Where are we?

The final frontier

2005-11-02T13:23:00.000Z

and Amy writes:

See our favourite photos from our 10 months of travelling. Contains 75 pics.

It was a year ago today that we landed in our first destination, Bangkok. We spent an unbelievable 10 months travelling and returned home eight weeks ago. We've moved into a flatshare in west London, both started work again and are enjoying all the fresh veg and milk we can chuck down our throats.

We'd always planned to put together some stats but have only just got round to typing it up, so here goes (all links point to a relevant blog post or photo):

Countries visited: 11.
Blog entries posted: 73.
Combined weight of luggage on our flight home: 49 kilos.
No. of flights taken: 17.
Time spent on buses: 394 hours (or 16.4 solid days).
Buses that broke down: four. (pics of numbers one, two and three).
No. of UNESCO World Heritage Sites visited: 16.
Things stolen: pack of cards.
Things lost: two hats (Amy).
Showdowns with cockroaches: one.
Rats fought: three.
Shoes bought in Buenos Aires: nine pairs between us.
Most popular period of blog activity: June, while we were stranded in La Paz during the protests, tourists who were stuck in other Bolivian cities read our daily updates for news from the capital.
Most talked-about blog post: the Peruivian roast guinea pig dinner.
Strangest achievement: Getting our photos in the Malay Mail.
Aprox. spent each per day in Asia: £10.
Approx. spent each per day in Bolivia: £12.
Approx. spent each per day in Australia: £33.
Approx. no. of photos taken: 6,500.
Approx. no. of photos that were worth keeping: 500.
Christmas spent in: Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, feeling out-of-place (few people there celebrate Christmas) and visiting the huge shopping centre beneath the Petronas Towers.
New Year's Eve spent in: Perth, Australia, heading to Kings Park for a great, noisy, drunk time.
Weirdest tour company that we decided to avoid: http://www.soundsnatural.co.nz/ (warning: contains naturists).

Jody's stats
Birthday spent in: Coober Pedy, Australia.
Deaths avoided: plunging to my doom in the Cameron Highlands, deadly snake-bite in the Australian outback, almost run-over in Buenos Aires (the car came so close it clipped my leg, despite me being on a pedestrian crossing).
Best food: Masaman curry (see recipe), eaten at Bee Bee restaurant, on the beach on Ko Lanta, Thailand. Trucha Rellena (stuffed trout) in Emperador restaurant, Cusco, Peru, comes a close second - posh dining for a pittance.
Worst food: Ais Kacang - Malaysia's worst dessert.
Best drink: Chica morada (purple sweetcorn juice, invented by the Incas in Peru).
Average no. of bug bites: one every three-and-a-half days.
Price of 0°C quality sleeping bag: £51.
No. of times sleeping bag used: once.
Lifespan of watch bought in Bangkok: 5 weeks, 6 days.

Amy's stats
Birthday spent in: Valparaiso, Chile.
Deaths avoided: decapitation while asleep on a Cambodian tuk-tuk, slipping off a hill to plummet into the dark jungle during a night-walk in the Amazon.
Best food: Honey Chicken, cooked by Merry Hut guesthouse owner, Noi, on Ko Lanta, Thailand.
Worst food: Stinking durian fruit in Malaysia. Actually, I hated most of the food in Malaysia: curried fish heads are not my thing either.
Best drink: Argentine wine.
Average no. of bug bites: one every 21 hours.

Our most popular photos on flickr:

Stuff we did
We've had so many great experiences that it's tough picking our favourites, but we thought we'd have a go. We especially enjoyed the weeks we spent in Sucre, Bolivia, teaching English and learning Spanish. We made lots of great friends - natives and fellow gringos alike and will always warmly remember our time there. We also enjoyed the week we spent in Ollantaytambo, exploring the beautiful, working Inca town and cooking and serving food as volunteers in a soup kitchen that served 130 school kids, daily.

We both agree that South America made our trip. Asia was great and we plan to return to see Vietnam and Laos, but having the luxury of five months in South America was incredible and we're sure to return one day to once again see all the friends we made.

Jody's best experiences:

Watching the sun climb the mountains of the Sacred Valley, shooting beams of light onto Machu Picchu.
Touching down in a tiny plane in the Amazon, before spending six days in the jungle and pampas,
Exploring the lesser-visted temples of Angkor Wat, Cambodia, at sunrise - it felt as if we were the first people to walk through the overgrown structures in centuries.
Being caught in La Paz for two weeks while the country was on the brink of civil war - terrifying at times, but an unforgettable experience that brought us closer to the locals than we would have otherwise become,
Wading among sharks in Coral Bay, Australia.
Eating the delicious street food of Bankok, Thailand.
Wolfing down a perfect platter of meat from the Mercado del Puerto, Uruguay.
The indescribably beautiful sights of the Tongariro Crossing hike.

Jody's worst experiences:

Sydney - beautiful, but dull.
Ayres Rock / Uluru - not that big; not that red.
Whale watching in New Zealand - shy whales, foggy weather, huge price tag. Turn 'em into soap (joke!).

Amy's best experiences

Eating pad thai for breakfast on the beach in Ko Phi-Phi.
Sleeping beneath a perfect set of southern stars in the Australian outback.
Getting drunk on wine ice-cream in Cafayate, Argentina.
Aerial views of New Zealand, both from a Helicopter flying over the Fox Glacier and while falling to Earth from a plane while parachuting over Lake Taupo.
Sloth-spotting in the Amazon basin.
Exploring ancient ruins at Batan Grande, Peru, where we had to get special permission to view the archaeological site.
Sitting awe-struck for hours, attempting to burn the image of Machu Picchu into my mind forever.
Seeing lots of animals in the wild, such as capybaras, aligators, kangaroos, seals, echidnas, and lots of monkeys.
Discovering foul-sounding food that was actually quite nice, such as grubs in Thailand and black pudding and 'morlecas' (heart glands) in Argentina.
Making friends with so many people, both locals (hello Jen and Frank, Lily and family, Gael, Delia, Consuelo, Zulma and the other teachers at Fox, Samuel, Leo, Lourdes and Vero) and other travellers (hi to Kate, Ruth and Alex, Roberto and Cyndi, Daniela, Kaleb and Kalpna, Simon and Cathryn, Liron, Ella, Rod, Sara, Tomas, Meta, Kazumi and Rie).

Amy's worst experiences

Sleazy, fat men in Malaysia.
Two horrific bouts of altitude sickness.
Missing the Nazca Lines, Peru, because the bus failed to drop us off.
Not being able to see for flies, at the Devil's Marbles, Australia.
Milford Sound: one of New Zealand's most beautiful fjords. We spent £115 to visit it... and it was shrouded in thick fog.

So that really is it: our final blog post. I hope you enjoyed keeping up with our trip. We had the time of our lives.

Jody and Amy

Goodbye world

2005-09-01T19:23:00.000Z

See our Argentina photos.

Amy and I had been together for almost three years when we set off on this around-the-world trip in November 2004. Having only spent the previous six months living together, nothing prepared us for 10 solid months of barely being out of each other's sight.

We've experienced things that most couples need years of marriage to discover. A lot of which we'd have both prefered to have remained a mystery: there's no hiding from your partner just how much that last meal of chicken-foot soup upset your innards when the bathroom is only feet away from the bed.

Thanks to all the friends who predicted we'd split up before we make it back to England, and although it hasn't always been happy travelling, it looks like our relationship still has a lot of mileage left. Besides, if we were to split, it would take ages to separate all the souvenirs we've bought.

In less than 24 hours, we'll be on a plane bound for Heathrow airport, but we've putting a brave face on returning to reality. We'll miss many things from the 11 countries we've visited, but there's also a lot of stuff we'll be glad to see the back of. Such as gut rot, wearing a money belt 24/7, putting our life on the line with every road crossing, bad coffee, mysterious food, weak beer, fearing tap water, re-packing our rucksack every few bloody days, rabid dogs, staring locals, sharing rooms with rats, con artists, electric death showers, know-it-all travellers, dorms and baggage handlers who demand a huge tip just for lifting your rucksack off a bus.

We're also longing for some home comforts upon our return (strangely, most of them consumable). I'd kill for a glass of fresh milk right now and we're both looking forward to cooking for ourselves, eating fuit and veg with a steady hand, wearing more than five different outfits, English newspapers and listening to music that doesn't involve panpipes and isn't one of the 20 CDs we're carrying. Oh, and of course, seeing friends and family.

It's incredible all the things we've seen and done over the past 10 months. Even though it was just weeks ago, walking breathlessly in the Andes seems like a lifetime away - Asia, eight months back, even further. By the time we get home, will any of it seem real at all? At least we have our journals, lots of photos and this blog to remind us that it was. And if you ever get bored of our plethora of travel anecdotes, perhaps you can all chip in and buy us another around-the-world ticket to get rid of us. Hasta luego.

Tango and trannys

2005-09-01T19:02:00.000Z

Tango: best left to the experts

Packing in so much seems to be normal for people in Buenos Aires - they're constantly on the go. Our friends here (Veronika, Leo, Lourdes, Virginia) have been keeping us busy by introducing us to what the locals get up to in the city, rather than the tourist haunts.

Jody, worried that he'd come back with bruised feet after a tango lesson with me, was suprised by how quickly we both mastered the initial steps of the passionate Argentine dance. It takes a lot of concentration and despite my aching feet, even as a beginner, you can feel how sexy it is!

Last night, we were taken to a show that couldn't have been more different - performing transvestites! We had to inform our friends that yes, there are trannys in London but whether an all-singing, all-dancing act like that in England could draw such a huge crowd at 2am on a Wednesday night is anyone's guess. Jody was just pleased we weren't sitting in the front row where a straight guy was teased and dragged up on stage, especially because we couldn't understand the jokes, spoken in rapid Spanish.

We've visited pretty much every shopping city and market Buenos Aires has to offer, making our luggage heavier and pockets lighter. But it's the sights that make this city. The re-vamped docks of Puerto Madero where we strolled along the river trying in vain to digest an all-you-can-eat meat feast. The colourful corregated iron houses and shops that make the area of La Boca famous (we'll upload more pictures soon) and Recoleta Cemetary with it's rows of towering, dark mausoleums where famous Argentine figures such as Eva Peron were laid to rest, and the hissing cats that live there follow your every move.

It feels really weird to be coming home. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Like the feeling before you leap from a plane (yes, I did that in New Zealand). You just try not to think about it too much before the event, for fear you'll wet yourself from excitement or get cold feet and not want to get on the plane. But we will be getting on our flight tomorrow whether it's to start our life again at home or plan the next adventure, because all good things come to an end, and this is the end of our good thing, the best thing we've ever done.

The final destination

2005-08-30T11:49:00.000Z

Jody loves his pancho

See our Buenos Aires photos.

Shopping and eating sums up our experience of Buenos Aires so far. We hated the place for our first couple of days here - it's a big, rowdy, confusing city and we felt totally lost in it. But a city tour and many taxis later and now we feel at home.

Our first hotel was nasty, but overlooked Plaza Mayo where the big, pink, camp Argentine houses of parliament sit. We got a kick out of watching local political TV reports on the news, then rushing onto our balcony to see if we could spot the same number bus we saw on the telly as it drove past our room. And then we plugged the heater in and it started a fire, so we decided to move.

We're now in the nice, posh district of Recoleta, where there are plenty of restaurants and shops. We decided to give up on hotels and hostals and rent a studio flat for our remaining 10 days before we fly back to London on September 2. We meet a lot less tourists this way, but we've made plenty of Argentine friends who are keeping us busy (thanks for all the meat, Veronika and Leo!).

We're going to find it really hard to adjust back to English food. We're so used to being fed until we can't move that I doubt my usual salad for lunch back home will cut it. We went for sushi the other night - it left us satisfied but not I've-just-eaten-a-kilo-of-meat satisfied. By midnight we had to go out and get a takeaway. So yes, we're both coming home fat. The home luxury I've been longing for most is a glass of milk - South America hasn't advanced beyond UHT and it's driving me nuts.

We went to a football match last week: Argentina's Boca Juniors versus Colombia's Once Caldas. It was a lot of noisy fun, with cheerleaders, fireworks and a forest's worth of paper streamers. Only about 20 Colombian fans travelled here for the match and were surrounded by at least 30 cops to keep them separate from the Argentine fans. Boca won 3-1.

Including today, we only have three full days here before we fly home to London on Friday, so we're finally packing in some sight-seeing this afternoon and tango classes this evening. That is, so long as we can be bothered after a big, meaty lunch.

Five days in Uruguay

2005-08-27T22:08:00.000Z

Knackered machinery at El Anglo

See our Uruguay photos.

We've seen some of the greatest landmarks in the world - Ankor Wat, Ayers Rock, Machu Picchu and now, El Anglo meat factory in Fray Bentos.

The factory churned out horrible tinned meat for over 100 years before it closed in 1979. It's now a haunting, decaying complex of buildings in which victorian machinery lies where it was abandoned, under decades of grime. It's hard to believe that at it's peak the factory made this town the richest in South America, slaughtering over 12,000 animals every day.

A huge warehouse of meat hooks lay rusting through one window, ancient machinery covered in dust in another. Cracks in the walls, lots of broken windows, birds nesting in the old packing rooms. A brick chimney towered above us as our guide pointed out the big glass windows of the slaughter house. For somewhere that once employed 5000 people, this was now the loneliest place I'd ever been. In a 'shivers down my spine' way.

The highlights of the on-site museum were the two-headed calf pickled in a jar since 1938 and the exhibit showing the many faces of tinned meat through the ages including the delicous-sounding 'Breakfast Tongues'.

It was enough to put Jody off meat for half a day, which was a good thing too as none of the restaurants in the tiny hamlet of Fray Bentos claimed to have any. While everyone else we met was lovely and friendly, most restaurant owners stared as if we were aliens, tried to avoid serving us, then would say they didn't have any food left while other punters, locals I'm sure, tucked into juicy steaks.

Wanting to escape the weirdness, we holed up in our hotel room (strangely the best we've had in South America) drinking chocolate milk. Like Argentina, the lunch options in Uruguay are limited to hotdogs, burgers and greasy breaded chicken - so chocolate milk actually seemed healthy.

The food in the country's capital, Montevideo, was more than we could have hoped for. In fact, we both agree it's probably the best meat we've ever eaten!

The Mercado del Puerto (translated as 'market by the port') looks like a British train station, was once a meat market and now houses the many restaurants that punters flock to for lunch. We've never seen happier faces! There's the tradional asado favourites (beef, sausages, pork) along with some delicacies you'd never get elsewhere, like Morcilla Dulce (sweet black pudding). I never thought I'd say it, but blood congealed with orange peel is delicious! This meal restored my faith in food. Montevideo was pretty tranquil for a capital city but that was the reason we liked it. A good place to stroll and relax. The calm before the storm.

Where are we? In the storm that is Buenos Aires, Argentina's capital. A sprawling hectic city. And what are we doing? Buying lots of shoes.

Revenge of the giant guinea pig

2005-08-14T16:34:00.000Z

Capybara: world's biggest rodent. FACT

See our Esteros del Ibera photos.

See our Iguazu falls photos.

The bus was crap - a small, tin crate on threadbare tires, but at the least when we started our journey to Esteros del Ibera we were driving on tarmac roads. Five minutes later (and for the following three hours), the road turned to dirt and was so bumpy that we were afraid of opening our mouths in case our teeth shook out.

Esteros del Ibera is a nature reserve in north-east Argentina. Not many people go there, which means the animals are extremely friendly, at the cost of crap transport and boulder-filled roads.

We were heading there because Amy was set on seeing a Capybara. It's the world's biggest rodent - imagine a guinea pig the size of a pig-pig and you're there. (More information about the creatures from 'The Happy Capy' website). We didn't need to drive too deep into the park to spot one - a whole family of the giant beasts blocked the road on the way in.

The village we stayed in was so laid back that most of the locals wore slippers 24/7. On our first day, we took a boat out on a lake and spotted loads more Capybaras wading in the mud. The boat got so close to one that we could have stroked it, but the Capybara marked his disapproval by blowing a load of noisy bubbles in the mud with his arse. Perhaps he was unhappy that we ate one of his relatives in Peru.

A bloody great aligator

We also got within feet of aligators, an anaconda, birds and deer - few of which gave a damn about our presence. Later in the day we went horse riding and following what happened in the Bolivian pampas, this time I got the crazy horse. The bugger bucked and flinched whenever I tried to steer him and he had it in for another horse in our group, riden by one of two English guys we'd befriended. Not happy with just biting and nudging the other horse, my equestrian nightmare got within striking distance and THUNK; cracked the other horse on the jaw with a headbutt. I spent three hours on horseback, braced to be chucked off in a way that hopefully wouldn't break my back. Eventually, I made it back to the village in one piece.

The previous week we went to Iguazu falls - a mammoth set of falls that we walked around and got soaked from. Before that we spent a few days in Villa General Belgrano - a bizarre German-theme town set up by disgraced German soldiers who were interned in the country during World War Two. I found it a strange place because it celebrates it's heritage by selling souvenirs emblazoned with the name of the warship that took the soldiers to Argentina (the 'Graf Spree' - more info).

An Argentine friend we made pointed to the name on a T-shirt and asked what it meant. "It was a Nazi ship!" I offered, helpfully. The lady in the shop had other ideas. "It wasn't a Nazi ship," she said. "It was mistaken for a Nazi ship." Why is there a statue of a German soldier in the park then, I wondered? Anyway, nice beer there.

Where are we? In Gualeguaychu, which our guidebook describes as "sleepy," but I'd put it closer to "comatose." We're only here to catch a bus into Uruguay later today.

Web cafes are so poor in Argentina that they should all be taken outside and shot. We'll try and blog more before we get home, and hopefully get some photos up. You'll all be hearing our stories for months when we get back to London, so you should all bloody well be pleased by the break.

Beef overload

2005-07-30T17:11:00.000Z

I whine, you whine, we all whine for wine

See our photos from Salta and around.

"If I eat another steak, I'll cry...."

It'll get like that eventually. I'll probably get fed up of the huge, juicy slabs of meat, cooked to perfection. The thing about Argentina is that you are expected to consume half a cow at every meal. And a bottle of wine. There's not much else to the menu. Unsurprisingly, the rate of heart disease here is high. We've already started to ration our steak intake, not just because of health reasons but because it's getting boring. Fillet, sirloin, rump or chicken if you're lucky.

We've only been in the country for a week but have started getting pregnant-woman-like-cravings for something else, different food - anything! Yesterday, Jody and I did the unthinkable. We went on a spending spree in the local fruit and veg market, coming back to the hostel with an array of raw produce and eating it all along with a tin of tuna and glasses of milk. The women working at the hostal looked on amused while tucking into their beef dinner. Tonight though, we're returning to meat for our first Parrilla (pah-ree-ya) - an Argentine speciality. It's a barbecued assortment of beef cuts including offal and tripe (yuk!) along with steak and sausages. Almost a whole cow!

It's all about excess from what we've seen so far. Huge dinners, lots of wine and late nights. We're just back from a two-day tour of the local valleys. Despite a heavy schedule of beautiful views and pretty small towns, we all ended up staying out till dawn drinking wine and cheap beer on the first night, before getting up on the second day for wine-tasting at the local vineyards of Cafayate. No-one was sick. After lunch, we discovered the other Cafayate speciality - wine ice-cream. Beats Mr Whippy hands down but don't give it to the kids. There was a lot of real wine in there. The rest of the afternoon didn't go quite as smoothly as we raced round hairpin bends and bumpy roads on a belly full of Cabernet ice-cream.

It's all downhill from here

2005-07-23T15:44:00.000Z

Bloody great Colca Canyon condor

See our Peru photos.

"Did you get robbed while in Arequipa?" our cab driver asked as he drove us to collect our bus to Chile.
"No," I replied.
"Oh that's good!" he said. "Lucky!"

We'd heard about Arequipa's reputation as a thief's paradise, but managed to avoid trouble for the few days we were there, despite a lady in the bakery telling us that our hotel was in a bad neighbourhood.

We'd spent the previous two days in the Colca Canyon, but had booked a lazy tour. I was recovering from illness, so didn't feel like a hardcore trek, with only a crumbly path preventing me from plummeting to my death in the world's deepest canyon. Plus we've been on the road for nine months; we're getting lazy; get used to it.

So, our tour didn't feature lots of walking, but it did include breaking down at 4,900 meters above sea level (lots of people were throwing up from oxygen deprivation while the driver tried to fix the bus), and a morning of condor spotting.

We crossed back into Chile yesterday (via the Tacna / Arica border) and it couldn't have been easier. The border officials were particularly slack:

Border guard: "Do you have any fruit in your bag?"
Me: "No."
Border guard: "Do you like drugs?"
Me: "Oh no! I don't like drugs!"
Border guard: "Good! Move along."

Tonight we take a 24-hour bus ride from Arica, Chile, to Argentina. After spending three months in the Andes, I'm sad to finally leave them. True, the air was so thin that we got knackered walking up a short hill, the bus rides were frightening and the food was dull (meat, chips and maybe a leaf of lettuce if you're lucky), but life at sea level seems so plain. The towns all look the same, the locals don't wear silly hats and there's not a llama in sight.

We had some issues with Peru - almost every tour we did was crap, Peruvians struggle to tell the truth, everyone tried to rip us off - but we still had a lot of fun and will never forget the stunning ruins of the Incas and their ancestors. One other thing I'll never forget about Peru is the sheer number of Peruvians who pee on the street. Wet arches adorn the sides of almost every building in Peru, and during Inti Raymi, when Cusco was packed with people, the streets literally flowed with urine.

Strolling through Cusco one afternoon, a Peruvian guy kindly redirected his stream of piss to let Amy and I pass, and later we spotted an old lady squatting in broad daylight on the side of the road. A yellow trickle danced from beneath her traditional-dress skirt and onto the cobble stones, before she straightened her bowler hat and returned to selling peanuts on the side of the road.

Next stop: Salta, Argentina. Expect us to be pretty fat on steaks by the time we get back to London.

No sleep 'til Nazca

2005-07-19T22:31:00.000Z

Jody in Santa Catalina Convent

See our Arequipa photos.

There was always going to be another bus-ride-from-hell and for me, this was it.

Jody was sick so instead of doing another mammoth bus journey, we were going a relatively short distance: Lima-Nazca (7 hours). I was going to relax by the pool, he was going to spend a day in bed before we did the tourist stuff (Nasca Lines, Chauchilla mummies) and then get another bus further south. Simple, you'd think.

We got the ticket to Nasca, watched as the luggage guys loaded our bags last (the bus was continuing south to Arequipa) and settled in for the ride. The bus was deluxe but still cramped for Jody. He was forced to stick his legs out into the aisle and put up with people tripping over them on their way to the toilet.

Despite my inclination for sleeping on any moving vehicle, Jody being ill meant he needed sleep more than me. I was going to stay awake so we could be ready to jump off when we got there.

18:30 Bus leaves Lima. Jody and Amy read American GQ (bought at great expense)
19:30 Dinner is served. Chicken and rice plus sugary soft drink. Better than airplane food.
20:30 Entire bus takes part in a game of Bingo with stewardess as the caller on a microphone. Jody almost wins but not quite.
21:15 Movie - American film 'School of Rock' dubbed into Spanish
21:17 We buzz stewardess and ask for subtitles in English. She looks annoyed.
21:25 Watch film but can't work out why subtitles are not what actors are saying
21:30 Realise it is director's commentary and quite interesting.
23:00 Film over. Jody already alseep. Feel eyelids drooping so read more GQ and listen to CD player.
00:30 Batteries run out. Have to borrow some from camera. Now have to mime singing to keep brain active and stop me feeling sick on windy roads.
02:30 Play 'count the sand dune'
03:30 Jody wakes up and we discuss why it is taking so long. I say we have to be nearly there as we have been driving through desert for ages.
04:00 We buzz Stewardess and ask how far it still is to Nasca. She looks confused, we get worried. She looks at our ticket and then she looks worried. Goes off to the back.
04:10 She returns, our fears are confirmed. We are way past Nasca - although she and two other people checked the ticket before we boarded, they forgot to drop us off there.
04:13 We don't understand what else she says except that we have no choice but to go another 5 hours to Arequipa, the final stop of the bus.
04:20 Jody goes back to sleep, I sit and fume - now strangely awake.
06:15 A girl comes over, English-speaking to translate for the stewardess. She wants us to transfer buses in an hour and swap to one going back to Nasca. After almost 12 hours, we refuse saying we can't handle a further 8 hours travelling right now.

Eventually some three hours later, we got to Arequipa where we had a confronatation with the bus company, Cruz del Sur. Everyone we told the story to looked shocked and blamed someone else but I was too tired, and Jody too ill to care. We've been here almost a week now. Jody has been in bed most of the time (the longer ride had made him worse) and although, Cruz del Sur gave us tickets to go back to Nazca - it's too late. Like a moody teenager I want to say; "Cruz del Sur - you have ruined my life!" If there was a door to slam, I'd slam it.

On the up side, we booked ourselves into a nice hotel with cable TV and have rested watching terrible 80's movies (Twins, Beverly Hills Cop 2, Ferris Bueller etc). Today we managed some tourist sites such as the beautiful Santa Catalina convent - so huge that there are 80 separate quarters for the nuns and their servants, with streets and plazas connecting them. We'll be out of Peru before the week is out and heading to Argentina for our last six weeks of exploring.

Incas are so last week

2005-07-09T18:05:00.000Z

Cheeky Moche pot

See our 'Moche' photos.

After three months spent in the Andes, we finally flew down to sea level again on Wednesday. Landing in Lima, we immediately caught a bus North to Chiclayo. There are a lot less tourists up north and Peruvians have been staring at us since we arrived.

They stare at us in the street and they stare at us in restaurants. A guy even staged an 11-hour stare-a-thon on our bus journey from Lima, without blinking. Girls and kids find it a novelty and sometimes shout "hello!" at us in the street. Guys just stare at us as if they're trying to work out how much money is in our pockets.

We've enjoyed a few frantic days of sightseeing, visiting various pre-Inca sites of the Moche and Chimu period (which was roughly from the birth of Christ to 1470). We had to shell out a small fortune for a private tour of the sites, due to the lack of tourists in Chiclayo (the 30 or so people who had booked into our hotel prior to us were Peruvian).

Our guide stumbled through a musuem tour, with little knowledge of what he was talking about and even less knowldege of the English language. At the end of the tour, we sat in a room with a load of kids who were on a school daytrip. After a short wait, a member of museum staff clambered out of a cupboard in his full Moche King gear. 10 minutes of stomping about and chanting culminated in him asking our guide, in Spanish: "Do they speak espanol?"

"A little, I think," our guide replied.

"Well get them to have their photo taken with me so they can give me some money," the Moche King said, setting a fine example to the kids on how to deal with tourists: fleece them for all the cash they have.

We flatly refused to have our photo taken in front of 30 school children, especially when our guide tried to persuade us to wear silly, fake gold headsets. I gave the King one Peruvian Sole anyway - fake gold armour can't come cheap after all.

We arrived in Trujillo yesterday, which is where we'd originally planned to volunteer, before we learnt that the organisation we were going to work for was corrupt. We're glad that we volunteered in Sucre instead. The Peruvian coast appears to be shrouded in a constant fog and the towns have a depressing feeling about them. We also volunteered last week for a few days while in Ollantaytambo, working in a restaurant that served free food to 130 kids each day. It involved lots of chopping veg.

Peruvian food update: I tried ceviche (raw fish) and didn't die. I can't say that I liked the texture, but I'm more likely to eat it again before going back for more roast guinea pig.

We head to Lima in a couple of days, then continue to work our way south to Nazca and Arequipa, before reaching Argentina. I hope everyone back home in London is ok after the blitz. Thanks for contacting us, to those who did.

We're all Inca'ed out

2005-07-03T14:02:00.000Z

Us! On a rock! At Machu Picchu!

See our Machu Picchu photos.

As the sun rose and beams of light hit the mountain at Machu Picchu, we got out the camera and finally felt relaxed. A few days before, we hadn't been sure we'd make it to Peru's most famous attraction because I had been struck with a flu-like virus and lay shivering in bed. Now, there I was (with the help of two paracetamol) holding Jody's hand on the dizzying heights of the most beautiful Inca citidel in the world. And it really is...

The setting is just amazing. How they managed to create such a huge complex at the mountain is beyond me. And early in the morning, I really did get a touch of vertigo trying to take it all in. The site is vast and while the buldings are interesting, but it's the setting that gives Machu Picchu the edge.

A funny Inca-sized man (who used 'for example' at the beginning and end of every sentence) gave us a tour of the intricate ritual temples but the best bit for me was the three-and-a-half hours we spent at the viewpoint, both at sunrise and in the afternoon just staring at the beauty of it all from above.

In total, we were there eight-and-a-half hours wandering on our own,
sitting on the terraces, climbing for more views and not a minute in the gift shop.

All hail the Inca King

See our Inti Raymi photos.

The week before we'd been privy to see the traditional Inca festival of Inti Raymi, where a week of parades culminates in a huge ceremony celebrating the sun on June 24. With it being Andean winter and a few showers in the week, we'd been worried they'd have to re-name it 'Inti Rainy' but in the end the day went off without a hitch.

We'd paid out $60 each (a small fortune here) for seats to watch some hammy actors stumble through the ancient ceremony which culminated in the sacrifice of a llama. The High Priest holds up it's heart and if it's still beating, good fortune is predicted for the coming year. The verdict was delivered in Quechua so we don't have a clue what kind of year it's going to be. After it was all over, we looked underneath the stage to find the llama alive and well. It was obviously a well-trained stunt llama. God knows where they got the heart from?

Where are we? We're back in Cusco, but fly to Lima on Tuesday, where we'll catch a bus up the Northern coast to Chiclayo for more ruins. This time we-ll be poking around pre-Inca relics.

Waiter, there's a rat on my plate

2005-06-23T18:35:00.000Z

"What's for dinner, mum?" "Fluffy, son."

Thailand has it's pad thai and fried insects, Australia has it's kangaroo steaks, but Peru has something even more delicious: roasted guinea pig.

We made a couple of friends in Australia that we've bumped into around the world (they're called Alex and Ruth and they have a website too), so when we met them again in Cusco, we made a pact that we wouldn't leave until we'd eaten guinea pig (or 'cuy' as they call it here).

We've never been confronted by such a terrifying meal. I'm still suspicious whether it actually was a guinea pig - it was HUGE and overhung our plate. Probably a rat. It didn't have much meat on it or taste for that matter, but the tiny scrapings we ate were horrible and pink, like turkey leg dipped in death. Some of the beast's innards were intact, including the kidneys, and any gaps were filled with rancid stuffing.

Amy did a stirling job of getting through our rodent, while I pulled it's dead head into different expressions (depsite it being roasted, it was still possible to make the thing blink and waggle it's tongue). For some reason, me playing with the creature's severed head put Alex and Ruth off their guinea pig, the wimps.

I once told a Bolivian friend we made in La Paz that in the UK, we keep guinea pigs as pets and would never think of eating them. "But why, when they're so tasty?" he replied.

It's unlikely that we'll ever try guinea pig again, though I'd still rather have a second helping of it, than try Peru's other famous dish: ceviche - basically raw fish, with a bit of lemon. Food poisoning, anyone?

Lake Titicaca and the million dollar bra

2005-06-21T19:35:00.000Z

Watch out for the giant flag

See our Lake Titicaca pictures. (30 in total over two pages, including Amy on a horse, 10 children in traditional dress, two silly hats, kittens, llamas and one angry bird).

We'd heard bad things about the Bolivia / Peru border at Desaguadero. Border officials stealing money from tourists; planting drugs in their bags and then threatening them with prison unless they cough up a hefty bribe - you know, the usual.

We'd also heard that the border officials were wise to tourists stowing money in money belts and boots, so we had to stash our cash in a place they'd never look: Amy's bra. She had about $400 dollars rammed in there and she couldn't have looked better.

As it turned out, we passed into Peru and reached our destination of Puno (which I can confirm for Amy's dad, who'd been reading the Home Office website, is crammed with rabid dogs) without any problems at all. From here we spent a couple of days on Lake Titicaca, which was great fun despite the efforts of probably the world's worst guide trying his hardest to ruin it for us.

I won't go into details, so you can look at our Lake Titicaca photos instead (warning: contains a picture of us in silly clothes).

We're now in Cusco, "the naval of the Inca World" as all guidebooks remind us. There's an incredible number of tourists here - everyone's either waiting to see Machu Picchu, or are on their way back from doing it. We can't walk down the street without being chased by a crowd of touts trying to bribe us into their bar, restaurant, or get us to book the bloody Inca Trail with them.

To everyone here, we look like like big, walking wallets (apart from the shoe shine boys, who think we look like big, dirty boots.)

We're being scrooges and boycotting the four-day Inca Trail. It's too expensive and quite frankly, we're lazy and would rather catch the train. We did shell out $60 each today though, for seats at Inti Raymi (more info). It's the annual Inca festival of the sun and features lots of funny costumes and dancing, culminating with the sacrifice of a llama. It's on Friday. We can't wait.

I'll teach you a thing or two

2005-06-18T14:34:00.000Z

I told you not to wear that to class

Now that we're safely in Peru, far away from the problems of La Paz and the past few weeks - I think it's safe to reminisce a bit about our time as teachers. Living out our daily lives in Sucre, being settled and not feeling like 'travellers' for a while has been the best bit of South America for me (so far). 61 days in Bolivia and I wouldn't have it any other way. Welcome to the weird and wonderful world of TEFL teaching....

Despite originally being given 'the worst class in the school' (to quote one teacher), my overall feelings on teaching were that while challenging, I was actually helping people improve their lives. It was like suddenly turning into Jamie Oliver at a cooking convention. We were the most popular people in the school for a time, even 'teaching the teachers' in a weekly session. The best job satisfaction!

And yes, my original class weren't exactly a joy to teach. They were riotous 10-year-olds who'd much rather run in the playground than have another hour at school. But the lessons sometimes brought unexpected fun like trying to explain the meanings of computer-related titles when I was asked, such as 'Medal of Honour' and 'Power-Point'. Although I had to feign innocence when one of the boys piped up, "what does Vice City mean?"!

For a more challenging teaching experience, I swapped the little terrors for a class of older students who had a lesser grasp of English. In fact, it may have been a godsend that I was actually sent to help them as their normal English teacher was stuggling with the language herself. She later admitted to me that she hadn't actually used her English in about 20 years which was why she was a bit rusty. In this class, we got down to some proper work even with simple things such as distinguishing the meaning and pronounciation between words (such as 'yes', 'chess' and 'cheese' on one occasion).

But it didn't stop there. We also helped in a language exchange most of the week and had that mad weekend where we managed to work day and night to make them that website *another plug*. All in all, we were busier than at home! We just wanted to get stuck in and help as much as possible in the time we had.

Our final day was marked with a promise of a trip to the local karoke bar. We had been a bit concerned about the prospect of singing (in español) but the teachers seemed so keen we didn't want to disapoint. As they led us down the street, I was trying to find out if they had any songs in English and didn't even notice that they were taking us in the wrong direction and into our favourite steak restaurant... It was such a brilliant evening. We were lost for words that this elabrorate ruse was to thank us for all our hard work. We were presented with so many gifts - flowers, matching fleeces, cards, that we almost decided we didn't want to leave afterall. Even now, we often chat about our time there and plot when we can go back...

Where are we? Just arrived in Cusco - the home of Machu Picchu (very exciting). We'll probably be staying about two weeks which is about enough time to visit the many Inca ruins plus enjoy the big winter solstice festival of Inti Raymi on June 24.

Leaving La Paz

2005-06-11T17:34:00.000Z

Your standard, rammed
Bolivian market

La Paz appears to be back to normal again. The streets are rammed with markets, bus loads of tourists are arriving and you can't cross the road for fear of being run over.

New people checked into our hotel (El Solario) for the first time all week and men are working to repair the ripped up cobble-stone roads (a few days ago, protesters dug them up and piled the bricks for blockades). Hell, it was even warm and sunny today.

Now that the petrol stations are open again there are huge queues for fuel, so bus services aren't back to normal yet. This means that we're stuck here until Monday, before we head to Copacabana.

Although at times things were tense and terrifying, I'm glad that we were here when La Paz was on the brink of civil war. I couldn't imagine a friendlier war zone than Bolivia! It shows the true colours of the people here, that even when they're fleeing tear gas rockets, they still have time to apologise for the mess the streets are in and ask if we need help getting back to our hotel.

We befriended a lot of people here during the trouble, such as shop owners and one person I'm particularly impressed with being on first name terms with - a witch from the witches market (you can see a photo of her here). I'm sure if we run into any other problems in South America, she can help us out by rustling up a plague of locusts, or something.

It's great to see that locals are able to earn a living again. And the sight last week of kids playing football on a street that today is once again choked with traffic, will stay with me for a long time.

From now on, we'll resume normal frequency of blog posts (one every few days), because no one wants to hear about La Paz living up to it's name (in English: 'The Peace').

What a difference a day makes

2005-06-10T17:31:00.000Z

Military enrolement starts early in Bolivia

Potosi is a mining city in southern Bolivia that's full of poor miners who pointlessly dig away inside dangerous caves to try and scrape themselves a scrap of tin. Miners have made up a large number of the protesters since the demonstrations began. Dressed in tin hats that make them resemble World War One vets, they intimidate police and egg on the other demonstrators by throwing dynamite around.

Some traveller knobs revel in it. One told us: "I heard that there were riots in La Paz and I flew right here!" And now you're stuck here you twat, laying in bed at night, hoping that the objects that land on your roof are rocks and not dynamite.

Yesterday police shot dead a miner outside Sucre - surprisingly the first fatality since the protests started a month ago. We awoke this morning to the boom of more dynamite blasts than we'd ever heard before. Miners had flocked in their hundreds to La Paz, but not to fight police. We headed down to the main avenue to see what all the fuss was about (as you do, when you hear TNT going off) and watched as a coffin was carried by a group of miners, flanked by others throwing dynamite on the road as a kind of TNT salute to the deceased.

There has been no violence in the city today and after the head of Bolivia's Supreme Court was appointed president last night (see news story), it seems that the city is slowly returning to normal. Blockades are being cleared, some cars are back on the roads and police are performing routine street patrols again (previously, most of the city was lawless).

For the first time in weeks it's possible to take a cab to the airport in daylight without it getting stoned. We've heard mixed messages from people here, but the word is that petrol is finally making it's way to the airport and flights will resume again shortly.

We've been denied seats on the flight to Cusco tomorrow, but because bus services are rumoured to run again from Sunday, we'll find out tomorrow if we're instead busing it out of here. It'll save us a lot of money and we'll be able to get to Copacabana - the access point for Lake Titicaca.

It's crazy what a difference a day makes. I don't even understand why people have toned down their protests - there's still no chance of gas nationalisation, but perhaps the protesters are pacified by the prospect of a general election (more power to the people, I suppose).

Although we've had a crazy week here - and I don't want to speak too soon, because we haven't left yet - I'm glad that we rode it out. (Exciting traveller boast no.23: "While in Bolivia, we got tear-gassed! It burnt our eyes and throats and was super.").

It's also proved what a fat lot of good foreign embassies are. The US Embassy was so terrified earlier in the week that most of their staff fled back to the States, the bunch of wimps (as this story reports). What about the poor American tourists stuck here?

Taking the protests very seriously, Israel chartered some kind of chicken plane to get their tourists out of La Paz on Wednesday (see story). Military service is compulsory in Israel, so why their government is worried about a crowd of trained killers being in danger when the rocks start to fly, I have no idea.

And how about the British Embassy? Well, we emailed them the other day and their advice was thus: "It would be sensible for those that have not already done so, to have a reserve of tinned food." How very English. Every year at Christmas, the people in my mum's village panic-buy food, knowing that the local shop will be closed for two days. So I suppose the prospect of no more food entering La Paz, ever, is cause enough to get the sardines in. Cheers British Embassy. You may have saved our lives.

Another day in paradise

2005-06-09T18:10:00.000Z

The message is clear

After the quiet that was yesterday, we all had our fingers crossed that maybe it was... over?

Some people in our hostel have this crazy idea that it's fun to be stuck in this situation. If someone was paying me, fair enough. If I was working, fair enough. But as a bystander, no thankyou. I'm supposed to be on holiday, not trying to dodge tear gas!

The dynamite explosions to rally the protesters started up again before midday with more intensity and ferocity than before, so we had no choice but to hole up in our hostel. With nothing else to do, I decided to pass some time online. This was fine until all the computers, hovers etc. in our hostel were suddenly cut off, sparking a panic of a city-wide power cut - something that the protesters had been threatening since all the trouble began. After half an hour of thinking we'd have to start living on chocolate and bananas, we got a report from a fellow guest that it was just our block that had no power. Relief all round and we celebrated with a game of cards.

To be honest, I'm still clinging to the vague hope we can leave on Saturday (the agency still haven't confirmed our flight) or that the British Embassy will rescue us if it gets any worse.

From what we've seen in the centre and gringo district, the atmosphere is a lot calmer than it was on Tuesday. We haven't smelt a whiff of tear gas and while many people are congregating in the squares, we haven't seen any marches outside the square, violence or further ripping up of the roads.

While we see some taxis and buses trying to drum up business in the early mornings, the rest of the day the streets are free of cars because of fear that they might get stoned. Even the taxi that brought us from the airport had a big crack across his windscreen after he was ambushed.

Protesters are making speeches along the main avenue but there seems to be a lot less people gathering there than earlier this week. Police presence is concentrated to government buildings and the main squares, and appears minimal elsewhere. Police aren't very popular at the moment so they're trying to stick together.

In Sucre, Congress are meeting today to decide the fate of President Mesa - is he allowed to resign or not? Not that any of this matters to the protesters, getting Mesa out of office doesn't help their cause. It's just a temporary distraction for the government.

Other news: the only time I ventured out today, I had some horrible squat Bolivian man say something rude and blow me a kiss. Urgh! The funny thing is, it's so cold here that I reckon he could only see from my eyebrows to my nose - I'm so wrapped up!

All's quiet in La Paz

2005-06-08T16:15:00.000Z

A march, last Monday

If you want to beat the protestors you have to get up early in the morning. That's because most of them have a long walk from El Alto - the poor suburb that's far away from the city centre and stretches up into the mountains.

So today we were at the post office at 9am, shipping yet another box of woolen products to the UK. Getting Amy out of bed at that time is a war in itself, but we made it. We saw a few cars making their way through the streets, undisturbed, (yesterday, they would have been stoned) and market stalls were opening. By midday, protesters had gathering on the main avenue, but compared to yesterday's bedlam, all is calm.

This afternoon we discovered shops on our street that previously hid behind wooden boards. We haven't smelt so much as a whiff of tear gas all day. Many market stalls are still closed, but it's an improvement.

It's currently 4pm and there's not a hint of tension in the air. At this time yesterday we were cowering in a shop the size of a shoebox with eight Bolivian people, watching the tear gas fly from our window.

In fact, the most dangerous thing I experienced today was a chicken empanada I bought off the side of the road (after biting the top off, I tipped about a pint of grease out of it before admitting defeat).

Another serious danger is that the longer we stay here, the more crap we end up buying. "Look Amy, that rug's nice," ten minutes later turned into: "Ok, we'll take it!"

Certain foods are becoming so sparse that the burger I ate for lunch appeared to have been sliced down the middle, so that the other half could be sold to another customer. We've stocked up with enough water, snacks and booze to last us until we (hopefully) fly on Saturday. Our seats on the flight will be confirmed or denied tomorrow.

Sin gas, por favor

2005-06-07T16:25:00.000Z

Small blockade on gringo alley

The protests over gas in La Paz have probably hit mainstream news in the UK now, with the President's offer of resignation last night. So we thought we'd start regular updates on the blog to let you know that we're fine.

The protests have taken over the city centre and have fallen into the routine of starting in the main square each morning, before police drive the protestors up to higher ground each afternoon.

The majority of protestors act peacefully, but gather in such overwhelming numbers that the police disperse them with tear gas. (By the way, the affects of tear gas are unpleasant, but not serious. Both Amy and I have been caught in a few clouds of the stuff now and it burns the nostrils, eyes and throat but wears off the minute you get to fresh air. There's more tear gas info on How Stuff Works.com).

We've been grateful for the kindness of the public here. Earlier today we were walking to a flight office and were caught in a crowd fleeing the square to escape the police. Protesters stopped to ask if we were ok, offering us boiled sweets (if needed, they apparently suppress the affects of the gas) and advised us on the best way to get back to our hotel.

Today, shop owners asked if we'd like to shelter in their buildings in case there was more gas released. The police appear to only be armed with tear gas and batons, and no serious injuries have been reported since the protests began weeks ago.

The demonstrations are destroying business in the city. The black market was bustling when we were here last month, but today only a few stalls were open. One hotel receptionist told us that only two tourists were staying at her four-storey hotel. There are no cars on the streets and people play football on the normally-congested main avenue. Restaurants are running out of food and a Bolivian friend we've made told us that the price of eggs in his neighbourhood has risen from 0.20 Boliviano's to 2 Boliviano's.

We're hoping to fly to Peru on Thursday, but many of the airlines are suffering from a fuel shortage because protestors have built blockades on all of the city's access roads. If not, we'll fly on Saturday with LAB airlines, who don't appear to have been affected by the shortage. Who knows - perhaps everything will be back to normal by then. More tomorrow.

Goodbye sunshine, hello tear gas

2005-06-02T12:08:00.000Z

Small guitar, loud clothes

See our Sucre pictures

We've fallen into a way of life in Sucre, having spent over a month here. We buy grapefruit juice off the guy in the square and homemade biscuits from the woman with crazy teeth in the Plaza. We take Spanish lessons in the morning, teach English in the evenings and spend nights drinking Havana Club rum with our friends in the hotel. So why the hell we're leaving this sunny paradise for cold, dirty La Paz I've no idea, but we can't stay here forever. Peru beckons and La Paz is the logical stepping stone. Besides, all of our friends have left Sucre now and one of the TV channels has started a Jean-Claude Van Damme season, so we think it's a sign to make a move.

Here's some of the things we'll remember about Sucre:

Teaching English: I've been teaching a class who are mostly around 15 years old, alongside their usual teacher, Delia. Last night was my final class with them and due to an unexpected phonecall from the airline, I didn't get to the class untill it was almost over. I arrived to find that they'd prepared a goodbye party, with pizza, coke and presents. The pizza was cold and everyone had started eating, thinking that I wasn't going to turn up. I felt terrible for being late, but really appreciated the surprise. Fox - the language school - prepared a great send-off for us, but Amy's going to write about that some other time.

In a class a couple of weeks ago, I introduced the term 'used to' to the students. During a discussion about music, I asked them to put it into practice. The conversation turned to Michael Jackson. "I used to like Michael Jackson's music, but not any more," one student said. "Very good," I replied. "Can anyone else add to that?"

Another student piped up and said without any humour: "Michael Jackson used to be black, but now he's white." "That's right. Michaeal Jackson used to be black, but now he's white," I repeated out of protocol.

Watching a Bolivian football match: Bolivia is football crazy and I was expecting a roaring mass of people to be gathered in Sucre's stadium to watch two of the countries top teams battle it out. The reality was a near-empty stadium, mostly made up of kids offering to shine shoes and women flogging peanuts, watching a bunch of amateurs limp around an unkept pitch. The grass was so long in places that I was surprised that they didn't lose the ball.

The world's largest dinosaur footprint site: Wooo hooo! Dino footprints! The site is in a cement factory, which means that the planet's single most important find from the cretaceous period is owned by some corporate swine. He only stopped his men from digging up the prints because the rock they're set in is no good for making cement.

We donned hard-hats and walked around the site, keeping our distance from the prints - not to stop us from touching them, but because heavy machinery was churning up the rock around them. "There are bigger footprints further along," our guide told us. "But we can't go down there today because the workers are blasting with dynamite."

Building a website for Fox: We spent last weekend throwing together a website for The Fox Academy - it's where we volunteered to teach English and learnt Spanish. Fox is doing a great job teaching Bolivians who can't afford to attend the wealthy language schools and their Spanish teachers are top notch, but the evil Latino Schools Sucre is stealing most of the tourists with their flash building. And they're probably spending the money they take from tourists on kitten-torturing factories, the bastards. (In short, we visted Latino Schools; they were rude, overcharge and don't give anything back to the community, so we don't like 'em).

So we thought we'd help bring down The Man and build Fox a kick-arse (if hastilly put together and basic) website: http://www.foxacademysucre.com.

Pollo Rositas: Surely the eight wonder of the world. How can one fast food restaurant sell the equivilant of a KFC bargain bucket for only 70p and still make a profit? The place gets so rammed that they need security guards to calm the crowds. An old American guy in our hotel loved the place and once told us that after a gallant struggle, he finally managed to finish a portion to himself: "It may have taken me three hours, but god damn it I beat that chicken."

Next step, La Paz: There are still protests in the capital, though we've been told that it's not as bad as the media makes out. Thankfully the gringo district where we'll be staying is protest-free and even in the main square, protests are apparently sporadic. The demonstrators blockade roads to gridlock the city, but they're not all that dedicated and sometimes start late after sleeping in and they usually take Sundays off (there's church to attend, you know). Thankfully, the Bolivian public make pretty laid back protestors, it's just the police have no patience for them.

Don't worry mums - it's still safer than London on a Friday night. (And we'll call in a couple of days).

It's likely that we'll fly from La Paz to Cusco, Peru, at the weekend. We have several friends currently in La Paz so we're looking forward to spending the next few days with them.

There's hell to play in La Paz...

2005-05-25T12:33:00.000Z

But here in Sucre you wouldn't even know that there are riots in Bolivia's capital. I don't know if it's made it to the UK news, but just in case I thought I'd say all is fine in Sucre. You can read more about the protests in this news story.

We had planned to return to La Paz this weekend, but we're going to stick around here for a further week and teach some more English at the school. By then the problems should hopefully die down in La Paz and we can continue on our way to Lake Titicaca and Peru.

It's Sucre's anniversary today and we've been watching military and school parades in the streets. One Bolivian spectator told us that their president is here today, and then slid his finger menacingly across his throat. The president is a pretty unpopular man at the moment and who knows, there might even be a revolution next week. Where's Che Guevara when you need him?

One woven bag, two wall-hangings and a necklace later...

2005-05-21T17:14:00.000Z

Cheeky girl at Tarabuco

We're still in Sucre, learning Spanish and teaching English, and we may be stuck here for a while if the blockades don't let up. The people of Bolivia block the roads whenever the president steps out of line, which they think he did in a big way last week, over the export of Bolivian gas (as this story reports).

Thankfully, Sucre's a lovely place and we have plenty of friends here now. On Sunday we went to Tarabuco market - once a place where people from the surrounding villages met to trade goods, but now a location where tourists get charged crazy prices for tat.

Our bus was held up on the way to the market to allow a bike race to pass. A team of police officers had been employed to stone any stray dogs that wandered onto the road. One dalmation-cross-spaniel came close to causing a cyclist pile-up, but luckily a cop cracked the beast around the head with a pebble just in time. From where I was standing I could see that while the police used stones to drive the dogs over a hill, a bunch of kids stood on the other side, laughing and shooing them back.

When we eventually arrived at the market, we were mobbed by people weighed down with blankets and tapestries. One old lady tied a woven bracelet to my wrist and then demanded money for it. Another approached us, pointed to her bizarre, sparkly, native headgear and said in Spanish: "Look at my hat! You can take my picture for three Boliviano's." I couldn't turn her down.

Photographing people is tough in Bolivia. Everyone wants a picture of a tradionally-dressed lady in a crazy hat and this woman clearly knew her market well. And if you don't ask politely and pay up, you'll only end up with a picture of someone's back.

Laden with handicrafts that will inevitably reveal themselves as a big mistake when we get back to the UK, we returned to Sucre. That evening I became horribly sick. Perhaps it was something I ate. It's the first time I've been ill since leaving the UK last November, so I can finally stop being smug about being immune to native bugs.

Things that happen when you're not paying attention

2005-05-13T13:48:00.000Z

Witches Market in La Paz

You're in a new country, you can't speak the language very well, things occasionally tend to go tits up.

We were in Bolivia's capital, La Paz about to head down to the southern town of Sucre. As we bought the tickets for our comfy bus, we thought it odd that the guy behind the counter was motioning at us to check our backpacks in already when we had ages to go. It's like going on a plane. You check the bags in at a counter and you're given a ticket with which to collect it at the other end. Still it was easier eating horrible 'station cafe' grub without lugging our huge backpacks with us.

So, we headed to board our 7:30pm bus. The first hint of panic came when we handed our tickets to the guard and he stared at us with a shocked look muttering, "salida, salida" and pointing at the door. Jody and I gave each other blank looks but when we headed back to the cashier' s desk to complain about the crazy man, we finally got it.

The bus already left - almost an hour ago! And not only had we wasted our money but our sodding backpacks were still on board! Everything except the clothes we were wearing and passports were in those bags and now there was a distinct possibility we'd never see them again. Complete stupidity turned into blind panic. Our luggage was winging its way across the country on a luxury bus - without us.

The only course of action was to get the next available bus and chase our bags across the country. Unfortunately for us, we were going to have to go 10 hours to Potosi (the highest city in the world and one we'd been trying to avoid) and then find another bus on to Sucre. However, we'd heard so much about the bag thieves in South America that despite the cashier's reassurance that when we got to the other end we'd just have to show the tickets to get the bags back - we were already getting frantic.

And luck definately wasn't on our side. The only other bus leaving that night was a 'normal' coach (very cheap but cramped) and it seemed like every Bolivian in La Paz wanted to get on it. Women with kids, women carrying sacks of Bolivia t-shirts, a group of drunks (who got the back seats and shouted all night) and some old women, who had a row over seats so fierce that the conductor had to get on to calm them down.

When we finally left La Paz two hours late, Jody's legs had already seized up from lack of legroom and we were forced to sit through an hour of a guy screaming through the coach about digestive problems, showing a flip-chart of the internal organs as he tried to flog some 'miracle' cure. I pretended to go to sleep but listened as he was laughed at by the other passengers. Unsurprisingly, nobody bought any. Just as I thought we'd got rid of him and could get some peace, another guy got on selling his answer for back problems.

Eventually, I managed to curl my body onto the seat to doze but I have no trouble sleeping on buses. In fact, I have trouble staying awake! However, the worry of the backpacks kept rousing me and we spent a lot of time disecting the contents of our bag wondering which clothes/books/medicines we'd have trouble living without . Apart from one toilet stop (no loo on board), around 4am at a Bolivian version of a 'Little Chef' (some deserted cafe in the middle of nowhere), at least there were no more disruptions.

Despite the much famed attractions in Potosi, we were so worried about the altitude (4100m) that we practically ran into the bus station there and got the first one we could - staying a possible record of about 15 minutes. We managed to see a few of the city's famous churches as we left. With it being a Sunday, the bus driver treated us to a tape of terrible wannabe singers belting out church songs, probably recorded at his local service the week before. No chance of a nap here then either.

Three hours later, Sucre bus terminal looked deserted. We eventually found a guy manning the 'Trans Copacabana' office and after about five minutes of sign language and us waving the tickets at him, he announced that our bags were in the cargo store across the road. I must have looked thrilled as Jody told me not to relax until we'd seen that they were in fact OUR bags. It was a tense moment, but there at the back of the dusty warehouse were our backpacks. I practically threw the tickets at the man. Sucre's a pretty city, but that day we didn't see any of it - we went straight to bed.

Where are we? Still in Sucre enjoying the warm weather. Someone's bravely given us a voluntary job teaching English to people who can't normally afford to learn. I have a class rowdy 10-year-olds while Jody's teens are angelic by comparison.

Jungle boogie

2005-04-30T16:32:00.000Z

Scarab beetle

See our photos from Rurrenabaque

A tiny, 12-seater plane swept us to the town of Rurrenabaque in the Amazon basin. The views were spectacular as we dodged the Andes mountain range and flew over dense jungle. Three guys at the front of the plane filmed the journey, unwittingly knocking the pilots headset off a few times with their camera lens.

Every gust of wind tossed the plane around and soon we were amidst thick cloud. How does the pilot know where the mountains are? Will we crash land in the jungle and end up eating each other, like in that film Alive? After 15 minutes of dense, milky mist, the pilot saw a break in the clouds and made a dive for it. We touched down on a field in the jungle. An old man raced out waving two fluorescent batons to direct the plane, but managed to drop one in the long grass. By the time he found it again we were climbing out of the plane. Seeing us standing on the grass, the plane motionless, he gave the sticks a little wave anyway.

The airport was a shack - the staff a group of old men drinking lemon juice. The crumbling walls were covered with posters of the Bolivian football team, the contenders for Miss Santa Cruz 2005 and the specifications for a fictional three-storey high Airbus (plane porn). After standing around confused for about an hour, we climbed onto a knackered minibus for a ride into town on a road so rocky it almost shook our eyeballs out.

Rurrenabaque is a great little place full of friendly people, with a few hotels, restaurants and a bar to support the tourists who visit. We ate fish overlooking the River Beni (part of the Amazon river, kinda) and packed ready for the jungle the next day.

Squirrel Monkey!

Our jungle party - us, an Israeli couple, Carlos our guide, Daniel our translator and Nani our cook - arrived at camp after an hour's boat ride up the River Beni, then an arduous trek through the jungle, lugging multiple boxes full of god-knows-what through brooks and undergrowth. It turned out that the boxes were packed with fresh meat and veg - a firm indication of how well we'd be fed over the next two days. Nani threw together a stunning three-course meal straight away, before we headed off into the jungle.

We spotted venomous ants, puma and jaguar tracks and lots of thorny green stuff before returning to camp for another slap-up meal. Our guide then took us for a night-walk up a hellishly slippery path. Amy struggled to keep her balance in the dark and barely saved herself from falling into a ravine before deciding that enough was enough and that we wouldn't go any further. The others continued, leaving us sitting on a log to wait for their return. While we waited silently, we saw the silhouettes of monkeys in the trees. The rest of the group returned having seen nothing. It seems that rushing through the jungle waving torches isn't the best way to spot nocturnal wildlife.

We slept on some wooden slats, a mosquito net draped over us with a thatched roof on stilts keeping us dry in the event of rain. My god did we need that roof on day two.

Branches snapped from the trees in the high winds and rain poured down in buckets as we spent the second day cowering under our small roof. Our cook managed to drape a tarpaulin over some branches above a fire and cook us an amazing stew. She apologised that there was only one course and no rice.

Daniel, our translator, said he once did a jungle trek where a storm raged for four days. "You're lucky," he told the group. "What's so bloody lucky about being stuck in a squalid camp for four days?" someone piped up, to which Daniel replied: "You're lucky I didn't bring my flute."

The trek back to our boat was tough. The small brooks we'd hopped across had turned into raging streams and Amy and I walked barefoot through the jungle to save our boots from filling up. We discovered our boat full of water, but after some bailing it was shipshape again.

Stuck in da mud

The weather brightened up for our three-day Pampas trip that started the following day, but the roads were as muddy as hell. Other tour groups were amused to see our land rover get stuck in two feet of mud before we were towed out again. The Pampas are the Amazon's grasslands and are popular for wildlife spotting. We saw monkeys, sloths, birds, pink river dolphins and alligators from our boat and went horse-riding (a first for both of us) through swamps and jungle.

Many of the horses were past their best - I was surprised that mine made it through the three hours without collapsing. Amy's horse was preoccupied with eating grass and lagged behind the rest of the group for most of the trip, until our guide persuaded Amy to give it a smack on the arse. Suddenly it turned into Red Rum and raced ahead with a terrified Amy gripping the reigns for dear life. The owner had to gallop to catch her and calm the horse down again. Soon it was back to munching grass and Amy didn't complain again.

Where are we? Back in La Paz, though we catch an overnight bus to Sucre in a few hours. Wish us luck.

Sick and tired on the Bolivian salt plains

2005-04-22T19:10:00.000Z

Us on the salt plain

See our Salar de Uyuni pictures.

Amy and I left the Chilean desert town of San Pedro a week ago to catch what I'd dubbed The Gringo Bus. It was the only English-speaking Bolivian salt lake tour and carried 13 people - unlike the Land Rover tours that crammed six people in. The main reason we chose the gringo bus was because it was the only tour that carried oxygen to help counter altitude sickness. Little did we know how much we'd need it.

"We climb from 2,800metres to 4,500metres in one hour," our driver warned in Spanish. The acceptable safe level of ascent is only 300metres per day. If we were going to get sick then we'd surely know about it pretty fast.

The Bolivia border control was effortless, despite warnings from our guidebook. "Border officials are likely to give smartly dressed travellers an easier passage," it advised. Are jeans acceptable, I thought. Should I wear a tie? Perhaps I looked particularly dapper that day because the officers couldn't have been friendlier, singing 'Royal Britannia' when one noticed my British passport.

Upon reaching 4,500metres, I jumped off the bus for breakfast, momentarilly losing my balance as the first signs of a lack of oxygen kicked in. I chugged down three cups of coca tea (the local remedy for altitude problems) and felt fine for the rest of the day up until we visited some geysers at 5,000metres. It was nothing special so I bounded back on the bus... and then it hit me. I felt breathless and sick and was given oxygen to pick me up again. What followed was pure hell until we reached a lower altitude the next day.

When we booked the trip we were warned that two out of every 10 people become seriously ill at altitude. Well that was Amy and me.

Arriving at camp, 4,300metres up, I went straight to bed. Amy was feeling ok, so she went for a walk around a lake. Bad idea! She launched her leg straight through the salty crust of the lake and upon return, exhausted herself trying to dry her boot. That's the strange thing about being at a high altitude - even the simplest task becomes a tiring trial.

Our night was spent gasping for breath, taking the occasional blast of oxygen and - as for Amy - spitting sick into a plastic bag. We were lucky that an Australian doctor we met in San Pedro called Kalpna was travelling with us on the tour. Amy dragged her out of bed at 2am when I couldn't sleep because my heart was racing so fast. We were also shivering from the bitter cold - the Andes aren't known as a hot destination.

Several hours later, I dropped off to sleep, dreaming of how nice it would be to beam ourselves back to a Thai beach - fresh sea air and baking sunshine. I hoped we'd fair better at a lower altitude the next day.

Fish Island cactus

Amy writes:

Unfortunately, the second day also passed in a bit of a blur.

At least the guide didn't lie to us. "We still have to go up a little way, then we go down to 3700m and we stay at that", she announced as we dragged ourselves onto the bus that morning.

What we didn't know until later, was that the 'little way' was back up to 5,000metres although that didn't really matter at the time. We were so weak, we took it in turns to get off the bus to take pictures.

At one point, at the famous 'stone tree', Jody got back on the bus and then five minutes later, couldn't remember having got off and had to check the pictures on the camera for proof! See? It really was that bad...

Thankfully by the third day - the climax of our trip and the highlight as we reached the 'Salar de Uyuni' - we were both feeling more human again. Jody was even talking and the others had stopped refering to us as 'the sick group'.

The Salar de Uyuni is a 10,000km square lake of salt. It's not a lake in the conventional sense of the word, you'd have to dig down through six metres of salt to find water.

When we drove through it, water on parts of the thick salt crust surface was ankle-deep, proven by our group's insistance to paddle barefoot. It was like treading on ice! And the salt crust was painfully hard to walk on. I thought the others were exagerating as I struggled to get out of my boots but then I felt my toes start to freeze. Yelling threats at Jody to hurry up and take the bloody picture, the only reason you can't see the pain on my face is because we had to wear sunglasses to counter what is known as 'salt blindness'.

It is unbelievably bright, harsher in some respects than staring at the sun but what a view! A brilliant white plain as far as the eye can see, with snow-capped mountains on the horizon. Half an hour's drive in, another weird spectacle. An island, full of cacti suddenly comes into view. Fish Island, as it is known, is an oasis in the desert. We puffed our way up to the top of it (the altitude making it's appearence felt for the final time) to survey the view. No-one really knows why cacti grow there but they are giant! Some of the cacti are thought to be over 1,000 years old and still growing.

Later, we got some time to run about on the salt and noticed the vast numbers of people taking their clothes off for naked or near-naked photos! Still not sure what that was all about but a group of topless girls did get a lot of attention. Jody and I thankfully kept our clothes on.

On the way out, we visited a hotel made of salt where we were forced to buy over-priced chocolate on the door to gain entrance. A bizarre photo-op ensued of Jody lounging in various chairs/beds made of the stuff and me licking the wall. I know that salt is bad for you, but when surrounded by miles of the stuff, a tiny bit can't hurt.

When train journeys go bad

2005-04-20T13:26:00.000Z

Llamas and mountains

We were spoilt by the brilliant transport system in Chile. The buses are like spaceships with seats like beds and a host who makes sure you're comfortable by handing out blankets, pillows and food. And don't worry if there's a dispute over luggage at the other end, because the porters have SWORDS. The buses play an endless reel of Hollywood blockbusters (hooray!), sadly dubbed into Spanish (boo!), with silly deep voices (hooray!). Bolivian transport has a lot to answer for, however.

Having just returned from a three-day trek across the Andes to the Bolivian salt lake (more on that another time, but you can see some pictures here) Amy and I contemplated our next move. Should we get the hellish 10-hour bus ride to Sucre (bumpy roads, no toilet stops), or the simple train journey to La Paz? Everyone we met on our salt lake trip was catching the train and I complained that joining them would be taking the easy option and that we should rough it on the bus. Character building and all that. How wrong I was.

We knew that the train ticket office was said to only open an hour or so before the train arrived, so we made a simple plan: enjoy dinner with our new friends, then meander to the station for 10pm, buy tickets, then stroll back to the hotel for our bags, possibly grabbing a drink before boarding the train at midnight.

I will never be able to capture the true despair, boredom, panic and terror of what really happened but I'll try:

8pm - Check station before heading to dinner. Note that people are already queing for tickets. All's well so far.

10pm - Return to station after dinner. Despite the presence of many more hopefully travellers, the ticket booth is still closed. Join the crowd.

10.30pm - Station is filling up fast. Two Brits accuse a large gang of Israeli's of queue jumping. An arguement breaks out. Everyone else is quite pleased with the entertainment.

10.50pm - Two stray dogs enter station and begin fighting. The patient crowd watch silently. I root for the pregnant, white dog. Booth still closed.

10.57pm - I overhear an American describing Machu Pichu as "kinda neat."

11pm - The booth should be open by now. The station is crowded with over 100 cold, frustrated people. Our group grow concerned that if we can't buy tickets soon there won't be enough time to make it back to our hotels to collect backpacks.

11.13pm - I break wind, silently.

11.23pm - Out of complete boredom, the waiting crowd shuffle into a formal queue that leads to a closed ticket booth.

11.24pm - I check my watch for the 58th time.

11.26pm - I contemplate which part of my Swiss Army Knife I've used the least. (Conclusion: probably the toothpick).

11.27pm - Fearing that the space between buying tickets and running to the train will be small, our group organises itself into three teams: one that queues, one that taxis bags from hotels-to-station and another that guards the bags at the station. The process runs like clockwork; the Bolivian train network doesn't.

11.46pm - The train arrives. The ticket booth is still closed.

11.47pm - Ticket booth opens! One man with an ancient ticket-printing machine is all that stands between a crowd of 200 people and a train about to leave in 15 minutes.

11.50pm - A couple of minutes into selling tickets it's apparent that several purchasing cartels have formed - people at the back of the queue are paying those at the front to buy them tickets. Arguements break out, fingers are pointed and 10mins later it's apparent that our group is last in the queue and may not get tickets.

Midnight - The train is due to depart, but being only half full is delayed for 10 minutes. The driver still chuffs up the engine and toots the horn occassionally to send a wave of fear through those still in the queue.

12.15am - Finally, with tickets in hand, our nine-strong group (the only people not already on the train) thunder to the front of the train, toss our bags onto the luggage carriage (with superhuman strength gained from adrenalin), then tear to the other end of the platform, leaping into our carriage as the train pull aways. Some time later when the train reaches it's top speed of 10mph we realise that we could have given it a 15 minute headstart and still caught the bloody thing up.

Where are we? In La Paz, finally. Though we head to the Amazon in a couple of days to get eaten by aligators.

Feliz cumpleanos de mi!

2005-04-10T16:21:00.000Z

Nice guitar, shame about the voice

Yesterday I turned 26 in the cobbled coastal city of Valparaiso. It's a very memorable place because most of the houses are painted bright colours and built on hills so brilliant views all around.

My day started with watching the Royal wedding while eating breakie in our B & B. Yes, we don't miss out on anything here. In fact, it was a welcome change after almost solid coverage of the Pope's death for the last week.

We wanted to really take in the city so spent much of the day losing ourselves in the streets and getting up those hills via the 'ascensores'. They call them lifts but to us it was more like getting in a shed which runs steeply up tracks but get you to the top for about 10p. You didn't think I was going to walk up all those hills!?
Reminded me a lot Sorrento, Italy and it's quaint charm. Just watch out for the dog poo. They love their pups here but have not heard of the 'poop scoop'.

We also discovered the Museo a cielo abierto - literally translated as the 'open air museum' where on one of the hills, the house and streets have been turned into a art gallery and you can do a walking tour of all the exhibits.

All this exercise was followed by an intimate dinner where Jody found a guitarist to embarrass me by singing 'Happy Birthday to you', in espanol of course.

Now we're heading off to the driest desert in the world, San Pedro de Atacama. We're taking plenty of water but we may not post for about a week while we explore the region.

Do the bunny shadow

2005-04-10T16:07:00.000Z

Watch the bunny

Check out this photo I took of a priest statue. He's high on a hill, raising one hand to the people of Valparaiso below. But when the sun is in the right place he makes a rabbit shadow puppet with the same hand.

Well I thought it was clever anyway. Click the picture to see it bigger.

See our other Valpariaso pictures. It's a pretty place, to be sure.

Hola de Chile

2005-04-08T20:42:00.000Z

Reflection of Santiago Cathedral

See our Santiago pictures

Our first few days in South America have been spent in the centre of Chile's dirty great capital, Santiago, in a place called Hotel Plaza Londres. A double room for nine-quid-a-night - far nicer than the 30 quid-a-night crowded dorm we paid the night before in Sydney.

The hotel is a tad eccentric: the one window in our room was boarded up for the first two days we slept there, but today we returned to find that the board had been removed. "Daylight!" we thought, until the hotel handyman painted over the glass to block out the light again.

It may be hard to fathom but hardly anyone speaks a word of English here. Fancy that - a foreign country where we're forced to speak THEIR language. So, you can't work out the restaurant menu? Well it looks like you're eating chicken and chips again, because 'pollo y fritadas' is the only thing you can decipher.

Amy and I have struggled through these past few days pretty well, though we did have a case on our first night when we couldn't get rid of a waiter. We'd yet to finish decoding the menu and needed to buy ourselves more time. 'Two more minutes please' and 'one moment more please' didn't work, so I had to resort to the age-old failsafe of sign language to shoo him away until we'd finished working out our order. (I've yet to resort to the traditional English way of communicating with a foreigner - repeatedly speaking slowly and clearly in English until they understand).

So far the only Chileans we've come across with perfect English were the two con artists we met in the street yesterday. They claimed to be studying medicine at the local university but said they couldn't afford to continue their studies unless we gave them hard cash. Just think of the sick and needy children they'll be unable to help unless we coughed up some money. Despite the duo being a tad mature for starting a medical degree (they were in their 40s), the student card they showed us as proof was so pathetically doctored with absolutely no attempt to make it look authentic that we took pity on them and gave them the aquivilant of 90p just so we could move on.

Other than that particular instance, we've blended in quite well. Yesterday an American approached me and stumbled through a question about the toilets in our hotel, thinking I was Chilean. "Donde est una banos?" he asked. "They're over there, mate," I said.

In Santiago at least, Chileans look and dress just like most Europeans. In fact, we could be in Rome for all we know - especially with all the pictures of the Pope hung through the streets (like Italy, there's a lot of Catholics in Chile and the many churches are stunning).

What have we done in Santiago? Slept alot. The Australia-to-Chile jetlag is a killer. We've also visited the mad house of the Chilean Noble prize-winning poet Pablo Neruda (deceased), browsed some museums and drunk lots of wine. At under a quid a bottle for top quality merlot, who wouldn't?

My precioussssssss

2005-04-02T20:33:00.000Z

We met Andy Serkis!

You hardly expect to see celebrities at the top of mountains in New Zealand, even less so an actor from the most iconic film the country has ever produced. Yet there, putting on his suncream, was Andy Serkis who played Gollum in the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

We'd ridden a cable car up a mountain in Queenstown and spotted him having a coffee with his wife, kids and in-laws. We felt a bit guilty at first by interrupting him during a weekend off work with his family. That'll teach him for being famous.

However, he was very pleasant, pointing out The Remarkables mountain range in the distance as the Mordor range from the films. In return, we gave him some tips for the Luge - a plastic go-kart track we'd just tackled. Was so amazed that immediately afterwards that I had to phone my LOTR-obsessed dad to gloat down the phone (even though it was about 3am in the UK!).

As a gimmick, the cable car operators take your photo on the way up in the hope they can flog it to you once you come down again. As we passed the photos at the bottom, my eyes drifted from ours to a grumpy-looking Serkis with his brood. I thought about buying it but Jody dragged me away claiming I was turing into a stalker...

Wanaka lake at sunset

Jody writes:

We met Meriel and her friend Sarah in Auckland the other day. They're a few weeks into a three-month holiday through New Zealand and Asia.

After spending five months travelling, meeting up with an old friend felt like a flashback to a former life. As we're now half-way through our trip and about to embark on the next big chunk of our journey - South America - a drink with an old mate is what we needed. We also got the lowdown on the things our friends haven't told us since we left. Some of the gossip was a shock!

Where are we? Back in Sydney, strumming our fingers until we fly to Chile on Monday. The silly thing is that our Chile flight goes via Auckland (where we were this morning), but the airline wouldn't let us get on there so we've had to fly all the way back to Oz to catch the Chile flight. I suppose we are in the land of boomerangs after all.

Amy and I are looking forward to staying in countries where we can afford a double room again. To save money, we've mostly been in crowded dorms in Australia and New Zealand and it's driven us crazy. And with five months of travelling without so much as a sneeze or tummy bug so far (even though we wolfed down ice, sushi and salad in Asia, despite warnings from home), South America will be the ultimate test for our bellies. Bring it on!

Swimming in circles

2005-03-28T22:24:00.000Z

Flippin' flipper

The Beatles' Love me do wasn't successful nor my fav ditty, Ye canne shove yer granny off a bus, but humming Somewhere over the Rainbow through my snorkel worked a treat - as countless Dusky Dolphins swum underneath me entranced by the tune. It wasn't my Judy Garland singing voice, that's for sure but whatever it was - even just the exhausting effort of swimming and singing while trying not to drown, I got within inches of these strange sea mammals. I'm sure if nothing else the sight of me and another 22 human-adults all squeeking/singing/humming away and trying to swim in circles to catch the interest of passing dolphins at least gave the staff and spectators on our boat some entertainment if not the dolphins themselves.

The concept of swimming with dolphins is pretty common though I'd hardly class it as swimming 'with' them. More like trying to catch up and enjoy the experience as they swim past in their droves. We were very lucky - there must have been around 300 dolphins in the water that day but the idea you are actually communicating and being with them is a myth. These are wild dolphins. You can't touch or grab onto their fins as you see in films and it's pretty exhausting work trying to hum (as described above) while trying not to swallow too much saltwater as you do, swim in circles (to imitate their behaviour and get them to interact with you) without getting dizzy and as for taking photos - forget it!

I should have learnt by now that underwater cameras are a waste of time. Not only because of the shoddy picture quality but being able to concentrate long enough to get a decent shot. I can now unequivocially say that in this instance that was impossible. You had to keep moving or lose the dolphins/freeze in the icy waters. You couldn't aim the camera properly as the dolphins swum so close you might accidently touch one and startle it. At least Jody and I had a good laugh looking at all the random snaps I'd got. A few foggy ones of whole dolphins, plus various body parts. A stomach, head, fin, one of my blurry snorkel. At least it shows they were there. A brilliant one of the only dolphin who caught my eye and stayed long enough for me to snap it. The best photos were taken from the boat when the dolphins started showing off. Dusky Dolphins are well-known for their acrobatic prowess though no-one really knows why they like doing flips and jumps so much. A great one-off experience and hopefully the last time I will ever be seen in a wet suit.

Not done too many other big water-based activities yet except previously Tubing in Waitomo on the North Island. This consists of climbing around underground in caves wearing a wetsuit, having to wade up to your neck in freezing underground rivers then sitting on to a big, rubber inflatable tyre and floating along in the dark under a ceiling of glowing maggots. Very odd indeed.

Brains over braun

2005-03-28T22:03:00.000Z

Puzzling World illusion room

After a recent spate of adventurous activities, Jody and I found our feet again (briefly) at the strange-but-true world that is Puzzling World in Wanaka - a theme park dedicated to all aspects of puzzles and illusions (not just the 500-piece-bowl-of-fruit-with-a-bit-of-grape-missing variety). See it's website.

Strangely, most of the visitors were adults who were pulling confused faces as they fought to get out of the attraction's giant maze. In the huge labyrinth of bridges and paths, we quickly abandoned the 'advanced' challenge of finding four turrets in colour order, for simply trying to find them at all and make it out of there before lunch. Not such a bold move you're thinking, but the emergency exits were there for a reason. We didn't cheat (unlike the under-7's we saw sneaking away from their parents and under a fence) but we didn't look smug for very long.

Puzzling World also had a series of baffling illusion rooms (which included the toilets! - see picture). One in which, to my delight and for the only time it's ever going to happen, I was taller than Jody (at least on screen!). In fact, I more resembled the BFG (minus the funny ears) while Jody was hobbit-sized. The 'tilted house' was another strange place with water that appeared to flow upwards with everything at an angle. It's so strong an effect that we both felt sick and had to leave for a while, before going back to snap some evidence of this odd place.

Currently we're puzzling over the Inca Trail of Peru. Jody's very keen on walking the entire four-day hike to Machu Picchu but after the Tongariro Crossing, I'm worried about the grief all those steps will give my knees. Well, I'll either do it (and face the consequences) or take the train up and see Jody at the top.

As Jody mentioned previously, the Tongariro Crossing was bizarre and brilliant at the same time. Unfortunately for me, there is no gain without pain so the amazing views witnessed from the top of the 1800m red crater were not without their price as I hobbled around later that evening. Muscles in my hips and calves that had never made their presence known before had seized up, making me look like someone recovering from surgery. However, although the up-cliff bits were a slog (with a breather every five minutes), the moon-like landscape surpasses anything I've ever seen before.

An ascent of 750m over three hours then a downhill of three and a half hours and believe me, everyone looks crippled at the end. The not-quite-there-yet final few hours are steps down through bracken and heather-covered hills that could almost be Scotland were it not for the sulphur springs on them, breathing hot steam up through the grass. You get to the bottom, think it's all over that there's a nice bus ride, spa and hostel bed waiting - but no! Still another hour through muddy forest 'til you hit the car park.

I'm not a great walker. Uphill had me puffing away while going downhill either had me slipping on volcanic ash and falling on my arse, or by the end hobbling through the bush saying for the 43rd time that this bit had to be the end. It was relentless but this was Mordor country, land of the Orcs and Mt Doom (or Mt Ngaruhoe as it's also known), and like Frodo - we live to tell the tale.

Heli-hiking the Fox Glacier

2005-03-26T16:23:00.000Z

Us in a whopping great ice tunnel

See our Fox Glacier photos.
See our Milford Sound photos.

Amy and I treated ourselves to a heli-hike at the Fox Glacier - the cheaper option meant more walking and lesser scenery, so like a couple of snobs we flew to where the ice was pure.

It was the first time we'd been in a helicopter and the experience was strange at first. It felt more like being in a lift than in a plane. I've never been a bad flyer, but I'll admit that a sense of impending doom stuck with me for the journey to the top of the mountain - especially when the craft banked at mad angles. The crazy logistics of how a helicopter actually works doesn't really pass ones mind until you first take off in one. Then the realisation hits you that the only thing keeping the tin box you're in airbourne is a bunch of silly spinning blades.

At least if the engines failed in a plane the craft could glide until the pilot found a giant mattress to crash land on, but a helicopter experiencing engine failure would just drop straight out of the sky like a sparrow having a heart attack. Initial thoughts aside, the flight was fast, scenic and a real kick.

The glacier itself was as you'd imagine - a vast stretch of blue/white ice, supporting hills, caves, tunnels, streams and ponds. The area was beautiful and at points terrifying - we walked alongside deep drops onto steely-hard ice, or worse still, chasms filled with ice-cold water that plunged so deep into the glacier that it appeared bottomless.

It was a great experience and we're glad we flew to the top of the mountain, rather than climbing - we had a tough enough job keeping our balance on slight hills, so climbing would have been a nightmare.

After Fox we took the bus to the small town of Wanaka, which was also beautiful (are you noticing a theme yet?). While there we visited a kooky little place called the Paradiso Cinema - legend has it that the locals clubbed together to build a cinema but had run out of cash when it came to furnishing the place, so they were forced to fit the interior with second-hand armchairs, sofas, lazy-boys and even a Morris Minor. Amy and I opted for a knackered old sofa. The experience was like watching a film in someone's living room (with 100 other people, also slouched in loungers). The food was bloody great there too - cookies as big as yer 'ead. See a photo I took of the Paradiso cinema.

The weather was terrible when we went to Milford Sound yesterday. The place is arguably said to be the most beautiful place in New Zealand, but all we saw was fog on our two-hour boat trip. At first I thought the weather was a blessing in disguise - the rainfall had given life to a number of waterfalls that are normally dry, but no, it was too bloody foggy to see anything. You win some, you lose some - at least it wasn't raining when we were slipping about on the glacier.

We're currently in Queenstown (again, beautiful), but fly back to Auckland tomorrow for a week of panic-buying and Spanish revision before we head to South America on April 4.

Hair Horror?

2005-03-26T16:01:00.000Z

Who is this woman?

***Newsflash***
One half of the infamous travelling twosome, Amy and Jody, has undergone a shocking transformation in preparation for the South American leg of their journey.
Almost unrecognisable, the female half of the duo has gone from cute blonde to raven-haired in a bid to blend in with the locals for safe passage through the Peruvian Andes, Equador and Bolivia.
The advice came from a fellow female traveller just home from the continent. Amy was also keen on the move to avoid a repeat of the behaviour of local men in Malaysia who sat outside hissing and rubbing their fat bellies at passing western women.

Walks, whales and glaciers

2005-03-21T11:36:00.001Z

Emerald Lakes, 1,750m up (ish)

See our New Zealand photos.

If I were a god and wanted to purpose-build a seven-hour trek, with volcanoes, lakes, tarns (glacial lakes), forests and mountains at my disposal, I couldn't have done a better job than the Tongariro Crossing. We walked it the other day - it was stunning and knackering. Amy and I climbed from 1,150m above sea level to 1,886m, then descended to 700m. We passed Mt. Ngauruhoe, which was used as Mt. Doom in Lord of the Rings, but the path to it's 2,287m summit was too intimidating to climb. Instead we just stared at it for a while. And posed for photos in front of it.

We were lucky that the conditions were good - if you're unfortunate enough to have rain, mist, wind and snow to deal with, you'll probably have a terrible time, as Emily said she did in this message.

I may have enjoyed the walk a little too much. If when I return to the UK I grow a beard, clad myself in Gore-tex and start looking to join a weekend rambling club, someone please stop me.

A few days after Tongariro, we crossed to New Zealand's South island and ended up in Kaikoura. While Amy swam with dolphins, I decided to join a team of whale watchers in Kaikoura. Chasing along the ocean to find the whales before rival tour companies scared them off was fun, but the whales we found were young and therefore pretty small and unimpressive.

Perhaps I shouldn't have relied on Moby Dick to teach me everything I know about whales, but I expected the beasts to rise up from the water, wink at me with one giant eye while spirting a ten-storey high fountain of water from it's blowhole. It would then dive, waggling it's tail for a good minute, while I rummaged around for my camera before it disappeared. What I actually saw was three adolescent whales poking a lilo-sized hump out of the water before they sank without a trace.

The 50-strong gang of dolphins that followed us around and the plethora of seals and sea birds spotted along the way made up for it though. And the old ladies being sea-sick was also quite amusing.

In Christchurch we celebrated St Patrick's Day with far too much Guinness and went shopping for some hideous traveller's clothes. Amy and I are now the proud owners of two micro-fleeces. If you've never come across one before, I can tell you that they're very warm, weigh next to nothing and are so uncool that they make dungarees seem like a good idea. We had to do it - we've run out of bag space for warm clothes.

Yesterday we caught the TranzAlpine train from Christchurch to Greymouth, which was another four-and-a-half hours of stunning scenery. We stood out on an outside viewing platform taking in the views, until the train charged through a tunnel and we were blasted with soot. The train ran on coal until it was converted to diesel in the 60s and we were coated in the aftermath of the spent fuel, which made us look like a pair of grubby chimney sweeps.

Today we're seeing the Fox glacier the posh way - we're catching a helicopter to the top, then milling round on the ice and browsing down at the peasants who only shelled out for a hike around the bottom.

Au revoir Oz

2005-03-19T15:34:00.000Z

Sydney smacker - Amy and Nana

See all of our Australia photos

I know it's not good to backtrack but this is the first time I've properly been on a computer in over a month. So odd, almost forgotten how to tpye...

Just wanted to pop in my highlights (and lowlights) of Oz - before we close that chapter forever.

Kangaroo Island - A wee island off the coast of Adelaide, south Australia that's just teaming with wildlife. It turned the two of us into David-Bellamy-type animal enthusiasts for our two day stay as we spent every waking moment scouring the bush for native creatures. We were lucky to capture a rare glimpse of the elusive Echidna (so cute!), and one of only two egg-laying mammals in the world. We were also thrilled by a walk on the beach at Seal Bay where we were able to observe wild Australian sea lions only a few metres away. They didn't seem to be bothered about groups of tourists wandering nearby as they slept on the sand. And the cute pups chased seagulls for our amusement.

Uluru (Ayers Rocks to you and me) - was Bluergh! Spent the three-day trip googly-eyed as I couldn't sleep due to freak cold weather and grit in my eye (don't ask!). Let's just say after two nights of lying awake with numb icy fingers and toes, I was pretty grumpy. Think I was so concerned with staying awake, the rock didn't impress me as much as it might have.

Sydney - Just beautiful! My cousin Jenny got married which was a fantasic day then Jody and I dragged my grandmother around for the rest of the week sightseeing. The harbour/opera house I think were Jody's highlights. Good pics all round. Mine was the Sydney Harbour Bridge Climb - a 3-hour walk right to the top of the bridge wearing this highly unattractive grey jumpsuit. You aren't even allowed to take tissue up with you, let alone a camera. This is because traffic and people using the bridge below probably wouldn't appreciate it if I were to accidentally drop something on their car/head.

New Zealand is such a different place and there's so much more to write but so little time, in fact no time right now. Ah, the story of my life. C'est la vie!

Hobbiton, New Zealand

2005-03-09T13:27:00.000Z

Us in Bilbo Baggin's shack

See our Hobbiton pictures.

The Lord of the Rings score boomed through our bus stereo as we headed to Hobbiton. Brochures featuring authentic replicas of swords, armour and the One Ring (now mass-produced in a variety of styles to suit all occasions) from the films was passed round the bus. We'd booked a tour to the set Peter Jackson used as the location for the Hobbit's village in The Fellowship of the Ring. Neither Amy or I are big LOTR devotees, but we knew it would make her dad, Malcolm, damn jealous.

There are loads of LOTR tours now in New Zealand but this is the only one where sets are still standing. On all the others you just have to trust the guides when they say, "See that mountain up there? That's Mount Doom, that is."

We were surprised at how good the tour was. There was only one diehard LOTR fan who must have taken 300 pictures (admittedly, we probably took 100), but sadly no one came dressed as Gandalf. I thought about it, but I didn't have space in my weekly budget to shell out for a cloak and white beard.

The site was huge. The crew had gone to great effort to remove every trace of New Zealand - dressing up native trees with extra branches and leaves to make them look like English oak. We posed for photos in front of tens of Hobbit houses that upon review, all look pretty much the same. We also hugged The Party Tree. And stepped in lots of sheep poo.

After the tour we fed some sheep that the farmer keeps as pets. These lucky lambs live a life of luxury and will never end up in the supermarket. Two dippy girls accompanied us on the tour and realising that the pet sheep had names, asked whether the other 1,200 sheep the farmer owns have names too. They're probably referred to as 'meat,' I thought.

Amy was bitten on her EYELID by a mosquito the other day (ouch!). Noticing her bulging eyelid, our Hobbiton guide offered some advice on bringing down the swelling. Apparently it's an old Maori remedy to rub a gold ring (the One Ring, perhaps?) on swollen eyes to cool them. Hokum maybe, but it was a much more pleasant solution than the other Maori advice offered by a passing woman the other day. "Rub urine into your eye," she said. Though I offered to help out however I could, Amy's sticking to antibiotics.

I'm really enjoying New Zealand. The place is beautiful - it's all hills and livestock. Yesterday Amy and I went to Hell's Gate - a geothermic national park with a spa tacked to the side of it. We wandered around bubbling mud pools and breathed in the sulphuric waters (which blow-out eggy steam) and later went for a mud bath and spa - both heated by steam piped from the Earth's crust. It was beyond relaxing - we felt utterly knackered for the rest of the day and I had to have a nap in the afternoon. I was thinking of having a beer at lunchtime too, but that would have probably finished me off and forced me into a coma.

We leave Rotorua today and start making our way towards Wellington and then the South island. We've got a seven-hour hike through Tongariro National Park to look forward to before we reach our destination on Sunday.

Goodbye Oz, hello NZ

2005-03-06T18:48:00.000Z

Sniffy 'roo on Kangaroo Island, Australia

When we waved goodbye to Australia we thought that we'd also be waving goodbye to warm weather, but it's been really warm for us on New Zealand's North island as we stalk around in the jeans we just bought. I would revert back to summer clothes, but my pack is so full that I can't fit all my cold weather stuff in at once. I was so happy to find a hoodie in the sale in Sydney that I bought it without thinking how much bloody space it would take in my backpack. Balancing pack-load and finding inventive places in the bedroom to dry laundry are two of the less glamorous tasks when travelling.

We arrived in Auckland on Wednesday, staying with Amy's relatives, Lily, Cliff and Eugene, for a couple of days. They were extremely kind and kept us well fed and entertained. Lily is an 80-year-old (or there abouts) soap star and occasionally appears in Shortland Street (it used to be on daytime ITV in the UK, but was axed) and a few other things. She cares for her step father, Eugene, who celebrates his 100th birthday this year. He was a top bloke and brilliant painter until he quit a couple of years back. He still manages to get around and although he doesn't say much, giggles through his beard watching slapstick comedy on TV.

We're currently on a bus tour of NZ's North island with a company called Stray. The tour ground to a halt today when the bus broke down and the whole group of 25 people were stranded at a farm. Luckily, the bus company knew the owners, who plied us with beer, took us strawberry picking and fed us apples until the bus was fixed, some three hours later. They kept dropping jokes about how quickly our group could clear their orchard if we helped them do an afternoon's apple picking, though I felt it was more of hint than a joke. We didn't oblige.

Anyway, I'm feeding coins into a hungry slot to keep this computer running so I'll leave it at that. Internet cafes are few and far between which explains why it's been so long since we posted anything. We'll get some more pictures up one day too. Hope you're all well.

Everybody needs good Neighbours

2005-02-17T20:02:00.000Z

Harold, the fat old letch.

February 14. Valentines Day! And what did we do? Amy dragged me to a bloody Neighbours night in an English theme pub in Melbourne. It sounded like a laugh - for A$35 each we'd get to meet the guy who plays Harold Bishop plus another two lesser stars, Dr Karl Kennedy's band would play some live music and everyone would take part in a big pub quiz. We thought it would be cheesy and funny and we'd meet lots of like-minded people who weren't really into Neighbours but went for a giggle - after all, Danielle and Emily went to the same night when they were in Oz and they enjoyed it. Well, we weren't betting on the sad fan-base that turned up.

When the three stars arrived, the crowd erupted like Elvis had risen from the grave. The two girls we'd met in the queue, ate dinner with and played the pub quiz with seemed fine until 'Stuart' appeared (I don't know their real names), reducing them and the rest of the girls in the crowd to screaming banshees.

One girl pleaded: "Do you think I can win him away from his girlfriend?" Of course you can't you stupid bint. She later got jealous whenever he posed for a photo with another punter. Psycho.

I also had an argument with a bloaty bouncer when he told me off for sitting on a ledge in the pub. "Find me a chair then fatty, or tell me why the pub's sold twice as many tickets than it has chairs" (only people seated were allowed to take part in the quiz - I later stole a chair from another group while they were busy mobbing Harold). In truth I was just trying hard to get chucked out as an excuse to leave early, but it didn't work. The bouncer (who was incidentally the spitting image of Toadie) could hardly throw his own weight through the doors, let alone another person's.

At least the three present cast members were friendly. 'Harold' was a dirty old letch who couldn't keep his eyes off all the young ladies, 'Stuart' was doing a fine job at enduring kisses from the 200 booze-breath girls that mobbed him all night and 'Steph Scully,' well, Steph Scully was pissed and seemed to really be enjoying herself.

"Do you like doing these public appearances?" Amy asked Steph.
"The alcohol helps," she replied, before doing that drunk thing where you're standing perfectly still but somehow lose your balance for no reason whatsoever and have to grab a table for support.

In the end it was fun, though I think we'll skip the Ramsey Street tour.

Where are we? We've spent the past week in Melbourne, seeing the sights and shopping. We went to the massive, free annual St Kilda music festival on Sunday - a day where several thousand people walk round and round the city trying to find a music stage. When we found one, it was great fun (shockingly, some Aussie bands are good and play more than just 'Land Down Under').

We've just invested in a flashy new digital camera, which is very stupid considering that we're going to South America in just over a month and will get it nicked before we've even stepped off the plane.

Coober Pedy

2005-02-08T20:09:00.000Z

Don't walk backwards!

We were surprised to see that Amy and I made up two thirds of the passengers on our trip from Alice Springs to Adelaide. At least we had plenty of room to stretch out during the 20 hours of driving, packed into two days.

And so we watched out of the window as the red earth of the Northern Territory gradually turned to white as we headed to the opal mining town of Coober Pedy, where I spent my birthday. There wasn't much there - a few restaurants, a couple of pubs, a discarded model spaceship from a failed Val Kilmer film called Red Planet, or something. My birthday present from the girlfriend was a sky-gazing tour - a barmy local man drove us out to the desert and pointed out constellations for a couple of hours, which I'll endeavour to remember so I can bore people with their names for years to come. We slept in a large, underground dorm which was basically a cave with beds in. A bomb could have gone off outside and we wouldn't have heard it.

See some of our Coober Pedy pictures.

We're currently in Adelaide and took a Groovy Grape wine tour yesterday, which was a lot of fun. Our group were a really great bunch and we each got through about 30 varieties of white, red, desert wine and port by the end of the day. We still made it to the pub afterwards, though. What did I learn about wine? That it makes you feel sick if you drink a lot of it.

On the way back, our tour bus broke down on a busy roundabout and we had to climb out and push start it (see photo), which helped work off some of the booze.

Red earth - view from a bus

2005-02-08T20:00:00.000Z

Red earth

(Strange that hundreds of miles of countryside can be so inspiring...)

Miles of red dirt
barren bush-covered scrubland
few trees
under this vivid blue-white sky.

The odd over-priced Roadhouse
To some, an oasis in the desert.

In the distance,
magnificent hills break up
the overwhelming flat-ness of the surround.
Suddenly, we turn a corner.
A surprise to all.
You encounter so few on the famously long, straight outback roads.

A road sign
informs us that our destination,
Tom Price, the iron-ore mining town is 287 kms away.
We drive on.

To me, it all seems like a barren wasteland.
Beautiful in all it's red dusty glory
but all the same, empty and dry.
Trees stand hunched and cracked
like withered old men trying to stand.
I wonder how aboriginal people
could survive this harsh, hot terrain.
This expanse is their homeland
They lived on what we see as nothingness.
Hot, dry and burnt red earth.

Over the Ashburton river before lunch,
apart from the sign you wouldn't have known.
Sun blaring down
this river's as dry as a bone
nothing around except dry rock and stone.

Onward, inland.
Sky darker, clouds heavy
the bare trees seem to reach upward here
beging for a drink.
Land is richer, greener at their toes.
A light shower could save them.

Red earth asks for nothing
and wants nothing in return.

The rock

2005-02-04T17:03:00.000Z

Jody, Amy; cold at the Uluru sunrise

I've uploaded some more Australia photos.

We're currently in Alice Springs, having just returned from a three-day tour of the sights around Uluru (Ayers Rock). Uluru itself was ok - it's just a big rock, innit? We walked around it at warp speed because it was so bloody cold that morning compared to what we've grown used to (it was probably about 32C, rather than 46C). The base walk is said to take two or three hours, but we jogged round in an hour-and-a-half. We didn't climb the rock out of respect / laziness.

Kings Canyon was stunning, however.

Tomorrow we take the Groovy Grape bus to Adelaide, with an overnight stopover at the backward hick town of Coober Pedy, where everyone lives in caves underground. It was also where Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome was filmed, so it must be good.

Long live the Prince!

2005-01-27T20:24:00.000Z

We meet royalty

While many could claim to feel like the 'king' of their own castle (or modest semi-detached), it's not often that you meet a former farmer who actually owns his own country right in the middle of Australia. But we did.. Yes, even other sites will confirm it's true.

Almost 35 years ago, Prince Leonard Casley (as he is now known), after a wrangle with the Australian government over his wheat crop managed to outwit them and secede making his farmland an independant sovereign state. The Hutt River Province principality is about the size of Hong Kong but while 13,000 people worldwide have citizenship only about 30 of them actually live there. How do you become a citizen? Cough up $500. For that sum, the key to the kingdom is yours and you get an official passport as well.

Residents don't pay any taxes making the prospect of living there much more inviting, but with nothing around for hundreds of miles you'd have to either be a recluse, or work in the gift shop. Although you'd have to fight Princess Shirley (his wife) for the job.

The Prince and Princess have an eccentric life to say the least. Running your own country is a full-time occupation, I was told by a tired-looking Princess Shirley. Their sons have taken over the farming side of things while they concentrate on state visits, processing overseas citizenship, residency and knighthoods; appointing people to represent the Province worldwide, getting the website updated, running the government office and the post office. For a couple who must be reaching their eighties, it's a pretty mean feat.

The first warning that this was going to be a strange experience was coming up the long driveway and passing an imposing stone bust of Prince Leonard's head (complete with lazy eye). I was the first one out of the coach marching up to the elderly man, my hand outstretched. We Brits were going to make a good impression! And, it was we who felt like royalty when the great man himself treated our group to the grand tour. Into the government building we went to get our passports stamped and checked - when we get home I'll prove it!

Obviously just a ploy for the bemused tourists rather than for security purposes, he scanned all our passports then showed us the symbols on each of them that only showed up under UV lighting to prove they were legitimate. On mine and Jody's, welsh daffodils appeared on the pages and a sunrise lit up the background of Angkor Wat on our Cambodian visa.

The Prince gave a history of Hutt River and showed us the vast collections of currency, stamps, gems, paintings etc that they've amassed over the years. However, he spoke so fast and without pause for breath that it was clear that he'd made this speech a hundred times before. I think it gets faster every time. The entire speech was all-one-sentence-and-the-same-tone-of-voice that even us native English speakers had trouble following him. Of course this meant that the 80% of our group whose second language was English didn't understand a word and spent most of the time staring open-mouthed. At least, we all got our pictures taken standing in front of the flag once he'd donned his more regal attire, and got to raid the gift shop for Hutt River Province official stamps and money (so we'll never forget his face).

Where are we? About to head south through the red centre of Australia. It's our last day in Darwin today though all we've really seen here is the inside of shops and swimming pools as it's low season and nothing's open because of the sticky wet season heat. They must have all fled to cooler climes. We've just returned from an errand to buy sleeping bags for camping. See, we're proper travellers now!

A kangaroo bit me!

2005-01-27T16:26:00.000Z

Kangaroos in the shade

Thankfully, it was only a small one. The big 'roos are taller than me and could easily beat me in a fight. Here's a picture of the incident as it happened. I hope this ends the series of animals that bite me before the list includes crocodile.

I've updated the bite-o-metre accordingly.

You can see all our latest Australia pictures now. It's the first chance I've had to upload a set, since Australian internet access is strangely harder to find and more basic than in Asia.

A deadly snake (almost) bit me!

2005-01-27T15:56:00.000Z

Jody's new snake-dodging tactic

"There's a snake crawling out of our room," I announced as the green and red creature slowly slithered out of the tin shack we'd been asigned. We were spending the night in an outback sheep station as part of an organised tour travelling up the West coast of Australia. "It's head's thinner than it's body. I bet it's poisonous," I continued, repeating information I'd heard that day but still not really believing we'd see a dangerous snake, which is why I was only standing a couple of feet away from the thing.

A minute later, a small circle of people from our tour had gathered behind me, watching the snake. Then our guide came over and told us to run. We didn't. We just took a couple of steps back and kept watching, reaching for our cameras before he grabbed a rock and a stick and beat the beast to death. Which took some doing.

Our guide (a top bloke from Red Earth Safari who grew up in the outback and was only happy when we were stuck in the middle of nowhere) told us it was a Mulga snake. Pretty, yet highly venomous with "the largest recorded venom output of any snake," according to this website. There wasn't a house - let alone a hospital - around for miles and had it bitten one of us, we'd have been screwed. It was an excellent start to the evening.

During dinner we were joined by a huntsman spider, which is also (of course) highly lethal, but thankfully it's fangs aren't sharp enough to penetrate adult human skin. Why such small creatures pack enough venom to kill a horse when they only eat insects is beyond me.

After a few songs around the campfire we decided to sleep in the open air. With no light for miles around, the stars were brighter than I'd ever seen before.

A quokka bit me!

2005-01-19T20:12:00.000Z

Watch out for the fangs!

It was 10 or so days back and Amy and I were trying hard to befriend one of the fat-arsed marsupials that live on Rottnest island (here's a cute, close-up photo of one). When a Dutch explorer discovered the island in 1696, he mistook the quokkas as king-sized rats, thus it's name, in English, 'rats nest'. So for us it was essential to track some down and coax them out for photographs.

It was all going fine until the little bugger bit my finger. No blood was drawn, but for a moment I thought that the 120 quid I shelled out for rabies jabs might have been worth it.

Where are we? We're currently staying in Coral Bay and settled here after a six-day tour up the west coast with an excellent local company called Red Earth Safaris. Coral Bay is small, with one hostel, a few shops, two cafes, a pub and a couple of restaurants. Today was the first day that it's been cool enough to lay in the sun on the beach - it's unbelievably hot here and reached 46C yesterday.

Yesterday we got up early to see reef sharks and sand sharks from the shore, before wading out to get close to them. It's perfectly safe, Mum - they're very timid and scatter at the slightest movement.

We haven't seen many computers, which is why the blog has become neglected, but we'll try and upload a few photos and write some more before we leave on Friday. Otherwise, just take it that we're having a good time and are too busy to write.

Singapore kitsch

2005-01-06T22:58:00.000Z

The big bad Giant Buddha

See our Singapore photos.

I've finally had time to upload some Singapore photos. We were only on the island for a couple of days. The place is amazingly clean and looks like it was only built yesterday. This is mainly due to the multiple fines that are exercised. We had to bin our chewing gum before crossing the border (it's banned because it stains pavements) and after two months of sprinting across busy roads (the usual practice in Thailand and Malaysia), we had to restrain ourselves in Singapore, or feel the wrath of a hefty jaywalking penalty.

Although it's spotlessly clean, there is a downsize to a nanny state: condescending government posters. I took a photo of a public information poster that I found near a food hall. Helpful instructions such as "wash hands regularly" and "spit, cough and sneeze into tissue" really put those suited workers on their lunch break in their place.

We visited several different temples of different faiths in Singapore, but the Temple of 1,000 Lights will always stick in my mind. Most temples are tasteful, but this is like Buddhism-meets-Vegas. The interior is dominated by a giant concrete buddha surrounded by a Ready Brek-glow of almost a thousand lightbulbs. Tourists have to pay 5 Singapore dollars (almost two quid) for the caretaker to switch them on. We didn't bother. In another corner sits a wheel of fortune. We shelled out 50 cents each to experience the pleasure of spinning the wheel to reveal our fortune (see photo). Our wheels both stopped on 'snake' - what it meant, I can't remember.

After discovering our destiny, we climbed up the giant buddha's arse to literally enter the statue's bowels. Inside was another statue of buddha, this time reclining. The place wouldn't have been stranger if there was a helter skelter around the big concrete fella's gut.

We also went to Raffles Hotel - the birthplace of the Singapore Sling - and sunk a couple of the overpriced cocktails. It was rammed with tourists doing the same thing, other than a couple of guys on beer (obviously they weren't man enough to handle a bright pink cocktail). Patrons are encouraged to eat peanuts and toss the shells on the floor - I'm not sure why and neither was the waiter I asked, but I think it was something to do with the British who originally frequented the swanky hotel finding it amusing to pretend to be peasants and litter the place. The result is a steady crunch of shells wherever you walk, with finches darting in now and again to sift through the debris.

Where are we? We're still in Perth, but on Monday we head slowly North to Broome (where temperatures are topping 38°C, dammit!), seeing sights along the way.

Tsunami news

2005-01-06T18:11:00.000Z

This blog has received a lot of traffic from people searching Google to try and find out news of how certain places (guesthouses, etc.) faired in the tsunami. If you're searching for news, we found a website with news of people from businesses on Ko Phi Phi and Amy emailed Ko Lanta's Merry Hut, which received damage to it's bar and restaurant, but no one was hurt and the accomodation was untouched.

Think of the kittens

2005-01-04T21:55:00.000Z

Ko Phi Phi kitten

As the search continues for people lost in last week's tsunami, I'd like to take time to mention the kittens that lived outside our bungalow on Ko Phi Phi and how we hope that they made it through the storm.

I first mentioned them in a post a month back and our fondest memory will be when after a nasty downpour we returned to our room to find a bedraggled kitten sheltering beneath our sarongs outside (pictured left).

Everyone knows how cats hate water, so we hope the manky felines made it to higher ground in time. They were only a few weeks old after all.

Happy New Year!

2005-01-01T20:34:00.000Z

And g'day from Perth, the capital of western Australia.

We arrived here two days ago and because of the festivities, all we've seen of Perth so far has been the inside of a few shops and Kings Park at night (so really we've not seen much of it, it was too dark).

But we had a great new year's eve. They're a fun bunch at our hostel, The Witch's Hat and our NYE was an evening of drunken revellery at our hostel and on the hill at Kings Park, overlooking the rest of the Perth skyline with about 30 European, Japanese and Australian peeps. A really random fun night of chat, distant fireworks, a loud rendition of Auld Lang Syne and "massage" conga.

Amazingly, we've been drinking much of New Year's Day too. The boxes of cheap plonk left out from yesterday were just too tempting. Tomorrow starts our sightseeing here, and then we'll move on. We've met a few people chartering cars, who we could travel with. North or south? Who knows...

Riding out the Rainforest

2004-12-27T18:58:00.000Z

A view from the jungle

For those of you who know us quite well, you'll agree that Jody and I aren't really the outdoors type. Yes, we like a good BBQ in the garden, a stroll in the park but normally we're much more at home with indoor pursuits which is why four days in the Cameron Highlands, Malaysia's foremost jungle trekking and hiking destination may seem like a bit of a strange choice.

I was definately not expecting mountains, rolling hills and Swiss-style buildings which made you feel like you were in a scene from "The Sound of Music".

However, we still got stuck in. We're stayed in the strangest place (Father's Guest House) where the rooms are in old tin-roofed bunkers like air-raid shelters above ground. It was comfortable though and cosy under our thick fleece blankets at night. Yes, it was bloody freezing!

On our first full day, Jody and I attempted a walk in the rainforest on the trail known as 9a. The trails are quite well worn but some are still a bit high, slippery and precarious. You can imagine:- Me, little-miss-no-balance and Jody with his long legs, trying to squeeze through the tiniest gaps and not fall off the cliff. Having walked for over an hour longer than we were told the trail should be, we did get a bit worried at the end. Jody had to shout down at a man working in the fields below and signal for directions. We soldiered on, then realised that parts of the path on this final stretch had given way. I scrambled across, then burst into tears as Jody got stuck mid-way and my throwing him a branch (as seen in all good Indiana Jones movies), only blocked his way even further. My tears turned to tears of relief as he jumped to saftey, clutching vines and we both realised it was the end of the trail. Hurrah for that!

The following day, we tried a guided walk - the guide kept handing us plants to smell, touch or eat. We didn't mind until one flower made our tongues go numb (then we learnt that it's used as an anaesthetic).

Something we won't forget about the Cameron Highlands is the day we tried Durian. It's a huge spiky fruit like a big pinapple but it's banned in most hotels because it sinks. People often describe the experience of trying it as like eating custard in a sewer. It apparently tastes better if you can get over the smell but I couldn't. All I remember is the beige, avocado-like flesh, biting into it and trying not to gag. People in Asian countries go mad for it though.

We left the Cameron Highlands to spend xmas in the capital, Kuala Lumpur but we've been here for four days and we find it characterless and dull. Had a good Christmas though (thanks Jody for my Gucci timepiece) and even managed to get ourselves in the newspaper today! (See photo).

We're still alive

2004-12-26T22:17:00.000Z

Leaving disasters in our wake, we're currently in Kuala Lumpur, the capital of Malaysia, so we haven't been affected by the dreadful earthquake and tsunami that has just rocked Asia.

We also luckily missed the bus crash in the Cameron Highlands which happened the day before we left. A couple from our hostel were involved, but walked away.

Instead we're eating and sweating lots (once again, we're in hot territory). I bought Amy a Gucci watch for Christmas (a two quid fake of course. Only the best for my girl). She bought me a watch in return, since the one I bought in Bangkok broke after six weeks. We had Christmas dinner in a posh Thai restaurant on Christmas Day. There was no turkey in sight. Instead we had Pak Choi, Curry Kapitan (a dish famous in Penang - basically a chichen korma with a chilli chucked in) and black pepper beef. It was great, even if there were no crackers and daft hats.

Merry Christmas everyone. I would wish you all here with us, but Kuala Lumpur is pretty bloody dull and the accomodation here is filthy (Amy recieved FORTY bed bug bites in one night... Bite-o-meter: Kerching!) so you're probably better off at home. We're thinking about travelling to Australia ahead of schedule to catch New Year there if we can.

Living the high life

2004-12-23T19:12:00.000Z

A lovely view from the Cameron Highlands

A 66-year old man peddled us and our luggage to our bus on Sunday morning. He didn't even break a sweat. We were leaving Penang's chaotic Chinatown to take a winding journey up to the peaceful Cameron Highlands. The day got off to a strange start when a marathon (see photo) delayed the arrival of our bus, but it wasn't until we reached the Highlands that the madness really kicked off.

When we arrived at our destination we headed for a bite to eat, settling for a seat in a restaurant opposite a smiling Indian man. We starting chatting - he lived out of town and said he owned his own retail business - and it wasn't long before he'd taken over our meal, ordering the staff to bring us extra chillis and sauces. We were unable to stop him paying our bill before he invited us to join him and his family for a tour of the Highlands.

Before we knew it we were sitting in a van with his wife and three kids heading to Brinchang - a village a few miles away from where we're staying in Tanah Rata. They took us to an Indian temple and a Chinese temple, stopping off at the occasional market and plant shop along the way. Mr S (as we'll call him) and his wife were jolly and talkative, but his three kids were sour-faced and appeared annoyed that Amy and I were getting star treatment. I don't know why, but I sensed tension in the family and felt that Mr S was only running the tour for the benefit of Amy and me.

By now Mr S had knocked back a few bottles of Guinness - when we met him in the restaurant he'd drunk at least two, with an additional two at stops along the way. I was concerned that his reaction time might be hindered when driving around the windy, blind corners up in the hills.

I bought some chocolates for our kind adopted family and they repayed us by showering Amy with gifts - sweetcorn from a street vendor, a Cameron Highlands T-shirt and a keychain made of plastic strawberries. The children looked on, unamused. The mother said that this was their first holiday in 16 years (and it was only one-day long) - the last was their honeymoon, also in the Highlands, and that time they took an Australian couple for a tour, staying out late and missing their 'honeymoon', so to speak.

After our three-hour trip, we agreed to go for dinner with the family. But first Amy and I headed back to our guesthouse to change into warm clothes. We've had our fair share of cold weather in the Highlands after almost two months of sweating through the rest of Asia. It's around 23C in the day and 14C at night.

Arriving back at Mr S' hotel, I was surprised to see his wife and kids were in bed and that only he was joining us for dinner. Slightly saddened by this, we left the family behind and went to the same Chinese restaurant where this all began. We ordered a steamboat - a traditional Highlands cuisine consisting of meat, fish and veg cooked in one of two stockpots left heating in the centre of the table on a gas burner. Our host hardly ate a thing - earlier in the day he said that he didn't even like steamboats and it seemed that he was only doing this for our pleasure. We said that we liked prawns and he bought an additional plate of them. When Amy said she liked eggs he asked for another basket full, but I stopped him.

He was silent during dinner and I tried hard to keep the conversation flowing in repayment for his kindness. When the bill came, he refused to let us pay, so I decided to show our thanks by buying him a couple of large beers to take home. This is where it started to get weird.

He said that he couldn't take alcohol home with him - a man in his 40s, afraid of drinking in his own home. It was if he lived his life by a rule that drinking was only allowed in the Highlands. He'd binged on it all day and said that when he was a bachelor he would drive to the highest point to get smashed on whisky while watching the view, but would never think of drinking at home.

By now the restaurant was closing so we moved outside. Drunk and tired, Mr S went on to reveal how he doesn't love his wife but can never leave her and he resents her for being old and in poor health. He said that he never looked after his children when they were babies because it wasn't his role.

He then lectured Amy on her duties as a woman. Apparently it's her job to cook the food I want to eat when I want to eat it. Although Amy's cooking is pretty good now, I don't think I could stomach it seven days a week. I explained how things are different in England and that both partners share responsibilities, but he couldn't get the idea that Amy was having an easy ride out of his head and spat out her duties once again.

"What do you do for him?" Mr S asked. "I sing and dance," Amy joked. Mr S then said that if I wanted to see girls sing and dance I could pay for that, while Amy stays at home preparing my dinner.

Noticing our distress he left the table, standing a few feet away to compose himself before returning to apologise. But the conversation was still much the same and I was keen to leave. Despite his kindness that day, I wasn't prepared to sit through another lecture on how to run a 1920's household with all the perks it brings (children that fear their father! A robot wife whose only interests are cooking, cleaning and washing! No divorce no matter what happens!).

So we walked Mr S to his hotel. I wished his business and family well. He's undoubtedly a kind man - he bought his children gifts while we were out and offered another couple in the restaurant a lift back to their hotel when they enquired about a taxi. He strongly believes that if he is kind to strangers then god will be kind to him. Though we're grateful for the money he spent on us, I hope that he'll put his family first in the future.

Penang, Malaysia

2004-12-18T22:03:00.000Z

Jody at a nice blue mansion

See our Penang pictures.

We arrived in Georgetown on the island of Penang on Wednesday, falling foul to a final Thai con. When crossing the Thailand / Malaysia border, the passport control officer who stamped our passports demanded a fee of 20 baht each to let us through. We handed the money over, but were later told we'd been conned - by a man working for the Thai government for pity's sake!

Most people we've met who've been to Georgetown have hated it, but that's probably because they were expecting a beach resort that panders to tourists. What you actually get is a dirty great city squashed into the corner of an island, with few tourists in sight. We love it.

Penang's inhabitants are a nice mix of Malay, Chinese and Indian groups. We've been staying in Chinatown in a vast guesthouse called the Olive Spring run by a friendly Chinese family. Tan - the head of the family - occasionally sits me down to tell me something and though I always expect it to be some ancient oriental wisdom passed down for generations, it usually ends up being some hogwash about the man-eating fish he says he keeps at the back of the guesthouse, or something similar. One of Tan's relatives (who looks like a Chinese version of Jaws from a Bond movie) acts as night security and can be found sleeping in the corridors during the day. It's a nice place (yey!), but we have bed bugs (boo!).

The people in Georgetown are extremely friendly. The island doesn't rely heavily on tourism so there's no real need for the locals to be friendly to us foreigners like there is on the islands off Thailand, but they still go out of their way to make us happy. While waiting for a bus yesterday, a policeman, a lady from a shop and another man in the queue all asked if we needed directions. On a few occassions, we've been the only foreigners in packed Chinese cafes, but the staff still take time to explain what the hell the menu's all about.

While in Penang Museum today, I was chatting about the friendliness of the people here with the Indian security guard. "We are friendly because we all have a passion for Penang," he said. "Even to our most vile enemy, the Japanese, we are polite and smile." During the Japanese occupation of Penang during WW2 the security guard's grandfather was beheaded, I was told.

Yesterday we took a 30-minute train ride up Penang Hill with a girl we'd met called Kate. There's a small village at the top, 2,500 feet above sea level. (Here's a pic of Amy and me at the top). The houses up there are either derelict or owned by rich bastards (the British Empire were the first to build up there, so every house is huge and decadent). The three of us tried to find an apparently beautiful hotel that lays abandonded, but after an hour of walking up and down paths we were only rewarded by the presence of a big dog that chased us back the way we came.

We also tried a canopy walk (which is a bridge made of planks of wood, erected high in the trees and held up by rope). It only took 15 minutes to reach the end, but it was hell. Every step made the bridge wobble and because I'm a glutton for punishment I couldn't help but look down every couple of minutes, before wincing with fear. I took one picture of Amy while up there, but the rest of the time I was too terrified to let go.

Tomorrow we leave for the Cameron Highlands in central Malaysia, where we may meet even more jungle terrors (but hopefully no man-sized venus fly-traps - even Tarzan can't cope with those).

Disasterous Dining in Penang

2004-12-18T21:58:00.000Z

Two waters to flush away the taste

One of the most surprising things I've noticed so far about Malaysia is the distinct lack of tourists compared with Thailand. Walking the streets, you notice people going about their every-day business, ignoring you and it feels good to see that not everyone's lives in these countries we visit, revolve around tourism. In fact, in 90% of the restaurants/cafes we've dined in so far, we've been the only non-Malays in the place. Not that it's been plain sailing...

Unfortunately the flip-side is that when you're in a place unused to foreign visitors, it can bring a host of other difficulties - all of which we've found in the past three days. You may have trouble reading the menu (if there is one) because it's in Bahasa Melayu, Cantonese, Hakka or Hokkien, you don't know how to order and the staff all seem to just ignore you or simply that when your dish comes it's... Revolting/not what you ordered/different from what you expect.

On our first night when we'd literally just touched down on Malaysian soil, we (plus Mark, Richard and Kate whom we'd met travelling from Thailand) headed into little India for a curry. There wasn't much open but we settled for a brightly-lit place with a number of meat curries of varying degrees of spiciness on the menu. Maybe alarm bells should have started ringing when all the chicken curries looked the same, although everyone ordered something different. Maybe it was just a case of crushed expectations. We'd all heard about great Malaysian curries but none of us enjoyed the meal. The chicken curries were all cold (Hmmm.. could they have been the same thing?) and all of them (even my mutton korma) was too spicy for the person eating it. Something neither naan, rice or pepsi could cure...

Jody's since tried stir-fried frogs legs (not at the same place) and he can confirm that they do taste like chicken. Last night we had an excellent indian meal that was all served up, not on plates, but on giant banana leaves. Well, I guess it saves on washing up.

But for revolting foods in Malaysia, tonight's desert took the biscuit... We ate in an outdoor food court run by malay muslims. I had a Pad Thai-type noodle dish and Jody got a strange mix of battered prawns and batter with nothing in it topped with spicy tomato sauce. Throughout our main meal, we saw staff bringing out loads of these fantastic-looking, huge colourful deserts and decided to try one. It goes by the name of 'Ais Kacang', a huge ball of shaved ice coloured with brown and luminous pink syrup, with icecream on the top. Underneath the enormous, edible snowball was a mix of jelly, sweetcorn and beans. I had about two mouthfuls and felt sick. The pink side of the ice tasted like fish sauce. Jody was determined to eat his way through to discover what was at the bottom, an action which he now sorely regrets.

A week on Ko Lanta

2004-12-13T21:54:00.000Z

Hermit crab

"Stop swatting or you'll scare the frog," I said last night as Amy went about her routine of squashing mosquitoes. We were trying not to upset our latest lodger - a small fat frog who'd taken a liking to our bathroom. He'd left by the morning.

We've been quite lucky with our creature room mates thus far. There are always ants, mossies and friendly geckos, but thankfully my arch enemy Monsieur Cockroach has only made one appearance (I dashed the brute's chances of a night indoors after I deftly swept him out with a broom).

Amy's foe is as always mosquitoes. She can't spend five minutes in the room without stalking the place, flip-flop in hand, swatting the buggers.

The weather's been pretty ropey in Ko Lanta. One of the reasons why we've stayed here so long is because we've been holding out 'just one more day' for some sunshine. Our daily routine is breakfast, stroll to a nice spot on the beach, sprint back to shelter when it starts raining. The sun came out today which we've taken as a good sign, so we're staying just one more day before leaving for Malaysia.

At least it's been cool. I've enjoyed chosing restaurants on the quality of the food, instead of the size of the fan. The food is excellent on Ko Lanta - it puts the crap that was served up on Phi Phi to shame. The locals are extremely friendly too (quite suspiciously at first. We simply weren't used to it).

My stomach has reprogrammed itself since being here. I start the day with some hellishly spicy thing then continue through til dinner. Last week I tried a bland old pizza for a change and the stodginess of it kept me bloated well into the next day.

Today we explored Khlong Dao beach. It's a few miles north of where we've been staying and doesn't have the dead coral of 'our' beach. The only sea-shells in sight belonged to hermit crabs - hundreds of them, all scurrying into the sea en masse, only to get swept back again by the waves. They're angry little fellas and weren't too happy when we picked them up. But the clams are more rude - spitting water at Amy, then sticking their tongues out when she touched them.

On Wednesday we squeeze inside a small van to travel to Malaysia. I'll miss Thailand. It's been bloody great here.

Sitting pretty...

2004-12-08T23:32:00.000Z

Ko Lanta - Amy on the dead coral

We are still on the beaches of Thailand - until some point next week. Then we head on down to Malaysia and into the unknown...

At the moment, we're really enjoying the lazy days (and nights) in Ko Lanta at Klong Khong beach. It's not as picture-perfect as it was on Ko Phi Phi - but it sure is a lot quieter. We moved accommodation yesterday after finding we were sharing our beach bungalow with a huge black rat. He didn't want to share, and neither quite frankly did we. It was horrendous. We spotted the vermin just before bed and after that it was a sleepless night under the mossie net, jumping at every sound and waving the torch around the room. I arrived at the Lanta Merry Hut (our new place) looking like the undead, but after an hour's kip in a hammock overlooking the beach and some hearty Thai fare, I felt right at home. And so it has continued.

You'll see from the above picture that you can't actually swim directly where we are on the beach. It's extremely shallow and so much so, at low tide - all the coral (dead and alive) appear over the waterline. The dead coral looks just like plain ole rock until you get up close. We've been told there is a swimming spot nearby but are too lazy to walk there.
Currently, we're too contented reading, playing cards, eating and watching the occasional movie shown in a beach bar. We've met a few people but it is pretty deserted here and I'm finding it brilliant having our 'own' beach (almost!). Jodes and I are having a good laugh and tonight, he found a mossie bite and I didn't get one! Note - the reason I'm in such a good mood. :)

The Phi Phi cats of doom

2004-12-08T23:21:00.000Z

Meoooooow

In September 2005 when our travels come to an end, I'm sure that one image will be stuck in my mind from this trip. It won't be seeing Angkor Wat at sunrise, or Machu Picchu at dawn. It won't be Ayres Rock or the salt flats of Bolivia. No. It'll probably be the harrowing sight of two strange cats I saw last Saturday on Phi Phi.

We were at a place called the Hippies bar, approaching a large circle of people watching a fire show on the beach. As we prepared to join the crowd we noticed a few people who couldn't bring themselves to watch the show due to the horror that lurked on the sand: two terrifying cats, surely plucked from the depths of hell.

The cats stood totally rigid on the sand, making a tortured growling sound, both staring at the same spot. They're muscles were so stiff they looked like they'd been stuffed, but oh no, they were alive and appeared to be looking at something no human eye could see. I've heard that cats can see the supernatural. Were their eyes fixed on the ghost of Blackbeard?

Passing people gave the cats a wide berth, staring back at the felines in disblief. I tried to watch the fireshow, but couldn't bring myself to have fun while this horrible din roared from the moggies' throats.

After about 30 minutes of fear, some Thai men decided to kick the cats, pushing the rigid beasts so close to each other that their heads were touching. But still no movement. Then suddenly they scrapped.

All along they were just sizing each other up and marking their territory. It's just they had a very funny way of doing it. After a scuffle that couldn't have lasted more than three seconds, the black cat walked away. The ginger one stared rigidly at the departing moggy until it was out of sight and then called it a night.

I had to get that off my chest. Now look at some nice photos of Phi Phi. I'll upload some more when I get the chance.

Where am I? I'm currently sitting at a PC that's so badly wired I get an electric shock every time I touch my camera (which is currently hooked into the PC). I told the little man about it, but his only advice was to keep my feet off the floor.

White sandy shores

2004-12-02T23:08:00.000Z

Really enjoying the beach...

Today we braved the sea again on a longtail boat. It was supposed to be an organised trip but unlike the one we did at Ao Nang (more of that in a second), this time we had just one driver who spoke part English, part Thai and part sign; and an over-crowded boat. The people were pretty cool but the boat didn't take the route we'd been promised so we spent half the day trying to decipher where we actually were.

Anyway, it was all beautiful and we think we saw Maya Bay, the beach where they shot the film of the same name ('The Beach'). In fact, we staged a mutiny on the boat when the driver suggested that he wasn't actually going to let us get off the boat and forced him to go to shore (on the condition that we wouldn't get him in trouble and would pay the extra 20 baht fee to the rangers because Maya Bay is protected as a National Park). Cue: A good photo op and many happy punters pleased to feel dry land once again.

Another highlight was the snorkelling at Monkey Bay where I managed to keep the sea water out of my mouth, and concentrate of snapping pics of a few fish. Jody was on board giving me 'pirahna scares' by chucking bits of biscuits near me in the water so that right by my shoulder, there was a full-on feeding frenzy as a million and one fish scrambled for one bit of rusk! We also visited a place called Shark Point, but didn't see any sharks.

Ao Nang (Ao pronounced 'Ow' as in 'Ow, I've hurt myself'), our first beach destination which we left on Monday November 29, was a good intro to sandy shores but not the white sand/clear waters we're now spoilt with on Ko Phi Phi. Ao Nang is more of a package holiday destination. Our guesthouse there, Nong Eed House, was reasonably dire but when your budget is under 5 pounds a night, nowhere is great shakes. At least it was pretty secure and our washing came back nice and clean. But the staff were horrible, and it was right next to a bar which blared out Tom Jones, Guns'n'Roses and Bob Marley until 2am. Jody and I were literally shouting at each other across the room. Not good for an early night.

The four islands trip by longtail boat from Ao Nang was just amazing. The staff were professional and clearly explained each stop to us. We got to see the tiny islands with white sand beaches and sand banks. All the islands in this region are made up of beach, jungle and these huge limestone cliffs that fall into the sea (where there's no beach). Really never seen anything like it.

Think we've decided now to stick it here (not that it's all hard work) until Monday. All this swimming and sunbathing really takes it out of you so we need to conserve some energy for next week. Finally, I've decided not to take a diving course this time. Just not enough time to devote four days to, and not enough enthusiasm/passion on my part. Just getting the snorkel on is complicated enough for me. Is this a big mistake? PADI people, please comment...

Ko Phi Phi

2004-11-30T17:51:00.000Z

Jody on Tup Island (not Phi Phi)

I'm bowled over by the beauty of Ko Phi Phi. It's like a desert island paradise, but with fifty hotels, noisy bars and ten thousand sunburnt tourists crawling around the place.

Actually it's not that bad. From the snobby Lonely Planet guidebook, I expected it to be totally ruined like the beaches of Cyprus, but there's not even a McDonalds here (but just wait a few years - there's a lot of construction working going on).

Phi Phi is much smaller than I thought it would be and for those who haven't seen a map of the island, it's an odd shape - as if it's been pinched in the middle where the main tourist area is, with higher land to either side. Walking between the two beaches on the North and South of the island only takes five minutes, which is quite novel. Amy and I have settled on the chilled-out North beach, eating Pad Thai in the restaurant there and drinking fruit shakes (fruit liquidised with tap water ice - we haven't caught dysentery yet, but give us time).

As you travel closer to the sea in Thailand, two things happen: costs rocket and the manners of Thai people plummet. We tried to buy food from a street vendor last night, but he was so uninterested in the trade that he turned his back on us until we left. Even in big 'ol Bangkok, the locals treat you with the upmost courtesy (true, they rip you off as soon as look at you, but at least they do it with a smile). Thankfully, rude locals are still very much in the minority and most of the people we've met have been helpful.

What have we been up to? Not much really. We've been spread out on the beach, reading books and occasionally strolling out for a paddle. We may move to another part of the island in a few days, but we've only been here a day and are both quite happy. Our current room on Phi Phi opens out onto an alley that's home to a legion of stray cats. We end up wading shin-deep in writhing fur whenever we open the door.

Tomorrow, we're sailing off for another island tour and cave visit and are currently trying to decide where we'll be for the King's birthday on Sunday December 5. The King is much loved here. In fact, I think that anything short of total adoration for the King is classed as treason, punishable by death. Pictures of him and his lovely Queen hang in streets, houses and taxis. Long may he reign!

I'm currently in an internet cafe next to a bar that plays The Beach on loop all day (it was filmed here). Just thought I'd add that for atmosphere. I shall now return to our room to see if Amy has finished doing her hair so that we can go and explore the East of the island before sun sets.

Monkeys ahoy!

2004-11-28T19:12:00.000Z

A Poda Island monkey

On Thursday we arrived in Ao Nang - a small beach resort North of Krabi on Thailand's West coast. Since then we've relaxed, eaten lots of seafood and today went on a tour of four islands.

While Amy got down to some serious snorkeling on Poda Island (in water, she says, as bright green as jade), I hassled a group of monkeys. We were warned not to approach them due to their track record of attacking and robbing humans, but they seemed pleasant enough. Soon lots of people came over to photograph the apes, who were happy to fool around for the camera. Then I saw one of them slink away from the others and make a beeline for our bags, but I was quick to chase it away before it got near. Unimpressed that their plan had failed, the alpha male monkey (he was twice the size of all the others with a mean set of Dracula fangs) stomped down to the other tourists and made it known that there would be no more pictures today.

I've uploaded some photos from today, but need to rush off now to have dinner with some friends we've made since being here. We plan to leave Ao Nang for Ko Phi Phi tomorrow - I'm sure Amy will fill you in when she has time.

Chiang Mai, Thailand

2004-11-22T17:39:00.000Z

Jody and Amy on elephant back

See our Chiang Mai pictures.

I'm bloated. We've just completed a Thai cookery course at a place called Thai Chocolate (there was none of the sweet stuff in sight - 'Thai Chocolate' is a slang term for red chillies in Thailand). We cooked and ate six meals in seven hours, finding space for two plates of fruit in between. It was a lot of fun and the other eight people on the course felt just as sick as we did by the end.

Amy's currently getting her hair chemically straightened, which leaves me with some time to kill. Best of luck to her - she went for a trim a couple of days back and the Thai lady hacked about four inches off.

We went elephant trekking yesterday, which was a giggle - though we were slightly worried when our driver hopped off and disappeared, leaving the elephant to lumber on unguided (he returned a few minutes later). Our elephant was a stubborn beast and refused to move at times. We later learnt that the small elephant that had been following us was our elephant's calf and the reason she refused to move was because she couldn't see her baby.

After a bumpy hour on elephant back, we made it to one of the famous Chiang Mai hilltribes. Hilltribe trekking is one of the main reason travellers come to the city, but we can't be arsed with it. The romantic view is that the hilltribes are small societies of natives, untouched by modern civilization. But, judging from other traveller's stories and the hilltribe we visited, the reality is that what you actually visit is a series of salesmen and women in silly hats intent on flogging you tat. Though some of the goods are made locally, much of it seems to be imported from the mainland and Burma.

I spoke to a couple who had just returned from a hilltribe trek and they weren't impressed. They visited the Karen tribe (famous for their longneck women: see this picture I've found) and although the longneck ladies greet tourists, everyone else in the tribe slouched around in tracksuits.

We also took an hour-long ride on a bamboo raft with three other people and a couple of guys who were employed to steer. We enjoyed taking in the beautiful scenery and the ride was very slow and peaceful other than the instance when we ran into a fallen tree and almost capsized.

We leave Chiang Mai and head for Krabi in Southern Thailand on Thursday. After all this rushing about we're planning to spend our final three weeks in Thailand exploring some islands and lazing on beaches.

Angkor Wat, Cambodia

2004-11-20T14:26:00.000Z

Amy outside Angkor Wat

See our Angkor Wat pictures.

It was amazing... Got up super early to see Angkor Wat (which is both the name of the city of temple ruins and the most famous single temple there) at sunrise and spent another two days exploring the rest of the temples. We saw the major ones (about 20 of 100), got bitten alive again (deet does not do it for me) but really liked it.

Here's what else we noticed:

Pesky kids trying to sell you stuff (even tiny ones) and who look like they're about to cry when you insist you don't need 20 braclets for $1...

They're waiting for you outside all the temples screaming: "Col' drink sir! You want col' drink. Food madam, you want some thing eat?". And the boys with the guide books try and corner you saying: "Where you from?" And when you say England... They spiel off "Capital city, London. Borders with Wales and Scotland". I started testing them on our last day and asked the capital of Canada. When they gave me the answer, they told me about Canada having two languages and then started gabbling to me in French! It's funny now to think about it now but at the time it was a bit much.

We probably would have bought something (Jody liked this Angkor Wat paper weight which lit up with disco lights at the touch of a button) if we'd been able to browse the stalls but as it was, once you approached them, the kids wouldn't leave you alone.

Out of Angkor Wat. Cambodia is a lovely looking country - green and lush when you get out of the town. Driving past paddy fields and villagers just getting on with their daily chores was for me the best part after the temples. Part of the country is flooded for three months of the year. We saw this when we flew in but couldn't work out what we were seeing. From so high up, Jody thought it looked like broccoli in a pan (obviously, the trees in the flooded area). It doesn't really rain much either. We experienced a shower that literally lasted for about 50 seconds when we were at a temple one afternoon. The locals got really excited but it was over before it had really begun. Not like in London then...

Jody writes:

The ruins. This is what we came for. On our first night we took a tuk-tuk (more basic than those in Thailand - these ones are simply motorbikes pulling a cart) to Phnom Bakheng to watch the sunset. I didn't know that we were driving via Angkor Wat itself, but as we passed the sight of the massive complex looming out from the jungle it was worth the trip alone.

After spending three days (two of which we started at 5am to catch the sunrises) exploring temples, we learnt to enjoy the remote ruins more. Angkor Wat is in such good condition (following constant restoration - it is Cambodia's flagship tourist attraction after all) and is always so crowded that it ends up looking quite bland close up.

We prefered the more ruinous jungle temples, such as Preah Khan. We reached the complex at 6am and were the only two people there for quite some time. It felt like we were the first people to ever discover it. Some structures had collapsed and elegantly tumbled through standing doorways. Trees straddled ruins, both destroying and holding together the ancient structures. Headless statues rose up from the rubble and plants and flowers grew everywhere. We spent hours there and took a lot of photos (which we will show in a 10-hour slide projection, with commentary, upon our return).

The people. While the children at the temples chase you with trinkets and clothing to sell, the adults try and get you to eat at their stalls. Once we made our choice and finally sat at a stall, the owners changed completely. They're warm, friendly and relaxed and sometimes shooed the children away so that we could eat in peace. Most Cambodians have excellent English too. The English and historical knowledge of one of our drivers was so good, there was no point in shelling out $20 for a guide (we prefered to explore for ourselves, anyway).

Landmine victims beg wherever tourists can be found. They frequently followed us, waving torn limbs and shouting "disabled." One day, we were eating at a temple and saw a local girl who had serious facial burns sharing a joke with the cafe staff. The minute we stood to leave she changed completely, chasing us, pointing at her face and screaming and moaning like the undead. Our driver found it hilarious - he'd probably seen the act before. Neither Amy or I knew what to do in these situations, so we just ignored them. Is it right to encourage begging by giving money? We didn't think so.

On the whole, we loved Cambodia and wished we could have spent more time exploring other parts of the country, rather than just the well touristed area. We're currently killing time in Chiang Mai, having plotted some things to do in the next few days, including an elephant trek.

Italian tourists

2004-11-19T07:41:00.000Z

Everyone seems to have it in for Japanese tourists. Ok, so they do generally travel in large groups and lurch into every landmark photo en masse, standing hands on hips and exclaiming "waaah" (translation: "wow"). But that old cliche about them carrying loads of camera equipment isn't relevant anymore - almost everyone we've seen is carrying a ton of it.

A big group of Italian tourists were pissing everyone off on our flight last night though. They pushed to the front of the check-in queue, then - dragging their Louis Vuitton luggage - piled in front of the departure doors to make sure they were the first on the plane. Then the botoxed old hag who sat in front of me refused to put her seat forward for the duration of the flight, depite me having hardly any room to juggle the numerous drinks Bangkok Airways piled me with.

I would have caused a fuss, but knowing my luck they were probably Mafia. Incidentally, I saw a Japanese man with a finger missing, which either means he's a member of the deadly Yakuza clan, or once had a run-in with a big dog.

Where are we? At the airport again, waiting for our flight to Chiang Mai. We've just returned from Cambodia, but will try and tell you about that some other time.

Highlights of Bangkok

2004-11-13T11:21:00.000Z

Starting to realise we haven't been explaining what we have been doing much - just the quirks of Bangkok (BKK). We've seen all the sights now though and are just returning in transit between Cambodia and the beaches. Some of my personal highlights:

First lizard spotted: - scarpering out of toilet as I went in, in our first hostel (Number One Guesthouse, Sukhumvit). Hostel was okay. Our room had good aircon and a shower cubicle in the room. But we were dubious about the cleanliness of the bed and ended up sleeping on top of it.

Tour of the Wats (buddist temples): - We did them all - Marble temple, lucky budda, Golden Mount - on a man made mountian. A 250-step climb up and great views over Bangkok. Plus a smaller Wat - but one that has (in the grounds) a huge 39 metre tall golden budda - Luang Pho To, which was errected in 1867 AD.
That day, we became an attraction of Bangkok ourselves! Our tuk-tuk driver deserted us at our last stop, Golden Mount (a ploy by the drivers to get more of the petrol vouchers we later learned). Thus we were forced to get another one which took us 45 minutes in the wrong direction first to huge Jewellery store and on the way back, got us stuck in an 100-strong mob of thai people on the way to pray. They surrounded the tuk-tuk, laughing and pointing and offering us flowers. Weird experience..

Wat Pho: - We eventually made it on our last day despite being told by 4 different people that it was closed. I don't know why thai water vendors/random people on the street do not want tourists to go there. It's right next to the Grand Palace - but by comparision is empty, and probably because everyone else is also being told it's closed. It has the most amazing huge reclining buddha (lying on it's side) which is like 50+ metres long by 15 wide.

Bangkok Bar - our fav bar on Soi Rambutre in Banglamphu. Plays great music and always seemed to meet really sound people in there. Also was just round the corner from our fav hostel so far - Four Sons Village (fan room with ensuite bath and balcony) only 350 baht a night! About four pounds fifty. Quite new and they let us make some free phone local phone calls too. A great place but don't trust Tom, the camp travel agent there...

Chatuchak Market - a weekend market of everything! Furniture, fishtanks, animals, clothes, mops, spiders (live hairy ones), food (spiders, locusts if you like) etc. It must stretch over a square mile. We only got round a small bit in like 6 hours but did plenty, plenty shopping.

Kanchanaburi

2004-11-12T18:33:00.000Z

We're currently living in a hut in a field. It's one of many strange little African-style bungalows just out of the main town of Kanchanaburi. The hut's bedroom roof is thatched with straw, only a mosquito grill covers the windows and the bathroom doesn't have a roof, leaving us to shower by sun or moonlight. The shower itself is a mini-waterfall we turn on by twisting a bamboo tap. Take a look on the Little Creek website for pictures.

We were bowled over by the romance of it all - far away from the roar of Bangkok's traffic and with nothing but open fields, streams and mountains surrounding us. But that's where the fairy tale ended...

Returning to our hut at night, we found it infested with all manner of insects (attracted to the light that had been left on by the cleaner) and mouse droppings all over the place. We quickly hung the mosquito net and cowered inside, swatting bugs that got trapped under the cover and flicking their corpses out into the melee.

Once we'd cocooned ourselves inside, we were scared to get out again for fear of breaching our stronghold. We slept beneath a wall of hungry insects that were fearlessly searching for an entry point and were frequently woken by rodent squeaks, bats chattering and a fan I'd left on full pelt that chilled us to the bone.

Like a bad zombie film, we were glad when the sun came up and the brainless hoards, intent on sucking our blood, drifted away. We both walked away unscathed, but Amy has since been less fortunate, receiving a number of bites probably as an act of insect revenge (and prompting me to start a tally in the right hand column on this page). Recently we have found a hornets nest outside our door and a two-foot long snake skin, shed behind our toilet.

We've since moved to another hut which still has mice, but less insects. Which of course is far better.

What we've been up to: Yesterday we headed to Erawan Falls - a seven-tiered waterfall that stretches down a mountain. We trekked to the top (over 1,500 feet up - which took about an hour and a half) where the water was so clean you could drink it... if there weren't fish swimming in it. We cooled off in the water, then walked / climbed / fell back to the bottom again. We even saw some monkeys on the way down (probably fresh from robbing some tourists for their wallets).

We then took the 'Death Railway' that was built by POW in WWII for a two-hour trip back to town, crossing the Bridge over the River Kwai at the end. Just by chance it was November 11 - D-Day. For the first half hour the journey was hot, stuffy, crowded and with hardly anything to see - much like London Underground. But when all the locals got off, we could enjoy the rest of the journey and hang our heads (and tongues) out of the window like sweaty dogs.

We're off to see if there's anything worth eating on the floating restaurants in a moment, before heading back to Insect Armageddon again.

On Sunday November 14 we fly to Cambodia; a week later Chaing Mai (Northern Thailand), then South to some of Thailand's many islands.

Mum - look away now...

2004-11-08T21:20:00.000Z

View from a tuk-tuk

We've been taken for a ride quite literally this week in our first experiences with the infamous Tuk-tuks of Bangkok.

They're basically a metal cage on three wheels with a driver sitting on a seat in front steering and contributing more smog to this already-polluted city.

Riding in one can be like a rollercoaster if the traffic is not too bad. It can be fun but dangerous/scary if you've got a loony in front driving in the wrong lane (on the wrong side of the road) just to try and beat the traffic. Yes, that did happen to us and it was not nice.

It's not just riding in them. In this city, you've also got to make a real effort not to be run over by one.

And before you've even got in, you have to bargain - like this:
Me - "To Khao San Road?"
Driver - "How much you want pay?"
M - "30 baht?"
D - "Hmm.. bad, bad 70 baht" *frowns and waves hands*
M - "40 baht?"

This goes on for a while until we agree on 50 baht and no stops.

This means he won't divert from our 15 min journey to Khao San road to drive us 30 mins in the opposite direction to take us to a top quality tailors/jewellers/tourist tat centre - just so he gets petrol coupons as commision from the shop. From the way I see it, he probably uses so much petrol taking us all that way in the wrong direction that he's definintely spent the petrol coupon before he's even got it! But anyway, it's a scam you try to avoid.

Even so, we still managed to get a bit lax on Friday and ended up visiting two jewellers, a tailors and a carpet shop...

Ping pong at midnight

2004-11-08T21:01:00.000Z

We went to a Go-Go Bar last night. It's something that just has to be done if you come to Thailand. Missing the experience would be like travelling to Paris without seeing the Eiffel Tower. And no, I didn't bully Amy into it. She was just as keen, I promise.

The plan was hatched when Amy and I met a couple of Irish guys our own age in a bar round the corner from our hostel. They'd just arrived in Bangkok and while ticking through our lists of sights to see in the capital, the subject of ping pong came up and before we knew it we were in a cab on our way to Patpong.

Patpong used to be Bangkok's main red light district, but since word of the city's Go-Go Bars has got round (partly thanks to films like Priscilla Queen of the Desert), Bangkok's seedier underworld has moved elsewhere, turning the area into a popular destination for curious travellers. (Right, that's my spiel out of the way attempting to make last night seem more respectable.)

As I've said before, everyone is trying to rip you off in Bangkok, but this claim cannot be more true than in Patpong, where we were mobbed by touts attempting to get us into different bars. Thankfully, a friend had warned me of the scams that the bars try to pull (cheers Matt!), so we were a tad more clued up than some of the poor sods who we saw getting caught out.

A popular scam in Patpong is letting people into bars for free but charging them a fortune to leave. With no way of knowing which bar would be honest, we tried to find a lone lecherous old man who might be able to give us some tips. This wasn't an easy task - Patpong was mainly full of couples and even a few families out dining or drinking. We eventually found a jolly, middle-aged German chap out drinking who pointed us in the direction of a bar called the Queen's Castle. So after a brief walk, we bit the bullet and went in.

So what's the difference between Thailand's Go-Go Bars and Western strip joints? Well, while in the West clubs are filled with groups of men wanting to get their rocks off, entertainment in Patpong bars is more like a circus act. You couldn't possibly find what these girls are doing a turn-on. It's just frankly bizarre. And while I don't want to get into any detail, it involves stunts such as blowing out candles, picking up things with chopsticks, shooting darts at balloons and of course firing ping pong balls - all without the use of their hands. Give it a few years and I'm sure you'll see contestants attempting the same stunts on Jim Davidson's Generation Game.

Other than a couple of girls who seemed to be having a whale of a time, the other performers looked bored out of their minds. Another, although stripped to her waist in bikini bottoms, kept her socks on.

We only noticed a couple of quintessential sex tourists in the bar - other clientele included couples and some groups of girls (all Western, it appeared). We left an hour later and only spent 100baht each (1.40 GBP) on a drink. A cheap night's entertainment that we won't forget in a hurry.

Oh yeah, and I was hit on the leg by two ping pong balls and Amy had to punch one away from her face. But we washed afterwards.

Bangkok: first impressions

2004-11-06T15:12:00.000Z

Bangkok traffic

It's our third full day in Bangkok and we've packed loads in already, so today Amy and I are planning to take it easy. We've stayed in three different guesthouses on two different sides of the city but now we've given in and are settling near the Khao San road - the main tourist area.

Bangkok is a fantastic city - totally hectic (I like to compare it to Barter Town in Mad Max). Here are some things that have made an impression on me so far:

The traffic. The roads in Bangkok are gridlocked all day and night, despite attempts by the government to put on buses, sky trains, river taxis and now a new underground train service. This leads drivers to take as many short-cuts as possible, ignoring traffic lights and pedestrian crossings, turning the streets - and sometimes pavements - into one big bumper car race.

The people. Every Thai person in the tourist areas are trying to rip you off, albeit usually for as little as 20p. They'd sell you their own grandmother for a quick buck and probably overcharge you by 50 baht. But people out of the tourist areas are much more friendly, though I'm sure they still have an agenda. While visiting the 'lucky Buddha' statue in a temple yesterday, Amy and I chatted to a Thai man who said he worked for the UN. After a few minutes the man strayed from rejoicing over how much luck Buddha had brought him, to then give us the hard sell on a tailors in Southern Bangkok.

Blind karaoke beggars. They're everywhere! A boombox strapped round their neck, clutching a microphone in one hand and a begging cup in the other, belting out showtunes as they stare out at you with dead eyes. They make a fortune.

Stray cats and dogs. Always sleeping in the shade, like this dog we found outside a temple.

The smell. It stinks here. The roads make you dizzy with fumes and the streets sometimes smell of sewage. But enter a temple and you'll smell sweet incense and flowers... ahh.... I'm now contributing to the problem, by sweating pure chilli sauce after four days of spicey food.

Sex tourists. Old, pasty white men dining alone or seen walking through streets clutching the hand of a young, doll-faced Thai girl. When we stayed in Sukumvit, Eastern Bangkok, the place was full of them, but the Khao San area is mainly young travellers.

We're currently planning our move up north to Chiang Mai for cleaner air and a slower pace (and elephant rides). You can see some of the pictures we've taken so far on my flickr account.

Our leaving party

2004-10-31T22:12:00.000Z

Amy, Jody and Silje

We really are leaving now. We've had the party to prove it.

Lots of our friends turned up on Saturday night to celebrate seeing the backs of us. We went to a new Brazillian bar off Drury Lane, London, called Guanabara. Quilombo do Samba - an 11-piece band consisting mainly of men smacking drums - really tested our hearing.

See some photos from the night. Mmmm... berry mojito.

Corruption before we've even gone anywhere!

2004-10-25T22:38:00.000Z

Saw something bad today... Bit disapointed.

For those who don't know, we've been in touch with a volunteering organisation and were planning to go there to work with homeless kids for a few months. However, we've found out (from previous volunteers) that this so-called 'charitable' organisation is corrupt and the guy running it pockets a lot of the donations, so not much money goes to the kids themselves and the running of the centres.

This is a bit disconcerting. If we want to go and see for ourselves, we'll have to try and avoid giving donations in advance (something that is apparently required). However, I can't see how many people (we've read numerous accounts on the worldsurface site) can be lying... Most have said the same thing how they felt duped and lied to, and how they all wanted to help but the place was so badly run/poor - that it was impossible.

We'll definately have to re-think as this leaves a big hole in our plans. However on a brighter note, we're still planning to volunteer at Villa Tunari (the monkey sanctuary) and we've only heard good things about that! Maybe we can stay a bit longer too...

The preparations are going well - just over a week to go. It's the final countdown....

Homeless

2004-10-23T18:41:00.000Z

As of today, Amy and I are officially homeless. After a horrible seven days of condensing everything we own into boxes and sending them off to both our parents' houses, we've moved out and are staying with Amy's folks for the final week before we leave.

It's been such a stressful hassle that we're going to need a really long holiday to recover.

Thanks to my mum, Amy's parents and everyone else who has lugged boxes around for us.

Three weeks to go today

2004-10-12T19:11:00.000Z

Just three weeks before we board the plane to Thailand, so I thought I'd mark the occasion with the first post on the blog.

Amy and I spent Sunday evening creating a map with the times we aim to reach each location. I'm sure it'll prove laughably inaccurate as we change our course along the way, but nailing our route down was a handy exercise (it's easy to forget exactly where we're going with everything else we're dealing with - finishing work, packing up the house, shopping for nifty zip-off trousers...).

Why do a blog? It's for family, friends and the odd stranger to read and will be a useful journal for us to look back on. But don't expect frequent updates, unless the weather is very wet.