Not much more to tell really. Got up at unattractive hour Wednesday morning to catch the plane from Santiago, arrived at Sao Paulo lunchtime, spent the afternoon watching the rain bucket down at the airport, followed by 11 hours home to London overnight - bumpy due to South American thunderstorms. All smooth however by the time we arrived into somewhat colder - like about 30 degrees, Celsius that is - Heathrow this morning around 8am. I was home for 10, and in plenty of time to pick Ellen up from school at noon. In some ways odd, and in other ways just totally normal, to be standing out there again with the other mums (not many dads on the lunchtime shift) in the playground. Ellen and Martha surprisingly delighted to see me - I find the way my children look at/to me as a parent as they get older increasingly scary/overwhelming/moving/motivating (delete all, any or none of the above according to mood).
Before signing off, please forgive some thank you's... To my parents and Kate's mum Jill for looking after the girls at various points and in various places over the last two months, to Janet our au pair for taking it all in her stride and working above & beyond the call of duty (it will be easier when you get back in January, honestly!), to everyone who came round or invited out Kate and/or the girls while I was away, to Adam at Flightcentre for stringing together an impossible looking itinerary with no real notice and sorting a couple of mini-crises en route, to everyone who commented back on the blog via email, Facebook or the blog itself (we're all so 21st century...), to everyone I met and travelled with in all the various places for being without exception totally excellent companions, to Martha and Ellen for being good (so I hear), and last - but really first - to Kate for foolishly suggesting the whole thing in the first place and then being endlessly positive and supportive of seeing it through.
That's it then, here endeth the blog. See you all back in the real world, and meanwhile have a great Christmas/Festive season and a very happy new year.
Thursday, 20 December 2007
Wednesday, 19 December 2007
Day 61
It´s day 61 and finally, absolutely, the last real day of my trip. I´m back in Santiago after flying 1,000 miles over the Andes from Punta Arenas last night.I pop my head outdoors and it´s sweltering, 30C or so by the middle of the day, clear blue skies and a seriously hot summer sun (those in the UK probably didn´t want to hear that...)
After not doing so very much here last week I feel a bit obliged to spread my wings a little further. So after fortifying myself with breakfast at Bonafide, definitely the best coffee shop I´ve found in central Santiago, I head off to Bellavista district and the funicular up to the statue of virgin Mary and a view out over the city. In the afternoon there´s time for some last minute shopping - including for Pisco so I can make the Sours over Christmas - before heading back to Bellavista to meet up with Sarah and Andy for last dinner and the odd drink before I head home and they move on to LA (they are also doing a RTW trip but are only half way round and going the other way). I had meant to get a taxi back to the hotel but it´s so warm out I walk the half hour or so back in shirtsleeves at midnight, in the knowledge this probably won´t be possible back in the UK for a while. Grab Hotel Espana´s free internet to update the blog, then head for bed with just a few hours before taxi due to arrive to take me to the airport and start the 24 hours home. Though I can't quite put my finger on why, I've ended up quite affectionate towards this place.
Tuesday, 18 December 2007
The P Word (Chile)
I haven´t been here long and my lack of Spanish makes it difficult to get under the skin of the place, so I could be wrong, but still I´m struck by the absence of any mention of Pinochet here (favourable or otherwise). There are no statues (one way or the other), no memorials to the disappeared, no exhibitions in the national history museum on the dictatorship. In the bookshops a good few volumes on new, smart, 21st century President Michelle Bachelet, and at the back, maybe gathering a little bit of dust, something on Salvadore Allende, but on Pinochet, just nothing. It´s as if the whole time didn´t exist - that the man wasn´t President for 17 years, commander in chief of the army for 25 years until 1998. I go down to the Moneda Palace, scene of that other 11th September, 1973, and find nothing much. No plaques, no history/geography of the coup, nothing really. In a corner at the back of the palace, across the road from the Ministry of Justice (possibly appropriate) there is a statue of Allende amongst various other Presidents, with some enigmatic words from his final radio address from the Palace as the coup was happening around him - "I have faith in Chile and its destiny", but no mention that the elected President of the Republic either committed suicide or was murdered not more than 100m away. And Pinochet - he doesn´t get a statue (though that seems fairly reasonable in the circumstances).
It´s all a big contrast to South Africa. Maybe it´s true that not so many died here, but thousands did, many just ´disappearing´, and it seems all just forgotten, best glossed over. Chile seems happy to be the western liberal state it now is, and we´re all happy to see it that too, but I wonder how people feel who were caught up in the Pinochet repression because there seems remarkably little public acknowledgement of it now - I guess you´re left to deal with it largely alone. That was my impression anyway.
It´s all a big contrast to South Africa. Maybe it´s true that not so many died here, but thousands did, many just ´disappearing´, and it seems all just forgotten, best glossed over. Chile seems happy to be the western liberal state it now is, and we´re all happy to see it that too, but I wonder how people feel who were caught up in the Pinochet repression because there seems remarkably little public acknowledgement of it now - I guess you´re left to deal with it largely alone. That was my impression anyway.
Ah, Condor
Sunday 16th December.I went to Ecuador in 1996 and in 3 weeks never saw the big bird of the Andes. Here in Chile they seem to be two a penny (see pic) - apart from when we go looking for them of course.
Sunday morning we set off to see the nests close up. Four hours, two steep hills, a few downpours and no condors later, we give up. Over lunch I hopefully suggest maybe walking will be on the level for the final afternoon? Not exactly. For some reason we wind up climbing the second hill again, I have a suspicion we might just be filling out the time a bit until Carlos meets us with the van at 4.30... (surely not!). Still, the weather brightens and with it my mood, some condors fly out to tease us and we walk south as blue skies open up over the mountains behind us. At 4.45 we are at the bridge over the River Paine, meet Carlos as planned, take obligatory end of trek photo (see attached) and that´s it, all over, we´re done.
This is where it ends
Saturday 15th December.
We´ve wound up at a (much better) campsite south of the W, looking back at it across one of the lakes (see pic), a glass or two of Chilean red helping the effect along.
Later, standing by the edge of the lake on my own, it strikes me that this is the moment this journey ends. This is the end of forward progress - though we have a good day´s walking planned for tomorrow, and a couple of other distractions over the next few days - everything now starts to be about gradually getting home. I´m not sad, it all feels complete and right, all much more than I could really have reasonably expected, somehow more than the sum of its parts - though the parts individually distinct and great in their own ways - and for good measure ending with a particularly stunning one. What more can anyone ask? Now - it is time to go home.
We´ve wound up at a (much better) campsite south of the W, looking back at it across one of the lakes (see pic), a glass or two of Chilean red helping the effect along.
Later, standing by the edge of the lake on my own, it strikes me that this is the moment this journey ends. This is the end of forward progress - though we have a good day´s walking planned for tomorrow, and a couple of other distractions over the next few days - everything now starts to be about gradually getting home. I´m not sad, it all feels complete and right, all much more than I could really have reasonably expected, somehow more than the sum of its parts - though the parts individually distinct and great in their own ways - and for good measure ending with a particularly stunning one. What more can anyone ask? Now - it is time to go home.
Homage to Patagonia
December 12th-14th.Day 2 a bit uninspiring - murky and what we should be seeing is behind cloud. Still it doesn´t rain that much and at the end of the day we seem to meet a stream of people walking the other way who have been lashed by cold and wet for hours on end and not seen anything.
Next day is suddenly and without warning clear and bright - maybe not all the postcards have needed Photoshop after all. We walk up the French Valley, which the previous day people had abandoned as pointless. This is the middle bit of the "W", and a bit of a set piece on days like this. Paine Grande, the highest mountain, though still a bit pathetic by Himalayan standards at 3,000m, is in good avalanche form - every 10 mins or so there´s a thunderous crack and another huge pile of powder comes crashing down the slopes.
At the look out we reach for lunch we get one of the most stunning 360 degree views I´ve seen, as the last of the few clouds disappear leaving a perfect deep blue sky - mountains of various sorts on 3 sides and a view down onto the huge lake at the bottom. Patagonia is far more tarty with its charms than discreet Bhutan - the mountains and lakes are unsubtle, brash, drop-dead gorgeous and constantly changing their look around every corner to hold your attention and demand your approval (and it works).
We spend the evening slumped in the comfy chairs in the bar at Paine Grande refugio, sipping probably a couple too many (but is there such a thing?) Pisco Sours. Helpfully the bar has been situated with big picture windows out onto a postcard-perfect view, and being this far south at midsummer, the sunset goes on all evening.
Next day we walk up the side of Lake Grey (left hand side of the W), which has a huge glacier at the other end. Not as huge as it was though - it´s retreated 2km in 10 years - you can see the bare rock at the sides where the vegetation hasn´t got going yet. Down to earth with a bump tonight - camping, and not the best of sites, grotty showers and guys building a new office for glacier trekking until midnight. Also a distinct lack of Pisco Sours, with which we might have forgiven (or forgotten) the other stuff.
Wow Moment (2)
Tuesday 11th December.
Another 2 hour drive north to the Torres del Paine National Park. We are trekking the "W" for the next four days - as it´s a roughly W-shaped walk, starting with the right hand side bit. Then we´ve a couple of add-on days at the end doing some extra stuff.
It´s blowing a gale and raining on and off - so not too bad then, says Eduardo, at least you can see the mountains in front of us. After three hours we get to first night refugio and reserve ourselves the best beds (floor level - upper bunks to be avoided where possible). Then it´s an hour through the forest and another hour up over boulders. The towers, four unlikely shaped (due to being new apparently) spires have been in front of us for a while, but it´s only when you climb up over the last boulder that the jaw-dropping bit happens, as it turns out we´ve only been seeing the top of them and suddenly they are there, huge, falling away into a vast valley with a green lake at the bottom.
We hang around a bit too long taking too many photos, and by the time we leave the rain is chasing us down the hillside. Spend the evening with the first wine box I´ve had possibly since I was a student, watching the wind and rain lash the refugio (which it goes on to do all night) and the campers enjoying their authentic Patagonian experience of putting tents up in it.
Another 2 hour drive north to the Torres del Paine National Park. We are trekking the "W" for the next four days - as it´s a roughly W-shaped walk, starting with the right hand side bit. Then we´ve a couple of add-on days at the end doing some extra stuff.
It´s blowing a gale and raining on and off - so not too bad then, says Eduardo, at least you can see the mountains in front of us. After three hours we get to first night refugio and reserve ourselves the best beds (floor level - upper bunks to be avoided where possible). Then it´s an hour through the forest and another hour up over boulders. The towers, four unlikely shaped (due to being new apparently) spires have been in front of us for a while, but it´s only when you climb up over the last boulder that the jaw-dropping bit happens, as it turns out we´ve only been seeing the top of them and suddenly they are there, huge, falling away into a vast valley with a green lake at the bottom.
We hang around a bit too long taking too many photos, and by the time we leave the rain is chasing us down the hillside. Spend the evening with the first wine box I´ve had possibly since I was a student, watching the wind and rain lash the refugio (which it goes on to do all night) and the campers enjoying their authentic Patagonian experience of putting tents up in it.
Punta Arenas - the end of the world (almost)
Monday 10th December.
Lots of places seem to vie for the dubious honour of being at the bottom of South America. To be fair there is still a slither of Chile and a chunk of Argentina to the south, but Punta Arenas does a good job of looking the part. You come in to land on a bleak, flat, treeless wasteland of scrub punctuated by lakes and ocean inlets, and from the ground it looks pretty much the same. Temperature is more like 10C in place of 25C in Santiago. Off the plane I meet the immediately likeable Sarah and Andy (it´s a select group of 3 plus guide Eduardo for the next week) and we drive for 2 hours north without seeing so much as a small hill - maybe I´m on the wrong trip?
Reach base at Puerto Natales and dinner overlooking lake and the mountains beyond that have now happily appeared - and as it stays light until 11pm this time of year this far south, we get to enjoy them throughout.
Key things to know about Patagonia - (1) it´s windy, (2) when it´s not windy it´s very windy. This is summer. Why am I here exactly? Not for the first time, I look at my kit and wonder if I´ve brought the right stuff. Also not for the first time, it´s a bit late to be wondering (though I do manage to get a hat with a strap before we head off into the wilds - this turns out to be an inspired purchase).
Lots of places seem to vie for the dubious honour of being at the bottom of South America. To be fair there is still a slither of Chile and a chunk of Argentina to the south, but Punta Arenas does a good job of looking the part. You come in to land on a bleak, flat, treeless wasteland of scrub punctuated by lakes and ocean inlets, and from the ground it looks pretty much the same. Temperature is more like 10C in place of 25C in Santiago. Off the plane I meet the immediately likeable Sarah and Andy (it´s a select group of 3 plus guide Eduardo for the next week) and we drive for 2 hours north without seeing so much as a small hill - maybe I´m on the wrong trip?
Reach base at Puerto Natales and dinner overlooking lake and the mountains beyond that have now happily appeared - and as it stays light until 11pm this time of year this far south, we get to enjoy them throughout.
Key things to know about Patagonia - (1) it´s windy, (2) when it´s not windy it´s very windy. This is summer. Why am I here exactly? Not for the first time, I look at my kit and wonder if I´ve brought the right stuff. Also not for the first time, it´s a bit late to be wondering (though I do manage to get a hat with a strap before we head off into the wilds - this turns out to be an inspired purchase).
Saturday, 8 December 2007
Santiago
So this city is probably never going to make Top 10 capitals of the world, but there are worse places to find yourself unexpectedly for 4 days.
In the end things resolved themselves more smoothly than could reasonably have been expected. I phoned the Hotel Espana in Santiago, where I am already staying the last two nights of the trip, from Auckland, and happily they had a room free for the next 4 nights. They also fixed a taxi from the airport, and the rescheduled flight ran on time. This also gives me somewhere to leave a big bag of luggage while I am down in Patagonia. I am still feeling philosophical, and surprisingly unrobbed, about Bolivia - it will give me the excuse to go properly, and with Kate, some time.
Meanwhile after 7 weeks on the road, to be in one place for 4 nights in a row for the first time, and without any pressure to do anything much, is a luxury. So I am reading and writing idly and enjoying the minor triumphs of securing coffees and and meals with my very basic Spanish (phrase book bought in NZ now looks a sensible precaution). Jetlag has caught up with me for the first time - I can´t sleep at night but would happily snooze all morning. We are 16 hours behind NZ so maybe not surprising - plus point is Chile is only 3 hours behind UK, so if I can crack it, shouldn´t be a problem when I get home.
Santiago city centre is nothing special, but I quite like the "realness" of it - no tourists and no allowances made by the locals. Apart from when I open my mouth, I can blend in with comfortable anonymity. Christmas preps are now in full swing, which is odd when its 25C outside and clear blue skies and light till 9pm, but there´s a huge Christmas tree in the square next to the main cathedral and Santas in all the department stores.
For the first time I find myself REALLY missing Kate and the girls hard. It´s been there as low level background throughout but now I suddenly want to just be with them and do normal home-like things. That said I am under no illusions about Hollywood-style joyful reunions with my daughters (Kate I have slightly higher hopes of). I had already imagined Ellen - who doesn´t really do "missing people" and dispatched me in October with "I can´t see" (the TV) - coming out of school the day I get back simply with "Daddy, can we do spinning?" Spinning is a bedtime thing - a complex set of jumps off and onto our bed I oversee and which is one of my (few) favourable points of differentiation in their eyes (Kate won´t do it). Kate confirms this has already been raised by them both with some nervousness that I may have forgotten how to...
On Monday I fly south to Punta Arenas, almost at the tip of South America, for the final full week of the trip, trekking in Patagonia. Not expecting too many internet cafes down there, so probably radio silence from me for the next little while.
In the end things resolved themselves more smoothly than could reasonably have been expected. I phoned the Hotel Espana in Santiago, where I am already staying the last two nights of the trip, from Auckland, and happily they had a room free for the next 4 nights. They also fixed a taxi from the airport, and the rescheduled flight ran on time. This also gives me somewhere to leave a big bag of luggage while I am down in Patagonia. I am still feeling philosophical, and surprisingly unrobbed, about Bolivia - it will give me the excuse to go properly, and with Kate, some time.
Meanwhile after 7 weeks on the road, to be in one place for 4 nights in a row for the first time, and without any pressure to do anything much, is a luxury. So I am reading and writing idly and enjoying the minor triumphs of securing coffees and and meals with my very basic Spanish (phrase book bought in NZ now looks a sensible precaution). Jetlag has caught up with me for the first time - I can´t sleep at night but would happily snooze all morning. We are 16 hours behind NZ so maybe not surprising - plus point is Chile is only 3 hours behind UK, so if I can crack it, shouldn´t be a problem when I get home.
Santiago city centre is nothing special, but I quite like the "realness" of it - no tourists and no allowances made by the locals. Apart from when I open my mouth, I can blend in with comfortable anonymity. Christmas preps are now in full swing, which is odd when its 25C outside and clear blue skies and light till 9pm, but there´s a huge Christmas tree in the square next to the main cathedral and Santas in all the department stores.
For the first time I find myself REALLY missing Kate and the girls hard. It´s been there as low level background throughout but now I suddenly want to just be with them and do normal home-like things. That said I am under no illusions about Hollywood-style joyful reunions with my daughters (Kate I have slightly higher hopes of). I had already imagined Ellen - who doesn´t really do "missing people" and dispatched me in October with "I can´t see" (the TV) - coming out of school the day I get back simply with "Daddy, can we do spinning?" Spinning is a bedtime thing - a complex set of jumps off and onto our bed I oversee and which is one of my (few) favourable points of differentiation in their eyes (Kate won´t do it). Kate confirms this has already been raised by them both with some nervousness that I may have forgotten how to...
On Monday I fly south to Punta Arenas, almost at the tip of South America, for the final full week of the trip, trekking in Patagonia. Not expecting too many internet cafes down there, so probably radio silence from me for the next little while.
Tuesday, 4 December 2007
This is a low
Auckland airport - Wednesday morning 11am NZ time. Should be in Santiago...
Sooner or later I guess there had to be glitch.
I get a call from Qantas late Monday to say my Tuesday afternoon flight from Auckland to Santiago, which is a codeshare with LAN, has been delayed 10 hours. Not great, but I can still make La Paz connection at the other end, just an inconvenience. So being smart I (a) book myself into a cheap hotel to get some sleep instead of mooching around the airport, and (b) call them back Tuesday afternoon just in case - yes, flight is still confirmed as delayed 10 hours, please get to airport at 1am. Which I do - to find flight went on time 7 hours previously. Of course the place is deserted but eventually pin down unsuspecting Air NZ employee who finds me a phone and I get to speak with Qantas in Brisbane. Apparently LAN hadn't told them it was going on time after all. I am now booked on the flight 24 hours later to Santiago (I think - the worrying word 'standby' was used when I turned up this morning) but this means I've missed La Paz and can't now do the Bolivia part of the trip. Oh well, just have to be philosophical about these things. I make it a promise to go there with Kate some day - and for longer than 4 days. So if all goes OK from here, I shall have 4 quiet chill out days in Santiago instead, which may be no bad thing either. We shall see - all bets feel like they're a little off right now.
Sooner or later I guess there had to be glitch.
I get a call from Qantas late Monday to say my Tuesday afternoon flight from Auckland to Santiago, which is a codeshare with LAN, has been delayed 10 hours. Not great, but I can still make La Paz connection at the other end, just an inconvenience. So being smart I (a) book myself into a cheap hotel to get some sleep instead of mooching around the airport, and (b) call them back Tuesday afternoon just in case - yes, flight is still confirmed as delayed 10 hours, please get to airport at 1am. Which I do - to find flight went on time 7 hours previously. Of course the place is deserted but eventually pin down unsuspecting Air NZ employee who finds me a phone and I get to speak with Qantas in Brisbane. Apparently LAN hadn't told them it was going on time after all. I am now booked on the flight 24 hours later to Santiago (I think - the worrying word 'standby' was used when I turned up this morning) but this means I've missed La Paz and can't now do the Bolivia part of the trip. Oh well, just have to be philosophical about these things. I make it a promise to go there with Kate some day - and for longer than 4 days. So if all goes OK from here, I shall have 4 quiet chill out days in Santiago instead, which may be no bad thing either. We shall see - all bets feel like they're a little off right now.
Monday, 3 December 2007
The Big B
Bungy that is - from Auckland Harbour Bridge. I know I said I wouldn't (see very first post) but once you're here you kind of get caught up in the idea that it's something you maybe should do once in your life. And it's only about 40 metres straight down to the water from the bungy pod suspended just under the central span...
This is how it goes. You head up from the southern end along the gangways under the bridge, harnessed up, much like the Sydney bridge climb. When you get to the middle it's a climb up ladders to the pod with half a dozen other people also looking vaguely green. Leaps are in order of weight - porkiest first - happily some recent kg loss took me out of pole position. You get clipped on at both your waist (that's how they haul you up after) and your feet (bungy rope attached to a big weight at your feet). Then shuffle along a ledge from the pod, put the heavy thing over the edge, smile for the camera (I didn't do that very well) then the crew helpfully count down, give you a gentle encouraging nudge and then OHHHHHMYYYYYYYGODDDDDDD!!!!. The speed down is amazing, then you get bounced up and down over the water as the bungy rope tightens and slackens, until you pull a release cord at which point you sit in the harness and they pull you up. Simple!
Final thought - it probably is something I only need to do once in my life.
North Island
So North Island is pretty much like South Island, except:
* More people
* More cars
* More geysers (hot spring sort)
* More big cities (1 vs 0)
* More junked up roadside strip-sprawl
* Fewer one lane bridges (I kind of miss them)
* Fewer snow capped peaks (i.e. none)
* More people
* More cars
* More geysers (hot spring sort)
* More big cities (1 vs 0)
* More junked up roadside strip-sprawl
* Fewer one lane bridges (I kind of miss them)
* Fewer snow capped peaks (i.e. none)
* But about the same number of sheep (i.e. lots)
Overall, memorable in NZ has been:
* The big B of course - see next post
* Flat white and sauvignon blanc
* Only having to make two (approx.) road junction decisions a day
* Southern Alps - fab mountain backdrop on South Island, esp. in this weather
* Queenstown, Glenorchy, Napier (art deco that lived up to the hype), Wellington, Auckland (another great harbour city - see pic taken from the Bridge)
* Being on my own with my thoughts and everything being easy
Faintly disappointing:
* Geothermal stuff - bit overly touristified - Iceland better I thought
* Rotorua (avoid!) and Christchurch (nothing wrong with it, just thought it would be nicer)
Overall, memorable in NZ has been:
* The big B of course - see next post
* Flat white and sauvignon blanc
* Only having to make two (approx.) road junction decisions a day
* Southern Alps - fab mountain backdrop on South Island, esp. in this weather
* Queenstown, Glenorchy, Napier (art deco that lived up to the hype), Wellington, Auckland (another great harbour city - see pic taken from the Bridge)
* Being on my own with my thoughts and everything being easy
Faintly disappointing:
* Geothermal stuff - bit overly touristified - Iceland better I thought
* Rotorua (avoid!) and Christchurch (nothing wrong with it, just thought it would be nicer)
* Interislander ferry. If you've been on a cross channel ferry you've got the picture - only it takes twice as long
* Being on my own with my thoughts and everything being easy (it sort of cuts both ways)
* Being on my own with my thoughts and everything being easy (it sort of cuts both ways)
Friday, 30 November 2007
Cloudy Bay
500 miles north and 2 days later I'm at the northern end of the South Island to find myself on the hallowed ground that is Cloudy Bay vineyard. The very vines and grapes that go into (arguably) the ultimate NZ Sauvignon Blanc are there in front of me, and it's tempting to get down and kiss the earth in awe (obviously I don't as this would look a little over-obsessive).Of course, in reality it looks much like any other vineyard - rows of anonymous looking plants surrounding an opulent tasting hall that tells you where some of that premium price goes... Still, like most new world wineries, they're chatty, friendly and happy to hand out as many samples as you think the drink driving laws will take. Also the SB is about 40% of the price it is in the UK - it seems criminal to leave without stocking up on a case or two, but this is no time to undo the good work I've been doing the last 6 weeks in reducing my inevitably overpacked luggage.
The road to Glenorchy
November 28th.
It seems like all the people in Queenstown - 'adventure capital of New Zealand', and friendly relaxed vibey place - are either 20 years younger than me or 20 years older. I guess the 40-somethings are all either at work and/or looking after children (shouldn't you be doing that too, I hear some of you say).
I head off with no particular expectations along the lakeside road, it's not mentioned in the guidebook, but every corner turns out to have another impossibly perfect view. Glenorchy itself is of course tiny but doesn't stop it having three cafes. The one I pick again does a reliably mean flat white and some great brunches to have out back in the garden in the sun looking at the clear blue skies and the mountains. Ho hum, November Wednesdays are always such a drag...
Wednesday, 28 November 2007
NZzzzzzz
This place is so relaxed that my life has slowed to levels only a little above where cryogenics kick in. No complaints about that, mind. The sun keeps shining despite the 5 metres of rainfall I hear they get a year on the west coast (producing some truly beautiful ancient rainforest which I've explored a little of - not too much activity though you understand....). The air is crystal clear (promised in Bhutan but really true here) and driving on the deserted roads there's just the minor stress of who has priority on the one lane bridges to deal with, plus great views served up on a regular basis. Then there's the surprising (and welcome) capacity of a place the size of England with 1m people in it to consistently turn up great coffee shops just when you're starting to think it would be nice to chill for a while with a 'flat white' (sort of latte/macchiato cross, though they have both of those as well). It's also reassuring to see that someone breaking the woman's sheepshearing world record made second item on the TV news yesterday. (In case you're wondering, 650 sheep were sheared in the allotted 12 hours).No wonder the New Zealanders feel obliged to spice things up with a bit of extreme sports now and then (such as attached - no not me).
Glacier town dilemma
I don't know about you, but I always find this a tough one. You drive for miles with no glaciers and then all of a sudden two come along at once (well 25km apart). Which one to stay at for the night? Fox Glacier (yes, the town is called that as well as the ice formation) is a little further down the coast but can't match Franz Josef Glacier (ditto) for wacko name, also my guide book suggests you can get up close and personal with the ice at FJ but not Fox. It turns out to be the other way round, plus Fox looks the nicer town, plus it's close to Lake Matheson where once in a blue moon you get great views of Mount Tasman and Mount Cook on 'still and clear' early mornings. The large numbers of people coming back to the car park with oversize cameras and tripods tell me however I'm already too late to see the view (or the blue moon) by 7.30am as it's already clouded over.
It's not all one-sided though - Fox Glacier hasn't got a groovy bus-as-internet-cafe.
Note - in case you don't think the glacier looks very impressive, look at the size of the people in the pic.
Christchurch
So I've travelled right round the world... to end up in a little bit of England. Punting on the Avon, statues of Queen Victoria, nowhere to park, and a little light teenage yobbery of a Saturday evening. It all helps make you feel right at home.
Friday, 23 November 2007
Aussie Election Fever
Probably not much on the radar back in the UK or elsewhere, but tomorrow (Saturday) is Election Day in Oz. It's fairly momentous as John Howard (Liberal - but Conservative in Brit equivalent) is going for a 5th successive win - he's already been PM here longer than either Thatcher or Blair. Up against him - and ahead in the polls all year - is Labor's Kevin Rudd, a John Major look- and sound-alike (though slightly better taste in glasses), who is going for the be-more-conservative-than-the-conservatives approach (sound familiar at all?).
Just to ratchet up the excitement - (a) the polls today show a narrowing of the Labor lead and Oz has form in last minute surprises, and (b) Bruce and Jo live in the Prime Minister's own constituency, which itself is marginal and he might lose. Voting is also compulsory here. Bruce is, happily for me, an election buff too, and if I'd known, I'd have got my Saturday morning flight to Christchurch delayed 24 hours so I could join him for an evening of beers and election drama tomorrow night. However, the good news is he has promised to mail me a DVD of the results show...
Just to ratchet up the excitement - (a) the polls today show a narrowing of the Labor lead and Oz has form in last minute surprises, and (b) Bruce and Jo live in the Prime Minister's own constituency, which itself is marginal and he might lose. Voting is also compulsory here. Bruce is, happily for me, an election buff too, and if I'd known, I'd have got my Saturday morning flight to Christchurch delayed 24 hours so I could join him for an evening of beers and election drama tomorrow night. However, the good news is he has promised to mail me a DVD of the results show...
Thursday, 22 November 2007
Blue Mountains/No Mountains
I've hired a car for 2 days and headed off into the Blue Mountains west of Sydney. The idea is to do some 'bush walking' on some of the trails. I'm just getting my bearings and get one or two good photies of the mountains in the hot sunshine (see attached) when a huge storm whips up out of nowhere and rolls around the hills for the next six hours. After about three, the electricity cuts out in the hotel - for 2 hours. Not a huge problem - I have a torch and planned to head out for dinner in the very cutesy village of Leura where I am staying. However poking a nose outside I see the electricity is out across the village. No matter, drive to next town. Electricity out there too. Drive 20k west... still out. Drive 40k the other way before street and traffic lights are finally on again. Assemble sort of dinner from various outlets and head back. That said - pizza, red wine and Aussie election coverage on TV = happy Martin.
This morning I got up to find the village completely fog-bound so had to have 2 capuccinos a pastry and a newspaper waiting for it to clear (the sacrifice). It did clear - in the village. Trails still foggy - and no mountains to be seen of any colour, just a wall of grey at the lookouts. In some ways I preferred it - cooler for walking, fewer tourists and the insects had disappeared. Maybe I would have felt differently if I hadn't seen the views briefly yesterday. I got 3-4 hours walking but then the rain arrived and that was that.
This morning I got up to find the village completely fog-bound so had to have 2 capuccinos a pastry and a newspaper waiting for it to clear (the sacrifice). It did clear - in the village. Trails still foggy - and no mountains to be seen of any colour, just a wall of grey at the lookouts. In some ways I preferred it - cooler for walking, fewer tourists and the insects had disappeared. Maybe I would have felt differently if I hadn't seen the views briefly yesterday. I got 3-4 hours walking but then the rain arrived and that was that.
Bridge Climb
Only the Aussies (well, perhaps Kiwis too) could have a gigantic bridge in their harbour and think not only 'I would like to climb that', but also think they could get about 2 million other people to do it too and pay for the privilege.However, Bruce and Jo assure me that Bridge Climb is a must-do Sydney experience, but as I get close up to it and see it at full size, with the wind getting up...
So the deal is this. You get put into a very attractive all-in-one jump suit along with about a dozen other people, get some quick training on walking up and down the ladders, put on some radios so you can hear the group leader through the wind, then walk down the street looking like you've come to put out a nuclear reactor fire until you get to the start of the bridge. You get clipped to a clever device that keeps you hooked to a steel line all the way round, then off you go - first through the underside of the bridge structure, then you climb several sets of ladders that has you appearing through the middle of the freeway, then you get onto the top arch and climb up to the middle where the flags are. Then you cross over from one side the other (with the Freeway about 200 feet below) and walk down the other side. It takes about 3 hours in all. The views are amazing (they needed to be...) Daniel, our wholesome all-Australian guide, helpfully mentions at the top that the height of the bridge is the same as the London Eye (about 500ft) - with the obvious difference that you're outside. If you look very carefully at the photo of the bridge attached, you might be able to make out some dots on the top arch - that's the Bridge Climb (you may need to double click on the photo to enlarge it).
By the way, Bruce and Jo are right. It's awesome.
Sydney
G'day!
The Kathmandu-Calcutta-Singapore-Sydney triple hop was happily uneventful, the only downer being no internet availability in Calcutta Airport so a very boring 6 hours there. 24 hours after leaving the Shanker Hotel in Kathmandu I touched down at Sydney just five minutes late.
I'm staying here with good friends Bruce and Jo Colman and their two young sons Dylan and Lewis. Bruce worked with Kate in Oxford in the 90's and I met them in the first few weeks that Kate and I were seeing each other. They immediately announced they were going back to Australia...
The Kathmandu-Calcutta-Singapore-Sydney triple hop was happily uneventful, the only downer being no internet availability in Calcutta Airport so a very boring 6 hours there. 24 hours after leaving the Shanker Hotel in Kathmandu I touched down at Sydney just five minutes late.
I'm staying here with good friends Bruce and Jo Colman and their two young sons Dylan and Lewis. Bruce worked with Kate in Oxford in the 90's and I met them in the first few weeks that Kate and I were seeing each other. They immediately announced they were going back to Australia...
It was a welcome sight to see Bruce waiting at arrivals and weird to be on smooth roads as we drive out to their house. We snatch a view of the Opera House as we swing round in front of the harbour and then turn to drive over the massive Harbour Bridge.
We stay up chatting late but I am keen to be up and out and see the city on Monday. Needless to say that goes by the board, I sleep till midday then spend till 3pm doing the blog update I would have done in Calcutta. But then head into town, and it's... great. There's something momentous about harbour cities and Sydney does it really well.
We stay up chatting late but I am keen to be up and out and see the city on Monday. Needless to say that goes by the board, I sleep till midday then spend till 3pm doing the blog update I would have done in Calcutta. But then head into town, and it's... great. There's something momentous about harbour cities and Sydney does it really well.
Monday, 19 November 2007
And then there were three
November 15-17.
Our group disbands, a bit sadly, in dribs and drabs. Ron, my tent-mate on trek (thanks for putting up with that, Ron) leaves us in Paro to head eastwards back to Wisconsin, Chris(tine) leaves us Thursday morning for Winchester, and late Thursday afternoon Sue from Twickenham and the three Scottish lassies also depart Kathmandu. Which leaves three of us staying till Saturday.
Hannah and Nicky have decided to join me on a day trek on Friday into the Kathmandu Valley, which turns out well because (a) they're good company, and (b) it dilutes the faintly dislikable guide. We head up to a high point at Nagarkot, and walk 4 hours mainly downhill in a big arc. Above the pollution haze over Kathmandu the views of the Himalayas are awesome, the day is pin-sharp and the mountains much closer than in Bhutan. We end the day in Baktapur, well-preserved medieval town (maybe what Kathmandu was once more like?) though also inevitably lots of tourists.
(Almost) as memorable is real Italian pizza and great cappuccino (though any rough approximation probably would be after a month) at 'Fire & Ice' in Kathmandu. This knocks off two trivial cravings - others being:
- Brushing teeth under a tap
- Wine (Aussie red and NZ white would do just nicely)
- Sandwich - preferably from Pret
- Any meal without rice in it
Saturday midday we leave Kathmandu. The plane is late and by the time it leaves the sun is starting to set, suddenly washing the still-clear mountains in variously pink, orange, red. Before heading to Calcutta the plane does a lap of honour over the city - as the sun goes down the colour moves up the mountains to their tips until they are all just silent grey, then we head south and they are gone.
A month out, South Asia has been amazing, full-on, sensory overload, beyond any expectations I could reasonably have had. Not coming back sometime isn't an option.
Kathmandu - mad metropolis
I suppose, if you try very hard, you can just about imagine Kathmandu as a small, quiet, faintly medieval, quite religious, mountain trading centre. It isn't any more.
Playing as much to tourists as locals, the narrow streets seethe with small (and some large western) shops, traders, motorbikes, trucks and cars, horns much to the fore as elsewhere in Asia, the effect of the exhaust fumes emphasised by the thinner air (albeit we're only at about 5,000 feet here). I had thought Indian driving was an experience, but really they're amateurs compared with the brinkmanship here. Not one for the cycling trip I think.
At first I thought it was all a bit forgettable but after 3 days I'm warming to the place. One to come back to?
Thursday, 15 November 2007
The P Word (Bhutan)
In Bhutan - Politics.
The country has been a kingdom for 100 years since the 'first king' was elected from among the various rulers of bits of the country, and ruled in an absolute though apparently benevolent way since then (it's difficult to decipher exactly) - the 'fourth king' who came to the throne in the 1970's famously made it his objective to increase 'gross national happiness' rather than gross national product - although he is being helped in that aim by getting Indian migrant workers to do lots of the rough jobs.
We caught Bhutan in the middle of what is clearly huge change - domestic TV only arrived in 2000, and until last year all men and women were required to wear national dress ('gho' - a sort of tartan robe and kilt with knee length socks for men, and 'kira' - full length straight dress, same tartan for women) between 6am and 6pm. There are also first elections due on new year's eve, and it's all being taken very seriously, with mock elections being held so people can get the hang of it, and articles in the state-run newspapers headed 'Politicians - Good People' - can't imagine that running in The Sun somehow... The historic central role of religion (Buddhism), its philosophy and rituals, is also coming under pressure - embedded traditionally both in the power structures (the king only rules the secular side - there is a Chief Abbot who has equal sway over the religious) and the fact that there are so many monks (who effectively report up through the religious side). For older people (meaning anyone over 30) it's still obviously part of the fabric of life (see photos) but for the young it's equally obviously not.
There are already more tourists, and will be more still - the Druk Air monopoly surely can't last forever, and you can't help thinking that overall it will end up being more like everywhere else at the end of all this. On the other hand do people really want to live in a sort of medieval rural theme park forever? It's a truism to say there will be pluses and minuses, but from what I saw, I would say (a) it's probably unstoppable, and (b) it will mean one less bit of diversity in our homogenising world.
The country has been a kingdom for 100 years since the 'first king' was elected from among the various rulers of bits of the country, and ruled in an absolute though apparently benevolent way since then (it's difficult to decipher exactly) - the 'fourth king' who came to the throne in the 1970's famously made it his objective to increase 'gross national happiness' rather than gross national product - although he is being helped in that aim by getting Indian migrant workers to do lots of the rough jobs.
We caught Bhutan in the middle of what is clearly huge change - domestic TV only arrived in 2000, and until last year all men and women were required to wear national dress ('gho' - a sort of tartan robe and kilt with knee length socks for men, and 'kira' - full length straight dress, same tartan for women) between 6am and 6pm. There are also first elections due on new year's eve, and it's all being taken very seriously, with mock elections being held so people can get the hang of it, and articles in the state-run newspapers headed 'Politicians - Good People' - can't imagine that running in The Sun somehow... The historic central role of religion (Buddhism), its philosophy and rituals, is also coming under pressure - embedded traditionally both in the power structures (the king only rules the secular side - there is a Chief Abbot who has equal sway over the religious) and the fact that there are so many monks (who effectively report up through the religious side). For older people (meaning anyone over 30) it's still obviously part of the fabric of life (see photos) but for the young it's equally obviously not.
There are already more tourists, and will be more still - the Druk Air monopoly surely can't last forever, and you can't help thinking that overall it will end up being more like everywhere else at the end of all this. On the other hand do people really want to live in a sort of medieval rural theme park forever? It's a truism to say there will be pluses and minuses, but from what I saw, I would say (a) it's probably unstoppable, and (b) it will mean one less bit of diversity in our homogenising world.
Dzonged Out
The hotel in Thimpu after 5 days on the road could have been pretty crumby and still semed like heaven provided the showers worked, but it was good by any standard, and an indescribably welcoming sight. Thimpu (pop. 95,000 - but that's double what it was 2 years ago) is a reasonably happening sort of town, and was able to meet several members of the group's need for bow and arrow purchases (archery is national sport).
A couple of welcome recovery days follow and we drive east in a minibus to see various other dzongs - Punakha, Wangdi, Jeli, were there others? They all follow the similar model of fortress, temple and monastery, and although highly striking, beautiful and other-worldly, it's good not to have signed up for that two-week comprehensive evaluation of every dzong in the country. It's also just good to let the world go by for a couple of days and gently absorb this very odd but very appealing country.
A couple of welcome recovery days follow and we drive east in a minibus to see various other dzongs - Punakha, Wangdi, Jeli, were there others? They all follow the similar model of fortress, temple and monastery, and although highly striking, beautiful and other-worldly, it's good not to have signed up for that two-week comprehensive evaluation of every dzong in the country. It's also just good to let the world go by for a couple of days and gently absorb this very odd but very appealing country.
Bhutan Dry Season
It's true that it doesn't rain in the dry season in Bhutan - it snows instead.Trek Day 1 starts gently enough with visit to National Museum, notable above all for its entire floor devoted to the stamp collection. Bhutan seems to have marked every last British royal occasion on its stamps but very few of its own. Guide-in-chief (Chencho) looks slightly cross when we get out as assistant-guide (Kinley) has overrun by an hour, which means we're going to find the ascent ahead tougher. Day 1 is almost all uphill - Paro is at 7,000 feet, the museum 8,000 and we end the day camping at over 11,000. We're supported by 18 mules, 7 cooks/horsemen and 2 guides, which seems a bit excessive for 9 of us, but there is nothing at all between Paro and Thimpu (the capital about 50-60km away, to which we are walking) - apart from mountains obviously.
The snow at night is accompanied by cobalt-blue skies during most of the days (at least that's what I remember - the photos don't seem always to show it...) with clouds billowing in seas of white below us as much as above at this height. We get great views of the eastern Himalayas behind the Bhutan 'hills', though we're still talking 5,000m for most of those. The route is very definitely up and down, with no one on it (we met one trekking couple in 5 days) and overall personally (as a complete novice) a great challenge - one that would however have been improved no end however by ending up at a nice pub with good beer and food and a warm bed each day. Oh well. Highest point was 4,210m (about 14,000 feet) on the second last day, which was marked by walking into a snowstorm down from it to our campsite just above Thimpu - questions about whether we we are nearly there yet being met with an enigmatic 'not exactly' from Chencho (i.e. No).
Breathless
Tuesday 6th November.
As a warm up for the main event that starts tomorrow, we take on a walk up to the Taktsang - the Tiger's Nest - a fortress-come-monastery that justifies the word 'clings' to the rockface. So named because its founder arrived in the area about 500 years ago via a flying tigress - as you do.
It's about 3 hours and a reasonably steep incline, but we're all way more out of breath than we expect, due to altitude. Back to Paro and a look around their Dzong (Buddhist monastery-fortress) above the town, which is stunning in its level of decoration and in the level of cold that the monks there must have to endure. In a country of 700,000 about 1 in 4 males is a monk, and they start at around age 6 (so not exactly a personal career choice). But it is beautiful above a covered bridge over the river that runs past the town. 5 days trek and 4 nights camping starts tomorrow - never done it before, let alone at 12-14,000 feet. Wonder if I've got the right equipment...? Everyone else seems to have several changes of trekking poles and a complete North Face store with them. A bit late to wonder maybe?
As a warm up for the main event that starts tomorrow, we take on a walk up to the Taktsang - the Tiger's Nest - a fortress-come-monastery that justifies the word 'clings' to the rockface. So named because its founder arrived in the area about 500 years ago via a flying tigress - as you do.
It's about 3 hours and a reasonably steep incline, but we're all way more out of breath than we expect, due to altitude. Back to Paro and a look around their Dzong (Buddhist monastery-fortress) above the town, which is stunning in its level of decoration and in the level of cold that the monks there must have to endure. In a country of 700,000 about 1 in 4 males is a monk, and they start at around age 6 (so not exactly a personal career choice). But it is beautiful above a covered bridge over the river that runs past the town. 5 days trek and 4 nights camping starts tomorrow - never done it before, let alone at 12-14,000 feet. Wonder if I've got the right equipment...? Everyone else seems to have several changes of trekking poles and a complete North Face store with them. A bit late to wonder maybe?
A Wow Moment
Monday 5th November.Druk Air (Bhutan's state airline) is a strange beast. Created only 20 years ago, it has a handy monopoly over all flights into Bhutan's one airport at Paro (second 'city' of Bhutan - pop. about 50,000). The planes are all shiny new Airbuses and the service is immaculate, but there appear to be no Bhutanese, or Nepalese, or indeed anyone Asian at all on the flight from Kathmandu. So Druk Air is in fact an entirely tourist-focused operation, but to be fair it does it very well (apart from the very odd cream cheese sandwiches served as refreshments).
And although the flight is the shortest of the16 I'm taking on this trip (45 mins), I'd place bets it's going to turn out the most memorable. It's cloudy and hazy in Kathmandu, with the surrounding hills barely visible, and we're just entertaining ourselves with a further 15 minute adjustment to watches, when suddenly out of nowhere we're through the clouds, into the clearest of blue skies and the Himalayas are sitting there right alongside us (as the Captain mentions we're at 22,000 feet...). A stunning moment and Everest appears shortly afterwards, familiar from all the photos you've seen of it (see my addition to the set).
Paro airport is according to the guidebooks the most difficult airport to land at in the world (as well to know this before the captain makes a lurching dive to the left to get down into the valley...), but it's also probably the most attractive, built to look like the other highly decorative buildings of Bhutan.
Immediate impressions:
- Neat and ordered and quiet (major contrast to trip so far)
- Alpine (like Slovenia in particular?)
- More prosperous - buildings are solid and although it's largely rural and clearly not rich, the country doesn't seem poor either
- Chinese/Tibetan influenced - in looks, language, religion and food, although clearly it's India with whom the major links exist (lots of migrant workers, currency fixed to the rupee 1:1, same cars and trucks etc.)
Please adjust your watches by 15 minutes
Sunday 4th November.
What exactly is the point of Nepal's separate time zone? It's a small country and has a perfectly good time zone directly to the south (India), but it decides it needs to be another 15 minutes further forward. Unsurprisingly it seems to be on its own on this one. So here we are - Kathmandu, GMT + 5.75.
Go to hotel for 12 hour layover before flight to Bhutan tomorrow, and meet the group - 7 women plus me. To be fair (a) they are all very nice, and (b) there's an American guy joining us in Bhutan tomorrow to even things up a little bit. Happily no one seems to be a trek pro - and everyone's been reading between the lines in the itinerary wondering whether it might be a bit more than a stroll in the park.
What exactly is the point of Nepal's separate time zone? It's a small country and has a perfectly good time zone directly to the south (India), but it decides it needs to be another 15 minutes further forward. Unsurprisingly it seems to be on its own on this one. So here we are - Kathmandu, GMT + 5.75.
Go to hotel for 12 hour layover before flight to Bhutan tomorrow, and meet the group - 7 women plus me. To be fair (a) they are all very nice, and (b) there's an American guy joining us in Bhutan tomorrow to even things up a little bit. Happily no one seems to be a trek pro - and everyone's been reading between the lines in the itinerary wondering whether it might be a bit more than a stroll in the park.
Sunday, 4 November 2007
In Kolkata Airport
Somewhat unfeasibly, I seem to be in Kokata at 8.30 in the morning. I have over 5 hours until my connection to Kathmandu (airport wait) so internet cafe was a welcome sight (see nice photo, albeit slightly bleary, of me at could-be-anywhere-in-the-world computer screen, but is in fact here in Kolkata as I type...). The airport is surprisingly calm and pleasant - just as well as I have even longer here in 2 weeks' time en route to Sydney. The time and good connectivity mean you've also finally got photos too.
Even by the standards of wake up calls over the last 2 weeks, this morning's was early (3.15). Seeing Delhi's streets clear of traffic was an odd sight - getting in yesterday evening was a 2 hour marathon through the city, but it's worth it when my flight all runs totally smoothly and on time - against expectations from various horror stories of endemic delays. Even the breakfast on board was excellent. I had an option on a later flight from Delhi which would have meant only a 2 hour wait here, but it would have been too nerve shredding, as I must be in Kathmandu tonight - or I don't get on the plane to Bhutan tomorrow morning, and a 9-day trip is in the can. All I need now is for Indian Airlines to run the Kolkata-Kathmandu flight... sometime today...
Probably radio silence for the next 10 days or so - not expecting too many internet cafes in Bhutan, particularly at the various yak herders' camps...
Even by the standards of wake up calls over the last 2 weeks, this morning's was early (3.15). Seeing Delhi's streets clear of traffic was an odd sight - getting in yesterday evening was a 2 hour marathon through the city, but it's worth it when my flight all runs totally smoothly and on time - against expectations from various horror stories of endemic delays. Even the breakfast on board was excellent. I had an option on a later flight from Delhi which would have meant only a 2 hour wait here, but it would have been too nerve shredding, as I must be in Kathmandu tonight - or I don't get on the plane to Bhutan tomorrow morning, and a 9-day trip is in the can. All I need now is for Indian Airlines to run the Kolkata-Kathmandu flight... sometime today...
Probably radio silence for the next 10 days or so - not expecting too many internet cafes in Bhutan, particularly at the various yak herders' camps...
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