Wednesday 13 February 2008
77 Day: Saturday 8th December: Kings Canyon - Uluru
Once again original record lost and will have to be rewritten later.
76 Day: Friday 7th December: Alice Springs - Kings Canyon
We were changing buses today for one which hopefully has air con that works. After unloading everything onto the grass we set of into Alice. Had to buy our seventh camera simcard and found a photography shop quite easily but gasped at the price, £20 for a 2gb Sandisk. This is £14 more than at 7dayshop.com. Oz is not cheap. Bought yet another hat putting me in brother-in-law John’s class. I now have my Arab headset/ scarf from Istanbul, Afghanistan hat from Bilal in Pakistan, Tibetan from the refuge in Darjeeling India, an Australian baseball and now a white, straw fedora.
To be continued.
To be continued.
75 Day: Thursday 6th December: Daly Water - Alice Springs
The air con in the backpacker room was a complete failure and I regained consciousness in a pool of my own juices. The heat and humidity were unbearable. Much more so than anywhere else we've been to.
The journey to Alice started at 7.30am and it was already causing me to meltdown. Also learned my first important lesson on survival. Went to the loo and as I turned and flushed it a two to three inch long jet black beetle crawled out and fell into the bowl. No problem but it could quite easily have been a Redback. From now on I always lift the toilet seat before sitting.
Within 30 minutes of driving south the scenery changed from tall trees and quite lush terraine to shrubby bushes and arid, semi desert. Hopefully the,however, the humidity levels will fall.
Had a picnic lunch at Mary Ann Dam on route. All went for a swim but the water was smelled of earth like a
Alice was a surprise to me, I expected a cross road with a bar and general store, horses and big rough looking, always fighting, comic book residents. In reality it's a town of 22,000 with modern shops and bars etc. We were camping 20 minutes outside the centre of town on the Stuart Caravan Park, so named because of its' proximity to the Stuart Highway the single road stretching from Darwin to Adelaide some 3800 kilometres . Once again the choice was between swags or small tents. Anne decided to go for the tent and avoid insects round her face. I would have gone for the swag, if I snore half as loud as she says no selfrespecting fly would come near me. We arrived latish and got the tent up in no time, had a power shower (pushed me against the tiles) and set off to tonight’s eating place Bojangles. If it is half as good as Daly Waters we’re in for another treat.
When the bus pulled up outside the bar two monsters held the, saloon type, swing doors open and welcomed us in. The inside carried on with the western theme with long benches, beams and a big wood bar selling stock Oz booze: VB (Victoria Bitter), Carlton Bitter, Castlemmaine XXXX and a light premium beer for drivers. I know Australia is upside down but it really does turn things on its head. For instance a premium light is only just over 2% when a premium in the UK would be a strong beer and money gets smaller according to its value e.g. $2 is the smallest coin, $1 is twice as big and a 50 cents is a big clumsy looking coin something like our 50p. As we sat down a dark bold ugly looking bloke came over and explained the situation. He was going away for a few minutes and then coming back to take the order and all the dishes on the menu were $14. The menu was interesting including Kangaroo, Fish & Chips and Lamb Shank, which was my choice. True to his word he was back in a couple of minutes and asked us all to follow him to a counter where he took the orders, gave us a table buzzer which would sound when the order was ready and asked for the money. When Lucinda, usually one of the first in the queue, said we weren't paying he got really shirty and made his way round the counter to throw all 27 of us out singlehandedly. It was left to me to explain that our leader was paying. This seemed to infuriate him even more and he demanded we brought Leighton to the counter. The food which was ready and waiting, as the buzzer started to vibrate on the wooden table, was better than the night before. My lamb shank was served with well mashed and seasoned potatoes, rich gravy and a salad. Those that had the kangaroo were also impressed. As I started the meal I encountered my first run in with a real Sheila. Anne and myself decided, because the lamb was delicious, to have a glass of Oz Shiraz with it. and as I leaned over the bar to make my order the owner of the three full half pint barrel glasses in front of me and containing something resembling gin or at least clear alcoholic judging by her appearance said 'that's my place'. I should have just moved but instead I explained the situation. My accent immediately provoked a drunken 'where ya from'. My answer didn't help. 'Ya obviously not Australian or ya'd be a gentleman and help me find the green bean I've dropped by the bar'. I was now confronted by a major dilemma. I could play along with her game of taking the piss out of a pomme and letting my tasty lamb go cold or tell her to piss off and cause an ashes type confrontation which I couldn't win. I tried to explain about the food and received another insult about my nationality. I took my head torch from my pocket and shone it at the floor and drew her down 'saying whereabouts did it fall'? Just as she was about to take it one level further the ugly no nonsense barman said to her 'what ya doing?.’ When she explained he said 'piss off back to ya table'. As she walked away carrying the glasses of booz she gave him an I'll get you back for spoiling my fun look, turned to me and said 'thanks for fucking trying'. I rushed back to my lamb feeling I'd been let off lightly thanks to Mr Nononsense man.
Later I went to the toilet. As I pushed the door handle to enter the doot opened from the otherside as some one came out. Once inside the tap in front of me turned the tap on in the next bowl and the hand dryer started the one next to it. I was beginning to see where Sheila was coming from if the ladies were the same. We decided to leave with the coach and finished the night off drinking wine and whiskey on the campsite with Anne and Noreen. All in all, a good day.
The journey to Alice started at 7.30am and it was already causing me to meltdown. Also learned my first important lesson on survival. Went to the loo and as I turned and flushed it a two to three inch long jet black beetle crawled out and fell into the bowl. No problem but it could quite easily have been a Redback. From now on I always lift the toilet seat before sitting.
Within 30 minutes of driving south the scenery changed from tall trees and quite lush terraine to shrubby bushes and arid, semi desert. Hopefully the,however, the humidity levels will fall.
Had a picnic lunch at Mary Ann Dam on route. All went for a swim but the water was smelled of earth like a
Alice was a surprise to me, I expected a cross road with a bar and general store, horses and big rough looking, always fighting, comic book residents. In reality it's a town of 22,000 with modern shops and bars etc. We were camping 20 minutes outside the centre of town on the Stuart Caravan Park, so named because of its' proximity to the Stuart Highway the single road stretching from Darwin to Adelaide some 3800 kilometres . Once again the choice was between swags or small tents. Anne decided to go for the tent and avoid insects round her face. I would have gone for the swag, if I snore half as loud as she says no selfrespecting fly would come near me. We arrived latish and got the tent up in no time, had a power shower (pushed me against the tiles) and set off to tonight’s eating place Bojangles. If it is half as good as Daly Waters we’re in for another treat.
When the bus pulled up outside the bar two monsters held the, saloon type, swing doors open and welcomed us in. The inside carried on with the western theme with long benches, beams and a big wood bar selling stock Oz booze: VB (Victoria Bitter), Carlton Bitter, Castlemmaine XXXX and a light premium beer for drivers. I know Australia is upside down but it really does turn things on its head. For instance a premium light is only just over 2% when a premium in the UK would be a strong beer and money gets smaller according to its value e.g. $2 is the smallest coin, $1 is twice as big and a 50 cents is a big clumsy looking coin something like our 50p. As we sat down a dark bold ugly looking bloke came over and explained the situation. He was going away for a few minutes and then coming back to take the order and all the dishes on the menu were $14. The menu was interesting including Kangaroo, Fish & Chips and Lamb Shank, which was my choice. True to his word he was back in a couple of minutes and asked us all to follow him to a counter where he took the orders, gave us a table buzzer which would sound when the order was ready and asked for the money. When Lucinda, usually one of the first in the queue, said we weren't paying he got really shirty and made his way round the counter to throw all 27 of us out singlehandedly. It was left to me to explain that our leader was paying. This seemed to infuriate him even more and he demanded we brought Leighton to the counter. The food which was ready and waiting, as the buzzer started to vibrate on the wooden table, was better than the night before. My lamb shank was served with well mashed and seasoned potatoes, rich gravy and a salad. Those that had the kangaroo were also impressed. As I started the meal I encountered my first run in with a real Sheila. Anne and myself decided, because the lamb was delicious, to have a glass of Oz Shiraz with it. and as I leaned over the bar to make my order the owner of the three full half pint barrel glasses in front of me and containing something resembling gin or at least clear alcoholic judging by her appearance said 'that's my place'. I should have just moved but instead I explained the situation. My accent immediately provoked a drunken 'where ya from'. My answer didn't help. 'Ya obviously not Australian or ya'd be a gentleman and help me find the green bean I've dropped by the bar'. I was now confronted by a major dilemma. I could play along with her game of taking the piss out of a pomme and letting my tasty lamb go cold or tell her to piss off and cause an ashes type confrontation which I couldn't win. I tried to explain about the food and received another insult about my nationality. I took my head torch from my pocket and shone it at the floor and drew her down 'saying whereabouts did it fall'? Just as she was about to take it one level further the ugly no nonsense barman said to her 'what ya doing?.’ When she explained he said 'piss off back to ya table'. As she walked away carrying the glasses of booz she gave him an I'll get you back for spoiling my fun look, turned to me and said 'thanks for fucking trying'. I rushed back to my lamb feeling I'd been let off lightly thanks to Mr Nononsense man.
Later I went to the toilet. As I pushed the door handle to enter the doot opened from the otherside as some one came out. Once inside the tap in front of me turned the tap on in the next bowl and the hand dryer started the one next to it. I was beginning to see where Sheila was coming from if the ladies were the same. We decided to leave with the coach and finished the night off drinking wine and whiskey on the campsite with Anne and Noreen. All in all, a good day.
74 Day: Wednesday 5th December: Catherine - Daly Waters
we started out early and went canoeing up the Catherine Gorge for three hours with John as my partner. Had a very pleasant relaxing time just paddling up the river until we came to a point in the river where we would have to carry the canoe to continue the next gorge. After a very pleasant hour just swimming in the beautiful clear water we decided to just take our time and head back down at a leisurely pace. Later found out that the river does have freshwater crocodiles. At one point when we were swimming and fooling about Lauren got out of the water saying she had seen a long object swimming not too far away from us and it was obvious she was serious. I have no doubt we had been swimming with crocodiles, all be it, harmless freshwater ones.
Anne, Noreen and Viv went on a helicopter ride up the gorge but were very disssapointed by it. The pilot kept well away from the gorge and too high to see it or us and take any decent photos. A waist of money.
Lunch in Catherine at Subway
Carried on moving south and called in at a spring which was dugout by soldiers as a makeshift swimming pool and, of course, it was then commandeered by the officers for their own use. The pool offered us the first cool water and everyone, plus another group heading from Alice to Darwin, took the opportunity to swim even though there was a warning sign about crocs.
Arrived at 6.30pm at tonight’s stop the Daly Waters pub. The bus slowed down and came to a stop as it approached a set of traffic lights on red. It then turned onto the ground behind the pub and parked. I later found out the traffic lights are always on red, everyone has to stop at Daly Waters. We were camping using swagger bags. The camp area was right behind the pub and after spending a good 30 minutes trying to set our Mosquito net up between a tree and a makeshift pole we retreated to the pub for a meal. The air around here was filled with various flying insects some big enough to be picked up on a radar screen. A flying beetle the size of a piece of anthracite tried to go through my body and both of us finished up on the floor trying to work out what had hit us. It happily crawled off into the scrub while I beat a quick retreat back to the bar.
This was the first pub since leaving England that I would be happy to call my local. The barman was a young man from Bolton who’d been traveling around Australia for 3 months mainly in the west around Perth, which he loved. He did admit that he was missing his mates back home and the dozen or so inhabitants of Daly Waters, although great, hardly made the place a cosmopolitan town like Bol.. don’t be stupid. If the rest of the town’s folk were anything like the ones in the bar then this place could give any large town in the UK a good run for its money. A group playing pool and dressed like cowboys eventually left the bar, as they do every night according to the landlord, to fight. The landlord’s wife just took the opportunity to commandeer the pool table for a winner-takes-all competition which I just happened to win because everyone else who entered were pissed. We were also provided with fancy dress hats and gear to make the competition even more ridiculous and the pool table was by now covered in what I thought were lace flies: an insect with long lace wings which turned out to be termites. The air, the toilets, the showers, indeed everywhere in and around the pub was covered with these harmless but very annoying creatures.
The pub itself beggared belief consisting of a combination of corrugated sheds encircling a central main bar and garden area. The walls and ceilings were covered with various artifacts left by travellers. These consisted of women’s knickers, a thong tree (flip flops), foreign currency, photographs of individuals and groups all pulling faces. The place was a veritable museum of disused machinery and equipment such as saddles sitting astride a pole and boxes of old military communications equipment etc etc etc.
By the time it got to bedtime we decided against sleeping in swag bags, covered with mosquito nets or not. There was just too much animal life about and the kind barman from Bolton put us in one of their backpack rooms outside. I doubt whether I could have found my way the short distance back to the camp.
Anne, Noreen and Viv went on a helicopter ride up the gorge but were very disssapointed by it. The pilot kept well away from the gorge and too high to see it or us and take any decent photos. A waist of money.
Lunch in Catherine at Subway
Carried on moving south and called in at a spring which was dugout by soldiers as a makeshift swimming pool and, of course, it was then commandeered by the officers for their own use. The pool offered us the first cool water and everyone, plus another group heading from Alice to Darwin, took the opportunity to swim even though there was a warning sign about crocs.
Arrived at 6.30pm at tonight’s stop the Daly Waters pub. The bus slowed down and came to a stop as it approached a set of traffic lights on red. It then turned onto the ground behind the pub and parked. I later found out the traffic lights are always on red, everyone has to stop at Daly Waters. We were camping using swagger bags. The camp area was right behind the pub and after spending a good 30 minutes trying to set our Mosquito net up between a tree and a makeshift pole we retreated to the pub for a meal. The air around here was filled with various flying insects some big enough to be picked up on a radar screen. A flying beetle the size of a piece of anthracite tried to go through my body and both of us finished up on the floor trying to work out what had hit us. It happily crawled off into the scrub while I beat a quick retreat back to the bar.
This was the first pub since leaving England that I would be happy to call my local. The barman was a young man from Bolton who’d been traveling around Australia for 3 months mainly in the west around Perth, which he loved. He did admit that he was missing his mates back home and the dozen or so inhabitants of Daly Waters, although great, hardly made the place a cosmopolitan town like Bol.. don’t be stupid. If the rest of the town’s folk were anything like the ones in the bar then this place could give any large town in the UK a good run for its money. A group playing pool and dressed like cowboys eventually left the bar, as they do every night according to the landlord, to fight. The landlord’s wife just took the opportunity to commandeer the pool table for a winner-takes-all competition which I just happened to win because everyone else who entered were pissed. We were also provided with fancy dress hats and gear to make the competition even more ridiculous and the pool table was by now covered in what I thought were lace flies: an insect with long lace wings which turned out to be termites. The air, the toilets, the showers, indeed everywhere in and around the pub was covered with these harmless but very annoying creatures.
The pub itself beggared belief consisting of a combination of corrugated sheds encircling a central main bar and garden area. The walls and ceilings were covered with various artifacts left by travellers. These consisted of women’s knickers, a thong tree (flip flops), foreign currency, photographs of individuals and groups all pulling faces. The place was a veritable museum of disused machinery and equipment such as saddles sitting astride a pole and boxes of old military communications equipment etc etc etc.
By the time it got to bedtime we decided against sleeping in swag bags, covered with mosquito nets or not. There was just too much animal life about and the kind barman from Bolton put us in one of their backpack rooms outside. I doubt whether I could have found my way the short distance back to the camp.
73 Day: Tuesday 4th December: Kakadu Nature Reserve
Unfortunately this record has been lost and I will have to rewrite it when I have time to check out what we did
Saturday 2 February 2008
72 Day: Monday 3rd December: Darwin -Kakadu Nature Reserve
Not so much a new day but the continuation of the night before. Made a perfect landing at Darwin at 1.30am fulfilling a forty year ambition. At last I was about to know whether my decission not to emmigrate in 1967 for the love of the UK folk scene was good or bad one. As I walked up the tunnel to customs a female airport worker coming down looked up at me and said 'g'day'. The perfect welcome to Oz.
We had heard so many bad stories about trying to get into Oz so even as we stood waiting to be processed we weren't sure of actually being allowed in. As the customs officer looked at both of our passports and the screen she leaned over to the officer next to her and said 'why does it keep saying this?' For a split second I was convinced that Visas4Oz had botched our ETAs. The other officer looked over and said 'it's ok'. We were in!
The Youth Shack Hostel was closed and in darkness when we arrived and as we stood waiting for someone to come and open up the humidity engulfed everything and within a few minutes my body had gone into meltdown. The temperature was a cool 30 degrees and I later found out it was the second hottest night in over thirty years. The humidity which is the real killer was a staggering 89%. Things only got worse when we entered the hostel and our room. I was sharing with three others and no one had thought to switch the air con on. The room must have been in the 100s. Lucky for me the others allocated me the top bunk just under the air con unit which blasted out cold air for the few remaining hours in Darwin.
Out the four of us one went and slept outside by the pool, one lay reading by the light of his torch and John and myself slept and missed breakfast which we were assured by Anne was one of the best ever. Before boarding the bus went with John to get new simcards for our phones and had my first experience of Oz sarcasm. While setting up the account Craig made polite conversation.
'Where ya from mate?'
'England'
'Pity about the cricket team'
I replied 'The gov'ts not much better'.
'Better than the one which sent convicts out to the sand and sun'.
I should have replied pity about your rugby team or words to that effect and given him a run for his money but he caught me off guard, melting still and tired. A g'day and a dig at the English within a couple of hours of landing. I could get to like this place if it ever cools down to just boiling.
When we arrived back at the hostel our new bus with driver and guide Rick was waiting. Although he didn't start having a go at the English he had the same indifference and sense of humour as Craig. Within twenty minutes he'd given us the itinerary for the next couple of days and did it in a way that convinced everyone it would happen. No bullshit! His presentation ended to general applause and I think he was surprised by it.
Within an hour or so we were fulfilling the first event watching crocodiles jumping for food. No sooner had the boat left the river quay than the first croc made for it. As the lump of meat dangled over its head it carefully and slowly positioned itself and then lifted a good third of its body out of the water snapping at the bait. After a couple more attempts he was allowed to grab the meat and our attention was drawn to croc two on the other side of the boat.
Our attention was being drawn to each new croc by the none stop Ben Elton type talking captain.
'Who they're mean ladies and gentlemen.
Pure killing machine ladies and gentlemen'.
And they'll eat you ladies and gentlemen if you given em the chance.
'And when it's hot and sticky like today and your by a welcoming cool looking pool of water you'll given em the chance'.
'There everywhere ladies .... and so on and so on'.
Intermindled with all this showmanship blurb he also gave us the statistics how crocs were hunted to extinction, before being protected for the past 30 years. They will only eat something smaller than its' own body size and are only now again reaching the size of mankillers. Every year more people are being attacked and this will increase as the crocs getter bigger. They live a similar age to humans and grow at the same rate. Most of the specimens we encountered were, according to the voice, about 3 metres long and would kill given the chance when hungry. Much of his comments were intended as a serious warning to people not to swim if the sign says not to.
'Whoo and you will ladies ...' and so on etc. Why would anyone be stupid enough to swim with crocodiles?
After the hour feeding the crocs we were entertained by two beautiful three to four foot long water pythons who didn't seem to mind being wrapped round people's necks etc. We were told to go and wash our hands, arms etc if we had sun tan lotion on.
We had heard so many bad stories about trying to get into Oz so even as we stood waiting to be processed we weren't sure of actually being allowed in. As the customs officer looked at both of our passports and the screen she leaned over to the officer next to her and said 'why does it keep saying this?' For a split second I was convinced that Visas4Oz had botched our ETAs. The other officer looked over and said 'it's ok'. We were in!
The Youth Shack Hostel was closed and in darkness when we arrived and as we stood waiting for someone to come and open up the humidity engulfed everything and within a few minutes my body had gone into meltdown. The temperature was a cool 30 degrees and I later found out it was the second hottest night in over thirty years. The humidity which is the real killer was a staggering 89%. Things only got worse when we entered the hostel and our room. I was sharing with three others and no one had thought to switch the air con on. The room must have been in the 100s. Lucky for me the others allocated me the top bunk just under the air con unit which blasted out cold air for the few remaining hours in Darwin.
Out the four of us one went and slept outside by the pool, one lay reading by the light of his torch and John and myself slept and missed breakfast which we were assured by Anne was one of the best ever. Before boarding the bus went with John to get new simcards for our phones and had my first experience of Oz sarcasm. While setting up the account Craig made polite conversation.
'Where ya from mate?'
'England'
'Pity about the cricket team'
I replied 'The gov'ts not much better'.
'Better than the one which sent convicts out to the sand and sun'.
I should have replied pity about your rugby team or words to that effect and given him a run for his money but he caught me off guard, melting still and tired. A g'day and a dig at the English within a couple of hours of landing. I could get to like this place if it ever cools down to just boiling.
When we arrived back at the hostel our new bus with driver and guide Rick was waiting. Although he didn't start having a go at the English he had the same indifference and sense of humour as Craig. Within twenty minutes he'd given us the itinerary for the next couple of days and did it in a way that convinced everyone it would happen. No bullshit! His presentation ended to general applause and I think he was surprised by it.
Within an hour or so we were fulfilling the first event watching crocodiles jumping for food. No sooner had the boat left the river quay than the first croc made for it. As the lump of meat dangled over its head it carefully and slowly positioned itself and then lifted a good third of its body out of the water snapping at the bait. After a couple more attempts he was allowed to grab the meat and our attention was drawn to croc two on the other side of the boat.
Our attention was being drawn to each new croc by the none stop Ben Elton type talking captain.
'Who they're mean ladies and gentlemen.
Pure killing machine ladies and gentlemen'.
And they'll eat you ladies and gentlemen if you given em the chance.
'And when it's hot and sticky like today and your by a welcoming cool looking pool of water you'll given em the chance'.
'There everywhere ladies .... and so on and so on'.
Intermindled with all this showmanship blurb he also gave us the statistics how crocs were hunted to extinction, before being protected for the past 30 years. They will only eat something smaller than its' own body size and are only now again reaching the size of mankillers. Every year more people are being attacked and this will increase as the crocs getter bigger. They live a similar age to humans and grow at the same rate. Most of the specimens we encountered were, according to the voice, about 3 metres long and would kill given the chance when hungry. Much of his comments were intended as a serious warning to people not to swim if the sign says not to.
'Whoo and you will ladies ...' and so on etc. Why would anyone be stupid enough to swim with crocodiles?
After the hour feeding the crocs we were entertained by two beautiful three to four foot long water pythons who didn't seem to mind being wrapped round people's necks etc. We were told to go and wash our hands, arms etc if we had sun tan lotion on.
71 Day: Sunday 2nd December: Bali - Darwin and the final country Australia.
Went for breakfast but settled for a couple of pieces of fruit and a cold cup of tea. We considered hiring a car to go and see the paddy fields but had no idea of where to go and we had a deadline to meet of 6.15pm to leave for the plane. The tourist information offices (on every corner) didn't even have maps of the area we were staying in and just tried to sell trips which all started in the early morning (which we'd missed being in bed) and mainly included fishing, boat trips out to sea and a zoo that Lonely Planet calls disgraceful because of the condition of the animals.
I finished up spending two and half hours in an internet café whilst Anne packed for Australia. A complete waist of valuable time. We were dragged to Bali in the dark after a wonderful time on Mt Bromo and the time, we'd supposedly made up by flying, (Calcutta) was once again cut down. The original itinerary had us flying from East Timor and God only knows when we'd had got there.
Most people were assmbled at the hotel reception when we got there having decided also to give the day up to travelling. The journey to the airport went smoothly and we arrived to miss what looked like a spectacular sunset. I was very pleased and relieved to find out we were flying with Quantas and not Garuda. Mark told me Garuda have been banned from Europe for failing safety checks and neglecting maintance. It took Quantas an hour to check us in and slid into a bit of farce. The security was OTT, had my bags checked three times before we got to check in. We were then frisked again before boarding over twenty minutes late. Our plain was very new with leather seats and neck supports that could be moulded around your neck but was considerablely smaller than the Garuda Boeing standing by its' side and as much as I looked I couldn't find the familiar Quantas symbol. Instead it said Air North which I later found out is Quantas' short haul company. As I sat down I heard Alex telling Barry that one of the cabin staff had told him we were flying through a storm even though Noreen had seen the weather only the day before online and confirmed good conditions. I found out later they were winding me up, the bastards. The actual flight was brilliant and even though 9.30 Bali time became 11.30pm once on the plane we were served food and drinks. We were offered a choice of chicken, beef or veg pies, cheese and biscuits washed down with Jacobs Creek and the very kind air hostess gave me a second bottle. This was a good way to leave the Orient.
I finished up spending two and half hours in an internet café whilst Anne packed for Australia. A complete waist of valuable time. We were dragged to Bali in the dark after a wonderful time on Mt Bromo and the time, we'd supposedly made up by flying, (Calcutta) was once again cut down. The original itinerary had us flying from East Timor and God only knows when we'd had got there.
Most people were assmbled at the hotel reception when we got there having decided also to give the day up to travelling. The journey to the airport went smoothly and we arrived to miss what looked like a spectacular sunset. I was very pleased and relieved to find out we were flying with Quantas and not Garuda. Mark told me Garuda have been banned from Europe for failing safety checks and neglecting maintance. It took Quantas an hour to check us in and slid into a bit of farce. The security was OTT, had my bags checked three times before we got to check in. We were then frisked again before boarding over twenty minutes late. Our plain was very new with leather seats and neck supports that could be moulded around your neck but was considerablely smaller than the Garuda Boeing standing by its' side and as much as I looked I couldn't find the familiar Quantas symbol. Instead it said Air North which I later found out is Quantas' short haul company. As I sat down I heard Alex telling Barry that one of the cabin staff had told him we were flying through a storm even though Noreen had seen the weather only the day before online and confirmed good conditions. I found out later they were winding me up, the bastards. The actual flight was brilliant and even though 9.30 Bali time became 11.30pm once on the plane we were served food and drinks. We were offered a choice of chicken, beef or veg pies, cheese and biscuits washed down with Jacobs Creek and the very kind air hostess gave me a second bottle. This was a good way to leave the Orient.
70 Day: Saturday 1st December: Bali
Didn't have breakfast until nearly 11.0am and it was the worst so far. The only choice was between fruit or juice. The toast was made from sweet bread, the butter ransid and the jam awlful. The hotel looked fine from the outside with a pool, bar area and chalet type rooms. Ours even had a split fancy carved door and shuttered windows. But once inside things quickly deteriorated. The fancy door when closed had an inch gap between the two halves when shut which was no deterent to mosquitos. The air con unit was not powerful for the size of the room which had chairs, coffee table and a couch. The toilet and bath/ shower were quite smelly and slippery.
Went for a walk to buy a top-up card to ring home and it was so hot and humid that we went into the first air-conditioned shop which turned out to be a surfing shop. Finished up buying shorts and a tee shirt.
Arrived to find Jim, Lauren and David in the pool. They arrived from Bangkok late last night and went straight to a club, eventually emerging in the late afternoon.
Went to the beach at about four and enjoyed the plunge in the sea but chose a bad spot. As soon as I went in I was called out by a life guard who said it was a very dangerous spot. The beach front was strewn with good looking reasonably priced hotels with pools and bars looking straight out to sea. All an improvement on ours.
Now found out the flight to Darwin is now at 9.00pm tomorrow and not Monday morning as originally told. No reason given. This means with the time difference we'll arrive in Darwin at about 1.30am
Went for dinner with John, Zoe, Jim and Lucinda. I had Lobster Thermidor for 145,000. Then went to a type of night club. Cocktails came in small fish bowls. Played pool until the rest of the lads turned up from their travels. By 1.00am Ben, Geof, Fergal, Barry and Das had all arrived. Only one missing now is Mac. Heard, later, he was on the island but staying at another hotel.
It's amasing we're on one of the most beautiful islands in the world and we've had no oportunity to see it. We arrived late, catching the ferry at about 5.00pm and spent three very bad hours driving across the island. It really shows poor understanding of the terraine. It wouldn't have been so bad if we were traveling in daylight to the airport but it was only a twenty miinute ride from the hotel and once again we left in the dark. All in all we agreed today was a waist of a day but long hours spent on the bus really takes its toll on us. We just need to relax.
Went for a walk to buy a top-up card to ring home and it was so hot and humid that we went into the first air-conditioned shop which turned out to be a surfing shop. Finished up buying shorts and a tee shirt.
Arrived to find Jim, Lauren and David in the pool. They arrived from Bangkok late last night and went straight to a club, eventually emerging in the late afternoon.
Went to the beach at about four and enjoyed the plunge in the sea but chose a bad spot. As soon as I went in I was called out by a life guard who said it was a very dangerous spot. The beach front was strewn with good looking reasonably priced hotels with pools and bars looking straight out to sea. All an improvement on ours.
Now found out the flight to Darwin is now at 9.00pm tomorrow and not Monday morning as originally told. No reason given. This means with the time difference we'll arrive in Darwin at about 1.30am
Went for dinner with John, Zoe, Jim and Lucinda. I had Lobster Thermidor for 145,000. Then went to a type of night club. Cocktails came in small fish bowls. Played pool until the rest of the lads turned up from their travels. By 1.00am Ben, Geof, Fergal, Barry and Das had all arrived. Only one missing now is Mac. Heard, later, he was on the island but staying at another hotel.
It's amasing we're on one of the most beautiful islands in the world and we've had no oportunity to see it. We arrived late, catching the ferry at about 5.00pm and spent three very bad hours driving across the island. It really shows poor understanding of the terraine. It wouldn't have been so bad if we were traveling in daylight to the airport but it was only a twenty miinute ride from the hotel and once again we left in the dark. All in all we agreed today was a waist of a day but long hours spent on the bus really takes its toll on us. We just need to relax.
69 Day: Friday 30th November, Mt Bromo
I didn't sleep very well last night, for me the evenings are ending too early. Last night we were in bed for 10.30pm and I spent another hour catching up with my blog. I seemed to drift restlessly in and out of conscientiousness. Not like the night before when I had the most weird dream. Where it came from is beyond my understand of the brain. If anyone out there can work it out let me know. Anyway, somehow Mac and myself had discovered that by compressing palm leaves we could convert them into an organic type of substance which was a perfect substitute for plastic. Once compressed it could be shaped and polished. Very quickly in dream fashion we had a factory unit in operation down the hillside from here producing the raw material to make toothbrushes, knife and fork handles etc and anything else that can been made of plastic. We were paying the workers a minimum wage of £1 an hour and all seemed well. However, I suddenly awoke with the feeling that all was not what it should be and as I tried to recreate the conditions to return to my stupor all I could think was that we'd changed a happy rural idyll into a factory controlled system, changed the happy nature of the locals and Mac and myself were a bad influence ruining this paradise for ever. If only the dream had shown me the process of how to do it. I'd be rich and happy or would I be?
Once the luggage and us were loaded on our separate buses the downward journey began. I did manage to say goodbye to the Smiley Angels team at breakfast. The scenery downhill was stunning with well kept houses and gardens with the most beautiful deep red flowers hanging from bushes. Some of the fields were full of rows of lettuce, big dark green cabbages and potatoes. This didn't interest Leighton who felt the driver was not going fast enough and tried to get him to speed up saying 'we came up faster'. I am pleased to say the driver who obviously didn't know the road as well as someone from Ireland nonetheless stuck to his preferred speed. Had he asked the driver in a polite manner it would have been just a lack of commonsense but by grunting and demanding him to 'get going, faster he was just being ignorant and irresponsible. Had the driver responded by putting his foot down I would have totally lost my wrag with him. This was a very dangerous road of sharp bends, other users (bikes, cars and buses) and children by the wayside and he would be putting everyone's lives at risk just to meet an unachievable timetable. It makes me angry and I'm beginning to wonder what they will try next to get us to Sydney on time. On Monday we land in Darwin at 8.00am in the morning and head for Kakodu Nature Reserve. We have a couple of days there before heading into the outback. We are arriving in the middle of the wet season (October to March) when visitors are advised not to visit. This is another of their must see places that looks like going sadly wrong for us.
Had lunch in a very pleasant restaurant by the sea. Zoe, Leighton, Caroline and Mas all went for a swim while we waited for lunch. Anne and myself had meat ball soup while the others stuck with good old chicken and rice. The food, however, was very good. It seems the nine hour journey from Mt Bromo to the ferry port has gone down to five. The journey from our lunch stop went from thirty minutes to two.
The ferry port was very interesting. The ferry looked like one of the run down overcrowded tugs seen on the news after a disaster. As we climbed to the upper deck young lads jumped from the top into the sea as passengers threw coins for them to dive down for. The top deck was situated through the pilot house and once the outside had filled passeners overflowed standing with the crew. The ferry sailed out into the Straits of Java with young lads still hanging onto the side shouting for money. Behind us hiding in the haze and clouds stood a tall forbidding volcano.
The Straits of Java leading to Bali was no distance at all but the ferry made hard work of it almost drifting along with the tide. The crew deserve special mention. The two in the pilot house sat with their feet on the controls, one actually steering with his bare foot and before we reached Bali the boat seemed to be being steered by an Indonesian passenger who took his opportunity when the actual pilot got up to move. The upper deck consisted of young people all carrying cameras digital and traditional and who turned out to be students on a photography course at the local university. They were very eager to talk to us and before too long the conversation sank down to football. What a sad reflection on the world that all its' inhabitants can find in common to talk about is twenty two men kicking a bloody bag of air about.
Once on Bali we had to put our watches back another hour which took us from 5.30 to 6.30 and into darkness. The journey across the island took longer than anticipated and I have to say the driver was travelling faster and more reckless than any time before. Hope Leighton han't been at Anton and the driver to put his foot down. Whilst travelling Colin received a phone call from Jimmy who was about to fly into Bali along with Andy and Lauren. He also rang to wish Sue happy birthday. Today is also St Andrew's Day and the Scots were hoping to celebrate but the way things are going it may be too late when we arrive.
Once the luggage and us were loaded on our separate buses the downward journey began. I did manage to say goodbye to the Smiley Angels team at breakfast. The scenery downhill was stunning with well kept houses and gardens with the most beautiful deep red flowers hanging from bushes. Some of the fields were full of rows of lettuce, big dark green cabbages and potatoes. This didn't interest Leighton who felt the driver was not going fast enough and tried to get him to speed up saying 'we came up faster'. I am pleased to say the driver who obviously didn't know the road as well as someone from Ireland nonetheless stuck to his preferred speed. Had he asked the driver in a polite manner it would have been just a lack of commonsense but by grunting and demanding him to 'get going, faster he was just being ignorant and irresponsible. Had the driver responded by putting his foot down I would have totally lost my wrag with him. This was a very dangerous road of sharp bends, other users (bikes, cars and buses) and children by the wayside and he would be putting everyone's lives at risk just to meet an unachievable timetable. It makes me angry and I'm beginning to wonder what they will try next to get us to Sydney on time. On Monday we land in Darwin at 8.00am in the morning and head for Kakodu Nature Reserve. We have a couple of days there before heading into the outback. We are arriving in the middle of the wet season (October to March) when visitors are advised not to visit. This is another of their must see places that looks like going sadly wrong for us.
Had lunch in a very pleasant restaurant by the sea. Zoe, Leighton, Caroline and Mas all went for a swim while we waited for lunch. Anne and myself had meat ball soup while the others stuck with good old chicken and rice. The food, however, was very good. It seems the nine hour journey from Mt Bromo to the ferry port has gone down to five. The journey from our lunch stop went from thirty minutes to two.
The ferry port was very interesting. The ferry looked like one of the run down overcrowded tugs seen on the news after a disaster. As we climbed to the upper deck young lads jumped from the top into the sea as passengers threw coins for them to dive down for. The top deck was situated through the pilot house and once the outside had filled passeners overflowed standing with the crew. The ferry sailed out into the Straits of Java with young lads still hanging onto the side shouting for money. Behind us hiding in the haze and clouds stood a tall forbidding volcano.
The Straits of Java leading to Bali was no distance at all but the ferry made hard work of it almost drifting along with the tide. The crew deserve special mention. The two in the pilot house sat with their feet on the controls, one actually steering with his bare foot and before we reached Bali the boat seemed to be being steered by an Indonesian passenger who took his opportunity when the actual pilot got up to move. The upper deck consisted of young people all carrying cameras digital and traditional and who turned out to be students on a photography course at the local university. They were very eager to talk to us and before too long the conversation sank down to football. What a sad reflection on the world that all its' inhabitants can find in common to talk about is twenty two men kicking a bloody bag of air about.
Once on Bali we had to put our watches back another hour which took us from 5.30 to 6.30 and into darkness. The journey across the island took longer than anticipated and I have to say the driver was travelling faster and more reckless than any time before. Hope Leighton han't been at Anton and the driver to put his foot down. Whilst travelling Colin received a phone call from Jimmy who was about to fly into Bali along with Andy and Lauren. He also rang to wish Sue happy birthday. Today is also St Andrew's Day and the Scots were hoping to celebrate but the way things are going it may be too late when we arrive.
68 Day: Thursday 29th: Mt Bromo
I first woke up about 4.20am but managed to dose until 7.00am when my attention was drawn to the scene outside through a thin strip of window not covered by the curtain. The lodge house sat on a flat area overlooking a large crater and rising above everything in the distance were two volcanoes, one cone-like and extinct and the other, to its left, was irregular in shape and sending large clouds of white smoke into the atmosphere. Just before breakfast I walked out to the edge of the flat area and gazed in awe at the full scene. It took me straight back to Ecuador in 1993 and the large extinct volcano that we all so innocently set off down for a little stroll only to return five or six hours later distressed and shattered. This crater was not of the same dimensions but housed the two volcanoes described earlier and also a large modern looking temple. What did make this basin different to the one in South America is its' depth. This was a couple of hundred feet below my point looking out and not a couple of thousand.
After an excellent breakfast of two fried eggs, toast, a very tasty fried rice and as much mango, melon, pineapple and bananas we set out to walk to the smoking Mt Bromo. The journey started very well with a very refreshing breeze accompanying us on the descent to the basin floor. Once down things got a little harder, the man made path quickly changed into a black sandy lava floor stretching for as far as the eye could see. The wind had dropped which was bad because the heat factor quickly rose but a blessing because the sandy black dust was not been blown about. This however, quickly changed when we were joined by two or three men leading ponies which could be hired for 50,000 rm. The ponies were kept just in front of us and kicked up enough dust to make walking uncomfortable. It was impossible to get in front of them and if we fell back they waited thinking we were about to give in and pay for a ride. Much worse than the ponies were the motorbike riding tea shirt sellers who would speed past to the front of the stretched out group kicking up more dust than the African Core in WW2 and then making their way back down the line waiving their products and saying 'quality, After about 45 minutes we reached the base of Mt Bromo and were confronted by a very steep incline of steps leading to the summit and more tea shirt sellers and also men waiving dried flowers. One quietly, in wellingtons, waiving his wares in our faces, slowly stayed two steps in front of Anne and myself all the way up to the top.
Once at the top the scene was breathtaking, we were now standing over 7000 ft with views back and beyond our lodge to the mountains behind. In front of us was a perfect cone tapering to the smoking core about a 1000 ft below. As the smoke rose into the clear blue sky the wind swirled it round the cone like a vortex and we'd be engulfed in a thick choking sulphurous fog. The crater took over an hour to circumnavigate and was as far as I'm concerned very dangerous. At one point the path along the top was no more than a foot wide with a drop of a thousand feet into the smoking cone and a three or four hundred foot drop on the other. Which ever way you looked at it, it was death on either side. I gave it a miss and just stood looking at the belching smoke and the stunning views all round. About seven set off round and as they approached from the other side I had to look away in fear for them. For Leighton, as always, it turned into a competition and Zoe seemed intent on giving him a good run for his money but as she came striding towards the very dangerous bit she stumbled for second but managed to keep her foothold. I have to say I did not witness this but was told by the others after their gasps of horror. But as always she passed it off with a beaming smile.
During our stay we got talking to Leslie a thin, red bearded, pony tailed, sarong wearing, bare footed Belgium who informed us that he had seen photos taken by some backpackers of Krakatoa erupting last week just over a hundred and thirty years since it provided the modern world with its largest explosion. If we'd stayed in Jakarta as we were supposed to do we would have also seen it. Something else they have robbed us of thanks to their incompetence.
As we set off back to the lodge Leighton and Zoe began climbing the extinct cone which looked higher - but not according to the map - followed by Ted, Caroline and Mas. After making the ascent the two then reclimbed Mt Bromo but abandoned their second circumnavigation because the weather changed for the worse. When they arrived back at the lodge all were black faced and tired but ecstatic at their achievement.
Anne on the other hand decided to risk hiring a pony back and thoroughly enjoyed her first riding experience. As she slowly rode into the distance leaving me behind to carry the rucksack, water, camera etc it remind me of the time in Annecy when she sailed away led by Philipe. However, on a more positive note she now has no excuse for not going pony trekking back in England. I walked it back at a slow pace with John who was finding it hard to breath with his chest infection. Just before the final and all knackering climb back out of the basin I spent a pleasant couple of minutes resting and talking to a young couple from Warwick who just arrived in Java from South America. What a coincidence.
The round trip took us about 4 hours and left us with a dilemma: what to do with the rest of the afternoon. Needless to say it was spent drinking ice-cold beer, reliving our triumph and wallowing in the atmosphere of an absolutely maginificent place. There is something special about places that exist only at the behest of mother nature. This magnificent place and its beautiful smiling people could be wiped out at any moment. But it seems the risk they live with everyday makes them happier and more content than us in our sanotised protective environments.
After a rest to recoupe from the beer and I suppose the walk we had dinner early. I had a chicken, noodle soup which was delicious, Anne went European with spag bol and John had is usual Nasi Gorem. The evening was spent drinking more beer and listening to a lad providing live music. Once again we were entertained by a talented young man who played guitar and electric piano and sang an eclectic mix of rock, blues and folk. I'm really sad that we're leaving tomorrow morning for Bali. This is one place I'd recommend to anyone and I have to say I'm very grateful to the two in London for putting it on the itinerary. If you get the chance to come and see Mt Bromo take it. The sceneray and the people make this is a 5 star destination.
After an excellent breakfast of two fried eggs, toast, a very tasty fried rice and as much mango, melon, pineapple and bananas we set out to walk to the smoking Mt Bromo. The journey started very well with a very refreshing breeze accompanying us on the descent to the basin floor. Once down things got a little harder, the man made path quickly changed into a black sandy lava floor stretching for as far as the eye could see. The wind had dropped which was bad because the heat factor quickly rose but a blessing because the sandy black dust was not been blown about. This however, quickly changed when we were joined by two or three men leading ponies which could be hired for 50,000 rm. The ponies were kept just in front of us and kicked up enough dust to make walking uncomfortable. It was impossible to get in front of them and if we fell back they waited thinking we were about to give in and pay for a ride. Much worse than the ponies were the motorbike riding tea shirt sellers who would speed past to the front of the stretched out group kicking up more dust than the African Core in WW2 and then making their way back down the line waiving their products and saying 'quality, After about 45 minutes we reached the base of Mt Bromo and were confronted by a very steep incline of steps leading to the summit and more tea shirt sellers and also men waiving dried flowers. One quietly, in wellingtons, waiving his wares in our faces, slowly stayed two steps in front of Anne and myself all the way up to the top.
Once at the top the scene was breathtaking, we were now standing over 7000 ft with views back and beyond our lodge to the mountains behind. In front of us was a perfect cone tapering to the smoking core about a 1000 ft below. As the smoke rose into the clear blue sky the wind swirled it round the cone like a vortex and we'd be engulfed in a thick choking sulphurous fog. The crater took over an hour to circumnavigate and was as far as I'm concerned very dangerous. At one point the path along the top was no more than a foot wide with a drop of a thousand feet into the smoking cone and a three or four hundred foot drop on the other. Which ever way you looked at it, it was death on either side. I gave it a miss and just stood looking at the belching smoke and the stunning views all round. About seven set off round and as they approached from the other side I had to look away in fear for them. For Leighton, as always, it turned into a competition and Zoe seemed intent on giving him a good run for his money but as she came striding towards the very dangerous bit she stumbled for second but managed to keep her foothold. I have to say I did not witness this but was told by the others after their gasps of horror. But as always she passed it off with a beaming smile.
During our stay we got talking to Leslie a thin, red bearded, pony tailed, sarong wearing, bare footed Belgium who informed us that he had seen photos taken by some backpackers of Krakatoa erupting last week just over a hundred and thirty years since it provided the modern world with its largest explosion. If we'd stayed in Jakarta as we were supposed to do we would have also seen it. Something else they have robbed us of thanks to their incompetence.
As we set off back to the lodge Leighton and Zoe began climbing the extinct cone which looked higher - but not according to the map - followed by Ted, Caroline and Mas. After making the ascent the two then reclimbed Mt Bromo but abandoned their second circumnavigation because the weather changed for the worse. When they arrived back at the lodge all were black faced and tired but ecstatic at their achievement.
Anne on the other hand decided to risk hiring a pony back and thoroughly enjoyed her first riding experience. As she slowly rode into the distance leaving me behind to carry the rucksack, water, camera etc it remind me of the time in Annecy when she sailed away led by Philipe. However, on a more positive note she now has no excuse for not going pony trekking back in England. I walked it back at a slow pace with John who was finding it hard to breath with his chest infection. Just before the final and all knackering climb back out of the basin I spent a pleasant couple of minutes resting and talking to a young couple from Warwick who just arrived in Java from South America. What a coincidence.
The round trip took us about 4 hours and left us with a dilemma: what to do with the rest of the afternoon. Needless to say it was spent drinking ice-cold beer, reliving our triumph and wallowing in the atmosphere of an absolutely maginificent place. There is something special about places that exist only at the behest of mother nature. This magnificent place and its beautiful smiling people could be wiped out at any moment. But it seems the risk they live with everyday makes them happier and more content than us in our sanotised protective environments.
After a rest to recoupe from the beer and I suppose the walk we had dinner early. I had a chicken, noodle soup which was delicious, Anne went European with spag bol and John had is usual Nasi Gorem. The evening was spent drinking more beer and listening to a lad providing live music. Once again we were entertained by a talented young man who played guitar and electric piano and sang an eclectic mix of rock, blues and folk. I'm really sad that we're leaving tomorrow morning for Bali. This is one place I'd recommend to anyone and I have to say I'm very grateful to the two in London for putting it on the itinerary. If you get the chance to come and see Mt Bromo take it. The sceneray and the people make this is a 5 star destination.
67 Day: Wedensday 28th:Nwami - Mt Bromo
Glad to get away from this place. The journey started ok but then began to climb up to Mt Bromo and I fell asleep and missed the best part. I have fallen asleep a couple of times now and it's worrying because I usually find the scenery compelling veiwing. We were told we had a three hour drive before transferring to two smaller buses to make the climb up to our stop at Lava View Lodge. I awoke just before the transfer.
The last hour took us up and up round some scary bends at a breakneck speed. If the bus hadn't been old it could have got seriously frightening. As we climbed the daylight faded quickly and the sky above the mountain turned crimsen as though the sky was on fire. It reminded me of the last scenes in Lord of the Rings as the two Hobbits headed up to Modor. When we arrived at the lodge the sky was black and gave no indication of the extroadinary teraine that surrounded us. The lights from the lodge were welcoming and as we stepped in we were accosted by three lovely young girls demanding to know our names and telling us theirs: Efer, Winda and Tin Tin. It seems her name was Ti Tin and a guest, probably Belgium, had added the n. Before I'd consumed my first beer I knew I was going to like this place. It just felt special and not just because of the girls. Everyone was happy and helpful.
The restaurant/bar area was very comfortable with good solid dark wood chairs and tables, the food was adequaate but the service was good and the prices did not reflect the location. In England this would be a very expensive place. We spent a very relaxing few hours eating substantial food and drinking lots of cold, reasonably priced Bintang beer all served by a team of well mannered, smiling, lovely young ladies. Every time I walked into the place, approached the bar or requested assistance it invoked a beaming smile and 'yes Peter'. These were 'Smiley's Angels not Charlie's.
The last hour took us up and up round some scary bends at a breakneck speed. If the bus hadn't been old it could have got seriously frightening. As we climbed the daylight faded quickly and the sky above the mountain turned crimsen as though the sky was on fire. It reminded me of the last scenes in Lord of the Rings as the two Hobbits headed up to Modor. When we arrived at the lodge the sky was black and gave no indication of the extroadinary teraine that surrounded us. The lights from the lodge were welcoming and as we stepped in we were accosted by three lovely young girls demanding to know our names and telling us theirs: Efer, Winda and Tin Tin. It seems her name was Ti Tin and a guest, probably Belgium, had added the n. Before I'd consumed my first beer I knew I was going to like this place. It just felt special and not just because of the girls. Everyone was happy and helpful.
The restaurant/bar area was very comfortable with good solid dark wood chairs and tables, the food was adequaate but the service was good and the prices did not reflect the location. In England this would be a very expensive place. We spent a very relaxing few hours eating substantial food and drinking lots of cold, reasonably priced Bintang beer all served by a team of well mannered, smiling, lovely young ladies. Every time I walked into the place, approached the bar or requested assistance it invoked a beaming smile and 'yes Peter'. These were 'Smiley's Angels not Charlie's.
66 Day: Tuesday 27th: Yogyakarta - Ngawi
We should have been heading for Solo but for some reason Leighton suddenly announced, last night, that we were now going to Ngawi. He said by missing out Solo we would cut the following days 14 hour journey to Mt Bromo down to only 7. It seemed reasonable to have two 7 hour trips, however, we arrived at the non-discript shit hole of a town after only three and half hours so we couldn't workout how it saved any time. When we looked at the map Solo and Ngawi were quite close.
I can't remember much about the journey, according to Anne I fell asleep. It's quite easy to do it because we have so much room on the bus and it's quiet with the noisey ones staying behind in Thailand for the full moon party on Koh Penang. We've heard that Mike has been beaten up along with J.P Duggan who's also broken his arm in a seperate incident, Das fell off a bike and has seriously damaged his foot and Geof has burnt the back of his neck playing with fire. We'll find out the details in Bali when they all turn up in a few days time.
We arrived at the Hotel Sukowati which looked modern with good facilities at 3.30pm. Our room was ok but very small and hot and the air con was pretty poor. It seems the town was over a kilomotre away from the hotel and when I asked the receptionist for a map of the area he took me outside to show me a map of Indonesia on the wall. During our conversation a Greek from Melbourne, very proud of his association with it and its' culture, gave me the lowdown on the town. In short too far, nothing to see, don't go. I'm glad we took his advice within an hour the heavens really opened and I think there must be a god because Leighton got drowned and spent most of the night trying to dry out his passport with Anne's hairdryer.
We spent the afternoon drinking Bintang and, as dusk descended, watching the most amazing bat catching large insects outside the hotel reception. As he turned and crossed in front of the large moonshaped forecourt lights with his large transparent wings stretched out it looked like a scene from a Hammer horror film. I also saw a very large brown rat scurry across the hotel drive. When the ones who went straight off to town returned they confirmed the Melbourne Greek's assessment. Scooby who can always find danger but who alas has been very quiet since leaving the others behind in Thailand told us as we ate dinner how he stepped back into what he thought was dog poo but on looking down found it was a dead rat which had swollen in the sun and then exploded under his weight.
Needles to say that surprisingly the food at night was good. Went to bed with little to write home about. The bat was the highspot of the day for me but not Scooby.
I can't remember much about the journey, according to Anne I fell asleep. It's quite easy to do it because we have so much room on the bus and it's quiet with the noisey ones staying behind in Thailand for the full moon party on Koh Penang. We've heard that Mike has been beaten up along with J.P Duggan who's also broken his arm in a seperate incident, Das fell off a bike and has seriously damaged his foot and Geof has burnt the back of his neck playing with fire. We'll find out the details in Bali when they all turn up in a few days time.
We arrived at the Hotel Sukowati which looked modern with good facilities at 3.30pm. Our room was ok but very small and hot and the air con was pretty poor. It seems the town was over a kilomotre away from the hotel and when I asked the receptionist for a map of the area he took me outside to show me a map of Indonesia on the wall. During our conversation a Greek from Melbourne, very proud of his association with it and its' culture, gave me the lowdown on the town. In short too far, nothing to see, don't go. I'm glad we took his advice within an hour the heavens really opened and I think there must be a god because Leighton got drowned and spent most of the night trying to dry out his passport with Anne's hairdryer.
We spent the afternoon drinking Bintang and, as dusk descended, watching the most amazing bat catching large insects outside the hotel reception. As he turned and crossed in front of the large moonshaped forecourt lights with his large transparent wings stretched out it looked like a scene from a Hammer horror film. I also saw a very large brown rat scurry across the hotel drive. When the ones who went straight off to town returned they confirmed the Melbourne Greek's assessment. Scooby who can always find danger but who alas has been very quiet since leaving the others behind in Thailand told us as we ate dinner how he stepped back into what he thought was dog poo but on looking down found it was a dead rat which had swollen in the sun and then exploded under his weight.
Needles to say that surprisingly the food at night was good. Went to bed with little to write home about. The bat was the highspot of the day for me but not Scooby.
Friday 1 February 2008
65 Day: Monday 26th: Yogyakarta
Breakfast was very poor with cold scrambled eggs, white toast and a kind of puried fruit, tea or coffee with no milk. Fruit jiuce was extra like the air con and when it came it was watered down cordial.
After breakfast set off to visited an indoor market, the Sultan's Palace and silver factory in the morning. The market was quite interesting for its shear size. On one occasion Anne got left behind with Mas and for a few moments I was worried for them. What was good was the comradeship of the store holders, porters, etc market workers very much like the markets in Sheffield when I was young. Every isle had a character keeping the place human with their wise cracks.
The Royal Palace was not to my liking and mainly about wealth, privilege and status. The silver factory was quite amazing and dangerous. All the goods were designed and made by the locals and sold at knocked down prices which Anne and John could resist. John more so than Anne, eventually walking away with a considerable bill for jewelry.
We were heading back to the hotel for lunch (not in the hotel) before heading to see a temple. Only a handful of us set off to see the temple. When we arrived we found out that it was Borobodou one of the must see tourist sites on Java. It is a 9th Century Budhist Temple.
From a distance it reminded me of an Inca temple like a very large stone cake three tier high. The walls on each level consisted of stone statues and carvings depicting various aspects of Budha. Our guide was brilliant, being very knowledgable and funny. His name was Budha and he was hoping for enlightenment at some future point. in the after and fish restaurant at night. the site had been seriously damaged by an earthquake and access was limited but sufficient to stand in awe at the massive ediface stood in the middle of a field. The builders had covered it in earth to stop Muslim invaders taking it and it was only discovered 300 years ago. The task of covering it with soil to hide it was remarkable enough but possible understandable.
When we arrived back at the hotel and those who stayed behind found out the temple was Borobodou another argument broke out. The guide didn't think it was important enough to tell us its nameand leighton was not aware. Things improved later when Leighton sourced our evening meal at famous restaurant serving traditional Indonesian food. The food of fish and meats was served on Palm leaves and all agreed it was excellent. This place also had a good live trio playing mainly Beatles and Bob Marley classics. They seemed generally surprised to have customers singing along with them and they thanked us before we left.
After breakfast set off to visited an indoor market, the Sultan's Palace and silver factory in the morning. The market was quite interesting for its shear size. On one occasion Anne got left behind with Mas and for a few moments I was worried for them. What was good was the comradeship of the store holders, porters, etc market workers very much like the markets in Sheffield when I was young. Every isle had a character keeping the place human with their wise cracks.
The Royal Palace was not to my liking and mainly about wealth, privilege and status. The silver factory was quite amazing and dangerous. All the goods were designed and made by the locals and sold at knocked down prices which Anne and John could resist. John more so than Anne, eventually walking away with a considerable bill for jewelry.
We were heading back to the hotel for lunch (not in the hotel) before heading to see a temple. Only a handful of us set off to see the temple. When we arrived we found out that it was Borobodou one of the must see tourist sites on Java. It is a 9th Century Budhist Temple.
From a distance it reminded me of an Inca temple like a very large stone cake three tier high. The walls on each level consisted of stone statues and carvings depicting various aspects of Budha. Our guide was brilliant, being very knowledgable and funny. His name was Budha and he was hoping for enlightenment at some future point. in the after and fish restaurant at night. the site had been seriously damaged by an earthquake and access was limited but sufficient to stand in awe at the massive ediface stood in the middle of a field. The builders had covered it in earth to stop Muslim invaders taking it and it was only discovered 300 years ago. The task of covering it with soil to hide it was remarkable enough but possible understandable.
When we arrived back at the hotel and those who stayed behind found out the temple was Borobodou another argument broke out. The guide didn't think it was important enough to tell us its nameand leighton was not aware. Things improved later when Leighton sourced our evening meal at famous restaurant serving traditional Indonesian food. The food of fish and meats was served on Palm leaves and all agreed it was excellent. This place also had a good live trio playing mainly Beatles and Bob Marley classics. They seemed generally surprised to have customers singing along with them and they thanked us before we left.
64 Day: Sunday 25th: Bukkitingi - Pedang Airport - Yogyakarta
The dreaded day had arrived, time to get on yet another plane. As we set out Leighton informed us that we were not driving from Jakarta as previously told but doing two flights. The first as previously stated a one and a half hour flight to the capital but now followed by another one and half hours later to Yogatarka. Although the second flight was only an hour I was not well pleased. This is now making a mockery of the idea of an overland trip to OZ. If all goes to plan we will have caught four planes. Mac announced in the café yesterday before our guided tour that he was taking public transport and not flying. The journey time is 29 hours down to the ferry to Java. I would have gone with him but for the logistics of our luggage. He's the only one staying true to the original ideal. We calculated in the café that only six of us have stayed with the coach all the way. The list consists of Fe, Viv, Claire, Zoe, Anne and myself. All the rest have left to do other things. At the moment we are 18 and it will be interesting to see who turns up in Bali for the last flight.
The drive to the airport was interesting with beautiful views of a valley and its' river, a 75 metre high waterfall and a single rail line which looked disused but added romance to the scene. After a few miles Kate announced she'd left her passport back at the hotel. After a phone call the hotel agreed to send it to the airport by car.
Pedang Airport looked very pleasant from the outside with low buildings roughly based on traditional wooden structures. The inside was just a large hall to hold people with very few shops, bars etc and no sign of alcohol. From my point of view it was just another nervous environment to sit around waiting in. It became very clear that the plane was late and this could well jepordise catching our connection. A thirty minute delay became an hour. There was no sign of any planes carrying the Adamair logo. Eventually an orange 737, looking for all the world like Easyjet, landed and quickly taxied into place and shed its' passengers. Within minutes we were boarding and taking off. The 90 minute flight was okay but would have been better if they'd handed out cold alcoholic drinks instead of cartons of warm water. Very lucky Anne had found me cold cans of beer in the airport. The connecting flight took off over 90 minutes late and did provide Anne with beautiful sunset on her side of the plane. I sat quietly watching a cloud storm in the distance and found the landing at Yogyakarta smoother than at Jakarta.
The journey from the airport to the hotel scheduled for an hour took about 15 minutes. The hotel was yet again a basic affair with a money grabbing owner. Our room had an air con blower which only worked once we'd paid the manager 50,000 rm a day. When I pointed out we had no hot water and would he reduce the price accordingly he said no. I replied he could bollocks for the money. The breakfasts were very poor consisting of half toasted sweat bread, a strange tasting butter which I compared to Kerrygold and almost started a war between the Irish and myself. There was no fruit juice to drink just green tea or cups of sludgy coffee. The only thing that saved this place was the swimming pool which was clean and the area around it. Had it not been for this I think there would have been a mass walkout.
The area surrounding the hotel was a backpackers' haven with lots of cheap bars, cafes, restaurants, internet cafes etc, etc. The little restaurant/ bar next door was buzzing by the time we'd checked in and walked the twenty five yards from our room to its front door. A group of teenagers playing guitar, fiddle, bass, percussion and mandelin had many of the bus singing along with old time favourites: Beatles, Stones, Bob Marley and Everly Bros numbers etc. The food was very good to. The band played for an hour or so and then left to carry on a few doors down at the Ragae Bar.
The regae bar was a dissapointment, the lads were now amplified but still good but the beer was dearer and and there was nothing else alcoholic to satisfy Anne and John.
The drive to the airport was interesting with beautiful views of a valley and its' river, a 75 metre high waterfall and a single rail line which looked disused but added romance to the scene. After a few miles Kate announced she'd left her passport back at the hotel. After a phone call the hotel agreed to send it to the airport by car.
Pedang Airport looked very pleasant from the outside with low buildings roughly based on traditional wooden structures. The inside was just a large hall to hold people with very few shops, bars etc and no sign of alcohol. From my point of view it was just another nervous environment to sit around waiting in. It became very clear that the plane was late and this could well jepordise catching our connection. A thirty minute delay became an hour. There was no sign of any planes carrying the Adamair logo. Eventually an orange 737, looking for all the world like Easyjet, landed and quickly taxied into place and shed its' passengers. Within minutes we were boarding and taking off. The 90 minute flight was okay but would have been better if they'd handed out cold alcoholic drinks instead of cartons of warm water. Very lucky Anne had found me cold cans of beer in the airport. The connecting flight took off over 90 minutes late and did provide Anne with beautiful sunset on her side of the plane. I sat quietly watching a cloud storm in the distance and found the landing at Yogyakarta smoother than at Jakarta.
The journey from the airport to the hotel scheduled for an hour took about 15 minutes. The hotel was yet again a basic affair with a money grabbing owner. Our room had an air con blower which only worked once we'd paid the manager 50,000 rm a day. When I pointed out we had no hot water and would he reduce the price accordingly he said no. I replied he could bollocks for the money. The breakfasts were very poor consisting of half toasted sweat bread, a strange tasting butter which I compared to Kerrygold and almost started a war between the Irish and myself. There was no fruit juice to drink just green tea or cups of sludgy coffee. The only thing that saved this place was the swimming pool which was clean and the area around it. Had it not been for this I think there would have been a mass walkout.
The area surrounding the hotel was a backpackers' haven with lots of cheap bars, cafes, restaurants, internet cafes etc, etc. The little restaurant/ bar next door was buzzing by the time we'd checked in and walked the twenty five yards from our room to its front door. A group of teenagers playing guitar, fiddle, bass, percussion and mandelin had many of the bus singing along with old time favourites: Beatles, Stones, Bob Marley and Everly Bros numbers etc. The food was very good to. The band played for an hour or so and then left to carry on a few doors down at the Ragae Bar.
The regae bar was a dissapointment, the lads were now amplified but still good but the beer was dearer and and there was nothing else alcoholic to satisfy Anne and John.
63 Day: Saturday 24th: Bukittinggi, Hotel Mitre Arena Gemini
Didn't get out of bed until 10.00am, had a leisurely mandi and breakfast and set off to meet Awanga our new friend and guide for the day. He approached us well before we reached the café and even though I told him we were coming he didn't seem to trust us. I explained I was trying to find a sim for my phone and he organised it immediately. Down at the Turret Anne and Ted were having drinks when we joined them. By the time we all jumped into his minibus we now numbered six. This included Noreen, Ted, John, Mac, Anne and myself of course.
The tour to see the flower started with a drive through beautiful countryside and well kept little hamlets with tidy gardens and immaculately manicured paddy fields. Awang had told us he was not allowed to take us to see the flower and must hand us over to a local guide. The walk with our new guide to the flower started easy enough down into a series of paddy fields which in itself was a revelation and an education. What looks so natural from above consists of carefully manmade and maintained mounds and water courses. As we made our way carefully walking on the top of the mounds we passed smiling workers, ankle deep maintaining the structures. One old man who was very willing to have his photo taken as he used a rotavator to turn the soil whilst others were attending to the mounds gave us a large smile and welcoming wave. Peacefully grazing by the side of the field was a very large oxen who looked as though he could do some serious damage with his large horns.
As we made our way to the top of the fields we dropped into the stream which was the life source of the system. Things now began to get a little more demanding as we negotiated swamps, fallen trees and bushes and leaches. As I was stood with the new guide (forgot his name) he folded his leg behind him, pointed to a very small black strip and said 'Leach'. He then pulled it off, grabbed a large leaf, placed the mite on it, took out his lighter and began to burn both until it was dead. I was surprised he'd killed it but I understood him to say that it takes his blood and he takes its' life. A kind of fair swap. We had now been walking steadily upwards for half an hour and the humidity (70%) was causing me some distress. Things gradually got better as the stream now entered a very narrow gorge, one person wide, with the walls rising 10 to 15 feet above us. At least it gave some shade and the air was cool but damp. This did not last long and once again we were crossing the stream from side to side and rising steeply. The last few hundred yards took us up the side of the valley with only the exposed tree roots as help.
By the time we got our first glimpse of the flower my clothes were drenched in sweat. I actually physically shook my head and the sweat sprayed off like water off a dog's back after having a swim. I was actually feeling a little sick and dizzy from the heat and humidity and had to take a little time to compose myself. A few minutes early the new guide asked me if I play sports and when I said many years ago he replied you still have stamina which I thought was a strange word for him to use with his very limited vocabulary. Only twenty minutes later and my stamina had left me as I hung on to the tree roots on a 60 degree incline staring at what looked like a very big plastic flower some 60 cm across. We were informed that this is not the biggest they grow, quite often they pass 100 cms. The flower only blooms for seven days and was surrounded by black looking cow pats which we were told were dead rotting ones. The flower is a parasite that lives off the tree roots. It took a good hour, of some difficult walking at times, but it was a magical moment for all six of us and one we will remember. We actually felt as though we'd achieved something. Sitting on a bus for ten weeks is not the best way to train for a jungle trek, all be it, a very small one. I will remember for the rest of my life the heat and sweat and John doing a very good Tarzan impression that really echoed up the narrow gorge and made the guide laugh and Anne shouting ,getting me out of here', etc. If you've got a couple of thousand pounds to spare and time on your hands you to can see the world's largest flower. If not go to Kew Gardens, they've got one to.
Our next call was to the so called Grand Canyon which was little more than a river gorge. Although it was disappointing we didn't care we'd done enough seeing the flower to warrant the 150,000 rm a piece. As we sat looking up the gorge from a drink stall we got our first view of an Indonesian fighting cock caged by the roadside. His proud chest was bare and he looked very much worse for wear. John remarked you should see the other one. I also made another interesting observation, at least to me, when we asked for ice cold drinks at the stall the lad serving said he hadn't a fridge but took our money and went across the road to another stall and came back with them. Not something that would happen in the UK. The same thing happened in Varanasi in India when the photo shop sent out a runner to get me the right card reader for my camera. Strange that in small communities outsourcing should exist.
The last part of our tour led us up the beautiful hillside past more well manicured hamlets and gardens to overlook the lake. The lake looked beautiful and remind me of Crater Lake in Southern Oregon USA: it also being a very large volcano. All that was missing was the snow.
It's strange how things turn out, just twenty four hours earlier I was handing over a deposit to a complete stranger with little expectation of a good outcome and now we have had the pleasure and satisfaction of the flower walk, the scenic drive through the area with our very own private chauffeur who also bought us little treats of the area to try, the stunning views over the lake and most important of all the company of a very interesting guide and new friend. We all agreed we'd just had one of the best days so far of the whole trip.
The days was not over yet by a long way. In our conversation with Anita the night before she'd promised to prepare us a local traditional meal. When we arrived at the Turret the table was beautifully laid out with tablecloth, serviettes and a central revolving china food server. The food came very fast and consisted of a very tasty soup of chicken, noodles, vegetables and prawns; fish steamed and served in palm leaves and then the selection of dishes placed in the revolving serving dishes. To finish we had a kind of mango paste pressed and served once again in palm leaves. There were a selection of chicken, beef and vegetables and fried rice. The total bill for six people including the beers and fruit juices came to 500,000 rm just over £30. Our guide Awang who sat on the next table kindly refused my invitation to eat with us as though it was not the done thing.
After our excellent meal we crossed the road to another bar to celebrate Mary's birthday. As we set off Awang leapt onto his motorbike to find a birthday cake and Anita found a single candle. Things in the other bar was far from jovial. Sue and Mary and a few others who'd ignored our comments about the excellent food and service at the Turret had now sat for over an hour for food. Mary was arguing with a young barman come waiter about her stake meal which had just arrived. 'She asked him what is it?' He said 'stake'. She replied 'show me'. This was repeated with the waiter looking more embarrassed. Eventually Mary grabbed the folk and slid it across the centre of the plate saying 'where's the stake'. Sue and Mary walked out after a round of happy birthday.
We spent the last part of the evening checking our mail and trying to delete the junk mail. All in all an excellent day with a very good tour with a lovely man as a guide, great food cooked by a very charming woman, plenty of cold cheap beer and a bit of fun to finish off with.
The tour to see the flower started with a drive through beautiful countryside and well kept little hamlets with tidy gardens and immaculately manicured paddy fields. Awang had told us he was not allowed to take us to see the flower and must hand us over to a local guide. The walk with our new guide to the flower started easy enough down into a series of paddy fields which in itself was a revelation and an education. What looks so natural from above consists of carefully manmade and maintained mounds and water courses. As we made our way carefully walking on the top of the mounds we passed smiling workers, ankle deep maintaining the structures. One old man who was very willing to have his photo taken as he used a rotavator to turn the soil whilst others were attending to the mounds gave us a large smile and welcoming wave. Peacefully grazing by the side of the field was a very large oxen who looked as though he could do some serious damage with his large horns.
As we made our way to the top of the fields we dropped into the stream which was the life source of the system. Things now began to get a little more demanding as we negotiated swamps, fallen trees and bushes and leaches. As I was stood with the new guide (forgot his name) he folded his leg behind him, pointed to a very small black strip and said 'Leach'. He then pulled it off, grabbed a large leaf, placed the mite on it, took out his lighter and began to burn both until it was dead. I was surprised he'd killed it but I understood him to say that it takes his blood and he takes its' life. A kind of fair swap. We had now been walking steadily upwards for half an hour and the humidity (70%) was causing me some distress. Things gradually got better as the stream now entered a very narrow gorge, one person wide, with the walls rising 10 to 15 feet above us. At least it gave some shade and the air was cool but damp. This did not last long and once again we were crossing the stream from side to side and rising steeply. The last few hundred yards took us up the side of the valley with only the exposed tree roots as help.
By the time we got our first glimpse of the flower my clothes were drenched in sweat. I actually physically shook my head and the sweat sprayed off like water off a dog's back after having a swim. I was actually feeling a little sick and dizzy from the heat and humidity and had to take a little time to compose myself. A few minutes early the new guide asked me if I play sports and when I said many years ago he replied you still have stamina which I thought was a strange word for him to use with his very limited vocabulary. Only twenty minutes later and my stamina had left me as I hung on to the tree roots on a 60 degree incline staring at what looked like a very big plastic flower some 60 cm across. We were informed that this is not the biggest they grow, quite often they pass 100 cms. The flower only blooms for seven days and was surrounded by black looking cow pats which we were told were dead rotting ones. The flower is a parasite that lives off the tree roots. It took a good hour, of some difficult walking at times, but it was a magical moment for all six of us and one we will remember. We actually felt as though we'd achieved something. Sitting on a bus for ten weeks is not the best way to train for a jungle trek, all be it, a very small one. I will remember for the rest of my life the heat and sweat and John doing a very good Tarzan impression that really echoed up the narrow gorge and made the guide laugh and Anne shouting ,getting me out of here', etc. If you've got a couple of thousand pounds to spare and time on your hands you to can see the world's largest flower. If not go to Kew Gardens, they've got one to.
Our next call was to the so called Grand Canyon which was little more than a river gorge. Although it was disappointing we didn't care we'd done enough seeing the flower to warrant the 150,000 rm a piece. As we sat looking up the gorge from a drink stall we got our first view of an Indonesian fighting cock caged by the roadside. His proud chest was bare and he looked very much worse for wear. John remarked you should see the other one. I also made another interesting observation, at least to me, when we asked for ice cold drinks at the stall the lad serving said he hadn't a fridge but took our money and went across the road to another stall and came back with them. Not something that would happen in the UK. The same thing happened in Varanasi in India when the photo shop sent out a runner to get me the right card reader for my camera. Strange that in small communities outsourcing should exist.
The last part of our tour led us up the beautiful hillside past more well manicured hamlets and gardens to overlook the lake. The lake looked beautiful and remind me of Crater Lake in Southern Oregon USA: it also being a very large volcano. All that was missing was the snow.
It's strange how things turn out, just twenty four hours earlier I was handing over a deposit to a complete stranger with little expectation of a good outcome and now we have had the pleasure and satisfaction of the flower walk, the scenic drive through the area with our very own private chauffeur who also bought us little treats of the area to try, the stunning views over the lake and most important of all the company of a very interesting guide and new friend. We all agreed we'd just had one of the best days so far of the whole trip.
The days was not over yet by a long way. In our conversation with Anita the night before she'd promised to prepare us a local traditional meal. When we arrived at the Turret the table was beautifully laid out with tablecloth, serviettes and a central revolving china food server. The food came very fast and consisted of a very tasty soup of chicken, noodles, vegetables and prawns; fish steamed and served in palm leaves and then the selection of dishes placed in the revolving serving dishes. To finish we had a kind of mango paste pressed and served once again in palm leaves. There were a selection of chicken, beef and vegetables and fried rice. The total bill for six people including the beers and fruit juices came to 500,000 rm just over £30. Our guide Awang who sat on the next table kindly refused my invitation to eat with us as though it was not the done thing.
After our excellent meal we crossed the road to another bar to celebrate Mary's birthday. As we set off Awang leapt onto his motorbike to find a birthday cake and Anita found a single candle. Things in the other bar was far from jovial. Sue and Mary and a few others who'd ignored our comments about the excellent food and service at the Turret had now sat for over an hour for food. Mary was arguing with a young barman come waiter about her stake meal which had just arrived. 'She asked him what is it?' He said 'stake'. She replied 'show me'. This was repeated with the waiter looking more embarrassed. Eventually Mary grabbed the folk and slid it across the centre of the plate saying 'where's the stake'. Sue and Mary walked out after a round of happy birthday.
We spent the last part of the evening checking our mail and trying to delete the junk mail. All in all an excellent day with a very good tour with a lovely man as a guide, great food cooked by a very charming woman, plenty of cold cheap beer and a bit of fun to finish off with.
62 Day: Friday 23rd: Pekanbaru - Bukkitingi
We were glad to get away from the dive and all the conversation on the bus was about it and the two back in London who'd booked it and none of it was complimentary.
The journey was through some beautiful scenery with hills, rivers and dense jungle everywhere. Interspersed between were traditional wooden houses with their upward curved corrugated roofs supposedly to stop devils from landing on them.
We stopped for lunch and our first taste of Indonesian food. It was ok. Once again dried up chicken and sludgy rice. There were some complaints but nothing to the ones coming. We were all aware that we were crossing the Equator today but when it was mentioned and the guide announced 'sorry we've passed it' people were not well pleased. So not only had Ozbus booked us into a terrible hotel but had also employed a guide who didn't see the point of standing on the Equator. If the hotel tonight is bad we could see fireworks.
The Hotel Mitre Arena Gemini was not a great deal better and Sue and Co upgraded to the recommended Novotel for 650,000 rm or £35 a room before we even came down from our room. Our room had a shower and mandi but no air con or fan. We agreed to stay because Bukkitingi at 900 metres above sea level should be reasonably cool at night.
After booking in we set off into town with John to find somewhere to eat. The very first place we came to on the main street was an internet café with little signs of food other than a menu. As we were reading the menu the owner came up to us introduced herself as Anita and very quickly sold the place to us. The Turret Café turned out to be a gem of a place, the food was excellent, the surroundings comfortable and calming, except for the odd noisy bike passing and the broadband link was ok.
After the Indonesian food, so far, I decided to go European and have stake and french fries. The stake was very good as was the fries and they came with an accompaniment of tomato etc salad which was the first since leaving Europe. John's Nasi Gorem, a popular Javan dish of rice, chicken, prawns etc was excellent. A kind of dish of left overs but fresh and tasty. We also had sweets which was rare. I had a bowl of delicious rice pudding with lots of cinnamin and bananas. The beer was ice cold and only 1500 rm the cheapest so far. The local brew is called Bintang and is very good but like all bottle ales gassy.
As we sat waiting for the food we were approached by a local man purporting to be a guide. He quickly brought out two photo albums of groups living as indians on one of the islands of the west coast and said he could arrange it for us. The tour was a minimum of 4 days and so was out of the question. He then presented us with a leaflet of different day tours. Eventually we settled on a half day tour to see the world's largest flower, a canyon he called grand and Lake Manga ( I think). For this we had to pay 500,000rm for three of us and I, always trusting, left a 100.000rm deposit. We left the café content, tired and tipsey agreeing to see our new friend and guide Awanga at 11.00am in the morning.
The journey was through some beautiful scenery with hills, rivers and dense jungle everywhere. Interspersed between were traditional wooden houses with their upward curved corrugated roofs supposedly to stop devils from landing on them.
We stopped for lunch and our first taste of Indonesian food. It was ok. Once again dried up chicken and sludgy rice. There were some complaints but nothing to the ones coming. We were all aware that we were crossing the Equator today but when it was mentioned and the guide announced 'sorry we've passed it' people were not well pleased. So not only had Ozbus booked us into a terrible hotel but had also employed a guide who didn't see the point of standing on the Equator. If the hotel tonight is bad we could see fireworks.
The Hotel Mitre Arena Gemini was not a great deal better and Sue and Co upgraded to the recommended Novotel for 650,000 rm or £35 a room before we even came down from our room. Our room had a shower and mandi but no air con or fan. We agreed to stay because Bukkitingi at 900 metres above sea level should be reasonably cool at night.
After booking in we set off into town with John to find somewhere to eat. The very first place we came to on the main street was an internet café with little signs of food other than a menu. As we were reading the menu the owner came up to us introduced herself as Anita and very quickly sold the place to us. The Turret Café turned out to be a gem of a place, the food was excellent, the surroundings comfortable and calming, except for the odd noisy bike passing and the broadband link was ok.
After the Indonesian food, so far, I decided to go European and have stake and french fries. The stake was very good as was the fries and they came with an accompaniment of tomato etc salad which was the first since leaving Europe. John's Nasi Gorem, a popular Javan dish of rice, chicken, prawns etc was excellent. A kind of dish of left overs but fresh and tasty. We also had sweets which was rare. I had a bowl of delicious rice pudding with lots of cinnamin and bananas. The beer was ice cold and only 1500 rm the cheapest so far. The local brew is called Bintang and is very good but like all bottle ales gassy.
As we sat waiting for the food we were approached by a local man purporting to be a guide. He quickly brought out two photo albums of groups living as indians on one of the islands of the west coast and said he could arrange it for us. The tour was a minimum of 4 days and so was out of the question. He then presented us with a leaflet of different day tours. Eventually we settled on a half day tour to see the world's largest flower, a canyon he called grand and Lake Manga ( I think). For this we had to pay 500,000rm for three of us and I, always trusting, left a 100.000rm deposit. We left the café content, tired and tipsey agreeing to see our new friend and guide Awanga at 11.00am in the morning.
61 Day: Thursday 22nd: Melaka - Ferry to Dumai - Pekanbaru
The drive from the Hotel Wisma Indah to the ferry port took only a few minutes and so it was hard to know why we'd had another reasonably early start when the ferry departure time was 10.30pm. The ferry journey to Somatra was two and half hours long and I was looking forward to lounging on the deck taking in the beautiful Pacific Ocean and the Islands. My first impression of the ferry was that we were entering a catamaran but as we were helped over a short gap with the sea below us I deduced there were two boats and very narrow ones at that. Once inside the choice of seats was limited; down in the bowels, at water level or up one deck. Just by chance we found ourselves in the upper seating area along with a hundred or so others. This boat was as basic as the toilets in this area and whilst on the subject it did have one which consisted of a hole in one corner and what we now call a mandip beside it. A mandip is a trough of water with a bucket type ladle. The idea is to use the water from the trough to either wash or shower yourself with or in this instance to flush what ever needs removing.
The passengers consisted of mainly families etc but besides these there were some seriously shifty looking characters who seemed to be on excellent terms with the captain and his crew. I have to say they didn't look like sharholders of the ferry line which I think was Seatran. John and myself had decided after watching all the characters going in and out of the cockpit that it must either be a tardis or else it was a larger area than the passenger area. After thorough investigation I had established there was only one way out of this sardine tin and that was by the emergency exit which seemed to be being used by the shifty characters who were now openly carrying large bundles of money. We were heading into the Adaman Sea a notorious stretch of water for pirates. The only possible explanation as far as we could see was that these wee money carrying accomplaces just waiting to give the signal once they'd established there were rich pickings aboad. Furthermore in the central isle one to every two rows were very big black buckets which must be used by the pirates to speed up the process of collecting everyones valuables. To make things even more suspicious we suddenly stopped after only a few minutes of traveling for a family to be brought aboad. Very strange.
We were suddenly distracted by the video movie which began with a loud explosion as a suicide bomber blew himself up along with the tuck tuck carrying him and a street full of people. The whole plot from there on seemed to centre around an elderly man who had lost three members of his family, seen bent praying at the graves, and arguing with tuc tuc drivers. We couldn't decide why he hated or distrusted tuck tuck drivers and concluded that he like the one in Bangkok who refused to take us where we asked had driven them to somewhere else instead of a military target killing innocent people and hopefully himself. A tuck tuck carrying a suicide bomber is a scary thought indeed similar to a cruise misile that has gone astray. The journey was less than that stated and we were disembarking when we should have been watching the conclusion to the film.
We passed through Customs and Immigration without hinderance once we'd paid our 25 dollors a piece for a visa. Indeed I have to say the officials were very friendly, welcoming and helpful which is more than you can say for British customs and within half an hour we were on the next bus with our new guide Anton.
The hotel Wisma Indah deserves acknowledgement as one of the worst hotels of the trip. It was dark, dirty and seedy, no air con, shower, wash bason or roof fan. The walls in the so called bathroom were dirty and covered in damp mould with a large a hole leading to the outside and big enough to let rats in. The place was an haven for mosquitoes, rats and cockroaches and was on a par with the other dump in Calcutta.
We arrived quite late and decided to find a bar and hope the room would look better later. It was just our luck to find a five star hotel down the road a short way. It had a very large outdoor swimming pool, a welcoming bar if not a little expensive (£3 a small can of local Bitang) and two rooms vacant out of a total of 150. One of the rooms a penthouse suite was £80 an night whilst a standard one was a mere £30. How much Ozbus was paid for the shit hole up the road is anyones guess. Mark, Mac, Sue and Mary booked the two rooms whilst we went back to confirm that our ours was as bad after beer. It was.
The passengers consisted of mainly families etc but besides these there were some seriously shifty looking characters who seemed to be on excellent terms with the captain and his crew. I have to say they didn't look like sharholders of the ferry line which I think was Seatran. John and myself had decided after watching all the characters going in and out of the cockpit that it must either be a tardis or else it was a larger area than the passenger area. After thorough investigation I had established there was only one way out of this sardine tin and that was by the emergency exit which seemed to be being used by the shifty characters who were now openly carrying large bundles of money. We were heading into the Adaman Sea a notorious stretch of water for pirates. The only possible explanation as far as we could see was that these wee money carrying accomplaces just waiting to give the signal once they'd established there were rich pickings aboad. Furthermore in the central isle one to every two rows were very big black buckets which must be used by the pirates to speed up the process of collecting everyones valuables. To make things even more suspicious we suddenly stopped after only a few minutes of traveling for a family to be brought aboad. Very strange.
We were suddenly distracted by the video movie which began with a loud explosion as a suicide bomber blew himself up along with the tuck tuck carrying him and a street full of people. The whole plot from there on seemed to centre around an elderly man who had lost three members of his family, seen bent praying at the graves, and arguing with tuc tuc drivers. We couldn't decide why he hated or distrusted tuck tuck drivers and concluded that he like the one in Bangkok who refused to take us where we asked had driven them to somewhere else instead of a military target killing innocent people and hopefully himself. A tuck tuck carrying a suicide bomber is a scary thought indeed similar to a cruise misile that has gone astray. The journey was less than that stated and we were disembarking when we should have been watching the conclusion to the film.
We passed through Customs and Immigration without hinderance once we'd paid our 25 dollors a piece for a visa. Indeed I have to say the officials were very friendly, welcoming and helpful which is more than you can say for British customs and within half an hour we were on the next bus with our new guide Anton.
The hotel Wisma Indah deserves acknowledgement as one of the worst hotels of the trip. It was dark, dirty and seedy, no air con, shower, wash bason or roof fan. The walls in the so called bathroom were dirty and covered in damp mould with a large a hole leading to the outside and big enough to let rats in. The place was an haven for mosquitoes, rats and cockroaches and was on a par with the other dump in Calcutta.
We arrived quite late and decided to find a bar and hope the room would look better later. It was just our luck to find a five star hotel down the road a short way. It had a very large outdoor swimming pool, a welcoming bar if not a little expensive (£3 a small can of local Bitang) and two rooms vacant out of a total of 150. One of the rooms a penthouse suite was £80 an night whilst a standard one was a mere £30. How much Ozbus was paid for the shit hole up the road is anyones guess. Mark, Mac, Sue and Mary booked the two rooms whilst we went back to confirm that our ours was as bad after beer. It was.
60 Day: Wednesday 21st November: Penang - Khaula Lumpar - Melaka
As we entered KL, as our guide calls it, it looked quite impressive with all the very tall unusually shaped biuldings. Eventually we made it to the two towers which were according to some on the bus (Mark who loves big buildings) the tallest in the world for a time. The structure was very impressive but the interior or the bit we were allowed into to was as bland and boring as Meadowhall in Sheffield. Some would have liked to go to the top but the public are not allowed past the connecting bridge about half way up and only 1600 tickets are issued each morning on a first come basis. I checked the price of the new Nokia N95 and an Apple laptop. Both were no cheaper than on the internet back home. However, in its favour Kl was clean and although bustling very friendly.
When we got to the hotel we a good room but changed it with Mark because his had a double bed. It did have big window looking out over Melaka's China Town.
Family meeting to inform us we are now flying from Pedang on Somatra to Jakarta because of the state of the roads which are supposedly flooded. I asked our Malaysian guide and he said the roads in Indonesia are always bad but he hadn't heard of any serious weather lately. This trip is absolutely impossible in twelve weeks.
Went to change some money into Indonesian to pay for the visa tomorrow. Our guide in Indonesia blames the cost of the visa on the sudden decrease in tourist numbers over the past five or six years. We hoped this would save time at the border. I hope it's as easy as the crossing from Thailand into Malaysia. Something else which was good about Malaysia along with the archetecture, the friendly people (especially our guide and driver) and the roads. I have to say the people have been great since leaving home.
After the meeting we went for something to eat across the road in a chinese family run café. The food was awful, Anne had a mixed selection and I had a soup with dumplings and a chicken wrap. Anne's consisted of a selection of reconstituted meats that were cold and dry whilst my soup tasted like dishwater and the chicken was wrapped in tin foil and although the sauce was tasty the meat was poor. Then we went to the Discovery Bar, a famous place for backpackers, to have a beer. After a pleasant conversation with the female owner we signed her visiters book and watched the tea wallah next door.
The bar had an outside area with a stall and a very thin chinese looking man selling herbal teas. Cars, taxis, tuck tucks and pedestrians all stopped to take tea. Many came for tea and take aways which were served in little plastic bags with a pull string to seal them. Those drinking at the stall followed a routine played out with the man serving the teas. He would take a bowl wipe it round with a cloth and pour the tea from a silver teapot which he raised and lowered above the bowl as though to put a head on it. The customer would then take the bowl in two hands and swerl it round presumably to disovle all the sugar and then drink in either one gulp or two. The whole process only took a minute at most and while we watched 20 to 30 people passed through.
When we got to the hotel we a good room but changed it with Mark because his had a double bed. It did have big window looking out over Melaka's China Town.
Family meeting to inform us we are now flying from Pedang on Somatra to Jakarta because of the state of the roads which are supposedly flooded. I asked our Malaysian guide and he said the roads in Indonesia are always bad but he hadn't heard of any serious weather lately. This trip is absolutely impossible in twelve weeks.
Went to change some money into Indonesian to pay for the visa tomorrow. Our guide in Indonesia blames the cost of the visa on the sudden decrease in tourist numbers over the past five or six years. We hoped this would save time at the border. I hope it's as easy as the crossing from Thailand into Malaysia. Something else which was good about Malaysia along with the archetecture, the friendly people (especially our guide and driver) and the roads. I have to say the people have been great since leaving home.
After the meeting we went for something to eat across the road in a chinese family run café. The food was awful, Anne had a mixed selection and I had a soup with dumplings and a chicken wrap. Anne's consisted of a selection of reconstituted meats that were cold and dry whilst my soup tasted like dishwater and the chicken was wrapped in tin foil and although the sauce was tasty the meat was poor. Then we went to the Discovery Bar, a famous place for backpackers, to have a beer. After a pleasant conversation with the female owner we signed her visiters book and watched the tea wallah next door.
The bar had an outside area with a stall and a very thin chinese looking man selling herbal teas. Cars, taxis, tuck tucks and pedestrians all stopped to take tea. Many came for tea and take aways which were served in little plastic bags with a pull string to seal them. Those drinking at the stall followed a routine played out with the man serving the teas. He would take a bowl wipe it round with a cloth and pour the tea from a silver teapot which he raised and lowered above the bowl as though to put a head on it. The customer would then take the bowl in two hands and swerl it round presumably to disovle all the sugar and then drink in either one gulp or two. The whole process only took a minute at most and while we watched 20 to 30 people passed through.
59 Day: Tuesday 20th November: Songkhla - Penang, Malayasia
Crossed to the island over the 13 km bridge. Passed the fort built by the British and many good looking colonial buildings but many in need of renovation. It's very pleasing and somehow reasuring to be surrounded by reconisable archetecture even If much of it is in a desperate state. I can't say I like oriental archetecture.
Went to the wine shop next door to the hotel: Aldridge Australian wine cost nearly £7 a bottle.
Meal provided by Leighton was superb for the money: starter of carrot soup with brown wheaten bread, fish course of king prawn on salmon and ham salad and a main course of our choice (lamb) etc. This was probably the best meal of the whole trip and cost 30 rms about £4. I also had a bottle of Argentinian wine which was excellent.
Had an interesting conversation about socialism with John and Scooby but as always it was spoilt by Anne. This was the first and obviously the last interesting debate on this trip. I decided to go back to the hotel sooner than be talked to like some nursery kid.
We were stopping at the Hotel Cititel a five star palace. Large marble central lounge with a shopping type mall running off consisting of bars, restaurants, shops selling choculates, photo copies etc and some executive club with a ponsy looking official checking people trying to enter. Dressed in my pink sweaty tee shirt and knee length shorts I decided not to try for entrance. Next to it was a corridor running to some kind of conference room. A placard with an arrow pointing the way said 'Getting the best out of the box with Dell' and 'Assessing Staff Apraisal'. Needles to say I gave that load of bollocks a miss to. Something I couldn't miss was the fancy lift which operated with the room card. It was made by Mitsibishi and needed one of their top brains to work it. Spent about twenty minutes going up and down with a dozen other poor souls trying get the damn thing to stop at the right floor. I got little tired of smiling and saying hello to the same people each time the doors opened. Instead of going to floor seven it passed to eight and then went back down to three and then basement before repeating the process over and over again. It's still a mystery how we got out of there. In a few days time we'll be standing outside the twin towers in Kaula Lumpa. I think I’ll give their lift a miss.
So all in all the hotel looked impressive but had no atmosphere whatsoever. So much for posh hotels.
Went to the wine shop next door to the hotel: Aldridge Australian wine cost nearly £7 a bottle.
Meal provided by Leighton was superb for the money: starter of carrot soup with brown wheaten bread, fish course of king prawn on salmon and ham salad and a main course of our choice (lamb) etc. This was probably the best meal of the whole trip and cost 30 rms about £4. I also had a bottle of Argentinian wine which was excellent.
Had an interesting conversation about socialism with John and Scooby but as always it was spoilt by Anne. This was the first and obviously the last interesting debate on this trip. I decided to go back to the hotel sooner than be talked to like some nursery kid.
We were stopping at the Hotel Cititel a five star palace. Large marble central lounge with a shopping type mall running off consisting of bars, restaurants, shops selling choculates, photo copies etc and some executive club with a ponsy looking official checking people trying to enter. Dressed in my pink sweaty tee shirt and knee length shorts I decided not to try for entrance. Next to it was a corridor running to some kind of conference room. A placard with an arrow pointing the way said 'Getting the best out of the box with Dell' and 'Assessing Staff Apraisal'. Needles to say I gave that load of bollocks a miss to. Something I couldn't miss was the fancy lift which operated with the room card. It was made by Mitsibishi and needed one of their top brains to work it. Spent about twenty minutes going up and down with a dozen other poor souls trying get the damn thing to stop at the right floor. I got little tired of smiling and saying hello to the same people each time the doors opened. Instead of going to floor seven it passed to eight and then went back down to three and then basement before repeating the process over and over again. It's still a mystery how we got out of there. In a few days time we'll be standing outside the twin towers in Kaula Lumpa. I think I’ll give their lift a miss.
So all in all the hotel looked impressive but had no atmosphere whatsoever. So much for posh hotels.
58 Day: Monday 19th November: Koh Samui - Songkhla
Left Home Bay at 7.30 to catch the ferry and sadly leave the American beakfasts, the entertaing birds and this relaxing haven. Only just made the ferry. The ferry journey back was no more memorable than the outward. However, the return to the bus was quite eventful for the eventual head to head clash between to the two guides over Leighton's missing mobile. As we sat on the ferry heading to Samui Leighton suddenly discoved his mobile was missing with all the Ozbus numbers etc. He immediately assumed he'd left it on the bus with his keys which were gone. On entry to the bus his keys were there but not his phone. On informing Tami she took little notice and basically ignored him and his request for her to ask the driver. When further asked she said why didn't you tell me on the island and I would have phoned the driver. He then made out he wasn't concerned about it because she'd said we could leave antyhing on the bus. In effect he was trying to shift the blame and she was having nothing of it intimating he was drunk the morning we left Bankok and he was to blame. With Fe now demanding that she rang the police to report the theft which was tantamount to saying the driver was the thief things were made worse. He was unable to defend himself not speaking any English at all. Personally he was a good driver, pleasant, friendly and very helpful at all times and would be foolish to steal something from his own bus risking his job and prosecution. Eventually it was agreed that the police would be contacted once we arrived at the hotel.
Another session of shouting and recriminations broke out in the hotel forecourt with a policeman present this time. Eventually Tami stormed off shouting that Thai people are not thieves and that she refused to stay in his presence any longer. She also accussed him again of losing the phone as a result of being drunk in Bangkok.
The hotel we were now booking into was a fine looking establishment with three stars, swimming pool etc.
Another session of shouting and recriminations broke out in the hotel forecourt with a policeman present this time. Eventually Tami stormed off shouting that Thai people are not thieves and that she refused to stay in his presence any longer. She also accussed him again of losing the phone as a result of being drunk in Bangkok.
The hotel we were now booking into was a fine looking establishment with three stars, swimming pool etc.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)