The Roaming Traveller

Broken River

2011-09-23T16:56:00.000+12:00

One of our aims for this ski season was to explore some different slopes and not just stick to Mt Hutt. We therefore decided that Broken River was the club field for us and booked a 2 day lift pass an accommodation on the mountain. Saturday dawned bright and sunny with the alarm going early to allow to collect our skis from Methven and then proceed towards Arthurs Pass. Turning off the main road we were expecting a narrow but easy 12km to the car park and so breezed past the sign suggesting the road was unsuitable for camper vans,, our decision to go to BR made primarily based on where we thought we would be able to get to in Gorden. The first 11km were relatively OK (ignoring some of Amy's comments on the steeper, icier bits) and then we came across a sign saying chains must be fitted to all 2WD vehicles. Someone was chaining up the road grader and thought we would be fine so the chains were fitted and we attacked the final 1000m stretch that was made up of entirely of hairpin bends navigating a near vertical gradient. I won't pretend to being completely relaxed as we made the ascent, our chained up drive wheels spinning in a desperate bid for traction, but we made the car park in one piece without the engine overheating or sliding off the road.

The next excitement was a trip up to the ticket office in a glorified enclosed coal hopper on tracks that was only converted to carry people a year ago. It felt a little like being in a Bond film and half expected Jaws to jump on the roof and start biting through the tracks. We collected our tickets and nutcracker for the rope tows, dumped our bags at the lodge and walked the 10 minutes uphill to reach the first lift. A short refresher from a member of ski patrol made sure there were no accidents on the first ride up and we made the day lodge in 1 piece. The great thing about being a club field is that the atmosphere is very friendly and the day lodge had a fully equipped kitchen and BBQ. It was a great place to sit and let the sun get a little higher to warm the slopes which were seriously icy after a clear night. As it was only 1 slope really softened up but I still enjoyed the day immensely. Amy found the going a little harder, especially after an exhausting week at work (it is calving season after all), and so headed back down to the lodge early for a little snooze.

That evening in the lodge was good fun with plenty of regulars staying to provide some lively conversation to go with the excellent 3 course meal we were served. The heating made sure we were warmer up the mountain than we had been at home for some time with a bottle of wine providing extra perceived warmth for good measure. Soon enough Sunday was upon us and we again hit the slopes, a little more refreshed this time. The club was hosting a boarder-cross competition and it was fun to watch the competitors hearling themselves over the jumps while trying to avoid being wiped out by their opposition. the day was another beauty and this time more of the slopes softened up nicely to allow a few more routes to be tried. Both our legs started to feel lead-filled come mid afternoon which meant we were not too late home after a pleasant drive back to Ashvegus. It was definitely a great first overnight club experience and hopefully there will be more to come

A First Seasons Fish

2011-08-24T22:04:00.007+12:00

With the start of the season soon upon us (well, a month away but I'm getting excited already!) I thought it would be good to review the fishing year just gone, my first as a fly-fisherman, or any form of fisherman in fact. OK, I had a rod of some sort when I was very little and did actually catch one fish but that was many moons ago and no memory lingered of the actual how to go about catching fish. Embracing the outdoor lifestyle as soon as we arrived in NZ, I thought where better to learn a new skill and, having thought about taking up the sport in the past, where better place to learn and what better excuse needed than the possibility of visiting some spectacular scenery and hopefully hook a few trout in the process?

We all have to start somewhere and as I did not have the luxury of a network of friends who already fished to show me the nuts and bolts, I signed up for a weekend course to learn the basics of theory and fly casting. Not put off and with the words of advice to use the new skills within the month echoing in my head the necessary kit was procured and I hit the park next door and the Ashburton River to practice my casting over the winter in anticipation of October 1^st.

Now it is all very well to be able to vaguely cast a fly, actually hitting the river is a different prospect entirely. Thankfully I was very kindly invited to join a couple of guys on opening day (who I also joined on several subsequent trips), who even gave me first cast of the day to a fish sighted little over 50m from the car. Getting ready to make that cast was near on terrifying, not wanting to make a complete hash of things and spook the fish or knot my line on the first attempt. It was with relief then that with trembling hands, my bead head nymph gently plopped into the water, although somewhat wide of the target. Several casts later, struggling to cast across the wind, it was time to move on as our quarry gently finned away. There was not long to wait for another opportunity as my turn came round again and the indicator obligingly plunged from view. Fish on After a brief battle a 2 1/4lb brown came to the net, result! Things were to get even better when towards the end of the day a 6 ½ lb hen was landed. I certainly can’t complain if a little beginners luck helped provide such a successful first outing, with more than a little help from some more experienced companions.

It would be fair to say that it was me who had become hooked and looking back at my record of the whole season managed to squeeze in plenty of afternoons, evenings and full days on the water in locations as varied as South Canterbury, the MacKenzie region and the west coast. Not all were successful but it was seldom longer than a few trips before a fish or two were fooled, generally after spooking plenty of others in the process. That has been the biggest challenge, spotting the fish in the first place as opposed to fishing the water blind. It is easy enough to spot a fish after it has spotted you and is making its escape. A little harder is getting there first and not disturbing a fish while it is happily feeding away. I imagine it is this hard earned skill that really makes the exceptional trout stalkers stand out from the crowd and can only hope that things slowly get a little easier. Practice makes perfect and all that!

Inevitably there were plenty of first along the way: first fish on a fly, first on a dry and first on a self-tie. First in the dark, first brown, first rainbow. Just need to get my first from a lake, first on a wet, first on a terrestrial…..there is plenty to aim for (first trophy maybe?!).

There are also several highlights and special moments to go with those first two fish. Most of my fishing has been done solo so I have to rely on memory to go with only the few photos taken. A weekend trip to famous waters where I arrived in time for a prolific rise on nightfall and claimed a lovely 4lb’er. The subsequent day in torrential rain but not another soul on the water where plenty were seen, most spooked but a couple of good ones brought to the net and released. The challenge of catching dinner for the group on the Tekapo and succeeding with a tasty 4lb rainbow. The only fish taken for the pot, coming from a well stocked river should not be a problem. Heading to the backcountry after generously being given permission to access over private land and spending a few days in idyllic wilderness with only the sandfies for company, of which there were many and I was the one on the menu.

The side-hobby that has developed as a result of this new fishing obsession is fly tying. There are plenty of worse ways to spend the evening that sat in front of a vice, producing the vital ingredient to tempt the fish. While it won’t really save much compared to buying those flies tied by the experts, there is undoubtedly something satisfying about catching a fish with one of your own concoctions and while there are exceptions to every rule, the general consensus is that presentation is more important than form anyway, which may explain why I have snagged a few with my meagre offerings. I’ve been sticking mostly to nymphs so far but will have to think about trying a few more dry fly creations.

So what are the stats so far? Well, I did not record every evening trip to the river for an hour or so (of which most were blanks with nothing caught), but for those days I did record I made 28 trips in total ranging from an hour to full days and caught 43 fish at an average of a little under 2 lb. Ignoring the tiny fish that bravely intercepted nymphs that would have doubled their weight if eaten, the fish numbers fall to 27 at an average of 2.8 lb. No monsters and no days where every cast resulted in a hook up but a little effort goes a long way and there were plenty of rewards along the way to keep interest up. I can’t wait for next season to start so I can continue this new past time, acquire even more “essential” gear (trademe has already privided a new vest!) and maybe catch a few more trout in the process. I hope to tackle a few different areas close to home as well as returning to several familiar locations for another go at fooling the local population. Who knows what will happen but I’m sure it will be fun!

A New Abode and Winter Hits

2011-08-14T19:17:00.012+12:00

After looking around approximately half of the houses in the Ashburton district, 95% which were major renovation projects with excessive price tags or just plain old dumps, we settled (or more accurately Amy fell in love) on a 4 year old townhouse. It was a little over budget but despite my best efforts to swing the favour towards an older house on a section (plot) twice the size double glazing won out in the end! And so it was that after a little to-ing and fro-ing a price was agreed, I had a little lie down in a darkened room, and we signed on the dotted line. All that was left to do was arrange insurance, sort out the mortgage, get a builders report (there have been some earthquakes after all!) and check all the paperwork was kosher. Everything is now falling into place and all being well we move out of our small, cold unit on 16th September...exciting!

In between house hunting, there was still plenty of time for some fun as we returned to Little Mount Peal on Sunday morning. The forcast was for snow flurries early on that would clear by lunch. This was spot on and the sun came out as we cleared the bush line however it became clear as we neared the top that although the summit did not appear snow covered, the track had turned into an ice flow. The last 50m of the 1000m climb was slightly hair raising to say the least but we soon made the comfort of the shelter to have a reviving brew! Slightly more relaxing was another jaunt up Mount Alford, a mere 600m or so. We walked up a little later in the day and were treated to some fantastic light as the sun lowered and we looked towards Mount Hutt.

The other big news is that snow has arrived in Ashburton. We missed out a month ago on the snow that blanketed the whole of the south island but this time the whole of NZ has been affected and after yesterdays dusting we woke up to half a foot of the white stuff. As this is the first snow in town for 6 years, which the locals still speak of in whispers due to all the power cuts that resulted, Amy and I had a little walk to the river before work to enjoy the spectacle and take a few pics. Things come to a standstill here just as much as back in the UK. Yesterday half of town was closed and school canceled so I imagine we may be the only ones "working" in the whole of Ashburton. The major benefit is the fact that the ski fields may actually have a few pistes open after what has been a terrible start to the season. I went up to Mt Hutt for the day with friends and while the main pistes were open due to the snow makers working overtime, off-piste there was not even a sprinkling to cover the rocky terrain.

As it has taken me so long to post this, we did make it up the hill and I can attest that it was the best days skiing we have had to date at My Hutt although we took things a little more easy that some of the bigger days last year, managing only 12 runs and 5589 vertical metres. The sun was out, the powder was there, all the lifts were working and the potato wedges were tasty! All skied out, we went up to the Ashburton lakes for a sandwich and short walk on the Sunday. We had intended to walk up the appropriately named Mt Sunday but dared go no further than Lake Clearwater as the roads were getting more and more covered in deep snow.

Homeward Bound

2011-07-24T12:25:00.021+12:00

Rather unbelievably it has already been 3 whole weeks since we arrived back in NZ after a month spent back in Blighty. We flew up to Auckland for the weekend, our onward flight booked for Monday morning, to spend some time in the largest city in NZ, housing around 1/4 of the entire population. Our hotel was right in the heart of the CBD, surrounded by the skyscrapers which accommodate the bankers and big businesses. Down at street level there were plenty of tourist shops alongside the high-brow clothing boutiques of which we had little interest in. With Amy still lame from her foot squashing incident, we took things a little easy and after a brief stroll headed back for a read and sit down. The Crusaders of Canterbury were then playing the local Blues in the Super 15 Rugby and so we headed down to a bar to find a big screen and watched a thrilling match that ended with our team in front, much to the disappointment of most of those around us. With a whole day to fill on Sunday we caught the ferry for the brief splash across the harbour to Devonport, a small village made up predominantly of cafes and art shops. It is also where one of the many old volcanoes can be found. It has long since been eroded down to little more than a stub but does still afford some elevation to provide a spectacular view across the water to the city centre. It may be winter but with the sun out and sky blue we were in luck. A little nap was in order when we were back in our room before it was time to head up the Sky Tower for dinner in the revolving restaurant. It may have been pricey but the view was superb and food tasty so worth the booking on our last night in country.

Monday morning dawned with the alarm going early only for us to turn on the news and hear how the ash cloud from a volcano in Chile was disrupting flights. Quantus had canceled all flights in and out of the city though Air NZ were still flying as normal, electing to fly lower to avoid the ash. As for Royal Brunei we would just have to find out when we got to the airport. thankfully the check in was open and we soon made it through the formalities to begin the long journey home. Around 30 hours later, a 2 hour break in both Brunei and Dubai, we arrived in London town (after a mere 2 year absence) relatively fresh having set our watches to London time on setting foot on the plane. We then hot footed it to Paddington to meet Amelie and collect a key to the flat where we were being put up for the next few days, Russ being in France on a work trip. Their flat is within touching distance of the South Bank and so after a cup of tea and much needed shower we headed out to stretch our legs making a circuit that took in Tate Modern, the Millennium Bridge and St Pauls while at the same time taking no longer than a leisurely hour. The following three and a half days were spent running through a tight schedule trying to catch up with as many city dwellers as possible while still having fun. It was great, we eat well, drunk lots and relaxed as we entered holiday mode. The first pint of proper English beer was especially excited and got me thinking about home brew once back in NZ. Russ got back Friday and so I stayed in town for an extra couple of days to hear about all the imminent wedding plans and play playstation while Amy headed back to the New Forest and home.

A short 2 hour train journey on Sunday evening took me to Taunton where I was whisked to the Heights by Dad. 5 days were then spent relaxing with remarkably few jobs to do for the impending wedding, apart from trying to put the finishing touches to my speech. A round of golf with Dad did nothing to settle his nerves and my laughing as two successive drives found their way into the Bristol Channel did little to help. Of course the course does suit a left hander better, especially with the wind being so strong, as well as my clubs being more modern! Exmoor was looking fantastic and there is nothing in NZ where we are to compair to the lush fields, ancient villages and narrow, twisting country lanes. Amy traveled up on Thursday and we then headed to Cornwall for the weekend. After a delicious meal with Uncle Rich and Carolyn, we headed to Bude on Saturday, the light dimming and drizzle becoming heavier the closer we got to the coast. Still there were plenty of friends already there to lift the gloom. Special mention though has to go to Tim for sharing his birthday celebrations with our reunion get together along with Jack and Barney who ended up hiring taxi all the way from Exeter! It was dry enough in the evening to fire up the BBQ, though when did rain ever stop the British cooking outdoors!? Sunday was a different story, the sun was out, surf pounding, though I did not end up hiring any kit, rather spending the time playing football and catching up with people who had travelled far and wide for the weekend.

Amy and I headed back to our respective parents and the week soon passed. The bride and groom arrived Wednesday, ushers and Amy Thursday and the final flurry of activity ranging from suit collection, hair cuts, flower arranging and reception decoration meant Saturday was soon upon us. The church in Selworthy must be one of the most attractive in the country, both in terms of building and location, perched on a hillside overlooking Dunkery Beacon and the start of Exmoor. The sun was out for the big occasion and things could not have gone better. Both Russ and Amelie remembered their lines and no-one appeared out of the blue to give a reason why they could not be married and so it was that after 45 minutes they left the church as husband and wife. The reception was held in the converted Tythe barn in Dunster and after a lovely meal it was time for the speeches. Plenty of people had already commented to me by this stage that it would be hard to beat the speech Russ gave at our wedding a couple of years earlier which did little to settle the nerves. All in all I think mine went down reasonably well though perhaps the Belgium contingent were a little bemused by some of the jokes! The band then ensured the merriment continued long into the night with there being plenty of sore heads the following morning for the big clear up.

The last week of our visit was spent in the New Forest with Amys parents, visiting neighbouring friends and enjoying the end of the holiday. It's amazing how quickly a month passes and we were soon back on a plane to New Zealand (via Dubai and a 12 hour stop over in Brunei). The killer was the 5 hour wait in Aukland for our connectio to Christchurch when all we wanted was to be at home. We eventually arrived at 8:30pm and were back at work the following morning at 8am. The following weeks were then spent house hunting as having decided to stay in Ashburton for a little while longer we were eager to move out of our small, cold unit and into something a little more comfortable.

An Accidental Week and Weekend Getaway

2011-05-31T08:47:00.015+12:00

A weekend on call is supposed to be a time for catching up on chores and hoping that nothing too serious needs doing. It did not start all that well with a dog being run over early Saturday and needing its hip put back in, nothing too serious and the rest of the day was quiet. Amy decided she wanted to stir things up a little on the Sunday though, as on her way to a pre-arranged call thought is would be far more exciting to try a little bit of off road driving. After coming to a stop upside-down in an irrigation ditch (thankfully empty unlike a month earlier) she managed to crawl out and knew the first farmer who passed by. The truck was a complete write-off but thankfully Amy had nothing more serious than a little whiplash, a bruised sternum and an ear bashing about driving too fast on gravel roads! Not content with 1 incident, Amy decided she liked the local hospital so much that on Wednesday arranged for herself to be squashed by a cow, dislocating her big toe and badly bruising the rest of her foot. After 3 hours spent pushing her to various hospital departments we made it home just in tome to wolf down a McDonalds, have a shower and make it to the local production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat just minutes before curtain up. It was a great production and surprisingly professional considering the cast were all amateurs from the local area with the Events Centre being a fantastic venue. Something different for Ashvegus anyway!

With Friday off after the weekend worked we headed down to Oamaru, Amy hobbling around on crutches, where we had a lazy lunch, saw some yellow eyed penguins and stayed with Ben and Becky for dinner and wine. We all then jumped in the truck to get to Dunedin on Saturday morning where we were meeting Jude who had made her way up from Invercargil way. With plenty of gossip and catching up to be done we did not end up more than a few hundred metres from out motel, right by the Octagon in the heart of the city. Apart from simply eating and drinking we did make it to the Speights Brewery for a tour of the building followed by a 30 minute tasting session. Our guide had said that it would be the tastiest medal, their best seller, you would taste due to its freshness and that was certainly the case being cleaner and crisper than the bottled variety or that found in pubs. It certainly started us off nicely before a good meal and some cocktails later.

Come Sunday we were only good for a relatively late breakfast out before heading to the peninsular for a look around in the fabulous sunshine. We ended up again at Sandfly Bay and again saw many seals and sea lions. Little wonder then why we went back! In the right weather the Otago peninsular has to be one of the most attractive areas of coastal landscape, and we were seeing it in the right weather. We polished off a hearty lunch in Portebello before reluctantly heading back north and home. In 2 weeks time we will be on the plane back to the UK for a 4 week visit. We have another on call weekend to negotiate first, hopefully it won't be so eventful!

Weddings, Walks and Weather

2011-05-19T22:16:00.016+12:00

What better event is there to celebrate "Britishness" than a royal wedding? The build up may not have been quite as intense as back in Blighty but everyone at work was going to tune in and so we readily accepted an invite to a wedding party up in Christchurch hosted by Lou and Rog. That's how we found ourselves watching at least 5 hours television coverage of a wedding of people we don't know while dining on fish and chips and bubbles (a good wine match by all accounts!). One or two glasses were drunk by the select batch of expats such that Rog uttered the immortal words "this is just what they need back home, it puts the Great back in Great Britain". What more can be said, we all got swept up by the occasion and had a great night doing so.

The rest of the weekend was spent on a Kiwi institution: the tramping route over Goat Pass. Once a year there is a multisport event, the Coast to Coast, that involves travelling from west to east with the running leg consisting of this 33km stretch. Amy and Lou, who joined us for the 2 day expedition, had considered competing in the event but I think were pleased they decided against it by the time we had finished. The first day was 3.5 hours up the Minga river and the going was pretty easy. We arrived at the superbly placed hut, a hundred yards or so over the pass, just before dark having set off quite late and cooked up a good feed. We find ourselves taking more and more nice food and wine away with us as we learn to take less needless kit and find more room in our packs. Day two was a different affair as we headed down the Deception valley, the route criss-crossing the boulder strewn river. It was pretty steep in places and involved a fair amount of clambering up and down requiring good concentration to be sure not to turn over an ankle or worse. Running the thing would certainly be a challenge!

Another week flew by and we were soon on the road to Hanmer Springs with Ben and Becky, friends from home who are working in Oamaru for a few months to top up their travel funds. We had planned on Mt Cook but the weather conspired against us with snow, rain and gales forecast. Soaking in the hot pools was just the ticket before cracking through a box of wine, debating the pressing socio-economic issues of our time and then hitting the pub to meet Lou and Rog. I'm not sure they knew what hit them but caught up soon enough! Sore heads were put right the following morning with a leisurely bowl of cereal followed by a couple of hours spent peddling furiously around the forest surrounding Hanmer. The tracks were just as fun as our last visit, a mat of fallen leaves protecting us from the worst of the mud while Ben encouraged us to go a little faster than otherwise, thankfully there were no serious spills!

With another planned Cook trip cancelled to bad weather, we ended up in by Christchurch airport tackling the single track running next to the Waimakariri river. We had enjoyed Hanmer so much another few hours on our bikes (again with sore heads) was eagerly anticipated. I think Amy coped a little better than me, she never has been one for hang-overs, and we were soon flying round the steeply banked corners with relative ease if not in complete comfort. On Sunday Amy had been willingly roped in to compete in a duathlon that involved a 2.5km run and 11km cycle all finished off with a 1.25km run. After her success at the longer Lake Hood event the pressure was on and with a time of 42 minutes 3 seconds she came in 2nd in her age group. All this in the pouring rain! Against the odds the skies did clear and Richard and I completed a slightly less energetic 9 holes of golf. I finished ahead for the first time but only by 1 shot having tried to throw away my 4 stroke lead on the final hole.

Easter Tramping

2011-04-25T20:08:00.018+12:00

After 5 days spent on the third island of NZ and the following Saturday spent climbing Avalanche Peak in Arthurs Pass, it was time to spend some time with friends and so a group of us headed off to Tekapo to a hillside batch overlooking the lake. Amy joined us on the Saturday with Charlotte, their bikini milking had been arranged for the Friday and while I had been invited to attend thought it best to steer clear of the boozing that was sure to take place. By all accounts everyone behaved themselves while at the same time ensuring they were completely inebriated! Richard and I took the opportunity to hit the golf course, the highest registered in NZ, and while I was going strong initially, a few poor holes meant I narrowly lost out to Richards wicked slice. Its all good practice for the father vs son grudge match scheduled for a few months time!

Having previously decided that there were plenty of tramps that were not "great walks", an after the less than stellar Rakiura track it is a little surprising that we opted to tramp the Routeburn during the long Easter weekend. At around 32km it is the shortest great walk but the vast majority is spent where we prefer, above the bushline. The weekend before had been spent on call and so with Thursday off as well we hit the road Wednesday night, making it to Lindis Pass where we parked up by an attractive stream. We had arranged to catch a bus from Glenorchy to the trailhead and by 2:30pm we had set off, destination Routeburn Falls Hut. The

first 90 minutes were a delightful meander along a graded gravel track trying not to step on any of the Riflemen, tiny beret green birds, that were avidly feeding on and around the track. These were one of the few birds we had not managed to see on Stewart Island! The final hour involved a steady climb, though still on an easy path, the valley being left behind as the view opened up. When we reached the "hut" we could be forgiven for looking on it as some kind of upmarket hotel, not the tin shacks we have sometimes used. On a raised platform over the edge of a steep drop-off, the views it commanded were spectacular as we enjoyed the last couple of hours of light, also exploring the nearby waterfalls. Once the sun set and the darkness descended lo and behold there was electric lighting to go with the porcelain flush toilets, not a long drop in sight!

Unfortunately the weatherman was proved correct as the following morning dawned grey with the sky full of rain. While we did miss out on the sweeping views of the far away peaks we had read about, there was still a special splendour as we made it over the pass and down the other side. Lunch was taken in another plush hut, on most people spent their second night in, and we then pushed on another 4 hours to reach Howden hut which was actually a smaller and more intimate affair. The fire was welcome and other occupants ensured the evening was just as enjoyable as the day. Day three was another long one having set our minds on reaching Lower Caples hut, most of the way back down the Caples valley which runs just to the south of the Routeburn. Off the gravel track the going was a little slower and the rain relentless as we made the tiring scramble up a track of tree roots and running water to reach yet another saddle before starting the 6 hour descent down the valley. We passed plenty of wet souls making there way up and were pleased we had the worst behind us. The forest was at its best in the rain with the moss plump and verdant alongside the torrent of water that was pouring off the mountain slopes. We were ready to stop by the time we arrived at the hut though there were no spare beds, the Easter rush showing in this very popular area. thankfully a couple of mats were found and after drinking the last of our wine a good nights sleep was not a problem. the final day was an easy 2 hour affair, our return transport arriving on cue to take us back to Gordon who, after a night in Queenstown enjoying civilisation (and a very nice meal for our 2nd wedding anniversary!), took us home without a hitch.

Eight weeks of Action and a Fortnight of Fun - part 2

2011-04-04T18:19:00.017+12:00

Both Amy and I were then only back for a 3 day week before it was time to fly down to Invercargill and make our way over to Stewart Island, just off the south of South Island. Before we left though there was just time to squeeze in a massive charity auction. Amy had mooted the idea of a fund raiser at work with the proceeds going to help the victims of the Christchurch earthquake. The idea was for a slave auction of clinic staff with clients invited. A couple of weeks later and much hard work by Amy and the team, there were over 100 items (including calf food, a helicopter ride, cakes, DVD player...), 2 professional auctioneers had been recruited and local business had been outstanding in their support. The top lot for the night was Amy and Charlotte (our receptionist) auctioning themselves off for milking in bikinis. The top bid for the was a massive $5000 and the total for the night came in around $32000. Outstanding!

We had heard horror stories about the crossing from Bluff to Oban and so were very grateful to find the sea glassy on our arrival at the harbour. The crossing was swift and we were soon checking into Jo and Andys B&B. We had earmarked the first 2 days for relaxation and so booked ourselves on a trip to Ulva Island, a small "predator free" haven in a sheltered bay that has been used for the release and breeding of endagered birds. Our guide did tell us at the start however that over 100 rats had been trapped the previous month and so they appear to be breeding on the island again, a real concern. As far as bird life went we saw plenty including Bell Birds, Robin, Weka, Tomtit, Fantail, Tui, Kereru, Kaka and 3 of the near extinct Saddleback. We were also told plenty about the ferns and trees around us and the 4 hour guided trip was certainly to be recommended. The next day the infamous Stewart Island rain was with us for the morning but, having come prepared, we headed out on a morning walk to explore some of the bush around the only settlement on the island. The afternoon was for reading, sleeping and then watching the Super 15 rugby in the pub.

The following morning we shouldered our packs and set out on the Raikiura track. This is designated as one of the "Great Walks" and so we had already prebooked our 2 huts for the trip. The first day was a gentle walk first along the waterfront road and then along the coastline for 12km to Port William hut. The track was a gravel path for most of the way which allowed less time looking at feet and more time taking in the best the island has to offer. The rugged coastline looks to have weathered many a storm, light drizzle was the worst we experienced, and it must have been hard living for those islanders who tried to make a living a century or so ago primarily from logging. The hut was ferociously warm, the Irish warden having fed the fire for the whole morning, and so after dumping packs we explored the nearby headland for a couple of hours. After bush bashing down to a secluded beach we met up with the northern circuit and briefly experienced the thigh deep mud this 10 day slog is well known for, a little harder than our gravel path! Stewart Island is one of the best places to spot a kiwi in the wild which is why we did not hit the sack at our normal tramping bedtime of 9pm. Around midnight we snuck out and after only 20 minutes a rustle in the bushes focused our attention. The full moon illuminated the scene as sure enough a kiwi emerged and in its curiosity came right up to investigate. It got so close, pecking the ground every now and then, that Amy was worried her exposed toes were on the menu and with a little movement the small bird scuttled back into the bush. Day 2 was another 12km over the hill to North Arm hut through the lush, moss covered forest. the intermittent showers and grey skies made little difference as we were mainly tramping under tree canopy with very little scope for extended views regardless of weather. As the tide went out after arriving at lunchtime we explored the coastline a little, some people collecting mussels before spending another social evening with our fellow trampers. the final day was the same lenght again but a little more interesting as the track has not yet been fully upgraded. the meant we could experience some more of the famed mud before a sampling a pint and pub meal once back in Oban. the afternoon ferry was just a calm as our arrival and we were soon flying back up to Christchurch after a relaxing break. As for the tramp, for us it did not live up to the term "great walk" with both of us agreeing that it is far better to be above the bushline. It was though a good intro to what Stewart island is about, a real untouched wilderness.

Eight weeks of Action and a Fortnight of Fun - part 1

2011-03-22T08:32:00.032+13:00

After a long tramp its nice to relax the following weekend. Amys form of relaxation is slightly different from mine and so the weekend after heading up the Huxley Amy took part in the inaugural Lake Hood race. This consisted of a 24km mountain bike route along the Ashburton river followed by a 6km run around the lake. A few other people we knew were also taking part and Amy just wanted to finish in a respectable time. As it was, 1 hour 30 minutes was quick enough to come in as 3rd female and top in her age bracket. After another weeks work we had a great weekend in the "French" enclave of Akaroa with a few friends, staying in a batch in the centre of town. The weather was stinkingly warm, the hottest of the summer, and so perfect for some frisbee, swimming, drinking and of course some petanque. The weekend was topped of by a meal at The Little Bistro, a fantastic restaurant about which not enough could be said.

Throughout the summer a work team has been playing in the local social touch rugby league, the mighty Vetlife Vipers. Despite 5 of the team never having played before we managed to make the finals after drawing the semi 2-2. There was always a good turn out which meant that we had plenty of rolling subs, it is a surprisingly fast game, and our two Richards ensured we always scored a few tries. We did lose in the final to a much younger and fitter team but we got a mention after for our excellent support of the bar. We kept up that tradition after the last match which unfortunately meant that I could only face getting out of bed at around 4pm the following day, having it off after working the previous weekend. That weekend Amy had organised an end of season get together which involved some paintball followed by a BBQ. Everyone had a great time at paintball with most having a few war wounds (bruises) to show for their efforts and the food afterwards went down a treat. The rugby was not quite over as the following Saturday was the South Island Force Back competition. This is a kicking a catching game involving 4 people on the field at any one time. It was good fun although we were not that good. This did mean though that we were already out of the competition by the time the freezing wind and rain arrived at the showground and so we all took shelter and started on the beers early.

You will have noticed a distinct lack of fishing in this post. It was about time I dusted the fly rod off and got into some trout. I had had a few evenings on the river and caught a few fish but was looking forwards to 5 days on the water in a new part of the countryside, Amy being up in the North Island on a mastitis course. Checking the weather I decided that the west coast was the best place to head, with a couple of well known rivers offering a good supply of reasonable sized fish in great locations. I was not to be disappointed. After spending the night at Klondyke Corner I started fishing about 11am the following day and my 2nd "practice" cast saw the indicator take an obliging dip and a 2lb rainbow quickly landed. Another couple of cast and I was into a big brown. 20 minutes later, having followed him downstream a couple of hundred meters the line went slack as he broke free. Very annoying especially as he was probably the biggest fish of the trip by far. 5 other small rainbows came to the net that day before I headed inland having called ahead for permission to fish through some farmland and stay at their hut. The hut was great, no luxuries but very comfortable and I could drive to the door (though I did nearly get stuck again). The scenery was fantastic though the big fish were elusive on this well fished river. The further into the season the more fisherman the fish have been exposed to and so the more cautious and spooky they are. My spotting skills also leave a lot to be desired, especially in the larger rivers, and so I could easily have passed by hundreds of fish! As it was I got a couple each day but all around the 2lb mark. The final 2 days were spent on a river on the way back home and I was pleased to have chosen it. Getting there took a while and so I did not have that long on the water on Saturday but did land the biggest brown of the trip. Nothing amazing at 4.5lb but a fit and nice looking jack that was very satisfying. On the final morning another 3 between 3-3.5lb were landed and so I drove home happy after an enjoyable and reasonably successful trip. Coming back over Arthurs Pass provided the last bit of entertainment as on reaching the top and stopping at the viewpoint all of Gordons coolant decided to empty out onto the road. After letting him cool and topping things up with water however we both made it home in one piece.

Quake

2011-03-02T21:07:00.008+13:00

After the September earthquake it had taken quite a while for the aftershocks to settle down but, having missed out on the bigger Boxing Day aftershock, we had not felt anything for several months. When we felt the tremor at work in the day everyone thought it was a little bigger but none of us could have guessed the little shake we felt in Ashburton could have caused so much destruction and loss of life in Christchurch where the epicenter was focused. The CBD was effectively destroyed, not even the cathedral was spared. Rocks were dislodged from the Port Hills and sent tumbling down onto houses below.

In Ashburton, pretty much unaffected, people started panic buying with bread, milk and fuel running out for several afternoons until they realised that there was no issue with supply. Accommodation was being offered by those with space and emergency shelters were set up in churches and other centres for the displaced. At the same time life went on with the normal run of sick animals and the more routine surgeries and vaccinations. It is going to take a long time for the city, the capital of the South Island, to recover from this.

The Post "On-Call" Escape

2011-02-03T20:47:00.012+13:00

I have been bad and am writing this some time after the events which will make for a shorter entry, at least compared to the last monster! After Christmas we had the pleasure of New Year on call, which is a 4 day break in this part of the world, and so saw in our 1-year-in-NZ-anniversary stone cold sober. Marked contrast to the previous year. The long weekend passed relatively quickly with some good emergencies (including GDV, blocked cat and c-section for those who care) thrown in for good measure. Somehow we were on call the following weekend too and so our 3rd weekend was spent mostly recovering I think as I'm not too sure what we got up to.

In much need of a little break we took our 2 days owed for weekend working combined with a weekend and headed to the high country for some tramping. Our destination was the top of Lake Ohau, a wonder up the Huxley Valley followed by a dash up high to Dasler biv. We had to get there first though and after the road turned to gravel we ended up bogging down in an insignificant looking ford. the gravel was very lose and we just sunk having just tried to roll through slowly as we have countless times before. Still, the local farmer helped pull Gordon out "don't worry, its not the first time" and we were soon as far as we could drive. Packs shouldered, it was a monotonous first couple of hours along a 4x4 track before we hit the bush. Things improved dramatically as we turned left to head up the Huxley valley, deciding to take the high water track rather than skirt back to a suitable crossing place. Big mistake, the track was fairly overgrown and faint so it took a couple of hours bush bashing to get out to the flats and arrive at the Huxley Forks hut. Perfect timing for a later lunch stop before the uphill started again as we slowly but surely made our way to Brodrick hut at the head of the valley. The 8.5 hours spent getting here with heavy packs (we have started to eat a bit better while in the hills but that does mean more to carry!) was well worth it despite the low cloud coming in to hide the surrounding peaks. Day 2 started grey with low cloud and with little wind there was a worry that there would be no chance of a view. Still, after a slow start to the day we headed up to Brodrick Pass taking us to 1630m. a couple of hours later we made the top, the wind picked up and the vista revealed itself in all its glory. A fantastic spot to stop and soak up the isolation of being in the high country, the nearest road 10 hours away.

We had been tempted to be a bit lazy and spend another night in the same hut but that would mean missing out on Dasler and the gentleman we found at the hut on our return made a compelling argument for making the effort to get there. It was packs on again then as we headed back to Forks hut, this time electing to boulder hop down the river for a bit of variation. Another long day and although I did go and have a look for a fish having carried all my kit so far, not a fish was spotted in an hour by which time dusk was descending and stomach rumbling. Anticipating another longer day we were up and out relatively early the following morning, crossing the waist deep river this time rather than suffer the high track again. The going was much faster than we thought and so it was not so long before we emerged into the much larger Hopkins valley and were looking across the river to Red Hut. the river was braided so the crossing easy and we were soon into our morning snack while chatting to some hunters who had bagged a few Thar around our chosen destination. the final push to the biv was a 2.5 hour grind, the last 1.5 involving a rather steep ascent of 550m in around 600m as the crow flies.

The biv was a delight and nothing like the name suggest with 2 bunks, a roomy work bench, couple of chairs and open fire. the sun was out and having made good time had the afternoon to take in the surroundings. Another 50m or so up brought us out above the bush to sweeping views of both the neighbouring pinnacles and the wider valley and imposing summits. inspiring stuff and I made another trip up hoping to bag some nice sunset landscapes. They weren't bad but you had to be there to appreciate the view! Day 4 was the homeward leg, retracing our steps to the 4x4 track and then to Gordon who was a welcome sight for some clean clothes and a coke. We made it through the ford this time and were home in time to get the washing in the machine.

3 in a Van and an Aoraki Christmas

2010-12-31T11:48:00.035+13:00

First stop with Mum and Dad was Kaikoura (where the missing bags caught us up), about 3.5 hours up the coast and renown for its wildlife, most notably whales. Amy's luck at on the whale watching trip was poor with a heavy swell causing half the participants (or victims) to revisit their breakfast and no wildlife spotted. As a result we were a bit apprehensive especially as we were told a seasickness warning had been issued already for our evening trip. As it turned out the sea was glassy and as we entered the water over the ocean trench responsible for attracting the whales, the captain pulled out his special whale-listening-tracking device and was soon speeding off to find a nearby Sperm whale. Soon enough we were stopped about 30 meters from the surfaced whale as it rested in preparation for another foraging dive. It stayed there quite happily for around 10 minutes, occasionally letting fly a plume of water from its blowhole, before diving and showing us the classic whale tail view. Each dive lasts around 45 minutes and so once it had descended we headed off to find something else to see. Soon enough we were in the middle of a huge pod of around 60 Dusky dolphins. These turned out to be real acrobats and were soon leaping and cartwheeling, real show offs! It was actually a shame to leave them to return to the whale as it surfaced again right on time.

Next stop was Picton and not wanting to indulge Mum and Dad too much we stopped at a basic DoC camp ground just out of town in a delightful bay. A little sit down and some bbj (bread butter jam) later it was time to head off on a ramble to the Queen Charlotte Viewpoint. It was good to start a little later as the heat dropped and the walk was very pleasant. The view was fantastic, looking up the whole length of the sound with a few secluded specks of buildings the only indication of the great walk which runs the whole length of this waterway. Turning back the weather looked to be coming in and sure enough by the time we were back I hurried to peg out my guys for fear of losing the tent completely. The rain was heavy overnight but the cloud was not too thick the following morning to completely obscure the view from the scenic route through to Havelock, the muscle capital of NZ apparently. We only stopped for a coffee and cake before arriving at Pelorus Bridge, a beautiful spot even in the rain. There was only 1 other van in the DoC campsite (this time with hot water!) and while Mum and Dad went on a short walk I wondered up the river spotting a couple of fish but failing to tempt either. Wednesday dawned wet again and so we took the opportunity for a look around Nelson before retreating to a fantastic restaurant that was a converted boat shed hovering over the water. It was then a short-ish drive further round the coast to Kaiteriteri, just south of Able Tasman National Park. Feeling a bit cold and like she had slummed it enough, Mum put her foot down and insisted on staying in an en suite motel unit for the two nights we were there rather than another night in Gordon. This did mean I got my van back for a good nights sleep!

Thankfully the sun then made an appearance and we enjoyed some good weather for our boat trip up the coastline before being dropped off and walking a couple of hours back along the much trodden coastal route. Being a great walk there were some great facilities for a "wilderness" with plenty of toilets, campsites and one huge hut in the process of being done up. We were picked up again and sped back to the campsite where I then went off to try and hire a bike to ride around the newly created mountain bike park. Track one down I did and then could only manage 2.5 hours of the allotted 4 hour hire time before my legs refused to cycle 1 more revolution. The park was fantastic and definitely made me look forward to some more biking back home with Amy and I having already decided to get bikes for Christmas. We were now ending our week away and it was time to turn south. First stop was St Arnaud in the Nelson Lakes. We had been warned about the ferocity of the sand flies here and unfortunately these rumours had not been exaggerated. I want for a fish in the afternoon managing to catch just one but not after seeing two of the largest black eels imaginable swim up to me while I was wading into position. I moved on very quickly! We hid from the blood suckers after I got back, eating out in the hotel, and the following morning headed over Lewis Pass to Hanmer Springs. the crossing from west to east was accompanied by a remarkable change in weather as the torrential rain stopped in the space of a km or so and was replaced by blue skies and bright sunshine. While Mum went shopping Dad and I found out that his golf lessons had not been going so well as I beat him at pitch and put! This was our last stop and on Sunday Gordon was upgraded to a plush camper complete with shower, toilet and microwave for their next leg of the holiday.

It was only a couple of weeks, and an enjoyable weekend spent up at Lake Heron, later that we then found Christmas upon us and straight after work finished we drove up to Glentanner just short of Mount Cook to join Mum and Dad for the festivities. Although our second hot Christmas in a row, it still feels very wrong, especially with all the songs going on about snow, warm fires and the cold. Still, Christmas day ended up being truly glorious with epic views of the high peaks that surrounded us. We walked up the Hooker valley before lunch which consisted of a spread fit for royalty as Amy had spent t
he week before making dishes for the ultimate picnic. Needless to say the rest of the day was spent in relaxation mode! Boxing day saw the weather turn though thankfully not quickly enough to ruin our boat trip on the lake created by the Tasman Glacier. It was fun to get up right next to the floating icebergs that have been carved off the terminal face of the glacier. Dinner was another treat, eating out at the Old Mountaineer restaurant in Mount Cook village. By the time we turned in we were rocked to sleep in our respective vans by the wind and come morning the ground was saturated. Packing up, we ended up back home as there was little sign of improvement on the journey back to Ashburton. It was then but a short time untill the folks were packing their bags for Hong Kong, the next leg of the trip.

Hallelujah Flat and The Grand Arrival

2010-12-03T08:42:00.022+13:00

I don't think I have kept up with my photo club competition results, but the end of the year is time for the final meeting before everything stops for the summer. This consists of a summary of the years events and the handing out of various trophies. As I did not know a trophy was involved, receiving one each for my top PJ print and winning portrait was a big surprise. To top the night off, all of the accepted and honours images from the year are judged again to determine the top 10 prints and top 10 projected images. I was delighted to have a few images in these categories as there is a pretty high standard of entries. I was even more pleased when I was given first the top print of the year with my print of "Alone on the Horizon", and shortly after was announced as the winner of top projected image with "Fork Study". Not bad for my first year!

With Amy back from an enjoyable weekend up north, tramping was back on the agenda and we again headed to Arthurs Pass to complete the Hallelujah flat circuit. The path meandered pleasantly through beach forest and open grassland before arriving at our home for the night Casey hut. This was big and airy with some bug screens to ensure we could get some air while avoiding the sandflies which started to gather once the sun was obscured behind a developing bank of cloud. Rain that evening and overnight meant the sky was crystal clear the following day and the temperature quickly rose, the sun being reflected off the dry grassland and bare earth making it feel a bit like being trapped in an oven. I found the final push up and over Bisner Saddle a bit of an effort, Amy doing her usual trick of speeding up as the gradient increased! There were no flat batteries or other surprises on arriving back at the van and so the weekend was a resounding success in beautiful country.

4 days later and it was my turn to go and meet Mum and Dad as they arrived at Christchurch after a few days spent in Bangkok en route. It was great to see them after 18 months away, it's just a shame that their bags did not arrive with them, stranded somewhere in Sydney having not quite made the connection!

Another Month Flies By

2010-11-22T21:48:00.011+13:00

Wow, what a month! The longer evenings have meant that after work there is plenty of time for a bit of tennis and the touch rugby season has started. After puffing through the first match, thankfully there were plenty of rolling subs, my fitness is slowly improving. Our weekends have also been action packed. First up was a visit from our Christchurch friends Lou and Rog, making the brave journey from the big smoke to little old Ashvegus. A BBQ was followed with Amy rediscovering her love of a Church Road desert wine that she had previously described as liquid honey! To clear the head on Sunday we all headed up to Lake Coleridge for a bit of a leg stretch which turned into a pretty relentless climb up Peak Hill. The views at the top weren't bad at all and after that exertion we felt justified in stopping at the Terrace Downs golf resort for a flat white and super large bowl of potato wedges.

Another week past and with a poor forecast we ended up deciding on a short jaunt up Bealey Spur in Arthurs Pass national park. Not setting off until Saturday lunchtime the weather got better and better and by the time we had had a brew at the hut and climbed the final hour to the top of the ridge the views over Mt Rolleston and Avalanche Peak were pretty special. We had arrived at an empty hut, hut being a generous term considering the palaces we have previously found in the middle of nowhere. Instead this was a very old musterers hut roughly cobbled together from bits of tin around a rather inefficient open fire. By the time we had filled our eyes with the view and turned to head back we could see a whisp of smoke on the horizon and once we got back the tiny hut was not only full, there was an Australian couple who had to pitch their tent next door. Although well into spring, that night the temperature dropped enough that there was a liberal coating of frost on the ground come morning though not enough to deter us from repeating out walk up the spur.

It was then time for Amy to meet up with her parents and so she headed Noth to Blenheim the following Thursday evening, it being a public holiday on the Friday. I took the opportunity to go fishing and had an invitation to join Rob and Sheree at the Tekapo river up in the high country. This river is fairly renown at having 250 fish/km though unfortunately has come down with a severe case of the invasive foreign algae Didymo. This was forst found in NZ a few years ago, presumably having been brought in by a visiting tourist, and has quickly taken hold in a number of important rivers. At present it does not appear to have significantly affected the fish or insect life but it is still early days. The mats that form however are slippy as hell and also rather effectively gum up any nymphs that you try and bounce along the river bed to intice the resident trout population. Still, the weather turned out to be superb, the top secret camping spot could not be bettered and a number of fish were caught by all 3 of us. I had my first take on a dry fly, a parachute adams, and also on a self tied nymph, a bead head pheasant tail! I was also left with the challenge of providing dinner for the brand new smoker Rob brought along and thankfully a well conditioned 4lb rainbow meant that I managed to deliver.

After such a success and eager to make the most of Amy being away for another weekend, I took myself off south for another weekend of fishing a week later. The weather was a little worse in that it rained non stop on Saturday and was grey and blustery on Sunday. Arriving just before dark on Friday night I was more than a little pleased to find a significant rise in progress. By the time I had my kit together I could just about see to get to the water and after about 15 minutes landed a lovely 5lber in the pitch black, very exciting! The following day I saw plenty of big fish, caught a few, scared a lot more and had a great time despite the weather. Sunday was slower with only 1 landed and another couple broke off but the location was superb and another day well spent.

A Tramp of Incidence

2010-10-25T08:55:00.008+13:00

The ski season has come to an end, and while we did not spend as much time on the slopes as we had thought, it was bloody good fun! Mount Hutt may be small but the variety of runs is good and there is something to be said for getting to know the slopes well. Unfortunately the weather stopped us skiing more than we did with high winds and no visibility a relatively common weekend forecast. Being spring we also went down to a 1 in 4 rota with the large vets doubling up for calving season. Amy ended up winning the calving competition with 65 in the 12 week calving period. She is still going with a delightfully pungent full embriotomy last night bringing the yearly total to around 80! We both definitely improved and overall I clocked up 10 days, 128 runs and 52132 vertical meters at the Hutt with the extra days at Roundhill and Dobson providing a bit of variety.

The weekend focus now switches from skiing to tramping. Amy had had a week up around Abel Tasman with Janneke and so already had a 2 day tramp under her belt. We opted for a gentle intro up in Lake Sumner Forest Park, a jaunt to Jollie Brook hut. Driving up took a bit longer than expected, an extra hour spent driving deep into the park on a dirt gravel track, but the walk up to Gabriel Hut, a side trip to see the lake and the short slog over the saddle was great. It was nice to be back in the boots again. The hut was great, very roomy with a warm fire and all to ourselves. The route out on Sunday followed the river and we were forced to cross 33 times with the water varying from mid-calf to mid thigh in depth. We were looking forward to a change of clothes and a Burger King on the drive home by the time we reached the van. Unfortunately Gordon had had his lights left on and the battery was completely flat. Just as I was about to jog down the road to try and find someone to help a 4x4 drove by and sure enough had jump cables. The battery was that flat however that they did little more than get the dash lights going. No problem he said, we'll just put my battery in and switch again once the engine's running. You can do that? No as it turns out, as soon as the battery was disconnected the engine died again. No problem, I'll just tow you so you can jump it. Still no joy and so his trailer was reconnected and we had a lift to Kaiapoi 2.5 hours closer to Ashburton. He was an absolute lifesaver as we did not pass anyone else on the dirt road out and with no mobile signal would have been well and truly stranded. Arriving in Kaiapoi, he dropped us off to buy a new battery as we still had some thoughts of getting back that day. It was too late however and so we ended up simply lugging a battery on the bus into Christchurch to some friends who then dropped us off at the bus stop to Ashburton. The 4 hour walk had been somewhat overshadowed by the 7 hours it took to get home. The best bit was the fact that we then got to spend Monday night after work driving back up to the van, installing the battery before heading back home again. Another 6 hours! Lets hope our future tramps are not quite so eventful.

Its currently Labour weekend and we are on call for yet another bank holiday, though we do get the day in lieu. The rodeo came to Methven and we thought it was worth the risk to go and have a look. Unfortunately I got a call that absolutely could not wait (i.e. cat been off colour a bit for last few days and not improving) and so ended up missing everything except the kids riding the calves and sheep. The BBQ is getting good use at the moment and weather permitting I'm off fishing again Wednesday. I could get used to this good weather!

The Beasts

2010-10-24T09:58:00.003+13:00

Opening Day and a Fish at Last!

2010-10-02T14:56:00.011+13:00

October the first represents the opening of the fishing season and having booked the day off I was a little worried that a lone trip somewhere unknown may turn out to be a bit of a waste of time, especially with reports that opening day is often not blessed with the best of weather. My luck was in however as I was kindly invited to tag along with Rob, the partner of a girl from work, and his mate Bruce. Pick up time was 7:15am with clear skies, the only worry was the wind. Meeting up with Bruce we headed to the top secret location set among stunning country and started stalking the edge. From what I can tell, fly fishing in NZ is very different from most other countries for 2 reasons: the number of fish is relatively low but they grow to a larger than average size and the water is incredibly clear meaning that the primary fishing method is "sight fishing", you cast to fish that you have spotted rather than fishing blind. Bruce spotted the first fish and the boys insisted I should cast to it. Now this was a pretty nervous time as I did not want to look like the complete amateur I am (all the gear and no idea!) and I also did not want to waste the opportunity knowing there may not be that many others with 3 of us on the water. The first few casts made with shaking hands were OK, just trying to get the length right to one side. The gusting wind then made it a bit tricky to get the nymph over to the far bank where the fish was busy feeding. A few time I dropped the nymph a little too short, right on the head of the trout but thankfully it was not spooked, the benefits of it being the start of the season and the fish being a little naive! Soon enough the cast was good and the indicator disappeared under the surface. The strike was made and the hook set, at least for a brief second before it came flying out of the water. With nymphing you need to react immediately and my reaction was a little on the slow side, mark that one down to experience.

A little later a deep pool was reached and a trout spotted patrolling his beat. Robs double nymph setup ensured the juvenile male was soon landed. The sun was still shining though by the time we turned back to retrace our steps the wind had picked up a fair degree, a dreaded nor'wester. This made the spotting much harder, the ripples obscuring the view, though in all honesty the trout would have to be jumping clean out of the water for me to be sure of a spot. By the time we made it back to the pool, Rob spotted another fish had taken up station. Unfortunately for him however he had crossed to the opposite bank and the current prevented the telling cast being made. Bruce gave it a go, the hook was set but the line then broke. Either it was shocked enough or another took its place because spotting another dark shape my nymph was taken and a 2.25 pounder was soon landed after a brief aerobatic show. My first fish on a fly rod!

The experience of casting to a fish that you know for sure is there is exciting to say the least, waiting with baited breath for the twitch or sudden submersion of the wool indicator. It was not long before another fish was spied, again by Bruce, who insisted I was due another shot. I was worried the line would spook the fish as it landed right over its rippling form but the indicator dived to indicate a sure take and my reactions were quick enough to ensure the hook set. With Bruce manning the landing net a rather large hen was soon captured and the scales revealed it to be a little over 6.5lbs! Rob was then into another to end the day, again over 6lbs, before we reached the car and cracking open a few beers to round of a truly excellent day.

As I type this the skies are grey with drizzle but spring does appear to have arrived. The blossom is in bloom and flowers coming to life. Ashburton domain is looking fantastic and I have headed there a fair few times after work to try and capture it at its prime. Bruce has the fishing photos and will hopefully email me them soon. Until then you will have to just take my word that a fish or two was caught and just enjoy the spring photos!

Portraits

2010-09-22T22:04:00.008+12:00

Another month has past and so it is time for another results session from the camera club. The topic this time was "portraits". The judge was a professional portrait photographer dealing primarily with children which was just as well as most of the entries were of smiling babies and grinning toddlers. The 2 big tips were to get the light on the eyes right (as well as making sure of sharp focus) and to apply a vignette selectively. These points were repeated ad nauseam and to be honest the whole critique became a bit tedious, especially when the best shot of the night (by a very long way) was only given an acceptance. Still, of the 4 shots I submitted only 1 fell by the wayside. The shot of the kebab seller was accepted, Amy in the desert was given honors and my self portrait was awarded best shot! Next fortnight is the results of the 3rd open so stay tuned...

Earthquakes and Nor'westers

2010-09-14T18:43:00.011+12:00

When you consider the fact that New Zealand is a part of the Pacific Ring of Fire the events of the last week are maybe not that unexpected. Waking up however to the whole house shaking violently at 4:30 on Saturday morning was not in the weekend plan. Although Amy insisted at first that it was just a train, the fact that we live a good 200+m from the track and any trains slow to a crawl as they trundle through town added weight to my insistence that we were in the middle of a natural disaster. It may have been a good idea to grab our emergency kit (which the government recommend every home assemble) and cower under the table or in a doorway but after 2 minutes or so the vibrations stopped, nothing had fallen over or broken and with no emergency kit to grab it seemed a bit pointless getting out of bed. Waking up in the morning and hearing the news that the quake measured a hefty 7.1 on the Richter scale it was surprising there was not more damage. This was the same magnitude as the recent event that decimated Haiti. Driving around there was little to see, a few fallen chimneys nothing more but when I tried to continue with my weekend plans of heading to Lake Colleridge while Amy went kayaking I found the Rakaia gorge bridge closed for inspection.

Instead I headed up the south running road to the head of the river. It really is a very scenic drive that takes you right to the start of the Southern Alps. The mountains were all snow-capped, the weather was superb and after stopping for a brew by the river it was time for some leg stretching and so I headed up the small Double Hill hoping for an even better view. The view was fantastic but it was not obtained before a bit of cliff climbing after the path vanished and a bit of bush bashing meant I was a little reluctant to re-trace my steps. In the afternoon the wind picked up and it was time to head home. A bit of internet searching that evening revealed the extent of the damage that Christchurch had suffered. Buildings collapsed, cars crushed and roads destroyed. It was lucky the earthquake happened at the dead of night, much earlier and people would still have been out on the town and the story would have been very different. For the whole week after there have been plenty of aftershocks and although some have been a reasonable size in their own right they have thankfully been getting progressively less frequent. I was nearly going to write that it has been 6 days since the last shock but then I was woken to one last night (it now being 12 days since the big one). Still, the now familiar rumble that preceded an aftershock by 10 seconds or so appears to have been relegated to memory.

Having come through that natural event unscathed, and eager as always not to waste a weekend, on Sunday of that weekend we hit the hills. The fact that the ski slope was closed due to high winds should have given us a warning, but as soon as we started climbing the ridge that takes the round about route to Woolshed Creek (a hut we had preciously stayed in when we tramped the Mt Somers Circuit) it became progressively harder to walk in a straight line! Thankfully the ridge was not of the knife edge variety and we made out lunchtime destination, taking shelter from the howling nor'wester. The walk was great and in fact the sun came out half way round the loop making the 4 hour leg stretch even more enjoyable. Another week of work then passed painlessly enough before an impromptu Friday night outing resulted in sore heads all round come Saturday morning. It was perhaps a good thing then that the wind was back and Mt Hutt closed as we ended up surfacing a little after noon. A short walk up the top of the Rangitata was all we could manage that day but come Sunday it was time once again to strap on the skis and make the most of the near empty slopes. We are hoping to do the same this coming weekend but with people telling us that heading our way is "a storm as big as Oz" we may have to make alternate arrangements!

Winter Escapades

2010-08-26T08:26:00.007+12:00

It appears that Canterbury does actually suffer from the season we call winter and the sight is vaguely familiar. After around 12 months of summer we are at last experiencing short days, cloud filled skies and prolonged periods of rain. Just like home! One good thing about winter though is the rugby season and while we may have missed the six nations, the All Blacks came to town and the chance was just too good to miss. For a mere $50 each we had tickets to see the local derby with the Ozzie's coming along for the fight. the first half was great however the second kind of fizzled out and I was a bit disappointed with the lack of atmosphere in our stand (the cheap one) filled with students and foreigners. I can't imagine that complaint will stand when England come to visit at next years World Cup and can just imagine the sound of "Swing Low" echoing around the stadium as we watch their quarter final victory. This is not all imagination as we have taken the hopefully small gamble of buying tickets to both Christchurch quarter finals which should involve England, New Zealand, France and Scotland/Argentina. Not a bad group!

Our proximity to not just one ski option but at least half a dozen has also not been ignored and having spent 8 days enjoying Mount Hutt we thought it high time we looked a little further afield. The last few days at the Hutt have also been very busy with 10+ minute lift queues and so the task in hand was to find some fun slopes, friendly crowds and a bit of untracked powder would be nice. Not much to ask really and of course New Zealand delivered in the form of both Roundhill and Mount Dobson. Driving up to Lake Tekapo on Friday night we were on the 35km dirt access road in good time and despite the forecast of cloud and rain negotiated the ski hire shack in time to catch the t-bar in spectacular sunshine, even if the low cloud below us obscured any sign of the lake. The sun stayed out and the slopes were great. Tiny in any one's book but the new lift to a steep ungroomed slope provided ample entertainment. This new lift is of the "nutcracker" variety whereby the user is forced to don a cosy climber-esque harness with metal rope crimping device attached (resembling the tool the lift is named after). The aim is to try and hold this onto the rope with all your hand strength while it gets clattered through metal runners and hauls you up a very, very steep slope. We both made it to the top, though the hands needed some time to recover from the resulting cramp, and we were treated to steep ungroomed powder. About halfway down the top crust softened out enough for Amy to even start overcoming the uncertainty felt at the top and by the bottom we had both felt pleased with our obvious improvement since the start of the season. A bite to eat was followed by a mid afternoon beer and another few goes at the nutcracker where traversing across the hill I managed to score some soft untracked perfection. I may not have the best technique (or any at all) but it sure was fun! The following day spent at Dobson was equally as spectacular and the weather just as good the only real downside to the weekend being how stiff our legs were come Monday morning.

And what of the Tree competition? Well I am pleased to report that the judge looked kindly on my entries and awarded them 3 honours and 1 acceptance! While I am a bit worried that this may represent my Ashburton club photographic peak I had high hopes for this set of photos and would have been a little flat had they fallen by the wayside. Best of all, 3 were taken within the last few months, only 1 being dredged up from the archives. The judge was also very good at explaining his reasoning and I certainly feel that I picked up some good tips on composition. It was also nice to then see a sample of his work which is truly outstanding and very much worth a look here. The next effort is portraits and I doubt I'll be reporting back on such a good result!

Landscape Competition

2010-07-24T17:38:00.003+12:00

Writing this rather late but thought I'd let you know how my 4 photos did in the photo club landscape competition. I did not have high hopes expecting only 1 to have any potential, the shot of the mountains and road taken in Tibet. As it turned out it not even accepted and as it was the first one of mine to be shown I was not expecting the night to get any better. As it was however, the other 3 were all accepted! No honours and no best print this time round but still, I was pretty chuffed. I have missed the last couple of monthly competitions but the one this coming week is "Trees" and I hope to have a few ready for Thursday.

The Wonderful West

2010-07-16T17:32:00.016+12:00

After 5 months of working life it was high time for a holiday and so off we set in Gordon to explore the west coast. Now this may not have appeared like the best of choices at first glance, the weather generally consisting of rain rain and more rain with it being winter to boot but our weather luck continued where it had left off from our trip to Fiordland and we experienced nothing but blue skies. After a chilly Friday camped out at Klondyke corner just short of Arthurs Pass village we headed up to Punakaiki, the most northerly spot. The site here was the Pancake rocks, an area of exposed rocks that look like stacked pancakes (apparently) The whole area is limestone and so there are stacks a-plenty creating an impressive stretch of coastline and inland we wondered up Fox river to a fantastic 200m long cave. The Pancake Rocks come alive at high tide and we were incredibly lucky that this was in the evening of our arrival just as the sun shook free from its cloudy veil to illuminate the blowholes a shade of golden. The sea was not rough enough for a good drenching but having arrived expecting not a lot I was pleasantly surprised. It was then a case of spoiling ourselves and checking into a backpackers - hey, it was a holiday! The journey south was great having picked up a guide to the area around the glaciers pointing out some choice spots. One of these was a coast walk by HariHari which led through lovely bush to a stunning beach covered in driftwood with the snow capped mountains a more than suitable backdrop!
That done we headed to Franz Joseph for a quick glimpse at the ice flow followed by a beer before parking up in a quiet lay by. It is winter and we woke to a thick frost but clear sky and so we headed up on our first day tramp of the holiday, the climb up the ridge to the viewpoint of Alex Knob. With the predicted time to ascend the 1000+m ridge being an 8 hour round trip we were pleased to make the top in 2 and felt like we deserved the splendid views over the Franz Joseph glacier and surrounding peaks. As lunch spots go we could not have asked for more and the sun allowed us to linger before heading back down. This earlier than planned finish meant that we had time to head to Lake Matheson, the postcard spot of the region offering perfect reflections of the Southern Alps. When we arrived the coffee shop was closed and the mountains shrouded in cloud. Still we were there and felt it would be rude not to take a stroll around the lake. Thankfully I took my camera and tripod along too as the clouds soon parted to show the view we were homing for. Unfortunately the sun was just a little too low to light the surrounding trees but that's just being picky! After another hostel night we took to the ice of Fox glacier on a full day guided walk. It proved to be a very enjoyable day with a good small group of people, something a bit different for us. Having never worn crampons before we thought it might be hard going but the definitely did the job and after a short while you could almost forget you were walking on ice.
It was then time to properly stretch our legs as we embarked on our first overnight tramp for quite a while. It took us 6 hours to get up to Welcome Flat, the walk being a bit harder than anticipated and very cold with the valley completely devoid of any sun. It was enjoyable though and the destination worth the reputation with the natural hot pools being hot and offering amazing views as the sun dipped below the snow capped mountains. The hut was full with a couple of big groups giving a good atmosphere and plenty of body warmth to keep the sleeping area nice and warm that night. the walk back to the van the following day was possibly even colder but still enjoyable and having left the hut early there was plenty of time for a leisurely drive down to Haast. We stopped at Lake Moeraki and took the path to the beach having read there was a chance to see the Fiordland Crested Penguin. They proved to be too shy, though we expected as much with it just being the start of the breeding season, though the beach was lovely and a seal did pop by to say hello so we got our wildlife fix. The sun set just after we pulled into the viewpoint at Shipwreck cove and we then headed to another backpackers for a much needed hot shower.
Time flies when you're having fun and it was Friday already. We drove down to the end of the road at Jackson Bay, stopping several times to admire the impressive coastline, before heading inland towards Wanaka. We parked up in a pretty lakeside area just short of town with the scenery changing from temperate rainforest to the high country and mountains of Aspiring National Park once we crossed Haast Pass. The original plan had been to spent our final proper day skiing but with snow in a bit of a short supply we took the Aspiring NP road past Triple Cone ski field into the park itself and hiked up the valley to see Rob Roy Glacier, again well worth the effort which at least kept out the cold. Back in Wanaka there were no rooms available and so rather than splashing out on our last night it was another night in Gordon after a tasty curry. We woke to find the inside frosted from the temperature which the internet later told us was -5 degrees and spoiled ourselves by heading to a warm cafe for a spot of breakfast. 7 hours, and several stops later, we arrived back home with that post-holiday feeling - "I don't want to go back to work tomorrow". What a week, we are already thinking about our return to the wonderful west!

20 Runs and 8208m

2010-06-17T18:37:00.005+12:00

After being snowed out of Mt Cook we had that rare event come around the following weekend...we were on call! Having become used to a 1 in 4, a 1 in 3 and for Amy a 2 in 5 rota our current 1 in 7 makes it feel like we seldom work. The weekend did little to correct that thought thankfully as apart from a steady Saturday morning clinic I was only called once and did not feel like we were missing out on much more than we would have done anyway. A walk around nearby Lake Hood was our Saturday afternoon activity followed by a pint in Speights Alehouse and on Sunday we merely watched the rain hammer down. The best thing about working the weekend is that the following week is converted to a 4 day affair with both of us getting the Thursday off. This is how we found ourselves waking up earlier than a normal working day and heading to Methven to hire ski kit from Jace's Ski Hutt. 5 minutes later we had been fitted with boots and skis and were on the access road to Mount Hutt skifield. Forget about nice roads to the top and easy driving, in true NZ style the access road is gravel, steep and icy as hell. The going was slow and on one section we came across relatively soon there was a risk that traction would be lost completely. We overcame that obstacle and at the designated spot fitted our snow chains (yes, they came with the van of course!) before arriving at the carpark 16km and around 40 minutes after leaving Methven.

The day was simply glorious. The sun either shone or was obscured by the smallest whisp of cloud. The slopes were empty and neither of us appeared to be too rusty as we sped down a total of 8208 metres elevation in 20 runs, our electronic season pass tracking our lift usage. The Alps this is not and only 2 of the 3 lifts are running this early in the season with around half of the runs still closed due to the snow conditions (mostly the steaper blacks). That said, there are definitely no complaints, the slopes are well groomed and of good variety providing plenty of fun for weekend or day off skiing. Now thats something you can't do back home!

Happy Birthday Your Majesty

2010-06-07T17:11:00.009+12:00

It's hard to believe that over a month has gone by since my last musings and while time has sped by I am not quite sure where it has gone. Work has been work; enjoyable, fairly relaxed but also far busier this last few weeks than before due to staff changes and holidays. Tomorrow sees a new vet arrive which should hopefully lighten the load again. We have also discovered that the Canterbury Plains are not a year round rain free area as we had been led to believe by the blue skies that had been a near permanent fixture since our arrival. Winter is here and the rain hammered down for a week non-stop causing causing trickles to become raging torrents of water rushing to the sea. On the plus side this means that the hills now have snow and it truly was a spectacular sight to see the distant range coated a glistening white on the first day of blue sky after the downpour. Mount Hutt opens in a week now and we can hardly wait to hit the slopes.

As for adventures, the weather has slowed down our outdoor explorations but not before we chalked off the Warfdale track one weekend accompanied by Kat, a fellow foreign vet from the States. the beech forest sheltered us from the drizzle on the Saturday and after a cozy night in the midway hut we were treated to sun as the valley opened out and views emerged. This was all rounded off with a hair-raising drive along the exit road, perilous drop mere inches away. Kirsten was visiting from the North Island one weekend and so it was into town we ventured sampling some of the nightlife on offer in Christchurch before strolling around the Botanic Gardens and eating Eggs Benedict on Sunday. The following weekend plans of whale watching for my birthday had to be put on hold (yes, more rain I'm afraid) and instead we took the opportunity to educate ourselves and go to the theatre to see "The Seagull". Much to our surprise we both really enjoyed it!

And so to this weekend. It just so happens that the Kiwis celebrate the Queens Birthday, or at least use the excuse, and this weekend is a 3 day event. Setting off at 5pm on Friday we started the drive to Mount Cook National Park (also known by the Maori name Aoraki), making it as far as Lake Pukaki where we pulled over for the night. With no major settlements for miles, the stars that night were simply unbelievably bright and their numbers astounding. these clear skies also brought plummeting temperatures and in the morning as well as a thick mist and frost, we woke to a frozen sliding door on the van necessitating a scramble over the front seats to escape for some much needed bladder relief. The skies soon cleared and the mountain vista on the road into the park was alone worth the drive, rich autumn colours giving way to sugar coated peaks. With the forecast promising yet more rain the next day we wanted to make the most of Saturday and so wondered up the Hooker Valley to the lake and Glacier at its head before then driving to the Tasman Lake and marveling at the Glacier and icebergs. A night in a campsite meant that we could sit in the warm before retiring to the van, hot-water bottles essential, and sure enough the following morning dawned damp and grey. This gave us the excuse to head to the Hilliary Centre to learn some more about the national park as well as the man himself. By lunch the snow was falling thick and fast and so after lunch and no let up in sight we beat a retreat and drove home. Not wanting to do absolutely nothing, today we went to see the New Zealand film "Boy" at the cinema and can do no more than highly recommend it.

Having written this and about to publish for all to see I forgot to include our excellent weekend spent in Dunedin at the start of May. Parking up at the Moeraki Boulders Friday night (and failing to find Tims phone!) we then met up with our friends Emily and Andrew who took us on a fabulous tour of the peninsular. The highlight was Sandfly Bay which as well as providing stunning scenery was home to a number of Sea lions who had a bit of a domestic in front of our very eyes. I would have hardly been surprised had David Attenborough suddenly crept up and started whispering in my ear! This spectacle also means that all of the seals and Albatross are hardly going to get a mention!

Top Print

2010-04-28T22:26:00.010+12:00

Arriving in Ashburton I was looking to join a few clubs and the Photographic Society was first on the list. Arriving at the first meeting it was instantly apparent that the average age was significantly lowered by my being there and the first meeting was unfortunately a quick run through of some holiday snaps! I was assured by the younger (middle aged) members that things would get better and as everyone was very welcoming the next few meetings were attended and were indeed a bit more interesting though there was little room for contribution at this stage. Unfortunately the monthly "field trip" is always at the weekend and as we have been heading out and about it has proved impossible to get along to any of these trips. I did however put 4 prints forward for the monthly competition, this one with the theme of "Photojournalism", tinkering with a few of my many travel pictures. Rather disappointingly 3 fell by the wayside pretty quickly, apparently not up to standard, with the gradings being unaccepted, accepted and honours. Waiting for my final print to meet a similar fate the accepted images were soon critiqued and then the honours were started. Much to my surprise my final image, the Chinese soldiers marching through the streets of Lhasa, was then given the title of that evenings best print! The comment was that he would have liked to have seen the colour version though as the judge was sceptical of monocrome images which is ironic as I had printed both versions but felt the submitted version more powerful. As pleasing as i was the unaccepted images were not critiqued and so I am not sure where they fell down for fuure reference. I will include them here for your opinion along with the colour version of the succesful image. The next theme is landscapes and while another 4 prints have been submitted I am not holding out much hope for them as it was a bit of a rush job to get them sorted in time. I'l let you know in a month!

Tramping St James

2010-04-27T22:06:00.006+12:00

The blog appears to have become a bit of a tramping journal at present. No apologies for that as apart from work, we are spending most of our free time heading into the hills with large packs on our back. Having worked Easter we had a couple of days off in lieu and so we bookmarked a long weekend for a tramp that would last longer than the standard 2 days. Having not done anything longer before we did not want to tackle anything too extreme and did not want to be faced with a miserable trudge over exposed terrain if the weather closed in. The result was that the decision was made to head up to Lewis Pass and tackle the Saint James Walkway, billed as an easy sub-alpine route that should take 4-5 days to cover the 67km. As soon as it struck 5pm on Wednesday we showered for the last time for a few days and hit the road arriving at our destination around 9:30 and spending the night in a lay-by. Morning came and we were dropped off at the trail head by the Boyle Outdoor Education Centre who then parked the van at theirs securely and ready for us at the end of the track. We had planned the first day to be our longest and suitably the weather was also the best with glorious sunshine showing off the valley and mountain landscape at its best. For the whole 4 days we were walking across gently sloping grassy valleys, through native beech forest and crossed 2 "saddles" that hardly deserved the name. The huts were cosy, although the other couple who we shared 2 nights with insisted on creating a sauna by stocking the fire a bit too well. Although the majority of the land is owned by a private station there is little stock present though wildlife a plenty with horses, geese, ducks, wild pig and of course possum all present in abundance. Unfortunately there were however no fish to be seen so I was unsuccessful despite lugging my rod along though by the final day I was catching noticeably fewer trees! And so it was that by around 11:30 on Sunday morning we arrived back at the van and Gordon took us home without any complaint and only the smallest amount of exhaust smoke.

I should also point out that Sunday marked our first wedding anniversary. I can scarcely believe that a whole 12 months ha gone by especially as we have not really been up to much. Quiting work, visiting 6 new countries over 8 months unemployment, starting to work again and settling in to a new country as well as only our 2nd proper job...you know, the usual!

Trout, have no fear!

2010-04-18T19:07:00.013+12:00

The 4 day week after Easter was pretty much as busy as expected and certainly more work was done than during the quietest imaginable 4 day on call stretch. After a night on the beers Friday, we spent the rest of the weekend up at Lake Camp a mere 1 hour 30 minutes inland. This was in part to visit another new area and in part to hunt down the elusive trout. Alas, a 4 hour walk in the afternoon provided fantastic views but allowed a pitiful hour for fishing before darkness quickly descended as the sun sunk over the mountainous backdrop of the Southern Alps. The morning broke with frost on the ground and after that same period of an hour a gale started blowing making casting impossible for this novice fisherman and so my landing net remained empty. Autumn has definitely started now with any clear night accompanied by cold temperatures, especially apparent when staying in the van or poorly insulated NZ houses! Still, as spots go there are few better to spend a night and with plenty in the area we tootled on further up the road to "climb" Mount Sunday. Our road map had the area marked as a Lord of the Rings film location and so we were not at all surprised to come across a Gandalf wannabe with a hoard of goblin-like tourists in tow, all posing under a Middle Earth flag at the summit. The views were spectacular despite the fact that this particular mountain had more in common with a mole hill that the surrounding lofty peaks. The 90 minutes was also made more lively by the need to cross a couple of rather nippy glacial rivers.

A week quickly passed and sure enough another weekend escape had been planned. The aim was for an early 1st wedding anniversary surprise for Amy as we will be at the end of 4 days spent tramping the St James Walkway come the 25th. 2 nights had been booked at Tree Crop Farm in Akoroa and having been recommended highly I am pleased to report that all expectations were exceeded. In fact I would go so far as to say that I have never payed to stay in a better place. We were in the Treehouse hut, completely secluded from the rest of the property and set in beautiful grounds. Arriving in the dark, we found our way by torchlight, creeping through the garden to the sumptuous hut before relaxing under the canopy of stars in the outside bath, a log fire crackling underneath and pink champagne in hand. Saturdays adventure was a trip on the water to swim with the harbours resident Hector dolphins. The trip was fantastic with plenty of these miniature dolphins coming to inspect the boat along with a host of bird life including Albatross and penguins. Unfortunately once we plunged into the water the dolphins did not stick around long but this did net really detract from our enjoyment of the trip and it meant we also got a bit of a refund, bonus! A meal of fish and chips watching the sun set over the beautiful Banks peninsular ended the excursion before heading back to our retreat. Sunday was for sleeping late followed by a short leg stretch and then the dreaded drive back home.

On a separate note, my camera repair came undone again up by Lake Camp despite having had little use since coming back from the repair shop unrepaired but slightly more solid. They did provide the required quote for my insurance claim so fingers crossed a cheque will be in the post for a replacement though knowing insurance companies I wont be holding my breath. I've got my eye on either another D80, a camera that has served me so well, or a Panasonic G1.....

Working Life

2010-04-04T14:54:00.009+12:00

There is nothing quite like settling into a routine to make the passing of time appear a blur in retrospect. Quite where the last 6 weeks (and 3 pay cheques) have gone is a mystery but one thing that is certain is that we have not been idle. That's not strictly true, more like we have not been idle in our free time away from the clinic. The crash back into the world of work has been surprisingly pain free though admittedly it has taken a little time for the dust to be swept from the place my brain used to occupy. I am pleased to say it has nearly completed its move back in and I am enjoying the challenge of veterinary practice once again. Perhaps the hardest thing to come to grips with is the seemingly "disposable" attitude that many people have to their pets, completely disregarding any notion of responsibility that should be inherent. Nothing highlighted this more clearly than in my first day when a litter of 6 pups was brought in with mum, been previously arranged, all for euthanasia as the owner had been unable to find them homes and could not afford the cost of neutering to prevent it happening again. Perversely this cost was only twice that of the required action and so a little forward planning could easily have prevented this terrible deed. I can easily say that it is the worse thing I have had to do, in the UK I had never been faced with the euthanasia of a 100% healthy individual let alone an entire litter. I would also love to say this was a one off but a few more were to follow and with the adjacent SPCA and our own cattery bursting with strays there was simply no other option. Another shock has been the number of animals being run over, not just in the road but by their owners either while exercising their animals alongside the moving vehicle or simply driving around their property. Considering the rural setting there are certainly more victims that there should be. It would not be fair to criticise the majority of pet owners however for even with a lack of insurance, many are willing to spend significant sums on their animals health and many more are very demanding! All things considered though, a more relaxed job would be hard to come by, the "busy" days aren't really and the staff members in the clinic are great to work with. And the best part? Friday beers at around 4:30 is pretty hard to beat with the odd lunchtime BBQ thrown in for good measure!

Come the weekends we are off, exploring this island we have found ourselves on. Tramping has become the main activity with several more routes ticked off. the Mount Somers circuit was a great leg stretcher though unfortunately the low cloud came down on the Sunday, obscuring most of the views. Another weekend was spent hauling our packs up Little Mt Peal, pausing at the summit hut before plowing on up the ridge to Middle Mt Peal in the blazing sun. With no water at the top, and using plenty as the sun beat down we were forced to retrace our steps having spent the night under canvas, the summit of Mount Peal (the big one) a mere hour or so away. The sunrise and view were worth the effort and it was nice to spend a night in the tent again, the first since Mongolia. A few weeks into work and we got our van back, complete with "new" engine and a rather large bill, and so headed off to the Arthurs Pass area. Initial plans to cross the summit of Avalanche Peak and head down to Crow hut were thwarted by the weather. We were warned at the DoC office that the rivers were due to rise and cut off the exit route while high winds would prevent a retreat. Instead we headed round the excellent Cass-Lagoon saddle track. Hitching to the start, the first day was excellent and we ended up staying in an old hunters hut, very basic with dirt floor and canvas bunks but also a delightful open fire. Day two was wet as promised but despite heading up the wrong creek for 30 minutes we still made good time for the drive home. Last weekend it was time to head back to school, fly fishing school that is, run by the amazingly named Chappie Chapman in Christchurch. Having been something I have wanted to try for some time, perhaps due to distant memories of growing up in Scotland, and I found the course fantastic. A further splurge means that I now have all the gear and no idea and all that is left is to head down to the rivers and lakes nearby to pit my wits against the local trout population once the flies come through the post. I don't think they will have much to fear initially, especially as the winter season is much more restricted in terms of available locations and fish numbers to be found there. I will be sure to let you know when I land something! Its now Easter weekend, April showers appears to be true down here as well as back home but as we are on call this matters little and has given me this chance to get things back up to date (and thanks to Amy for supplying the pics while I am camera-less). Happy Easter!

New Features!!

2010-03-08T19:25:00.003+13:00

While I have been going back over my blog, sorting out any missing photos and trying to correct any spelling mistakes (of which there were plenty!), I have found a new feature. I am able to add separate pages which are accessed along the toolbar under the title. The first page is complete and I've given it the exciting title "Photo Kit and Workflow". While it may not be the most riveting of reads, it goes through what I use and how I go about backing up and putting the images up on the blog while I'm on the road. Maybe save it for a bout of insomnia!

I plan to stick up other pages to give a sort of "best-of-the-best" image gallery from each country so watch this space...

Bibliography

2010-02-28T17:49:00.004+13:00

One of the joys of our time away was rediscovering the joy of reading. After reading text books, computer screens and journals all day at work the last thing I would want to do in the evening would be to get stuck into a good book. With no TV or other distractions around and plenty of time sat waiting for transport to leave or some other event there was no excuse. A good book it was any while there were many trashy novels consumed for want of anything better, we did manage to pick up many good reads. We ended up with a fair few classics due to the fact that they were often half the price of a modern day effort. In a rough order, the better ones were:

Soul Maountain - Gau Xingjian
The Complete Short Stories of Mark Twain - Mark Twain
Robinson Crusoe - Daniel Defoe
Ivanhoe - Sir Walter Scott
Into Thin Air - Jon Krakauer
Kim - Rudyard Kipling
No Full Stops for India - Mark Tully
to Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
The Alchemist - Paulo Coelho
Animal Farm - George Orwell
Untouchable - Mulk Raj Anand
White Tiger - Aravind Adiga
Shantaram - Gregory David Roberts
Anna Karenina - Tolstoy

Bloody Gilbert and the Exploding Van

2010-02-22T21:42:00.014+13:00

Working life "started" with a bit of an anticlimax. Despite our phone calls and our applications being marked as urgent (as vets are on the long term skills shortage list) our visas failed to materialise by the Monday morning and after popping into the surgery there was little we could do so we just went home. It was also Amy's birthday so despite our continued unemployment we still went to the pub for a meal and a few bevvies. The week ticked on, time was easily filled registering with the library, finding furniture, organising utilities and other such exciting things. By Thursday we welcomed the phone call from immigration however it was definitely a case of good and bad news. Amy was issued with her visa but because of my so called irrelevant abnormality my application needed to be referred to the medical department for assessment. Having not been to the doctor for anything other than vaccinations since leaving school this was a little annoying to say the least especially when I was told that the process could take up to 8 weeks and at that point further tests may still be needed. I had also done a little bit of self research and thought that it was most likely that I was suffering from the harmless Gilbert's Syndrome which is found in 5-10% of the population. Mum had asked a doctor at home who also suggested this and even the lady who took my blood for a recheck suggested this without prompting. At least it meant that we would have money to pay the rent but I was worried about the possibility of developing cabin fever trapped in Ashburton. What made it worse was that our boxes from the UK with the laptop had not yet been delivered and so I could not use the time to go through the previous 6 months photos and the temporary India camera fix had failed just before heading to the Fiordlands and I had dropped the camera off at the Ashburton shop for hopeful repair. Just how could I cheaply spend my time? The first week however passed quickly enough and we completed our first overnight tramp at the weekend, heading up to the Arrowsmith mountains and overnighting at Cameron hut. The trip up the valley was a long 7 hours made worse by the fact that the track was impossible to follow in places and once you were off the route it was a case of bashing through thick, spiky undergrowth. The final stretch up a boulder and gravel river bed wore us out completely and so we were pleased to find the hut a cosy place to spent the night with just 2 other people turning up later. The trip back was the same route and with fewer wrong turns and the gradient downhill we were not quite so tired once we arrived back at the van. Week 2 started much the same, visiting the library to catch up on reading all of the Amateur Photographer magazine that I had missed since leaving the UK and they had on the shelf, going to the supermarket and even going for the odd run. The surf forecast for Timaru looked good for the Wednesday and so on Tuesday evening I tootled on down the coast to be there for sunrise when the swell hit and the tide was right. Sunrise was great and I joined 4 or 5 other guys out in the water at Patti Point. The set waved became a solid 5 foot and hollow with a pretty dicey takeoff, at least from my point of view having been out the water for so long. I caught a few of the smaller ones but did not like the look of a trip over the falls onto a reef cushioned by a mass of kelp. This was even more the case after the best guy in the lineup took a tumble and joked about getting caught up in all the weed before surfacing! The weather then closed in a bit and swell dropped so rather than hang around to see if there would be anything for an afternoon session I decided to head for home. They say bad things happen in threes and sure enough, having been refused a visa and my camera breaking something else was inevitable. Half way to home the van lost power. Pulling over, the engine seemed very hot and so after letting it cool I thought it could be nursed the final 50kms left before then taking it to the garage. 5kms later a knocking started, power was lost and just as I pulled into a lay-by the engine cut out completely. We had breakdown cover and after being towed to Geraldine the mechanic tried to gently break it to me ("It's not good news I'm afraid mate") that the engine was dead, new one needed. Amy came to the rescue and towed us home and having a few new friends over for dinner helped lighten the mood but come the morning I was ready to head back to the UK. I could not imagine another 6 weeks stuck without wheels and unemployed. Thank goodness then that the call came saying that my visa had been approved that afternoon, the confirmation email having been carbon copied to the registrar of the New Zealand Vet Council who I had recruited to help pester immigration to speed things up. And so it was that 3 weeks behind schedule and on a Friday that I started working at last, 240 days after leaving Belmont House.

The Forgotten World

2010-01-27T20:12:00.030+13:00

We picked up our medicals and had a brief examination, the fact that I had a slight elevation in bilirubin was nothing to be worried about the doctor assured me, and we dropped our results in the large wooden box at the immigration office a few blocks away. The day before we had looked at a few houses on our way through Ashburton and were a bit concerned by what we saw. There were only 3 bedroom places available, nothing furnished, and without exception they were all in a state of disrepair. The walls of wooden planking with flimsy doors and ill-fitting single glazed windows set the scene that was completed with threadbare carpets, grungy bathrooms and pitiful kitchens. It is a mystery why such houses are built (and the general structure is certainly representative of the region) when the weather is far from tropical, a heat pump or wood burner providing the sole heat source in a whole house. It was with trepidation we headed for a second afternoon of viewing but thankfully had seen a place on trademe (the kiwi ebay equivalent) which turned out to be a nice little 2 bed flat with small courtyard and newly fitted out, just what we had been after and sure enough we snapped it up. That little job done, we set off for Queenstown with the plan being to hook up with the boys again for some white water rafting. The clouds hung low and gray as we passed through McKenzie country until we drew close to Lake Tekapo where the sun illuminated this ridiculously blue body of water. As ever we found a spectacular place to pull up by the water and settled in for the night glass of wine in hand. The next day we arrived in town after completing a more boring 4 hour stint and were greeted by a spectacular lake fronted with the aptly named Remarkable mountain range. Phil and Tim had a contact and despite none of us having ever met her, Jill put us up in her flat for the next couple of nights, showing us the drinking establishments in the process. We had booked to raft the Shotover river on our only full day in town and after a minibus ride reminiscent of Nepal, we arrived at the put in point dressed in thick wetsuits and yellow helmets. One safety briefing later and our raft of 6, led by a Greg, a Kiwi who smelled rather strongly of the previous nights intake, set off down river. None of us knew quite what to expect but while fun and a great way to see the narrow gorge, the rapids proved a bit tame and few and far between. Back on dry land Tim set off for his bungee jump, the infamous Nevis, while the rest of us kept our adrenaline levels raised with a round of frisbee golf!

The following day, morning having been written off to a hangover, the final van convoy took us to Arrowtown and shockingly enough our first proper NZ pie. Our bellies satisfied, Amy and I then parted company from the boys and made our way into the Fiordland national Park, spending the night hiding from the sandflies on the banks on Lake Manapouri. We had um-ed and err-ed about which of the Sounds to visit and how to see them and in the end plumped for a 3 day, 2 night trip in Doubtful Sound to kick things off. We left Manapouri, cruising across its lake and arrived at the hydroelectric power station at its west arm. After a quick tour of this underground station, something out of a James bond set, a bus took us over to Deep Cove on a completely isolated road where we dumped our bags at the hostel before heading onto the cruise boat for a 3 hour journey around the entire sound. We had heard Doubtfull was not as instantly impressive as Milford but the scale was still immense and the sense of isolation complete, after all, unless you sail your own boat here the trip we were on was pretty much the only way to visit and the hostel the only accommodation on land. the sky was a rich blue, the tree clad slopes bright green and the commentary from the nature guide actually very interesting. Having reached the group of rocks guarding the entrance to the Tasman sea, a colony of seals basking on the exposed rocky platforms, we turned round and 3 hours after leaving arrived back at Deep Cove. The hostel is set up as an education centre for school children and generally sees few visitors. We brought the total up to 5 including the warden who used to shoot deer from helicopters (part of the national culling strategy)! Large signs warned to keep doors closed to prevent the native Kia (the only breed of alpine parrot) from destroying the place, and screens made sure that we were not bothered by the pesky sandfly. After an early night we were up early to climb the slope above us. We had not expected an easy walk but the "path" turned out to be little more than a line of orange markers following a seemingly untrodden line up a ridiculously steep slope covered in dense, moss covered undergrowth. We ended up needing to use our hands and arms just as much as our feet and legs! The view at the top was more than worth the effort and a better spot for a much needed lunch you could not find. The sound extended out in front of us while the peaks soared up past our level topped with fluffy clouds in a blue sky. There was no sign of any human influence and you could be forgiven for thinking of this as some kind of primeval land as yet undiscovered. Just as we started to pack up, a group of 5 Kia raucously announced their arrival and looked on inquisitively as we made our slippery descent. Needless to say, neither of us could walk properly the next day (or the one after that), our legs reminding us that they were somewhat out of practice.

It did not matter too much however as, after returning to civilisation and stopping in Te Anau for some deservedly recommended pies, we slowly made our way toward Milford for a 3 hour nature cruise booked the next day. This drive is described as a destination in itself and we could not have agreed more. The sun continued to shine, amazing for what is touted as one of the wettest places on earth, and the mountains slowly crept up on us as the farmland diminished giving way to lush flood plains and narrow valleys. Moving deeper, we wound our way over glacial streams, past fields of wild-flowers, along side towering cliffs and among parked up for the night with one of the best views yet. There is always a down side and in this case the sandflies again came out in force, confining us to the van which we hot-boxed with repellent coils. It was worth braving the bugs for a few photos and I escaped with only a few incredibly itchy bites around the ankles! The cruise was all we had expected, Milford Sound is narrower and the land steeper making your insignificance obvious and is in no way detracted by the number of boats on the water. In fact, the other boats actually allowed you to get a better impression of scale as they were dwarfed by the surrounding peaks, Mitre Peak towering above them all. We were in no rush and so once back on dry land, our legs having eased enough to allow less painful walking, we trekked up to Lake Marian, its crystal clear waters surrounded by a bowl of shear cliff faces. After another night spent hiding from our evil biting nemesis we walked up to Key Summit though unfortunately the views were obscured by the cloud which was flowing along the valley and over the summit. This quickly cleared as we slowly made our way across the green farmland to Queenstown where we filled up on fish and chips before stopping just short of Glenorchy. We were then onto our final day before the trip back to Ashburton and made the most of it by testing the vans ability to ford streams and walk up to an old mining works. We had to retrace our steps towards Tekapo, by far the most direct route, but did take the opportunity to explore some of the unsealed roads to add a bit of variation. Stopping for lunch in Twizel allowed us to make some calls and send a fax through to immigration regarding our still-to-be-received working holiday visas and by Friday night of January 29th we were camped out on the beach just east of Ashburton ready to move into our flat the following morning and so commence the return to domestication.

There and Back Again

2010-01-20T18:13:00.015+13:00

We could have been forgiven for thinking that we were still in the northern hemisphere in the depths of winter as opposed to the Caterbury plains at the height of summer. Our first planned excursion was a 2 day hike around Mt Somers but the weather thought it would be a better idea to tip it down and confine us to the comfort of the van. That Sunday we headed to the small independent cinema in Geraldine and, having collapsed in the sofas reserved for us at the front, rather shamefully managed to really enjoy the flick Julie & Juliet. A break in the weather allowed for a short stroll in Peel Forest, visiting the not so large but signposted "Big Tree" before Amy and I left the boys to get to Ashburton for a job interview. We arrived on time but looking like complete hillbillies in our travel clothes, myself with a spectacularly awful beard to complement our attire. Things did not start off well as the minute we set foot in the door we both turned to each other saying it was the last place we would want to work, the big pet shop out front emphasising the fact that this was part of a large group of practices. Things did not fare much better once we were sat down with the opening statement being that they were looking for people who could commit for at least 3 years, us replying that we were here for just one. The slick corporate interview we had expected never materialised and instead we just took part in the good old chat that seems to be the norm for veterinary recruitment. 30 minutes later and having met some of the other staff we were offered the jobs, Amy in a 100% large position and myself the opposite just involved with the smallies. With a 1 in 7 rota, good salary and close to the hills/ski slopes it was too good an offer to miss and so we found ourselves as members of Vetlife Ashburton by the time it came to catching up with the boys in Omaru. Our wildlife luck started well immediately when we stopped on the cliffs overlooking a yellow eyed penguin colony, apparently one of the rarest penguin species, spotting 4 waddling out of the surf. Further along the coast Phil and I braved the gale to go surfing, my first since Morocco over a year earlier, the highlight of the session being the massive seal we saw as we walked back to the van. the morning surf was more of a success with the 6' board that came with the van being better than expected! It was then onto Dunedin vie the world famous Moriaki Boulders (which I had never heard of). these spheres buried in the sand were much smaller than expected and not that interesting though Tim did his best to entertain us by stumbling in the waves, tripping and losing his phone from his unzipped pocket. The rain continued as we entered Dunedin, perhaps appropriate for the "Edinburgh" of this isle, but we found a good campsite by the beautiful St Kilda beach and caught the bus into town for a few cold ones.

At this point the sun came up and our wildlife luck continued as we headed to the Catlins coast, an isolated stretch of rugged coastline, empty beaches and animals galore. Stopping by Nugget point we had a quick surf in the noticeably colder water before wondering to the lighthouse where we sat and watched the seals bask on the sun-baked rocks and cool off in the waves. A side track then took us to Cannibal Bay where my highlight of this stretch occurred. A walk along the beach in the evening sun, gulls swooping on the currents overhead, was pleasant enough but then a sea lion emerged from the surf, lifted its enormous frame upright on its front flippers and crossed the beach into the dunes. Until you are faced with one the scale of the beast is unimaginable and it is then you find them truly worthy of their name. For the next couple of days we dawdled along the coastline, visiting waterfalls, beaches, headlands (including the southern-most point) and ended up at Porpoise Bay where, just as we thought luck had left us, a hector dolphin performed a full flip right in front of us before being joined by three friends. At this point Amy and I had to head back to Christchurch to collect our medical results and submit them to immigration, but not before a midway break in Timaru for a surf at Jacks Point. A kelp strewn reef break will take a bit of getting used to but should be fine so long as I don't break a fin at every visit, unlike the first (start as you mean to go on and all that).

Behind with Photos (and text)

2010-01-19T07:48:00.003+13:00

For those who have been wondering, nothing has happened to us or my camera! We are in New Zealand, sorting visa and vet registration jobs while trying to see as much of the south island before starting work in February. We have both found jobs in the same practice in Ashburton, Amy doing 100%large and I have turned to the dark side by embracing a 100% small animal job. Both with a cushy 1 in 8 rota. House hunting continues today and then we head to the fiordlands. Once we settle I will sort through all the pics and fill in the gaps (including China)...its going to be a big job!

Country No. Six

2010-01-02T17:29:00.012+13:00

...Unfortunately the flight to new Zealand stared off a little more stressful than simply having to decide what coffee we wanted in the departure lounge. Arriving at check-in we answered that no, we did not have an onward flight from NZ but instead had proof of our ability to fund ourselves. WRONG! Instead of reading "and" we had seen "or" on the immigration website and after a check with NZ customs the airline said we could not board the flight without a ticket. They did give us one concession though, we had to buy ticket online in the remaining 20 minutes check-in was open! A quick trawl of the net brought up a cheep single to Sidney which we snapped up, planning on canceling once we landed. Thankfully we were let through and just about made it to our seats clutching sticky cakes we had used our final Baht to acquire. the 3 hour stop over in Singapore was much quieter and we managed to uphold our airport fast food tradition by splurging on a Burger King. At around 10am on the last day of the year we landed in Christchurch and having sped through the infamous Kiwi customs were picked up by Kirsten and taken to the plush suburb of Cashmere up on the Port Hills. This was to be our base for the next week with a significant list of jobs that needed doing so that we could stay and work for the next year. First however, and far more importantly, we hit the town for New Years Eve! with the next 4 days being bank holidays there was plenty of recover time and Kirsten was an amazing host, ferrying us around town to see the sights and drink coffee with her friends. Tuesday came and the first thing was to get some wheels, settling on a camper, the iconic way to travel this neck of the woods. It was kitted out amazingly well and for the next month our catchphrase would become "it came with the van". It also evoked serious van envy from Tim and Phil who drove down to see us later in the week. By that time we had opened accounts, notarised documents (for free and done at 8pm on a Friday night - not in the UK), been bled and x-rayed, seen the tax man; in other words ticked all the boxes. We had felt at home from arrival and the week just highlighted further how helpful and friendly people were. A day trip in the van to Akaroa had been successful, though one tyre valve blew which made sure we knew how to free the spare using the Japanese handbook, and with that we hit the road in a 2 van convoy heading south.

The Death Railway

2009-12-28T21:50:00.006+13:00

Right, I'm a bit behind now and wrote this section before the island Christmas special, just to confuse things and mess with the timeline! We arrived back in Bangkok at 5:30 in the morning with a couple of days left in country. We first scoured the tailors looking for dresses for Amy, there being a plethora of shops offering custom made items for a fraction of the UK cost. Eventually she decided that there was no real immediate use for a frock, I thought the same when considering a suit (my university interview suit is still going strong after all!), and so we moved onto the next job. We confirmed our flights to Christchurch, bought a few little gifts and had a power nap; nothing much to write home about. Eager not to just waste our time, we booked a tour of the area surrounding the infamous bridge over the river Kwai for the following day. First stop was an allied war cemetery, row upon row of headstones set in an immaculately maintained garden, followed by the death railway museum. This graphically detailed the plight of the 60,000 PoW's who were involved in the construction of the bridge and onward railway line which was designed to transport munitions and men into Burma for the Japanese offensive on that front. Approximately half of the men were British, the others being Australian, Dutch, Canadian and American; and around 16,000 died in its construction. To lighten the mood, the next stop was a less than impressive waterfall but Amy and I decided to walk into the hills for an hour, visiting the source of the river and letting the small fish found in the pools nibble all of the hard skin from our feet (in Bangkok the charge for this "fish feet massage" is 100Bt/2 pounds for 10 minutes). Finally, before the long 3 hour drive back to the city, we rode a train along the railway for an hour, admiring the countryside as we went. Our final excursion was not to see a ping pong show (if you don't know best not google) but instead we were pummeled for an hour having a Thai massage. relaxing it was not but it did a good job of invigorating mostly unused muscles and we were pleased not to come away with any bruises. And that's it, a taxi took us to the airport the following morning to end our 6 month Asian adventure.....

Island Festivities

2009-12-25T20:50:00.014+13:00

A long 14 hour bus journey dropped us in Krabi, bleary eyed and eager to stretch our cramped limbs and escape the confined of the mobile fridge, the a/c having been on full blast all night. A van whisked us to the nearest jetty and the sight of the coast on the subsequent long boat banished any fatigue, the beaches, soaring cliffs and lush vegetation painted an amazing scene. Jumping off the boat onto the beach at Raily (the only way to get there) we hauled our bags to the cheapest accommodation around, a pricey 600Bt reminding us this was definitely not India! Our hut was however very smart with a goon en-suit so no complaints there, it was however apparent that things had definitely gone more upmarket and package holiday orientated since Amy's visit 6 years before. Still, the sea was bath-warm, the water turquoise, the sand gold and sun hot! After an afternoon of swimming and lying (or mostly sleeping) on the beach I booked a morning climbing while Amy decided on a snorkeling trip. The climbing was excellent and really allowed me to brush off some of the cobwebs from my small indoor climbing experience back in Bristol. The hardest of the 5 routes I managed was a 30 foot 6A+ with spectacular views over the area from the top. As it was just me and my wiry rasta "instructor" we raced through the routes finishing at around 11am with dead arms. Later in the day we tackled the route to the viewpoint. Half way up we realised that perhaps shoes would have been a good idea rather that battered flip flops though the view made it worth the extra effort. We had no left ourselves enough time for the onward lagoon bit as darkness descended, maybe next time! The evening brought a DJ to our little hut bar and we supped a few cold ones while the (Irish) DJ knocked them back before a duo arrived to put on a very impressive fire show with poi and sticks. It was then time to move on, a day early as a result of the package feel of Raily, and we splashed out getting a speedboat across the water to the island of Koh Yoa Noi. Now this was more like it, a small cheep "bungalow" on the edge of a golden, palm lined beach run by a local family. Offshore there was a fabulous collection of jutting islands thrust from the sea and so on our first full day we hired a long boat with another couple and spent the day cruising the waters, swimming, snorkeling (though the recent rough water had reduced visibility a fair bit) and general relaxing. Day 2 and we hired a scooter, pros after India, and cruised the dirt tracks between rubber plantations which along with fishing makes up most of the islands economy. When it came to finding petrol, we drove past more than a few places before realising that the large glass jars full of multicoloured liquid was what we were looking for! the rest of the time we read, slept, sat, eat, drank and generally enjoyed the time spent in this haven. It was only with great reluctance that we left to visit our 3rd and final island, Koh Phi Phi, in time for Christmas. This involved heading back to Krabi to arrange the ferry, and our return Bangkok bus while we were at it, before slinging our bags on the boat and enjoying the views. Koh Phi Phi is renown as the most beautiful island and it probably does come close, though serious development has spoiled its charms. thankfully we had anticipated this and booked a place on the opposite coast only accessible by 45 minute hike or boat. This payed off as again we were in heaven, good beer, food, people and setting. Neither of us felt very festive having not been subjected to any build-up and this being the first on a beach in 30+ degrees! Not that that's a complaint, we hiked over the viewpoint to civilisation to skype home and enjoy a lunch of burger and chips, very posh! Boxing day was the highlight however as we splashed out on 2 dives where we witnessed the most amazing coral walls either of us have seen so far along with a plethora of fish including a nurse shark and massive turtle. It was a good end to our island holiday before repeating the overnight ordeal back to the capital.

Bangkok

2009-12-19T19:23:00.005+13:00

Our flight with Jet Airways was great, the latest Harry Potter ensuring the time flew by. A city bus then took us to the backpacker heart of Bangkok, Koh San road, and a 10 minute stroll brought us to our hotel. The shock of having to pay 15 pounds for the room was slightly dampened by the fact that we then headed out and had a large meal for under a quid, a single beer then more than doubled the price! Although we had come to Thailand for the beaches we could not stop in Bangkok without a trip to the palace complex and Amy was still keen despite having been 6 years ago. It was spectacular, gold was everywhere, statues of Buddhas and demons abounded, intricate paintings lined the covered walkways and at the very centre was the fabled Emerald Buddha wrapped in its winter dress. Next stop on the river boat, a great way to avoid the traffic and see the city, was China town. Once we got off the main street packed with restaurants from the upmarket to canteens (which we chose!), the small streets felt like jumping back in time by several months. Everything under the sun was being sold and spilled out onto the narrow lanes on overflowing tables. It was then time for some refreshment which was our first real night out for longer than we remember (maybe Kathmandu!). We had decided to head to New Zealand after Christmas and so needed to buy our flights. Scouring the travel agents we quickly realised that the entire Kiwi population was flying back home after the festivities and so we ended up getting a flight that landed in Christchurch on the 31st December for more than we had hoped. Oh well, needs must and all that! A random trip to Jim Thompsons house, a collection of traditional Thai wooden buildings, then filled the time before the nightly Muay Thai or Thai boxing at the large stadium a short walk from the hotel. In the cheap "seats" we were surrounded by the hardcore fans screaming and placing bets left right and centre which provided a much more exciting atmosphere than the ringside seats filled with other foreigners. Things peaked for the 2 KOs we saw, pretty impressive considering each fight only lasts for 5 rounds of 3 minutes each.

A Hill Station Escape

2009-12-16T22:01:00.007+13:00

We had an ambitious target heading from Jalgaon. 3 trains needed to take us first to the outskirts of Mumbai where a connection would whisk us east before the final narrow gauge "toy" train climbed the steep slopes to the hill station of Matheran. Leaving at 7.45am (only 1 hour late) we made it, climbing into the small trains carriages for the final stage of the journey in the company of a large group of transvestites/transsexuals/lady-boys who giggled and squealed the entire journey like excited schoolgirls! This small train took 2 hours to wind its way up the steep slope navigating some of the tightest bends in the world (according to the guide book). Arriving at the station we then had a 20 minute walk to get to our chosen accommodation isolated on the plateau, there are no motor vehicles allowed on the top. The peace and quiet was a welcome escape. We were full board for a mere 1500Rs (or 10 pound each) per night and were provided with more food than we could ever have hoped to get through. In between feeds we attempted to walk around the perimeter to some of the spectacular viewpoints (though the haze was incredibly thick) passing many abandoned buildings, relics of the early 20th century when Matheran was a popular escape for the ruling colonials. Otherwise we simple read, slept and tried to fend off the monkeys who appeared at every meal time despite one of the staff keeping a close watch out. After 3 nights we had to leave for Mumbai and thinking it would be faster we had arranged for some porters to help take our luggage the 3km to the bus stop for the 7am bus. !0 minutes late, at 6.10am, a tiny elderly lady turned up and promptly put both rucksacks on her head despite our protests. Expecting her to be crushed at every step we persevered for 5 minutes before insisting that we would take them ourselves which would be much quicker. We would still be walking now otherwise. Frog marching along the railway track we arrived just in time only for the bus then fail to navigate the first 2 hairpins. Much reversing and burning rubber later we made it to the bottom and caught the commuter train into Mumbai, spoiling ourselves with 1st class tickets which simple meant we were not forced to hang out of the doors. Having expected a serious quest to find anywhere affordable to stay, we were pleasantly surprised that the first hostel, run by the Salvation Army, had free dorm beds right in the heart of Colomba. As a result we were settled in by 11am and free to wonder the area that includes the Gateway to India, the Taj hotel (still in scaffolding following the terror attacks a year ago) and plenty of cafes and clothes stalls. Unable to avoid the need for jobs we also had to spend a painful 4 hours on the internet. Our only full day in town was then spent first at the excellent Ghandi museum where much of my ignorance about the great man was removed followed by a couple of hours sat watching local cricket in the shadow of many grand colonial buildings before finally strolling along promenade of Marine Drive as the sun set over the skyline of skyscrapers. As our final stop in India, Mumbai is not Indian at all. The streets are tree-lined and wide, there is little rubbish, drivers pay attention (sort of) to any traffic signals, there are no rickshaws and European chains are found everywhere ranging from coffee bars to designer clothes. A taxi sped us to the airport early on the 14th and our 2 month stay ended as we flew to Bangkok.

Holy Peaks and Caves

2009-12-09T02:32:00.010+13:00

The 7000 steps of Girnar were so easy we thought that the 3500 steps of Pallitana would be a piece of cake. We weren't wrong, the climb was much more pleasant, there were fewer people and the temples at the top were better. All in all very much worth the sweaty 7 hour bus ride to get there. Having said the temples were better they were not quite what we had expected having read that there were over 900 on the hill. I thought they would be very spread out but instead turned out to be housed in 3 main complexes all crammed next to one another. We were free to roam at will and had most of the temples completely to ourselves. A friendly official at the bottom had given us the best 3 to see and while I'm sure we didn't look at them all we made a good attempt! The views over the entire hill top was spectacular and stretched to the distant sea. It was only at the main temple where we came across the crowds of pilgrims offering food and sumptuous smelling petal garlands to the various idols. As at Girnar the men wore white robes while the women had on their best saris contrasting nicely with the gleaming marble.

With there being no rest for the wicked we took a 6 hour bus in the afternoon to the capital of Gujert, Ahmedabad. The pollution was horrendous and a walk the following morning did not add any charm to the place, we had only stopped to get on yet another night bus to Aurangebad 18 hours away. Although the longest we had the most comfortable night sleep yet and arrived relatively refreshed. After looking round the dull town, we headed out to the local caves in a posh new rickshaw. Although fairly simple, they were worthwhile too visit and also gave great views over the surroundings and Bibi-ka-Maqbara (the so called "mini Taj") found in the city outskirts. Unfortunately as the evening wore on I felt progressively worse before succumbing to a bout of acute food poisoning, I blame the fried potato things we had at lunch. I'll spare the details, suffice to say that you know its bad when you don't know which end to point at the toilet! Come the morning I was better but too weak to head to the nearby Elora caves, leaving Amy to tag along with a couple from the hotel. Sleeping and rehydration sachets made sure that I was not going to miss out on the Ajanta caves the following day, sharing a taxi there with 4 others to spread the cost. The caves were spectacular, occupying the outside of a beautiful horseshoe gorge cut by the river. The caves themselves were massive Buddhist temples in varying degrees of completion. The finished temples held not only intricate carvings, splendid pillars and giant Buddhas, they were also richly decorated with detailed paintings unlike anything we had seen in any other cave system. Amy correctly told me that it was far better than Elora as we made our way to the railway town of Jalgaon for an early train the next morning.

Too Much of a Good Thing?

2009-12-09T02:31:00.004+13:00

We have been doing a lot of thinking about future plans, even more so now that we have booked our flights to Thailand where we plan to spend Christmas. There are 2 main options, either travel around one or several of the south east Asian countries or head to New Zealand in the new year. By the end of December we will have been on the road for 6 months which is a long time. Thinking back on how much we have done makes us wonder how we have managed to fit it all in! While we have enjoyed India it would be fair to say that we do not love it (or the other extreme, hate it) and we wonder if this is in part because we have become accustomed to chaos and change. Thailand will be our 5th country (6 if you count Tibet as separate) and while they have all been very individual, what does not change is the constant change that you experience when you move on. In its own way this accustoms you to different experiences which would be unique and exciting if they were seen with completely fresh eyes. Instead sites, temples and forts start to merge into one. Do not get me wrong, this is not a complaint about being forced to travel! What we always said from the start though was that we did not want to go somewhere just because it was close and because we felt we should. It would be better to save it for another day, and after all we are also hoping to see a bit of South America on our way back home (whenever that may be!). We have been looking at going to Burma, a place we have had recommended and on doing a little research sounds absolutely fascinating. We shall see and make up our minds once we get to Thailand...

7000 Steps to a Portugese Escape

2009-12-02T21:06:00.006+13:00

A grey scratchy blanket kept us a tad warmer on the following night bus, pulling into the Gujerat town of Rajkot as dawn warmed the sky. We were the only foreigners on the bus, refreshing after India to this point, and once we rescued our bags from belly of the bus a rickshaw took us to the local bus station for the next 3 hour leg with the driver apologising for not speaking better English! 3 people then helped make sure we were on the right bus and sure enough we arrived in Junagadh without a hitch. We hoped everybody was going to be so friendly in Gujerat! The town of Junagadh was not what I expected, a swarming mass of motorbikes and rickshaws that choked the air but there was a good bustling atmosphere and sites worth seeing. First stop was some old Muslim buildings (I forget the name) which were different to anything we had seen in India but also were in a sorry state of repair. While there we ended up being filmed and interviewed by some local journalists who tried their hardest to get us to show our contempt for the corrupt local government who were siphoning off restoration funds. This was of course all news to us but we still managed to attract quite a crown of curious children. Next stop was the massively overgrown and overrated fort before attempting to show interest by visiting the museum. The final excursion involved us getting up at 6am and climbing the 7000 steps to reach the top of the pilgrimage site of mount Girnar. We were joined by hundreds of others and for the whole climb our soundtrack was "Whats your name" and "Which country"! The first exercise in a while was both refreshing and the views worth the effort, the main Jain temple was fantastic with the white clad men and technicolour women forming separate thronging queues to enter.

Next stop was the small island of Diu, a former Portugese colony that was only handed over around 40 years ago. The next 4 days were spent in true holiday mode! Hiring a scooter on the first day we coughed and spluttered our way around the island, a 12 year old boy patched a puncture for 20 Rs, we swimming in the warm waters on a deserted beach all afternoon and finally headed back to a fishing village where we had been invited on a 1 hour trip by the boat electrician. Its a good job he wasn't the captain as we spent a couple of hours drinking tea or being shown around the port because the tide was too low to leave the harbour! As the sun set we made our excuses and headed the 20 minutes back to the hotel while it was still light. The next 3 days were spent swimming and reading under a parasol on a lovely sandy beach shared with at most 4 other people. The occasional local group of boys had to be put up with but they were harmless enough, generally just wanting a photo. Meals were glorious fish dishes and we left feeling well and truly relaxed.

The Name's Bond

2009-11-24T22:43:00.009+13:00

Apart from the fact that the shaking opened the window, blasting us with a jet of cold air every 30 minutes, the 14 hour overnight bus to Udaipur was not as bad as the Shangri-La experience (at least I got a bit of kip!). After then crashing for another couple hours we were treated to a breakfast right on the lakefront overlooking the beautiful city of Udaipur. Having thought that Jaisalmer was a fairytale fort, this is where the princesses would have come from! The Palace Hotel was floating in the clear waters, the hills were shimmering in the distance, the ghats were alive with the sound of clothes being violently beaten clean and the waters were lined with ornate havelis, temples and hotels. A pre-lunch amble confirmed the attraction of the old city, only marginally spoiled by the ridiculous number of rickshaws and cars trying to squeeze through the narrow streets and the tourist hordes adding to the general blockage. Day 2 was for joining the other tourists, we marveled at the Palace, went shopping for "miniature" paintings and then watched the Bond film Octopussy on the roof of a restaurant, spotting all of the places in the city where it was filmed whilst eating pizza! With 4 of us we were then able to hire a car for a day costing a paltry 4 quid each and so were able to take in the more distant sites of Kumbalgarh and Ranakpur. Kumbalgarhfort fort was impressively placed at the summit of a dominating outcrop, the 36km outer wall snaking off into the distance. The whole place was also remarkably empty and in excellent repair. Ranakpur was an excellent contrast, being a group of intricately carved marble Jain temples set in a remote wooded valley. The detail rivaled those of Jaisalmer and the marble must have been much harder to work here compared to the softer sandstone. All in all the day panned out to make a wonderful trip, the car also taking us through valleys and a countryside of small villages, crops drying in fields and cattle driving water collection from deep wells for collection, washing and the irrigation of the lush sugar cane fields.

The Fairytale Fort and Desert Nights

2009-11-22T20:52:00.018+13:00

Next stop Jaisalmer, the bus being luxurious compared to the previous. We were met at the bus station by the hotel, recommended by a couple we had met in Varanasi, and the rooftop yet again provided the most amazing view of the old city and ancient fort towering over the rooftops below and all glowing gold as the sun sunk below the horizon shortly after our arrival. Having booked the required camel safari the following day was free top explore the old town and fort, unique in that it is still home to around 25% of the old cities inhabitants, other forts are all empty. Despite all the hawkers and touts, the narrow streets adorned with the magnificent stonework of old havelis along with the fort itself still appear to have leapt straight from the pages of a medieval fairytale. We had a great time meandering through the lanes of the fort, exploring the magnificent Jain temple complex housed within, and then the old town, somehow managing to find Patwa-ki-Haveli. This huge former home bridges a narrow lane and the stonework detail is unsurpassable. Inside the treat continues with room after room of opulent decoration and furniture giving a real glimpse into the lives of the then rich. The following morning, bright and early we were picked up by 4x4 and whisked to our waiting camels and four guides. Pepsi was to provide my transport for the next 3 days with big Ali, who looked like an India Chuckle Brother, providing the steadying hand on this reluctant, complaining 3 year old. Little Ali was the provider of endless enthusiasm and at 20 had learnt English from his 10 years already spent in the job. Bobby was quiet, smoking endlessly, but very attentive. Ramjan was the final member, the old man at 49, an excellent chef and only member to wear a turban! The first couple of hours were spent wondering how I was going to put up with another 2 and half days on the back of such an uncomfortable beast with its jerking gait but thankfully my legs soon stretched and eased with the final day actually proving the most comfortable. Most of the time was spent crossing flat, baked, rubble strewn plain only interrupted by straggly bushes and a few trees which provided the shade for the much needed lunch stops. To say the landscape was beautiful would be overstating the case but it did have a certain attraction which just about lasted the length of the trip. It was only when we stopped for the two nights that we encountered small strips of sand dunes which were special although tiny in comparison to the dunes of Morocco we have had the privilege of visiting and hardly untouched with footprints snaking over every face. Cooking over an open fire and then sleeping under such a blanket of stars was not bad at all. It is also only during the night that you can appreciate the desert climate as the baking days gave way to the bitter nights of the approaching winter. In all I did enjoy the trip though found it somewhat a contrived tourist experience (though not sure what I expected), always being led and hardly out in the sticks with villagers greeting us every evening with cold coke and beer. Our guides however could not have been better though I think that's me done with camel trekking for the foreseeable future.

The Blue City

2009-11-22T20:38:00.008+13:00

I am very pleased to report, after the disappointment of the pink-more-like-peach city of Jaipur, that the Blue city of Jodhpur is definitely blue! After a rickety 5 hour bus ride all 6 of us arrived in town, our numbers swelling having been joined by Amy's parents and 2 TOLFA volunteers, and a 3 rickshaw convoy soon saw us speeding through the narrow lanes of the old city towards our hotel. We made it without sliding into the shallow open sewers lining every lane and without any head-on collisions and so felt brave enough to head out into the maze on foot. By good fortune more than design we dodged the rickshaws, cows and scooters so ending up at the clock tower, the centre of the old town, and plunged into the bazaar. Escaping that with wallets intact a beer on the rooftop watching the setting sun was perfect relaxation and the first beer since arriving in India. Pushing the boat out completely we then sought out a fantastic meat restaurant to ensure that all cravings were satisfied, Pushkar being both dry and strictly vegetarian. Once we got underway the following morning we did the obligatory tour of the old fort which truly dominates the skyline, the audio tour well worth the listen bringing the place to life. Having then pottered over to the Maharajahs cenotaphs a late lunch was enjoyed before reading and watching the sun again set over the blue cubed city. It is great to be on the road again and Jodhpur an excellent stop. The fort is the best we have seen so far, the old city is exciting, noisy, pretty, dirty and enchanting and the perfect stop to get back into the swing of things.

The Tree of Life and Missing Lake

2009-11-15T00:13:00.023+13:00

Since we left the UK there has only ever been one date that could not be altered, the 18th October was when we were due in Pushkar to start our month volunteering for the charity the Tree of Life for Animals (aka TOLFA). We actually did manage to arrive on that very date, though strictly speaking did not start work until the following day. One month later, believe me that it has flown past, and we are ready to move on to start the next leg of our adventures. For the first week and a bit, there were 8 volunteers and with both Indian vets and a number of other staff on a prolonged Dewali holiday we were all able to be useful, muddling through the list of jobs that needed doing. I generally tucked myself away in theatre, ensuring that plenty of dogs will no longer have a use for their reproductive organs, while Amy tackled the large animal sheds and the dog treatments getting shared around to whoever had time. We found a real mixed bag of cases, from dogs with horrendous chronic mange and maggot infested wounds to adult cows with open fractures of major long bones. I also managed to get bitten on the second day (and again in the last week!), nothing serious but with rabies endemic any broken skin means that top up vaccinations are needed, Amy had to do the honors having bought the vaccine over-the-counter at a small pharmacy. All very different from back home and the big treatment option of euthanasia not a realistic option, especially when considering the holy status of cows and monkeys, killing them punishable by long jail sentences! Having described the worst, there were also plenty of animals who just needed a bit of a holiday, some rest and good grub, before being released back onto the streets. For this first week we muddled through, with the added event being the wedding of the charities founder Rachael to Anu. Having missed her actual wedding date due to visa issues, it ended up that the reception was before the wedding and consisted of people processing past to give gifts and have a photo taken before a huge buffet was served up and the boys got stuck into some seriously competitive dancing! During the camel fair hotel prices sky rocket and we had to move out of Pushkar and into a nearby village as the charity could not cover this increased cost. Moving out to Foy Sagar, on the outskirts of Ajmer, meant that we had no time to wonder around the event of an evening and so all I saw of it was the day spent at the veterinary clinic and we payed to stay an extra night in Pushkar as Sunday was our day off and we wanted to make the most of it. On the plus side we did get a chance to see a bit of rural village life, its amazing how cheap local shops and stalls are, and we were welcomed by the family we were lodging with. Once the vets were back there was unfortunately less reason for the vets to be there. I'm sure the extra hands came in useful but our expertise were certainly not needed as the local vets tended to take over any new case that came in or "suggested" to us how we should do things differently. They did not seem to recognise when our training or experience made us better qualified, nor did they really want to discuss anything. While I am sure the extra hands were a help, I was left with the impression that the donation rather than manpower is what was wanted. There were however positives! The scooter ride to and from the clinic everyday was perhaps the highlight, riding along the quiet road through villages and past villagers carrying loads or herding their goats. Flank spays are now no problem, a technique generally only used in cats back home, and I had plenty of opportunity to carry out other ops including a penis amputation in a dog (don't ask!). I can now also be confident that with time most wounds will heal, though whether owners back home would be willing to wait is a different matter! We also met some great people, the other volunteers were all very enthusiastic and hard working, the staff were good fun and I really enjoyed the lunchtime cricket matches. I also think that the charity does an amazing job that is much needed and that anyone who is so inclined would struggle to find a similar charity that could better use any donation.

And what of Pushkar itself? It is a very tourist orientated place that has resulted in the destruction of the holy feel of the town. Pushkar is after all the home to hundreds of temples and scores of pilgrims do visit to worship and bathe in the lake. That was the other problem of our visit, the lake was dry having been drained for repairs and cleaning at the start of the year but the pathetic monsoon failing to refill its waters. As a result the main beauty of the town was missing though the rooftop view from our hotel in the morning was still very special, especially when the troops of monkeys were leaping from roof to roof! The few days that we were not at the clinic were well spent the first being a scooter ride into the heart of neighbouring Ajmer, parking right at the gate for the most important Muslim pilgrimage site in India. This was equivalent to riding on the pavement of Oxford street , against the flow of traffic during the last minute Christmas rush - not for the faint hearted. Still, no young children were squashed and the town was full of life. Another day scooter ride took us on some seriously rocky tracks into the heart of the countryside to visit some of the many temples and shrines dotting the landscape. It was great to escape the crowds though not sure Deepak, the scooter hire man, would have been too impressed. Another day was simply spent relaxing, drinking chai, reading and sleeping. Hey, we were working so what was wrong with that? The final big event, at least for Amy was the loss of my beard. A cut throat razor making disappointingly light work of my 2 month beard!

Camels Camels Everywhere

2009-11-08T05:00:00.013+13:00

We had timed our stay in Puskar to coincide with the annual camel market and festival, the largest of its kind. The week leading up to the big event saw the participants arrive in large herds, slowly traipsing across the tundra of the desert and providing a more novel form of road obstacle as we zipped to and from the TOLFA clinic on scooters. The trip to the petrol station provided a glimpse as to the size of the newly erected tented village but as darkness came on early we could not explore further in the evenings after work. It was not till the day before the official first day, Sunday and our day off, that we could roam the Mella ground at our leisure. The sight that greeted us was impressive, the number of animals vast. Camels of all ages had arrived from far and wide along with large numbers of both horses and cattle to be sold to dealers that themselves had traveled considerably. What a week before had been nothing but dusty, sandy scrub land was now packed tight with the beasts leaving barely enough space for their current owners to unroll a blanket and brew a much needed chai. This activity is what the event was all about but now it plays just a part. Rusty, ancient fairground rides were being unpacked and put together like giant mechano sets and a plethora of stalls and canteens had created an entirely knew high street in the desert. Quickly stepping from this tourist route we could wind our way through the livestock with no hastle save a few jewelry hawkers from Fatepur Sikri, and witness the preparations as the camels had stray hairs closely trimmed, inspections were made and gossip was exchanged. The activity only increased towards sunset as fires dotted the camp and smoke drifted across the plain with the sun slowly sinking into the horizon.

That was our tourist experience, next was the veterinary one! For one day, by rota, each of the volunteers at TOLFA was sent with a couple of staff members to lend a hand at the Veterinary Camp run by the Jaipur charity Help in Suffering. Despite having little specific knowledge (I must have slept through our camel lecture) what was presented was first aid. Plenty of rub wounds from ill fitting saddles and bridles, infected noses from splintered control pegs, sliced foot pads, maggots and the big one...inappentance. Wounds were cleaned, disinfected, dressed if needed and injections dispensed. Maggots were removed and abscesses flushed. Those with inappetence (usually presented with a mouth full of food!) were dispatched with wormer and a curry powder appetite stimulant. The hardest part of the process was grabbing one of the local staff to act as translater of the problem and then finding them again to explain the treatment to the owner.

The Taj some Twitching and a Jaipur Dewali

2009-10-29T02:22:00.021+13:00

The overnight journey, spent on one of the upper bunks in coach S3 was very pleasant, being rocked to sleep under 3 fans which make a/c at night an unnecessary luxury, and arriving a mere hour late into Agra Fort station. We found our hotel right by the south gate of the famous Taj Mahal, the roof views were as promised though the rest of the building was grubby with surely staff...fine for 1 night. We walked the 100 yards to the entrance and found ourselves face to face with arguably the worlds most iconic building. It was spectacular! The marble gleaming soft impressions of blue to white to gold and the walkways full of excited tourists, colourful Indians and babbling school children. We spent several hours in the buildings presence, admiring its elegance from all angles as well as exploring the two flanking buildings which are sites in their own right. An autorickshaw sped us to Agra's other principle site, the red fort, where we were greeted with the red stone, yet more gleaming marble and superb views of the Taj and adjacent river. The mosque to the north and its associated bazaar were frenetic, the streets gridlocked with pedestrians, but refreshingly hassle free and providing a good lunch break. An early start and another rickshaw hired meant that we could watch the sunrise light up the marble domes from the opposite side of the river, accompanied only by a soldier and young litter of street dogs.

Our early departure from Nepal meant that we had a couple of "spare" days in hand and so the next port of call was Bharatpur, arriving on the bus mid-morning before then retracing our steps by half an hour to see the old ruined city of Fatepur Sikri. We could not avoid a guide for the mosque and its giant entrance gate and marble shrine, and then spent a quiet 2 hours ambling through the empty stone buildings of the royal residence. Definitely not a must see as the guide book had suggested but worth popping into if you happen to have an afternoon free and are in the area! Now the main draw of Baratpur is the national park that is home to rare wetland habitat that draws thousands of migrating birds. This is all well and good but we found out at the guesthouse that there was little of either, that is wetland or birds. The monsoon has been awful for several years now resulting in the conversion of lakes into puddles and the knock-on effect is that the birds have decided to give the place a miss. Still, we had come all this way and so decided that for 6 quid each we really could afford a cycle rickshaw and guide to take us round for 4 hours in the morning (bikes are not currently allowed as the authorities have fallen out with the hire companies!). Eager to see what was on offer I grabbed my bag off the bed to go and watched in horror as my camera performed a perfect pirouette with backward somersault before crashing to the floor, and no there was not a shag pile carpet to cushion the impact. With the lens wobbling on the body and little sign of life you will just have to take my word for it that there were a few birds, though in groups of ones and twos rather than hundreds, the guide and rickshaw wallah did a great job pointing everything out for us, we must have seen at least 25 different avian species and a few mammals to boot including kingfishers, egrets, eagles, parakeets, stalks, woodpeckers, antelope and boar. Again it was not a spectacular as it may have been but we had an excellent morning and it was a relief to escape the bustle of city life for the countryside. We did wonder around the town itself, the streets were bustling with last minute shoppers preparing for the upcoming Dewali festival (think Christmas and New Year rolled into one) with tinsel and twinkling lights strung between the pylons. High spirits were the order of the day with no hassle and plenty of hellos.

A 4 hour bus took us to Jaipur, the southwest point of the "Golden Triangle", the Pink city, and our final stop before starting work in Pushkar. First impressions for me were indifference, apart that is from the amazing guesthouse that we found ourselves in. At the Pearl Palace we felt in luxury at a budget price and a rival to the Jade Emu in Dali and the Outside Inn in Yangshou. Our evening wonder revealed an old city that was more a peach than pink and the buildings we saw nothing spectacular. Amy had a more favourable impression but this is my blog so indifferent it is! What we did find though was a little back street electrical repair shop. I had found that the lens mount of the camera body had come loose with a few screws to tighten. As feared these had threaded and could not be simply tightened but what The repair hero did after putting aside the DVD player he had been fixing was to somehow still secure everything in place so that any movement was tiny. The lens now does not focus 1 in every 10 shots and I am sure the fix will come undone at some stage but at least I do not have to fork out for an upgrade and am back in the land of photography, phew! Our one full day in town and we booked ourselves onto the exhausting 9 hour RTDC coach tour of the local sights, the 5 hour half day we had our eye on was not running. We must have gone to about 9 different forts and temples with 2 separate shop stops thrown in for free. I did not feel there was any absolute standout though Amber fort was impressive but having seen it at the end of the day fatigue had set in. The observatory was also a good distraction with the worlds largest sundial accurate to 2 seconds alongside assorted other contraptions to tell star sign, hemisphere of the sun, month and day. The actual highlight of Jaipur came in the evening when, nestled on the rooftop patio of our guesthouse, we were treated to a megatons worth of fireworks set above the illuminated city center. These continued well into the early hours, earplugs (travel essentials!) ensuring a good nights sleep.

Cremation on the Ganges

2009-10-24T04:59:00.008+13:00

We had chosen a family run guest house right by Assi ghat, the southernmost set of stone steps leading into the river Ganges. For the entire taxi ride, sat in a rusty old Ambassador and weaving between rickshaws, we were being told how dirty and quiet our choice was but how fortunately our very friendly co-driver knew an excellent place we could stay. They seemed perplexed when we insisted on our intended destination and thankfully we had an incredibly friendly welcome which was much needed after our previous 24 hours. What this welcome also meant was that while we were checking in, the father of the house got rather excited by the fact that our surnames were the same, with tradition dictating that a wife takes her husbands name the same in India. This simple detail prompted a long discussion regarding the sanctity of marriage, the difference in Indian and Western courting customs and accepted practice and the caste system as a whole. It was very interesting but all we wanted was a shower after 29 hours sat on some form of transport. We left it until the evening before braving the walk along the river, collapsing for most of the remaining hours of daylight, having heard of the nightly fire ceremony downstream at the main ghat. I have to admit to a twinge of disappointment initially as the riverbank, the supposed center of city life, appeared near enough deserted. This may have had something to do with the complete lack of lighting and this disappointment soon turned to fascination when we came across the diplomatically named "Small Burning Ghat". The small fires were not there to provide warmth but rather contained corpses at varying stages of cremation, the wrapped body (red for a woman, white for a man) clearly visible in some, being licked by flames. A procession arrived soon after us, the male relatives carrying a simple stretcher on their shoulders supporting the deceased draped in ornate fabrics. No women were present which we later learnt was due to the habit of jumping onto the pyre to join their husband or son. After arriving the procession moved into the water, the holy Ganges washing any sin from the corpse, and then placed the stretcher by the waiting pyre and uncovering the face of their relative. At this point the body appeared to be left, ignored for around 5 minutes though I did not watch whet the living were doing. After being placed on the wooden platform the entire body, save a loin cloth, was exposed to allow a final blessing or offering of oil and dyes. The entire affair is orchestrated by members of the "untouchable" caste, the lowest of all, whose responsibility it is to construct the pyres and manage the burning. We also learnt that anyone not able to afford the wood for the cremation may use leftovers from others or be content with the much cheaper government electric cremation service which is however very much frowned upon. It is possible that death is the final major taboo in western society, hidden as it is from everyday life. Watching the process in the gloaming on the banks of such a mighty river felt incredibly voyeuristic, uncomfortable and intrusive yet at the same time was fascinating and difficult to drag your eyes away from the events as they unfolded. What would be an intensely private affair back home was very much an everyday spectacle here and we were not given a second glance. This final stage in a persons life is only one part of a bigger picture in Varanasi, a city where death is ever present. Not only does the Gange purify the soul (a great irony given the level of pollution including excrement and ridiculously high levels of heavy metals), it is also believed that anyone who dies in Varanasi immediately gains enlightenment and therefor escapes the cycle of rebirth. What this means in practice is that many of the countries elderly travel great distances to live out their final days on the streets or in shelters simply waiting for death. After all this the fire ceremony was lively, loud and very busy with hordes of tourists and the devout crowding the banks and river itself in wooden row boats of all sizes.

A much needed lie-in was the order for the first morning and so fully rejuvenated we again wondered along the slightly busier ghats and into the maze of alleys that make up the labyrinthine old town. Needless to say we did not find the temples and mosque that were marked on the map but are banned to foreigners anyway. We retreated from the heat of the day before meandering to the nearby monkey temple and 2 others whose name I forget. After the beauty of the Buddhist monasteries the Hindu buildings of worship are rather plain but interesting places for people watching being very much sites of active daily worship. Ignoring the complaints of the shoe keepers for not giving 10 rupees/pair we failed to avoid getting ourselves "dotted" on the forehead with red dye. A trip to Varanasi is not complete without a morning boat trip to view the glorious sunrise illuminating the ghats and the thousands of locals in golden light. The swarming masses were busy washing body, teeth and clothes, praying silently while cupping the sacred water, cleansing the spirit with repeat submersion (the women fully clothed, the med in loin clothes); and all this accompanied by general chit-chat, news and rumour gathering. It is during the cooler hours of morning and preceeding sunset that the river is at its most lively with the 2 hours flying by. Amy decided to spend the rest of the day at the guesthouse, having broken her longest illness-free period since arriving in Beijing, and so I took myself off to the holy site of Sarnath, the location of Buddas first teaching. Hiring a rickshaw for the round trip I found myself racing along the streets to an Indian Bollywood soundtrack, my boy-racer driver having installed a large speaker on the back shelf. While the ruins were pleasant enough with only a single large stupa still standing, of more interest was the Jain temple and the desciple there who was more than happy to sit and explain the nature of the religion with its naked gurus who sweep the way before every step and never wash so as not to kill even the smallest bacteria. Having more or less recovered by the following morning Amy and I were both set for the overnight train to Agra which allowed the day for relaxation and getting lost in the streets adjacent to the river.

Border Towns, Crooks and Transport

2009-10-22T04:28:00.006+13:00

A 9 hour bus journey took us to the border with India, which we crossed in rickshaw without any problem. A little bit on the tired side and guards down we were then sitting ducks. After buying our bus ticket for the onward leg we then took up the offer of booking tickets the night train to Varanasi from Gorakpur. Looking back, we probably ended up paying 4 times more than needed but we only twigged after the money had changed hands and from that point there was no going back even though it then took someone 15 minutes to arrive with the printed e-ticket. We were then followed onto the bus by a nasty piece of work who demanded an extra extortionate government and baggage fee and became very aggressive when we refused, continually pushing me and jabbing at my arm. Quite how he would have carried out any of the threats, including keeping our luggage, I don't know but with the driver and a bus full of locals looking on passively it was easier to pay what amounted to around 10 quid than risk any escalation. The bus journey was then spent fuming at both the thieving robbing bastards but also at myself for getting drawn in to what was an eminently avoidable situation. Still, it was our first incident to date and you have to be prepared to take the rough with the smooth, especially when any monetary loss is fairly insignificant (though a little goes a very long way). It also did little to lessen my general hatred of border towns. Arriving at Gorakpur station we thankfully found out that our ticket was valid (otherwise would have added insult to injury) and after a tasty local thali we proceeded to wait for 3 hours on the platform, insects swarming around every light making it anything but pleasant. The train, 2nd class sleeper, was surprisingly pleasant allowing a much needed sleep after traveling for 18 hour though it was delayed by an hour before leaving and then arrived the following morning 4 hours late in what should have been a 7 hour journey. We had however arrived in Varanasi.

Welcome to the Jungle

2009-10-21T03:41:00.013+13:00

For our final final day in Kathmandu we washed our trekking clothes (much needed) and headed to see the Monkey Temple which provided nice views over the city with the resident monkeys providing additional entertainment. I could then put off my first hair cut no longer and was ushered into the most narrow booth imaginable by the elderly barber. Brandishing the largest pair of metal shears the city could provide he proceeded to lop off handfuls of hair. I started to worry when halfway through he reached for a pair of glasses but after the cut-throat razor had tidied up the edges I emerged both looking smarter and unscathed! The tourist bus that took us to Chitwan National Park was a much more comfortable affair and after avoiding the elephants lumbering down the street we booked our activities for the following couple of days. We were up early to start a day and a half jungle walk, accompanied by 2 guides each armed with trusty bits of hardened bamboo. A dug out canoe took us down river for an hour before dropping us off. We were given a safety briefing: "If rhino climb tree at least 7 foot or hide behind. If no tree then run zig-zag very fast. If bear no climb tree or run. Get in big group and make much noise and shouting. If tiger, get in big group, stare in eyes, slowly back away, say "Namaste" and continue walk". After such an inspiring introduction we were quite happy not to see anything larger than an insect for the first few hours. After 4 hours fighting our way through 20 foot elephant grass we emerged by the river to see a crocodile, the bizarre looking Gharial, and get a chance to remove some of the many leaches. I ended up with 10 in total com paired to Amy's none! Our first "proper" animal spotted and we were on a role coming across a 1 horned Indian Rhino cooling down in a small stream, a troupe of Langur monkeys swinging in the treetops and then breaking for lunch in a spotting tower. It was here that we were privileged to see 3 more rhinos, including one of around 18 months, grazing on the long grass. We were able to creep up fairly close to appreciate the size of these prehistoric animals, made even more exciting by being on foot. The rest of the walk was more of the same with dense jungle vegetation interspersed with regular sightings of monkey, deer and a plethora of bird life to give us a fantastic experience. Our final stop was at the elephant breeding centre whose current main draw is the 11 month old twins, only the 4th known to be born, which certainly seemed to be double the trouble. The afternoon of our return we took to elephant back for a two hour amble through the forest where we were able to get unbelievably close to more rhino and deer, all animals ignoring our presence, though it did not have quite the excitement of walking. Our 3rd and final day in the area was spent relaxing, but not before we joined in with the daily elephant bathing. This mostly involved sitting on its back while being hosed with trunk-fulls of wonderfully cool river water on voice command of the trainer. We had intended to do a 4 day beginner kayaking course in Pokara but having got the bus there the heavens promptly opened, giving us our first full days rain since we left the UK, the rivers rose and it was decided that the rivers had become a bit too wild to run the course. Rather than stick around, we headed for India to give us a few extra days before starting work in Pushkar.

Langtang Trekking

2009-10-12T01:48:00.012+13:00

After a bit of an ordeal finding our bus we still managed to get seats and then commenced the most uncomfortable journey in memory. For 9 hours, with knees jammed tight against the chair in-front, we were thrown around, jolted and jarred as a result of the incredibly twisty roads that in places were no more than what would be 4x4 tracks back home. Surviving all this along with the plummeting drops we escaped with no more than incredibly bruised knees and behinds finally arriving at the trail head of Sebrabessi. My first ever Dal Bhaat went down very well indeed. A simple dish of rice, dal, veg curry and pickle became our main diet for the following 6 days, though what I failed to realise at first was that having wolfed down my first plate every dish was then replenished and not wanting to be rude this was promptly finished too. our first day on the Langtang trail involved a pleasant tramp through lush woodland, following a raging river, which we appreciated all the more for travelling light with our packs being at most 30 liters. As light was provided that night by a dim, battery operated bulb we turned in at 8pm and the following day we made it to the last settlement, cutting a day off the walk up and providing us with extra time at the top among the big peaks. that day itself was long with cloud obscuring any view but we had a few interesting encounters with local villagers and Amy painted a sign for a family starting a new tea shop. Day 3 and our porridge ordered the night before was ready at 6:30 on the dot and so we by 7am we were out and walking up the valley. Our goal was a place called Langshesha Kaka and after leaving the weather cleared to provide the most glorious walk through grass plains, across crystal clear melt water streams all with the backdrop of deep blue skies and towering snow-capped peaks. 4 hour later, and with no company other than the grazing yak and several horses, we arrived at our destination which was the most amazing setting for a sit down with a (rather small) cheese sandwich. We did not tire of the view on the way back either but after walking for 8 hours, covering 25 km at over 4000m we were rather tired! We were up and off 15 minutes earlier the following day, aiming for a peak of 4773m just behind Kyanjin Gompa though we lost the path fairly early (possibly straight away) and ended up heading straight up a grass slope of at least 50 degrees, often involving some rather exciting scrambling. Still, with hearts in mouths we made the top of a smaller peak and were then able to skirt around a horse-shoe ridge to reach the proper high point. We were rewarded with sweeping vistas of the mountains near and far and were especially close to a couple of retreating glaciers. The difference in elevation from the start of the trail was 3313m and this summit represented the highest I had ever walked to (driving to 5150m at Everest base camp is the highest ever point). From the top we started the descent, taking 3 days rather than rushing to do it in 2. The cloud did lift for us on the way down so we saw views that had previously been hidden and for the final day we took the alternative high path which was not only more interesting but also provided more wildlife. We were fortunate enough to spot a large troop of Rhesus Macaques, the large male sitting in the open feeding while the younger members frolicked in the trees and undergrowth nearby. Amy also spotted a brown bear having heard some rustling in the undergrowth nearby, as it came closer both parties ended up running in opposite directions while I was in front oblivious. The journey back to the capitol was no better for although there was slightly more leg room it appeared that half of Nepal was on the move with every available inch of room taken up both inside the isle and on the roof of the bus. Still we survived and headed straight out for a steak after spending a week of enforced vegetarianism.

Welcome to Kathmandu

2009-10-12T01:13:00.010+13:00

From the moment we crossed that line on the bridge and entered Nepal everything changed. Gone was the ordered formal nature of the Chinese post a mere 30 feet away. This instead was replaced with chaos, possibly ordered chaos but that was not immediately apparent. We bought our visas in a small hut having convinced ourselves that having walked down an entire street of shops and grotty canteens that we must have somehow skipped any formalities. The smallest sign gave the game away and so $40 and 1 temperature reading later (swine flu is obviously still felt a possible threat) we had visas and were off. The buses and trucks had developed a technicolour array of designs with slogans such as "Speed Control", "Say no to drugs - Say yes to life" and "Press Horn". Faces had almost instantly darkened and rather than round had become much longer, combined with the bright clothing the feeling was definitely more of the subcontinent and India rather than the Tibetan Plateau and north-east Asia. It was dirty, hot rowdy and exciting though the border town crooks were still present, latching on like limpets to us the moment we stepped across. The tourist bus was too expensive and so after 4 hours of winding dirt roads, picking up and depositing people and their produce at the tiny settlements along the way, we changed onto another bus for another 4 hours to arrive, eventually, in Kathmandu. We had opted for a quieter district, though barely a 5 minute walk from the main backpacker haunt of Thammel, and after checking in headed out into the oasis of western restaurants and bars. Combined with all of the English signs and no problems with language it felt like being back at home, a bit. Unfortunately that night failed to provide the rest needed with the bed turning out to be the smallest in the world at around 5 1/2 foot with a massive foot-board making stretching out impossible. We moved up the road in the morning and confronted our day of jobs, backing up photos, emailing, researching our options for trekking and rafting and other such delights. Amy also had an appointment with the dentist at 2:30 (which she did not see the funny side of) as her wisdom tooth had been causing problems for the preceding week. I saw her a couple of hours later, mouth all numb, with the US dentist having removed the offending tooth. She then had to endure the sight of me eating steak and chips while sticking to tomato soup herself. Our last day before hitting the trails to the north meant that we had to get our permits and bus ticket before we could actually get around to seeing some of the city itself. We roamed the local streets before arriving at Durbar Square, a place Mum had mentioned the previous night on the phone she had been during her travelling days (I wont say when!). Apart from the traffic now racing through I cant imagine much has changed with daily life carrying on seemingly oblivious to the ancient monuments, statues and altars at every turn. The bustle was immense and the feel was definitely of an ancient culture living in the present.. We indulged ourselves in 1 last western meal before hitting the hills of Langtang the following morning at a bleary-eyed 6am.

China - Final Thoughts

2009-10-07T03:48:00.019+13:00

As with Mongolia I feel it is only right to put down some of my overall thoughts on China so as to clarify things in my own mind. Although I may not have realised it before, I think that I arrived in Beijing with many preconceptions about the country and its people largely based I imagine on the known human rights abuses, the whole subject of Tibet and the general negative press the country receives (or certainly used to get). I would not go so far as to say that all these preconceptions were proved wrong, far from it in fact, but in all I was pleasantly surprised especially with the general man-on-the-street (or in the paddy field!). Far from being rude and unhelpful, shoving and spitting, suspicious and grumpy; almost without exception we were greeted with smiling faces of people who were more than willing to help if needed or just to show interest in our travels so far. This ranged from waitresses patiently trying to understand any request that could not be made by simply pointing, people ensuring we got on the right bus and our luggage was securely stowed to hostel staff checking time and again we had all the information we needed. Amy's efforts at Mandarin really paid off as time and again a few words of conversation broke the ice or elicited a smile making the interaction and experience that much more rewarding. Getting around was also not the logistical or bureaucratic nightmare feared with an excellent infrastructure that was easy to navigate. The sights that we sought out were generally more than worth the effort, both man-made and natural, often exceeding any expectations. The one factor here however was the shear number of domestic tourists that poured through the gates having been delivered by the many tour buses. China's middle class population is growing larger and they appear eager to discover their countries history and all it has to offer. While we would happily go back to many places (most notably Yangshou, north Yunnan and Tibet）we also missed so much from the tea houses of Sichuan, the old silk road, the Muslim north-west, the bright lights of the east coast and Hong Kong to the pandas and the holy peaks. It is one big country!

From a purely observational standpoint the modernisation and development of China that we saw was fascinating. The big cities house financial and business districts of high-rise skylines and shopping centers so familiar in the developed west yet on the other hand more people travel using 2 wheels under their own power than by 4. Tiny shops and street stalls rule over any attempt at supermarkets and the ancient residential areas have, for the moment, survived demolition and modernisation. Such contrasts appear everywhere: a "communist" leadership ruling a population enthusiastically embracing consumerism with more than one person we spoke to openly critical of the ruling elite, the most upmarket cars crawling alongside rickshaws and hand-pushed carts, swanky restaurants with uniformed staff alongside hole-in-the-wall snack stalls and filthy canteens, mobile phone wielding youth alongside their parents in traditional dress.

It is hard however not to have all thoughts of China tarnished by what we saw and heard in Tibet. It is important to remember that the actions of a dictatorship power may not reflect the true feelings and desires of the population as a whole but when faced with streets full of fresh-faced Han Chinese soldiers and such obvious resentment expressed by the indigenous peoples it is a difficult concept to always keep in mind. Businesses appear for the most part to be Chinese owned, restrictions on the Tibetan way of life appear significant with penalties severe and more than one Tibetan we spoke to expressed the sentiment that times were scary. We even encountered one old lady who openly and enthusiastically expressed her gratitude to us for employing a Tibetan guide, all this in front of passing soldiers (though I doubt they speak a word of Tibetan). I will admit that we arrived with a biased view and any encounters were bound to result in a further polarisation as we did not seek out any Chinese viewpoints. I am sure the majority of Chinese in Tibet moved simply for a better life for themselves and their family and I imagine that there has been a significant improvement in infrastructure and services such as education and health but these alone do little to justify the so-called "peaceful liberation" and continuing occupation. The issues are complex and I would not claim to understand even a fraction. As for solutions, I imagine it will become increasingly difficult for the Peoples Republic of China to maintain the status quo as they become increasingly involved on the world stage. I hope one day we will have an opportunity to return to the Tibetan Plateau without any restrictions and once independence has been achieved.

It is an interesting time for China and although our stay was relatively brief and travels could hardly be classed as extensive some interesting questions were thrown up none-the-less. Who knows what the future will hold but whether it be success, failure or collapse it is likely that we will all be affected.

The Rocky Road to Everest and Nepal

2009-10-02T00:25:00.021+13:00

The morning of the 17th, our 5th in Tibet, we met our new guide and driver and set off towards Nepal, with some important stops along the way. Heading up our first pass, just before arriving at lake (cant remember the name and not written in my diary!), our driver decided he was a direct rival to the Formula One crown, racing around the hairpin loops to the sound of screeching tires. This was only marginally more terrifying than being cut up by a van he had been racing which nearly sent us tumbling down the mountain-side. After he had had a heated argument with the driver of said van and we all insisted he slow down things became far more relaxed, at least on the driving side of things. The lake was a fantastic turquoise with snow-capped mountains rising up in the distance (or snow mountain as our guide insisted calling every such peak). The next pass took us to an altitude of 5020m and brought us face to face with my first glacier. Set against the deep blue sky it looked amazing. We then checked our itinerary with our guide as we were a little unclear as to how the 4 days would pan out based on what he had been saying. We found out things were very much confused, it appears no homework had been done on his account, and after some heated discussion we ironed out a working plan. Passing through the town of Ghiatse, we had no time to stop on this whistle stop section, we arrived in the poor, dirty city of Shigatse where we walked up to the old palace for sunset. The next morning, while our hapless guide was collecting permits, we set off for the monastery that is home to the Panchen Lama. His is a sad story that is best read elsewhere but the current Chinese chosen incarnate was arriving in town from his usual Beijing address and so the site was off-limits. As compensation we did see him for around 2 seconds, giving a royal wave as his motorcade drove through the gates. Permits obtained we set off down the friendship highway for Everest base camp. The road has been improved over the last year and so a relatively quick 4 hours later we arrived at the national park ticket office. Our problems began again with our hapless guide expecting us to pay for the car and him which we had specifically been told we would not have to do. 30 minutes and a few heated exchanges later he sorted things out over the phone and we were on our way, though our trust in his guiding/organisation was now gone. The road became an unsealed 4x4 track and we threaded our way through the spectacular landsape that faced us. We passed small villages in the process of harvesting the crop that they manage to tease from the land before arriving at Rongbuk monastery overlooking a perfectly clear mountain for sunset. We all felt very lucky to have reached our destination in time for a sunset that was very special, especially as the clouds often roll in to obscure the view in the afternoon. We spent the evening in a large felt tent at the mountains foot, the stars came out and we had a good nights sleep despite the altitude of 5150m. Again we were treated to clear skies at sunrise and we headed the short distance to base camp. For some reasom we did not have a permit to enter the camp but walked as close as we could without being stopped by the army. The sight of the mountain certainly lived up to all expectations but we had to leave and so around 11am we wondered around the monastery we had passed the evening before before taking a very rough track back to the main road. We were heading for the border with Nepal though we could not quite understand why we appeared to be losing a day. Our guide insisted that a section of road was only open after 7pm every evening and that was the reason for the rush though he also mentioned his need to be back in Lhasa to pick up a group the morning after our trip was supposed to end. Having lost all trust in him we were all very sceptical though his story did turn out to be true. The border town was a dirty, stinking place and after the night there we crossed the red line on the Friendship Bridge (an irony given the presence of so many armed soldiers) and entered Nepal at 10am on the 20th September.

Around Lhasa - Ganden and Sera Monasteries

2009-10-01T23:57:00.015+13:00

We were keen to see some of the surrounding sites, not just restricting the 4 days based in Lhasa to the city itself, and so on our 3rd day we had a day trip to Ganden monastery about 45 km out of town. It is set high on a hill top in a natural amphitheatre with beautiful views over the surrounding countryside. We really felt the benefit of traveling with a couple of journalists (though our American companions were calling themselves teachers for the duration of Tibet) as we spoke to several people who answered questions we would not have asked ourselves. They were understandably reluctant to answer several more probing questions about the government and current situation for those following their way of life but we were left in no doubt that the clamp down after the protests in 2008 was severe with hundreds of arrests and many new rules brought in, perhaps the most extreme being that it is currently not possible for any budding monk to join a monastery, they must instead simple practice their religion at home. We also learnt of the huge police and army presence ant this one monastery alone with there being 200 to 500 soldiers and police resident at any time. This number is in comparison to the 300 monks that live in the complex which once housed around 3000. The other "big brother" fact we learnt is that at the sites in Lhasa plain clothes police often follow guides to ensure that the so-called correct version of history if being told and to add to the risk of any slip-of-the-tongue many of the city monks are actually Chinese with little interest in religion but instead have a role of reporting any such issues (from guides or fellow monks) to the relevant authorities. All this information simply added to the sense of injustice about this area and gave us a good understanding about why some of the facts we had been told contradicted our other sources of information. All in all our visit was not only interesting but the monastery and surroundings were beautiful making the site worthwhile in its own right. (our companions articles can be found here and here)

our final day in Lhasa, after rising early to photograph the sunrise over the Potala, was spent first at the free (cost) Tibetan Museum which housed some interesting exhibits and propaganda before heading to Sera monastery on the city outskirts in the afternoon. Here the monks gather every afternoon to hold lively debating sessions on the finer points of their faith. It was heated but all very good natured with monks gathering in groups of 2 to 4 and every question or answer accompanied by an elaborate hand slap and arm point. there was a large number of tourists gathered around the courtyard to watch these antics though it was still a good spectacle to witness. In the evening we had dinner with our guide before she left us after an amazing 4 days, some of the best of our trip so far.

Journey to the Roof of the World

2009-10-01T00:55:00.010+13:00

To our relief "Shady Guy" turned up at the designated car park at the designated time and we all jumped into a couple of taxis to get to the airport. Mr Shady then checked our bags in for us (not worrying about "did you pack this bag yourself sir?") and the painful moment came where we handed over 11000 Yen (or one thousand one hundred pounds!) in cash to a person we were never going to see again. Let me tell you that it makes a rather large wad of 100 Yen notes! The flight to Lhasa was short with beautiful snow-capped mountains poking through the clouds making for good in-flight entertainment. We were met straight away by our Tibetan guide and for the 90 minute drive into to the capital she made us feel very welcome and gave us some god background history. After checking in, the first job was to buy the entry tickets for the Potala Palace which can only be bought 24 hours in advance (no sooner or later). First impressions on seeing the palace were of this amazing structure gleaming red, white and gold, set against a perfect blue sky and towering over the city with its mountainous backdrop. Rather special! We then visited the Jokhang Monastery in the heart of the old city and the holiest building in Tibet. Outside it is nothing to special but inside is a different story. For me, the dark atmosphere, smell of incense and butter lamps, worn wooden columns and multitude of relics and paintings all added up to produce an aura of spirituality, devotion and peace unlike anywhere I have been before. All sounding a bit hippy I know but it made an impression! Our guide helped by explaining many of the images and statues though at times her history did appear to contradict what was written in our guidebook and what we held as more common knowledge about the cultural revolution. Having a guide however did bring the place to life more than wondering around by ourselves as we did in so many Mongolian monasteries, and did much to improve our knowledge and understanding of Buddhism as a whole. In the evening we walked the Barkhor circuit, the route around the Jokhang used by pilgrims, joined by not just the devout but also the army patrols kitted out in full riot gear (helmet, shield, shin guards) and armed with batons and rubber bullet guns. These patrols were in addition to the guard posts set out at regular intervals and the soldiers posted on roofs and balconies. It all gave the impression of an occupying force rather than the peaceful liberators that they would have us believe. What an introduction to Tibet our first day proved to be!

Day 2 and our morning was free to do a bit more exploring. We again wondered around the old town though this time all the shops and stall fronts were in full swing and full of goods ranging from hanging yak meat (which looked fresh and the head under the table confirmed the animal of origin) to prayer flags to jewelry and other trinkets. We first allowed ourselves to be swept along with the masses clockwise, spinning their prayer wheels, fingering strings of beads and uttering mantras before then exploring the Muslim area and back alleys of this ancient city. In the afternoon we all met up to visit the Potala Palace. We saw the current Dalai Lamas throne room and living quarters (which looked familiar from our pre-travel viewing of 7 years in Tibet), the elaborate gold stupas which house the skin of previous incarnations, the insides get burnt, along with many smaller chapels and rooms. The whole visit was a bit rushed as we found out afterwards that if any visitor is inside for more than an hour their guide is fined a massive 1000 yen (100 pounds) which is just absurd and goes to show just how difficult the government is trying to make travel into this area. Still, the hour that we did have was very interesting and not one that we would have missed.

A Shangri La Tibetan Introduction

2009-09-22T18:33:00.006+12:00

Having passing the mile long queue of coaches packed with Chinese tourists who never make it passed the upper gorge and returned to Shangri La , where our flight to Lhasa was leaving, we had a day free. We decided to hire some bikes and have a little pedal around the countryside. We headed north to a shallow lake passing small villages with the harvest in full swing and the hay drying in huge wooden racks, herds of yak grazing on the plain, beautiful mountain peaks and we decided that we could easily have spent another week exploring the surrounding area and hiking the high mountains further north.
I should really explain the title of this post. As Tibet has been subject to so much intrusion by the Chinese government and there is such a high military and police presence, some people say that areas that are now outside the current Tibetan Autonomous Region (as it is now called) but were included in what was the kingdom of Tibet are actually the areas where Tibetan culture and lifestyle has remained mostly untouched. Shangri La and the whole of north Yunnan province I believe can be included in this category. How much that is true or not is impossible for me to say but it does make for an interesting sub-note to the whole Tibetan saga.

Tiger Leaping Gorge

2009-09-22T18:13:00.010+12:00

The following day we had another early start to catch the bus to the start of a 2 day track through Tiger Leaping gorge, apparently the deepest in the world. The weather was amazing and the walk was refreshingly along a dirt path, not a paving slab in site unlike all our other walks so far. We made it up the infamous 28 bends without too much problem and were rewarded with fantastic views over the high peaks and down the river as the valley started to constrict. The first night was spent in the comfortable Tea Horse guest house after a mere 4 hours walking and the following day was a gentle 4 hours downhill to reach Seans Guesthouse that was established in 1983 and was the first in the gorge. We then beat our way through the undergrowth to make it down to the waters edge but then had a 45 minute near vertical climb to get back up, trying to avoid all the spiders too. Having a few days in hand we spent an extra day walking up to the bamboo forest and then down to the river (again!) at the middle gorge where the walls are vertical and at their most narrow. The middle gorge return involved a rather hairy climb up several old and rusty looking ladders but we made it without plummeting back down, though nerves were a little shaken.

The Non-Sleeper Bus and Shangri La

2009-09-22T17:44:00.007+12:00

As journeys go, the overnight bus to Shangri La has to rank up there as one of the worst. The bus consisted of bunks of "beds" which were more like sun loungers but with no room to stretch your legs out unless you happen to be under 5 foot. Within 5 minutes I had vowed that I would never subject myself to the contortion required for any degree of comfort (and I use that term lightly) to be achieved. After barely a snooze we arrived at our destination at the ridiculous time of 4am where we caught a cab to our booked hostel. Of course no-one was up at such a god forsaken hour and being unable to wake anyone and no other hotels showing sign of life we resorted to putting on all our warm gear, for the temperature had dropped now we were above 3000m, and lying out on the benches outside tramp style! A breakfast of spicy noodles went some way to revive our spirits and we hit the travel agents to try and sort out our Tibet leg. Having established that no-one would sell us just a flight and permit alone we were lucky enough to bump into 2 American journalists, Claire and Stephen, who were looking for another couple to share a trip from Lhasa to the Nepalese border. We had initially hoped to travel the whole way overland but that was going to be cripplingly expensive and so we agreed to hook up with them for the trip. We were especially fortunate as they had already spent a week looking for travel companions and we were in our first day! After checking a few companies for final quotes we ended up booking an 8 day trip with a character our American friends had already dubbed "Shady Guy". Having ticked our job bow the afternoon was spent relaxing in the old town (that has just been either renovated or built from scratch) and then watching the locals, young and old, dancing in the square.

Kunming and Dali

2009-09-06T20:03:00.002+12:00

We were lucky leaving Xijiang getting a bus to Kaili and then an immediate connection to the city of Guiyang where we then got a hard sleeper train to Kunming, the capital of Yunnan province. We found a clean modern city with wide streets and plenty going on but little in the way of real attractions. In other words a good place to spend a couple of days but no more. The first day we took 3 buses and then walked up the Western hills, just outside the city, to see the Dragon Gate. This is a complex of steps, tunnels, lookouts and altars carved out of the shear cliff face itself; all very impressive. Our next day was spent just wondering the streets and markets of the city which were nice but we have had enough of big cities in this country and looking forward to heading to the hills. An 8 hour bus took us to Dali, a bit higher at around 2000m, a real foreign backpacker haven full of pubs, steak/burger/pizza restaurants and old ladies in traditional dress asking if we "smoka ganja?" Our first full day was spent again walking the hills just to the west of town. A chairlift up and down took out the exercise component and the entire 12km walk was paved though the heart did start beating a bit faster at the dragon-eye cave where we had to inch our way along a narrow, wet shelf of rock no more than a foot wide with a 200m drop below and no barrier. It may not sound bad but it was interesting! Today (yes, I am actually bringing the blog completely up-to-date!) we had a little cycle to the lake and are now spending the afternoon relaxing before catching a sleeper bus tonight to get to Shangri-la where we hope to organise our onward travel to Tibet before backtracking a tiny bit to trek Tiger Leaping Gorge.

The Road to Kaili

2009-09-06T19:40:00.002+12:00

The first stop from Guilin was back to Sanjiang on a road that we had travelled twice already, we were hoping this was the last time! The following day we found out there were no buses to Zoaxing, our next intended stop but a lady at the bus station managed to get across a way to get to another village involving 2 changes of transport. We headed on our way and at the first change actually found a bus to Zoaxing so we arrived mid-afternoon in this pretty Dong village with multiple drum towers, wood houses and surrounding paddy fields. While it was undeniably attractive at present, the whole town was being renovated to make it more tourist friendly and I could not help but think that the result may be a sterilisation and loss of the character that makes it appealing in the first place. Still we had a good wonder around but then ended the day with our worst meal yet in China, a spicy chicken dish without the spice (or flavour!). The following day was a story of sitting on a bus. After 4 hours we arrived at Ronjiang but saw no sign of anything attractive and no sign of the Sunday market so the decision was made to press on to Kaili, a supposed 5 hours away. Well, it was more like 7 hours but the rode wound through and over some absolutely spectacular mountain scenery with the high passes providing spectacular view of the mountains, the villages of wooden dwellings and their associated terraced fields clinging to the steep, forested slopes. Kaili itself is a typical sprawling urban affair with no reason to spend any real time so the following morning we went to the Maoi village of Xijiang on the advice of a tourist agent. Disappointment set in early with a 60 yen fee just to get into the village. When we then wondered around we found a tourist village, what we feared Zoaxing will become! It was pretty but too neat, too tidy and not enough "real life" going on to back up the superficial visual appeal. Still, making the best of a bad situation we had a couple of good walks around the fields and over the hills, managing to escape from the Chinese tourists. Our stay in Xijiang convinced us that we had had enough of villages full of wooden houses and so rather than visit any more thought it best to push on to Yunnan Provence.

I'm sick, get me out of here!

2009-09-01T21:09:00.001+12:00

On leaving Ping An for Chengyang we were both struck down. I tried to faint on the 2nd of the 3 buses but Amy kept me going with rehydration sachets and paracetamol getting us to our destination. I was then laid up in bed for the next36 hours with a high temperature (peaking around 38.6 deg C) and a rather dodgy stomach but I'll spare you the detail. As soon as I was improving Amy decided she did not want to be left out and started to be sick, unable to keep anything down for around 48hrs prompting a request to see a doctor. We had spent 3 full days in the village but had each only managed a 2 or 3 hour wonder of its lanes and surroundings. A 4 hour taxi ride took us back to Guilin to the nearest English speaking doctor in the Peoples Hospital. We found our way to the foreigners clinic on the 3rd floor where a nurse took Amy's BP and then temperature. At this she rushed off only to come back in gown, gloves, mask and goggles saying there was a slight fever and it could be swine flu! We were then escorted to the isolation area where, after an hour wait, we managed to get across that we had been in China and Mongolia for the last 2 months, countries which are both free from disease. This seemed to persuade them, especially when there was no fever on the second taking of the temperature! After all this nonsense we eventually saw a doctor who took a full and thorough history basically finding that Amy was feeling a bit better and had not been sick for the last 8 hours. He seemed a bit confused at what we were doing in front of him but dispensed some anti-sickness drugs and sent us on our way. We stuck around Guilin for a few days to recover our strength in a comfortable air-conditioned room before trying to make our may to Kaili...again.