Welcome to My World

Finally London

2010-06-20T20:14:00.013+01:00

There are many facades to London. As I climbed the stairs out of Tottenham Court Road tube station I caught a vision of it. The photo captures its two extremes; the glitz and the revolting.

The combination of thrill and fear is what attracts me to it, just like other things I’ve done in my life; bungee jumping, sky diving, leaving everything and everyone behind to travel across the globe – all scary but exciting. When I first left Malta five and a half years ago I so wished I’d move straight to the capital however, faith decided to take me on a round-about way starting from West Berkshire in the UK to Africa then Asia, South East Asia, Australia, New Zealand then back to the UK in Reading (still in Berkshire) and now finally, London. It is here that I now live, play, work and soon-to-be a student again.

I love it. Ok, it’s only been two months since I moved here so I suppose I’m still my honeymoon period. What do I like about it? Well, for starters being the largest metropolitan city in Europe, it’s like being in another country or many of them actually, only a doorstep away. About a third of the 7.5 million population is not born in UK so the City lives and breeds a fusion of diverse nationalities and with them cultures. I just love to stroll along the markets, smelling and tasting the food, feast my eyes on colourful clothes and artefacts and listen to some of the three hundred spoken languages.

There’s always somewhere to go and something do in London; watching a play or musical, visit exhibitions of fashion, art, attend religious or traditional ceremonies, go for walks or a cycle and picnic in parks, to dancing salsa and partying. I’ve so far enjoyed most and look forward to so much more. But probably one of the best things is meeting its inhabitants who hail from all corners of the world. I’m making a habit of attending events to meet people with similar interests or in similar professions, then chat for hours over a drink, or perhaps two.

Being overpopulated the City let’s its steam out in various ways. ‘Welcome to The Big Smoke’ I was told when I first got here. Since demand is greater than supply everything and every inch of it is pricey. What you pay is worth the space you occupy not the space you’re in. Men in black ties accompanied by diamond-dazzling dames, walk out from the theatre into its streets where homeless ask for their spare change. The rich mingle with the poor as each live in the City of their dreams. As a sage once told me, every prize has a price tag to it.

Ultimately, you get what you put into it and that’s what makes London.

Lanzarote

2010-03-13T15:52:00.038Z

Finally, after a long cold snowy winter in the UK, the sun is slowly coming out from its hibernation. I was lucky enough to break the winter with two journeys to two lovely sunny islands. I went back home, to Malta last Christmas. That was quite something on it's own. I hadn't spent Christmas with my family for two years since I was 'busy' travelling Asia then Australia. Snow struck UK just a week before I had to fly out. I narrowly missed out on lovely sun, 24 degrees Celsius of warmth and my family's unbeatable home-coming shower.

Back a month, end of November, I spent five fantastic days on one of the Canary Islands, Lanzarote as a birthday treat. It was not a typical 'Nicky holiday' (you'd get that if you read the rest of my blog!!) This time I decided to celebrate it 'Diana style'.

I met Diana about a year ago in New Zealand on a tour. We kept in touch especially every since I returned back to the UK. She too has toured the world mostly as air hostess though. Her birthday is just a day before mine, so we joined forces packed her young colleague Bambos with us and flew away from cold-smitten UK.

The clammy heat was welcoming. A five minute taxi drive brought us to our holiday complex aparthotel in Port Carmen. The sea so blue and inviting. Lanzarote's landscape is made up of grey dry lava dotted with white-washed houses, against a background of volcanic mountains.

We sweated our way up to our little holiday apartment and wasted no time to swap into our bikinis and laze by the pool. Bliss, felt my body melting. We couldn't be bothered to go out that night so we just chilled out in the balcony over a wine and pasta supper.

The next days were a mix of sleeping in, lying by the pool or on the beach, enjoying an occasional ice-cold swim then finding a good restaurant and some friendly locals to offer us a drink or two!

Port Carmen is a typical summer resort retaining some of its old charm in the old quarter. The harbour harnessed fishing boats and their owners' lived in the tiny cottages in narrow streets surrounding it. The wide promenade was lined with sandy beaches and palms on one side and restaurants, shops and hotels on the other.

One evening as we meandered along the promenade enjoying the final streaks of sunlight, Diana and I were caught by a plump glittery-pink English woman who sold us a Gran Tour around the island.

A slightly chilly morning (well, it was end November!) saw us three waiting on the bus stop for the coach to pick us up. We first drove towards the north of the island to visit 'the most beautiful nightclub in the world'. (Pity it was a day tour, actually!)

The Jameos del Agua is a volcanic tunnel. We descended into the roofless part of the cave. A narrow naturally formed passageway allowed us to get to the other end, or the stage, which extends itself into the next volcanic bubble adorned this time by a man-made pool. Towards the end of Jameo Grande is the concert cave; an astonishing hall with its wonderful natural acoustics perfect for concerts and performances.

Further up north of the island we captured some stunning views of the Mirador de Guinate.

Our next stop was wine tasting at La Geria. Mmmm tasty sweet wine, we so needed lunch after that!

Finally, we got to the most talked about Timanfaya National Park. Driving along the steep winding roads in-between the volcanoes, we stopped by the earth fumes-operated restaurant. Natural furnaces were everywhere underneath our feet. The restaurant had however converted one into a proper huge 24hr natural gas BBQ and gosh it piping hot, a steak would take two minutes to cook. Hungry anyone?

We were simply taken away by some scary geothermal stunts performed by the locals. It was almost as if they were teasing the devils in their inferno.

Sunset awaited us at El Golfo; a rough isolated beach ideal for spending lousy romantic evenings taking stunning pictures.

The tour finally led us towards Costa Blanca, the second largest resort on the island and from where ferries made their way to and from the neighbour Tenerife island.

Another evening of delicious fish and wine awaited us. It was as if Diana and I celebrated our birthdays every day :)

Can't wait for summer and more sun
cheer for now
Nicky
X

Piz' bday in Luxembourg

2009-12-20T18:15:00.027Z

Merry Christmas!!

I first met Piz ten years ago when I was employed by Vodafone in Malta. Piz managed the International Roaming team at the time while I was in marketing. We got along really well and together managed to deliver successful projects. After I left, Piz and I remained good old friends. We helped one another especially in key turning points in our lives. When Piz moved to the UK I toured hundreds of cars with him until he found the one. He just loved driving his new belle up and down England in search for beauty spots. I'm grateful for the times Piz took me with him. I remember going to Cheddar Gorge; a lovely tiny escapade in which we gorged in its lovely valleys and hills. A week later he picked me up together with all my stuff. All my personal belongings filled every bit of space within the car. I never thought one trip would be enough but it was. The faithful car drove us all to the centre of Newbury where Piz and I turned into santas and started distributing my stuff to charity shops. A few days after that I left to travel across Asia then onto Australia. In the meantime, Piz decided to take a company offer and move to Luxembourg.

I hadn't seen Piz for almost two years when we met again in London last June. We was pretty excited as he told me all about his big 50th birthday bash. 09/09/09 - was symbolic for Piz and he wanted to share it with fifty people who were were close to his heart. I got an invite, I was one of the special ones.

I flew to Hahn in Germany late Friday night then got the bus to Luxembourg city. It was past one in the morning when I got there and Piz was waiting to pick me up this time in his new BMW. He now lives in a lovely house in a small quiet village. Piz had picked the house mainly cause of the garden in which he wanted to host his birthday BBQ party.

A short night brought us to a brisk and busy morning. As his other guests made their way to the city, Piz drove us to a huge store to pick up drinks for the party. Back at his house and together with his wife Anna, we cleared the way for the caterers to set up the marquise and get ready for the lavish BBQ buffet. After a short break in the afternoon, Piz started making himself pretty by shaving his already bold head! In no time guests started arriving.

It was a great party full of lovely people. Piz is a friendly person with so much character; a charming charismatic comedian. Piz makes everyone laugh with his jokes funny faces and acts. Having gorged ourselves in wine and delicious food we huddled inside to cut the cake. Piz the celeb, didn't let us down and cracked his jokes with gusto. The party was far from over. Piz is a die hard rocker with a huge collection of live shows DVDs. He started playing one after the other then made us pick our favourites so he could play them. It was sing-a-long / karaoke grand finale.

We went to bed pretty late or rather early in the morning. I slept well. Forgot to mention what a great hosts Piz and Anna are. It was just like being at my family. At 8am I heard Piz clearing up glasses in the other room. I couldn't just let him do the job alone so I got myself out of bed, rolled my selves and ... there stood Piz broom in hand wearing a 'Got Crabs?' t-shirt! (Great ad for a restaurant called Crabs - not!).

All done and dusted, Anna prepared us all a lavish breakfast of leftovers. Piz then drove us to the city for a quick tour before I had to catch the bus back to Hahn at 3pm. It was probably the quickest tour around a city I had ever done but as they say short and sweet. My photos can tell.

Before we knew it it was goodbyes. It's always hard to say good bye to good friends even though we always know we'll meet up soon enough, wherever and whenever next. It was a great birthday weekend and am so glad I was part of it.

Well, Piz that was your birthday now looking forward to seeing you again next week in Malta for Christmas.

Merry Christmas and a Great New Year!

cheers Piz ;)

the last stop....Essaouira

2009-10-04T16:50:00.026+01:00

Salam ...once again

It was to be a long day on the road but the stops compensated quite well. After a couple of hours we came to a tiny village called Tazenakht, renowned for its Berber carpets. The village was dead. There was no one in sight. Abdul knocked on one of the low blue doors and after a while an old woman welcomed us. As she prepared us tea Abdul let us into the carpet workshop, more of a house turned workshop. We sat on cushions in infront of the large loom and like apprentices waited for the lesson.

She took the teacher's stand and started making small knots in the lines, then pushing them down with a huge comb. After a few minutes, a couple of us gave it a go. Might look simple but it required loads of patience, to say the least. It could take up to anything between 2 to 3 months to finish a carpet of about 2 x 2 metres, she explained. Furthermore, due to the intricate nature of the work and the vibrancy of the colours, no woman was allowed to work more than 4 hours a day.

The wool was all naturally dyed from pure indigo, saffron and kohl amongst others. She even showed us how to turn fluffs of wool into thread, another job for the patient ones. Her son joined us and eagerly took us to the 'shop'. The huge room was decorated with carpets with piles of them all along the parameter. Our eyes gazed as they unfolded one carpet after another. It was so tempting but I had to hold on having already bought one from Turkey years ago. But I did help Tricia and Chris buy one at a good price : )

Happy with our purchases we set off, stopping for lunch on the way. The afternoon brought us to the Saffron capital, Taliouine. I never thought I'd drink saffron as tea. Loved it. I bought about 5 pots of a gram each - the most exotic spice in the world at the cheapest price. Great!

We finally got to our destination for the day, Taroudent. A crammed city one-third the size of Marrakech but like it hustling and bustling with markets and hungry Muslims. We checked into our hotel whose deco must have been untouched from the early 70's. There was even a turn-dial phone in our room, how cool is that - or not!?
Me and some of the girls decided to go for a wonder before the life got sucked out of the streets. It was fast approaching 7pm. Just round the corner from our hotel were a few late-evening vendors. The fresh orange juice was hard to resist, so I invited the girls over for a glass.

That night we chatted about our dreams by the pool and after a nice shower had a lush dinner in the terrace over-looking the narrow but still busy street below.

Next morning we started the day with walk around the heart of the city. On our way I couldn't help buying some fresh fruit from the street vendors. We went up the fortifications of the city or rather the walls of the inner city, i.e. the Medina. There weren't any spectacular views but the walls were worth a few photos. We ended in the city's chaotic covered souq. The sun streamed on us as we emerged. Abdul decorated us with fresh mint stems in preparation of our next stop. Just outside of Taroudent, is the leather co-operative and man, it stinks.

Fresh animal skins hang loosely around the stone-basins in the large courtyard. A local guide made us walk through them patiently explaining each step of the process, as we just stuck the mint right up our noses trying to look as if we were fully interested! We visited the shops around the courtyard still trying to block the stink. The finished leather products were works of art; handbags, jackets, lamps etc... I was almost intrigued into buying a pouffe but resisted hoping to find it at a better deal somewhere else

Further along our long drive we stopped at Agadir, a well-developed town. We only got to visit its huge supermarket for our picnic lunch. The rest of our drive was all along the wild coast. The sea was so inviting after the heat of the desert. We stopped and had our lunches on the sand. I ran into the water so tempted to undress and get in for a dip. Well at least I did manage to get my rolled up trousers wet.
We then kicked the ball and rolled into the sand for a while before we hit the road again.

An extraordinary sight made us stop right in the middle of a long deserted highway. Goats on the trees. Yep! Strange but true. Berber goats are renowned for climbing trees to munch the nuts. Hard to believe until you've seen it!

We were almost there when we decided to stop at the last all-female argan oil co-operative. A team of woman transformed nuts to oil. Two types of oil is produced, one is edible (and really tasty with bread!) and the other found itself in beauty products. (Believe me the moisture cream saved my skin after a bad sunburn on the beach!!)Oh, and they also made tea out of it, of course.

We finally got to Essaouira. Its long stretched beach looked like something out of Australia's east coast. Its authenticity lay in the walls of the Medina; the heart of the city. We carried our backpacks to the Riad, brushing shoulders with the locals in the narrow busy streets. Our eyes gleamed at the colourful and arty stuff on display.

Riad El Mess is one of those hidden gems in the old Medina, originally a traditional ancient nobleman's house. Its main feature is the central courtyard, beautifully designed and decorated in wonderful Moroccan style. My photo just says it all.

We made ourselves comfortable on the long pristine sofa surrounded with colourful carpets and cushions. A lovely mint tea with special Moroccan sweets later we were ushered to our rooms. We felt like the king's special concubines in those rooms!

We hit the roof literally, in time to watch sunset over the wild sea crashing against the rocky islands, known as the Mogador. The air was full of sweet summer. Sea spray mist hung loosely over a tight cluster of flat-roofed houses only to be cut by swooping shrieking seagulls.

Dressed up ready for the night (well most of us were!) we stepped into the narrow streets again, this time lit by lanterns creating a romantic scene. Abdul took us to a popular restaurant where we were entertained by a small band playing drums and the rabab (one-string fiddle). The amydaz (lead of the group) who performs improvised poems, came round our table and tried rhyming our names into some Berber versus.

Later Abdul gave us a night tour of the Medina. We were all too tired to linger out for long, but looked forward to clubbing on our final night in Essouira.

Early the following morning, Abdul dragged us out of bed for a tourist-type tour around the Medina. A bright and larky local guide, Rashida, tried in vain to kick some life into us. We followed her around like a bunch of zombies, which somehow were absorbing in the history and wonderful sites of the amazing city.

We walked in and out of the laid-back artist's town once a Portuguese trading colony and home to British and Jewish populations. Essaouira is a busy fishing port. Its filthy harbour full of colourful boats. Our morning tour took us through the old Medina, Jewish Mellah, Port and Scala.

Apparently, as we obediently followed our leader around, like students on a school outing, a man was closely following us. I did not notice him but some other people in our group did. At some point the man stopped for a pee against the wall, nice but even nicer (not!) when he just ehhhhh.. even popped it there and then! Call it gross, strange, pervert, but it happened!

After our final stop at the silver co-operative I was so ready for my one hour massage. One of the best ones ever, none of us wanted it to end. We literally felt and smelt like roses after that. Hungry, we decided to try the fresh fish stalls for our late lunch. We picked our seafood, bargained hard and enjoyed a scrumptious lunch of grilled prawns, shrimps, calamari, fresh bread and salad. Stomachs full we strolled along the beach.

That evening Abdul took us to a cosy restaurant tucked in one of the dark alleys of the Medina. The restaurant was split into 3 large rooms. The food was good but best of all was the entertainment. Young Berber musicians sang, played guitar and bet their tam tams in unison like no other. We relished the performances and couldn't help joining in the fun especially after some xixa!

It was clubbing time. Abdul took us to the last floor on top of a fancy restaurant overlooking the bastions and the moonlit sea. The Bedouin-styled club was mostly empty but the music was good so having ordered a few drinks I was on the dancefloor. But before long a classic-Arab nerdy-looking group of 80's musicians, robbed the club off its club scene. However, the whining songs and music didn't deter me from the dance floor. I belly-danced galore and bet a few Spanish blokes at that :) Finally, our group got into the groove and it was fun till the wee hours of the morning.

Next morning I woke up early, packed, checked out and checked into my new Riad for my final night in Essouira. Rather then heading to Marrakech with the rest that afternoon, I had decided to spend another day there. I never lived to regret it.
I met Arlene and the others on the beach where we stayed and sunbathed till afternoon. We exchanged goodbyes and while they headed to their coaches I continued to enjoy the lovely ocean, sand and sun. Later, I wondered back to the Medina, enjoyed an ice-cream and got myself into shopping mode.

My first win was a red pair of babouche(slippers)followed by a silver-ornate gazelle-horn bracelet.

The 'blue man' was waiting for his next catch outside his shop when he saw me curiously looking at miniature nomadic tents, wondering what they could be used for. 'Cat's house!' he replied. Oh, interesting. 'Would you like me to show you some bracelets?' he insisted. And why not, I thought. This could be interesting.
I entered Ali Baba's cave and was made to sit on a small stool. The blue man sat opposite me across the small table. From a huge chest he drew a small knotted sack.
He spilt the contents on the table - a whole knotted bunch of bracelets. I picked and put aside the gazelle ones and quickly lost interest in the rest. He packed the bracelets neatly again and pulled out another sack, this time full of necklaces. But I told him I'm not interested and they're not my style and they're too bright and colourful ...bla bla bla...and he yet pulled sack after another.... until he gave up on this tom-boy of a woman!

"Ok, how much?" I asked.

He drew his notebook, licked the top of his pencil and without looking at me asked "How would you like the price in euros...?"

"Gosh!" I exclaimed. "Dirhams, please... how much could this possibly cost?"

"400 dirhams" (GBP30)

"What??!?!? No way"

"That is silver, made by hand....etc etc.."

"My friend bought one exactly like this for 50DM."

"50DM!!!!No no impossible it was fake!"

"Oh no!"

He insisted on the price and slowly started coming down. He got down by the hundreds I only went up by tens. Finally,

"I haven't got that money on me."

"I will send someone with you to your hotel and you can get some money from ATM and give it to him.."

"Oh no, sorry I'm leaving Morocco tomorrow so I'm not getting any more money."

"Well, I guess I better go cause I'm wasting my and your time then..."

And I walked out.

He ran after me, "Wait! Wait!"
"Ok, give me what you've got then..."

And so I bought it for 110DM - not bad a deal from 400DM!

Back at the Riad I spent the evening on the terrace. The sun absorbed my energy as well as the moisture off my skin. A shower later I was ready for bed. I forced myself to walk along the narrow streets of the Medina one last time. I floated along them until I found a small pizzeria in one of the alleys. I relished the proper Italian stone-oven baked pizza and finished off with some Ramadan special sweets from a local vendor.

Next morning after a good breaky, I packed and headed off to the beach. I hired a sunbed and lazed there for the rest of the day. I asked a local woman to do me a henna tattoo on my hand. She did just as I wanted it and in black.

Back at the Riad I picked my backpack and set off to the bus station to get the bus back to Marrakech.

I got there at about 7pm. A short cab drive and I was at my original start point; Hotel de la Menera. I knocked on Chris' and Tricia's door. It felt like days not a day since we last saw each other. We arranged for dinner at 8pm.

The last supper was consumed overlooking the square of the mosque. Thousands of men answered the prayers from the Rabi who's voice was amplified by speakers. They all stood then knelt again and again in unison facing the direction of Mecca. It was quite a site as we munched our lamb and veggie tagines. We hit the big square and market for the last time late that night. Jamaa el Fnawas chockfull of people.
We scouted around the souq for last minute bargains. I got the pouffe I so wanted and at a good price.

Time for goodbyes :(

Besalama Morocco !
Hope to visit you another time
Nicky
X

The Sahara

2009-09-26T20:53:00.023+01:00

Salam

Luckily it was a late start to the day. So we lousily indulged in a good breakfast of pancakes, bread and fresh orange juice then hit the road in our mini bus once again.

Not many exciting stops that day. En route to Ouarzazate we stopped at Intrepid sponsored Project Handicapped Horizon. Unfortunately, being Ramadan it was shut; everyone being on holiday. Pity I was in shopping mode ....

We got to Ouarzazate just before noon and bought some stuff for a picnic lunch. The tiny supermarket and patisserie didn't quite offer much so we stopped at a veggie and fruit souq further along the way to get our fresh food supplies. I think that was my highlight for the day, actually. Jacinta just followed me along the narrow streets crowded with more vendors than buyers. I swiftly scouted around taking note of the best looking fruit. A toothless old man sat on the floor with a small mount of purple ripe figs piled infront of him. I quickly went up to him for a demi-kilo but the neighbouring vendors suggested I buy a kilo as it was cheap. The poor old man looked at me bewildered almost as if he had never seen a foreigner or perhaps an 'uncovered' woman. He barely spoke as another man helped him fill up a bag. They were truly cheap disa dirham... (nine dirhams), which was about 80p.

After having purchased some bananas I finally targeted the two vendors with their wheel barrow just at the entrance of the souq. As I negotiated a price for apples in Arabic they tried to stick to their price by sticking in some grapes too. By the time I got back to the bus I had fruit to share with the entire group.

We stopped in a palmarie for lunch in the middle of a deserted road. It consisted of a small cluster of palm trees which provided shade to a well, a stone house, us and eventually a group of soldiers who stopped for a rest.

Onwards we got to the Draa Valley which was a line of trees along the deserted landscape. Our route led us to Zagora which was the last town before the empty vastness of the Sahara. The town was made of hotels surrounded by mountains. We checked in at Hotel La Fibule du Draa, a mini oasis; pool, bar (yes a bar serving alcohol!)and air-conditioned rooms with mini-bar fridge! There was no wasting of precious and luxury time for us girls. We changed into our bikinis and jumped into the pool. After some sun-bathing too, we got dressed and ready for the village tour.

A local dressed as a blue man of the Sahara led the way amongst palm trees and narrow sandusty roads. The village was lively with kids spinning their tops in the streets and mothers busy chatting out loud. We walked through the old abandoned Jewish mellah (quarters). Zig-zagging our way along the narrow passages of houses we got to the silver co-operative. The courtyard was a museum of old Moroccan antiques; teapots, daggers, plates and various pieces and forms of metal and wood craft.

After a quick lesson in how silverware was made we were taken to shop. Our guide was a hard bargainer not even I could beat him. Us girls found it hard to resist all that silver. Unfortunately as the saying goes, 'all that glitters is not (..in this case..) silver' so we fell for the intricate handwork of the tin!

Back to the hotel as the sun was setting and the air filling with prayers we had dinner by the pool followed by a drink at the bar.

Next day was the latest start ever, 10am. As some of us went for a dip, slept or lazed around, Michelle and I decided to go for a wonder. Just out of our road a bunch of camels were being prepared to mount some tourists. Further along we stopped gobsmacked at the beautiful mosaic-laced hotel. We took some pictures of the facade then peeped into the lobby. The receptionist quickly welcomed us to have a look at the huge pool and outdoor dining area. We descended and the shrivelled-looking barman beckoned us to check out the bar, fully-decked with spirits and smoke. The decor was impressive. The barman insisted on taking photos of us. It turned out he had quite a knack for photography and made us pose in every nook and corner of the bar, then in the 'royal' dining room, then plush lounge...he turned us girls into princesses. It was just fun. And he was enjoying it to and couldn't stop taking photos of us. We were running late. We quickly tipped and thanked him then literally ran in the sweltering heat back to our hotel.

Back on the road we made a stop at another local souq where I bought my light blue turban and jingling hip-scarf. I went straight to the stall with the most colourful hanging scarves and the owner quickly welcomed me. Before I knew it I was seated on a tiny stool being decorated with jewellery and scarves. It was fun and funny. I gave the man my camera to to take me a picture. Poor guy, he had never held a camera and twisted and turned it in his hands until he looked through the side of the lens. Laughing I showed him the correct way and in a click made me a diva!

I bargained hard for the two scarves, so hard that he pleaded I'd trade something with him. 'Like what?' I asked 'Your trousers perhaps!' He told me he had a regular visitor from Manchester UK who always brought him T-shirts and the like so he could resell them. (No wonder be know a bit of English too). I quickly said goodbye and hurried back to the bus. But my attractive scarf made Tricia want one so I was back at my habibi's stall. He was pleased I got him another actually three girl customers. Pity they didn't end up buying anything. Despite that we were still friends in the end :)

Another stop brought us to Tamegroute, the village of the famous library and potter ware. Tamegroute is home to an intriguing library filled with ancient scripts of science, literature, the Koran and stories of the prophet Mohammed. We walked along the corridors. Only workers renovating the site were to be seen as students were away on holiday. We entered the tiny library and our guide or rather teacher-from-our-childhood-nightmares was waiting for us. Clad in white, slapping a horsehair whip in hand, he led us from one book to another. Almost expecting us to learn the Arabic text by heart. Pretty scary and he did use his whip at times, ouch!

At the pottery coperative a friendly guide waked us through the stoves and clay rooms. It was quite fascinating looking at the clay modelling on the turntable...just like in the movie 'Ghost' (btw RIP Patrick Swayze!). We bought some vibrant coloured plates and bowls and mini tagines. I got a salt & pepper set and a mosque tower made out of mud sand for dad.

In less than an hour and a half we got to Ouled Driss village where we were made to wait till 5pm for our camel ride. We dumped our stuff in the permanent camp site. We lay in a large heat-sweltering and fly-droning room. It was lined a sofa from wall to wall topped with huge heavy cushions. Stoned by the heat of the day and in between snoozing, reading and gazing into nothingness, the hot wind from the Sahara blew in from the pane less windows in the thick walls. Outside the parapet with tables and chairs and a mini-bar selling soft drinks was a little more appetising. The back yard was the actual campsite with stone rooms and a shower & toilet area.

The hours slowly passed by. A few moments to the hour we started to get ready and helped one another to wear our turbans - all excited. Outside the camels were being mounted with saddles. Up and off we went. Riding a camel, even at a slow pace is quite a jolting experience, almost as if riding a horse on a gallop. We reached the edge of the tiny village and stepped into the great desert. It was quiet except for the whistling wind. Our guides were as dry as the sand. God knows how they did without water all day.

We got to some small dunes, dismounted and took even more photos. It was wonderful and didn't feel like going back already. Back at the camp we were quickly whisked off in 4WDs. They drove at high speed across the flat terrain. In less than an hour we got to the huge sand dunes. We jumped out and ran to top of one of them. From there we drank in the indescribable sunset and the effects it created around us. The sea of dunes was endless.

We ran down almost tumbling into balls of sand then lay on our backs to spot the first stars. We so wished we stayed out there in one of the nomad tents. But we had to head back to our camp in tiny village of Ouled Driss.

Dry, dusty and wide-eyed in rapture of all the excitement, we gulped some mint tea and wafers until dinner was served. We were still on a high and the beating of the drums kept our heartbeats at a peak for hours. The blue man, his fellows together with our driver and Abdul couldn't stop playing. Their rhythm kept us in motion; jumping, belly dancing and we even joined in the drumming at some point or other. It was a great evening and a brighter night awaited us.

The crew had lined a row of beds in the camping site so that night we all slept under the stars. What a scene. I couldn't blink an eye. The shooting stars took my wishes and breath away.

Roosters welcomed us back on planet earth at a very early hour. We struggled out of bed and hit the road still dozed with sleep.

Next...the beach!

sahha
Nicky

Mecca here we come... I mean Kasbah

2009-09-09T20:51:00.019+01:00

Salam again .....

We had a long drive ahead which was OK particularly cause I was fasting all day. I had to drink water though I couldn't go all Muslim-fanatic. I even diluted a rehydration sachet or two, into my bottle....(oh, now I feel guilty....) The truth has to be said.

It was a long winding mountain pass but with stunning reddish brown mountain views, various photos opportunities along the way. We came to another village and decided to discover its souq. It was much much smaller than the one in Marrakech but so typical with just one stall selling trinkets, necklaces, scarves aka tourist bait.

Arlene, Michelle and I couldn't help stopping to observe the colourful items. The vendor was very pleased to see us out of the blue that fine sunny morning!
He tried hard to sell me two trinkets which he succeeded in the end by talking me into the history of the 'silver' trinket box which he personally worked with years & years of craftsmanship experience...etc...etc.. could be true, whatever I liked it and the bright orange 'amber' stone one. In the meantime, Arlene and Michelle were being narrated another Arabian Night story of some scarf. The men then twisted colourful scarves on our heads turban style took photos of us modelling with them. Finally we got away without even buying one! Oh well, I'm sure we, at least I, paid twice the actual price for those trinkets, anyways.

Back on the road we stopped at a restaurant. Arlene, Abdul and I sat at a table away from the others to avoid any temptations, not that I was hungry with the heat and still whinging stomach. (Luckily I wasn't desperate for the loo again that day, btw!) We chatted about many things which turned out to be quite an interesting lunch!

A couple of hours later we got to the highest part of the Tizi n'Tichka. We stopped to take photos at the 2260m mark trying to avoid the hawkers and their fake trade.

The further up we drove, the darker and heavier the sky until it just burst on our backpacks which were tied on the roof of the bus.

We almost witnessed a what-could-have-been a fatal car accident. Suddenly, we saw a small crowd of people just running towards a low rubble wall on one side of the road. Our driver stopped and we all jumped out. A pickup van overturned a few metres below on the other side of the wall. Abdul called for the two (psychiatric) nurses in our group, Gaby and Petra. But luckily to our relief the driver, who was the only person in the vehicle, escaped unscathed and was actually pacing up and down checking damages to the car.

Finally Ait Benhaddou....

We checked into our lovely sand-camouflaged hotel and a quick fresh-up and tea later (not for me this time!) we made our way to the world-renowned Kasbah. Before which however, Arlene and I tried to make a very special request to the hotel's management. It was Abdul's birthday. He mentioned it during lunch and even told us how the group he was touring with last year, had ordered him a birthday cake. Then he tried to explain to us the weird assumptions that made his, as well as his (I forgot how many) brothers their birth day. As things happened, even more back in his mother's earlier days when more people were illiterate, the state would only guess when the mother would have had the child by the time they'd register it. So irrespective of the number of days or year, they recorded a date, which date would apply for every subsequent brother or sister. Because the year was also a guess Abdul just figured his to be the 26th! Well, he kind of looked it so it was pretty convincing.
Anyways, with whatever rusty French I could sum up, I tried to pose our request for a Birthday cake for Abdul. But all I got was blank faces and head shakes. It was twice as hard cause Muslims do not celebrate Birthdays on a yearly basis. There's only one big fuss at birth but then everyone forgets even your parents. That, coupled with the term 'cake' was a mission to get the message across. Moroccans have a full range of pastries and sweets but no such thing as a round, 20/30cm wide baked cake used to celebrate anything!
Finally, they promised to look for some gateaux at the next village which was kms away. We even tried to ask if they could bake us some but they insisted on checking whether there was any ready available.

We walked down the road then crossed a wide water-drained river. The Kasbah is truly a living film set. It's amazingly beautiful. Not sure whether its rudimentary architecture with minimal, if any mosaic stonework, is what makes it appealing or the remoteness and solitude that dwells in its stepped alleyways. Only a few families live there nowadays. We treaded to the summit as quietly and discreetly as we could. It was breathtaking - the whole experience and not just the view at the top. The sun was descending in an almost cloudless sky turning the desert land around the Kasbah and Ait Benhaddou into a deep red sea.
We were lost in that heaven until Abdul made Arlene and myself head back downwards to break the fast. Oh, so wanted to stay till it was dark but I had had decided to live the day otherwise.

Back at La Rose du Sable the hotel stuff were waiting for us in the veranda. I enquired about the gateaux and this time I got smiles and nodding heads and lots of 'petite petite gateaux...' reassurances. Whatever, missioned accomplished! They then invited us into a backroom where to our surprise, we found a table full of food and drink waiting to break the fast. We were seated on a wall-to-wall sofa and offered orange juice, coffee, tea, water, harira soup, really sweet sweets, dates, baguette, pancakes, eggs and so much more. We were so astonished by the hospitality or rather the sense of being part of the community for having fasted - no questions asked - that we only got to nibble and sip at some of all that manna.

Later we joined the others for dinner, stomachs almost full. Abdul, true to his early announcement, made us dance to the beat of the drums. Together with other members of the hotel stuff we had a great show to which we rapped, Scottish and country-danced to ...whatever made us move to the beat. It was fun. But the part I enjoyed most was actually playing the drums, bring it on!

Finally, the manager brought along Abdul's 'birthday cake' or rather petite gateaux, that is, an assorted array of local sweets.
We presented Abdul with a signed postcard and sang happy birthday, all to his surprise. It was a great evening and despite having spent most of it at the back of the minibus, we were exhausted.

On our way to bed, we lingered by the pool for a lovely cuppa of sweet mint tea. But the night wasn't over for Abdul. Just as he stooped to flick some water at Kate from the pool, big-Aussie-block Phil gave him 'a lovely pat' on the bum which completely and literally, threw him off board, landing straight in! Before I even realised what had happened I saw Abdul quickly scrabbling out of the water and in desperation emptying his pockets from soaked mobile phones, money, keys and birthday postcard :(
He was not so OK about the whole thing just cause well, both phones were ruined, thankfully not the SIM cards. Oh well, he didn't get the full 26 typical-Aussie-birthday punches but he got one hell of a pat! It definitely was a memorable birthday after all!

Having blow-dried the phones and drank our tea we dragged ourselves to bed, eager for the next day and whatever lay ahead.

Sahha for now unless you want to read my next entry about The Sahara
Nicky
X X X

The Atlas Mountains

2009-09-07T19:58:00.022+01:00

Salam ghalikom!

Next morning we started our trip away from Marrakech. In two hours we got to Imlil - a small village at the foot of the mountains. We left our big backpacks in a guesthouse and let the mules carry our overnight packs. We then started marching upwards. The day was hot but luckily trees shaded most of our path. We had stunning views along the way in particular the village and the building which served as fil set for Tibetan Dalai Lama's movie 'Kundun'.

We got to the Aremd a tiny village at 1960m altitude and were welcomed to our mountain gite for the night. Gite Omar Id Mansour was not quite what I expected. It was a lovely, quite lush, hospitable and cosy mountain guesthouse.
It was built of half-a-metre thick mud walls which kept it nice and cool. It's arid rooms were decorated with Moroccan sofas and carpets. The guesthouse was made up of small dorms with comfy beds and had one shower and one Western loo too. Not to mention a Coke vending machine (wonder how they managed to get that up there by mule!) and a long dining area. The roof, turned terrace gave away breathless views of the valley below rising to the mountains.

Having taken in the view we settled for a mint tea before lunching on rice, Moroccan salad and Berber tagine omelette. Stomachs full we started preparing for a 4-hour trek up the valley but to our surprise it started to rain pretty heavily. Not well-equipped we decided for (probably the best) alternative option, the hammam. The hammam are the local public baths; one for men and the other for women. The building, generally situated in the middle of the village, is split into 3 tiled sauna rooms, one warmer than the other. A local woman (for us girls, that is) is endeavoured with the task of scrubbing the 'bathers' with a luffa ....

Me and another four girls of the group ventured for it. We undressed to our bikinis but wasn't before long that we were ordered to strip off. Rather than having a big mama do the job, a meagre 14-year old stripped in seconds and gestured us to fill up the buckets from the taps within the rooms. She didn't know any English and hardly any French. She then made us sit on the floor in a circle and started to splash us with water. She gave us some argan oil soap each to rub ourselves with. It was like being kids again. Before we knew it gone were all the inhibitions. We started to splash one another with water included Aisha. It was fun and funny. We let our bodies steam in the second room as we took it in turns to be scrubbed hard, well whatever strength the Ramadan-starved girl had.

Another splash of water and a quick shoulder and neck massage later we were clean as ever and bonded forever. We secretly tipped Aisha and headed back to the gite in the rain, not that we really minded it after such a thorough body cleanse!

Rain stopped and we set off on a 'walk around the village' with our leader Abdul. We walked down the stepped slope of the village into the valley and crossed over to ascend the other side of the valley. We were then invited over for tea, nuts and dates at Abdul's friend. We sat on wet chairs on the roof but the view kept us on our feet clicking our camera at the lovely now sunset mountain scenery.

We got back to the gite just in time before a strong wind and storm hit hard. Cosy inside another sweet mint tea with fried tasteless bread awaited us.
We chatted until it was dark.
Just before dinner Aisha came around this time as henna artist. Us girls eagerly jumped in, eventually the guys got their palms tattooed too. She quickly drew floral designs with a needless syringe filling it with brown henna paste from a mug. It looked gross but when the thing dried it revealed a masterpiece.

In-between the tattoo making we took in turns to sit on tiny stools in the tiny kitchen watching the women cooking our dinner. The family who prepared our meals lived in a house a flight or two of stairs below the gite. They steamed the couscous in a huge sieve on a huge pot over a tiny one-burner stove. Amazing how they managed to cook for the mass with such facilities.

Dinner served and we eagerly tucked in only to follow with a series of stomach cramps! My stomach literally churned as Abdul traced the long drive that lay ahead of us on the wall map.

That night Arlene and I had decided to fast the next day. So to be part of customs we had to be woken up at 3am for breakfast then fast the rest of the day till sundown. I couldn't bet an eyelid, waiting for that dreaded knock on the door. I really wasn't up for eating anything let alone have breakfast at that hour. Time came and we were summoned in the lounge area. Together with Abdul we nibbled on some dates, dry bread and jam. We drank plain hot water as Abdul made himself a yoghurt milk-powdered drink. Arlene and I chatted for a while and went back to bed. I slept only to wake up to make full use of the lovely Western toilet! By 9am the poor loo was far from its original white pristine state as the rest of the crew joined in my early morning prayers.

Packed up and ready to leave the loo..I mean gite, we headed downwards, back to Imlil were our friendly driver and backpacks waited for us. Despite the sour ending it we all enjoyed a great day up in the mountains.

if you enjoyed reading this, check out Day 3!

sahha
Nicky X X X

Morocco Express

2009-09-05T17:19:00.023+01:00

Salam!

I landed in Marrakech at 9 or 10 or 11pm....not sure!?!? It was the eve of Ramadan and all I heard was an hour change from GMT time, forward or backward???!?
I tried to get some cash but the only two ATMs at the airport weren't working. So I had to exchange some of my euros and sterling to Dirhams. Out of the airport I was hailed by a small gang of taxi drivers desperate for my money.

Hotel de la Menera met my expectations unfortunately, not the best hotel in Marrakech. I opened my liner and tried to sleep in the heat-steaming room. (only to discover that there was an air condition hidden behind the curtains the next morning!). I walked through the heavily mosaic decorated lobby, lounge and huge dining area. The place needed a good clean as much as a time machine to bring it back to the future. A middle-aged man with a bark wood face brought me breakfast of coffee, milk, diluted orange juice, a fresh croissant and baguette with accompanying preservatives. I wolfed everything down read for the day. I asked the man for the time. He didn't know any English nor French as much. He got the question after a number of repeats and delved into answering it by showing me his Nokia. It said 19.54. Ok was not sure what that was supposed to imply. Suddenly, he seemed to remember and blurted 'dix heure..' Glad I was in time for breaky and the day ahead then.

I went to the receptionist to ask for an ATM close by and the souq (market). She indicated the ATM but as for the souq it was too early especially being the first day of Ramadan. My eye caught the huge wall clock and read 8.20am. Oh! so long for more sleep. I got the money and went back to bed!

The heat of the day started accelerating. On asking for directions again I met the group leader, Abdul. He quickly highlighted the main sites on a local map and I set off. My aim was to get to the infamous souq Jamaa el Fna. The Hotel was situated just outside the old Medina walls which enclosed narrower streets, a public garden and the Koutobia mosque. Instead of heading to the left of the mosque I headed towards the direction of Mecca. Getting lost in the roads and streets turned out to be quite an adventure.

I found myself in a square surrounded by craft shops then noticed one of the tourist attractions, the Saadian tombs which date back from the time of the sultan Ahmad al-Mansur (1578-1603). The tombs were discovered in 1917. The tombs are beautifully decorated and I don't recall seeing as elaborate for the rest of the trip.

Having discovered the tombs I thought I might as well try to find the Palais de Bahia which was only a few metres away according to the map. Along the way I discovered a locals local market in one of the narrow side streets. Intrigued I got lost amongst the crowds of mainly women shopping their daily cooking needs. The alleys fragranced of mint, fresh herbs and spices. It felt great not being harassed by the vendors. The locals barely noticed me. I finally got back on the road and started to walk towards the palace with the help of some directions. I never actually got to the Palace as I had enough of walking in circles in and out of the great grounds and never-ending walls surrounding it. Lured by the buzz back at the locals market I started to make my way back.

Along the way I came across a small weaving home-based workshop. I couldn't help stopping to observe. The two men work hard and steadily at the looms. Ahmed was friendly and let me take photos as he explained the process in broken English. we communicated in bits of Arabic and somehow managed a conversation about Ramadan before he proudly showed me how thread was made with the (literally) spinning wheel to then weave beautiful satin and coloured cotton scarves amongst other things.

I was so glad with the encounter that I was prepared to tip or even buy something. I grabbed a lovely handbag and he lured me into choosing a scarf too. I couldn't resist finding it hard to decide between three. Ahmend beckoned me to follow him for a mera (mirror). Just across the tiny sun-drenched road was a coiffure. We just marched in and Ahmed asked the big hairdresser who was doing a client's blow dry whether we could use the mirror. As he put the scarves around my neck the hairdresser grumpily shook her head disapprovingly until the last one for which she nodded vigorously. Scarf chosen the price haggling was next. When in the right state of mind I could be a tough chick to deal with. In this case I felt quite lenient having made friends and they were nice to me. Moreover, Ahmed also invited me for a harira (Ramadan soup) with his family that evening. That was quite special but had to refuse as I was meeting the group for the first time that night. Pity but .. Happy with my encounter and purchase I retraced my route to the crammed market again. I was adamant on buying spices were the local women did their shopping.

I queued well technically speaking. I'd say crowded with other fully-cladded women infront of the tiny shop's counter heavily decked with steel barrels full of powdered spices. As I tried to sneak in, a man came by my side trying to chat me up. He looked middle-aged and least attractive especially with a dangling half rotten tooth on the front of an otherwise toothless mouth. He tried to tell me that it is Ramadan today and I acknowledged. He then delved into explaining what Ramadan is about '...no food, no drink and no sex!' 'Are you fasting?' I asked. 'Me no fasting!' 'Oh! I fasting!' I replied quickly in some sort of Arabic. Then he said '..you and me rancontre...' then getting my puzzled face he asked whether I had a husband. I quickly replied yes and showed him my ring (the one I always wear on my 4th finger...you know, just in case!) and further explained that he's at the hotel. He wasn't too pleased. In between all this I was trying to buy the powdered spices asking the vendor what each one was. Somehow I ended up buy 250grams worth of cummin and another of suffron and they cost me less than a GPB1! I quickly scuttered off this time determined to find the big souq.

I got there in the end. The big square wasn't as bustling and crowded as I would have expected. I bought half a litre of freshly squeezed jus d'orange from one of the desperate wagon vendors. I was so thirsty. Carrying it around to avoid drinking in public was one hell of a sacrifice. The main souq was a myriad of alleys which at that hour and heat of the day weren't so appealing. I leisurely walked along its parameters until I decided to call it a day.

On my way back I relished some shade in the mosque's garden drinking the now warm jus d'orange.

Back at the hotel I decided I'd kick off a bit of holiday feeling and enjoyed the pool.

I met the rest of the group at around 6pm and after an intro to the tour from Abdul we headed for the Djemma el Fnaa which is the big souq turned into rows of al fresco restaurants. Before choosing one though our apetites were excentuated by a lamb head stall displaying all sorts sizes including teeth, tonges and brians. Great photo opportunity if anything else! The restaurants displayed fresh food which you could pick, have cooked and enjoy with saffroned couscous, flat bread and olives.
Four of us girls decided to get a mix of everything so we tasted the Moroccan salad, the fried fish, the tender beef with veggies, the famous baked aubergines.... all so yummy. I was starving by then having only lunched on water and jus d'orange.
We finished off with was to be the first in a series of high-poured very sweet mint tea!

Later J, Michelle, Arlene and myself wondered off around the Square peering at the amateur performing groups, playing drums and traditional guitars. I was eager to see a cobra charmer or a tooth picker but there weren't any that night. We couldn't help noticing that all the performers including the heavily-clad belly dancers were men!
Infact there were hardly any women out and about except for a few who were accompanyting their husbands. We walked around peering into the small crowds to get a glimpse of the playing bands. Then a member asked us to sit on the surrounding wooden benches in full view of both the band and their audience. We felt quite aware of our presence. The band played passionately at the light of a lantern in the centre of the circle. The same guy suddenly reached for my hand and invited me to dance to his steps. I was itching to join but wasn't sure given the Ramadan and no-women situation. Whatever, I jumped into it and it was fun. Eventually, we managed to get Arlene to dance with us too and before we knew it the crowd around us doubled to say the least. We spent the next hour or so in-between enjoying the music and being asked to dance again, again and again.
Enjoy some Berber live music yourself!

It was a good night which well prepared us for our great Moroccan Express trip :)

read more in the next episode...
sahha
Nicky
X X x

Up & down the Jurassic Coast

2009-05-25T19:15:00.036+01:00

hello!

the Jurassic Coast gets its name from the thousands of fossils embedded in the rock strata and some even found along pebbled beaches. Dorset's coastline is a proof of prehistoric predators that trod the land and swam the oceans at the time (195 million years ago). Dinosaur footprints to fossilised crocodiles and large squid are amongst major findings. I couldn't believe my eyes when I visited a tiny fossils museum in a pub in Wort Matravers. Who'd ever thought the croc was native to Britain too?

Well over the past 3 days I might as well have discovered another aspect of this Jurassic Coast; it jaws. Its steep up and downhills took my breath away in every sense!

Saturday 7.30am saw me snoozing on a train from Reading to Bournemouth. In Bournemouth I took a bus to get to Sandbanks where a ferry transported passengers, cars and double-deck buses over a mere two miles of sea crossing.

Shells beach is the end point of the South West Coast Path. As I turned to start my walk I looked for my first signpost. Spotted and....wow now that's one kind of trek!

I am quite an ambitious person but not till that point. My end destination for this long weekend was Weymouth, a total of 40 miles. I set off leisurely, strolling along the sandy beach trying hard to look ahead and avoid sneaky peaky at the 'naturists' (the term the Brits use to describe the'nudists). But how to avoid a man running along the beach coming in your direction with nothing on but a hat and a backpack?!?!!?

Anyways, the 'path' serpented its way high up onto the cliffs from where I got fantastic views of the chalky Pinnacles. Within minutes I was strolling the old streets of a little village made up of an ancient overgrown pub and manor.
Walking along (so far no major hills) I found myself in tiny but busy Swanage. A typical British seaside village with red & white striped deckchairs, a Punch & Judy puppet show stall, ice-cream vendors and for some occasion local folk dancing in the middle of the street. I relished the atmosphere and breathed in the smell of fish and chips! Far from the maddening crowd I sat on the edge of a cliff overlooking the expanse of the sea and enjoyed a mini lunch.

I walked into a tiny park almost like back gardens of the surrounding manor houses. Then before I knew it I was in Valletta! No way, yes way! I came across the Durlston Castle and it had two lookouts identical to the ones that guard the Grand Harbour back in Malta. Oh well, I suppose lookouts are or were lookouts, but how co-incidental is the style?!

I walked along the lovely cliffs now in the piercing rays of the sun. I took a tea break on the Dancing Ledge watching climbers hanging to dear life against the cliffs while families frolicked on the rocky beach. It was growing late so I hed to find Worth Matravers and my lodging for the night. I walked through what seemed miles of field land when finally I got to the Winspit track, which according to the directions would lead me to a row of 'London' cottages, a duck pond, a Square & Compass pub and a Newfoundland Close in which a Chiltern Lodge occupied the fourth plot of land.

I almost tiptoed my way across the pretty garden. In the porch, I carefully removed my dirty walking boots and was immediately greeted by David then wife Ann. David showed me around and took my to the guest bedroom. Ah such a welcome! Almost felt like home. I showered and dashed back out to enjoy the last rays of the sun. Later David entertained me with his travel and charity work stories when Mr & Mrs Sawkins (the other guests) made their way in. I shared a lovey dinner with them prepared by Ann; salmon finished off with rhubarb crumble (yummy!)

An early night prepared me for the second day which according to David would be 'the most energetic' and so it was. Back from where I had ended the previous day I hiked high up the cliffs I was just in time for the morning rise of the compass flag by the National Coast Guard outside the lookout on St Aldhelm’s Head.

After a couple of steep climbs and runs down the hills (the fun bit!) I thought I lost the Path for a while as I landed in the middle of a field of grazing sheep. Then a little lamb showed me a signpost well hidden in the grassy ground.
Back on track I got to beautiful and quite Chapman's Pool, then up and down the roller coaster again I eventually ended up in crowded Kimmeridge Bay. I had a bite to eat amongst little kids throwing pebbles in water and the bigger ones splashing around or doing the same.

Within half a mile I found myself within the military range so walkers were made to walk within the yellow markers. The view from up there was stunning all along. The sun shone brightly in the clear blue sky. It was a great afternoon to be outside breathing all that pure air and sweating it out!

Just when I thought I had another couple of hours of walking, I got to my destination for the day, Lullworth Cove. Gosh it was crowded! Its small circular bay was packed, so was its one and only street to the centre of the village. Ice-cream parlours, inns, kiosks, tiny shops, boats, cars, everything seemed to be in the way yet it was all that clutter that made it alive.

I had a huge honey, ginger and lemon ice-cream, which was well worth it then David picked me up and I was driven back to Worth Matravers to spend another night there since Lullworth Cove was chock full. It was only thanks to David and his wife's thoughtfulness that I managed to enjoy such a weekend in Dorset.

That evening I had dinner with the Sawkins again and a Norwegian Tom, who actually flew to trek the coast for 10 days. We shared interesting conversation then after another scrumptious dinner we visited the only pub in Worth Matravers. The evening was clear and it never got dark before 10pm, so we enjoyed our drinks with many others al fresco.

Next morning it rained pretty steadily for about an hour but by the time we got back to Lullworth Cove it stopped and never poured again for the rest of the day. I said bye to David and set off for the final part of my journey. I finally got to the one of (if not the) highlights of the my track's coastal scenery. Durdle Door is just a stunning spectacle.

Another roller coaster ride took me to Ringstead Bay where I enjoyed a break on the seashore. The sun was still trying to come out. The track deviated from the coast and brought me further inland so I could only see the sea from a distance. As I hastened my pace I hit the ground almost running after the final ascent. And there I was back into noisy civilisation at Weymouth. The final long stretch of the smooth promenade was bliss and even more so with the sun riping the summery scene.
I really wished I could linger on that beach for hours but I had to call it a day and start my homeward journey, about a three hour train ride.

It truly was a well spent bank holiday weekend :)

..mmmmm..wonder where will I be going next???

bye for now
Nicky

how do I find myself here?

2009-05-18T23:57:00.002+01:00

hi all

Funny how out of all the places I've been I find myself back in the UK, it's almost as if I've done a full circle. Everything happened so fast, I'm still catching up with myself! I don't think I have come to terms with the fact that this is where I'll be staying for a while. Well, 'a while' meaning a year or so, perhaps. There are reasons of course, and probably ones I have not even thought about.

Music in my ears took me miles away. Nostalgia came to me in ripples. I couldn't even decide whether to be happy or sad. The train stopped. The door pulled open letting in a chilly breeze and the rustling sound of the trees swaying in twilight. The breeze made me shudder. The door slid shut and the train took off. "Here I am again. Or should I say here I go again!" I thought.

goodnight x
N

New Zealand, sweet as...

2009-03-13T04:52:00.006Z

Kiaora everyone!!!

I fell in love with lovely New Zealand! These past 2 months have just been amazing. I've got so much to tell you but since I'm still busy travelling I've written a short poem for now which captures one of my many encounters with NZ's nature. I'll update the blog with all the juicy bits over the next weeks...promise!

A walk to the (Huka) falls

water gushing tearing at the walls of the stream
sweat dripping in the cannal of my back

red berries in the midst of green & brown
drop of blood on my sun-burnt skin

river of liquid jade, opal and emerald
adorning my weary body to that of a queen

snow tipped volcano across the lake
lick of a sweet cool ice-cream cone

Happy Days to all!
love
Nicky
X X X

Farewell Australia

2009-01-13T08:51:00.002Z

The first time I landed you welcomed me with grey sky and rain
Today I leave with a warm salute from the sun shining in a limpid blue sky

I found you a kaleidoscope of colours…..

The stark whiteness of the shells on the harbour
Translucent blue and green waters gracing the coastline
Blood-red pumping heart bleeding into soils around it
Miles of nothing but earthly coloured rock and sand
Showers of green lush rainforests, waterfalls and gorges
Drought cracked acres when quenched give birth to new livestock
A limb which drifted apart now stands like a shimmering diamond ring

Alive, with a bounce, a bite, a song; some form of life in every nook and drop

Your people, they have no colour; history blended them into one, that which is Australian.

Already missing you,
Nicky

The first (calendar) day of the year

2009-01-01T11:49:00.003Z

The English word calendar is derived from the Latin word kalendae, which was the Latin name of the first day of every month.* A calendar in layman words (or world) is actually quite symbolical rather than a matter of fact. First day of the year; a ‘go’ date to turn grandly-worded resolutions into actions, perhaps.

Today, I find myself in Sydney. Where will I be in a year’s time? Where will I be tomorrow? Life as a traveller and / or a nomad has no dates, days, weekends etc… each day could be the first day of the year. Every day is a new beginning. The opportunity to embrace life and make the most of it. So, effectively today is a another day about to be lived.

The sun is shining, it’s warm and I’m getting ready to go to the beach. On days like today I’m in high spirits. I feel comfortable, enwrapped by a great sense of safety; surrounded by people who care while savouring nature at its best. I wouldn’t have spent the first calendar day of 2009 in any way other than swimming in the nude on the pretty tiny beach of Congwang in New South Wales!

Happy Day everyone and may it be the first of a series!
Nicky
X

* source: wikipedia

Sabah of Borneo: from city to jungle to a homestay

2008-11-18T00:18:00.032Z

Selamat Datang (welcome....yet again!)
note: Malaysian and Indonesian are so similar they don't admit it but it's practically the same language!!

I made it to Borneo when I could have easily landed in Cambodia! The check-in guy had given us back the wrong tickets so that Marg had mine and I hers. Luckily, she realised while chatting and fumbling with the ticket pouch on our way to Kuala Lampur. So in the end my backpack and I made it to Kota Kinabalu.

It was dark by the time I got out of the airport and was glad I had pre-booked a transfer to the hotel. The taxi driver was very humble and helpful. He pointed out the main attractions along the way like the mosque and the museum then also gave me a map of KK (Kota Kinabalu) for free. Sweet as .....

Asia Hotel is situated in 'Asia Complex' - a maze of narrow streets in-between building blocks, which streets served an abundance of fresh and cooked food for fully cladded and Ramadan-starved locals. The hotel was nothing grand quite small and tight actually but good enough for a couple of nights.

Next morning I was up and wondering in the main streets of the capital. Thankfully, it wasn't as smoggy and chaotic as Jakarta in Indonesia. There were a number of shopping malls along the way and hotels including a Hyatt just on the seafront facing the Tunku Abdul Marine Park; cluster of hilly green islands stretched along the deep blue coast. I checked out the phone shops for a local SIM card, the bookshop for a book about the 'Land below the Wind' then scouted for any open warungs for some food. There were only Chinese, of course.

I caught a taxi to the State Museum situated just out of the city. It wasn't one of the best I had visited however the heritage cultural village more than compensated for it. The rainforest grounds around the building hosted different typical long houses on stilts. I was looking forward to spending a couple of days in one of them.

That evening I toured the outdoor food markets which lined the coast of Kota Kinabalu. They were the best I had been to so far. There were a number of stalls for each type of fruit; bananas, coconuts, mangoes etc. A whole section just made and sold ABC - the locals favourite sweet slush made of crushed ice, pink and green syrup, condensed milk, corn kernels, macaroni (pasta), sounds awful but actually delicious. I bought one and sipped it out of a thick straw from a black plastic bag tied up by a rubber band at the top, just like the locals had it.

I enjoyed the sunset over the water then later ventured over the other part of the market. The fresh fish sellers yelled at the top of their lungs it an attempt to beat next door competition. My eyes feasted at the sight of such an array: snappers, prawns, sting-rays, calamari and so many other exotic types. Further up, the Fillippino market was one big smokey aroma as every type of fish was being BBQed.

The group started gathering in the tiny hotel reception area. Suddenly, a skinny, short and dark-looking local emerged out of the lift and beckoned us to go upstairs in his room, where there would be more space to hold the first team meeting. Mohd Hanafiah Abd Hamid, better known as Hana, summarised our journey in-between fits of chuckles. This was Han's typical way of delivering a speech. I think it was his way of musking his nervousness before embarking on an adventure or activity of which we were were oblivious too not having already experienced it before, of course. He later took us for dinner at a local warung close to the hotel.

We were a mix of nationalities split between couple and groups; two couples and a bunch of girlfriends from the UK,two other girlfriends from the US, then there was a West Aussie guy and myself.

Early next morning we huddled in the hotel's reception with our backpacks and waited for the taxis which were on ramayana time, that is, late. The heavy rain pelted on us as we walked to the bus then back to a Chinese restaurant for breakfast. None of us were that hungry for fried rice or noodles but the traditional dum sums (steamed buns) filled with red bean, butter, chicken or pork were to every one's liking.

The coach was air-conditioned and had a tiny toilet at the back which made the whole vehicle stick badly of urine throughout the five hour journey. Later that afternoon we were dropped at the side of a main road and walked with our backpacks to a tiny village leading to the banks of the Kinabatangan river. The village was called Batu Puteh. Right at the very end of the village, on the river's bank edge, was MESCOT's centre - a conservational and ecotourism cooperative which organises forest habitat awareness projects as well as homestays. www.mescot.org

We were welcomed by the young staff who had prepared us a lovely lunch of noodles and homemade sweets in the open space; a rooved wooden floor overlooking the jungle and river. The only enclosed room was the kitchen and the two toilets. Stomachs full we were then introduced to our whereabouts, MESCOT'S mission and our agenda for the next two days. Ina, and her assistant Lina made excellent jobs out of the several tasks performed from guides to cooks to organisers.

Later in the afternoon we prepared for the jungle. First we soaked our skins in DEET then made sure we were covered in layers of clothing from head to toe. Us girls even wore our socks on top of our trousers as an extra protection against leech bites. We were such a laughing site there was definitely no room for sex appeal! Next we packed our daypacks leaving our bigger backpacks behind. We loaded our bags alongside food, hammocks and other camping stuff on one of the river boats and jumped onto the adjacent one.
We were motored down the river and in about half and hour got to the disembarking point - a narrow muddy space in-between the trees on the river's bank. We created a human chain, unloaded the stuff and started marching into the thick jungle. It was exciting as much as nerve-wrecking. I was fascinated by the surroundings, finding it hard to believe I was actually there at the same time keeping an eye at the pair of feet infront of me; checking for blood suckers.

We got to the campsite which was just a small cleared area with some felled branches turned into benches and a piece of canvas dangling from the trees around. Our guides spread out another piece of the fabric on the floor on which they later lay food and drink. We dumped our stuff and were taken to the dorm. A few steps away from the main campsite, situated at the edge of a lake was a regeneration area full of young trees. Ina and crew showed us how to set up our hammocks for the night. After some juggling and messing around with ties and ropes and some aid from Han, we were ready to be taken on another boat trip further down the river while the crew prepared dinner. The fresh breeze lulled me to sleep as my skin heaved with heat and perspiration under the layers of clothes. I was stirred by calls of animal sightings; hornbills, herons, proboscis monkeys, silvertails amongst others.

We marched back to the camp again this time in pitch black as dusk fell upon us. The only lighting at camp were lanterns and torches. Our senses pitched high every time we went off to the loo a few metres away from camp. The crew had kindly dug a whole in the ground, placed a roll of paper beside it and stuck a garbage bag on a branch for our convenience. I had oversighted this set up completely thinking that we could use any of the area along the roped pathway away from camp! Whichever, wherever and however we did it we were anyway exposing our private parts to moths, leeches, spiders,mossies and whatever other crawling or flying insects where around.

No dramas until Emma suddenly shrieked the hell out of everyone at dinner as she sighted a tiny leech on her long white (supposedly anti) leech socks! "Get it off! Get it off!" she yelled. Sounds worse than it actually was.

There was only one particular incident. Corinne had noted a huge looking worm on the table. We peered into it and jerked back the second we realised it was a thumb-thick leech. "Wonder whose blood it's full of?" Cor enquired. It only took Han seconds to find out. He pointed at Chris stained T-shirt. Chris hadn't even felt or realised the blood sucker was dangling off the side of this stomach!

That evening we dinned on rice, chicken and veggies and drank tea from the huge boiling kettle over the open fire.

Dinner and teas over we were invited for a night hike. Not that everyone was keen at the idea, however.... We carefully treaded over leaves, branches, roots and god knows what, amongst the tall trees, straining ears and eyes for abnormal noises and movements. I kept my torch rays onto the ground, a bit sceptic of where I put my step. At one point, as our guide stopped to explain creatures of the night we could encounter and was busy flashing his torch light onto trees feet high when I caught sight of a hoard of scurrying ants round our feet. I tapped on his back and asked him what they where, keeping my light on the ground. The second he looked he yelled, "Fire-ants! Run!" and before I knew it he vanished. Needless to say, we followed.
In the jungle every living creature is as large as you would see it under a microscope, so that, lizards were reptiles, spiders big as the palm of your hand, leaves half the size of a human being. To our disappointment, at the same time relief, we didn't bump into some wild animal.

Back at the camp, scathe free of leeches or other insects we tempted our luck with a visit to the squat loo before bed. I prayed I wouldn't have to get up during the night; wrestling out of my cocoon without falling onto a heap of crawling insects below me; undoing my walking boots, which I tied to the tree, without dropping them; finding my head torch and not having to pee in utter darkness.... Oh, so many thoughts! I took a deep breath and lay like a mummy letting the gentle breeze rock me to sleep.

I managed quite a good sleep actually until the crew woke us up at 7am for a morning walk. Sleepy-eyed we tracked the same track we did the previous night. Was wondering whether they were sceptic of tackling new paths in the jungle. In any case the scenery looked different, of course. This time we could see the huge trees and what they were made of.

Breaky of noodles and tea we took off upstream back to MESCOT centre. We unloaded the boats and got back on them as our crew took us for a cruise further up the river. The sun was hot and burning but the journey wasn't void of life. At one point Han spotted an orangutan, lazily perched on the branch of a tall leafless tree. It was the only time I'd seen one out in the wild as in not in a reserve.

We had a change of clothes but no shower back at the Centre then the crew dressed us in aprons ready for our cooking lesson. We had to cook our own lunch according to the menu provided. Michelle and I chose to try out the pineapple curry with Fatima.
Our cooking skills lacked the grace and dexterity of our chef of course, so it took us ages to peel and finely chop pineapple and potatoes. We stirred them and other ingredients: chili, coconut powder, fish sauce and fried garlic in a wok....mmm smelt yummy! Thanks to everyone we had a lovely lunch which included mango salad, fried fish, rice and pawpaw for dessert.

After lunch crew and all staff at MESCOT changed prepared for a stage performance. We enjoyed a show of traditional dances of women, men and couples as well as the changes in colourful costumes accompanied by the gamelan band. After the show we tried our hands at it. So I played one of the bigger gongs and together with Corinne and Michelle we tried to co-ordinate a rhythm between us under the orchestral instructions of the elder woman who led the all-young boy band along the entire show.

As a grand finale we were presented with tiny handmade beaded baskets each containing two sweets as a token of appreciation just for being there. We then danced traditional dances together with the crew. Was quite fun and touching!

Later Lina announced the families with whom we were spending the evening and night. A mini-van picked us up and before taking us to our respective homes we were dropped by a makeshift volleyball pitch. The younger villagers were waiting for us and looked prepared to win the game probably another one out of a permanent tournament with foreign teams. We didn't do that bad!

Olivia and I were welcomed by Tiah Kawanit, an old short woman covered from head to toe. She lived in a long wooden house on stilts with a long veranda. Inside the house was quite large and spacious. Wooden partitions made out a lounge area, two small single bedrooms, a main bedroom and a huge kitchen. Despite the basic setup and furniture it was quite luxurious compared to previous homestays I had experienced. I wasn't expecting a bed (&) room all for myself, to say the least!

Tiah prepared a jug of sweet tea and some custard pastries. We tried to carry out some conversation but she barely knew any English and us any Malay. Her 2-year old grandson kept us a bit busy though. At one point an elderly looking man, who myst have been at least twice Tiah's length, entered the house. He must be the grandad we thought. He had a very dark complexion, skin hanging in delicate folds over his body. He gave us a big grin causing his eyes to disappear into his wrinkles. He muttered something probably a welcome, carefully balancing a fag on the edges of his mouth. Nor he did know any English. However, he was a kind gentleman and kept us entertained by showing us an old promotional DVD of MESCOT. (Yes, they had a TV and DVD!!!) The granddaughter and grandson played on the coach as their aunt, comfy in pyjamas nibbled on some biscuits from her pocket. It was quite a funny situation which became a bit uncomfortable when Tiah gave us dinner and the rest of the family shut themselves up in the main bedroom to avoid any temptations and wait until the early hours of the morning to feast over the single meal of and for the day.

At one point Tiah said "Mandis?" (which meant would you like to have a shower/bath?) The invite sounded like manna! We hadn't showered for days and we stuck of jungle. I accepted willingly. This was too good to be true. I had the best hose-piped cold shower ever. The bathroom was nothing other than another room with a huge tin tank. The squat loo was a solitary confinement a boardwalk away from the bathroom.

Bedtime releaved us all from starring and smiling at one another. I slept well hardly hearing any noises from the family's early breakfast or late dinner.

Next morning Tiah prepared us egg and fried noodle for breaky. She's such a kind-hearted woman. We said our goodbyes before which managed a couple of photos despite her shyness.

We set off back on the main road which continued its way to Sepilok Reserve where the orangutans where waiting to be fed at 10am.

The orangutans were sprawled on a platform raised high up on a tree but in good view of the spectators' platform. A lousy looking ranger sat in the middle with a bucket full of food from which the orange-coated creatures helped themselves.

I went for the second feeding later in the afternoon with Corinne, Denise and Chris. I walked ahead of the others and was the first to get to the viewing area. This time the attention wasn't on the feeding platform. A crowd of people, some seated on the floor, gathered around something. It was a pair of orangutans. One of them was sprawled on the floor while the other was playing with a huge leaf almost giving shelter to the other. I managed a couple of photos before they walked away on realising that all the attention was deviated towards a pair of hornbills on the a tree.

more about Sabah of Borneo .....don't miss out!

Nicky
X

Bali

2008-11-12T23:03:00.020Z

Salamat Datang! (welcome ...again!)

You can't help not miss the numerous temples and shrines and statues of brahma, visnu and shiva in every nook and corner. Nor can you avoid bumping into a ceremony when driving along the streets. Hinduism in Bali predominates over everything including tourism. People are just besotted by the gods.

Back in Java we took a 4-hour train from Probolinggo to Bangyuwangi - the most easternly point on the island and from there got the ferry to cross the canal to Bali. As we waited for the train we watched the goats prancing along on the rails, which we had to walk over ourselves within the next few minutes to board the 'luxury' train. To our luck we had first class seats again, which meant more leg-room and air-conditioning, which didn't work! When we got to the ferry, becak (bike rickshaws) men cycled our backpacks to the entrance as we walked beside them. The ferry boat was quite big but almost close to the point of collapsing. Its tired deco characterised by broken chairs, dirty floors and toilets and a windscreen-smashed lifeboat through which a weed plant was blooming with life.

We landed in Bali and yet another 2-hour drive took us to Angsoka Hotel at Lovina.

We were only metres away from the lovely beach. A quick shower and change of clothes quickly revitalised us. We met for dinner at the 'Jasmine Kitchen'; a tiny but pretty restaurant in one of the narrow streets beside our open-plan hotel. I tried the tuna fish in banana leaves and the black pudding. Not quite my fav but nice. Then Michael, a friend of Intrepid and the laundry man came about proudly displaying a range of colourful luck charms made out of carefully joint shell and coconut husks. He quickly won us girls over them. I ended up getting two. I just fell in love with their philosophical meaning which he described as "We're all sons and daughters of the same mother. There's are no distinction between black (symbolised by the brown coconut skin) and white (the sea shell)."

Next morning as the others were having a good lie in, Chiara and I shot out at 5.45am. We wanted to see the dolphins out at sea for sunrise. The skipper of the narrowest boat I've ever sat in (thankfully I'm not a big girl!) took us out of the beach for a good hour or so. During which I got lots of nice cold water showers!

Suddenly, we saw a about five dolphins sprout out of the water in an ensemble. Only to see them again after another ten minutes or so. They only allowed themselves a one-second show at a time. Pity! I was dreaming of actually swimming with them. Well, at least the sunrise over the hilly land behind and beside us was great. Back on shore, soaking wet we changed and had breaky before lazing between veranda and pool for the rest of the day. That evening we were invited over for dinner at another Intrepid friend. Ibu Wayan and her family lived a few metres inland from the posh and tourist set up beach front. We had to find our way in the dark amongst endless tall palm trees. Her house with huge covered veranda was actually on the water which we could only hear not see in the dark. A large table was spread out displaying plates of food, big bowls of rice, bottles of water, cutlery and plates. We gulfed in. Yummy! It was selling time after that as members of her family desperately tried to sell us batik clothing, sarongs, paintings etc...

Next day Pete, Marg, Mich, Chiara and myself set off to discover the water wonders of the island of Menjangan. It was about an hours drive then about 20 minutes by boat. We anchored by the rest at the shores of the deserted island and our guide took us snorkelling. We were in waters' heaven! I think it was even better than snorkelling in the Great Barrier Reef! The sea cliff offered an abundance of colourful fish and coral. Not to mention red and blue starfish. WOW! An hour and half just flew by so quickly but enough to burn our back and shoulders and well build an appetite. Unfortunately, there was no time for another snorkel after lunch as we were bound to head to Tirta Gangga that afternoon. On our way we came across a funeral which looked more like a Spanish fiesta! Our next hotel was up in the hills amongst the rice fields, in other words, far away from the beach. There wasn't anything special in the whereabouts except the Water Palace at the centre of the village.

Next morning after hiking through rice fields again we ended exploring every carved nook, statue and pool at the Palace's garden. The rice fields were themselves decorated with shrines and checkered apron covered statues of gods. Amongst them double-bent farmers with their ox and cows paid their earthly dues. We met a bunch of workers under a wooden shelter and took photos with them as we waited for the sheet of rain to stop.

After visiting the Palace, I decided to do a bit of exploring on my own. I ended up having a mango lassi in an al fresco restaurant. The owner was friendly on conversant in English. He told me he met many foreigners, of course and also took quite a few of them on top of the mountain. He then showed me an extract from the Rough Guide were he was mentioned for both his restaurant and mountain expeditions. He carried his cute looking two year-old son in his arms as his pretty young wife bustled around the empty restuarant. I sat there, read a bit of my book then decided to head back to meet the others for lunch.

Sally and her mum were about to cross the round to the warung at the side of the main road. I decided to join them as the rest of the group went to fetch a restaurant back at the village. It was a great lunch; panoramic view of the fields and home-cooking at its best. We had bakso which is a clear broth with balls of chicken meat, bamboo shoots, some other veggies, beans and crushed peanuts and chili. Followed by dessert, campur susu; slushed ice topped with condensed milk topped with mung beans, pink and green syrups, jello and everything sweet! Best slush I had ever tasted :)

We set off after lunch. Ubud was only two hours away. We lengthened our journey by stopping at a huge temple. We could only access the surrounding grounds as a ceremony was taking place inside. We still had to dress up in beaded necklaces and sarongs held tight by orange sashes around our waist. We were sweltering in the heat and admired the well-attired families walking in with their baskets full of goods offerings.

Ubud is one long stretch of a road decorated with dainty little shops amongst shrines, temples and Balinese-styled hotels. Artini Cottages had large spacious rooms around the garden and pool. We couldn't help a bit of window shopping and a swim in the pool that hot afternoon.
Later, I joined Michelle and Marg for dinner afterwhich we met the others to go watch a local performance. We entered the small courtyard of a temple, each side with walls decorated with stone carvings of gods. A huge candle stand was the only prop on stage. A chorus of men in nothing but a hibiscus flower in their hair and checkered sarongs around their waists, entered stage humming tunes. Then one by one the protagonists of the act made their important appearance. The short-version of the Ramayana was followed by a dance performed by two teenage girls in trance. Their eyes were shut and yet they danced in synch to the female choir. This act was followed by another astounding one. A man, again in trance, danced over burning coconut husks....ouch! He didn't seem to feel a thing. When he was sat on the floor at the end of the performance a priest dripped water into his cupped hands and prayed over him. The man woke up from his trance but took ages to get up from the floor, sweaty and breathless as he was. Finally, a member of the crew gave him a bottle of water and was soon up on his feet grinning at the audience from cheek to cheek. I still wonder how weird things to us seem to be pretty much business as usual for these people.

Next morning I couldn't resist the shopping temptation! I walked along the stretch of road and if that weren't enough I went to the open market where I ended up buying souvenirs for my dears back home. I then filled up a box with all the goodies and dashed to the friendly post office. That night we had our farewell dinner as it officially was the end of the trip across Java and Bali. Sally took us to a lovely posh restaurant for the occasion where we enjoyed exotic cocktails and desserts too.

After a few goodbyes the next morning I made my way towards the small bus station and got a bus to Kota, which is about an hour away from Ubud. I was kind of expecting what to find. And I only decided to go there cause, well I had a day to kill and was sick of shopping and secondly, was curious for the Aussies' sake.

The main road was full of top brand and designer outlets. Further down the beach, lined with hotels and Aussies everywhere you turned, the place looked just like another beach in Sydney, Bondi II, perhaps?!??! Then I came across one of the memorial monuments in honour of the bombed victims. The marble piece gave little condolence whatsoever. Luckily, the executions of the actual bombers happened about a month or so after I was there so other than that life was a shopping spree, a surf board, a sundeck and a tequila sunrise. I was glad to find a number of warungs along the beach so I had a delicious lunch of one of the best gado gado (veggies covered in peanut sauce) I had tasted in Indonesia. Tired of walking about and along the beach I headed back to Ubud for a lavish 'cream bath' (head and shoulder massage and hair treatment) of aloe vera. Then to my excitement I thought I would be in time to make it to the wayang (puppet) show at the Puppetry Museum's open air theatre. Well, I did make it on hourly time but was out of lunar time as there were no puppet shows in full moon!

So, I ended up watching yet another version of the Ramayana with only a handful of other tourists. Oh well, was a good day after all. A quick dinner of nasi goreng (fried noodles) in the tiny cafe across from our hotel saw me in bed quite early that night. It was goodbyes to Indonesia the next morning as I, together with Marg and Gaby headed for the airport. My next destination was Sabah in Borneo via Kuala Lampur. N X X X X

Travelling Java...Yogya, Seloliman & Mt. Bromo

2008-11-12T01:33:00.037Z

Selamat datang! (welcome!)

After Jakarta and Pangandaran we travelled on to Yagyakarta otherwise known as Yogya. We headed for the bus terminal from where we got a public (luckily air-conditioned) bus which drove us for about four hours were we then stopped at Cilacap for a quick lunch. It was back on the bus for the rest of the afternoon then on mini-buses which got us into the heart of Yogya. It was quite a scenic journey of valleys, terraced fields and acres of palm-oil plantations - an endless controversial discussion. Sadly most of Indonesia has been deforested whatever is left will be chopped down to to feed numerous families. Unfortunately, this not only contributes to the green house affect but throws wildlife and eco-systems in jeopardy. The classical example being orangutans which habitat is shrinking even further.

Back at Yogya town, our hotel was squished in one of its quaint narrow back streets, full of everything to make the tourist feel comfortable away from home; lavish coffee shops, art galleries, souvenir outlets, western cuisine restaurants and internet cafes. Tired as we were Sally took us to Via Via a few metres away from Delta Hotel for dinner. On our way back, Marg, Helen, Sally and I couldn't resist the temptation to enter the Civet Coffee shop. The extravagant kopi luwak, as known in Java, is made from coffee berries which have been chewed, digested and defecated (i.e. poohed) by the Asian civet (weasel looking-like animal). It's considered to be one of the top gourmet coffees and is therefore very expensive. I only tested my sense of smell, mmmm....lovely aroma, yes seriously! Marg and Pam indulged in a cup but to their disappointment it tasted disgusting. So long for the scent of it then.

Next morning our local guide Arnott and his crew cycled us in becaks (bicycle rickshaws) around Yogya starting at the palace of Mr. Spock look-a-like Sultan. Later he took us to a batik (printed cloth) art studio where us girls lost track of time! Next we paid a quick visit to a wayang (puppet) workshop where I finally got to buy my buffalo-skinned 'Romeo'. Was very happy indeed! (Ah, wish it were as easy to find your true Romeo in real life!!! :)
We stopped for a refreshing mango lassi at an art-deco photo-studio/restaurant just outside the bird market. We walked around the maze of narrow alleys full of cages. Just the sight of all those birds and reptiles made us scratch. The crystal clear pools at the Water Castle sparkled in our eyes as the sun bet hard upon us that early afternoon.

But our day was not over. Arnott took us to the batik factory or rather workshop. We were all fascinated by the whole process; intricate designs which are traced out with wax pens. After several consecutive washs to get rid of excess wax, dye was applied to the remaining blocks within the patterns. Fantastic works of art.

We lunched at a pendang, a local restaurant which you find everywhere like McDonalds in our world - only this was home-cooking :) A cheap but delicious meal of jackfruit curry, tempe, tofu and rice.

A quick power nap energised me for the big event of the evening. We had bought tickets for the Ramayana Ballet performance show. This took place in an open theatre, situated outside of the large Hindu temple in Prambanam.
We watched the temple transform from day to nightlight beauty as the sun descended. Needless saying, the sight took me back to Angkor Wat in Camobodia. After a buffet dinner with the best possible panoramic view of the Temple we went backstage to 'meet & greet' the actors who were busy dressing up in lavish costume and make up. Exciting! The performance was based on a complicated story plot with a multitude of characters dancing or rather twisting fingers and feet to the beating of the gamelan music. We enjoyed the performance and the story which unlike Romeo and Juliet had a happy ending :)

The Borobudur was the highlight of our next day's tour. It's enigmatic. I had never been in a Buddhist temple before other than monasteries and this was huge. It's said to be the biggest one in the world and dates back to the 8th century. It's built as a one large stupa which resembles a giant mandala. The story of Buddhist cosmology is carved in stone along a stretch of 5km clockwise around the temple. Each of the 7 levels spiral closer to Nirvana. At the top of the 3 terraces there are 72 large Buddha sit in latticed stupas. I just sat up and meditated for about half an hour.

That afternoon Marg, Gaby, Pam and myself hit the open market along Jalang Malioboro. Got a few good bargins one of them a batik dress which was fab :)
After lunch we had a posh ice-coffee and chocolate cake at 'Ministry of Coffee'(!) in one of the narrow street behind our hotel. Oh, such westernised luxury in the middle of Yogya, couldn't help it!

In the evening, we did dinner at one of the sit-on-the-floor restaurants again along Jl Malioboro. They had very traditional food, delicious BBQed chicken, sambal (chilli), tofu etc... The best part of eating at such open restaurants was the live entertainment provided by young musicians. Initially, we were thrilled by two guitarists playing re-editions of popular rock ballads. A solo artist performed after them but wasn't that good. I quickly gathered some tips from everybody around the table thanked him and anxiously beckoned the next group of musicians who were highly spirited and played Spanish and 60's classics with bass, guitar, drums and wonderful en chorus voices. Excellent!

Next day was another long travelling day this time to Mojokoto, most noted for Mt. Penanggungan, an active volcano. We were taken to PPLH (an acronym standing for a very complicated name to an environmental educational centre) situated in a village called Seloliman. Sally, Becky and I went for a walk uphill towards the mountain until it got dark but just enough for us to see a scorpion cross the road on our way back. Our bungalow had three comfy beds with mosquito netting and an open-air bathroom. Interesting concept, i.e. that of sitting on a western toilet and bathing in a shower out in a garden. This however we shared with the friendly wildlife too, of course. Our prince frog made sure we were safe for the night as he didn't budge from his guarding post just behind the toilet!!!

The Centre's staff team cooked delicious organic meals from produce they grew in the grounds around the bungalows. Rich fertile soil of course, being at the foot of the volcano.

Next morning we were taken for a good hike around the rice fields. At times there was hardly any space where to place a foot. Rice fields are only segmented by a narrow mould of mud. But was a splendid day and so was it for a group of kids bathing naked in a shallow stream. On our way we were invited for a strong cup of tar coffee by an old lady who spent the whole day crushing coffee beans with a huge pestle and mortar. She looked very old and couldn't speak a word in English but she did let us have a go at it. The shack she lived in consisted of one room full of pots & pans, a big table which served as her worktop and restaurant and some benches along the wall. A fire burnt in the corner making the whole place a little bit too warm for comfort.

After a good shower and yet another hearty meal we set off up into the mountains. Our next destination being Mt. Bromo, another but sleepy volcano.

Luckily, it was dark when we got to Yoshi's hotel or rather Adams' Family Hotel!
The place was grim and thick with brown wood furnishing. The rooms around the garden where of exquisite taste (not!). I shared like a joint twin-room with Michelle, Sally and Becky. It looked like something out of Flintstones. The others' could not stop describing the art & deco of their rooms. Marg and Pam in particular, whose room apparently was an old office with two beds. No one had an appetite that evening. We were all excited for next day venture which would start at 3am in the morning.

We met in the lobby. Luckily, it wasn't that cold. We still tucked ourselves in beanies, jackets, fleece and gloves. Jeeps took us further uphill until an hour into the drive we got to the viewing point. There were lots of people with whom we waited in darkness. Then dawn broke through revealing one of the most spectacular vistas ever. Three volcanoes stood tall infront of us. Out of the three only Mt Semaru was awake, throwing thick smoke into the clear thin air.
Having taken photos of the breath-taking scene we set off to climb to the rim of Mt Bromo.

Our guides took us to a barren ash-covered bit of land from where we started our walk. In no time our shoes (luckily there was no wind) were covered in ash and horse pooh! There were many locals trying to hire their horses to take tourists up to the hill. After that it was a 'stairway to heaven' to get to the summit or rather rim of the volcano. I peered down into the deep crater and saw huge puffs of smoke emitting from the heart of it. Oh! so it is kind of active! Well, apparently the locals hold ceremonies to quieten the fiery spirits less they decide to erupt. They throw their offerings such as chickens, flowers and whatever produce while praying to the gods for peace!

Back at Yoshi we packed, had breaky and took up in a mini-van down and round the Tengger Valley to the station. It was a gorgeous day, very inspiring and I just relished the fresh breeze in my face listening to oriental music on my ipod.

It was the beginning of yet another long journey and to a degree a new discovery - island of Bali here we come!

:)
X

A heron named 'Nicky'!

2008-11-12T01:09:00.011Z

Ab's special motorbike was like nothing I had ever seen. The originally pale blue vintage vespa was decorated with deer's horns and a huge pair were actually designed as a security lock. Two small monkey skulls adorned the front and back of this warrior-looking chariot. The chariot came complete with scale-covered and Mohican's animal hair-styled helmet. To my heart's content Ab took me for short ride in his chariot around Pangandaran.

He headed towards the Park's main entrance. As he U-turned to go back we saw the silhouette of a bird at the doorway of the park ranger's office. Ab stopped abruptly and muttered something. I asked what was it and he said "It's a heron and I want to take it home to eat the fish in my pond - I have too many fish!" I noticed it had a ribbon tied to it's leg and Ab quickly realising that too continued, "it must be someone's. Probably the ranger's. But if I take it no one else will steal it(!!!)" "He knows me and I know him so it will be ok. I will return it back after it has eaten my fish!" Then. "will you hold it for me so we take it back to my home?" "Ok, I will try!" I gibbered. I was puzzled. Was I about to become an accomplice in a crime myself?!

It only took him seconds to snatch the birds and a few minutes later I was holding it by its beak and legs, precariously balancing myself on the vintage chariot which was speeding away from the robbery site. Poor heron, I could feel it's heart throbing hard in it's warm feathery body. I kept praying it keep calm and not shit on me!!! At the same time hoping I wasn't hurting or breaking it's legs with my tight grip. The beak felt very strong at the other end. As I was mentally absorbed by the whole situation, Ab whizzed through the main street. Then suddenly he yelled "Hide the bird! The ranger lives here!"
Hide the bird!!! How?!?!?! I was already barely managing to hold it in between myself and Ab's back! We finally got to his house or (should I say zoo?!?) I carefully dismounted from the scooter and handed the victim over to Ab. He placed in in the large bamboo cage already home to 2 roosters, a huge flying fox and a pond full of fish. The poor heron just started blankly at the the walls of its new home.

Ab took me back to the hotel where I eagerly recounted my story. The next day Ab was happy, "Heron is eating fish from the pond." he reported. Oh Good! So it overcame the shock of being captivated in the dead of the night, then. "What will you call it?" I continued, feeling like I put my foot in it my the end of the question. "What's your name again?" he asked. "Nicky." I replied. "Then I'll call it Nicky in your honor!" And so it was :)

Java of Indonesia

2008-09-15T07:00:00.030+01:00

Hello!!!

So, from Land of Oz I decided to go to Indonesia. Why Indonesia? Well, first of all since I worked my arse off (in other words, heaps!) back in Sydney I could afford to travel to Asia again. I really wanted to go back anyways, since I had fallen in love with Asia after my travels to the East last year. Spoiled for choice I decided to tackle the East Indies, which are situated just above the Big Oz.
Going back to the question 'Why Indonesia?' well, it was a random choice to an extent. Actually, the only possible reason dates back 16 years ago! Well, yes, when I was still at school I had lots of pen-pals and one was from Indonesia; the most 'exotic' pal from my bunch, the rest were all European. Well, after some correspondence I discovered that I was actually writing to a boy not a girl! I couldn't have guessed in a million years given the (again) exotic name he had which obviously, gave no gender indication. And for some hack of a reason I had probably just decided that he was a she!! The worse thing is he had also sent me a photo of him with his friends - a bunch of brown skinned, dark-haired teenagers sitting on a wall. The photo was taken from quite a distance so that they all looked the same. My innocent 15-year old mistake probably cost me the correspondence since (probably) taking offense, upon my honest mistake declaration, he stopped writing :(

Anyways, intrigued by pictures about Indonesia's turquoise sea, bamboo houses and lots and lots of trees, I came across my excited research on receiving my first letter from Indonesia, and well, further and in honour of my pen-pal mishap I decided to visit the beautiful country. (Pity, I couldn't meet my long lost friend!)

My Garuda (Air) plane landed in the jungle. Yes, the most urbanised jungle I had ever come across. Jakarta is a mayhem city suffocating in smog, humid heat, traffic (lots and lots of motorbikes), sweaty over-dressed people, mosques, high buildings, etc... It was a leap into the wild wild east the minute I left the hotel for a wonder that late afternoon. I just wanted to find Seojurno's (the ex-President's) monument called the 'Monas' or as referred to by the locals 'his golden d*ck'! The receptionist assured me it was 'very close to the hotel, 2 minutes away' when it was not, if you had to ask me. I walked very cautiously and dangerously at the edge of main roads, risking my life everytime I attempted to cross one. I took the road all along a train station then further along the endless gates of the park with only one narrow opening at the very end!
All sweaty, shaken and dazed from smog and glaring sun behind the low grey clouds, I got to the top of the Monas for a very grey view of Jakarta! Anyways, as Sally (our leader) later said Jakarta is what it is but also has some hidden gems, as the restaurant we went to for our first group dinner -it was the best museum of art & interior deco I had visited from the whole lot I toured that day!

The following morning the tour group left smoggy Jakarta behind and travelled for an entire day by train, local bus and becaks (3-wheeler passenger paddling-bikes) finally arriving and the now low-profiled beach of Pangandaran. The latter was hit badly by a tsunami in 2005 and most of the houses right infront of the eastern beach are in neglect. The central street though towards town, has been redone and hotels etc. all look pretty new. The one we stayed in was a beach resort haven overlooking the west beach.

We met Ab, our local guide the next day(which also happened to be the first day of Ramadan) and walked us around the National Reserve Pack at the south of the peninsula. We were met by scores of monkeys which seemed to recognise the man with the haversack full of food. The minute Ab started bringing out bits of melon and papaya we were surrounded by more monkeys as well a deers. Further into the Park, we also met and fed porcupines in deep dark caves, saw lots of bats in those too! To our luck we saw huge flying foxes in action; literally flying from one tree to the other. We were so taken aback and in awe that none of us even attempted to take a pic! Ab also managed to bait a scorpion from beneath a tree with some raw chicken and brave Marg actually held it in her hand.

That evening Sally took us for dinner to a local warung (or house-restaurant). It looked quite meagre and the muslim-women let us pick our food from the shelved counter, just like a buffet. Indonesian food is always served at room temperature except for the rice which is generally kept warm in a sort of food thermos. We just randomly picked bit & bobs from trusting our luck it was not too spicy but edible and good to eat. It was a good thing the tiny place was dimly lit so I could barely make head nor tails of what was in my plate. It turned out to be a yummy dinner actually, except for the chicken which made Pete sick for 2 days. Good thing I didn't go for that!
Marg, Helen (Sally's mum), Sally and I remained chatting after dinner as the others left for an early night. Then as we were making our way back to the Hotel, I caught sight of 5 porcupine thorns neatly displayed in a picture frame above the door of a house. I quickly pointed it out to the others and Sally replied, "Oh yes, this is Ab's house." No wonder! She then said that he and his wife invited her and Helen for 'something sweet' so Marg and I decided to leave them but Sally insisted that we'd go in with her. We were a bit reluctant not having been invited but the minute Ab caught sight of us from within he gestured for us to come in. And so Marg and I entered Ab's house or should I say zoo?

How and where to start describing it?!?! A mosaic pathway leading to the entrance of the house was lined with fish ponds and huge bamboo cages on either side. The ponds were full of fish differently sized goldfish. Amongst other farm animals (pigs, hens etc..) a porcupine occupied a cage while another housed a multi-coloured rooster, a less fancy one and a flying fox. He offered us to enter the cage to take a closer look at them and Marg and I wearily did so.
At the end of the pathway was his vintage scooter and a table with some chairs. He invited us to have a seat and taste his wife's sweet soto (or soup). It was a green liquid with jelly pieces, bit of orange sweet potato and mung beans. Even though it sounds (and didn't look very appealing!) it tasted yummy.
After that I couldn't resist a photo-ride on his scooter, helmet and all! The originally pale blue vintage vespa was decorated with deer's horns and a huge pair were actually designed as a security lock. Two small monkey skulls adorned the front and back of this warrior-looking chariot. The chariot came complete with scale-covered and animal hair styled helmet. At one point he managed to surprise me with an elongated skull. Could never have guessed it was a dolphin's!

The next day Ab first took us to the local market in town. I just love markets! Full of everything under the sun; colourful food to wooden handcrafts to the weirdest things ever; a huge blue stingray under a table, packets of fried grasshoppers and shocking pink & florescent green jelly!
Later we went to the puppeteer's house. While he carves Ramayana puppets out of wood his wife paints and decorates them. Puppets are big in Indonesia particularly as they are used to recount endless versions of Javenese Ramayana - a kind of eastern version of Romeo & Juliet only with a very complex plot and a happy ending!
Finally, we got the boat and cruised along the Green Canyon. We stopped for a lovely swim in the green water and even scrambled over rocks to get further into the Canyon but it was worthwhile in the end.

That eve we went for dinner at the fish market. Well, only a few stalls were actually open selling fresh fish, one of them was Sally's ever favourite. Although still full from a late lunch we still couldn't resist the big still-kicking mud crabs and huge tiger prawns.
Yummy and whoosh so expensive but worth it! :)

N XX X X
PS: don't miss a good read; "A heron named Nicky!"

Northern Territory; Alice Springs to Darwin

2008-08-27T01:17:00.024+01:00

G'day all!!!

Here I am in Darwin or better known as the Top End of the Northern Territory. It's been another amazing journey travelling all the way from Central Australia to here. I must say though the highlight was the first part of the 9-day trip.

I landed in Alice Springs or rather in the middle of nothing but arid desert. (Such a far cry from green-lush and sea-blue Cairns). The airport was only 20 minutes drive away from town. Alice Springs, there's much more in the name than the actual town. There's nothing to do or see at Alice it's just a 'stepping stone' to Australia's famous geology highlights. I did have a wander though and the most interesting thing was getting some dinner from Woollies!! Having said that, I took the driver's advice and walked up a small hill and saw a wonderful sunset. It was pretty cold, about 17degrees with a strong wind blowing.

Early next morning, i.e. 6am, we were picked up by Jeff, our Adventure Tours Australia (ATA) guide or "Goldilocks Outback cowboy". After a quick check out of Haven's hostel and 'check-in- with at ATA's office we set off on the long road. Well, into 2 hours of our drive, by which time the sun rose and the day started to get warmer we stopped for breaky at the Camel Farm. yes, a Camel Farm in the desert, of course. I was eager to ride one and managed a 5min ride or rather gallop round the yard. Was fun though, a good jolt to wake me up!!

We drove for hours until we got sight of what we thought was Uluru but was Mt. Ica. On our way and to wake us up from drive-sleep, Jeff made us pick up firewood for our camp. Finally, we got sight of Uluru or Ayres Rock, as it's otherwise known. Jeff first took us to our campsite at the Ayres Rock Resort where we had a quick lunch after which we went to visit Kata Tjuta. It's stupendous as much as Ayres Rock. We could not stop starring and taking photos but then couldn't have appreciated it more than walking in-between a few of its 26 domes as we trekked the 'Valley of the Winds'. Photos taken we rushed back just in time for sunset over the Rock. it was amazing....sorry, can't find any other adjective. As the sun descended right opposite, it changed colours from deep red to pink to purple to black. A glass of champagne just tipped the scene!

That night Jeff organised a BBQ dinner, then it was off to sleep in our swags, bed rolls used by Outback Aussies to sleep outside. it was pretty cold but I was looking forward to it, actually sleeping under the stars. Not that we saw much that night as the moon was full and shone brighter than ever. Strangely, a ring of light clouds seems to encircle it. What was even more bizarre was the eclipse early in the morning. Amazing but true!

We woke up at about 5am next morning to make way to the Rock again and witness sunrise. It was freezing cold. The sun didn't appear before about 7.30am. In the meantime, we skipped about like skippies (kangaroos) to warm ourselves! Was worth the wait though.

Jeff convinced us (and me!) not to climb the Sacred-to-Aborigines Rock. Instead we all walked around it. A 2hour walk in the cold dusty wind, which however was an insight to every facade of the Rock. I couldn't stop taking photos at every turn and change of angle. Geology at its best.

Later Jeff took us on a guided walk along the last bit where he showed us 'the kitched', the 'wave cave' (or 4 wise men cave), told us Creation Stories and showed us various Rock Art by the Aborigines. Interesting stuff! He then took us to the Culture Centre which of course was full of Art on canvas and other exhibits. But the most interesting piece for me was an Aboriginal woman trying to explain a particular painting to a tourist. She touched every bit of it; the snake, every stones and symbol it portrayed, just like a child who had been told the story and was now reciting it to an examiner. The way these people live to tell through their art is impressive. Thank God they continue to paint nowadays, only that they use canvas and other material instead of rock as their basis.

We had lunch back at camp then drove to Kings Canyon where our next destination and campsite was. After another BBQed dinner and a wonderful coldish night under the stars we started the day with a hike across the wonderful Canyon. All along Jeff told us lots about the trees, the actual rock formations and pointed out the Lost City - eroded rock domes which perfectly aligned formed the shape of an non-existant Indiana-Jones style city. The Garden of Eden served as our shady break area while the flat Walls ended our walk in style.

Next was the long drive back to Alice Springs. It total we had done about 1000km in those 3 days. Jeff did stop at times and once just for the sake of making life a bit more interesting just starting to dig up tree roots to find widgety grubs (or huge white moth larva). They would have been good over a BBQ! Unfortunately, we didn't find any except for a tiny one. The photo shows a huge one being marinated in a brandy bottle!! Yummy! :)

Once we got back at Haven's, I and whoever was on the next 3-day tour, rushed around like chooks getting our laundry done as well as cleaning ourselves off from tonnes of red dust. We had a quick sleepy dinner at the pub and got to bed for a few hours as we were up and ready to dash off at 5.20am!

Our next guide was raffian hair-&-body styled Scotty. Another great guide though. We set off on the long road again .... it was about another 1500km to Darwin along the one and only Stuart Highway. Our first half-dazed stop before the sun even rose was Tropic of Capricorn; a white line on the ground which marks the most southerly latitude at which the sun can appear directly overhead at noon. It lies 23° 26′ 22″ south of the Equator.
Our next stop was the Ti Tree - a small town main inhabitants were Aborigines who painted and crafted works of art for sale at the main art centre. Further up the road, yep, just a stone's throw away - not- was Barrow Creek, where the Telegraph station was set up and telegraph line passed through all the way into Europe, one which countries is Malta!
Our lunch stop was at Wycliffe well, or rather Alien's Town. Apparently, there were lots of UFO and alien sightings in this area, according to the numerous newspaper cuttings decorating the walls of the only roadhouse in town. It was curious and interesting though to see and read about them not to mention all the 'alien junk' stuff hanging around!

In the afternoon, Scotty drove us up to Devil's Marbles - mounts of huge round red boulders.
(Go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Devils_Marbles_Conservation_Reserve - to read about the formation of these gigantic 'marbles ;) T It was as if the gods had thrown them from the sky right in the middle of nowhere and decided to play 'desert bowling' (instead of lawn bowling) whenever they felt like they wanted to. Scotty took us up one mount. With his and each other's help we climbed to the top. Not much of a view although you could see mounts within about 5km radius. When we went back down Scotty challenged us with climbing up another which was 'trickier'. It definitely was a good leg stretch after long-hours sitting in the bus! Was good laugh and fun despite the numerous ever-sticky pests - flies, flies & more flies!!

We drove on. It was becoming very warm and humid the further up north we went. Our last stop before hitting camp was Tennent Creek - a town (again in the middle of nowhere!!) which however, believe it or not with a population of around 3000 is the 5th largest in the Northern Territory. Practically this was another typical town we came across on the long desert highway. We walked about and bought some drinks for the night and took a picture of the main landmark in town!

Our campsite for that night was at the Banka Banka cattle station, well there were only horses in sight. We still got to sleep in a swag under the trees and starts that night. It was the last one though as it was getting pretty warm for a swag!

Next morning our break stop was at a roadhouse in Newcastle Waters where we adorned ourselves with the constrictor (snake) and made friends with a blue-tongue lizard! Our next big and lunch stop however, was the famous 1930s Daly Waters Pub, described as "a quintessential outback roadhouse and watering hole for travellers from far and wide." And did you know that the tiny town is also home to Australia's first international airport? Yep, believe it or not. It was used to service the first Qantas passengers on a refueling stop at Australia’s first international airfield which is still used today by the Flying Royal Doctors.
The Pub is quite something, its walls are decorated with everything from flip flops to T-shirts from all over the world, to car licence plates, to panties & bras, to IDs and photos, etc etc etc ...

But before going to the Pub, we met our local guide, Bailey, an 8-year old who spends his school holidays there with his parents. Was really cute as he walked us about the tiny town's 'backyard' and showed us a bird's nest, his pet pig, the town hall turned gym and locked us up in a cell!!!

On the road (or rather highway) once again, this time heading to Katherine Gorge. A short stop in town before we got to our campsite - the best ever yet. It stood on it's own (again in the middle of nowhere!) but this time the whole landscape was to ourselves. Couldn't stop gazing at the stars lying on a warm flat rock by the tiny fire that evening :)

The next morning, the Gorge was ours to explore either walking, cruising, canoeing or swimming. Anna, Juan, Ives and I decided to canoe and swim. It probably was the best choice even though it took a few spins before Anna and I started going upstream! But was a laugh in the end. There are about 6 gorges but we only managed to row up along one. We stopped for a lovely swim then started our way back, by which time we became canoeing experts!

Later that afternoon, Scotty took us to Mataranka for a luxury swim in the steamy thermal springs. Oh so lovely! :) We let ourselves get carried away by the gentle current while the palm trees and lush greenery at the side of the stream provide us with shade and caresses! the Edith Falls' waterhole was cold and that made us swim fast and straight into the Fall. So refreshing :) A tiny water snake played around with us as we sat on the rocks for a rest, cute! :)

It was destination Darwin for the remaining hours of our drive (I never actually got to count the number of hours...pointless, best let yourself get carried away with the 'nothingness!')
Darwin is a resort-type city catering for the tourist, of course. Dinner at the Vic pub made me want to escape into that nothingness which is all so very meaningful compared to the wasteful synthetic life in the bigger Cities. Especially, when you see Aboriginal people drunk and begging in the streets. You start wondering what makes sense; us or them or us over them or us trying to rope them into our world or them failing or not wanting to engage?????!?!?!?!??! ...oh well, food for thought.

{During my first days on this trip I read an extraordinary book about an American woman who spent 3 months crossing the desert with an Aboriginal tribe and what she went through but most importantly what she learnt...makes you think, hard!. If you're up for a trip to the Bog Oz, read it. It's called 'Mutant Message' by Morgan Moral}

Our ATA guide for Kakadu and Litchfield parks was Eleanor - a proper Outback Cowgirl, loud and all but such a lovely person. "No big bags just small ones, no space!" she yelled at 6 in the morning. She drove us in a huge 4x4 which was great, I so wish I could drive it. As the sun ascended we got to Mary River, were Eleanor left us at the mercy of the crocs (crocodiles). We saw quite a few lazing about on the sides of the river. 'For every one you see on the bank there are about 20 to 30 underneath you (i.e. in the water)!" exclaimed our river ranger. Mary river is quite impressive, not only because it practically has the largest concentration of crocs in Oz, but because life around is simply wnderful; the birds, trees and fish.

After lunch we visited the Bowali Visitor centre for some general info about Kakadu national park. then it was of to Ubirr or the Rock Art gallery. Eleanor explained the various symbolical paintings, amongst them the headless fish which is known as the cheeke fish - it lies on the bank as if dead then when you're about to catch it, it jumps to life and dives into the water. The way the Aborigines caught it was by chopping its head off, so there, job done!

After a short climb up some rocks we were welcomed by an amazing 360 degree view of what I described the 'real Austalia'. One one side you had the (Nardab) floodplains, then the outback's typical brown arid scene, then the reddish and shelf-looking rocks, then short green trees...wow..a photo could not capture all that, so I took a mini video which I hope to upload somehow.

We saw a magnificant sunset over the Yellow River...
then that night we slept at a permanent camp at Kakadu and ate skippy and buffalo sausages for dinner, yummy!! Our 4WD drive took us to Twin falls next morning. It was about 2hours of off-roading and a small river crossing, which was supposed to be croc-full! Twin Falls were quite a vista. Oh. we were so tempted to swin at the little beach at the case of the Falls but no one dared. After another jolting ride and almost scrambling over rocks, we got to the Jim Jim Falls only they were dry, being dry season (unlike all-year round Twin Waterfalls).

We didn't do much that afternoon except hit camp early. Before which though, we stopped to admire one of those gigantic 'cathedrals' (or termite mounts!) Point Stuart is a quiet campsite out of Kakadu, with lots of wallabies jumping around not to mention 'alarm-clock' birds! I enjoyed sleeping in net tents, was almost as if I slept outside just protected from insects and the animals themselves. Believe me after all these camp nights I got used to sleeping outdoors and now hate and can't sleep in the busy city (Darwin).

We spent our last day at Litchfield park. We first went to the Wangi falls for a lovely swim, followed by lunch by the motionless river then to Florence falls for one last dip. Oh, it was like a dream - you wake up still wanting for more!

And so, here I am in Darwin, at the top of the Top End (ie North Territory). it's the captial of the north Territory and has about 110,000 in population. It has a small harbour from which it conducts lots of trade with Asia due to its proximity to it via the East Timor Sea. Which infact makes my next desitnation only about a couple of hours flight away. (just to think after all these days just travelling in one HUGE country!!!)

Ciao all
wish me well in the land ringed with volcanoes...(seriously)!
hope to keep you all posted from Java, Indonesia ;)
Nicky
X X X X

Australia's East Coast

2008-08-10T03:53:00.005+01:00

G'day! G'day!

here I am in Cairns after 14 days on the road from Sydney. It has been amazing trip ranging from beaches, to islands, to rainforests, to cattle station, to sailing, partying and dancing on tables....etc etc ;)

I hope to recount the days in this blog some time soon. In the meantime, from Cairns I went further up north to Cape Tribulation and yesterday dived and snorkelled in the Great Barried Reef, amazing!! :) Today is my last day in Cairns and not doing much except catching up with some sleep, laundry, shopping and well, my blog and email!! Tomorrow, I fly out to Alice Springs and on Saturday start my second trip with Adventure Tours Australia; all the way from Ayres Rock to Darwin. In other words going from ocean and rainforests to desert and then more rainforest .... UUuuuu..so excited!!! :) Lots of new things and people.

We were a great bunch on this East Coast trip. I'll miss them all :( Not to mention our Aussie leader, Beaver ;)

Oh, and I'll be missing the daily Aussie mantras too!! Beaver made us listen to the typical Aussie folk songs the minute we jumped on 'Brian the Bus' first thing in the morning. He made sure we learnt them off by heart and ensured that we knew that we 'were welcome in Australia' and that we 'might accidently get killed!'...by blue ray, stinger, shark, etc etc...

Luckily, nothing of the sort got us, but we did see some playful whales and huge turtles on our sailing trip around the Whitsunday Islands. Not to mention, lizards, crocs, emu, cassawarries, dingoes, emu on the Croc farm just off Cairns and of course, kangaroos, both alive and roadkill(ed) along the long Aussie highways! And also got to mingle with goats, horses, cows, kakadus, peacocks on the cattle station in the middle of Queensland.

HAPPY DAYS everyone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Miss you all & love you all
Nicky
X X X X

Sydney

2008-07-26T02:57:00.004+01:00

G'day!

Here I am about to leave this wonderful City after 6 months from landing here. It was pretty amazing especially when I had no planned agenda for Australia. I arrived on a rainy summer day mid-January with just my backpack and a Working Holiday visa. Thankfully, I have relatives, mum's cousin, Eddie and his family who picked me up from the airport and took care of me for the first few weeks. During those weeks I was both anxious to go around at the same time find a job. Job-hunting for a similar role as I had in UK (that of an Online Manager or similar) was proving itself difficult. However, I wasn't sure whether I wanted such a role again. I was tempted to deviate from my career path and do something different and with a little more fun, perhaps.
I ended up taking a cafe barista course and one day on walking down King Street in Newtown found Pastizzi cafe. A coffee shop which sold the traditional Maltese pastizzi (probably best described as hot ricotta pies). I couldn't believe my eyes - there was a whole variety of them and not just riccotta and mashed peas. Lenny, one of the partners, was thrilled to know I was Maltese and made me taste quite a few of them, they were yummy! I plucked up courage and asked him whether he would need any help in the coffee shop and guess what?! he told me was actually looking for someone at the time. It was as later described, a match made in heaven; Maltese pastizzi (and eventually coffee) being served by a Maltese girl :)
I really did enjoy working there and ended up staying for about two months. I'm glad to have made many new friends (not the mention dating requests!!!) especially with the people who run pastizzi; Lenny, Debbie, Freddie and his partner Andrew, Nonna - beloved Sicilian cook, Miraj, the Nepalese team who made the Pastizzi, the rest of the waiting staff and not to mention my regular customers. They were a mix of Aussies and early 1980's Maltese immigrants and their families. Will never forget the fenkata nights, which happened every last Sunday of every month. On those nights we would serve a traditional rabbit dish which went down so well with everyone.

I had left Pastizzi Cafe as I was offered a job with Vodafone Australia. It had all happened so quickly and suddenly, it was like winning a lottery. A dear friend of mine, Merrenna recommended me and a week later I was asked for an interview, well I wouldn't even call it so. It was more of a chat over a coffee with Harry. He called a couple of hours later to tell me I was in and within a week started an about 3 to 4 month contract with the Online Team. It was challenging initially especially having not worked in such an environment for about 6 months. But within a week I felt I was back at Vodafone and with a bang! Having spent 9 years with the company, between Malta, UK and a bit of Portugal, Vodafone Australia quickly grew on me. I must say it was one of the best Vodafone experiences ever. I managed quite a few projects thanks to some amazing colleagues, whom I will dearly miss. The photo is a view of the City from Level 18 at Vodafone Tower, that is where I worked :)

In the meantime, given such an opportunity I started planning for, as people call it a long holiday. I wanted to see the Greater Oz and not just Sydney and I had to do it quick primarily cause my Visa would run out in 6 months and secondly, I anyways have to head back to Malta by March 2009 for my sister's wedding. So, I kicked off my traveling project again.

During my weeks counting down to this day, I continued to discover wonderful Sydney with Roz and John - a wonderful couple whom I had got to know back in the UK and thanks to their hospitality, lived with them in Haberfield for about 5 months. We toured the beaches around the City in summer, took the ferry from one to the other, then as the season turned, John and I hit the bushes. We relished the Sunday walks which were a mix of bush and coastal ones, until the day I managed to sprain both ankles at once!

I must say it was quite a downfall for me which narrowly blew all my travelling plans. Luckily, I had 6 weeks remaining and thanks to the magical hands of physio, Charlie, frozen mashed peas, endless rolls of sticky tape, a combination of rest and working out at the gym to strengthen them and my other leg muscles, and (hardest of all) staying away from walking everywhere, anywhere particularly in the bush, I somehow find myself all packed up and ready to leave tomorrow. I'm now just hoping my ankles will continue to toughen up over the next couple of weeks before my Alice Springs, Ayers Rock tour starts.

All in all, my stay in Sydney was great, more than I ever wished and hoped for. I was here for quite a few big events too, namely World Youth Day, seeing QE and QV cruises at Sydney harbour, the Mardi Gras, Chinese New Year celebrations and dragon boat racing. On top of everything I also got to meet a dear old school friend of mine, Natalie. It was a great reunion and so sweet of her to knock on my parents' door just last week on her holiday in Malta.

Now, I look forward to coming across the other big Aussie cities such as Brisbane, Perth and Melbourne over the next months. But can't wait to hit the Outback, what Aussie's describe as the true Australia. Well then, Australia (beyond Sydney) here I come! :0)

I hope to keep this blogsite up to date along my travels,
wish me luck
love to all
Nicky
X X X

A mini version of the Annapurna Circuit

2008-06-15T04:36:00.012+01:00

Namaste!

We swiveled our way into the mountains. I was absorbed by the beautiful surroundings with the river still leading its way along our side. We got to Pokhara at about 4pm and again did not know whether we were being picked up or not. If anything an army of small white cabs were waiting for our pick. Sharon called Raj and got the name of the hotel. We were staying at the Pokhara View Hotel, and what a view! The Himalayas were just peering over us.

We checked into an internet cafe and later met our trekking guide, Amrit and sherpa, Ganesh. That evening we were specially treated out for drinks and dinner by two MPs of Nepal. Effectively, Sharon had made friends with them (or should I say them with her?!) through Raj. They practically escorted us for the night almost failing to take us back to our hotels!!! Small adventure there, which I'd rather not recall! ;)

Before we set off the next day, I managed to confirm my booking for my next trip to Indochina. I was twice as thrilled, yipppeee!!! We were driven to Nayapul, our starting point, from then we started walking, upwards and onwards, for the next 5 days.

There was lots going on at the starting point; trekkers start or end their length version of the Annapurna circuit (the full version taking 22 days to complete).
It was a hustle and bustle, one road long town; full of trekkers and their sherpas getting ready, mules carrying heavy loads, rows of shops selling everything the last-minute trekker might need. We walked across the suspended bridge to the park ticket office and paid our dues to enter the Annapurna National Park.

"Nepali flat, sometimes up sometimes down". And so it was. But the views were stunning, trees, rivers, waterfalls, and the Himalayas which accompanied us along the way. It felt good to break into a sweat again and even better to quench our thirst at the quaint teahouses along the way. I could have set for hours on those terraces over-looking valleys and fields. After some 3hours of trekking we got to our lodge for the night, the Laximaster in Tikhedhunga. Our 2 single-bed bedroom with two walls of glass panes overlooked the green hills we would climb up the next day. The terrace overlooked the tiny cobbled street beyond which was a sheer drop into the valley below. We had pasta for lunch, then chatted with two Finnish girls in the lovely sun until it was time to hit the shower before the hot water ran out. It was dark before 5pm and the cold night grew on us quickly. We tucked up into warm clothes and joined other trekkers in the dinning room. We munched our dinners on wooden benches and made friends over a cup of tea and biscuits. The evening turned into merriment with the young lodge owners dancing with fellow male trekkers. We ended up coming across most of them over the next few days either beating them on the trek or for hot showers at our teahouse stops :)

Next day we set off at 8am. The day ahead of us was meant to be the most strenuous, involving about 5hours of continuous uphill. We just went up endless flights of stairs for the first 2 hours which also served as roads along tiny villages. The locals as well as the mules, carried all sorts of weights on their backs and heads. We were amazed at their ordure especially when we were punting under the weight of our small backpacks! We stopped for a tea break at the top of hills overlooking the terraced fields, valley and the now tiny lodge we stayed in the previous day. We continued until we came to Ulleri which is at 2120m. We stopped for lunch in the pretty garden. After lunch it was an easy walk through lush forest.
Towards early evening we arrived at Ghorepani which is around 2853m high. Police officers were quick to welcome us into the blue-roof topped village. They were after every entrant's Park passes.
Some more stairways away was our lodge, Kamala for the night. As the sun began to hide behind the mountains (and it was still 3 in the afternoon) open market sellers started to pack up. The dining area downstairs was a plain barely furnished room, except benches a long table and some more wooden benches around a large tin stove which hardly emitted any heat. Sharon and I quickly took the opportunity of beating the other trekkers and made a dash for a hot shower. Our room was on the 4th floor, which apparently was luxury with one western toilet at the end of the corridor and the best view ever of the Fishtail mountain.

We huddled up nice and tight around the stove writing our journals and engaging in small talk with our guide and sherpa. Before we knew it the lodge was filling up. At about 5, when the sun started to set, I got my camera and went out into the cold chill air to take some photos. Before we knew it it was dark and to my and Thunda's amazement we witnessed something extraordinary. An illuminant white ball was rising from behind the lodges and mountains in the distance. It was the moon. Never had I seen it so blindingly bright.

Back at the lodge we had our dinner by candlelight, which added to the cosy and warm atmosphere. At one point a voice struck me. We were seated on one of the long tables. Sharon was on my right while Amrit and Ganesh were seated infront of us. The voice attracted my attention to a trekking couple seated at the end of the table, with their guide and sherpa infront of them. I heard the man talk but couldn't make out the words. I stood still, straining my ears. Sharon gave me the odd looks trying to figure out what I was doing. 'Would you mind if we exchange seats?' I asked her. 'ok! you alright?!' 'Yes Yes.... I think....' and at that point I heard what I was hoping to hear; a word in my language, Maltese! I jumped out of my seat turned towards the couple and blurted, 'Intkom Maltin?!' (You're Maltese?!). And so they were!. I still can't believe I met Mariella and Andrew to this day. OMG!!!! It was amazing to meet a Maltese couple in a teahouse right in the middle of the Annapurna Circuit. And how even more amazing was it that they were about to complete the 17-day trek. WOW, what a feat! I had never felt so proud of being Maltese :) We chatted for ages, relating our adventures in turn. They told me about the toughest point being the Throng-la Pass at 5416m trekking through the cold and snow. I was in awe.

We were then sent to bed quite early by our guides that night as we had to climb up to Poon Hill (our highest trekking point at 3210m) for sunrise the next morning. According to 'Gurkha Encounters' (our friend Raj's tourist agency) the view has had 'a life-changing effect on people.'

The wafer-thin walls of our room and the excitement didn't make it easy for us to sleep and at 5am we jumped out of bed despite the cold. We dressed quickly in thick layers of clothes and shot outside in the stark and dark streets. We set off, step-by-step. Before we knew it our breath cut short; altitude was kicking in. Head-torches bobbed up and down further up the path. At one point the moon revealed a clearing - our first viewpoint. The horizon started to tinge with pink and red. We punted and puffed the rest of the way until we finally got to a gate beyond which was the white viewing tower. The night was turning into day. A cup of coffee or chocolate from the locals' wooden stall was definitely a warm welcome. Everyone was preparing cameras and trying to get the best spot. I thought the whole 360 view was just stunning. The moon was still standing strong behind us as we faced the east in anticipation. Then after a long wait the sun made it's appearance from behind the Range. There it was shining bright as ever restoring glory to the Himalayas. And I was there to witness it, simply amazing!
Back at the lodge they fed us breakfast. We said our goodbyes and set off for a full day's trekking, this time heading downwards.

Thunde and Mandeep caught up with us at the teahouse in Duerali. Was lovely sitting and sipping tea in the sun. As we continued our descent the rocky steps became even more slippery and muddy. Then at one point I just slipped on my bum. Luckily, I suffered no injuries, except for a huge bruise on my bum! oh, and a brown matching patch on my trousers!! Despite the small accident we still managed to surpass the others. We stopped at another teahouse. The views were something out of the ordinary. Sharon and I couldn't get enough of them. After curving our way around the side of a hill we got to a solitary restaurant. Amrit wanted us to have lunch here, reason obviously being the panoramic view. I just wanted to sleep on that wooden bench!

But the afternoon didn't turn into a siesta. We descended steeply into a valley only to climb it up again on the other end. It was steep but Sharon and I were doing fine. I was practically enjoying it. Before we knew it we got to our night lodge, the Himalayan Guesthouse in Tadapani. We had tea with the Finnish girls and later again with Thunda and Mandeep who were running behind especially when they had another 2/3 hours trekking to get to another lodge for that night.
After goodbyes, Sharon and I hit the showers, which were the best so far. We took a mini tour around the village; women selling handmade jewelery and crafts while children played around. It was getting cold again so I decided to write my journal in the warmth of the dining room, which was very cozy especially with a blanket tablecloth which covered our legs and buckets of charcoal at our feet, underneath the table. (just to think how cold it was outside!) We drank tea and munched on popcorn and later I learnt how to play 'arsehole' :)

At about 8pm Sharon and I headed off to our beds. The view from the 2nd floor long balcony was another stunner. I must say Raj ensured we got the best rooms well, or at least rooms with best views, for each of our stays.

Next morning we breakfasted outside on the stone terrace overlooking the forest we were about to descend into. We skipped like little elves through the rhododendron forest. So, pretty pity it wasn't flowering season. After 2hours we came across the first teahouse out of the forest and sunk in tea and sun. Within less than an hour later we arrived at Ghundrig, known as the stone village. The cobbled streets led us to the and our last Annapurna View Hotel. Now that felt quite an upgrade and was infact the best 'hotel' we had stayed in over the past 5 days. I spent hours writing my journal in the lovely sunny garden as Sharon slept soundly in her bed facing THE VIEW one last time from our bedroom window. We had dinner that evening in the noisy dinning area and played 'arsehole' till we were dozing off on the table.

The next day was our final day. We only had about 4hours of trekking again downwards and on until we got to our starting point in Nayapul to get our bus back to Pokhara. It was lovely and warm and sunny. We were so lucky with the weather throughout our trekking. So were twice as pleased with our accomplishment. When the bus finally arrived we decided to take 'a seat upstairs' i.e. the roof. It was a good ride, we got to enjoy the remainder of the Annapurna views and chatted up three good-looking guys :)

next..back to Pokhara and a bit of paragliding :)

ta
nicky
X

Nicky's & Sharon's (BIG) Tour !!!

2008-06-15T02:37:00.007+01:00

Namaste!

Our bus journey wasn't a long one. We stopped for an early lunch on our way at a 'highway' restaurant. Back on the bus we stopped one hour or so into the journey where we then had to proceed over the Trusili river, i.e. rafting. There were only a couple of houses on the river's side of the road. We changed into something lighter and 'waterproof' i.e. thongs and rolled up trousers, grabbed an oar each, wore a hard-plastic helmet and a life-jacket. With our dinghy and all we crossed some fields to get to the riverside.

We stuffed our stuff and cameras into a plastic clamp-tied keg and we were off. The river was quite calm initially, during which time our raft-leader explained the oaring instructions and commands. His assistant was a young lad, half the size of the oar in length and width!

Then we met the rapids, one was called 'surprise' the other 'electricity' etc etc They were great but not that drastic to catapult us into the air, bar Ben, poor guy! With 5 men on board and us 2 girls we coped pretty well. It was good fun. The rapids were a tad scary. Us girls shrieked and yelled at every rise and fall as we tried to obey our leader's rowing orders 'faster!' 'faster!'.
In between the rapids, the water turned so still that it allowed us to absorb the peaceful views of the valley. It was lovely looking at Nepal from the river, it gave it a different perspective from looking at it from top of the hills; untouched grey sand lay at each side of the river, the spray rising from the water was visible in the bright sunshine which reached us through lush green trees. A suspended bridge came into view and a few local lads waved at us. Cute little houses, like proper mountain chalet's decorated the sides of the valley.

After about 2hours of rafting we anchored in a little bay. The crew laid out a lovely picnic as we sprawled over the boulders to dry ourselves. We wolved the freshly prepared salad, sandwiches and fruit. After lunch Sharon and I decided to take the lead and took the front positions of the dinghy. And that was even more fun.

We met some calm waters again and the guide suggested a swim. Mmmm, quite tempting. Sharon and I looked at each other as if in agreement and before we knew it we were thrown over by the guide and his tiny assistant. OMG! the water was so cold, but I got used to it and strolled for a while. Sharon just loved it and let herself flow by the gentle current. Back on board though she wanted to see the guide in the water. After a good hassle and tug she finally managed to hurl him and herself into the water. It was a good laugh.

The last 3 consecutive rapids brought us to our destination. Dripping wet as we were we walked up to the a house at the side of the main road again. We changed into something dry on the roof of this house! There was nowhere else more discreet! Back downstairs, we chatted with a Dutch guy over over hot cup of tea, waiting for the next bus to take us to Chitwan.

The interior of the bus was draped in carpet material with huge speakers above our heads playing rave music. It took two and half hours to get to our destination and by that time it was dark. As the bus drove through towns, villages and roads we had no idea of anywhere nor where we had to get off or whether someone would pick us up. Sharon dozed off as I kept ears and eyes on the alert. Then finally, the bus came to a halt and everyone got off, so I assumed we were there. Infact, two men with 4-WDs were waiting for us and who had been waiting for hours as we happened to be very late. Despite our lack of punctuality, The Maruri Sanctuary Lodge manager, a handsome Burmese guy, greeted us with a huge smile which shone through his eyes. We drove through a tiny hut village, which took me back to Africa. The bumpy road led us to the Sanctuary Lodge; a wide cultivated open space made up of lovely individual bungalows. He welcomed us in the reception room or rather glasshouse where he briefed us about the Sanctuary itself and our agenda for the next 2 days. He then asked us whether we could have dinner in 10minutes so we could make it to the Stick Dance show in the village. Sharon and I dumped our stuff and wet clothes in our separate bungalows and sat down for dinner in the bare empty restaurant adjacent to the reception area. Our cook and waiter was a lovely and very caring Indian guy who prepared a three course meal for us, lovely, only we had to gulp it down as our driver was waiting for us.

The Stick Dance show was intriguing. I was amazed and the young boys' dexterity in beating their sticks to fast-paced rhythms. By the end of the show, I was up on stage hopping up and down to tribal beats. Awesome!!! :)

Although tired, Sharon and I chatted till late; we were energised with the day's activity and the rest had only to be discovered.

Next morning a knock at 6.30am woke us up for an early breakfast. We were then driven to the crocodile river where we got a long flat canoe which daintily glided over the water; cutting through the ripples and mist. It was a calm awakening to a wonderful day. We managed to spot a lousy long-spouted croc sunbathing at the side of the river. Our canoe took us to one of the jungle-looking islands where we were greeted by two park rangers who led us on a walking safari. We walked for an hour or so but only managed to come across a wild boar. I wasn't sure what we could have come across anyways, I didn't dare ask! We perched ourselves from the balcony of one of the long-stilted wooden tourist lodges in the middle of the jungle. The view was gorgeous.

Next we visited the elephant breeding centre, which well, looked like an elephant zoo. The elder ones were chained to wooden poles for display, poor things. Luckily, the young ones were left to roam freely about. One of them greeting us at the ticket office. Although still a baby it was quite huge and it was the first time I had actually touched one. Visitors were busy taking photos and feeding him cookies when suddenly the master came our yelling at the elephant like dad to a naughty son. Apparently, the young elephant was a known mischievous one which climbed over the a broken part of the fence to be fed cookies by visitors.

Our rangers then took us for a surprise; bathing with the elephants! The tiny beach was crowded with tourists watching elephants being bathed by their masters. Then there were those who dared jumped in for a trunk shower and hump-back plunge. Sharon and I were tempted. We stripped to what we could not having our swimsuits on and cautiously threaded the warm water (luckily elephants' poo was going downstream with the current!!!) The master hurled us up on the back on their elephant. Never have I had thought about the skin of an elephant till that day. It was thick, course, hairy and gosh, it smelt strongly (....mmm can't really think like what?!?) It was a joy-ride! the minute we managed to climb the hump, the master would yell out something and the elephant would simply turn on its side and duck into the water with its passengers and all. Up again and down again. Shear fun. But nothing bet the reverse-trunk shower while standing on the back of the elephant, oh yes!!! :)

Wet, stinking but smiling we took off for a good shower only to see sunset from the back of an elephant as we rode one across the small jungle, meeting a pair of rhinos on the way. We slowly made our way swaying from one side to the other. Our seats overlooked the rear side of the 'vehicle', so we could observe swishing tail accompanying the pedantic rhythm. It was definitely a different point of view especially when your vision is suddenly blinded by a branch of leaves! Towards the end of the ride, our master let us take the lead for a while. It was the best buttocks massage ever !!!

Next day was a very early morning start as we were woken up before break of dawn and sent out for early bird watching. But we only managed to come across and hear a few birds making us feel jealous of our beds. Until, a huge deer almost the size of a horse, made us jump. All I saw was a dark figure against the faint rays of the sun streaming through the trees. It was a majestic vision. On our way back we walked through the hut village. Picturesque in every sense; colourful hand-printed walls, old water pumps, open-air baby cradles, red chilli chopping on the doorstep and I was back in Africa! Our lovely and caring Indian cook could not have us leave on empty stomachs so we hugely breakfasted and set off again on another long bus journey, cut short barely outside Chitwan due to a mechanical fault.

Next....Himalayas ...here I come again!

ta
Nicky
X

Everything happens for a reason!

2008-06-14T10:56:00.006+01:00

..and so it does!

hi again, I couldn't do anything that Saturday except to wait for Sunday to come by and try to sort out my fight to Bangkok. So, f888 it, I went for our group's farewell dinner and my tears soon dried up and turned into laughter. It was great seeing Sharon so excited, I should say ecstatic with her thangka gift.

Some interesting revelations happened that night but probably the most incredulous one was from Mystique Flip's fortune-telling!!! She declared that everything will turn out right and that I will be happy the next day! So it be, I thought.
Next, we hit Tom & Jerry's pub where we let our spirits rise again!

Next morning, the remaining six met for a peevish breakfast in the garden of the Harati Hotel. We exchanged our goodbyes, which made me feel even worse. I then set off and finally found the ThaiAirways offices, given directions by the Reservation Manager of the KGH (Kathmandu Guesthouse). It turned out I had never actually purchased the ticket and had only made a reservation online. Getting a bit frustrated (to say the least) I crossed the road to a travel agent to try to book and buy a flight to Bangkok. Luckily, they found a seat for the first lag of the journey, which was to be Kathmandu to Calcutta but they asked me to allow a few hours before they could try to confirm the next lag, from Calcutta to Bangkok which if successful would only turn out to be an expensive business class ticket.

I met some of the others for lunch at the KGH. I was kind of nervous and anxious. Alana reassured me that I'd find a flight and worst come to the worst I get to stay here in Nepal for a while. In the meantime, surely Intrepid could postpone the trip so I could join another group at a further date. OMG!!!! and so it struck me, just there and then like a bolt out of that blue sky on top of us. That was it. I decided. And finally, I was able to articulate that underlying and inexplainable feeling. Or was I perhaps trying to deny it all the time? I fell in love, yes I had fallen in love with Kathmandu and was dying to discover the rest of Nepal. This was it - this was my chance to do, to just go for it.
I barely ate my lunch, I just dashed back to Jaya, the travel agent. On my way, stopped to call Intrepid to ask them to postpone my booked trip. I couldn't get hold of them. But by that time my mind was pretty much made up. I was staying. The friendly staff at Jaya, greeted me with smiles; they had found a business class flight from Calcutta to Bangkok. Within the next few minutes their smiles turned into frowns! I had decided not to take it after all their effort but at least I had the decency to apologise and make another booking to fly out to Bangkok (and via Calcutta - since there weren't any direct flights available for months) within the next 10days.

I had taken a shot in the dark; what will I be doing in Nepal for the next 10 days? what if Intrepid won't be able to postpone my trip? will I loose my money? then if so, what will I be doing in Bangkok? so many questions, yes, but I had never felt happier. I walked along the streets of the Thamel with a radiant smile.
That evening I ended up celebrating high class with Michelle, Kevin, Flip and Alana at the posh Hyatt hotel.

Next day I had a bit of a let down! Intrepid would not postpone, so I basically lost the trip and worst still the money. I was hit but not beaten. I discovered that they still had last minute places available on a trips starting beginning of December and I was still determined to make it to the South East. So, I asked them to book me afresh for the 5th December one.

Having settled that matter I was now keen to sort out my days in Nepal. My mind was swimming with thoughts and ideas. I wanted to do some trekking in the north, adventure stuff along the way, somewhere, take a safari at the natural reserve in the south, etc etc..
I jotted down everything on a piece of paper, searched the internet for a while then started to ask about at the local tourist agencies. In the meantime, I had to see to my accommodation. I had exhausted the nights at our final destination hotel the Harati and it was only thanks to Kevin that I managed to fit in an extra night that night, as he decided to treat himself at the Hyatt.
I went to the KGH and sorted out a room with a kind of provisional booking as I had no idea whether I'd be staying there for just one night or for the rest of my days in Nepal, which I hoped not.

The Reservation Manager (I'm crap with names!!) on enquiring about my stay in Nepal asked me whether I would want to meet his friend who ran a travel agency the Gurkha Encounters. Well, I thought that won't hurt and if anything would help me fine-tune my thoughts.

I was back at KGH at 11.30am. One of the agent's representatives met me at reception then walked me a few metres down the road to their offices. The minute I walked in to my surprise, I recognised a familiar face seated behind one of the desks - it was Sharon!! OMG! I had just text her a few minutes earlier to let her know about my situation with Intrepid failing to postpone the booking and my new resolution as to wanting to 'get lost' in Nepal over the next days to make up for the 'loss'.

We hugged one another. I had never thought I'd see her again being on the brink of setting off for some holiday of her own in Nepal. It turned out that she didn't have anything planned and was still wondering and pondering about what to do, where to go.
Raj came along, surprised to see that we knew one another. He then asked me to take a seat while Sharon left to do some errands. He's a well experienced organiser and all he needed was my roughly sketched itinerary to turn into a fantastic custom-built tour. I was so happy - a dream come true!!!
I think he was pretty chaffed by it too and asked me whether we should try to buy Sharon into it. So, the minute she back we sat her down and gave her a good description of the tour. She just nodded and finally said 'I like it. I'm on!'
WOW ! WOW ! triple WOW! not only did I have a great trip to look forward to but I was about to share it with a great friend :) It was awesome, timewise brilliant. It would turn out that I would be spending my birthday back into Kathmandu, then fly out to Bangkok two days later.

Raj took us out for lunch to celebrate. The day grew on us and before I knew it I was back at the Harati, had a quick dinner, packed and tried to sleep but my endorphins were on a high :)

It was an early start the following day. 6.30am found me at the reception waiting for one of Raj's employees to pick me and Sharon up and take us to the bus junction. At about 6.45 a guy turned up with his little motorbike. I was wondering how we were all about to fit on top of this 2-wheeler, backpacks and all?!?! We zigzagged through the sleepy streets and at one point saw Sharon seated on a step in front of the hotel she was staying. I yelled into the driver's ear to stop. He looked surprised. It didn't even seem to occur to him that he was supposed to pick up another customer that morning. I waved to Sharon and signalled her we'll be back. The guy dropped me off at the piazza and asked me to wait until he picked up Sharon. Together again, we got organised on the bus full of Western tourists. We waved goodbye to the our scooter driver and said hello to a new big adventure :)

next...Nicky's & Sharon's Tour !
Nicky
X

Dhulikel & Kathmandu

2008-06-09T08:10:00.022+01:00

Namaste!

The Himalayas accompanied us all the way into Dhulikel. It was a smooth but winding upwards road. The mountainous scenary stayed with us until the sun hid behind one of them.

We dumped our stuff in our rooms quite out of breath after climbing up flights of stairs to get to the actual resort, which was spread across a number of terraces. I hung around for a while after a lovely dinner in the resort's restaurant with Simon, Sharon and Michelle, letting the wine caress our brains! The ambience was typical Nepalese with traditional paintings, tapestries and furniture - so unlike the westernised Last Resort. We were curious to see the view the next morning. Each of our rooms had a wide balcony facing the Range. And what a view! I stumbled out of bed at the break of dawn to get the best sunrise photos. I was mesmerised.

We continued to consume the breathtaking Himalayan Range over breakfast which we had in the sun on the roof of the restaurant! Awesome! Pure food for the soul, as Sharon remarked. She had planned a visit around the historical town of Panauti for the day. We walked down the hill to the main road, got a local bus and to make sure we continued to get the best of all views, we sat on its roof!!! What a joy ride! Desperately holding on to the iron bars (roof rack) at every turn or hump in the road, laughing our heads off with the wind and dust brushing against our faces. We jolted amongst fields, cows, people on foot, bikes and carts, others yelling from their market stalls at the side of the dusty and dirty roads.

We stopped at the busy and loud bus junction. Buses just crammed into one spot of the square so we actually had to jump over to the top of another bus to get off, while trying to avoid getting caught in the electricity wires dangling like ivy from the lamposts and adjacent buildings!!!

We met our local guide and started to walk away from the noisy square and into the narrow streets. The facades of the buildings had a turkish oriental look to them.
We walked until we came to an opening in the countryside and 'entered' a sacred place adorned with temples and a open crematorium. Everything was so still and quiet as people paid respects to their gods.

Back to the bustling town through sweet and vegetables stalls, cows and people we visited a local bakery/confectionary/restaurant. The locals were eating dal bhaat with their hands (the Nepalese staple all-day meal of lentils, rice, potatoes and greens). We sat at the bench & tables reading the English version of the local newspaper as we were served with cups of tea and homemade veggie samosas.

They were yummy! Infact they were the best in town. We couldn't have been luckier with the weather. A photo caption of the pristine Himalayas in the paper described the previous day 'a phenomena' with crystal clear visibility of the full Himalayan Range.

After that we walked along the street for a while before heading off back on a bus. This time we got off half way and walked amongst the fields and out of nowhere came across a local University. We climbed back uphill and like little kids raced one another to the resort. We sat in the warm sunshine on the roof of the restaurant for the rest of the afternoon. It just felt good to be up there!

That night we had a party in one of the room's balconies and let ourselves be elevated by the white spirit!!! The night - a sky of diamonds!

Next day we headed towards our final destination of our M&M tour; Kathmandu - the heart and capital of Nepal. It wasn't far off and got there within a couple of hours tops. A short tour of the Thamel (the heart and soul of Kathmandu) made us feel at ease and at home with the number of hippie westerners wondering about and narrow streets lined with bookshops, bakeries, patisseries, pubs, restaurants, markets, souvenir shops boasting colourful hand-made products. We fell in love with it! We ate at a western cuisine restaurant then headed off for a bit of shopping.

At one point I decided to stop with Aaron and Jori at the internet cafe to check my flight for Bangkok. Funnily enough, my reference number 'could not be recognised'. I thought I'd check again later but a funny feeling was stiring inside of me. Putting it aside I joined the rest of the group for a tour around the Durbar Square. We squeezed our way through people, cows......I just realised that I mentioned 'cows' many times in this blog, actually they roam about just like people in the streets of Nepal, this cause they are considered sacred Hindu creatures, and even more valuable than human life...... motorbikes, old cars until we finally got to a pot pori of Hindu and Buddhist temples amongst them the Royal Palace. We also had the honour to see the Kumari Devi for a few seconds. The Kumari Devi is a girl who is chosen from others mainly for her beautiful looks and during her reign is condisered to be the Living Goddess for both Hindu and Buddhist worshippers and as such is an object of worship during ceremonial religious occasions. Her house, the Kumari Ghar is a store-house decorated in magnificent carvings. We weren't allowed to take any pictures when paying her a visit in the courtyard of her house, however this is what she looks like. The notoriously popular Freak Street was still open and bustling with business competing with the open market of freaky stuff just round the corner. There was something romantic and mystique about the place which I felt I has getting hooked on instantly.

We decided to buy Sharon a thangka - a Buddhist type of scroll-painting generally used to adorn monasteries. In Kathmandu they were an expensive souvenir for Westerners. We bought her a classical one; the wheel of life - a visual representation of the Abhidharma teachings, the Art of Enlightenment. After shopping and bargaining our way around we finally bought the thangka from a young artist's shop. I loved the paintings and thought of buying one for myself before leaving Nepal, that is within a couple of days, or so, I thought.

Later that evening, I checked my flight again and when I got the same result decided to make a call to the ThaiAirways office. Unfortunately, there was no reply, it was Saturday but their offices were closed. I had no option but to find them and check things the next day. I was due to fly out of Kathmandu to Bangkok on Monday.

I still decided to go and look for the airline's offices. I set out desperately but soon enough got lost in the maze of the Thamel streets. I gave up in the end and decided to tackle it the next day. Warily, I found my way back again. I scouted the printed papers I had with me for contacts, references, bookings, etc... but nothing gave me peace of mind. I sat on the step outside of the internet cafe. I was going through Intrepid's trip cancellation terms and conditions when at one point I raised my head and got sight of Kate and Jori coming up to me. Then my vision blurred. They comforted me and promised everything will turn out right in the end. It was their sympathy that caused tears to run. Somehow, I did not feel sad. Despite the sense of loss; of loosing out on a big trip to the South East and the fear of not knowing what will happen next, the weird sensation I felt earlier was intensifying. It grew as the day wore off and manifested itself clearly within the next two days.

............
Nicky
X X X X
mmmuuuuuuuu!!!!!!

Zhangmu & crossing the border

2008-06-09T04:26:00.006+01:00

Merry Xmas!!

It was mid-November last year, i.e. 2007, and I was with a bunch of others being driven in Landcruisers across from Tibet and into Nepal.

We were barely an hour's drive from Tingri when one we were alarmed by a bursting tyre and our car took a sudden sharp swivel. Our driver mastered the brakes and steered the car to a halt at the side of the road, avoiding a descent into a small crevice and its stream. The minute we regained our breathe and checked on each other we got out to examine what happened. The burst tyre was sent reeling into the ice-glazed stream leaving the disc brakes twisted and half buried in the ground. Sharon and Simon recovered the lost tyre while the other cars were called back for help. It wasn't an easy tyre replacement though. The drivers had a tough time banging the disk back into some form of shape so it could be fitted with a spare tyre. It took ages to get back on the road during which we not had a long pee break (!) and walked along the icy stream at the end of which stood an old fort in ruins.

Back on the road, we stopped at every possible viewpoint to take pictures of the Himalayas. We were so lucky to have had another splendid day.

Just outside our lunch town, Nyalum, roadworks brought us to a standstill. Once again we tried to use our 'friendly and playful' tactics to get through with the workmen. But nothing worked this time. It was pretty obvious that there was no way we could have got through with a huge pin roller smoothing the freshly tarmaced road.
It was fun though playing footie with a pistachio shells-filled plastic water-bottle. We spend about an hour or so dashing about chasing the 'ball' with the drivers and workmen. Then some Chinese drove up to us. Seeing that there was no way that they could drive on the road, they reversed and side-tracked their way across the fields. On seeing this our drivers chased them up letting them guide us through quite a bit of off-roading. It was pretty bumpy and muddy. At one point the local peasants and farmers decided to block our road with stones and bribed us into clearing the passage. They actually bribed each vehicle and cunningly enough probably earned a month's worth of wages. Silly and funny, but at least we got ourselves back onto the road.

It was somewhere around 4 or 5pm when we got to the centre of Nyalum. We stopped for late lunch or early dinner in dingy restaurant. We had plenty of time to kill anyways as the pass into Nepal was only due to open at 6.30pm. During that time, Sharon went to have her hair done at a local hairdresser while the rest of us lingered about buying very 'expensive' chocolate by which time we were craving desperately for. Snow started to fall. It was our Xmas day after all so snow was very appropriate! It got heavier by the time we left the village and it couldn't have started at a better or rather worse timing; crossing the mountain pass.

Within a couple of hours the bleak grey scenary turned into a white wonderland. We drove on in the midst of thick falling snow, just inches away from a deep valley which accompanied us throughout our journey through the pass. Despite the edgy experience the scenary was magnificent; tall cypress trees carpeting either side of the deep gorge transforming themselves from green giants to a huge white blanket. I took some interesting pictures of the scenary outside in between wiping the windscreen for our fully-focused driver to see better and feeding him up with snacks to help his concentration. We continued to enjoy the view until it grew dark and the moon shone in the black sky.

As we descended down the valley the sides of the steep hillsides were illuminated with lights coming from residential homes. Closer to border we met a slow-moving trail of cars until finally we got stuck in a traffic jam. As huge lorry was trying to make a U-turn in the narrow road risking loosing grip over the steep edge. As we waited our bladders tightened. By then we were desperate for the loo not having stopped throughout at least the three hours we spent driving along the one-way and one-vehicle width pass.

Finally, we got to Zhangmu; a town serpenting its way along into the depths of the valley. The long winding road led us to our hotel - another building amongst a row of others - as the clammy air and rain welcomed us. Since everything was built on a slop the rooms were spread out vertically so that he had to climb several flights of stairs before getting to our rooms. Catherine and mine's was at the very top. And being at the top it was probably the best room - the penthouse if you may - with an ensuite shower and seatless western toilet. It was cold, unwelcoming and not quite clean. The flushing wouldn't work well while the water taps were twisted out of place. We changed hurriedly, made ourselves look pretty and boosted our sugar levels with a Mars bar. We met Sharon in minutes and together we joined the others at the dance club (the ninma) just beneath our hotel. It was still empty but was quickly filling up with young late teenagers some of whom were about to give us quite a sassy karoke and dance show.

After the show the dance floor was free for us to perform. And man what a performance! I danced it away into the wee hours of the morning. I ended up being twirled and swung by one of the hot dancers, and phew it was HOT with all those sweaty bodies. Ragu, my dancing partner of the night was a big romantic and tried to even rob a goodnight kiss from me, but I left him all for Sharon's delite, his 'old-time' favourite, who by the way was being courtshipped by Tashi, the owner of the hotel!!! One hell of a steamy night!!!! :)

Back in our room I had had to take a shower despite it being past 2am and the water stone-cold! I barely slept, feet freezing in my sleeping bag. Next day was a haze. We woke up early and bought breakfast from the bakery next door; a pastie filled with transparent-looking suet and wilted green leaves. Definitely not pleasing to the eye and least the palate! We exchanged our money for rupees from street currency vendors then walked to the Chinese border to check out of 'China'. We drove a little further before saying goodbye to our wonderful drivers. Next thing we grabbed our backpacks and crossed the border into Nepal.

I did not expect it to be or feel any different, well at least not immediately but the second we crossed and thread foot into the new country, Nepal welcomed us with it's clammy weather, vibrant or rather noisy people, bustling their way along an endless line of fully loaded trucks and busses, hooting horns and yelling drivers. The sun shone brightly in the blue sky - a far cry of the previous snowy and cold day. The air was humid and lush with oxygen and green scenary. What should have taken us 20minutes took us about an hour to get to the Last Resort. Our bus parked at one end of a valley so we had to traverse to the other end over a suspended bridge - the bridge from which we jumped off the next day!

The Last Resort proved to be a haven. There we were, drinking cocktails in the sun in T-shirt and shorts, surrounded by huge colourful butterflies, deep green slopes. Our rooms were dispersed across the terraced lawns. I shared a comfortable and lavish 4-man tent - a dream when compared to our recent accommodations. Not to mention hot running water from the outdoor showers! Oh yes, hot water, finally! oh, and proper clean western loos!!! We spent most of the afternoon sunbathing while seeing others head dive into the valley below from the edge of the bridge. Most of us courageously booked ourselves for a bungee jump next morning then had a lovely dinner in the chilled-out low sofa restaurant / lounge area of the Resort.

We were woken up at about 5.30am next morning to make our way to the bridge. It was a bit chilly and the 160m drop from the bridge made us shudder even more. We were ranked by our weight and being the lightest I was the last one to jump off from our group. We sang, shouted and cheered the next one down. When my turn was up there was no one to sing to me :( so I sang on my own. The 'bungeemasters' giving me the odd looks as they prepared me for the dive, roping my legs together.

I was on the edge, arms wide open waiting for the master's GO! It was an endless nerve-wrecking wait. Then I leaped into the valley below. The world stopped. There was silence. The dizzy surroundings of the valley toppled over so I lost all sense of direction. Split second later the wind whipped hard into my ears and I felt my breath again. I was diving into a head rush so the seconds my lungs filled with air I let out a hell of a yell. At the rebound I jerked back up again by the tug of the thick elastic rope I was attached too. The tightening pain around my ankles was quickly released as I bobbed up and down in mid-air and let more air out of my lungs at every yell and scream. I let my arms hang loose and enjoyed the strange sensation of the upside down world. Adreladine was at its peak!
Suddenly, I realised someone was yelling at me from the bottom of the valley. I got sight of a man pointing a long bamboo stick at me. Then I remembered that I had to grab it to be hurled back on solid ground. Gradually, I was lowered on a kind of stretcher. They untied my ropes and in no time I dashed to embrace the others who were cheering me from the sides of the valley. It was a steep half hour or so climb back up to the Resort. But it was worth it especially the hearty buffet breakfast after that :) Not to mention the DVD session of each of our dives. By the end of it were laughing our heads off!

The rest of the day was spent lazing around in the warm sun until it was time to hit the road again at 4pm. Our next destination was Dhulikhel - a village in the mountains with spectacular views of the Himalayas.

Nepal here we are!!!
Nicky
XX X X

Everest Base Camp

2008-06-09T01:58:00.006+01:00

hi all

Next day after visiting Sakya, we set out at 8am and headed off to Everest Base camp at 5200m altitude. We were all pretty nervous and excited at the same time. The air was cold and we couldn't imagine how colder it would be further up there. We were already at about 4800m and by then adjusting to the cold and altitude. To make things less easy however, Gemma dropped her water bottle all over me so not only was I wet but looked as if I wet myself! Luckily, she had a hot water bottle with her, and that helped quicken the drying process.

We got the highway, long, wide and empty and after a few metres, our local guide, Jimmy stopped the troupe and pointed at it. There it was the tallest peak in the world. It was a clear as ever against the limpid blue sky. Showing off it's grandeur and almost saluting us with smokey wisps of snow flying off from it's peak.
Sharon later commented that she had never it like this on any of her tours and so we were very lucky :)

We drove on and soon enough its other companions came into view. The range of mountains were like a perfect oil painting, their canvas, the clear blue sky. We were gobsmacked and asked our drivers to stop at every bend to take pictures.

Later a small Tibetan village welcomed us for lunch. We set on carpet-draped sofas in the heat of the sun which glared strongly from behind the window panes. We discussed hypothermia and frostbite which although out of place in that tiny warm and cosy restaurant, were well within context for the night ahead. We set off again after lingering a while longer on those comfy sofas, stomachs full of of Tibetan eggs, tomatoes, rice and bread. The road to Base Camp was bumpy and dusty but then what did it matter when we were being driven there?!

Just before getting to Base Camp we stopped at the Rongpbu Monastery - the highest situated Monastery in the world. The wind was picking up making the air even colder. I was so cold, I hardly felt like moving. Even taking photos was quite a task. We visited the dorm quarters; a line of small rooms in great need of refurbishing. The walls were worn, paint peeling off, the windows, fragile and wafer thin especially with the North Face backdrop behind them. The rooms were bare except for a couple of hard wooden beds with not enough bedding and blankets on them. There was just one pair of disgusting wooden-fenced squat toilets out in the courtyard, which were well exposed to cold and wind, in case they got too smelly!

So that was it, our stay for the night. Six of us had decided to spend the night there, including myself. By that time I was feeling much better and anyways couldn't resist such a once in a lifetime opportunity. We were so excited and very nervous. Sharon kept warning us of the shear cold we were about to expose ourselves to, having gone through a night herself on one of her previous tours. I was filled with energy and positiveness and was already thinking of having an all-in-one room huddled-up together party.
I really wanted to walk it to Base Camp but Sharon was against that :(
There was no way we could have done it that afternoon as the others had a long drive to get to their accommodation in Tingri and doing it the next day we could have risked poor visibility. Even so, Sharon was skeptic of taking on the responsibility of walking us at 5000m altitude for 2 to 3 hours. So, I went with the majority and visited Base Camp by car.

It was windy and freezing cold despite the sun. We climbed a small hill to get to the yak's skull with horns and prayer flag monument. It was out of this world. The air was getting to us and I started feeling a bit light-headed, more of it due to ecstatic feeling. As I looked up at Everest's peak I wondered what it would be like to start trekking from that altitude up to over 8000m.

Back at our rooms Catherine took out a 'Cadbury's' dairy chocolate bar to celebrate us being there. We gazed at the wonderful vista from our window holding our breaths at it. Suddenly, Sharon burst into our room and like a bolt out of the blue put a stop to our dream, or which could have been a nightmare! The Chinese Military wanted us out there asap. We were given strict orders; the group could not split up, we had to travel as one. Unfortunately, since Simon was ill, we had no choice but to join the others. In other words, leave Rongpbu. I couldn't believe my ears and honestly, thought Sharon was having a laugh until I dashed out almost getting knocked over by one of tall men in green. Disappointingly, we loaded our stuff and set off to Tingri.

Everyone was silent for a long while until Gemma burst into tears. We hardly said anything as all the screaming and yelling was going on in our heads.

Tingri was a place forsaken by the Buddhas! It stretched itself thinly along the Friendship Highway into Nepal. It was actually just a motel stop. Our line of rooms were literally at the edge of the village facing a plain of barren brown land. All across and towards the right were the Himalayas - the only proud jewel of this village. Our rooms were simple; two beds, some bedding and a bulb and even smaller that the ones at Rongpbu. Infact other than that, the difference was minimal well, except of an altitude of about 250m less which made it slightly warmer than up there! Still freezing cold. We reluctantly had dinner over which we tried to heighten our spirits by coming up with some lively thoughts. We discussed bringing 'Secret Santa' night forward to that night or the next day. In the end we decided to exchange our out-of-season Xmas gifts the next morning over 'Xmas breakfast' as some us were still too moody to even come out of their room and join us for dinner. By the end of the evening Flip and I were singing carols at the top of our voices making the locals stare at us then burst into laughter.

It was another splendid morning. I woke up early and decided to go for a walk across the barren land opposite our rooms. I couldn't take my eyes off the mountains and by the time I was back, I sat on the step outside our room in the lovely sun and cried my eyes out. Not sure why. But I was kind of expecting the big mo at any point throughout the journey and probably this was it. Finally, it was a kind of release too. Catherine comforted me and when I was happy again joined the others for the big Xmas breakfast. The dinning room was full of smoke (from cigarettes and the centre fire stove) and sunlight. We ate then Sharon started to go round with sacks of gifts letting each one (inc the drivers) pick their choice. My pair of fluffy carpet slippers went to one of the drivers for whom I was glad. The other gifts ranged from Tibetan music CDs to foldable scissors. Then, my turn came and I picked up one of the biggest...pink panties ever!!! Oh yes, it was one of Michelle's extra surprise gifts. I joked about with it and flaunted it over my walking trousers reducing our (driver) men to tears with laughter :) :) :)

It was great and we all felt good by the end of it. Best part was donating my big down jacket (the one I wore for Base Camp) to the woman who ran the place with her husband and kids.

Luckily, Sharon managed to expedite our trip by a day so we didn't need to spend another cold night in Tingri. We set off for Zhangmu, the border town between Tibet and Nepal. That drive was a long and full of adventures, mostly fun and scary stuff!!

....tra la la la ....
Nicky
X X X

Little Sakya

2008-05-31T08:42:00.007+01:00

Cho dey mo!

The name Sakya ("pale earth") derives from the unique grey landscape of Ponpori Hills in southern Tibet near Shigatse, where Sakya Monastery, the first monastery of this tradition, and the seat of the Sakya School was built by Khon Konchog Gyalpo (1034-1102) in 1073.*

I hardly remember anything of the 4-hour journey. I snoozed and slept it off, sunk in my seat hiding behind one of those Chinese face musks. The dust was noxious and toxic. As we entered Sakya, four white-washed stupas welcomed us at the side of its hills. My friends were already talking of hiking up to them that afternoon. My spirit was willing but not as much as my body. We got to the only hotel which was quite out of synch with the rest of the town. The building was modern, ceramic tiled-floors and stairs with wooden bannisters. The rooms were spacious decorated with dark wood carved beds and furniture. The building was as cold as its stone! There was no heating whatsoever so Catherine and I just tucked ourselves in bed clothes and all throwing many others on top of us.

We had lunch at a local family-run teahouse. The young girls and their dad who were very pleased to see a group of foreigners, served us typical fried rice, noodle soup and jasmine tea. We couldn't help but sit and watch the Tibetan music videos on the small TV hanging from the wall. 'Very cheesy!'(i.e. retro, bad acting, flashy performance and out-of-tune singers riding across fields on their horses). But we enjoyed it ;)

Later that afternoon I decided to head off for a walk on my own towards the stupas on the hill. As I walked along the rumble a bunch of girls shyly sniggered at me. The locals weren't used to having many foreigners, except for Chinese, that is. Another bunch were washing clothes in the stream. The red stone flat-roofed houses were slowly being over-arched my the new cement buildings, matching the hotel we were in. Typical communist Chinese architecture.

I got to a lonely and empty monastery and was so tempted to just walk into the central courtyard but decided to step back and continue on my walk. The road turned into a rough dusty track which snaked its way at the edges of the hill. At one point I had to stretch my back against the wall to let a family on pilgrimage pass by. I smiled timidly and they nodded back admit their prayers.

As I walked on I came across a run-down village which although seemed uninhabited threw signs of life at me in the form of calf tied at the front door, hens pecking at the ground. Just when I thought no one was around, I heard someone speak English. I caught site of two people trying to hid behind some rumbled walls. Then I realised that they were going for a pee. I decided to wait for them. I scared them off with my 'hello!' They weren't expecting me, of course. They were Jori and Aaron on their way to the stupas. We joined up. Within a few metres a couple of grime and dirt covered boys tried to show us the way across to what seemed another tiny village; a cluster of houses over a wooden bridge. We smiled and thanked them back. None of them spoke any English. We weren't sure were they tried to take us but it was surely where we wanted to get, that is, the stupas. The boys kept in our footsteps. We didn't mind them the least. They were friendly. The elder one, who was dressed in a black dusty jacket over a dirt-smeared shirts. Both boys wore rolled up trousers and their feet were showed through the holed and ragged shoes.

They took us to a tiny monastery and there at the door was an old monk. He invited us to come inside. We entered, very warily. The old monk didn't know any English either and spoke to us in Tibetan as he widely gestured towards an alter then a cave in which was a heavily decorated with a colourful deities surrounded by many orange ringed-flowers. The floor was covered with banknotes. We thought he wanted us to throw a small donation, so we did. We then took Aaron's water bottle, ducked under the rope-entrance and filled it with 'sacred water' - a stone basin with water which was sitting infront of the Buddha statue. Although Aaron thanked him deeply there was no way he was going to drink it, of course.

We left an proceeded towards the stupas. But the two little lads had other plans and guided us towards another Monastery. We actually climbed a wooden ladder onto the roof and from there had one of most spectacular view of the little town amongst it the rectangular-shaped Sakya Monastery. A monk quickly signalled us down with a you're-in-out-of-bounds-region look on his face.

Finally, we got to the stupas. Our young guides insisted that we'd walk round one of them we guessed it was a form of a blessing. So we circled round each one as if to symbolise our spiritual victory on reaching our mini pilgrimage destination. At one point, the older lad wrote '1808' in the sand with a twig. We couldn't decipher what that meant or implied. Later, our local guide told us that '1808' was the year the originals of those stupas were destroyed. They were rebuilt given Chinese approval in 1998.

On our way back we met the family on pilgrimage again and they asked us to follow them. The track was precarious, walking along a narrow roughly-cut track jutting out from the side of the hill. We finally made it back to the hotel, just in time to join the others to tour the huge Sakya Monastery. Unfortunately, the Monastery was rebuilt by Chinese thus it's blend architecture. The only rich feature being a marvellous sand mandala inside the Monastery. We also walked along the perimeter of the Monastery's roof overlooking the massive centre courtyard.

We had dinner at the same restaurant where we had lunch then tucked ourselves tight in bed trying to keep warm all night.

Next......Everest base camp ....and did I finally got to stay there overnight??!?!?
ta for now
Nicky

* taken from Wikipedia

Shigatse

2008-03-18T22:30:00.014Z

Cho day mo!

It was a short 2-hour drive from Gyantse to Shigatse - the second largest city in Tibet and the seat of the Panchen Lama. The latter ranks close to the Dalai Lama and is the reincarnation of the Amitabha - the Buddha of Infinite Light. Since the death of the 10th Panchen Lama in 1989, the heir currently in throne has been subject to much controversy. Following the current Dalai Lama proclamation of a 6-year old boy, Gedun Choekyi Nyima, in 1995, the Chinese government decided to choose the heir themselves so that the Dalai Lama's choice is virtually under house arrest somewhere in Beijing (or so it is believed).

Our hotel was just infront of the Tashilhunpo Monastery luckily enough especially cause I was feeling quite ill with my blocked up sinuses. I just had to go to bed the minute we got there. I thought I wouldn't get out of it when a bout of energy seemed to hit me later in the evening. So I headed off to the Ninma with rest of the group....and danced to my heart's content. The music was a kind of fusion between Indian and Chinese. Whatever it was it definitely was fun and funny as we tried to copy the locals' dancing steps bumping into each other, to say the least. Then at 10.30pm the stage was lifted and we enjoyed a good taste of Tibetan talent; folk dancing, chord playing and singing. Was great to watch especially the cute looking guys!!! At one point we had a special guest singer - a rock'n'roll midget with a punk shaved head wearing leather jacket and boots. He was a real comedian and by the end of his karoke he was barely visible under a mountain of katas! The latter are coloured silk scarves generally white, which are placed around the neck of the performer by members of the audience as a show of appreciation.
We lingered till about 2 or 3 am with the ninma show continuing till way after 4am. As we staggered out of the theatre we were chased by a few locals especially men, who took a fancy for us bustling cuties!!! We finally made it to the hotel after loosing our way in the pitch dark streets, forcing us to retrace our steps right from the start, that is the theatre.

Next day I had to force myself out of bed. I went for a small shop with Catherine. Everything was a hazey daze. Somehow, I managed to buy the secret santa gift, wrote an email or two and bought a couple of hot water bottles for 'the coldest night ever' on our tour which was only one night away. With my head still spinning I visited the Tashilhunpo Monastery in the afternoon.

The Tashilhunpo Monastery is one of the 6 great Gulukpa monasteries founded by the 1st Dalai Lama back in the 15th Centuary and which eventually flourished since its head the Panchen Lama was recoginised as the the embodiment of the Amitabha. The monastery was built in 1477 and was once inhabited by 4000 monks but nowadays only 600 remain there. The Monastery is almost like a fortified village with lots of chapels and halls separated by narrow cobbled and steep streets.
The Great Hall houses the tomb of the 4th Panchen Lama. Other tombs within the complex include those of the late 10th Panchen Lama as well as the 5th and the 9th. Each tomb has beautifully decorated stupas most of which are encrusted in gold. The Monastery also boasts of the world's largest Maitreya Buddha ; 26m tall, 300kgs of gold and 150tons of copper and brass.

[I did not take any photos within the building and chapels out of respect]

After the tour we scouted the market just outside the monastery. I bought cedar-scented prayer beads and some fruit then just went back to bed until dinner.
That evening we just picked one of the Tibetan run restaurants opposite the monastery. The food was ok but the dessert was scrumptious (not really!) - Yuk butter cheesecake ...yuck!

I could barely sleep that night with my jammed sinuses. Next morning I was and probably looked so poorly that even Sharon suggested that I'd avoid the 'coldest night' at the Rongpbu Monastery, in other words Everest Base Camp. That made me feel twice as miserable :( :(

Did I or didn't I spend the night at the Base Camp?? ....read my next article and you'll know!

tashi delek (all the best)
Nicky

The Friendship Highway & Gyantse

2008-03-12T23:30:00.023Z

hello & thanks for reading my stories!!!

I must admit that writing my personal recounts of my travels across China and Tibet are not always pleasurable especially following the recent riots of mid-March 2008, in Lhasa and other parts of Tibet. I admit fighting back tears at times and blinking hard at the screen as I type, recalling back memories of the places I visited and people I met. Just a few months ago we could but only sense the tension. Now that it has exploded, I can't help thinking 'how lucky I was to have traveled through Tibet unscathed'. Helpless and frustrated about the whole situation, writing is my only consolation and above all the only way to share my wonderful experience with the rest of the world.

Having visited Samye we proceeded to Gyantse which stands at an elevation of 3950m and is situated in the Tsang Region. Even though we had a 10-hour drive ahead of us magnificent scenes and intriguing adventures accompanied us throughout the journey not to mention lengthening it too!

Within just the first two hours of our trip we were stopped by the Chinese Military who wanted to inspect our drivers' licenses and permits for driving a group of foreigners. I couldn't help feeling sorry for our Tibetan drivers who were deprived from driving freely across their own country.

We started a steep ascent reaching an approx. elevation of 5000m. The long winding round was making some of us feel nausea and dizzy. Finally, right at the very top our eyes met the most wonderful lake situated at the highest altitude ever. This was the Yamdrok. We tried to take our photos without falling for the Tibetan sellers' temptations of beaded necklaces and yak rides! Well, then here I am on one of them complete with 'helmet'!!

The view was beyond us. The ever so turquoise lake wriggled itself motionless around the adjacent mountains. At 5000m high it was cold actually, freezing cold. Fortunately, the only tiny wooden building at the height was a squat loo. And what a loo!! Stainless steel, with a vacuum-suction flushing just like those on planes. Water would just freeze at that altitude, of course.

We started our descent and made our way to a little town called Nagartse for lunch. The long-winding lonely road stretched itself smoothly around the mountains, along the ever-so-blue river. It was brand new as the Chinese government had it constructed in time for the Olympics which were about to take place in less than a year's time.

All was smooth until we bumped into the Military Police. They stopped our vehicles and without saying a word, not even a syllable in Chinese, they thrust their hand through the drivers' windows and pulled out the key from the engine. Sharon tried to converse with them. She didn't even dare ask why we were made to stop as she knew they wouldn't even reply as they would find her questioning insulting. The only half-tempted response she got with the help of our drivers, was the approx. length of time before we were allowed to proceed with our journey, 4 to 5 hours! It was red tape at its best. The new road was probably a good excuse to make the military's domineering presence felt and being a bunch of Westerners we were probably their best catch for the day.

About 4 to 5 hours was obviously unacceptable especially for no explanatory reason. So Sharon decided to put her 'friendly' tactics into action once again. She hunted us down for snacks and Jori gave her a bag of pistachio nuts while I gave her another of salted and honey-coated nuts. Armed with goodies Sharon joined our drivers who were lulling around like toddlers waiting for their dads to give them their toys back.
They refused the nuts offering and despite her diplomatic and friendly efforts Sharon failed even pick up any form of conversation.
After about an hours wait they decided to let us go again for no apparent reason. Unfortunately, the answer to our stopping question was quickly answered as within a few minutes into our drive the road met a dead end, or rather an unfinished part so that we had to off-road across streams with large pebbly beds.

Thanks to the new road however, we discovered another extraordinary view which up till that day was hidden to any foreigner's eye. The photo just says it all.

We got to Nargatse where we had lunch at one of the two restaurants in town. Back into our Landcruisers we proceeded along the 'The Friendship Highway' only to be stopped again by Chinese road constructors within 2 miles out of Nargatse. Again there was no apparent reason why we couldn't drive along. The road, although not yet tarmacked was good and wide enough to get by. The workers lousily sipped tea in their tent as our drivers desperately tried to create conversation with them from outside. Desperate needs require desperate measures. So this time Sharon decided to play a ball game rather than offer nuts. Cleverly enough she turned traffic cones into bats and a plastic water bottle into a ball. In minutes a game of rounders was in full swing. Annoyed with all the noise and bunter the team of foreigners caused, our captives made us leave immediately!

Finally, we got to Gyantse and what a way to end such a day than a dinner at a pretty Western cuisine restaurant?! The Yak Restaurant was a true treat, not only was it across the road from our hotel but it served really yummy steak and yak burgers!!!

Despite a hot shower we were cold all night. Next morning's breakfast at the Yak restaurant made up for it though. The Tsuklahang Monastery was our first site of the day followed by its next door neighbour, the Kumbum stupa, or as it's better known as the Pelkhor Chorten, home of '10,000' Buddha images. It took us well into an hour to go in and out each one of its tiny chapels, each containing a different statue dedicated to a deity. The 8-floor Kumbum, is quite a symbolical & spectacular piece of architecture.

The next monumental building we visited was the town's Dzong or Fortress. We could have walked up the steep hill but given the altitude and lack of time our drivers took us to the foot of it. A breath-taking flight of stairs as well as view of the town and monastery on top, awaited us.

The descent was an easy one, so together with some others, we walked downhill and back into to town to a final but well-deserved lunch of Yak Burger with cheese and fries at the one and only Yak Restaurant!

Samye

2008-03-09T05:55:00.016Z

Hi again ...

Having spent 5 days in Lhasa we set off to the Samye Monastery in the Shannan Region. It was a good 4 to 5 hour drive from the capital city. The journey was a very dusty one as we traversed a tiny portion of the Tibetan Grasslands or rather desert. The scenery was bright beige and blue as lovely weather accompanied us throughout. The arid dry land had mirror lakes as its beauty spots.
We reached a high view point where I decided to throw a batch of colorful 'lucky flying horses' into the air. Time and place couldn't have been more appropriate. We were the only group of people out. Other than us only the wind dared to break the silence.

We entered the small mandala-shaped city with the Samye Monastery at its heart. The only lodging was a hostel just paces away from the Monastery itself. There were some other minibuses and coaches parked tightly next to each other in the internal yard. Most of whose passengers were either locals on pilgrimage or Chinese 'local' tourists. We were practically the only Westerners there.

Our drivers and hosts helped us with our backpacks to the tiny rooms surrounding the yard. The bedrooms weren't too bad actually quite cosy looking with tonnes of bedding on them to keep our bodies warm from the cold chill air of the night. Luckily, Catherine and I got the room furtherest away on the top floor so we had a terrace to ourselves with a spectacular view of the Monastery to our right. The clean squat toilets were just at the other end of the terrace. The showers, I never saw.

We had lunch of fried rice, egg and tomatoes in the hostel's modest restaurant. Then at around 4pm went to pay a visit to the heart of the city. The Samye Monastery is the oldest one in Tibet and the only one to conglomerate the four sects of Tibetan Buddhism; Nyingma, Kagyu, Sakya and Gelug. The Monastery was a large and colourful as all the others we had visited so far, however different. *The whole construction is quite complex. It replicates the universe as described in the sutras. The central world Mount Meru is represented by the majestic Wuzi Hall. The Sun and Moon chapels stand in the north and south as the sun and moon in the universe. Four larger halls and eight smaller halls are distributed around all sides of the central hall, symbolizing the four large continents and eight small ones. In the four corners lie the Red, White, Black and Green Pagodas guarding the Dharma like the Heavenly Kings. A circular wall surrounds the temple as if marking the periphery of the world. The layout of Samye Monastery resembles the Mandala in the Esoteric Buddhism.

Having paid our visit, Sharon our leader wanted to take us for an 'acclimatisation walk' - a small hill climb of about 350m - just enough to get our heads clear off the high altitude and therefore have a good night's sleep. The steep climb wasn't nice n' easy and was quite slippery with no hard tracks up it. But in the end it was definitely worth it. We were so caught up with the view that we spent at least an hour up there. The small summit was a sanctuary in its self. A lonely monastery occupied by a couple of monks, adorned it. We sat on the terrace, observing the mandala-shaped town on one side and the lonely mountains on the other side. We relished the gorgeous views while exquisitely savoured the peacefulness of our surroundings. The whole experience was breathtaking not to mention the cold strong wind which almost made us feel unwelcome. As the sun lowered in the distant mountains we started to make our way down.

On our way back to the hostel we felt like a good drink. We were up for celebration that night with Sharon having just announced her new job promotion. We stopped at a typical but empty restaurant and cheered the owners with our presence. We ordered local wine which was closer to vinegar but drinkable, soda which burned your throat with the concoction of sweet additives and yak butter tea, which simply smelt and tasted of nothing but pure yak's milk. Drinks went straight to our heads and a funny episode is what we needed to just tip us over.

Jori and Flip when to the squat loo and at one point we heard Jori yelling. We were stunned and during those few seconds when you're caught in-between deciding whether the yell was a call for help or not, Aaron (her fiance) jumped over the back of the sofa and dashed to her rescue - just like Flash Gordon! There was nothing to rescue her from except a urination attack from Mysterious Flip!! How the girl had managed was beyond us. The girls were hysteric and we were were soon effectuated by their laughter and haphazard story. Having calmed down we ordered some food which turned out to be quite colourful indeed. My plate was an artist's palette; pink shredded cabbage, yellow curried potatoes, a think slab of brown meat over white rice garnished with red chili sauce.

We walked back to the Monastery in complete darkness save the light from my head torch and our mobile phones. None of us seemed to want to go to bed. I made myself an instant coffee out of a sachet and munched some tasteless Cadburys underneath a sky full of diamonds. I was captivated by the wonderful gems in the still cold night when suddenly Flip burst the door open and cracked up a laugh which peeled into the stillness night into the mountains. Wearing her woolly PJs and fluffy slippers she carried their bedroom's pee-in pot. Apparently, she had won a bet with Kate, to actually pee in the pot rather than having to go to the squat toilets across the roof terrace. Well, it was hilarious especially when Kate showed us the video of her in action.

We finally made ourselves go to bed and get a good night's kip before hitting the road again for a 10-hour drive to our next destination, Gyantse.

:)
N
X

* The following description has been extracted from the following website where you can also find more details about the Monastery:-
http://www.travelchinaguide.com/attraction/tibet/shannan/tsetang/samye_monstery.htm

Lhasa - the highest city in the world!

2008-01-26T23:48:00.001Z

Hi all

finally found some time to write again...so I had left you at Chengdu and am now taking you to Lhasa.

We had an early 7am flight from Chengdu and not only did we sleep late but I had bad stomach cramps through the night. Anyways, the site of the incredible Himalayas just made me forget about them at least during the flight. They looked majestic and we just caught site of Everest with its pointed peak. On landing poor Flip (who was worse than me) forgot her passport on the plane, luckily Sharon retrieved it quickly for her.

At over 3500m of height, altitude just hit us again so we were kind of swayed our way to the bus. I dozed off for most of the 2hr ride interrupted by cold body shudders. Sharon woke us up at one point to see the largest carved Buddhas on rock.
The air was so thin, the sky so blue and the sun so bright, I felt I was miles away from planet earth. With the help of photos I kind of remember the Buddha carvings being tall and colourful.

The 'Oh Dan' Hotel was very welcoming - a comfy basic hotel in the middle of the narrow-street market. We dropped our bags and Sharon took us to the 'best Western food restaurant in Lhasa' which luckily was only a few metres away. I couldn't believe I was staring at a wonderful veggie lasagna (after weeks of rice) about to feel sick!!! Why?! oh Why?! I paid the bill, left the untouched food and dashed for the hotel......

I only managed to get out of bed the following morning and somehow ate some eggs on Tibetan toast. Still dazed and dizzy from altitude and being ill, I joined the others for a Tibet language lesson. Mmmm...from the whole list of words, well I forced myself to remember the basic ones at least.

Out in town again, the middle of the Burgkor Square I felt as if I was floating in mid-air. I was still so spaced out and dizzy. Luckily enough Cath's dehydration sachet started sipping into my system so I gradually started walking straight again! I then spiked my blood pressure with a salty packet of soup and hot salty paprika potatoes from the market. That just did the trick and enabled me to go visit the Jokhang Temple with the rest of the group that afternoon.

The Jokhang Temple is Lhasa's most sacred and biggest cathedral. I was amazed at the amount of people prostrating themselves infront of the building. The Temple inside had a central courtyard with multiple chapels all around. Monks played hide and seek coming in and out of each chapel, ensuring that each deity had enough yuk butter candles, katas, flowers to keep them pretty in their shrines. We had just went in and round one of the bigger chapels and apparently the most popular for healing prayers and offerings when the doors of the Temple opened so that a swarm of locals ran in, desperately mumbling prayers, caring sick children in their arms. The chapel was suddenly chock full with people while an endless queue waited for their turn outside. Simon reminded me of the similar behaviour of basically any place of worship, no matter what religion or place. That sparked a mental comparison with the Catholics' worship of statues. Back in my country, Malta, we have statues of saints vs Buddhas and Buddhistavas; churches vs monasteries, and believers worshiped and prayed perhaps not in the same way but just as fervently. So where's the difference? was my next question. Well, it was the belief of the religion or philosophy behind it, really. And once again I came to terms with my own believe; it's not how you practice your faith but it's how you live your life.

We left the throng of people to the tranquility of the Temple's roof. From up there, world looked at peace; with the Potala Palace right infront of us, the mountains at our backs and the busy but almost inaudible square beneath us. The scenary was a far cry from the locals' moaning prayers for freedom, cure, forgiveness, a better life in the next...

Well, I ended the day with a lovely Western dinner with Jo & Aaron and even enjoyed a Mars bar for dessert!!! (oh me and my love for chocolate!!)

Next day we visited one of the most anticipated sites of the trip; The Potala Palace. We were under strict surveillance from the Chinese and not only did we need our passports to get it but we only had an hour to tour it and get out otherwise we'd be fined. And oddly enough, our guide was not meant to tell us anything during the tour esp. since he was Tibetan. He just briefly briefed us before our entry. We were all excited half knowing what to expect in a way. We first climbed up the inumerous flight of stairs which took twice the toll due to the high altitude. Inside were internal courtyards surrounded by empty rooms with only a few retaining their stature as chapels. Apart from tourists, most of them Chinese, there were a few lucky Tibetans who managed to swipe their katas along the rails, doorways and everybit of the Palace for a morsel of the Dalai Lama's blessing be knowing of the Chinese guards. It was a touching site; the sick little children with red flushed cheeks, gleaming eyes, dangling from their mothers' sides, the hasty men pushing along while noisely murmuring prayers in a race against (tour) time. Their eyes hungrily absorbing every inch of the Dalai Lama's residential rooms.

For the rest the Potala Palace was a Verseilles, a museum, only made rich with the memory and spirit of the Dalia Lama and haunting Buddhas.

That afternoon we had a lecture in Tibetan Buddhisim medicine by the Director of one of the local hospitals. Unfortunately, I didn't last long as my bowels decided to explode once again!!! At least, I managed to attend the diagnosis session next morning!

We sat on a long sofa covered in wonderful Tibetan carpet tapestry with our pee samples sitting infront of us on beautifully carved coffee tables! The doctor called us one by one by his side. He first examined the sample, then our hands, took a reading of our pulse and started preaching. In my case, I belonged to the white sect which meant a healthy nervous system and that I was 'cold' and 'lazy by nature' cool, never expected that! The others couldn't help laughing at my astound expression.

I spent the rest of the afternoon shopping around the Chinese / Tibetan market in the Burgkor Square. I then joined the others for a visit at Braille without Borders institute - one of Intrepid's sponsored projects. We were all pretty impressed by the centre's accomplishments in teaching children and training adults to read and type and basically live with being blind.

After that we got a cab and went to see the monks debating in the courtyard of the Sera Monastery. It was quite a site (especially with some really cute-looking ones!!...ahhh we girls couldn't help noticing!!). It was a splendid sunny afternoon and we all set underneath the leave-falling trees watching clusters of monks in debate; about four of them squatting on the floor debating amongst themselves while the one standing infront of them creating and arousing the debate. Even though we couldn't understand a thing it was interesting to watch the standing monk loudly clap his hands at point or two the group would have announced.

I took the next day off and in a way a break from the Monasteries. I enjoyed Lhasa despite it's loss of authenticity and everything it actually had presented. I felt pity for the Tibetans especially the ones who weren't allowed to return to Lhasa anymore and are dispersed in other neighbouring countries. Even though highly unlikely, I do hope that one day the Dalai Lama will return to his seat again, looking over his city through his ancient telescope!

bye for now ...next up ...more monasteries & Everest base Camp
kisses
Nicky
X

On our way to Chengdu.....

2007-12-26T08:31:00.000Z

hi again.....

To continue from my previous post I woke up at 4.30am next morning as our bus was meant to leave for Chengdu at 5am. We had a 8hr drive ahead of us and lots of things planned for us at our destination. We were all set up and ready at 5 bar one - our leader!! Where was she?!?! Overslept, so we departed 10 minutes late. Nothing really, unless you bump into a road accident along a one way mountain pass, that is!!!

We were scarcely into the first one and a half hours of our journey when we stopped to a halt behind a string of other vehicles. It was just breaking dawn and none of us felt like waking from our snooze-mode and dip our noses into the cold air. But after several minutes our driver came back with the news there was an accident and we could be stuck for 3 to 4 or more hours until the Chinese police and hopefully rescue team, would come by and clear the mess.

Shocked at the news and out of curiosity we jumped out of our bus and went to check the site. A truck overturned with the weight of its cargo, cement bags and blocked the road. There was nothing we could do except start clearing the mess ourselves!!! The cement bags were heavy but we somehow hurled them between us into another truck. The grey puffs coming out of the heaving bags covering us in fine grey dust. It took us well into an hour to clear most of the lot which was blocking the middle of the road. At our efforts locals started to give us a hand. It was a great combined and amicable effort. When we thought we cleared enough to get through we stopped for a breather while some cars made their way past. Unluckily, our van needed a few more inches in width to get through. The only way was to remove the overturned truck - the biggest obstacle. That meant unloading it completely so that it would capsize away from the road.
Before we knew it Simon, just gave his all into it and with the help of some other truck loaders removed loads full. Suddenly, without warning the truck jerked upright again, squeaking and groaning like a huge dragon released from the dead. Amongst the cheering, Simon walked off a hero just like one of those firemen in the 9/11 disaster - a gastly grey figure coming out of the ashes.

We proceeded on our long journey with 2 to 3 hours delay putting our visit to the Panda Research Centre at risk. The minute we got to Chengdu we checked into our lovely hotel and sped out again on another 40minute drive out of the city to the Centre. We were already knackered by that time, however, we were keen to see the pandas and luckily managed just in time. Oh, they were so cute!!! Especially, the baby ones in their big cot sleeping, tossing and turning in their dreams.

After that we were rushed to town again, as Kevin, Cathy, Jori, Aaron and I were booked for a Chinese culture show at a outdoor Opera Teahouse. By that time we were starving and only had 10mins to pickup some dinner before the show. Our guide quickly took us to a fast-food noodle bar where we got served in a minute and downed the hot meal in seconds. We ran back to the park and enjoyed the hour's show of acrobats, opera singers, change-of-masks display etc ..over a proper Chinese cuppa tea!!

Over-tiredness kept us awake so after a well-earned hot shower, we ended up in the hero's room laughing and drinking wine :) What a day and yet followed by another short night as we had a 7.20am plane to get to Lhasa.

...next...Lhasa ..(or China town!?!?!?)

Nicky
X X XX

Homestay in Tibetan Grasslands

2007-12-12T08:31:00.000Z

Hello all,

...I know it's been a long time but hey in the meantime I crossed China into Tibet then arrived in Nepal, got stuck there for 2 weeks, then flew to Bangkok, now in Laos. In other words, I was busy travelling around!!

Well to continue with my China trip....
After our horse-trekking day across the Grasslands, Kalsang, our local guide took us to visit 2 monasteries in Langmusi. Langmusi has two monasteries located on the border of western provinces of Gansu and Sichuan. Sezhi Monastery is in Sichuan Province and Geerdeng Monastery in Gansu Province. We first passed by a sacred cave with a sacred river running infront of it, adorned with the statue of a sacred tiger and a heap of blessed prayer flags & arrows. The opening was a narrow one which however led to a huge area. Many of the locals used the boulders or rather stalagmites to rub various parts of their bodies against them to heal their ailments. There was also a narrow passage way which brought good karma to anyone who managed to scramble through. Mmmm.....the idea of a narrow dark hole didn't appeal so much so I gave it a miss.

We then visited one of the monasteries which stupa contained the body of a lama who instead of being in cremated or sky buried was preserved due to the miraculous way he died, that is, meditating in lotus position. The other monastery was recently built but just as beautiful as any other with all its coloured thangkas, tantric paintings & frescos, every-sized buddhas, ceiling-high books and the strong-scented yuk butter candles. Oh, and the deep-red monks of course. Most of the ones we met formed part of the Gelupka sect of Tibetan Buddhism which were characterised by their yellow hats.

After that we bought some snacks (and I found & raced for some odd-tasting Cadbury's!!!) from the tiny stores and set off on the long dusty road again to get to our next lodging for the night; a Tibetan winter home in Thangkor. The dry arid grasslands reminded me of the Serengeti, while the yuks reminded me of the wildebeest. After about 4 hours of driving we got to a lonely makeshift cement-built house in the middle of nowhere. This was a typical winter home so that in summer they generally lived in yuk-skin tents tending to their herds in the grasslands. The house was surrounded with yuks, their dung and their guardian, that is, 'sheep-dog'!! The family welcomed us into their 2-roomed house; the outer room the kitchen and bedroom the other larger room the lounge and bedroom. We sat on cushions spread out on the floor around a yuk-dung fuelled stove. There was no furniture except for a wall unit which contained a small TV, a DVD player, family photos and a Buddha shrine. The pretty dark and long haired women, prepared dinner in the front 'garden' and kitchen. There were three of them wives and sisters of the men who were out with the herd for days on end. They offered us jasmine tea and Muslim stick bread.

It was getting dark as the sun set behind the huge mountains in the distance. The crisp cold night air was heavily setting upon us. Standing out there in the open field was almost unreal - the quietness, the solitude, the emptiness and never-ending stretches of plain land fringed with mountains. We hurried back inside to warm ourselves up by huddling next to each other (about 13 in a room) and eating dinner. We had homemade yuk meat momos (dumplings) followed by a Tibetan noodle soup. Noodles are square rather than long spaghetti looking in Tibet. Earlier on the women together with Kalsang and our friendly-turned-chef Chinese driver just cut squarish pieces from long flat pieces of dough throwing them into boiling water.
After dinner while the younger women washed the dishes outside the grandma started turning her prayer wheels. On seeing our cameras she wanted us to take a picture of her not before putting her fake teeth in place first! She was amazing and left us open mouthed the next day when we saw her carrying a huge slab of yuk butter to sell at the market, which was the size of 2 concrete bricks on her doubly-bent back.

Kalsang provided local entertainment for the evening as a folk guitarist sat in a corner singing about nomadic life and being in touch with nature. Even though we didn't understand a lyric we were enchanted by it. Lovely voice and person too!!
Bedtime was creeping upon us so as the women laid out our beds - thin mattresses, blankets and pillows on the floor lined next to each other - we plucked up courage to go to out and pay a visit to the open air squats. It was pitch black with the only exception of the amazing stars. Our head torches met the yuks' glaring eyes. Scary! I had to fix my 'gaze' into their eyes to stop them from walking into our 'bathroom' while Kathy and I took turns to expose our buts to freezing cold air and pee in a hole in the ground balancing our feet on a plank of wood on either side!!! After that I hoped I wouldn't have to wake up in the night.

Sharon made them turn off the generated lights at 10pm and we slept in between our own snores, smelly feet till the break of dawn. Although cold, there was nothing like a first morning pee in open fresh air!!! Oh yes!! the family and out Chinese friend, prepared us a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, Tibetan dough bread, honey, tea and coffee and we helped ourselves to the previous night's dinner dessert - the yogurt with sugar. YUMMY!!! :)

We set off and lunched in a drive-through town called Huonyou. It contained only one street with shops & stores and lots of dirty and poorly-clad begging children. The afternoon drive to Guergou was spectacular. We drove around high green gold and red coloured-hills so high that you had to look vertically up to see the sky. We passed through an over 1000m long tunnel and all along, whenever we caught sight beyond the valley, the distant snow-capped mountains became larger in size. That night we lodged in a 'mountain inn', by a small river. I couldn't resist a short walk in the middle of the big trees. I felt home, as in back in the some woodlands in the UK in an instant.

After dinner Catherine, Alana and I watched 'The Silence of the Snow Lion' - a documentary about the lives of the Tibetans. We were heart-broken by the end of it. I won't go into details here but it's all about one nation oppressing and suppressing another one. One of the many things which struck me throughout our trip was their endless compassion towards life and humanity. They truly live up to one of the highest Buddhist learnings and for what their Dalai Lama's human life on earth represents. Despite everything they are happy people and smile to everyone and everything - they truly are real amazing people.

ta ta for now...next our adventure on our way to Chengdu and the cute pandas :)
lots of love & kisses to all
Nicky
X X X XX

Langmusi

2007-11-06T10:22:00.000Z

Cho dey mo!

Stopping for our ritual pee breaks became a sacrifice, one cause our bladders felt like bursting close to the hour and secondly, the air grew so cold that we squirted tears too when exposing our butts! 3 or so hours into the drive and the snow started pelting.

After 5 weary hours we arrived to yet another tiny and shanty town, called Langmusi. Our hostel was very basic; intermittent hot showers, beds as hard as cardboard but at least we had a western toilet :) This time the view from the window was that of snowy mountains.

We dined at the local Snowland Restaurant, yet another Chinese style banquet. Catherine and I were heading to bed when Gemma and Kris knocked on our door and persuaded us to go to the 'cabaret' across the road. Off we went to the 'ninma' as it is known. Local Tibetans display their singing and dancing talents. We were welcomed whole-heartedly as prob the last, if any of the Western visitors to enjoy such a show. The owner sold us some beer and tea then handed us while katas to adorn the singer on stage, well, if we liked her, that is. Of course we all did.
A young handsome Tibetan danced a cowboyish song prob a traditional nomadic dance. After that all performers and some members from the audience gathered on stage to dance in a circle. The owner encouraged us to join to. We girls did and had fun trying to follow the others' moves while Kris took photos :)

Next morning....
We had a planned horse-trek across the Tibetan Grasslands. However, given the snow the previous evening and the cold we were risking it. Next morning the organiser rented some proper nomad coats for us. So they draped us in these massive fury, long-sleeved coats and hiked us up our horses. Off we went ..... to our luck the gray snowy weather turned into bright warm sunshine :)

It was a great experience. Firstly, I had never been horse-riding before, well once, but my horse was led. It was scary and fun all the way through especially when our 3 leaders whipped our horses and yelled 'hocha! hocha!' for speed up the pace. I felt I was about to slip off the saddle at any time. However, when we trotted along I relished the wonderful scenery; infront of us last the now brown coloured grasslands, spotted with yuk and sheep and the odd black yuk-skinned tent here and there. On our right, a splendid array of snow-capped mountains. I had never seen so many mountains next to each other. They were amazing.

We finally stopped at one of the tents where our lunch was being cooked by a nomad woman. But since she was running late we were off for another ride this time ending up in a field full of yuk and sheep. Back at the tent we gulf ed on a delicious meal of shredded cabbage and potatoes on top of boiled rice. Well, we could have eaten anything at that stage we were so hungry. We rode back to the tiny town just as dark black clouds gathered on our left. We finished off with a tea on the roof terrace of our hostel facing a magnificent view of the mountains.

Next morning...
Kalsang took us to the two monasteries of the town and to a sacred cave, with a sacred tiger statue and a sacred stream just outside of it. Once inside he showed us the sacred rocks against which the locals rub various parts of their bodies to cure various ailments!! The Sertri Gompa and the Kirti Gompa (monasteries) were lovely; equally adorned with colourful katas, mandaras paintings and chapels with various Buddha statues. And one thing perpetual about these monasteries is the strong scent of yuk butter used as wax to light candles.

Well, it's yuk yuk here and yuk yuk everywhere by now. It not only stuck in our nostrils but it also became part of us too!! :)

lots of yuk to all !!!!
Nicky
X X XXX

Xiahe & the Labrang Monastery

2007-11-06T04:40:00.000Z

Cho dey mo!

Our sleeper train took us to Lanzhou. We stumbled off the train with our bags and all and clambered into a min bus. An 5hour journey awaited us. We tried to get some sleep in-between the hourly loo breaks. The loos or rather squats became worse at every stage, worse ever was the one one just at the 'gate' which marks the edge of the Tibetan plateau. But who cared we had made it ;) We were so excited we ended up taking photos of that disgusting but welcoming squat!!!!

We finally got to Xiahe. At 2900m above sea level, this tiny town tucked away just outside of Tibet. The were exhilarated and at really feeling 'hi' when we got at our welcoming guest-hotel. It was the first time we saw and met real Tibetans dressed up in their traditional costumes. The main street was busy with market stalls, shops, bikes, and pony carts passing by. If it weren't for the hotel stuff we would have never managed to carry our own bags up the flights of stairs to our rooms. We were breathless by the 3rd floor just by carrying ourselves!!! But we were in heaven or space or something of the sort as that's how it felt.

Sharon (our team leader) took us for lunch to a local restaurant just round the corner. There we tasted Tibetan bread (yummy), I dared the local porridge or tsampa which is wheat barley with yuk's butter, cheese and lots of sugar (yuck!) and yak meat dumplings or momos (mmm..so so. We also got to meet Kalsang, our local guide for the next few days; a hyper-energetic comical 32 year old daddy who speaks good English and is very patriotic, of course, like the rest of the comrades.

We were exhausted. Back at the hotel, Catherine, my room-mate and I tried to rest but we were too excited. We tool pictures of the mountains outside our hotel window, the colourful decorated internal yard and the the ceiling of our room !!!

Later in the afternoon we joined the others and Kalsang took us to the famous Labrang Monastery. Or well, that evening he made us do the kora, which is a 2hr walk around the Monastery turning the large prayer wheels as we went along. Now that felt like proper Tibetan life! I was as happy as a kid, joyfully spinning those wheels. As we walked the back of the monastery we also got to see Gelupka (yellow hat) monks gather for their prayers in the open yard. It was great - just like the movies :) The evening air grew colder so we sped our heavy pace back to the hotel and had dinner on the top floor of a new restaurant - another typical Chinese banquet (as Sharon likes to call it). I also got to taste the bo boa cha (or 8 treasures tea) which I didn't quite give a thumbs up despite the cheers!!!

Next morning...
The highly-spirited Kalsang quickly got us to our feet and let the way to the Monastery again. A monk toured us around the various sections of the huge Monastery; from the Medicine College (which essentially looks like at part of the Monastery) to the multi-coloured yuk-butter sculptures of the deities museum to another old Buddhism relics museum to the actual worship and monks' teaching halls. The latter are adorned with colourful frescos, gold-coloured Buddha statues and photos of past lamas on either side, hanging tie-shaped katas, storey-high selves with the old Sanskrit Buddhist documents and and rows of red cushions for the monks to pray, study and meditate on. As part of our responsible tourism we did not take any pictures inside. The monk then led us to the Monastery's most important area - the souvenir shop!!! After that he disappeared leaving us at the door of the largest courtyard which was also the entrance to the 'church' as you may term it, the place where the locals where allowed in to pray and prostate themselves as well as give offerings of white katas.

What impressed me most was a very old woman who could barely walk with her stick and a monk who arm-held her at the other end. She limped slowly towards the entrance mumbling soundless prayers. At times dropping her stick in an attempt to perform the worship act. The consists of folding 2 hands at the head, then at the mouth, then at the chest and lastly lie flat, face down on the ground. Tibetans repeat this act for 108 times, in an attempt to redeem themselves or rather their bodies from earthly temptations. Sharon who tried to help the old woman reach her destination, and I were pretty impressed by the devotion and adoration of this tiny hunched earthly being. Sharon even told me that such people come from afar just like the destination of a long pilgrimage.

It felt surreal being at such altitude, our heads spun with the thin air and all that was new our Westerners' eyes.

Having the afternoon to ourselves, Catherine and I climbed a short but steep hill to get a best shot of the Monastery. Happy as ever, we bought a few snacks and fruit for our next long drive. We finally joined the others and started our next 5hour drive to Langmusi.

all for now folks.......
nicky
X X X X

Xian

2007-11-04T11:01:00.000Z

Ni Hao!

At 4.20pm we headed to Beijing's West Railway Station. We managed to squeeze ourselves into the narrow cabin train with our backpacks and all. The sleepers' compartment was split into sections of 6 bunk beds each, 3 on either side. There were no doors nor divisions so the tiny compartments led to a narrow corridor whereby people could get through to the toilets and have a smoke! We chatted, drank and nibbled till about 10.30, all excited as it was a first for most of us. Then the lights went out and we huddled onto our hard bunk beds in our clothes and tucked into the duvets provided. It wasn't an easy sleep (no wonder they're called hard-sleepers!!), obviously with the train stopping at various stations on the way too. But it was ok better than I might have ever expected. We also learnt to master pee- squatting on a moving train !! :)

We stumbled off our train at about 7.30am in Xian which is in the Shaanxi Province. Xian, is a modern city's and apart from the big shopping malls and Starbucks etc ...(!!) it has lots of historic attractions the main one however, being the Terracotta Warriors. We dropped our stuff at our nice hotel and after a quick tour and a dumplings breakfast in a tiny outlet in the backstreets of the city, we were picked up for our visit to the Terracotta Warriors. We good not stop feasting our eyes at the army that spread across 3 huge warhouses. Each of them are said to have a different faces and carry the name of the person who sculptured them. It truly is a marvel and a nation's historic gem. I couldn't believe I was standing infront of the very thing! That evening we had a chinese banquet dinner and also got to taste (well, I did, some others oozed it down!) of bo cha - an strong alcoholic drink which is drank like a tea ie warm, yuck!!! Anyways, after that and on our way to a 'pussy cat dolls' bar, we came across an open parade. People were dancing to the beat of huge drums waving multi-coloured umbrellas and fans. Our leader challenged us we'd join in...and off we went. A man handed me over his glittery umbrella and I kind of became a leader of the a trail of dancers. Oh well, not knowing what else to do I tried to follow others. Gosh we laughed so much. At first we got the nasty looks from the locals who glared at our intrusion and moreover lack of the dance knowledge and style. But then ended up joyfully prancing about with us and even taking photos of us :)

Next morning....
If it weren't for our hotel room's phone ringing at 7.30am I would have overslept. It was Gemma asking whether we would be interested in joining her and Kris to go to the South Gate park to watch people doing Tai Chi. Of course, I wanted to so I joined them within the next 10 mins. The city was misty from the morning fog or rather smog. The minute we got to the park, there was a group of elderly people dancing and beating on their little drums tied to their sides. As we strolled through the massive park we met loads of others here and there, most of them practicing Tai Chi; some individually others with their instructors. The latter demonstrated high skill especially with the swords. Of course, I was in awe. Their simple graceful gestures seemed to be so easy to follow....mmm after a few years of training, at least! At one point we came across an elderly man proudly playing his Chinese violin, which is made of two stings and played vertically instead of horizontally and called an erhu.

Further on we came across 3 pairs of badminton players and they asked us to play in turns with them, which was great. A woman and a few others were balancing a what looked like a big yo-yo. Taking note of my curious face she offered me to try it. I managed to balance it only once out of many but it was a good laugh for my spectators, who became quite a crowd by the end of my performance!!! I also got to do some leg stretching with some others too :) I must say they are very friendly people and even though we couldn't speak a common language we still enjoyed our walk in the park. Last but not least, another elderly man (well, at that hour you'd expect the younger generation to be at school or at work anyway!) was practising some Chinese calligraphy on the floor using which looked like a huge colour paintbrush the size of a broom. Pretty impressive.

Out of the park, our stomachs grumbled so we hunted for some breakfast and feasted on some kind of huge Chinese cookies; round filo pastries filled with dates and walnuts, mmm ...quite nice ;)

I then spent the next hours going through the open market in the Muslim area, which is situated towards the north of the beautiful drum tower. Having bought some souvenirs I went to the post office and posted the lot home, cross fingers the pack gets to Malta or UK!! Having picked my fresh laundry I decided to visit the mosque. Having gone through yet another narrow street market (which reminded me of Turkey) I finally found the way to the mosque, well, not quite it was a Chinese pagoda style building where muslims practice their religion apart from opening it up as a showcase for tourists, of course. Right I was ready for a foot massage at the blind's parlour. Not before bumping into Jory & Erin who were in the never-ending queue for permusan cakes. Apparently, this is a delicacy in this area so greedy and curious as we were we queued for an hour or so. The red coloured 'cakes' (made out of a certain type of tomatoe) with an very sweet filling of walnut and figs was well, nice but not to die for. I just nicknamed them Chinese doughnuts, cause so they were similarly made and fried. My foot massage was something I've had never done; one whole hour of massage both feet ....aaaaahhhhss and uuuuuhhhhhsss!!!!! but was so relaxing that I just flew back to the hotel to prepare for the next sleeper train journey.

There is no such thing as day of the week or dates when you're travelling, there's only the day that lies ahead of you; the objective or scope of that day which takes you to another step within the journey :)

ta for now, look out for more..... Nicky X X X X

Beijing

2007-10-24T08:49:00.000+01:00

Ni Hao! (Hello!)

Two and half days in Beijing are certainly not enough to go round this huge 'Olympic 2008' city !! First impressions, not much, I mean it's a big city with high buildings, only difference are the Chinese characters all over the place.
But then the best of China just hits you when you get on the Great Wall and the Forbidden City. Pity didn't have time to get to other wonderful places but I think I got to experience the creme de la creme.

I got pretty excited yesterday walking up and down along the Great Wall. It took us about 1000 steps to get to the top, then about an hour and a half just to go walk from one tower to another, maybe 6 miles out of the about 3500miles or so of it. We visited the Mutainya part. Of course, there are several sections open to tourists but you only get to do a fraction of it. After that we went for a Kung Fu show - just like watching a musical at the West End - magnificent moves and breakings.

Today we visited the never-ending Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square. The latter is about 880km long has lots of important big buildings and could hold the entire population of Malta within it. The City is a wonder. I wish the sun was out so the gold would just shine while the colours extenuate their hues from those typical Chinese style buildings.
Other intrinsic things that make China unique ....smoking & spitting (yes still going) in public, 4-star squat toilets with no paper...to mention a few!!!

ta for now, off to get a sleeper train for Xian....

Nicky
XX X

UK & Malta gems!

2007-10-18T13:58:00.000+01:00

Back from Africa I couldn't sit still!!! I started preparing and planning for my next big trip or trips?!?!?!! These last 2 months have been really hectic in-between, resigning from work, working my notice, booking trips and flights, applying for a multitude of Visas - big one being the working holiday visa for Australia, preparing to leave UK for good, packing then donating all my personal belongings to charity etc etc.. oh, and also surprising my family and friends in Malta with an unexpected visit. That was something! I'm so glad it was a success and well, I needed a good hug, a 'hello' and a sound 'goodbye' anyways! Thanks to Cindy, an 'old' colleague and friend from UK, I also managed to tour the Island too ...bringing back 'historic' memories ;)

Not only did I keep myself nice and busy over the past 2 months, but I also managed to fit in some training in preparation for the first part of the big trip, which is that, across China into Tibet and further onto Kathmandu. This trip will involve a bit of everything from plane to trains, from trekking to a bit of climbing etc etc.. so best (and hope I am) prepared. I'll be hitting a range of high altitude places again, especially from Lhasa in Tibet onto Everest Base Camp....so here I go again, second time in a year!!!!

What was the subject again?? Oh yes, was talking about training (.....imagining those Himalayan peaks right now....mmmmm....) anyways, ...oh so close now..sorry can't help it!!! Ok so, eh, apart from the usual (boring) gym, run circuit and long walk to Beacon Hill, my good friend Anthony Pizzuto (better known as 'Pizza' or 'Piz' for short) took me to the gorgeous Cheddar Gorge; a lovely 3 hour walk up and down the Gorge to end up in the quaint little cheesy village!!! Scrumptious! I mean both the cheese and the biscuits, ooops, meant walk!! Just admire the wonderful photos Piz took that day, they just say it all. Can you spot me in one of them!?!?!?!

Just about a fortnight ago I went to visit a good friend of mine, Robin in South or is it more mid-Wales? well, a place called Llandovery. Lovely, never thought Wales had such an amazing navel. It generally is all about the North and the South (which I've been to both, of course). But thanks to Robin and good other half Claire, I discovered another gem. (well, that's after getting lost a few times on the way, by the way, despite the satnav, which wasn't of much help anyway!!!) And to make me feel even more at home I got to sleep in a 100s years old (sorry Rob forgot the count you told me!!) converted barn. Oh so nicely done up!!!
[Eh, Robin would you mind sending me some photos of your lovely whereabouts to display here, pls?! ta]

Well, all for now from moi. Next update will hopefully be from China. So, if you feel you need to take a break from your mundane life, just take a quick trip with me.....add this blogsite to your bookmarks or favourites and hit it!!!

Ok, speech before I'm off....today on the eve of my next big trip which will hopefully see me settle in the Oz for about a year....I must say thanks to anyone who read the blogsite and kept up with me so far (congrats!), a BIG BIG thanks to all those who supported me all along my adventures in every way and BIG BIG BIG thanks to my family and friends in Malta - was great seeing you again :)
Love you all & miss you all

Nicky
X X XX

Cape Town

2007-10-09T15:13:00.000+01:00

hello to all,

I must say after Tanzania Cape Town came quite as a surprise but then why so I was in a completely different country just same continent, a bit like North vs South America.
I stayed on the waterfront in Cape Town throughout my week and a half visit and immediately felt like a proper tourist as opposed to a traveller. Wonderful shopping malls, hotels, restaurants the lot really, which made me feel quite out of place. Took me a while to adjust to elite civilisation again!

If anything there's lots to do in Cape Town so I quickly booked tours and trips. My first one was to Hermanus Bay for a bit of whate watching. It was still early in the season and we only managed to see two in the distance. However, the beaches all along the coast are a spectacle.

A different and interesting tour was the wine tasting one. We headed inland and visited beautiful manor houses in the middle of vineyards to taste some gorgeous wines. Oh how my head spun, yep especially sampling wines at 10 in the morning!! Stellenbosch, Franschhoek and Praal aren't only renouned for their wines but their quaintness which no wonder attracts loads of retired British.

Third time lucky due to bad weather and choppy seas, I managed to pay a visit to Robben Island. Although there isn't much to see except for long corridors with dormitories (the main prison) I couldn't help wondering what life could be like for a convict. My imagination was even fueled by the recounts of our tour guide, an ex-convict himself for about 10 years. Pity the area where Nelson Mandela lived was closed for restoration. Outside the prison site the rest of the Island is a cute little village with a school, post office and a few residential buildings not to mention the residents; people, antelope and seals.

After the cultural tours I had had to go for a bit of adventure! So off I went out at sea for a shark cage diving experience! I never thought I'd find the guts to stay in that cage for a good 45 minutes while white sharks feasted on chunks of tuna just about a metre infront of my nose! Was an incredible experience, which I have recorded on dvd. The photos show the cage we 'sat' in being dragged to the boat we were on and the other is a photo of a photo; our shark tour leader kissing one of those big cuties!!!

Being in Cape Town I had to visit Cape of Good Hope, of course! It was a long drive but well worth the scenery, to say the least. We first went up to Cape Point by cable car, I would have loved walking the gigantic boulder to the lighthouse but the weather was so unstable; one minute you get blue skies and sun the next clouds and rainstorm. Well, what could you expect being at the Cape! The view from the Point was fantastic. You got to see the different shaded oceans; the Altantic being colder is turquoise in colour while the Indian Ocean is of a deep dark blue. A quick dash along the narrow Diaz trial before a nice shower (!) took us further down and a bit closer to the waters. We next stopped at Cape of Good Hope. I must say not as spetacular however, quite monumental, of course.

Oh, and we visited the colony of tiny penguins on our way back at Boulders Bay...oh so cute!!!

Cape Town is prob one of the few Towns in the world to have a mountain right in the middle of it. This is Table Mountain and not only just over 1000m high, the summit has a surface area of 2.5km. Due to bad weather and despite the unfortunate incidents occuring throughout the week and a half of my stay I got to speed climb it up in about 2.5hrs on my very last day. Our guide took us up a very short but route. We could barely see anything once on top with the thick fog. Hard to believe but the photo shows me on the summit! Our guide made us wait for a few minutes at the top as he felt a bit of wind about to expose the view of the bays below. And what a view we had for just 5 minutes. Well worth it, though. We descended by cable car as there was no time to walk it down...I had to get to the airport that afternoon.

On other days and afternoons I just spent my time walking around the waterfront and along the endless promenades ... wishing it were summer not winter there!
Cape Town was my final African destination before heading back to UK after 2 months :) I must say quite an Out of Africa experience!!!

ta for now
Nicky
X XX

Latest News from Nicolette's school in Africa

2007-10-09T14:44:00.000+01:00

Jambo,

there's nothing like good news!!! :) Since I'm back in the UK, that's about 2 months now, I've had very little news from my school back in Tanzania. However, the little I had was good actually great :) I received emails from Dr. Asteria & Saada as well as Moses and Corneille, not to mention Joanna's visit and update on her blogsite.

I was thrilled to hear that the kids are attending their new school and have been for more than a month now. Even though the school was still empty at the time, I just got to know that thanks to two new volunteers, Martin and Kerry, the little ones now have a small black board, exercise books, abc chart, toys, pencils, pens, balls etc.. as well as 2 two temporary teachers!! :) THANK U!! (Oh, I wish I had some photos!)

Renovation works have also progressed, apparently. The walls have been smoothed and painted too, while Asteria and Saada moved their tiny offices into the new school's rooms. In the meantime, I've transferred some money into the WEMA Centre account, which was left from the donations I received from my family and friends in Malta. I hope some desks will be made with that money.

I so would have loved to have stayed at least one more month to see that everything is in place and seeing if not teaching the children myself at my school, however, I have travel plans which extend towards the East this time and that's pretty soon so it will be a while until I pay a visit....which makes me sad thinking about it. In the meantime, thank God for email and blogs, of course!! :)

ta for now
watch out for a recount of my adventures in Cape Town in my next blog - coming soon...

Nicky
X X X X

Zanzibar Island

2007-09-09T19:39:00.001+01:00

After my adventures in Arusha, Zanzibar was just like a big cushy bed ready to drift me into a world of make belief. Once landed at Stone Town I was driven for about an hour to Pongwe Beach, which is at the North East of the Island. Couldn't help thinking and comparing notes with what I had seen in Arusha. Buildings were whiter to begin with while the locals seemed to live a better life. Local girls wore long head-scarves as part of their school uniform while men wore taftas. Muslim influence was everywhere here not just in the Islamic architecture in Town. Another big difference was that no one cried out 'muzungu' on passing by. Locals were used to having loads of Westerners wondering about (or should I say honeymooners!)

The resort I chose had all the rooms or rather tiny beach houses situated on the beach so that I only needed to open the door, step out walk down a few steps to be on the white-sand beach. Lovely! Just thinking about it makes my toes curl to feel to recall that fine texture again.

I spent 4 dreamlike days on that beach. Wearing nothing but bikinis and kangas I spent my time, swimming at the early hours of the morning, reading books in a hammock and eating wonderful food :)

Being winter time the sun found it hard to shine its radiance constantly. Now and then the dark heavy clouds turned into light showers of rain. But all in all the temperatures were warm and even so the place was still stunning.

I struggled myself out of bed every morning at 6am to get a glimpse of sunrise which was right infront of me. Then couldn't resist a dip in the turquoise waters. After a scrumptious breakfast I'd find a hammock or beach bed and read for hours. It was quiet and I must say sometimes lonely too except for the small chat with the friendly staff. I did make friends with a British and French couple at breackfast and dinner of my first 2 days stays. They were a nice bunch.

At times I wondered along the long white beach for miles. Then when the tide was out, which happened everyday till early afternoon, I would walk across endless seaweed fields which were worked my the local women. Not to mention the vast array of shells I came across.

Towards the evening my only companions would be the white crabs peeping in and out of the holes in the sand unless they'd get washed away by the gentle strokes of the sea.

I dedicated only one day for touring. My first stop was a local 'Buda Spice Farm'. I was amazed to see exotic spices at their roots; candammon, tammarind, pepper, cloves, ginger, nutmeg, cococnut, vanilla pod etc... To think that they grew in jars in our kitchen cupboards!!! ;P I was invited to taste some exotic fruit and teas as well as assist the picking of young cocunut then drinking its not-so-sweet juice or rather, oily liquid. I was also adnorned with a bag made out of palm leaves to carry my fresh spices and herbs in it, and a necklace, bracelet and ring to match.

After an endless hunt for a cash-filled ATM round Stone Town, I finally embarked a boat to cross over Prison Island.
I must say the main attraction there are the huge old tortoises. They're amazing! The ones in the photos are about a hundred years old! That's me trying to feed them some lettuce. Had to be very cautious otherwise they'll bite into your hand...not very nice!!! Here's my guide, Musatafa holding one of the younger ones.
Having gathered some guts I then decided to brave the weather and cold and snorkell in the third most beautifull coral reefs in Zanzibar, which is just off Prison Island. The multi-coloured coral garden spotted with huge starfish, just mind blowing. I lost track of time and forgot all about the cold not to mention the stings from a particular sea fauna (natural habitat in coral seazones, apparently).

Back at Stone Town I couldnlt resist wondering through the narrow quaint alleys lined with curio shops.

I definitely relished the next 2 days of solitary bliss on my 'private' beach after such tiresome touring!!!

Photos say it all in this blog...enjoy the vista! :)

luv
Nicky
X X X

Have a good safari...

2007-09-09T19:35:00.000+01:00

...and sure I did!!

This is the greeting Africans generally say to people who are about to set off on a trip, journey or abroad. A kind of 'bon voyage'! Well, all in all I must say I had a good 6-day safari!!!

I joined another couple from the states and together with the cook and the guide/driver we set off in a large 4WD. All our things packed up and tied tightly on top of it.

We started our safari at Lake Manyara which is less than an hour's drive away from Arusha. The campsite was quite lavish and Luther (the guide) warned us that this was the only one so, the rest were far more rudamental.

We spent the day driving around in the large park. At first we only saw loads of baboons which seem to have fun picking on each others lice right in the middle of the road.
The elegant impalas embellished the wild countryside. As we got closer to the Lake we caught sight of some action through the binoculars; three lionesses chasing some warthogs disappeared behind a bush then reappeared with chunks of their lunch dangling from their mouths.

In no time we saw all sorts of wild life; flamingos & pelicans, more warthogs, giraffes and elephants. The latter ain't that friendly. Some of them seemed to be charged and at one point a couple viciously and teasingly stood within a few metres of one another blocking our way. We had to wait for their nerves to calm down and shove off to proceed. But hey, we're the ones to invade their space not vice versa. Towards the end of the day we saw our first zebras and hippos swimming in their lucious muddy pool.

That night a bunch of bush babies decided to turn my tent into a trampolin, so you can imagine how much sleep I managed to get.

Next day we set off to our next desination; Ngorongoro Crater. A massive Crater of 8,288km squared - which is about the size of Crete! To get into it we drove upwards to the edge of its rim which stands at about 2250m in height. Dense vegitation and low clouds paved our way to the campsite.

The imense expanse of flat land which makes the Crater was rich with lakes and wild inhabitants. We had the honour to see a couple of black rhinos (these are nearly extint and only a few of the few live in the Crator). A line of jeeps had to stop to let the two large-than-life celebrities!

Back on top of the Crater, at our campsite, the air grew colder as dusk fell upon us. I slept well that night unaware of the fact that we had quite a few visitors roaming around our tents; hyenas, jackals and wildebeest. Pity I missed the party!

Next day we headed for the Maasai village. Their guide came out to greet us. He was probably the only English-speaker in the whole tribe and therefore making him the official tourist guide. Dressed in the traditional purple and red blanket, sandals, decked with ornaments and long 'shepard' stick, he took $50 from us then asked us to wait just outside the wooden round fence which surrounded the village. The tribe came out to greet us with their welcome song and dance.

On entering the village the 45 families, 85 people in all, made us jump and chant with them while the guide took endless photos with our cameras. It was quite funny couldn't help laughing.

Cermonies over we were invited to step into one of the houses or rather huts. These huts are made of cows' dung and branches and generally took two weeks to build. A narrow opening led into a tiny unique room in which the whole family lived. The room which was barely high enough for a 5.5 foot person to stand in. It contained 2 'beds' in either corner. These were made of stretched cow skin. The guide explained that the children would sleep with the parents till a certain age afterwhich they would leave the house to start up a new life. A fire was lit in-between the two beds which served to warm the hut as well as cooking. The Maasai ate and drank cow's milk, meat and blood.

Out of the hut we were made to choose some hand-made jewellry from the open-market in the centre of the village. The locals hassled the guide who negotiated prices on our behalf. Well, kind of!

We then visited the village school; a one-room building made out of branches and straw. We could hear tiny voices chant as we came close to it. Inside the teacher directed the little kids with her stick pointing at a broken blackboard displaying Swahili and Maasai words. They sat on wooden benches and none of them had any desk, pens or copybooks. Our guide explained that each village had it's own school which taught children till the age of seven years. After that, if the family afforded, they'd go to public schools in one of the towns around Arusha.

And so we left the Maasai to their staple life and drove onwards to the Sergenti National Park. There are no boundaries which enclose this massive park and the only way to tell that you got there is a large monument of round rocks, known as 'kopje' and a signpost across two trees. It took us another half an hour of non-stop driving in the dust to get to the park's main headquarters. Once there Luther sorted out our camping permits and settled the park fees.

The Serengeti is a vast space of mainly dry land with accacia trees adorning it, other than wildlife, of course. We came across loads of gazelles, wildebeest, zebras. Met the odd ostriches here and there and even a lioness or two.
It was sunset when we got to Ikoma bush camp that evening. Having had a good dinner we headed off to our sleeping beds only to wake up at about 5am the next morning. According to Luther it's the best time of the day to watch game grazing and possibly hunt prey.
But all we saw were loads of African buffaloes grazing away in the early morning mist.

That night only a wildebeest paid our camp a visit. While I slept like a log poor George couldn't shut an eyelid wondering what beast was pacing up and down our campsite. The park rangers assured us they were wildebeest as they had spotted them over the past few days however, they wouldn't be staying for long given migration season.

Lobo, the place we stopped to have our packed breakfast turned out to be more interesting as we were surrounded by mingus and hyrax nibbling at our crumbs.

Just when we got back into our game-viewing for the day our jeep decided not to start up again, right beside a family of lions! For obvious saftey reasons, no one, NO ONE was allowed out of the cars at any point in the Serengeti with the exception of certain areas which were campsites and a few hippo pools.
Luther had to call for one of the nearby drivers to bump into our jeep to kick start it up. We had to remind him not to turn the engine off everytime we slowed to observe some game. Around lunch time he decided to head back to the camp and call a mechanic thus ending our day short. We lay beneath the eating open-air tent that afternoon bored having nothing to do. Failing to having it fixed, Luther arranged for us to have a walking safari, insteaed. Interesting, but the thought of walking out there in the open wild (not that we weren't already!) was a bit daunting. Anyways, couldn't miss on that opportunity :) The two park rangers led the way, armed with none other than a one-foot dagger at the waist. Great, it felt kind of safe.

Walking in the wild felt like live bait ready to be picked up for some appetising dinner. Apart from that our park rangers made quite an interesting, educational and cultural tour out of it. We learnt more about the various types of accacia, some of which was elephant and giraffe's favourite food. Other long thorny type ones is used by the Maasai to pierce their earlobes with. We also came across a 2-holed nest, batlike foxes, aleo vera plants (yes, growing out there in the wild!!) and last but not least a carcass of a wildebeest. The latter was only a few days old, according to one of our guides. We could not help but just stare at the skin and bones sculpture infront of us. It was almost as if it was dead for ages. It must have been hunted down by a cheetah, eaten by hyenas, then left to be finished off (to the marrow) by vultures, continued our life guard in factual tone.

Back at the camp, new arrivals joined us for the night. The couple and the guy accompaning them definitely made good company that evening. At least we weren't all alone in that bush campsite. I ended up having quite an intensive philosphical and psychological conversation about all-sorts with Rene, a Canadian who loved safaris and worked as a photographer with the NGO. He had recently spend some time in the prison camps in North Uganda, which I thought was very gutsy.

Next day we pushed the jeep to get it started. Having failed we had to yell, wave, shout, and Luther even turned his shirt into an SOS flag to attract attention to us. Finally, a jeep of locals stopped and two guys helped us start the jeep again.

That day turned out to be an all-cats day. We even had close, very close encounter with a lovely lion couple; the male flirting with his mistress while she calmly disregarded him. Oh, I was praying the jeep's engine wouldn't die on us right in the middle of these two. Fortunately, it did not, so we had had a great viewing day in the end.

As if the half-dead engine wasn't enough we had two punctures. Well, luckily they occurred out of the Serengeti while we were on our way back. Our last sighting was that of the Oldupai Gorge, the birthplace of our ancestors. I must say the view is very impressive and definitely makes you think how we came to being.

Well, hope you enjoyed the safari too!!

ta
nicky
X X

a typical day in Africa(not quite!!)

2007-08-25T18:37:00.000+01:00

Jumbo to all again,

Now that I'm back in the Uk I can't help reminisce of my days in Africa. I must say I went through all sorts from high to lows literally, metaphorically and emotionally. However, over all I can't help but smile to myself when I think about it.

During my voluntary month there was nothing like a boring, uneventful day. I lived with about 8 other volunteers (I say about cause it wasn't always the same people). It was mainly women, with the exception of 2 guys throughout my stay. I think volunteering especially with kids seems to be synonymus with women, anyway. Other than us, there were 3 other local females who helped in the house as well as lived with us, upstairs. They cleaned and cooked for us. Then there were the men of the house; Corneille - Arts in Tanzania Manager for Arusha - and his right hand man, Patrick. Corneille was seldom around, always out and about visiting project sites. But Patrick was our translator, chaperon, guardian, project facilitor...the lot! Then there were at least about three Maasai men who occupied an open-door garage and spent their time playing drafts in the garden. Their mission was to guard the house, btw! Oh, then there were two puppies who just couldn't have enough of messing up the garden.

Life at the house was just like Big Brother live! And like Big Brother I'll give you the highlights of days of our lives :)

One day I woke up, dressed and was about to wear my shoes when my big toe hit something really hard. Ouch! Must be a stone. As I was about to look into my shoe, there jumped the biggest black toad I'd ever seen ...oh yuck! I backed away and screamed my lungs out causing all sleepy heads to wake up in a second and come to my rescue. In between catching it and throwing it out, and looking at it in awe, Lisa just dashed for her camera and started to take photos, while I was still freaking out... 'get it out! get it out!!'

Apart from this minor incident, we had other quite more serious ones, unfortunately. One night the electricity went out when Regina and Lema were coming down the stairs. Regina lost her balance and flew over the remaining banisterless stairs. Luckily enough she only twisted her ankle.

On a another note...one day Jenny and Sally came back with a little boy, who they found all alone at his parent's house. His mum had been dead for about two weeks while his dad who's an alchoholic, was found drunk somewhere days later. The little boy had not eaten for days. The girls practically adopted him; bathed, fed and clothed him, took him to hospital for check-ups and even found him a place in an orphanage leaving him with a stock of food to last him a whole month.

The opening of Joanna's school was all celebrations. We were also invited for a Mass service one Sunday. In the photo; me wearing a traditional kanga (wrapover skirt) infront of our house. After an hour and a half crammed in the back seat of a taxi we finally found the little wooden chapel. Mass service that Sunday was beyond our belief. I later described it as a roller-coaster ride of emotions which, by the way, lasted for four hours. The congregation started by shouting their prayers out so loud and so desperately almost as if it were Judgement day. This was then followed by a healing cermony with lots of weeping and crying. We couldn't help tears trinkle down our faces. Suddenly, all this sadness was elevated by songs of praise and joy, which turned into dance and clapping. We soon joined in the party celebration. Our spirits were dampened once again however, by a two hour homile! Oh, I couldn't help thinking about my bladder which was about to burst !!!!

One day or well, on quite a few days actually, I think it was about five, we were hit by a mild earthquake. I remember being shaken in my bunk bed in the middle of the night. The worst one being one late afternoon when most of us were relaxing in the sitting room. We felt ourselves being shaken. It was a strange sensation. No one said anything. I looked out of the window to see the stone column holding the porch swing rapidly to and fro. I was spellbound. None of us moved. Then Patrick rushed in yelling at us to get out. So we did. The next day the local news announced a tremor of 6 on the rector scale just a few hundred kilometres away from Arusha. Well, at least there were no casualties or catastrophies in nor out of the house!

Apart from all tragedies we did have typical days which were out of our ordinary lives.

On our way to work......

Everyday we walked and got a daladala to work. We walked along the dusty, bumpy, tiny streets and on the way saw all sorts; makeshift shops which looked more like huts brimful of stuff from fruit to topup voucher cards, a local cinema made of dung, soil and branches, cement-built rooms which served as houses and shops, hens pecking away at rubbish and whatever they found at the sides of the streets, children rushing to us and yelling 'muzungu' or "'goomonin' 'ow you?", mums carrying their babies in kangas across their backs and women grilling corn-on-the-hob over small charcoal stoves to sell them to passers-by...eh, like Patrick & I! :)

In the main roads every daladala that passed by would hoot its horn at us. There was no such thing as tickets. You would just clumber into the little mini-van, which would be choke-a-block with people most of the times, find a tiny seat or just stand up and crank your neck all the way, until you recognise where you want to stop and yell "shusha"! In the photos; volunteers waiting for a daladala and me crammed in one!!!

After work.....

The shortcut back to the house wound through grazing fields. So, we walked amongst cows and goats, or should I say hopped our way through as we tried to avoid all the dung then jumped over two little streams to get to the other side too! Once Laura also assisted the birth of a goat, right in the middle of the field. Oh, so cute!!! When the weather was nice and clear we did get a view of Mount Meru though :)

Back at the house, until tea was ready we would laze about in the sun on the roof terrace, play drafts and chat with our Maasai guards or washed our clothes in the garden. Oh, how I missed the bloody automatic washing mashine!!! Our clothes were literally soiled with dirt. Every time I did my laborious hand-washing, I had to change the water at least 3 times before it turned cafelatte from chocolate brown. Anyways, once done we would hang then on a line in the garden or against the wall as Patrick did with his socks!!!

A cold shower was our aperitif afterwhich we gulfed tea. This generally consisted of plain rice with a veggie cassarole of carrots, peas and beans, fried bananas & chicken and fruit salad topped with raw carrots, cuccumber and tomatoes, to finish. Yummy!

Like all good school children we went to bed at about 8.30. I think it was a combination of being tired, waking up early next morning and nothing to watch on TV, unless someone would have bought a pirated DVD. Anyways, I would climb onto my top bunk bed, secure the mosquito net around the edges of my 5inch high foam mattress, find a comfy spot over the stiff wooden boards and drift into dreamland.

At times we went out for a drink. We also danced to a live African band at a popular restaurant / open-air club called Via Via which was in the centre of Arusha. Oh, that was fun and surely made us human again for a while. Oh yes, let's party people!!!

more pics.... Mama Sada cooking ugali (stiff poridge

Original Maasai shoes - sandals made out of car tyres, cool!!! The trench dug for the toilet drain by one of the tombstones within the new school's garden. Story behind this pic; one day I was out in the garden sitting on the adjacent tomb together with the two Mamas. One of workers was digging this very trench at the time. Suddenly, I felt sick with the dreadful stench that filled the air. I wondered what it was. It then occured to me that it could have been the fumes of the dead buried there being released from all the digging!!!

oh what fun!! :)

watch out....next time I'll take you to the animals' kingdom !

A tearful farewell

2007-08-11T13:09:00.000+01:00

Jumbo!
Monday morning I took a detour on my way to Wema Centre and headed to Moses' office. He wasn't surprised to see me at the same time, I think he resented that hourly visit. But hey, there was I due to no fault of mine! He was in distress not having managed to get any money from his friends, thus his failure to get the remaining cement bag and staying away from the ever-complaining and threatening (I later learnt) workers. I showed him the receipts of my latest expenditure and he wrote me another receipt, so that I now had the house until February 2008. I didn't want to leave it at that and asked him what were his future intentions, re the school project? Especially now that I wasn't going to be around to save the day or days again?!?! He told me about a proposal he submitted to the Arusha Secondary school with the intention to get a loan of TZS100,000 which he'll spend on the new school. What guarantee is there that he'd be given the money? I asked. Well, the chances are good, he replied especially, cause the School believed in his new Community organisation. Well, I hope so. At that point, I remembered that Corneille, our Art in Tanzania project manager had recently been recognised as a public non-profit organisation by the (Arusha) Ministry of Education. So, as I was telling Moses, perhaps he needs to get in touch and create good relations with and through Corneille to substantiate the proposal. Having advised Corneille too, I hoped things would work out in the end.

I left his office leaving him stunned when I told him that that was my last day in Tanzania. He thought I was there for another few days and couldn't stop praising me for having done so much in very little time and that he felt he should give a show of appreciation. No worries I replied, I did what I could and well, thanks to you we found a good house at a very reasonable price. Which was true.

Next thing I was at WEMA, blowing my lungs out on balloons which Jenny (one of the volunteers back at the house) had generously given me. I was lucky to find 2 other volunteers from the Arusha Project and the Hapi (the school helper) to split that dizzy exercise! I must say I created mayhem with those balloons. The children just went nuts; yelling, screaming, begging for more and more of those multi-coloured bubbles. At one point one burst and the kids went dead quiet for a minute. They seemed to have been shocked by the noise. However, for the next hour or so they just shrieked and cheered everytime they heard one pop. Oh, it was so sweet to see them all smiles and playing about. It was fun taking pictures and them handing me bits of coloured rubber from the ones that burst.

It was getting a bit late so I decided to call it a day and go to town for the last important errands. But Mama Asteria had other plans in mind. I saw her making little balls out of a huge dough in the outside kitchenette. I asked what that was as she replied, "Confectionery, for the function." Ok, so we're having a little function. To which she smiled and grunted. It was obvious it was in my honour, being my last day. How sweet! thank you, can I help? I then spent the next half hour rolling tiny balls and she frying them so we made 'andasi', kind of baby doughnuts. We made loads of them for the children to enjoy, of course. In the meantime, Hapi stirred instant orange powder sachets in a big pale to create the drink.
When I went back downstairs in the yard, I found four chairs and a coffee table with cloth and plastic flowers laid out. Wow! this is getting quite something. ... Us volunteers and Hapi helped to distribute the doughnuts and drinks to the children who were all seated down on the ground. Next Mama Asteria called for everyone's attention. Then I started to get small butterflies in my stomach!!! She asked me, as the guest of honour to sit on the middle chair. The next minute the children were singing a typical song of praise in Swahili, this time adding in some words and phrases around the new 'Nicoletti Schule'! Then, Gifti, an albino boy sang his favourite tune...karibu karibu... ohhh...
Now we have a presentation, announced Mama Asteria. And from the back of the tiny crowd she took out the most wonderful kanga I'd ever seen! She gave it to the kids, who hand it over to me over the top of their heads, handing it from one to another. I was taken aback. I felt my heart melt into my shoes. Then she passed on an envelope which contained typical African ornaments and jewellery, including, an 'I love you' (!) card. Her and Sada draped me with the kanga and asked me to sit and listen to a letter the teacher had written on behalf of 'one of my students'.

My lips were already trembling by that time and my eyes watering but the letter, read by the teacher herself just opened the dam!!! Sweet words of gratitude and praise and 'continuous support', (which couldn't be missed out, of course) were uttered. I felt so honoured. I never thought or least expected all of this. Gosh, I wanted to run and hide, it was so much. My heart, or well, what was left of it wanted to crumble. The children each came to kiss and hug me in turn. Oh, how I wish the could see their new school. They obviously knew about it but I so wanted them to be there just then. Next a parent gave a short thankyou speech on behalf of the parents who were assisting from the corner of the yard. Oh, hugged everybody and cried my eyes out.

Celebration over, I dashed to town. It was me with my business hat on again the next minute. I had to make copies of receipts and papers for the Doc and myself and most importantly get the remaining TZS70,000 owing the fundi. I couldn't feel I could trust Moses in settling his debt with them and none the less have them shove off to some other work without having completed the school in my absence.

I met Joanna (another volunteer) and walked to the house were I found Musa and his workmen at work being supervised by the Mamas. I gave Jo a quick tour and took some last photos. Then I grabbed Doc at one side and gave her the cash. I told her to keep TZS10,000 for herself as I Sada had told me she had to allure the fundi to come to work that day the night before by paying them another part. I told her to give them the remaining balance only once they finish the work and in case Moses never pays them. She pocketed the money in her bra and with tears in her eyes nodded and said 'ok.' Split second latter, Moses greeted us in the pom pious manner he liked to display when in tie & jacket! He held a certificate in his hand. And as promised, he said, here it it! Oh yes, if only he could keep other promises I thought, I'd be much happier. But hey, we took pictures of course although Doc didn't want him in any of the photos.

We went outside and took more photos. I then said bye to Musa and the other workers, while the former was in another heated discussion with Moses. That was hard, trying to leave in the midst of that. I didn't butt in this time or say anything. Many reasons; as I wanted Moses to feel more of that pressure coming from the fundi whose trust he hadn't yet won, I was on my way out and I had played my last hidden hand by giving the money to Doc. So there, my job was done and over.

I hate goodbyes. I generally go through them in a very quick rushed manner to avoid the pain. People think I'm rough too at that but it's cause I can't handle them generally and so I do it quick'n'easy. I knew what could happen with the Mamas. They were just like my two big sisters. We obviously couldn't help not showing it and the three of us crying and hugging each other made quite a scene especially tough girls as we were. I'm glad Jo was with me that day. It would have been harder going through that all alone.

Later that evening, I got a call from Moses. He happily announced that he got TZS30,000 which he already gave to the fundi who promised to get the work at the house all done within 2 days. WOW!!! that just ended my last day :)

I still have my fingers crossed (yep, can't help it!!) that things are getting along ok back at my new school. It's going to be difficult to stay in touch with them however, even if it'll be just through our banks, as in transferring the donated money, I would be happy. Oh, before I forget. The new school's name is actually named after me. I know...it's so flattering. The Mamas insisted it to be called 'WEMA Centre Nicolette's School'! So, I can proudly say I'm the founder of a school in Tanzania :) Most of all, I'm even more proud to say that not only have I climbed to the roof of Africa but I've also given one to its people.

Cheers
Nicky
X X XX X

....next.... off to Zanzibar for a well-earned paradise holiday!!!!!

Another BIG shopping spree!!!

2007-08-11T12:28:00.000+01:00

Jumbo!

Sunday morning saw me lousily reading a book on a tombstone in the garden of the house. Gosh, I was still sleepy and so wanted to linger in bed a little more, especially after a late night out the previous day .....time was slowly ticking away and yet no one was around. I called Sada at 9.30am then suddenly, everyone was there. Shoot! I keep forgetting, Africa time!!!
Anyways, we estimated the number of required ceiling boards, nails, wooden beams etc etc ... Mmmm getting pretty good in construction works, I thought .... then headed to Boharti - a little village between Sanawari and Arusha town. Paul (our neighbour) had told us about a good hardware store in those whereabouts. And glad he did cause we got better prices without the need to bargain to much.

Musa found a 'mago' - a one-man drawn cart on wheels - and loaded it with the new wooden beams we got from an open-air warehouse and the stuff we bought from the hardware store. At least I managed to stick to a TZS100,000 budget and not only got the necessities but managed another three cement bags, despite Moses' mystic extra one which never seemed to become real!!! By that time, I was overly done with him. I was too busy getting things done to find the nerve to reproach him again except to fetch him the next day for another receipt to cover off yet another month's worth of rent.

Work was still heavily underway, and there was no way that I'd see those kids attending their new school the next day or even over the coming couple of weeks. Oh, if only Moses had had started a week and a half before as agreed and planned......but hey, projects are not one-man (or should I say woman!) based, unfortunately!!!

I couldn't believe I was about to leave, I mean not like that, bang in the middle of it all. It wasn't me to 'abandon' a project like that. But I was confined to dates, planes, and other places on my African itinerary. I still felt I should move on despite the Mama's daring questions of should I be staying? Anyways, I won't be here to see the children's first-day-at-school glee but I still wanted them to party on my last day with them :)
That Sunday afternoon, Sada invited me over to her place for lunch. And what a lunch!! I told her I was vegetarian to avoid eating any meat and she went and bought a whole chicken in my occasion! Oh, so sweet I thought. Yep, until I say the beak and the claws being stirred in with all the other parts in a massive pot!!!! I had had to explain that chicken being poultry, is also meat which I do not eat. Ok, I know I lied but my stomach churned and I forgot how hungry I was at that sight. Funnily enough, Mama Asteria still put a drumstick in my plate and when she saw I didn't touch it she replaced it with a big piece of liver, the end part which looked like the upper part of the inner beak!!! ok, maybe I was imagining things by that point but still managed to eat the cooking bananas, chopped tomatoes with cucumber and rice. After our late lunch, Sada cooked some ugali (stiff porridge, see photo above) with vegetables (!) for the fundi to take back to the house. I headed off home quite tired and looking forward to a quiet Sunday afternoon with tea & biscuits, oh no, chocolate!!!

...next....a tearful farewell !
luv
Nik
X X X
PS: re photo; everyone is welcome in Sada's little house including a kitten and a goose!! Here you see them playing 'cat & dog' over Mama's foot :) !!!

Our next door neighbour

2007-08-11T11:42:00.000+01:00

Hi again...
I know, I know it's been a while. But I've been travelling and well, going around places. I spent a few relaxing days in Zanzibar and now in Cape Town! Mmmm, just got some time and bad weather to keep me glued to a seat in an internet cafe and continue my school story.....

One day I caught sight of a man in his late forties walking about the house. Wasn't sure who he was and guessed him to be another curious onlooker. But Sada quickly explained to me that he was Paul, our (well, the school's) next door neighbour. She further explained that he had kindly offered us to source electricity from his house' main supply and is so doing he saved us TZS200,000. I was flattered. Barosi (the electrician) already knew about this and was busily working out connections and things. I obviously, endeavoured to do my best in being courteous and grateful.

On another day, he came around to check up on things at about five in the afternoon. I asked him whether he could tell Musa that I wanted to leave for home and whether he could call it a day. He expression changed to a worried one and asked me whether I had been there all day. I nodded. Well, miss, he said I hope you had some lunch. Oh yes, of course, I replied. He spoke to Musa then in his most gentle and but firm way told me not to worry and to go home. He told me we can trust Musa to work till later and take the key. In any case, I know where he lives, he assured me. So, I left for home appeased.

Paul is an accountant and unfortunately his wife is an AiDS victim, deceased only about four months ago. I would describe him as a gentle giant with his soft-spoken voice, gentleman manners and eloquent English. I can't emphasise his generous nature enough. He wanted to give me a gift, a new-neighbour type of gift; a dozen eggs from his own pen! Now, how's sweet was that. I felt obliged to reciprocate and in any case had decided to buy something nice as in a thank-you type of gift. But what? I had two days to think and buy something as he told me he'd give me the eggs on Saturday. Great! what? what? what? Then Moses enlightened me (for once !!!). He told me that he had two boys, aged about nine and fourteen and it wouldn't be a bad idea to give them something like books to further their education - a subject matter very attuned to such a parent.
Saturday morning I dashed to town, picked up two books; a picture dictionary and an encyclopedia and also tucked in a rugby ball, an Australian volunteering couple had given me. Pleased with that went back to the house to meet the Mamas. Paul invited us in for some sodas. Sada (and later I) were chaffed when he told us he was also willing to lend us his water, as in let us connect to his main supply, once again. Oh yes, both mamas were pleasantly relieved!!! He gave me the eggs, of course, which I later gave to the Doc to cook them for the children on Monday during school. When I then gave him the books he never expected them and told me that whatever he'd done was out of kindness. Still, he couldn't resist flipping through the pages. I wished his boys were there so I'd see them and their faces especially seeing that white ball.

Back at the house work was progressing at a slow but steady pace. The two men setting up the ceiling were running out of boards. At the same time I noticed that cement was running low again, even though Musa didn't comment a thing. I can't afford this work to stop especially with 2 days before my 'project days' are over, I thought. Seems like we're heading for another shopping spree, I told Sada. She had sensed the need too and so we agreed to meet at nine on Sunday morning for yet another shopping spree.

So, off to get the 'mago' ready again...............
ta
Nic
X X X