After a noisy, liquid, bowel evacuation I felt immediately better and, sitting ourselves down on the carpeted floor of a chai-khana, we relaxed for a while with sweet tea and powdery white bonbons.  The people here were very friendly and we were made to feel very much at ease as we passed our remaining rest-stop time strolling around the stalls and shops. Ghazni appeared to be a centre for furs and goods made of sheepskin including the inside-out fleece known in the west as the Afghan coat, much prized by hippies at the time.  We looked at some but the smell of the uncured skins was overpowering. You could probably get away with wearing one whilst tending your sheep and goats on some distant hillside but they definitely weren’t for mixed company.

The scenery grew more mountainous as we approached Kabul and we actually managed to arrive in daylight at around 4:00pm.  The bus stopped 7 kilometres from the centre and everyone disembarked.  We were immediately besieged by hotel touts, waving their cards and loudly extolling the virtues of their respective establishments.  To escape as quickly as possible from this bedlam I picked out a guy at random who bundled us into a taxi, (compliments of the hotel) and we headed for downtown Kabul.

The Khyber Pass Hotel was OK; the people who worked there showed no particular interest in us.  We had a room for 40Afghanis with two beds, cockroaches and a small table and we had use of a shower.  There was no restaurant but they were happy to deliver pots of chai up to our room.  We had the essentials.  In the early evening we went out to eat and found the Columbus Restaurant where we had large helpings of omelette, salad and chips followed by banana pie.  We were now stoned for most of the time and food had begun to figure prominently in our lives.  To our surprise, as we filled our stomachs, two musicians, one on a dhol drum and the other on the traditional dhamboura began to play.  It was nice to hear something typically Afghan. Everywhere that catered specifically for travellers played western rock music, which was OK but not really why we came.  Of course we could have eaten where the locals ate but the choice would have been greasy mutton stew or kebabs.  On the way back to the hotel we stopped at a cake shop and, after ages spent trying to make a decision, I bought eight cookies to munch on later while even more wasted than we already were.

The next morning began well with a hot shower but Janette had diarrhoea and stomach ache. I went out and bought fresh, hot nan, which we had with honey and chai and she began to slowly feel better.  It was becoming impossible for either of us to escape the Afghan bacteria.  I suspected that our stomach problems were unavoidable if we wanted to eat, there was simply no concept of hygiene in Afghanistan and even the bread was probably made with jube (drainage ditch) water.

We needed to find the Pakistan Embassy to obtain road permits giving us permission to cross Pakistan to the Indian border.  It turned out to be a short walk away across a park where children played and groups of old men with white beards sat and talked over games of chess.  At the Embassy we filled out the appropriate forms, handed them over with our passports and arranged to pick up the passes at 1:00pm the next day.  Second on the agenda was to visit the post office and see if any mail had arrived for us.  This was easier said than done.  Everyone we asked was very helpful but they all sent us in different directions.  I began to wonder if it was a form of politeness; that it may have been considered discourteous to admit to not knowing what we were talking about.  Possibly they really didn’t know where the post-khana was and it was more gracious to appear to be helpful than not.  Either way, we spent about two hours criss-crossing the city before we eventually stumbled upon it by accident and our reward was a letter from Janette’s parents.

As we were running low on Afghanis we also needed to find somewhere to change money and the information that we had was that the cloth market in the bazaar near the Pul-I-Khishti Mosque, was the best place.  As per usual we wandered haphazardly through the maze of rough alleyways and once more entered a timeless culture devoid of western influence.  Most of the bazaar was geared towards local needs except around the edges where we found items such as silver jewellery, kuchi dresses and antiquities on sale.  The men we came across were generally happy to be photographed and I took quite a few shots in the grain market.  Janette was treated like an honorary man and was frequently called ‘Didi’, meaning sister in Dari.  There was a feeling of mutual respect for our different cultures and beliefs and Janette never felt threatened or in any danger unlike in Iran or Eastern Turkey.  An Afghan’s standing in society is partly related to the generosity shown to strangers and, in general, hospitality is shown to all visitors regardless of their religion, nationality or sex.  This respect for others comes partially from the Afghans particular code of honour but also from the teachings of Islam, for example; ‘Whoever believes in Allah and the Last Day should honour his guest,’ said The Prophet.

I managed to change ten dollars in a tiny jewellery shop where Janette bought a crudely-made silver ring with a polished grey stone.  It would have been nice to be able to afford some of the beautiful lapis but, cheap though it was, it would have been an extravagance.  Having completed all our tasks for the day we returned to the hotel carrying a bag of apples and a half-pound of ginger biscuits.  Our clothes hadn’t been washed since we had left Istanbul and were filthy, so we hand-washed nearly everything we had and hung it up to dry. I spoke to the hotel manager about the possibility of him arranging a trip to the rock carvings of the Buddha at Bamiyan for us and received an enthusiastic, if rather indefinite, response.  I left it in the hands of Allah and returned to our room to get wasted and rest up before going out to eat.  We had decided to visit Sigis restaurant, another legendary place among travellers in the early seventies, but nearly half way there Janette had a recurrence of her earlier stomach problem and we had to hastily return to the hotel WC.

But we did get there eventually and even though it was one of those western traveller-oriented places there was a great ambience.  Passing through a sturdy wooden door from the street we entered a large courtyard illuminated by strings of different coloured light bulbs.  To our left was an outdoor dining area with tables and chairs under a canopy that stretched all the way down to the building itself.  To the right and taking up most of the garden was a huge chessboard, each square measuring a foot with three-foot tall pieces on which two guys were having a game.  It was all very surreal.  Taking off our shoes at the door, we entered one of the large, carpeted rooms, sat down on cushions and ordered our meal.  We were briefly greeted by the owner, Siegfreid, a tall German in his forties with blue eyes and short blonde hair.  He’d obviously named the place after himself.  Psychedelic music was playing and people were sitting in small groups swapping road stories and snippets of information.  It was places like this where you got the latest news about border situations, visas, rip-offs, good and bad hotels etc.  The food was delicious, mixed vegetable salad with noodles followed by Afghan rice pudding flavoured with cinnamon and sultanas.  The mint tea was free and simmered gently on a brazier just outside the front door where you helped yourself from an enormous aluminium kettle.  There were two house rules, no dope smoking and no sleeping.  You would be asked to leave if found doing either.  We didn’t break either of the rules but left early anyway due to Janette’s dysentrous insides.

The Afghan bacteria were beginning to get the upper hand.  Janette was up and down to the toilet in the night and I woke up with the same problem.  We kept dosing ourselves with Lomotil, which had some effect on the diarrhoea but not on the root causes.  We were simply eating too much due to having almost constant munchies and it was impossible to know what was safe and what wasn’t.  We awoke too late for the hot water but showered anyway and warmed ourselves with hot chai.  We got the thumbs-up from the hotel manager for a three-day trip to Bamiyan and the lakes at Band-I-Amir and handed over 600Afghanis each.  As this was scheduled for Thursday we had a couple of days to laze around in Kabul.

At about one o’clock we staggered out into the blinding sunlight, through the park to the Pakistan Embassy.  The place was packed with travellers and we waited around for an hour to get our road permits.  We were informed that this department was short-staffed but there was no apparent sense of urgency.  It was down to us to show patience and understanding and not for the staff to be hurried along in any way.  With patience and understanding intact and permits safely stashed away, we made our way down the road to the Bank Da Afghanistan to change a ten-dollar traveller’s cheque. On arrival at the bank the token security presence, a very young, rifle-carrying guard in a dirty, threadbare, grey uniform, duly informed us that it was now closed for the day.  Opening hours were from 8:30am to 12:00 noon. We walked into the centre and across the Kabul River to the post office where we bought cheap postcards and wrote brief messages to friends and family whilst sitting in the sun on the steps outside.  Meandering back to the hotel we stopped in the gardens of a small, whitewashed, domed shrine where we shared oranges and small talk with the street-kids who sold packs of cigarettes from wooden trays hung around their necks.  Back in our room we relaxed, smoked dope and caught up on our letter writing before returning to Sigis for our evening meal of omelette, fried potatoes and apple pancake.  The pancake seemed to be taking forever to arrive and when I asked the young man who was serving the food why; he apologised and said that they had run out of apples.  But we weren’t to worry because he had sent someone to the bazaar and he would surely return soon.  Well it wasn’t soon but he did arrive back eventually and we did get our apple pancakes.

The following morning we were both suffering badly with dysentery.  Along with the Lomotil we popped some Tetracycline which had been prescribed for us by a friendly GP at home.  Perhaps that would do the trick.  We had our teapots of chai and fresh nan for breakfast while waiting for the wood-burner (which heated the morning shower water) to be lit.  We waited in vain.  I spent some time with the kitchen boy, Mohammed Ali, in the, ‘soon to be opened’, hotel restaurant drinking over-sweet tea.  I got him to draw me a map that would help me find the office of the Pakistan Government Bus Company that had the monopoly on the route from Kabul to Peshawar.  Unfortunately, once I was out on the street, the map made no sense at all so I set off for the bank to cash my ten-dollar cheque.  I walked through the park where, to my utter amazement, I discovered a Marks and Spencer’s store. It’s true, I saw it. This was no hash hallucination. I even went inside. It still seems unbelievable but hey, this was Afghanistan, an unbelievable place.  Carrying my astonishment with me I passed the Pakistan Embassy, turned right and then left, skirted the gardens around the white shrine, past the half-asleep armed guard and into the bank.  Once inside I was trapped, along with many others, in a snails-paced bureaucratic system where every detail had to be hand-written with fountain pens and the ink carefully blotted.  It was two hours before I finally had the exchange calculated and then another half-hour to get the cheque cashed and then they had the cheek to charge me 42Afghanis for the transaction.  Slightly irritated, I carried on to the post office only to find that the Poste Restante section was closed.  The irritation increased.  Finally, I found the bus office, but would you believe it?  It had closed at 11:30 and wouldn’t open again until 3:00pm.  The day wasn’t going too well so I returned to the hotel to see how Janette was doing.

She was feeling a little better so I took her to the restaurant for chai and toast.  I really had a craving for toast, but, even though it was on the menu, Mohammed Ali had no idea what it was, so I attempted to instruct him in the art of toast making.  There was a variety of white-sliced, western-style bread available in Kabul; small loaves of sweet-tasting stuff with a waxy consistency that I thought could be used.  But the boy didn’t get it at all and it was quite understandable, why would anyone want to burn perfectly good bread?  I gave up and we left.

We took a gentle stroll back to the bus office where there were a lot of people waiting.  There was a notice saying that all the buses were full for the next two days and some of the travellers were pretty pissed off.  Although due to open at three o’clock, no one from the bus company turned up until after four and by then a lot of people had run out of patience and left.  We found ourselves near the front of the queue and bought tickets costing 100Afghanis each for a bus leaving at 8:00am on the following Monday.  Back at the hotel we were visited by the manager who informed us that he was, ‘Very sorry, but the mini-bus to Bamiyan will not be going’, and returned our money.  This was a real blow, not only would we not get to see the gigantic statues of the Buddha in the Bamiyan Valley but now we were stuck in Kabul until Monday, another five days.  We could have changed our bus tickets to Saturday, or failing that, Sunday, but the Bus Company would have charged us 25Afghanis each for the transfer.  Remembering something that I’d seen on my jaunts around the city, we went to check out the National Hotel, which had a sign outside advertising trips to Bamiyan.  The guy inside said that he could only do it for six or seven people, not for two.  So we went to Sigis and drowned our disappointment in mint tea, quickly followed by a bowl of chunky vegetable soup and topped off with delicious cold, stodgy, cinnamon rice pudding.  By now we had turned into ravenous cannabis crazies.  The constant hash consumption was making everything feel a little unreal.  Not just there, in Sigis, but all the time.  We sat there holding our swollen stomachs until we couldn’t bear to hear the same tape of Chicago for the third time, and departed.  On opening the door to our hotel room we caught site of the cockroaches, they completely covered the walls and ceiling.  There were thousands of them, golden brown and shining in the light of the dim bare bulb.  Within a couple of seconds they had scurried away and disappeared behind the coarse matting that covered the walls.  Of course we knew that we shared the room with cockroaches but had no idea that there were so many.  We slept with the light on that night, neither of us able to bear the thought of what the room would be like if it were off.  A move to a different hotel was definitely on the cards.

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Travel Location: Cat-Ba,Vietnam

Travel About: wildlife-viewing,beach,island,market,sailing,cruise,hostel,nature-reserve,noble-house

It took a couple of hours on the Bay to reach Cat Ba, so we were sunning on the deck of the transfer boat (John says: Where very kindly the skipper brought me a cold beer!), until we could bear the heat no more and went downstairs to the shade (John says: Here Lynne said, in that innocent 5-year old “I didn’t do it” voice, “I could use the laptop couldn’t I” She typed away merrily for the rest of the trip). As we pulled into the harbor of Cat Ba, we looked at each other and said that we may not stay here for long. It looked like a deserted Western town – you know where the sheriff has run everyone out and there’s one hotel, and one liquor store and a few locals sitting around smoking. Well, that’s what our first impression of Cat Ba was. Boy were we wrong!

If you are every in Vietnam – don’t miss this one.

We popped into the only hotel in town to ask where the Noble House (the name of our hotel) was. I can take you, the desk clerk said, on my motorbike. Okay then. So, with great aplomb, John saddled up on one bike and I took the “friend’s” bike, and we rode over the hill to the real Cat Ba Harbor. There were instances on the journey, where I was definitely muttering, I think I can, I know I can, I think I can, I know I can – just like the little engine who could – as the poor motorbike was going up and over the hill.

What we saw when we finally made it was akin to Brighton, with lights, and a pier, and a fountain, and people! It turned out that our hostel (loose description, because it was far from a hostel) was dead center of town, next to the post office, across from the pier, with the best views.

Noble House – if you ever go to Cat Ba, stay there. Our host, Peter is Australian (although his accent is English as he spent 12 years in the UK) and his wife is Vietnamese. The hostel is a four storey building facing the harbor. The ground floor is the restaurant, which pours out on to the street, so you can sit and eat there and watch the world go by. There is a mezzanine to lie around and play games in. Then, the piéce de resistance, a bar on the second floor which was open to the world.

We sat there and just gazed out for ages, it was brilliant. (John says: It was also Happy Hour, every third drink was free!) The third floor housed our room, which was okay, and was typical hostel – with a separate bathroom/shower (no actual shower, just a shower head and a drain on the floor of the bathroom). There was wicker furniture and a TV and fridge. All you really need. We had hit the jackpot again, as this was all for $22 a night and that included breakfast. Peter told us that most folk are in Cat Ba on a tour and only stay one or two days – we were there for four. He jokingly said after three you are considered an expat, after four, you are a positive local!

Peter set us straight on the lay of the land and how to pay for things – there are no ATMs on this island, everything is cash and we needed to pay for our hotel in US $$. There is a “place” on Cat Ba where you can go and get out dollars on your credit card. They charge a 5% commission, but as there is no other way of obtaining more cash than you bring with you, that’s your only option. I won’t go into more detail, because I’m sure it’s probably not kosher to do that, but we used it. We found an internet café too, although there must only be one phone line on Cat Ba as it was SOOOO SLOW! We did go early in the morning once, and that was much better – fewer people on I guess.

We walked around the market, but it was late in the day and so not much was going on. The Vietnamese take siestas from 11 – 3 every day. They pull out their hammocks, wherever they are, and string them up, and take a nap. So, at the market, the stall owners had frequently hung their hammocks high over their produce. (John says: If you have read any of our stories of Vietnam you will know by now I have fallen in love with Vietnamese coffee. The one thing we did see was the small filter cup that sits on the glass to make the coffee. We got one for about $1.50 and I can’t wait to use it. Now I just need to find the coffee!) No matter, this gave us an opportunity to walk around this side of town and see what was up. The weather was warm (bordering hot) and so it was a slow walk. As we got off the beaten track a little, one woman came up to me and shook my hand and smiled. She said something, but I’m not sure what she meant. I smiled back and said hello. All the kids we saw laughed, and giggled and shouted hello. In the market, the women loved my dress (the yellow one with the fringes cut) and would play with the fringes on the bottom and giggle and point.

Dinner that night was back at Noble House. We sat upstairs in the amazing bar and watched the people on the promenade and pier, and ordered dinner. At 8pm, the fountain right in front of the hostel came on and for the next half an hour put on a water show. Not quite the same as the fountains in Xian at the small goose pagoda, but pretty cool for a tiny island in Halong Bay. They also have street lights which are neon – yep, neon. They are – well – just check out the photo we took, they are hard to explain.

Next morning, after skyping the kids and going to an internet café and checking internet (which, remember, is SOOO SLOW) we headed back to Noble House where Peter rented us a motorbike for a whopping $6! Cat Ba is a World Biosphere and a Nature Reserve. They have the Cat Ba monkeys which are very rare. In fact, there are only 56 left in the world, and all of them live on Cat Ba. Needless to say, we didn’t see any of them. But what we did see were hundreds of butterflies. When we went up to the nature reserve we drove through positive swarms of them (well, maybe not swarms – but lots). On the way to the reserve, we stopped at the Hospital Cave, where a funny little man popped out and said he would watch our bike (we later discovered that there was a fee of 5000 dong (John says: We also discovered later that we could just have left it beside the road at the bottom of the track up to the hospital, but 5000 dong is 30 cents so what the heck!) while his wife (the cave keeper) charged us 50,000 dong each to enter the cave and showed us around. (John says: Lynne asked for a ticket to the hospital as a souvenir. The Cave Keeper just shook her head…I’m not sure every ticket sold is completely and accurately accounted for….)

The information on the Hospital Cave says that: during the war whilst attempting to destroy the US air force (in 1965 and 1972) the Vietnamese and Chinese army built a big hospital inside the mountain. The cave has three floors including a cinema, table tennis room, swimming pool and 17 rooms for quarters and wards. There is an entrance on one side and an exit on the other side of the mountain.

What this actually meant was that it was built, although there is no record of it being used – ever. The cinema is a huge room with the cave being the ceiling. The swimming pool is just a small concrete bath which was going to be used for physical therapy rather than actually swimming. All the 17 rooms were empty, it would have been nice if the government had actually gone one step further and put objects in the rooms indicating what they might have been, or even just labeling them on the outside. While we were being shown around, a tour group of about 8 came through, and their tour guide was telling the group completely different information than our cave keeper. We had been warned about the validity of what tour guides in Vietnam actually knew, so it was funny to see it in process. All that aside, it was an amazing feat. Just the thought of dragging all that concrete up the mountain, whew. (John says: Reading between the lines I think that this was a big mutual friendship thing between the Chinese and Vietnamese, the Chinese wanting to help the communist Vietnamese brothers in their time of strife (and therefore gaining access to the shipping lanes into Haiphong harbor with all the materials they were supplying) and the Vietnamese who could have used the manpower to better effect elsewhere not being able to say “Thanks, but no thanks” to their large northern neighbors. Witness the fact it was never used.)

Back on the bike and round the island again. We saw water buffalo, dragon flies, more butterflies, and green, lush fields with women working in them. Small villages, children coming out of school in their uniforms. It felt like being in the Motorcycle Diaries, (John says: The bike felt almost as old!) the movie about taking a bike through South America.

We made it back to Cat Ba town and had a very late lunch, and then John dragged me down to check out the beaches. They are called Cat Ba 1, 2 and 3. Original huh? (John says: Here they try to fool you with 1 in the middle with 3 to the right and 2 to the left!) Cat Ba 1 and 3 both have four/five star hotels on them, and one has a waterpark, so brilliant place for families. I can imagine people going there and not moving the entire time they are there. We decided to check out Cat Ba 2 the next day. I was tired, wanted to go back for a nap – or a glass of wine – and we did just that.

Next day, we headed out early for Cat Ba 2. It took about an hour to walk around the boardwalk which was erected on the outside of the cliff. You can’t get to Cat Ba 2 via road, only on the outside of this cliff or by boat. We rounded the corner of the cliff – and wow! This amazingly pristine beach appeared. A sheltered cove, with a restaurant, showers, no hotel, bathrooms and most of all, no people! There were grass huts with hammocks, which had a sign on saying tent for rent, so while I paid for that, John went back to the hostel to grab towels, camera, change of clothes, sun tan lotion and stuff we might need to spend a day in this little slice of paradise. It turned out that when you rented these grass huts, (along with being given bathroom and shower passes) a tent was erected inside the hut. Yep – a tent! We took pictures. Yet again language plays a part in our adventure. When John came back he couldn’t believe it. We only wanted the hut with the hammocks, but oh well (John says: We later found out that it was set up for an overnight stay. It had a quilt on the floor with pillows and a blanket).

We did actually use the tent, after lunch I took a nap while John read, and it was great to be out of the sun. We had lunch at the restaurant, which was great, and a glass of wine (which explains the nap). We did go swimming and a few others showed up, but the beach couldn’t have had more than a dozen people on it all day. I think it was just too far to walk for most folks. As the sun began to set, we gathered up our things and headed back to our hostel. Yet another great day. We were going to be going to Hanoi the next day and had still to organize that, so dinner, and drink in the bar, and then off to bed.

Our host’s wife told us we could catch an 8 am bus to meet the Haiphong ferry, so we were up at the crack of dawn again, having our breakfast and settling our bill. In true Asian fashion, our 8 am bus turned out to be a 9:15 bus, no matter. It took us to the top of Cat Ba where we picked up a fast boat to Haiphong. Goodbye Cat Ba – you are a pearl in Halong Bay, we will be back.

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Travel Location: Dubai,United-Arab-Emirates

Travel About: architecture,food-&-wine,shopping,nightlife,market

My second day in Dubai was lots of fun. It started with another drive through Dubai. This time Ursh and I wanted to check out some of the souks (markets). The traffic here is terrible though, and it took over an hour to get somewhere that in Sydney probably would have only taken 10 minutes.

We went to the Old Souk, on the creek. It’s situated in the older, more traditional part of Dubai and kind of reminds me of Thailand as there are lots of very narrow streets with many shops on either side. We only had a quick look around, as it was pretty touristy with souvenirs, toys etc being sold. We drove past the Gold Souk, but unfortunately didn’t go in, as we had run out of time because of the traffic.

Next, we got a taxi to the Burj Al Arab. It is so so cool. You go inside into this huge foyer with a massive fountain, fish tanks for walls, and gold everywhere. We took lots of photos in here and then made our way up to the Sky View bar on the 27th floor for High Tea. For 350 dirhams (about $100) we got a bottle of Moet, berries with cream, finger sandwiches, mini rolls, cakes, pastries, scones and jam/cream, and tea/coffee. Plus everything is unlimited, you can get extra servings of anything you want! The view here was amazing. It looks out over the ocean (where you can also see the Palm Tree shaped development they are making) and back to the beach and city. This is definitely something you have to add to your list of things to do before you die!

Ursh and I then walked to the Souk Madinat Jumeirah, where we wandered around through different stalls for a few hours. Its part of a hotel complex, with lots of bars and restaurants too. Friday and Saturday are the weekend here, so there were lots of people out celebrating the end of the week.

We met up with a few of Ursh’s friends and went to 2 different bars for cocktails. Then we went to a club in a different part of Dubai called the Lodge. Sydney clubs don’t really compare to clubs here!It was packed with people and the music was great. We stayed out dancing til about 3am, and then made our way home.

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