My my, never imagined doing this.....writing our last memoirs right here in well the not quite so sunny Holywood, Northern Ireland. It's been a rough passage home but as our french friend Flo said, "La voyage forme les jeunnes".
There's no point blabbering on about the woes and mercies of returning to friends and family before we have off loaded the stories of how we got here on to your, by this time, 'bored with Rory and Ryan's adventure stories' ears!
So then, this chapter begins thousands of miles away in monsoon plagued Nepal. After Rory resurrected himself from the dead in Pokhara, and a 7 hour bus journey to Kathmandu, Joe and Janet Campbell of our hometown, welcomed us in with open arms. It wasn't long before we made ourselves right at home and our pungent aromas crushed the scent of the sweet smelling roses wafting in through open windows. Needless to say, our aroma was in a different league to natures finest, although still just part of nature! For this we apologise Joe and Janet! Kathmandu was fascinating but to us it was a rest halt, a comfortable boudoir where we could rest our weary travelled bodies for 10 days or so, preparing it for the rigours of India that scared us like a schoolyard bully. We did at times drag ourselves out of bed and discovered a wonderful city. Originally 3 ancient separate cities, now just one sprawling mass, it did still manage to keep it's distinct characteristics of each area. All had there own Royal Durbar squares, their own festivals and distinct trades. The shopping was also amazing. Even though aimed at the tourists, the clothing, art and craft work demanded that we part company with our few remaining rupees and buy up all that we could squeeze into the small corners of our bags not yet filled. Honestly ladies, scrap New York, London and Paris, even forget about Connswater, Bloomfields and Primark, Nepal is the place to go for cheap, cool albeit slightly strange, handmade clothes. Take a break from A&F, Canterburys or burberry caps, the usual NI trademarks. Try yak wool coats, Pashminas, shawls, scarfs and saris, crazy wool hats and all colours of trousers. Granted, hippy look is only trendy when one is a traveller, but other bits and pieces can brighten up any wardrobe for the price of a Maccie D's.
With less than 3 weeks before we would once again be bowling in Dundonald Ice-Bowl, it was time to say cheerio to Joe and Janet, Kathmandu and Nepal. We really enjoyed walking around the streets of Kathmandu, Trekking in Annapurna, eating all of Joe and Janet's food, meeting their freinds, attending their church and generally sponging off them as much as we could, but to be in Mumbai in under 3 weeks with toilet stops at the Taj Mahal and Delhi along the way we really needed to get motoring.
So motor we did.....for 50 hours! Our "tourist" bus from Kathmandu to Nepal will forever be etched in our memories as if done so by sharp pieces of shattered glass. Maybe that's because on the morning of the second day, while still deep inside Nepal, the windscreen mysteriously shattered, covering all of those at the front in millions of splinters of glass and delaying our journey still more. Infact on leaving, it took us 3 hours to simply drive back past Joe and Janets house where we had just come from. Atleast since we were at the very back we escaped the glass but this proved catasptrophic in other respects. Like a giant see saw, we were sat right at the end, where you sat when you were a wee kid trying to get airborn down at the park. It's cool when your small and you can get off when your bum is suitably bruised, but there's no walking away from this see saw unless you want to walk the rest of the way to Delhi, hundreds and hundreds of kilometers away! So 50 hours later, after misplacing a windscreen and after being delayed at the border for hours due to some antique smuggling going on in our bus, we arrived in Delhi, as if just taking a beating from our seats. Literally heads hit ceilings, backs and necks ached and sleep deprived brains battled with pounding headaches.
So our pansy mattresses in Downtown guest house were a welcome relief even though a cardboard box would have been more cushioned. Our meal that night was also a welcome relief as over the past 3 days we had the sum total of 1 meal. Infact, like all indian food it was unbelievable and our starving bellies just made it even better. Delhi, maybe a bit surprisingly, turned out to be nearly as good as it's food! We watched "traditional" Rajasthani music performances with the token white boy on bass guitar, visited a few important religious sights, some old ruins, Gandhi memorials and museums,....the usual stuff that by now had become just a normal day. Looking back now, how blasé had we become about some of our activities that would in normal life be an occasional luxury? Still Delhi was a surprise hit and we did really enjoy our few days there. A surprising highlight for us both was visiting a working Sikh temple with our rickshaw driver who was keen to tell us all about his faith. After our visit, it became more than just another world religion, but actually a faith that millions of people all round the world follow and practise like we do with Christianity. It became a reality rather than just a topic in a RE textbook.
Still the clock was ticking so a short train ride (only 3 hours this time) took us to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal, among other things. After fighting with rickshaw drivers and hotel managers we eventually found a shoe-box of a room that was only slightly larger than Rory, literally a shoebox. Still we only spent a few hours trying to sleep in there as we were keen to get up for sunrise at the Taj Mahal the next morning. Even at this time there were queues and the dark rain clouds obscurred any sun trying to rise and burn our noses. However, the Taj still looked magnificent! Not quite on the same level as the Eves mansion but still no kennel. Infact the closer we walked towards it in our beautiful clown shorts, the better it looked as the intricate detail took shape before us. Totally symmetrical from all angles, the Taj is nearly 400 years old and built as a tomb by the powerful Shah Jahan to honour his late wife. Now recognised as one of the wonders of the world, and one of the most perfectly designed buildings, he has left quite a legacy that is unlikely to ever be repeated or bettered. We found the wealth of these old rulers to be totally unbelievable, considering that the Taj and many other mausoleums that bejewel India's countryside are simply elaborate graves that cost millions of rupees even hundreds of years ago. What man today could afford to bury himself, his family or loved ones in something so amazing as Akbar's Mausoleum, the Taj Mahal, or Delhi's immense Humayun's Tomb?
Agra was an ancient city full of incredible sights but also desperate shop keepers. It was the latter and the pesky rickshaw drivers that drove us away after spending only one night and on towards Jaipur, the Pink City. Jaipur is famous for it's amazing forts, beautiful palaces and it's old town made from pink Sandstone. However for us and the Eves family, it will forever be remembered for it's hospitals. On our first day exploring the city, with our new friends we had met only hours before on the train, Rory decided it was about time for another few days in bed. Starting off with a headache and quickly developing into worse symptoms, the poor bloke became quite delirious and worried us all with more malarial looking jitters. Luckily a Canadian and Frenchman came to his rescue, speaking perfect English, whisking him off to hospital, phoning his poor worrying mother and trying to contact a once again, hideously lost Ryan! In the mean time Rory lay on his death bed waiting for the fateful hour. Fortunately for us all, or for Rory anyway, that hour never came. Many hours and days were spent in Santokba Durlabhji Memorial Hospital soaking up all the expensive medical treatment and lying doing nothing but waiting. India definitely developes patience. The hospital was completely different to that of ours at home here were we are given what we need as soon as you need it. In India a family member (or friend in our case) must always be present to go and buy the needed medicines and generally just give a hand in looking after the patient. Still it's all just another story, and although a miserable time, we are truly grateful of all the help we received, especially from Suzanne and Julien who did so much more than friends of less than a day, are ever expected or could be asked to do.
Eventually, a daring escape that makes the Great Escape look like a stroll through the park, was attempted and we successfully made it back to our guesthouse onboard waiting getaway rickshaws. The details of our escape will never be discussed again for everyone's safety but take it from us, it was epic. Over the next few days we lay low, barely venturing beyond the confines of our room, learning the native languages through the mediums of Bollywood and cricket. Indians love nothing more than these spectacles, not even their food but for Ryan it was not enough. Hunger and boredom drove him out into the city where he found the beautiful Palace of the Winds, Hawa Mahal and the Jantar Mantar. 200 years ago, the Maharaja built the Hawa Mahal, a delicately, honeycombed, pink sandstone palace so the ladies of his Royal court (his hareem) could watch the daily life and processions of the city without having to go near the dirty dangerous streets. Jai Singh built the Jantar Mantar 80 years before that, to chart the annual progress through the zodiac, predict eclipses and tell the time. The largest sundial in the world is no wrist watch but it is accurate to within 2 seconds!
With a worrying mother at home and not particularly enjoying being sick, away from home in India of all places we decided to book tickets home a week early and made plans to get down to Mumbai pronto. Before such an ordeal though, it was necessary to release any pent up frustratuions and lose our remaining rupees in a days shopping spree that would shame Mahatma Gandhi. Shoes, drums, shawls, wall hangings and jewellery were all snapped up before our final splurge in Jaipur's niftiest restaurant. Yes, it may have cost 10 times the price of a normal meal, but it was still only £10 and we had never tasted Indian food as good. Like Violet from Charlie and the Choclate factory, we rolled out the door into a waiting rickshaw, back to our humble abode, for our last night of hostel sleep.
And so the journey home began, or maybe it began all the way back in Milford Sound, New Zealand. Roughly the half way point in time and also about as far away from home as we will probably ever be, this is where we turned round and began a journey home, hence the name of our silly blog. Still back then we had so much still to look forward to and it was all part of the journey. Now we only had one small journey onboard a train for the next 16 hours before a quick 9 hour flight home where it would all be over. Not much to look forward to this time. Well that's a lie, both of us were keen to see family and friends again, and for Rory, some proper rest and medicine in his own bed probably sounded like heaven come early. However, it was the end of cheap living, buzzing tuk-tuks, perfect tropical beaches, exciting prospects, travellers commaraderie, great exotic food, car journeys longer than 30 minutes, different varieties of cultures and religions, new faces, living out of a back pack and generally doing whatever the hell we wanted to do! It was the end of our holiday and the travelling life that had become the norm to us. We had always known how blessed we were to be doing what we were doing but on the last journey home it sank in a bit that it wasn't going to last forever.
Thankfully our flight back to London had enough entertaining movies to distract us from getting to deep and miserable, but nothing could distract Rory from the powerful gases threatening to destroy everyone in the plane that Ryan was producing. He may not have been ill, but Ryan was certainly not a well boy, something was very very wrong with him! Atleast Rory didn't have to deal with him any longer. At Heathrow airport, we got a last photo, had a quick manly hug/slap on the back type of thing, before Rory checked in for his flight to Dublin and Ryan made his way into the heart of London for one last dollop of tourism with his family.
Seems like that's the end of our stories folks. The blog may be pages too long but in reality it's only a snapshot of what all we've got up since January. On a final note it may only have been Rory admitted to hospital with any medical condition, but both us have picked up another bug, that can't be treated and doesn't go away. God willing it won't be long before we're away again, living our latest dreams and satisfying the travel bug inside.
From Holywood with love,
Your friends,
Rory & Ryan xoxox
Thursday, 28 August 2008
Wednesday, 30 July 2008
Hong Kong and the Himalayas
It feels like ages since we were sitting down with chop sticks with a bowl of rice or noodles infront of us and thats maybe because it has been a month now since we last spilled the beans on our adventures. Infact we only have a month left so high time for another delve into our journeys thus far.
China has left a lasting impression on us and will be a destination that we will not forget. From Beijing we had zig-zagged our way down to Guilin province and were living it up in a tourist hotspot called Yangshuo. It was an great town, even though it was here that Ryan realised he was missing one his credit cards. Still maybe it was the serene setting, the good company, the great menu or just a growing maturity but it bothered him little and interferred minimally with their exploits. The day started with an early morning Tai-Chi class for those who could be bothered to scrape themselves out of bed. After stretching and moving our bodies as slowly as humanly possible, which was actualy quite hard and most of us just looked like uncoordinated fools, we were left to explore the town in whatever way we chose. Some lazed in the calming park, others climbed to the top of a rocky spire where a small temple balanced precariously on top, while others took a kayak down the gently flowing river.
The next day we began a little more energetically, scaling the vertical cliffs of one of the massive rocky outcrops. Rory blasted up the face like spiderman, until that was his wee arms could haul no more, and his wee legs could stretch no further leaving him dangling like a dingleberry. Ryan was no better by the way and is more aware than ever that serious time in a gym is necessary on his return home. Still we are on holidays and trying not to even think of returning to the usual grind of work and staying in one place for more than a few weeks. As soon as we had fallen down the cliff it was yet more sweatiness as we began our cycling ordeal. It was forty minutes out of town to our guest house, The Outside Inn..... where Ryan was rushed off again with his other culinary buddies to learn how to throw together some of the local cuisine. Between cooking amazing food, drinking cold beers in the sun filled garden and then eating amazing food it was a great afternoon and now with a few recipes up his sleeves, how will the ladies resist.... Well maybe if they saw him shaking a dead dog hung by a hook through it's jaw in the local market earlier that day, that may be sufficient to put them off, but to him and the locals, it was no different than picking up a burger. Apart from the hot dogs on sale, the market was bursting with colour as fresh produce covered the floors and tables and included everything from, firey red chillis, sqwuaking hens and ducks, massive watermelon, nets full of frogs, mounds of potatoes, baths writhing with eels and vegetables that baffled all but the most knowledgable of green fingered friends. If only shopping in Tesco or Sainsburys was such an excursion!
Next morning our hardship really began as our bottoms took a battering from the full day onboard our bicycles! To be honest, it was the best way to see the countryside and although Rory had to push his bike through muddy lanes, and Ryan got landed with bicycles that didn't work and tyres that didn't stay inflated, it was a fantastic day. After a few of us climbed to the top of Moonhill to appreciate the most awesome panoramas, we were more than ready to stuff our faces on the local food. The fresh fish baked in local beer was a highlight along with the Eggplant in oyster sauce, why don't we have food like this at home?! After a long day of bum bruising exercise, a dip in a nearby river was much appreciated....even when we got bullied by the local 8 year olds.
From Yangshuo, we enjoyed another ridiculously long train ride down to Hong Kong were we got checked into the YMCA. Trying to be a posh hotel and brush off it's hostel reputation, they didn't appreciate Rory's rendition of The Village People's hit sngle in the middle of th hotel lobby and quickly told him to shut up. Hong Kong turned out to be a great city though. Filled with bars and restaurants, it was a great place to have a farewell party as this was the end of our China tour. Tears were minimal however and maybe this is because for the past 6 months we have done nothing but meet people and then say goodbye to them. We had become cold and heartless, that was until Mr. Jonny Baillie, and his medical friend Catherine Russell, arrived in town inducing tears of joy to flow like rivers. It was so good to see friends from home and we only hope they enjoy their time watching bodies be cut open, all in the name of medicine, sickos. The usual tourist hits of; taking the tram to the top of Victoria Peak to look over the HK skyline, watching the Light Show 3 nights in a row all mingled in with a bit of world renowned shopping and museum wandering kept us busy for a week until it was time to part company. It was time for our travels to return to how they started as Matthew abandonned us early in the morning leaving Rory locked outside for nearly an hour. While Matthew flew home, the two of us along with Mr. and Mrs. Jonny Baillie, took a hydrofoil over to Macao, the Far East's version of Las Vegas. Apparantly raking in more money than it's American casino cousin, the former Portugese colony entertained us for the day before we too had to bail and once again, melt the polar ice-caps as we increased our carbon foot-print aboard yet another plane.
It wasn't long before we were once again sucking in the bizarre Bangkok air as we dandered down the infamous Kaosan road. We had forgotten how much we had enjoyed this city and evidently the thousands of other tourists agreed with us. This time we got to share it all with a few of our friends from the China trip that were beginning their adventure through South East Asia. Much busier than our last visit, we lost ourselves in the surrounding madness and did what all good travellers do, Tattoos and dreadlocks.
Too early next morning it was time for another farewell as Rory and I rode another winged polluting villain all the way to Kolkata, India. Landing in what was more of another world than just another country, India greeted us with what would become the typical struggle of hoardes of hagglers and vehicle horns constantly blasting. After fighting our way into the heart of the city we checked into our hostel and just hid in our beds. After a few hours , we had gathered the bravery to venture into the mass of rickshaws, beggars, crazy drivers and dancing monkeys and tried to visit a few of the sights. Before we knew it, everything was closed and we hadn't seen a bit of it because of poor directions and traffic jams the size of Ireland. The next few days was just more of the same really. The few sights in Kolkata really weren't anything special and the constant hastle got tiring very quickly. Maybe it was because the previous 4 months had been easy travel through NZ, OZ and tour guide China, making us soft, or maybe SE Asia is just easy in comparison, (probably a mix of the two), but we decided not to hang around in Kolkata as we were struggling to enjoy it, and were soon on our way north towards Nepal. Don't be mislead, there were bits that were great, such as "The Mother House" which is where Mother Teresa based most of her amazing work to the poor and destitute. Not only was it a calming place to spend a few hours, but reading through her life's history was humbling and hugely inspiring. The amount of people that follow her zealously, and the amount that believe she has worked miracles in their lives throws up questions, but she was still an unbelievable woman and servant. However, the constant struggle with hagglers, with con artists, with beggars, taxis and rickshaws, with train tickets, lousy internet, pestering kids , dirt and rubbish everywhere, along with the foot deep flood waters, filled with the cities trash, made it hard to enjoy the city as a whole and started the yearning to just go home. We decided to spend the day in Boghdgaya on the way north west to the River Ganges and Varanasi. Bohdgaya was where the Buddha is said to have received his enlightenment, and is one of four extremely holy places according to the Buddhist faith. As much as it was interesting visiting a place like this, it became one of the worst days of our travels to date.
Arriving at 5am, into a dirty fly infested busy train station after only a few poor hours sleep was not the way to start off the day. Outside we were once again hounded by rickshaws all offering hugely bumped up western prices before fighting amongst themselves after we finally haggled them down to a slightly more reasonable price. A long horridly bumpy, horribly squished rickshaw took us to the outskirts of town, from where we had to carry our massive heavy bags to the otherside of town and find somewhere to desposit them for safe keeping. Along the way, 2 boys attached themselves to us claiming to help us around town and show us the sights for no money. Wise to this after 6 months on the road we did our best to get rid of them but in the end had to pay them to just leave us alone! We also soon found out that the bus we were told would take us onwards to Varanasi later that day was no longer running, meaning we would have to make our way back up to the train station, fingers crossed that there would be a train at the end of it, going our direction. Doing our best to enjoy the day we took a look round the most impressive of the temples that stood on the sight and included the tree where Buddha is believed to have sat under for 40 days waiting for enlightenment. Not really that impressed and brushing off yet more hagglers we decided to not bother visiting the other smaller temples and just get back on the road up to Varanasi. On our way up to the train station, Ryan managed to lose our copy of the lonely planet, leaving us mapless and without almost essential advice. We admire the pioneer travellers who did it all without guide book assistance, they're hard core! At the train station, Ryan then committed the cardinal sin of flashing his flashy camera to all those waiting for the train. Included in the medley scrambling for and brawling to get onto the train was a little old woman and a would-be-thief. While Ryan was helping the little old lady onto the train, someone else (guess who) was helping themselves to Ryan's flashy flashing machine carelessly left in his pocket...not cool. It was a minute or 2 before the little old lady was comfortably seated and Ryan had also got seated before he noticed his loss. Realising exactly what had happened, he nearly tore chunks of hair out and frantically searched the platform and train for anyone with a guilty look or bulging pocket. In desperation he even checked under the train hoping that it had somehow just fallen out or something else as innocent. Our bad luck didn't end their either. While fuming about the loss and joking about the misery of our day, the ticket man appeared demanding more money off us, effectively tripling the price of our tickets as we had apparantly sat in the wrong seats!
Arriving in Varanasi, Rory had thankfully already consulted our tour guide in book form before we lost it, and picked out the "Shaanti Guest House" for us to hide in over the next couple of days and wallow in our misery. Name aside, and despite the fact it was a building site, it turned out wonderful and we were able to drink to the worst day of our journey, and feast our way out of misery. It was also here that we made some friends from all over the world, one of which would end up spending the next week or so with us as we travelled through Nepal. Varanasi was another amzingly interesting city. Built on the "holy" River Ganges, Hindus mass here to cremate their loved ones and surrender their ashes to the "holy" water. A few facts on the water, that our good friend, the late lonely planet fascinated us with. Said to be purifying and holy, Hindus and locals wash clothes, bathe, swim and cremate loved ones here, as well as transport goods along the length of it's world famous ghats. Well far from being purifying, it's not even as clean as your bath water, infact not even close. Due to the numerous sewage pipes that drain into the river, amongst where people swim and wash, the water has become sceptic and actualy has 0% dissolved oxygen in the water. Nothing lives there. While suitable bathwater is meant to have 500 particles of poo per 100g water, the "life giving" River Ganges is able to hide 1.5 million of the little blighters in the same amount!!! Infact after merely touching the water with his lips, not drinking any of it, a friend of a friend was bed ridden for a week with serious vomitting and diarohea, although in his state of high fever he was completely oblivious, depending on his good friends to wash, care, feed him and change his frequently soiled bed sheets! Needless to say we didn't join the kids diving into the water and racing the length of the ghats. We did though watch the cremation services and tip-toe past the numerous bodies lining the narrow alleys waiting their turn to finish this life and begin a new one. Apart from being hastled and somewhat cornered for our money we learnt that it would help pay for the exuberant cost of the funerals for those who couldn't afford it. Depending on one's caste, (like heirarchy) and social standing, different woods would be used to burn the bodies. The most expensive of timbers was the sweet smelling sandal wood that was piled up just a few meters from our guest house overlooking the river. The money badgered off rich white people was used to pay for this wood or cheaper options for those elderly people that were lying next door to our guest house simply waiting to die. Like I said, an immensely interesting if shocking place but it could also be horrificly annoying. Trying to get tickets sorted for a train to the Nepalese border and get a police report for his stolen camera, Ryan ventured out on a mission he told Rory would only take him a few hours, giving himself plenty of time for the expected hastles and inevitable set-backs. However he was not prepared for Indian set-backs and after waiting in queues, hundreds of people long, only for the computers to crash when he was at the front, not once, but twice, and then negotiate for a poorly worded, probably useless police report, it had long since turned dark. Keen to get back knowing Rory was waiting, and worrying himself about making his way through the maze of tangled, unlit alleys that makes up Varanasi's old town he jumped into the nearest rickshaw and wet himself in fear on the bumpy roads back. After being dropped off a million miles away from where he was expecting, thankfully what must have been the only kind person in India showed him the way home, not even expecting a tip. On returning Rory breathed a heavy sigh of relief and was able to forget his feelings of guilt for letting Ryan disappear off alone down the dangerous streets and both of us agreed not to try it again. Still it all ended well, lessons were learnt and we were soon on the road again, destination Nepal.
Vallory, our heavily tattooed Californian friend, joined us and after maybe 30 hours of trains, rickshaws and ridiculously dangerous, overcrowded night-time Nepali buses, we arrived safely, if somewhat shattered in the tourist haven, Pokhara. It also happened to be the 19th July, and for those of you in the know, that means Rory's 20th birthday. As well as celebrating that, we also celebrated and give thanks that we had escaped the mad world of India and somehow once again landed in a world a million miles away, completely different, totally relaxed and somewhere we knew we would enjoy much more. I feel I have painted an awfully harsh picture of India, but that's what it is, HARSH. Still though, it's a place that we have a strong love hate relationship with, loving the culture, food, sights but hating the hastles and the feeling that we are constantly being measured up to see how much money we can be separated from. Nepal on the otherhand, even just after one day had totally relaxed us and we were already thinking of extending our visas.
The next few days were spent dandering and organising our trek into the worlds largest and most famous range of dominating spires and twisted rocks, thrust up by colliding continental plates and more commonly known as, the Himalayas. For 4 days Bhimsen our guide (that we highly recommend!!) lead us through the Annapurna Range, just North of Pokhara. We climbed to 3210m to the top of Poon Hill at 5.30am one morning to view the colossal mountains surrounding us that had remained to this point hidden, under a blanket of monsoon season cloud. It was on day 4, that Rory was crippled with a nasty fever causing us to cut the day short and spend the night hoping he would recover enough so that we could get him off the mountains. While Rory was tucked up shivering in bed with a nice fever, Ryan plied him with pills and took good care of him, (you can thank him later Mrs. Eves) before sitting down with the local farmers over a bowl full of Yak guts and Rokshi, local rice wine, both of which were surprisingly good. The following morning Rory was still semi-comatosed and unable to carry himself off the mountains. Desperate for a steed but unable to afford the local donkeys, it was left up to Bhimsen, 51, with a bad knee and walking barefoot (on his own accord) and Ryan, a lanky streak of ****, terribly unfit after doing no exercise in the 2 last years, and famous for his lack of muscles, to carry Rory, 70kgs of sweaty sickly laziness, 2-3 hours up a steep mountainon their backs, before he miraculously found the strength to walk himself back down a gentle valley. Sound fishy to anyone else??? He did well to be fair to the wee lad and for the next few days he was forced, although it didn't take much enforcement, to do nothing but lie in bed, read more absurd novels by John Grisham and watch hours of pirated DVDs. His form of paradise really so he was more than happy.
It was from Pokhara that we made our most recent leg of travel, 7 hours on a safer, still not safe, tourist bus all the way to Kathmandu. Here, Joe and Janet Campbell, friends from 1st Holywood Presby, have kindly and selflessly given us beds, shelter and food as well as shown us around UMN, the agency for which they work and advised us on all the good bits to see in Kathmandu, the capital of Nepal, and the only real city in the country of 25 million people. Different to sleepy, tourist happy Pokhara, but still miles apart from the madness that lies ahead of us in India, Kathmandu is full of history, noisy motorbikes and of course the temples with erotic carvings. Apparantly there to encourage the public to reproduce in order to increase the population, years ago during the reign of the Malla Kings, the temples are today surrounded by, shocked, intrigued giggling tourists. We have just been ripped off getting our visas extended, giving us another 2 weeks to explore this amazing city and country. Whether we remain here with the friendly locals, enjoying Joe and Janets company and superb hospitality, we do not know. For that answer you will have to wait and see for our next, probably penultimate blog.
Until then, massive love, hugs and kisses
PS. less than 4 weeks until we're back. Get them BBQ's ready!
China has left a lasting impression on us and will be a destination that we will not forget. From Beijing we had zig-zagged our way down to Guilin province and were living it up in a tourist hotspot called Yangshuo. It was an great town, even though it was here that Ryan realised he was missing one his credit cards. Still maybe it was the serene setting, the good company, the great menu or just a growing maturity but it bothered him little and interferred minimally with their exploits. The day started with an early morning Tai-Chi class for those who could be bothered to scrape themselves out of bed. After stretching and moving our bodies as slowly as humanly possible, which was actualy quite hard and most of us just looked like uncoordinated fools, we were left to explore the town in whatever way we chose. Some lazed in the calming park, others climbed to the top of a rocky spire where a small temple balanced precariously on top, while others took a kayak down the gently flowing river.
The next day we began a little more energetically, scaling the vertical cliffs of one of the massive rocky outcrops. Rory blasted up the face like spiderman, until that was his wee arms could haul no more, and his wee legs could stretch no further leaving him dangling like a dingleberry. Ryan was no better by the way and is more aware than ever that serious time in a gym is necessary on his return home. Still we are on holidays and trying not to even think of returning to the usual grind of work and staying in one place for more than a few weeks. As soon as we had fallen down the cliff it was yet more sweatiness as we began our cycling ordeal. It was forty minutes out of town to our guest house, The Outside Inn..... where Ryan was rushed off again with his other culinary buddies to learn how to throw together some of the local cuisine. Between cooking amazing food, drinking cold beers in the sun filled garden and then eating amazing food it was a great afternoon and now with a few recipes up his sleeves, how will the ladies resist.... Well maybe if they saw him shaking a dead dog hung by a hook through it's jaw in the local market earlier that day, that may be sufficient to put them off, but to him and the locals, it was no different than picking up a burger. Apart from the hot dogs on sale, the market was bursting with colour as fresh produce covered the floors and tables and included everything from, firey red chillis, sqwuaking hens and ducks, massive watermelon, nets full of frogs, mounds of potatoes, baths writhing with eels and vegetables that baffled all but the most knowledgable of green fingered friends. If only shopping in Tesco or Sainsburys was such an excursion!
Next morning our hardship really began as our bottoms took a battering from the full day onboard our bicycles! To be honest, it was the best way to see the countryside and although Rory had to push his bike through muddy lanes, and Ryan got landed with bicycles that didn't work and tyres that didn't stay inflated, it was a fantastic day. After a few of us climbed to the top of Moonhill to appreciate the most awesome panoramas, we were more than ready to stuff our faces on the local food. The fresh fish baked in local beer was a highlight along with the Eggplant in oyster sauce, why don't we have food like this at home?! After a long day of bum bruising exercise, a dip in a nearby river was much appreciated....even when we got bullied by the local 8 year olds.
From Yangshuo, we enjoyed another ridiculously long train ride down to Hong Kong were we got checked into the YMCA. Trying to be a posh hotel and brush off it's hostel reputation, they didn't appreciate Rory's rendition of The Village People's hit sngle in the middle of th hotel lobby and quickly told him to shut up. Hong Kong turned out to be a great city though. Filled with bars and restaurants, it was a great place to have a farewell party as this was the end of our China tour. Tears were minimal however and maybe this is because for the past 6 months we have done nothing but meet people and then say goodbye to them. We had become cold and heartless, that was until Mr. Jonny Baillie, and his medical friend Catherine Russell, arrived in town inducing tears of joy to flow like rivers. It was so good to see friends from home and we only hope they enjoy their time watching bodies be cut open, all in the name of medicine, sickos. The usual tourist hits of; taking the tram to the top of Victoria Peak to look over the HK skyline, watching the Light Show 3 nights in a row all mingled in with a bit of world renowned shopping and museum wandering kept us busy for a week until it was time to part company. It was time for our travels to return to how they started as Matthew abandonned us early in the morning leaving Rory locked outside for nearly an hour. While Matthew flew home, the two of us along with Mr. and Mrs. Jonny Baillie, took a hydrofoil over to Macao, the Far East's version of Las Vegas. Apparantly raking in more money than it's American casino cousin, the former Portugese colony entertained us for the day before we too had to bail and once again, melt the polar ice-caps as we increased our carbon foot-print aboard yet another plane.
It wasn't long before we were once again sucking in the bizarre Bangkok air as we dandered down the infamous Kaosan road. We had forgotten how much we had enjoyed this city and evidently the thousands of other tourists agreed with us. This time we got to share it all with a few of our friends from the China trip that were beginning their adventure through South East Asia. Much busier than our last visit, we lost ourselves in the surrounding madness and did what all good travellers do, Tattoos and dreadlocks.
Too early next morning it was time for another farewell as Rory and I rode another winged polluting villain all the way to Kolkata, India. Landing in what was more of another world than just another country, India greeted us with what would become the typical struggle of hoardes of hagglers and vehicle horns constantly blasting. After fighting our way into the heart of the city we checked into our hostel and just hid in our beds. After a few hours , we had gathered the bravery to venture into the mass of rickshaws, beggars, crazy drivers and dancing monkeys and tried to visit a few of the sights. Before we knew it, everything was closed and we hadn't seen a bit of it because of poor directions and traffic jams the size of Ireland. The next few days was just more of the same really. The few sights in Kolkata really weren't anything special and the constant hastle got tiring very quickly. Maybe it was because the previous 4 months had been easy travel through NZ, OZ and tour guide China, making us soft, or maybe SE Asia is just easy in comparison, (probably a mix of the two), but we decided not to hang around in Kolkata as we were struggling to enjoy it, and were soon on our way north towards Nepal. Don't be mislead, there were bits that were great, such as "The Mother House" which is where Mother Teresa based most of her amazing work to the poor and destitute. Not only was it a calming place to spend a few hours, but reading through her life's history was humbling and hugely inspiring. The amount of people that follow her zealously, and the amount that believe she has worked miracles in their lives throws up questions, but she was still an unbelievable woman and servant. However, the constant struggle with hagglers, with con artists, with beggars, taxis and rickshaws, with train tickets, lousy internet, pestering kids , dirt and rubbish everywhere, along with the foot deep flood waters, filled with the cities trash, made it hard to enjoy the city as a whole and started the yearning to just go home. We decided to spend the day in Boghdgaya on the way north west to the River Ganges and Varanasi. Bohdgaya was where the Buddha is said to have received his enlightenment, and is one of four extremely holy places according to the Buddhist faith. As much as it was interesting visiting a place like this, it became one of the worst days of our travels to date.
Arriving at 5am, into a dirty fly infested busy train station after only a few poor hours sleep was not the way to start off the day. Outside we were once again hounded by rickshaws all offering hugely bumped up western prices before fighting amongst themselves after we finally haggled them down to a slightly more reasonable price. A long horridly bumpy, horribly squished rickshaw took us to the outskirts of town, from where we had to carry our massive heavy bags to the otherside of town and find somewhere to desposit them for safe keeping. Along the way, 2 boys attached themselves to us claiming to help us around town and show us the sights for no money. Wise to this after 6 months on the road we did our best to get rid of them but in the end had to pay them to just leave us alone! We also soon found out that the bus we were told would take us onwards to Varanasi later that day was no longer running, meaning we would have to make our way back up to the train station, fingers crossed that there would be a train at the end of it, going our direction. Doing our best to enjoy the day we took a look round the most impressive of the temples that stood on the sight and included the tree where Buddha is believed to have sat under for 40 days waiting for enlightenment. Not really that impressed and brushing off yet more hagglers we decided to not bother visiting the other smaller temples and just get back on the road up to Varanasi. On our way up to the train station, Ryan managed to lose our copy of the lonely planet, leaving us mapless and without almost essential advice. We admire the pioneer travellers who did it all without guide book assistance, they're hard core! At the train station, Ryan then committed the cardinal sin of flashing his flashy camera to all those waiting for the train. Included in the medley scrambling for and brawling to get onto the train was a little old woman and a would-be-thief. While Ryan was helping the little old lady onto the train, someone else (guess who) was helping themselves to Ryan's flashy flashing machine carelessly left in his pocket...not cool. It was a minute or 2 before the little old lady was comfortably seated and Ryan had also got seated before he noticed his loss. Realising exactly what had happened, he nearly tore chunks of hair out and frantically searched the platform and train for anyone with a guilty look or bulging pocket. In desperation he even checked under the train hoping that it had somehow just fallen out or something else as innocent. Our bad luck didn't end their either. While fuming about the loss and joking about the misery of our day, the ticket man appeared demanding more money off us, effectively tripling the price of our tickets as we had apparantly sat in the wrong seats!
Arriving in Varanasi, Rory had thankfully already consulted our tour guide in book form before we lost it, and picked out the "Shaanti Guest House" for us to hide in over the next couple of days and wallow in our misery. Name aside, and despite the fact it was a building site, it turned out wonderful and we were able to drink to the worst day of our journey, and feast our way out of misery. It was also here that we made some friends from all over the world, one of which would end up spending the next week or so with us as we travelled through Nepal. Varanasi was another amzingly interesting city. Built on the "holy" River Ganges, Hindus mass here to cremate their loved ones and surrender their ashes to the "holy" water. A few facts on the water, that our good friend, the late lonely planet fascinated us with. Said to be purifying and holy, Hindus and locals wash clothes, bathe, swim and cremate loved ones here, as well as transport goods along the length of it's world famous ghats. Well far from being purifying, it's not even as clean as your bath water, infact not even close. Due to the numerous sewage pipes that drain into the river, amongst where people swim and wash, the water has become sceptic and actualy has 0% dissolved oxygen in the water. Nothing lives there. While suitable bathwater is meant to have 500 particles of poo per 100g water, the "life giving" River Ganges is able to hide 1.5 million of the little blighters in the same amount!!! Infact after merely touching the water with his lips, not drinking any of it, a friend of a friend was bed ridden for a week with serious vomitting and diarohea, although in his state of high fever he was completely oblivious, depending on his good friends to wash, care, feed him and change his frequently soiled bed sheets! Needless to say we didn't join the kids diving into the water and racing the length of the ghats. We did though watch the cremation services and tip-toe past the numerous bodies lining the narrow alleys waiting their turn to finish this life and begin a new one. Apart from being hastled and somewhat cornered for our money we learnt that it would help pay for the exuberant cost of the funerals for those who couldn't afford it. Depending on one's caste, (like heirarchy) and social standing, different woods would be used to burn the bodies. The most expensive of timbers was the sweet smelling sandal wood that was piled up just a few meters from our guest house overlooking the river. The money badgered off rich white people was used to pay for this wood or cheaper options for those elderly people that were lying next door to our guest house simply waiting to die. Like I said, an immensely interesting if shocking place but it could also be horrificly annoying. Trying to get tickets sorted for a train to the Nepalese border and get a police report for his stolen camera, Ryan ventured out on a mission he told Rory would only take him a few hours, giving himself plenty of time for the expected hastles and inevitable set-backs. However he was not prepared for Indian set-backs and after waiting in queues, hundreds of people long, only for the computers to crash when he was at the front, not once, but twice, and then negotiate for a poorly worded, probably useless police report, it had long since turned dark. Keen to get back knowing Rory was waiting, and worrying himself about making his way through the maze of tangled, unlit alleys that makes up Varanasi's old town he jumped into the nearest rickshaw and wet himself in fear on the bumpy roads back. After being dropped off a million miles away from where he was expecting, thankfully what must have been the only kind person in India showed him the way home, not even expecting a tip. On returning Rory breathed a heavy sigh of relief and was able to forget his feelings of guilt for letting Ryan disappear off alone down the dangerous streets and both of us agreed not to try it again. Still it all ended well, lessons were learnt and we were soon on the road again, destination Nepal.
Vallory, our heavily tattooed Californian friend, joined us and after maybe 30 hours of trains, rickshaws and ridiculously dangerous, overcrowded night-time Nepali buses, we arrived safely, if somewhat shattered in the tourist haven, Pokhara. It also happened to be the 19th July, and for those of you in the know, that means Rory's 20th birthday. As well as celebrating that, we also celebrated and give thanks that we had escaped the mad world of India and somehow once again landed in a world a million miles away, completely different, totally relaxed and somewhere we knew we would enjoy much more. I feel I have painted an awfully harsh picture of India, but that's what it is, HARSH. Still though, it's a place that we have a strong love hate relationship with, loving the culture, food, sights but hating the hastles and the feeling that we are constantly being measured up to see how much money we can be separated from. Nepal on the otherhand, even just after one day had totally relaxed us and we were already thinking of extending our visas.
The next few days were spent dandering and organising our trek into the worlds largest and most famous range of dominating spires and twisted rocks, thrust up by colliding continental plates and more commonly known as, the Himalayas. For 4 days Bhimsen our guide (that we highly recommend!!) lead us through the Annapurna Range, just North of Pokhara. We climbed to 3210m to the top of Poon Hill at 5.30am one morning to view the colossal mountains surrounding us that had remained to this point hidden, under a blanket of monsoon season cloud. It was on day 4, that Rory was crippled with a nasty fever causing us to cut the day short and spend the night hoping he would recover enough so that we could get him off the mountains. While Rory was tucked up shivering in bed with a nice fever, Ryan plied him with pills and took good care of him, (you can thank him later Mrs. Eves) before sitting down with the local farmers over a bowl full of Yak guts and Rokshi, local rice wine, both of which were surprisingly good. The following morning Rory was still semi-comatosed and unable to carry himself off the mountains. Desperate for a steed but unable to afford the local donkeys, it was left up to Bhimsen, 51, with a bad knee and walking barefoot (on his own accord) and Ryan, a lanky streak of ****, terribly unfit after doing no exercise in the 2 last years, and famous for his lack of muscles, to carry Rory, 70kgs of sweaty sickly laziness, 2-3 hours up a steep mountainon their backs, before he miraculously found the strength to walk himself back down a gentle valley. Sound fishy to anyone else??? He did well to be fair to the wee lad and for the next few days he was forced, although it didn't take much enforcement, to do nothing but lie in bed, read more absurd novels by John Grisham and watch hours of pirated DVDs. His form of paradise really so he was more than happy.
It was from Pokhara that we made our most recent leg of travel, 7 hours on a safer, still not safe, tourist bus all the way to Kathmandu. Here, Joe and Janet Campbell, friends from 1st Holywood Presby, have kindly and selflessly given us beds, shelter and food as well as shown us around UMN, the agency for which they work and advised us on all the good bits to see in Kathmandu, the capital of Nepal, and the only real city in the country of 25 million people. Different to sleepy, tourist happy Pokhara, but still miles apart from the madness that lies ahead of us in India, Kathmandu is full of history, noisy motorbikes and of course the temples with erotic carvings. Apparantly there to encourage the public to reproduce in order to increase the population, years ago during the reign of the Malla Kings, the temples are today surrounded by, shocked, intrigued giggling tourists. We have just been ripped off getting our visas extended, giving us another 2 weeks to explore this amazing city and country. Whether we remain here with the friendly locals, enjoying Joe and Janets company and superb hospitality, we do not know. For that answer you will have to wait and see for our next, probably penultimate blog.
Until then, massive love, hugs and kisses
PS. less than 4 weeks until we're back. Get them BBQ's ready!
Monday, 30 June 2008
Sweet and sour chicken, with fwied wice, chips and prawn crackers please
Nihao, pronounced "nee-how" from the Peoples Republic of China. It's a good job I have been able to get on this site as internet is so tightly censored that most chinese have never seen the infamous pictures of Tian'namen Square!
What can we say, except what a country. Honestly, in the last 2 weeks, China has done nothing but knock us out with it's beauty, scare us with it's crazy driving, stuff us with it's cheap food and drink, dumb-found us with it's sheer enormity and surprise us with it's amazing culture. The scenery and sights rival those of NZ and Bangkok and the culture is something of a shock, even after 5 months on the road to date.
Our arrival to China couldn't have been better. After Ryan was kept plied with food, drink and lots of leg room on our 13 hour flight from Sydney to Beijing，we arrived at a huge colosseum of an airport and were promptly whisked away to our hotel, NOT hostel, in the centre of Beijing. The next day was spent ambling round the ancient Forbidden city, home to the Emperors of the Ming and Qing dynasty. This is a city within one of the biggest cities in the world. Not even dear old Buckingham Palace, the infamous White House, the serene Palace of Versailles or even our very own Stormont, has a notch on this place and it was obviously the ultimate of bachelor pads, especially hundreds of years ago when it was first built. Lawrence Llewely-Bowen should visit here and learn what real interior design is as the throne alone was bigger than our house! What to do after an experience like this? Well most seemed not to disappointed to watch Ryan dance infront of a restaurant full of Chinese families, with some exotic belly dancer and a ruddy great big snake round his neck! Not cool, and for poor wee Ryan nor was it good entertainment! Worst of all, this was the first time we got to meet our group that we would be spending the next 3 weeks with and first impressions count. Needless to say, Ryan hasn't been able to shrug of his pansy reputation and our new columbian friend Carlos, immediately offered some dance lessons! Back to Beijing. We spent another few days wandering around the Summer Palace that was another of those examples of pure, unadulterated, expressions of wealth, grandeur and beauty that has yet to be repeated by our tight wallets and health and safety ruined modern age. Although we explored for hours and maybe wandered around half of the palace, we saw only very little of the traditional architecture and beautiful gardens, because of the lung cancer inducing and eye-scratchingly bad smog that threatens to prevent the likes of Australia sending it's Olympic athletes to the games in little over a month away, in fear that they will all keel over, mid-race due to tar filled lungs! Really they're not joking, it's that bad. So bad infact that they plan to set of a bomb way up in the sky to encourage a great big massive thunder storm to literally wash out all the nasties from the black and grey stained sky.
A few quick facts. N.I. has a rough population of 1.6 million, R.O.I, 4 million, U.K. 60 million or there abouts and some of it can be quite cluttered. London for instance, sits pretty at roughly 11 million, and people are reduced to driving smart cars and bicycles as there is no room for anything bigger than a tin of spam. Beijing though is a mammoth sized sprawl, hiding about 17 million people under it's smokey blanket and the thousands of homeless are being "removed" from the city in time for the Olympics to somewhere else. Although China is massive, where do you put them? There are 1.3 billion people cluttering the land and another 300 million that are not "on the books". In order to control the population explosion, China has a one child policy, so that if you have more than one child you are punished with a large fine. For those less fortunate families who cannot afford to pay the fine, their child is not registered and therefore left with no identity, no passport, no school, no possibility of a decent job and no health care. NO FUTURE.... There are an estimated 300 million of these people, thats about 5 times the population of the whole UK (for those who are not close to a calculator), and Lisburn is being called a city?! Not only do we feel insignificant but also so fortunate to be raised in a country free of the problems that China faces. We do not mean to insult the Chinese government or condone all their practises, for within the last year China has faced more catastrophes than potatoes eaten in Ireland, and the government seems to be acting accordingly, or atleast that's how our guide feels alongs with the rest of his countrymen, apparantly. In January, China was crippled with heavy snows, then there was the Tibet crisis, then the earthquakes, then the floods in the south and most recently a Tsunami I have been told although some may have been lost in translation. Still the people are happy and resilient, and either not aware of how much their government censors or simply not worried. How much does our own government do the same which we are simply oblivious to? So the next time it rains at home, put on a coat and get on with things. The next time it snows, defrost your windscreen and go to work. If we ever happen to enjoy a bit of sun, put on some clothes and don't complain of sunstroke after lying about all day in the sun with little more than a napkin protecting your delicate pasty white irish skin and most importantly your dignity. And we thought we were built tough in Ireland!
So to the Great Wall then. This is without doubt, the ultimate of Chinese symbols, displaying their past greatness and fuelling a new future for China along side it's world dominating, "Made in China" industry, from the wallets of it's ever increasing tourist industry. It's also the ultimate photograph and the ultimate of memories. Ranks up there so far with the temples of Bangkok, Islands of Malaysia and scenery of New Zealand. A scorcher of a day, we were left as tired as I was after just finishing my thoughts in that last paragraph, after clambering up, down and around a wall that is in some places towering 30m into the blue yonder, and in other places no more than a pile of rubble on a remote hillside. Something like 16,000 kms long, it's pretty darn big. We don't have time to look up another comparison, but we're sure you're all perfectly capable yourselves. (Send interesting comparisons this way please!) Even more impressive, are the 70 year old ladies that make their money aiding the hoardes of tourists by supplying them with ice-cold water and even carrying them up the worst sections on their bent and crooked old backs. Loughview Fold better watch out, Ryan is expecting a lot from them on his return! Our hotel for the night was once again far too nice for the likes of us with air-con, TV, double bed for Rory and a restaurant overlooking a mill pond still reservoir that reflects a soaring mountain ridge, crowned along it's length by the Great Wall itself! Not too shabby ehh?
Unfortunately our bed the next night wasn't quite as luxurious. A little bit more like what we were used to, we were squeezed into a sleeper train with countless others, using toilets that that were little more than a hole in the ground. Ahhhh that's better........ 13 hours later we arrived in Xi'an, or commonly known as the "Evil city" due to the frequent robberys that take place in this, the ancient walled capital city of China. Before we visited the the warriors that put this city on the tourist trail, we had a day or 2 to cycle the walls, get lost in it's markets and trudge up one of the 5 holy Taoist mountains to celebrate Ryan's birthday. 2 kms of steps were near vertical at times, encouraging not so charming amounts of sweat and scaring off hundreds of other tourists that bought their medals at the top after taking the strenuous and energetic cable car to the top! No wonder they didn't look like and stink like we did. Ryan celebrated his birthday in suitable style sucking the brains out of a chicken head like Rory had enjoyed the previous night. Chicken feet were equally as interesting although more useful as a tooth pick as you could find more eating on a cat-walk model. Still the next day it was time to experience another of Chinas trademark tourist hotspots and one of the worlds finest tombs. Built near 200 BC, 6000 life-sized, unique, terracotta painted warriors, line up like their human models did in time of war, in a pit the size of a football pitch. This is only one of 13 pits found so far and the pyramid shaped tomb next door is reportedly the largest in the world. Walking through a working excavation sight like that with thousands of other overwhelmed holiday snappers was quite surreal but also incredibly exciting.
From Xi'an it was another 16 hour train to the colonial style metropolis of Shanghai. 3 days here allowed us to be hounded by countless hawkers, desperate to sell their fake Gucci bags, Breitling watches and Armani wallets. By the time they had all hounded us sufficiently, we hadn't much time left to explore such sights as the quaint old town, complete with oldest tea house in China, Alan Titchmarshes heaven on earth; the Yuyuan Gardens, the ridiculous Oriental Pearl Telecommunications Tower, and Shanghai's most expensive beer and ice-cream, 87 stories on top of the Jin-Mao Tower. Other highlights include escaping tropical rainfall by jumping aboard a bus bound for who knows where, holding our breath as kids defied physics as part of the Shanghai Acrobats, and enjoyed the most typical of Chinese past-times, Karaokee. Frank, our guide for the trip, found what he himself describes as "a 5 star karaokee club" with "100%guaranteed enjoyment" for Kathryn's 19th birthday. Even those toatlly against the thought of making such a fool of themselves, joined in and while Matthew professionally executed songs such as Frank Sinatra's Mr. Bo-jangles, the rest crippled our throats, bruised our dancing feet and crucified songs such as Wannabee, In the Navy, and Senorita. A particular favourite amongst the crowds and cheering fans was a rendition of You Raise Me Up, by Westlife performed by none other than the 3 silly Irish blokes with croaky throats and choreographed dance moves. EMI music doesn't seem to have received their demo recording as yet, but when they do, it's obvious those boys are destined for greatness the likes only The Pogues and The Proclaimers have ever tasted!
A 24 hour train journey was plenty of time to rest and recouperate our bleeding ears and tattered throats. It also happened to deposit us in our current location of Yangshuo, Guilin. A Cathedral of granite/dolomite spikes it is a geographers dream and our home for the next 2 days. Activities such as Kungfu, Tai-Chi, rock-climbing and cooking are all on the cards so our next post should be equally filled with such rubbish and tales of woe as this one. Hope it will keep you all happy for a wee while anyway. Only 2 months of this silly blog rubbish, so we'll do our best to finish it all off in style!
Mie Amigos, au revoir.
xo
What can we say, except what a country. Honestly, in the last 2 weeks, China has done nothing but knock us out with it's beauty, scare us with it's crazy driving, stuff us with it's cheap food and drink, dumb-found us with it's sheer enormity and surprise us with it's amazing culture. The scenery and sights rival those of NZ and Bangkok and the culture is something of a shock, even after 5 months on the road to date.
Our arrival to China couldn't have been better. After Ryan was kept plied with food, drink and lots of leg room on our 13 hour flight from Sydney to Beijing，we arrived at a huge colosseum of an airport and were promptly whisked away to our hotel, NOT hostel, in the centre of Beijing. The next day was spent ambling round the ancient Forbidden city, home to the Emperors of the Ming and Qing dynasty. This is a city within one of the biggest cities in the world. Not even dear old Buckingham Palace, the infamous White House, the serene Palace of Versailles or even our very own Stormont, has a notch on this place and it was obviously the ultimate of bachelor pads, especially hundreds of years ago when it was first built. Lawrence Llewely-Bowen should visit here and learn what real interior design is as the throne alone was bigger than our house! What to do after an experience like this? Well most seemed not to disappointed to watch Ryan dance infront of a restaurant full of Chinese families, with some exotic belly dancer and a ruddy great big snake round his neck! Not cool, and for poor wee Ryan nor was it good entertainment! Worst of all, this was the first time we got to meet our group that we would be spending the next 3 weeks with and first impressions count. Needless to say, Ryan hasn't been able to shrug of his pansy reputation and our new columbian friend Carlos, immediately offered some dance lessons! Back to Beijing. We spent another few days wandering around the Summer Palace that was another of those examples of pure, unadulterated, expressions of wealth, grandeur and beauty that has yet to be repeated by our tight wallets and health and safety ruined modern age. Although we explored for hours and maybe wandered around half of the palace, we saw only very little of the traditional architecture and beautiful gardens, because of the lung cancer inducing and eye-scratchingly bad smog that threatens to prevent the likes of Australia sending it's Olympic athletes to the games in little over a month away, in fear that they will all keel over, mid-race due to tar filled lungs! Really they're not joking, it's that bad. So bad infact that they plan to set of a bomb way up in the sky to encourage a great big massive thunder storm to literally wash out all the nasties from the black and grey stained sky.
A few quick facts. N.I. has a rough population of 1.6 million, R.O.I, 4 million, U.K. 60 million or there abouts and some of it can be quite cluttered. London for instance, sits pretty at roughly 11 million, and people are reduced to driving smart cars and bicycles as there is no room for anything bigger than a tin of spam. Beijing though is a mammoth sized sprawl, hiding about 17 million people under it's smokey blanket and the thousands of homeless are being "removed" from the city in time for the Olympics to somewhere else. Although China is massive, where do you put them? There are 1.3 billion people cluttering the land and another 300 million that are not "on the books". In order to control the population explosion, China has a one child policy, so that if you have more than one child you are punished with a large fine. For those less fortunate families who cannot afford to pay the fine, their child is not registered and therefore left with no identity, no passport, no school, no possibility of a decent job and no health care. NO FUTURE.... There are an estimated 300 million of these people, thats about 5 times the population of the whole UK (for those who are not close to a calculator), and Lisburn is being called a city?! Not only do we feel insignificant but also so fortunate to be raised in a country free of the problems that China faces. We do not mean to insult the Chinese government or condone all their practises, for within the last year China has faced more catastrophes than potatoes eaten in Ireland, and the government seems to be acting accordingly, or atleast that's how our guide feels alongs with the rest of his countrymen, apparantly. In January, China was crippled with heavy snows, then there was the Tibet crisis, then the earthquakes, then the floods in the south and most recently a Tsunami I have been told although some may have been lost in translation. Still the people are happy and resilient, and either not aware of how much their government censors or simply not worried. How much does our own government do the same which we are simply oblivious to? So the next time it rains at home, put on a coat and get on with things. The next time it snows, defrost your windscreen and go to work. If we ever happen to enjoy a bit of sun, put on some clothes and don't complain of sunstroke after lying about all day in the sun with little more than a napkin protecting your delicate pasty white irish skin and most importantly your dignity. And we thought we were built tough in Ireland!
So to the Great Wall then. This is without doubt, the ultimate of Chinese symbols, displaying their past greatness and fuelling a new future for China along side it's world dominating, "Made in China" industry, from the wallets of it's ever increasing tourist industry. It's also the ultimate photograph and the ultimate of memories. Ranks up there so far with the temples of Bangkok, Islands of Malaysia and scenery of New Zealand. A scorcher of a day, we were left as tired as I was after just finishing my thoughts in that last paragraph, after clambering up, down and around a wall that is in some places towering 30m into the blue yonder, and in other places no more than a pile of rubble on a remote hillside. Something like 16,000 kms long, it's pretty darn big. We don't have time to look up another comparison, but we're sure you're all perfectly capable yourselves. (Send interesting comparisons this way please!) Even more impressive, are the 70 year old ladies that make their money aiding the hoardes of tourists by supplying them with ice-cold water and even carrying them up the worst sections on their bent and crooked old backs. Loughview Fold better watch out, Ryan is expecting a lot from them on his return! Our hotel for the night was once again far too nice for the likes of us with air-con, TV, double bed for Rory and a restaurant overlooking a mill pond still reservoir that reflects a soaring mountain ridge, crowned along it's length by the Great Wall itself! Not too shabby ehh?
Unfortunately our bed the next night wasn't quite as luxurious. A little bit more like what we were used to, we were squeezed into a sleeper train with countless others, using toilets that that were little more than a hole in the ground. Ahhhh that's better........ 13 hours later we arrived in Xi'an, or commonly known as the "Evil city" due to the frequent robberys that take place in this, the ancient walled capital city of China. Before we visited the the warriors that put this city on the tourist trail, we had a day or 2 to cycle the walls, get lost in it's markets and trudge up one of the 5 holy Taoist mountains to celebrate Ryan's birthday. 2 kms of steps were near vertical at times, encouraging not so charming amounts of sweat and scaring off hundreds of other tourists that bought their medals at the top after taking the strenuous and energetic cable car to the top! No wonder they didn't look like and stink like we did. Ryan celebrated his birthday in suitable style sucking the brains out of a chicken head like Rory had enjoyed the previous night. Chicken feet were equally as interesting although more useful as a tooth pick as you could find more eating on a cat-walk model. Still the next day it was time to experience another of Chinas trademark tourist hotspots and one of the worlds finest tombs. Built near 200 BC, 6000 life-sized, unique, terracotta painted warriors, line up like their human models did in time of war, in a pit the size of a football pitch. This is only one of 13 pits found so far and the pyramid shaped tomb next door is reportedly the largest in the world. Walking through a working excavation sight like that with thousands of other overwhelmed holiday snappers was quite surreal but also incredibly exciting.
From Xi'an it was another 16 hour train to the colonial style metropolis of Shanghai. 3 days here allowed us to be hounded by countless hawkers, desperate to sell their fake Gucci bags, Breitling watches and Armani wallets. By the time they had all hounded us sufficiently, we hadn't much time left to explore such sights as the quaint old town, complete with oldest tea house in China, Alan Titchmarshes heaven on earth; the Yuyuan Gardens, the ridiculous Oriental Pearl Telecommunications Tower, and Shanghai's most expensive beer and ice-cream, 87 stories on top of the Jin-Mao Tower. Other highlights include escaping tropical rainfall by jumping aboard a bus bound for who knows where, holding our breath as kids defied physics as part of the Shanghai Acrobats, and enjoyed the most typical of Chinese past-times, Karaokee. Frank, our guide for the trip, found what he himself describes as "a 5 star karaokee club" with "100%guaranteed enjoyment" for Kathryn's 19th birthday. Even those toatlly against the thought of making such a fool of themselves, joined in and while Matthew professionally executed songs such as Frank Sinatra's Mr. Bo-jangles, the rest crippled our throats, bruised our dancing feet and crucified songs such as Wannabee, In the Navy, and Senorita. A particular favourite amongst the crowds and cheering fans was a rendition of You Raise Me Up, by Westlife performed by none other than the 3 silly Irish blokes with croaky throats and choreographed dance moves. EMI music doesn't seem to have received their demo recording as yet, but when they do, it's obvious those boys are destined for greatness the likes only The Pogues and The Proclaimers have ever tasted!
A 24 hour train journey was plenty of time to rest and recouperate our bleeding ears and tattered throats. It also happened to deposit us in our current location of Yangshuo, Guilin. A Cathedral of granite/dolomite spikes it is a geographers dream and our home for the next 2 days. Activities such as Kungfu, Tai-Chi, rock-climbing and cooking are all on the cards so our next post should be equally filled with such rubbish and tales of woe as this one. Hope it will keep you all happy for a wee while anyway. Only 2 months of this silly blog rubbish, so we'll do our best to finish it all off in style!
Mie Amigos, au revoir.
xo
Tuesday, 17 June 2008
East Coast Australia
You know what, this time I'm not even going to apologise for taking so long to update you all with our most recent happenings as we've all been having too much fun to care, and as for the rest of you, I doubt you care any more than we do!
Since leaving our loved ones in a pool of tears back in Belfast International Airport, Rory and I have spent one long, cold, lonely night apart. Now that we are in the more pleasant Aussie climate, and with different ideas of how to waste as much money as possible over in OZ, we parted company in Brisbane knowing that we would find each other again in Sydney atleast, if for no other reason than we had the same plane to catch. For this reason, you lot are in for a special treat, with the chance of reading not one, but two accounts of our time here in the land of the BBQ's, beer and beaches!
So Ryan to go first. New Zealand was always the country I desperately wanted to see, what with all the mountains, rugby and sheep, how could I resist! As for Australia, it's just a big desert filled with people with silly accents. I never was particularly keen to visit it and only because it was on the way to NZ and we had a couple of free stop overs on our plane tickets, did it become a destination on our itinerary. It was dear old Aaron Bolt of STA Travel, who first got me interested in the place, promising desert islands, sailing, Grand Prix and the usual host of Swedish travellers. Two of the attractions he talked about were the Whitsunday Islands and Fraser Island both north of Brisbane. It was this lure that separated us in Brisbane as I headed north into Queensland and Rory travelled south with Matthew to Byron Bay, New South Wales.
A cheap flight landed me in Prosperine, along the Whitsunday Coast at a small airfield whose customers enjoy an outdoor waiting room and a baggage reclaim off the back of a tractor. What on earth was this place? It turned out to be simply one of the most beautiful and relaxed locations along the east coast of Australia and home to 47 beach lined islands that fringe the Great Barrier reef. After a night out with a few friends that I had met in Melbourne over 2 months ago, I boarded the Silent Night II and got settled in to life sailing the seven seas. There were 12 scurvy sea-dogs on board and we toiled hard on Whitehaven Beach (tipped as one of the best in the world), dived for our dinner in 24 degree, crystal clear, tropical water and inspected the deck closely for hours on end under the tan-inducing sun. It was tough......getting off but I knew Hervey Bay and Fraser Island beyond were in desperate need of my presence.
The weather had beaten Fraser into abandonment the weekend before my arrival, so slightly nervously I packed my bags up early in the morning and prayed for a driver more responsible than myself to take the reigns of our 4x4 for the next 3 days. God definitely does answer prayers, and blessed us with a white van driver from London, who could lap Silverstone in a trolley under 2 minutes! Steve was a legend and guided our beast through tangled forests, along cyclone beaten beaches and over huge sand-dunes. He may have mangled a tyre in the process, but honestly, I probably wouldn't have got it off the ferry safely. Long strolls along empty beaches lead us to the Champagne pools. These were beautiful rock pools that were safe to swim in unlike the shark, sting ray and jelly-fish infested coastal waters that make up one of the most dangerous seas in the world! BBQ feasts, Lake McKenzie gymnastics and beach parties were other highlights that have made Fraser Island have a lasting impression on me and a huge recommendation for any would be traveller.
Bumping into my Melbourne friends, Luke and Kellie again, we agreed to meet up again down in the relaxed town of Noosa. A very up and coming place with money flowing from it's appartment-lined canals and rivers, it reminded me of Holywood only with better weather and a nudist beach. Accidentally stumbled on while with a new french friend, it was just a tad awkward, but, when in Rome......nah just messing but don't tempt me when I'm next back on Helensbay beach! Noosa was also the base for a day trip to Australia Zoo, or more commonly known as "Crikey, it's the shrine to Steve Irwin". Choreographed and staged attractions such as the crocoseum was good stuff, but come on, Koalas are just so cute and cuddly. I could have one as a hot water bottle at home if they weren't so smelly. It took another day or 2 lounging about in Noosa, either on the beaches or trying to kayak with Luke and Kellie before I finally roused from my Koala like trance and headed south back into Brisbane.
Thankfully there was no sign of any magician who required my skilled assistance this time round, and I was simply able to enjoy city life, whether it was chilling out in the park, people watching over a mochaccino or partying all night long with the countless other Irish backpackers that currently called home, "Brissie".
Unfortunately, I only had time for one night in Brissie as I had little over a week to get down to Sydney before my flight took off without me. Countless travellers had warned me not to waste time going anywhere else except for the heaven on earth that is Byron Bay. God definitely did bless this town, with beautiful surf pounded beaches, countless brilliant backpacker hostels and the awesome spectacle of a Whale highway only a few hundred metres off the shore. Unfortunately though, He forgot to keep this place a secret from the Germans, and most of the 1.5 MILLION German tourists in Australia at the minute, seem to be stuck in Byron. This is not a lesson to Bush on foreign relations building, but they were a good bunch and we had a lot of fun together, partying in Cheeky Monkeys and surfing all of the daylight hours. Like me, one may ask how safe it is to surf and swim in the coast of the most vemonous country on the planet? Well apparantly it's OK so long as you're smart but a few dolphins playing in the waves where I was surfing did give me a scare!
It really was very difficult to drag myself away but I had a rugby game to attend in Sydney and there is no force on earth that could stop me from being there, unless it involves ice-cream in some way, perhaps. Let us discuss though for a jiffy. We could cross NI in maybe 2 hours, or 90 minutes so long as we don't drive like my sister. That would take us through countless towns and past many, many world-class sights. That would also HAVE BEEN, a long drive in my books, before that is, I came to Australia. I spent nearly 13 hours on a coach getting to Sydney, and that was only half the length of the state. Whereas at home we could drive north to south in maybe 5 hours, my friend in Sydney here informs me it would take 5 very good DAYS of solid driving to cross the whole country! This place is HUGE! Anyway a few hours rest after bad sleep on the bus (I am no longer the man I was, and sleep is not the natural gift I use to enjoy) before I toodled across to the world famous Bondi Beach. Nice enough but nothing on Portrush strand. It was then time to get a move on to the Sydney Football Stadium where the Sydney Roosters were to beat the Penrith Panthers black and blue in possibly the best sport the world has ever seen, Rugby League. The players in the NRL make our "finely tuned athletes" back home in the Magners League, look like nancy school girls and make me scream in horror at the mere thought of ever stepping out onto a pitch against them. One day though, I'll be there handing out burgers or something,but I'll be back. Weight gain is improving thankfully, so the target of 100kg is looking more promising so long as mother continues to feed me my current diet of cow and tatties. This is also perfect mountain food, .which is a good thing as the next day I was trooping around the Blue Mountains National Park. That's another World Heritage sight ticked off my list. Similar to the Grand Canyon but with possibly even more Asian tourists, it was another one of those places with sights that make you pinch yourself as you realise where you are again! The three sisters were almost as beautiful as Rory's four sisters at home and the towering cliffs and massive trees really made me feel so insignificant. Back at base though I was made to feel big again with not only the arrival of Rory and Matthew, but also another very small friend, Rachel Woods from Holywood. Crazy how we just happen to be in the same hostel, in the same city, in the same country at the same time.
Sydney has continued to entertain us, most notably the Sydney opera House on the banks of the Harbour. We were lucky enough to enjoy a concert in the main hall for little over 10 pounds and even the pesky security, telling me off for taking photos couldn't take away from the experience. Although none of us are particularly enthralled by a string ensemble, try telling us a better way to appreciate one of the worlds truly great, internationally recognisable buildings. Sydney really is beautiful and the Harbour Bridge dominates most tourists photos, including our own.
Tomorrow though we once again pick up our bags and head off for Beijing, China. I think it's safe to say we're all a little excited but unless I want you to smell me all the way back in NI, I better go and pack my bags so I have clothes and things with which to keep myself hygienically respectable.
In the mean time keep yourselves clean, take advantage of all that hot running water and enjoy the great Irish summer.
xox
Since leaving our loved ones in a pool of tears back in Belfast International Airport, Rory and I have spent one long, cold, lonely night apart. Now that we are in the more pleasant Aussie climate, and with different ideas of how to waste as much money as possible over in OZ, we parted company in Brisbane knowing that we would find each other again in Sydney atleast, if for no other reason than we had the same plane to catch. For this reason, you lot are in for a special treat, with the chance of reading not one, but two accounts of our time here in the land of the BBQ's, beer and beaches!
So Ryan to go first. New Zealand was always the country I desperately wanted to see, what with all the mountains, rugby and sheep, how could I resist! As for Australia, it's just a big desert filled with people with silly accents. I never was particularly keen to visit it and only because it was on the way to NZ and we had a couple of free stop overs on our plane tickets, did it become a destination on our itinerary. It was dear old Aaron Bolt of STA Travel, who first got me interested in the place, promising desert islands, sailing, Grand Prix and the usual host of Swedish travellers. Two of the attractions he talked about were the Whitsunday Islands and Fraser Island both north of Brisbane. It was this lure that separated us in Brisbane as I headed north into Queensland and Rory travelled south with Matthew to Byron Bay, New South Wales.
A cheap flight landed me in Prosperine, along the Whitsunday Coast at a small airfield whose customers enjoy an outdoor waiting room and a baggage reclaim off the back of a tractor. What on earth was this place? It turned out to be simply one of the most beautiful and relaxed locations along the east coast of Australia and home to 47 beach lined islands that fringe the Great Barrier reef. After a night out with a few friends that I had met in Melbourne over 2 months ago, I boarded the Silent Night II and got settled in to life sailing the seven seas. There were 12 scurvy sea-dogs on board and we toiled hard on Whitehaven Beach (tipped as one of the best in the world), dived for our dinner in 24 degree, crystal clear, tropical water and inspected the deck closely for hours on end under the tan-inducing sun. It was tough......getting off but I knew Hervey Bay and Fraser Island beyond were in desperate need of my presence.
The weather had beaten Fraser into abandonment the weekend before my arrival, so slightly nervously I packed my bags up early in the morning and prayed for a driver more responsible than myself to take the reigns of our 4x4 for the next 3 days. God definitely does answer prayers, and blessed us with a white van driver from London, who could lap Silverstone in a trolley under 2 minutes! Steve was a legend and guided our beast through tangled forests, along cyclone beaten beaches and over huge sand-dunes. He may have mangled a tyre in the process, but honestly, I probably wouldn't have got it off the ferry safely. Long strolls along empty beaches lead us to the Champagne pools. These were beautiful rock pools that were safe to swim in unlike the shark, sting ray and jelly-fish infested coastal waters that make up one of the most dangerous seas in the world! BBQ feasts, Lake McKenzie gymnastics and beach parties were other highlights that have made Fraser Island have a lasting impression on me and a huge recommendation for any would be traveller.
Bumping into my Melbourne friends, Luke and Kellie again, we agreed to meet up again down in the relaxed town of Noosa. A very up and coming place with money flowing from it's appartment-lined canals and rivers, it reminded me of Holywood only with better weather and a nudist beach. Accidentally stumbled on while with a new french friend, it was just a tad awkward, but, when in Rome......nah just messing but don't tempt me when I'm next back on Helensbay beach! Noosa was also the base for a day trip to Australia Zoo, or more commonly known as "Crikey, it's the shrine to Steve Irwin". Choreographed and staged attractions such as the crocoseum was good stuff, but come on, Koalas are just so cute and cuddly. I could have one as a hot water bottle at home if they weren't so smelly. It took another day or 2 lounging about in Noosa, either on the beaches or trying to kayak with Luke and Kellie before I finally roused from my Koala like trance and headed south back into Brisbane.
Thankfully there was no sign of any magician who required my skilled assistance this time round, and I was simply able to enjoy city life, whether it was chilling out in the park, people watching over a mochaccino or partying all night long with the countless other Irish backpackers that currently called home, "Brissie".
Unfortunately, I only had time for one night in Brissie as I had little over a week to get down to Sydney before my flight took off without me. Countless travellers had warned me not to waste time going anywhere else except for the heaven on earth that is Byron Bay. God definitely did bless this town, with beautiful surf pounded beaches, countless brilliant backpacker hostels and the awesome spectacle of a Whale highway only a few hundred metres off the shore. Unfortunately though, He forgot to keep this place a secret from the Germans, and most of the 1.5 MILLION German tourists in Australia at the minute, seem to be stuck in Byron. This is not a lesson to Bush on foreign relations building, but they were a good bunch and we had a lot of fun together, partying in Cheeky Monkeys and surfing all of the daylight hours. Like me, one may ask how safe it is to surf and swim in the coast of the most vemonous country on the planet? Well apparantly it's OK so long as you're smart but a few dolphins playing in the waves where I was surfing did give me a scare!
It really was very difficult to drag myself away but I had a rugby game to attend in Sydney and there is no force on earth that could stop me from being there, unless it involves ice-cream in some way, perhaps. Let us discuss though for a jiffy. We could cross NI in maybe 2 hours, or 90 minutes so long as we don't drive like my sister. That would take us through countless towns and past many, many world-class sights. That would also HAVE BEEN, a long drive in my books, before that is, I came to Australia. I spent nearly 13 hours on a coach getting to Sydney, and that was only half the length of the state. Whereas at home we could drive north to south in maybe 5 hours, my friend in Sydney here informs me it would take 5 very good DAYS of solid driving to cross the whole country! This place is HUGE! Anyway a few hours rest after bad sleep on the bus (I am no longer the man I was, and sleep is not the natural gift I use to enjoy) before I toodled across to the world famous Bondi Beach. Nice enough but nothing on Portrush strand. It was then time to get a move on to the Sydney Football Stadium where the Sydney Roosters were to beat the Penrith Panthers black and blue in possibly the best sport the world has ever seen, Rugby League. The players in the NRL make our "finely tuned athletes" back home in the Magners League, look like nancy school girls and make me scream in horror at the mere thought of ever stepping out onto a pitch against them. One day though, I'll be there handing out burgers or something,but I'll be back. Weight gain is improving thankfully, so the target of 100kg is looking more promising so long as mother continues to feed me my current diet of cow and tatties. This is also perfect mountain food, .which is a good thing as the next day I was trooping around the Blue Mountains National Park. That's another World Heritage sight ticked off my list. Similar to the Grand Canyon but with possibly even more Asian tourists, it was another one of those places with sights that make you pinch yourself as you realise where you are again! The three sisters were almost as beautiful as Rory's four sisters at home and the towering cliffs and massive trees really made me feel so insignificant. Back at base though I was made to feel big again with not only the arrival of Rory and Matthew, but also another very small friend, Rachel Woods from Holywood. Crazy how we just happen to be in the same hostel, in the same city, in the same country at the same time.
Sydney has continued to entertain us, most notably the Sydney opera House on the banks of the Harbour. We were lucky enough to enjoy a concert in the main hall for little over 10 pounds and even the pesky security, telling me off for taking photos couldn't take away from the experience. Although none of us are particularly enthralled by a string ensemble, try telling us a better way to appreciate one of the worlds truly great, internationally recognisable buildings. Sydney really is beautiful and the Harbour Bridge dominates most tourists photos, including our own.
Tomorrow though we once again pick up our bags and head off for Beijing, China. I think it's safe to say we're all a little excited but unless I want you to smell me all the way back in NI, I better go and pack my bags so I have clothes and things with which to keep myself hygienically respectable.
In the mean time keep yourselves clean, take advantage of all that hot running water and enjoy the great Irish summer.
xox
Tuesday, 27 May 2008
Glaciers, Desert Islands and everything in between!
Jeepers, was the last post we did really all the way back at the Glaciers?! It felt like only yesterday we were clambering over giant ice cubes and dodging light speed rivers of ice. Maybe that's because since then we have done so flipping much, hence we've never been able to get near man greatest ever invention.
Lets start from where we left off, Franz Josef and Fox Glacier. The weather did clear up and in the end we had clear skies in which to enjoy these natural wonders. Ignoring safety signs we clambered over the face and really appreciated the size of them. After careful measurement, we were able to come to the conclusion that they were even bigger than Ryan's feet. Impressive to say the least. On leaving the Glaciers and west coast, we also left the rain behind. Didn't feel another drop until Christchurch so this allowed us to enjoy New Zealand's finest offerings in all their glory.
After guiding Zeus through the winding and beautiful Haast Pass, we landed in Wanaka. To say it was beautiful, is an understatement the likes of which has never been heard. Snow capped peaks mirrored as they tower above crystal clear lakes was just so inviting. So seizing the moment, like magnificent men in their flying machines, we were carried up to the heavens before throwing ourselves (or thrown!) out of our winged chariots and hurtled towards the ground at a mere 60 meters per second. At that speed even the the most tight browed plastic surgery addict from Hollywood, has jowls like a turkey and cheeks so puffed out that they could park their limousines inside! But, what a stunning way to see Mt. Aspiring National Park and the tallest Mountain in Oceania, Mt. Cook. For those who would prefer us to be less hasty in our sight seeing and not leave such a dent with our carbon foot print, mountains were scaled and time taken to appreciate and take in this most scenic, beautiful, awe inducing, inspiring countryside. Note should also be paid to the St. Andrews Presby church visited in the morning that provided us with a fabulous lunch and then the Lighthouse that gave us plenty to think about. Check these out WHEN, not if you are ever in the area.
After the biggest adrenaline rush of our lives, we headed to Queenstown. For those in the know and with backpacking knowledge, this is not only the adrenaline capital of South Island, or NZ but the whole world. Bank balances could be drained like Tescos turkeys at Christmas time so just a few hours after falling from 12,000ft we decided to jump in a boat strapped to 7000 horses or seahorses more likely. Well it was fast and more nerve racking than Ryan driving Zeus blindfolded, but what a laugh. Don't worry Zeus was never driven blind although Matthew's road kill count would suggest otherwise. Almost a National Sport, smooshing Australia's introduced possums is taught to learner divers along side learning which pedal does what and knowing that a car has 4 wheels and an engine. The abundance of road side mess makes a huge feast for the countless birds of prey and we imagine they must must see road sides as a motorway buffet diner. If only our food was as cheap.
It was in Queenstown that our paths split for the first time in 4 months. While Ryan, hauled his bag over 1500m up and 48km along, Matthew and Rory took a leisurely drive and met him at the other side the next day. A sweaty mess, but with sights etched in to his memory, Ryan slept like a baby that night eager about the next day and the jewel of NZ's tourist industry. Carved thousands of years ago, by what must have been colossal ice cubes, Milford Sound boasts 600m high near vertical cliffs that plunge into deep fiords stolen from the west coast of Norway. Pipped to be the 8th wonder of the world, Milford sound is infested with cruise boats and noisy tourists, nearly falling over board as they try to get that perfect snap shot of Mitre Peak; a 1900m guardian of the fiord. Well, we were 3 of those tourists and like the millions who have gone before us, blown away by the incredible beauty.
What to do after seeing something like that? Getting lost down a dark cave with only one torch between the 3 of us is quite exciting, and bowling for the first time in 4 months down in Invercargill is pretty good, but lets face it, Milford Sound and Mt. Aspiring National Park are the balls! We had made it from Cape Reinga at the very top, all the way to Bluff right at the south and although route 1 will take you more directly, the extra few kms we had travelled between them was more than worth it. We even picked up a German hitch hiker along the way and discussed how relations between our 2 great countries could be mended while listening to hard core German hip hop, Zie Hail!
Dunedin was our next port of call and to be honest it beat all expectations. A thriving student city it boasts not just Cadbury World, or the First Church of Otago (Presby, obviously darlings), or the steepest street in the world (which we scaled (but not in Zeus)), but it's biggest and bestest boast is that it's home to Speights Brewery, "Pride of the South". Never has beer been so educational and a guide so enthralling. A free bar afterwards was made the most of before getting back in Zeus and driving north to Oamaru and its colony of blue penguins. Don't fret, fortuanately we had designated Matthew driver and that may be because he doesn't like beer. That explains why he thinks we're British then.
A night of fishing landed numerous dogfish, not sharks as Ryan first screamed, and a few penguin sightings. Small and blue, we decided not to have them for dinner and instead Matthew blinded them with his flash photography. The next day it was our final road trip, and Ryan coaxed dear Zeus up the final few hundred kms to Christchurch where we were to try and sell our beloved friend.
The next 2 days give us plenty of time to think how much fun we had enjoyed with our trusty steed and how much we would miss her, as not one soul paid a blind bit of interest in her even after we had spruced her up and got her looking sparkly clean. It wasn't until our final day at the market that Sarah, all the way from the french Alps, laid eyes on beautiful Zeus and immediately fell in love with her. It wasn't long before we had a whole lot more money in our wallets and one less bed to sleep in. Capital of the South, Christchurch was very beautiful and full of charm. Still we had only the morning to enjoy it before we were whisked away by Mr. Qantas to our new home in Brisbane, Queensland, Australia.
A whole lot warmer and more people than we could shake a stick at, being back in a proper, global city was exciting and the prospect of a shower a day made us pee a litlle with excitement. A huge metrapolis we were chauffeured around the city first by Declan, and then landed in Ben and Julia's manse in the suburbs. Contacts of a contact of Matthews father, it was strange but very quickly we were made to feel very welcome and this soon became a home from home. After attending Ben's Taiwanese church and 2 hours of interpretation, their son Jeff guided us around the sights sounds and magicians of Brisbane. Like Melbourne, everyone was outside enjoying themselves, while eating and drinking, and unlike NZ it didn't all close down at 6pm.
It's here that we have once again parted company. While Rory and Matthew journey south to Byron Bay to visit friends, Ryan has ventured north to the Whitsunday Islands and the Great Barrier reef.
Now before my free meal ticket expires, I must bolt, but I'm sure by the next time we get a chance to compile another volume of rubbish, there will be countless more stories and exploits with which to make you unhealthily bitter that you are not out here with us.
Love, hugs and kisses to all.
Adieu
Lets start from where we left off, Franz Josef and Fox Glacier. The weather did clear up and in the end we had clear skies in which to enjoy these natural wonders. Ignoring safety signs we clambered over the face and really appreciated the size of them. After careful measurement, we were able to come to the conclusion that they were even bigger than Ryan's feet. Impressive to say the least. On leaving the Glaciers and west coast, we also left the rain behind. Didn't feel another drop until Christchurch so this allowed us to enjoy New Zealand's finest offerings in all their glory.
After guiding Zeus through the winding and beautiful Haast Pass, we landed in Wanaka. To say it was beautiful, is an understatement the likes of which has never been heard. Snow capped peaks mirrored as they tower above crystal clear lakes was just so inviting. So seizing the moment, like magnificent men in their flying machines, we were carried up to the heavens before throwing ourselves (or thrown!) out of our winged chariots and hurtled towards the ground at a mere 60 meters per second. At that speed even the the most tight browed plastic surgery addict from Hollywood, has jowls like a turkey and cheeks so puffed out that they could park their limousines inside! But, what a stunning way to see Mt. Aspiring National Park and the tallest Mountain in Oceania, Mt. Cook. For those who would prefer us to be less hasty in our sight seeing and not leave such a dent with our carbon foot print, mountains were scaled and time taken to appreciate and take in this most scenic, beautiful, awe inducing, inspiring countryside. Note should also be paid to the St. Andrews Presby church visited in the morning that provided us with a fabulous lunch and then the Lighthouse that gave us plenty to think about. Check these out WHEN, not if you are ever in the area.
After the biggest adrenaline rush of our lives, we headed to Queenstown. For those in the know and with backpacking knowledge, this is not only the adrenaline capital of South Island, or NZ but the whole world. Bank balances could be drained like Tescos turkeys at Christmas time so just a few hours after falling from 12,000ft we decided to jump in a boat strapped to 7000 horses or seahorses more likely. Well it was fast and more nerve racking than Ryan driving Zeus blindfolded, but what a laugh. Don't worry Zeus was never driven blind although Matthew's road kill count would suggest otherwise. Almost a National Sport, smooshing Australia's introduced possums is taught to learner divers along side learning which pedal does what and knowing that a car has 4 wheels and an engine. The abundance of road side mess makes a huge feast for the countless birds of prey and we imagine they must must see road sides as a motorway buffet diner. If only our food was as cheap.
It was in Queenstown that our paths split for the first time in 4 months. While Ryan, hauled his bag over 1500m up and 48km along, Matthew and Rory took a leisurely drive and met him at the other side the next day. A sweaty mess, but with sights etched in to his memory, Ryan slept like a baby that night eager about the next day and the jewel of NZ's tourist industry. Carved thousands of years ago, by what must have been colossal ice cubes, Milford Sound boasts 600m high near vertical cliffs that plunge into deep fiords stolen from the west coast of Norway. Pipped to be the 8th wonder of the world, Milford sound is infested with cruise boats and noisy tourists, nearly falling over board as they try to get that perfect snap shot of Mitre Peak; a 1900m guardian of the fiord. Well, we were 3 of those tourists and like the millions who have gone before us, blown away by the incredible beauty.
What to do after seeing something like that? Getting lost down a dark cave with only one torch between the 3 of us is quite exciting, and bowling for the first time in 4 months down in Invercargill is pretty good, but lets face it, Milford Sound and Mt. Aspiring National Park are the balls! We had made it from Cape Reinga at the very top, all the way to Bluff right at the south and although route 1 will take you more directly, the extra few kms we had travelled between them was more than worth it. We even picked up a German hitch hiker along the way and discussed how relations between our 2 great countries could be mended while listening to hard core German hip hop, Zie Hail!
Dunedin was our next port of call and to be honest it beat all expectations. A thriving student city it boasts not just Cadbury World, or the First Church of Otago (Presby, obviously darlings), or the steepest street in the world (which we scaled (but not in Zeus)), but it's biggest and bestest boast is that it's home to Speights Brewery, "Pride of the South". Never has beer been so educational and a guide so enthralling. A free bar afterwards was made the most of before getting back in Zeus and driving north to Oamaru and its colony of blue penguins. Don't fret, fortuanately we had designated Matthew driver and that may be because he doesn't like beer. That explains why he thinks we're British then.
A night of fishing landed numerous dogfish, not sharks as Ryan first screamed, and a few penguin sightings. Small and blue, we decided not to have them for dinner and instead Matthew blinded them with his flash photography. The next day it was our final road trip, and Ryan coaxed dear Zeus up the final few hundred kms to Christchurch where we were to try and sell our beloved friend.
The next 2 days give us plenty of time to think how much fun we had enjoyed with our trusty steed and how much we would miss her, as not one soul paid a blind bit of interest in her even after we had spruced her up and got her looking sparkly clean. It wasn't until our final day at the market that Sarah, all the way from the french Alps, laid eyes on beautiful Zeus and immediately fell in love with her. It wasn't long before we had a whole lot more money in our wallets and one less bed to sleep in. Capital of the South, Christchurch was very beautiful and full of charm. Still we had only the morning to enjoy it before we were whisked away by Mr. Qantas to our new home in Brisbane, Queensland, Australia.
A whole lot warmer and more people than we could shake a stick at, being back in a proper, global city was exciting and the prospect of a shower a day made us pee a litlle with excitement. A huge metrapolis we were chauffeured around the city first by Declan, and then landed in Ben and Julia's manse in the suburbs. Contacts of a contact of Matthews father, it was strange but very quickly we were made to feel very welcome and this soon became a home from home. After attending Ben's Taiwanese church and 2 hours of interpretation, their son Jeff guided us around the sights sounds and magicians of Brisbane. Like Melbourne, everyone was outside enjoying themselves, while eating and drinking, and unlike NZ it didn't all close down at 6pm.
It's here that we have once again parted company. While Rory and Matthew journey south to Byron Bay to visit friends, Ryan has ventured north to the Whitsunday Islands and the Great Barrier reef.
Now before my free meal ticket expires, I must bolt, but I'm sure by the next time we get a chance to compile another volume of rubbish, there will be countless more stories and exploits with which to make you unhealthily bitter that you are not out here with us.
Love, hugs and kisses to all.
Adieu
Friday, 9 May 2008
Last time we spoke, we had just visited the most Northerly tip of mainland New Zealand and an area of massive Maori importance. Since then we have travelled almost to the other end of NZ and are currently hiding from the rain in one of the worlds highest rainfall areas! How things have changed since we rubbed salt in your wounds as we basked in all that cancer inducing sun whilst most of home struggled to stay afloat in the heavy rain and snow!
Well we'll fill you in quickly on some of our latest exploits. Cape Reinga and the meeting of the Tasman Sea and Pacific ocean was brilliant and the Bay of Islands in all it's sun lapped glory was just as good. Scenic drives along back country roads kept our cameras working over time and allowed Zeus, our big red van, to stretch her legs. Like a nimble footed mountain goat, she delivered us form one scenic view point to the next and down to some truly beautiful stretches of beach. Too important to us and loved too much, we decided not to risk her on ninety mile beach and it's treacherous waves. A couple of days spent swimming, fishing (and in Ryan's case rescuing deadly poisonous Lion fish, from the hook and wrath of Rory and Matthew) and even a spot of rugby. It was a long old jaunt from here down past Auckland and to the farming region of Waikato. Sheep were of course a plenty but sine we are not from Ballymena, we did not come here simply for our fluffy white, four legged friends. Instead, like the flies and moths that go before us, it was the star like light produced by thousands of glow-worms hanging from huge cave systems that lured us here. Even Sir David Attenborough couldn't resist their charm and was drawn here like a weary sailor tempted by mythical sirens! A few hours later we emerged cold, wet and muddy but with memories of floating through caves lit only by twinkling lights. It felt like being on a space ship, zooming through galaxies like spok and Darth Vader.
Our next destination was the smelly town of Rotorua. With a smell of rotten eggs in the air that burnt the nostrils, we left slightly disappointed. Yes the thermal pools were lovely and rivers slightly warm, but the strong sulphur drove us away like Zeus from salt water. Thankfully Zeus got driven south towards the volcanic region of Tongariro National Park. Ryan woke at 7am and tears crept in to his eyes (or maybe it was just condensation from the windows) as the realisation that clouds would once again scupper their plans to experience this incredible mountain range. 2 hours of disappointed and dread filled sleep later, he woke peeping his head out through the curtains to see again a carpet of clouds.....except for a patch of blue sky coming in over Mount Tongariro. As if zapped by an electric cow prodder he jumped into life and dragged the rest of the mottly crew with him. They ventured through thick forest and flodded paths up the mountain side constantly racing the clouds. In the end, they enjoyed wonderful panormaic views of the country side, volcanoes, vents, lava flows and other geological volcanical wonders of the world. The bright turquoise Emerald Lakes and rusty coloured Red crater were unbelievable sights and the rim of the red crater made a nice heated seat that roasted our derriere while we luncheoned like old grannies after a jolly good old knees up.
We returned to our decrepid traveller Gavin, and Zeus promptly whisked us up to the adrenaline fuelled township of Taupo. Located beside the beautiful Lake Taupo our plans were to enjoy the sights while hurtling towards them at over 200 km/h (not quite as fast as Zeus) after jumping out of a plane at 12000ft. Well after a few hours wasted exploring the craters of the moon which was a bad idea, don't go there, we were once again scuppered. This time not by the weather but with less than 30mins before we were due to kill ourselves, the radar broke. For our parents and anyone else who may love us a little, i'm sure this was a blessing, but we were gutted and left Taupo disheartened. On our way to NZ's capital, not Auckland but Wellington, we made a few stops into Palmerston north so Ryan could catch a glimpse of his future education and then an overnight halt in Otaki. Not on most travellers itineraries, this was our best campsite yet. A kind soul had invited us to stay the night and hot showers, room to wriggle our toes and a real proper, mattress laden, duvet covered, bed were most appreciated. We salute you Mary P!
After helping in the morning with the horses and lumber jack duties, we left with a well rested head and some homemade marmalade. What a star. Welly was the home of Gavins one and only desire in NZ. Monkeys, tigers, guinea pigs and Meerkats at Wellington Zoo kept him entertained along with the waitress working in the zoos cafeteria. It was our last night together so to celebrate more room in the van for the remaining 3, and hot showers beds and general comfortable living for Gavin and Chris we hit the town, reducing prime beef steak stocks considerably before enteratining the locals in pubs and clubs throughout Welly. Our last morning together we spent getting lost once again in NZ's best museum the Te Papa.
At 3pm it was the feitful time when paths must split and company part ways. Tears were shed and hugs and kissed passed amongst us but Ryan still lost in Te Papa was nowhere to be seen. He had missed the long goodbyes but luckily emerged in time for the boat. Our sailing across the Cook Strait was thankfully uneventful and 3 hours later we were back on dry land in New Zealands South Island.
Our first day was spent doing the glamorous things such laundry for the first time in weeks, grocery shopping and van tidying. All the things we love to do most. Compared to this a day spent Kayaking in the aqua-marine blue waters of the Abel Tasman National Park, under brilliant sunshine was utterly miserable. Well not quite infact, it rivalled the Tongariro crossing for vistas, photo oppertunities and just good old fashioned fun. We became seasoned naturists spotting different native birds and seals doing the arduous task of sunbathing.
Complete with blisters and sore, tired arms we ventured on to Alpine country and the beautiful Nelson Lakes National Park. While the weather was still kind and we continued on to the amazing West Coast. Once faous for it's gold mining heritage, now mother nature and the amazing creation draws tourists here like bees to a honey pot, or women to a sale or trekkies to a startrek convention. Although yes it is raining on us, this is not uncommon as 263 days a year average a good bit of rain and normally about 5.1m of the stuff falls each year. Still the huge ice cubes that are Franz Josef and Fox Glacier are pulling us away from our computer screens and towards more heavenly sights. Please excuse us rushing off but again blue sky is squeezing through the clouds and we're off to make the most of it. Run run run!
Love you muchly readers
Well we'll fill you in quickly on some of our latest exploits. Cape Reinga and the meeting of the Tasman Sea and Pacific ocean was brilliant and the Bay of Islands in all it's sun lapped glory was just as good. Scenic drives along back country roads kept our cameras working over time and allowed Zeus, our big red van, to stretch her legs. Like a nimble footed mountain goat, she delivered us form one scenic view point to the next and down to some truly beautiful stretches of beach. Too important to us and loved too much, we decided not to risk her on ninety mile beach and it's treacherous waves. A couple of days spent swimming, fishing (and in Ryan's case rescuing deadly poisonous Lion fish, from the hook and wrath of Rory and Matthew) and even a spot of rugby. It was a long old jaunt from here down past Auckland and to the farming region of Waikato. Sheep were of course a plenty but sine we are not from Ballymena, we did not come here simply for our fluffy white, four legged friends. Instead, like the flies and moths that go before us, it was the star like light produced by thousands of glow-worms hanging from huge cave systems that lured us here. Even Sir David Attenborough couldn't resist their charm and was drawn here like a weary sailor tempted by mythical sirens! A few hours later we emerged cold, wet and muddy but with memories of floating through caves lit only by twinkling lights. It felt like being on a space ship, zooming through galaxies like spok and Darth Vader.
Our next destination was the smelly town of Rotorua. With a smell of rotten eggs in the air that burnt the nostrils, we left slightly disappointed. Yes the thermal pools were lovely and rivers slightly warm, but the strong sulphur drove us away like Zeus from salt water. Thankfully Zeus got driven south towards the volcanic region of Tongariro National Park. Ryan woke at 7am and tears crept in to his eyes (or maybe it was just condensation from the windows) as the realisation that clouds would once again scupper their plans to experience this incredible mountain range. 2 hours of disappointed and dread filled sleep later, he woke peeping his head out through the curtains to see again a carpet of clouds.....except for a patch of blue sky coming in over Mount Tongariro. As if zapped by an electric cow prodder he jumped into life and dragged the rest of the mottly crew with him. They ventured through thick forest and flodded paths up the mountain side constantly racing the clouds. In the end, they enjoyed wonderful panormaic views of the country side, volcanoes, vents, lava flows and other geological volcanical wonders of the world. The bright turquoise Emerald Lakes and rusty coloured Red crater were unbelievable sights and the rim of the red crater made a nice heated seat that roasted our derriere while we luncheoned like old grannies after a jolly good old knees up.
We returned to our decrepid traveller Gavin, and Zeus promptly whisked us up to the adrenaline fuelled township of Taupo. Located beside the beautiful Lake Taupo our plans were to enjoy the sights while hurtling towards them at over 200 km/h (not quite as fast as Zeus) after jumping out of a plane at 12000ft. Well after a few hours wasted exploring the craters of the moon which was a bad idea, don't go there, we were once again scuppered. This time not by the weather but with less than 30mins before we were due to kill ourselves, the radar broke. For our parents and anyone else who may love us a little, i'm sure this was a blessing, but we were gutted and left Taupo disheartened. On our way to NZ's capital, not Auckland but Wellington, we made a few stops into Palmerston north so Ryan could catch a glimpse of his future education and then an overnight halt in Otaki. Not on most travellers itineraries, this was our best campsite yet. A kind soul had invited us to stay the night and hot showers, room to wriggle our toes and a real proper, mattress laden, duvet covered, bed were most appreciated. We salute you Mary P!
After helping in the morning with the horses and lumber jack duties, we left with a well rested head and some homemade marmalade. What a star. Welly was the home of Gavins one and only desire in NZ. Monkeys, tigers, guinea pigs and Meerkats at Wellington Zoo kept him entertained along with the waitress working in the zoos cafeteria. It was our last night together so to celebrate more room in the van for the remaining 3, and hot showers beds and general comfortable living for Gavin and Chris we hit the town, reducing prime beef steak stocks considerably before enteratining the locals in pubs and clubs throughout Welly. Our last morning together we spent getting lost once again in NZ's best museum the Te Papa.
At 3pm it was the feitful time when paths must split and company part ways. Tears were shed and hugs and kissed passed amongst us but Ryan still lost in Te Papa was nowhere to be seen. He had missed the long goodbyes but luckily emerged in time for the boat. Our sailing across the Cook Strait was thankfully uneventful and 3 hours later we were back on dry land in New Zealands South Island.
Our first day was spent doing the glamorous things such laundry for the first time in weeks, grocery shopping and van tidying. All the things we love to do most. Compared to this a day spent Kayaking in the aqua-marine blue waters of the Abel Tasman National Park, under brilliant sunshine was utterly miserable. Well not quite infact, it rivalled the Tongariro crossing for vistas, photo oppertunities and just good old fashioned fun. We became seasoned naturists spotting different native birds and seals doing the arduous task of sunbathing.
Complete with blisters and sore, tired arms we ventured on to Alpine country and the beautiful Nelson Lakes National Park. While the weather was still kind and we continued on to the amazing West Coast. Once faous for it's gold mining heritage, now mother nature and the amazing creation draws tourists here like bees to a honey pot, or women to a sale or trekkies to a startrek convention. Although yes it is raining on us, this is not uncommon as 263 days a year average a good bit of rain and normally about 5.1m of the stuff falls each year. Still the huge ice cubes that are Franz Josef and Fox Glacier are pulling us away from our computer screens and towards more heavenly sights. Please excuse us rushing off but again blue sky is squeezing through the clouds and we're off to make the most of it. Run run run!
Love you muchly readers
Sunday, 27 April 2008
New Zealand so far...
Jeepers it's been too long since we've left our mark on the world's interweb but thankfully we're back and plenty more wee stories to share. Infact so many wee sotries in so little time we're probably going to miss out most of them but hopefully you'll get most of it.
Although you were probably beginning to fear the worst and suspecting those blood thirsty kiwi birds to have torn us apart and ravaged our fat irish bodies, we actualy pretty much wasted our first month in New Zealand lost in orchards and waiting for vans. Gavin and Chris kept us well entertained in Hastings for the first few weeks with a wee wander down to Welly to watch a Super 14s match though. Hurricanes vs Sharks in a rainy stadium finished in a 14 all draw but the night life after made it all worth while and to escape the boredom of Hastings was like manna from heaven.
The rotten apple was our home for the month and just happed to be full of Northern Irelanders. Not that we are complaining because we are the superior race. Nice place and nice people always willing to help. Ths brings us on to our van nicely. In our quest to find our diamond in the rough we were put in touch with a man who kept reminding us how much of a nice guy he was and just willing to help. He found us a van but became very dodgy, so wearing our sensible shorts we walked away from him and left him to con someone else. Only 2 hours after we had left him we became the proud new owners of THE Big Red Van. A few knocks and bumps give it character but she has been transformed into a beauty and currently carrying 5 of us around the North Island. As big as she is 5 is a tight squeeze! That means 3 on our hand built custom bed in the boot, 1 on the bench in the middle and 1 squeezed between gear knobs and steering wheels, and over handbrakes along the seats in the front. When we return home with back problems you will know why. "5? I thought there were only 2 Rorys and Ryans in the world?" we heard you say. Yes, unfortunately there are not more of us and you have only been blessed with one of each, but we have recently recruited Matthew Gaston from Belfast somewhere, into our touring group and he will be staying with us until we hopefully make it to Hong Kong. 5 minus 3 still leaves 2 for all you keen mathematicists out there and those 2 berths are filled by none other than Gavin Gleeson himself and Chris Foye, another man from back home who is currently on a break from work over here. Try to imagine the smell of the van each morning, it ain't pretty.
So far on our adeventure around north island we have covered some 2000kms already. We drove from Hastings to the East Cape to watch the sun rise in the morning and be some of the first in the world to do so. Then toured on round the coast through the Bay of Plenty and its many surfing boudoirs, quickly through the stench that is Rotorua where Gav was taken to hospital fearing a broken ankle (it's all good, don't fret) on up round the Coromandel Peninsula with its amazing scenery, beautiful beaches and brilliant fishing, before collecting Mr Gaston in Auckland, and blasting our way up the Northland coast to Cape Reigna, stopping only for snorkelling, swimming, eating and the odd picture here and there. Its been a whistle stop tour so far but there's still plenty to do.
Like our travels we also have to be moving on now so that's it for now. Hopefully the next blog will be a little less time constrained and we can fill you in on some more of the finer details as well as satisfy your scandal seeking ears and gossip filled mouths.
Love and Kisses from all 5 of us now. That's alot-a-lovin!
xox
Although you were probably beginning to fear the worst and suspecting those blood thirsty kiwi birds to have torn us apart and ravaged our fat irish bodies, we actualy pretty much wasted our first month in New Zealand lost in orchards and waiting for vans. Gavin and Chris kept us well entertained in Hastings for the first few weeks with a wee wander down to Welly to watch a Super 14s match though. Hurricanes vs Sharks in a rainy stadium finished in a 14 all draw but the night life after made it all worth while and to escape the boredom of Hastings was like manna from heaven.
The rotten apple was our home for the month and just happed to be full of Northern Irelanders. Not that we are complaining because we are the superior race. Nice place and nice people always willing to help. Ths brings us on to our van nicely. In our quest to find our diamond in the rough we were put in touch with a man who kept reminding us how much of a nice guy he was and just willing to help. He found us a van but became very dodgy, so wearing our sensible shorts we walked away from him and left him to con someone else. Only 2 hours after we had left him we became the proud new owners of THE Big Red Van. A few knocks and bumps give it character but she has been transformed into a beauty and currently carrying 5 of us around the North Island. As big as she is 5 is a tight squeeze! That means 3 on our hand built custom bed in the boot, 1 on the bench in the middle and 1 squeezed between gear knobs and steering wheels, and over handbrakes along the seats in the front. When we return home with back problems you will know why. "5? I thought there were only 2 Rorys and Ryans in the world?" we heard you say. Yes, unfortunately there are not more of us and you have only been blessed with one of each, but we have recently recruited Matthew Gaston from Belfast somewhere, into our touring group and he will be staying with us until we hopefully make it to Hong Kong. 5 minus 3 still leaves 2 for all you keen mathematicists out there and those 2 berths are filled by none other than Gavin Gleeson himself and Chris Foye, another man from back home who is currently on a break from work over here. Try to imagine the smell of the van each morning, it ain't pretty.
So far on our adeventure around north island we have covered some 2000kms already. We drove from Hastings to the East Cape to watch the sun rise in the morning and be some of the first in the world to do so. Then toured on round the coast through the Bay of Plenty and its many surfing boudoirs, quickly through the stench that is Rotorua where Gav was taken to hospital fearing a broken ankle (it's all good, don't fret) on up round the Coromandel Peninsula with its amazing scenery, beautiful beaches and brilliant fishing, before collecting Mr Gaston in Auckland, and blasting our way up the Northland coast to Cape Reigna, stopping only for snorkelling, swimming, eating and the odd picture here and there. Its been a whistle stop tour so far but there's still plenty to do.
Like our travels we also have to be moving on now so that's it for now. Hopefully the next blog will be a little less time constrained and we can fill you in on some more of the finer details as well as satisfy your scandal seeking ears and gossip filled mouths.
Love and Kisses from all 5 of us now. That's alot-a-lovin!
xox
Friday, 21 March 2008
The rest of Bali, Melbourne and Lewis
Coming up....Bali disappoints, Ryan breaks a board, swedish girls get paid to talk to us, Meilbourne is amazing, Lewis Hamilton.
Well that's just about everything for the past 2 weeks so...
The End
Kind of like a movie trailer, we tell you all the good bits so you have the general idea and don't need to waste time or money reading the rest of it. However like all great Spielbergs, or Peter Jacksons now that we are in hobbit land, we endevour to go beyond the main headlines of each journey and indulge your senses on the rest of our exploits over the past two weeks.
Can't believe it was 2 weeks ago we did the last blog, it's such a chore but that's how much we love you.............
Anyways onwards, I say, onwards!!!!
We left you on the cliff hanger that was Bali's Nyepi festival. Bloody cock fights, crazy music, huge parade floats, drinks with our friend Arvi from the plane and then nothing for a whole day.....partaaayyyyyy. To celebrate the end of this party....we took to our 125cc beasts and sped round the island looking for believe it or not, the tallest statue in the world! Like all great Asian countries, the Balinese locals seemed to have never encountered a map before so finding the worlds largest statue was no easy task even on an island as small as Bali. After ignoring locals who pointed on the map for us to drive our scooters over the South China Sea, we found Ulu Watu temple, on top of some dover like, white cliffs. Disappointing after coming from the temples and culture of Bangkok but the thieving monkeys were amusing. A short drive down the hill and with a few near crashes thrown in for good luck, we came to Bali's Park of Culture or something like that. Another let down, there was no statue to be seen anywhere and no-one seemed to have heard of it. Lies I tell you lies! For the next few days, so as to be disappointed no more my Bali, we did little else but surf, stay on the beach and the occasional bit of shopping. Souvenir hunting tack bought, we tested our new weapons on eachother for some amusement. For the hunted it was not so amusing! Also not amusing was Ryan wrecking 2 boards. The first was a broken nose as big waves landing on solid beach are not beginner waves. The second was because he dived off the board because some fool didn't see him and went right over the top leaving 2 nice 3 inch gashes in the side of the board. Better the board than Ryan.....hope you all agree! As for the swedes. While listening so some live music in a local bar, two pretty girls were introduced to us and of course, like all other travellers they came from Sweden. All good until Ryan found out that they were working. Actually working while at the bar and yet they weren't doing much. Turns out they were being paid to get travellers into the bar as promo girls and if they weren't being paid probably wouldn't have looked twice at us. A tear jerking story we think you'll agree....infact can you hear those tiny little violins?
Finally out of Bali we arrived in Ramsey Street, Melbourne. Well not quite, infact not at all as the next week was just so busy, it was impossible for us to meet our award winning actors and heroes. I know, what scandal coming all this way and not meeting Toadie, Harold or even better Elle. It just means we'll have to come back another time. What a shame!!! Pint on Punt was our home for the week and our first taste of dorm accomodation. The couple sleeping below Ryan made sure we got little sleep and the mess made the Kaosan Road in Bangkok look orderly and organised. Not to worry though as we spent the first 4 days perched under umbrellas in Albert Park, on Turn 9. This just happened to be where most of the cars competing in the Australian ING Formula 1 Grand Prix, spun off or crashed into the gravel trap. However, we were not under umbrellas for the reason those of you at still at home are using them. We were hiding from the blistering 40 degree heat and the deadly amount of sweat inducing sun! Seriously too much of a good thing can be bad. Anyway 4 days and hours of racing over, the Grand Prix was finished with King Lewi taking the honours on the top step of the podium and devastatingly neither Ferarri even finished, we took to the track! Walking all the way to the pit lane with tens of thousands of other petrol heads was pretty cool but that was just the beginning. The sneaky fox that he is, Ryan nipped in behind the security guard while he wasn't looking,into a no entry area. Camera at the ready he snapped for all he's worth delving deeper into lorries and stacks of tyres. It wasn't until he saw the rear of the Renault garage that he finally realised he had managed to sneak his way into the F1 paddock where not even the Grandstand or corporate ticket holders are allowed to go. And he did this semi naked! In an endeavour to make himself more respectable it was back on with the sweat laden t-shirt and time to put down his F1 memorabilia of a F sign that marked the Fire hydrants! Sauntering down the paddock he came across Ferarri technical bosses in the middle of their debrief. Quick photo there. Next was the McLaren and Ferarri garages. Another quick snap. Then Parc Ferme. Tight security as the cars were under scrutiny and much security but definitely worth another photo. Then there was a mass of cameras and media swarming round a few blokes. Lets go and check this out. Turned out to be none other than the podium winners. This lead to Ryan developing RSI in his index finger from all his picture taking. He then managed to sneak his way up past the more security, camera men and interviewers to badger old Lewi for an autograph, and of course the gentleman that he is, wouldn't let a fan down even f they were wearing a red Ferarri hat! Souvenirs and autographs collected it was time to get back to the wee man and rock on with Gene Simmons and Kiss. Entertainment at its finest. Even at 60 odd they put on a good show. At the concert, apart from Gene and the boys entertainment, we just happened to bump into Arvi again. After meeting him on the plane going to Bali, then bumping into him again in Kuta centre we thought we were going to opposite sides of Australia. Turns out he decided to change his tickets and go to the GP. Out of the 80,000 people that we could have sat beside at the concert, it just happened to be him! Hilarious at the time. We just want to say that the Melbourne GP was so much more than F1 and well worth our 40 quid tickets! Aerial displays, GT,V8,Carrera Cup,Aussie and celbrity racing, along with stunt riders, theme park rides,numerous displays and historic rallys meant something was always happening and it actually was a whole days entertainment everyday. Silverstone could learn a thing or two.
The next few days in Melbourne were spent trying to squeeze in the cities many sights. Like trying to squeeze a camel through the eye of a needle it was never going to happen even if it turned out that the Neighbours tour was booked out days in adavance. Still the Melbourne Cricket Ground, Melbourne National Museum and Eureka skytower were well worth seeing and definitely worth the money. Melbourne is such a great city for all of you struggling for inspiration for your next holiday destination. Cafes, bars and restaurants line the streets. Sport is everywhere and the city caters for tourists really well with info everywhere, free tourist buses, excellent public transport and loads of things to see and do. Bangkok may be a great city but I couldn't live there, Melbourne though I definitely could.
It also happened to be good old St. Paddy's day while we were there and a great excuse for the city to continue it's F1 party. Pint on Punt was a mass of green and the Irish were out in force. Of course it was fun but the next day was pretty quiet for most people!
Think that is most things covered now. We've wasted more than enough time already on this but thankfully no money this time. We are actually now in Hastings, New Zealand living with Gavin for a few days before we get a hostel sorted. New Zealand has been great so far, obviously very beautiful but best of all is seeing Gav again. It must be love, love, love........
Hope you all have a good Easter and remember us in our eggless strife. Love you all
Well that's just about everything for the past 2 weeks so...
The End
Kind of like a movie trailer, we tell you all the good bits so you have the general idea and don't need to waste time or money reading the rest of it. However like all great Spielbergs, or Peter Jacksons now that we are in hobbit land, we endevour to go beyond the main headlines of each journey and indulge your senses on the rest of our exploits over the past two weeks.
Can't believe it was 2 weeks ago we did the last blog, it's such a chore but that's how much we love you.............
Anyways onwards, I say, onwards!!!!
We left you on the cliff hanger that was Bali's Nyepi festival. Bloody cock fights, crazy music, huge parade floats, drinks with our friend Arvi from the plane and then nothing for a whole day.....partaaayyyyyy. To celebrate the end of this party....we took to our 125cc beasts and sped round the island looking for believe it or not, the tallest statue in the world! Like all great Asian countries, the Balinese locals seemed to have never encountered a map before so finding the worlds largest statue was no easy task even on an island as small as Bali. After ignoring locals who pointed on the map for us to drive our scooters over the South China Sea, we found Ulu Watu temple, on top of some dover like, white cliffs. Disappointing after coming from the temples and culture of Bangkok but the thieving monkeys were amusing. A short drive down the hill and with a few near crashes thrown in for good luck, we came to Bali's Park of Culture or something like that. Another let down, there was no statue to be seen anywhere and no-one seemed to have heard of it. Lies I tell you lies! For the next few days, so as to be disappointed no more my Bali, we did little else but surf, stay on the beach and the occasional bit of shopping. Souvenir hunting tack bought, we tested our new weapons on eachother for some amusement. For the hunted it was not so amusing! Also not amusing was Ryan wrecking 2 boards. The first was a broken nose as big waves landing on solid beach are not beginner waves. The second was because he dived off the board because some fool didn't see him and went right over the top leaving 2 nice 3 inch gashes in the side of the board. Better the board than Ryan.....hope you all agree! As for the swedes. While listening so some live music in a local bar, two pretty girls were introduced to us and of course, like all other travellers they came from Sweden. All good until Ryan found out that they were working. Actually working while at the bar and yet they weren't doing much. Turns out they were being paid to get travellers into the bar as promo girls and if they weren't being paid probably wouldn't have looked twice at us. A tear jerking story we think you'll agree....infact can you hear those tiny little violins?
Finally out of Bali we arrived in Ramsey Street, Melbourne. Well not quite, infact not at all as the next week was just so busy, it was impossible for us to meet our award winning actors and heroes. I know, what scandal coming all this way and not meeting Toadie, Harold or even better Elle. It just means we'll have to come back another time. What a shame!!! Pint on Punt was our home for the week and our first taste of dorm accomodation. The couple sleeping below Ryan made sure we got little sleep and the mess made the Kaosan Road in Bangkok look orderly and organised. Not to worry though as we spent the first 4 days perched under umbrellas in Albert Park, on Turn 9. This just happened to be where most of the cars competing in the Australian ING Formula 1 Grand Prix, spun off or crashed into the gravel trap. However, we were not under umbrellas for the reason those of you at still at home are using them. We were hiding from the blistering 40 degree heat and the deadly amount of sweat inducing sun! Seriously too much of a good thing can be bad. Anyway 4 days and hours of racing over, the Grand Prix was finished with King Lewi taking the honours on the top step of the podium and devastatingly neither Ferarri even finished, we took to the track! Walking all the way to the pit lane with tens of thousands of other petrol heads was pretty cool but that was just the beginning. The sneaky fox that he is, Ryan nipped in behind the security guard while he wasn't looking,into a no entry area. Camera at the ready he snapped for all he's worth delving deeper into lorries and stacks of tyres. It wasn't until he saw the rear of the Renault garage that he finally realised he had managed to sneak his way into the F1 paddock where not even the Grandstand or corporate ticket holders are allowed to go. And he did this semi naked! In an endeavour to make himself more respectable it was back on with the sweat laden t-shirt and time to put down his F1 memorabilia of a F sign that marked the Fire hydrants! Sauntering down the paddock he came across Ferarri technical bosses in the middle of their debrief. Quick photo there. Next was the McLaren and Ferarri garages. Another quick snap. Then Parc Ferme. Tight security as the cars were under scrutiny and much security but definitely worth another photo. Then there was a mass of cameras and media swarming round a few blokes. Lets go and check this out. Turned out to be none other than the podium winners. This lead to Ryan developing RSI in his index finger from all his picture taking. He then managed to sneak his way up past the more security, camera men and interviewers to badger old Lewi for an autograph, and of course the gentleman that he is, wouldn't let a fan down even f they were wearing a red Ferarri hat! Souvenirs and autographs collected it was time to get back to the wee man and rock on with Gene Simmons and Kiss. Entertainment at its finest. Even at 60 odd they put on a good show. At the concert, apart from Gene and the boys entertainment, we just happened to bump into Arvi again. After meeting him on the plane going to Bali, then bumping into him again in Kuta centre we thought we were going to opposite sides of Australia. Turns out he decided to change his tickets and go to the GP. Out of the 80,000 people that we could have sat beside at the concert, it just happened to be him! Hilarious at the time. We just want to say that the Melbourne GP was so much more than F1 and well worth our 40 quid tickets! Aerial displays, GT,V8,Carrera Cup,Aussie and celbrity racing, along with stunt riders, theme park rides,numerous displays and historic rallys meant something was always happening and it actually was a whole days entertainment everyday. Silverstone could learn a thing or two.
The next few days in Melbourne were spent trying to squeeze in the cities many sights. Like trying to squeeze a camel through the eye of a needle it was never going to happen even if it turned out that the Neighbours tour was booked out days in adavance. Still the Melbourne Cricket Ground, Melbourne National Museum and Eureka skytower were well worth seeing and definitely worth the money. Melbourne is such a great city for all of you struggling for inspiration for your next holiday destination. Cafes, bars and restaurants line the streets. Sport is everywhere and the city caters for tourists really well with info everywhere, free tourist buses, excellent public transport and loads of things to see and do. Bangkok may be a great city but I couldn't live there, Melbourne though I definitely could.
It also happened to be good old St. Paddy's day while we were there and a great excuse for the city to continue it's F1 party. Pint on Punt was a mass of green and the Irish were out in force. Of course it was fun but the next day was pretty quiet for most people!
Think that is most things covered now. We've wasted more than enough time already on this but thankfully no money this time. We are actually now in Hastings, New Zealand living with Gavin for a few days before we get a hostel sorted. New Zealand has been great so far, obviously very beautiful but best of all is seeing Gav again. It must be love, love, love........
Hope you all have a good Easter and remember us in our eggless strife. Love you all
Sunday, 9 March 2008
Bangkok to Bali
Well we're back and within the week as promised. What can we say, lost without Adam, our travelling buddy from Newquay and with night fall making surfing suicidal if not impossible, we have nothing better to do than inform you lot back home of our latest enterprises. To be honest, Bali, our current home from home, has plenty more to offer but we would rather share our love and spend time communcating with all our little darlings back in the emerald isle.
So the story continues. We left you, like all good soaps and most favorably, Neighbours, in the middle of the drama that is Chiang Mai, Northern Thailand. A beautiful area with loads to offer we once again took to the skies in our trusty scooters and explored. Mountain top temples, walled ancient ruins and boiling hot springs which stink badly of eggs (possibly because some lady was cooking her dinner in it, following cooking instruction on the large sign overhead) where a few of Chiang Mai's delights but maybe the most enjoyable and certainly the most passionate was Muay Thai. Thai's love this ancient combative sport (very like kick boxing) more than their mothers and even more than their dear old King Rama IX. Like blood thirsty feinds we cheered on what must have been boys of 8 years old, women and international boxers as they literally beat eachother to the floor. We wouldn't be ashamed to lose to any of them in the ring.
From Muay Thai and Chang Mai we journeyed forthward to the town of Lampang and the largest Elephant Conservation centre in Asia, I think. Anyway a 30minute ride numbed our bottoms sufficiently for us to not realise the chaffage we were enduring. Gladly off the elephants we enjoyed much more the elephant bath and show. Actualy these 3 ton creatures would make Ryan look ungainly and just plain stupid. Well thats not saying much but really, balancing on logs, lifting and stacking them precisely, painting pictures, playing musical instruments badly and sitting and rolling over like any well trained rover, these animals should really be mans best friend and more houses should have stables rather than kennels.
The ancient ruins and still bustling city of Ayutthaya/Ayudhya/Aythaya..... it doesn't matter how you spell it (no formal translation as yet from Thai lettering to Roman script hence numerous spellings for the same place,very confusing), we still managed to get there albeit at about 4am or so. Sleeping in train stations is not easy with the hustlers, and trains, and sirens, and national anthems etc etc....but when you sleep like a sloath or better still Ryan, anywhere and everywhere is a king size bed. Rising Ryan from his slumber like the fair maiden snow white, or truthfully with his new gun, Rory got the day started and on our push bikes, we visited huge khmer style praangs, gleaming chedi, huge golden buddha in the subduing mara position, and ancient stone heads enveloped by centuries old trees. (Read up on Buddhist architecture to know what we're talking about, actually pretty interesting) With his unquenchable thirst for all things cultural and educational, Ryan marched on under the literal in every sense of the word, blistering midday sun and did the old man dad stuff of museums and the like. For anyone who is interested, he not only saw loads of really old and beautiful carvings etc but also Buddhas relics. Story has it that these relics appeared out of thin air before one of the early, very powerful rulers of the Ayutthaya empire as he stared out of his bedroom window. They are 1/3 the size of a grain of rice and look like amber beads. More inpressive is the boxes they were stored in. Like those chinese dolls that all fit inside eachother except made from stone, silver, bronze, gold and diamonds. Truly beautiful and like much of the city just breathtaking.
Anyways you're not here to learn about culture and become more and more jealous of our adventures. We know you too well. So a little mushy gossip. Well in Chiang Mai Ryan crashed his scooter. As well as sneaking his way into different temples (the locals don't have to pay and i'm just trying to fit in) he managed to super glue his bike back together and escape without any fine. Also Rory has had more than his fair share of offers from the ladies, especially when he's away off cruising late at night on his scooter. No surprise there really, hes an attractive man but each time the date would have been quite expensive and thats not including dinner!
Back to Bangkok then. A bit of a rush as we had passports to collect and this was our last chance before flying out to Bali the next day. Celebrated our return to Bangkok in style paying another visit to our good friend Mr Tesco before tramping around some of the huge shopping centres Bangkok has to offer and finish off with a good bit of culture in the local cinema. Actualy there is culture to be found here as before every movie or public showing of some kind, the audience are once again "reminded" of how great their King is and all the great things he's done. To say that they revere him would be the best way to put it, but at times it really made me question if it was Buddha or the king that they worshipped. As for the movie, in possibly the most grand and luxurious screen we've ever seen we settled down to enjoy "The Mist". Stephen King has made another great with possibly the best ending ever to a movie. Well worth watching although definitely not by pirate DVD as Rory has come to learn. More on that shortly.
Flights to Bali were.....safe and for all plane spotters reading, we saw the only 2 presently working Airbus A380s (biggest passenger aeroplanes in the world) as Mark Mulligan, ultimate knowledge in this field has informed us.
Bali greeted us with wide open party arms. Australias version of Ibiza, Bintang flows constantly, taxis are always on the prowl beeping their horns and getting a good nights sleep is pretty hard unless your the sleeping professional otherwise known as Ryan. The biggest draw to Bali though is it's world renown surf. More scooterage action and hiring of surf boards left our pockets drained of dosh but worse was yet to come. Twice over Ryan was not given his money by ATMs and then the next morning he broke his board while tackling some of the monster waves off Kuta beach. Let us add that these are the beginner waves and nearly always topping 6 ft, it's gnarly dude! Other "highlights" include the Nyepi festival that we had to endure. What's wrong with the Hindu celebrations, cock fights in the streets, amazing music aand large parades we hear you cry. The flipping day afterwards and not because of any Bintang induced headaches like most other people on this island. Nyepi is the Balinese New Year festival and they "celebrate" this by spending the whole next day locked inside doing NNNOOOTTHHIINNGG. This is so that the evil spirits visit Bali and think the place is a ghost town and leave it alone for another year. Seriously, no lights allowed on, no shops and not even any surf!!!! This give us the chance to try Rory's DVDs. Recorded by dodgy video cameras stuck behind other paying customers, this can ruin even the best of movies.
That's about all for now folks. A few more days in Bali before before we jet off to Melbourne, Australia and "revere" our hero Lewis Hamilton. If only he would drive a Ferrari..... Make sure to leave us some comments and come back next time to find out if we've kissed Lewi and made our way on to the extras list of Neighbours!!!
Hugs and Kisses
xoxo
So the story continues. We left you, like all good soaps and most favorably, Neighbours, in the middle of the drama that is Chiang Mai, Northern Thailand. A beautiful area with loads to offer we once again took to the skies in our trusty scooters and explored. Mountain top temples, walled ancient ruins and boiling hot springs which stink badly of eggs (possibly because some lady was cooking her dinner in it, following cooking instruction on the large sign overhead) where a few of Chiang Mai's delights but maybe the most enjoyable and certainly the most passionate was Muay Thai. Thai's love this ancient combative sport (very like kick boxing) more than their mothers and even more than their dear old King Rama IX. Like blood thirsty feinds we cheered on what must have been boys of 8 years old, women and international boxers as they literally beat eachother to the floor. We wouldn't be ashamed to lose to any of them in the ring.
From Muay Thai and Chang Mai we journeyed forthward to the town of Lampang and the largest Elephant Conservation centre in Asia, I think. Anyway a 30minute ride numbed our bottoms sufficiently for us to not realise the chaffage we were enduring. Gladly off the elephants we enjoyed much more the elephant bath and show. Actualy these 3 ton creatures would make Ryan look ungainly and just plain stupid. Well thats not saying much but really, balancing on logs, lifting and stacking them precisely, painting pictures, playing musical instruments badly and sitting and rolling over like any well trained rover, these animals should really be mans best friend and more houses should have stables rather than kennels.
The ancient ruins and still bustling city of Ayutthaya/Ayudhya/Aythaya..... it doesn't matter how you spell it (no formal translation as yet from Thai lettering to Roman script hence numerous spellings for the same place,very confusing), we still managed to get there albeit at about 4am or so. Sleeping in train stations is not easy with the hustlers, and trains, and sirens, and national anthems etc etc....but when you sleep like a sloath or better still Ryan, anywhere and everywhere is a king size bed. Rising Ryan from his slumber like the fair maiden snow white, or truthfully with his new gun, Rory got the day started and on our push bikes, we visited huge khmer style praangs, gleaming chedi, huge golden buddha in the subduing mara position, and ancient stone heads enveloped by centuries old trees. (Read up on Buddhist architecture to know what we're talking about, actually pretty interesting) With his unquenchable thirst for all things cultural and educational, Ryan marched on under the literal in every sense of the word, blistering midday sun and did the old man dad stuff of museums and the like. For anyone who is interested, he not only saw loads of really old and beautiful carvings etc but also Buddhas relics. Story has it that these relics appeared out of thin air before one of the early, very powerful rulers of the Ayutthaya empire as he stared out of his bedroom window. They are 1/3 the size of a grain of rice and look like amber beads. More inpressive is the boxes they were stored in. Like those chinese dolls that all fit inside eachother except made from stone, silver, bronze, gold and diamonds. Truly beautiful and like much of the city just breathtaking.
Anyways you're not here to learn about culture and become more and more jealous of our adventures. We know you too well. So a little mushy gossip. Well in Chiang Mai Ryan crashed his scooter. As well as sneaking his way into different temples (the locals don't have to pay and i'm just trying to fit in) he managed to super glue his bike back together and escape without any fine. Also Rory has had more than his fair share of offers from the ladies, especially when he's away off cruising late at night on his scooter. No surprise there really, hes an attractive man but each time the date would have been quite expensive and thats not including dinner!
Back to Bangkok then. A bit of a rush as we had passports to collect and this was our last chance before flying out to Bali the next day. Celebrated our return to Bangkok in style paying another visit to our good friend Mr Tesco before tramping around some of the huge shopping centres Bangkok has to offer and finish off with a good bit of culture in the local cinema. Actualy there is culture to be found here as before every movie or public showing of some kind, the audience are once again "reminded" of how great their King is and all the great things he's done. To say that they revere him would be the best way to put it, but at times it really made me question if it was Buddha or the king that they worshipped. As for the movie, in possibly the most grand and luxurious screen we've ever seen we settled down to enjoy "The Mist". Stephen King has made another great with possibly the best ending ever to a movie. Well worth watching although definitely not by pirate DVD as Rory has come to learn. More on that shortly.
Flights to Bali were.....safe and for all plane spotters reading, we saw the only 2 presently working Airbus A380s (biggest passenger aeroplanes in the world) as Mark Mulligan, ultimate knowledge in this field has informed us.
Bali greeted us with wide open party arms. Australias version of Ibiza, Bintang flows constantly, taxis are always on the prowl beeping their horns and getting a good nights sleep is pretty hard unless your the sleeping professional otherwise known as Ryan. The biggest draw to Bali though is it's world renown surf. More scooterage action and hiring of surf boards left our pockets drained of dosh but worse was yet to come. Twice over Ryan was not given his money by ATMs and then the next morning he broke his board while tackling some of the monster waves off Kuta beach. Let us add that these are the beginner waves and nearly always topping 6 ft, it's gnarly dude! Other "highlights" include the Nyepi festival that we had to endure. What's wrong with the Hindu celebrations, cock fights in the streets, amazing music aand large parades we hear you cry. The flipping day afterwards and not because of any Bintang induced headaches like most other people on this island. Nyepi is the Balinese New Year festival and they "celebrate" this by spending the whole next day locked inside doing NNNOOOTTHHIINNGG. This is so that the evil spirits visit Bali and think the place is a ghost town and leave it alone for another year. Seriously, no lights allowed on, no shops and not even any surf!!!! This give us the chance to try Rory's DVDs. Recorded by dodgy video cameras stuck behind other paying customers, this can ruin even the best of movies.
That's about all for now folks. A few more days in Bali before before we jet off to Melbourne, Australia and "revere" our hero Lewis Hamilton. If only he would drive a Ferrari..... Make sure to leave us some comments and come back next time to find out if we've kissed Lewi and made our way on to the extras list of Neighbours!!!
Hugs and Kisses
xoxo
Friday, 29 February 2008
Sa wat dit from Thailand. How you have survived this long without a dollop of fresh blog to pour over I just don't know but we're glad that you have made it back so i can waste some more of your time.
Previously on The Long Way To Milford Sound.......
Rory and Ryan arrived in Singapore where Ryan through up and lost his wallet. Rory relaxed in the warm waters and golden sands of Pulau Tioman in southern Malaysia. After joining forces with two other intrepid travellers they bused it all the way to the Twin Towers and grimey streets of Kuala Lumpar. From here they made their way to Melaka where Rory flexed his Backgammon muscles and showed Malaysia what us Irish Backgammoners are made of. A twisty road to the Cameron Highlands lay ahead of them, where cool clean air was a welcome change. From here they part company with their newest of friends and delve deep into the virgin forests of Taman Negara and its abundance of Bat poop. Only the prospect of the worlds finest snorkeling and perfect beaches could pull them away from there poop lined palace in the woods and the Perhentians didn't disappoint.
Where do we go now i hear you murmur under stifled breath? Well since that was about 2 weeks ago now, i can answer your burning questions and supply you with our latest fix of travel induced gossip.
The boarder into Thailand was only a short bus journey away. Surprisingly easily and without any questions regarding drugs we entered this ancient Kingdom where H.M. King Rama IX held in highest esteem. As we stared out the window or leant out the doorways of our train heading up to the islands, one of thew first things we noticed was huge pictures and shrines dedicated to the King and his wife. In every building and almost every room there is a picture of him hanging on the walls. On street corners and roundabouts he stares at you daring you to accidentally step on some money. This is a criminal offence as you are standing on a picture of his face if you do and punishable by a long time in a Bangkok jail.
Arriving at 3am in Chumphon, we found a boat that would take us and tens of other passengers to Turtle Island, Koh Tao. The smallest of the famous southern islands, its main business is scuba diving. Stories say that the island is called Turtle island because it looks like one but we can tell you now, my big toe looks more like a turtle. More likely is the fact that is used to be a turtle breeding ground but unfortunately no longer. Once King RamaIV came herey tourism followed and i doubt they were so kind as we are today to the poor old turtles. Anyway less history and more gossip i hear you scream. Well we have a replacement BBF in the form of another english man named Adam. Big guy with a crazy accent he's a barrel of laughs. Especially while on a scooter. For 4 quid each we had the hire of a scooter each for the day and the fact that we are not currently mourning over one of us at the minute is a miracle. On hearing that my 100cc Yamaha Mio could not handle the "roads" to the north of the island i could never back down from a challenge and so in the pitch dark me and bubs headed north. Needless to say we made it, me and bubs owned Koh Tao! Snorkeling was a bit of a let down but chillaxing on the beach and swimming was island life as it should be. Oh by the way, rumours may be circulating of a certain person being involved in a little whoopsie. I can now lay those rumours to rest and confirm that yes, Mr Rory Charles Eves was a casualty of a horrific crash which resulted in major lacerations to his arms and considerable damage to his poor bike. Well at least thats what the lady we rented the bikes from seems to think. Though really all was fine and dandy.,
Wallet lighter and arm patched up we made the monthly migration to Koh Pha-nagn for the internationally acclaimed beach party, The Full Moon Party. Once there though a helpful, and believe me you can't say that about all the taxi drivers over here, informed us that the FMP had changed date and we were far too early. With a tight schedule already we decided to cut our losses and save ourselves from a night of beach party scandal and antics and head straight up to Bangkok.
Jumping back in the boat we came on and then a good long bus journey later, we arrived in the unhealthily early morning, in the hustle and bustle of Thai Capital. Immediately Tuk-Tuk drivers smelt fresh blood, or just fat western wallets and badgered us to get in their 3 wheeled limousines. Refraining from the money sapping tuk-tuks, we trapsed our way through the alleys of Bangkok to find our humble abode, Riverview Guest House. OK we were close to the river, but really, a concrete wall 5m infront of our window does not count as a Riverview. 2 beds and a floor were appreciated though and it was awfully clean for a change.
While Adam slept off a bit of travellers belly etc (try not to picture that) Rory and I ventured into Bangkok to make the most of our few days in this great city. For some reason, we got in to a Tuk-Tuk that took us sight seeing around Bangkok. Well that was a bad idea. Not only did Kwong Lee take us to the worst Wats (Buddhist Temples) the city has to offer, he also is paid to take us places we have no desire on going to. To be fair to him though, the Thai and foot massage that he took us to was superb and just what you need after only 2 hours sleep in the last 2 days or so. The following days was spent exploring more of the city's better temples which were literally breathtaking. So big the camera could barely squeeze it all in to one photo, and so beautiful that no camera would ever do the justice. The Grand Palace and a few museums for extra culture ate up another few hours but maybe a highlight although awfully short, was meeting Rory's old man half way round the world! I'm beginning to realise after days on trains and buses just how big the world is but seeing someone from home again made it all feel so small. In all the world,we just happen to be in the same city at the same time. Another gem of Bangkok, at least this one isn't a fake like the rest in Bangkok, was the Evangelical Church of Bangkok. "Good mornin' ECBBBBBBBB" by cheesy American Pastors was almost as entertaining as the movie "Jumper" that we saw afterwards although the church service was probably a bit more worthwhile. Hearing about some of the work the church was involved with in the city was really moving. Although the penalties for being in possession of drugs here are massive, Bangkok still suffers from major drugs problems.
After 4 days of hustling, lady boys, bartering and Tuk-Tuks, we were more than ready to get out of Bangkok and head up to Chiang Mai where we are currently today. Totally different to the 24hour madness of Bangkok, Chiang Mai is all about elephants and mountains. For now though, thats all you're going to know. Hopefully the next update is not so far away but time is money (about 30p an hour for internet). Oh before i say my farewells, a young gentleman asked about the food here. For someone who is such a fan of stuffing my face i am ashamed that i have bot mentioned it earlier. Generally because we are poor travellers we stick to good old Chicken rice or Chicken noodles. Infact so popular are these dishes amongst poor travellers that chicken Pad Thai (noodles) is synonymous among all travellers and sometimes the only Thai travellers would ever remember. On feeling ignorant and embarrassed about my lack of language skills i am doing my best to pick up handy phrases and always keen to tantalise my pallet with new dishes. Of course though, western food is everywhere although much more expensive. Thai and Malay food is spicy and so much more tasty than our bland rubbish back home. That is why i hope to do a cookery class and wow you all back home with my Asian cuisine and acrobatic use of chop sticks. We'll see about that.
That's all folks. Hope your thirsts for worldly knowledge are quenched, your hunger for mindless ramblings of a traveller satisfied and your burning ears overloaded with gossip from your favourite, former pasty white Irish friends, Rory and Ryan.
xoxo
Previously on The Long Way To Milford Sound.......
Rory and Ryan arrived in Singapore where Ryan through up and lost his wallet. Rory relaxed in the warm waters and golden sands of Pulau Tioman in southern Malaysia. After joining forces with two other intrepid travellers they bused it all the way to the Twin Towers and grimey streets of Kuala Lumpar. From here they made their way to Melaka where Rory flexed his Backgammon muscles and showed Malaysia what us Irish Backgammoners are made of. A twisty road to the Cameron Highlands lay ahead of them, where cool clean air was a welcome change. From here they part company with their newest of friends and delve deep into the virgin forests of Taman Negara and its abundance of Bat poop. Only the prospect of the worlds finest snorkeling and perfect beaches could pull them away from there poop lined palace in the woods and the Perhentians didn't disappoint.
Where do we go now i hear you murmur under stifled breath? Well since that was about 2 weeks ago now, i can answer your burning questions and supply you with our latest fix of travel induced gossip.
The boarder into Thailand was only a short bus journey away. Surprisingly easily and without any questions regarding drugs we entered this ancient Kingdom where H.M. King Rama IX held in highest esteem. As we stared out the window or leant out the doorways of our train heading up to the islands, one of thew first things we noticed was huge pictures and shrines dedicated to the King and his wife. In every building and almost every room there is a picture of him hanging on the walls. On street corners and roundabouts he stares at you daring you to accidentally step on some money. This is a criminal offence as you are standing on a picture of his face if you do and punishable by a long time in a Bangkok jail.
Arriving at 3am in Chumphon, we found a boat that would take us and tens of other passengers to Turtle Island, Koh Tao. The smallest of the famous southern islands, its main business is scuba diving. Stories say that the island is called Turtle island because it looks like one but we can tell you now, my big toe looks more like a turtle. More likely is the fact that is used to be a turtle breeding ground but unfortunately no longer. Once King RamaIV came herey tourism followed and i doubt they were so kind as we are today to the poor old turtles. Anyway less history and more gossip i hear you scream. Well we have a replacement BBF in the form of another english man named Adam. Big guy with a crazy accent he's a barrel of laughs. Especially while on a scooter. For 4 quid each we had the hire of a scooter each for the day and the fact that we are not currently mourning over one of us at the minute is a miracle. On hearing that my 100cc Yamaha Mio could not handle the "roads" to the north of the island i could never back down from a challenge and so in the pitch dark me and bubs headed north. Needless to say we made it, me and bubs owned Koh Tao! Snorkeling was a bit of a let down but chillaxing on the beach and swimming was island life as it should be. Oh by the way, rumours may be circulating of a certain person being involved in a little whoopsie. I can now lay those rumours to rest and confirm that yes, Mr Rory Charles Eves was a casualty of a horrific crash which resulted in major lacerations to his arms and considerable damage to his poor bike. Well at least thats what the lady we rented the bikes from seems to think. Though really all was fine and dandy.,
Wallet lighter and arm patched up we made the monthly migration to Koh Pha-nagn for the internationally acclaimed beach party, The Full Moon Party. Once there though a helpful, and believe me you can't say that about all the taxi drivers over here, informed us that the FMP had changed date and we were far too early. With a tight schedule already we decided to cut our losses and save ourselves from a night of beach party scandal and antics and head straight up to Bangkok.
Jumping back in the boat we came on and then a good long bus journey later, we arrived in the unhealthily early morning, in the hustle and bustle of Thai Capital. Immediately Tuk-Tuk drivers smelt fresh blood, or just fat western wallets and badgered us to get in their 3 wheeled limousines. Refraining from the money sapping tuk-tuks, we trapsed our way through the alleys of Bangkok to find our humble abode, Riverview Guest House. OK we were close to the river, but really, a concrete wall 5m infront of our window does not count as a Riverview. 2 beds and a floor were appreciated though and it was awfully clean for a change.
While Adam slept off a bit of travellers belly etc (try not to picture that) Rory and I ventured into Bangkok to make the most of our few days in this great city. For some reason, we got in to a Tuk-Tuk that took us sight seeing around Bangkok. Well that was a bad idea. Not only did Kwong Lee take us to the worst Wats (Buddhist Temples) the city has to offer, he also is paid to take us places we have no desire on going to. To be fair to him though, the Thai and foot massage that he took us to was superb and just what you need after only 2 hours sleep in the last 2 days or so. The following days was spent exploring more of the city's better temples which were literally breathtaking. So big the camera could barely squeeze it all in to one photo, and so beautiful that no camera would ever do the justice. The Grand Palace and a few museums for extra culture ate up another few hours but maybe a highlight although awfully short, was meeting Rory's old man half way round the world! I'm beginning to realise after days on trains and buses just how big the world is but seeing someone from home again made it all feel so small. In all the world,we just happen to be in the same city at the same time. Another gem of Bangkok, at least this one isn't a fake like the rest in Bangkok, was the Evangelical Church of Bangkok. "Good mornin' ECBBBBBBBB" by cheesy American Pastors was almost as entertaining as the movie "Jumper" that we saw afterwards although the church service was probably a bit more worthwhile. Hearing about some of the work the church was involved with in the city was really moving. Although the penalties for being in possession of drugs here are massive, Bangkok still suffers from major drugs problems.
After 4 days of hustling, lady boys, bartering and Tuk-Tuks, we were more than ready to get out of Bangkok and head up to Chiang Mai where we are currently today. Totally different to the 24hour madness of Bangkok, Chiang Mai is all about elephants and mountains. For now though, thats all you're going to know. Hopefully the next update is not so far away but time is money (about 30p an hour for internet). Oh before i say my farewells, a young gentleman asked about the food here. For someone who is such a fan of stuffing my face i am ashamed that i have bot mentioned it earlier. Generally because we are poor travellers we stick to good old Chicken rice or Chicken noodles. Infact so popular are these dishes amongst poor travellers that chicken Pad Thai (noodles) is synonymous among all travellers and sometimes the only Thai travellers would ever remember. On feeling ignorant and embarrassed about my lack of language skills i am doing my best to pick up handy phrases and always keen to tantalise my pallet with new dishes. Of course though, western food is everywhere although much more expensive. Thai and Malay food is spicy and so much more tasty than our bland rubbish back home. That is why i hope to do a cookery class and wow you all back home with my Asian cuisine and acrobatic use of chop sticks. We'll see about that.
That's all folks. Hope your thirsts for worldly knowledge are quenched, your hunger for mindless ramblings of a traveller satisfied and your burning ears overloaded with gossip from your favourite, former pasty white Irish friends, Rory and Ryan.
xoxo
Monday, 18 February 2008
Nothern Malaysia
Dear avid readers of this ludicrous blog. It has been two weeks now since our last entry and we are sure that tears have been shed and nails nibbled off in fear that something terrible has happened to us. Well wipe away those tears, put down the box of tissues, cancel the bouquet of flowers for our memorial service and have no fear because we are still here.....just about.
Much has happened in the last two weeks and we hope you can understand that when you are in the middle of the oldest jungle in the world, or marooned on an island paradise, the lesser spotted humble computer is not so easily found. So please accept our apologies and enjoy the next few minutes of life wasted reading this slop.
We left you after having just arrived in the melting pot of cultures and home to the best guest house in the world (Emily's incase you're ever in the area), in the rich Port of Melaka. It turned out to be rather uneventful. No wallets were lost and no horrible cases of sunburn to report. Infact our stay was fairly relaxed and enjoyable. Maybe the most interesting thing was spending Chinese New Year here in the middle of Melaka's Chinatown. Celebrating the year of the rat was really only an excuse for the locals to shop a bit more in the street stalls that stayed open long into the night. For Ryan, it was an excuse to sneak a photo with the Megastars of Malaysian pop ( don't ask us who they were) and also meet Governor of the area who was able to fill us in on the latest Irish rugby matches. Apparantly we beat Italy, hallelujah! A quick run around the museums was disappointing but thankfully a BBQ at Emily's was a great send off.
Arriving in the Cameron Highlands a few days later than expected due to the chaos caused by the hoardes of locals travelling during this popular public holiday, left us with no cheap hostel and instead squeezing 4 of us into a small room. Sleeping on the floor, although good for your back, is not a pleasant experience when sharing it with bugs and roaches. The following morning welcomed us with a refreshing cool breeze thanks to areas height above sea level. Maps of the area are to say the least tradgic but the sights are worth stumbling through the jungles and tea plantations to see. These were to be our last days together with our new found BFF. While Stuart and Phil had a guided tour of the surrounding area, we decided to venture on a discover the worlds oldest rainforest, Taman Negara.
After hours spents whizzing through the mountains in our mini bus we finally reached the town of Kuala Tahan, gateway to the National Park. A few days was spent exploring the long hot trails through the 13 million year old virgin rainforest (according to some scientists), fending off fruit bats flying straight at our faces as we delved deep into their guana lined caves, walking amongst the birds and animals of the forest canopy as we followed bridges 50m high and spying wildlife through the dense jungle leaves. Our accommodation was a jungle hide set beside a salt lick that promises to attract a variety of wildlife. Although the jungle is apparantly inhabited by Tigers, Elephants, snakes and rare Tapirs, we knew it was highly unlikely that we would see any of these. However we did see a giraffe sipping tea with a polar bear in the back of a london bus on a casual drive through the forest....... I think that would have been more likely. How anyone is meant to see anything in the dead of night, through the thick jungle branches and smelling as bad as we did covered in bat poop, I don't know. The lack of wildlife vouerism was made even worse by the beds provided in the hides. Hardwood bunk beds with not a bit of padding. Ah well what else should we expect really. Another lesson learnt in the forest is that Ryan truly is an incompetent boob. After deciding to cool off and wash some of the sweat and poo off in the idyllic river, he managed to drop his camera into the drink. Thankfully no damage done but it remains to be seen how long he can carry on being such an idiot and avoid any major consequences. Rory is left in charge of tickets, keys and any other important artefacts at all times from now on.
Anyway a long boat was our escape from the forest. From here is was a full day and a half travel to our next getaway, the Perhentian Islands. Famed for their crystal clear water, beautiful beaches and outstanding marine life, we were not left disappointed. Snorkelling with black tip reef sharks, huge green turtles and having peeling skin nibbled off you by shoals of tropical fish so brightly coloured that they could only be dreamt up in a certain Disney Pixar movie was an unforgettable experience. Only Ryan could ruin it by miss-calculating his money and how long it would last. Purse strings were tightened and after a hunt round the island we found someone willing to exchange our US Dollars. The sun also managed to leave us with more lines and more stripey than a zebra as our sun cream coverage was not particularly effective. Still much chillaxing done which was required after our past few days strenuous exploration.
From here we venture into Thailand and onto the famous Southern Islands with their huge parties before landing in Bangkok and the Northern city of Chang Mai. But thats another story as we're not quite there yet. Anyway much love from us both and we hope you enjoy our photos. Please feel free to keep in contact, make some suggestions and comments are always welcome.
Adios-amigos
Rory & Ryan xoxo
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