Turtle time

View from the room

That good old travel disappointment started to kick in again as we prepared for the expect mess up with our accommodation for the beach. We had booked four nights on Agoda for a resort a few months out from our trip and about a month after the booking we got an email saying that we couldn't have the first night, as they were full (in other words they sold rooms to Agoda that they didn't even have). So we rocked up to turtle bay resort (literally, the road was the worst thing ever, huge pot holes) expecting for them to send us to their sister hotel), however, to our relief they checked us into a great room overlooking the ocean as we had originally tried to book for the full four night, and relieved, we hit the beach for a beer.

For about 5 minutes. We thought it was all over, we were safely checked in to our room, nothing could go wrong now - until he manage came to see use. Turns out we did have to move (pissed us off too, after having told them the situation at check in) but luckily someone had  not turned up, so we just had to move into a downstairs room rather than down the road.

After the messy beginning with the hotel we tried to clear the slate and enjoy the isolation. The beach was empty, other than a way up a small fishing spot where the men pulled in nets for hours on end and surfed small boats in through the rough waves. There were only 7 rooms in the hotel and we often felt as if we were the only people around, we could see down the entire bay from our second room upstairs (from night two) and it was a truly an amazing place.


'Chef', as he became known, would come out after dinner each night and check we were happy with our meals. Luckily the food was pretty tasty overall, they even did a Sri Lankan breakfast for us on our last day as per our request (Sri Lankan breakfast is sooooo good - currys, hoppers and all sorts of tasty treats.... Including coconut sambol - fresh chilli, lime juice and coconut, all ground together).

Then there was the night the power went out, we had a SWARM of bugs attack the restaurant followed by dinner and wine by candle light. Free wine of course. The staff seemed very concerned that the guests were going to be upset by it all, but I think most of us seemed to have no worries. Given the isolation it is not surprising. It also gave us more time to chat with Fran and David, the semi-retired poms we had made acquaintances with. The only problem with having no power was it also meant no air con.... Not such an easy heat to sleep in, even with a few cocktails behind us.

Spike and Gayan looking down the lagoon

Temple

Our second to last day at Turtle Bay we went for a little look around the area with a local tuk tuk driver, Gayan. And he was fantastic. He was enthusiastic, cheerful and informative. We were told the story again of the young Sri Lankans who drink and fight, this time related to the fishermen (last time it was cricket fans). We had a look around the fishing village, there were so many boats, mainly the small ones with the outriggers and heaps of tangled nets balled up.

The real point of interest in the stop was where he took us down to the lagoon entrance. Earlier we had visited a pagoda, where Gayan had told us about his tsunami experience and here, in the lagoon, was where he was that day. It was there that he was with his friends when it hit and he was swept down the lagoon 1.5kms. Gayan and his friend were very very lucky to survive that day, and they lost 10 of their friends. He said how it had been in Sri Lanka post the Boxing Day tsunami, and the incredible amount of aid that got everyone back on their feet. Gayan had received a new tuk tuk from the Red Cross, which lead him to where he was today, a 32 year old local tuk tuk driver. It is hard to explain how it feels when you are told a story like that, he told it so matter of fact. For me this reflected how common his situation is around Tangalle. How normal it now seems. Everyone has a story of how they were effected.

He also took us up a rock in the bird sanctuary to look down the lagoon at the water buffalo and to a beautiful temple, where there was both Buddhist and Hindu symbols of worship. It was a beautiful temple, only, some of the painted walls were peeling badly and I don't know how long the images will be remembered. It is always a shame to see deterioration of such historic and special places.

It was sad to be leaving turtle bay, but we knew we had a treat in store once we got to colombo.

And back to colombo we went. A couple of hours in a car and then we were destined for another train ride.  Another frustrating travel moment, where our driver brought us train tickets, and after assuring us many times that he was getting the tickets we asked, for we ended up sweating the next four hours away on a smelly train towards colombo.

All that melted away instantly when we arrived at our hotel. We had a domo, our personal butler.... I think that gives a pretty good idea of the awesomeness that is this boutique hotel. They would make any cocktail you could want and the service was outstanding. I also had a massage here too, and it was much less invasive and nicer than the others we had had in Sri Lanka.

One room of our suite at Casa Colombo

Random fact - the cost of tuk tuk is (in nzd) about $5000, a small as car $17000, not cheap to seat up a driving business in Sri Lanka considering the average household only earns $350 per month.

The Sri Lankan president gave an elephant to Japanese.... Somehow I think he wants something.....

From the hills to the sand

It was a welcome relief to hit a resort for a night in Kandy. The temperatures were no long freezing (we had to get more warm clothes when in the highlands - I basically wore everything I had). As much as I love curry, a plate of French fries went down a treat. The view was amazing, and it was a shame we only had one night here. We looked out over the mountains from our free upgraded suite and shared our lovely large deck with the monkeys (giving spike a hell of a fright to open the curtains to one). It was time for some book time by the pool and a massage or two.

They had a lovely traditional ayrveda centre in the hotel so we nipped in for an afternoon massage and some reflexology the following morning. The massage was, interesting, I can't say it is a type of massage I would fully recommend. There was a bit of pinching invovled... The reflexology was great though.

Though we didn't do anything really, not even a trip to the Buddhas tooth relic, it was still a great night relaxing and been attended to. Finally I started reading my first book of the trip too!

The next afternoon we hit the evening train back to Colombo. We were a bit late booking and got the last two first class seats (well worth it for the air on etc), so we sat apart for this journey. Luckily it was only a bit over 2.5 hrs, so went by in a blink. We then needed to get down to Galle fort from Colombo. Our travel wits weren't the best and we ended up ripped off big time after negotiating the price with the "boss"of the taxi company before hand and the driver not following through during the journey. We were so tired, and it wasnt worth the fight over $15. All the same probably the most bitter taste Sri Lanka had left in our mouths to date.

Yet again though our faith was restored once we got to Galle and met Ravi. Another fantastic guesthouse owner. Him and his parents kept the place immaculate and he even remembered my pineapple allergy and served other fruits for breakfast. Ravi was cheerful, friendly and a great guy to chat with. Plus spike was pretty happy that he made a decent coffee too!

In Galle we took a trip down to Unawatuna beach, one which got badly hit during the Boxing Day tsunami and is now crawling with tourists. The beach loungers are so packed in front of the bars and restaurants that the water literally laps at the end of them. Nice beach though all the same, even if the waves were pretty rough for swimming. Our tuk tuk back was driven by an ex under 19 Sri Lankan cricket player - loved the sport and was stoaked to share all the big name players he had met while on the bench at the World Cup. The Sri Lankan players were practising to right by the road for the following days test match, which was cool and required a quick photo stop.

We followed this up with a sunset stroll around the fort walls. From here we could see the cricket stadium and coastline. It was so so hot, it was hard to get out and about in Galle. At least the shower at ravi's was pretty good as damn it was hot!!

The next morning we had double breakfasts - one at the guesthouse and another Sri Lankan style one down the road. Loaded up with food we headed into the stifling heat for a couple of hours of the first day of the Sri Lanka/Bangladesh cricket match. I had on spikes newly purchased sri lankan cricket tshirt, which attracted a bit attention, as it looked totally ridiculous over my dress. A whole nzd$2 we were in the galle cricket club grandstand, drinking 50c 400ml ginger beers in the crazy heat. It was so hot, we only lasted until they broke for lunch. Great views though, and it is neat to see how they get the locals invovled in helping out with things (e.g. they got a heap of guys to come into the stadium when it looked like rain to prepare to drag the tarps over the pitch). Next we found a car (and some welcome air con) and were off down the coast a couple of hours to the beach for our last few days in Sri Lanka.

It feels like we never left

It has been a hectic two months, with leaving Aussie, moving home and getting married. But in true spirit that didn't stop us getting our travel back on for a whirlwind of a honeymoon to Singapore and Sri Lanka.

A quick stop over in Singapore after a joyful as always (*soul destroying*) jetstar flight, meant for a fantastic night in a great new hotel near the airport. Nothing like a swim to wash away the Singaporean humidity. We squeezed in some great meals (milo on toast anyone?) and a trip to the bay gardens before skipping out for Sri Lanka. We will be back for a few more days on the way home.

It was about now I reassessed jetstar long hall... I think tiger short hall was worse. Even my knees touched the seat in front of me!! And the smell! Nightmare. Post smelly, clostraphobic flight we were greeted by what could be the most hospitable guesthouse host ever imaginable. He had our welcome drinks ready, got the other hosts all out of bed to meet us (including he elderly mother), had our train tickets ready for the next day and, for the first time for spike and I, a named welcome card at the airport.

On a side note, the duty free shops at the airport were nothing like I had ever seen, it felt more like a market street for washing machines and appliances, with many many little stores all named after their owners... Crazy.

The next morning It felt like the first stage of the trip was beginning as we boarded the train towards the hills, destined for Nuwara Eliya. And what a train it was. Although basic in amenities (as to be expected) the service was fantastic and the free wifi, a crazy unexpected joy for the 8 hour journey (meant to be a 5 hr trip I think).

Nuwara Eliya is the tea capital of Sri Lanka, and it turns out I really enjoy the light type of tea grown in these highlands. We took a trip out to the Mackwoods tea factory - this tea is only exported. The tea fields are never ending and beautiful. Perched on the steepest of slopes no land is wasted and the ladies work hard hand plucking then drying them. It is a very manual process still, even in this very large factory.

Like anywhere else in Asia there are a lot of tuk tuks, many are in great condition (better than SE Asia) and Sri Lankans take a lot of care in keeping them clean (along with their streets, houses etc). One thing I really like is they all seem to have some sort of slogan on the side of them. From funny and inspiration, "if you are in hell, keep going" to religious quotes. Always in English too.

It turns out that there is a "New Zealand" farm here in the highlands also, about 40 minutes out of town. Our guesthouse was very proud of the two dairy farms and very small factory. Although, other than the landscape (nz looking bush) it seemed to all run a bit differently from at home. Felt like they had put a bit of a show on, bring stock into the sheds, and I must admit some of it made me pretty emotional. Pleased we saw it and it wasn't all bad, but far from the most fun experience, nor much like the New Zealand way of doing it. We were quite disappointed there was no one there to ask questions of either. Needless to say we didn't come out that much more educated on dairying in Sri Lanka. On a positive note, at least it all ended with some fantastic Indian food for lunch on the way back to town.

The food at the guesthouse here has been awesome too, the host has taken to giving spike some of what they are eating, the 'bit of spice' meals... Needless to say we have some HOT food, although very very good. We were told that Sri Lankan food wasn't that hot before we came... I think I tend to disagree with this! Think chillies stuffing an omelette, or anything devilled (which unlike devilled in nz is very very hot with hunks of chilly and a bit of sweet). Not to say there isn't option with less of a kick. Just isn't the default here. Lucky we both love spice!

The weather has been pretty rough the last couple of days which has lead to a change in plans. Plus we are also still exhausted from the travelling. Adams peak trek has been bypassed for what I am sure will be a great, although very short, trip to Kandy. With a stop at another tea factory, blue fields for some more tea tasting on the way.

Morocco - Part three: Shopping, Drowning and Eating

Riad Eden

There are cats everywhere. Even in the middle of the desert the campsite had cats. They are not the cute and cuddly type, but a Moroccan type, that make the weirdest meow noise ever. It is like a scream cry (like cats do), but they seem to not have the ability to make normal meowing noises as well. Just the horrible cat scream.

There are a lot of sounds actually. Like the call to prayer. You don’t notice it so much during daylight, but at 5:30am you can clearly hear the ‘singing’? I think I didn’t sleep through the night once while staying there (though I am sure the rock hard beds added to that).

During the day time the sounds change. Just like Asia you are constantly hounded to buy things. Common sayings in Marrakech included: “what’s this?” (for those selling soaps and spices and anything that smells) “you’re too skinny, come eat” (food stall holders in the evenings) and the age old “you promised me yesterday”, were a few I can remember.

The selling strategy at the food stalls in the evenings literally made me walk down the aisles cracking up laughing the first night we arrived. Everyone charges at you with menus and promises from every direction and takes no shame in grabbing your arm, trying to drag you, and standing right in front of you so you can’t move. The novelty wore off fast though and by the last night I had given up even speaking to them and just walked past ignoring all comments, eye contact and charging through anyone in my way.

We had arranged a lovely Riad to stay in after our trip into the desert. Riad Eden is owned by a French couple and their staff are very friendly, the breakfasts extremely generous and the guesthouse just plain lovely. Breakfast in Morroco is normally quite tasty, they have these deslious pancake things generally eaten with honey, fig or apricot jam. Tasty. And of course there is the fresh orange juice, not unlike South America. Emmanuel, the owner seems to have an endless supply of conversational topics and a lot of really helpful advice as well.  A highly recommended place to stay if you ever go to Marrakesh.

Sweet treats

All the sweets in Morocco are almond flavoured. By sweets I mean cakes, cookies, slices all the little baked and non-baking goodies they eat. It gets a bit old after a while. Although they are pretty tasty, just probably not as good as they look.

The median in Marrakesh gets pretty mental. There are people pushing everywhere and bikes and motos try to squeeze through streets which can barely fit two people wide. I even got hit by a pushbike and damn it hurt. I spent most of my time wishing they would just ban bikes from the median They even managed to fit small trollies down some streets and small cars down the slightly larger ones… what a nightmare!

We did our fair share of shopping and bargaining. There is a lot of neat stuff to buy, Tarjines, tea pots, bowls, luggage, shoes, lampshades and so on… The best value buy probably was Spikes fake Rolex, which started off at 650Dh (65 euros) and we ended up paying 140Dh (14 euros). Not bad. Though it is not always keeping time… The bargaining was good though!

We couldn’t visit Morocco without going to a Hamamm. The massage was below average but the Hamamm itself was a surprise. Sitting naked on a little stool getting hot water thrown at me by a lady and then scrubbed down with black soap and drowned again. Intense.

On a side note I was determined to complain to the guy that sold us the tour. With his encouragement to “please come back and tell him how it was” after the tour. My goal however was to gain back some of the money we were ripped of through being sold to another company. There was people in our van who only paid 700Dh each, where we paid 175D more each (for the ‘better experience’ we were ripped off). I must admit with the numerous tours we had done and been ripped off I expected nothing. After waiting patiently while others handed their money away we finally got our turn to speak up. After a good half an hour we walked away with 200Dh and an offer of a free  day trip. We didn’t want the day trip. But it was better than a kick in the face and a lot more than I expect from Best Travel. Although, still not a fair deal.

After a little over a week in Morocco we were ready to leave and on our way for one night in London before embarking on the long journey that is getting to Melbourne. 

Morocco - Part two: The Sahara Desert

Sunrise in the Sahara (we are the last two people)

Things started getting a bit more interesting from there. We had a week in Marrakech and this meant we had plenty of time to look into a desert tour. We spoke to a couple of different agents to get an idea of price. There seemed to be a decent difference between what you could get price wise. Having done a lot of tours over our travels and having been ripped of our fair share we had learnt one thing (or so we thought). Always pay a bit more and get a bit more. Don’t take the cheap option.

Sugar coated peanuts... delish

Using this theory we decided on a company, Best Travel, who promised us a number of things including longer camel ridding than many of the others, showed us photos of a nice enough hotel and decent sized, comfortable looking vans and above all they were very sure in promising that they would “not do what other companies do and sell you to another company, you will defiantly be with Best Travel”. What an outright lie that was.

We waited for our van at 7am as instructed and it all started out well. That was until we got changed over to a different van just around the road. It took us a minute to realise this was a piece of crap van, a lot smaller than promised (so way less comfortable) with a mini seat – which I was left with on this first leg. Not long after we hit the road it was obvious that the company was “Sahara Travel” and not Best Travel after all. We had been sold. I knew from there this was going to bring back memories of Solar de Ulyuni and others tours from the past. I tried to brace myself for the angry I was likely to feel over the next four days.

In order to see the ‘real desert’ and not just a rocky desert you need to take a four day, three night trip from Marrakech to Erg Chebbi, almost in Algeria. So much so that we saw the border (well a few sticks in the sand).

Us at a Kasbah

The tour started off ok, as many tours do. We stopped a decent amount of times and saw a lot of things as we crossed the Atlas Mountains and descended through the valleys on the other side. Visiting a Kasbah where Gladiator and heap of other movies have been filmed that is protected by UNESCO and a few other more boring things. Things really started looking shady from the first night. The hotel was extremely cold and there was no heating in the rooms. By this stage I had all my clothes on, singlet, thermal, long sleeve top, cardie and jacket from the UK. The rooms were dirty and everything was damp and falling apart. Far from the decent (though nothing amazing) pictures we were shown when booking.

The next morning the cold was confirmed when we opened the window to get handfuls of snow. “It won’t be cold, you won’t need any more clothes than what you are wearing now – the tour salesman told us”. But it was truly snowing and freezing. The upside to the snow was it was really pretty and it was also our first semi European snowfall. It wasn’t a bad start to the day, but put some serious concerns about our trip into the Sahara for that night.

The wind was crazy as well pulled into a small hotel in the middle of nowhere. Literally it was just flat hard and dusty. It was from here that we would enter the Sahara. A mere 5 minute camel ride away and we were deep in the heart of the Sahara. Rolling hills of sand in every direction. It was amazing.

It was also freezing. The winter wind hadn’t stopped and sent sand in every direction. After about 15 minutes I was holding out to get somewhere warm, all feeling had gone from my fingers and toes and I was about as cold as I think I have even been in my life. It was mental. Even once we arrived at camp I could not warm up and didn’t warm up until I was on the road again towards Marrakech.

Our time camel riding was yet another disappointment as the cheap tour we found had an hour at night and an hour in the morning and our one was meant to have two hours – but with getting sold this was another pitfall (among many smaller things along the way).

The people are weird in Morocco. They have had European tourists for so long that it feels like we only ever see a small part of what they are really like underneath. They are cheeky, they try to rip you off more than I ever would have guessed (at least as much, probably a lot more than Asian country’s! and the costs are a LOT higher in Morocco too, so you end up a lot worse off – for example the price difference between the tour we paid for and the cheap one we were offered was about $60). An example of this ‘milk the tourist’ attitude was when we went to visit a gorge on our desert trip. There was no need for people to be washing their clothes there; there were lots of streams closer to where the towns were and better water etc but they took their donkeys miles away to this part where the tourists come and feed them some hay. Obviously people were stopping to take photos or pat the donkeys and they evidently were asking for money…. Public space anyone? When they weren’t paid the lady would spit towards the tourists. They didn’t need to wash their clothes there and if they wanted money they should have been selling things or singing or doing SOMETHING, not trying to get money because people took photos or patted their donkeys, which they clearly had only put there to try and get money out of tourists. 

Morocco - Part one: Not what we expected.

As we flew over the gap between Spain and Morocco the land became so much greener than I expected. There were clearly marked paddocks, crops and cattle. Not exactly what one imagines when you think of Morocco. It was very beautiful and not at all sparse as my imagination and small amounts of education on Morocco had told me.

Hassan II 

Casablanca airport welcomed us not with the warmth I was expecting or hoping. It was somewhat warmer than Spain, but not enough to become a non-coat wearing human again. Damn it. A reasonably comfortable train ride into the city and a short taxi later we found ourselves a hotel. Another shock had hit us upon arriving – that French appeared to be not only a widely spoken language, but the dominate language. Being a European language they all expected us to speak French. Doh. I later read that French is only really around in the cities, and Moroccan Arabic is much more prevalent throughout the country as a whole. Although it brought back strong memories of backpacking through South America, old and grimy. This was not the Morocco I had imagined. It felt like it lacked anything, sort of like Yangon in Myanmar did. Reflecting on that experience I knew for certain that things would change, if not in other parts of the city then when we headed down to Marrakech the following afternoon. The first meal in Morocco added to my South American fears. Meat and dirt and chips...... I snacked on a few fries and hoped the next day would bring better things.

The next morning after a below average Moroccan breakfast (more concerns were upon me by this time) we headed out to see Hassan II mosque on the waters edge. I had seen a number of pictures and was looking forward to seeing this amazing building. The fog lingered (it is around in the mornings, we were informed by the taxi driver to the hotel the night before and re-confirmed by the one this morning) and our photos were very largely impacted by this weather, but the sheer size of this building was not lost in the physical presence. It is an amazing building. Only built in 1993 and designed by a French architect, it is over 200 metres tall (worlds tallest minaret) and can hold 25,000 people and a further 80,000 if you include the courtyard area. It is the 7th largest mosque in the world.

After this, we jumped back in the taxi and discovered that, yes, we were staying in a terrible part of town. The waterfront area in Casablanca screams wealth in a very obvious way. There were even surfers in the cold water. Morocco was proving to be full of surprises already.

Mint being sold in the Medina

Next it was time to take a three and a half hour train journey to Marrakech. Our fingers were crossed for a feeling of more life and culture. What I would describe as soul to the Marrakech than we had found in Casablanca. Within arriving and making our way to the central medina it was evident there was a lot more going on here, with the hustle and bustle of Asia (although Asia still remains my favourite travel destination to date by a long shot). Next was the mission of finding our Riad (guesthouse) in what is well known as an area to get thoroughly lost in Marrakesh.  I was pleased to have had a bit of a read of my Lonely Planet Morocco at that stage when I remembered that 20Dh (about 2 euros) would get us a guide of sorts to escort us to where we needed to be. As those thoughts hit home a guy tapped on Spikes shoulder.

Riad Bahia

The next hour was spent looking for our accommodation. We had pre-booked on Agoda with the hopes of avoiding a nightmare upon arriving to Marrakesh. This was all in vain as we followed our guide around the medina making phone calls and looking for this mysterious Riad. Eventually the address was certainly located. No sign, nothing to indicate this was any type of accommodation. An elderly Moroccan man finally greeted our guide after a few minutes of knocking. In French. After about 10 minutes of discussion and a phone call or teo it had been established that this was the correct Riad, and that we were the first guests it has had. At about that time I knew that it could go any way from here on. The Riad host spoke not a word of English and us no French. This lead to an interesting first few days. Luckily, before our guide left we established what time the host would have breakfast ready and our general plan off attack for the next few days.

After he shared with us some weird steamed (I think nuts?) one afternoon we had an interesting conversation (or maybe more like anti-conversation) about our accommodation with him. He was trying to say we needed to pay tax on top of our booking. However, we had used this site a lot of times and it is fully inclusive. So we tried to explain with diagrams and arrows that our tax was included. In the end I think he just gave up. Was pretty funny though trying to think of as many different ways as possible to explain, including role playing.

Lunch

You would think that the food in Morocco was full of flavour. Rich with the coloured spices you always see on TV. However, in reality this was far from the case. Coloured with Turmeric was about as far as it went and if you were lucky there was cumin and salt on the table which you could add yourself. It was pretty disappointing that’s for sure. Although I think I picked up a couple of tips for making cous cous better than before I left. I have yet to try these out though as when you eat cous cous every day you get pretty over it. They don’t seem to have much variety in food either which was shame. 

Spain - only the parts where they don't speak much Spanish

Las Rambas

It felt different from what I expected; the airport felt forever away from what could be the Barcelona city. Farmland rushed past the windows with all kinds of crops and within 20 minutes we had reached the heart of Barcelona. Time to whip out a bit of that long unused basic Spanish. Or so I thought.

Northern Spain, that Catalylan state is not home to Spanish at all. Rather the people speak a somewhat related language – catalyan. There was the odd word that I could understand and most people spoke some Spanish, but not on first impressions.

Antoni Gaudi building

After we had adjusted to this (not entirely unexpected – but not such vast differences were anticipated) we settled into to our hotel and sought about making a plan for the next 5 days we had in Spain. There were a couple of touristy must do’s, but other than visit La Ramba, Montjuic  for my first European castle and some great views over the city, the waterfront area and one of the building by  Antoni Gaudi we decided Barcelona wasn’t our scene and it was time to head out (not without sampling a range of Tapa’s and wine of course).

View from the wall in Girona

Our next stop was Girona. Picked largely due to the fact that a) we could get there by train and b) it was a short journey. Girona proved to be a lovely ‘city’ with much more of a town feel too it. Much better value accommodation was appreciated here, although the beds were just as hard and uncomfortable as Barcelona and not so far from the discomfort we had grown accustomed to while in London.

The quality of the French bakeries was outstanding (although nothing of what we had experienced in France of course, but a decent step up from London all the same). With my vegetarian diet not proving to be the easiest in Spain, in fact the food in general being pretty disappointing, I ate more than my far share of pastries. I blame this for the wasteline I have recently discovered, which seemed to appear out of nowhere (undoubtly influenced by the consecutive colds which lead to no exercise in the last month we were in London). Regardless of the cause, the mission to get fit again is reinstated come Australia.

We walked the walls once surrounding once side of the city. From here you have amazing views over the city and a grand cathedral. Girona had been fought over many times, and the Roman and Jewish influences were evident in the architecture.

The wall

In Girona there is a bridge, Eiffel bridge, unsurprisingly designed by Gustave Eiffel who designed the Eiffel tower. It has got nothing on the tower, obviously. In fact it was just a small bridge, one of many which crossed one of the three small rivers that run through Girona. All the same it was pretty neat to have seen more than one of his designs in different parts of Europe too.

Our time in Spain was brought back to reality by the passing of Spike’s Nana in New Zealand. It makes you realise how physically far away from home you are. No amount of Skype and technology can make up or change the fact that Europe is, as minimum, over a full day away from New Zealand.

Before we knew it our time in Spain was over and we were on the train back into Barcelona to catch the next flight, on Air Arabia, to Morocco.

Buying some chocolate treats in Barcelona

Settle-Carlisle. One of the worlds top ten train journeys.

New years rolled around and most of our friends had headed out of the country to celebrate. We were just getting into the swing of income coming in and didn’t really have the chance to book any flights anywhere. Having read about one of the top ten train journeys in the world being the Settle-Carlisle we thought we might as well use this time off to see a little bit more of the countryside. So we booked a train trip to cover this journey. It involved a day right up almost to the border with Scotland, a couple of hours look around Carsile and then a couple more hours down to Settle to spend the night. A true old person’s holiday.

A cup of coffee meant we missed our 830am train. Watching the train pull away panic struck in as to what we would have to flog out for last minute new tickets. Luckily for a sympathetic platform man (who wrote we had missed it due to connections) we were on the 930 one without extra cost.

The weather was cold and foggy and by the second leg of our journey rather wet too. So the views were somewhat hindered – as one part we could barely see out the window. Arriving in Settle on New Years Eve we checked into the B&B and headed out for dinner. There was only a couple of places open and they were all booked out, so we ended up buying some cheese and crackers and drinking a bottle of French wine (we had from Paris) in our room before heading for a late dinner of Indian.  The night was somewhat a disappointment. But the little town was beautiful (if only it was freezing and wet as). A great way to see a decent chunk of England. An a tasty breki at the B&B J

In the afternoon after a day of walking around in the rain and struggling to find much open being new years day we headed home. After a few hours stop over in Leeds on the way home we finally made it back, cold, but pleased to say we have seen a bit more of the country before we leave.

Paris - the city of love

Early December we decided to take a trip ‘across the ditch’ being we are still living in London this referred to a weekend in Paris visiting our Friend Je, who we met while travelling through Myanmar. Much to our appreciation he agreed to put us to for the two nights and even spend a bit of time showing us his favourite parts of the famous city.

The weekend started off with a late arriving flight from Heathrow, and in true European style no early night – rather some mulled wine at the corner bar.

After a decent sleep we woke up to a treat of pasties and baguettes before being armed with a map book and set off into the sity. Though we visited the Eiffel tower the weather (being winter) was a nightmare and the highest parts were closed, so we opted not to go up. It was pretty disappointing not to get to climb, but that is the way sometimes – for one of many possible reasons you don’t end u doing something on many peoples ‘must do lists’ in various occasions. We also visited the biggest street in Paris with heaps of designer labels etc (forgotten its name) and the Arc that it descends from. And of course we went and saw the Louvre, again with our limited time we didn’t want to spend it wasted standing in line so only saw the outside. For anyone who does visit, it is highly recommended to hit this an hour or so before it opens to reduce your waiting time. I imagine it would have been at least 3 hours lining up to get in.

We hooked up with Je on the Sat evening to be directed towards a fantastic show – “How to be Parisian in one hour”, it is a one man show in English that he had seen himself and found great, a definite highlight of our short time in Paris. In my mind this would be the thing most recommended. So so funny and a real good sport about all the sterotypes of Parisian people (including the infamous attitudes!). It is shown in a small theatre of about 200 odd people and is on most nights. The star was told he would be unsuccessful by a number of theatres and no one would have him, but now he has done over 300 shows and is taking a one man act to the world. I have no doubt it will be a great success. He gets the audience involved too, which is a bit of fun. You can check it out here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n2fkM9VhE50

In true Parisian style we headed for a late dinner after the show (well it started out as a late dinner for us – about 9:30pm), however we were about 15mins late to the restaurant and our table was given away. Je was determined we eat there and at some crazy time later (around 11 I think) we finally got a table. It was well worth the wait. So much wine and cheese and fondue. Fantastic time.

Sunday we headed to Montmarte for a crepe brunch (something not very Parisian – but I really wanted crepes before we left). Great views, food and company.

Before we knew it was time for Eurostar home (the train system is a lot better in Paris than London, the trains don’t muck around closing doors etc.) But not without a trip to the supermarket to stock up and wine and cheese and the patisserie for some tasty treats (including the best pastries ever). Before we knew it the weekend was over. It was one of those times we reflected on to realise our favourite parts were when with/directed by Je – the impact of having a friend to stay with when you are travelling is huge. Your experience is completely different. There is no way we can repay him for such a great weekend (until he decides to take a trip to the southern hemisphere that is!).

The city of love. Dirt. Cheese. Wine. And anger J

Argos experience

Anyone who has lived in the UK or is familiar with moving to a new country will know that once you arrive somewhere new there is a never ending list of things you need to do, arrange and buy. One of the most obvious initially is your lack of homewares. Sheets, towels and all the basics of life.

We had all sorts of suggestions as to where to head to full our needs. From the supermarket to various outlet and department stores. The most interesting worth a note is Argos. Argos is a store you walk into and first think “there is nothing in here” but low and behold in reality there is more than your can imagine. Step one, head to a catalogue and leaf through pages and pages of homewares etc. Step two, locate your desired products, grab a pencil and sheet and write down the catalogue number or numbers. Step three, had to a cashier or pay station and pay. Step four, wait for your number to be called and collect from the assigned counter. It’s pretty cool really. There just get it from the warehouse right there. Generally cheap and crappy stuff, but it does the job J

It‘s kind of like university again, but there is no friends and family to get free house stuff from. Doh. We are back in a flat, sharing bills, bathrooms and kitchens. If I am being honest that is a pretty depressing part of this whole experience. Space sharing again. Along with the general lack of funds and no current income. And that fact we have to find a flat again in three weeks (we were lucky enough to score somewhere while a friends flatmate is away travelling with a couple of cool chicks).

I job hunt here involves finding a few agencies to get out there and find you interviews. To date I have three agencies on board and fingers crossed for some interviews soon. Recruiters are generally really nice and so far they seem to be putting a lot of jobs in front of me and being generally helpful with CV advice etc. No complaints there. It seems to be quite a good system.

Other than that I am truly enjoying the generally cheap food, hating the expensive transport (but loving how easy it is), liking the ‘summer’ (better than the weather was when we left NZ) and can’t wait to have an income again.

I'm leaving, on a jet plane.

So I’m leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again...

Well that is only partly true. We might not get jobs and could be back in no time at all and Spikes brother is getting married in March which defiantly warrants being in New Zealand. So who really knows. But one thing we are pretty sure of this time is that it is farewell to Aotearoa as our home for a significant length of time. If not London then Sydney, or who knows where. But it is time to get our lives restarted again. The essence of the journey has changed significantly now.

Stop one is Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. A short time to gather our thoughts, eat some good food and possibly a spot of shopping in preparation for the full on job hunt once we hit London.

Oh how I love you Dhal and roti

KL is a fantastic city. It is a strong mix of modernism and traditional culture. Everyone speaks English, which obviously is always a big up for making life that bit easier. There is a large proportion of Muslims, which means beautiful outfits and rich culture. And the food. There is no end to the food in Malaysia. The Indian influence runs strong here and we enjoyed a $1 breakfast of “Australian Dhal” as they called it (a more watery, easier to make Dhal) and rotis. Awesome, awesome, awesome. It is a lot cleaner than other places is South East Asia we have visited and when caught fresh the food is nothing short of the best.

The shopping is also fantastic. You are never more than a short monorail, walk or train ride away from one of Malaysia’s huge shopping malls. Sogo, the biggest department store in Malaysia has outfitted us with some treads required for the job hunt we are about to head into full steam. Great quality, great prices and helpful staff.

Sogo department store sale floor

Dragon at the tower

The only real sight seeing we did while in KL was a trip up the KL tower. It is 5 metres taller than the sky tower. We got a pretty cool view of the city and got a free “F1 simulator”, which turned out to see some crappy computer game which looked like something from the early 90’s. The tower, as a lot of KL is surrounded by rainforest. It is quite a pretty city.

The taxi driver who took us to the airport reflected our general experience of the Malay people, chatty, kind and open. He told us all sorts of stories about his travels, driving and even political views. I think my general knowledge on Malaysia increased 50% at least during that 45 minute journey.

As we prepare to land in Stanstead the flight attendants were instructed and consequently sprayed the plane with something in aerosol cans as required by UK health regulations... I don’t remember this experience last time I arrived here? Maybe those who flight Air Asia are high risk entrants?

We headed into our accommodation for the night, a housewarming/birthday party. It was a long time without decent sleep and a pretty intense couple of days. But we had finally arrived at what we now call home.

The journey between backpacking and 'real life'

Since we made the decision to go to London there have been a lot more decisions to be made, a lot more things have happened and there have even been a doubt or two.

So lets start at the beginning. Step one was the flights, which were all done while we were still in Asia. It worked out cheapest to take two seperate one way flights, Auckland to Kuala Lumpur and Kuala Lumpur to Standstead. No frills, no food, nothing fights.

Step two was attaining Visas for the UK. This process turned out much easier than anticipated. We did the whole process ourselves (to save money) and had our passports back in hands within 10 working days.

Spike and I with Manly in the backgound

Next we headed to Sydney for 6 days to catch up with Spike middle brother Greg and his girlfriend. we ended up being stranded by the ash cloud and almost two weeks later we made it back to NZ just in time for me to make it to a 21st on less than four hours sleep. We learnt on this trip that we have one trip only insurance. So basically I paid for a whole year, but as soon as I hit NZ shores it became invalid. What a nightmare. And f course, Jetstar didn't give a toss that our Sunday evening flight couldn't be rebooked until the following Friday (how two days of not flighing equals 5 days of delay I will never understand).

Keg & Spike looking at the lack of surf at Curl Curl

Syndey brought back to live the orginal plan to move there rather than London. The money, the weather and the lifestyle. Needless to say it is still sitting in our minds as a possible next step. Have to get a head somehow.

JetStar is really out to get me. Happens that we had the first leg of the trip to London also booked on this challenging airline. When I finally managed to get hold a person to upgrade my already purchased luggage 5 more kgs I was informed I couldn't do that. Although I could when I first booked, and I can at the airport. I could go on for quite a while with all the details, but you get the basic idea that they are retarded. I plan on doing my very best to aviod them in the furture.

Upon returning to NZ we had less than three weeks before take off. Rearranging and repacking of things, a weekend out a Bland bay catching up with friends and now I am back packing my bag again. I have no idea what to take with me this time round, it feels a lot harder than packing for backpacking. Not totally sure why.

We have somewhere to live for a month, which is nice and in a matter of a week the job and flat hunts will fully be underway when we settle into the next step. Living in London.

A small reflection

Over the last few months of my time away I put together a list of interesting things (highlights and lowlights from the trip)...

At the airport

• Hottest location - Bagan, Myanmar 45+ degrees
• Most stylish people - young Vietnamese women
• Most overweight locals - Bolivia
• Coldest location - London
• Most humans on a moto - 6
• Best tour guide - Maxi, horse riding in Cordoba, Argentina
• Worst toliet - on the bus from Nazca to Cusco
• Highest location - 4400 at the top of the death road in Bolivia
• Friendliest people - Koh Throng Islanf, Cambodia
• Cutest children - Cambodia
• Most useful gadget - sea sickness bands
• Heaviest package home - 12.4kgs, suits from Vietnam
• Single most expensive activity - Paragliding, Cordoba, Argentina
• Best 'freebie' on a tour - holding a snake in Vietnam
• Scariest activity - Teaching in Cambodia
• Best new drink - Iced green tea with honey and lemon
• Best new food - Indian - Masala bread
• Worst Accident - Tom crashing off this moto into a ditch in rural Laos and knocking himself out food and propper
• Best Mountain - Machu Pichu
• Worst tour guide - Mario on the salt lakes in Bolivia. We were promised an english speaking guide and he didn't speak a word.
• Dirtiest place -Santa Cruz, Bolivia
• Biggest mear - Not getting our Visa's pre arranged for Vietnam and paying a fortune at the airport.
• Worst place - Tie between Puno (Peru) and Santa Cruz (Bolivia).
• Itichest bites - Ant bites all up the back of my legs in Samipata, Bolivia
• Biggest rip off - Hoi An cooking class, we made basic food and the dude skipped two things we were meant to see
• Most expensive contry - Brazil (by a long shot)
• Cheapest place - Bolivia?
• Best beer - Beer Lao!
• Food I missed the most - Good dairy products
• Best purchase -New shoes in Peru (I kept falling over in my other ones!)
• Silliest located town - Hoi An, it floods every year because they are 100m too close from the river
• Favourite article of clothing - Black summer dress
• 1 thing I never used - battery charger
• Least sleep - none, from BA to Floripa. Awake for over 40 hours
• Most nights in one place - Hanoi, a total of 8 nights (in two different blocks)
• Worst journey - Siem Reap to Kampot. Were told it was direct overnight bus, but were in a bus station from 4-8am
• Longest journey - 19 hours from Hoi An to Saigon - Train
• First time I ate a whole tube of pringles - Samipata, Bolivia
• Best hostel - Backpackers Sunset, Floripa, Brazil - Great food, awesome spot, good fun.
• Favourite river - Nam ou, Laos
• Tme taken to hack into facebook when in a blocked location - 2 days, Vietnam
• Proudest language moment - When Spike was sick in Bolivia and I managed to get some orange juice off a vendor and take it back to spike and return the galss
• Number of times without power - too many to count
• Worst internet - Samipata (Bolivia) or Don det (Laos)
• Most tourist friendly detination - Thailand (the whole place!)

Until next time...

The home straight

Checking in... we had to get suitcases for all the presents

It all started with a flight from Inle Lake to Yangon (via Mandalay), followed by Yangon to Bangkok, Bangkok to Sydney, then finally Sydney to Auckland. A decent trip home that’s for sure. Followed by a nice dose of jetlag (which I seem to suffer from on any long haul flight). 

There was a crazy amount of people taking photos on the Yangon to Bangkok flight, it was really weird. Cameras and video camera all round. 

On the way to Bangkok airport

In Bangkok I got sick, so that was a great way to start the journey home. In fact I am only just coming right now. A week after being home. It meant for a non eventful last meal in Asia.

Spike and I were on different flights to Sydney, but I managed to get mine changed, which was nice. I also got a first class meal because they lady changing the tickets didn’t change my meal over to vegetarian. It was awesome!

It felt weird to be coming home, more like any other long flight. Packing up piles of things and a little nervous. Nothing different really. I guess it just doesn’t sink in. And now we are home it feels like we haven’t even really been away. Nothing changes much here. 

Last stop, Inle Lake



Spike chilling out by a water station



Inle Lake. Last proper stop of a trip lasting 192 days in total. I won’t delve into reflections just yet as there is still much happening and things to share.

Spike and Mr E. Our lake tour guide

The craziest ride yet, without a doubt, was the taxi ride from Mandalay. We were picked up on time and the hotel even gave a small packed breakfast to take (as it was before 7 they don’t open breakfast). But that was about where the journey to the airport stopped being good. We waited about 10 minutes for the next people (as SO often happens in share taxis), then the taxi driver got lost and asked about 6 people how to get to the next guy and to top it off the last person didn’t even exist, there was just no one at the address (and we got lost and asked about 10 people in order to get to this final address). It was now well after 7 and we were meant to check in at the airport at 7:30. We need not have worried though because the driver turned what should be a 40-45 minute journey into about 25. INSANSE hardly cuts it. He was driving so fast and passing everything possible. Pulling around trucks while there was cars and motos in the oncoming direction and bikes lining both sides of the road. But as long as you have your hand on the horn you and everyone around you is invincible. Right? Luckily for this trip came to an end with us and everyone around us still in one piece and the airport was small, so checking in 30 minutes before the flight was ok. As for the flight, it was only 25 minutes long (saving a 10 hour local bus trip), everyone just made a dash for and choose their own seats, we got lollies and soda... so not to bad! The weather is cooler here too, which is a welcome relief!

I think this is my favourite place in Myanmar. Although Bagan was great and amazing Inle Lake and the surroundings feel more like a community which have much much much more going on than mainly tourism. It is always nice to go places where the main reason the people are there now is not for tourists. Not to say tourism isn’t a big part of this community and many people’s sole form of income.




Yummy fried doughy thing I ate at the market

 

Although there is still a strong tourist route in Myanmar as A LOT of the country is blocked off from tourists. There is no end to the real underlying theories you could come up with as to why this is, other than the obvious macro reason involving the beloved government.

This common route means we have met a number of people many times along the way. In Bagan we first met Erica and Matt (Americans) and Ron and Jill (Kiwis), at the Embassy in Bangkok we met an Auzzie gal- All of who we have caught up with here in Inle Lake. It has been quite nice and having a few beers with the kiwi couple (who are over 60) the other day was great fun. They tell the best stories of all their travellers over the years. Recently they have been coming to Asia for six weeks every year and the rest of time the live on the Shore (Being true Aucklanders).

Arriving in Bagan we were prepared for an expensive ride from the airport to the town (about 45minutes) as the lonely planet had somewhat prepared us. So we hunted down someone to share a taxi with. This was where we met ‘J’ (his name in French is a bit challenging on our accents). Still the lonely planet hadn’t even brought us close to the first quote we were given of 30,000 for a full car (about 60NZ$). With no other options we settled for 8,000 each and got on our way.

One of the highlights of our time here has been the boat trip on the river. It is the must do for Inle Lake. Spike, myself and J shared a boat for the day for 4,000 each. A great value trip. Once we found our prearranged driver (who we were told would come pick us up from the hotel, but turned out he was the guy standing on the corner of the road who kept trying to sell boat trips to us (but that is another story)) we hit the lake. The lake is large and surrounded by beautiful mountains. It took over an hour to get down to the first stop – a market. From there we visited a pagoda, lotus and silk weaving, fishermen who leg row, the floating gardens (miles of cucumbers and tomatoes growing over the lake), local cigarette making, silver and gold making, long necks, jumping cats and monastery. All topped off with a swim for Spike and Don Ton (our driver) in the lake. There was too much to go into detail about everything, but Don Ton was great and we all had a fantastic day.



Im a tomato plant!



Spike 'learning' to leg row



Another neat thing we have done while being here was hire bikes for a day and cycle around out of the town. We rode for about three and a half hours out of town in a direction not that appealing to tourists (as there are no monasteries or pagodas) and were constantly being greeted by people and having little chats. The children would always yell out and one little boy even followed me a bit saying something over and over in Burmese in response to my “Mingalaba” (hello). We topped it off with a visit to a Winery. Yes, in Myanmar we went and saw some grapes, met the French wine grower and drunk some wine. Defiantly not something we expected to be doing. The views over the lake and surrounding area was beautiful from the hilltop sight.

Our first night in Inle Lake we discovered the Roti stand. It was no Chapati stand, but it is damn good. Your choice of curried chicken or vege filling and made from scratch while you drink tea and wait. We have also had a couple of great lunches at a Myanmar Curry shop. Soup, tea, about 8 side dishes, rice and curry for less than five New Zealand dollars each. So much oil is on the menu here in Myanmar and I think our timing is just about right before we have well and truly had enough. Even snacks are oily, puffed beans, weird crunchy things, fried doughy things and so on.

I have been witting about food SO much since being in Myanmar. It was a real unknown before arriving and overall, for a short trip, it is has been better than accepted. Food becomes such a central part to your life on the road. Meals are a measure of time, a break from activity or relaxing, a social activity and something which takes a bit more effort (weirdly enough) than just popping some toast in the toaster and grabbing the peanut butter when you feel a bit peckish.



At the winery