Welcome to J's online diary :)

I've Been Busy!

It has been a busy year and I haven't written on my website for ages! Time has flown by and I can't beleive it has been 10 months since I have updated my site!

What have I been doing? Well... to summarise I got a job, rented an apartment, moved in and 2 days later Andrew arrived from the UK with his visa that took a record time of only 5 weeks! He then had three job offers in two weeks and started working. We began planning our wedding and 8 weeks before it we bought a house! The house is a project and we were flat out doing DIY making it nicer for Andrew's family's arrival. We the got married (yey!) and Andrew took me on a suprise honeymoon to Green Island!

There are lots more pics I need to put up and lots more to tell, so watch this space! The Space of Jaye Lange!

Back to Reality

After nearly 8 years away I have finally arrived back in Australia on a one way ticket. A teary goodbye to Andrew proceeded my epic 37 hours in transit between Jo'burg airport and Brisbane, but I made it. Andrew will be coming soon. He has a minor technicality that he needs a visa to come here and so has returned to the UK and submitted his application. He chose to apply in the UK as the processing time is half as long as South Africa. We are lucky to have the option. And so we are now 4 days into our 12 week wait!

A combination of never having working in Australia and not having worked for a year and a half makes job hunting feel a little surreal. That combined with the pressure of that this really counts, and is not just a job overseas makes the task a little daunting. But then I remind myself of some of the real challenges I have overcome and I realise, "how hard can this be???".

The Ring!

Well now it is official because I have the ring on my finger to prove it! We were very fortunate to be given Andrew's grandmother's ring by Andrew's parents to have reset anyway we wanted. The idea behind the design was Andrew's and after a visit to a manufacturing jewellers, a week later my ring was ready. A very special one off creation with a large bit of Lange family history in the middle! And I love it!!!!

On safari with Mum and Dad

Much to my excitement my Mum and Dad decided to come out and join Andrew and I on the very last part of our trip. I am not sure which was the greater lure - me, meeting Andrew (no they hadn't met him before!!) or the African animals. They touched down into Jo'berg looking as fresh as daisies (much to my suprise!) after their lengthy journey via Singapore from Brisbane.

As it always happens, during our first afternoon in Kruger Park we had rhino crossing the road and lions drinking and for my novice parents this seemed the norm for a safari! In fact it was one of our best game drives and no matter how much I stressed these were greats sightings I knew my Mum and Dad were thinking it was normal. However they soon learnt, as we got them up at 4am four days in a row and although we saw some cool things, we never did see an elusive leopard!

Our second game park Hluhluwe/Umfolozi proved a bit of a disappointment besides seeing all the impala babies drop until we were on our way out and a cheetah walked right across the road in front of us! This was a first sighting for me in the wild and other seasoned safari goers say that these cats are the hardest to see!

After our road trip and a night out with Andrew's parents at "Carnivore" a restaurant that serves game meat, Mum and Dad boarded another plane to visit Cape Town while they were in South Africa. It was great to see them and for them to meet Andrew, who of course got the big thumbs up!

Mum and Dad with Andrew and I in front of Priscilla

Engaged!!!

On our way up the Garden Route we stopped at a beach called "Cape St Francis" to camp. It was a beautiful evening and Andrew and I went down to the deserted beach to have sunset drinks. Andrew was up to something as I was blindfolded and left to sit on the beach sipping my drink alone.

When the blindfold came off, written in huge letters in the sand were the words "Marry me Jaye", and Andrew got down on one knee. I was so excited I barely let him finish, blurting out "of course" before he got to the end! Andrew produced a bottle of champagne (which is no mean feet when you spend 24hours together!) and we got terribly drunk! And me? Well I am terribly happy!!!

A proposition I couldn't refuse! :)

Climbing Table Mountain

Table Mountain is the essence of Cape Town. Unfortunately, due to a large number of attacks and robberies that occur on the mountain side many people no longer utilise it as they once did. We had met many travellers in the rest of Africa who had been mugged on Table Mountain. Even our Cape Tonian friends strongly warned us against going and freaked me out so much that I didn't want to take my camera.

We chose to climb on a Sunday so it would be busier, but still I was a little apprehensive. However I was impressed right at the beginning by the security that had been placed in key areas on the mountain and felt a bit more relaxed. In fact our climb went off incident free and besides the three hours of constant up hill to get to the top, I thoroughly enjoyed it!

On top of Table Mountain!

A Week of Luxury

Our first week in Cape Town we stayed with Andrew's parents in an apartment overlooking the water at Fish Hoek. From the lounge room we could watch whales swimming past! We had our own room and bathroom which were all white! After camping for the last six months this really was the height of luxury!

The apartment had a large foyer, which was luckily tiled, and all our belongings were brought in here. Only when the they had been removed of the fine Botswana/Namibian chalk like dust were items moved into our bedroom. Needless to say, the washing machine and dryer ran constantly for the first few days to achieve this.

After our week of being totally and utterly spoilt, we are not leaving Cape Town yet. We will stay with Andrew's brother Richard for another week or so before heading along the Garden Route.

 
Our luxurious apartment @ Fish Hoek where we stayed with Andrew's parents

We made it!!!!

After 227 days, 26 countries and 41 358km we have arrived in Cape Town! Woooooo Hoooooooo!

Cape Town put a real show on for us on the day we arrived. We drove into it from the north and the weather was so clear we could see Table Mountain perfectly from about 90km away! She didn't even have on her famous tablecloth of clouds!

We had arranged to meet Andrew's Mum, Dad and brother Richard at Cape Point. Andrew was worried about how we would find them amongst all the cars and people but I assumed they would find us. And they did! As we drove up over the hill there they were holding a welcome to Cape Town sign! It was a really nice welcome and I think our arrival would have been very anti-climatic if they had not been there as we would have arrived and then thought, now what???

So now "officially" our trip has come to the end. I do feel a little sad but not as much as I thought I would. Firstly, we still another couple of months of travels around South Africa and my parents are coming out to visit. Secondly, as much fun as it is being on the road, now that we are back in civilisation we sincerely appreciate all the little luxuries it brings. Finally, despite the statistic that only one in ten couples stay together after such a trip, we made it! And I am looking forward to many more adventures together. :)

Andrew and I with his parents at Cape Point

Reinforcing African Stereotypes

When Andrew and I said we were going to drive to Cape Town, people were worried about how "dangerous" Africa was. People were certain we would get attacked, robbed and have our car stolen. We were hoping to defy stereotypes by having our only robbery occur in Europe, silencing those who still think of Africa as primitive and dangerous.We would have made it. We would have proven them all wrong, but we made the mistake of going to Windhoek.

Capital cities always attract undesirables. As a rule more caution is required when visiting. We never parked the car outside of a secure compound. Never walked around with sunglasses on our heads. I don't carry a purse, my money is safe in my underwear. Windhoek however still got the better of us!

We had been driving around looking for an unsecured wireless connection as internet was so expensive. On returning to our hostel, I was still playing on my laptop, so Andrew got out of the car and walked around the corner to alert the security guard to let us in, as the vehicle entrance is around the back from the main entrance. On his way he walked past two dodgy looking guys going through a wallet. He considered waiting until they had walked past me but decided I could handle them if they tried anything.

Which they did. I saw them walking up from behind so I watched them. One guy disappeared from view while the other stood behind the panel between my door and the rear passenger seat, so he was out of my view. I closed my computer and put it at my feet. The guy on my side then put his hands and his phone in my half open window quite aggressively. I was concerned for my laptop so i pushed his hands out of the window and wound up my window. I then glanced nervously at Andrew's open window expecting them to walk around and bother me from there, but that seemed to be the end of it.

When Andrew got back in the car, I told him what happened and that I felt I had handled it well. I was very assertive I remember saying. It wasn't until an hour later we realised that my ipod was gone. It had been siting on the stereo located in a security box between our seats. We realise now that the guy at my window was just the distraction and the other guy who disappeared from my view must have reached in through Andrew's window and snatched the ipod.

Sandboarding on the Skeleton Coast

The Skeleton Coast is an interesting place. 100km off the coast the weather is scorching hot. Campsites were judged entirely on whether or not there was a pool. Then driving towards the coast, in a space of about 30km the weather suddenly got quite cool. The reason for this chill is the cold air currents from the Atlantic Ocean. There are no mountains for shelter just desert and sand dunes all the way to the coast!

Climbing to the top of one of these dunes awards you spectacular views and burning legs! The best way to go down is on a piece of masonite that has had the under side just rubbed with polish. The dunes are steep and the boards slide too easily and I rarely made it to the bottom without wiping out, but isn't that half the fun???

Crazy Ablutions

Rarely are the toilets and showers the highlight of a camping ground. One place on the Caprivi Strip in Namibia has changed all that! Ngepi camp in itself has beautifully located campsites along a river. As nice as these are, this is not what it is known for. Activities while staying include fishing, swimming, paddling a mokoro (traditional canoe) and going on an ablution tour!

Each toilet or shower block is different and has it's own unique name. The "royal flush" is a properly tiled toilet area, in a reed hut overlooking the river. The "throne" is a carved royal throne that also looks on to the river. With both of these if anyone paddles down the river while you are sitting on them you will literally be caught with your pants down! I also endulged in a bath as the sun set overlooking the river. Just as I was getting in I had to grab my towel and wrap it around me as a boat motored past. After the sun sets however there is luckily no more traffic!

It is not just about ablutions with river views. One toilet block was called "bush toilet". I had drunk too much wine and was busting! I entered the very large reed hut and in the dark, with very minimal lighting do you think I could find the toilet for all the trees?

Another one quite confused Andrew. There were two entrances to one toilet block, "boys" and "girls". Apon following the boys sign he came to a sign that said "women". He walked around the side and found a "men" sign but it was where the "girls" sign had pointed. Confused he walked in to find one room with two toilets. One had white tiled floor and the seet was up. The other a fluffy pink carpet and toilet cover with the seat down! hahaha!

 
Andrew modelling the "throne" and me in a bush shower!

Stuck in the Salt

We have driven more than 35 000km and never been seriously stuck. We don't even have a winch! These distance starts to give you an air of confidence that our Priscilla is unstoppable. Enter Makgadikgadi Salt Pans!

The Salt Pans are located to the Eastern side of Central Botswana. It was a whole days drive on dirt through some of the worse dust we have seen, only stopping to collect some firewood off the side of the road. There is a camp site on "Kubu Island" a land mass we assumed was in the middle of the pan, which disappointingly was just a penninsular or extension of sort of the dirt and dust we had spent all day in.

So we decided to camp on the salt pan. We followed tracks onto the salt and drove along them for a couple of kms until all the tracks turned around. We were still riding pretty high and just assumed it was a bit drier since other cars had been out this way and carried on. When we reached a distance out on to the flat we were happy with Andrew turned the car around and as he slowed to a halt our whole car seemed to just sink. Oh oh!

We soon discovered that underneath the dry salt exterior was the horrible sticky mud that sticks to your tyres and then lubricates them like oil. We got out the shovel and dug and tried again. We just sunk in further still. We got down our firewood and put it under the tyres. Priscilla moved a little bit but alot of our firewood ended up being buried in the mud. So we decided that perhaps it was a good place to camp for the night!

After unloading some stuff from the car and letting the mud dry, we were faced with spagetti on toast for dinner (we can't burn our firewood!) or trying one more time, because if we got out we could have our BBQ! So we tried and lady luck (and less air in our tyres) was on our side and out came Priscilla! Yey! After turning the car very carefully, we set up camp, burnt our mud coated firewood and pumped up our tyres.

However, sometimes you just don't learn the lesson the first time. The wind came up and Andrew decided to turn the car so our roof tent would not flap. He turned a little too sharply and guess what? Into the mud we sunk!

With no firewood to help us out this time, we dug ourselves out as best we could and decided to let the mud dry. In the morning we let our tyres down (again!) and drove out easily much to my relief!

Stuck in the salt!

Charged by an Elephant

We have been mock charged (in our car!) several times. Elephants trumpet and flap their ears and then make a decent show of running for you. Usually your on a road with a quick escape route and there is nothing to worry about.

While driving between Chobe National Park and Savuti National Park in Botswana we came apon several large herds of elephant. The road when very close to where they were, so as a precaution we drove off the road further away. Even this was too close for one elephant who we named "grumpy", made evident by his large trumpet.

We decided this was a great place to stop for lunch so we cautiously reversed behind a tree. As we were reversing "Grumpy" was watching and soundlessly started running in our direction! Andrew quickly turned the car and headed off forwards, but to where??? We were headed not only into trees but into another herd of elephants coming down to drink!

Luckily for us, "Grumpy" gave up once we were nearly in the trees and left us in piece. I prefer the ones that trumpet! It is always the quiet ones you have to watch!

The elephants that were coming down to drink when we were being chased!

The lion is NOT the king of the animals

As a kid, I have always beleived that the lion is the king of all the animals. However, I now know that this is not true. The lion may have a fearsome growl and large teeth, but there is one animal that even the lion cowers too.

The elephant! This herbivore may not eat you like the lion but here is the true king. During our visit to Savuti National Park we saw many animals including the lion all very thirsty, waiting at a waterhole. The lion, having not drunk in days as the pump was not working, was obviously very thirsty but bided their time because the "true boss", the elephant was drinking first!

The lions waiting while the elephant drinks, while warthog watch knowing they are even further down the pecking order!

Oh Mickey!

Believe it or not, we have had a little hitchhiker in our car. We named him Mickey and he was a very naughty little mouse from Chobe National Park! The problem with having a mouse live in your car is you cannot leave any food out. Usually we have a basket for bread and vegetables, but all of it had to be squeezed into our tiny fridge!

The first thing we noticed was little nibbles out of our bread and vegetables. We started setting home made traps for him but the little critter was smarter than we thought. Three nights in a row, with three different traps the score was Mickey 3 - Us 0. We took everything out of the car to try and find him, all to no avail!

The next day when we were taking crates out to get something out, Andrew spotted him. He had got himself in a corner and there was only one way out. Andrew chased him while I stood by, not sure I was going to be able to catch him. As Mickey made a dash for it, I captured him beneath a brush and tray brush and his victorious reign was held no more!

We released him in a park nearby. I hope he is doing OK, a Botswana mouse in Zambia. Although I am pretty sure he will be wooing all the female mice with his foreign accent, the cheeky mouse that he is!

Mickey, in a tupperware container before his release

Swimming ABOVE Victoria Falls!

Victoria Falls is an awesome sight. This waterfall measures 1.7km in length and 108 metres high. It sits on the border between Zimbabwe and Zambia and both benefit from it's tourist appeal. I first visited it from the Zimbabwe side where you can walk along two thirds of the opposite bank of the falls. Today I walked along the the remaining one third on the Zambian side.

I actually think the sight is more spectacular from the Zimbabwe side. Unfortunately due to current troubles in Zim, most tourist only see it from the Zambian side. That said, Zambia has an extra lure that the Zim side doesn't have. Swimming!!!

After viewing the falls, Andrew and I walked up along side the river. There is a small dam wall which although the water flows ankle deep, you can walk across and end up on a small island in the river. From here you hop skip and jump to rock pools just metres from the 108m falls! The water here is not deep and the current is not even noticable in most of the pools. Still and average of one million litres of water flows over every second, and with that in mind you are very careful where you step!

 
The falls, and us swimming! See the spray at the edge where the falls begin!

Flight over the Zambezi

What do you get for your birthday when your postal address is:
Jaye Phillips
CO/ Priscilla
Somewhere in Africa???
Easy! A microflight over Victoria Falls!

Admittedly I didn't know what I was getting myself in for before I signed up, and Mum and Dad did not really understand what they were paying for, but a microlight is literally two seats suspended from a hang glider with a propeller! And it was awesome! I thought it would be scarier but it was just amazing!

On the way out to Vic Falls, I asked my pilot if we would see any game. His reply was that I would need to book the longer flight. We flew up the Zambezi to where it spreads out before falling over Victoria Falls. The falls are incredibly wide and from the ground you can never see from one end to the other so it was great to get a look at them from above putting their size into perspective. You could also see the zigzag of the old falls as the falls continually cut into the mountain and change their path.

On the way back my pilot pointed out some buffalo, crocs and hippo pods form the air. Then he asked me if I wanted to see some elephant that were a little out of the way. Of course I did! They still looked large from the air! My little side excursion was definately a benefit of being the last flight of the morning. :)

Diesel on the "parallel" market

Diesel is no longer sold through legal channels in Zimbabwe and despite smuggling an extra 80 litres (200 litres in total) across the border we found ourselves short. Dealers on the street who in another coutry would whisper "pst.. man... you want some hash?" are now greeting you with "want some diesel man?" in a hushed voice.

So after securing a seller and driving to the arranged spot a 20 litre jerry can is produced. Andrew negotiates the price and checks the diesel has not been watered down. They pour it in to the car and distract him as the jerry can is hurriedly put away. After much discussion he demands to see the jerry can which is slowly produced from a locked boot still containing several litres in the bottom. "It's dirty man, you don't want it in you tank." On ANdrew's insistence it is poured to another smaller container, and suprisingly there is nothing dirty about it.

So we get nearly all of our 20 litres and I pay the man 5.6 million zim dollars in Z$100 000 notes. He insists it is Z$200 000 short. I take it back and count it again. I find it correct. He then counts it slowly in front of me and he also finds it correct. His mates laugh at him and I feel that this time it is not a scam but a genuine error. The whole experience is as thrilling as it is dodgy and it is only as we drive away I realise the transaction has taken place in front of the Ministry of Transport!

A visit to Zimbabwe

Zimbabwe is a country in economic crisis. Inflation is spiralling out of control at somewhere around 5000%. The official exchange rate the Zimbabwean government will give you is Z$250 (Z$ = Zim dollar) for US$1. The actual rate is around Z$200 000 and don't forget the last year 3 decimal places were also removed. Don't use your ATM card in Zimbabwe as the US$500 you withdraw is actually worth about US$0.75.

Mugabe's attempt to correct this has been by implementing "price fixing". This forces shops to sell produce at a loss and when warehouses fail to restock the shelves? The managers were arrested. The police also benefited from this ruling as they would buy all the bread at the eqivalent of a few sense pre loaf and then sell it ouside for a couple of dollars. If the store owners attempted to sell bread at this price, they would have been arrested.

The effect this had on day to day life was very evident during our trip. Supemarket produce was spread out over all the shelves to make it look like they were stocked. But in reality there were no basic goods like flour, sugar, pasta or rice for sale. Only luxary goods like pet food, shampoo, salt, canned fruit and wine. For us it was great as we stocked up on wine for the equivalent of US$1 per bottle.

Diesel is also in short supply and the service station pumps run dry. This means there are no buses or taxis and in every town we drove through there were simply hundreds (literally!) of people waiting on the side of the road waiting for a lift. We heard it was not uncommon to wait for a week to get a lift.

This all said Zimbabwe is a beautiful and friendly country to visit and I never felt our safety to be threatened. During our stay in Mana pools we met a local Zim family who were driving to Zambia to do grocery shopping and still they invited us to share dinner with them. And it is precisely that genourous nature of the Zim people that makes it a great place to visit.

Millionaires!

While we were in Harare, a group of us decided to go out for dinner and see Harare. Andrew and I had just changed some money with a friend and as we were driving into the city I was distributing it to the four of us in our car so that we would all have enough for dinner. The notes were Z$100 000 each and I was playing banker so I doled out 1 million dollars to each of us! Millionares at last! Yey! So with our million dollars each we went out on the town. We didn't quite spend it all, and I hear you thinking what a waste of money! Keep in mind that one million Zim dollars is the equivalent of US$5.00!

I am an Auntie!!!

At 4am on Saturday the 11th of August Nate Richard Phillips was born to my brother Rick and his wife Ang. He weighed 2895g and was 49cm in length. Unfortunately I won't get to meet him until early next year but I am still a very proud auntie!!! And who wouldn't be??? Just look at this face below! :)

Face to face with a hippo

South Luangwa National Park in Zambia is home to literally thousands of hippos. They sit in the waters of the Luangwa River and deep melodical calls can be heard all day. The campsites are all along the river so you can sit and watch them all day long. During the night they come out of the water to graise on the banks and even in the campsite. There is something very cool about sitting in you roof tent and watching the hippos graising metres from you below. Although they don't appear to be dangerous, they are responsible for more deaths every year than any other African animal, which is hard to imagine as they appear to be so fat and lazy!

Today we did something different. Instead of driving though the park, we decided to go on a walking safari. With us was a guide from the tour company and a scout from the National Park. We had to walk in single file behind the guides, thinking the whole time that we may come around the next corner and disturb a lion!

We didn't run into any lions, but we saw a great group of warthogs which are much larger than I had thought, having only seen them previously from afar. We saw a grumpy elephant and had to move quickly as he followed us. And then... we came around a corner to find a hippo on the shore. You know things are getting serious when the scout removes his gun from his shoulder and cocks it ready to fire. The hippo gets up, agitated by our presence and I was amazed at the agility of such a big, round animal despite it's short stumpy legs.

As you can imagine we didn't hang around long and had to walk past not one but two hippos. It really got the heart pumping and when I looked at the hippos lazing on the banks from camp when we got back, I sudenly found myself giving them a whole new level of respect!

Crazy Albert

Malawi, despite being one of the poorest countries in Africa, is one of the friendliest and most beautiful. It is also one of the most creative. Roadside after roadside shack is full of funky Malawian paintings, each painter with his/her own style.

Outside the gates of one of our favourite places on Lake Malawi, Chintethe Inn was a handfull of these shacks. And one of these shacks was run by Albert. Now the usual procedure with these places is walk in, have a look, ask what the "starting price" is on a piece you like and then look next door. Of these shacks, by far my favourite pieces were by Albert, he was also the craziest of the shack owners.

We go into his shack and he lays out all his paintings for us. We have a chat to him and on and on he rambles. I ask him the starting price for one piece. On he rambles. Five minutes later I ask again. Still more rambling, on and on. Finally, I begin to get annoyed and ask a third time, to no avail.

Doesn't he want to sell anything and make any money? His method of selling got under my skin and dealing with him was like running your finger nails down a blackboard. I got so annoyed I walked out of the shop. How does this guy make any money???Andrew, as always, as cool as a cucumber remained and did eventually get a starting price. 3000 Kwacha (US$20) which wasn't so bad as it was a big piece and all prices are negotiable.

Andrew explained to me later that this is the African way. The time you give someone, the more respect you are giving. It is something I still have to learn. After three days of visits, we bought the painting for 1800 Kwacha ($US12) and also learnt that Albert is quite hard of hearing. So perhaps this is why I was blatantly ignored on the first day! When I eventually hang this picture in my home, I think it will always remind me of patience.

Tanzania: The prices of game parks

Tanzania is undoubtedly home to the two most famous game parks on this earth; Serengeti and the Ngorogoro Crater. Unfortunatly it has gone to their heads. Prices were always high but as of the 1st of July some have doubled. For the two of us to visit the Ngorogoro Crater first we have to pay to get into Serengeti, US$50 each plus US$60 for Priscilla. Then for a ticket into the crater it is US$200 per car for a 6 hour window, and if you are even a little bit over this time they will charge you again when you leave. And don't think this won't happen. The roads are notoriously bad and we have heard of people having to pay crazy amounts because they broke down and got stuck.

If you wish to take advantage of your 24hour ticket into the Serengeti, it will you a further US$30 to camp with no facilities. Just entering the Serengeti and not driving through the Ngorogoro is also not really an option as this is the only way through the park to the rest of Tanzania and it is a long way around.

Consequently, we have decided to skip the parks in Tanzania and spend our money in game parks in Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana and Namibia. As for Tanzania, we are headed to the beach to eat cheap prawns off the beach and relax!

The Difference in Zebras

How many different types of zebras do you think there are? Or like me have you never really thought about it? Well so far on this trip I have been lucky enough to have seen two completely different types so I thought it would share it with you all.

The most common zebra is Burchalls zebra with wide stripes. I have seen this zebra many times in Ethiopia and Kenya. The second kind of zebra is quite rare with the largest population found in Samburu National Park. This zebra, known as Graveys zebra has finer stripes and round ears not unlike Mickey Mouse. Check out the pics below, can you tell the difference?

 
Burchalls zebra with its thick stripes & Graveys zebra with its finer stripes and Mickey Mouse ears

The Lioness of Samburu

Samburu National Park was my first "real" Game Park. Andrew chose not a big name park as although you may see animals, surrounded by other safari vehicles, it can hardly be considered their natural habitat. So we chose Samburu, containing four out of the "big five" but less famous than Masai Mara so less tourists.

On the first day I saw giraffes for the first time, but still too far away to consider having really seen them. We saw lots of elephants (number one of the big five) as well as two very small babies that we named "Mini" (small) and "Micro (smallest). We also saw lots of Impala Gazelle and Dikdik but even I was becoming used to them by now.

After a fabulous campsite we set off at 6am the next morning to find some animals. Breakfast was eaten surrounded by Giraffes only metres away! We also got close to a few buffalo (number two) and it is hard to believe that they are the most dangerous of the "big five". From the safety of our car, they simply looked like big cows having bad hair days.

Just before lunch when I was just starting to get bored of calling "dikdik, impala or gazelle" when I saw them, I got to cal "LION!!!" (number three!). Just metres away a lioness strutted her stuff past us. We looked for the rest of her pride but it seemed she was on her own. We turned around and followed her, the numerous sandy tracks being perfect to get close. It is hard to feel scared when you are in the safety of your car and she is hardly giving you a second glance. We followed her as she traipsed along the paths, trying to drive ahead and be facing her as she walked past. On one of these occasions she caught sight of an impala coming her way in the distanc and shrunk into the surrounding brush, making it impossible to see her.

We waited with her, craning our necks to see out of the back of the car, not daring to turn the car around in case we disturbed the hunt. The lioness was very patient unlike the three of us in the car trying to watch the lioness out one side of the car and the impala through the back window. But the wind was not in the lioness' favour and the impala caught a wiff of her and changed course.

Not to be deterred we continued following her. When she sat down and took rest in the shade of a bush, we parked up and had lunch which got cut short becasue as soon as she was on the move again, so were we. We saw her watch two more impala coming her way with interest and when she hid this time, the first thing we did was turn the car around so we were in premium viewing position. The first Impala got concerned and stopped, but the second one kept coming. We saw her creep forward, all of us sitting on the edge of our seats. The second impala then stopped, the wind giving the lioness away yet again.

We thought she had got close enough to go in for the kill but apparently not. The lioness stood up, obviously aborting the hunt while the impala just froze and watched her walk past. At this point another safari vehicle turned up to look then spead away but they had missed the hunt and I was glad we hadn't had to share her with anyone up until now.

It was strange seeing a lioness hunt by herself as I have always been told they hunt in a pride. We could only assume that she had cubs hidden away somewhere so after we lost her, we headed off in the direction she came from to no avail. Thanks to Samburu I now have seen three of the big five and the hunt for the remaining leopard and rhino will continue as we head south.

The lioness aborting her hunt in front of the terrified impala

Lava in Northern Kenya

When you think of Kenya, what flies into your mind first? Game parks and African animals? Well I thought so too, but the first three days I was in Kenya I saw nothing but Lava rocks and more lava rocks. Not only did I not see animals, but I didn't see any people either.

After crossing into Kenya on an unofficial border there are two roads. One into Sibiloi National Park (US$40 each plus about the same for the car!) and another one around the National park. Everyone tells you the road around doesn'r exist, but we met some people coming the other way somewhere between Kenya and Ethiopia who had just done it, so we thought if it saves us more than $100, why not?

We thought it would take us half a days driving to cross the 350km to Marsabit. Ha! Three days later we were still driving at 10km an hour over lava rocks. Fingers of lava extended across salt flats and although towards the end we were able to drive around, most of the time it was slow going. Our tyres took a beating and to camp we didn't (we couldn't) drive off the road as we usually would, but camped simply metres of the road but it didn't matter, no one drove past.

The first town (if you can call it that) was known as North Horr, a sandy desert town literally in the midle of nowhere. The same overlanders who had told us to go around Sibiloi National Park, told us of two French guys who were working on a water project there and seemed very bored. "We stayed two days!" they said. "They love company so you should go and stay with them". So with a bowl to return from the overlanders, after two days of driving we dropped in.

People have different experiences, and just because one person says it's great, doesn't mean you will agree. This was certainly the case with our visit. Only one of the guys was there and he had been asleep. After stating our reason for dropping in (the bowl to return) we felt a bit awkward. He invited us for a cup of tea but it still wasn't the hospitable reception we had expected. How had these people stayed here for two days??? Kirsten tried to break the ice by jokingly saying "Sorry we have nothing to bribe you with. We have come from Ethiopia so have no goodies aboard" referring to the yummy goods the others had passed along (like camembert cheese!!) having ome from Nairobi. "I can't be bribed" he said. "Everything is about being bribed in Kenya". Oops! We promptly left deciding we were not going to be offered a hot shower there. Perhaps it was the other French guy who was the sociable one???

The next day, day three, we finally pulled in to Marsabit at a place our GPS lead us to as there was no signs and our notes from others simply said "Henry the Swiss". It was just his farm with shower and toilet facilities. He was in the construction business so everything was really nicely done. His wife had a bakery on the property and the smell was delicious. This place was simply heaven and the shower I had been waiting for?... It was the best shower I had had since Europe!

 
Camping in the lava field with the salt flat in the distance, and rocks, rocks and more rocks!

The people of the Omo Valley

The Omo Valley is home to perhaps the last true tribes of Africa. They dress in animal skins and live in bark huts. They put mud in their hair and use dried gourd vessels to drink out of. This is not put on for tourists like other parts of the world. They do not own/use anything modern like plastic vessels or metal tools. Visiting this region of Ethiopia has been likened to visiting a human zoo, and in many ways this is correct.

Our first visit was to Jinka, home many tribes but notably the Mursi people. The women of this tribe make an incision below their bottom lip which seperates it from the face. Then a pottery plate is inserted between the lip and the bottom teet (which are knocked out) stretching it over time. The bigger the plate, the higher the status symbol in the community and the more a girl is worth for mairrage. I had seen pictures before, but it is something else to see it in real life. Wearing the plate is very painful, so you see the women walking around with their lip just hanging from their face. With the plate inserted they cannot talk, only grunt and I wonder how well they are able to talk when it is removed.

The story behind this tradition of lip mutilation was to make the women unattractive to other tribes. This is because stealing a bride from a different tribe was common practice in this region. Perhaps it was successful, as the women look anything but attractice with their plates inserted, and in fact are quite scary. But it made me sad to think that in order to protect their women, the Mursi have taken away simple priveledges like being able to smile, talk easily and kiss.

Between towns there is no public transport and on several occasions we had villagers (and even a calf) on our roof hitching a lift to the next town. The second place we visited was Turmi, where apon going for a walk along an empty riverbed, Andrew and I were invited to a village for tea by some kids from the Hamer tribe. We sat on an animal skin and chewed sugar cane, until we were served "tea" in a gourd. I expected it to taste terrible ut it was suprisingly good!

The next day we went to the market and this was where I realised that this was the real deal. 95% of the people in attendance were from the Hamer tribe and all were in traditional dress. I say traditional, but this was not something they dressed up for. The women were bare breasted, some gorgeous, some as flat as pancakes, wearing animal skins and lots of beads. In their hair and on their faces an ochre coloured mud was rubbed giving them a pink glow. The women had raised scars over their bodies, caused by cuts rubbed with ash, considered a beautification process.

The people of the Omo Valley have maintained their traditional way of living like no other place on earth. Unlike the begging phenomenon of the rest of Ethiopia, these people are proud. To take photos you must pay a small sum, but this seems more like a business agreement than anything else. At the moment the only way to reach this region is by your own 4x4, but they are currently building a big new road into the region, and if this happens, I think even these tribes may find it difficult to remain untouched.

   
The Mursi tribe, The Hamer tribe and the Turmi market

The end of the rainy season

The rainy season for south-western Ethiopia supposedly ends in June. This piece of information is very important when crossing through the Omo Valley, an "unofficial" alternative to the Marsabit - Moyale road in Northern Kenya, aka "the bandit road", ie the worst road in Africa. People who had driven this way just weeks before had gotten stuck and emails had included the words "don't do it alone, you may ned someone to pull you out". But the was a few weeks ago, and surely it is fine now???

We got as far as Keyafar when we ran into two Dutch overlanders who had turned back from the last stretch to Jinka, saying it ws too wet and slippery and as the clouds were beginning to open up, were concerned of being stuck there for several days. The local teenagers also warned us about continuing "there are rivers" they said, but you always have to take their advice with a grain of salt as they want to lead you to the campsite so they get a juicy commission.

We decided to check out this road for ourselves, and despite the ruts running with water, it was nothing we hadn't seen before. But after half an hour of driving, and no other car sightings, Andrew began to get cold feet. Afterall, if the locals aren't driving it, then it can't be driven. Just as we turned around, however, a car came past. "You think the road's alright???" we asked. "No problem", came the reply.

So we turned back around and continued on as the rain started to get heavier. We tried to keep up with the local we had just talked to, but locals know the roads and consequently drive much faster. He must have been about 500m in front of us, and we could see in the distance the car disappear down a slope, but never come up the otherside. "Oh oh", we thought. True to our suspicions, there was a river with a truck stuck on one side and a few 4x4s on our side. Through the pouring rain, the same local from before came to our window and told us that the river was high coz of the rain, but it should go down in half an hour or and hour or so, but there was still another river, not as deep but more silted making it more likely that you could get stuck.

We sat and debated what to do. I wanted to wait and see, the adventurous side of me dying to drive through the river. But it was getting late, and as Andrew pointed out we could be there for hours. There was also the looming unknown of the "other river" so we turned around. 10 minutes into the drive back the rain eased and rivulets that were running when we drove through the first time were already significantly less. So again we stopped and debated. Then from behind us the truck from the other side drove up and we immediately thought, "people are crossing!". Suddenly we were in the middle of a traffic jam with people coming from both directions and so we turned around again for the fourth time and headed back to the river.

It is amazing how quickly the water goes down once it stops raining. There was one car in front when we got there and one of it's passengers carefully waded aross to check it was safe to cross. With his throttle full pelt he drove across and made it. He then stopped to wait for us and make sure we didn't get into any trouble. I found most wealthy Ethiopians all spoke English very well, and always stopped and helped you out if necessary a far cry from the rest of the population that saw us only as an ATM. So now that it was our turn, Andrew drove the car in, following the same route as the guy before a little gentler but we passed it no problem with the water not quite reaching our door trim.

One down, one to go. We drove and drove and it got darker and darker. I imagined the next river to be really wide but shallow, with quicksand hiding in certain spots that only locals knew about. I felt for sure we were going to get eaten alive and was excited by the crossing. There was another truck on the road and we pushed on to keep up, so that we could see him cross it first. I was starting to get a little concerned about doing this crossing in the dark. And then finally we saw the river. It was quite disappointing after all the build up! Not nearly as tough as the previous one! We watched the truck go through and followed his lead with no problems. We then continued on to Jinka and found the campsite from heaven and spent the rest of the night relaxing!

 
The first river, and the not so scary second one!

A Generation of Beggars

My visit to Ethiopia thus far has been an eye opening experience. I have been to many countries where begging is very prevalent, but this is quite different. The younger generation here see a "faranji" (white person) and seem to think that we owe them something. In their eyes, white people hand out free stuff, like a promotions girl. All they have to do is get you to stop! We drove along a road and the request changed from "you gimme pen" to "gimme t-shirt" to "gimme 1 birr" (local currency), as if some tourist had driven through the villages and handed out pens until they have run out, then t-shirts and finally local currency when there was nothing else. I now realise that the "yuu-yuu-yuu" that I first heard, really was "you-you-you", meaning "gimme-gimme-gimme".

An Ethiopian guide said that this probelm embarrasses him. The younger generation have no concept that begging is shameful. Young teenagers will be passing their day as normal, until they suudenly see a "faranji" and become an opportunistic beggar. This problem stems from the two great famines (first in the 70s and the second in the 80s) where western aid agencies came and indiscriminately handed out aid. Then when the famine was over, these agencies never left and Ethiopia became a western charity case. More agencies established themselves in other regions that never needed aid, and slowly Ethiopia became dependant on foreign aid.

"But these people are poor", I hear you cry. "They live in substandard living condition, we must help them." These people never knew they were poor until the West showed them what they were missing. Most of Ethiopia is one of the greenest, and most fertile countries I have ever seen, and if they want a better standard of living, they have the resources to utilise to improve it. But instead it is given to them and thus the younger generation does not know how to work for it.

The other big problem in Ethiopia are the tourists who just hand stuff out. More than once I have read "you should take pens for the kids in Africa" and this just reinforces that white people just give you stuff for free. We have had kids run after us for a couple of kms thinking that if they can get us to stop we will give them stuff. Some become aggressive and throw stones at the car when they do not get what they want. Giving out pens or money randomly does not help the kids of Africa. It is different if someone goes out of their way to help you, but indiscriminately handing stuff out does more harm than good. If you do anything to help the kids of Ethiopia, "DO NOT HAND OUT PENS!!!"

Throwing Stones

We had heard that kids may throw stones at your car if you don't give in to their begging. And I am sorry to say it is very true. More than once it has happened to us. We slam on the breaks and get out of the car and the kid (or adult for that matter) runs like the wind.

A very little kid (maybe 2 or 3) threw a stone at the car the other day, obviously having learnt it from his older siblings (we thought) and when we stopped just stood there. A parent came over then and through gestures we explained to the father what had happened. When he finally understood, his response? ...to pick up a stone and throw it at the child. Aaaaaah!

The road to Gondar

Crossing the border from Sudan to Ethiopia you felt the difference in the countries. The temperature was easily 20 degrees cooler. Ethiopian immigration was a tin shack behind an animal pen painted bright purple and torquoise inside. We had to step over chickens to get inside. Apon presentation of our passports two hefty books were retrieved and our names were checked. What for we do not know but we assume it was some kind of blacklist! With our passports stamped we were on the road again. ...And then in rained! We stopped the car and got out in the glorious rain.

The next day we drove through the highlands to Gondar through villages and over hills. The scenery is lush and green, a world apart from the starving desert images you see on TV. The kids run and and shout "yuu-yuu-yuu", a kind o Ethiopian greeting I think. Their faces light up when you return their wave, so it is imperative you don't miss any little waving hand. It starts to become like a space invader game, you hear a little voice and you try and find the little face that matches it and wave. But they are coming at you from all sides and you twist and turn trying to get them all!

Booze in Sudan

You may or may not know that alcohol is strictly forbidden in Sudan. An icy cold beer after a long hot desert rive is one pleasure that you do not get to indulge in. Water and juice just has to cut it. On the day we left Khatoum, we were driving through some smaller streets and a guy shouts and runs after us. Andrew slows out of curiosity and the guy runs up beside the car quite out of breath. "I see the flag" he says. "You are from South Africa". "Welcome to Sudan. Can I help you with anything, like changing money??" Aaah so we are being touted. One of the rare times. Andrew explains that we are leaving, when he pipes up with "I can get you booze!". Ahha! sSo there is a black market. But frankly I don't need a cold beer enough to break the law. After all I don't even want to sleep in their hotels, let alone in a Sudanese prison!

Sudan - First Impressions

The atmosphere of Sudan is quite different to Egypt. Apon arrival in Wadi Halfa people would greet you in the street to welcome you to their country, and I was forever waiting for the sales pitch or the invite to their shop, but it never came. The Sudanese people were genuinely happy to have you visit an find out what you thought of their country. One day while waiting for Priscilla to arrive Andrew and I climbed a small mountain above the town. A boy of 11 found us at the top and we had a chat. We asked him about school and his family and I was impressed by his English. When we ran out of conversation topics he just sat down with us and enjoyed the view. We climbed down together and at the bottom he waved goodbye and ran off in the direction of his house. I haven't been in a country in a long time where kids just talk to you and not try and sell you something or ask for money, and it was so refreshing.

Aswan - Wadi Halfa Ferry

Despite sharing more that 1000kms of land border, there is no way to drive from Egypt to Sudan. There is only one way to cross this border and that is by a once a week ferry on the Nassa dam. The ferry is only a small ferry, with vehicles having to travel on a seperate barge. The ferry takes 17 hours, while the barge can take up to 3 days.

Andrew and I, and three other overland vehicle arrive at the port at Aswan around 9am. After getting ourselves stamped out we then waited around to sort out our cars while watching all the people and cargo get aboard the ferry. At 11am we were taken into an office where we had to pay an enormous sum of money for our car, then Laura (a dutch overlander) and I got on the ferry to try and save a space for the seven of us.

We had heard rumours that 2nd class (the tickets we held) were like reclining airline seats. "Second class" turned out to be hard upright bench seats, already very crowded, and no possibility of sleeping there at night. We then investigated the upper deck, which seemed like the best bet, except the only bit of shade was under some life boats. Not bad we thought as we set up our blanket to mark our spot. This caught the attention of the crew who promptly said it wasn't safe to sit there (health and safety in Egypt???) and they helped us rig our blanket up at the back of the ferry so we could have some shade.

As the day progressed our cars got closer to the barge and the upper deck began to fill up with boxes and boxes of stuff. With only two of us on board hoarding an area for seven we began to feel a little uncomfortable. Around four o'clock the cars finally went on the barge and everyone came aboard.

Then the ferry started up and we realised we had sat behind the vent from the engine and the fumes were terrible! The ferry left around five o'clock and even though the sun went down a few hours later, thanks to the engine vents it never did cool down. Belinda and Laura went scouting for another spot and found a place at the front of the boat that was not open to everyone. The girls were allowed in (typical Egyptian male) but not the guys. The stayed there a while and as it got darker the guys snuck in and then a while later the remaining three of us snuck in. Finally I was out of the fumes, and lying on a metal deck between a metal box, half under a winch and at US$52 a ticket, this was as good as it gets!

At five am Laura woke us up to view Kom Ombo from the ferry. In the early morning light it was spectacular. We arrived at Wadi Halfa around 10am after following the shade around the front of the boat for a few hours. After waiting two hours to get off the ferry we had to have a personal interview before we got our entry stamp. I couldn't help wondering what on earth I had paid US$100 for when I got my visa if I had to be "checked" before I entered the country, and isn't it a little too late to send me back now???

Priscilla arrived the next day, but all the cargo had to be unloaded before she could drive off. And there are no cranes here. Everything is done by man power and the cargo is really heavy. Each huge bag of everything from blenders, to clothes and car parts had to be rolled up the ramp by about eight men and then hoisted up onto a truck that would take it to customs. Day one saw half the barge unloaded. Day two saw us waiting and watching as the barge got unloaded and then the platoon that the car was on was moved and finally unloading began.

Now I expected to get frustrated when you have to wait for two days for your car. But you should see these guys work. For a start it is 45 degrees and they are working all day in full sun. The only water consumed that I saw was by me, or by the guys when we gave them a bottle of water. To hoist heavy parcels up they sing a song to get the timing right, and I knew for sure that workers at home wouldn't sound as musical. They didn't work fast (and due to the heat could you blame them?) and when a package was dropped a good 10 minutes was taken to heatedly discuss whose fault it was! But they all worked with a smile on their face. I did start to understand why people brought so much stuff on the passenger ferry though, as boxes coming as cargo were not treated with care.

Finally at about 6:30pm our cars came off the platoon. Of course the customs guy had gone home by this time, but was promptly fetched and brought back to inspect our cars. Then we were on our way! No more staying in dodgy hotels, we were off to camp in the desert!

Egyptian Museum

After a very good morning in Cairo of picking up my new pasport (the one one was full), getting my visa transferred and getting our Sudanese visa in one hour (notoriously hard to get) we headed to the Egyptian Museum to check out the loot. Tutankhamun's treasures were very stunning but there was one other exhibit which attracted my attention.

"An exquisite and exciting exhibit", the information said, "on display to the public for the very first time since it was discovered in 1922. Now here is the intersting part. Why has it not been on display before?

A: because it was stolen when it was found and has only recently been re-discovered?
B: because it was in a private collection and the collector recently died and donated it to the museum?
C: because it has taken researchers more than 80 years to authenticate?
D: because it has been stored in the basement of the museum until now?

Hahaha! D is actually the correct answer! At least they're honest!

The Infamous Egyptian Border

Land borders into Egypt are infamous for their difficulty. Everything gets searched, engine and chassis numbers are checked and reems and reems of forms in Arabic. Oh and a whole lot of money!

We landed in Nuweiba from Aquaba at 11am, off a ferry that was supposed to take 3 hours but actually took 11! After no sleep we both dreaded this border and after leaving the ferry our carnet was promptly taken from us and we drove 50m where someone else asked for our carnet! A great start!

While Andrew went to "find" our carnet, I waited in the car. When he came back I had conveniently completed our chassis number check, simply by pointing to the front of the car when someone asked where our chassis number was! We then waited for the guy who wanted our carnet to come back, and when he didn't Andrew went to buy drinks. During his absence the carnet guy came back (of course) and I got the next stage filled out! I was on a roll!

The whole process did take a couple of hours and cost some money but it was nothing at all like we expected. We were lucky and had the assistance of a tourist police officer who took Andrew step by step through the rest of the process. And me? well I just sit in the car and wait like any proper Muslim lady would!

The Dead Sea

The dead sea is most famously visited form the Palestinian side but we couldn't resist the temptation of bobbing like a cork 400m below sea level so we went to check it out. Before we arrived we found it strange that the only acomodation was expensive hotel/resort type accomodation but we headed down anyway thinking it would be a nice place to chill for a couple of days.

Apon arrival we noticed there truly is nothing but big hotels, not even trees! We paid our JD5 ($US7) to get in to a beach and jumped in the water. You truly do bob like a cork due to the extremely high salt content. Also due to this same salt after 5 minutes in the water all your bodily crevises begin to sting! and I didn't even pu my head under water!

As close as it gets!

Syrian road maps from the tourist authority are not the most acurate I have ever come across. Maps put out by the same authority of different regions have great differences in their overlapping parts. But hey as long as you have a compass and head in the general direction it's not like you will end up in Iraq or something! hahaha!

We were headed for Palmyra, some ancient ruins in eastern Syria. Havina a 4wd and all our camping stuff we thought it would be cool to drive on all the little roads across from Homs and free camp a night on the way (see below!). The next day we continued on our way, never intersecting with the main road we thought we would and overshooting Palmyra. Eventually we stopped and got out the GPS and found out on our big Middle Eastern Map where we were. We had in fact overshot the road and our destination and were headed for Iraq! hahaha! With still about 70kms to go we were fine and soon up ahead found a main road, and all roads leading to Iraq had heaps of security so you can't accidentally wander across. Still there is something cool about seeing roadsides to this infamously dangerous country and the pic below was taken when we were back on the main road!

You're the man!!!

Whenever we freecamp (ie just pull up and camp in the middle of nowhere) we always try and find a place we very remote where we won't be seen or heard. Sometimes this is easier said than done, and we have previously been woken up by farmers (Turkey) who are just curious to say hello and don't mind at all that you are sleeping there.

My image of Syria was empty deserts, but when trying to find a freecamp location somewhere between Aleppo and Palmyra it was just little village after little village and with no trees or mountains to hide behind, the 60 million people of Syriat certainly seemed to make their presence felt.

So a farmers field it was. Strategically placed in the middle of several settlements and beside a slight increase in altitude we set up camp. All was peaceful until we had just finished our dinner and a 4x4 with 4 spolights drove towards us and stop, lights blaring only metres from our camp. Two Syrian guys get out and Andrew goes over and says hello. We offer them a drink (non-alcoholic of course!). We wait to see what will happen and if we are welcome to camp here and get a very hospitable invite to their house instead. They speak no English and us even less Arabic so they quickly depart after they realise we are just travellers and not up to no good.

We think all the visitors are over but when we are just settling in to our hot chocolate before we go to bed, another two Syrian guys arrive. This time one speaks pretty good English and has been sent to again invite us to their home to sleep as it is a cold night. We make them Chai and have a laugh as we all try and communicate. After a guided tour of our hroof tent, the conversation turns to who sleeps where. Not wanting to state that Susi is in the ground tent by herself, Andrew explains we all sleep in the rooftent.

To this comment the Syrian guys smiles broadened and broadened. "Your the Man!!!" they came out with in English, and no ammount of explaining could convince them that we were not Andrew's two wives!

Potato Chip Inspectors for a day

While I was travelling through Asia last year, Andrew was working for a company that was designing parts of the production line for Walkers/Lays potato chips (crisps). His last job was to install a new line in Tarsus near Mersin, Turkey during January/February while I waited in the UK. Needless to say, over the last nine months I have learnt a great deal via Andrew about the making of the potato chip and the intricasies of the machines that make them.

Although installation was mostly completed when Andrew left, he never saw the line running, so we made a small detour and visited the brand new factory. Strict hygiene measures were enforced, as we were taken on a personal guided tour by Geoff, an ex-colleague of Andrew's and saw the whole process from potatoes travelling along the production line being washed, peeled, sliced, fried, seasoned and finally packaged.

The whole experience was very interesting and it was great to see the machines I had heard so much about. It was funny having the local factory staff look at you and wonder who we were, for as far as they knew we could have been stringent chip inspectors.

The bare essentials now include a satellite dish

Throughout our travels through Europe and Turkey I have constantly been astounded at the number of satellite dishes everywhere, especially on campers. One night in Barcelone we came back to our camp to find a huge camper had parked next to us and had set up a satellite dish so huge (taller than me and wider than my arms spread out) we could hardly open our back door.

The funniest of all though was last night in Oludenez in Turkey. We were the only ones camping, but there were a few loclas living in little shacks, mostly workers who were renovating the facilities of the camp ground for summer. So here we are enjoying the peacefulness of an empty camp ground beside a lagoon, when a local carries a tv out of his shack. We first thought he was going to sit outside to watch TV. Then he comes back with what looks like a table but then places it upside down. Hmmmm... Finally he comes back with a satellite dish and while watching the TV for a signal, tunes in his programme. After some minor adjustments, and his TV taken back into the shack, suddenly sparks fly in the tree next to our tent and all goes quiet. He resets the fuse but it continues to blow all through his programme until he finally gives up.

The next morning I come back from the ladies to find Andrew in the tree with our soapie loving friend, fixing his makeshift electrical extension properly so that it would no longer short out. I am sure that he now watches his soaps interruption free!

Turkish Hospitality and Nescafe

I was looking forward to Istanbul as it was one of Andrew's favourite cities and I had heard nothing but good things. Unfortunately, in the 5 years since he had been, the true Turkish hospitality that it was famous for had been replaced with the same lust for tourist money as many other cities resulting in high prices and a daily feeling like you are continually being ripped off.

With our new visitor, Susi aboard, we happily left the big smoke to find a nicer side of Turkey. First stop was Michelin to get a new spare tyre for Priscilla. Andrew was whisked away to look at the tyres, and Susi and I were well looked after, given seats and tea and coffee. You can imagine the spectacle we were, two Western girls sitting on the side of a motorway drinking tea in front of a tyre shop! It's sad to think that at first all I could think was "how much is this going to cost me?"

Our second experience of Turkish hospitality came shortly after when we filled up with diesel and we got Priscilla washed. While Andrew was scrubbing away, Susi and I were watching and along came more coffee for the ladies! The guy that was helping Andrew wash the car saw me take a sneaky photo and insisted on posing! Slowly, slowly my suspicions are melting away, and the tip Andrew tried to give was promptly returned.

Gallipoli and Priscilla's first 4x4 test

Gallipoli will always hold a certian amount of sentiment to all Australians. It is a very emotional place to visit with hundreds of grave of young Australians (some as young as 16!) who died at Gallipoli in the first world war. Walking around the graves is a harrowing experience, but one that makes you grateful for the life you are lucky enough to lead today.

On our way to one of these sites, we spied a road that said "Lone Pine Cemetary 1500m Rough Track". We are in a 4x4 are we not? A rough track should be fine! Ha! Perhaps if it hadn't sent the last 24 hours raining! Up we ventured slowly but steadily, Andrew with a big smile on his face. All was well until we came to a flat bit in the road, where super sticky mud was 20cm deep and instead of propelling herself forward, Priscilla just slid sidewards, towards the edge of the road and the mountain!!! I was out of there quick smart, but someone still has to drive Priscilla. We piked a whole heap of branches under her tyres to give her traction and I got to hold the strap that ws attached to her at the back and looped around a tree to give her friction! My heart was beating fast as Andrew got back in and drove Priscilla forward sliding first even closer to the edge before she gained traction and Andrew regained control!

As always, the pics below don't really depict how close she actually got to the edge! Oh and did I also mention that Andrew was loving every second of it???

No such country as South Africa

After a month of travelling through the EU, we finally did our first "real" border crossing from Greece into Turkey. Leaving Greece? No problem. Turkish Immigration? No problem. Turkish Customs? Problem. Priscilla is registered in Andrew's name and for us to take her into Turkey, she has to go through customs. This should be a pretty straight forward process except for the fact that according to Turkish customs there is no such country as South Africa! The computer system had a drop down menu list and despite Andrew's best efforts to tell him every possible South African country code, it was not to be found. We waited about an hour until the "boss" came back, and I am not convinced that even he could find the mysterious country of this strange white "African" man. Perhaps in the end it was simply put through as "other".

It's all Greek to me!

After just under a month of cruising through Europe, where besides Spain (Andrew speaks Spanish) we haven't spoken the languages, it is amazing at how much you do know or an guess that gets you by. Then, comes Greece. Where no only do we not have even the most basic knowledge of the language we can't even read it! After trying to read roadsides with the phonetical alphabet found in the back of my lonely planet, not only do ordinary letters have different sounds, but they have three ways of writing the sound for "i". I think another visit to Greece will be required !

Smash and Grab in France

Everybody raves about the parking placs in France where you can just pull over and park for the night. Just like a free camping ground. We were yet to try one but wanting to get to Italy we decided to put in a big drive day and just park up in one of these for the night. We parked not to far from another camper in a park that contained probably close to 50 trucks. We both didn't think we slept that well as it was quite noisy with trucks cruising through looking for a place to park but finding it full.

We were woken up in the moring by some French security guys. Andrew poked his head out the tent and informed me that my window had been smashed. Immediately I was worried about my laptop and camera and got out of bed very quickly. True to his report my window had been smashed and there was glass everywhere. My first thoughts were, "my laptop, my camera!", but apon closer inspection both were still there, despite being reasonably accessible from the front seat. The item that was missing was my bag from India, and I racked my brains trying to remember what was in it. All our wallets, passports and ipods etc were locked away so they were fine. I have since decided that the contents of my bag that they stole were as follows: A roll of brown tape, brown paper from the Spanish post office. A great haul for the window smashers I am sure, but a window we still had to replace.

A quick phonecall to Andrew's parents in South Africa put them on the case of trying to find us a landrover dealer in Nice, the closest city only 150kms away. They put us on to Landrover in Paris (thank you!) and through the good fortune of someone speaking English there, we had an address to head for. So after taping up our window with only a small hole for Andrew to see the left hand side mirror, we were on our way. But nothing is ever easy and a the road had numerous tolls, and I am the one that is on the side that has to pay, so it was a case of peering out the little hole trying to see the screen of how much to pay, and then sticking my hand out the hole with the money! A very comical arrangement for the toll booth worker I am sure!

After ordering our new window and being told it would take 3 or 4 days, we checked ourselves in to a nice little hostel overlooking the French Riviera and so we wait, but I can think of worse places to be stuck than here!

Additional Note: Our window actually arrived within 24 hours and overall I was very impressed by the level of service from Land Rover in France... Thanks!

Pickpocket in Barcelona

While doing the tourist thing in Barcelona, we got on a bus back to the center of town. The bus was packed and I felt my bag move and instinctively put my hand over the opening, where I touched someones hand. Checking my bag I found that it had been opened about 10cms. Nothing had been taken, as my bag hadn't been opened enough and all my expensive things were under my coat in my bag. We confronted the guy none the less who didn't seem to care that he had been busted, and instead of getting off the bus to escape the heat, continued on the prowl for another victim.

So, we stood there and watched him in action. First he twitched alot so that if you made a sudden move you didn't think anything of it. He carried a big black jacket over his arm and so he would press this up to your bag and attempt to open it under his jacket, so you couldn't see. Another girl got on and she had a wallet in a small bum bag like purse. You could see the temptation in his eyes as he manouvered himself closer to her. He used the pole next to her to put his shoe on to tie up his laces. Twitch, twitch, twitch. The girl caught on and checked he wallet and moved away, as most people did. But he never seemed to mind that people had sussed him out, afterall it is just another day at the office.

Crazy Barcelona Roads!

I get the distinct feeling that there was no master plan when it came to the design of all of Barcelona's twists and turns of its motorways. We drove from Geneva to Barcelona no probems, passing through Barcelona about 6:30pm, headed for a campsite area Andrew had stayed at a few years before. Finding that was no problem, but due to a new railway line that was being constructed, all coastal camping in the region had been permanantly closed. "But if you do a U-turn on the motorway and head in the other direction for another exit there is one there" the kind security gueard explained. Sure... No problem. Sounds easy enough!

Motorways in Barcelona are not designed to take an off ramp, drive over the top (or under) and get back on the other side. For nearly an hour we took off ramp after off ramp tryin to turn around. At one point we were within visual reach of our desired direction, however there was a height limit on the ramp of only 2 metres and we are 2.3! Finally we drove all the way though the airport (no short cut there either) to go the correct direction on the motorway, taking us neary an hour to drive 5kms!

Camping in the Swiss Alps

After our short camping stint in Brussels, we found it difficult to find another campsite that was open. It appears that most campsites open on the 15th of March and definately not before. After camping outsides the grounds of a campsite in Heidelberg, and staying in hostels in Munich, Austria and Lucern, we were keen to get back to camping and so we headed for a campsite Andrew knew was open all year round.

True to form, nestled in the middle of some amazing Swiss Alps we found a campsite that was open, with nice amenities/ The view was spectacular and while the sun was up we sat in our chairs in the sunshine and basked in the sunlight. But, then the sun went down and the temperature dropped suddenly. After finishing our dinner very quickly we were in bed at about 8pm. I had my long thermal underwear on (very sexy), my own blanket from my Mum that has a foot pocket in it and our super warm doona in our tent. It was a freezing night and we had ice on the inside of our tent. The only way to stay warm was to snuggle together, and if Andrew even thought about rolling over, I would wake up cold and make him roll back over! Needless to say the next night we were back in a hostel!

The Yellow Beer Tent in Austria

Tonight we found ourselves in the Austrian Alps, mainly due my my navigational skills connecting us from Germany to Switzerland, trying to get a many countries under my belt as possible. Stumbling across a quaint skiing village designed not at all for tourists and having no gear to snowboard, we had to find other ways to entertain ourselves. we set off exploring and in the middle of a carpark, surrounded by four star hotels, was a yellow beer tent making an extreme amount of noise which caught our attention.

Squeezed inside this circluar plastic tent was where the party was happening. And after a couple of Erdingers and a strange pear liquer shot, one of the bar ladies mysteriously disappeared outside. What for you wonder as we did... To fill up the ice bucket with snow of course! hehehehe

And the adventure begins! London to Cape Town

So finally, FINALLY, Andrew and I are jobless and homeless. Well that's not entirely true. We now reside in a blue Landrover which I have affectionally name Priscilla (Queen of the Desert :) ) and we are headed for Afria. Our route is basically across Europe, down Italy, ferry to Greece, drive around to Turkey, Syria, Jordon to Egypt and then down the East Coast if Africa, ending in Cape Town where Andrew grew up.

But big expeditions like this never go smoothly and Day One is no exception. After loading our car with all our stuff (kitchen supplies, stoves, tools, spares, rooftent, furniture and clothes) it seems that Priscilla is struggling a little under the weight and so, our expedition has had it's first minor delay while Priscilla gets treated with some new springs and shockies! Aahhhh! I don't really mind anymore as we have actually left and tomorrow we have a ferry booked for France!

Valentine Wishes

I have recently become an Ebay addict and ordered lots of cool (and very necessary!!) stuff for our trip. The first purchase I made was a new camera and although other stuff I had ordered arrived first, my eagerly awaited camera seemed to be taking its time.

Very appropriately, a package arrived for me on Valentines day and as I signed for it, I noticed the item description was my new camera. Without thinking of what day it was, I said to the 40+ delivery man, "Thankyou! Your my favourite person today!" and gave him a big smile. My reaction quite took him by suprise, but after walking a few steps towards his van, he turned and shouted... "I should have brought you flowers!" hehehehe

Working out in the sticks

Since coming to Biggleswade I have done and been offered all sorts of jobs. I have washed dishes at a pub, washed dishes at a cafeteria, done basic food prep, cleaned a factory, been a receptionist and a bartender. In one job I had been hired, replaced, re-hired, then I quit, then re-hired and promoted all in four weeks! Let me explain.

My first job was a kitchen porter (fancy English name for a dishpig!) at a quaint English pub known as the Royal Oak working two shifts a day, lunch and evening. Despite the fact that the job was washing dishes, I loved it as I got to work with two very crazy Saffa chefs which made anything fun. Unfortunately they were looking for someone a little more permanent and so first I was replaced for the evening shift and then I lost my lunchtime shift.

The next job was washing dishes at a cafeteria in Saxon Valley Foods working from 7 to 11 in the morning. I had to wear a hairnet and everything! Which meant I looked rather stupid but so did everyone else so it didn't matter. In the kitchen I worked with three ladies who were also from South Africa! I was definately getting the feeling that they were taking over the English coutryside! I was supposed to do this job twice but then an ongoing job for the same time slot came up and I switched.

Job number three was cleaning the offices of Jordan's, a cereal company. Once again it was from 7am (and I am not a morning person!). I hated this job with a vengeance. Not because it was early, and not because the people weren't friendly. But because I would work at half pace, do everything on the daily, weekly, and monthly list of things to do and it would only be 9:30am, with still an hour and a half to go. Then I would wander around trying to "look busy" and it just did my head in. After day two it was starting to make me feel depressed (I need to be busy!) and when I was wondering what to do, the Royal Oak called me to say that the evening guy had not worked out and would I like my job back? Yes please! And as much as I wanted to quit the factory job there and then, I made myself go back on Wednesday and quit myself, and not take the cowards way out through an agency.

But, of course there was always the medical trial lurking in the background and after I got through stage one I had to give the pub notice. So, I took a gamble and told them that Thursday would be my last day. On Wednesday evening after work I had a voicemail saying that the trial had been postponed. I went to work on Thursday, knowing that my replacement had already been found and asked for any hours at all. "Well we need someone on Tuesdays and Wednesdays", Ruth my boss said. "Oh and can you work Saturday? and Sunday? Oh and we need someone to work behind the bar on Mondays." Yey! It's like I never quit :)

This week, in addition to nights at the pub, I have been working as a receptionist at Manor Concepts. Basically I sit out in the front area all alone, and answer the phone when it rings every 30 minutes. As boring as it sounds, I don't actually mind it as I am all alone, and so no one is watching me so I can do whatever I like, for example update my website! Aaah! I wonder what next week will bring :)

Medical Trials

Since I have been back in the UK and trying to earn and some quick cash the possibility of participating in a medical trial has come up. At first I was quite dubious due to the bad publicity the trials have received last year where four young men were injected with a brand new drug causing severe reactions that left them fighting for their lives. One of the participants lost his toes and finger tips, another was named the elephant man as his face swelled and swelled. All men now have serious cancer concerns as the drug they were testing was a drug for cancer patients and it has quite frankly ruined their lives.

So why on earth would I want to do this? No amount of money would be worth this, surely? Well the medical trial I was keen on was for antibiotics that were already on the shelf, and it was simply further study. My bio-medical scientist friend (whose idea this was originally!) said it was no big deal and I was pretty keen to earn the big bucks. Originally I thought they paid you those coz you took medicines for them, but in fact in is for a completely different reason.

Originally I was to have one screening on the 19th of January. If succesful would be notified and go into 17 days of hospital/house stay a week later. Three day beforehand that got cancelled but to no avail I could be screened for a similar study which would include two screening days, the first one on the 18th. So along I go for screening one, having abstained from caffeine, chocolate, citrus and certain vegetables as well as alcohol and drugs (which would have been easy did Andrew not bring me back the Turkish flu from Turkey!) I passed this level of screening and with the promise of 2000 pounds I quit my comfy job at the pub already for screening number two.

But alas! The reason why they pay big bucks has become very apparent. Less than 24 hours before my appointment and 48 hours before the trial was to start, I got a message on my voicemail and apparently a sponsor had pulled out and it was all postponed. Not to worry though they had yet another trial I could go for, but the window was too late for me and thus my desire to be a medical guineau pig will just have to go unfulfilled.

Back in the UK

After 3 and a half months of backpacking (oh and a week in Paris over Christmas - how spoilt am I!!) I am back in the real world. The real world this time is Biggleswade in Bedfordshire where Andrew lives. I will be here for about six weeks until Andrew finishes his engineering contract. But, the hitch is that he isn't here. He is in Turkey finishing off his last project and thus I have six weeks to entertain myself out in the sticks of England!

It is definately weird being back in the UK after leaving it once and even stranger not being in London. The first couple of days after Andrew left I registered with all the job agencies here (all three!) to not much avail. I then received a phonecall from one of Andrew's coworkers wives, and she dropped round for a cup of tea! Talk about being a housewife! But it is great to know someone here.

So tonight I am off to my first night of employent. I am kitchen staff at the Royal Oak Pub in Potton (in case anyone wants to drop in!) Classy I know but it is 15p more than minumum wage! ha! Well it's only a few weeks and pounds, no matter how few they will go a long way in Africa. :)

The Ganges: Education vs Faith

Recently I was travelling on an Indian train making polite conversation with a very over eager upperclass Indian male. After anwering the usual questions of what I do and where I live (to which the answers are unemployed and homeless, of which the Indians don't share my excitement) I learnt that my new friend, (who was quickly beginning to invade my personal space), was a medical biologist. He had reached the top level of academic study in the field of microscopic creepy crawlies in Inida and was currently trying to continue his study in the UK.

As I tuned out from his explanation of some kind of bacteria that he thought was facinating and should surely impress me, an intersting train of thought entered my mind. He was Indian. He was Hindu. This means that he should automatically accept that the Ganges was a holy river. But..., he is also a bio-chemist and educated in the dangers of bathing in water that contains that much filth. I wonder if he would bathe in it? Would he think it was safe.

So I asked him. His eyes twinkled at my question, and he leant even closer (although there wasn't much more room to lean) as he let me in on a secret is as big as India. "The Ganges is a very special river" he begins. "The water in it is not only holy, but very special for another reason. It contains a very special bacteria which eats all the nasty bacteria caused by dead bodies decaying and numerous pollutants in the river. No other river in the world has this bacteria, and there have been scientific studies done which prove this". Of course there have I think as I nod and smile. And would he bathe in it? Absolutely. I guess no amount of education can beat ones faith!

India for Tourists

According to my passport I am still in India. I have not received an exit stamp at a immagration counter so I must be. The thing is I don't feel like I am in India anymore. I could be on any beach in the world. Here, I can wear what I want, apparently I can eat what I want (although I am not that brave) and the number of white people easily out number the number of Indians here. Where am I? India that isn't India... Goa.

Life is easy here (thus it doesn't feel like India!). I wake up and got and do two hours of yoga by the beach. Meet my friends for brekky on the beach after that, and spend the rest of the day on the beach until sunset where two for one cocktails draw as 5 more metres from the water to one of the beach bars. Aaaaah! It's a tough life. And as this trip comes to an end I can't help feel that this time, I have earnt my time in the sun.

Have you ever tried Indian Hooker?

We are in a little shop in Pune with my Indian friend Rutu, when he turns to us and asks "Have you ever tried Indian Hooker?" We both look at him aghast thinking he didn't really just ask us that did he? What? we ask.... "Indian Hooker" he repeats. Surely he can't be serious... can he? "Hooker". "H O O K A H"... Ahh! We knew it had to be something else!

NB: Indian Hookah is sheesha, which is scented molasses smoked over coals through a long pipe. There are many flavours such as strawberry, peach, mango, mint and more!

We are Normal!

Travelling in India you meet a lot of couples. The number of individual travellers is quite low and the number of just female travellers is even lower. We have mostly met couples and although we chat about our experiences, Lisa and I have always felt that our experiences have been quite different.

Yesterday after another tough day of dodging photographs and harrassment and went to dinner at a family style restaurant, where travellers all sit around with the family. I remember Lisa saying "Maybe we shouldn't go to such a social kind of restaurant tonight. We aren't really in a very positive mood." I thought about what she said and although agreed, suggested that it would be good for us so off we went.

For the first time this trip we met two girls just travelling just by themselves. We starting talking about our experiences and we found that theirs pretty much mirrored ours. It was soooo refreshing to hear the same kind of stories, challenges and frustrations. It made us feel nearly normal and not like India was going to win at all!

The well of death

During our time in Jaisalmer, there was a fair which featured the famous "Well of Death". This is where a cyclindrical structure with a diameter of 10 metres is constructed and motorbikes and cars hoon around the cylinder on vertical walls. And when it only cost 10 Rupees (25 Aussie cents) you would be crazy to miss it.

It is insane and even though I have seen it and there is a pic below, I still have trouble beleiving it. The structures look farfrom sturdy and I must admit I was waiting for a bike or car to hurl of the top and take out some spectators!

The other insane thing about Indian fairs is the complete absence of women. We certainly couldn't stand in one place for too long or we would attract a circle of onlookers. When we braved the onlookers to wait for 15 minutes for the fire jumping act to begin we became such a spectacle that we got ushered into the VIP area by staff, possibly so we didn't overshadow the act!

Delhi is not so crazy!

Many a person warned us about Varanasi as a first Indian city. Yet when you start with the toughest the rest seem like smooth sailing.

Our first impression of Delhi was quite chilled, with not that much rubbish and not that many touts. Sales people just weren't that aggressive and we could out tout the touts! Harrassment seem to roll of our backs as we had heard it all before.

I think if I had just stepped of a plane and gone straight into the chaos that is called Delhi I would have a very different opinion, but for now I will smile my smug smile and no that India has not going to win this round, I have. :)

Each end of the spectrum

They say you either love or hate India. There is no grey area. No in between. I am beginning to understand what this means, although at the moment I am finding I both love and hate it at the same time.

India is not somewhere you come for a relaxing holiday (unless you go to Goa I suppose). It evokes emotions in me that I had long ago learnt to deal with and control. Every day brings challenges that I cannot begin to explain. I constantly feel like I am being cheated. I am constantly on edge trying to avoid being groped. I constantly find myself surrounded by Indian men as a spectacle (no wonder the women stay at home!) I unfortunatly, find myself constantly suspicipus and building a wall around myself for protection. Some of the people I have met thus far are brilliant, like gems sparkling in amongst the rubble. Some of the people are simply rubble.

As I have said time and time again, no matter how beautiful somewhere is, it is the people of a coutry that make or break it for me. I am wondering what tomorrow will bring and if the gems will outshine the rubble. After just over a week, I still wondering if I will love or hate India. I guess time will tell.

Burning bodies and the Ganges

On our way to India when we met other travellers who had been to India they would always ask where we were going. "Our first stop will be Varanasi" we would say. This was almost always followed by a long pause. "That's a tough city to start with" they would say. "Better to do that later". Geographically if we didn't start there we wouldn't get to go, so unduturbed we stuck to our plan.

Varanasi is a crazy city. The most predominant item on city streets outside of rubbish is cow dung. Cows are sacred to the Hindus so everything, people, cycle rickshaws, auto rickshaws, cars, trucks and buses all give way to the cows. Sometimes you turn an abrupt corner in an alley in teh old city and a confronted by a charging cow and although I grew up on a farm and think i can handle cows, these cows are cared and spoilt so I am very quick at getting out of the way.

But this is not what Varanasi is famous for. Varanasi is famous for people being cremated and their ashes being scattered (such a delicate image that word evokes!) into the Ganges so that they can be reincarnated as a higher being. This is the dream of any devoted Hindu.

In day one in Varanasi we made a friend "Raj" who took us to the burning Ghats to see the people being cremated. Photos are not permitted by imagine special wood piled high then a corpse wrapped in cotton put on top and then the wood is lit. It all seems very surreal, a product of growing up with violent movies, until the smell of burning flesh reaches your nostrils. And there is no escaping this smell, It wafts its way down street and lanes alike, reminding you that this is what Varanasi is all about.

They say the wood is chosen because it burns at a very high temperature and a body is completely burnt, bar part of the hips for women and the chest for men. However I beg to differ. One morning we rose early and went out on a boat to see the sunrise over the river as all the pilgrims made their way to the river. A real treat was seeing the entire bottom half of someone's poor relative floating alongside our boat, feet blue and bloated. I'm not sure their cremation techniques are as good as they think, nor will I join the thousands of people that not only was and bathe in the river, but also rinse out their mouths!

Indian chicken bus

The buses in India are famous. When we crossed the border from Nepal, after a 6 hour bus ride and a short journey on the roof of a jeep, we found ourselves in the nomans land of India. Where we crossed the border is not a usual tourist border corssing, and as such both our guidebooks failed to tell us what lay on the otherside.

After walking down a completely chaotic street, overflowing with trucks crossing the border and people selling everything, we found a bus. "Varanasi???" I asked hopefully. "Varanasi" came the reply. Yey! We had found a bus that went all the way! How easy was this! After settling in our seats I asked the conductor... "What time do we arrive in Varanasi?" Blank look. I tried again. "What time arrive Varanasi?". Another blank look. After one more attempt with gestures, 2:30 he replied.

2:30??? He must not of understood. It must be about 2:30 now. (With only one small clock between the two of us that had accidentally been reset we had no idea of the time). He must mean when we leave. Oh well... we will find out. And we did, and it was no case of misunderstanding. We arrived at 2:36am, 12 hours later. Welcome to India!!!

A parcel with my stamps

Due to a severe case of shortage of room in my backpack, I decided to post my China and Nepal Guidebooks home by seamail from Nepal. I went to the post office and was told it would cost 1300 Nepalese Rupees. No problem. I was then given 1300 Rupees worth of 50 Rupee stamps. The result is below!!!

Trekking in Nepal

Up until the middle of October, anyone who wanted to trek in Nepal simply had to get a permit for the region they would be in and away they could go. However due to recent changes in the trekking laws this is no longer possible. Now everyone must be accompanied by a Nepalese porter of guide (who you must pay a daily wage to) as well as obtain a Trekking Rgeistration Certificate (TRC).

Lisa and I had intended to carry our own stuff but due to the change in the law, we ended up hiring a porter as this was the cheapest option there was. The upside was we didn't have to carry our own stuff, the downside was we felt like we had a 'keeper' for our entire trek.

Our porter 'Raisin' was a good person and acted like our big brother and helped us deal with the Maoists. However perhpas due to the fact that he was a porter and not a guide, he didn't really have the knowledge of what was acceptable and what wasn't when travelling with two girls. When we would arrive at our destination for the night, instead of just leaving us to it, he would come and sit in our room and just want to hang out. Meanwhile we had hung up our sweaty clothes and underwear to dry so we didn't really feel all that comfortable.

On one particular evening he got quite drunk with his other porter mates who were at the same guesthouse, and as he had eyes for Lisa, came and sat with us while we were playing cards, particular close to Lisa to the point that an Irishman Brian who we had met along the way introduced a new rule into 500 where you change seats midhand, so that Raisin found himself rather close to an Irishman and not Lisa!

Perhaps we should have been a little more upfront with what made us feel uncomfortable from the beginning but when you know you have the next 6 days with someone the last thing you want to do is get them offside and ruin the atmosphere of the trek. However we were very gald to be rid of our keeper in the end and if I had to do it again I would pay more for a guide! Oh and the mountains and scenery were beautiful!

Maoist Terrorism in Nepal

Nepal is rated a 4 on a scale of 1 to 5 of dangerous places to go. Depsite being a place I have wanted to go for sooo long, I nearly didn't visit because of this. The media portrays the Maoists as very violent but when you research the topic no tourists have been harmed so Nepal was put back on the itinerary but as a precaustion the number of days was reduced.

My first encounter with them was from the Tibetan border on the way to Kathmandu. There were four of us in a jeep, Lisa and the two Swiss boys we had been travelling with. One of them Romano who had been to India and Nepal many times speaks Hindi and was sitting upfront with the driver.

The driver warned us to put our money away and have minimal in our wallets as there was a Maoists checkpoint coming up. True to his word the vehicle was soon stopped by someone who didn't look a day over 14 and had a rifle slung over his shoulder. Even sitting safely in the backseat my heart was beating as negotiations began.

Basically we were to pay a tax to the "People Government of Nepal" and as Romano negotiated the price claiming we had no rupees as we had just come from the border and intended to go to a bank to pay our driver the price slowly fell. Eventually we paid only 500 rupees for the four of us and as he issued us a receipt (modern terrorists!!) we spotted that most vehicles had paid thousands of rupees. It definately helped to look poor and have someone who spoke Hindi.

The next encounter was trekking in the Anapurna region. Once again we were stopped at an "official" checkpoint and asked to pay tax. This time it was 100 rupees per day of trekking ammounting to 600 rupees each. With help from out porter we explained we had paid once but didn't have the reciept (the guys still had it) and suprisingly we were waved through. We soon learnt that the region is different and the receipt would not have helped us and were very lucky to pass.

The next checkpoint was on our second last day and as we had made it through the toughest checkpoint our nepalese porter advised us to say we had paid at checkpoint number one and say the person who has the receipt got sick and returned to Pokhara. This story got us through this checkpoint as well as the one on the final day.

Although they did have weapons they certainly were not what I expected. I thought that we would be stopped at random, not at "official" checkpoints. The Maoists also listened to what we had to say and when deciding that we could pass would shake our hands in a friendly manner. Not many people trek in teh Annapurna Range and not pay and what we did is pretty unheard of. The one thing that I still can't quite comprehend is how a Maoists checkpoint would be 5m from a Nepalese Governement checkpoint but nothing was ever done!

Everest Base Camp

The sun rises in Tibet at about 8am as all of China is on Beijing time. We got up at 6:30am and left at 7am to walk the 8km from Rongbuk Monastery where we had stayed to Everest Base Camp (EBC). EBC had actually been completely packed up week before as the temperatures had dropped too low.

The temperature was minus 10 and it was pitch black. The altitude was close to 5200m metres and considering I had only been at any altitude for six days there is no wonder I was having trouble breathing. Oh and I had lost complete feeling in my hands, so yes it was very very cold!

As we walked Everest slowly materialised in front of us as the sun slowly shone on her Eastern side. No luck for us coming from the North, the sun wouldn't get high enough to get over the other mountains for a few hours yet. Still we kept walking.

The sky went from black to navy blue to a postcard perfect blue, as Everest picked up the sunlight. They say you need to get up early so you can see her before the clouds come in. We were up early and she rewarded us with a perfect cloudless sky. It was freezing cold and I now know what an asthma sufferer feels like but to stand in front of the world's highest mountain and gaze up is something I will never forget!

The Kindness of Tibetans

On day one of our 4wd trip across the Tibetan Plateau I woke up feeling great. A few hours later however I started to feel a little nauseous and then went downhill from there...fast. It is great fun being ill in a 4wd where you hve just met two of the travellers and your Tibetan driver speaks no English.

By the time we stopped for lunch, whatever I had eaten that my body was rejecting was well on its way out. I stayed in the back of the 4wd while the others went upstairs for lunch. Unfortunately, my stomach was having no such rest and I was forced to be sick out the car door onto the cement carpark of the hotel.

When this happened the second time, I found I had attracted the attention of the Tibetan ladies that ran the place and despite my protests I was whisked out of the car, bustled into a free room, my shoes were taken off, and not one but two doonas were placed on top of me. Oh and I was given water and a rubbish bin to be sick in. The little Tibetan lady kept saying to me, "no problem... your friends eat 5 minutes, you sleep 5 minutes". Two hours later we left with me a little better in the backseat.

In Lhasa, where the majority of the population is Chinese, people will do anything for you, for money. However in rural Tibet, it was refreshing to receive a hand, not for money but because I was ill. To me it is the people that make or break a place, and despite the mountains being amazingly beautiful, it was this little old Tibetan lady that truly touched my heart.

Moment with a Monk

Yesterday we got out of Lhasa and went on a trip to a famous Monastery, Drepung Monastery. We were not quite sure what to expect, but we ceertainly didn not expext this place to have quite the effect on us that it did.

We caught the local minibus to the intersection and then not wanting to walk up the long windy hilly road, hitched a ride with some monks on the back of a little three wheeled truck. The view from the Monastery was amazing, overlooking Lhasa with the mountains in the background.

However the higher we climbed through the monasery the better the view got, and the more relaxed w felt as the serenity of the place took over. Our newly acquired Tibetan greetings went down well with the monks and we often had short conversations with them.

The highlight was our meeting with one older monk. He was standing on a rooftop, the highet point in the monastery and he beckoned us up, through usually locked gates. The view from here was fantastic and no words were necessary as the three of us stood on what seemed like the top of the world. The monk late took us on a special tour of a locked shrine and in broken English and even more broken Tibetan we shared a few words. It truly was a special moment and I felt so honoured to be shown these special places and when we left this monastery our cheeks hurt from smiling so much!

Beijing to Tibet

One of the things I really wanted to do during this trip was ride on the contraversial new train from Beijing to Lhasa in Tibet. Known as the highest train in the world, the track is made of permafrost so that it does not freeze, as the highest part of the track is over 5000m.

The train was new, as it only began service in June. Each cabin is equiped with ogygen inputs so that you kindly suffer altitude sickness not on the train, but when you arrive in Lhasa (3700m). There are even English recordings payed at random intervals so that you can understand more about teh train and the scenery it passes through.

Everyone on the train, traveller, Chinese or Tibetan is excited to be there. No one has done this trip so many times that it is boring and as a traveller it is great to see your own excitement reflected in the eyes of the local people. It was not only us that were taking poictures through the windows, but the Chinese and Tibetans as well.

In our hard sleeper of six there were Lisa and I, 3 Chinese people and 1 Tibetan lady. Part way through day two (it's a 48 hour journey) a couple of the Tibetan lady's friends came to visit and what resulted was a crash course in Tibetan, taught in Chinese! And in the end, it will not be the train nor the scenery that stands out the most, but this random meeting and exchange of words, smiles and confused looks that I will remember the longest.

Thoughts on China

I try very hard not to have an image of countries and it's people before I see it for myself, but this is often easier said than done. Any percepetion of China I had before I came has been obliterated and it has not been at all what I expected, in a very positive sense.

I expected China to be dirtier, the people less friendly, the cities bmore crowded and overrun. My first impression of china was completed the opposite. Most parts of China have been cleaner than the part of London I used to call home. There are continually people cleaning the streets, and although people do spit, and the toilets sometimes do smell (lack of plumbing not cleanliness), they are nothing to what I had expected.

The people too have amazed me at their friendliness. And despite everyone in China being an entrepeur, I have found that everyone is interested in talking to you, and it has frustrated me to no end not having the language skills to sit and chat. My Japanese kanji skills have come in more handy than I thought, and many a conversation has been had in writing, despite the characters being different, when written down I can usually guess the gist of the question and write a responce that gets smiles and nods.

The other highlight of China has by far been its food. I now understand why Chinese people can make it in any country with their restaurants. The real Chinese food no matter what the region is fantastic. Occasionally we have ordered something that has not been intentional, but always always we have had a good feast. In China the days did not revolve around the tourist attractions, but instead where the next feast will happen!

Tibet here we come!

After months of research and trying to organise permits into Tibet in advance so I could ride the brand new 4000m high train (that's altitude not height!) today we managed to organise permits in less than 12 hours (with a little money of course. :)

We now have hard sleepers on the 17th of October on a 48 hour train journey that will take us to Lhasa, the capital of Tibet. We were feeling well chuffed (how English am I!!) and were chatting to some guys at our hostel when they mentioned that there is a huge blackmarket in thee permits and that ours are probably not real... hmmm Oh well we have our tickets and the name and the number of the guy whos sold them so I hope they let us in! :)

Chinese Logic

One of the things I enjoy most about travelling is trying to work out the logic of the people in each country. Your common sense in situations ceases to be relevant and it's like sitting at a table in the middle of a game of cards, where no one is speaking and not knowing the game let alone the rules. You have to watch carefully and make you moves on your interpretation of what you have seen, mostly incorrectly.

Chinese logic has been tricky to grasp and I am no closer now than I was two weeks ago. I don't understand why one ticket window tells me there is no train tickets available, and yet the one next to it sells me a ticket no worries, even though everyone assures me there is a central ticketing system so any window should give me the same answer.

I am yet to figure out why China has traffic lights as they seem to have no effect on the cars going and stopping. I have figured how to cross one of these roads though... shadow a local! I don't understand why babies have bottomless pants (I must google this or if anyone knows???) nor why rice comes not with a meal but half an hour after all your other food has come!

All these things are the quirls of travelling, however the other night I experienced some Chinese logic that I am happy not to question. We went to a bar for a drink after dinner in Xian. The bar turned out to be a club with two dance floors and no cover charge. After several attempts we found a bar and a bartender and bought drinks.

Then we started to look around. Piled high on all teh tavles and the bar were bottles of beer. When we had finished our first try as we might we could not buy another beer. The people behind the bar were patrons not bartenders, and when the friendly Chinese found out we wanted beer, we were promptly given our own 'stash' for our table. When we had finished these beers more just kept coming and then Lisa and I discovered a huge fruit platter and popcorn as well. We stayed many hours in this club and besides our first drink never paid a cent. Despite our total lack of Chinese and everyone else's lack of English, we found everyone very friendly and merrily chatted away all night. It was our best night out yet and why it was all free? I can live without knowing!!! :)

An Epic Train Journey

Unbeknown to us, Lisa and I landed in Shanghai at the beginning of a week of National holidays. We had intended to leave Shanghai on Saturday, but all tickets to Chengdu were sold out and after walking around for 6 hours the only ones that were available were hard seats. 46 hours on a hard seat. We were so desperate to just find tickets at this stage we thought, 46 hours, can't be too bad! We spent te next three days trying to positive saying to each other it won't be too bad, knowing fair well it was going to be horrific!

We got to the station early and when boarding began we hurried down with hundreds of Chinese. We found our seats and packed and repacked our luggage in the overhead racks. We didn't get much leg room as the ladiesd travelling opposite us had not suitcases but buckets (yes buckets!) of lugage which they put in te area in front of them.

We had received a tip (thanks Andrew!) that we may be able to upgrade so after a few miscommunications, I set off to carriage 8 (we were in carriage 3) to try my luck. After an epic journey of climbing over luggage and around trolleys selling things I found the desk and through a combination of written chinese characters, gestures and sweet smiles I was given a price to upgrade to a hard sleeper. A sleeper! I had no money on me so I had to race back to carriage 3 and then back to carriage 8 (a good 10 mins each way!) where I was rewarded with sleeper tickets. Back to carriage 3 again to get Lisa and our valuables then all the way to carriage 15. But the journey wasn't over yet. We then had to go one by one to get our backpacks!

Never in my life have I appreciated being able to be horizontal so much! And 46 hours or not, we had a great time because all we had to do was look at our sleepers and it made us smile :)

Lisa and Me and Puyao

Hawkers are abundant in the city of the oriental pearl, and we learnt the hard way how to handle them. On our first night, still naieve to Chinese ways, had a guy follow us for nearly 20 minutes wanting to draw our portrait. It wasn't that his price was high, nor that we didn't have the time but quite simply that we just didn't want what he was selling!

We are a little wiser now and have a secret weapon up our sleave. If ignoring them doesn't work, and a polite no thankyou in Chinese doesn't work it is time for the big guns. 'Pu Yao' literally means 'I don't want' in Chinese but is simply the best hawker repellant ever made. By using this you are instantly transferred from dumb tourist to savvy local and are left alone accordingly! Don't go shopping with it!

Chinese for a day

Today we caught a train to Hangzhou as a day trip from Shanghai. On the train we got talking to an English guy and his Chinese girlfriend. A Chinese lady came around selling tickets for 20 Yuan for a bus ride around Hangzhou stopping at 6 tourist attractions. Of course we didn't understand a word of this but through our new found friends this was translated and as it sounded like a great deal we thought... why not! There was also a mention of a discounted ticket into all the attractions for 145 Yuan. But we didn't need to go in all the places, so we decided we would just pay when we wanted to.

This is how we ended up on a 100% Chinese Tour. When we tried to explain to the tour leader that we just wanted to enter the ones we wanted to, he got rather stressed. Eventually we realised through the transalation of a fellow passenger that this was not a hop-on hop-off style bus we had first thought! So we paid the 145 Yuan and after the first hour of the tour we found out why we had made our tour guide rather stressed! We went from bus to boat to walking tour to boat to bus! haha! And this was just in the first hour! No wonder our tour leader was having a stress when we told him we would just sit outside!

And so progressed our day of a chinese tour. When we arrived at attractions it was pot luck to where we were and what we would do but we followed along amusing ourselves, and had a great day. At most of the attractions, (like the old Song Dynasty Theme Park) we were the only white faces and we became an attraction in ourselves. Our tour guide did eventually adopt a very loud 'let's go!' through his loud speaker to find us though!

In Shanghai!!!

Last night after delayed flights and hours of travelling I arrived safe and sound in Shanghai greeted by Lisa holding a sign with my name on it! Just as well as I may not have recognised her! hahaha! We decided to head into the city and got a taxi driver who not only didn't speak English (that's ok) but got ccmpletely lost and the wanted to charge us for the scenic route! < I gave him more than was reasonable and made sure Lisa had out bags out of the boot before I got out of the taxi! But all in all we are doing well and off to explore Shanghai! yey!

Farewell London

And so today I bid London farewell. I have only been here for 10 months, a relatively short time considering other places I have lived, but this time I have been dealt the card of adventure and not career, and so I must play it with as must gusto as other opportunities I have been dealt in the past. As most of you probably know after a short stop in Oz for my brother's wedding, I will be off to backpack from Shanghai to Bombay, passing through Nepal in the middle. My time in London has been short and sweet and I am grateful for all the friendships I have been able to make in only a short time, but don't forget me! I will be back at Christmas time on my way to Africa, where the real adventure will begin!

Weather Fact: London vs Brisbane

I have come to the realisation that London has the shortest, coolest summer ever. In fact I now understand why we call the English "winging Poms" back home. That said I now understand their winging and unfortunately have found myself joining in.

During one such grumbling session with the girls I commented that this "mid summer" weather was the same as the "mid winter" weather where I grew up. In order to prove or disprove this theory, BBC weather was consulted and the findings are below:

LONDON                  BRISBANE

As you can see, mid winter where I grew up is mid summer in London, and with five perfectly sunshine days, they don't call it the "Sunshine Coast" for nothing! They say you don't appreciate what you have until you leave, but I get it now! I truly do! Bring on the sunshine!

NOTE: For those of you who are not familiar with Aussie Geography, the Sunshine coast is located 100km north of Brisbane. So if anything it is a little warmer and sunnier!

Attempted Resignation

Today I tried to resign. Due to the fact that I am nothing more than a mere temp, I thought it would be a simple task of telling my boss that I will be leaving and the date of my last day. Despite the fact that when I began this job I had said it would probably only be until September, my boss seemed utterly suprised! He ushered me into a meeting room to discuss my "sudden" resignation in more detail.

Apparently my boss and my G.M. had been discussing my current position and wanted to offer me visa sponsorship and a new position in my current department. The newly created postion would be doing import/export sales admin for the Middle Eastern team. The position sounds interesting and although I would love to stay with Sumitomo and become a permanent part of the team, they made one fatal error in their discussion of this position... They didn't include me.

I have plane tickets booked and paid for, and plans made, and so after a discussion of a reasonable salary and perks, I have decided to turn the offer down. Had they asked me a couple of months ago it would have been a little harder to decide, but now I have travelled too far down the road to leaving. And afterall, I have decided that if I am going to begin to climb the corporate ladder yet again, I want to do it somewhere permanent... say like home!

Heatwave

Apparently London is having a heatwave at the moment. Scorching temperatures so high that roads are melting and tubes have to run at a slower speed so the tracks don't buckle.

I on the other hand am loving these "scorching" temperatures that are in the mid 30s. I walk to and from work and enjoy wearing singlet tops and flip flops. I am driving the Brits at work crazy with my cheeriness but hey I can't help it.... I'm Aussie and we just call this summer.

Football vs Soccer

I was sitting in the reception area of the London Chamber of Commerce today, happily waiting for some documents to be certified, watching the world cup on one of the big flat screen TVs. There was a very rough, working class English man also waiting and as unlikely as it was we started talking. I referred to the game being played as "soccer" and not "football". His whole mood changed ,obviously annoyed at me being such a stupid female and he immediately corrected me "it's football love, not soccer". I then pointed out (in a very small voice... I didn't want to argue with an English fan!) that my team was called the "Socceroos" and thus it was only right I called it soccer. He looked at me, thought for a moment, his face slowly changing from a scowl to a smile as he said "Aah! I'll pay that one! Fair enough!".

Sumitomo World Cup Policy

This morning I got to our Monday morning meeting and on the agenda was Sumitomo World Cup policy. The Japan vs Australia match was on today and I was sure Sumitomo was going to be a typical Japanese company of all work no play :( I was therefore very pleasantly suprised to learn that the policy is you can watch, if it is your country playing. Now to be fair it would not feel right to go on and turn on the TV by yourself to watch a Togo match if you were from Togo, but being Australia vs Japan meant that not only half the office was watching, I was allowed to watch too! :)

However sitting in a room with 50 Japanese people and being the only Aussie supporter is a little bit daunting. When the Aussie goal keeper saved a goal, I would do a very quiet two finger clap. When Japan scored in the 25th minute, I sunk low into my seat.

I was well rewarded for supporting Oz though as most of you probably know Australia then scored three goals, one after the other in the last 10 minutes. My mini two finger clapping turned into a proper clap on goal one, a clap and a cheer for goal two, and a gloatful shout, cheer and clap by goal three. I then returned to my desk printed out an Aussie flag and taped it to the top of my computer! Aussie Aussie Aussie!!! Oi Oi Oi!!!

Big Head the Pirate Cat

Last weekend, my friend who works with kids in the circus in the US was home and so I was lucky enough to be invited back down to Cornwall again. However she is form a place called Falmouth, which is in the south western corner of cornwall.

Her parents were kind enough to take me all the way down to the very south western tip, known as Lands End, which was mysterious and misty and had it been several hundred years early, I may well have beleived that it was indeed the end of the earth. As with many other places I have visited, the memory that stands out the most from my visit was not that of the place but of the people and I met one such character that I will not soon forget.

His name was Frank, and he was the local silver smith/jeweller at Land's End. He was also the chosen companion of a cat who was the inspiration for a story called "Big Head the Pirate Cat", who spends his days sleeping on a cushion on Frank's counter obviously exhausted from all his adventures when he was a younger cat.

After a very good didgeridoo demonstration (I told you he was a character!) he then proceeded to melt, hammer, shape and file a 10cm piece of wire (well thats what it appeared to be to me!) into a very special ring, perfectly sized to fit me. The best souvenirs I have from around the world are not the ones I have bought, but the ones that have been given or made for me. This one I will keep forever and it will always remind me of Frank an Big Head at Lands End. :)

The Australia

Over the long Easter weekend, Tones, Nigel (a friend from Manchester) and I ventured up to North Wales to a tiny town called Porthmadog (aka Port Mad Dog, pronounced Portmaddock), a tiny town of 4000 people in the Snowdonian region. It has one main street, home to about four pubs one of which was amusingly enough called "The Australia".

With a name like that (and not many other options) we couldn't resist checking out what delights from home that lay inside so we ventured in to find out. "I wonder if they have VB or XXXX" said Tones as he peered over the bar to the fridges behind. Unable to find anything Nigel asked the chick behind the bar what Australian drinks they had. "Ummmmmmm.... none really" she said. Then a smile washed over her face as she realised something. "We have fosters" she piped up, very pleased with herself until Nige pointed out "but that's brewed in Manchester!". So much for the Australia... it didn't even have Tassie on the maps!

Mystery Solved

How do you get everyone you know that you haven't heard from for a while to email you? Easy! Write a diary entry about a secret admirer and don't follow it up! Thank you everyone for your curiosity!!!

Well this week, I received more flowers and another mystery note. This was followed up by a phonecall and the mystery is solved. They were all from a guy I met while travelling in South America, and it seems he is coming to London and wants to catch up. Will be interesting to see him again and I am looking forward to it.

However, I have one confession to make. I haven't been totally honest with you all. I have actually known who the flowers were from since I got the first lot. After I got them, I did a bit of detective work and called Interflora. Apparently sender information is confidential, but I managed to sweet talk the guy on the phone and he was kind enough to divulge that the billing address was South African, which solved the mystery for me. But, I couldn't write it on here because he may have read it and I didn't want him to know! Of course all the details were on my Japanese site...

More mystery...

So I got my flowers... and they are beautiful... but I am no closer to solving the mystery of who sent them to me. You see the card was signed... "your secret admirer". Hmmmm, I may have to do some detective work. But whoever you are... THANK YOU!!!

Mystery Flowers!!!

Whoever sent me flowers please own up!!! Pleeeaaassse! The suspense is killing me!

Let me explain. Yesterday I got home to a card from Interflora. They had tried to deliver flowers to me and I wasn't home. I called the shop but they had already finished for the day yesterday, so I had to wait til this morning. I called them and as they would close before I would get home, they lady suggested that she leave them with the offy next to her shop.

So tonight, after a job interview that I had to try really hard to focus on and not the flowers, I get to the offy with a big smile on my face... Finally the mystery will be solved! Or not... The lady from the flower shop has a sick child and so she left work in a hurry... and forgot my flowers. Aaaaaaaaaah! Now I have to wait til tomorrow!!!

Italian Men

European men are famous for being full on... and Jem and I had a few funny experiences during our mini break in Rome... First, we had men in tights want kisses from us, and we figured any man that could bear wearing tights probably deserved them! (see pic one below) Then we had a random Italian guy not want to take a picture for us, but wanting to be in a picture with me! (see pic two below) I was asked if I was Bulgarian, because apparently Bulgarian women are the most beautiful in the world (how is that for a come on line??? However... it totally bombed as I'm not Bulgarian!) Oh and we got flashed in the park in the Vatican city. Jem saw him first and I have never seen her go so red, and beleive me Jem does not embarrass easily!... then when he walked past again and we both broke in to fits of giggles (which I admit was not the best reaction as it did encourage him I am sure) but we couldn't help it as it was the last thing we expected in the Vatican City in broad daylight!

Introducing Breanna Cate Burnett

I'm a double auntie! My other big brother Brad and his wife Cathy had their first baby... and it's a girl! Born in at around 8 pounds both mother and daughter are doing well. I can't wait to meet her but will have to wait until September when I fly home for Rick's wedding. Congratulations Brad and Cathy!

No more winters!!!

I have had enough! Up until now I hadn't actually thought London was that cold, and with central heating it's not like it is hard to get up in the morning... But! recently, just when my logic is telling me it should be getting warmer, it has become even colder and we have had snow to prove it!!!

I just worked out this is actually my 6th year in a row of a proper winter and considering 20 of the years before that I thought winter meant wearing a cardigan (or worse... shoes!!!), next year I want to be in a tropical place for winter... At least I am off to Rome tomorrow where it is 10 degrees warmer than London!!!

Classy Caledonian Rd

I live in a real classy part of London... I really do. I mean where else do you get to cross yellow police tape to get to your front door...? Or where buses stop just down the road, interior lights off, outside lights flashing with a recording voice stating over and over "This bus is being attacked... Please call 999"...?

Still... obvious entertainment value perks aside, even living in the middle of Tokyo was not as convenient as Calli Road. Walking distance to both Kings Cross and Angel, night buses that stop 15 metres from our front door, and an Offy literally five doors down, I am starting to worry about how I would react at home if I actually had to drive somewhere! Oh! and I didn't mention the chicken burgers from the Kebab Shop on our block... Perfect for when you wake up at 3pm on a Sunday!!! Just make sure you don't get egged by the Calli Kids!

JET from another perspective

Today I had a great day. Today I was invited to the Japanese Embassy in London to sit on the interview panel for CIRs (Co-ordinators for International Relations) for the JET Programme. After being a CIR myself, and then working in the management of the programme for two years in Tokyo, I felt very honoured to be invited to be on the panel. My fellow panel members were the Director of CLAIR (Council of Local Authorites for International Relations) in London and the Education Attache at the Embassy of Japan, so as you can see I was in good company! :)

Being my first time on an interview panel it was interesting to see how different the candidates were, and how easily and quickly you could define a good candidate from a bad one, and what characteristic made them so. Simple things such as how you hold yourself, and how you sit make a huge difference. And, never again will i be tempted to waffle on in an interview.

I finished at four in the afternoon, and as the Embassy is across the road from Green Park, went for a nice stroll in the sun, and then went home early on a Friday! Sometimes I love my life! :)

Happy Valentines...

I'm not a big fan of Valentine's Day, and haven't been for a long time. There is something unnatural about walking down the street looking into restaurant windows and seeing couples lined up at tables having "romantic dinners". For me, a gesture that comes from the heart on any other day of the year holds far more meaning than a gesture that has come from the brainwashing of commercialisation. This year's Valentine's was spent drinking red with a friend who just had his heart broken. All that said, I want to tell you about my favourite Valentine's present this year. It happened on a very crowded tube on the way home after work. A guy who was sitting, stood up, gestured to me to sit with a smile. I just love random acts of kindness and I carried that smile with me all the way home. Happy Valentine's Day!

Suprise!!!

For the last few months, Al and I have been carefully planning a suprise for Tones. Her and Yoshi were coming to visit on their way to Tokyo (the long way) for Yoshi's brother's wedding. I have been carefully making up all kinds of random reasons why Tony couldn't go away, and why he was busy a whole string of nights on one weekend while they were here. And with only one week to go, I had to share my secret with someone else Al and Yoshi wanted to see... and the suprise seem to spread like wildfire.

With three days to go, Tones comes home from work and gave me the third degree on Allison. What was she doing, when the wedding was, and so on. I was as vague as possible but I was sure Tony had figured it out... The next few days saw creative evasive tactice, with emails from Al talking about weekend plans meaning she couldn't possibly be in London, but still we thought he knew...

Al and Yoshi arrived first, and when Tones came home, I said "are you ready for your suprise?". The moment he said "Let me take my coat off first!", I knew he hadn't figured it out, so I said "No!" and lead him into the living room, and his reaction could not hav been faked!!! I love organising suprises for people, and I love it even more when they work!

Introducing Charlize Rose Lowe

On the 8th of December last year I became an auntie! My little sister Brooke and her husband Tim had their first child, Charlize Rose, a healthy 8 pounds 16 ounce girl. I finally got some pictures so I can boast to you all! Isn't she beautiful! Hopefully she won't grow too big by September when I get to see her.

I must have a way with Drivers...

Everyone here always says the bus drivers are famous for their rudeness. They won't wait for anyone and often even refuse to let you on their bus. But for some reason I have had a different experience. On numerous occasions I have buses which are already moving off, stop again, just for me. It may have something to do with men's weakness for a damsel in distress, but I think it's a special power I weild and let me tell you why.

Japanese trains are famous for their punctulaity. And I don't just mean to the minute, I mean to the second. They travel hundreds of kilometres and arrive exactly on time. When I first lived in Japan (ten years ago now!!!) I used to catch the train to school everyday, and as I was the only white girl in a Japanese school uniform for miles, I was pretty well known.

On one occasion, it was the weekend and my friends and I were heading from the inaka (the sticks) into the big city of Aomori for some shopping. I got half way there on my mama-chari (tredley) when I realised that I had left my spending money at home. I did an about turn and peddled as fast as I could to retrieve my money and hopefully make it to the train. If I missed that train I had a 2 hour wait 'til the next one and thus would get two hours less with my friends. After peddling my heart out, I arrived at the station and the trains was already there. I still had to go up the steps and across the tracks and down the otherside.

As I ran through the ticket gate and showed my pass, the station master said to me 'You aren't going to make it!'. And he was right the train was already pulling away. As I ran up the stairs the driver of the train was watching me (they drive from the back of the train in the country!) I brought my hands to chest in a prayer position and begged the driver with my eyes. The train slowed and I ran down the stairs on the otherside and jumped on the train. My friend who was already on the train said to me later... 'I didn't think you were going to make it, but when the train slowed down I knew you had made it. The driver only would have done that for you!'

So, if I can make a Japanese train wait for me, which if you ask any Japanese person or person that has lived in Japan is unheard of, the English bus drivers are a push over! And besides, sometimes their smiles just make my day! :)

X Rated

After a busy weekend so far, Leasha and I just wanted to chill out in front of some DVDs today. However, neither of us knew a rental shop nearby. No worries, like everything these days, I googled it. I Found one that was not so far away and off we set. We found it no worries... only it was an adult video store! Ooops! Not quite what we had in mind!

It's a small world!

Last May, when I was still living in Tokyo I met three cool guys from London who were on holidays while drinking at Advocates, an outdoor bar in Nichome (Shinjuku, Tokyo). We ended up at a trashy dance club and had such fun that we exchanged email addresses. About a month later I got an email form one of the guys, and we promised to catch up in London when I eventually made it there. So yesterday, after cleaning out my inbox I found this email and mailed the guy I had been in contact with. This was his reply...

Hey! I meant to e-mail you recently, because last month I was so sure I saw you walk down the Popstarz staircase. It's a gay clubnight in King's Cross on Fridays, have you ever been or did I imagine it?

Yes yes... that was me :) Turns out this guy friend works there! May just head on up there tonight to catch up, after all it is only 10 mins walk from home!