TravelStream™ news feed for member pinkkaz on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/pinkkaz en-us Copyright ©2010 TravelPod.com Tue, 11 Aug 2009 02:44:59 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/xian-kathmandu/1154583000/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/xian-kathmandu/1154583000/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/xian-kathmandu/1154583000/tpod.html Tue, 11 Aug 2009 02:44:59 -0400 3,912 kms Xian-Kathmandu via Tibet

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Xi'an, China

Yes on the road again, and before you ask, yes with the good ole Dragoman truck, my second home - 5 weeks Xi'an to Kathmandu. For those of you who actually read my travel tales and have been paying attention, you will notice that the first few days are a repeat of the first few days of my three month trip Ashgabat to Beijing back in 2004(well the last few days actually, as I am now going the other way if you get my drift).

Repeating routes is against my travel wozits, as the world is too big to see in one lifetime anyway, but you can't help it sometimes and anyway, seeing places like Xi'ahe and its wonderful monastery twice is no real hardship.

We left Vienna on 2nd August having had the least time on record to prepare for a trip. I didn't even get to read the itinerary proper until I was on the flight. In Xi'an we did the obligatory tourist stuff including the Drum Tower, the Bell Tower, the Big Goose Pagoda, the Great Mosque etc. We made the most of our 5 star joining hotel as we knew things were going to deteriorate pretty quickly on the accommodation front! Digging deep into the Rough Guide we made a great find and visited Daxingshoa Si, the only working Buddhist Temple in Xi'an. Our timing was perfect as we arrived just as they had started their offerings ceremony. It is such a privilege to see such things carried out as the norm, rather than be put on for tourists.

Pre-departure meeting was kept to a minimum as we wanted to get on and visit the Terracotta Warriors. There would be plenty of time for the mundane paperwork en route. This is the second time I have seen the Warriors, and I am sorry, but they just don't do it for me.

En route to Xi'ahe we stopped at Pingling, basically just for a hotel stop, but as usual, we had an interesting time due to the locals being so curious about us tourists! Some girl students studying at the local university spotted us in a restaurant, came in and tried out their best English on us. They found it very amusing watching us trying to order food, because we knew what we wanted, but as the menu is of course in Chinese, we had to use sign language. Simple you would think, but China is the only country in the world I know of where pointing at something and using sign language gets you absolutely nowhere. We saw a lady on another table eating spinach dumplings. We decided to go with that. I walked over to the lady with the waitress and in my best English/Chinese apologized to the lady for the intrusion and pointed to the dumplings and pointed to Michi and then to me indicating 2 portions of dumplings right? 20 minutes later, we were still having the same 'discussion'. Finally with the help of the English students we placed an order. Did we get dumplings to eat? No of course not, that's half the fun. You spend forever trying to order something, believe that they have finally understood your charade and then get surprise of the day. We got mapo dofu, tofu in a spicy chili sauce, which is actually want we wanted, but had not yet managed to successfully order it, so how happy were we?! Trouble is you just can't tell if they don't understand, or don't want to understand. Still it's never boring ordering food in China, or anything else for that matter.

The following day comprised of a long day's drive to Langzhou basically just to crash as we will be returning here after Xi'ahe to do the cable car trip to the monastery on top of the hill - um where else would they put it? How they ever got all the materials to half of these places without the transportation and technology we have today is astounding.

Road works, traffic jams and dirt roads to Xi'ahe meant we arrived too late for a proper en suite room (Drago style not 5 star you understand). They hadn't been picking up the phone when we tried to reserve rooms for the group, so we just had to take pot luck. So we ended up with a bed and nothing else in a basic room and a shower half a kilometer away down some dark steps next to the delightfully smelling drop toilets, all in the same block, two for men, one for women? Whose idea was that? A man's obviously! Have you ever seen a queue in the men's toilet?

However, we did manage to get proper rooms the next day - luxury, own toilet and bathroom. Only trouble was that when we returned from our action packed day we discovered that the water pipe to the hotel had burst earlier in the morning and we had no water in the room aagghhhrrr! They kindly organized buckets of water and bowls for us and said they had been working on the problem all day and hoped the water would resume 'later'. We waited and waited and it didn't. There was a BBQ party due to start in the courtyard of the hotel within the hour, so we started boiling kettles of water and using a bowl, set up a bird bath system. At one point it looked like that was my night sorted, "I'm staying in to wash my hair" like the good old days as my hair was already starting to look like a rats nest. Then just as we stripped off, clunk, gush....water worked its way through the pipes, hot water at that! So we cancelled the bird bath, shame. But fear not I am sure there will be other opportunities later in the trip.

During the day we did the guided tour of Labrang Monastery which covers some 860,000 m2 (yes you read correctly, eight hundred and sixty thousand square metres) of which 400,000 (four hundred thousand) has buildings on it, and saw the wonderful buddha statues. This time I even got to circumbobulate (as I call it as I can never remember circumambulate!) the monastery Circumambulating is where the locals walk the parameter of the monastery in a clockwise direction, touching and turning the huge colourful prayer wheels which go about half way around the monastery. They all squeak! As they turn the wheels they repeat prayers. We tried it and I have to say the concentration needed is unbelievable. I felt rather giddy too and couldn't do it for long. Out of respect we of course let the locals go by if we were in their way. The amount of people at all times of the day, but particularly very early in the morning and in the early part of the evening is astounding. They walk purposefully and amazingly fast too! Even the old ladies move at quite a pace! On the way around there are also some stupas and some small buildings with more prayer wheels which the pilgrims visit. Some have their own smaller prayer wheels on a wooden stick which they hold in front of them at about waist level and by a slight wrist movement cause the prayer wheel to move in a clockwise direction and they chant prayers.

The even more dedicated pilgrims carry out prostration which involves taking two steps forward, bringing the palms of their hands together at waist level, raising both arms above their head, bowing, kneeling down and then lying face down on their stomach, forehead touching the ground (solid stone and gravel you understand not plush grass). They then move their extended arms either side of the head, return the arms to the side of the body, return to a kneeling position to stand up again and repeat the whole process. Some wear protective gloves and some even have some knee protection, but that doesn't do much in helping what can only be described as a very strenuous routine, it has to be admired. Some go not only around the monastery, but some people do extreme trips from say Lhasa to Xi'ahe taking 2-3 years.

Life here is very basic. The harsh life they lead is written in the lines on the faces of the old people who with varying degrees of difficulty force themselves to complete the circumambulation. They still manage to raise a smile when they overcame their initial fear of seeing us and wondering what the heck we are doing there. They are very curious about us, particularly me because I am the only living thing they have seen with blond hair, let alone curly! They all have jet black, dead straight hair tied back. I feel a bit of a tourist attraction myself.

The funniest moment was during our circumambulation when we kept overtaking or were overtaken by this one particular old lady with a walking stick. As much as we greeted and smiled at her, she just wouldn't break into a smile. When we stopped to take a photo she approached with a look like a mischievous child, gave a gentle slap on the thigh as if to say it's me again, gave me a thumbs up sign and broke out into a huge smile and giggled as she moved on. From then on whenever we overtook each other it was all smiles and waves, truly wonderful.

The monks from the monastery roam the streets of Xi'ahe in their burgundy coloured robes and smile a lot for no apparent reason. Just seems a bit odd when you see them with mobile phones attached to their ears! They weren't around in 2004. Mobiles get everywhere eventually!

After an extended stay in Xi'ahe we were all set to leave for Bingling Caves, but just as we were about to load up the truck Rikki asked us to disappear for an hour as the brakes on the truck had suddenly stopped working (minor detail). However, the hour turned into the morning and it was decided we should carry on without Rikki and the truck as we were losing too much time and had a tight schedule ahead of us. We chartered a local coach, which is about one up from third class public transport, and got some kms behind us.

Bingling Caves are Buddhist grottoes carved into a cliff of a 60 metre high gorge. There are 694 statues and 82 clay sculptures. During our 1 hour boat trip to the caves down the Liujiaxia Reservoir I told everyone how impressive the approach to the caves is because when you turn into the final corner on the boat you are greeted by a 27 metre high statue of Martresh Buddha. So everyone set up their cameras for the perfect shot. Only trouble was, since I was last there in 2004 the water has risen so much that they had to quickly build a damn and move the Buddha to the safety of higher ground around the corner! I resigned as tour leader from that point on!

After many stressy phone calls between Claire and Rikki we received the good news that the truck had been repaired, safe enough to drive while we arrange for necessary spares to be shipped from England to be with us by the time we get to Lhasa. Rikki was on his way and would meet us in Golmud. In the meantime we continued in our not so luxurious coach, but at least we were moving, and drove by Qinghai Hu Lake, but didn't stop. Originally we were not going to stop off at Golmud as we were told there wasn't much to do in this old mining town, but now we had to meet the truck somewhere where he could find us, and it meant we could stock up and get ready for our upcoming bush camping nights.

After our late arrival in Golmud and after hectic shopping session in the market, we showered and made our way out to dinner. It was yet again another great experience. As per the norm, there was no written or spoken English so I decided to try a new tactic on the sign language front. I entered the filled to bursting kitchen, got myself acquainted with the chef, and pointed to individual ingredients which were sitting on the work surface in an organized fashion and pointed to the wok. The chef set to work and we almost got what we asked for. As if that wasn't enough entertainment for one evening they stuck us in a separate party room with a huge lazy Susan in the middle of the table and put the food on it. Then we noticed that one by one, family friends and neighbours popped their heads into the room giggling to look at the latest tourist attraction and try out their English, which of course is ways better than our Chinese. You did get the feeling that the language had been drummed into them as you could ask "what's your name" and before you could finish the question the answer came back with lightening speed. But when you asked anything more than name, relation to the person he was standing next to etc, the automatic recording stopped with an embarrassed look. At one point I counted 14 people staring at us.

As we were sitting in the lobby chatting late, we heard the familiar roar of the truck engine and excitedly ran out to the car park to welcome Rikki home and pressed a cold beer in his relieved little hand! He was covered from head to foot in brake oil and goodness knows what else you gather having spent 3 whole days under a truck. You do get very emotionally attached to your truck. It's your life support system!

The next morning you could feel a fresh excited buzz in the air. We were all on such a high having been without our truck for days. The timing of the return of the truck could not have been better as it was time to hit the Tibetan Plateau and I am not sure our coach would have made the journey and in any event, we needed our tents and cooking equipment so the whole thing would have been impractical. I don't even want to think about it.

The next four days were spent sitting on the truck, admiring the changing scenery of the Tibetan Plateau as we climbed over several high passes. Our highest pass was to be 5,300 metres. We were all a little concerned about the effects of altitude sickness as the planned climb is quite severe, but our intrepid leader has assured us that we are carrying oxygen, like that makes me feel a lot better! We found out that a guy on the trip last year failed to tell the leader that he was feeling unwell (bloke thing) and ended up being flown out back home with pulmonary embolism and he nearly died. So all this altitude stuff has to be taken very, very seriously. Thankfully most people on our trip suffered only minor side effects of the altitude, but one guy didn't do so great and decided that he would leave us in Lhasa and fly back to the UK. To quote the Drago leaders - it's an adventure not a holiday!! The holiday is rated extreme, and they weren't referring to luxury!

What became even more of a concern for us was accommodation in Lhasa. Due to the new train line that has opened up between Beijing and Lhasa, there are some 3,000 tourists per day arriving in Lhasa and our hotel accommodation has not yet been confirmed! Hotels are not very cooperative about confirming bookings, even if you offer full payment in advance. Maybe we will end up with a night on the truck?

So what of the controversial new train to Lhasa? Yes we have seen it, several times, and it looks very smart - apparently it is quite luxurious inside. It really depends on your point of view as to whether you feel this is a good or bad thing for the future of Tibet. What you cannot take away from them is the technical and engineering achievement. I personally fear what it will do to Tibet. On the news the other night there were reports of the first signs of cracks and sinking along the line, but the engineers have defended this, saying it is normal. How do they know, they've only just built it! Apparently, the Swiss were invited to be involved in the design and engineering of the railway, but they declined saying it couldn't be done. I would tend to go along with the Swiss if they say it isn't feasible, after all they have enough mountains! Time will tell. Sad thing is there is so much building going on, presumably new hotels and businesses, in anticipation of the increase in tourists that the train will bring. I don't even want to begin to think about the economic consequences and job losses should the train stop in a couple of years due to technical difficulties.

On the night before we got into Lhasa, the Tibetan capital, we camped at the highest salt lake in the world, Lake Namtso. We were told it would probably be our coldest night of camping, so I dressed myself in all my seven layers, including my rufty tufty duvet jacket. It actually turned out not to be soooooo bad all things considered. In the morning, we had two hours to walk along and appreciate the beauty of the lake before heading off for Lhasa.

En route we noticed a local festival thing going on so stopped to investigate. It turned out to be some Tibetan horsemen, dressed in traditional costume performing stunts from their horses. The only stunt we got to see was where they ride as fast as they could down the sand track, bending to the side of the horse holding a stick and trying to scoop up a bottle of sand which had been placed on the ground, and throw it over the crowd, with varying degrees of success it has to be said. Well what else is there to do on a hot sunny Sunday?

Relieved and very tired, we all arrived in Lhasa. Accommodation worked out in the end. Whilst we are not central on the map, we are only about a 20 minute walk away from the Potala Palace, the 13 storey, 1,000 roomed palace of the Dalai Lama. Lhasa was pretty dead as it was a Sunday so after we managed to find the one and only open one burner restaurant in town we ate dinner and retired, ready for an action packed few days ahead.

On our first free day we decided to wander around the Barkhor market area, circumambulate the Jokhang Monastery and watch the pilgrims prostrate and do their religious rituals. The smell of the burning juniper and incense sticks is very over powering, but somehow very pleasant and relaxing. The streets have a nice atmosphere and the locals are all around going about their daily activities, walking along the street with their prayer wheels and looking at us like we are from Mars. Then we went to see the outside of the Potala Palace and later stumbled up the Rumesh Monastery tucked away in the corner.

We decided that today, being a messed up exploratory sort of day, would be the day to go and see the debating monks at the Sera Monastery. This involves a couple of hundred monks who live there getting together daily at around 3:30 in the courtyard. Armed with their beads and their thoughts, one monk will stand over one or more monks and make his point. To emphasize his point he raises his leg, stretches out his arms and bring his hands together in a very loud clap whilst simultaneously replacing his foot on the ground with force as if to say "take that". Hardly debating I agree, but there you go. This goes on for an hour and a half. It was all very entertaining, but after half an hour, you are ready to move on, especially as it is all in Tibetan! We did start to think they were taking the micky a bit as they kept giggling as if to say see that chick over there....and so on. I don't think they were talking about the meaning of life. We then walked around to see the Monastery itself and its HUGE kitchen. I felt like I was in Land of the Giants (remember that series) as everything was just so super big, unreal.

The next day we were given the great news that Drago had managed with great effort to get tickets to go and see the Potola Palace. They have made the tickets very difficult to obtain and very expensive in an attempt to restrict numbers of people going in. The tickets themselves are 100 Yuan per person, but the permit (?) that goes with it is 300 Yuan, so you can guess who is behind that and where the money goes. The Potola Palace is where the Dalai Lama lived before he 'left' in 1956. It is just stunning. 999 rooms in all beautifully decorated with endless Buddhas and gold.

We had four days in total in Lhasa and just spent hours and hours walking around absorbing the atmosphere that sucks you in. We visited inside the Jokhang Temple, the Norbulingka (Summer Palace of Dalai Lama), Drepung Monastery, some caves and and and. Top of the World, wow!

Then when we had run out of things to do we decided to go and get a haircut for Michi. I tried to indicate again by sign language, that Michi would also like a head massage like the previous customer. She nodded as if she understood. Result. 10 minutes later after Michi had received his haircut, but no massage, I was invited to take his place in the chair. Curious, I obliged. She poured a cup of water over my head, added half a bottle of shampoo and started a hair wash/scratch/massage for no less than 30 minutes - the bubbles! They were so curious about my hair. She then started to give me a neck massage and concerned indicated that she had found a knot or three in my shoulder, and before I knew it I was getting a neck, back and arm massage with a bit of reflexology and goodness knows what else thrown in. Ouch, but oh so good for my old back which is giving up on me these days.

Reluctantly we left Lhasa for Gyantse where the Baiju Monastery, Pelkhor Chode, and Gyantse Dzong were on the menu. Although we got in late, we had just enough time to hike to the top of the hill and see the fort. It has to go down as one of the best forts I have ever seen, not that I have seen too many forts you understand. It' just I felt it was a 'real' fort, like the ones you had to draw in school, but never got to see anywhere. A real protective thick wall thing that blokes like and chicks fail to understand. The best part thought was the view from the top of the monastery we were due to visit the next day, so that was a bit of a bonus. So the next day we got up and did the Monastery and then drove to Shigatze to see Tashihunpo Monastery and Zhashenluntu Temple. Adjectives do not justify what we got to see. Stunning.

After all that culture, it was time for some cold mountain air and what a mountain! We drove passed Qinghai Lake en route to Rhongphuk where we stayed in a basic hotel. The men's toilet block was one up from a ruin and you could hardly get to the drop for piles and piles and piles of poo where people had missed the hole somewhat. Grim. As for the ladies, well the building had totally collapsed, and it was difficult to differentiate between rubble and poo. So the toilet really was anywhere you fancied, but there was nowhere to hide, no bushes, nothing. Four of us decided to check into the 10 times more expensive hotel which had recently been built just up the road. It wasn't terribly fancy, but at least they had a clean drop toilet, but no showers. It was very cold and damp in the building, but not half as grim as the dorms in the other place. The staff had to be seen to be believed. They were so unhelpful and friendly and difficult to find!

As we met for dinner in the adjoining 'restaurant', the clouds cleared and revealed the peak of Everest.

Some walked the 7 kms to Everest base camp others took advantage of the donkey and cart. Once we got to base camp all we could see was blue skies everywhere, with the exception of a solitary cloud, the biggest cloud you ever did see. And where do you suppose this cloud of all clouds was hovering? Correct, right over Everest, completely over Everest and nothing else. The wind was very strong, so we waited and waited as at some point that cloud would just have to move. Our patience was tested as we were rewarded with slight sighting of the base, which was promptly obscured again. Nothing happened for about an hour later when we were treated to see a little of the left side, then the right side, then the peak, but the cloud covered her up just after each revelation. Just as the cloud covered her completely again and we were resigned to the fact that that was all we were going to get so we might as well head back down, the sun came out, the wind blew a gale and the clouds vanished to reveal her in all her beauty. It was so majestic, so beautiful, it almost didn't look real! We posed for photos, took in the rays and the atmosphere for about an hour, and then the clouds returned. But we were fine about that by then. So more than elated we made our way back down to the truck.

We took the Friendship Highway 318 Lhasa to Kathmandu to a permanent camping spot called the Last Resort. The huge military tents were very cosy with 2 beds, raffia carpet, bedside tables, a luggage rack and a couple of deck chairs out the front. The tents were spaced well apart giving you lots of privacy. There was a great bar and restaurant area, clean toilets and funky showers overlooking the valley. You just chill or indulge in the bungee jumping they had set up on the bridge that connected the main road we were on to the camp itself. Scary bridge!

After three relaxing nights it was time to bring the trip to a close and descend into Kathmandu. At one point we seemed to turn a corner and the landscape changed from Tibetan Plateau to stunning Alpine Forest with a mixture of brilliant sunshine, cloud and rain.

So the trip had officially ended, but we had a day to do Kathmandu. Because time was tight and we only really had one full day, we had organized a full day guided tour by a local man recommended to me by friend. We got to see:

Swayambhu, better known as the Monkey Temple. We climbed up the steep steps to the temples and watched the locals make offerings. Here Buddhist and Hindus mingle in peace together. And yes, there were a few monkeys around the place too.

Bouddhanath - a huge stupa, Hanuman-Dhoka Durbar Square, Kumari-Ghar and even got to see Kumari herself. Kumari is a girl who is chosen as she is young and special, and she is then kept in a house and only displayed at a special annual festival. At aged 12-14, having served her purpose, she is 'released', but nobody will marry her as they fear bad luck. Up next was the Kasthamandap a huge temple believed to have been built out of a single tree. We ended the day on a cheerful note and got to see the locals cremating their dead at the Pashupati Nath. There is a tributary of the Ganges that runs in front of the buildings and here the sick and destitute come here to die as then they receive a cremation ritual. Families also bring their dead here, cover them in a white and orange cloth and then remove the clothing underneath the cloths. The eldest son of the family works around the covered corpse three times holding a stick which has been lit and then he places the flame in the mouth of the decease and then the wooden pyre is lit underneath.

Passes between Golmud and Lhasa

Dangjin Shankou Pass 3,519 M
Kunlun Pass 4,849 M
Fire and Wind Pass 4,930 M
Tanggula Pass 5,231 M
Kyogche La Pass 4,900 M

Between Lhasa and Shigatse

Shogula Pass 5,300 M

Between Shigatse and Kathmandu

Tropu La Pass 4,950 M
Gyatsola Pass 5,200 M
Lablungla Pass 5,050 M

]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/ny-la_and_la-ny/427032780/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/ny-la_and_la-ny/427032780/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/ny-la_and_la-ny/427032780/tpod.html Tue, 04 Aug 2009 02:09:32 -0400 24 states in 7 weeks. NY to LA south, and LA to NY north. A full Contiki Greyhound bus takes 45 excited passengers full circle around the USA

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New York City, New York, United States

"Doooo yooooou haaave enyyy cig-ur-ett-esss?" asked the slightly rounded, red-cheeked gentlemen in uniform in a heavy American accent.

"Ur... um... no, no you see, I don't smoke" I replied nervously.

"Doooo yooooou haaave enyyy alc-o-hol?" he continued like a stuck record showing that this wasn't his first time at posing these questions.

"No, no, I don't drink." came my reply, slightly less nervously and with an added forced smile which made me look guilty of something, even if it wasn't actually alcohol and cigarette smuggling!

"Doooo yooooou haaave enyyy pl-aaa-nt-sss, fr-oooo-t-sss or veg-i-er-tab-le-sss in your luggage?" dragging out words in a way I had never heard before. It was very intimidating.

"No, I don't have green fingers. Everything I try to grow just dies on me!" I babbled, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere.

Seemingly exasperated that he had not managed to find anything to justify refusing my entry into the USA, he looked me dead straight in the eye through his extra thick glasses, his mouth sagging in a downward direction devoid of any sign of muscles indicating he was capable of a smile, and stamped his official stamp with vigorous disappointment on my visa in my British passport and said:

"Gee, yuuurrr a lottaaa fun arrrrrr't you?!" and with a flick of his wrist indicated I could walk on through to the baggage lounge.

It was the 14th July 1983, I had just turned 21, and whilst I had spent my entire life moving around the world as a forces daughter, I had just made my first ever journey without my parents. High Wycombe to JFK, New York, not very romantic I grant you, but I was feeling very adult, very daring, but absolutely terrified all at the same time. New York was just so big and imposing. Seeing armed police patrolling the streets in groups of six didn't exactly fill me with great confidence either! So I locked myself in my basic hotel room and worked on my plan for the next day which was free before the official Contiki group trip started.

I decided on the standard vanilla guided 8 hour city tour of New York and got to see: Fifth Avenue, the Rockerfella Centre, Twin Towers, World Trade Centre, Empire State Building and its scary lift - nought to sixty, or ground floor to observatory on 102nd floor, in a blink of an eye, Statue of Liberty (including inside), posh houses of how the other half live, Central Park, the place where John Lennon was murdered, Bronx, Manhattan and Harlem. Beats a day in the office!

That evening there was the Contiki pre-departure meeting in the form of a cocktail party to get to know the group of about 40 passengers, comprising of a cross-section of people, all ages, sizes, professions and backgrounds from all over the world.

They're off! Our cosy (or packed!) Greyhound coach took us to Lexington, Philadelphia to see the Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell with its huge crack running right through it.

On to Washington D.C. and my first camping experience since the Brownies! I thought pegs were things you use to hang out the washing! After we had made camp and eaten what was to become our standard dinner, a BBQ, we toured Washington by night - Washington Monument, Kennedy Centre, Museums, Jefferson Memorial, the Lincoln Centre and Capitol Hill.

The next day we got to see the same again, but this time by daylight plus the Whitehouse, the Aeronautic and Space Museum, the History Museum (which housed the largest cut diamond in the world - at that time anyway!), before heading out to the Arlington cemetery, which, as with all military cemeteries was very moving.

Next up colonial Williamsburg where they have set up the town as a replica of how life was back in the 18th century, including actors in 18th century costumes for added effect. In the repro dining room there was a very much alive stern butler bossing us about as if we were the servants. Leave me alone, I'm on holiday! Other actors played out the roles of craftsmen including a shoemaker, a basket weaver, a printer, a barrel maker and some lady (of course) servants cooking dinner over an open fire. All a bit touristy, but that said, it was quite well done.

Set off for Nashville stopping off at Winston Salem, North Carolina, to visit the cigarette factory. In Nashville itself we visited Studio B Hall of Fame featuring music industry memorabilia from the 1950s including Elvis Presley's famous golden Cadillac with its plush interior and everything a star could possibly need for a day out on the road, in the 50s.

As a group we went to the nearby Country Crossroads recording studio where the public are given the opportunity to be pop stars for the duration of a tune and record their favourite number for posterity. Remember, this is in the days before Karaoke was known about, well in the West at least. So Contiki in their wisdom, picked out the classic "Country roads, take me home" - an easy song to massacre. We entered our small glass studio, took on the pop star pose of placing one hand on each of the huge round headphones which had been supplied to each of us, and stood in front of a microphone pulling faces as we tried to hit the right notes, with varying degrees of success, and collectively managed to totally destroy the song! The noise hurt my ears we were so off key. As the saying goes I USED to like that song! Not one to give in, (Taurus trait) I demonstrated my musical (in)capabilities and strummed a guitar and tinkled on a piano and successfully managed to empty the room in seconds. Don't people recognize talent when they see it? Obviously yes!

Having failed miserably in our musical talents, we snuck out the back quietly and drove through Knoxville en route to Memphis, Tennessee to visit Gracelands, the once home of Elvis the Pelvis, with a cedar tree trunk as a coffee table - what else? His grave, and that of his family, are in the garden and it is all very tastefully done with moving words on the gravestones adorned with lots of flowers, teddy bears and other pressies from the hundreds of thousands of fans that pass through every year.

Crossing over the largest causeway in the world we hit the 24 hour party city of New Orleans. Irrespective of where you walk, or the time of day or night, there is just wall to wall music coming out of every corner of the city, mainly blues and jazz, which to be honest I don't normally like, but the atmosphere kind of draws you in and before you know it you are drinking a beer and tapping your foot on the floor along with all the locals.

As a new day dawned, and having missed out on our hotel bed, we took in a boat ride on a paddle steamer down the great Mississippi River, but not before most indulged in some energy food and bought a burger from the only floating McDonalds in the world - even back then you couldn't go far without encountering Ronnie McDonald! Love him or hate him, you have to admire the business success of the company.

Less interesting for the girls, but more for the boys, the NASA space centre, Houston, Texas was the next highlight on the agenda. More entertaining for the ladies later on was watching the failed would-be rocket scientists and astronauts trying to be men on the bucking rodeo bull in the bar at Gilley's Rodeo Bar, where they were promptly thrown off in seconds along with their pride and manhood.

San Antonia and a visit to the Alamo were next before a day and night R&R at Circle R Dude Ranch in Bandera, where they subjected us to a dreadful country and western singer around a campfire at night. Like listening to nails down a chalkboard it was! But we all just smiled and clapped politely at the right intervals and drank more beer to ease the pain. All part of the great outdoor experience!

Up at 'silly o'clock' or the crack of dawn as it is also known, for the long drive to El Paso. Everyone fell out of the sacks and into their coach seat and fell asleep straight away except for me as I watched the orange sun wake up and fill the sky, gorgeous. Eventually crossed the Mexican border for a couple of hours shopping before heading back to El Paso.

Time for the girls to do what they do best, dressing up. Time to put on the glad rags and pose for a photo with a 19th century backdrop of a shop in Durango, Colorado. Costumes for the boys were pretty standard, boring and forgettable. For the girls there was a whole wardrobe to choose from - everything from a glam lady to a prostitute, although I am sure there were cries of "I have nothing to wear!". Decisions, decisions. I went for the stunning silk, full length, off the shoulder, 'v' cut royal blue number, with white lace trim on the circle of the skirt and the 'v' cut. To set off the dress there was a matching hat with white feathers and a white parasol - eat your heart out Scarlet O Hara. The colour was to die for! It was a real taste of being a model as they just threw the 'one size fits all' clothes on you, zipped you in and spent exactly 5 seconds making alternations to ensure the 'perfect' fit by pulling excess material from your waist to your back and securing it with the biggest bull dog clip 'I ever did see'. Haute couture at its very best, darling! Maybe this is where punk fashion first started! They sat me down on a chair, spread the dress out to show the full extent of the circle of material, got me to sit up straight and got me to hold the parasol correctly. The stunning blue colour was kind of lost on the photos, as to give the shots a realistic look they were, of course, black and white. On strict instructions of the photographer that no smiles were allowed, we all gave the camera our most serious stare, making the photos very 19th century - it was just the bikini strap marks from the sun tan (or burn as it's also known!) that kind of gave it away! When I got the photos home, some people thought it was a photo of my granny in her younger days!

Not my cup of tea, but a few hours were spent at the rodeo, a real one, not put on for us tourists, and we got a taste of the wild West. All very impressive how they catch cattle and manage to stay on bucking bulls, but all a bit cruel for my taste, but it's all in the day of a life of a cowboy.

En route to Grand Canyon we stopped off at the Four Corners where, as the name suggests, the four corners of Colorado, New Mexico, Utah and Arizona meet. We drove through the endlessly stunning Arizona "Painted Desert" with its rock formations with more shades of orange, brown and red than one can imagine. Got to the Grand Canyon just in time to see the sunset before camping nearby in tepees - with a space for real fire inside and everything!

Up early for our helicopter ride over the Grand Canyon to get the full feeling of the vastness of the place. The helicopter pad was conveniently situated right near the tepees, so we just fell out of bed into the helicopter seat. I am a nervous flyer, and had never been in a helicopter before, so the vertical takeoff was a well weird experience - how does it do that? But helicopter is the only way to go to see and appreciate the Canyon. They supplied us with headphone so they could give us information as we flew over the Canyon. To set the scene and build up the tension the tape started off with the dramatic theme tune of, name escapes me, but goes, da............da...............da da, with the final da da timed to play just as we reached the entrance of the Grand Canyon itself! I almost lost my stomach with excitement and I suddenly got goose bumps!. Best part of the flight for me (apart from it being over of course) was seeing the Snoopy rock - it really is Snoopy lying on his back, but where's Sue? The flight should only have lasted around 20 minutes, but due to pilot error, he lost his way(?!) or something, and we got 40 minutes instead - the tourist wins at last!

I took the easy option and spent the rest of the day trekking on the edge of the Canyon whilst other more brave souls ventured further down into the Canyon itself. Evening was of course spent watching the sunset, which gave the rocks a totally different colour and mood.

What time is it? All very confusing at the Hoover Damn as it was built between two state borders on a time zone. After the obligatory photo stop to admire the engineering achievement of the damn, we drove passed Lake Mead, before arriving at another 24 hour city with an electricity bill not to be jealous of, Las Vegas. We checked into our hotels, as it was too hot to camp(?). However, as with New Orleans, we didn't need a bed as we spent the whole night and next day in the casinos taking advantage of all the freebies on offer to entice you into their club: free drinks, nibbles, t-shirts and all kinds of other useful 'must have' rubbish. I gave myself a budget to "lose" on the slot machines, but even after a night out, I managed to break even. Result!

The best entertainment though had to be people watching. All those Americans, obviously regular visitors to the casinos, hugging their huge Tupperware containers filled to bursting with dimes, quarters and dollars as if it were their most valued possession. They literally 'kidnap' an aisle of slot machines, with a row of machines on either side, and spend the night running up and down the aisle putting a coin in the machine, pulling down the handle and running to the next machine. Once they have done both sides of the aisle they start again, collecting any winnings as they return to the machines. God help anyone who tried to 'steal' one of their machines on 'their' territory. They stay on the row for hours and hours, figuring that the law of averages means that eventually the machine will pay out! Dream on!

That said, when we were there in the early hours, there was suddenly the sound of alarm bells and flashing lights over one slot machine. From out of nowhere came 6 burly security guards who surrounded the machine and the person standing in front of it. The visitor had won $21,000 from the $1 machine and the machine was making the most unbelievable noise as it pounded out the winnings in $1 coins. I am not sure that all $21,000 came out in dollar coins, I think that was just a promotion exercise and after a while the pile of coins was scooped up and the bounty together with the winner was escorted by the 6 bodyguards to the cash desk to be presented with a cheque (or check for the Americans reading this) - probably closely followed by the IRS! That got everyone smiling and even keener to get back to their machines as one day it would be their turn to win.

From one extreme to the other. From the loudness of machines and thousands of excitable people in Las Vegas to the eerie silence of Calico Ghost Town, population - tumbleweed. Where's the road out please?

More contrasts at Universal Studios where you are given a glimpse into the movie world and the tricks of the trade. You'll never watch a film in the same light again. The highlight was a trip on water, well it was meant to be an ocean, with a guest appearance from the one and only Jaws, teeth and all, trying to get into the boat, very realistic and created more than a few screams from the surprised passengers I can tell you. We nearly fell in!

Disneyland was wasted on me. I am just too much of a coward to go on the high speed rides! The "it's a small world" boat ride floating around on a calm pond in a cave was just about my limit, with sea sickness tablets to hand of course! I suddenly became the most popular person on the trip when my use to queue for others was discovered. So my day was spent queuing, while the others tried their best to scare themselves to death and make themselves feel really ill. Um why?!

After the fun of the fare, we had dinner in the Bath Tub Restaurant - exactly that, you sit in renovated old fashioned cast iron claw feet baths with cushions on them for that added comfort factor, and dinner is then served to you on a table impregnated with coins from all over the world and on the walls is a collection of number plates. The salad bar was a yellow convertible car, with every conceivable salad and salad dressing beautifully displayed on the inside of the car. No idea of the model, cars are not my strong point! Strange combination, but it works!

Relaxing visit to Pismo beach and lunch at the Danish town of Solvang with its windmills. What is it about windmills? Everyone, including me, loves them?! Always fancied renovating a windmill and living in it.

More coastal driving to Monterey reaching San Francisco to do the obligatory bus tour incorporating the Golden Gate, houses of the rich and famous, the tram, the hilly streets and Fisherman's Wharf with yummy seafood. Electric atmosphere, just so much going on.

City life was exchanged for the peace and tranquility of miles and miles of stunning scenery and waterfalls on a bike around Yosemite National Park. Weeks of much inactivity took its toll on most, ouch my poor behind!

The route across North America gave us a lot of lakes so we spent time walking, cycling and horse trailing around Bass Lake, Camanchi Lake, Stockton and Lake Tahoe also in Stockton, not forgetting Silver Lake and Caples Lake.

A lunch stop at forgettable Elko and a short casino visit in Reno, Nevada were next on the itinerary, but once you've done Las Vegas it's just not the same - getting fussy now!

After a few hours driving we stopped at what looked like a vast piece of sand/or desert, but no, we were told it was the Boneville Salt Flats where land speed records are made. Not quite what I had expected. You had to look really close to see any salt. Amazing what preconceived ideas you have about a place and then are disappointed. This was the case here for me, all very uninspiring, but again, the boys enjoyed the idea of speed and danger. Must be a gender thing!

Salt Lake City with its Temple Square, Mormon Temple, Bringham Young's statue and horse and the Eagle Gate were all very clinical. The whole place had a strange feel about it, and everywhere you went you felt that eyes were following you. We were pressured into going into a church for the experience of a Mormon speech/service. And when we left, they tried to convert us - run for the hills!

Jackson Hole was our next port of call followed by Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming which is apparently seven times larger than Yosemite, wow!

Playful thermal geysers at Grand Teton Park provided us with a lot of entertainment and admiration. The best known is "Old Faithful", so called because it erupts with such regularity you can set your watch by it - is it Swiss made?

Quickly drove through Cheyenne, Dodge City, Kansas City where we had time to take in a baseball match (yawn, how much longer?) and I got burned to a cinder as there was absolutely no shade for my fair, sensitive skin.

On the approach to St. Louis, Missouri the city is flanked by an impressive arch which from a distance looked like a thin piece of metal to me, ready to snap. In fact I think it's offices and not made of metal at all! Just another American city.

Took in a guided tour of the Budweiser beer factory and drove passed Lake Michigan before arriving in the windy city of Chicago. Once you get there, you understand why - boy does that wind howl! Saw the only building to survive the 1871 Fire of Chicago as well as Sears Tower and the Panoramic views.

Quickly drove through industrial Detroit to cross into Canada, passing Lake Ontario. We were treated to the Canadian side of Niagara Falls with its magical horseshoe shape. Then back into the USA to view the Falls from that side and took the Maid of the Mist boat ride. The boat takes you right close up and personal to the Falls and you get absolutely drenched in spite of the protective clothing you are given when you board the boat. At night there is a spectacular light show which lights up the Falls in all shades of the rainbow, stunning. The amount of water that passes over the Fall is just phenomenal.

Having made a full circle New York to LA along the south coast and then LA to New York along the North coast, I ended up back in my basic hotel in New York with just enough time to take in Central Park and do some last minute shopping before flying home to start my new job. Back to life, back to reality!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/18/1249303591/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/18/1249303591/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/18/1249303591/tpod.html Mon, 03 Aug 2009 09:26:02 -0400 Gorilla trip in Rwanda

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Kigali, Rwanda

We arrived safely in Nairoberry after quite a bumpy flight, via Amsterdam. Got to the hotel only to be given a grotty room for $96! It was late, we were tired, the hotel was full as a conference was taking place, and as we were leaving very early the next day it was hardly worth discussing it with the two receptionists (2 people who really shouldn't be in customer service!) as it wouldn’t have changed anything except my blood pressure, so we didn’t complain. However, when we returned a few days later I made sure we got one of the new renovated rooms.

We set off on our 4 day safari to the Maasai Mara, Lake Flamingo and Lake Nakuru. Tourism has been hit very hard here due to the tribal unrest last year and of course the world economic crisis. However, that was good for us as it meant it was just the two of us on our trip so we had the run of the Land Rover and the trip itinerary! We also just about had the run of the place in the permanent tented camps. The permanent tents were a lot better than I expected, but are not the luxury ones you see on TV. They were clean, roomy and more than adequate with an en suite bathroom, or a stone building with a water source….All the lodges fetching $350-850 per night, yes that isn't a typo, are empty, strange that! Our $7 permanent tent was very nice thank you even if the water was a bit chilly.

The Masai Mara was just amazing with the open grasslands and backdrop of stunning scenery. The wildlife wasn’t prolific, but what we did get to see was great. We even got to see the elusive leopard so Kaz a happy bunny!

After 2 nights there we drove to the soda lake, Lake Flamingo, to chill out before driving to Nakura NP. We were meant to have just 2 hours there before driving back to Nairobi, but spent 4 as the driver felt guilty about not finding the cheetah I was jokingly demanding - difficult customer! We didn't get to find them, but did get to see a dozen White Rhino in all, which is no mean thing!

As I mentioned, we did get a posh new room when we got back into Nairobi. We enjoyed a relaxing afternoon by the pool, drank a couple of ice cold beers and had a local meal, Chinese! Then it was time to catch the shuttle bus to Tanzania to meet up with our 5 day safari.

The 'roads’ between Nairobi and Moshi in Tanzania are appalling to say the least. It took us 11 instead of 7 hours to reach our destination. We got in at 18:00 absolutely exhausted. In the morning we were met by our new driver and cook again to be told that it was just the two of us, perfect. This safari took in the Mayanmara NP, the Serengeti and the Ngorongoro Crater. We had an exceptional day in the Serengeti, including an attempted lion kill right in front of our vehicle. We annoyed a lot of people as they had been waiting around the small pool of water for 1.5 hours waiting for the lions to go for the kill. We turned up, stopped and then it happened, right in front of us! Timing is everything! I managed to get 3 photos and then it was over as the buffalo made a quick escape. One of the two lionesses who had chased the buffalo went back to the bush where a third lioness was snoozing. She promptly gave her a thump with her paw as if to say "and where the hell were you when we needed you? We just lost our only chance of lunch today, cheers!" I have never seen a lion kill or attempted kill before, so that was excellent. We managed to see the big five over all the national parks plus a lot of other animals, so we can tick the box and move on.

Camping at the 'camp site' in the Serengeti was a barrel of laughs as it is basically slap bang in the middle of the NP. Tourists are advised to stay within the area marked with flags hanging on trees to minimize the danger. Trouble is the animals don't understand the meaning of the flags and, as it is their back garden, they just come through anyway, fair enough. We went to bed in our tent and a few minutes later we heard a loud noise outside our tent. Michi asked what the hell is that? I replied an elephant eating grass at the back of our tent. Oh was the reply. They also started to break down tree trunks and branches. On the second night we also had a lot of elephants pass through, but also some charging zebra following the migration route behind our tent. Our leader told us that at the height of the migration season there are also a lot of lions in the campsite who chase the zebra, so I counted ourselves lucky! Just to add to the excitement, Michi had a really bad stomach on the first night and we went to the toilet block together - safety in numbers. As it was pitch black, as there is no electricity at the ‘camp’, you didn’t have a chance to see the animals to avoid them. We had our torch, but I sure didn’t want to be looking up the nostril of an elephant. Michi was up at least once an hour and in the toilet for about half an hour each time. I had the pleasure of standing outside the gents for the duration in the pitch black sometimes putting on my flashlight and scanning the area. Not sure why, coz if I had seen anything close up I guess I would have been a big girl and screamed! The advice from our intrepid leader should we encounter any animals was not to play with them - oooohhhh I see! Anyway we came away unhurt. We managed to change our long return shuttle bus journey from 2p.m. to 8a.m which meant getting up at 4a.m. as we had to drive to Arusha to catch it, but at least that gave us time for another Hilton coffee and croissant, shower, laundry pick up, internet, a cold beer and dinner in Nairobi.

The next day we left for our flight to Kigali where we were met by our final driver/leader. He kindly agreed to drive us to the SOS Children Village in Kigali so I could meet Faith, one of 6 children I have just started to sponsor. The village is very well set up and has almost 100 orphans. The children, led by Faith, met us with a bunch of flowers and we were invited to join them for lunch. Faith is very shy, but after some time did warm to us and at the end she asked if I would ever come and visit again. Maybe that maternal gene is there somewhere! The place is very well run and the staff is just amazing and dedicated. The 'mother' was almost beside herself with tears when we arrived. She's been the mum there for 20 years and looks like Mammy from Gone with the Wind, such a wonderful human being. By the time we got to the Genocide Museum it was shut, they had closed early, so we headed out on our 3 hour drive to Kinigi, our base for the silverback gorilla trek.

This is my 4th attempt at trying to see the gorillas. On previous occasions my trip has been cancelled due to rebel fighting, tourist killings, war etc etc. I think my friends crossed everything for us as we got dry, sunny, perfect weather, not too hot, not too cold. Also we were VERY lucky as we only walked for about 1/2 and hour before we found the little darlings, so of course Michi was disappointed not to get a workout! The day before, another group walked a total of 9 hours, so I counted us as very fortunate. From the time you spot them you get exactly 1 hour to minimize the impact on their lives.

Sadly the gorilla photos are pretty average, coz the light wasn't great, so we just tried to enjoy the experience. However, we did get 3 shots with the daddy silverback, Michi and I, one for the family photo album, VERY close up! Michi also had a close encounter with a silverback as it ran by him - a little frightening for Michi, but came away unhurt! We were the first group back in time for lunch.

In the afternoon we were both suddenly absolutely exhausted. It's been an action packed 2 weeks and everything went to plan. We squashed the Genocide Museum in on the way to the airport. There was a memorial service going on which is a pretty frequent event by all accounts to ensure the “never again” message doesn't disappear, but we’ve had that before haven’t we e.g. WWII and Cambodia to mention just two? The world just doesn't seem to learn from history…………
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/17/1231830900/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/17/1231830900/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/17/1231830900/tpod.html Tue, 10 Feb 2009 05:00:20 -0500 Central America

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Mexico City, Central Mexico and Gulf Coast, Mexico

I thought the date would never come, but finally it was time for us to go on holiday to the first half of Central America taking in Mexico, Belize, Guatemala and Honduras! We were collected by our taxi at 04:00 for the short flight to Frankfurt and then a 7 hour stop over before the onward flight to Mexico City. We landed on time to find out that only 3 of our 4 bags had come through. Michi was annoyed and I said he shouldn't worry, we could go shopping the next day and we had plenty of time to let the bag catch us up. Obviously confused at my unusual calmness and lack of totally losing the plot, he then pointed out that his bag had come through; it was mine that was missing. What?! My bag?! What a disaster! But of course I couldn´t show any emotion so I just carried on filling in the lost baggage report and started to plan my first day in Mexico City shopping for knickers and t-shirts! Just as we had finished filing the lost luggage report, a nice baggage man came to the counter saying that my bag had been rejected for the onward flight to Antigua as it wasn´t checked through, so the day was saved! And breathe......

When you get to Mexico City airport you don´t get into a cab, you buy a prepaid ticket for the taxi and then go find the firm that matches your ticket as there are several such companies, which we didn't know at the time. However, we managed to find our taxi firm straight away and safely arrived at our hotel. With hotel voucher in hand they were waiting for us and checked us in, so everything went to plan! In total we needed 24 hours door to door. We were both so tired that we were awake if you get my drift so we went downstairs to grab a snack and in an attempt to beat the jet lag went to bed at 22hrs. Of course by 02:00 we had given up on any chance of getting any sleep and we were both WIDE AWAKE. So we got up, repacked our packed rucksacks - a common disease amongst overlanders - recounted our counted money and did the equivalent of a day's work in the office by 06:00. We went out into the freezing cold (minus 2 or so) - boy I wasn´t expecting cold weather, but Mexico City is above 2,300 M so go figure - to find the 24 hr place and grabbed a snack and coffee.

Mexico City is the world's most populated city with over 26 million people and I think most of them were shopping in the street where our hotel is located! Mexico is the site of numerous advanced Amerindian civilizations, the most famous of which being the Olmecs, Toltecs, Aztecs and Mayans. And this trip aims to give us an insight into these civilizations.

Fully refreshed and freezing cold we got out the Rough Guide and headed for the Zocalo = main square to see the main cathedral catedral y sagrario metropolitano, the church next door and the government building placio nacional, which was closed for the two days we were there for a security meeting and was surrounded strangely enough by security people. The highlight though had to be the ruins of Teocali. Basically Mexico City is built on top of the ancient Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan. The ruins of Teocali were discovered in 1978 and reveal 7 layers of ruins as the civilizations built on top of previous civilizations, all very interesting.

Shortly after that we were interviewed by some school kids who had been told to grab some poor passing tourist and ask how they like Mexico, Mexican food, Tequila etc. And then of course a group photo on their mobile phone, so we obliged. On we went to take in the Alameda Central, Palacio Bellas Artes, which is a opera house come theatre with a glass roof, a couple of leaning churches damaged during the big earthquake 20 some years ago and finally China Town where we decided to eat as the Mexican food doesn´t really do it for us, it´s very bland despite all the rumours that the food is hot and spicy. Well I have yet to meet anyone who cooks as spicy food as we do. Just luv hot food!

On our second day in Mexico City we visited the Santa Domingo church which wasn´t actually on our route, hum! We got lost and stumbled upon it. We got lost several times, but it turned out to be for the good as we got to see all kinds of buildings we wouldn´t have seen otherwise and they were all very interesting, mainly churches, but all the same, very interesting. Two great churches were Santa Vera Cruz which was also badly damaged in the earthquake, so much so that when you stood in front of it you could help leaning to one side to see how it would look if it were straight! Also when you entered the church, you really could feel that the floor was on a slope big time. I didn´t hang around for too long as one day it will fall down, and I sure don´t want that to be the day I am in there! Opposite this church as the Sun Juan de Dios, also a nice church. Some of the buildings have pretty tiles on the outside, very South American actually - one such famous house is the Casa de los Azulelos and opposite that is the San Felipe de Jesus church. After more wondering around getting lost we bumped into the Place of the Revolution which is apparently the largest triumph in the world - be that as it may, it sure ain't the prettiest! Next to it is a museum about the revolution and although it was all in Spanish it was very interesting. Amazing how much you can understand with pictures and objects.

That evening it was time to finally meet our Tucan leader (my first Tucan trip, but they have a good reputation) and the peeps on our trip. Generally a young group, bar myself of course, one mum (who came with her daughter, would you?) and two guys who came leaving their wives and kids at home (again would you, well the answer to this one is probably yes!). Group mainly Aussies and Kiwis, but a good group, pretty easy going. The leader Birgit is actually German, has lived in Mexico for 14 years, had been a Tucan leader for 4 and this is her last trip as she wants to study so she can get some official piece of paper which will allow her to give tours around other Mexican ruins, which is apparently difficult because of all the regulations. She seems to be very well organized, obviously German! We went out for the usual group meal with the usual group meal chaos at the end. I just hate it. The Mexicans don´t understand the idea of separate bills and people can't add up and conveniently forget to include the service and tax which is added on to the end of the bill, leave what they believe to be their share of the bill (but knowing it isn't really) and then leave so the rest of us can pick up the tab!

Next day we drove out to Teotihuacan ruins built in 300 BC. I managed to conquer the 3 pyramids we were allowed to climb, and they weren't as bad as I feared - the highest was the sun pyramid, only 70 metres, but the steps are quite steep, but after Angkor Wat I think I can handle any pyramid climb! We climbed the pyramids of the moon, sun and after walking down the street of death finally climbed La Ciudadela which consists of one temple below another and is covered with carvings of snakes, birds and skulls.

It was so nice to leave Mexico City. It is very busy, dirty and the air is just full of very nasty car fumes. We drove to Pueblo which means City of Angels and is a colonial town built around 1531 famous for talavera tiles on buildings. It´s just wonderful, I could move there! Again the centre is the Zocalo and it seems most towns have one. Every evening at most Zocalos there is free entertainment, anything from comedians, to jugglers, to street performers all doing there stuff in front of the public. Families gather there by the hundreds. This particular square was beautifully lit by the cathedral and of course the Xmas decorations, just can't get away from it can you? Dinner was the local speciality of chilli chocolate (Mole Poblano). I had cheese stuffed pancakes covered (or swimming in as it is also known!) in this chocolate sauce. All very rich and didn´t really go together, so I just scrapped off the chocolate and ate the pancakes, but it had a really odd taste. I not sure if it was the flour in the pancakes, the fat they fry them in, the bland cheese or the chocolate that was causing the odd taste, but sure don´t need it again!

The next half day was free to explore the cathedral, but every time we tried to take photos inside we were stopped as there was always a service going on and they don´t allow it. We came back about 4 times, but always the same. How people have so much time to go to all these services? The place is packed full of churches, so we spent a lot of time going in and around them, just beautiful, but the best has to be the St. Domingo church which was impressive even when we went in as the altar is stunning. However, we didn´t quite get why Birgit had gone on an on about how wonderful it was. Fortunately, we went right up close to the altar which we don´t usually do, and just to my left I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. And boy was it ever. There was like a huge iced cake, so much gold and ornamental carvings around a figure, a huge figure, of the Virgin Mary. It was just gob smackingly beautiful. It was right on the border line of beautiful and ugly, tasteful and not, A bit over the top, but somehow stunning. We sat there for quite a while in awe of it and of course took lots of photos.

Churched out we drove to Oaxaca which is pronounced wa-ha-ka, and you wonder why I don´t get Spanish! Oaxaca is a World Heritage Site famous for arts and crafts as well as colonial architecture. We stopped off to see some giant cactus trees, drove over some very unimpressive canyon and then got an orientation walk from Birgit of the city of Oaxaca - she does this every time we get to a new place. And as with many of the cities there was another impressive Santa Domingo church with lots of gold.

We drove out to Monte Alban, the capital of the pre-Aztec Zapotecs and one of the oldest cities in Meso America. The pyramids, terraces, tombs and sculptures are built on a hill overlooking the city. Free afternoon to explore more inside the cathedral, the Santa Domingo church, visit the incredible former convent (Lady of Sol, Basilica de Soledad 1692) which has been beautifully restored into a hotel, (what else?!) and more churches etc. etc.

Shortly after leaving Oaxaca we visited the HUGE Tule tree reputed to be some 2000 years old and apparently the largest tree in the world, not the tallest, but the widest. It is kept within a fence to stop some idiot chopping it down and they have a special water sprinkling system to make sure it gets all the TLC it needs. Then it was time to try a drop of the local brew, tequila of course. We stopped off not at the tequila factory, but one of the many Mezcal (like Tequila) factories (a bit like champagne can only be called champagne if it is made in the Champagne region of France) where they cook the palms from the trees for 10 to 14 days depending on the weather conditions, do some other stuff with it which was beyond me and then distil it. We tasted it from the rough young stuff through to the smoother more mature stuff. I waited until the creamy ones came out and found one that didn´t taste at all of Tequila, but of Baileys, what a find! So a few of us bought a bottle - in the interests of supporting the local economy you understand, and waited for a special place to open it, like that evening! Well it would be rude not to now wouldn't it? At least mine doesn´t have a worm in it! A short drive later we stopped off at the Zapotec/Mixtec ruins of Mitla, which means place of the dead, a small but special place famous for its mosaics on the buildings.

To break up our journey to San Cristobal, we stopped off at the small Zapotec town of Tehuantepec, which just has a nice hotel, so we ate dinner and had an early night as we were leaving next day at 06:00 to Chiapas State. What a day this was, not for the faint hearted, or wimps. A really windy up and down road for 5 hours, got off the bus to get on a speed boat for 1.5 hours down the Grijalva River to see the Sumidero Canyon, over 1,000 metres deep at its deepest point (mainly got to see some birdlife, but also a couple of crocs) and then back on the bus again for another 3 hours of windy roads. Help! All I was missing was a flight! If I tell you the trip notes told us it might be a good idea to have travel sickness tablets to hand, you might get my drift.

Finally we arrived at San Cristobal de las Casas, another colonial town where the indigenous Mayas live. We rushed around for our orientation walk and then signed up for a show Palenque Rojo which is the mythical story of the Mayan Ruler Kan Joy Chitam II, son of the great ruler Pakal II and brother of the notable Kan Balam II. It is their lineage which gave splendour to the majestic city of Palenque (where we visit later). The two great cities of Palenque and Tonina fought to control the commercial route from the Gulf of Mexico to the heart of the Peten. The story is about the kidnapping of the Ruler Kan Joy Chitam. The costumes were very good and some actors were animals and they moved very well. I am not a keen theatre goer at the best of times. It was shall we say different!

Next day we took a five hour guided tour around two Mayan villages to learn more about the indigenous culture of the Chiapas region, but although we were promised it wouldn´t be the usual tourist show, it was, and we were all very disappointed. We spent the afternoon taking in the attractions of San Cristobal, usual Zocalo, cathedral and of course many churches and markets.

In the morning we just had time to visit the Museum Na Bolom which houses the archaeological finds and anthropological studies on the Lacandon Indians in the former house of Trudy and Franz Blom. I think they were from Denmark and Switzerland, one a doctor and one a photographer, and they spent many years learning about these people who still exist today, albeit not very many of them.

Then more windy roads from San Cristobal through the mountains and Lacandon Cloud Forest. We should have stopped off for a picnic lunch at the Agua Azul Natural Reserve and the waterfalls, but 4 tour buses were held at gunpoint the previous week and the tourists were robbed of all their money, passports and cameras. Fortunately, nobody was hurt, but Birgit didn´t want to risk it so we drove by. There was a slight police presence, but I think that was a usual police check point not because of these new events. All feeling a bit sick and dizzy we finally arrived at Palenque in time for a just a short orientation wobble, I mean walk, as to quote the guide book, the town of Palenque only exists to cater for the tourists who come there to visit the Maya ruins of Palenque. That may be the case, but can someone please explain to us why then every second shop is a shoe shop?! Everything from flip flops to cowboy boots! There were a couple of good restaurants and a coffee shop so we had a good feed and a well needed caffeine fix.

Fairly early start for the short drive to the Palenque ruins, one of the most beautiful Maya archaeological sites in Mexico, and met our guide who was just fantastic. His English was perfect and he knew his stuff. The site houses a series of hilltop temples and pyramids surrounded by jungle. They have only discovered, or should I say revealed about 5% of the site. The rest is so covered by jungle that it is difficult to get to. The jungle has understandably been put under a protection ruling to prevent people just going in there and chopping everything down to explore further. Money for further excavation is tight as any funds earmarked for further exploration don't seem to hit the site, mmmm. That said they are now using special equipment to determine what the other pyramids and temples might contain or determine what their uses may have been. It is unlikely that much more of the site will be uncovered. They think they have found the most important parts - no idea how they can possibly know that if 95% is still a mystery! After the main tour he took us through part of the jungle where you stumble across countless un-excavated ruins enveloped in the jungle.

Good news is that the weather first thing in the morning and late in the evening no longer requires additional layers of clothing, so how happy am I?! Daytime temperatures have been hot all the time, but at higher altitudes it´s a bit nippy first thing and going out on the tiles.

We left Palenque and the state of Chiapas behind us and entered the lowlands of the Yucatan Peninsula. We followed the coastline of the Gulf of Mexico to spend a night in the fortified city of Campeche, which is an old fortified city right on the coast, once attacked by pirates. Remains of city walls and fortresses are abundant.

More ruins were on the cards next day at the Mayan ruins of Uxmal in the Puuc hills of Yucatan state. I think this site goes down as my second favourite after Palenque, but we have more to come so subject to change. Very peaceful setting and different again from the others. Here we explored the Temple of the Magician and the face of Chac, the rain God, very important in those days for crops and general survival as, unlike most other Maya sites, Uxmal had no natural source of water and relied totally on rainwater. Three hours drive later we arrived in another colonial city, the 'White City' and capital of the Yucatan region Merida, a very busy and bustling town. We did a free walking tour given by a local guide for an hour and a half taking in the Zocola, cathedral, Governor's building, the markets and the anthropological museum which is very well presented. We had the most amazing (but mega bucks on our budget!) dinner of sea bass (huge fillet) on a bed of spinach and garlic with rice, veggies and salad. So good we decided to blow the budget on the second night. Well the food has been pretty mediocre up until know, so just in case....

A short drive took us to the much anticipated Mayan site at Chichen Itza. This is one of the new 7 wonders of the world, so now I have seen them all, tick the box! The main pyramid is stunning, but tourists are no longer allowed to climb the steep steps as a tourist recently fell down them and died. The acoustics in the main opening at the top of the pyramid are wicked - the local guide clapped three times and the noise that echoed out of the opening at the top was totally different, nothing like a clap at all, just deep tones. This is where the Mayan top guys would shout out messages, but as they could not be seen by the crowds below, they believed the Gods were talking to them, all very powerful. Apparently the pyramid was built with such precision that a shadow serpent descends down the steps during the equinox.

Michi finally got to see a ball court, about which he has heard and read a lot and was looking forward to seeing one. Here is where a ball game was played out by two teams. Just to make it all worthwhile to play your best, the captain of the winning team was killed by the losing captain as a sacrifice to the gods and then cremated. There was a debate for many years as to who was actually sacrificed. Originally it was believed it was the losing captain who lost his head, but now they say that does not make sense - to sacrifice a loser to the Gods would be offensive, not an offering, so they came up with this theory that the winning captain was a more likely option. Mmmmmm. Took in the many other ruins, but again only 5% has been revealed so far, but it is an awesome site.

After a picnic lunch we drove the 3 hours to Cancun. What can I say? Hell on earth, worse than anticipated if that were possible. Where is the road out?! We are actually staying a bit out of the main hotel beach drag, as us overlanders can´t afford the five start luxury beach hotels. However, on the first day there we hopped on the 60 cent bus into the Hotel City and got off at one of the many stops to visit a so called public beach. Well whoopie da. Hotel after hotel after hotel, we reckon from the map about 20 to 25 kms worth. If I had flown in after a long flight, been delivered to my expensive 5 star hotel and told this was my bed for the next 2 weeks and here is the 'private' beach all 2 metres off to share with the rest of the world, I would have left. It is just dreadful. It does not matter if it is the Hyatt, the Intercont or any one of the other hundreds of hotels, horrid, horrid, horrid, I think you are clear about my feelings about the place now right!? We ate our picnic lunch on the beach, walked down the beech for 15 mins and got the bus back to the (in)sanity of our outside down area. The following day with nothing better to do, we risked the ferry over to Isla Mujeres (Island of Girls), which is supposed to more of the same, but not so dire. Let's just say it passed the day until our pre-departure meeting for the second half of the trip. At the meeting we met the new passengers to join us to Antigua.

The trip started with a short drive to the Maya/Toltec site of Tulum dating from the 12th century. It is one of the few Maya sights found on the coast. It sits directly on top of the cliffs overlooking the Caribbean Sea. The site is quite small, but well preserved/renovated. The setting is just beautiful, could live here. Obviously a des. rez. in the old days! Of course the enemy would have been easy to spot coming across the ocean which is always handy!

We continued south to the little village of Bacalar located on the shores of the Laguna de Siete Colores. The lake's name comes as a result of the mix of salt and fresh water which creates 7 different shades of colour when the sun sets on the horizon. I could only count four, irrespective of sunset, sunrise or anytime in between! Michi swam half way across, came back and then did the same in the other direction. We thought we had lost him there for a while. The rest of us watched on as we sipped our ice cold beers.

After just over two weeks in Mexico we left to enter Belize, formally known as British Honduras. We had two easy border crossings, out of Mexico and into Belize and drove to Belize City to catch our 40 minute ferry to cover the 32kms to Caye (pronounced key, so presumably means quay?) Caulker. This is a pretty little island, not too visited by tourists. It is only about 8 x 0.5 kms, so just a few straight streets lined with restaurants, diving shops and internet cafes of course. The price of things is very high. Twice as much as everywhere else we have been so far and just about European standard prices and sometimes even higher! No cars allowed just bikes and beach buggies. We spent one day snorkeling to three different areas and got to see sharks, two different types of rays, lots of brightly coloured fish and some corals. Bit chilly around the periphs as the sun decided to play hide and seek and the wind was blowing and of course I don't do cold! We had a total of three nights here so day after snorkeling just spent relaxing, walking around and around again the island, and taking in some rays.

Fully relaxed after Caye Caulker we took the ferry back and drove to San Ignacio, not a very pretty town, and drove a little further and stayed in a hotel which was to act as our base for the optional activities the next day. There was everything from tubing, canoeing, visiting a pine ridge valley etc. However, for Kaz, the frightened of everything person, claustrophobic who hates the dark, the wet and cold, hates climbing rocks, ladders etc., what did she choose? Well caving of course what else?! At the meeting where the activities were explained to us, I admitted all my reservations and fears to the guide about the caving, but he made it sound a breeze, don't they always! So I decided I would give it a try, how bad could it be? Well for me it was of course bad.

After a sleepless night, dreaming up what might happen we set off. We drove for about an hour and a half, walked for an hour through the jungle and crossed four rivers up to hip deep. We left our bags at the picnic area and went to the entrance of the cave. Well the other side of the entrance to the cave actually, because of course there just had to be a pool of water to cross now didn't there? We had to swim across a freezing neck deep water entrance of the canyon and then wade through freezing water anything from ankle to boob height water for an hour. Finally after passing some wonderful crystal formations, stalactites and mites in the cave we reached the dry chamber where we had to take our wet shoes off and put socks on to protect the dry chamber from human oils which damage the artifacts. This cave was used by the Mayas. When the cave was found the experts decided to leave the artifacts and human remains as the Mayans had left them before they mysteriously died out. There are three skeletons on one level affectionately known as Tom, Dick and Harry by our guide from Jordie land, England. There is a whole skeleton of a 'princess' after a terrifying climb up a 12 foot ladder. There were lots of things to negotiate before we got to the dry chamber, which, if I had known about before, I would never have gone, so not my thing. That said I am proud to say I did it with style and a lot of helping hands, so tick the box and move on. It was wonderful, but I don´t need to do it again!

Well deserved few beers in the evening to warm through(!) before leaving the next day to do the border crossings out of Belize and into what should be the highlight of the tour according to my sources, Guatemala. First stop just a couple of hours down the road at Flores, which is an island connected to the mainland of Santa Elena by a causeway. We were told it is nothing special, but I disagree, it´s very pretty.

Sensational ruins at Tikal National park which cover 222 square miles apparently. You have quite a long drive to the entrance through the park/jungle and then with another wonderfully knowledgeable guide we walked to various pyramids and buildings. There was some additional wildlife thrown in, but the jaguar was elusive, have to be grateful really!

Time for some (more!) R&R. We drove to Rio Dulce (Sweet River) where our accommodation consisted of over-water bungalows, well let's be honest, it wasn't quite Tahiti, more cabins, but all the same very nice and comfortable. However the weather wasn't! From here we were due to go on a boat trip down river to Caribbean Livingston. The weather came in from who knows where and it absolutely chucked it down with rain all night, buckets of it, and this is in the so-called dry season! We got a message from our leader that we would hold off until 11:00 to see if the weather cleared as she assured us it would be far from nice gunning it to Livingston in a storm or viewing the beautiful waterside. Suddenly we got a further message that the weather was clearing so we were leaving at 10:00. I asked her if she had checked the weather with the locals. She turned to the local boatman and asked him. He said there was absolutely no way it was going to rain anymore today. Why I didn't just turn around then I don't know. We got on our three boats and headed off. And then it started. Drip, drip. Plastic sheeting was distributed to people on the other two boats. We didn't have any. Two spare sheets were passed to our boat and Michi and I tried to protect our camera. Then it chucked it down and we got drenched in about 30 seconds. I did have the good sense to take my Gore-Tex with me, but sadly Michi hadn't packed his (we just took a small bag for the two night stop over and left our rucksacks on the bus). However, my Gore-Tex got so wet that the water had to run somewhere and it ran into my trousers, into my knickers, down my leg and into my boots. Memories of Amazon downpour came flooding back (another water reference!) Then we slowed down to view the countryside. What's the point? We couldn't see anything for the sheets of rain. But it was all paid for so we were going to see it weather okay whether we wanted to or not. Finally after our wet tour we headed into Livingstone where we were told we had just two hours. The rain stopped, the sun came out followed by the next set of rain clouds. We grabbed a quick lunch and then did the shops. Then all too soon, hum, it was time to go back. We were still wet even though we had tried to stay in the sun to dry out. Somehow the rain held off until we just put our feet back on the ground in the hotel. What a waste of time that was.

Left Rio Dulce and headed towards the border of Honduras and after formalities we needed just 15 mins to the small town of Copan. The next day we walked the 1 or 2 kms to the ruins of Copan. This, as with all the ruin sites, was different from all the others we had seen. The nice thing about these ruins is that there are many stelae with intricate carvings. Some still even have some red colour left and others have hieroglyphs.

So that was the last of the ruins on the agenda. We all but ignored Christmas and on Christmas Day drove to our final destination, the wonderful colonial city of Antigua where we spent 3 nights exploring the many buildings and churches and generally chilling out to gather the energy needed for the 31 hour journey home.

That brings me up to 84 countries seen, even more to go! Next up Antarctica, bring it on!!!!

Summary of ruins visited:

Teocali
Teotihucan
Monte Alban
Mitla
Palenque
Uxmal
Chichen Itza
Tulum
Tikal
Copan
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/indochina_07/1197699360/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/indochina_07/1197699360/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/indochina_07/1197699360/tpod.html Mon, 25 Feb 2008 02:42:27 -0500 Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia

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Luang Prabang, Lao Peoples Dem Rep

Just as you thought you had been spared the travelogue, I find an internet cafe - with XP no less. We left Vienna for London for three nights, so Michi could finally do the city break thing. It was good as it gave us a chance to wind down having worked up until the last minute; well a change is as good as a rest. During the flight I reminded the air stewardess of my veggie order and she replied that the whole flight was veggie and if someone wanted a meat meal then that had to be ordered in advance - a few unhappy campers I can tell you - revenge of the veggie! Heathrow broke all records as our luggage emerged two minutes after we did. Then it was time to see if I could remember my pin number from my cash point card, which hadn't been used for three years. Hey presto, two transactions of 20 pounds and we were the proud owners of two underground cards for the duration. However, when I went to pay 58 pounds for 2 Heathrow Express return tickets (yes you read it correctly), a 15 min train ride, it said my card had been stopped. She tried again, and I tried at the nearby cash machine, but no luck. Great I have money in the UK, but I don't, if you get my drift. I had another go when I had to settle the hotel bill in advance, but same result. We dropped the bags and headed straight into town, just to get a feeling for the place and get orientated - around Theatreland and Trafalgar Square - and grabbed some dinner.

Michi said he wanted to get a genuine feeling of London and the UK in general and the weather obliged accordingly as the next morning it absolutely chucked it down with sheets of rain! A short walk took us to Paddington underground station, but we were advised it was closed due to a bomb scare, more of a typical day in the life of a Londoner these days. No problem we were told, the red double decker bus no. 27 would take us to where we wanted to go - a ride on the red bus was on Michi's wish list of things to do anyway, so tick the box and move on. And in the true style of British public transport it took us over an hour, instead of the scheduled 15 mins to get to Westminster! Isn't Vienna transportation wonderful? We spent the whole day walking around taking in the main tourist attractions getting wetter and colder by the minute, well if you will insist on doing a city break in December in England, what do you expect? The price of stuff has gone through the ceiling and then some and I almost had to apply for a loan when we sat down for a quick coffee and croissant - 19 pounds to you madam (for those of you using Euros, multiply by 1.45, yes a lot!) In the evening we caught up with Jane, my friend from the Ethiopian Drago trip back in 98.

Kaz, organized as ever, had an itinerary with a list of 'must see'. Having ticked a lot of boxes on day one, day two continued down the list, the highlight being the Yeoman tour of the Tower of London - the guys are a scream with the way they tell their stories. The best was when he explained that in the records there is an order that there must always be 6 ravens in the grounds of the tower otherwise bad luck will occur - with all that happened in that tower I think it's too late for that, but getting back to his story. The yeomen said 'do you think we are superstitious? You better believe it that's why we have not 6, but 8 ravens in case two fall off their perch overnight!!" As always the highlight of the tour for me was the crown jewels. The previous two times I've seen them it was high season. To minimize the long queues they put you on a moving pathway which means you pass them at the speed of light. At the end of the pathway you are thrown out of the room and cannot rejoin the queue to see them again. I have never really gotten a good look at them. As it was off season there was hardly anyone there so I asked the security lady if I could see them a couple of times. So excited that I was so interested, she not only told me I could go back on the moving pathway as many times as I liked and spend as much time as I wanted, she gave me a personal explanation of the different crowns, the diamonds etc. We were there for so long I think they thought we were planning a robbery! Late afternoon, Michi feeling a bit guilty decided I might like to do the girly shop 'til you drop thing, so off we headed to Oxford Circus. It was ghastly as millions of people were panic Xmas shopping, so we left pretty pronto.

All too soon it was time to pack and leave for our 11 hour flight to Bangkok with Thai Airways. What a wonderful airline they are too, it's all true! Our hotel transfer took us to our luxury hotel in the centre of hot and stuffy Bangkok where we spent three nights. We met up with the group and our leader Sek. We were 10 PAX in total, 7 men, 3 chicks, and all but two were Brits. No really young or really old, and most seem to be 40-55 so a pretty well balanced (careful!) group. We all clicked very quickly and the size of the group made it comfortable for getting around without too many delays. We just didn't stop laughing as there were a couple of real characters on the trip. This trip wasn't with Drago and the truck, it ran with local leaders and hired (private) transport, so a bit cushy compared to the other trips, at times a little Kuoni if you ask me, too posh for the likes of us.

We drove an hour or so to the floating market where we boarded our 'klong' canal boat and drifted through the peak hour klong traffic - how anything gets from A to B is a miracle. There was anything and everything on sale from food to clothes to junk, just for us. Great experience. Of course I managed to find a new hat. Colour you ask, pink of course, with elephants printed all over it, but better still it opens out into a sort of fan for the first third (very cooling) and then into a circular hat all secured with that old faithful Velcro. Then it all folds back flat again after use for storage, so it fits nicely into a bag when not in use. So not only very pretty, but practical too and of course matches my pink day sack - important to be coordinated when accessorizing - well sometimes anyway!

We returned to Bangkok to tour this "City of Angels", as it is known and took in, along with the rest of the millions of tourists, the Grand Palace which houses Wat Phra Kaew, home to the Emerald Buddha and Wat Po, the complex of the gold-plated Reclining Buddha 45 meters long by 15 meters high, which is quite tall for someone lying down! Here we bought a gold pot containing small coins which we then placed one by one in pots attached to the wall behind the length of the reclining Buddha. This goes towards your 'savings' plan for your future life - I just hope it is more successful than my recent stock market purchases and company investment schemes! Happily it was time to leave smelly Bangkok. I didn't like it the first time I was here in 89 and it hasn't improved with age, for our flight to Chiang Rai followed by a 2 ½ hour drive to Chiang Kong where we stayed in a guest house right on the Mighty Mekong River, idyllic setting for a chilled beer. The scenery during the drive was very green and more like what we have been waiting for after Bangkok. We walked through the town and came upon a Buddhist temple, which unfortunately was closed, but was beautifully painted in bright pinks and blues.

A short drive the next morning took us to Thai immigration to stamp us out of Thailand and then a 10 minute ride on a dug out canoe took us across the Mekong to Laos authorities to do the complicated paperwork to let us in the country. Why don't they just take the money and stamp our passports? Here we met our Laos leader La. Our first activity was a two day boat trip down the Mighty Mekong River. I wasn't really looking forward to it as boat trips are usually in very basic uncomfortable boats and after a while you have had enough. However, this was a lovely wooden boat and was actually the home of the driver, wife and young daughter. They had acquired what looked like ex-airline seats and installed a sliding canopy and, most importantly, a flush toilet! Well a flush toilet in the sense of design, with a bucket of water next to it, but spotlessly clean. So we all chilled for two days as we admired the green dense scenery on either side of the river, which is quite narrow really, not what I had expected, but very pretty. After a few hours 'sailing' we stopped off to visit a local Loa family (no I didn't miss off the s, people from Laos are called Lao!). It was the usual Pied Piper of Hamelin with the children as they were so excited to see us. Laos was only opened to tourists in 1990 so it is really new in tourism terms which means they haven't yet cottoned on to the negative side of tourism, so nobody asked us for money, sweets pens etc, a refreshing change. That said, two 7 year olds have worked out how to make a fast buck and jumped onto our boat when we had to stop for a police check offering the two staple foods in the diet of all overlanders - pringles (3 flavours no less) and Oreos! We all had to buy something as we were so impressed with their enterprise initiative! Credit where credit is due.

The first night of the boat trip we stopped at our basic trader's town Pak Beng, dreading the accommodation as we had been warned it was very, very basic, which usually means you wish you were somewhere else, anywhere else! But it was a really nice house, with clean rooms, a small bathroom, no running water, but a bowl with two thermos flasks of hot water so you could have a bird bath. What more do you need? Well yes running water and bubble bath, but then you would be here would you!? After a quick splash around in the bathroom we walked the length of the town and found a restaurant with a blackboard outside with a message in French, which from my school day French translated into "come and try the excellent food cooked with fresh ingredients by my wife. The food is so good I married her". Yes we fell for it and went in and it was truly delicious, more Thai curry! The food in South East Asia just has to be some of the best in the world.

We boarded the boat again for day two. La was great and briefed us on stuff as we went along and was a really interesting guy. On this day he told us what has to be the most moving personal story I have ever heard, and almost brought us all to tears. He explained that the Indochina War was kept secret from the rest of the world and he felt he just wanted to share his personal story with us. He explained that La means last in the family to which we all went ahhh, and later wished we hadn't, but we were not to know what was to come. He said that during the war years his mother, father and all other relatives lived in 50-70 caves and had to move every second or third day just to try and avoid the daily bombings by the Americans. One day, an area of the caves where they were all staying was badly hit and all were killed except a neighbour who then went in search of survivors. The neighbour found La's mother lying there on the brink of death. She explained to him that she was 8 months pregnant, her leg and arm had been severed and she was bleeding to death. She knew she was going to die. She begged the neighbour to save her child. He asked her how and she told him to take the knife from his belt and then showed him where to cut her stomach open to take out the child. This he did and she died soon afterwards. The neighbour called him La and found nearby survivors to look after him. When he was very young he was sent away to school. He kept asking why his mother, father and other relatives didn't visit him, so the various people who looked after him pretended to be his parents and wrote to him saying he was doing well at school and he should keep on studying and they would come and visit one day. And indeed later they did visit him and once even stayed with him for 3 months. When he was a lot older they sent him to study to be a monk and when he reached the age of 25 his 'parents', feeling that Buddhism would have helped him to gain the strength to deal with the news, told him the true story about his parents. As a monk you are not allowed to show any emotion and naturally he was distraught at the news. He decided to give up studying to be a monk, became a tour leader, married two years later and has two children. So when you are having a bad day.....or are upset with your family, be grateful you have one.

We 'sailed' on down the river and stopped off at another Lao village which produces textiles and of course we just had to buy a couple of things. A later stop brought us to the Tam Ting and Pak Ou Caves cut out of the limestone banks which line the river at Pak Ou, to see the thousands of Buddhas there, but not a patch on China. Late afternoon we arrived at our destination Luang Prabang, a very pretty French colonial town nestled in a narrow valley cut by the Mekong and Khan Rivers, designated as a world heritage site in 1995 by UNESCO.

The following day we walked around the town taking in the national museum, also known as the Royal Palace, which was the home of the last King of Laos. He, together with his wife and family, were sent there for "re-education" and died in the process. Our tour also took us to many of the 30+ Buddhist temples scattered throughout this small town, including Wat Wisunalat, Wat Xieng Thong with its many separate buildings (including a couple of pink and beautifully decorated buildings), the UNESCO training centre for monks (here we bought one of their paintings), and the obligatory walk up the 370 steps up Mount Phousi to see the sunset over the Mekong. To round the day off we visited the gorgeous night market (shop 'til you drop time, again!) and stopped off for drinks and dinner in the middle of it all. The food here is SO cheap it's not true. Most main meals cost $2 - makes up for London! In the afternoon we indulged in a 60 minute foot massage for, wait for it, 3 Euros! Bliss. Then more night market shopping, it was just so big that one visit isn't enough.

Before leaving Luang Prabang, we got up with the lark to watch and participate in the morning Alms. Basically hundreds and hundreds of monks walk down the main streets of the town carrying their brass pots with lids, attached to some strap which they carry over their shoulder. The locals kneel down on straw mats, hold up a bowl with various food offerings (mainly rice, bananas and sweets), and as the monks pass by the offering is placed into the monk's bowl and the lid is replaced. La had prepared some food and places for us in the street, so those who wanted to, participated. Well when in Rome. It did feel rather odd and touristy and I am not sure the monks really agreed with us doing it and neither did most of the group. I think they should just allow us to watch and leave it at that. That said it was a great experience.

Our private air conditioned van negotiated what has to be one of the windiest roads I've travelled on in years, to Vang Vieng located on the banks of Nam Song = Song River. The road signs showing a bend were more like a crinkle cut chip than a sharp bend sign because they are such sharp bends. They go up, down and around, and then back on themselves cutting up the glorious scenery of endless trees and tribal villages. On arrival we visited the Jang Caves, which were used as a hideout a couple of centuries ago, but the Chinese have sadly covered the inside with concrete so it has lost most of its beauty. We inspected the town at night, but it is about one up from Costa del Sol, so after dinner we retreated to the comfort of our hotel run by an Aussie lady and her Lao hubby. The hotel is in a nice setting over the river with stunning views of the mountains, but apart from that none of us understood why we needed a two night stopover. On the second day, exhausted from a failed attempt to find the secret limestone cave amongst the karst cliffs that surround the town, and, having completed a whole week on the road, we booked ourselves a relaxing Lao massage for an hour for $4 before watching the sunset with a chilled Lao beer followed by dinner. Tough at the bottom isn't it?

I finally managed to get my cashpoint card to work after I was able to amazingly answer the questions from the fraud squad. They had stopped my card as they were worried it had been stolen, to which I replied what after 40 pounds and having told you I was going travelling? They did this to me in China back in 2004. They never seem to stop it when it really has been stolen though do they?

We experienced the worst type of American tourist the other day (sorry Teri, Jim and Bill!). We were going around the main Buddhist temple in a town and, as is customary, we took off our shoes. An American female tourist in another group, obviously very well to do by the way she was dressed, moved and spoke, late 50s I guess, started to enter the temple with her shoes on. Her guide politely pointed out that this was not allowed. She said she would only go in with her shoes on and he told her that she would have to stay outside. She threw her toys out of the cot and huffed and asked "well is it really worth seeing?" I just looked at Claire to double check my hearing hadn't gone. The guide said "yes it's beautiful". Not content with that answer she asked again "but I mean is it R E AAA LLLL Y worth seeing?" by which time I would have hit her or just said "well actually, do you know what? I don't think it is, why don't you just take a rest outside?" He reconfirmed that it was. I just looked her and said "I think you are on the wrong tour honey" put my shoes in the rack and entered the temple. However, she chose to stay outside. Then, just like a spoiled brat of a child she put her head around the corner of the temple where she could see and hear how everyone was having such a good time. She quietly took off her shoes, put them as close to the entrance as possible and crept in 'unnoticed'. I bet she is the type to go home and make up all these wonderful stories and totally kill the magic of the country she has seen. Lady, please stay at home.

We left Vang Vieng for Vientiane which translates into Sandalwood city and is described as the most laid-back capital city in Asia. I describe it as the least impressive capital city in the world and vote that Luang Prabang be named as the capital. We did the compulsory city tour taking in Wat Sisaket an Haw PhraKaew with a wonderful golden stupa. During our free day we visited the morning market, which is open from 8-5 (don't ask!). It was like row upon row of the Pound/Euro shop selling the most amazing amount of rubbish. There is so much of it you just can't imagine how anyone makes any money. Late afternoon we set off to the airport for the one hour flight to Hanoi.

We ignored the advice of our new leader Hai not to venture out and just to eat at the hotel as he felt we needed a rest, it was 8 pm! We hunted out a restaurant in the old quarter. The quietness of Laos was replaced by chaotic traffic, mainly consisting of mopeds. The best and only way to survive crossing the road is to put one foot in front of the other and slowly but with purpose, make your way across. This then gives them enough indication and room to swerve in front or behind you and avoid running you over. No sudden erratic running or staying put allowed as it confuses them! Apparently there are 6 million people living in Hanoi and about 4 million of them have these moped things. Those that don't own their own moped just share! They patiently line up at red traffic lights - it looks like the start of a marathon race there are so many of them, and then on green they all set off at a sensible slow speed. Somehow it all works, but I can't see it taking off in Austria, the UK or anywhere else for that matter.

Before we had time to digest our dinner, we had to prepare an overnight bag for the trip to what I was hoping would be the highlight of the trip for me, Halong Bay at the bay-side resort town of Bai Chay. Unfortunately, the weather decided to go against us and it was cloudy as we left Hanoi. The four hour drive took us to our boat, which had cabins for two peeps and was en suite. Not quite the communal sleeping area on deck that I had imagined, so how happy were we? The area itself is a UNESCO site, with some 3,000 limestone peaks rising vertically from the Halong Bay. They were dramatic even though the weather was appalling, but due to the high volume of 'shipping' it kind of ruined the whole experience. After 3 hours 'sailing' we moored up in the middle of the bay with the rest of he world and his mother and inhaled diesel fumes for the duration. Apparently, 'they' restrict the area that can be visited by the boats. We did get an excellent seafood lunch, but the dinner and breakfast left a lot to be desired as did the constant pressure selling from one of the crew who was trying to sell pearls and art work. Apart from the obvious fact that we would have got back to Hanoi a little late due to the 4 hour drive, we felt a day trip would have been equally good, especially as we woke up to even more fog, mist and rain than the previous day. Wasn't quite the ad on CNN.

We returned to Hanoi late morning, ran and obtained tickets to the water puppet show. It was just hilarious. Puppets appear on water and are worked by people behind a curtain. The best scene was where two birds of some sort are seen courting on the lake. After a short dance they disappeared under the water for a couple of seconds and then reappeared with an egg! Then the couple, together with their egg, disappeared under the water again and, yes you've guessed it, up they pop with the new born duckling! Great sex education isn't it?

The rest of the afternoon was spent drinking wonderful coffee and eating cake on the lakeside followed by a walk around the old city, French Quarter, the lake itself and just generally absorbing the crazy atmosphere and chaos that is Hanoi. The day was rounded off with a sea bass dinner all washed down with a few glasses of Bordeaux, all very civilized. Another late start the next day, not like the Drago 5 a.m. starts, gave us a taste of communist Vietnam. We were shuttled through Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum where we were 'lucky' enough to see Ho Chi Minh himself. They reveal his face every so often, and although it wasn't due to be shown again until the end of December, when we were there it was actually revealed. This was followed by a visit to the House on Stilts and One Pillar Pagoda. After a free afternoon we boarded the Reunification Express for the overnight journey 500kms to Hue. We shared 4 berth cabins, drank a couple of beers and slept.

We were met at Hue train station at 08:00 and taken to our hotel before setting off on a boat ride down the Perfume River to visit the mausoleum of Tu Duc, one of the great Nguyen emperors who ruled Vietnam from Hue. It was quite vast, but not terribly attractive as it was built out of a lot of grey concrete! On the return boat journey we skipped the Khai Dinh mausoleum as time was running out and apparently was same same but different, a familiar phrase of the trip, but mainly the name of a bar chain. However, we did stop off at the Thien Mu pagoda, which was a centre for anti-government protests in the early 1960s. It houses the Austin car that transported a monk, Thich Quang Duc, to Saigon in 1963 where he burned himself as a protest against the president. The photograph of his self-immolation was printed in newspapers throughout the world and we also got to see that, how cheerful.

The following day Hai (our not so intrepid leader), took us around the Citadel with walls six miles in length. Inside are the palaces and halls of the Mandarins and the remains of the Forbidden Purple City, where only the Emperor and his eunuchs and concubines were allowed. It wasn't in very good condition and there is an obvious lack of funds for restoration. It was difficult to appreciate the size of the complex because you just can't see it as a single entity from any position.

After lunch we drove the three hours to Hoi An, driving through the peninsula of Lang Co which lies between the crystal waters of a lagoon and the south China Sea. Unfortunately, they have built a tunnel, so instead of driving over the Hai Van pass (Pass of the Ocean Clouds) taking in promised spectacular views, we gunned the 6kms through the tunnel. Still the scenery before and after the tunnel was very pretty with lots of paddy fields and the view of the ocean very inviting. This day was Christmas Eve, so whilst everyone was busy avoiding the subject (thank you!), we did do a group meal to celebrate being away from it all. Half of us treated ourselves to a bottle of Moet & Chandon and chilled it in the mini bar and got permission to take it to the restaurant for a small corkage charge which included a bucket of ice. The food was just superb, prawns and fish on a banana leaf and a French cheese board, yum. Piling on the kilos sadly. In the room next door music was playing, so we danced the night away and walked home in the pouring rain at 2 a.m. The locals looked on at us old folks thinking we were totally mad, but we soon had all of them up dancing too, it was a blast. Hoi An is described as a busy little town and it sure was. Everyone seems to own a moped and they just pack as many of the little darlings as possible onto the street, but if flows. The place was also packed with people trying to get to the markets and the church which was blasting out a very bad version of jingle bells (why?), but when we came out of the bar at 2 a.m. there wasn't a person to be seen, it was like a ghost town.

Hoi An dates back to the mid-sixteenth century and has wonderful wooden merchant's houses and pagoda-style temples with Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese and European architectural influences. More importantly, it is famous for its fabulous silk. It is just so relaxing to walk around, but of course Claire and I spent many hours choosing fabrics and designing clothes all made to measure. I spent three hours on the first day ordering 8 skirts in very Kaz material - Claire described one of the colours as "pink on speed" so I think you get the picture as to how that one looks.

Our morning city tour, with a few hangovers, took in the Chinese Assembly Hall, the museum and the Japanese Bridge. Lastly we visited a posh Chinese merchant's house which has been in the same family for 7 generations and recently beaten all flood level records which happened a couple of months ago. Later it was time for our first fitting of our clothes and later still we picked up the final items. How happy were we, especially as they charge in dollars and what with the dollar being so weak at the moment. What better way to round off the day than yet another seafood dinner in a seafood river front restaurant run by a Swedish guy who married a Vietnamese lady and stayed?

We had to leave the hotel at 06:00 (so wake up call at 04:30 so not all fun as you see) to catch the first flight out to Saigon, or rather Ho Chi Minh City as it is now officially called, but we prefer Saigon. More valium for me, just hope I have enough! After settling into the hotel and a bit of lunch we had a city tour visiting the Notre Dame Cathedral (no it doesn't look like the one in France, but attractive all the same), the Re-unification Palace which is historically very important, but was pretty uninteresting to visit, the post office which reminded us all of a UK train station with style and finally the War Remnants Museum, which had graphic black and white photographs which recorded the atrocities that took place during the Vietnam War or more correctly according to the Vietnamese, the American War which took place in Vietnam. It is really interesting being in Vietnam and hearing the stories from the other side. All the famous movies and TV programmes I've seen on Vietnam are always from the US side. It was also interesting to do people watching as you could see that, without exception, all visitors were moved and horrified at what they saw, and rightly so. It's a strange thing to say, but I fear that this was just a warm up for what we will see at the Killing Fields. What awful things one human being can do to others remains a mystery to me. We do not seem to learn from history, similar and worse things have happened since and still happening as we speak.

Most of the group decided to take a cab to a posh restaurant for dinner, but we prefer to experience life with the locals so we walked to the Ben Thanh night market with row upon row of temporary 'restaurants' with open air kitchens with woks and BBQs, plastic tables and chairs and best of all, seafood swimming around in bowls and fish tanks. We treated ourselves to a slap up meal of barbequed crayfish and a plate of noodles with, guess what? Correct, seafood. Delicious and cheap. On the way back we spotted a 4 star hotel selling proper coffee, something which has been lacking on this trip, so we popped in to top up our caffeine levels - it cost more than dinner! On the way to dinner we noticed that the streets seemed busier than ever (if that was at all possible) as the whole world and his mother had either made it into the brightly lit city or were on their mopeds (up to 4 to a moped!) trying to get somewhere. We were told they were celebrating New Year, but it was a few days early, so we are not sure if it was true or not. Balloon sellers were out in force and we managed to find the only penguin balloon in Vietnam and, just like the locals, we paraded through town with the new member of our penguin family. Traffic chaos here is worse than that in Hanoi. In Hanoi you felt like you would eventually get a chance to cross the road alive, but here you just have to put one foot in front of the other, move VERY slowly across the road and let the traffic negotiate around you. After a while it really isn't a problem. There is no such thing as road rage here, or traffic jams for that matter. There is simply a lot of traffic which moves in every direction, even in the wrong direction at times which confuses the heck out of you, but it does move and there are no traffic jams, somehow!

A trip to Cu Chi tunnels used by Viet Cong in the Vietnam War was up next, but due to my fear of enclosed spaces I gave it a miss. The network of tunnels covers 3 levels and runs for approx 240kms. They used very clever tricks to prevent smoke from fires going out of the tunnels and into the sky, which would have meant they would have been spotted by the Americans and also they had some not so attractive so-called 'man traps' should any unwelcome visitors try and access the caves. Claire and I decided to have a girly day drinking fresh juice, coffee, shopping and chatting. I bought 7 pairs of shoes (well I just don't have a thing to wear with my 8 new skirts!)

Sadly we left Saigon and took a very basic boat ride on a sampan from Cai Be to see the agriculturally rich Mekong Delta. The Mekong is locally known as the rice bowl of Vietnam and produces much of Vietnam's fruit, sugar cane and coconuts (and presumably rice, but nobody mentioned that!). En route we stopped off at Cao Dai temple which is used by devotees of this strange indigenous religion that fuses all the great religions of the east and west. We visited a riverside village which from the river looked like row upon row of poorly built wooden and straw structures on stilts, but when you went in there were little businesses and cottage industries going on. The first industry was rice paper making by hand. The lady must have been 80 and had been making 800 rice papers a day for over 40 years. She sat with her right leg in a half lotus position on a chair, poured the smallest amount of a sort of rice juice onto a muslin bag which had been stretched out into a circular shape over a clay oven which was fuelled by rice husks. An industry that uses the whole product! She moved the liquid out to make what looked like a very thin crepe, yes there is something thinner than a crepe! We couldn't quite work out if the heat was steam or fire, but probably steam. Once cooked for literally 10 seconds, she removed the rice paper and placed it over an inverted washing up bowl to cool off before placing 8 of them onto a straw thing to dry out before packing and selling.

The second business made coconut toffee. First they press the whole coconut which has been cut into pieces through a mashing machine which shreds it. This is collected into a washing up bowl lined with muslin. When the bowl is full it is made into a round block and placed with three further blocks under a metal press to extract the coconut milk. This juice is then mixed with sugar and boiled to make the toffee. Once cooled it is packed by hand in rice paper and then wrapping paper, collected onto a square sided silver tray with a handle so that exactly the correct quantity of toffees can fit in one go into the packaging. Another lady put a label and a stamp on the packaging and hey presto off to market.

The final place we visited made rice popcorn by heating up some black sand in a wok until it was piping hot. Rice was added and mixed around until it swelled up and popped. The mixture was then sieved allowing the sand to fall through, leaving the rice popcorn. This is then used to make rice cakes. It was just so fascinating to see so many products being made from scratch.

Our boat took us further down the delta and we passed the floating market which is where all the boats meet to sell their produce. So you can tell who is selling what, they have a bamboo pole with a sample of the product attached to it at the top. The boat took us to our accommodation for the night which was a homestay on Binh Hoa Island, quite posh really. We all slept in army camp beds in a communal room upstairs, but there were flush toilets and lots of showers so not really a hardship. I'm not a fan of these homestays, I've done too many of them and generally it's just a house or a tent in the middle of an area set up for tourists, so hardly the real experience.

Up early the next morning to walk around the market to see the locals doing their daily shopping before returning for breakfast. We left for the short drive to take the ferry across to Vinh Long and drove to our night stop at the border town of Chou Doc. This turned out to be a more fun place than we thought. We found a Chinese Temple with some young school children playing outside. They were so happy to see us so we sat on the steps and tried to speak to them. One could count to five, but by the time we left she made it to ten. A walk around the fruit and veg market took us to a noodle soup stand where they were so friendly we decided to take a seat and eat one. Evening meal was once again 1kg of black tiger prawns individually grilled on the smallest BBQ equipment "'I ever did see"', absolutely delicious.

Up for a relatively early start for the one hour drive to the Vietnam border to check out and make our way through the endless form filling, naturally in separate green booths (nothing like job creation), to gain entry into Cambodia. Our new leader has the widest smile I've ever seen and chuckles a lot. It took us 2.5 hours to reach the capital Phnom Penh - my 80th country!

That afternoon was free for us to recover (from what I have no idea) so we fitted in as much as we could that wasn't going to be covered in the full day tour the following day. We toured around the national museum for a couple of hours which seemed to contain most of the remains of the temples we were due to see in Siem Reap. To make sure we didn't miss out on yet another temple we walked to Wat Phnom, a working Wat, which had a garden display containing a clock which actually works, including the second hand. I think it's just there for New Year.

Our leader told us about a restaurant called Friends which was started to help orphaned and street children. Basically these children are taken in and taught the basics of table service, kitchen work, cooking, service, hygiene etc. That way they are off the streets, are given an opportunity they would otherwise not get, have work and therefore money and regain/retain their pride. It was amazing. They are well trained and supervised. There is a blackboard showing who is doing what and they rotate to learn new skills. Those who complete the three levels go on to be teachers. The service was better and more correct than I have had in some 5 star hotels, and all with a smile.

Our full day city tour was reversed as it was New Year's Eve and we felt it would be just too emotional to do the "'Killing Fields" in the afternoon. So we started out at the sobering sites of Tuol Sleng Prison Museum, also known as S21 (Museum of Genocide), which graphically displays the horrors of the 4 years when Pol Pot systematically ordered the murder of 2 to 3 million Cambodians between 1975-1979. The museum had row upon row of black and white photographs of the prisoners who were tortured until they admitted they were spies and against the Khmer Rouge. I guess they thought if they admitted they were spies they would be freed or at least killed quickly to end their misery. When we asked the leader how the prisoners were executed he answered that they were taken away and bludgeoned to death rather than shot as they didn't want to ''waste'' the bullets, and buried them in mass graves. Our leader says that every family in Cambodia lost at least one member of their family. He told us his story - he was only 7 at the time. He was 1 of 4 children and lived with his mum and dad. He saw his father and 2 sisters taken away and they never came back. He and his mother were sent to the fields for a ''better life'', which it was in so far as they stayed alive, but they nearly all starved to death as they were not allowed to eat anything, it was all sold to finance the KR.

The torture methods described in the museum were appalling (if there can be any measurement of torture?). As with the War Remnant's Museum people were silent, people generally walked around on their own just taking time to reflect, it was all very moving and depressing. It is so difficult to take it all in and believe this was all happening as we were watching the release of Jaws, ignorant as to what was happening on the other side of the world. We were then taken out to one of the over 300 killing fields - Choeung Ek. Here a building houses the skulls and clothing of the victims found to date, row upon row all to be seen through the windows. Then we walked around the grounds to visit the now empty graves. Silence.

After lunch we visited the impressive Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda, so named because the solid silver tiles make up the floor. The whole complex is very beautiful and majestic. New Year was celebrated in Phnom Penhin style.

A scenic 6 hour drive the next day took us to Siem Reap with a short stop at Skuon to try deep fried spider, no I didn't, but a couple of brave ones did. Yuk. It's all in the mind apparently, and tasted like a crisp, mmmmm. After checking in to yet another posh hotel we walked up to the top of the view point at Phnom Bakheng temple to watch a sunset over our first sighting of Angkor Wat.

The next two days were spent exploring the temple complex at Angkor. We visited the incredible Angkor Wat, the many temples inside the Royal City of Angkor Thom, including Baphuon, the Terrace of Elephants, Leper King, Royal Palace, the South Gate of Angkor Thorn, the magnificent Bayon (with many carved faces) comprising 54 intricately carved towers in one single temple. Most people liked the Banteay Kdei and Ta Prohm (jungle temple) the best as they are still covered in jungle, just as it was when it was first discovered along with the other temples around 1870. On our last day in Siem Reap we took in a pink sandstone temple of Banteay Srei, stretches the imagination on the colour! Then to end in style half the group including Michi and I paid a fortune for the 12 minute helicopter flight over the whole Angkor complex to get a totally different perspective of the site. Wow doesn't describe it.

]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/map_pins_only/1199970000/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/map_pins_only/1199970000/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/map_pins_only/1199970000/tpod.html Thu, 10 Jan 2008 08:01:06 -0500 Countries visited no diary, just map pin

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Phnom Penh, Cambodia

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Hanoi, Vietnam

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]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/accra-nairobi/848223900/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/accra-nairobi/848223900/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/accra-nairobi/848223900/tpod.html Thu, 20 Sep 2007 10:36:05 -0400 13,578 kms Accra - Nairobi. Fasten your seatbelts for the adventures of Dragoman through Equitorial Africa with a huge unplanned 5,000 kms diversion through Gabon, P.R. Congo and former Zaire.

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Accra, Ghana

Welcome to the adventures of Dragoman. Accra - Nairobi. This is a different type of travelling. Not the comfortable camping Contiki style travel with a cook and all mod cons, nor the safe and warm tucked up in bunk beds in a Top Deck double decker bus with running water style either. No THIS is overlanding - 'does exactly what is says on the tin' gets you from A to B overland by means of a 16 tonne Mercedes Benz truck. Are we ready for this?

I was met at Accra airport at midnight by Felicia, the cousin of a work colleague. I was so relieved she was there as I was very tired, there were literally thousands of people milling around and I didn't feel safe at all. She drove me to the meeting hotel, where I had booked a room weeks and weeks ago, but of course when I checked in they said they were fully booked and I was not on their list. Well you can imagine my reaction. I'm exhausted after a 20 hour journey, it is midnight and I'm in a dodgy back street in Accra. I do, do you? After some debate it was agreed that I crash on the floor (well why else did I buy a new sleeping bag and mat and what's one more night on the floor anyway?) with two other Drago passengers (PAX) Lindsay (not to be confused with the leader Lindsey, note different spelling) and Natalie.

Cock-a-doodle-doo to you to! Has anyone got a gun to shoot that bloody chicken outside? It's 3 a.m. and it's dark. Has its internal alarm clock gone wrong? Between that and the loud aircon pumping out hot air I could scream. Then at 06:30 there's a loud almost angry knock on the door which woke the three of us up with a start. The receptionist, obviously annoyed that he had been woken up, advised me that Felicia was on the phone. She asked if I'd slept well - well I would if chickens, non functioning aircons and helpful friends would stop waking me up! Anyway, she had remembered that during our drive from the airport to the hotel I had mentioned I was hoping to get my hair braided. Well she had a friend who could come over at 08:45 to do it - she was calling now just to get my okay as the poor lady would have to come by foot and was leaving now!! I felt so bad. The lady turned up sweating but composed, but without any hairdressing equipment. So there I sat on the floor (no chairs in the hotel), with just my wide toothed comb to help her and she 'braided' my hair. My 'mirror' (none in the hotel) turned out to be my travel companions who said she had put what looked like rat's tales in my hair. Not exactly the look I had in mind. I was after easy care hair for 11 weeks as I knew the conditions were going to be a little dire to say the least, and washing facilities a novelty.

So off to the pre-departure meeting to meet leader, Lyndsay, yes never met a person called Lyndsay in my life and suddenly there are two of them. She was 'running a little behind schedule' as the last trip was delayed by a couple of days due to getting bogged in the desert and to top it all she is recovering from her third bout of malaria. That was the good news! The bad news was that the driver Geoff was on his 'n'th bout of malaria and was in such a bad way that he was lying almost unconscious in the cab of the truck as he didn't have the energy to make it to the hotel room. She would get to him after the meeting. They were both taking some 'not yet officially available' Chinese medication, but they had a supplier and this was supposed to be some wonder drug and they should both be back on their feet in no time. Oh .... and just one more thing. There had been a military coup in Central African Republic (CAR) so we wouldn't be going there. That meant we would now take a detour through two countries not yet conquered by Drago - Gabon and the People's Republic of Congo and then up through much more of Zaire (now Democratic Republic of Congo) rather than the planned northern part. The extra cost of this detour? Well zero pounds, but an additional 5,000 km with no extra time allocated to do it in! Nobody could tell us about the road conditions we could expect other than there weren't that many roads and the only way to get to Lumambashi was by freight train from Elebo, which we should be able to reach by road. The train journey takes one to two weeks! So with such a precise plan in mind, subject to further changes, welcome to my vacation of a lifetime!! The rest of the day was spent absorbing this information, applying for visas and driving to our first 'campsite' on Coco Beach and learning how to pitch a tent in the dark with varying degrees of success.

It was interesting to watch the group dynamics of the 21 passengers. It became apparent that there were some personality issues which has started on the first section UK-Accra. This trip is going to test everyone to the limit and there will be little room for fisty cuffs! First day was a long drive to Lome in Togo and as luck would have it I was on cook duty, but the market had sold out of food so we ate out!

Our first taste of African culture came in the form of a visit to a voodoo and fetish market in Akodesswa which sells animal skeletons, animal foetuses and other magical medicines, nice. We had a little 'voodoo ceremony' by some scary looking voodoo man and, too scared about the spells he might cast on us, we bought him out of all the good luck charms he bestowed upon us, at whatever price he asked. You don't bargain with the voodoo man, you never know where he might stick that next pin! It was all too spooky. I bought a couple of small pieces of wood about an inch long and half an inch wide. One represents love and the other protects you when travelling - yep fall for it every time! After lunch we crossed the border into Benin and stayed at Grand Popo beach - WONDERFUL with showers that actually worked, clean WC and most importantly cold beers. Beach!

I spent the next two days not hiding the fact that I'm a true Brit and sat under a tree covered from head to toe in factor 60 in order to avoid being burnt to a crisp, and failed. Beach, bar? Bar beach? Get the picture?

Nicely toasted, some dark brown, some representing Pink Panther with panda eyes, we left for Cotonou, a very busy town full of good markets and air-conditioned supermarkets - two terms you don't get very often on overland trips. After we had stocked up on the essentials in life - who knows when we will next get to see cheese, we indulged in an afternoon pirogue ride (dug out wooden canoe) to Ganvie. Ganvie is a village where over 10,000 Toffinu people live in houses which are built on stilts in the middle of a lagoon and can only be reached by pirogue.

Then a day trip to the most non-impressive "palace" I have ever seen - Royal Palace in Abomey, which was the capital of the Dahomey.

Get used to this - up so early it is still pitch black for an early start to get to the Nigerian border which takes an eternity to cross apparently. Corruption is rife in Nigeria and the customs guys did everything to prevent our entry into their country demanding all sorts of bribes, but we were not giving in. Lunchtime came so we decided to be politically incorrect and set up lunch as if we didn't care we were being held up. Once they realized we weren't falling for their tricks they stamped our passports and waived us through, but insisted we were escorted by two armed guards. Grinning from ear to ear the two guards leapt on the truck and casually said "hi, don't be afraid of our guns". We just smiled back and made room for them to sit down. Wherever we went in Nigeria, we were greeted by smiling waving people. The children were so entertaining. They would run from the side streets to the main road, come to a sudden stop in a cloud of dust from the mud or gravel roads, raise both arms in the air and wave at us as quickly as their little hands could manage and then threw in a strange un-coordinated bouncing up and down from the knees! During the 80 kms from the border crossing to our campsite we were stopped by no less than 18 further police checks. Some check points were only 200 metres apart and they could see the checks that the previous checkpoint had carried out. Basically they were after a bribe, but we weren't giving in. We just got off the truck, unloaded the back locker, showed them whatever it was they wanted to see and then packed it all away again, and again and again. At our campsite there was a party going on and there were ways too many people hanging around so we decided to take hourly shifts and guard the truck to be sure. As Graham and I were on breakfast preparation from 05:30 we did the did the 04:30 - 05:30 shift.

So after some basic campsites time for our first bush camp experience en route to Kano. At least the toilets are clean and airy!

Stopped off at a bustling market in Birnia Gwarl, and arrived in Kano just in time to do the city tour, taking in the indigo dye pits, for which Kano is famous.

On to Yankari Game Reserve for a bit of animal watching, well more animal searching really as we could find anything. We had been warned that wildlife wasn't prolific, but there was a chance to catch some elephants. Fortunately, there were also some hot springs to relax in. Prolific visitors to our truck were baboons. They were ready to take just about anything so we were advised not to put our sleeping stuff in the tents until we were physically attached to it and ready to lie in it as baboons had been know to run off with such items from previous visitors. Some of us went for another soak in the hot springs under the star studded sky - magical. The two safaris were unsuccessful, but there is always tomorrow.

Breakfast was more a question of chasing the baboons away. They snuck up behind us and pinched the bananas from the breakfast table, tried to steal stuff from the food boxes and so on. So we quickly packed the stuff away and set off for our first safari of the day, but we drew another blank. When we got back to the truck we were told that whilst Geoff and Lyndsay had been servicing the truck, a baboon had slipped on to the truck and grabbed some nuts out of one of the over head nets - the nuts were in a gin bottle! Maybe there were seeking out gin not nuts! We thought it was a wind up until we saw the guilty baboon smuggly sitting under a nearby tree holding a gin bottle in one hand emptying the nuts into his other cupped hand. Some human like it was uncanny. Some of us decided to pass on a potentially waste of time afternoon safari, whilst the more persistent overlanders decided to give it one last go and returned claiming to have seen a herd of some 200 elephants. Further claims of wind up merchants were thrown back in our face with the video evidence.

A long drive from Yankari to Maiduguri to camp before crossing into Cameroon and camping at Roumsiki with its idyllic mud and straw huts.
We prepared a packed lunch at breakfast and set off on our 9 hour hike. It was great to be out in the fresh air away from all the pollution of the cities. With a backdrop of craters of extinct volcanoes, villages of stone and thatch huts just seemed to hang off the cliffs.

Why are the stars still out at breakfast time? Because it's 04:15 for a 06:00 start! VERY long day. We stopped off for an hour at N'Gauondere to shop. The scenery slowly changed to tropical rainforests, the tarmac road ran out and we got to see our first major pot holes. We bush camped and crashed fairly early to prepare for another 04:14 rise! Vacation? It's worse than the Army!

Definitely gone tropical, everything on the tent we had left out to dry was sopping wet, but at least inside remained dry. Driving, driving and more driving. Due to the density of the forest, we couldn't find a clearing to make camp, but we did find a football pitch in a village - well a dust covered rectangle with some sticks marking the goal posts. We asked a guy claiming to be the village chief if we could camp there and he said yes. Within seconds the jungle drums reached the nearby population who then descended upon our home for the night and watched us go about our daily routine of pitching tents and cooking dinner. Afterwards they found it very amusing watching us wash up in three bowls precariously balanced on stools all containing 3 inches of water. The first bowl contained fairy liquid and was to rinse the worst off, the second was a mix of fairy and dettol to wash and disinfect thoroughly and the third was to rinse off the suds and contained dettol to kill off any lingering bacteria. As tea towels are unhygienic on these trips, a row of volunteers flap the dishes dry which later on the trip turned into a affectionately called flapaerobics session - good exercise. Although they had little or nothing they made no move to steal or beg. After we had cleared up one of the older ladies came up to us and asked if she could have the empty tomato tins and empty mayo jar. They use these items for anything from collecting water to storing items. One lady we saw earlier had a rusty tin can which had holes pierced into the bottom. She put water in the tin and then watered her garden - it was her very own watering can - ingenious.

We reached our hotel in Yaounde in time for lunch and had a well overdue shower. The dirt that came off my legs when I shaved was indescribable. I still had hair left after two shaving sessions.

The road to Gabon took us deeper into the dense tropical forest and over some make shift bridges made out of thick wooden planks. Safety being a high priority for Dragoman, we stopped before each bridge crossing to investigate our chances of crossing in one piece rather than plunging into the cavern or water below. The test of the strength of the bridge was determined quite scientifically by Lyndsay, weighing in at a whole 50 kgs, walking to the middle of the bridge and jumping up and down as hard as she could. The theory went that if she didn't go through the bridge, then neither would we .....mmm. Crossing into Gabon it was quickly noticed that the people were not as fanatically friendly as our previous experiences, we even got one or two rude signs. But then we have to remember that not too many tourists pass through this way.

Using the truck compass we desperately searched for the spot that marked the equator. We even resorted to stopping and asking locals in our best school French 'do you know the way to the Equator please?' Needless to say all we got were blank looks as nobody knew what on earth we were taking about. Suddenly out of nowhere, hidden by overhanging trees was a rusty sign saying you have reached the Equator, in two languages, English and French. Shortly after that we visited the Schweitzer Hospital founded by an Austrian.

1 ½ hours on a pirogue down the Ogooue River, with the inevitable motor problems took us to the Hotel Touristique and it was just that - a sort of man made built island with a few basic rooms, a pool and a bar. No idea why it is there, it was empty.

Food shopping in Gabon is a nightmare because the villagers exist by subsistence farming and therefore there is very little excess. This meant that we had to stop at every village we drove through, buy up the entire contents of the village - four tomatoes here, three onions there, the odd pineapple and bread - and move on to the next village to repeat the process until we had enough food for 23 people. I felt slightly guilty because if we were buying up all their excess, what did the locals do for food? It seemed rather inconsiderate.

En-route we bumped into the local tree cutters who insisted on cutting down trees even though we needed to pass by. So we just had to get out and move them ourselves to allow Morag to get by. That evening we played "fuzzy duck, ducky fuzz, does he?" which involves everyone sitting in a circle, and very quickly one after the other saying fuzzy duck, until somebody says ducky fuzz which changes the direction of the game. If you don't keep up, say the wrong words or say the words in the wrong order you have to scull a shot of vodka, like that will help get your tongue around the words! You can just image the language that came out, the amount of drinking and how the evening deteriorated.

We crossed into the People's Republic of Congo in order to then try and find a route into Zaire (now Democratic Republic of Congo), as Drago normally go across the northern part of Zaire, so this was unknown territory, how exciting. On the BBC World news we heard reports about refugees reaching Kinshasa and were worried that trouble was brewing in Zaire and we were not sure we would be let in at all. We also heard that the Tanzania-Rawanda border had been closed. The entry into P.R. Congo was relatively easily. The roads were nothing more than dirt tracks which became increasingly wet and slippery - well it was the rainy season - and pot holes started to appear. The biggest change for me was the welcome return of frantic friendly waving and smiles from the villagers. The group started to get into Christmas mode by rewriting the words to 12 Days of Christmas and inflating the blow up Santa brought all the way from the UK and putting him in the driver's seat - resembled the Michelin man quite well, just in red!

We drove to Brazaville and got there in time to see the Congo rapids. Then we made camp in the grounds of a Mission before a bunch of us crammed ourselves into the back of an open ford van and held on for grim life as we took the drive of death into the city centre. None of us felt very safe. Saturday night in Brazaville couldn't think of other cities I'd rather be in. Let's just say we stayed in big groups.

Lyndsay had another malaria attack just as we approached the Zaire border. To leave P.R. Congo and cross into Zaire we had to take the truck on a ferry (a rusty floating vessel to be more accurate) across the river. As soon as we drove off the ferry we were surrounded by men claiming to be from immigration demanding our passports. Some naïve members gladly handed over their passports, whilst the more worldly wise amongst us refused, waiting for Lyndsay and Geoff to ascertain the legitimacy of their claims. As we suspected these men were passport thieves! The torn jeans and no official ID kind of gave the game away a little. So we then chased the men to snatch the passports back for our still dumfounded passengers. Welcome to Zaire! After some hunting around we finally found the real immigration gentleman and started the customs routine and waited. Fortunately, Lyndsay was deteriorating rapidly and started vomiting all over the customs area which helped speed up the clearance process somewhat, as they just wanted her out of there.

We drove into the grounds of the Mission where we had planned to spend Christmas, but they were none too pleased to see us smelly, alcohol drinking overlanders. After much discussion however, they did agree that we could set up camp. Then Geoff gave us the bad news that we were actually in a Baptist mission and no alcohol was allowed so we were going to move elsewhere the next day.

The group decision was made to eat out locally on Christmas Eve and everyone would pitch in with Christmas dinner the next day. We got back from shopping to be told we were upping sticks and moving to the American school across the way where all the kids had gone home on vacation. There was a huge plush grass area for our tents, a BBQ area and a pool!! Only 300 feet away from Mobutu's pad!

On Christmas morning we took a dip in the pool before setting out on a baking mission of mince pies, jam tarts and shortbread interspersed with the obligatory flour fight of course! Snacks were served throughout the day broken up by some swimming, diving and generally messing around in the warm pool before the main evening dinner. The blow-up Santa also made several appearances in the pool for photo opportunities. The real Santa, did the ho, ho, ho bit and distributed the pressies!

Boxing Day everyone got up early to clear away the debris and we set off back to reality. It was at this point we were reminded about the 5 star adventure/very challenging rating in the brochure we had all signed up for. It was gong to tough from here on in. We needed to be careful about water consumption strictly for drinking only, cook on open fires where possible to conserve the propane gas for the cookers, hygiene especially washing hands to avoid spreading any bugs we were bound to pick up, keep our eye out for food as it was going to become sparse, and generally be prepared for a tough time. In the capital Kinshasha we filled up with diesel and did what would probably be the only decent food shop on this trip. Trundling along the road ran out and we hit our first mud pot hole and got stuck. Here we go all five stars worth! Dug our way out and made camp in the middle of the road as we couldn't find a clearing - we haven't seen another vehicle in days so we should be alright.

More pot holes, more digging and more villages with excited children waving frantically at us was the order of the day. Then to add to the excitement Theresa took a photo of a man on an on-coming truck, but hadn't seen the armed military guy sitting next to him. It wasn't long before the military guy leapt off the truck waving his gun around, loaded it and pointed it - straight at Geoff. All very worrying as you just don't know what is going on in their heads - a lot of them are high on dope. Anyway after shouting incomprehensible sentences, but not leaving much to the imagination, he snatched the camera out of Theresa's hand and ripped the film out. Lyndsay and Geoff tried to calm the guy down and then finally someone from his truck told him to give the camera back, which he did reluctantly, as his male pride had obviously been shattered. Lyndsay gave the upset guy a beer to which he demanded a second for his mate. Once he had the second beer he hugged Geoff like some long lost friend and turned to us on the truck and said 'Bonne Annee' - split personality or what.

Well what a night that turned out to be. After dinner a guy turned up claiming to be from the police and wanted to know what we were doing and why we weren't at the security point. We asked him for ID, but surprise, surprise he didn't have any. Agitated we wouldn't cooperate with whatever it was he was wanting, he said he was going back to the 'station' to get some ID and promised to be back in 10 minutes, and sure enough he was! He had some form of ID, but no photo so we told him we weren't accepting it. So he went away again only to come back with a different photoless ID. Realizing he was getting nowhere he demanded money, beer and cigarettes and threatened to get the police if we didn't give him what he asked for. So we suggested he go ahead and get the police based on the fact that we weren't doing anything illegal and he was! He didn't like that much! He was slightly intoxicated shall we say, and I became increasingly worried what he would do next. Unfortunately, my fears were founded. He went away and returned with ten other guys. Oh shh---ugar! They didn't look very friendly at all. One of them was openly armed, proudly parading his gun around. Another obviously had a gun which he was holding in his right pocket. They were all high. More guys started to appear down the dirt track. This wasn't funny. I really thought it was going to end nastily. Fortunately, it turned out that one of the new arrivals was an official policeman. The entourage must have thought the policeman was going to find in their favour so they tagged along. The original drunken guy made a total fool of himself and then slowly the others started to apologize and tried to be friendly as the official checked our papers. Eventually he agreed that all these checks could wait until we got to the official police check the next day. I couldn't sleep for fear they would return during the night.

We made our way to Kitwit where they had an outbreak of Ebola many years ago. In short, and so as not to get too technical, Ebola is a delightful disease whereby a virus gets inside you, your body explodes and you die. We were meant to be here for Christmas, but fortunately we were behind schedule! Shortly after we departed, the heavens opened and rivers of water were running over pot holes and muddy roads. Water was gushing from under the roads and removing mud and stones from what was left of the road. Not looking good. The truck slid from left to right and occasionally tilted, there were times I thought it was going to tip right over. But somehow we managed to slide, bump, get into and out of pot holes and go up very slippery mud hills without chains. Made it to Kikwit at 2p.m.

With locals following us constantly we headed off down ever worsening roads. The roads became worse, muddier and wetter. We got stuck a couple of times, but with Geoff's driving he managed to get us out without us having to do any digging. Then what was that ahead of us? An overloaded pick-up truck stuck slap bang in the mud in the middle of the road, tilted at a dangerous angle. There was no room for us to overtake. We stopped to investigate the severity of the problem. There was a lot of head scratching by the Africans, but not much in the way action. So we offered some advice like how about taking the hundred weight of cassava flour off the back of the truck so you don't have to dig so deep and to prevent the truck from sinking further? They didn't like that idea. So we got the tow rope out of the truck and tried to pull them out, but no luck.

Eventually losing patience and realising that unless we took control we were here for the long haul, we took all of their shovels, opened our lockers and took all of our shovels and commenced with the project of digging them out. They told us that they had been there for 4 hours already. Just as it didn't look like things could get any worse, a Toyota truck (where has all this traffic suddenly appeared from?) decided to join the party. The driver must have been able to see there was a problem, but attempted to overtake the already stuck vehicle without checking out the status first, and guess what? He too got stuck. That's okay guys, we've only got an extra 5,000 kms to do with no extra time, don't worry. Is this our 'home for the night?' I asked myself. Lunch came and went and we dug and shifted tonnes of soil and even built a new more stable road. Dusk was closing in fast and with only about 10 minutes of day light left and zero patience Geoff said sod this for a game of soldiers, got in his truck, tooted his horn to get everyone out of the way and at great speed gunned it on the new road we had built to pass the two sinking trucks. And? Well he hadn't allowed for the fact that the new road we had built was actually on marshland, so as soon as our 16 tonne Morag hit it she came to a grinding halt, sank several inches into the soft ground almost opposite the original stuck truck. But it got worse. She not only sank, she tilted away from the other truck in the direction of the marshland. Timber! We gathered all the rope we could find and attached ourselves to the other truck. At least now the weight of the cassava flour was really coming in handy! Now pay attention. A Drago truck tips over at 47 degrees. We were very close to that and all our possessions were either on the truck or on the side that was tiling. It was ways too dangerous to even get on the truck at this stage. We half filled an empty beer bottle with water and drew a marker pen line across the level of water when the bottle was hanging from the stairwell. This was our 'plumb line' so we could monitor if the truck was tilting further. As feared this was our home and some brave person volunteered to go on the roof and get our tents down, but it was still too dangerous to get into back locker for our sleeping gear. Of course we were all in shorts and t-shirts for the hot day and now the temperature was dropping like a stone. The cooks put together a warming bean stew and we hid in our tents shivering.

Everyone got up at first light in search of the kettle. Then the heavens opened, terrific! We did even more digging - mainly to dig up the failed road structure of yesterday to start from scratch. The first stuck truck was still there, but the other one must have gotten free somehow. The Africans continued to try and dig their way out of trouble, but the more they tried the worse it got. We were doing slightly better. We had people under, behind and beside the truck digging their hearts out whilst others carried bowl after bowl of soil away into the ditch. We had to dig deep enough until we hit dry land, which with all the rain we had had was easier said than done. By 3 p.m. we lined our new road with branches, mud mats and thick wooden planks and the moment of truth came - would Geoff get us out of here? We all stood further up the road to get a front seat view. The engine started, ready, steady, give gas, go, go on Geoff, give it some wellie! You could see Morag really giving it her best shot as she groaned her way out of the depths of the soil and stuck her wheels like glue to the planks. Geoff gave us a couple of scary slipping and sliding motions before Morag came clear away unscathed! Hurrah! Well done Geoff. Well done us, great team effort. Everyone did something be it digging or making refreshments to keep the troops going. So we broke down camp and cleared everything away before having a good scrub in the local river.

'Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to Elebo we go...' or not - 300 metres up the road we got stuck again! We got off the truck put the sand mats down and tried to get out, but slipped deeper into the mud. Then Lyndsay gave it another go and was successful. We drove about another slow 10 km down the muddy single track road only to meet yet another truck. They had 8WD we only had 2WD. There was no way we could pull over. We had the choice of a bank to the left, a bank to the right or the muddy road behind us we had just conquered. Geoff just lent over his steering wheel and gave him my 'go on, make my day' look and they reversed.

Well breakfast took forever as the fire just would not take, the wood was too damp. We ended up doing the porridge over the gas burners. Still en route for Elebo we made good progress until we misjudged a turn and got stuck in the mud, again. 3 hours of digging later and we were free. Starting to get the hang of this being bogged bit. Then no less than 100 m later we were stuck yet again. This could be a long way through Zaire. All day we were greeted by villagers wishing us a Bonne Année, being New Year's Eve. Eventually we pulled up in a village with a church to start the New Year's Eve celebrations. The party got going and when Hey Macarena came on we all did the set dance duly taught to us by Julia. The locals joined in and were far better at it than us, they have such rhythm. Then the countdown to midnight came and then Happy New Year 1997 - poppers, whistles and sparklers. The poor locals were terrified of all the loud and unusual noises coming from our celebrations that they ran off and took cover. But after they realized it wasn't gun fire or worse they returned with broad smiles. The most touching moment was when the younger members of the group had a turn with the sparklers. They loved it. Trouble was when the sparklers died they then tried to relight them in the fire. The look of disappointment when they didn't light was unbearable.

1 January - Happy New Year! Well we had an eventful start. After a slow breakfast and aftermath of celebrations clear up we set off down the road. Well it wasn't so much a road, but a sort of endless cavern, deep ditch, washed away dug out soil thing. I just don't know how we all stayed seated, we were certainly all shaken and bounced about. Then as Morag rocked from left to right in this ditch we got well and truly pinned against the side 'wall' so much so that we had to climb out of the windows to get out of the truck and do yet more digging. After much digging and an aerobics session where the girls leapt up and down on the fresh dry sand the guys had put down, we all gave Morag and Geoff a wide berth as Geoff gunned it down our newly made road. Morag tilted severely from left to right with the wheels lifting dangerously off the ground, just avoiding tipping over on each occasion - we were still a long way from Elebo so she had to stay upright - once these trucks go over you can forget seeing them again! After successfully clearing the deep crevice Geoff admitted that that was the drive of his life and that he had never experienced such a tilt on a truck before. He explained that he had basically put his foot flat on the floor and spent most of his time horizontal on the cab as he had no control of his body. Thanks for keeping that to yourself until after the event Geoff! Sounds like another narrow escape to me. After lunch the rain seemed set for the day, but at least the afternoon brought better 'roads' - it's all relative (!) and we clocked up a few more kilometres. Until we got stuck again in someone's back yard that is. We tried to turn the truck around, but only succeeded in digging up half their lawn. So after we had dug ourselves out we had to repair that. The people were very friendly and we thought it would be a nice experience to camp there, but when we asked the chief for permission it turned out that they were terrified of us, so we left.

Stop, sink, dig and go seemed to be the name of the game today. We kept hitting soft sand and had to get out and sand mat. Still by 5p.m. we were rewarded with another river wash and another rehydrated food meal, yum. It's amazing how awful food can taste good when you are hungry! Off for some zzzzzzs.

So how far will we get today? According to local information there was a bridge 'just down the road' with trees which needed clearing before we could get through. After that the road deteriorates for the next 140km to Elebo. Well we got over the bridge after chopping back what seemed like half a forest only to sink in yet more sand. The sun went in, the rain poured, the temperature dropped and we got stuck as Geoff didn't see a thumping great big tree ahead of us, misjudged and bingo, we were stuck. So we had to dig ourselves out of the wet mud in the pouring rain. I was freezing cold. The rain was washing sand, dust and general grim from my hair over my forehead into my eyes. My hands were covered in grit and dirt so I couldn't touch my eyes. It took us another 3 hour stint to get us out of that mess, by which time after a grand total of a further 150 metres up the road it was time to make camp. However, after a delightful all over body wash with my extra luxurious pampers baby wipes, a change into dry, warm snugly clothes and a large baileys, life didn't seem so bad. After all, the alternative was another day in the office. This is what we paid for!

Our estimate of 6 days to cover the distance to get to Elebo had been optimistic. Our daily kilometre average remained in single figures. Either we hit a 'good' road, but discovered it to be sand and we had to push or sand mat, or we gunned a dodgy road and hit a log or some other obstacle and ended up doing major road repairs for hours on end. The road was leading to the 'ferry' for want of a better word, hence the bad route. We arrived to catch the ferry around 16:30. The immigration guy in charge of the ferry (?) was not the friendliest of people. First we had to bribe him with $25 to agree to take us on the ferry at all! But that wasn't enough. As government workers hadn't been paid by the Zaire governments for months, they had no cash to buy diesel. The ferry was on the other side of the river as was the nearest village to buy diesel. So the deal was we had to take the battery out of our truck and put Lyndsay with battery in a pirogue with the immigration guy. They went to the other side to first go to the village to buy diesel, steered the pirogue to the ferry, put our truck battery in the ferry, steered the ferry to the truck, where we took our battery out of their ferry and reinstalled it on to our truck to allow us to drive the truck on to the ferry. Once we were on, we once again took the battery out of the truck and fitted it on the ferry. The ferry then took us the grand total of 10 minutes across to the other side, where we took the battery out of the truck, I mean ferry, just checking you are paying attention and know the whereabouts of our battery, and put in back on the truck to drive off the ferry to our spot of land to make camp. And we had to pay not only $25 in bribes, plus tickets, but also for the diesel and to use our own engine? Good business sense on their part.

Geoff managed to gun it up a muddy impossible hill successfully only to become blasé and got stuck on another dodgy road calling for another major road overhaul. Still we are getting better at it, only took us 1 ¼ hours this time. We stopped off for lunch only to discover that our cutlery boxes, washing up gear and a few other things were missing from the side locker. It turned out that as a result of one of our dodgy road encounters, we had sustained severe damage to the lockers and one of the padlocks had broken off. Geoff had made an improvised 'lock' out of a twig. Obviously some little hands had been at work overnight and relieved us of the gear. Eating should be interesting now! We managed to clock up a respectable amount of kilometres until we reached an overhanging branch, well more a tree really, which we could not drive under. So out with the winch. We pulled into the local mission for the night. Looking forward to finally making it to Elebo tomorrow, please! There is promise of a shower there - could do with one of those as we haven't had one since 26 December! Grim! Hopefully we can also replace the water in our drinking water tank as we ran out and had to fill up directly from the Zaire river which resulted in us drinking a muddy orange red coloured solution with interesting crunchy bits. Unfortunately, we had watched the tank being filled up and witnessed quite a bit of sewage going through the pipe also, all beautifully finished off with a touch of water purifier for good measure - bon appetite!

More pot holes and digging out of bogs. Really wet, sticky and smelly stuff! If it wasn't a bog it was sand. If it wasn't sand it was clay or deep holes. I think we have walked, sandmatted and resurfaced most of the route between Idiofa and Elebo for the next overland group to come through. At one point Geoff asked all of us to get off as he wanted to gun the next bit and our weight was a guarantee we would get stuck. He reversed to get himself set up on a straight bit of road, only to get stuck in the pristine garden of a local villager. But we were glad he did coz the village was one of the highlights for me. The locals were terrified at first, as it turned out they hadn't seen white people in three decades. Louise (French-Canadian, school teacher) shook hands with one of the children. Eagerly the other children approached us to also greet us, but as they did one of the older children took a stick and started hitting the children and shouted at them to stop touching us. In French Louise told him to stop hitting the children. He explained he was doing it because he thought we didn't want them to touch us, but Louise assured him it was all ok. Understandably, it took the children a little while to trust us again, but slowly they came to us and shook our hands. Then Giles (Louise's husband) picked a flower and gave it to Louise. I was sitting beside her. The children copied Giles, and one by one picked a single flower and gave it to Louise, smiled, giggled and ran shyly away. Suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to find a shy boy with an outstretched hand with not one, but filled to bursting with flowers. It was just so touching. When we walked back to the truck the children just followed us, picking flowers, cheering, smiling and waving. It was just magical to see such initial fear change to sheer joy. The rest of the day was spent fighting our way to Elebo. However, there had to be one new event before reaching our target - a tree, yes we've had one of those before, but this was jutting out from the bank and Geoff decided he could continue driving and somehow avoid it. But no he mistimed his swings to the left and right and the tree went straight through the window shattering glass all over Sharky. We finally made camp on the wrong side of the river to Elebo.

Lyndsay set off at 06:00 in search of the ferry whilst we prepared the now familiar brekky of porridge oats and bananas. I took this opportunity to wash my trousers which had gotten covered in some smelly stuff whilst digging us out of a bog. I went down to the river with my washing up bowl as we always take water out of rivers, add detergent and dispose of the water far from the river so we stay environmentally friendly. The washing was fun because there were several other women going about their daily business: rinsing beans, washing themselves, washing their kids and washing their laundry, directly in the river. I was great entertainment for them as I washed my feet and legs, looking drop dead gorgeous in my trousers rolled up above my knees. I realized I had left the pack of Omo in the truck so tried to wash the dirty pair of trousers with my shower gel. One of the ladies asked if she could try some and she loved it so much she asked if she could have it - well it's not like I have much chance of showering these days so it is probably ways more valuable to her that to me. I soon fitted in to the scene beating my trousers on the rock following the example of the local ladies. The ferry finally emerged at 13:30 and took us just about half an hour to get us across to Elebo - finally!!!! It had been the familiar story of having to pay lots of money, lend our battery and buy our own diesel, but hey, just remember where we are. And where we have finally gotten to! Of course that wasn't all. We drove around the railway station, hit a sharp object and blew a tyre. Everyone was expecting a big town, but far from it. Finally found ourselves the V12 bar which was the only place kitted out with enough food and drink for us all. V12 was going to be our home until we found the route out. We set up camp at the mission.

Lyndsay went about organizing getting us and the truck on a train, but came back with bad news. Apparently the truck is 0.5m too high to go on the passenger train as freight. The phone is, of course, not working so we couldn't order a container with the next train which meant we would have to wait for the next freight train of which there are two per month, and we just missed the last one. There goes the itinerary again - what itinerary? What else to do in Elebo - head back to V12 bar. What are we going to do for a whole week? Trish and I bought an avocado to give ourselves a little face pack, but maybe we'll save that for tomorrow, or the day after. We cleaned the truck, we sorted out our rucksacks and slowly couldn't see any way out of Elebo.

A week later, after daily chats with the train station, Lyndsay and Geoff returned from the train station with some good and some bad news. The container had arrived earlier than expected, hurrah, but there wasn't any extra space for us like we had been told there would be. Basically the truck would just about fit width and lengthwise on to the container, with edge of wheels overhanging. As it is a freight train, there are no passenger carriages. This meant we would have to sit in the fully booked truck, complete with everything we wanted for the estimated 10 day and night journey i.e. all our sleeping gear, grey boxes of food and 'cooking' equipment. Toilet? Yes the toilet. A new newly purchased bucket with 1 inch of bleach in it would be situated on the stairs of the truck by the door. Privacy would be a bright yellow groundsheet held upright by the lucky two passengers in the front seats. When they stood up that was the 'engaged' sign, when they were seated it was 'vacant'. All included in the price.

Time to sort out the truck to ensure we had only essential stuff on the truck as space was tight. I think people made an extra effort to ensure their bowels were well and truly emptied and then mentally prepared themselves to bung up for a week, as nobody wanted their toilet habits publicly displayed! Finally time to drive to the station to sort out the final important paperwork and to get us loaded on to the container. It was pretty hairy watching them strap Morag into a cradle whose material had seen better days and watch her being lifted off the ground, swinging precariously searching for the container. Once over the container, she was lowered and then release from the cradle with a 'slight' bang! As promised, the truck just fitted on the container so our initial idea of setting up a seating and cooking area and a private toilet area were totally and utterly out of the question. We were really confined to the inside of the truck. Of course the real joy of it being a freight container meant there was no timetable and certainly no consideration for passengers. We were effectively freight! We were all ready to go when we were told that the departure had been postponed until noon next day. Some pitched their tents, but Lyndsay and I opted to have a trial run of sleeping on the truck.

The game of postponing departure continued. Midday next day became 14:00, which became 20:000 which became 22:00. At 22:00 hrs we decided to settle on the truck and awaited departure, whenever. Well 'whenever' came and went until it was breakfast and after being told several times we would leave, we finally did.

We were told the journey to the next 'stop' would take 18-24 hours. Breakfast, lunch and dinner were basically going to be the same until we got to civilization - corned beef, sardines, dairylea cheese, pineapple and bananas. As Graham put it "I used to like corned beef". At least he had variety - us veggies were just a little tired of dairylea! Nobody wanted to be the first to christen the bucket, so knowing that muggins here was going to be the most frequent visitor to the facilities, what with my weak bladder, I decided to break the ice. Well an eerie silence fell on the truck as the groundsheet encircled me. Then of course with anticipation hanging in the air I couldn't go! So Geoff started singing all the songs he knew containing references to flowing water, streams and rivers. Finally I managed to go to rapturous applause.

The 18 - 24 hours naturally took 30. The deal was to go into town to get dinner and be back in time to leave around 20:00 which inevitably turned in to 21:30, which on previous experience was progress!

One evening the driver stopped at 20:30 opposite a clearing and suggested we camped as it would be more comfortable. The only trouble was there were loads of men in the car park all armed and looking none too pleased to see us either. I think I'd rather be on the truck. Going to the loo was fun, trying to find some privacy without being followed - where's my bucket and groundsheet - see you only appreciate what you've got once you've lost it! All the friendliness we experienced to date had evaporated and we were all feeling very unsafe. We had heard there were more troubles and fighting in the region and locals and military were out to kill anyone trying to kill President Mabutu, which we had been accused of on more than one occasion.

It hadn't escaped us that when the driver did stop, perhaps for nap, he did so for quite some time. So we asked him if it would be possible to let us off the train to give us a chance to disappear behind the bushes and then for him to toot his horn when he was about to leave, so as not to leave anyone behind. This he agreed to. So when we next stopped, we all got off very excited, lined up behind the bushes not too far away from the train, pulled down our trousers and just as we began to relieve ourselves he tooted the horn. You have never seen 23 people move so quickly, some with trousers around their ankles, what a sight. Remember, we are in the middle of absolutely nowhere with no transportation except this train, so it was important to be on that train. Just as we got near the train he says 'Just kidding'! Just wanted to see how quick you can run in case we need to make a hasty departure! Very amusing!

During one stop we used the opportunity to go into the town and change up some Zaire dollars. The money changers just sit at their tables with piles and piles of notes in front of them. Even if somebody came along and stole the entire contents of a table, they wouldn't have very much money in real terms! It takes so long to calculate any bill or count out money.

We got back to the truck only to find our truck surrounded by immigration officers who were none too pleased that we had gone out of the train station compound in to town without their permission (which we didn't know we needed). They basically grounded us. The latest news was that the train would leave around 22:00hrs and take 12 hours to the next stop. Immigration finally agreed that we could go in to town to find some food, but only if we took an escort. So 7 of us went to immigration to tell them we wanted to go in to town and we understood someone had to accompany us, but we made it clear it was the rule from the immigration officer, not us and therefore we were not going to pay any money to them. This caused a commotion and took 40 minutes before they agreed. Once the escort was out of the compound though his attitude changed and he was very pleasant. Dinner took forever from ordering to finally paying and counting out all the bills! On the way back, Trish and I spotted a tap with running water (not a given!) so took turns to wash each others hair - what a difference. The train finally departed just before 02:00. We trundled along for about an hour and a half before stopping. During that night our tarp was slashed and all the booze was stolen.

We arrived at Kamina at midnight looking forward to pitching tents only to be told the train would depart for Lumumbashi at 03:00, so we stayed put. We didn't actually set off until 05:00, but the train seemed to be move faster. Apparently the standard of track improves the further south because of South African involvement. The hostility seems to have subsided somewhat too. That said the train did stop in the middle of nowhere and a 'passenger', well a stowaway was dragged off from under the container and shot dead in front of the train.

The news came that we were only 150 kms away from Lumumbashi, but that says nothing when we recall one day and night journey we only covered 42kms! However, we have been assured we will be there for lunch. Well we did get there the same day, even in day light at 15:30 so not too bad. We were just relieved to be finally able to get ourselves off the truck! Unfortunately, by the time we found out how to get poor Morag off the container, all the necessary people had left for the day so she was stranded. We set up camp, made dinner and slept in our tents! How happy were we?

The guys that were meant to turn up at 06:00 to take the truck off the container, arrived at 09:00 and heated discussions followed as Lyndsay and Geoff tried to supervised the operation. In the meantime, we all took advantage of the shower facilities and also did our laundry! Feeling squeaky clean with a safely lowered truck we set of for the Zambian border. Zaire - what an experience

As we had had to wait for over a week for the freight container to get to us and the 9 days/8 nights train journey itself, we were ways behind schedule and still had huge distances to cover in order to get to Nairobi on schedule. That meant long days of driving and early wake up calls. We had been threatened with a 12 hour drive to Lusaka, but got there in 6 hours as the road was just about tarmac all the way and had recently been upgraded We missed the visa place by 5 minutes so were told to get our own lunch and meet back at the truck at 15:00. We spent our time in the luxury of the Irish Bar attached to the Holiday Inn. Morag turned up to collect us, but we all voted to stay put. Literally in some cases as Trisch and I decided to treat ourselves to a room. Hot water!! Caught up on the news which was reporting aid workers had been shot dead in the Gorilla trekking area where we are supposed to be going, guess not?

Lyndsay collected us the next day and drove us into town for a walkabout whilst the visas were issued. So much for having to make up lots of time and kms! It doesn't matter how good the roads are, the visa process is still very slow.

Driving on ever improving roads from Lusaka headed north and ate up 760 kms. After another day on the truck continuing north, we crossed into Tanzania. Long driving days were only broken up by a visit, albeit a driving visit, through Mikumi Park to see a few animals. Drove to the Maasai people where we were really able to mingle with them, sat around the truck, visited their houses and played frisbee.

Driving in a different set of wheels, we set off in four wheel drive land rovers to the Ngorongoro Crater. The views during the 2 hour decent into the naturally formed crater were spectacular. We got right up close and personal with lots of animals in their natural environment. This is the biggest concentration of varied wildlife in the world. We got to see: water buck, blue monkey, rats(!) Thomsons Gazelle, Agama Lizard, Wildebeests, Cape Buffalo, Masaai Zebra and a baby version, Grong Gazelle, bush pig, hippos, jackals, lions and cubs, hyena, elephants, hartebeest, klippspringer, duikes, baboons, a single leopard well hidden in a tree, black rhino, superb starling, guinea fowl, ostrich, fescal shrike, glossy ibis, avocet, Egyptian goose, red billed duck, crowned crank, kori bustard, hadadhbis, black winged stilt, curlew, black headed heron, secretary bird, Nubian vulture, crowned plover, sacred ibis, red billed duck. Totally awestruck we drove to the lodge with a view a stunning viewpoint.

More excitement as we headed for the Serengeti. Saw heaps of wildlife en route: more Thompsons gazelle, Grants gazelle, eland, wildebeest, hartebeest, zebra, African hare, giraffes, hyena, jackal, dik dik, kori bustard, guinea fowl, ostrich, secretary birds and bateler eagle. In the Serengeti itself we got to see: cheetah and her 3 cubs, lions, lioness and cubs, hyena, buffalo, waterbuck, tori, fox, rock hyray, tantolus, monkeys, striped hyena, spotted hyena, scrub hare, topi, impala, baboon, bush pig, water hog, elephants and babies, hippos, lions and mongoose. By now we were up to here with all the different varieties of gazelles and similar or BLTs (Bambi like things) as we started to call them. We bush camped right in the middle of the Serengeti - lion roars and hyenas and the like. Reluctantly got up in the middle of the night for a pee, but had to keep an eye out so as not to get eaten!
After stopping off at the hippo pool which was just full of big hippos, mama hippos and baby hippos, soooooo cute, we gunned it to the exit before the permit expired and made our way to Kenya!

I spent most of the morning, with the assistance of my fellow passengers, trying to undo the braids, well dreadlocks by now, in my hair. What a mess! I was sure there was a family of something growing in there somewhere. Fortunately, our finishing hotel had a hairdresser next to it, which is where I was to spend the two four hours in Nairobi, but not before sorting out a 5 star hotel for the next day, my last night. So, with half my hair still in braids and the other half a dirty frizzy mop and having not showered for the best part of a week I entered the lobby of the Hilton Nairobi to reserve a room. I got some strange looks as if to say 'sorry dear you won't be able to afford to stay here', but after I flashed my credit card about they reserved a room for me.

I then noticed a jewellery store attached to the reception area and couldn't resist a peep. A well dressed and coiffeured lady approached me, quickly followed by two burly security guards. After she had stopped and asked if she could be of assistance, she purposefully took a step backwards. I asked to see some gold earrings and a bracelet. She asked me if I had been camping. This time I stepped back, smiled and said 'why yes, how did you guess?' 'Your t-shirt and nails kind of give the game away', she replied tactfully. My nails were broken, split and dirty and my t-shirt which used to be pink, was now a sort of muddy grey colour. I then realized that she had stepped back as I obviously ponged a bit. We both had a good laugh about it anyway, I made the purchases and left.

After the painful session at the hairdresser it was back to the hotel to shower and then off for the farewell dinner at Carnivores Restaurant where they serve all the animals on a skewer we had been admiring in the game parks - well they are farm reared animals, but still glad I am vegetarian!! I had a salad!

I checked into the Hilton as soon as possible the next day - sheer bliss. I had a long soak in the bath with lots of bubbles, but when I got out there was an embarrassing thick black rim around the bath tub which just would not go away. I did take three showers in the last hotel, before checking in to the Hilton, but obviously that wasn't enough! So I put the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on my door and quickly went in search of some Jif bath cleaner! As I went gracefully down the stairs in to the lobby area, the lady from the jewellery shop recognized me and admiring my new look with my flowing long blond hair, glowing skin and clean clothes mouthed "that's much better dear!" Back to the hotel armed with a bath sponge and cleaning materials I scrubbed the bath - maybe I should try cleaning me with this stuff, seems to remove everything!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/uk_-_kathmandu/623571540/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/uk_-_kathmandu/623571540/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/uk_-_kathmandu/623571540/tpod.html Thu, 20 Sep 2007 10:33:25 -0400 UK to Kathmandu on a retired ex London double decker bus.

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London, United Kingdom

"I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way" - a profound statement I remember seeing on a poster one day; very apt for the stage in my life at the moment. With all that has happened to me recently, now is a good time to run away and escape for all the reasons only a girl could know. I had a huge farewell party which lasted 3 days and nights and saw 120 people walk in and out my door, some of whom I didn't even know!

With ways too little $$$$$$ and ways too much luggage, (and as I was to find out later, the wrong luggage at that - Laura Ashley dress, Laura Ashley pink jumper, Laura Ashley frilly blouse, blue jeans and to set it all off, my Gucci shoulder handbag and before you ask, yes a real one, although everyone thought I got it in Thailand, and that before I even got there!) I made my way into London and looked for the joining hotel. When I finally found the hotel I misread the AA rating commended as condemned, although once I got inside, I considered my rating to be the more accurate of the two! That evening there was a pre-departure meeting with the driver Johnno, the leader Kerry and the other passengers so we could be informed of what was in store for us.

The next morning we met "Lemming", our mode of transport and home on wheels for the next 10 weeks - a 30 year old former London Wimbledon based double-decker bus, top speed 34 mph, and naught to sixty in, well in a previous life maybe! And this should take us overland to Kathmandu? Mmmm we'll see! So would you like the tour of our pad? Our home is compact and bijoux as the saying goes. Everything a home needs - a sort of lounge diner downstairs with seating and a fully equipped kitchen (in camping terms), a home entertainment system in the driver's cab area, a library, a row of hooks to hang coats above a wooden box designated for footwear which is to be removed before climbing the spiral staircase to the bedroom - no fluffy pristine white carpet, but bunk beds and small cupboards to store our stuff. Unpacking had been fun. Everyone turned up with ways too much stuff and then spent the day figuring out how to fit the contents of a 70 litre rucksack into a small cupboard with one shelf. A little like trying to understand Pythagoras's theory or the square root of something if you ask me.

We made the ferry crossing to Oostend made much more pleasurable by the kind donation of a slab of beer from Steve from Australia. We sat on the deck floor armed with a beer and exchanged life stories. We drove the bus off the ferry and gunned it through Belgium, quickly learning how to cook dinner and spill coffee en route - a bit like trying to cook a meal on a ship in a storm really, but with suspension! As we entered Germany the world fell like flies, exhausted from the long drive and initial high level talks. After a night's driving we woke up in cold Switzerland, parked up and made breakfast and took a well needed shower. Most took a morning stroll in to Lauterbrunnen and had a chat with the local Jersey like cows. The walk was well needed to get the blood pumping around the body as we set off for an 18 hour drive to Venice where we arrived at 3:00 a.m. in the pouring ran. There was a mild acknowledgement of our arrival by a few semi-conscious passengers as they realized that the motion of the bus, which had sent them off into a deep slumber in the bunk beds, had ceased to be. Unimpressed, they turned over and fell straight back to sleep for a well deserved lie in after such an exhausting day.

Slowly but surely people surfaced, ate breakfast and headed in to town to shop, eat genuine Italian pizza and drink the local blanc - all very civilized! Fed and watered we took the ferry trip in to St. Mark's Square and then a local boat to Murano for the obligatory glass demonstration. I tried to have my picture taken on the Bridge of Sighs, but Mark was experiencing 'operator error' and just couldn't work my idiot proof point and shoot Olympus Trip camera. He said he was pushing the button, but there was no acknowledgement that the picture had taken, so he just kept on pressing, 24 times in fact as I was to find out later when I had the photos developed! When we made it back home we were greeted by 3 other Top Deck buses so plans to do an overnight drive through Yugoslavia were shelved in favour of a party and a BBQ. Flexibility is the key to our itinerary!

There is always a price to pay for an ad-hoc party and ours was a 04:30 start to drive to the Italian border where sniffer dogs ran riot through our home, and that was just to let us OUT of the country! Brad decided to be funny and said "I hope the dog can find the cornflakes, because we can't!" Finally through, we drove up to and cleared the Yugoslavian border. The drive through Yugoslavia en route to Kavalla, Greece was all motorway, so pretty uninteresting, so the time was spent with lots more chatting, reading and listening to the stereo.

Today was the first day bus duties started. Everyone was delegated a job to do: empty the bin, clean the bus window, washing up etc. I was on cleaning duty - what's a mop and bucket? Where's my Mrs. Mop from Windsor? I'm on holiday!! Today was a big day also as we were introduced to the pit stop. From here on in toilets as we know them were to be a thing of the past and were generally going to consist of stopping at the roadside to find a bush with varying degrees of privacy and local audiences. "Boys to the left, girls to the right" was to become a familiar throng every couple of hours en route. So this is what they meant by 5 star adventure and making life long friends!

Black clouds and a cold wind greeted us as we arrived in Kavalla. Some braved a swim in the cold Mediterranean whilst the rest of us made preparations for the romantic sounding beach party with lamb on a spit and two rubbish bins (clean, freshly purchased!) full of sangria. The fruit had been prepared earlier in the day on the bus and steeped in the alcoholic ingredients of the sangria to soak for several hours before adding the juice. The weather decided to try and ruin our plans and deteriorated rapidly - torrential rain, even hail, but we are rufty tufty overlanders right? Nothing was going to spoil our fun, oh no. Huddled together around the fire, wearing practically everything we owned, slowly cooking the lamb on the spit, we braved the elements and drank Sangria to numb the pain of the cold. It reminded me of Bournemouth Pier with people sitting in their cars with blankets across their knees, cupping their hands around the plastic beaker of a thermos flask, watching the waves crashing in, pretending to be having a 'wonderful time'. And we paid for this!? But then our spirits lifted as the music Johnno had set up with his extra large speaker came out of the bus and got into our blood and we started to dance - more out of the necessity to keep warm than anything else! I was 'requested' to strut my stuff on the table and obliged as I was assisted on to the 'stage'. Others joined me and sangria was fed to the party goers courtesy of a cooking ladle and eventually from the rubbish bin itself! A great time was had by all, but there were a few sore heads the next day which fortunately was just a driving day to the Turkish border where we made camp and partied in the camp site bar - as you do!

In Istanbul we visited the Blue Mosque and the Grand Bazaar where you cannot move for "Come into my shop, just looky looky. No need to buy" or "Can I help you spend your money?" or my favourite "I love you - my heart goes ticky tacky toe for you!" Everywhere we went we were offered apple tea which is served in tiny glasses with huge sugar lumps, you know the type I mean, the stuff that never dissolves no matter how hot the water is or how much you try and stir it into the liquid! It was quite yummy considering I don't even like tea! We visited the Pudding Club where Midnight Express was filmed - I haven't seen the film, but everyone has heard of it. The evening was spent at a touristy Turkish evening with local food and belly dancing, which can only be described as just dreadful. We couldn't leave fast enough.

A second visit to the Grand Bazaar the following day started off badly as we promptly got lost. One of the guys from one of the many carpet shops we had visited the day before recognised us and offered to help us as he guided us back to his shop for some more tea. We got chatting and he told us about and invited us to a family wedding that evening, seemed rude not to accept. Most backed out at the last moment, but Ruth and I decided it was too good an opportunity to miss out on some real culture. The wedding was packed with over 300 guests. The bride and groom spent their entire time meeting and greeting and when they shook our hands you could see them looking at each other with confused eyes as if to ask who the hell are these people, are they with you?! There was lots of traditional dancing and during the dancing people went up to the bride to pin bank notes on to her dress. Then suddenly and without warning the music stopped and everyone left abruptly at midnight. We decided that the bride and groom must have collected enough money for the honeymoon by then!

Time for a total change of mood now as we visited Gallipolis where young service men from Britain, New Zealand and Australia fell during the Great War. As with any war memorials it was extremely moving. The cemetery is located on top of a mountain cliff overlooking the Mediterranean and with the sun shining and the waves coming in you had to concede that despite all the sadness, it was a lovely spot, with a certain peacefulness.

We were up at 6a.m. to catch the ferry across the Dardanelles - which meant we had officially arrived in Asia. We arrived at Sulcek mid afternoon to yet more rain, just in time for a walk around the ancient city of Ephesus. Drenched we were then treated to a session at the Turkish baths with the locals, so a real Turkish bath, not one just set up for the tourists - aahhrr, bliss. As soon as we entered and paid our money, we were handed the smallest of towels to cover the essentials. However, they might as well have let us run around naked because after a brief sauna we were escorted in to the public arena where modesty was not allowed. Each of us received our own personal masseuse, our towels were unceremoniously removed and we were given a rub down, a soapy massage, another wash, a steam, exfoliation and a few slaps here and there on the bum for good measure or "to help the circulation" was the official reasoning, yeah right.

Exhausted from all that pampering and inactivity we lounged about in Kusadasi to recover before our early drive to Pummakale, which means cotton castle and describes the little pools of hot springs situated on a travertine of chalk residue quite well. Trying to lose the rain and the dark clouds that have pursued us since entering Turkey we tried to trick the weather by heading for the coast of Side, 5 km from Muskagat. I spent a lot of the evening watching the waves crashing on the shore front and reflecting on the past 18 months.

What's that up there in the sky? Good grief is it really? Yes it is, it's the sun! And it's a hot one, high time to break out the factor 30 and the bikini. Many people flocked to the beach to soak up the rays, and the rest of us chose to shop in town. Back to change in to something more feminine, my Laura Ashley number, and off to the Jungle Bar which resembled the Flintstones' house and had a groovy rock dance floor. We ate, drank and danced the night away, yes again.

Another day on the beach and an opportunity to empty the shoe box and dry out all that soaking wet footwear. I went in to town only to return to find one of my boots missing. The story goes that a local Alsatian took a liking to one of my boots, picked it up between its teeth and ran off with it! I thought the group was trying to wind me up so I said yes, very funny, game over where have you hidden my boot? But it turned out the mad story was true.

The long drive to Silifke was broken up by a visit to Mamure Kalesi Castle dating back to 3AD and Anomur/Reyhanli a 14th century Ottoman Castle. The drive between Side and Silifke takes in the beautiful Turkish and we appreciated even more so, as the black clouds had finally given up their chase.

Another long drive this time to the Syrian border and then on to Iskendrum. In Damascus we spent a couple of days exploring the amazing undercover bazaar at the end of which is the Omayad Mosque. John the Baptist's head is reputed to be in the Mosque whilst his arm is in Istanbul. Here the girlies had to take off their shoes and put on the local long black hooded robes and cover all our beauty. The bazaar is reputed to be the oldest constantly inhabited city in the world. We spent the day wandering up and down alley after alley of shops and market areas taking in the various smells (some more pleasant than others) of herbs and spices, citrus aromas, meat, fish amongst others all mingled with the hustle and bustle of the bartering. I felt like I had stepped back into biblical times, it was just magical.

Having cleared Syrian and Jordanian borders we all settled down for some more driving only to hear Johnno shout "Where did the f**---- road go Bernie?" We looked out of our windows to see the abrupt end of the a civilized tarmac road and the start of a make shift road full of pot holes, gravel and mud. Let the overlanding begin! So we bounced our way to Jerash, the most ancient Roman City to be found in
Jordan, and probably the world to have a walk around. Unfortunately, only about 20% can be seen as it has been built on! Then some free time in Amman.

As we set off to leave Amman we got cut up by some bright spark driving a Merc. Thanks to Johnno's superb driving we managed to swerve and minimized the damage to Lemming by smashing into the front of the Merc! Bullseye! Good job Johnno! Poor Rebecca (or weed as I called her), the bus houseplant, was a little worse for wear. But we collected her, her soil and packed her safely back into her decorative pot and made her as good as new again! The driver of the Merc decided to tell the police that Kerry had been driving, not Johnno in the hope that the police would prosecute her. Fortunately, the police and the court we had to attend were slightly more switched on than the driver had thought, and worked out pretty quickly what was going on and who was telling the truth. In less than a record 2 hours we had been to court, the judge had found in our favour and we were on our way again this time to Aqaba and Wadi Rum.

We did a most forgettable glass bottom boat trip, which was about all we got to see, the glass on the bottom of the boat, the water was so murky. However, we could see Israel across the Gulf of Aqaba and also got a glimpse of the Saudi border, the closest I'll ever get I imagine. Mid afternoon we drove to Petra and got in late at 9 p.m. had dinner and went straight to bed as we had to get up at the crack of dawn the next day to avoid the crowds and the heat of the day to go down the sandy path to visit Petra.

Kerry gave us a wake up call at 4 a.m. and made us all a nice cup of coffee to give us a caffeine shot for the estimated 3 km walk to Petra and then announced that she, however, was going back to her comfy bed as it was ways to early for her! We made our way down the sandy path to be greeted with the spectacular entrance of the 'treasury', as seen in Indiana Jones. The sunrise was perfectly timed and lit up the surrounding rocks over Petra. The colour of the rocks changed minute by minute and we could only stand and stare. We spent about 3 hours wandering through the caves trying to imagine how this so well hidden away placed survived as a trading point for pottery and silk. You so have to know it's there to find it!

As if the day hadn't been stunning enough we headed out to the Dead Sea. For a few days everyone had been working on their plan as to how they were going to defy the Dead Sea and sink and pretend to drown. Unfortunately, we only arrived at sunset, so it was a little too dark for photos, but we all floated out there and despite our best efforts, nobody succeeded in sinking. What a strange feeling.

For some reason, we were not allowed to take Lemming into Jerusalem, or Big J as it is affectionately known, so the plan was for us to spend a few days in Big J before returning to the bus to go to Iran, except us 7 Brits who, as usual making friends with the rest of the world, could not get visas for Iran. So we were booked on a diversion trip around Egypt for a couple of weeks, while the others were to make their way across Iran. We would then hook up in Pakistan.

The local bus took us into Big J and the first thing we all noticed was the huge presence of incredibly young military personnel. Our hotel was in a top location, right in the middle of the Old City at Damascus Gate. Cool! We walked around the city and ended up in the Kangaroo Bar to become acquainted with the cocktail menu followed by a visit to a couple of clubs where armed service guys were bopping away with their guns, whilst at the same time admiring themselves in the full length mirrors which encircled the dance floor. How attractive!

Some of us decided to take a local excursion to Bethlehem. The church has a really low door, which in the olden days was intended to prevent cattle and horses from entering (and was nowadays probably meant to keep the tourists out too!). How clever is that? There was a church service going on around what they say was the manger area. Although I am not in the slightest bit religious, there was "something in the air" which I cannot describe, I don't know a 'presence'. Feeling very strange and confused, we headed back into town for the best falafels in the world - a big fat pita bread filled to bursting with falafels, salad and yogurt yum! We did our Oliver Twist impression and said "Please can we have some more"?! We ate them day in day out, they were just sooooo tasty and cheap.

The afternoon was spent on a walking guided tour of the Old City which included walking part of the Via Dolorosa, the 14 Stations of Christ. Again, remember I am not religious, but as I walked that route, wow, it felt well strange. After our evening meal we went back to the Underground Disco, one of the clubs we had visited the night before, but the atmosphere wasn't as good so we went to Champs down the road where we got chatting to a couple of locals who offered to show us how to play darts. This naturally turned into a vodka drinking session whereby if you lost, you drank a shot. I think you can guess where things went from here! As we were dreadful to put it mildly, we got to drink the most - you see there are advantages of being useless at some things! The locals had a blast, and for our efforts and as a sign of their appreciation and friendship we were awarded a Champs dart team t-shirt - new clean clothes how exciting! It's the little things that keep you going! We walked back to our hotel stopping off at a shop selling the most amazing, long baguettes with every imaginable filling, and ate one in the hope of soaking up some of the excess alcohol. We thought it was a late night snack, but turned out the shop was the local baker, the first shop to open in the morning at 06:00, so it was breakfast - ooops!

Our planned day trip to Tel Aviv didn't materialize because the hangovers lasted until midday. However, by the afternoon we had pulled ourselves together and decided to do the culture vulture thing and visit the local 'crumblies' (important historical sites!) The Dome of the Rock Mosque was an absolute jaw dropper with its architecture, beautiful gold roof and colourful tiles. Inside the mosque itself, is a huge rock of huge historical importance. Then on to the Asqa Mosque which was left in the shade following the Dome of the Rock, but interesting all the same. We walked back to the Old City following the steps of the Via Delarosa in full this time. Having totally shrugged off the hangovers, we energetically climbed the long steep road to the Mount of Olives, Gethsemane, St. Mary Magdalene church, Mary's tomb, the ascension stone, the Russian church and the School of Languages. The panoramic view of Jerusalem, with a great view of the Dome of the Rock mosque from the top was just awesome. We also saw into the area of the Wailing Wall and watched the locals read from their text standing facing the wall make short bowing motions to the wall. People were also writing words on pieces of paper, folding them and placing them in the cracks of the wall. After much searching we found Christ's tomb, on which I banged my head when trying to enter, the anointing stone and Sepulchre. Still that well weird thing in the air.

So our time in Big J had come to an end all too soon and it was time to say a temporary farewell for a couple of weeks to our fellow travellers as they headed back to the bus and Iran. We spent a long and frustrating day trying to get out of Israel, into Egypt and then find our hotel and tour leader. To cut a very long story short, everything that could go wrong did, but eventually after 14 hours we were in our rooms looking forward to tomorrow and the start of 2 weeks in Egypt.

The first day started off with a guided tour of Cairo, first stop the Cairo Museum. Useless fact of the day - apparently if you spend just 1 minute at each exhibit you would need over 9 years to see the museum it's that big, so you had to be pretty selective about what you wanted to see. Needless to say, most want to see King Tutankhamun's (King Tut to his mates) stuff. After lunch we drove out to Giza to see the famous pyramids. I tried to go inside the Mycerinus pyramid, but this involved climbing down a ladder in a crouched position. It was all very narrow and a little too claustrophobic for me, not to mention the additional challenge of dealing with some friendly local Egyptian who took a liking to my backside and tried to grope it! So I retreated (without my new found friend) and got out for some well needed fresh air.

Then a chance to do our Lawrence of Arabia impression by taking a camel ride around the pyramids. Well when in Rome....! Coke and Pepsi, yes interesting names for camels I agree, were relaxing in a cross between a sitting and lying position on the desert floor, waiting with great anticipation for their next victims, sorry tourists. Once we were 'secured' in the uncomfortable 'seat' on the camel's back, the camel began to stand up. Well what a sensation that was. The camel stands up the opposite way you expect, to the point where it almost throws you off, much to its amusement as can be seen with that stupid grin on its face. I screamed with fear like a child! Well now I've done it, I don't need to do it again. Smelly, spitting animals they are too!

Next up was the Sphinx which was really badly eroded, but then so would you be if you'd been stuck out in the fierce heat and wind of the arid desert for over 2,000 years having forgotten your sunscreen.

A free day was spent exploring Cairo, Islamic Cairo and Old Cairo, that's a lot of Cairo, in more depth, deeper than we thought at times, as we kept getting lost! Having well and truly done Cairo, we boarded the overnight train to Aswan. What a fun journey that turned out to be. The 'room service' was very cordial and the food excellent all followed by a session in the bar which deteriorated into another table dancing session, but this time on the bar. Due to the height restriction of the train though, the dancing was unusual performed in a crouching position and looked very odd!

After a comfortable few hours sleep we woke up to be greeted by the wonderful Nile surrounded by palm trees, quite a contrast to Cairo. After checking into our very posh hotel we took a Felucca boat ride down the Nile stopping off to visit Elephantine Island, Kitchener's Island and the Aga Khan's mausoleum.

A 04:00 a.m. wake up call got us on the longest and straightest road I know bound for Abu Simbel which was 'relocated' after the rising waters of Lake Nasser threatened to submerge it forever. A UNESCO project cleverly 'cut' the monument into blocks and relocated it some 65 metres up the hill to safety. Ramses II had this Temple built to honour himself and the Gods Ra-Herakhty, Amun and Ptah. Nearby is the Temple of Hathor in honour or Ramses II's favourite wife Queen Nefertari.

No hotel for us for the next couple of nights as we boarded our toilet-less Felucca, but at least there was an esky for the cold beers. We had to do absolutely nothing, and I mean nothing, no cooking, no cleaning, no making beds; we just had to turn up, eat the food that was prepared for us three times a day, drink the beer that was cooled for us as and when we required it, relax and admire the view. OK I won't argue with that, where do I sign? After dinner was served and cleared away, all that remained for us to do was to snuggle up in our sleeping bags to protect us from the chilly breeze, remain horizontal and while away the time by starring into the milky way, watching the twinkling stars and compete to see who could see the most shooting stars.

After breakfast we continued to drift down the Nile to the Temple of Kom Ombu. The blistering hot afternoon was spent seeking shelter under the canopy of the Felucca drifting even further down the river. And day two was more of the same. We set sail for Edfu to visit Horis Temple. I was suffering badly from constipation to the point Sunny, our leader, insisted on calling in the doctor. And the conversation went something like this:

"What seems to be the problem my dear?" asked the doctor.
"Well I'm 7 days constipated."
"Oh ur, sorry my English not good. By constipation you mean diarrhoea?"
"No, I mean constipation, opposite of diarrhoea."

Looking perplexed, he decided to administer two enemas. Well let's put it this way - the first didn't work, and neither did the second. He made me some herbal tea and gave me some laxatives. Nothing. He spoke again:

"Never in my 25 years as a doctor in Egypt have I had a tourist with constipation."

I didn't have the heart to tell him that before we called him out I had been drinking the local unpurified water and eating food from the market stalls covered in flies, so I should have had diarrhoea anyway! He left, but not before leaving me his 75 Egyptian pounds medical bill!

Feeling groggy, I dragged myself to the Valley of the Queens and to the temple of Hatshepsut before heading off to the Valley of the Kings, which were discovered by Carter in 1922 just as he was about to abandon years of effort. They are the richest tombs to be discovered in Egypt to date. Other tombs had been robbed and emptied of their treasures, but King Tut's, whilst small, had remained out of reach of the robbers and the jewels were saved. King Tuts hieroglyphics were in very good condition as were the colourful wall paintings. The worst sight of the day had to be the mummified foetus of a miscarried baby, grim.

An early start was had on the next day to drive to the Red Sea, Sharm El Naga near Hurghada for some R&R, snorkelling or diving. Our accommodation consisted of huge white tents, but with proper beds, right on the sea front. It was so relaxing listening to the waves coming in as we slept.

The next day I decided to be brave and have my first ever go at snorkelling. What a sight for sore eyes. There was me trying to fit into a wet suit with my bulging still constipated stomach (they don't call it skin tight for nothing!) and attempting to put on a flipper standing on one leg. And that was all before negotiating breathing through my mouth attached to a mask and snorkel. As if that wasn't enough, I then had to work out how to enter the water, which I was told could only be successfully carried out by walking backwards. I cannot begin to imagine how ridiculous I must have looked - a confused penguin, but not quite so dextrous? I managed to fall over once and resembled a beached whale! Two people had to help me to my feet. Still it was all well worth the humiliation for the spectacular fish and corals.

One of the girls on the trip found out about my 'problem' and told me she had done a massage course before she left home and asked if I would like a stomach massage of the intestine area as she was confident it would help. Not knowing that such a thing existed believing that massage was a pleasurable thing I said sure. I was open to trying anything at that stage. However, for someone who was 'confident' it would work, she was looking a little unsure.

"What's the matter?" I asked, trying not to look worried.

"Well, it's just I can't remember whether you are meant to do the massage clockwise or anti-clockwise because when I was training we took turns at giving and receiving stomach massages, and obviously giving and receiving put a different perspective on the direction so I'm just a bit confused, and the more I think about it, the more confused I am."

Great. In an attempt to offer her some sort of reassurance I said "Well, um, does it really matter?" I said through a forced smile.

"Oh, yes, um actually yes, yes it does, very much so" she said in a way that really wasn't helping my increasing lack of confidence in her.

"If I do the massage in the correct direction you will have a bowel movement, and if not, well um....you could die!!"

Well this just gets better doesn't it?

"I see" I said trying to buy time whilst contemplating my next clever statement. Before I could think of anything better to say I came up with:

"Well if I don't go to the toilet soon I guess I'm going to die anyway, so I have nothing to lose really, right?" and laughed nervously.

"Well if you put it like that!" she laughed nervously back!

45 minutes of what I can only describe as an excruciatingly painful massage later I retired to my tent, clinging onto my pour stomach area.

Next day, success! I feel like a new woman! But not for long. A ferry ride from Sharm El Sheikh northwards to St. Catherines in a force 9 gale saw to that. Why? To climb Mount Sinai of course. Just about everyone was throwing up and the toilets were blocked and totally unusable within an hour of leaving port. It didn't matter if you sat still, stood up, hung on to a rail for dear life looking in a forward direction, or lay down wishing you were somewhere else, anywhere else, you never retained that position for long and vomiting was to follow. We seemed to move one wave forward and three back. The journey seemed endless and it is the closest I have ever been to truly believing that I was not going to make the journey alive. We later found out that according to safety regulations, the boat should never have left the port. Money rather than safety seemed to have been the captain's priority. The weather forecast was bad and the boat had been overloaded beyond passenger capacity. That said no charges were made against the captain or the ship company so they will no doubt do it again and again until there is a catastrophe.

We arrived at customs exhausted and very late, or early depending on your point of view, 02:00 a.m. Customs were obviously bored and I think we must have been their only visit of their shift, so they decided to be difficult and delayed us as much as they could. They could clearly see we had been on the boat from hell, but they didn't care and made us open all our bags and empty the contents for their inspection. We finally made it to our accommodation consisting of a brick building somehow covered by a tent. If it had been warm I would have said it was a cosy set up, but it was freezing cold and unwelcoming. All but four of us dressed up in their warmest clothing and climbed Mt. Sinai. The rest of us retreated exhausted into our freezing cold beds, just glad to be off the boat. I felt so crook and just couldn't understand how the others managed to do the strenuous hike up the mountain after that boat ride.

We got up mid to late morning to meet the brave guys on their decent. They all looked very cold and exhausted and they confirmed it had been a tough hike. Some wished they had stayed with us, but in the long term I am sure they went really.

We got the public bus back to Cairo for one more free day from where us seven Top Deck peeps said our farewells to the other guys and flew to Karachi with a 45 minute stopover in Dubai. Then we took the onward short flight to Lahore to meet up with the Top Deck bus. However, when we finally made it to our hotel we got a message to say that Top Deck had been held up in Iran and were a day or so behind schedule so we should chill out and catch up on laundry and sleep until they arrive.

After a well deserved lie in we hit the streets using the local method of transport - a tuk tuk - a motorbike, well a moped to be more precise, with a metal canopy - not quite up to motorway driving standards, but it was a welcome mode of transport. They do make rather a lot of noise, but are quite nippy around town, are a lot of fun and cheap to boot. Everyone for themselves, and if there was a slight chance to overtake, they took it, even if there was just ½ inch to spare - breath in, shut your eyes and hope! The drivers just grinned - it was a huge kick for them to drive us nervous lot around. Then the local networking service got the message to us, as the only Westerners in town, that the Top Deck bus had been spotted trying to fight its way through the traffic, so we raced over to the hotel where we were reunited with the guys and exchanged stories of our adventures over the past couple of weeks.

Due to the delayed arrival of the bus, we had some time to make up so we set off at some ungodly hour in the direction of the gun city of Peshawar. We drove through many market towns and were of course the talk of the town. People came up to our vehicle, placed their foreheads on the windows and covered the sides of their heads with their hands to cut out the bright sunshine. They peered into the alien transport so intensely that their face and noses were pressed flat against the windows to see what we were about. I felt like an animal at the zoo, most amusing.

We got talking to a couple of locals at one village who looked a cross between drug barons and members of the Taliban. When we asked what they did for a living they calmly and proudly announced:

"My job? I am a professional killer."

They then insisted that we had our photo taken with them. They were armed so:

"Photo, sure, where would you like me to stand?"

Thankfully, they were all very friendly to us. They showed us some houses belonging to smugglers and the local hash stores, recognisable by the goat skins hanging from their shop doors. We were invited to visit the local school where the children welcomed us very excitedly. I sat with some of the children during an English class and one boy asked if he could read some English text from his book to me. Well of course, what fun I thought. So we sat next to each other with the book carefully balanced on both of our laps and he raced through the text. I got the impression that he wasn't actually reading the text from the book, but repeating words that had been drummed into him. It was all I could do not to gasp at what he was reading out. The children are systematically drilled to hate the West and everything it stands for, and 'school books' are the tool. Frightening. Worrying. Smile and wave, and leave. Behind the bike shed equivalent of the school we found a group of boys smoking hash, only to be joined by a few of our group who should have known better!

Our local guide arranged a surprise diversion into the wilderness and drove us out to some mountains where we received a machine gun shooting lesson, yes you read correctly. We took turns: ready, aim, fire! I pressed the trigger once and used up a whole round of ammunition in a millisecond. I think I hit a goat and took a chunk out of the mountain behind it, otherwise no serious damage! I was wearing my drop dead gorgeous trousers from Turkey which have an interesting saggy bottom, looks like a hanging nappy - all very fetching. But I guess if you are holding the gun, nobody notices what fashion statement you are making!

A photo stop with an armed security man at the Kyber Pass was followed by a visit to Darra which is just full of gun and ammunition shops, everything a gun owner could desire from gunpowder to gold coloured bullets and more. The shopkeepers insisted I pose for a photo holding the biggest gun in the city - a Kalashnikov! I can hardly spell it let alone lift it! Three men helped lift it on to my shoulder, I smiled briefly for the camera and then they quickly took it off me. Just to add a little atmosphere there was the constant sound of gun shots in the background, which was more than a little scary. Well one does have to try out one's gun before one purchases it, doesn't one?

Craving for more culture six of us took up an invitation to visit an Afghan family who shared just one small room of a house - and there were 10 of them. They were so welcoming and smiling. They were fascinated by my mop of hair and insisted on playing with it and tried to put it into pig tails. They asked me for a rubber band to secure the pig tails, but as I didn't have any one of the girls suddenly ripped a piece of material from her dress to make a ribbon for me. Very touching, but I felt bad as it obviously ruined her dress. Got to do the maternal bit and held the newest member of the family, and ever maternal, I handed it straight back to mum!

Driving out of Pakistan and on our way to India I was on cook duty and decided a curry would be appropriate. I slightly overdid it on the rice to put it mildly - well saves cooking it tomorrow doesn't it - it's called planning ahead!

It took us a while to get out of Pakistan and we didn't reach the border of India until just before midday. The customs guys, dressed in his smart uniform and pristine turban insisted that Johnno drive himself and the bus over the border and wait for us to come through one by one. Once he and Lemming were across the line, they came over to us so we thought we would be through in no time. Wrong! They just wanted to let us know that they were off for lunch. Lunch? They were gone for 4 hours!! So in the blistering heat, without food, water or sunscreen and homeless we all waved to Johnno who was officially in India and we, well we were officially not! When the officials finally returned from their long lunch, they slowly and bureaucratically let us through to rejoin Lemming. There was then a mad rush to get a small bag packed as we were due to be off the bus for 4 nights to stay in the houseboats in Shrinigar. I wasn't overly thrilled about the drive as it was to be by public transport and the drivers in India drive like crazy as they place no value on human life, theirs or anybody else's!

The drive was very scenic, but the road was a dangerous cocktail of 's' bends, 'u' bends, sheer drops and blind corners, all of which were taken with the gas pedal flat to the floor as the driver just wanted to get form a to b as quickly as possible. All we could do was wait and see if we were to make it in one piece. As we were going through this death defying experience I could not help remembering that we had been given the option to fly by local airline - hummm, falling down a cliff or falling out of the sky, what a choice!

The taxis were on strike so when we arrived into Shringar we had to walk the 30 mins in the freezing cold and take the pirogue (local word for a canoe, but it was basically a shallow dug out tree trunk which looked like it would sink at the slightest weight let alone us heavy lot) to our home for the next few nights. All the houseboats had names - ours was 'Queen of Mountains' which I got to share with Ruth, Alison, Brad and George. Inside was a pleasant surprise, really cosy. A stove fire was burning away giving out terrific heat which was a most welcome contrast to the temperature outside. The house was carpeted and there were real beds. The bathroom was basic, but adequate. We had two men to look after our every need - Jabb and Mirage. No sooner had we arrived dinner was served followed by copious amounts of vodka and hubbly bubbly. Jabb and Mirage brought us hot water bottles which we caressed close to our bodies with one hand, whilst we held our endless cup of vodka in the other and we got dancing to music from our various walkmans. George, Ruth and I huddled together on a double bed for warmth.

There was no agenda for the next three days. We were free to do as much or as little as we wanted. The first task of the day was to try and keep the continual flow of salesmen from out door. They just 'drove' up to our door on their pirogues trying to sell us anything and everything. It was all very entertaining though. After so much retail therapy we just wanted more so took a boat trip around the lake visit the papier-mâché and wood shops. Then all that was left to do was to go in search of cappuccino, which we were promised was available directly opposite our houseboat, a pirogue ride away. Guess where I spent the next couple of days?

For a change, we decided to get off the houseboat and take the opportunity to learn to ski at a nearby 'resort' at bargain price, only to be told when we got there that there wasn't enough snow! So we went pony trekking taking in the spectacular views of the Kashmir Valley where my Sunlight Rapide glasses finally turned black it was so bright! In the evening we had a foot tracing session whereby feet were put in people's diaries and a pen or pencil used to trace around it - obviously too much vodka had been drunk!

A planned lazy day turned into a busy schedule. We wandered around the local bazaar for a couple of hours and then in the afternoon took a pirogue around the old city and honey making shop on Lake Dal, all followed by another 'quiet' night in.

Up early to maximise the daylight hours for our dangerous decent which seemed more beautiful than on the way up if that was possible, mainly due to the spectacular view of the River Indus. We were constantly reminded of the potential danger we were in as we saw the tangled pieces of metal cars and buses strewn down the mountains. We arrived in Jammu in one piece early evening, relieved.

Next day was even more driving this time to New Dehli. The first thing to hit you is the number of people. There were just thousands of them everywhere. Where did they all come from? Outside our campsite were lots of rickshaw drivers so what better way to go into the city than in a rickshaw? We saw the Red Fort, the Parliament Building, more mosques and the President's house, Indiri Ghandi's house and the place where she was assassinated, mosques, Mohatama Ghandi museum and finally his burial place marked with a big black slab of marble.

11 kms from Jaipur we took an elephant ride up the steep slope to the Amber Temple. Riding on a colourfully painted elephant was a bit wobbly, but great fun. The temple was lit by candlelight and the mirrored walls and ceilings gave the illusion of stars. We walked back down the hill and bought some nuts which were intended for us, but the monkeys had other ideas and leapt all over us until we surrendered much to the amusement of the local people.

After a stop at Fatehpur Sikri Palace I finally got to see what I had marked down as the highlight of the tour for me - the Taj Mahal - the ultimate sign of true love, a man's true dedication of love for his wife. Near the Taj we hitched a lift with a rickshaw who negotiated his way to the Taj Mahal through 2.5 km of traffic. We arrived just in time for sunset and sat for 2 hours watching the colour of the building change as the light diminished.

I just stood there in total awe of the building and absorbing the atmosphere. I could not stop taking photos because with every minute that passed the building looked different. We went inside to see the actual tombs. From here you can appreciate how geometrically perfect the whole building is. Arjumand's coffin was built in the middle of the floor as Shah Jahan was due to be buried elsewhere. The marble is inlaid with semi precious stones - rubies, emeralds, mother of pearl etc. made into the shapes of flowers. When a torch light is held against the flowers and moved upwards there is the illusion that the flowers come to life and open out - just for the tourists you understand! Back at the ranch had a full body massage for 20 rupees!

Up before dawn to make sure we got to the Taj in the dark, well before the sunrise which we were promised would give even more varieties of colour on the building than the sunset - great even more film! The gates opened at 06:00 and there was an air of peace and tranquillity as we were the first to arrive before the hoards of other tourists. We all sat on the steps to leave the pathway clear for superb uninterrupted photos. The star studded sky was slowly replaced by dawn, daylight and a stunning sunrise. I could have stayed there for days. As we left I kept turning back to get yet another 'final' glance until it was out of sight. It has to go down as my all time favourite monument.

So what do you do after such a day well you stop off at Khajuraho Erotic temples and celebrate Christmas! Yes as the trip ends before Christmas, we decided to bring the big day forward. We all woke up to a bar of chocolate under our pillows and then faced a long drive to our campsite near a river. We all decided to venture in to the freezing waters for a bath and freshen up before the mammoth task of Christmas dinner. Secret Santa had made sure that presents had been taken care of (all our names were put in a hat and each person has to pick out a name and on an agreed budget buy a gift to reflect the personality of that person).

Beer in hand, dressed in a red tracksuit and bearded with the entire cotton wool contents from the medical kit, Steve played the part very well. One by one we sat on Santa's knee got a 'ho-ho-ho' and received and opened our presents in front of everyone. As I said, the presents were meant to say something about the recipient and varied from chocolate for the chocoholic, a pen for the conscientious writer, a whip (!?) make up your own stories, underpants (!?) and make up some more stories and anti diarrhoea pills for me the constipated one, the only one!

With varying degrees of hangovers we took the 10 hour drive to Varanasi which was followed the next morning by a 05:00 start, this time to catch the boat for a trip down the Ganges to see the temples and Ghats and see what the locals get up to at this time of day and see the sunrise. The Ganges is holy water for the people of India and in spite of its unhygienic state they do just about everything in it. They bathe, pray, give offerings, wash their clothes, wash their cattle and burn their dead in it. On the banks of the river there is also a lot of activity, mainly meditation and exercising. We then got to see a demonstration of silk weaving. The people here are incredibly poor, all they have is their religion and family, but there are endless genuine smiles. In the afternoon at the campsite we had entertainment in the form of a monkey show and a snake charmer. As if that wasn't enough he showed us scorpions and his piece de la resistance was a mongoose, which he made attack the snake. All too blood thirsty for me so I left.

We cleared Indian and Nepalese customs without too much trouble and continued driving towards Nepal and finally caught our first glimpse of the Himalayan mountains. We reached 'Uncles" our home for the next couple of nights so we could visit Chitwan National Park.

A local bus took us to Chitwan National Park from where we took a dodgy boat ride across the river to our 4WD. How we didn't capsize I'll never know. The lip of the dug out canoe was level with the water and the slightest movement from us in the boat caused water to come into the boat. After a 4 hour drive in the 4WD we got to see absolutely ZERO, zilch, nothing! What a waste of time and money after promises of seeing prolific wildlife. The joy of nature - never in when you want it to be!

The next day was spent packing and cleaning the bus in anticipation of arriving in Kathmandu the next day ready to celebrate Christmas.

The bus was very quiet as we drove the 7 hours to Kathmandu. There were mixed feelings of joy and sadness. Joy at making such an epic trip of a lifetime and reaching one of the adventurous destinations in the world, Kathmandu, and sadness at the farewells that were imminent as people would be leaving the group almost immediately. So after hot showers, a cappuccino in the Old Vienna Inn restaurant we went for a group meal followed by several more drinks at the SPAMS bar (Society for Promoting Alcohol Misuse.)

The next couple of days were free to collect post restante, go to the bank for more funds, do laundry and clean up. Oh yes, and fit in a city tour including the Monkey Temple, Durbur Square and Ghaktapur, a medieval village. Several of us who were staying longer in Kathmandu organized a local trekking tour for one week.

Start us you mean to go on, up at the crack of dawn to meet our trekking guide and to drive to Pokhora. We arrived mid-afternoon to watch our sherpas pack huge baskets full of all the camping equipment we would be needing over the next week, including tents, cooking equipment, food and water.. They then lifted the baskets on to their backs and placed a white canvas type strap attached to the basket across their forehead to take the strain of the weight. The strength that must be need in the neck is unimaginable. We set off looking all very professional with our (small) rucksacks and looks of grit and determination ready to conquer whatever lay ahead. We had been told that we had chosen the easiest of all the treks available (well none of us were strong hikers and had insisted on an easy trek), but even we were surprised when after a grand total of 30 minutes trekking we were told 'home for the night'. Within moments of arrival, out of nowhere appeared a group of smiling, running happy children welcoming us to their field. They were obviously used to tourists crashing on their land on a regular basis. The sherpas did absolutely everything for us - they pitched our tents, cooked and served us our dinner and cleared away. The daylight disappeared fairly early and the temperature dropped like a stone, so they sent us off to bed with a bowl of hot water for washing. We were all tucked up in bed by 20:30!

Early nights as we were to find out pretty quickly were necessary due to the mega early mornings! Just as the sun disappears early in the evenings, she rises pretty early too! Our wake up call entailed the sherpas knocking on our 'room' door with a bowl of steaming hot water for washing and a cup of welcomed coffee to warm us up. After breakfast and break down of camp, all of which was done for us, we set off on a tough two hour trek which took us through a couple of local villages. We were greeted constantly with smiles, waves and 'namaste' and clasped hand gesture. The afternoon was also tough, but mainly downhill. The number of hours trekking per day wasn't that much; it was just the combination of the difficulty of the hike and the cold. We were told to follow a certain route until we reached the orange tarpaulin which was basically what we sat on for meals and to rest and was therefore our sign for a camp stop for lunch or the night. It became our most favourite thing to see! The sherpas would always go ahead of us, taking the most direct route irrespective of how vertical it was in order to arrive at the next stop as early as possible. In the meantime, we took the easier climb. All we did on arrival was collapse, compare notes about pains and sprains, eat, drink and retire. These guys had to do the (more difficult) trek and work on arrival.

Having survived the first full day, we were in to some sort of routine. Just as I thought things couldn't get any worse we hit a sign for Silikis and a suspension bridge made out of what I can only describe as string and a few planks of wood (un)secured with the odd nail or two hovering by a thread over a freezing fast flowing river. The sherpas found it most entertaining that I was more than terrified and promptly leapt across the bridge weighed down with their baskets of our stuff. This of course made the bridge swing from side to side not exactly inducing confidence in me. I feebly put one foot in front of the other looking drop dead gorgeous in my thick woolly jumper purchased on the houseboats and my fetching hat. As if that wasn't a candidate for 'wimp of the trip' award after lunch I got stuck crossing the river. The rocks which were supposed to assist my crossing were very slippery and I lost my nerve. George who was already ahead turned around and saw my predicament and like a true hero returned to rescue me. I clung on to him for dear life so much so that I lost my balance and I pushed him, together with his very expensive camera into the fast flowing freezing river water. He took it very well. I felt such a fool.

Well we had been warned about our 3.5 hour vertical climb to reach our viewpoint at 9,000 feet and the promise of spectacular views. No oxygen was forthcoming although it felt like it was needed - our very own mini Everest, I think I'll pass on ascending the real thing! Step after endless steep, climbing higher and higher, not helped by the fact that there was a lot of loose rock and gravel. The blistering heat of the sun didn't help either. It is amazing how hot it is during the day and how cold at night. Eventually we all made it to the top and collapsed without even noticing the view. As we regained our composure we could then stand and admire the view. The sun decided it was time to go to sleep and the temperature dropped like a stone, which combined with our now stationary exhausted sweaty bodies made us feel suddenly very cold. So we put on some extra clothing and started to make our way back to the last camp which of course meant negotiating my favourite bridge again! This time we stopped off in the village of Silikis itself where we got to see spinning, weaving and bread making. The smiles on the people's faces are the broadest I have ever seen in spite of the appalling conditions they live in. We were all absolutely exhausted and all that spurred us on was the thought of a hot meal and copious amounts of alcohol to soothe away our aches and pains. I got up in the middle of the night to be greeted with a sky bursting with stars, and the moon lighting up the surrounding snow capped mountains. Wow! Thank goodness I have a weak bladder, the others missed out.

The promise of an easy day didn't materialise! Their idea of easy and mine obviously differ. Still, compared to yesterday I guess it was 'easier'. It was more of a jungle trek where we got to see some black faced monkeys. At this point, maybe due to lack of oxygen getting to their brains, the men on our trek took the opportunity to do their Tarzan impressions swinging from the obliging vines. They really did fit in to the surroundings! After a short lunch stop by a picturesque river we started our true descent - mine was mainly on my bum! We made camp for the night and it was freezing to the point where George's boots froze INSIDE the tent!!

Our wake up bowl of water and coffee wasn't so inviting this morning, because by the time the poor sherpa had run from the piping hot kettle on the fire to our tent door, both were stone cold! A long hard morning of trekking was had before stopping for lunch. It didn't feel like we were making much impact on our decent back home! The afternoon brought bad weather and snow, so we decided to call it a day and made camp.

A nice gentle walk and yet another great lunch spot by a river brought us to our taxi about 10 km out of Pokhara which took us to our campsite of sorts. Well it was more a piece of tarmac with gravel, haystacks and a sort of toilet. We were immediately surrounded by bulls, chickens and screaming inquisitive children. Our familiar orange ground sheet awaited us and we all just collapsed on it. The children though made sure we were not going to get any rest. They watched our every move as we slowly got our act together and listened to music and wrote our diaries. The children obviously hadn't seen a walkman before and I let one of the boys hold the earpiece and told him to put it in his ear like I had. The expression on his little innocent face when he got the music was a picture. He took a double take by removing the earpiece from his ear and putting it back in again, just to check that it was for real. His whole face lit up as he then explained it all to his friends, who just looked at him in total disbelief. The mother was nearby and saw all the activity and she was smiling from ear to ear. She was holding what looked like a bundle of rags, but as she approached me sitting cross-legged entertaining her son with my walkman, she passed the 'rags' to me - a baby no less. So I did the maternal thing and rocked the baby in my arms and had the obligatory photo taken. Really cute, but a relief to give him back!! Dinner was excellent as usual, but the chef surpassed himself that night. He said that he had enjoyed us as a group so much that he baked us a cake (on an open fire I might add) in our honour. I'm sure he says that to all the girls! He had 'piped' I guess with some spoons or sticks of wood, not sure, "HAPPY NICE TREK" in a circle around the edge of the cake in marmalade! I picked it up to bring it closer to me to play mum and cut a piece for everyone. Light and fluffy weren't the words to describe it, more like a brick, but the effort that had gone into it was very touching.

Well an easy walk was promised, and finally an easy walk it was. All of 200 yards to our bus to drive us back to Kathmandu.

The time between the trek and the next trip was Christmas and was to be spent recuperating from the trek and celebrating. I did the dutiful daughter thing and phoned home only to be told that Neil (my boyfriend who I had left behind), had disappeared along with the money he got from selling my almost new Ford Fiesta which was due to finance my travels for the next year. Mum wouldn't even come to the phone she is so upset with me. How could I have been so stupid? All the letters from Neil saying how much he loved me, even the one I got at the hotel today. He must have planned this all along. How didn't I see through it? Tom and Jerry's opened at 5 and I did the adult thing and dragged Ruth along with me and downed 4 double gin and tonics in 20 minutes. George turned up and seeing something was up ask what was wrong. I told him I needed a hug and Ruth explained what had happened. I had a couple more drinks and, as I wasn't used to hard alcohol, promptly threw up all over the bar. George as cool as ever, carried me back to the hotel, put me to bed and kept an eye on me.

Christmas Day - might as well try and enjoy it as dinner was already planned and paid for and I can't do anything about my situation right now. Then we went on a pub crawl via rickshaw in search of Baileys, about the only drink they didn't have at the Tuchee Peak hotel. We started off at the 5 star Annupurna hotel with a white lady. Then George said he wanted to buy me a bottle of champagne as a Christmas pressie, how sweet! The waiter came up with the bottle of champagne and two chilled glasses. He went to open the champagne and suddenly the cork was in his hand. The absence of the champagne 'pop' was a little more than obvious. I pointed this out to George and said that I thought the champagne was flat. He asked me not to complain he was sure it was okay. So giving the waiter the benefit of the doubt I tasted the champagne and sure enough it was flat, very flat. I took it over to the waiter and asked for a different bottle. Blushing he apologized and returned with a new bottle which did go pop big time. As I looked over to the waiter wanting to indicate that everything was now okay so he didn't feel bad or embarrassed, I caught him in full view of everyone forcing the cork back into the champagne bottle I had just returned!! Obviously we were not the first couple to return that particular bottle and I guessed we wouldn't be the last. We just smiled.

The following day we tried to take a small plane ride over Everest at Nargakot, but it got cancelled just before we were called for boarding. This often happens apparently as the weather changes so suddenly and unexpectedly.

Finally time to say goodbye to the few peeps that were still in Kathmandu. Seven of us from the original group were now doing a 5 ½ week under the umbrella of Top Deck, but by public transport from Kathmandu - Bali. We were on our way to Burma to meet up with the other 20 passengers. George and Eric have said they will look us up at some point as they are doing a similar route, but independently.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/kathmandu-oz/1188389700/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/kathmandu-oz/1188389700/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pinkkaz/kathmandu-oz/1188389700/tpod.html Thu, 20 Sep 2007 10:31:03 -0400 Public transport from Kathmandu to Bali and then on to Oz for some free travel Sydney to Cairns.

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Kathmandu, Nepal

We met up with the others and had a pre departure meeting before boarding our plane to Rangoon. It was made clear to us that this week would be under the total control of the Government owned tourist board, with a Russian tour guide, boy was she scary! Johnnie Walker and 555 cigarettes are a must to make a fast buck, but I didn't want to take the risk. US dollars cash were going to be worth 7 times more on the black market anyway, that was risky enough for me. We checked into the Strand Hotel, apparently the best hotel in Burma in 1945, well yes maybe it was then, but a lick of paint wouldn't go amiss let alone some non brown shower and bath water please!! Turns out Jo, one of the lady passengers isn't here for a vacation at all, but to marry a rickshaw driver she met here three years ago! Who said romance is dead?! So there we were in Rangoon, capital and gateway of Burma, now called Myanmar in an attempt to try and change its bad image.

The first stop with our guide was the 70ft reclining Buddha Chauk Hati Gyi. The statue is so big that it didn't matter where I stood or how far away from it I was I couldn't fit it into one photo. The eyes sort of follow you around the room which was very eerie, but he seemed quite a cheerful chap. Then to the 2,500 year old Shwedagon pagoda, in Yangon, a wonder of the world. It houses the eight sacred strands of hair of Buddha. This spectacular pagoda apparently at the time had just under 2000 kgs of gold covering it and is revered by all Buddhists. Around the main pagoda are several other places of prayer and worship. There is a Buddha for each of the 8 days of the week and you worship the Buddha which represents your day of birth by pouring water over it, thereby asking him for his help and direction. Families come here to relax, picnic and meditate. We also saw the hollow Pagoda Botataung and the Bogyoke Market. The uncomfortable overnight train took us to Tazi. No sleepers were available so we had to sit the entire time in seats with no suspension. We arrived in Taxi early next morning to be met by another government guide.

A 1 ½ hour bus drive got us to Pagan overlooking the Irrawaddy River. The afternoon was spent looking at even more pagodas and monasteries which are strewn over an area of 42 kms and date from the 11-13th centuries. We saw Ananda Temple, Gawdawpalin Temple, Shwenandaw Monastery, Thatbyinnyu Temple and Nyaung-oo village. Not sure which one, but one of the temples houses the Hope Diamond and one Buddha had a party trick - when you walked around him the straight impression on his face transformed into a smile! We took some much needed exercise and climbed part the way up the hill to get a wondrous panoramic view of Pegan. Only from here could we truly appreciate the number of pagodas.

On the first day of 1990 Ruth and I wandered around Pegan to take in the atmosphere and were invited by a family to join them for lunch. We tried to decline as they themselves had so little, but it is really rude not to accept hospitality. Their culture believes in sharing what they have with others, irrespective how little that might be. It's very humbling. We sat down at their simple outside table arrangement, covered by a straw roof. The delicious meal of chick peas and rice was served on a banana leaf and they showed us how to politely eat using her hands - well after all hands were invented before cutlery weren't they? More photos of Kaz holding the baby. All too soon it was back to the hotel to organize the departure to Mandalay. Due to the troubles in Burma during the time we were there a curfew in place which meant everyone had to be indoors by 10 p.m. or face being shot by the police, no questions asked. Seriously.

In Mandalay we visited the Gold leaf Mahamumi Pagoda, where we were not allowed to take photos of the Buddha, but were intrigued to watch the masses of people go up to the statue and 'stick' small squares of gold leaf on him, which means he grows at quite a rate per day! Pure gold! The Kuthadow Pagoda was next. Built by King Mindon in 1857, it is surrounded by 729 upright marble slabs on which the entire Buddhist scripture Tripitka is inscribed. It is known as the world's largest book. We then drove to the base of Mandalay Hill before climbing the well designed enclosure of steps to the top for stunning views. The afternoon was spent on a boat ride down the Irrawaddy River to the remote village of Mingon which is famous for the failed attempt to make the world's largest pagoda. It has also sustained large cracks due to earthquakes and is the proud owner of the world's largest uncracked bell. The children there just loved us, grabbed our hands and didn't let us go the whole time we were there. I had four children glued to me! When we got back to our hotel we got the news that Jo was a married woman and we are all invited to a party the next day.

We boarded the back of some local trucks to take the scenic drive up to the British hilltop retreat of Maymyo. This is where the Brits used to retreat from the summer heat and drink tea and gin and tonics! The black market here is major business and Maymyo is the best place to exchange any western goods for Burmese souvenirs, which means anything from tat in the form of car stickers to t-shirts, jeans, hats and badges. After what seemed like hours of negotiations, I was the proud owner of a huge tapestry with the Burmese and Western horoscopes on it, two Burmese puppets, a smaller elephant tapestry and a papier-mâché vase in exchange for a teddy bear sweatshirt, my baseball cap and $45 which I thought was a bargain. However, you have to remember that if he changes $45 on the black market he will get 6-7 times the rate of exchange for his currency versus what he'd get at the bank, so I guess he was just a little bit happy!! Loaded down with goodies, what better way to return home than by stage coach? The local equivalent of Pretty Woman shopping on Rodeo Drive and getting a chauffeur driven car home with her many designer shopping bags and hat boxes! Just before finding our way back though, we just had to bring a little decorum to the day so we stopped for a spot of afternoon tea and scones at the Canda Crai hilltop hotel. Krista took one look at Ruth and I and said we looked like something out of the British Raj what with all our purchases and our newly acquired fetching sun straw hats drinking tea with our little fingers curled up!

We returned to our hotel with just enough time to spruce up for the wedding celebrations which took place in a Chinese restaurant nearby. Every day our regular rickshaw/student drivers would be waiting for us outside our hotel ready to drive us wherever we wanted, irrespective of how close or far away it might be. They refused to take any payment for driving us around. They just wanted to make sure we stayed safe and got back to the hotel before the crucial 10 p.m. deadline. They also wanted to practice their English and chat.

Another dreadful 15 hour train journey back to Rangoon. Again there was no food to be had on board so we watched and learned from the locals. Whenever the train made a scheduled stop at a station or an unscheduled stop at another station or otherwise, local traders would rush up to the windows selling everything from Heineken beer well passed the 'best by' sell date to sparrow on a stick wrapped in a banana leaf. Nobody dared get off the train for fear of it leaving without warning. There is no such thing as a timetable - the train left when it felt like it, stopped where and when it liked for as long as it liked and arrived at its destination when it got there, simple as that. Why make it more complicated?

After a fantastic time in Burma we set off with the intention of flying to Bangkok with one additional passenger, Jo's new husband. However, the authorities wouldn't let him out of the country saying that his exit paperwork and Australian visa had been 'lost' in a fire so he had to stay and re-apply. Jo who couldn't stay behind as her visa for Burma had now expired, was understandably beside herself. We never did get to find out if there was a happy end.

Back at the hotel who should be waiting for us but George and Eric. So what do you do when in Bangkok, well apart from visit the Grand Palace there's always the joy of the Thai sex show, followed by shop 'til you drop in the night markets selling reproduction designer gear - Cartier, Chanel (sometimes Channel - so as to make for a genuine fake!) and so on.

More farewells to George and another overnight sleeper train to Chiang Mai. Not exactly Egyptian standard as the 'sleeper' was basically an open bunk bed in the aisles, and we had some stowaways - ants and cockroaches 'that big'. Most entertaining was Jenny's twin banana - two bananas joined lengthways in one skin. Most couldn't sleep coz of the damn cockroaches - bang, biff, die! They just don't!

After what seemed like the longest night we finally arrived and checked into our lodgings. Today was a free day to wander around the town and markets and prepare for the trek tomorrow.

Fit and raring to go we got up bright and early to meet up with our two guides Kay and Crazy Joe, or CJ for short. We soon got to know why he is so named. He dressed outrageously and wore mirror shades to make him look that extra bit cool, and failed! He stood in the middle of the road with a long stick and pretended it was a microphone as he explained what was planned for the next couple of days - obviously he has seen too many 50s films or people in bedrooms using hairbrushes.

The first morning's trek was described as moderately difficult, but I needed a lot of assistance from Dobie, our Top Deck leader. Lunch was followed by a refreshing dunk in some hot springs before marching on towards Caron Village. Our accommodation comprised of huts with bedding of palm leaves, rustic, but cold!!

Day two turned out to be a day I will never forget for as long as I live. A nice leisurely start as we strolled 20 minutes to meet our elephants for a 2 hour elephant trek. We did so look the part with our hats from Burma, very Meryl Streep or who was that actress in Out of Africa? We were (not very) elegantly assisted on to the 'seats' of the elephant - boy was it high up there. I won't hide the fact that I was quite relieved to get off, but if I had known what was to come, I would have opted to spend the rest of the day on the back of the elephant, or anywhere else for that matter!

The next part of adventure was described as a gentle drift down the river for a few hours to our huts where we would have a BBQ party. What could be so bad about that I hear you ask? Well the drift down the river was not on a boat, oh no, that would be far too 'normal', but on a bamboo raft. What on earth is that you ask? Well as in the words of the famous advert "It does what it says on the tin". The raft consisted of several bamboo poles tied together with some grass like looking sort of stuff made into a rope. Deciding which of the many rafts looked the most 'seaworthy' (or the least dangerous to put it more correctly) took the group the best part of an hour - decisions, decisions.

And there're off! With 6 or so people to a raft, the first raft set off on its voyage proudly showing us all how it was done and they had a boring and uneventful time leaving us way behind. So much for sticking together and forming a convoy.

The second raft started off well, but brimming with over confidence they made a few manoeuvring errors and on one occasion they managed to capsize the vessel and they all ended up in the water. Laugh? We cried! Their raft came with an 'optional extra' equivalent to air conditioning - the water came up over the top of the bamboo poles (or to put it another they were sinking!) and covered their ankles, nice and cooling.

The whole idea of the raft was that we should have been able to sit down and enjoy the ride, but instead of sitting on dry bamboo, the poles were completely submerged, especially our raft, which was half way to the bottom of the river before we left the bank so standing room only! However, we, being raft 3 at the back, could watch the other two and learn from their mistakes and receive due warning of obstacles they might hit en route, so we could 'drive' around them. Well that was the theory at least and as we all know theory always wins.

We had two initial crashes: the first was minor, but the second almost caused us to capsize, but our wonderful 'driver' managed to regain control and composure and kept us safe and dry. However, our celebrations were short lived. As time marched on so did the other two rafts and we lost sight of them. We tried to negotiate a tight bend, only to hear an almighty crash which brought us to a sudden and complete stop and water started gushing so hard and fast we couldn't see the raft anymore. Oh God I think we are going to die! It turned out that we had hit a shipwrecked bamboo raft which caused us to permanently lodge ourselves on a big rock in the middle of the river, or better said, in the middle of a weir no less! Well if you are going to crash, do it in style!

By this time we were well behind schedule (and the others), tired, hungry and scared, and to cap it all, it was starting to get dark. We were a long way from our destination all the food and cooking equipment was with raft 1 and nobody knew we were in difficulty. We decided that we had no choice but to abandon ship. The water was running very, very fast, so much so that we had to form a human chain to help each other across the river. This was serious. How we didn't lose someone, I have no idea.

Before we knew it, nightfall was upon us and we trekked for 2 hours without flashlights in the dark, trying to find a route to lead us to the camp. Our only option was to negotiate the top of the steep, narrow, slippery river bank. Remember, this was meant to be an afternoon trip, so we only had the shorts and t-shirt we started out in.
Our spirits lifted when we spotted an orange glow coming from a camp fire and we realized that we were nearly home. We started shouting out into the darkness and eventually the shouts came back and got closer and closer until eventually we were met by our intoxicated fellow PAX who had revived themselves and brought warmth back to their bodies by copious amounts of alcohol. We had been missing so long that they had come up with a group song for the occasion and greeted us with a rendition of Bobby Brown's "Na na na na na feel good, feel fine do do do do! Oh". What an experience. Don't need to do that again thanks. It wasn't until the next day when I saw the terrain we had crossed the night before and the sheer drops and ledges we had negotiated, that I realized how dangerous it had all been.
Well there were more than a few sore heads the next morning due to the slight over indulgence, but with justification I feel after all, some of us were lucky to be alive!! A three hour trek took us through a couple of villages, the first of which was full of tourists, but the second was less visited. The women in this village had red and black teeth and wore silver and material hats with coins sewn into them.

A bumpy drive took us back to Chiang Mai. After a thank you meal with Jay and CJ most retired exhausted, but Ruth and I decided we need to enjoy life after our near death experience and went out and bopped the night away to an excellent band playing everything from Deep Purple, to Dire Straights to Eric Clapton.

More culture the next day with a visit to another pagoda Doi Suthep Temple- the most famous in Thailand.

The overnight bus took us to Bangkok and the next day we did the obligatory tour of the Golden Temple Palace, the golden Buddha Wat Tramit, Wat Po temple and its famous reclining Buddha and Wat Tramit, which holds in one of its chapels the famous Golden Buddha.

I decided to have my fortune told by a Thai fortune teller, figuring it couldn't hurt with the mess my life was in at the time. The first thing he said to me was I liked to travel - no kidding Sherlock! To summarize the rest of his predictions he said that I would be married by 29, have 2 children by 35 that I should study more and then I would be rich by 29. So here I am today at forty something, single, childless and broke - but I did do my BA (Hons) degree, so there you go!

Three of us decided to leave the others for the day and took the journey out to see the Bridge over the River Kwai. What an eventful trip it was. A tuk tuk drove us to the bus station where we were told we were on the wrong side of town as the bus we needed was at the bus station the other side of town! So we took another tuk tuk to the other bus station 16 kms the other side of town and boarded our bus. And relax......well just for 10 short minutes as there was an almighty bang as the bus careered into a lorry at an intersection where he didn't have right of way and we ground to an stop. A replacement bus was sent, but by the time it got to us was already full. So we decided to walk as by all accounts it wasn't that far away. Wrong! Two hours later in the blistering heat we arrived at the allied war cemetery, the Japanese war cemetery, the Allied War Cemetery and then finally walked to the bridge itself. Well worth the struggle to get there.

We returned to the group and drove to Phuket where George was waiting. We hired a motor bike to search for the Statue of Heroines and found a waterfall, well more a trickle than a fall. The next day we took another bike trip this time to Kata Beach and later found a view point from where we could see Kata, Kharan and Patong beaches.

We crossed into Malaysia and took a minibus to our ferry to Hadyai, Penang Island. We took in a few sights by doing the walking tour of Georgetown, Penang including Sri Meniman mosque, Captain Klina mosque, Chinese Klan house, Kou Kongs whose roof was buried and then replaced less modestly, a Chinese Temple to the Goddess of Mercy and ended up at Fort Cornwallis and Penang museum.

Before we left for the 1 hour drive to Tapah we visited St. George's church and then indulged in some gold jewellery shopping. Our drive took us across the Penang bridge (from Penang Island to dry land) from where we took a two hour taxi drive through the Cameron Highlands to the hilltop resort of Tanah Rata. In the fields there were many tea plantation workers picking tea leaves and placing them in huge baskets strapped to their backs. They were dressed in cotton robes and wore straw hats to protect them from the vicious sun. A good tea picker picks 100 kg a day. That's a lot of tea! Later we got to see how they process the leaves in to tea at the Boh Tea Plantation tour. We were shown how the leaves are dried for 18 hours before being transferred to be cut up into small pieces and dried out again. The leaves are then 'dry heated' on a conveyor belt for 20 mins before being sieved in the various tea varieties. The award for the most impressive part of the process though had to go to the fastest fingers in Asia. In the 'packing kitchen' the packers, mainly women, made a foil container, packed it with tea, banged it on the table to settle the ingredients, sealed it, labelled it and covered it in cellophane. You could hardly see their fingers they moved so quickly. They have to make and fill 1,000 containers per day before they are allowed home, so the faster you work, the quicker you go home. But what a target, 1,000 containers! After the tour we walked 20 minute walk to Robinson's Waterfall before taking some refreshment at Ye Olde Smokehouse, an old Tudor style house.

Yet another bus ride, this time to Malacca for another walking tour. The first stop was the Po San temple. This is where women come when men 'let them down' to get their revenge (not sure how, but sounds like a top idea to me as there a couple of men I can think of who would fit into that category!) On to St. Xavier church, Christ Church, the Old Stadthus, Residence Hill, St. Paul's Church, Porta de Santiago, Bukit China, Dutch Quarter Fort, Sultan's Well and the Old Dutch Square and the new football stadium. Krista and I enjoyed a curry served on a banana leaf. I could get used to this eating off a banana leaf with your fingers, no washing up! Top idea!

We drove to Singapore for a city tour starting off at Fort Canning followed by a walk up a hill for a 'panoramic' view, but the buildings are so tall you can't see the harbour! Then on to see China Town, Clifford Pier, Tiger Balm Island, Raffles Monument, Parliament House, the Meridian Monument which welcomes people to the harbour, the Sultan's Temple and Temple of 1000 lights. Singapore was all very quiet as it was Chinese New Year. After dinner we just walked around the streets absorbing the festive atmosphere. However, due to a government ban there were no fireworks?! Now here's a question for you. How difficult can it be to find a Singapore Sling in Singapore? Well 'very' is the answer. Raffles, the most famous bar in town was shut for renovation, typical, didn't they know we were coming(?), and we got nothing but blank looks when we asked for it everywhere else. Finally we did find someone to make one for us, at a price! We visited Sentosa Island and took monorail to the largest aviary in the world the Juran Bird Park.

We flew to the Indonesian capital Jakarta, with Singapore Airlines, way to go! After a brief stop in the museum we attempted to go up the Merdeka Monument on Merdeka Square for a panoramic view, but few made it due to long queue for the lift and the stairs were closed! So off we went to see the National Mosque followed by a boat ride around the old port area known as Kota Tonn and of course some shopping around the China Town markets. The night train took us to Jogakarta.
We pulled in at 05:30 and caught 40 winks at our new home for the night. Tired, but raring to go, we took a rickshaw ride around the city including the Sultan's Palace, the water temple Pranbahan, and the bird alley with all sorts of horrible sights and smells. The afternoon was spent tasting the local food from the market stalls and the night was spent doing more of the same with a spot of bopping as usual.

A bus ride took us to Borobuor Temple, one of the most famous Buddhist monuments in S E Asia. It is made of stone, not a gold leaf in sight, so it made a nice change and was beautiful in its own right! The Buddha statues are enclosed in blocks for fear of attack. We 'endured' some tourist staged local dancing with a dreadful meal - how I hate being a tourist, I'm a overlander! Feeling a little tired we passed on the tour of the Prambanan Temples, the biggest Hindu Temple complex in Java, shame really, but you just can't do everything.

We set off on the very long drive to Mount Bromo a live Batur volcano. Our hotel was conveniently located at the base of the volcano (!) and we inspected what we had to climb early the next morning. It was very steep with lots of loose stones. Our luxury accommodation consisted of four walls, a bed, a wardrobe and nothing much else. You could touch each wall by standing in the middle of the room with outstretched arms it was that small. The shower was well more of a sink, but only just. So we decided to stay in our own grime and headed for the dining room to stock up on some carbs for the steep climb. Not much sleep was had by anyone as we were all reluctantly waiting for the very early, early wake up call at 03:30 no less and there was a lot of giggling going on for some reason.

Mt. Bromo here we come. With just a horse, a local guide and a flashlight that kept going out, we set off on our ascent. Walking in the darkness brought back all kinds of memories of the rafting incident, but at least this trek had been done in the dark before and we have someone with us who knows the way! We set off at a fast pace, up, up and more up. Eventually we reached the 247 steps to the top followed by a narrow ledge which surrounds of the LIVE volcano. The smell of sulphur was overpowering, but the sight of the gases bubbling was awesome. Apparently the volcano erupts every 30 minutes, but I guess as it is so regular and we were standing at the very place from which the lava would come out, they are more safe gurgles than eruptions! We headed back for a well deserved breakfast before the long drive to Kuta Beach, Bali. The beach was beautiful and we spent a while watching the waves as they came crashing down on the coast. I can watch waves for hours.

Our last night was spent in Lovina and we were treated to Batubulan Gianyar, Barong dancing. The performance included excellent scenes of mythological dance and it was not as tacky as I had feared. We visited the Monkey Tempe which was basically a forest with some monkeys and a temple in it! This was followed by a visit to the Elephant Temple Ubud. I'm not sure if there should have been any elephants there, but I didn't see any!

Lunch was followed by a drive to the Kintamani volcano and Bedugal Temple, Kuta Our hotel was another top room - no working lights, the toilet didn't flush, no aircon/fan and no tap on the 'shower' or a pink (well at least they got something right!) rubber tube as it's also known. The verbal instructions for turning the tube shower on and off included 'bend the tube to prevent water coming out' and 'straighten the tube to get flowing water' - well obvious really isn't it?

The trip leaving party was one to be remembered for a long time. After we had dined on suckling pig (no, I had a salad!) our leader Dobbie was thrown in the pool to remind him of our rafting trip. As he struggled to come to the surface in his sandals, jeans and t-shirt we sang 'feel good na na na na na na' and held our noses and pretended we were sinking under water. He thankfully found it all very amusing too! Much more fun reproducing the actions than experiencing it I can tell you!

So how does a girl kill a day until her flight leaves at 22:30 bound for Sydney? Gets her hair braided, has a pedicure and a manicure of course, standards and all that! Not in the traditional way you understand. I met some really fun girls: Lina, Seadra, Lusi and Suzen - average age 14. They accosted me in the street, sat me down on the curb (keeps the cost of the business down) and proceeded to braid my hair ending in double beads. Then my finger and toe nails were painted with a pink base onto which were artistically added some flower patterns all applied with the brush in the nail varnish bottle.

Landed in Sydney bang on schedule where we stayed with some friends of mine who live in Paramata about 45 mins out of Sydney. Sydney is just full of endless surprises. Generally I see cities because they are there and it's all part of travelling. I see the obligatory tourist attractions and then find the quickest road out. But I have to say Sydney has to go down as my favourite city in the world and I just didn't want to leave. We planned to stay a few days and stayed 2 weeks! I told you I really liked it!

During our two weeks we took in the Rocks Area, Cadmore House, walked over, sailed under and climbed to the top of Sydney Harbour Bridge, or the "hanger" as it is also affectionately called, for stunning views of the Opera House. A ferry ride took us to Darling Harbour to shop. We took the hydrofoil to Manly and a boat ride down Hawkesbury River. A lot of our time was spent in the famous Queen Victoria Building which is an old refurbished building jam packed with shops and an amazing assortment of food, fresh fruits, fresh fruit juices and yogurt.

The aquarium lived up to its name as the best in the world. My favourite water creature has to be the huge sting ray which darted in and out of the specially designed tunnel. He had such a huge cheeky grin on his face - a real "look at me aren't I just a good looking specimen?" kind of look - male, obviously!

Visited some other friends in Woy Woy where the sun made a guest appearance and persuaded us to go for a walk along the jetty down to Ettalong and Ocean Beaches.

Of course we just had to do the wine tour so we drove to the Hunter Valley where we visited Richmond Grove and Tyrell wineries. The tour showed us the whole wine process from unloading the picked crop of red and white grapes, to fermentation, to bottling and packaging and of course tasting! Some oak casks were 150 years old. After lunch there was much more wine tasting and a creamy like Baileys drink called Love in a Glass.
We visited Steve who had been on our London -Kathmandu trip. I spent the morning on the beach whilst the boys played in the water and talked men talk. Then into Charlestown before driving to Lake McQuarie, the largest salt lake in Oz. I called home only to be told by Dad that I really needed to come home.

A bus journey took us to the famous Byron Bay where we checked into Adventure Lodges and walked straight to the beach. We took a long walk as far as we could down the white sandy beach before being directed along the Byron Walk which eventually led to the lighthouse - one of the most powerful in the southern hemisphere. The walk also takes you to the most eastern mainland of Oz so usual compulsory photo stop by the sign. The sun was still playing hard to get (or easy to lose as it's also known!) The grey sky and wind followed us up our walk to the lighthouse.

We tried to spend the day on the beach in between the downpours of rain. We found a yummy fondue in the early evening to set us up for our 2 hour bus ride to Surfer's Paradise. Finally in Queensland - the sunshine state - who are they kidding?! Rain!

The beaches were just the most amazing soft white sand. The surf was really big and the current very strong. Even the lifeguards got worried and brought their warning flags closer together. I had to give in on the sunbathing front as I was turning into a scorched Pink Panther from just walking around, boy is that sun fierce.

We caught a bus to Brisbane to catch the overnight bus to Whitsundays - a lot of bus rides in Oz, but the system is so cheap, flexible and reliable, everyone travels this way. We could only hope that the weather would improve. The big black clouds just seem to be following us up the Sunshine Coast.

We made it to at Airlie Beach at around 08:00 and managed to get a double room for A$25 at XXXXX Backpackers, 3km from Airlie Beach at Ocean Reef Village with a frequent bus shuttle into Airlie Beach. Really nice wood and brick cabin, own toilet and shower and even a fridge. Luxury!

Off to Shute Harbour to catch our catamaran "Capricorn". We set sail passing unending island masses varying in size, but all basically hilly and covered in trees. Just as we made a brief stop at Daydream Island the heavens opened. On our way to circumnavigating Whitsunday Island itself we passed Nara Inlet, Dent Island, Dumb Bell Island, Hamilton Island and Cid Harbour. We made a stop at Whitehaven Beach which has 3 km of silicon white sand and green blue crystal clear warm water. A glass bottom boat ride followed by a visit to the Hook Island Observatory before a choppy 1 ½ hour boat ride to South Molle Island - a real tourist trap. As we disembarked "Capricorn" the heavens opened once again and we got drenched. Great day, but were happy to return to our luxury warm and dry lodgings.

We took the free bus into Airlie to hitch up with our sailing vessel of the day, "Gretel". She was full to bursting with maximum 50 people. We settled in on the deck floor under the two huge masks of this 60ft vessel. The crew of four were great fun and broke the news to us that we would all have to give a helping hand and get involved with sailing her as she needed a crew of not 4 but 18! Now they tell us! So during the day I got involved in helping fold the sails and even turned my hand to taking the helm! Which way is north? We sailed to one of the islands and went snorkelling. Then a gentle sail back home.

To the Barrier Reef! We boarded our catamaran "Quick Cat II" and set off fairly smoothly, but due to the high tide swells it got slightly choppy and when we hit the open sea well out came the sick bags by the attentive stewardesses. 2 hours later we finally arrived at the Barrier Reef and did the glass bottom boat bit to get our first glimpse of the wonderful colourful marine life and coral. I then decided to take a helicopter flight over the coral islands including the really cute heart shaped one on all the postcards! Yes it exists! This is the best way to appreciate the 2000km stretch of broken reef. Then I dressed in the drop dead gorgeous snorkelling kit and went in search of the under water world.

All too soon it was time to face the reality of making my way back to face the music in the UK. I caught my bus for the 32 hour journey back to Sydney where I was met by some more friends Jenny and Ross and stayed with her parents in Longeville. I got treated to a very posh meal in the Yacht Club (her dad is a member) overlooking Sydney Harbour where I looked slightly under-dressed, even though I put my best stuff on.

Well I was due to fly direct to London at 16:15, but after lots of delays and evasive BA staff, we were told that the flight had been cancelled as the plane due to collect us out of Melbourne had had a slight argument with a bridge whilst preparing to take off and had dented the door so much so there was no cabin pressure. We were assured that a replacement plane would be sent ASAP. So we were put up in the Hilton, no hardship. I somehow managed to hook up with some 1st class pax and they just took me under their wing and charged everything to BA. It was St. Patricks Day so we went out and had a great time at BA's expense - until we went our separate ways and they boarded their direct Quantas flight and we finally boarded our KLM 5 stopover, one plane change journey. I hate taking off and landing most, so this was not ideal. The steward on the first flight was really kind. He came through with the drinks trolley and I asked for a Baileys. He said "sorry madam, Baileys is only for 1st Class passengers." I explained the saga of the cancelled flight and the minor detail that nobody had transferred my veggie food request so I was living on peanuts for the next 30 hours. He looked sympathetically at me and said, "don't move (like where was I going to go exactly!?) - I'll see what I can do." A short time later he walked through the aisle and slipped me a litre bottle of Baileys out of his jacket and said "don't tell anyone where you got it from and try and keep it to yourself." Me share Baileys? No way! That saw me through to Heathrow and back home!
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