George & Bec's adventures

Degustation, boats and beaches

2011-05-24T17:36:00.000+09:30

The rest of our Sunday passed by in a blur of dodgy fish and chips, ice cream, feeling unhealthy and getting another early night.

Monday morning dawned grey, raining and miserable, and as a result we were both feeling very unmotivated to get out and do stuff. After a lot of sitting around hoping the weather would clear, we finally gave up and headed out for a walk up to the second highest point of the island, which promised a spectacular view. The climb was challenging, and we got absolutely drenched by the time we got to the top, but was generally quite invigorating. Unfortunately, the 'view' was practically non-existent due to the rain and fog.

When we got back to the hotel, we had lunch downstairs, during which time the sun finally showed its face. By the time we'd showered and read on the balcony for a while, the skies had completely cleared to reveal a beautiful day. George went down to the beach for the free windsurfing lesson, which unfortunately was cancelled because the water was too calm. Meanwhile, I went to the day spa and got a pregnancy massage, which was awesome (although I'm not sure what exactly distinguished it from a regular massage, other than the belly-sized indentation in the table).

Once we'd both read in the sun for a while, we decided to go up to One Tree Hill, where island staff set up a temporary bar with cocktails every evening to watch the sun set. We got the shuttle bus up there and George had a cocktail. The sunset was spectacular, as promised, and we braved the walk down the steep hill back to our hotel to get ready for dinner.

I won't go into too much detail about the degustation at the Hamilton Island Yacht Club, but suffice it to say that it was the best deg we've ever had and we left feeling very satisfied with the evening.

Today we went on our snorkelling/beach tour, which began on a giant catamaran. We couldn't have chosen a better day - the sky was clear, the sun was shining and the sea was calm. We were taken first to a reef off one of the islands to do some snorkelling, and after some teething issues (I don't care what anyone says, breathing with your face in the water is simply not natural), we were underway.

After my only previous snorkelling experience many years ago, I was quite disappointed - apparently the majority of the reef has been bleached, so there was none of the vivid colours and wildlife that I remembered. This, combined with my mask continually letting in water and fogging up, made the whole expedition quite unsatisfying for me.

After this we had lunch (salad wraps for me, while everyone else scarfed down cold meats and prawns) and headed to our next destination. Whitehaven Beach is Australia's most beautiful beach, and the third best in the world, and it's easy to see why. At least two, possibly three kilometres of pure white sand and vivid blue/green waters, completely undeveloped. We had two hours to wander up and down, lie in the sun or swim in the water before we re-boarded the boat for the trip back to the island.

After a full but enjoyable day, we're planning a quiet dinner at the Steakhouse and another early night. Tomorrow we're going across to Dent Island for lunch and a free tour of the golf club.

Chillin' in the Whitsundays

2011-05-22T11:05:00.000+09:30

Today is our second day on Hamilton Island and so far we haven't exactly set the world on fire. We arrived just after 1pm yesterday and discovered the first of many bonuses of staying on the island - free shuttle bus to our resort. After getting settled in our very large room with balcony overlooking the bay, we headed out to find some lunch and do a bit of exploring.

There's a free bus that does a loop of the main area, but we spurned this in favour of walking - and quickly discovered why there's a bus - the hills here are very steep and the bus is well worth the wait! We started out at Catseye Beach and discovered that all snorkelling gear, kayaks, windsurfers and catamarans (including lessons in how to use them) are free for resort dwellers. Bonus, except that watersports aren't really my thing at the best of times, let alone with a bun in the oven.

We then found a cafe and had a quick lunch, accompanied by a few locals - enormous sulphur crested cockatoos and little parrot/rosella type things that perched on neighbouring tables to watch us eat.

After this we had a bit of a walk around the main area and had a drink at the yacht club, a beautiful open air bar overlooking the water. The entire club is shaped like a giant boat and is quite spectacular to look at. We've booked in for dinner in the swanky restaurant for Monday night - the degustation looks awesome.

After a rest in our room, we went out for dinner at a pizza place which, while not exactly rocking the pizza industry, did break records for speedy service - we sat down at 7pm and were out by 7.30. After a 4.30am start that morning, we were more than happy to go back to the hotel for an early night.

We got up early this morning and went out for a cheap breakfast before going to the general store to buy cereal and yoghurt - we're already over eating out for every meal and want to save a bit of money too. After that George went to the gym (also free) while I did 20 lengths of the enormous pool downstairs. We're now contemplating getting on the island's free bus, which goes all the way around the island, and see what else there is to do, plus we'll book a snorkelling day tour for Tuesday.

Overall, Hamilton Island is great, although it's a bit like welcome to the future for us - everywhere you look there are families with babies and young kids. While this is kind of freaky, it's also comforting to know that holidays with small children are accessible, practically if not financially.

Finally, I apologise for any typos or Americanised spellings - I'm writing this on my iPhone and auto correct is rife.

And cue the sun

2010-10-18T10:38:00.000+10:30

It's our second full day at Yondah and as with any god holiday I am only just clearing away the cobwebs of sleep at 10:30am after almost 12 hours of sleep. I was crow-barred out of bed by Bec and Jedi both champing to go for a walk; when I finally did muster the fortitude to rise, the sun ducked behind a cloud and sideways sleeting rain took its place. But now, thirty minutes later, the sun has reappeared and a walk beckons.

I imagine today might now be a carbon copy of yesterday, now that it looks like we'll be blessed with sun for most of the day. Yesterday we spent our time either chasing or hiding from the sun - it was bizarre weather, with a cool breeze that was easily defeated by a blazing-hot sun, but the breeze alone was cold. Even the sun became too strong at times, so we moved between decks as needed. At one stage when a balance couldn't be struck, I gave up on the outside world and retired inside with a Pale to watch The A Team, which was ridiculous but fun.

I did get semi-active once during the day, taking my dodgy ankles and toes down the evil goat track to Yondah's private beach with Jedi. He of course had no issue racing down the insane decline and I could see him hunting for a stick while I was still only half way down to him. The water was ice cold but it didn't stop Jedi racing in there to retrieve his stick - although it didn't take him long to work out that the tide would do half his work for him. The cold, salty water somehow also helped relieve the pain in my feet so we ended up staying until the tide began threatening my bag of valuable electronics (of course I had to take the video camera to record Jedi's frolics; I would include one here but as an appalling video recorder it's both too long and of inadequate quality to justify placing here).

The sun is now beckoning me outside so I shall wind up.

Yondah II - The Return to Paradise

2010-10-17T09:32:00.001+10:30

His two cents:

I've been waiting for this pretty much since we last locked the doors of this gorgeous place behind us. Bec had purchased the return trip as a Christmas present in 2009 (probably as much to shut me up about it as to secure a good time to visit, given how heavily booked this place is becoming), and I'd been counting down the days since.

If you've got no idea what I'm talking about, Yondah is a self-contained holiday home on the far south coast of South Australia's Yorke Peninsula. I say 'home' advisedly, as to call it a shack would be like calling Bill Gates 'kinda well off'. This place has, to use the cliche, all the mod-cons - reverse cycle a/c, fully equipped kitchen, three bedrooms, a super comfortable lounge room with stupendous views over rocky outcrops that separate lush farmland from Investigator Strait.

Most importantly, it's pet friendly, meaning Jedi gets a week of jovial, bounding freedom followed by nights on his bed in air conditioned comfort. (Sadly for the cats, as poor travelers, it means a week isolated in the Adelaide house, with kindly visits from our good friend and neighbour Rachacia.).

As always, getting here was NOT half the fun. In fact, the getting here contributed almost no real joy to the holiday. In actual fact (what does that mean anyway?), it was a bit of a debacle. We ran far behind our intended departure time as I'd overslept and spent more time catching up on work I should have done in the week prior than preparing, and was still very much in my usual state of morning filth when Bec got home from a very early visit to Buzz (her horse). I pulled my act together, but we still managed to leave almost two hours later than intended. We also had to stop at the chemist (my fault) and bottleshop (my fault) and to get fuel and check the tyres (the car's fault) meaning it was about two when we were finally under full steam. Determined to defeat the night we drove through the 2.5-3 hour journey.

Apart from our usual entertainment at Jedi's joy at seeing farm animals along the way (he reserves a set of special faces for these moments - cleverly referred to as 'cow face', 'sheep face' or 'horse face' depending on the livestock in question) the journey was uneventful. We had the usual consternation over directions, largely because I only saw signs as we passed them, meaning we took the usual, less direct path to get here, but one which maximises the use of sealed roads.

Despite one ill-advised traverse via a dodgy dirt road we made it here in one piece and promptly unloaded our grossly excessive inventory. We took our exploding dog for a walk along the ridge above the beach, where he tried to convince us, despite chilling winds and descending sun, that it was a good time to go down to our private beach. We weren't tempted by the notion of struggling back up the goat track that leads down to our little beach enclave in the dark and instead headed back to a spot of reading, a pumpkin and bacon pasta and a quiet night in front of the TV.

Today is off to a very slow start - for me at least. I slept from about 10 till well after 8 (when Bec set off the fire alarm with steam from the shower) and have managed a measly 15 minutes of exercise. Bec on the other hand has been for a run with Jedi, which entertained him no end no doubt as he would have ran 3km for each of hers.

The day now beckons a great deal of not much; we haven't seen the sun yet, but that allows for a quiet day of reading, eating and sleeping. I can live with that.

Home again

2010-02-20T10:27:00.004+10:30

It is with much relief that we make our final report from the comfort of our own home, with our own bed, own shower and tap water that is not only sanitary, but drinkable even. Not that we haven't enjoyed the holiday, but coming home is always the best part of the holiday!

Nothing much to report from yesterday really - Changi airport is like Disneyland, with no shortage of things to do. After a terrible breakfast/lunch of microwaved quiche and beef pie, we signed up for the free Singapore tour, which was quite underwhelming. The two hour tour (which ended up being one hour and ten minutes, plus 45 minutes stuffing around in the airport before leaving) took us on a 'cultural' tour of the city in which we only got off the bus once to look in a Chinese Buddhist temple. The rest of the tour was simply driving around the city, which was admittedly quite beautiful, but severely lacking in culture (the tour that is, not the city). Nevertheless, it did get us out of the airport for a short time.

We had the option of taking a free shuttle bus back into the city after the tour, which we did consider doing so we could actually see a few things, but unfortunately the tour bus had to take us all the way back to the airport and then we'd have to go back in. Considering George had been nodding off in the bus as it was, we decided against this option.

We dribbled away the rest of the day wandering around the airport, looking at duty free options, buying alcohol, considered buying a camera but ended up not doing it, ate quite good ramen noodles for dinner, lay around in the hotel room, then checked out and waited for our flight.

The flight was uncomfortable but tolerable and we're very glad to be home and with our animals again. Some final reflections on the India experience - as with any country, there was plenty of good and plenty of bad. Some of the positive things:

The Indian head waggle. This endearing gesture, done mostly by men, seems to mean anything from 'yes, that's OK' to 'I like you' or 'you're funny' or pretty much anything positive.
India is definitely a country on the move - you can feel it, more so than any other Asian country we've been to. While there's still plenty of poverty, there's also a shitload of prosperity, innovation and development going on.
The food is completely awesome - even better than we expected, and it seemed that the cheaper it was, the better and more authentic. We both have an even greater appreciation for vegetarian food, given how much of it we ate. It seems there are infinite ways to prepare vegetables and they are generally far better than meat. Also, the seafood on the coast, particularly in Goa, was mind-blowingly good. I will dream of that Tandoori pomfret on Palolem beach for many years to come.
The way traffic just works despite the appearance of utter chaos. I certainly wouldn't brave it, but you have to admire the fact that when millions of people are trying to get somewhere at the same time, horns are literally used out of consideration and there is absolutely no aggro whatsoever.
Most people seem happy and easy-going. As above, no one gets angry...despite the frenetic activity, everyone moves at a steady pace.
Goa. Loved it.

The not so good:

India is still a very patriarchal society, and travelling there as a woman is not as simple as it is for a man. Everywhere we went the men would address George and pretty much ignore me altogether. He was served food and drinks first, doors were opened for him, the works. It wasn't intentional, but it was hard to get used to. The only place I was treated as an equal was at the Taj Malabar, where I'm sure the staff are rigorously trained on how westerners expect to be treated.
Following the above point, Indian men are not shy about openly staring at western women. Everywhere we went I had men staring right at me, even waiters in restaurants while we were eating.
The gap between poverty and prosperity is stark, and I think it's only getting wider. The middle and upper classes are flashy in their wealth. We saw one particularly nauseating billboard in Bangalore advertising a new apartment complex with the slogan: 'It's not how you live that matters, it's where you live'. Ugh.
The persistence of tour operators, auto rickshaw drivers, taxi drivers, etc, of taking you to shops that you've said countless times that you're not interested in. We got so worn down by it that we literally bought no products or souvenirs other than the attars (sorry everyone) because we wanted no part of it. And going on the Thailand/Vietnam/Cambodia example, most of it is cheap crap that was made in China anyway.

Well, that's pretty much it. Not wanting to end on a down note, India was a great place to visit and was nowhere near as full on and scary as we'd expected. If we do go back we'll probably make a beeline for Goa and spend a week or two around there. This holiday has made us come to the realisation that we're no longer intrepid travellers wanting the 'authentic' (read: manufactured tourist trap) experience. We like going to places that are set up to western hygiene expectations - it doesn't have to be anything fancy (in fact our one five star experience was actually pretty ordinary), but just clean, hygienic and with a big supply of bottled water!

Until our next holiday...thanks for reading :)

Killing dead time on the countdown to home

2010-02-19T16:01:00.004+10:30

Stage one

We’re currently waiting in the elaborately-decorated lobby of the Taj Malabar Hotel on the furthermost point of Willingdon Island, one of the three islands – and an artificial one at that – that comprise Cochin. We’re winding down part one of several episodes of waiting that will make up our return journey.

Before I bring you up to date on what we have in front of us, let’s go back 24 hours. We finally got our swim in the so-called infinity pool, so called because of the illusion that the water line of the pool meets the line of the sea.

It was a very hot day, so the cooling swim was welcomed. Tiring from the exertions, we returned to our rooms and changed for lunch. After our (once again average and grossly overpriced) lunch (a ‘Mediterranean’ pizza, which apparently means tinned olives, and that’s pretty much it), we once again adjourned to our room. This one was truly worth spending some time in – a king-sized bed, two bay windows, both looking onto the sea, air conditioning and all the trimmings. We sat around doing nothing of note:

until we decided the time had come to move some blood into our limbs, so we headed to the bar, of course. Still gun-shy of beer I joined Bec in a cocktail – I had an old favourite, a Harvey Wallbanger, and she a Mai Tai. We then concluded the night with the best meal at this hotel, and the cheapest, at the Thai Pavilion. Back in the room I toyed with the idea of watching Armageddon, but sleep took over.

Sleep had me in its clutches for a long time, and we both slept past nine. Instead of rushing to take advantage of the day we both sat around playing Solitaire, like the radical elements we are.

We finally wrested ourselves from the room around 11 and took the ferry to Jew Town, as the name suggests an area of Jewish worship and trade from old times, which is now more a tourist trap.

Tiring of this we took the next ferry to Fort Cochin. We saw a lunch-wallah delivering shitloads of lunch tiffins to workers on the island we were staying on:

At Fort Cochin we walked along the top of the island to find a restaurant highly recommended in the Lonely Planet. We found it after a parching walk, and enjoyed a healthy, hearty vegetarian lunch. With time already against us we rushed back toward the ferry, stopping briefly to look in a bookshop and to snap some photos in a desperate attempt to compensate for our awe-inspiring lameness in not getting to the Fort prior – the architecture is beautiful, there’s plenty of places to stay, eat and drink, and in hindsight we’re kicking ourselves we didn’t stay there. Oh well.

And the requisite funny sign photos – we declined stopping for soft drings:

And if the food is crap, never fear, the Lilly Grace will MAKE you enjoy it.

Anyhow, our combined slowness and delays meant we missed the bloody ferry and with the aid of some extremely confusing advice from the exceptionally unhelpful ferry ticketing staff, I spat the dummy, and stood around in a sulky strop, waiting for the next ferry. I was cranky because our well-laid plan – to have an hour plus to shower, pack and check out – was cut back to 40 minutes. On reflection, it wasn’t really the sinking of the Titanic, but I admit I am prone to slight over-reactions from time to time.

We have since completed the aforementioned plan, with the only contingency being the local tour operator turning up at 3:45pm – to pick us up for an 11:45pm flight! When he drove to the reception area to pick us up, we asked why we were leaving so early; he got on the phone to his boss, told us he was waiting for a call back and has since driven away, leaving us with limited knowledge of what is to happen next. Last we heard he was waiting outside the hotel gates (security is very tight here, being part of the same hotel chain attacked in last year’s terrorist attack), ostensibly still for that call. But we figure he’s going to just wait there until we’re ready – which by my reckoning is another two hours. Bizarre. Oh well, we’re prepared – we have books, water, snacks and the computer, and we’re currently enjoying watching the staff move in a family that arrived with a quantity of luggage that would ground a herd of packhorses. Classic. That’s it for now – if the battery holds out and we’ve got anything to say we might report again from Singapore.

Stage 2

We’re now hanging out in the transit hotel room in Singapore airport. This room may end up costing us almost as much as the Taj Malabar, but right now it seems worth it after a flight that began at midnight last night and got in at 6.30am Singapore time. George snored through most of the flight but I only managed about 20 minutes towards the end, so we were walking zombies by the time we got here.

We crashed out for about three hours or so before a refreshing shower and a decidedly crap breakfast/lunch. We’re now killing a bit of time before we take the free Singapore tour at 3 o’clock. Waiting is never fun, but it’s certainly a lot more bearable with a comfortable bed, private shower and free wi-fi. At some stage before our 11.30pm flight we’ll do the requisite duty free shopping, but right now we’re just resting and feeling thankful that we don’t have to sit out in uncomfortable airport chairs for 18 hours.

Rest and recuperation, river style

2010-02-17T17:35:00.006+10:30

Day 1

We’re somewhere in the Kerala backwaters. You could say we’re wonderfully lost, because we don’t really care where we are and we literally have nothing to do. The two-night houseboat tour commenced around midday after a slightly frightening drive from Cochin to Alleppey and a couple of debacles involving waiting, something we’re not accustomed to given the overall efficiency of our tour operator. While waiting for the boat to arrive we had time to become concerned about the quality of our quarters and the class of our travelling colleagues. Our worries were misplaced as the boat is very comfortable and we have it to ourselves with the exception, bizarrely, of three staff.

We have a host, a driver and a chef, although all three share responsibilities. Soon after leaving we stopped at a small riverside fish market where the chef picked up some pomfret for our lunch. Not long after, when we were back in motion again, we began to smell delicious cooking smells coming from the back of the boat, and we soon stopped at a micro-coconut plantation (where a couple of blokes were gathering sap for fenni, a fiery coconut liqueur) to eat. We have a little dining table on the boat, and this was almost covered in food: three different types of vegetables cooked with fried coconut – cabbage, beetroot and okra – fried okra in a style reminiscent of bhaji and the pomfret lightly fried in turmeric, chilli powder, masala and lemon juice. It was frickin’ awesome, and I said no word of a lie when I told the chef it was better than the food we had at Taj Malabar. He was probably a touch confused, then, when we made a very poor attempt at eating it all – it was a massive serve and I was still not feeling 100%.

Aside from eating we’ve really done nothing but sit and read, and I’m loving it. The scenery is truly beautiful, and the river is very tranquil. The number of houseboats though is quite surprising – it’s certainly not a unique experience any more. We’re now moored for the evening, right outside a tiny riverside duck farm. When we first arrived there were literally hundreds of ducklings trotting around a little shed which seems dedicated to them. I must confess a brief concern that duck was on the menu for dinner tonight…

Speaking of all things wildlife, we have also spotted our first Kingfishers, other than the beer and airline of the same name. They’re a magnificent-looking bird, with the shape of a small kookaburra and the colours of a rosella, but with very different markings and blue as their dominant colour.

We’re currently just sitting on the boat as the sun – once again huge – sets over coconut palms and awaiting the night to commence.

The boat staff are having a pow-wow with their colleagues from other boats, but the smell of cooking is coming from other boats, so no doubt our chef will be back soon to bring on his next food opus.

Day 2

Our second day on the houseboat was much like our first – we both devoured our books, gazed at the scenery, played cards and ate a veritable shitload of awesome Keralan food. If we come back weighing a few kilos more than when we left, it will probably be due to these couple of days.

The previous night we ate channa dal, chicken curry and fried chicken drumsticks with an enormous bowl of chapattis to scoop it all up with. Once again it was delicious. Once night fell the bugs descended, which was not so great, along with a whole heap of geckos. We started watching a movie on the laptop, but soon gave up and went to our bedroom, only to discover an absolutely enormous bug that looked like a cockroach but was actually a flying beetle of some sort. It was so big that when it flew across the room and landed on the opposite wall it made loud skittering noises. We were not amused, and not much sleep was had that night.

The following morning we awoke to find that there was no hot water, so we had very quick and unsatisfying cold showers before emerging to a beautiful morning and steaming cups of masala chai. But it didn’t end there – to our delight, we were served up an egg curry for breakfast, accompanied by rice noodles and more chai. It was magnificent.

Breakfast out of the way, we settled down to some serious reading. George read an entire book in one day while I polished off the second half of my 600 page book. In between snatches of reading George drove the boat for a while:

The backwaters are lined with beautiful colourful buildings and a surprising number of Christian churches considering the area is predominantly Hindu. Probably stinking missionaries, but at least the buildings are nice.

The deck of the houseboat was very clean and with comfortable chairs to lounge on while watching the world go by. These houseboats are a huge trade in the area – there was almost always at least one within sight, of varying sizes and quality:

The pace of life here is very slow and everything is based around the water – everywhere you go people are fishing, washing their clothes or their hair, or ferrying people back and forth across the channels:

It’s a very tranquil and peaceful place to be. If we’d been any more relaxed we’d be comatose:

Our crew were a jolly bunch, always singing and laughing together:

We had another awesome lunch of fried river fish with various bowls of delicious vegetables and rice. And then all too soon the sun was setting once again and we were served up our dinner – a Chinese-style chicken curry, fried rice and more fried chicken drumsticks.

We slept far better last night (no giant bugs in the room) and the cold shower this morning wasn’t even too bad. This morning was possibly even more beautiful than yesterday, and was highlighted by a huge flock of ducks being herded up the river past our boat:

It was quite an amazing sight to see so many ducks all moving as one – it was literally like a river of ducks.

After a very simple omelette and toast for breakfast, the boat started off once again and after around an hour we reached the end of our trip and farewelled our crew to head back here to the Taj Malabar.

It’s just after midday, so we’ll probably stay here this afternoon and finally get in a swim in the awesome infinity pool (and hopefully get some photos of it to share) and generally lounge around. We fly out tomorrow night at 11.45pm, so during the day we’ll finally go over to Fort Cochin to check that out and hopefully avoid at least one, if not two, expensive meals here.

No doubt we’ll report again tomorrow, if not it’ll be from Singapore where we’ll be stuck for 18 hours.

Best laid plans

2010-02-15T00:41:00.004+10:30

Today did not exactly go according to plan. Rather than beginning the day at 7.30 with a revitalising yoga class, we began the day at 2am with George doing a giant yak. And things didn't get much better from there. No sooner had we congratulated ourselves on (almost) getting through India unscathed, George came down with a massive bout of gastro.

Neither of us got a whole lot of sleep, and poor George spent the entire day in the hotel room between bed and the bathroom. I didn't get a whole lot done either, other than reading somewhere between 200-300 pages of various books. I spent the first half of the day in the hotel room being sympathetic before I started going mad and had to get out, so I went outside and sat beside the water and polished off one of my books.

After this I went to one of the restaurants and had a masala dosa for lunch before returning to the hotel room for more sympathy and fell asleep on the divan looking out over the harbour. Around 5 I gently and respectfully coaxed George out of bed and we went and sat near the pool and I had a beer while he had a 7Up and one quarter of a dry piece of toast. We then moved inside to the bar where I had another beer and George sipped on a bottle of water. By the time we were done with that we were well and truly over it so we're now back in the hotel room trying to stay awake until a reasonable hour before we can go to bed.

So not a particularly successful first Valentine's Day as a married couple...

George seems to be on the mend now, although not 100% after eating nothing today and barely keeping down any liquids. Hopefully he should be back to normal tomorrow, since we'll be picked up by the travel dudes at 10 to take us to Alleppey to board our houseboat for the next two nights. It's safe to say that there will be no wi-fi on the boat, so there will be no more entries until the 17th when we return here for our final night in India - and as much as I hate to say it, we're quite looking forward to that! But, we don't want to rush through the last days of our holiday, and I'm sure we'll have a good time. Hopefully on our last day here we'll actually get the chance to get to Fort Cochin and see more than the compound of this very nice but very expensive hotel.

The $25 gin and tonic

2010-02-14T04:10:00.005+10:30

Yes, we paid $25 for a gin and tonic. Times two, in fact. And that’s only the beginning to the mega expense that is part of staying at the Taj Malabar.

But first, our final night in Bangalore which, as promised, involved a bar/pub crawl followed by a great big dinner in true Indian style.

We started by going out at around 3 for a late lunch at a tapas place, but once again became completely confused by the outright wrong directions on the map the hotel gave us. By the time we finally found the place, we were hot, thirsty and grumpy, but after a lime and soda, some fairly average tapas and a large bottle of Kingfisher, we were in far better spirits and set out to sample as many of Bangalore’s bars as we could.

First we went to a place called ‘Scottish Pub’, which, surprisingly, sold nothing but jugs of Kingfisher and carafes of no-name ‘claret’.

We had two jugs of beer here before walking on to a place called Koshy’s, which is renowned with travellers – so renowned, in fact, that it was completely full, so we continued on down the bustling Church Street to a crazy bar called Nasa. This place is completely decked out like a spaceship, complete with blue lights, circular doorways and cocktails named after space clichés. The bizarreness of the experience was accentuated by a table of Indian businessmen entertaining Japanese investors, amidst the doof doof and riff raff.

Somewhat overwhelmed by the environment I (George) ‘accidentally’ ordered an entire pitcher of beer to myself:

while Bec, slightly more sensibly, got a cocktail called a Comet – a gin-based number with orange juice and rose syrup. That was tasty. Unsurprisingly I was a tad untidy after pantloads of beer, and with Bec’s support I stumbled down Church Street in search of the ideal eating spot. We settled on Oh! Amritsar, one of several restaurants in a mid-rise building on Church. We started with dodgy local cocktail (mine tasted like toilet, and Bec’s was saltier than an anchovy) and moved onto entrees – mine was a chicken leg stuffed with lamb, and Bec had prawns of some type. The main was gargantuan:

Paneer and spinach dumplings stuffed with mushrooms in a mega-rich tomato-based gravy. Yum. But it was too much, and we stumbled out to argue with an auto-rickshaw driver, who not only gave us the desired price but also let me – highly inadvisably – drive the last few hundred metres. We made it, somehow.

This morning was a hectic rush, but we made it to the airport and, after another uneventful flight, we were met by our tour operators in Kerala. We were driven one and a half hours in great comfort to our super-luxe hotel on Willingdon Island in Cochin, the Taj Malabar. Handing over to Bec now...

This place is absolutely amazing – after putting our bags through their very thorough security system, we were guided to our room, which looks out on the harbour below:

We had a brief rest before going down for lunch in one of the hotel’s four restaurants. The food was about on par with Australian prices, which was a bit of a shock after eating $1-$10 meals for the last couple of weeks, but we decided to not worry about money too much since this is one of our last stops, and it is our honeymoon after all.

We also explored around the grounds, which are literally right on the seafront:

There are some free things here, however. At 5pm we went on the hotel’s complimentary sunset boat cruise around the harbour, which was quite cool. They made us wear dicky lifejackets:

There were heaps of dolphins in the harbour, even closer than those we saw in Goa. We also saw the Chinese cantilevered fishing nets off Fort Cochin:

And returned to the hotel just in time for a great sunset (the photo unfortunately does not do it justice) and a gin and tonic.

And this was where we learned a little more about how expensive it is to stay in such a hotel. Our G&Ts finished, we were shocked when we received a bill for 2000 rupees (around $50). We questioned the bill only to be told that we had been charged a 90% value added tax because it was imported liquor. We were still not satisfied with this explanation, until after several enquiries we discovered that this is a law throughout Kerala, and that somehow we had managed to order double shots rather than singles. A very expensive mistake, but it still smarts a little.

We then had a somewhat cheaper local version of a G&T inside before going to the ‘Rice Boat’ for dinner. Here we had an over-priced bottle of Indian viognier and a couple of very tasty curries – a prawn malabari (with scampi) and fish Alleppey (ground coconut and green mango).

After this we returned to the haven of our hotel room only to discover that our room had been entered while we were gone and we were left some petit fours desserts plus an elephant made out of towels:

We still haven’t dissembled the elephant because he’s so cute.

Internet here is crazy expensive (of course) – around $4 for 30 minutes, so we’re typing up our blog on the computer and then cutting and pasting online as quickly as we can.

Our plan for tomorrow is to begin with a free yoga class on the front lawns, and then go over to Fort Cochin to look around and get at least one cheap meal while we’re here, and then have dinner on the terrace overlooking the sea (there’s an all you can eat seafood buffet every night) especially for Valentine’s Day…awwww.

Gardens, temples and numerous photos with Indian dudes

2010-02-12T19:44:00.003+10:30

Today got off to quite a late start (breakfast here is from 7-11, which of course means that we went down at 10.30) with a tasty breakfast at the cottages we're staying at, before the European owner organised an auto-rickshaw to take us around the sites of Bangalore. There are three or four drivers who they trust who charge people 100 rupees per hour (or around $3.50) to take tourists around and wait for them at each place, and our driver proved to be a jolly fellow who only took us to the places we asked and without the usual bamboozling to which we have grown accustomed.

Today happens to be Mahashivatri, one of the most auspicious days of the year, and everyone dresses in their best and goes to visit temples where they may wait in line for up to two hours to go into the temple. There were also many weddings happening all over the city, and it was kind of cool to see everyone happy and celebrating and wearing their most colourful saris.

We started with a visit to Lalbagh Botanic Gardens, which is 240 acres of gardens, complete with lakes, topiaries and big bloody trees:

It was quite a tranquil place amid the noise, chaos and pollution of Bangalore and quite a nice place to stroll around. It even had specific bins for spitting into so as not to spread disease and filth:

Once again we were subjected to many requests from young Indian dudes to be in their photos, so this time we asked them to reciprocate and take a photo of us with them! Note the guy on the left side staring at my rack (something I am kind of getting used to, although not exactly enjoying):

After this our driver took us to the Nandi temple, another giant statue of a black bull. This time we went inside the temple, and it was an interesting experience to watch the devotees touching the statue and then touching their heads, as well as dipping their fingers in powders and oils and smearing it on their hair. While neither of us are remotely religious, we agreed that it is very cool that Hindus show such reverence for animals.

Once we had emerged from the temple we took a stroll around the complex, which included some nice gardens, a lookout and a couple of other temples, along with numerous barefoot Indians drinking chai and eating tasty-looking food.

The driver then took us to Tipu Sultan's Palace, the residence of a Muslim ruler from a bloody long time ago. The entire thing was made of wood, and while not large compared with some of the other palaces we've seen, it was quite grand with enormous pillars and balconies from which the Sultan used to address his minions.

We then went to see Bangalore Palace, and luckily for us our driver advised against actually going in, since it cost something ridiculous like 500 rupees to enter. They do not look kindly on people taking photos of the outside without going in, so the driver drove us as close as we could get without having to pay and we took a couple of photos. The place was modeled on Windsor Castle in England, complete with ivy growing up the walls, and looked somewhat ridiculous standing in the centre of India. Hence we have not bothered including a photo here.

After the requisite 'do you want to stop at a shop to buy pashminas/jewellery' question, which we declined about 15 times before he got the idea, the driver delivered us back to our cottages, where we are having a brief rest before heading out to get some lunch. We're starting to get into the mode of having late meals, since we've discovered that a 7 o'clock dinner is ridiculously early here.

Overall we've had a far better time in Bangalore which, while very polluted, seems a lot better organised and modern than Mysore was. And it's really no surprise since this city was virtually the birthplace of web mail as we know it, the inventor of Hotmail having grown up here. There are numerous bars and restaurants to choose from just within walking distance of where we're staying - the only difficult thing is deciding which to go to!

We head off early tomorrow morning (we're getting picked up at 8 for an 11 o'clock flight, that's how crazy the morning traffic is) to be taken to the airport to fly to Cochin (actually Kochi, but we've long given up on using the correct names of cities since the residents still call them by the English names).

We'll be staying at the Taj Malabar, which we've been told is the best hotel in India, even better than the Taj Mahal Palace in Mumbai (and half the price). The hotel is a luxury resort on an island just off the mainland. It's the most expensive place we'll be staying, but we decided we should live it up a bit for our last stay.

We'll be there for two nights and will then go on a houseboat around the Kerala backwaters for another two nights before returning to the Taj Malabar for our final night in India.

Back to civilization

2010-02-12T03:12:00.003+10:30

Oh well, drunk again.

Today has been quite unproductive, with the exception that we made it from Mysore to Bangalore. We really did SFA this morning; we slept in, had breakfast and packed - and took 8:30am until 1:30pm to achieve that much. The only thing of note for the morning was the aforementioned band playing school back to class.

The train trip was genuinely uneventful too. Despite what we'd heard, first class really was quite good. We got fed, the seats were spacious and comfortable and it didn't stink. The only downside was being ripped off by porters taking our bags to the train for a ludicrous 100 rupees. We have since determined to carry our own bags, which has already confused the crap out of a few people.

Our latest accommodation is comfortable and well located near the heart of the city. We got dropped here by our tour company, who got lost on the way, and had a beer while waiting for our check in to be finalised. Ironically, the only beer available was Foster's - and it actually wasn't too bad.

Soon after settling in we realised we hadn't eaten anything substantial since breakfast and got ourselves lost on the way to the main eating and drinking centre. After a few dangerous road crossings we found our way to Mahatma Gandhi Road, and made our way to one of the tallest buildings on the street, reputed for its city-view bars. We got ourselves a bit confused, having first got into a lift that only went up two floors, but were aided by local generosity and eventually found our way to the 13th floor, where we chose the nearest available bar. It was virtually empty, so we only had a few beers and enjoyed the city view with the setting sun.

On our way to this place we'd seen another bar that had yet to open (most locals don't eat dinner until after 8pm), and we decided to have a look on our way to dinner. But as you can see, it was pretty appealing, so we ended up staying:

We had an awesome entree of risotto balls with blue cheese, which were sufficiently small to remain bite-sized and munchable. They were seriously good.

Our mains matched, and were really, really tasty. I had a chicken dish called 'Ballantine' and Bec had a Burmese curry which really rocked. We ate far too much and drank similarly - we had beers, G&Ts and rums, and we ended up spending close to Au$100. But it was worth it.

After an auto-rickshaw ride that, expectedly, got us lost, we're now crashing out, and are looking forward to a lazy day of a few sites tomorrow followed by a bit of a Bangalore bar crawl.

Signing off.

Brief observation

2010-02-11T14:56:00.002+10:30

Our hotel room in Mysore overlooks a school parade ground. We were just relaxing after breakfast (before a leisurely 2:15 departure by train to Bangalore) when an explosion of drums and wind instruments erupted from outside our third-floor window. Thinking it was some kind of major parade or other cultural activity I rushed to the window to see a small band playing to call students back to class. All the students merged into single file for each class and walked into their tiny rooms in time to the music. The band was made up entirely of students as well; as the last of the students entered their classrooms, the music hit a crescendo and the band, in seconds, packed away their instruments and rushed to class as well.

It was a bit more interesting than the mono-tonal 5-chime bell I was accustomed to...

A better day

2010-02-10T19:39:00.005+10:30

Thankfully today has got off to a much better start than yesterday. We began the day with a fairly decent breakfast in the hotel and then decided to take the slightly lame option of getting the travel agent we've been dealing with to organise a car to take us around Mysore's sights. It was a little more expensive than an auto-rickshaw, but a lot more comfortable, which is exactly what we needed!

We started with the drive up Chamundi Hill, 1062 metres high, to visit the Sri Chamundeswari Temple.

We didn't end up going inside due to the usual confusion of where to pay to get in, the concept of leaving our shoes 20 metres away from the entrance which is traversed by cows, monkeys and hundreds of people, and our general disinterest in religious monuments in general. We wandered around the perimeter for a while before heading back to the car.

On the way back down the hill we stopped at the statue of 'Nandi', Shiva's bull, which is carved out of rock.

We also stopped to look at the view of Mysore's city 1000 metres below.

After this the driver used the typical Indian method of bamboozlement and told us he was taking us to the palace, but then we stopped at a non-descript building which he described as the 'Maharani's palace'. We walked in only to discover it was a shop selling fine silk and carpets which, while very nice, we had no interest in buying and had to embarrass ourselves and the owner by walking in and straight out again.

Once we'd escaped the driver actually took us to Mysore's famous Maharaja's Palace.

We weren't allowed to take cameras inside, but the outside complex itself was far more interesting anyway. The inside, while filled with ridiculously decadent items such as solid silver and cut glass dignitaries' chairs, got kind of boring after a while. The grounds outside the palace were full of grand archways and cool tiger statues:

One unusual observation was the fascination touring Indians had with us. We had a group of young Indian lads insist of having their photos taken with us. We insisted we weren't rock stars or anyone remotely important, but we tolerated it for one shot before realising we could have been there for the long haul, and stormed off like spoiled prima donnas.

Once we were done with the Palace, our driver tried again to convince us to go to the sandalwood factory or the silk emporium, but we managed to convince him that we just wanted to see the markets. So he not only took us to the Devaraja Market, but walked us through what turned out to be the highlight of the day. The whole place was a riot of colour, with whole halls selling single products, such as a wall of bananas, or enormous bowls and strings of flowers.

One of the coolest things was the piles of colours that are used for various purposes such as smearing on the forehead:

We ended at a stall that sold attars, pure essences of flowers and plants. While we hadn't intended to buy anything, the cacophony of smells got the better of us and we ended up buying five different fragrances of Mysore flower, lotus, watermelon, blue moon and night queen. I think we probably ended up paying way more than we needed to because the owner of the stall ushered us inside, brought us cups of masala chai and gave us a bundle of free incense and glass bottles to share out the attars once we get home.

After all this we were pretty much exhausted so we're now back at the hotel and contemplating going out to get some lunch (once again at 3pm). We'll probably just take it easy for the rest of the day and go out to one of the fancier hotels tonight for dinner - and we certainly won't be walking this time after last night's experience!

Addendum - We've just returned from a tasty but rather bizarre eating experience in our hotel - in the mezzanine floor restaurant called 'The Cave' in Hindi. The place was literally devoid of natural light and filled with statues, fake flames and staff in silly Rudyard Kipling safari hats. That aside, the food was pretty good and the few beers we had were up to the task. Going to brave a swim soon.

From heaven to filth pit

2010-02-10T14:13:00.003+10:30

It had to happen. Following an almost-perfect four days of sun, sand, jovial conversation and great food, we've had a crappy day of purgatory that's taken us from the paradise that is Palolem through nearly five hours of car travel, two of plane travel and a lot of wasted time to a filthy wasteland. A 5am start got us to a plane flight by 8:15, followed by a crazy long drive from the Bangalore airport to Mysore, with a pointless and undesirable stop at what our driver told us was a beautiful, relaxing river view but was instead a kickback and lunch break for him only 15 minutes from our destination. I was not amused, especially since we only bought water, which appeared to have been pre-opened and was hence ditched.

Our hotel is adequate, which is good since we've spent a lot of time here. After getting in we went for a quick walk attempting to get our bearings and only finding lunch. We had an aloo gobhi and dahl fry with chapattis, which was really good for only 119 rupees, or about $3. We came back to the hotel room - after getting lost - and caught up on some much-needed sleep. We struggled to get ourselves moving again but we eventually got out and about in search of a decent hotel to have a drink and a safe dinner, again we got lost and found a vegetarian place we'd considered going when we were actually hungry, and decided to just snack there regardless. There was no alcohol, but we had a second mega-cheap dinner, this one only costing 57 rupees.

Given it was ridiculously early we decided to have a drink in our hotel bar, a rock club. It sucked. It was loud, dark and dank and full of smokers. We had one drink and we're back, looking at an early night in order to get all the requisite tourist business done.

This place, so far, really seems to epitomise what we'd expected India to be - filth covers the streets, the sky is coated in a hazy film, and people don't hesitate to urinate openly in the street, as we discovered soon after dinner on an ill-advised way back. And far from the delicate scent of sandalwood that we'd been told of, the whole place smells alternately of sewerage and burning rubber. We've since resolved to get motor rickshaws everywhere to minimise our contact with the ground.

Last day in Goa

2010-02-08T21:08:00.005+10:30

It's just after four o'clock here and we've already packed a lot into the day. The alarm went off at 7 o'clock and we stumbled out of bed and down to the beach to go dolphin sighting in one of the many boats that ply Palolem's shores. We weren't sure how to go about organising it but we'd been told that it took little more than strolling up the beach, and sure enough, after about 20 metres a man approached us to ask. We quickly negotiated a price and got into the boat - a quite old but very solid wooden vessel - with another three tourists they'd already lined up, and then headed out into the sea. We passed a picturesque island complete with soaring rocks:

We exchanged photo favours with the others on the boat:

We got to the other side of the island and I was beginning to wonder where the bloody dolphins were when one of the others on the boat shouted and pointed and there they were - a pod of around 5 or 6 dolphins lazily loping through the water. There were several other boats of tourists in the area, and as soon as a bunch of dolphins were sighted, all the boats would head over towards them, at which point they would reliably disappear. We spent about half an hour out there watching a few different groups of dolphins, but unfortunately missed out on any decent photos, since once we'd get the camera poised they'd be back under again, only to resurface in another spot altogether. Nevertheless, it was a great experience to see them up so close, and I don't think any photo could really have captured that anyway. And all for around $10 Australian.

After the boat driver had asked us all whether we were 'very happy', we headed back to the beach and settled in a beachside cafe for an Indian breakfast of alu paratha (bread stuffed with mashed potato) and potato masala. Sated (and rather full) from this, we took a dip in the ocean. Even at 9.30 in the morning the water was wonderfully warm, yet refreshing.

After showers and a brief rest back at the hotel, we got in a rickshaw (aka a tuk-tuk) to go to Agoda Beach, around 8 kilometres from Palolem. We went to a very cool beachside bar/cafe called the Turtle Lounge on the recommendation of our hotel owner.

There were a heap of comfy lounges looking out towards the sea:

And a resident dog that chose very unusual places to go to sleep:

The path into the bar was lined with plants, palms and coco huts:

We had a strawberry lassi and a lemon mint lassi, which were both great, followed by a few beers and an awesome, fresh Goan fish curry (which ended up being prawns).

After this we got back in our rickshaw (the driver waited for us) and careered down the narrow roads, with amazing views on either side:

Numerous cows wandering down the road wherever they wanted (the only law seems to be: give way to the cows):

George was very impressed with the rickshaw - so much so that he requested a photo with it, named aptly after its driver, Sudeep:

Back at the hotel, we are currently tucking into a bottle of Indian rose, which tastes remarkably like Rockford Alicante Bouchet, and planning to return to the restaurant we ate at a few nights ago, Dropadi, for dinner for some more delectable curries.

Tomorrow we head off at the ungodly hour of 5.30am to drive the hour to Goa airport, fly to Bangalore and meet a driver who will drive us 2-3 hours to Mysore. We're beginning to feel a bit melancholy about leaving here now, but I think it's the right time to leave. The great thing about Goa is that the main reason we came to India for our honeymoon is so we could get it done before we have kids in the assumption that you couldn't possibly bring kids to such a country. But on the contrary, Goa is full of families with young children, and it really is the kind of place you could come for two weeks (or a month, or two months) and just relax and eat and drink and swim in the ocean.

A few memories of the great place we've been staying... The entrance, with the Portuguese architecture typical of Goa:

The balcony we've had many drinks and conversations with the other people staying here:

And the interesting British dude who lives in Amsterdam and is an avid dope smoker (naturally):

That's probably quite enough for one blog, but there was a lot to say about this place and we'll certainly miss it. No doubt this will be our last blog from Goa, and we're hoping that our subsequent places will have internet access as reliable and quick as it has been here...if not, our blogs to follow may not have as many (if any) photos.

A very lazy day

2010-02-08T01:13:00.004+10:30

Last night went very much as predicted: we had a few drinks here before heading out for dinner, where we captured this awesome sunset.

We ate at a thoroughly reputed restaurant on the beach called Dropadi. We shared garlic naan, dahl makhani, chicken hyderabadi (chicken with minced herbs and coconut - I think) and an out-of-character, accidental order of a Chinese style shrimp dish. The latter aside it was all really good.

After dinner we declined an early night, instead settling for cocktails on the beach. Unfortunately we chose poorly, and the Long Island Iced Tea was exceedingly strong and tasted of alcohol rather than tea. With three sheets to the wind I foolishly finished mine, while Bec was far smarter and rejected hers.

More foolishly still, I had more drinks when we got back to the hotel, sitting out on the first floor balcony with the owners Goran and Janet and a few of the guests. Unsurprisingly, I had a shocking hangover this morning and following breakfast I pretty much whiled away the morning watching Australia v West Indies ODI while Bec read.

It was eventually decided that activity might make me feel better so we tackled a late lunch at a great little vegan restaurant on Palolem's main road. Although I felt pretty darn seedy whilst eating, I felt a lot better afterward and we went to the beach for a post-lunch swim. The water was again perfect and we spent ages (by our standards) paddling about, floating, catching waves and generally enjoying the water. We also spent a bit of time on beach beds outside a local bar, and decided to wait there until the sun went down, moving only when the advancing tide made it necessary for staff to move the chairs.

The sunset was once again stunning.

Before the light left us entirely, we took the shortcut back to the hotel:

and settled in for a bit of reading and, eventually, a beer. The first one went down sideways but soon enough we were beginning to feel hungry again. We've since returned from dinner at the place that served the murderous Iced Teas, and fortunately the food was better than the drinks.

I am now completely stuffed and we're settling in for an early night in anticipation of an early morning boat ride to see dolphins. Ciao.

Two more days!

2010-02-06T21:48:00.004+10:30

We've just organised to stay here in Palolem for another two days after our first lovely 24 hours, and we couldn't be happier.

Last night, after discovering from a fellow lodger that the promised 'live show by Eddie Izzard' was in fact just a screening of the man performing live, we decided to sit out on the balcony here for a few drinks before going out for some dinner. But after our awesome fish earlier in the day combined with some very potent cocktails made by the owner, we decided to stay put.

Armed with a bowl of fresh roasted cashews and several G&Ts, we set up a game of Scrabble out on the balcony, interspersed with conversation with some of the others staying here (who all got quite involved in the game too - I thrashed George soundly by the way, and we ended with only one tile, which is not ideal by our standards, but still pretty good).

We started off today very slowly, with a leisurely breakfast in the garden downstairs, before we wandered off to the beach. We walked the entire length of the beach before stopping for a nimbu pani (lime juice and soda with a bit of sugar mixed in) at a beach shack. The view was awesome and it was a nice place to rest up before heading back again.

After this we walked back the other way, observing the beautiful people along with the too-small bikini-clad fat chicks and shrivelled old men with beer bellies. We passed a group playing cricket on the beach, inventing the rules as they went (a ball hit right into one of the beachside restaurants incited a lively argument as to whether it counted as a '6 and out').

At the opposite end we stopped for watermelon and strawberry lassis (respectively) and another rest, then wandered for a while before deciding to have a light lunch at one of the beach shacks. We had a vegetable tandoori platter, which rocked, then finally took the plunge (literally) and went for a swim in the beautifully warm sea - if Australian seas were this warm I would be much more inclined to actually swim.

After lying on sun lounges for about five minutes we were pretty much over it so we came back to the hotel to shower and have a few drinks before heading out for dinner. The most amazing thing about today so far is that it is 5pm and we still haven't had a drink yet!

We're very glad to have another two full days here rather than having to leave tomorrow, plus the very fast (and free) wi-fi is an added bonus for blogging and other organisational stuff. We leave you now for drinks then dinner, but here is one last reminder of how awesome Palolem beach is...

Gourmet on the beach

2010-02-05T23:28:00.006+10:30

Goa - wow. But I'll get to that.

Firstly, it turns out that we not only have wi-fi here too, but it actually works at a normal speed, hence we have added some photos to the previous post if you want to check them out.

The morning was a blow-out of good intentions. Mumbai, whilst awesome, cannot be done in two days and we had planned to get up early to visit Victoria Terminus and Chowpatty Beach. Alas, after a somewhat late (and, for one of us, quite boozy) night, *someone* set the alarm for 7:30am. I think there may have been a subconscious - or not so much - thought process that prioritised sleep over tourism. Anyhoo, we made it out of our fantabulous hotel room with no issue and settled for a more than adequate breakfast in our adjoining bar/cafe.

Our driver was pretty much spot-on time, and we found ourselves in peak hour Mumbai traffic which is an experience in itself. How this works without proverbial cluster f*cks on every corner is beyond me; everyone goes as fast as they can for as long as they can. Pushing for rank is standard, and everyone plays chicken, but eventually someone gives way. All that said we never saw an accident or anything resembling road rage. Adelaide drivers could learn a lot. The drive took us past this amazing feat of road engineering called the Sealink - quite literally an alternative main road built into the sea with a massive suspension bridge, simply to alleviate pressure on existing roads. The tourism operator who joined us for the drive pointed out that the project was only half done - the four lanes were to be expanded to 8. Incredible.

The same operator also insisted, albeit politely, that because we had allowed plenty of time to get to the airport, we should drop in on this amazing department store on the way through. I'm not sure what the kick-back arrangement was, but this place was somewhat frightening. Everything was heinously expensive and staff outnumbered customers 2:1. We were greeted on the first floor by a very exuberant young gentleman trying to sell Bec all kinds of cloth, including a Pashmina shawl costing R7700 (nearly $200.00). The guy was immaculately dressed and was wearing some extremely (deliberately?) obvious makeup. We only had 15 minutes in there, thankfully, which was our excuse for not inspecting every inch of the place, but we did stumble across a perfume counter which was selling these magnificent attar fragrances, pure essences of whatever it was you were after. Bec bought a jasmine one, and I got a blend that smells like a good-quality Western aftershave, minus the dodgy whale fat and beer adjuncts.

We finally got to the airport and the flight was largely uneventful. We were met with the usual precision timing by our guides, and the 1.5 hour drive to Palolem demonstrated the extreme differences in India's geography, starting with dry plains and ending with palm-covered hills. Our hotel, The Village, is nestled behind the main beach of Palolem, which is famed for Matt Damon's jovial little pre-assassination sprint in The Bourne Supremacy. Soon after arriving we met our very cordial host who handed me a beer, thus engendering him in my immediate favour. After finishing our drinks he showed us the 5-minute walk to the beach, on the way meeting a local Boxer dog called Pancho. He left us on the beach and after a few minutes marveling at the sand, sea and surrounding hills we settled at a bar only metres from the water. Not long after settling, one of the local cows started wandering towards us, and I couldn't resist the photo opportunity. She must have taken a liking to me because she followed me back to the bar and began nuzzling around the kitchen area. She was a local of some repute, clearly, because she was quickly handed all sorts of goodies, including lettuce and fruit.

At this same bar we also had our most sensational meal in India to date; almost at a whim I ordered Tandoori Pomfret, a fish indigenous to India. It was about 4 o'clock and had been hoping for a light meal, but instead we got this:

That's a vegetable swan I'm grimacing at, by the way.

This fish was unbelievable. It had been caught this morning and it was the freshest, sweetest, most tender fish either of us have had in a long while. The Tandoori flavouring was fairly typical but delicious and the chips were hand cut and cooked in oil which must have contained turmeric or something.

We had quite a few drinks and might have stayed drinking 2 for 1 cocktails for longer had it not been for the fact that the dunny was literally being installed while we ate and drank, and nature was beginning to call loudly. Also while at the bar we came across a flyer for a comedy night at a town near here, which is boasting a guy by the name of Eddie Izzard. He's kinda famous. I'm skeptical as to whether he'd actually be in such a remote joint doing a show for R100, but I'm willing to explore.

On our way back to our lodgings, one of the cows had to farewell Bec in a seemingly familiar way:

Up to date at last

2010-02-05T13:14:00.004+10:30

This is our last morning in Mumbai and most likely our last with wi-fi for at least the next few days, so this will be a long one.

Yesterday began for me with a very sore throat which at first I assumed was a hangover from the previous night, but turned out is my annual cold which always visits me when I'm away on holiday. It had better not be a mild case of swine flu from the stupid vaccine, that's all I can say.

We began yesterday by ditching the lacklustre breakfast at the hotel and returned to New Laxmi Vilas where we’d had the awesome dosa the day before. We both had uttapam for breakfast, a fermented rice pancake served with the ever-present sambar and coconut chutney and accompanied by masala chai, which was sweet, strong and spicy.

We then returned to our hotel and somewhat reluctantly checked out to return to the original hotel we’d booked. We were surprised to discover that this hotel is in fact a lot better than the four star replacement we’d been given – not only does it have wi-fi, but we have a king size bed, a TV bigger than the one at home, and a great, clean bathroom with a real shower.

After settling in, we slowly made our way back to the Yacht Club to meet Gulshan once again to be shown around the club. It was a fairly quick visit, but once again we were treated to a meal, this time looking over a tranquil garden within the club's walls with a view of the Gateway of India. We had soup and sandwiches, and it was all very proper and English - the crusts were even cut off the bread.

After this we decided to go on the boat to Elephanta Island, which was an experience in itself with multiple boats and a very random approach to filling said boats and leaving on time (plus a bit of entertainment from an openly-farting Japanese tourist). However, after the hour long trip we found ourselves at the island, which was teeming with monkeys and dogs and young cows roaming free. The attraction at the island is the series of enormous caves carved into the hillsides, complete with carvings of gods and stuff like that. On the way back out one of the cows walked right up to me and licked my hand, which was very cute if not a bit gross. Not everyone can say they've been licked by a cow in India, so I will wear this dubious honour with pride.

After the long boat trip back to Mumbai I was starting to feel quite crap, so we made our way back to the hotel where we finally got onto the internet, rested and showered. Luckily for us this hotel is in every bit as good a location as the last, and we found a restaurant within three minutes walk which is renowned for its seafood. It was obviously a very upmarket restaurant for Mumbai's rich and beautiful, because the staff always outnumbered the diners, and we were the only foreigners in there the whole time.

The waiters were very attentive, if not a little pushy, beginning by bringing out a live crab and virtually talking George into ordering it (which he did). I ordered a pomfret balti, and overall the meal was a very messy one, with George wading in with both hands and ending up with masala sauce up to his elbows. Our meals were served with a bread of sorts made from rice flour, which I ate far too much of and didn't even get halfway through my meal.

After this seafood feast we stumbled back to the hotel where I promptly passed out. I've woken up this morning not feeling a whole lot better, but no worse either. We will be picked up in an hour to be taken to the domestic airport, a trip which will likely take two hours despite being only about 20km. We fly to Goa and will then be driven down to Palolem, reputed to be one of the most beautiful beaches in the world. I'm not sure if we'll get internet access there but no doubt by the time we have it again we'll have added another several entries to the laptop.

A few reflections on Mumbai - it is nowhere near as full on as we'd expected. For the biggest city we've ever been in, it is less frenetic, less dirty and less intense than Ho Chi Minh City, and we've hardly seen any beggars or extreme poverty. This may be because we've mainly been around the tourist areas, but this usually intensifies the level of begging. The weather has been great; no more than 30 degrees every day, not much humidity and beautiful balmy evenings with a pleasant breeze. The people are generally very nice, and everyone seems to speak English. It seems as if the great majority of tourists are Indian, so it's not overwhelmingly westernised.

Mumbai has been great, but we're looking forward to the more laid back attitude of the southern areas and having a few days to just laze on the beach and drinks cocktails. Will report again soon.

Drinking and eating among Mumbai's upper crust

2010-02-05T00:43:00.002+10:30

Last night we experienced the haute-couture of Mumbai.

After a rest, involving a very crappy Al Pacino film about a computer-generated actress, we decided to make our way out, despite having some time to kill. Just past our hotel, immediately before the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel, we found a bar called 'Indus'. We gently spoke our way past the surly-looking guard (with the help of the bar's owner, admittedly) and found this uber-cool bar inside, with about a 10-1 ratio of staff to customers. It just so happened that it was 2-4-1 cocktail hour, so of course we had to avail ourselves with Mojitos and Singapore Slings. The bar was somewhat disconcerting; it had a feel like a young-turk gangsters' paradise, and an atmosphere to match. So we didn't stay more than two cheap cocktails.

Stumbling around the corner, past the Zegna store that abuts the Taj Hotel, we again found ourselves on the waterfront with a few minutes to kill. We figured that it couldn't hurt to have a quick drink at one of the Taj's many bars, so we approached the door and found security that'd make American airports proud. We had to put our bags through a scanner and we were both subjected to scrutiny. I guess the scars haven't fully healed.

That said, the renewed lobby (I saw it before only on CCTV footage of people being ruthlessly killed) is magnificent, and the Harbour Bar that we settled in has a stunning view of the Gateway of India and the sea. I had a Harvey Wallbanger (the best I've had) and Bec had a champagne cocktail that actually had fresh Moet in it (I heard the cork pop). They also put on awesome drinking snacks, including nose-burning wasabi peas.

With no time left we knocked back our drinks and rushed to the boat club, where our host was waiting. Mr Gulshan Rai, Esq, is President of the Royal Bombay Yacht Club, and a lovely guy. He and his wife welcomed us with a few drinks in the members' bar, where he introduced me to the fabulous Old Monk Rum. We had a few of those and a snack of chicken kebabs and sesame bread before settling into the restaurant. By this stage I must confess I'd lost the plot somewhat and let it all wash over me; I was delivered some very tasty rice dish and far too much food altogether, and the rums just kept coming. Bec had fish with a white sauce, and the four of us just spoke with some animation about life, the universe and everything.

After a kulfi (ice cream) to finish dinner, we walked back to the hotel to pass out.

Now we only have today (Thursday) to catch up on.

A full day in Mumbai - and some photos

2010-02-04T23:38:00.000+10:30

Having typed the previous few entries on the laptop and not being able to find any wi-fi access, we are now faced with the decision of either uploading all three entries at once when we finally get said access again, retype the lot of it or buy a USB stick so we can take it to an internet café. So much for wi-fi on every corner.

We’re currently having a bit of downtime in the hotel after a day of walking. Some of the sights we saw:

The Gateway of India -

The Taj Mahal Palace Hotel -

Cinemas showing the latest Bollywood hits -

After Leopold’s we found an internet café to look up the number of the friend of the owner of the property where I keep my horse (convoluted?). This done (without typing previous entries), we went back to the hotel and I called the guy before we re-emerged and walked up the Colaba Causeway to find the Colaba markets.

After a very long walk which took us to the docks (at which time we realised we had obviously come too far), we turned back and discovered the markets were quite close to where our hotel is (duh). We wandered the alleys of the market for a while and ended up on the border of what I think was one of Colaba’s slums. It was quite smelly and dilapidated and, feeling like we were intruding on people’s private lives, we gratefully found the streets again and headed back to the more established trails.

After this we headed to one of the Lonely Planet’s recommended restaurants for masala dosas -

- which were simply awesome and everything we’d expected. For me, it was great to go into a restaurant where I knew that everything on the menu was vegetarian. The dosa was enormous with a very tasty and spicy filling of potatoes, onions and lentils. We had a refreshing lime juice and soda to accompany it followed by chai, all for the princely sum of less than four Australian dollars.

After this we went to Mumbai’s gallery of modern art, which was relatively boring but in quite a cool dome-shaped building (and with the added bonus of a toilet, considering I was busting and the places we’d been didn’t seem to have any).

We then went for a wander through the Fort area, which is resplendent with Victorian-style buildings, particularly the University of Mumbai, a stunning complex with towering buildings reminiscent of cathedrals.

This turned out to be quite enough walking for one day, so we wandered back to Colaba to yet another tourist-dominated bar to down four 750ml bottles of Kingfisher.

We’re now back at the hotel resting up before we go to meet the friend of a friend, who just happens to be the president of the Royal Bombay Yacht Club. We feel very privileged to be able to see this place at all, which is open only to members, let alone to be taken to dinner there by someone we don’t even know, so we’re going to glam up appropriately for the evening. No doubt Mumbai’s richest will also be there.

Luckily for us the Yacht Club is just around the corner from our hotel, so we won’t have far to go, or to get back afterwards…since I’m sure we’ll be quite tired after being awake for 24 hours yesterday. We’re watching the latest Indian pop music on Channel V on the TV, which it turns out is identical to (and every bit as crap as) Australian/American/English pop music, but with a Bollywood accent.

No doubt we’ll be checking in again tomorrow, and apparently our next hotel (the original one we booked, that is) has free internet in the lobby, so it’ll probably be four entries at once!

First morning in Mumbai

2010-02-04T23:34:00.000+10:30

We are officially walking, sitting tourist clichés – I am typing this at Leopold’s Café, one the central locales in Gregory David Roberts’s ‘Shantaram’. It is also the second site we’ve seen this morning that fell victim to the 2008 terror attacks, the first being the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel which still bears the scars, coated from head to foot in scaffolding and protective sheeting. That said, for a city of 16 million plus people in the wake of bowel-shaking terrorism, there is a sense of peace and tolerance. All religions seem to walk among each other without animosity; Hindus greet Muslims with the latter’s welcome, both cultures wear their traditional garb with pride. The Hindu women, of all ages, are stunning. They are beautifully dressed from head to toe, with thought given to every accessory and appointment. And this is whether they are shopping in boutique fashion stores or wandering through streets where the poor literally sleep on the road.

The poverty is, however, very confronting. I did see a withered man, perhaps only 40 years old, sleeping on the road in an alleyway, with nothing between him and the hot bitumen. We have also seen the deliberately crippled asking for money to support their wasted lives, and perhaps to feed the greedy mouths of their assailants. For this reason we are torn as to whether to give charity: to do so might help the individual, but does it also perpetuate the crime against humanity?

With the observations out of the way, our morning has been lax. We were up earlier than expected and enjoyed a more-than adequate breakfast of masala omelettes in our hotel. Bizarrely, the breakfast area is on the first floor right outside people’s rooms. We have since then taken a walk past Apollo Bunder, the Taj, the Gateway of India, a few statues and other buildings of varying significance before stumbling on Leopold’s. Next stop is an internet café to get in touch with our contact here.

Sleepless in Mumbai (with no wi-fi)

2010-02-04T23:30:00.002+10:30

We made it. It’s been a mission, but I’m currently tapping away in bed in our hotel in the Fort district of Mumbai. Regrettably we didn’t have WiFi for the first day, so this will be the first of several entries that we've written on the laptop .

The journey here was fairly standard; a few delays, a few irritations and some discomfort, somewhat salved by Singapore Airlines actually being as good as they are reputed.

Before I get to the flight itself, I just want to remark briefly on the stupidity of people. I’m the first one to say that the security systems now part and parcel of plane travel are just stupid (no-one has ever been able to prove the liquid bomb’ thing possible). But if you’re prepared, it’s not that damn hard. The sheer number of people who had their cosmetics just sprawled throughout 13 bloody bags with faces like slumbering sloths awoken to castigation by security and customs officials was staggering.

With that out of the way, the leg from Adelaide to Singapore was the longest but surprisingly bearable. I watched two films – Law Abiding Citizen, which was brutal but really good, and Wall-E which was touching, in a Disney kind of way (that’s not meant quite as it sounds). As is the plan for keeping the natives happy we were given plenty of food and booze. The food was excellent by airline standards, and the pre-mixed Singapore Slings were tasty, refreshing and potent all at once. For me the combination of food, drink and film made the journey fly by, and it was only complicated slightly by a teething child who cried almost constantly.

The stopover in Singapore was marked by our fascination with Singaporean efficiency and just how darn huge the airport was. We took a train from T3 where we landed to T2 where we booked a hotel room for the disgustingly-long lay over on our return trip and generally killed time with a combination of wandering and sitting around. The airport is truly gargantuan and, having some concern that we may have forgotten some crucial element of check-in, used the massive lengths of travelators to get to our boarding gates.

Needless to say, after a few Singapore Slings and Jim Beams on the first flight, I slept through the majority of the second. Bec braved a film, but also slept. As we approached Mumbai, however, I could swear I could smell the city. It was an almost sweet funk of people, food and industry, and I’m sure it’s the same smell that hit us as we made it out of the airport into the real world where we met our driver.

We have arranged a lot of our internal travel and a few of our activities with a group called Vini Travel, and they are so darn good that one of their senior people joined the driver to talk us through the various things they’ve planned for us, which was very reassuring. As we drove to our hotel, we got a late-night view of Mumbai at its sleepiest; the city is massive; the streets are lined with people working, sleeping on make-shift mattresses or entertaining themselves; dogs wander everywhere. The signs of the massive gap between rich and poor are unavoidable. The smells are overpowering. At one point we passed a swamp, the smell of which nearly had us choking. But soon after we rounded a corner to see the Queen’s Necklace; the local description of the lights bounding Chowpatty Beach and the bay out to the Arabian Sea. It was a stunning sight, reminiscent of San Sebastian at night.

Driving in Mumbai is much like driving in South East Asia – controlled suicide. You just have to keep faith in the system which, like physics, makes no sense but seems to work. We found out quickly that after midnight, red lights are literally just a recommendation. We flew through virtually all of them without slowing, and at one point our driver sounded his horn in the window of a police car he was passing, speeding past it as he crossed a red light. Bizarre. I felt like telling him that in Australia that behaviour would score you jail time.

We arrived at our purported hotel after driving through what appeared to be built-up slums then the Fort area which actually looks like it should be in London, only to be told that indeed we had a booking, but the rooms were full (it reminded me of a Seinfeld episode). The hotel moved us to a sister hotel five minutes’ drive away which is apparently nicer and closer to the Colaba markets. That’s of limited benefit since we move back tonight anyway, but at 1:00am local time and about 5am by our body clocks we were past caring.

The room is pleasant enough and I slept well, but my body clock is telling me it’s now 12:44pm. Bec is still sleeping but I am starvingly hungry and hoping for something like a dosa for breakfast. The alarm will go off in an hour or so, and I’ll try to get some sleep in the meantime.

Destination India

2010-02-01T18:21:00.002+10:30

With the long-awaited nuptials now complete, with the benefit of a stunning wedding (if we do say so ourselves), we are now less than 24 hours from take off to Mumbai in Southern India. Our arrival in Mumbai is intended to get the culture shock out of the way early in preparation for what should otherwise be a relaxing jaunt across beach, jungle and city sites across a small portion of this gargantuan nation.

For those not familiar with our holidaying traditions, we tend to soak up the local lifestyle by sitting in bars and restaurants rather than queuing at cliched tourist traps. Some people think this ignores the surrounding culture; on the contrary we believe that food and drink are the binding elements of and between all cultures, and that to imbibe a culture's preferred food, wine, beer or other decadence is to show due respect to it. Besides, we like it.

Anyhow, back to the agenda: we fly to Mumbai tomorrow via Singapore, kindly with but a three-hour stop over. We get into Mumbai at some ungodly hour and, having surrendered long ago any pretense to being intrepid, gung-ho travellers, will be met by a driver who will take us safely to our waiting hotel bed. By a stroke of serendipity (and Adelaide's three degrees of separation), Bec knows someone who knows someone who lives in Mumbai and just happens to be a senior figure in that city's yachting and cricket-playing fraternity, so we may well live the high life with him for a day or two, otherwise sipping Kingfishers, Cobras and any other beers that come our way, and sampling the dishes that appear simultaneously delicious and safe.

From Mumbai we tackle the beaches and lazy lifestyle of Goa, spending four nights split between the state's capital Panaji and a southern town Palolem. From there we go to Mysore, Bangalore and Kochi, where we finally put our feet up to be punted around the backwaters of Kerala in a fully-catered houseboat. Needless to say I'm looking forward to that.

We're hoping that in between travel, dinner and drinks we might fit in a spot of health treatments at one of the myriad Ayurvedic health spas or a spiritual treatment at the famed ashram of the 'hugging mother', Mata Amritanandamayi. But these admittedly are stretch targets.

For now I sign off as we're now less than thirteen hours from take off and we're yet to pack...

The final day

2009-09-13T11:45:00.002+09:30

Friday was our last full day in dreamland. As usual the sun woke us early, and its efforts to raise us from slumber were well supported by powerful winds that actually shifted the floor beneath us. After a bacon and eggs breakfast I took Jedi for a run to the gate, in a deathly head wind that challenged my very flimsy commitment to exercise, a commitment already dented by the night's boozy activities.

My run completed, we cleansed the previous day's misdeeds from ourselves, tidied around the house and headed out for a scenic drive. We drove up from the sole of Yorke Peninsula's geographic foot and headed west towards the big toenail, marked by a lighthouse. There we let Jedi have a bit of a run around on the beach in the shadow of the lighthouse before deciding our own beaches were better and heading home. We decided to use the last of the day's light to enjoy our own cove, and took a picnic blanket and a bottle of French sauvignon blanc with us. We sipped and watched Jedi bounce around in bliss until the sun disappeared behind the walled cove. Clambering up the hill back to the house for a final time, I recall a twinge of sadness as I gazed over our stunning beach view, and at that point I committed to return.

After rinsing away sand under the great outdoor heated shower, we finished the French SB before opening another, this time a Margaret River. The night progressed as the others did, with a delicious dinner of lightly marinated pork loin chops and balsamic vinegar roasted vegetables.

Thursday's highlights - lunch

2009-09-13T11:29:00.002+09:30

Another day with very little achieved, and it was wonderful. It was a cool day, but the sun was out and strong, so Jedi and I took the opportunity to beach bash at the private cove. I ran through my forms and other TKD techniques while Jedi tested his bravery against the buffeting waves. The water was cold but tolerable, and I tried to coax Jedi into a walk around the rocks bounding the cove, but he was smarter than me and left me to discover a massive sea cave only metres from the sand. Intrigued, I sloshed to the cave entrance through knee-deep water, and just as I stepped to the threshold I plunged into a submerged depression. I didn't heed this warning and instead clambered into the cave, which stretched back about 10 metres into solid rock. As the waves ran up about half way into the cave I realised that a single freak wave of any substance would cause me certain death, and quickly made my escape, swimming over the depression and back to my very concerned dog.

With this minor excitement out of the way I clambered back up to the house and we promptly headed into Marion Bay for lunch at the Marion Bay Tavern. We had a table under a pavilion in the beer garden, so Jedi joined us as we enjoyed a gourmet pub lunch. Bec had an amazing Burmese kofta curry, with the koftas made from local seafood including crab, scallop and fish. I had an equally fabulous steak topped with Morton Bay bugtails. The steak was tender and richly flavoured, and the bug itself had a delicious nutty sweetness to it. Highly recommend lunch there if you're ever in those parts.

The rest of the afternoon was lost in sun, wine and relaxation; I did a lot of damage to my book, Shantaram, and Bec shared her time between reading and writing. Still satisfied from lunch we had a low-key dinner of left over risotto, and whiled away the dark hours with a few episodes of Lost.

Wednesday

2009-09-10T12:12:00.002+09:30

I had to put some thought into what day it was; it's a sign of a properly relaxing holiday when you struggle to define one day from the next. There were also a few wines, beers and G&Ts consumed yesterday, so excuse me if I miss any critical details.

The day started as always with Bec getting up to read while I stayed in bed ostensibly to enjoy the sunrise but actually enjoying the view of my eyelids. After breakfast and coffee (this place is FULLY decked out, including a Breville espresso maker) we took Jedi for a run up to the gate. He was still stuffed from the previous day, but managed to find the resolve to run from side to side ahead of us, bounding through the barley crop.

After showers and some reading time and after a snack-lunch of dips and toasted sandwiches I decided the sun was sufficiently over the yardarm and cracked a Pale. Ignoring the beautiful day outside I also tucked into episodes of Family Guy. It got progressively funnier with beers, and after 4 episodes and three Pales it was again time to enjoy the day. We decided to return to a beach we'd seen from the top of a ridge when clambering back from yet another beach on Tuesday. Jedi has become quite an adept mountain dog and scrambled down to the beach and was was resting in a rock pool before we even hit the ground. We sat around watching him have fun, thundering through the water and burying sticks in the loose sand. After a bit of a clamber over more rocky outcrops to see if yet more beaches were in reach we decided it was time to call it a day - and following my additional two beers on the beach, I was more than ready.

That said, I still found myself tempted to try out another goat track to a small beach we spied on the way back. I headed down and called Jedi to come with me, but he was either too smart or too tired to follow. But obviously he lost sight of Bec and decided to follow me as I trampled across a small, rocky beach looking out onto an outcrop about 100m offshore, inviting me to swim to it. Remembering my experience in San Sebastian - and the 5 beers in my belly - I instead tried to find an easy path out, but again Jedi left me and quickly found a much more direct and safe path, beating me back to the house and smiling at me from the deck as I panted my way home.

Too tired to bother showering we both changed into trackie dacks and got on the side deck with our books. It wasn't long until the sun demanded we open a light red, from Marinda Park in Victoria's Mornington Peninsula. As the sun's warmth faded, we moved inside and tackled dinner, a chicken, capsicum and mushroom risotto, and it rocked. With the light red quickly demolished we moved onto the big guns - a 2004 Zema Estate Shiraz. This Coonawarra beast is a favourite of ours, and it remains so - still big and blustery, but with elegant hints of age revealing the classic cigar box and understory characters, still overlaid with the subtle, peppery sweetness of Coonawarra fruit. It was magnificent.

Satisfied with food and wine we polished off yet more episodes of Lost, and polished ourselves off with an ill-advised gin and soda before both falling asleep on the couch.

Another day in paradise

2009-09-09T16:17:00.002+09:30

Excuse the Phil Collins reference, but it had to be said. We're also technically ("I don't know what you mean by 'technically...'") on day three of paradise, but my report refers to day two.

Anyhoo, after an early night Bec was up and about early-ish but me, being the lazy sod I am, lay in bed fully intending to watch the sun rise (the main BR looks over the sea towards Kangaroo Island) but instead slept like the dead in a coma.

When I finally dragged my lazy carcass out of bed we decided to find the 'private beach' that had eluded us in the fading light of Monday evening. We were surprised by our own stupidity as the directions given to us by Yondah's proprietors were more or less accurate. After clambering down a bit of a goat track improved marginally by rudimentary steps we found ourselves on a little cove with towering cliff faces on either side and a beautiful view of Kangaroo Island interrupted only by massive rocks jutting out of the ocean. Jedi nearly exploded at his first sight of beach this journey and wasted no time getting into the water. Bec and I on the other hand had some exercise to catch up on, so while she lunged, stretched and flexed I went through all my tae kwon do techniques and patterns. I also managed a very brief swim, but the water was frickin' cold and I got out before Bec would be forced to question my gender (very briefly, the cove is very private, and my torn shorts were obstructing my technique. Nothing more need be said). Back at the ranch, I enjoyed the luxury of a solar-heated outdoor shower before changing into exercise clothes and taking Jedi for a run to Yondah's main gate. I nearly did myself an injury by trying to extend the run around a paddock that bounds the property and promptly rolled my ankle AND got a bug in my eye. Retreating to the safety of the track I finished of the run, and for each kilometre I ran, Jedi ran at least four, diving through the crop like a dog posessed. Quite handy really, since the emerging barley rid his belly of sand and water from our earlier beach wanderings.

After my second shower for the day I settled into the formalities of the day - reading. I am well and truly engrossed in Shantaram at the moment and, despite the apparent egotistical and arrogant nature of the author, I am stunned at the lyricism, wisdom and beauty in this book. On the flipside of my literary absorption, Bec was busily creating rather than consuming, hammering away at her most recent novel. She is nearing the end and it seems to have inspired her.

As darkness began to ascend, beers were opened and wines were cracked. Aside from a few Pales for me we enjoyed a Margaret River Riesling and a fantastic Killakanoon Cabernet - The Kellerman's Run. We managed three episodes of Lost and a casual dinner (gourmet mixed grill) before both falling asleep on the couch.

It's now 4:30pm the following day but I should be enjoying my book and mu beer rather than typing so I'll update you again tomorrow.

Adventures over Yondah

2009-09-08T13:40:00.002+09:30

It's a long way removed from Vietnam, Cambodia or Western Europe, but that doesn't mean we're having any less fun. We're about 350km from Adelaide at a self-contained holiday house called Yondah, 20km east of Marion Bay on SA's Yorke Peninsula.

We're here for a deliberately different holiday, one that we can share with our favourite son, Jedi. And he's already had so much fun that as I type, at about 1:45pm on a Tuesday, he's fast asleep on his ridiculously comfortable-looking dog bed.

A bit about Yondah to start: Bec found it through the Facebook updates and photos from her friend Yvette who stayed here about a year ago. Apart from the stunning photos, the place came highly recommended as somewhere to get away with doing as little as possible. So far, that's what we've done.

We left Adelaide around midday and apart from the using tailgaiting idiots and slow drivers, the journey was uneventful, but beautiful. Rounding the apex of the gulf about 20 minutes out of Port Wakefield gives you a taste of what you're in for the further you travel; crystal-clear, still waters, gently rolling hills lush with traditional South Australian scrub or positively bursting with healthy crops (Cooper's get their malting barley from this part of the world). As we got closer to our destination, the towns become ever smaller but more appealing, often with two pubs within a road's width of each other. The local tennis club in one of these tiny hamlets was proudly sponsored by the above-mentioned Cooper's, the sponsor sign saying "proud sponsors of the Port Pirie tennis club" - about 150km away by my guess...

Moving off the main roads we took a long, straight and well maintained dirt road for about 20km and turned left at the second of only two intersections before we'd otherwise crash into the sea. We'd been warned that the sign subtly indicating Yondah had been moved due to road works, and if it weren't for Bec's timely comment that bins should be out we would have driven straight past. But disaster averted, we arrived at the Yondah gate and I was given the task of retrieving keys from a combination-locked box at the gate. I had my usual hopeless fumble with the farmer's lock and wire combination (a sad indictment for someone having grown up on a farm 200km north from where we are now) and we trecked onto what would be our private road for coming days. Driving through yet more healthy crop along another well maintained road, we came to a rise, at the other side of which we saw what we'd come for - the most amazing view of ocean, cliffs, a naturally wild but beautiful garden and an enormous roof covering Yondah's open-plan kitchen, dining and living room, bathroom, three bedrooms and three decks. As we unpacked and began divining for the way to the beach, we noticed far to our south the blurred outline of Kangaroo Island.

The afternoon was cool, but Jedi was keen to explore, so we went hunting for the beach. We quickly realised that although it was close, it was accessible only to goats, or via a very specific path. Relinquishing a polar-style swim, we instead walked along sand dunes masquerading as ridges overlooking stunning vistas of rocky cliff faces, ocean, sky and the beauty of green paddocks. We walked for long enough that we lost track of time and turned back only when my concerns about descending darkness became strong.

Although these fears were unfounded (thank God for spring and, shortly, daylight savings), we returned to the comfort of the household and sat on the side deck enjoying the last of the sun. It wasn't long until the glory of the surrounds demanded a drink be enjoyed with them, and I turned to my trusty Cooper's Pale Ale and Bec had a Mercury Artisan Cider. It would be remiss of me to not comment on beverages in these pages, so I must say that the Artisan is the only cider that comes close to an imported number such as the invincible Magners. My Cooper's was as good as always, savoured at the end of a hard day's bludge.

Of course the next critical element of any George and Bec holiday is food, so as we had our first drinks we also enjoyed a very tasty green olive dip from Jaegger's (sp?) in the Central Markets. That and the first drink simply whetted our appetites, so we got to work on the old favourite for a cold holiday's night, roast chicken. We were grateful for having accidentally picked up a marinated Lillydale chook firstly because it rocked and secondly because it made life so much easier. With very little effort the chook was thrown in the oven, and pumpkin, potatoes and onions followed. Yondah's kindly proprietors had good old Mitani Chicken Salt in the cupboard, so that gave the spuds the extra lift needed (of course chicken fat on its own wasn't enough...).

Anyhow, getting to the point, dinner was delicious and enjoyed with a bottle of Margaret River Semillion. Satisfied and weary, we sat with our wines and watched a few episodes of Lost, catching up on season 3 before tackling the brain-bending season four.

Now it's Tuesday 2pm and I could report on the morning's activities, but given they contain gratuitous nudity and silliness I might leave it for Bec to report.

Cheers

Planes, airports and a near-death experience, but we made it

2008-11-22T17:14:00.004+10:30

We're home at last and couldn't be happier about it as long as we don't think about going to work in two days...

After whiling away our last day nursing hangovers in the restaurant of our hotel, we got a tuk tuk out to Siem Reap airport for the first of four flights over 24 hours to get home.

All went according to plan for this flight until we were approaching Ho Chi Minh City, when the plane was caught in a storm. The sun had pretty much set, and when the sun sets in Asia darkness pretty much plummets, and the storm occurred right as the darkness was plummeting. We could see lightning ahead and a big, thick black cloud, and we plunged straight into this cloud and could see nothing around us. And then the turbulence started.

I'm not really a fan of flying at the best of times, and I've never liked turbulence, but this was insane. The plane was bucking up in the air, and then plunging down what seemed like a long way. There was lightning all around us and it seemed awfully close. Whenever a plane goes through turbulence I always look at the cabin staff to be reassured by their calm expressions, but all the staff on this flight pretty much disappeared and all the lights were turned off in the cabin, so we were just sitting in darkness holding hands and thinking the plane was about to crash.

As if flying isn't scary enough already, but when the wind is just tossing around this huge machine with casual abandon, and you know that if you crash you're certain to die, it's kind of terrifying.

Luckily, after about five minutes of this it calmed down a bit and the captain, who thankfully spoke good English, announced that he'd been ordered to keep a holding pattern in a clear spot until the storm moved away from the airport. This ended up lasting for about half an hour and there was still a bit of turbulence, and I don't think I breathed properly until we safely landed.

Luckily the weather had calmed down by the time we'd gone through customs to get into Vietnam, checked in for our next flight and then turned around and went back through customs to get out again, and waited the three hours for the next flight. An added comfort, as lame as it sounds, was the entirely Australian staff, which made us feel almost like we were in Australia again.

The next stop was Darwin, and again there was some bad weather going on there so we had yet more turbulence to deal with, although nothing like the last lot. After flying through the night and not getting any sleep we were completely buggered and almost blew off getting duty free stuff, but since we would have had a half hour wait to get through customs anyway, we braved the crowd in the tiny shop and came out with the allowed four litres of booze.

We had to declare some placemats we'd bought in Cambodia, and unfortunately they were deemed unsuitable for entry into Australia without treatment that would've cost three times what we paid for them, so they went in the bin.

Although we were back in Australia we were still only halfway home, but we'd dealt with customs for the last time at least. We had another four and a half hour flight to Sydney despite the fact that there were direct flights to Adelaide that would've got us home earlier. The flight was delayed, which was a bit of a worry since we'd allowed one and a half hours between landing in Sydney and getting on our next flight to Adelaide, but we ended up getting there in plenty of time for our last very uneventful flight (apart from, you guessed it, more turbulence).

Finally home, we were greeted by our rapturous dog and it couldn't have been a better night. We had showers for the first time in two days and in the first real shower in two weeks, we cooked a simple dinner, had a bottle of red and watched crap on telly. We put on a bread to be ready for breakfast this morning and we slept for 11 lovely hours in our own bed.

All we've really achieved other than doing our washing and our shopping is uploading all our photos. So if you've got the time and the patience, you can check them out here. They're in reverse order, so start with Sydney and work your way back. Beware that the Siem Reap album has shitloads of photos of temples which probably all look the same!

Overall, we're delighted to be home again and we had a great holiday. As George said in our last post, I'd recommend Cambodia to anyone as a holiday destination. The people were awesome, especially the kids. I wanted to take one home with me. The food is great and it's generally dirt cheap (you'd struggle to pay more than $US6 for a meal, and that'd be a very fancy number indeed). The currency is a bit confusing, as they deal in $US as well as the local riel, and you'll usually get change with a bit of both, since $US1 = 4000 riel. And you can't deal only in riel either since the ATMs only dispense $US. But it's easy to get used to after a while, unless you've run your change down and you've only got a 50 dollar note, then you might be in trouble unless you're in a restaurant that's likely to have large denomination notes!

The only real downside of Cambodia is that there are only a couple of main highways in the country, so getting around is a bit of a problem. You can't really get from one main area to another without having to go back to Phnom Penh to get another bus out, so unless you've got a month to see it all, you'll end up spending half your holiday travelling between places, or spend a lot of money getting taxis across the country. But even this is changing. While most of the roads are dirt roads in terrible condition, there will be an effort in the near future to completely upgrade the only railway in the country so that fast trains can travel on them, and with the increase in tourism, eventually the roads will be paved and travel will be faster.

Anyway, I've gone on for long enough, so here endeth our travel tales for this year. I'm not sure where or when we'll go next, but I'm sure it won't be long before we start thinking about it again!

The final countdown

2008-11-20T15:06:00.002+10:30

We're off in five and a half hours, but Cambodia being Cambodia, we need to leave in three.

Yesterday was the intended low-key affair. After our last report, we wandered up the road to the somewhat pointless royal gardens and further on to find a place reputed to have fine miniatures of the Angkor temples. We found the right street but despite signs pointing directly to it we couldn't find the place and instead ended up at this awesome-looking hotel seemingly in the middle of nowhere, where we asked for directions and, fortuitously, I found the country's best toilet facilities.

With the aid of the hotel staff's directions we found the place, and it was $3 poorly spent - I must admit the replica of Angkor Wat was pretty spectacular, but the place itself was just some dude's back yard, and it really was a ramshackle organisation. This done and no other plans to speak of we braved the belting heat and stumbled around the Pub Street area looking for somewhere besides Pub Street to eat. We settled on a Lonely Planet recommendation, the Blue Pumpkin, which had great sandwiches and even better pastries - I had a pineapple flan and it blew me up.

Full and buggered from not much at all we decided we'd earned a beer and sat down at the first place offering 50c draught beers. We moved onto several others, of course returning to Pub Street for the kick-off of major happy hours (although many pubs have permanent happy hours anyway). We arrived at Angkor What...? and ran into a Kiwi couple we'd seen around the temple tracks over the past day or so. We joined them for a drink and got stuck into the place's signature drink - a literal bucket, like a plant pot, of booze. We had gin and tonics, each consisting of a bucket of ice, a full tumbler glass of gin and one can of tonic. It was madness. Frankly I was bombed after this one drink and paid no attention to the Apsara dancing going on at the pub across the road when we were eating our somewhat forgettable dinner.

With energy waning the four of us came back to the hotel (turns out by coincidence the Kiwi couple were staying at the same place) and foolishly I got another beer while the Kiwis chatted to some Welsh or Scottish dudes who'd just flown in. Bec had the right idea and promptly fell asleep next to me. With that idea gaining weight I took us to bed and pretty much passed out.

This morning has just consisted of the boring-arsed packing thing so there's nothing to report, although I must say I am relishing being on the path back home, despite it being certain to be a nightmare. I will however take the opportunity to make a few random reflections on Cambodia.

* The two major beers here are named 'Anchor' and 'Angkor'. This would have problems for any narrow-minded beer drinking culture, but the Khmers have a simple remedy - 'Anchor' is pronounced as it actually looks - 'An-Chaw'. Simple but effective, like most of the local innovations.

* Local innovations: both the Vietnamese and the Khmers are brilliantly adaptable people. The way they resolve problems and get things done with sheer inventiveness is unceasingly inspiring. Everywhere you go you see these innovations in practice; bicylces doubling as food stalls, single engines driving a tiny but powerful tractor capable of pulling heavy loads at reasonable speeds, boat motors that collect coolant water off its own rotor, amputees using reversed bikes to pedal with their hands; endless adaptability.

* The good nature of the Khmers in the face of seemingly impossible adversity. They simply don't get angry, and they don't hold grudges. They have even made an 'agreement' with the remnants of the Khmer Rouge. This itself is unfathomable to me, but it what makes the community work. They are also incredibly undemanding; despite the occasional harassment from touts and food and souvenir sellers, the great majority of people just smile and say hello. Kids in particular love it when you so much as wave or smile at them; say hello back and they'll pretty much explode. It's awesome. The kids are also amazingly happy; Bec's driver on one of our Battambang tours said that Cambodian kids always smile because they're happy with what they have. It should be an inspiration to us.

* A random recollection so far unreported: when we were heading back from our first day of temple bashing, our driver pulled up just short of our hotel as a group of kids seemingly rode straight into the path of traffic. But rather than this being what I assumed to be a petty rebellion, two phallanxes of boys on bikes made a barricade across the road to allow younger students to leave safely at the end of the school day. Only a few impatient drivers went through or around the barricade; the great majority waited until the bike riding crossing guards had fulfilled their duties. It was a great sight and I regret not getting a photo.

* Bike culture starts early here. Before they can even reach the pedals, kids are riding adult bicycles, standing on the pedals and riding as well if not better than you or I could now. There'd be kids no older than 4 riding like this; you can't really envisage it until you see it.

I'm sure there are other little snippets like this I could add; as I remember them I'll try to record them here. We'll do another post when we've got our photos safely downloaded and online.

As a final note before we depart, I'd just like to heartily recommend this country to travellers from all spectrums. You could have any kind of holiday you wanted here - budget or big spender travellers can all have a great time. The temples shouldn't have to be the be all and end all of a trip to Cambodia; the people are what make it a great country. We'll almost certainly be back one day and I think now we'll struggle to enthuse ourselves to see any more of Vietnam when this place has most of what Vietnam has to offer, and so much more just in its people.

It's been fun reporting to you all, and of course for our own record of this journey. We hope it inspires many more people to come to Cambodia. Those who have been before us will also sing its praises.

All that said, there's no place like home and we'll see you all there again soon.

George and Bec.

Planes, buses, tuktuks, temples and other debacles

2008-11-19T14:35:00.003+10:30

One more day and we'll be on the way home, since we finally sorted out our lost ticket debacle. Well, not really sorted out at all, but more about that later.

After our last report post-Angkor Wat, we headed back to 'Pub Street' and landed at the Angkor What...? bar, a cool little pub type bar with the slogan 'promoting irresponsible drinking for xx years', and this was certainly the case, with happy hour including pitchers (yes, whole jugs) of cocktails for only $6. We promptly ordered a pitcher of Angkor Sunset, which was something like a Tequila Sunrise, but had different stuff. Can't remember now, for obvious reasons. After consuming all 6 glasses from the pitcher, we went for dinner at the Red Piano, which was bloody tasty, then a post-dinner drink before getting a tuk tuk back to our hotel to crash out.

Yesterday began bright and early with our trusty tuk tuk driver/guide picking us up at 7.30 and taking us on the very long and bumpy drive to the River of 1000 Lingas, visiting a couple of temples on the way. The river is famous for the 1000s of years old carvings in the stone along the riverbed, most of them depicting a linga (phallic symbol of the power of the Hindu god Shiva), but also some other more intricate people and animals. It was truly cool, especially considering that the carvings are still there after however many years of rushing water passing over them. The whole experience was enhanced by the 1.5km walk to get there through the jungle, clambering over giant rocks and tree roots (typical Cambodian OH&S observed at all times, of course).

After returning to the tuk tuk we needed to put some more fuel in our tanks, so we had a quick lunch there before heading to Bantay Srei, a sandstone temple that had a slightly pink hue caused by moss (apparently). That was quite cool too, and a bit different from most of the others we'd seen.

I think we saw another two or three on the way back, but they're all starting to blur into one now. One stood out for the two giant trees that were growing together over the entrance to the temple, simultaneously knocking it down and holding it up at the same time.

The last, Preah Khan, was an absolutely huge sprawling temple with many different chambers, with one side built for the Buddha and one for the Hindu gods. Over the years Cambodia has switched between being a Hindu and a Buddhist country, and this temple was built during the time that both religions existed alongside one another. Later, when Hinduism was predominant, the king of the time had all images of the Buddha removed from this temple, but then when Buddhism returned, they thought they'd set a good example and leave the Hindu images intact - thus they were the bigger people in the end. When we first walked into this temple a tourist police guy asked us if he could tell us the story of the temple, and he took us through the whole thing and told us plenty of tales about its history, which was pretty cool. At the end he asked for a 'donation' since he was paying for English lessons and trying to get better. After his efforts this was understandable, although it was a bit much when he asked for more than what we gave him! Nevertheless, we handed it over for a service well rendered, and finally made it back to our hotel after about 10 hours of touring.

After a shower and a bit of a rest we headed back to Pub Street (again) and returned to the Angkor What...? for yet another pitcher of Angkor Sunset. Here we shared a table with a couple of French guys who've been living here for five months and were indulging in their own happy hour excess - pots of rum and coke. They were literally served in plant pots, and only cost $5. I imagine we will probably be trying those tonight - same price for a pot of G&T too!

We chatted to these very affable blokes for a while before making our escape before George was tempted to buy his own pot of rum and coke, and went to the night markets to do a bit of last minute souvenir shopping. The markets in themselves were very cool, and very different from most of the crowded, claustrophobic messes of markets you usually find in Asia. They were roomy, and looked more like a mall than a market, and each main wing had a bar with a happy hour if you needed a break amid shopping (and probably, the influence of alcohol to cause you to buy more). The shop owners don't hassle you much at all (unlike Benh Than markets in Ho Chi Minh, where you can't walk three steps without people grabbing your arm and saying 'What you looking for, miss?'), and while the prices are a bit higher, you can still bargain for discounts. We had one drink at a bar and watched a couple of enthusiastic bar tenders giving non stop Cocktail-style demonstrations with glasses and bottles, then bought the requisite stuff we'd decided on.

After this we returned to Pub Street and indulged in that staple that we can never do without for longer than a couple of weeks - Indian food. And it was bloody good too.

After dinner we were full and buggered, so we went back to the hotel for a nice long sleep.

We've decided that we're a bit templed out now, so we had the first relaxed morning for several days. We probably won't be making use of the third day of our temple tickets (same price for 2 or 3 days, so we've talked ourselves into it being value for money anyway), but we'd like our last day here to be a bit more laid back.

We began after breakfast by trying once again to solve the problem of our lost flight tickets. Let me explain the whole story - we booked the flight from Siem Reap to HCMC, to connect with our flight back to Australia, online using a travel website called expedia.com. They sent us paper tickets (first bad thing), and the flight was with Vietnam Airlines (which should have been enough of a warning after our experience with them last year).

Somewhere along the way (no idea where), we lost the pouch of important shit (which contained our passports and tickets, but luckily we'd taken the passports out of it to get through customs). We didn't realise we'd lost it until we were about to cross the border into Cambodia and were looking for the departure card we'd got in the Vietnam airport. One calamity after another got in the way of us sorting out the problem - the first being the two day holiday for the water festival (Khmer translation - one week) meaning that the Vietnam Airlines office was closed when we were in Phnom Penh and we couldn't contact them by phone for the whole week either.

When we finally arrived in Siem Reap, we went to the Vietnam Airlines office here, only to find out that although it was a Vietnam Airlines flight, and booked through the Expedia website, we somehow needed to 'report' the lost tickets to China Air. When we did this they said they'd call us at the hotel, which they did yesterday, but of course we were out until 6pm and couldn't call back. This morning the hotel owners kindly called them for us (this was after they'd lost the number and had to go through the bin to find it), and the outcome was that we had to go to Phnom Penh TODAY in order to pick up the reissued tickets to fly from here to HCMC. (look on a map - Siem Reap is at the top of the country, Phnom Penh at the bottom, closer in fact to HCMC. We would have had to get a bus to Phnom Penh (6 hours), pick up the tickets (except that the office would be closed by the time we got there), then get a bus all the way back up here in order to fly back over Phnom Penh to HCMC. Cambodian logic). The only other option would be to delay our flight another day, which was impossible since we're flying back to Australia tomorrow night.

So our only option was to buy the tickets again and hope that our travel insurance will reimburse us the money once we get home. We know it's our fault, but really, how bloody ridiculous is this system?! It's very frustrating, but at this point we're happy to have spent another $260 just to know we're going home tomorrow. And on a positive note, the people at our hotel are so helpful - if we'd had to try to discuss this over the phone in English it would have been even more of a debacle.

This sorted, we're now going into town to look at shit and generally have a relaxed day. Very much looking forward to being on the way home, and even more to actually getting home to our own bed and animals and cooking our own food.

Will probably report again tomorrow before we leave. Cheers.

Drop the Angkor, we need a break

2008-11-17T21:54:00.002+10:30

George reporting from Siem Reap, following our first day in Cambodia's answer to Disney Land - the temples of Angkor.

Since our last report we have done a lot of travel and not much else until today. After our last report, we had the last Battambang supper at the long-awaited Smokin' Pot. We both had very traditional Khmer dishes - Bec had fish Amok and I had the 'fire mountain', in other words marinated beef you cook yourself on a portable stove. It was really good. Unfortunately for Bec, hers didn't rock so much. We finished our last night somewhat later than ideal for our 7am departure the next day; Bec was coerced into my game of Texas Hold'em with Brett, manager of the Bus Stop guesthouse where we'd stayed, and his wife, Tia (also coerced). It was fun, especially since with a generous scoop of good luck, I won the pot!

Anyhow, the journey to Siem Reap along the Sangker River almost didn't begin at all; the bus driver forgot us, and a frantic tuk tuk driver was sent after us. Given we were late we were relegated to the back seats, also known as the outdoor engine compartment. Quickly deafened by the engine and whipped by branches as we cruised down tiny canals, we followed the crowd onto the roof of the boat, where the journey rapidly improved. It was damn hot, but the views were magnificent, and by hanging one's legs over the side it wasn't terribly uncomfortable.

Making it to shore after a run across Tonle Sap lake we were accosted by (allegedly) starving kids, tuk tuk drivers and other dodgy scammers. We'd fallen for the oldest scam in the book and given our names to some bloke on the boat who had this rather logical piece of paper arguing that since our hotel booked the boat we also had free transport to our accommodation. Lesson number one in not getting ripped off in developing nations: outlandish lies are no problem at all, and they'll smile and nod while telling you complete crap. The guy set to deliver us to our hotel was horrified when we said we'd already booked a place, since the scam involves your 'free' trip being entirely dependent on you staying wherever your tuk tuk driver takes you - that being the place paying him commission. So we ended up in a pain-in-the-rectum argument about the fact we'd already paid deposits etc, we weren't changing our accommodation, how much is fair, and eventually settled on $4, a ludicrously inflated price given his lies about how much further from the city our hotel was (it was also terrible according to him, but it's the second best place we've been).

The other challenge disembarking was these kids trained to be perfect parasites, wanting to eat anything we had and offering nothing but rudeness and boisterousness in return. In fact they even participated in one poor soul from our boat ending up on her backside on the muddy banks of the lake. She must be a saint 'cause she laughed it off. I would have been swinging punches (except they were 10 or less, so not really, but they p*ssed me off anyway).

Anyhow, whinging aside, we got to our hotel and it's fantastic. The family running the place are extremely friendly and I've been locked onto by one of the kids who's wrapped that I think his Borat impersonation is hilarious (which it is). After settling in we had a few beers and listened to the kid's awesome iPod playlist then headed to the infamous Bar Street aka Pub Street, and no prizes for guessing what we did there. Not a lot to report except awesome happy hour prices: for two beers and two cocktails between us we left a total of $5. Sweet.

Starvingly hungry we went the pizza option, at the dubiously named 'Ecstatic Pizza' where, unsurprisingly, they'll put a little something special on your pizza if you so desire. We decided to chance it and, again unsurprisingly, nothing happened. That said, we did get very tired very quickly and ended up crashing out before 10.

This morning we had our first of three days touring the temples, the raison détre of Siem Reap in the tourist age. We had a tuk tuk driver for the whole day and took full advantage of this by getting him to first take us to Vietnam Airlines with the hope of sorting out a ticketing debacle (no such luck). We began our adventures at Bayon, a temple coverered in zany faces, then went on to Priminekas and the Elephant and Leper King walks. We then went to a couple of lesser temples and onto the highlight of the day, the overgrown Ta Prohm, the scene of the first Tomb Raider film. Don't let that put you off; it's amazing. Trees grow on top of towers and walls. Massive root systems dwarf statues and other formations. Everywhere nature is defeating this timeless construction. It's awesome.

Frankly, it was a bit downhill from there. It was hot, damn hot, and we were already buggered by 1. Stopping for lunch at 2 charged the batteries a bit, but we had the biggest - and ostensibly best - yet to come. Our driver dropped us to the back of Angkor Wat, which saved us some tourist angst, but also probably enhanced the let down factor a bit. There's not much 'wow' at the back, although it does get pretty impressive as you work your way into the four layers of the central towers. Unfortunately the peaks themselves are now off limits - permanently or temporarily we don't know. But we finished off with the requisite photos of the front of the Wat, across its massive moats etc. The photos do look impressive, but after a whole day of temples, heat and some harrassment, we were a bit over it (that said, as an aside, there was a mysterious absence of the kids trying to sell you useless crap within the building itself - perhaps authorities have seen sense and banned the practice within the country's most holy building).

So now we're showered and prepared to hit Bar/Pub Street again. We have another, hopefully shorter, temple day tomorrow and we will report back then.

Farewell.

The day the boy became a man

2008-11-15T22:45:00.002+10:30

Today, George conquered several fears, and with great aplomb I might add.

We decided to do another day tour, considering the stinkin' Smokin' Pot was still not open so we couldn't do the cooking class today, but at $20 per person it was starting to get a bit pricey, so our hotel host suggested a slightly cheaper alternative: get one guide to take me on the back, and rent a motorcycle for the day for George to ride. I was dubious but he was keen, so we decided to do it.

He started out with a quick tutorial in our street, which, although not manically busy, was quite busy enough for someone who hadn't ridden a motorbike for at least 10 years, and never on the right side of the road, and certainly never in a foreign country that has no road rules whatsoever. This achieved with some success, we set off, with me looking over my shoulder every five seconds to make sure he was still following and not flattened on the road.

But, all things considered, he did a very good job, despite me shitting myself on his behalf the whole way, and about an hour later we arrived at an enormous lake that is apparently 8km wide, and during the Khmer Rouge regime had been dammed, at the expense of many more lives, so that the country could produce two crops of rice per year rather than just one.

We then went on a mildly scary ride in a small rowboat that not only had a leak in it, but had very low sides so that anytime we moved, a bit of water would tip in. George was given a plate for the purpose of bailing out water as we went, and although the patch of lotus plants and flowers that we went through was beautiful, I was very keen to get back to shore asap, particularly since the kid who was rowing us was whispering to himself every now and then and sounded slightly psychotic. Turns out he wasn't, but still, when you can't swim very well and you're in the middle of a lake in a leaky boat, you don't tend to feel very confident.

Reaching the shore again with the boat and our lives still intact, we had a quick wander along the shore where there was supposed to be a row of Khmer restaurant stalls, but it didn't look like anyone was cooking anything (and with an hour's ride back on the bike with no facilities in sight, we wouldn't have risked having lunch there anyway). So we got back on the bikes for a long, bumpy and very dusty trip back to Battambang.

After long showers to get rid of the dust, George then conquered his second fear by taking me as a pillion passenger on the back of the bike to a local restaurant. After a bit of a shaky start where we almost cleaned up a few very alarmed girls, he got the hang of the extra weight pretty quickly and we had a very tasty lunch at the restaurant.

But this wasn't until he'd conquered his third fear - using the dubious dunny with no toilet paper and no time to get anywhere else. I won't go into details, but he claims he is now a new man after the experience (in fact, after two as it turns out).

After lunch we decided to explore a bit further and rode through a picturesque village along the river where there were a lot of temples and a lot of happy smiling kids waving wildly to us as we went past and screaming out 'Hello! Hello! Hello!' and then squealing with delight when we waved back. The road just kept going for ages so we followed it until we came to a bloody steep hill going downwards and George decided that his confidence wasn't quite up to this task, so we turned around, much to the amusement of a bunch of locals.

We went back to the hotel and sat out the front for a while with a couple of beers and read our books, then retired to our room for a lie down for another hour or so. We've just emerged now and are about to have dinner at aforementioned stinkin' Smokin' Pot (it re-opened today, just in time for us to piss off tomorrow). After this our hotel guy is going to teach George how to play Texas Hold'em Poker and I'll probably watch that for about half an hour before going to bed.

Tomorrow we're up bright and early to get the 7 hour boat to Siem Reap. It's supposed to be the most beautiful boat ride in Cambodia, but we're hoping it might be a bit ahead of schedule. After tonight we've only got four more nights in Cambodia before we begin our arse journey back. We're both missing home and looking forward to getting back into a normal routine, but will have to steel ourselves for the tourist nightmare that lies ahead.

Metal cows and Cambodian snow

2008-11-14T18:32:00.003+10:30

No, Bec and I have not been sampling Cambodia's infamous 'happy pizza'; these are just a few of our learnings from our just completed moto tour of Battambang's countryside.

But let me bring you up to speed.

After our last report, we did what we'd promised to ourselves we'd use Battambang to do - nothing. We went to the room, turned on the fan, a/c and CNN and slept - a thoroughly decadent experience for me (that said I was feeling poorly). Whenwe finally dragged ourselves out of the room again we couldn't really be buggered with traipsing back to the river front for dinner so instead did a dusty and futile walk around the three main streets looking for somewhere to kill time before dinner. We settled on a nice looking first floor balcony called 'Gecko', a restaurant/bar/massage parlour to which we'd received free drink vouchers. After a couple of G&Ts all inspiration to move on left us, so we got a cop-out dinner of burgers and fries from the same joint (and I thought my burger rocked, so score one to me).

With full bellies and desire for more drinks waning rapidly we retired to our hotel, where despite my not particularly wanting to drink I still managed to bring our foolish Phnom Penh purchase of a bottle of gin downstairs to drink with the hotel owner while he battled the Mac settings on my iPod in an ultimately fruitless attempt to reverse tunes off it. It can be done; oh yes, it can be done.

After too many gins I stumbled upstairs (Bec had made the right call earlier) only to find Die Hard III on. So an early night was scotched.

This morning we finally got out and about. We'd organised a tour through our hotel and got two bikes and guides to take us around local Battambang sites. The highlights included a ride on what's called the Bamboo Train, a highly dodgy contraption that runs a thin bamboo platform at high speed across some of the worst train track in the world. Although it'd meet no safety standards whatsoever, it was damn good fun and we got to see some fantastic scenery, including rice fields stretching to the horizon.

We also went to an Angkor-style temple at the peak of a decent climb, and later to what's colloquially known as Boat Mountain, the home to legends about the foundation of Cambodia's terra firma. The walk and the guide's input were both fascinating. The walk also took us through another of the Khmer Rouge's litany of offenses against humanity; a gaping hole in the earth leading to a cave and a 30 foot fall for anyone who fell foul of the regime's insane intolerance. It was sickening but moving.

We finished with a dusty trek through village territory where I learned the two terms that headline this yarn: Cambodian snow is a polite term for the choking dust thrown up by the myriad cars, trucks, motos and tuk tuks that gradually tear up the roads, and metal cows are modernity's answer to an ox-pulled plough. It's a fascinating place, and if you ever come here I'd recommend the same two guides we had.

Having returned to the (relative) safety and cleanliness of our hotel, we shouted our guides a beer then headed back to the rocking nameless noodle place for lunch. We've had a few beers and there's not many plans for the remainder of the day aside from showers, more beers and maybe drinks and dinner at the Riverside Balcony.

We're spewing that the Smoking Pot remains shut despite a re-opening date of 13 November, but it seems Vietnamese 'rubber time' applies here too. As a result we might do another tour tomorrow, but for now it's time for cleaning, napping, and perhaps even learning the art of Texas Hold'em from our colourful (and somewhat bogan) hotellier.

Need a slash. Cheers.

Battered in Battambang

2008-11-13T17:21:00.002+10:30

Our journey to Battambang was fairly uneventful - for a 5 1/2 hour trip it was comfortable enough, with a few stops on the way to stretch our legs and use the somewhat dubious facilities. We had a free pick up arranged with our hotel, and they'd asked us to get off on the western side of the river, but of course the bus stopped on the eastern side and everyone piled off, with us just sitting there wondering if we should stay on or not. Looking out of the window, there were numerous moto-taxis holding up signs for hotels, and then I spotted this guy right out our window holding up a sign that said 'George & Bec'.

We had our first experience on motos, luggage and all, and were relieved that staying on without holding the guy around the waist like a tool was actually quite easy, particularly considering I was holding a water bottle and a Pringles (known here as 'Mister Potato Crisps') container in one hand.

We were greeted at our hotel by the Australian owner, who turns out to be from a suburb near to us in Adelaide. Small world. Our room here is not quite up to the standards of our last hotel, but we've got a king size bed, surprisingly enough. In keeping with our usual tradition of missing out or misinterpreting things, it turns out that the 'super fast internet' is actually 'super fast wifi', and since we didn't bring our laptop (stupid! stupid!), we miss out on that too. So we're in an internet cafe with tolerable speeds, but there'll be no photo uploading until we get home, unfortunately.

After we'd settled into our hotel we headed out to get our bearings, which was hardly difficult since this is quite a small and very laid back town. Our first stop was a cafe reputedly owned by bible bashers (found this out afterwards), where we had an iced coffee/chocolate/caramel concoction, which was kind of weird but tasty. It even had coffee ice cubes in it.

After this we went to a rooftop bar in a hotel nearby for a few beers and watched the sun go down, before trying to find a restaurant recommended by the Lonely Planet, which also runs Khmer cooking classes. Once again we missed out, as it was closed for the public holidays, which although only technically on Tuesday and Wednesday, seem to be liberally applied to the entire week. So we went to another small restaurant that had fairly good and very cheap meals, and I finally had a glass of red wine, which I've been missing (even though it was served cold).

After dinner we went back to our hotel and had several beers with the owner (out of Aussie stubbie holders - I had a Ballina RSL Club one) and listened to music and chatted. He's got a huge DVD collection, and later he put on a best of the Late Show CD where I finally learnt the origin of 'like a tiger' (doesn't make sense without hearing it though).

Finally we crashed out and had a very long sleep before going down for vegemite toast for breakfast - vegemite was good, bread was crap, but what can you do.

We then set out on an extended walk of the 'city limits', which took us a total of about an hour, including a stop for a drink on the way. We saw the statue at the entrance to the town, which is a giant god like creature called Dambong, holding some magic stick thing (the bat of Dambong, namesake of the town). We also walked past the governor's residence, a slightly shabby looking old French mansion which must have been very impressive once.

And that's kind of it for our sightseeing around here. We got more fruit shakes from a cafe, then went to a noodle place for a very tasty lunch before this update. Tomorrow we're planning to do a day tour out to the countryside and see some temples and some 'caves 'n' shit', as George says, with moto drivers who speak good English. And if the bloody place ever opens again we'll try to do the cooking class on the day after.

Nothing else to report really - it's two o'clock and we're out of things to do (if you ever come here, maybe only spend two nights in Battambang, not four). I'm sure you can guess where we'll be off to next.

Seeya.

Thrashed out and on the way out

2008-11-11T23:29:00.002+10:30

Knackered. Seriously knackered. It's 8pm and we're back in our hotel. Let me explain.

After an unexpectedly crazy Monday night c/o altruistic Canadians and a complete lack of self control we had a late start and barely managed to hold down breakfast (OK, that's an exaggeration, but I felt poorly). Finally making it out of here around 10.30 we caught the same tuk tuk driver and went to the Royal Palace. His tourist senses must have been sleeping because the damn thing was shut for the public holiday, Silver Pagoda and all. If we'd been less lazy and less desperate for a beer on any other given day we could have gone into it. Oh well.

Having failed (epic) on the Royal Palace thing, we did a lame tourists' walk around the boundary, taking a few snaps through the gates - it is quite a spectacular-looking compound - then went to the national museum which was, luckily, open. That was pretty cool overall, loaded with a bizarre mix of religious iconography and statues coming out of its jaxie.

We'd developed a thirst by then, and not quite ready for the demon drink we stopped in at a fantastic fruit juice/smoothie joint where we downed some much needed dragon fruit and tangerine drinks. Our planned walk took us past the Independence Monument once again, and soon enough we'd ended up at Ph 57, our latest favourite street. We were hunting some bar called 'Gasolina', but needing fuel for the journey we stopped at the Green Mango for lunch.

After an unsuccessful jaunt up part of 57 we returned to the scene of last night's debacle, or the beginning of it anyway, where Bec had initially seen the advertisement for the photo exhibition we'd been looking for. I had a beer and Bec had a passionfruit and Cambodian honey smoothie, which truly rocked, just for sake of appearances, before we headed off again seeking this mysterious Gasolina place.

Despite my misgivings, we continued along 57 well past the known tourist zone and eventually stumbled onto Gasolina, which turns out to be this fantastic garden bar/bed sit/art zone. We'd come specifically to see a photo display called 'Smile Cambodia' which set up 8 or 10 young kids living literally on a landfill in Phnom Penh with cameras and sent them out to document their city. The pics are awesome and incredibly emotive; we'll be buying a few things from them I reckon. I should also mention about the bar itself that seating primarily consisted of massive outdoor covered beds with massive pillows; if we'd arrived earlier I could have been in a lot of trouble.

Having had a Tiger and some crazy Belgian beer we jumped on a tuk tuk and headed to the other side of the city i.e. ours and had drinks at the Raffles-owned Hotel Le Royale, which, as the name suggests, is like something out of a Bond movie. The Elephant Bar, where we drank, is the plushest (and potentially overpriced) joint in town, so we timed our landing to coincide with happy hour - cocktails $4 US or thereabouts; expensive by local standards, but stand-out cocktails.

With motivation waning we stumbled to a German and Swiss restaurant immediately behind the hotel and ate a very German meal - mostly meat. We didn't even finish the one beer we ordered between us and we're now back at the hotel, conveniently close to bed around 8:30.

Tomorrow we're off to Battambang, and I'm looking forward to 4 days of not much at all. We'll report again from there.

Getting an edumacation in Cambodian history

2008-11-11T12:54:00.003+10:30

Yesterday morning we started out bright and early by organising a tuk tuk driver who could take us around to various places and wait for us at each. The hotel reception told us that what we had in mind would cost around $US15, so we went outside prepared to haggle, but to our surprise the first tuk tuk driver we saw said he'd do it for $10. So we immediately agreed to this without any argument and we set off to the Vietnam Airlines office to see if we could have our lost plane tickets from Siem Reap to HCMC replaced (another story).

Our driver had a bit of trouble finding the place and stopped to ask various of his mates if they knew how to get there along the way, but finally we found it only to discover that, although yesterday wasn't a public holiday (today and tomorrow are), the office was closed anyway. So we still don't know how we're going to go with that, but we'll have to wait until Thursday to find out now.

After this our driver took us out to the Killing Fields, about 15km out of Phnom Penh and the site of mass murder by the Khmer Rouge. The centrepiece of the place is a giant enclosed temple with clear glass in the centre encasing hundreds and hundreds of skulls, many of them with gunshots, cracks from beatings with blunt objects and hacking from machetes. It was bloody horrible. The actual site is beautiful, surrounded by trees and lush green grass, but everywhere there are sunken holes where mass graves have been unearthed. There's not much in the way of information there, except for here and there a sign next to a tree stating that it was used for tying up children to beat them, or to rig up a sound device to drown out the sounds of the victim's moans. It was bloody horrible.

When we were leaving our tuk tuk driver told us that he didn't really like going out there because his father had to flee Phnom Penh during the regime because he was a university lecturer and anyone with any education was persecuted.

After this we went to the genocide museum, which was even worse if such a thing is possible. It's at the site of an old school which was converted into a detention centre by the Khmer Rouge and all the old classrooms were used for interrogation and torture. It's been pretty much untouched since and it's a horrible feeling to wander through rooms that saw so much cruelty. There was another room that went through the entire history of the regime, and it's hard to believe that all of this happened in our lifetimes (well, partly in mine - 1975-79). But the worst part for me was the rooms filled with the 'mug shots' of the victims. It was forbidden for them to cry, protest or complain, but you could see the fear and hopelessness in their eyes because they knew what was in store for them.

And then to top it all off when we came out and got back into our tuk tuk we were approached by a beggar who looked like he'd had acid thrown in his face or something, because all his skin was gone and half of his face with it. We didn't give him anything, because you're not really supposed to, but I felt worse than shit as we drove away and shed some tears as we continued on to our next destination.

After this we were in dire need of a beer or 10 to get over this whole experience, so we bid our driver goodbye and, with a bit of difficulty, eventually found a French restaurant recommended by the Lonely Planet Guide. This was definitely the highlight of the day - the food was absolutely awesome and better than anything we had when we were in France! George had a steak that was apparently very tasty, and I had grilled fish, and we also had some great desserts afterwards. Very very good, and highly recommended.

By the time we got out of there it was about 4.30 or thereabouts, so we decided to find a bar and settle in somewhere. Once again we fortuitously turned up right in time for happy hour (75c beers) and, although we'd only intended to be there for a drink or two, we got talking to a dude from Canada who has been working on a community project in Siem Reap with Habitat for Humanity, building houses for the poor. It sounds really interesting and something we might look into doing on our next holiday.

After many beers we stumbled on to another bar that had awesome $3.50 cocktails, so we had a couple of these each before deciding it was probably time to get back to our hotel and crash out (particularly since we hadn't had any dinner after our very big and very late lunch). We're a bit slow this morning, but we've only got a few more things to see today so we're going to take it easy. This is our last day here and we're sorry to leave, because we love it here. Although we loved Vietnam, we've decided that Cambodia kicks its arse all over the place. We were expecting it to be far less developed as a tourist destination than Vietnam, but it's heaps better, and easier, and friendlier, and this city is really beautiful - there's such a big French influence, and some of the boulevards wouldn't look out of place in Paris.

Tomorrow we get a bus to Battambang for another four days, but no doubt we'll check in again before we leave. The internet here might be slow, but it's free, and you can't kick a gift horse in the mouth as one slightly imbecilic person once said.

Seeya

Crashing the nation's biggest party

2008-11-10T12:01:00.002+10:30

We have a knack for interesting timing - we discovered, purely by throngs of people on the streets, a carnival atmosphere and stalls, floats and promos everywhere that yesterday (Sunday) was Cambodia's Independence Day. It's also quickly approaching the water festival which apparently celebrates the reversing of the Mekong's flow.

After we'd finally made it out of here yesterday we somewhat lamely followed the Lonely Planet's walking tour of the city. It took us past some magnificent French colonial buildings and into some intense experiences, such as the city's biggest market, Psar Themei. This outdoor shanty market, leaning onto the sides of a circular indoor market, is a mass of smells, colours and activity, very much for locals. We saw the lot - live water snakes (a.k.a. eels, I'm told), live crabs, bizarre fruit and vegetables etc. It was intensified by the extremely low canvas roof that dropped filth water on my prone noggin and grubby water all over the place. Interesting nonetheless.

We contrasted this experience with the very middle class new shopping mall/centre which was hospital-hygenic next to Psar Themei. It was also entirely lacking in soul and reeked of decadence and ostentatious affluence. Most bizarre was the supermarket itself which seemed to be almost dedicated to baby and youth products, particularly food supplements that will help your baby grow up big and strong. It seems the wealthiest and healthiest Cambodians are either tall, fat or both, and it seems a sign of achievement to be such. I guess the country's history explains this in part; the many wars and genocidal leaders of recent decades have literally decimated the nation's age profile, such that elderly people are extremely few and far between. In fact, most of the elders appear to be monks. There seems to be a 'baby culture' where advertising is targeted very much on one's responsibility to raise healthy (read: big) children. But I digress.

The walk took us past a sculpture and carving sector where there was no end of Buddha statues and other cultural-religious iconography in various stages of construction and took a break with a tasty Khmer lunch at a place called Frizz (owned by an expat called Fritz, if you need an explanation). The culinary discovery of the day was Bec's green mango salad which was so loaded with flavour it could have been a vegetarian schnitzel. It rocked. It was mainly mango, of course, with fresh basil, chilli, dried shrimps and countless tasty herbs. My Khmer crepe rocked but paled in comparison.

We decided to bail from the walking tour following this late lunch and, of course, a refreshing but diverting beer. As a result we skipped the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda until another day and instead tried to find the riverfront by walking down this boulevard that would have been empty if it weren't for literally hundreds of people setting up for an event of some kind. We quickly realised our way was blocked and the river inaccessible and, trying to find our way rapidly back to the well-trodden path ended up once again stumbling through a local-dominated scrub/swamp area that seemed to serve as the back operations for the independence day celebrations. Given our HCMC home invasion experience we made haste, stepping in a filth puddle or two on the way out.

Back on track we finally, and to much relief, made it back to the riverfront bars and restaurant area where we sat at the Pink Elephant for a couple until we realised the best thing about the place was the Engrish-heavy menu, replete with 'testy' dishes. Oh, how could I forget the other highlight - an unused tuk tuk was loaded with young Cambodians which was quickly abandoned when someone apparently dropped their guts, with much laughter and stage coughing. Funny.

We hightailed it back down the Quay a few shops and were astonished by the views afforded by the second floor balcony of the Foreign Correspondents' Club, a Phnom Penh institution. We snagged seats right by the balcony, fortuitously just as happy hour (half price cocktails) began and, to top things off, shortly before fireworks celebrating independence day were set to begin. We got talking with an Aussie and a couple from Siem Reap, our last destination here, and killed time (and brain cells) with tasty cocktails, before the fireworks and happy hour ended at 7. There was also meant to be a boat parade of sorts along the river, with boats all lit up and decked out with Government ministry symbols but apparently they could not make it past the Mekong flow, so we only saw these in the distance, being shoved around by the tide.

After some requisite traffic watching (the thousands of revellers on bikes and in cars turned Sithowath Quay into a one-way street - vehicular democracy in play), we settled back in at La Croissette where we'd quaffed cocktails our first night here. We had a relatively unmemorable dinner (except I had my long-craved cheeseburger) and tried to get a cheap tuk tuk back to the hotel, and ended up walking.

Anyhow, I've gone on long enough and have to talk to a man about a dog. Bec might have a few words. No, she doesn't.

Ciao

Frog legs and curry in a coconut

2008-11-09T14:49:00.002+10:30

That's what we had for dinner last night at a traditional Khmer restaurant (well, traditional in so far as they served traditional food, but it was a fairly upmarket type place and not frequented by locals).

The food was good, although the frog legs looked a fair bit like frog legs and it was hard not to imagine them as live frogs while eating them, but they did, as you would predict, taste a bit like chicken with a slightly fishy character. The coconut fish curry, served in a coconut, is the national dish and was awesome. We also had a plate of our new favourite morning glory, which as usual was really nice.

Before dinner we had 70c beers at a riverside bar, and then after dinner we went to a little supermarket to buy more water, and George was seduced by the $7 bottle of gin, which no doubt will taste like crap and we'll probably not get anywhere near through, especially since the many many bars here are so cool. Speaking of which, we then went to a swanky looking bar for some very nice $3.50 cocktails and had a long chat with a Canadian photographer who worked there at nights 'for something to do'.

After this we walked back to our hotel, and I passed out before George had even got out of the shower (at about 10pm). After our many successive days of 5.30-6am starts, we slept like logs until 8.30 this morning and have since had a very slow start to the day, involving breakfast, organising our bus to Battambang, and washing most of our clothes in the sink. We're making an attempt to upload our photos thus far, but the internet here, albeit free, is probably the slowest in the whole bloody country, so I don't think it's going to happen. Apparently our hotel in Battambang has the fastest internet in the country, so at the least we'll be able to do it there.

Our impressions of Phnom Penh so far are very good. The people are really friendly, and generally have very good English, and they actually walk away when you say 'no thank you' to the balloons, dvds, books, etc that many of them are trying to sell. The city is busy, but without the craziness and chaos of Ho Chi Minh City, and it's quite beautiful as well with all the French and Khmer architecture. There are so many restaurants and bars, and the toilets are clean and have toilet paper, which is a big plus after HCMC!

Anyway, we should probably actually get out and see some of it soon since it's already 11.30 and we haven't done anything yet. I'm sure we'll be checking in again soon since the internet is free and our hotel is so welcoming!

What's another word for 'shemozzle'?

2008-11-08T19:35:00.002+10:30

I could have gone onto a massive tirade about the total cluster f*ck that called itself a 'Mekong cruise' but we've since arrived in Phenom Penh and our hotel is so damn good I almost cried. Anyhow, to the blow-by-blow description of the last few days.

When we last left you we had just written our blog in the tiniest and cheapest internet spot in the South East - it cost 1500 Dong, or about 10c. We went back to our hotel with the air con thankfully back in business, and had a fitful sleep due to a) the air con being a bit crap and b) the ceiling fan - necessitated by the crap a/c - was a noisy bugger of a thing.

The next morning we were awake briefly before a rude banging on the door to make sure we were up for breakfast. We went through the usual shower ritual - that being the ongoing conflict between getting decently clean and not soaking the throne - and had another local ritual, the omelette and bread breakfast.

We walked to the boat, after losing at least one fellow player to 'getting busy with the toilet' and others to general confusion (and complete lack of head count and other sensible tour procedures). The boat then took us to the floating Mekong markets which were actually quite interesting, with mothers and children rowing up to us to sell us stuff (including beer at 8am) and a mission (by others, not me this time) to the loo, requiring us to anchor up to 3 other tourist boats for these Pommie geezers (one of whom is now a bobbie in Adelaide) to go for a slash. The highlight was a freshly cut pineapple, with imperfections cut out and the whole thing perfectly halved as we watched. It was sweet, juicy and delicious.

The boat then took us to a couple of fairly ordinary tourist activities including a rice noodle factory. While I say it was ordinary, it's interesting to note that rice noodles start life as rice paper - cool. The last stop was a rice processing factory which was actually fascinating, if not only because of the utter disdain for anything resembling safety - tourists were just wandering around these fast, loud and bloody dangerous machines with zero safety gear. It's just the way it's done.

Closing out the day's activities, the boat took us back to Can Tho where we had a lot of time to waste before getting back on a bus. We met up with some decent Aussies who took us to a vego restaurant they'd discovered and it rocked my world - all these dishes were superb and it cost 8000 Dong each - about 80c. Crazy. Bec and I then wandered around aimlessly, then decided to look for a supermarket which turned into a mission, and then landed at a very touristy restaurant on the waterfront primarily so I could use the crapper (and can I say that was one of the day's highlights too).

After the requisite time (and, of course, Vietnamese 'rubber time' for good measure) had elapsed we were on another bus (boat tour my pie hole) and this was another debacle, with some people having been told they were on a 'luxury overnight river cruise' which, cramped on a bus, they weren't happy with. Rubber time also wreaked havoc since us Aussies, having sunk a few beers on the bus and prior, were in need of facilities, and we were always 'five minutes' from our toilet break. Eventually we made to the next town and took a small boat across to the floating hotel, which really was just a glorified boat with a few rooms. We had to take a trip back across the river to get cash since the glorifed boat wasn't glorious enough for credit facilities. Cash in hand, we ate a quite decent meal and had a good chat with a few more poms and crashed after a few beers.

This morning we were again up at arse o clock to get on a boat for another contrived tourist thing, firstly to a floating fish farm which was really about as interesting as my armpit (and just as smelly) then to a small village of a Muslim ethnic minority. Frankly this sucked. This group of people seemed to exist only to sell crap to tourists and it seemed no way to live. We were all back on the boat before the guide. The most interesting thing was the gangplank to land that was so damn ricketty it scared the crud out of me.

The rest of the day was on target, a debacle. It turns out the US$10 option we paid for to get a 'fast boat' was ultimately the only option, since all those choosing the slow boat had been asked, repeatedly, for 24 hours, if they wanted to change to the fast. Mysteriously, our fast boat departed very slowly and, after what seemed a pre-determined time, we turned back to pick up the stragglers on the slow boat whose boat had, conveniently, broken down. That said, they seemed to have fixed it the moment everyone was on board our boat. Bloody arseheads. Clearly there was no intent to take two boats and it was all a scam for an additional $US10 each.

The rest of the day was taken up with more boats, buses and confused border crossings, including our knob guide taking Bec's passport then claiming not to have it, leading to a frantic search of the whole stinking boat, just for us to take it from him. Knob.

All that can be brushed aside as our hotel in PP rocks, we're hungry and we're spoilt for choice for dinner. Can't wait, so I won't. Cheers.

Hot and steamy in the Mekong Delta

2008-11-06T23:45:00.003+10:30

It's only been two days but we're already way behind on our reporting - yesterday waking up at 6am and having breakfast at our hotel, we set out to re-explore Ho Chi Minh City. We started at the Ben Than Markets where George bought some long sleeved tops to ward off mosquitos (and probably paid way too much for them too).

Failing any other ideas, we did a mammoth walk to the botanical gardens, which has a zoo in the middle of it. Although we're not generally zoo fans, and the enclosures seemed way too small, the gardens themselves were quite cool, and we saw some absolutely enormous hippos and crocodiles, among other animals.

After this we walked back to our general area, stopping for some pho on the way (meat, vermicelli noodles and lots of fresh herbs and bean sprouts in tasty stock). Being completely buggered from the sun we got an overpriced fruit smoothie in an air conditioned chain coffee shop before recommencing our wandering in an area we hadn't yet explored. This turned out to be a mistake and an experience in itself, as we unintentionally wandered into some very narrow alleyways that were actually people's houses. We were getting some funny looks ranging from confusion to outright hostility (and fair enough since we could see right into their houses), so we got out of there as quickly as we could and went back to touristville for a bracing beer or 4. After this experience we've come to the conclusion that while hanging around the touristy areas seems lame for marginally intrepid travellers, that's actually where the locals want us to be!

After a few beers we went back to our hotel for showers and a quick lie down before heading out for dinner at a kick arse restaurant called Lemongrass. We actually ate there last time we were here but it was so good that we had to go back, and it didn't disappoint. The common staple of a George & Bec holiday is good food, and this place is one of the best anywhere. We started with cold rolls, then moved onto minced prawns on sugar cane, which you wrap in lettuce leaves with lots of basil and vermicelli noodles. We followed this with ginger chicken, steamed fish in a clay pot and sauteed morning glory (a green vegetable that's kind of like Chinese broccoli). It was all so good, and it cost us $US31 - expensive by Vietnamese standards, but you couldn't find anything that good in Australia for that little.

This morning we started bright and early and with a minor fiasco thrown in for good measure. The tour company was supposed to pick us up from the hotel at 7am, and then at about 10 past a guy walked up and gestured to us, looked at our tour voucher and led us to his car out on the street. We were a little confused because we thought it would be the bus that picked us up, but nevertheless we loaded our luggage in the back, got in and were on our way. We'd been driving for about 10 minutes when the guy got a call on his mobile, then drove us back to the hotel. Now utterly confused, we followed him back down to the hotel, where he asked another couple if they were going to the airport. We said that we weren't going to the airport and he just pointed upstairs at the hotel, where the tour guide was waiting for us - somehow this guy (actually a taxi driver) had picked up the wrong people, although god knows what he thought the voucher was that we'd handed him.

So, our problems sorted, the tour bus took us down to the river to the speedboat which took us up the Mekong River for about 3 hours before stopping at a small island where they make honey. There was also a giant python that they handed around for people to have photos taken with, although we declined to get anywhere near the great bloody thing.

We then got on a different boat which took us to a different island where we were shown how to make coconut candy. They also let us try snake wine, which is a revolting alcohol concoction with a dead snake curled up in it. It was gross. After this we were taken down a narrow river channel in rowboats, then got back on the boat and were taken to yet another island, where we had a relatively average lunch followed by some free time to ride around the island on bicycles. We did a bit of this, although as I was paranoid about falling off and getting flattened by a scooter, we didn't go for too long.

The rest of the day was a very long shambles of a boat ride, followed by a bus ride, ferry ride, and another bus ride, and a few aggro tourists mixed in there. We finally arrived at our hotel just before 7 and went out for dinner down by the river. Since we're sweaty and hot and bloody buggered after a 12 hour day, we're now heading back to our hotel at 8.30 to have showers and lie in our air conditioned room preparing for another 6am start tomorrow.

One thing that can be said about these early starts is that we're not drinking anywhere near as much as we usually do - although I think our boat tomorrow will have drinks on board, so I don't know how long that can last!

Ciao

We are here

2008-11-05T11:38:00.002+10:30

Just a quick word from me (Bec) before George requisitions the keyboard.

Returning to Vietnam is kind of like catching up with an old friend you haven't seen for years - you feel kind of anxious, worried that things are going to be awkward and you aren't going to have anything to talk about. But then once you're face to face again it's as if you've never been apart, and you just feel comfortable. And that's what it was like when we arrived in Ho Chi Minh City last night. We were inwardly cringing as we came out of the airport with our bags and the mobs descended on us to convince us to come in their taxi, and we assumed they were all trying to rip us off. But as soon as the taxi turned out of the airport onto the streets teeming with scooters, bicycles and cars, we felt instantly at home again. We're staying in the same neighbourhood as last time and have already reacquainted ourselves with the area.

OK, George's turn now.

Bec's pretty much covered it, and there's not a lot to add about our departure from Sydney and journey here. However, I must say I relished my last Vegemite toast for as much as two weeks, having a slightly hung over light breakfast around the corner from the hotel.

Flights, customs, airports, bathrooms and other facilities were all passable or better. Obviously if there was a way to cover vast distances without flying I'd prefer it, and Jetstar's lack of free, mindless entertaiment does exacerbate that. However it did give me an opportunity to do a record amount of reading (finished one book and got 10% of the way into another...) and some sleeping, which turned out to be quite handy given the time difference ended up having a bit of an impact. Another positive was that we had three seats between the two of us and it rocked not having to climb over some joker every time you went for a slash.

I concur with Bec's comments re returning to HCMC. Notable differences include an entirely remodelled airport, one which worked with remarkable efficiency, a huge amount of roadworks (not a little overdue) and a comprehensive amount of new office space coming up (PCA nerd warning:) - there seems to be a bit of 'green' space coming out of the ground too, and a heap of falling down old buildings are being cast aside for the new generation.

Another unexpected change is that most scooter riders now seem to be heeding legal warnings about wearing helmets. This is great since, despite the Vietnamese being amazingly good riders and drivers, and a traffic system that works almost organically, many people are killed each year in motorcycle and scooter accidents. Ironically though the same law seems to not apply to cyclists who remain at the mercy of all and sundry. Oh well, they know what they're doing.

OK, we need to move on but a quick blow-by-blow on our drinking repetoire for the night. After dropping off our gear (finding the hotel in a small cul de sac behind Pham Ngu Lao) we went for a bearings-seeking walk, which took all of a minute since we recognised sites almost immediately. We also spied the Bia Hoi where we got rained in during a thunderous downpour around this time last year. We had a quiet Tiger at a very Western joint called Allez Boo (we'd drunk there last time too) but the loud, crap R&B (a tautology perhaps?) and smell of spew moved us on. We only had to go a building or two to find another bar, of course full only with Aussies, and had (my foolish choice) a longneck of Tiger each (about a buck each - I adore this place). After that, realising it was about 2am Sydney time, we retired to our room, washed off sweat and plane crud and slept.

The room is tiny and the shower and bogger are virtually on top ofone another but the bed is really comfortable and Han, the proprietor, is one of HCMC's 11 million top blokes (and the place costs <$20 a night). This morning aside from breakfast (very tasty simple egg omelette) we've been watching (or listening to more accurately) Obama's history turn, or so we hope. We're heading out now to pay off our tour tomorrow then hit Ben Than Markets for some decent mosquito armour. No doubt there'll be some beers in there somewhere too.

Next report is most likely to be from the riverbanks of the Mekong. Farewell.

PS. Due to a technical complication - i.e. Optus sucks - mobile phone is not working. Either use the gmail (georgebec@gmail.com) or, if it's genuinely urgent, text Bec.

Killin' time at the airport - edit

2008-11-04T09:10:00.003+10:30

George just farted. In the internet cafe.

That aside, we've had a good time in Sydney and it seems all too soon to be heading for the airport yet again. Yesterday we went to Bondi and had a stroll along the beach, then did the Bondi to Bronte walk, which is a scenic walk along the coast overlooking the ocean. They've got this sculptures by the sea thing going on, so as you go there's all this crazy art, like animals made of wire, and railway tracks curled up into the air. It was weird, but cool. Of course, we'd decided not to bring the sunscreen to avoid the phone-wrecking fiasco of the last holiday, but, being complete idiots, we hadn't thought to actually apply said sunscreen before leaving the hotel. So within two minutes we could already feel ourselves getting frazzled. After we'd finished the walk we stopped for a mango smoothie and a rest in a cafe in Bronte, then got the bus back to our hotel for showers and, thankfully, we weren't too burnt.

Once we'd rested and refreshed we headed out again to Darling Harbour and sat upstairs at a cocktail bar overlooking the harbour and drinking tasty cocktails. It was a really beautiful day and the view was good and the drinks were going down a treat (we managed to last until 4.45pm before starting this time).

Then we got a ferry to Balmain and met John again for a very copious and extremely tasty Indian meal. The restaurant had an amazing $3 corkage, so needless to say George ducked out for a couple of bottles of wine to wash the curries down. We had a very pleasant evening eating and drinking and recalling bad 90s music with the help of John's iPhone.

After this we were too full and buggered to do anything else, so we just got a bus back into the city and went straight to bed. This morning is pretty much a write off, just packing and getting breakfast and finishing this blog before going to the airport to commence the day of hell that lies ahead.

And now I'm editing this post again because we're at the airport and we've got more than an hour to kill before we even get on the plane. Not at all looking forward to being a sardine for the next however many hours, but it'll all be worth it when we get to our destination.

Next report will be from Ho Chi Minh City!

Bec

Day one - Sunny Sydney

2008-11-03T10:33:00.002+10:30

Well, not so much. Sunday, our departure day, was somewhat overcast and miserable. But I'm not paying $2 an hour to talk about the weather. Anyhoo, after an ill-advised big-ish, late-ish night on Saturday we were up and about at sparrow burp and finishing off some very last minute packing. The rest of the morning went pretty much to plan, with the only item of interest on the flight itself being some bag behind us ordering a Bundy and coke at the gentle hour of 9:00am. Amazingly the flight was only 5 minutes late and we stumbled onto the aiport train a collective weary mess. Air travel takes it up the jaxie, that's the summary thus far and we haven't even commenced the 10 hour nightmare tomorrow.

Moving on, we got a train into Town Hall station, having been advised that this was the closest station to our hotel in Ultimo. My limited knowledge of Sydney confirmed this, but alas, I was wrong. We had a galactic mission across sky platforms and chaotic roads, fighting our way through the concrete jungle that is Darling Harbour's conference precinct. When we finally arrived at our hotel, pretty much dripping with sweat and heaving after lugging bloody great bags across this distance, we were dismayed to discover that there was another station far closer. Oh well, if that's the worst thing that happens...

After settling in we quickly began an epic walk that started out as a mission to find lunch. We ate at a little place oddly named Crocodile Senior Thai; it rocked, but it was so damn hot that Bec claims an out-of-body experience. We were also amused by our water bottle, emblazoned with "the happy reading art bear". That breaks my head.

With uncomfortable stomachs we set off along George Street examining the sites of capitalism at its best - there can be no greater concentration of take away and clothes shops in this country. Bec tried her first Krispy Kreme and was suitably disappointed, for an American chain. Damn Yankees.

For want of a plan, we decided to just keep on walking and actually made it the whole way up to The Rocks. It was my plan to get to a great German bar, Lowenbrau, that I'd visited on a previous drunken junket, but our power walking got us to The Rocks far quicker than expected and, surprisingly, we didn't feel like drinking just yet so we settled in at The Rocks Cafe for a coffee. We then did the obligatory tourist thing and took photos of the Opera House from across the Quay and then walked under the Bridge, passing countless meringues (AKA brides) looking resplendent (read: ostentatious) and a groom in a gangster-mode white suit, complete with white rose in lapel. Bloody joker.

The need for a drink began to develop and, knowing the area slightly from our Bridge Climb a few decades ago, began looking for The Lord Nelson Hotel. Failing to find it we slumped into the Lowenbrau where we had echos of our Europe tour with steins (mass) of awesome beer.

I'm being given hints that I'm going overboard with details, so here's the wash up: George got drunk and silly, we caught up with John Lam and hit more beers at the Lord Nelson then The Australian Hotel, where we had fabulous pizzas (at least in my drunken state they seemed fabulous) and left a bit worse for wear. Bec had to get us back to the hotel with me leaning on her the whole way and constantly restating my need for ablution facilities. Needless to say we made it and despite being stuffed I stayed up to watch Rupert Murdoch crapping on about something. Actually, I tell a lie; I was apparently asleep in 5 minutes.

Today we're heading out to Bondi to take a long walk along the coast up to Bronte Beach. We've had a suitably slow morning including the requisite greasy breakfast. That said, we actually did exercise this morning!

Must go, today is looking beautiful weather-wise, and sitting downstairs is depressing me. See you on the other side, probably from Ho Chi Minh City.

George

We're off again!

2008-10-28T17:13:00.002+10:30

It's ironic to read our last post on this blog saying that 'one day' we planned to return to Vietnam and possibly Cambodia, and here we are a year later preparing to do just that!

I'll keep this brief, because pre-holiday posts are the most boring in the world, but we're departing Adelaide this Sunday 2 November and heading to Sydney for a couple of days. Then we fly to Ho Chi Minh City and stay for a couple of nights before taking a three day/two night tour along the Mekong Delta, which will end with us being taken over the border into Cambodia and dropped in Pnomh Penh, the capital.

From here we depart from our usual hectic holiday schedule of two days in every place - we stay in PP for four days, then we'll get a bus up north to Battambang, a former French colonial town and the second biggest city in Cambodia. After four days in Battambang we'll get a boat along what's supposed to be the most scenic river trip in the country to Siem Reap, home to Angkor Wat, one of the most beautiful temples in the world.

We'll spend another four days in Siem Reap, and then we depart on the trip home from hell - we fly Siem Reap to Ho Chi Minh City, HCMC to Darwin, Darwin to Sydney, then Sydney to Adelaide.

It was tempting to try to fit in as many places as possible, but we've decided instead to focus on just a few and just do day trips and tours, and hopefully some more active stuff, like walking and bike riding.

So look out for our posts from this Sunday until 21 November when we arrive home!

Cheers
George & Bec

Homeward bound

2007-10-13T19:53:00.000+09:30

It is with a tinge of regret amidst great anticipation that we make our final entry of the holiday. In three hours' time we'll be on the plane home with 13-14 hours of travel ahead, and the comfort of our own home awaiting us. Far at the back of our minds is the prospect of returning to work and all the drudgery that accompanies it, but even the idea of getting back into a routine seems somewhat attractive after two months of free days and afternoon drinking (I know, it sounds great when you put it like that, but you really do get sick of it after a while).

Anyway, picking up where we left off, we got up bright and early yesterday to go to the meeting place for our 12 hour tour to the Mekong Delta, but unfortunately George came down with a brief but intense bout of the Saigon belly and we decided to give it a miss and hung out in the hotel for a few hours until he recovered. After this, we walked to the Jade Emperor Pagoda, which turned out to be quite a mission, as it was a pretty big walk, our dodgy fake Lonely Planet guide has very confusing maps, and it was damn hot on top of that. Another weird thing about this place - the street vendors who sell big bottles of water to passing travellers seem to have two (or possibly three) sets of price signs that they interchange according to how hot it is at the time. This morning, for instance, it was really hot again and we tried to find the place we usually get 1.5 litre bottles for 5,000 dong (about 33 cents), but every stall had signs up for 8,000 instead (I know, I know, it's about 10 or 20 cents difference, but it's the principle). When we were walking back in the afternoon just after it had rained and cooled down, the price had miraculously changed back to 5,000.

Anyway, we eventually found the pagoda, which was cool but probably not really worth the walk, and then walked back to the main area and had a very tasty lunch at what turned out to be a particularly fancy Vietnamese restaurant (and still only cost us about $30). After this we were at a bit of a loss as to what to do, and after the previous day of excessive beerage, we decided to head back to the hotel for a 'rest' before dinner, which turned out to be the rest of the night lying on the bed and watching crap on TV and reading.

This morning we stuffed around until check out at 12, using the gym here in attempt to get back into an exercise routine, packing and stuff, then spent the rest of the afternoon shopping at the Ben Than markets, getting caught in yet another downpour, and having lunch and a few beers. Now we're back at the hotel filling in time until we get our taxi to the airport.

Despite our initial reluctance to even be here, we've quite enjoyed Vietnam and intend to come back one day and do some more travelling to Hanoi and possibly into Cambodia (eventually...). You hear so many accounts of journalists and photographers who worked here during the war and despite the atrocities they saw they can't stop themselves from coming back again and again (just listen to the words of Khe Sanh), and now I can kind of understand it. There is something about this place, despite the filth and poverty. Everyone is so friendly (despite just trying to get their hands on our money), a huge contrast from the generally abrupt if not rude service we experienced in most of Europe without noticing it. The main downside is that the people treat white people like royalty simply because we have so much money, and that is quite uncomfortable for people who simply want to experience the place and not get treated so differently. There are literally people employed at every restaurant simply to open doors for people, and they hang around near your table waiting for the slightest sign of you needing something.

The chaos is very disconcerting at first, but that also becomes kind of addictive after a while. Crossing even the smallest street was terrifying on the first day or two, but now we've learnt how to do it properly (look down at the street, walk very slowly, even yawning helps, and all the motorbikes just weave around you - it you try judging the traffic by looking up or walking too fast, you're bound to stuff up and have someone screech to a halt in front of you, or worse, flatten you) we make any excuse to cross a road just because it's fun.

Well, that wraps up our Vietnam experience and the end of our holiday...we leave here in about 15 minutes and it's all over. Thanks all who've been reading and enjoying, and we'll see you all soon.

Cheers
Bec & George

This place is f#cking crazy!

2007-10-12T00:21:00.000+09:30

Saigon...sh*t...

The immortal words of Martin Sheen in Apocalypse Now. They begin to make sense. This place is seriously insane. But awesome. But uncontrolled and zany. But fun. You get the idea. Basically, it's the kind of place you either fall madly in love with, or leave with your tail between your legs. Personally, I'm planning a return visit.

OK, so with the hyperbole aside, we spent our first day here doing the sights. A lot of this was, admittedly, forgettable, but the War Remnants Museum was amazing for its 180 degree view on everything we consider common knowledge e.g. the VC were national heroes (to us, 'war criminals'), the war was one of invasion (as opposed to 'opposing communism') and the brutality of war crimes the actions of patriots. But all that aside, this country has proudly become more than it hoped to after countless years of imperial repression, and is basking in its unique embrace of capitalism in a socialist guise.

Where was I? Oh yeah...after we were done with our wandering we collapsed into the rooftop bar of the Sheraton Hotel where we enjoyed spectacular views of the sun going down and half-price cocktails. We then indulged in our first bowl of pho, Vietnam's answer to the lamb sandwich. It's little more than meat and noodles in stock (with herbs and bean sprouts) but super tasty.

It was following this meal that we had our first run in with the Vietnamese wet season - dear God, when it rains here, nature doesn't stuff around. Anyhow, soaking wet we stumbled into the nearest dry place, which turned out to be called 'Guns 'n Roses Bar'. No points for guessing what music was playing. After a few beers and atrocious games of pool we braved the weather back to our hotel (about 20m down the street).

Yesterday, after a belated start due to my thinking I'd contracted chronic fatigue syndrome from the water, we continued our walk around the city, including Ben Than Markets and the (very filthy) river, then basically resigned ourselves to food and booze at a fantastic little place called The Goldfish. After what turned out to be half price beers, we were inspired to find the famed 'bia hoi', super-cheap draught beer sold by the litre. Having struck a rapport with the Goldfish staff, we were directed to the local swilling pit, where we not only indulged in litres of beer for less than $1 each, but also entertained the locals by my headbutting the door jamb of the very dubious bogger (the worst toilet in Scotland; an achievement for Vietnam). A staff member saw it happen and, after expressing requisite concern, nearly died laughing.

With 5 litres of this bia hoi to carry around in our stomachs we once again got caught in rain and, after some getting lost and extensive pointless debate, crashed out.

Today we actually got off our arses and saw the countryside. We took a boating tour out to the Cu Chi tunnels, famed for absolutely bollocking the Yankies during the Vietnam (read: American) War. It was amazing, but also disturbing, to hear all the stories we are so familiar with told from the completely different perspective. A highlight, but also one of the most terrifying things we've ever done, was to crawl through some of the tunnels that were home to VC for weeks, if not months or years. It was all f*cked up. We got out early, and were very grateful for the escape. There was literally not enough room to turn around in these tunnels; we were told to walk hunched over, but I ended up on hands and knees. Not good.

On our return we enjoyed another feed of pho, then settled in at a bia hoi bar, shortly before the skies opened up. The beer and the torrents down the street were ample entertainment until we decided to brave the short sprint back to our hotel and the pikers' dinner at our hotel restaruant. The run home was made all the more exciting by the fact there was no way of avoiding wet feet. The water was literally two feet deep at some points, and it took all my moral fortitude to wade through the filthy flood barefoot. Yuck. Needless to say, we have since showered and disinfected.

Another tour approaches very early tomorrow, so we depart. Farewell.

Fading fast in Ho Chi Minh

2007-10-08T12:19:00.000+09:30

We've just arrived in Ho Chi Minh City and are both feeling rather messed up from a combination of way too long away from home, it being about 4am in our bodies but 10am here, and no sleep since 6am yesterday morning. We arrived at 7 o'clock this morning and thankfully our hotel will allow us to check in at 10 rather than the usual 2pm, so we're only 10 minutes away from showers and a change of clothes.

We're both finding it difficult to get fired up about acquainting ourselves with yet another city, especially one as crazy as this. Our taxi driver informed us on the way to the hotel that there are 10 million people in this city, and I think every one of them was on the roads this morning. Most people ride around on scooters (no helmets of course) and no one looks where they're going. From our short walk around we've already learnt that you don't look when you cross the road, you just look down at the road, grit your teeth and walk across. They do make way but it's very frightening.

We've booked five nights here but we're already considering seeing if we can change our flights to a couple of days earlier - it's probably not possible, but it's such a good thought to get home a few days earlier than planned that we want to try!

If not, we'll make the best of our time here. We're considering doing a full day cooking course including a morning visit to the Ben Thanh Market, which is close to our hotel. We decided to buy a guide book this morning because we know literally nothing about the city, so we got a Lonely Planet guide from a stall on the street, and of course it is a dodgy photocopy inside a glossy cover. Oh well. We're too buggered and indifferent to complain, so we'll just count it as one more stupid bastard tourist mistake. Other than this we'll probably just roam the streets and drink cocktails and beer (not much different from anywhere else really).

I can't even be bothered looking up the Vietnamese word for goodbye even though we got a 'free' phrasebook with our guidebook.

Seeya

On the countdown

2007-10-06T22:12:00.000+09:30

We are literally into our last day in Europe. I can't believe it's gone so fast.

We are now in Amsterdam, but our final day in Berlin consisted of a panicked rush to meet a walking tour group that we'd already booked and paid for. We caught it after multiple train changes and much swearing. This was a good thing as the tour was really good, taking in most of the key sites and giving a quick overview of Berlin's amazing history. When the tour was over, we went back over a few sites we didn't look at properly before, and now I can't remember what else we did.

On the final night of our stay in Berlin, we found our way to the Brandenburg Gate where a major concert thing was being set up. We assumed it was to do with the national holiday celebrating the re-merging of the two Germanys, but it turned out to be a Coke 'new band competition' type thing. All the same, it was good. Getting there was bizarre - we followed the hordes around a series of blockaded roads and finally found our way into the parklands where the event was being held, only to be looking back on where we'd started. We got stuck into some potent punch, watched a few bands and left before it got too chaotic - there were probably hundreds of thousands of people there. We had a classy dinner at an American grill where we got treated to free dips, marshmallows to melt over a hibachi-style cooker and a postcard that they sent on for us. Very nice.

After another 6 hour train ride (our last) we found our way to our Amsterdam hotel which turns out to be a complete bog hole, run by a grumpy tosser. Needless to say we've been spending as little time as possible there. We had dinner at a pizza joint and pretty much crashed out.

Yesterday we spent just walking. This city is sometimes called 'the Venice of the north', and it is fitting, although it's more busy in a more city-like way than Venice. We took a cruise along the canals which was made all the more enjoyable by a crotchety old captain with a cutting wit and heavy dose of sarcasm. We got into the beers pretty much straight after that, resulting in my post-dinner stumble in the middle of a main road. I have scabs on hands and knees as evidence.

Today we went through Anne Frank's house (thanks for the recommendation, Tracy) which was thorougly moving having just read the book and also having experienced plenty more Holocaust and war history in recent weeks. In the wind up of the European leg of our trip, we will now discover a few more beers and say farewell to Amsterdam in the most appropriate way.

Next report from Vietnam!

Two days in Berlin

2007-10-03T01:06:00.000+09:30

This will have to be a quick entry as we have only 12 minutes left of internet time.

This is our second full day in Berlin and so far we've both loved it. It's a very cool city with a laid-back vibe and plenty of friendly people.

Yesterday we took a train out to the Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp, which was an interesting experience. Unfortunately all the museums were closed to we just wandered around the camp and marvelled at all that had gone on there in the past. It was a little sobering.

We then went back into the city and walked around for a while. We found this really weird area where there were numerous grey blocks of stone at various sizes but with no explanation of what it actually was (this morning we learned it was a Jewish holocaust memorial and that the lack of signage was intentional). Later we finally succumbed to a meal of Indian curries followed up by a few cocktails at a weird Incan bar before an early night.

This morning we went on a three hour walking tour of Berlin, which was quite interesting. We walked about five kilometres and saw all the main important areas of the city and we both learnt a lot we didn't know about the city's rather colourful history.

After this we wandered back to a few places we didn't spend much time at on the tour, like the biggest remaining section of the Berlin wall, had some lunch and here we are. Heading back to the hotel for a rest before we head out for the evening.

Gotta go.

More beer, more beer, more beer, more beer...

2007-10-01T01:03:00.000+09:30

That pretty much sums up our experience at the Oktoberfest yesterday. We report, much the worse for wear, from Berlin where we have just arrived after 6 hours on a train. I've had a headache for 24 hours straight and there are no pharmacies open on Sundays and no pain killing drugs available in supermarkets.

Our first day in Munich was, to put it frankly, a bit shit. It poured with rain all day long and it was bitterly cold. After becoming drenched in 10 minutes of rain, we eventually procured umbrellas and headed into the city to check things out. With the weather the way it was, it was difficult to experience much of what had been recommended to us in Munich - all the beer gardens were closed, walking around looking at the sights or seeing parklands was pretty useless, so we were restricted to shopping for Birkenstocks and going to the Augustiner Bierhalle, both of which we pulled off with some success.

The rain actually did stop in the late afternoon, so we mastered yet another metro system and went to find a jazz bar recommended by our trusty Lonely Planet guide. Unfortunately the jazz bar appeared to have been replaced by an expensive looking Italian restaurant, so we salvaged some part of the evening and ducked into another bar, which although completely empty other than staff and with pretty bad music, was actually relatively cool. A few drinks later we decided to call it a night without dinner considering we'd had a big lunch.

As something of a miracle yesterday ended up being superb weather-wise, so we boarded the tram and followed the hoards to the Oktoberfest. At first we just wandered around marvelling at the sheer size of the place, watching crazy drunk dudes on suicidal fair rides and perving on buxom wenches and cute boys in tight lederhosen.

We attempted to get into a few of the larger bier halls, but found enormous lines to get into all of them, so we contented ourselves with the smaller and slightly more sedate Paulaner hall, where we were able to get standing room to begin our day of drinking. The first beer went down remarkably quickly and we wisely decided to order some food before things got too messy. Several sausages, roast pork and potato dumplings later we braved the outside beer garden (again, standing room only) and soaked up the sun for what turned out to be a huge afternoon.

We were quickly befriended by a group of Germans from Dusseldorf who took a liking to us and asked us all sorts of questions about Australia and insisted on us teaching them an Australian beer song. They couldn't have been more delighted with the lyrically complex 'more beer, more beer, more beer, more beer...' etc and the rowdy renditions went on for several minutes at a time, always followed up with the magical refrain of 'Aussie Aussie Aussie! Oi oi oi!' It was kind of embarrassing but pretty funny.

The afternoon passed in a daze and I remember very little of it other than that every time I came back from the toilet I had a new beer. I think other people were buying us beers, because this morning we had quite a lot of money left over, which shouldn't happen when you're drinking 1 litre steins at €7.70 each.

Somehow we found our way out and back to the tram, where I continuously dropped my water bottle on the ground. On one of these occasions as I bent to pick up the bottle for the millionth time, the tram doors opened and I was surprised to discover myself sitting on my arse outside the tram. Yes, I fell out of a tram. Luckily the other passengers' amusement and my embarrassment only lasted until the next stop, where we were actually supposed to get off. I guess it would have been more appropriate if I'd fallen out there instead.

Neither of us remember anything of getting back to the hotel, but some time later we woke up lying on the bed in the dark fully clothed. In a bit of a daze and wondering what had happened, we got undressed and got in bed, and it was only as we were trying to work out what time to set the alarm for the following morning that we found to our surprise that it was only quarter past eight. Not really being up for dragging our sorry arses out to find some dinner, George went down to reception and ordered us a dodgy pizza, which I am quite sure saved my life. We very quickly passed out again, only to wake up this morning with headaches and foggy heads to make our way to the train station once again.

It's too early to have any real impression of Berlin yet, as so far we've just walked around trying without success to find me some drugs. We'll probably just have a quiet dinner and an early night, and I'm quite sure mine at least will be alcohol free for only the second time in the last 6 weeks...

Auf weidersehen

Prague - a tale of excess

2007-09-28T18:51:00.000+09:30

Prague nearly did me in. Well, to be frank, an excess of beer and a heavy dose of stupidity nearly did me in. When we last left you, we were about to head off for a beer tour of the city. Of course, with a bit of time to kill, we cleverly decided a few warm up brews were necessary. Coincidently ending up in the same bar at which we'd swilled tequila and Bloody Maries the night prior, we got stuck into the steins and were already ticking over when we met the tour group at the Wenceslas Square statue. The tour took us to five pubs, of which I only really remember three. We had a meal at one, tried some scary schapps-like stuff at another, and my night effectively ended with a couple of shots of absynthe, reputedly 70% alcohol.

Needless to say, the next day I was poorly but we still had to see the sites. We made it to the Astronomical Clock for the great anti climax of it chiming, we crossed the Charles Bridge, which was beautiful despite teeming with tourists, and took a big walk around the Prague Castle. We rounded out the day with a traditional Czech lunch and some shopping for warmer clothes, then went out for dinner at a very pleasant pub-restaurant. Here we tried hot apple punch which, unfortunately, was loaded with rum and smelled like diesel with a splash of apple juice. We also discovered that there's a drink called 'grog' but were disappointed to learn that it is simply rum with hot water. Yuck.

Our train journey to Munchen was uneventful apart from a pile of drunken, lederhosen-wearing Germans piling into the first class cabin with us half an hour from our destination. Despite it being the end of the day, they put Australian drinking records to shame - a few girls passed around a few bottles between them and surely would have knocked over two bottles in that short journey.

Last night we had the mixed pleasure of our first beer garden experience, mixed because despite the food and beer being really good, the 8,000 or so seats in the beer garden itself were deserted due to inclement weather. Nevertheless, the meat-meat-meat spectacular I had was good, and, apart from a deceptively-named dunkel weiss bier (not a fan of wheat beer), the beer was cracking. The service was also good; the waiter had a good laugh at us struggling to read the all-Deutsch menu and eventually took pity, saying "why didn't you ask for an English menu?". Duh.

Today the weather is abject poo. On the way to writing this little diatribe we went to four venues seeking an umbrella, which we have now secured. However, the persistent rain is dampening many plans; a recommended free walking tour of Munich is looking unlikely, and beer gardens more so, especially given that I feel like my stomach has recently turned into a rusty spin dryer. Regardless we will go out again shortly and tackle the day, saving energy for the Oktoberfest (and maybe the AFL Grand Final) tomorrow.

Horses, beer and gothic towers

2007-09-26T01:28:00.000+09:30

I'm going to begin by saying that I want a Lipizzaner...

The performance by the Lipizzaner stallions at the Spanish Riding School was absolutely awesome and worth every cent of the very expensive ticket prices. The venue itself was almost opera-esque - gallery seating on two levels looking down on the arena, and we had the perfect seats - on the lower level, about 3 metres above the ground and right in the centre of the long side of the arena.

Bear with me while I go through the highlights for me - they probably won't make a whole lot of sense to anyone who hasn't ridden horses for half their life, but I need to record them before they disappear from my memory. Unfortunately we weren't able to take any photos of the performance, and although everyone had cameras, they all obeyed the rule so I did too. I now regret that because all we have are several photos of the empty arena, but at least they are proof that we were actually there.

The first part of the performance was a group of eight young stallions still in training and performing fairly basic dressage movements. The mere fact that there were eight young stallions in the same confined space was interesting enough in itself, as some of them were absolutely exploding with hormones and a few 'mistakes' were made. It was then that the brilliance of the riders first became apparent - despite the antics of these very strong and exciteable young horses, the riders remained calm, quiet and with the softest hands you can imagine.

After this came a group of four of the mature stallions who performed more advanced movements that easily outstripped the abilities of the top international Grand Prix dressage horses, who are usually pushed beyond their abilities too quickly and eventually break down. These horses were almost perfectly calm and well behaved, supple and fit and performed all of the movements with no restraint or stiffness. This was followed by a team of two horses that performed similar movements in mirror image of each other, including some amazing feats such as simultaneous canter pirouettes around one another.

After this came the group of horses in ground training (all the horses are taught the movements from the ground first and then in the saddle with a rider), and this was where we saw the 'airs above the ground', the movements that most people come here for. These included the levade, a controlled rear which takes an enormous amount of strength from the horse, the capriole, which involves the horse rearing, then launching himself into the air and kicking out behind so that for a moment he is suspended horizontally in the air, and another movement that I can't remember the name of, where the horse rears and then leaps forward for two or three bounds on his hind legs.

This was followed by a single horse in long reins with the handler guiding the horse from the hindquarters. This was also cool because it was very difficult to tell how the handler was cueing the horse to perform each movement.

After this they brought out the big guns - the fully mature and trained horses performing the airs above the ground with riders, who incidentally do not use stirrups at all. This was amazing in itself, as the rider is sitting on a saddle almost completely vertical, with no stirrups while the horse leaps along, and the whole time his hands remained soft in the horse's mouth. I hate to think how many times these riders have bad falls before they master this.

The finale was my favourite - eight fully trained, mature stallions performing precision drill-style dressage literally nose to tail. It wasn't the most spectacular part of the performance but to see the happy, eager look on the horses' faces, their calm disposition and the effortless ease with which they performed was an absolute pleasure. On top of this, I saw the best riding I've ever seen in my life, particularly by the leading rider, who was an old guy in his 50s with a rather large paunch, but who had the softest hands I've ever seen. His horse was the calmest and most picture-perfect dressage horse you could image. I couldn't take my eyes off him for the whole performance.

Now I've got that out of my system I'll let George give you his interpretation of the performance from a non-horse person perspective, and he can also fill you in on our activities since we've been in Prague.

Hello, 'tis me. Not once did I think of the Spanish Riding School visit as "Bec's thing" as I was sure I'd find it interesting. In fact, I even quite enjoyed the Lipizzaner museum, particularly watching amazing video of these horses leaping in the air and kicking their hind legs out behind them, in an ancient battle technique called 'the capriole.' Seeing the capriole live is what I came to be excited about, but it turns out the whole show was more amazing than I could have imagined. The sheer control of both riders and horses - not necessarily one over the other, but in general - was staggering. To see, right in front of you, a guy of your size and weight, sitting on a horse as it jumps 3 to 5 steps on its hind legs, or leaping in the air and kicking out at an invisible opponent, is simply dazzling.

The 'slow' bit that Bec really enjoyed was as enjoyable to me; if you can imagine the Holden Precision Team driving independent, strong-willed animals within an inch of death, then you've got the idea. It's not necessarily as dangerous, but Bec is not joking when she says 'nose to tail.' It was beyond perfect. These horses and riders have obviously put in so much time and practice you cannot but be impressed. I literally had hairs standing up on the back of my neck.

Anyhoo, after the riding school we decided to wind down at a few Heurigen houses. Unfortunately it was a mission to get there and back as one section of the normally superb subway line was down, necessitating no less than four changes. We made it in the end and enjoyed sturm ('new' wine that is not entirely fermented, leaving it sweet, slightly effervescent and looking like cloudy apple juice) at one Heurigen house at which we were in danger of being hit by falling chestnuts. We moved to another that had sold out of sturm (it is a rare treat, available only in September of each year, making us very lucky) but we had a wine and a pretzel and watched a Wednesday-doppelganger cat eat and wash. Finally we settled at a place which turned out to have a great buffet and plenty of sturm. We sat outside and I ate until I literally felt sick, making the five trains home quite a debacle.

The train trek to Prague the next day started in a first-class cabin shared with Kiwis (one of whom looked strikingly familiar). We got kicked out of first as our ticket from Breclav to Prague technically didn't allow it, then spent our first hours in the Czech capital trying to resolve issues such as IPods left in Vienna, extremely bad hair and unsuitable shoes. Achieving some of these, we rewarded ourselves by meeting Tom again, as well as Sarah and Matt (Bec works with Sarah) and hitting the booze in a big way. Tom, in his inimitable style, had met a lovely young Mexican lass called Jennifer in Barcelona and brought her along as well, meaning we had a great team to celebrate his 30th birthday in this most magnificent of cities.

We celebrated with a butt-kicking dinner near the famed Astronomical Clock, which of course involved pant-loads of beer, and drinks at a little bar on the way back to respective hotels (tequila slammers and Bloody Maries with double vodka were involved).

With limited memories of last night, Bec and I met Tom again late this morning and climbed the Powder Tower which gave great views over Prague and a coming rain storm. Farewelling Tom, we scoffed some dodgy local vendor food and headed off to shop for clothes on the cheap. With some success, and the rain pelting down, we ducked into the first available bar, which by coincidence was the same as we'd indulged in various spirits the night prior. And that, two and a half litres of beer later, brings us to now.

Tonight we're copping out to the tour thing and seeing traditional beer halls and the like. I personally can't wait. Until next time.

Prost!

Guten Tag from Vienna

2007-09-23T01:35:00.000+09:30

Forgot to mention in our last post that one of the benefits of the super long and mostly drunken train ride here was that it was our first journey that we could actually see substantial changes in the landscape along the way. It was also by far the most scenic trip yet, going between mountains covered with pine trees and tipped with snow, and through valleys that looked as well tended as a golf course but were complete wilderness.

The contrast of what we´ve seen of this whole country thus far with dirty, disorganised Rome is amazing. Everything here is absolutely immaculate and clean, even the metro stations and public toilets! The traffic is sedate and polite, the drivers readily give way to pedestrians, and the whole pace of this place is slower and more relaxed. You´d hardly guess it was such a big city until you try to walk all over it, like we did.

After our last post we were surprised to discover (particularly after our experience in Spain and Italy with the siesta) that none of the restaurants nearby were open at quarter past nine. So we decided that we weren´t really hungry anyway and skipped dinner altogether in preference of an early night.

The following morning we availed ourselves of the very generous and excellent breakfast here - at last, no more overly sweet pastries and cake. There were some other bizzare additions, such as cold meats, brie and swiss cheese, bread rolls and savoury dips, as well as the usual bread, eggs, bacon, cereal, yoghurt, etc. Surprisingly the coffee here is quite good too, even from an automatic machine, and far better than anything we had in Italy. OK, I´ll stop talking about food now.

After breakfast we started our tour of the city, checking out some of the numerous churches and palaces. The highlight was a quick tour of the catacombs beneath St Stephen´s Place, which displayed old statues that had been removed from the outer of the church as well as some more grisly scenes, such as centuries old bones stacked like firewood in individual rooms.

We also went into the Lipizzaner Museum, which chronicles some of the history of the Spanish Riding School as well as the care and training of the Lipizzaner stallions that perform in the show we´ll be seeing tomorrow. Now I´m even more excited about going.

Other than that we just walked absolutely everywhere in our usual pattern, came back to the hotel for a too-short rest before heading out to a restaurant recommended in the Lonely Planet guide. It was called the "Gulaschmuseum", and suprisingly enough it served numerous different goulashes, including a chocolate dessert one, which we unfortunately couldn´t possible consider trying after our enormous main courses.

Today we mastered the metro system and did a little less walking. We went to the Hapsburg´s summer palace, a gargantuan palace with 1440 rooms and set on an enormous estate. We didn´t go inside but went for a big walk around the gardens, climbed a monument with a great view of the palace and grounds as well as a good bit of the city, then got ourselves lost in the maze. After this we had a tasty lunch at a cool jazz bar and were served by a grumpy cow of a waiter who wouldn´t even look at us when we spoke to her. She got no tip for her troubles.

Then we went to the House of Music, which was this bizarre interactive museum type thing where you could learn more about the theories of sound and music through a series of hands-on auditory experiments. It was weird.

Tonight we´re heading out to find an area of Heurigen, wine houses that serve their own wine fermented on the premises and are apparently very cool.

Not sure if I mentioned that tomorrow we´re going to the Spanish Riding School...?

Auf weidersehen.

An addition - kind of important

2007-09-21T03:24:00.000+09:30

Bec´s post covered everthing we´ve done and the magnificence of Vienzia very well BUT...

I must add, after an unforeseen sunscreen leakage, my phone is - to use a highly technical term - stuffed. If you need to contact me, please message (or in an emergency phone) Bec on 0412 411 081.

Chairs.

The G Man (yes, I´m pissed).

Three days in Venice is nowhere near enough

2007-09-21T02:04:00.000+09:30

You see it in movies, you read about it, you see photos, but still nothing prepares you for the wonders of Venezia (Venice). It is absolutely amazing. Part of you thinks that maybe it's not actually real, and actually I'm still not sure if it is.

There's something completely surreal about wandering around streets where there are no cars, no scooters, no bicycles, no ambulances, no police cars. The roads are canals and the emergency services, taxis, buses and general transport are all via boat. It's an amazing place - the most unique place we have ever seen, and probably ever will see, again.

The reason we haven't written sooner is twofold - firstly, we've been so enthralled with Venice that we haven't been able to stop long enough to bear going inside as opposed to roaming around endlessly, getting ourselves lost and finding where we are again, and secondly because internet cafes were 7 euros an hour as opposed to the 2 euros an hour we've become accustomed to.

We stayed in an apartment, which was surprisingly cheaper than a hotel room, and it was so good to be able to cook real food again (especially considering Venice is the most expensive city in Italy). Our first day we walked around for a bit, found Piazza San Marco and the Rialto Bridge, then went to the supermarket and bought up big on beer, wine, and groceries. You can't imagine how good it is to cook again after eating out at least once a day for more than a month - all we made was pasta with tomato sauce, chilli and basil and it was one of our best meals of the holiday! That's probably an exaggeration, but it really was such a relief that we couldn't get enough of it.

The following morning, after three weeks of croissants and sweet crap for breakfast, we had scrambled eggs, proscuitto and toast, followed by yoghurt and all bran and it rocked. We also made our own coffee, which, sadly, was better than the majority of the coffee we've had all over Europe (another realisation - coffee in Australia is actually better than in Italy).

That day we pretty much wandered all day with our mouths hanging open in amazement. We started by booking our train to Vienna, then we went to the ghetto which was the place that the Venetian Jews were forced to live before they were herded to their deaths at concentration camps. It was just a square, but it was kind of moving as well - there were plaques and you could kind of picture what it would have been like to live in a trapped community. At some stage we went back to our apartment and had leftover pasta for lunch (yum), then we set out again with the intention of getting purposely lost. We tried to get to some public gardens and then there was a huge thunderstorm and it pissed down with rain. We sheltered under an awning for a while waiting for it to stop, then eventually gave up and tried to walk out anyway. Finding that the rain was much heavier than we'd thought, we stopped under a canopy until the sun came out and the rain almost stopped and we ventured out again. As if all this wasn't enough, we were then pelted by huge pellets of hail, at which time we were luckily in front of a cafe, so we went in for a beer. Here we stayed for an hour or more talking to a fellow Australian who was also stranded there until the rain cleared up. By then the rain seemed to be gone for good so we headed back to our apartment, stopping on the way to buy some fish for dinner. Predictably, while we were in the supermarket it again started pissing down, but knowing we were close to home we decided to brave it anyway. Bunches of locals were lining the streets under awnings and laughing at us as we ran up the street in the pouring rain getting completely drenched, but we made it to our apartment for nice hot showers and a fantastic dinner of roast potatoes, salmon with lemon butter sauce and rocket and cherry tomato salad. Sound good? It was fantastic and it cost us about 5 euros.

We had originally intended to hit the town that night, but the rain persisted and we were so comfortable that we just stayed in and had a quiet one.

The next day (yesterday) we got up early and rushed down to San Marco Square (the biggest tourist area in Venice - a huge square with beautiful architecture and a massive church surrounding it). I was dubious about the lack of tourists but there was hardly anyone there and the morning sun was so beautiful, so we took shitloads of photos and eventually headed very slowly back to our apartment for breakfast, photographing all the way. We had another great breakfast of friend eggs on toast and cereal, then spent hours on the water bus to go to Lido, an island off Venice. Unfortunately Lido was a bit poo, with the promised beaches being rather crap. We salvaged the trip by having relatively good pizzas for lunch (our first paid meal in Venice), then we got back on the boat and went back to the mainland, walked through the gardens we'd missed the day before, then went back to the apartment for a bit of a rest.

After our big lunch we skipped dinner and finally went out to catch a bit of the Venice nightlife. We went to a swanky bar first where we were conducted to a table by a blonde woman who looked more like a hooker than a waitress and bought overpriced drinks and waited for half an hour for the bill before we pissed off as quickly as possible in search of a jazz bar George had spied two days before. Not accustomed to seeing Venice at night, we got lost for a while before finally finding the bar, which turned out to be closed on Wednesdays, and then gave up and went back to the apartment. Unfortunately I'd somehow hurt my back so was not altogether displeased to end the night with an Averna (Italian liquer, $50 a bottle in Adelaide, €9.90 in Venice).

Today was to be our first long haul journey, 8 hours to Vienna, and it was surprisingly bearable, especially when you consider that we were sharing our 6 person cabin with 4 loud Americans. Apart from being a bit loud, they turned out to be totally decent people (amazing enough). We spend the first half of the journey comparing our various cultural practices, which was surprisingly interesting, and then they shared their junk food with us, and then we discovered the drinks trolley served beer, and then we shared our pre-purchased bottle of red with them, and by the time we pulled into Wien we were thoroughly jolly and well aquainted.

We then got a cab to our hotel, dumped our crap and here we are filling you in before we go our for a Viennese dinner. We're now staying here for four days rather than going to Salzburg for two and here for two, so from now we have a minimum of three days in each place, which is quite comforting. Sunday we go to the Spanish Riding School; I can't wait!

We've come to the conclusion that one month is quite long enough for travelling: homesickness has settled in - we're missing Jedi (our dog), our house, our friends and family and I'd just about kill to ride a horse right now. I know the rest of the holiday is going to disappear so fast and I don't want to wish it away, but we've realised how good Australia is, particularly Adelaide (yes, laugh at your will, but try to deny we have it good). We've had no food that is as good or better than good Adelaide food and we crave a bit of order after risking our lives on Italian streets for the last week or two. We may well find that in Vienna and Germany: we'll see.

On that note, we should probably find some dinner. This has become rather long, but I didn't want to leave anything of Venice out.

Conclusion on Italy: if you've got a week or two, skip Rome unless you have a hankering to see the ancient Roman stuff - it is fascinating, but you have a shitload of tourists to contend with, a lot of grime and filth, crazy drivers and quite rude serving staff. Florence is better, but still with the crazy tourist shit. A great base for seeing Tuscany, which is one of the most beautiful places in the world in our opinion. So do that too. And do a Tuscany bike tour, it rocks, even if you're afraid of riding bikes (you'll get over it) and riding through vineyards and olive groves is well worth the physical effort (which is kind of essential in Italy anyway with all the olive oil in everything). Also Venice is an absolute must. Yes, it's expensive, but staying in an apartment makes it worthwhile and you'll never see a more amazing place in your life. It's just incredible. We took more photos there than we've taken just about anywhere!

Speaking of which, we're in the process of uploading photos from Barcelona to Venice into individual albums, so check out the link in the last post. I hope it works - we've had issues finding places that allow it, but there are plenty to peruse if you're keen. I hope you enjoy - sorry about the extreme length of this post.

And from Vienna - prost!!

To the next venue

2007-09-17T17:38:00.000+09:30

Florence is done. Well, not quite, as we only yesterday discovered the beauty of regional Tuscany, less than an hour from the tourist-drenched streets of Florence.

Anyhoo, after we last left you (with the seemingly unrepeatable miracle of being able to upload photos) we found a cool-looking bar at which to cool our heels. A highlight for me was the local dark ale, the name of which escapes me, but the highlight overall was discovering Veuve Cliquot was available by the glass. I lashed out on one for Bec who can probably never again drink that Aussie muck...(tongue in cheek).

On Saturday we had it in our heads that we were going on our long-planned cycling tour of Tuscany however plans were once again thwarted in that our booking was for one reason or another one week out. However it turned out the tour was overbooked Saturday and underbooked Sunday so we got an easy exchange. We spent the day instead being typical tourists - we climbed the cupola (the inner dome) of the Duomo which really was worth the wait despite my various rants about tourists and line ups, we walked around the entirety of the city seemingly looking for uniquely Tuscan places to eat and drink and ended up settling in the Santo Spirito area where we knocked over a local spumante and then had dinner at the Lonely Planet recommended Trattoria Casalinga. The recommendation is highly advocated - the food as well as the service seems totally genuine e.g. no quarter is given for tourists, the place was packed with locals and was absolutely bloody fabulous. Bec had a seafood anti pasto and the famed cured ham with rockmelon and I enjoyed what was easily one of my top 5 favourite ever steaks, in Florentine style which I think just means 'with salt, pepper and oil and perfectly cooked.' We also had to put to rest many of our preconceptions (read prejudices and stereotypes) about American tourists during this dinner as we got talking to a guy from Boston who just so happened to speak fluent Italian and helped us out with the waitress who, albeit highly efficient, was not at all interested in parla Inglese. We had a drink with Tony after for his troubles.

Yesterday we finally got to savour the sights and flavours of the real Tuscany on our bike tour. Two Italian-speaking Britons picked us up from Florence and drove - very fast - to a castillo in the heart of a small Tuscan town. The family owners of the castillo also produce wine and olive oil (supposedly a world-beating oil) and we got a view of the winery and oil press and a taste of the product, which was pretty damn good. Also of interest was the view from the peak of the tower which would have been amazing if not somewhat marred by clouds of flying ants choking the area.

The bike tour kicked off marvellously; virtually all down hill, surrounded by stunning green, rolling hills and vineyards, and ending with a fantastic lunch at a very traditional little trattoria. However, after lunch and several reds (of course the ANZACs at the table, aided by an ally in a young Canadian girl, had to polish off any remaining booze), the remainder of the trip was somewhat tougher. It contained one mammoth climb that Bec and I did attempt but ended up pushing our bikes a few hundred metres in. Fortunately the tour lads were prepared for this and 5 of us ended up panting in the back of a van for the rest of the uphill leg. Overall I'd say the day was one of the single best we've had and I'd recommend the tour to anyone coming to Tuscany. On that note, if anyone likes the idea of hiring a villa in Tuscany for a month sometime, let me know...Another fact worth mentioning about the tour was that Bec hadn't ridden a bike for at least two decades before yesterday and acquitted herself well despite much initial trepidation. She is now over her fear and cycling around Amsterdam now seems a vague possibility...well done to her.

Last night we were utterly stuffed from our efforts of the day and had a quiet dinner and a few drinks, somewhat ironically, at an Irish pub (admittedly this was mostly because we got a drinks discount from eating next door). We got more gelati before crashing out.

We are very soon to head off to Venice, so our next report will be from there. Ciao!

At last - pictures!

2007-09-15T02:06:00.000+09:30

After much tribulation, we have the first rather large selection of images available for your edification. Using Picasa you can flick through yet untagged images from London, Edinburgh, Paris, Bordeaux, San Sebastian, Zaragoza and the very beginning of our time in Barcelona.

As a certain OB predicted, there is an abundance of photos featuring food and booze - staples of any Bec and George journey.

You can have a look at our 600 or so pics here:

http://picasaweb.google.com/georgebec

Enjoy!

Buongiorno Florence

2007-09-15T01:02:00.000+09:30

We've escaped the hustle and bustle of Rome for the relative quiet of Florence (I personally prefer the original 'Firenze'). We left Rome with a blast, having an all-day drinking session which included wines near the Pantheon, many beers and Bloody Maries at a Canadian-run bar in the backstreets and an overly big pizza at a reputed but overrated pizzeria. We've come to realise that us Adelaideans are very spoiled when it comes to food - only now in Florence have we discovered pizza that rivals some made at home. However, I must say my tomato and basil spaghetti for our late lunch was fantastic.

We have nothing planned for tonight but to walk off our lunch and possibly find some gelati and later some anti pasto for dinner. Tomorrow we're off on a bike tour around Tuscany, Chianti specifically. Despite what we commonly know as Chianti - based on experiences at the long-lost Don Giovanni's and adolescent experiences with Mateuse Rose - the wine from this region is fantastic.

We must make an apology - despite our best endeavours we haven't yet got our photos up online. Complexities continue to conspire and by the time we work it out we might well be home again.

I just have to get something off my chest: I will admit I have been somewhat of an intolerable travelling companion in recent days as our experience of Rome really demonstrated the worst effects of mass tourism. Although we're contributing to the problem by our mere presence, it is tragic to me to think that many of the world's beautiful sites are now ten thousand people deep at any time of day and wrapped in layers of security, bureaucratic control and gross tourist merchandise which, in my opinion, degrades most of these experiences. The Vatican, for example, was a marvel to view but to go inside would incur a penalty of half your day waiting in a line. I find it truly depressing that this is the way of the future, but I guess it also encourages me to think of ways to travel roads less trod. It also brings to mind yet again all the wonders we have in our backyard at home. Here endeth the rant.

A day of thwarted plans

2007-09-13T18:03:00.000+09:30

Yesterday was supposed to be our day trip in Amalfi, and we almost made it...and that sort of set the tone for the rest of the day.

We got the train to Salerno, which all went according to plan, walked out of the train station and found the bus stop for Amalfi right out the front of the station. Perfect. We double checked with information what time the bus came, and though we had to wait for 45 minutes for the next one, we were comforted by the presence of many other tourists all waiting for the same bus and assured ourselves we were in the right place. Finally the bus arrived and I asked the driver for two tickets to Amalfi. Negative: we were supposed to buy tickets from the ticket place (right behind us; the same people who had told us when the bus came but neglected to mention anything about having tickets first). I asked if he would wait 2 minutes for us to get our tickets. No, not possible, he said. By this time it was 11.30, at least half an hour to Amalfi, quite probably a lot more, and our train back to Rome was booked for 3.45. Realising that even if we waited for the next bus and did make it there we'd probably have to get straight on the bus back again to come back, we decided to spend the next four hours in Salerno and salvage something of the two and half hour trip there.

Salerno is not a huge tourist city - not a city at all, in fact, but it was quite pretty and was set on a beautiful cove, kind of like San Sebastian. We got a map from the tourist place and had a bit of a wander after a coffee to get our bearings. We found a really nice public park, went to a bar for a beer and then made the crazy decision to try to walk up this giant mountain to an old ruined castle that was 300 metres above sea level.

We found a crazy zig zaggy stairway that took us quite rapidly up the hill between apartments and kept us mostly off the roads. There were no signs anywhere to this castle; all we knew is that we needed to keep going up. At different points there was room to stop and look down over fantastic views of the Salerno gulf as we tried to work out which stairway to take next. Finally we reached the windy road leading up to the castle and after negotiating 100 metres of it while trying not to be knocked off the road by passing trucks, we were relieved to turn off on another road that actually had a sign. Here we found another stairway off the road, but our confidence began to wane as we walked up it and realised it was mostly overgrown and felt a bit like we were walking through private property. Nevertheless, we pushed onward until the pathway was finally blocked by what appeared to be a very messy and very smelly pig farm. After this we could find no further pathways there, and the road looked far too treacherous to risk walking on (plus it was very long, as it wound around the mountain). So we aborted that plan and began the walk back down. Nevertheless, we got fairly close to the castle and we saw some absolutely amazing views, so we weren't too worried about missing it.

On the way down we intended to visit this garden that was mentioned in the tourist brochure and sounded pretty cool. Unfortunately it had closed at 1.30 and we missed out on that too. Finally, we found a place to have lunch before getting the train back. George ordered the number 2 panini and I ordered a tuna salad, and mysteriously, two paninis with tuna and tomato came out for us... When things like this happen I wonder if it really was just a communication problem or the locals playing a joke on the dumb tourists to see if they'll say anything. They were tasty paninis though so we couldn't really complain!

Not wanting the pattern of missing out on things to continue, we made sure we got back to the station in plenty of time to get our train (and had a bit of stress when none of the info boards showed the platform we needed to be on - but after a bit of covert spying of other people's boarding passes and asking some other tourists we discovered we were in the right place, and the train was 15 minutes late anyway).

Last night we once again got a quiet dinner nearby to our hotel, which was OK, then returned to the hotel to down a bottle of sparkling lambrusco and play a few games of cards. Today is our last day here and we're determined to find some authentic pizza for dinner tonight rather than stay around the tourist trap here (hence the late start).

We're finally able to attempt to get our photos online today, so hopefully this will be followed by a link to them if I'm successful.

Arrivederci!

Musings on Rome

2007-09-12T05:27:00.000+09:30

We will begin with the pros and cons of cheap flights in Europe:

Pros

It's cheap

Cons

The flight will be delayed (nothing unusual)
The seats are smaller than Virgin/Jetstar planes
A crazy woman will begin an argument with flight attendants that will last for at least 10 minutes. During this time the passengers will begin abusing her. She will abuse them in return and the person sitting next to you will jump up as if she is about to biff her (but she doesn't)
That is eventually resolved and is immediately followed by an announcement that the plane will take off in approximately 20 minutes
The plane takes off in approximately 30 minutes, after which you already have cramps
Once the plane is in the air, it appears that the engine switches off and you are hanging in the air, at which time you truly believe you are about to die. Everyone looks at one another but no one says anything
Engine then kicks in again and you continue.
The plane lands and 50% of passengers break into spontaneous applause
You get into the airport and go to the appropriate luggage belt, only to wait an hour and a half and two subsequent flights until your luggage finally comes out.

This was our introduction to Italy, and I'm happy to say things have become moderately better. For instance, when we arrived at our hotel, we were pleased to find that not only was it actually very close to the train station, but the staff lived up to the hotel's name, "Welcome Residences", and were pleasingly if not slightly cornily friendly and welcoming.

Our Lonely Planet guide warned us that Italy is not the most organised and streamlined of places, and this has proven to be true. The traffic is completely insane and the rules even less enforced than in France and Spain. There are very few pedestrian crossings, and those that exist are only observed by drivers if they feel like it. After hesitating and then running across the road in a panic for a while, we've quickly learned that the only way to survive is to look down and walk across in front of oncoming traffic.

Last night we had a quiet dinner at a pizza place around the corner and a lovely bottle of Chianti and had an early night after what ended up being 7 hours of travel (despite the 1 and a half hour flight). A big positive about this place is that literally everyone speaks English. I was getting all fired up about using my high school Italian and was even practising different phrases on the plane, but was a little disappointed to find that even when we greet someone in Italian, they will answer in English (probably due to my poor pronunciation).

Today begun with a decidedly poor breakfast at the hotel (stale croissants, fake "juice", a huge pile of bread but no toaster, and yoghurt with a higher percentage of sugar than yoghurt), did some laundry, sorted our train tickets for the next few weeks (a mission in itself) and then we headed straight to the Colosseum. The line was enormous, and after fending off hundreds of American people trying to talk us into taking the guided tour with them in return for an extra 10 euros and skipping the line, we soon remembered that we actually had no cash. After asking someone if we could use credit card and finding out we could not, we left and went to the Roman Forum, which was free and quite amazing, with architecture from pre BC.

We then took a massive hike to the Vatican, where we finally found an ATM, only to find that none of them were available for cash withdrawal (!?). There were heaps of police around and then we realised that today is 11 September. We walked up to the entrance and took a few photos, but had no wish to line up behind the hundreds of people waiting to go into the Basilica, so we left.

After our fourth attempt at withdrawing cash from different ATMS, we finally found one that would give us money, so we immediately purchased due bloody big birras and relaxed for half an hour. We then set out again, picked up another four beers from the supermercato and settled in front of the Fontana di Trevi and drank all of them while drinking in the view. It was beautiful, 500 thousand tourists aside.

We finally got back to our hotel and chilled out for a while before showering and heading out for another dinner close by, this time rigatoni carbonara and linguine alla vongole...yum. Plus a bottle of Chianti (inferior to last night's, but nevertheless drinkable).

Tomorrow we're going on a day trip to Amalfi, which I can't wait for, followed by one more day in Rome, then onto Florence.

Bye bye Barcelona

2007-09-10T02:24:00.000+09:30

We´re onto our final night in Barcelona, and this is a truly saddening fact. We cottoned onto the nightlife a little last night - after a delicious meal in a tiny side street restaunt called LÓlivia we had cocktails and shots at some bar we got conned into with the teaser of free shots and the best Mojito maker in Spain. The Mojito was awesome but the two Euro tip he took from us (by not giving change) compensated for the free tequilla slammer.

This morning I finally found churros - basically deep-fried donut batter twisted into a curl and served with sugar - but the meal was soured by the staff taking some mysterious dislike to us and refusing to bring the bill. But shaking off that annoyance we took a huge walk around the dock and beach areas of Barcelona. The beaches are pretty ordinary compared to ours - dirt rather than sand and very packed - but there´s no shortage of activity and the architecture around the boardwalk is amazing. It is all very modern and adventurous.

Returning to the Colom (a tribute to Columbus) we headed through Las Ramblas and got a train to Parc Guerell. This is one of Gaudi´s masterworks - a former farm turned into installation art en masse. It boasts massive halls, statues, view points, winding tracks and the works. It´s bloody amazing really. Getting there is half the fun - from the train we got we clambered up this madly steep hill which had about 5 escalators along the way to assist struggling tourists. On our return to Las Ramblas we got straight into the booze and food. Pretty much the first place we saw we settled in and got ´cervaza grande´which turned out to be a stein each, and a stupid amount of tapas for lunch. We´ve since had a bit of a siesta ourselves and will soon head out to meet my dad to farewell him - he´s off to Frankfurt tomorrow.

While I think of it, when we were on top of one particularly high and crowded view point at Part Guell we heard this massive explosion coming from somewhere in town. No idea what it was but everyone turned to look. Weird.

Anyhoo, that´s our day so far. Thank you for your attention.

PS. Things you MUST do if you come to Spain:

Spend as long as you can in San Sebastian before it turns into a tourist nightmare - it is unspoiled and completely beautiful.

Drink good sangria - we´ve had and we´ve had bad but the dryer it is the better it is.

Eat sole fish and as much ham as you can get. The Spanish have a love for their ham that rivals our love for Iced Coffee, but there´s so much more choice and it´s actually good. Really good.

Go to La Sacrada Familia and bring a bottle of wine if you´re allowed - if I could have I would have sat looking at it for hours.

Try the lemon beer - it sounds poo but it´s really nice, a good change down from litres of the local poison.

When you see fresh, tasty-looking tapàs, don´t hesitate, just eat it. Although tapas is everywhere, good tapas is hard to find.

Farewell. Next time we report will be from Italy.

Bloody brilliant Barcelona

2007-09-09T02:34:00.000+09:30

Our first full day here has been sun-drenched fun, but to follow up on Bec´s entry of last night, I should also mention a highlight has, once again, been fresh food. We went to the main central market yesterday and the sights and smells were amazing. I´ve never seen so much glorious fish, bread, smallgoods - and to top it off they´ve got bars throughout the market too. One interesting aside is the ´no waste´culture when it comes to meat - we spotted on numerous occasions red and white offal sausage, pig noses and whole sheep heads. Another shock was that whole chooks are sold literally whole - feathers off but head on. Ugh.

We went back to Las Ramblas for dinner and got sucked in by bright pictures of the food - don´t do it, OK? If they have to show you pictures, it´s no good. I mean, it wasn´t terrible but it just wasn´t exciting. I got this enormous kebab that was served vertically and honestly towered over my head. It looked better than it tasted but it was OK. Bec and dad both had a somewhat disappointing seafood paella. On that note, there appears to be a chain of paella joints. Bizarre.

So to today. I had an awesome sleep in to nullify the effect of post-dinner wines at the myriad of bars around the place. We got a dodgy chocolate croissant for breakfast (I still haven´t got myself the famed chocolate con churros) then spent an age and a shipload of money finalising our burning of photos to CD. After that began the mission - we walked south through Barri Gotic, the old town if you like, then went to the Picasso gallery which was overwhelming in most senses of the term - there are more than 3000 pieces covering his long career and seeing his progression in style is a marvel even to an art ignoramus like me. We then got sidetracked into a litle bar for lunch and had an awesome snack of chicken croqettes, garlic mushrooms, tuna salad and tomato bread. Although cheap it was one of the best so far. The two pints of some Basque beer I had were OK too.

With satisfied tummies we marched off to a major park which apparently boasts a magnificent waterfall although thanks to a combination of terror, justified security concerns and out and out paranoia, most of the gardens - which incorporate the Catalunya parliament, I think - were closed to the public. Bollocks.

Despite the set back we took on the massive hike to La Sacrada Familia (sp). This gargantuan and long-coming church was kicked off by Gaudi in 1882 and it doesn´t seem at all likely that the interior will be complete before its bicentenary. But the superlatives I have for it cannot go near describing it as an architechtual masterpiece. After walking through the inside (to be frank, not much more than a building site with some fantastic roof and other appointments) the ´back´was a sight to behold. I honestly could have sat looking at it for hours. It towers above you and every inch is intricate and interrelated. It isn´t in the gothic or neo-gothic style you come to expect in Europe; instead it has this bizarre sense of surreal modernism. Its bulk is almost reminscent of Magic Mountain in its asymetery, yet it is absolutely beautiful. The irregularity of the surface, around which are dotted countless stunning statues and gargoyles, gives an almost organic feel to it. It was truly breathtaking and I can safely say that although far from complete, it takes a giant dump on the Eiffel Tower on most counts (with the exception that the queues for the lift to the top are ludicrous e.g. 1.5 hours. On that issue we narrowly avoided getting caught in the Barcelona Chapel lift today - we were waiting for it to arrive and it simply did not - soon after the operator closed it down).

OK, so that brings us pretty much to now. We have few plans but might stumble along Las Ramblas for a decent feed. I´ve been getting stuck into the beers and am currently enjoying Vol-Damm double malt - a mild 7.2% number. At least the beers here are a bit more forgiving than their French counterparts.

Buonas dias!

Hola from Barcelona (Barthelona if you want to pronounce it correctly)

2007-09-08T03:20:00.000+09:30

After very gladly seeing the back of Zaragoza this moring (hasta la vista, el dumpo), we sped on the train to Barcelona today and things are much better here... This city is amazing, so big and colourful and active and far better disposed towards us non Spanish speaking types. We spent the afternoon walking the streets, checked out Las Ramblas (or La Rambla depending on the signs or tourist information you look at). La Rambla is an enormous boulevard with countless cafes, bars, tapas and paella joints in the centre and is surrounded by buskers, human statues and the usual beggars. We sat at one bar and had una grande cerveza (1 litre of beer) and a big glass of sangria, followed by a jug of sangria cava, which is sangria with Basque sparkling white wine rather than the usual red wine...weird but nice, and quite potent too.

For the rest of the afternoon we wandered to various bars and drank beer (including a beer with lemon, which was unusual but nice), and finally went to a photo place to burn our current count of 600 photos onto CD. It was going to take so long that we´ll be going back tomorrow to pick it up! I really like it here, despite the paranoia about being pick pocketed (which is rife here). Luckily our hostel has a safe here so we've been able to lock up our important stuff, like passports and Eurail pass and extra cash. The city reminds me a bit of Paris, but a little grimier and with more colour and character. But it's certainly far easier to communicate than in Zaragoza, where the majority of people were intolerant and even hostile. I do not recommend visiting Zaragoza unless you have a good command of Spanish and/or are interested in Roman Catholic historical stuff.

One memorable moment that we keep forgetting to mention was in San Sebastian, where we were walking down the street in broad daylight when we were passed by a guy on a bicycle who was completely naked. He even gave us a big smile as he passed as if to acknowledge his insanity.

Another thing we've noticed in general since we've been in the UK and Europe is how over-legislated everything is in Australia. For instance, alcohol - you can buy it in every supermarket, and even in more unlikely places, such as internet cafes. In fact when we were writing yesterday's entry in Zaragoza we were swilling cans of beer. No, I'm serious. It's cool, although probably quite bad for our health.

Anyway, we're just having some down time at our hostel at the moment and will soon head out for dinner - still haven't gotten used to the whole siesta thing yet and eating at 9/10 pm. But we've started having lunch later in the day so it's getting easier.

Off now but we'll check in again in the next few days, hopefully with some photos once we have our CD sorted.

Dazed and confused in Zaragoza

2007-09-06T23:40:00.000+09:30

We left the loving, calming surrounds of beatiful San Sebastian and yesterday afternoon our train lobbed into Zaragoza in the country´s central northern region. For the first time, language became a real issue. But that´s for later.

Let me bring you up to speed...

Our final day evening in SS was a calm night of walking through beautiful streets, basking in wonderful weather and good vibes aplenty. Bec and I stumbled on a game of Jai Alai in the backstreets - a crazy handball crossed with squash type game where people bang this solid-looking ball against a wall with their bare hands. During the day we´d also developed a love for the local sangria - a very simple blend of light red and citrus. We found a few different sunny spots and knocked over two whole jugs of it. We later met up with my dad and had a basic dinner of entrees (smoked salmon, jamon, asparagus and salad) which was possibly the meal of the trip so far for its simplicity and delicious representation of the region. We hit a few bars including a very cool wine bar and crashed.

Bec was up and about early and took a run along the stunning SS boardwalk while the sun was rising before we stumbled on an awesome little patisserie for breakfast. The train trip to Zaragoza was uneventful (aside from us disgracing the carriage with our messy lunch of baguettes, cheese and jamon) but we were welcomed to Zaragoza with something less than the famous Spanish hospitality we´d come to expect. When trying to buy our next leg of train trips (to Barcelona) I was mercilessly mocked for my lack of Spanish despite my attempt to conduct the majority of the conversation in my pathetic version of the beautiful tongue. Instead of help I got rolled eyes and exaggerated groans of disapproval, making it patently clear that my attempts at the world´s biggest language weren´t appreciated. On top of this, not only did we get stung with a massive fee for booking seats (the norm in Spain, apparently), the evil wench also ballsed the process up entirely and only gave us two seats rather than the required three, apparently having not seen that our rail pass clearly was for two people. An accident? I think not, my friends, I think not.

Anyhoo, we made it to our hotel with some relief (despite only then discovering the balls up) and we took a constitutional around what is a very historic city. However we were walking during siesta and we were thinking the place was a bit of a dud. That all changed when, after a few 40c beers in our hotel, we went out to find a restaurant and ran into the usual problem of too much choice. We had a beer at Cerveciria D´Jorge (George´s Pub, basically) and at a few other places while waiting for more restaurant options to open up. Sadly this only complicated matters and we ended up with a near stalemate over where to eat which ended when I just piled into the first place that looked half decent. For better or worse it was an all you can eat tapas type bar with Charlies´Bistro style Spanish food. It was bearable though. After dinner we drank at a number of very cool bars including one with this great beer garden surrounded by ancient towering walls. Republica also had a lot of antique type stuff in it and that was cool too.

This morning we were off to a very slow start and have succeeded only really in walking to the train station to fix the ticket debacle (we found someone who could speak English) and drinking beer. We found this great little place off behind the main plaza which was loaded with locals in their siesta break and had a beer and some fried anchovies which, frankly, were the bomb. Tonight we´re going out for a decent sit-down dinner and hopefully find a pub we walked past last night called Mombassa. It had a giant rhino in it. I liked it but we didn´t stay. I don´t like our chances of finding it though, this place is a bit of a warren in some ways.

Hola from San Sebastian

2007-09-04T22:33:00.000+09:30

I love love love this place - it's my favourite so far out of everywhere we've visited. The town surrounds a big bay cove thingy with beautiful beaches and is surrounded by mountain peaks. Yesterday we climbed up one big hill, Monte Urgull (about 250 thousand steep steps), to this big fort type building with a gigantic statue of Jesus on top. The views from there were absolutely amazing. And the best bit was when we were starting on the way down we discovered this tiny bar on the hillside where you could order a beer and look over the sea and the island in the harbour. Very cool.

The hotel we're staying in is awesome - it's 4 star because that was all we could get and it's two streets back from the beach and has a fantastic view of the sea. It's so good, in fact, that last night before going out we drank our leftover French booze in our room looking over the ocean.

Hardly anyone here speaks English so we've been communicating in a mixture of poorly pronounced Spanish and hand gestures, but it's been good for very quickly learning the basics of the language. George stressed out reserving our seats on the train to Zaragoza tomorrow in Spanish, but it was surprisingly easy in the end.

We´re now really regretting that we´re not staying here for longer. We´ve just had our first experience of tapas for lunch and have been getting stuck into the zurritos (small beers - the only reason we've been ordering small ones is because we couldn´t immediately work out how to order big ones).

This morning we went up the other massive mountain on this crazy cable car that goes up the hill on a 70 degree angle, and the views from the top of that one were even better - alas, no bar, but the weather was not so good this morning anyway. Plus, the main thing up there was a crappy children's amusement park, so not very exciting for us. We had grand plans of walking back down the hill, but couldn't find a path that wasn't a very narrow road with no verge on either side, so we had to get the crazy cable car back down again.

For the rest of the day we're going to hit the turps (how unusual) in the streets of San Sebastian preparing for a big night of more tapas and a jug or two of sangria.

Did I mention I love it here?

Un grande soir a Bordeaux

2007-09-03T06:07:00.000+09:30

Well, not really, but we kicked on after our wine tasting and are a little weary rather than, to use Tom's term, wankered.

Anyhoo, our little bus tour took us to St Emillion about 45 mins out of Bordeaux. The vistas were stunning; STE is beautiful itself w rolling hills and pantaloons of greenery, vines and old, old, old buildings. We got shown around a vineyard about to drop - the bunches were bloody huge - and got talked through the wine making process. Finally we tried a few wines which were again excellent - a 2001 and a 2003. The bus then took us to STE proper and we mindlessly followed the tour guide to a seemingly boring as batsh&t church which opened up into this awesome village of steep cobblestone streets and endless cafes and boozers. We went into this crazy series of catacombs and an underground church which has these dirty great support pillars made of ancient limestone now supported with thumping great metal braces. Amazing stuff.

After a cleansing rosé we settled at some restaurant somewhere and had a three course deal which included salmon tartare, grilled eel and tons of spuds. We also knocked over two Bordeaux before heading back to the place we discovered Picon and slammed one of them down.

Well and truly going au coucher. Bonsoir.

Bordeaux continued

2007-09-02T18:42:00.000+09:30

Bonjour or bonsoir depending on where you are in the world.

We have continued to pursue quintessentially French experiences while being typical tourists. We started the day yesterday at the Office de Tourisme (a delayed start due to some appallingly misleading street signage) and discovered that Bordeaux is very much marketed to a local French tourist than it is to external visitors i.e. everything is in French. We eventually settled on a tour for today (Sunday) that will take us to a few wineries in St Emillion. Just down from the ODT is this magnificent fountain dedicated to Les Girodines, apparently bad guys during the revolution whose good names have been seemingly restored post decapitation. We then strolled along the boardwalk along the river (the name escapes me) and happened upon a stunt bike and rollerblading competition that we watched for a bit before ambling about Les Jardins Publique (magnicifent public gardens near the centre of the city).

After chowing down our tasty self-made baguettes (roast pork, brie, baby spinach etc) we met my dad at La Bar au Vin, this wine bar that doubles as the town base for several maison 'wine houses); unfortunately there are no free tastings but the wines we tried blew my conceptions of French wine out of the water. I had expected weak, insipid and flabby stuff; instead most vins displayed great intensity balanced with savoury complexity - truly magnificent, and they weren't even expensive - the most pricey was five euro. Dad departed after one wine and soon after Tom joined us. We had a few moire then moved off toward our place, stopping at a tiny bar on the way and trying this great drink called Picon - simply put it is Stella with a dash of this Fleurs de Bier which adds this Chinotto-like quality to an otherwise bland beer (apologies to fans of the stuff, we've been spoiled here for good beer). Back at our place we hammered some beers I'd bought a la supermarché (an experience itself, one for later) including Pelforth Amber which I haven't seen in Oz but is ann absolute kicker - 6% and swillable.

We settled on a restaurant in the shadow of an awesome cathedral and Tom and I both got brave and had beef tartare - it wasn't really all that much to bang on about. We hit a few bars later in the night and Tom practised his French by getting himself invited to tables of young girls; we had some good conversations with some of these dames whose names now escape me. We had at least a bottle with this lot so hence my memory is somewhat sketchy after what had become a very big day.

Anyhow, must wrap up as Bec is making another sandwich for us to mangér dans les jardins before our wine tour. But a few quick reflections:

Supermarkets here are truly super - the fresh food is magnificent, the F and V is great and the beer - mon dieu - the beer; cheap 'less than one euro for les big cans) and incredibly good.
People seriously seem to live on baguettes here - they are on sale everywhere and at the end of each day virtually everyone is carrying at least one home. We even saw one guy with his baguette strapped to the back of his bike.
Cycling is a massive thing - it's a very normal mode of transport. In Paris you can hire these public bikes for a euro a day or something and there are these bays you can leave them pretty much anywhere. Paris also has a series of dedicated bikeways running between the footpath and the road. It's a very good system.

We're off to San Sebastian tomorrow but hopefully we'll get in one more free blog before then.

Au revoir!

First night in Bordeaux

2007-09-01T06:18:00.000+09:30

This is an unusually quick addition, but it's pretty late and no one is around, plus we're pretty drunk so feeling a bit verbose...

We've just completed our first night in Bordeaux, which was relatively uneventful, except that there was some major cycling race thing happening...don't know what, but it seemed big. We had pizza for dinner, not particularly French but it was OK. Really that was it for the night, other than drinking the 1 litre bottle of sauvignon blanc we were given in Paris, as per previous entry.

Oh yeah, the bread and cheese here is sensational - we've eaten shitloads of it and it's so cheap too. So is the beer. For the first time our accommodation includes mini bar so we've been able to buy stuff for breakfast and lunch, and the beer is so cheap - less than 1 euro for a 500ml can. In the whole 7 hours we've been here we've taken full advantage.

OK, going now cos I'm stuffed and this wacky keyboard is freaking me out! Report back soon...

Reflections of Paris

2007-08-31T22:58:00.000+09:30

Firstly, it's been almost a week since the day and night from hell and now I'm not quite so sore about it I can think about the good bits: we had the opportunity to see some beautiful Scottish and English countryside. I particularly loved the Yorkshire area, which is remarkably like the Adelaide hills. The romantic in me is tempted to believe that it is my ancestral Yorkshire roots that account for my love of the Adelaide hills, but my dominant realistic side tells me that it is more likely the fact that my first memories are of living there...

Anyway, Paris: it's a beautiful city, full of beautiful people...and everyone is so goddamn skinny. You can tell who the tourists are because they're the fat ones. In fact, the 'fat' French women are about my size, so I've been feeling like a real heifer. Absolutely everyone smokes, including in restaurants, which is totally gross, especially after experiencing the smoking ban in London, which by the way rocks. Most people do speak English, but not all, so George's high school French has certainly come in handy.

We did all the usual touristy stuff: Arc de Triomphe, Eiffel Tower (don't recommend this - it's really not worth the fight with the bunch of animals that are tourists), Louvre, Musee d'Orsay, Champs d'Elysses, etc, as well as some more interesting experiences, such as drinking with a real life Bohemian in Montemartre and getting not only free glasses of wine from a very generous bartender, but a free 1 litre bottle when we left!

Yesterday we went to Epernay and did a tour of Moet et Chandon, which was awesome. We got two glasses of some of the best champagne in the world and toured part of the 38km of underground cellars. This is highly recommended! We then went to the tourist centre for some free tastings, then back to Paris for our last night there.

This morning we got up early and went to see Sacre Coure (big church which looked nice for the 5 seconds I saw it before being kicked out, presumably for wearing shorts - thanks, religion, for spurning me yet again), and the Moulin Rouge, which was a little disappointing, then rushed to get our train to Bordeaux.

Speaking of which, I must go because internet is free at our hotel and there's only one computer and people are waiting!

Bonjour!

2007-08-30T01:47:00.000+09:30

Greetings from Paris. Once again we have failed to find time (or venues) for keeping you up to date. So, picking up from the nightmare that was Saturday:

Reading: A tale of thrashed-out dudes and lost shoes

After a bit of a sleep in to recover from the cross-country jaunt that was Saturday we had a leisurely start to the day (apart from getting lost trying to find the laundrette inside the hostel) but then had to rush to make the train to Reading. The trip was smooth and the walk from the station gave us some hint of what were in for - many badly sunburned dudes buying masses of beer and already looking untidy at midday. Amy got us into the VIP tent (a godsend for the relatively clean dunnies) and after getting our first beer (a pint of Grolsch for almost $10) we fought our way out among the plebs. We quickly realised that Reading goers put their Big Day Out equivalents to shame - everywhere dudes were lying sprawled on the filthy ground, sunburned, comatose and generally dreggy. I got a few pics to prove it.

Our first stop was an Irish band called Republic of Loose who rocked out a folksy-style hip hop. Other bands included:

Funeral for a Friend
Operator Please (these Aussie youngsters seemingly have a huge British fan base)
CSS
Cold War Kids (a pleasant surprise for I didn't see them on the bill)
Nine Inch Nails

At the end of the night came the highlight - the reformed Smashing Pumpkins. I was so excited I had a rush of blood to the head and took on the mosh pit. About three songs in and loving it, disaster struck. The crowd surged backwards and I went with it. My shoe however did not and I lost it in the crap and filth of the Reading mosh. With the crowd becoming increasingly animated I decided to make a strategic retreat on my one good shoe, afraid of both injuries from stamping feet and the hepatitis surely breeding on the ground. Upon my escape I listened from relative safety then decided to bail as the shoe situation was not sustainable. One condundrum however was that the day's beer consumption had come home to roost and I had to avail myself of the no longer salubrious facilities. Striking up a single-serve friendship with a Briton named Clive I borrowed a right shoe and got about my business. The next problem then was getting back to London on one shoe. I had found one plastic bag to insulate my foot from the soil sewer but fearing that would be inadequate I paid one of the long-suffering dunny cleaners a pound to wrap my foot in sturdy plastic bags they had handy. Upon leaving I thought I looked a sight but on the walk to the train we ran into two other blokes with the same predicament (although their losses were due to them throwing each others' shoes into the crowd). Of course I had to get a photo. The trip back to London was a bit foul: the train was filthy and packed with louts. And of course it stopped at every station so by the time we got in the tube wasn't running. With some assistance from a kindly soul we got the right bus and passed out in bed about 2am.

OK, I hate to cut this short when we're already behind but this keyboard is back to front and it's taken ages just to do this. In our next instalment:

French food and culture (smoking, bikes and baguettes)
The Arc de Triomphe and the Champs D'Elysses
A massive night out with generous hoteliers and French intellectuals
A hang over
Louvre
Musee d'Orsay
Notre Dame

Au revoir!

Day (and night) from hell

2007-08-26T20:11:00.000+09:30

To bring us up to date, we spent the rest of Friday afternoon wandering around and drinking beer on the street (it is actually legal), ran into Tom by pure coincidence and drank a few Bulmers with him at the finally-discovered Spiegel Gardens, tried to get to a free Fringe show but managed to get lost (my fault) and didn't make it. We then went to a local pub for dinner and both George and his dad were brave enough to try haggis - the verdict was that it was quite tasty but not extraordinary - something like a meat pie with oats.

Previously in the day we had bought half price tickets for this cool folky type band we saw playing on the Royal Mile for 11pm. We managed to drag ourselves out at 10.30 and after walking for 15 minutes and realising we still weren't even halfway there we pulled the pin and decided to forfeit the £6 and go to bed instead.

That brings us up to yesterday - what was supposed to be a leisurely drive from Edinburgh to Leeds then back to London on the train in time for dinner at our hostel turned into a nightmare of constantly getting lost, turning around and going back only to turn around again and go back the other way. First we went to Ladykirk in Scotland (after getting lost about 5 times), had a look around, took some photos then moved onto Hadrian's Wall, which we found after getting lost about 3 times. After this we drove to Leeds, getting lost another several times on the way, where we eventually found the house my dad was born in (yes, after getting lost another few times and then getting directions and a hand drawn map from a very nice lady in a pub).

After this we drove to York where we were supposed to drop off the car and get on the train back to London. We actually managed to get there without getting lost, but once there couldn't find a servo to fill up the car, which wasted another half an hour before we finally got to the station only to discover that we had missed the last train back to London. After more faffing around we finally decided to drive back to London instead at about 9.30pm. What should have been a 3 and a half hour drive turned into a 5 hour marathon because, yes, you guessed it, we got lost. We eventually gave up and got out of the car near where our hostel was and left George's dad to fend for himself. We finally got to bed at 3.15am.

Oh yeah, and I actually had an alcohol free day - a first and probably only for this holiday. George, on the other hand, knocked over four 500ml tins of Stella on the journey from York to London.

Not the best day of the holiday so far, but today we're heading off to the Reading music festival, where we luckily have VIP passes waiting for us thanks to Amy (thanks sis) and will hopefully be able to spend some of the day relaxing in the VIP area when we're not being stomped on by enthusiastic crowds.

Tomorrow morning we get on the Eurostar to Paris - woohoo!

London to Edinburgh

2007-08-24T22:35:00.000+09:30

This is a three-day catch up as we've been flat out and internet cafes in Ed are few and far between (and damn expensive).

On Monday just gone we got up extremely early still not having fully adjusted to our new time zone. At Cristy's recommendation we took a huge constitutional around Regent Park only a stroll from our hostel. It is absolutely beautiful. We got ourselves into the centre walk jam-packed with roses, crazy statues, creeks and mini islands. Swans and squirrels also abound. They are classic - they run around like nutbars and reminded us both of our cat Wednesday on a high. Highly recommended.

We then got the tube into the city and took a stupidly big walk around all the city centre sites including the Thames, Westminster Abbey, Waterloo, Tate Modern, Bucking Huge Palace etc. We had an overpriced but extremely tasty sandwich for lunch and ended up, surprise, surprise, at a pub in Soho. We moved to another pub where we foolishly moved onto the 'extra strong' cider - this caused us some pain and disorientation and we were late meeting with my friend Ian from law school at Tower Bridge. We had a quick pizza dinner (salmon calzone was a highlight) and crashed out utterly stuffed.

Tuesday we stalked the tube system organising our various trips to Ed and Paris then tubed out to the Imperial War Museum. This was amazing but we lost three hours or so and also lost a great deal of faith in humanity through the harrowing Holocaust Exhibition. Although it was terrible this also comes highly recommended. We then stumbled down to a place called Elephant and Castle solely because it was a big place on the map and found out it was only a dump. We had the privilege of seeing our first thrashed-out junkies passed out in a tube tunnel there. Welcome to the real London. After stepping over bodies to get to the right station we tubed to Tower Hill again where we took the Tower Bridge walk (if you've done the Sydney Bridge climb simply don't bother; it's a bit poo) then met Amy again and, in place of actually going to the Tower of London, hit the piss at a pub charmingly named the Hung, Drawn and Quartered. The girls got into the cider and I reinforced my love for London Pride, a delectable hand-pumped ale. Bec and I had dinner at Pizza Express (a substantially up market eat in Domino's or Buongiorno) and ended up paying through the nose again due to getting 'large' Peroni e.g. 750ml.

Wednesday we packed in a panic and took the train to Edinburgh. The national rail service is awesome, but only the foolhardy take on the coffee - it was my worst and Bec's second worst coffee experience ever (on Bec's advice leave the Brisbane airport coffee alone too). Upon arrival at Ed we stumbled about getting bearings to kill time before 2pm check in and got overwhelmed by the sheer scope of the Fringe and the number of people (Ed has a population of 400,000 but it swells to 1.5m during Fringe and Festival). We had a tight-arse lunch at a place called Filthy McNasty's (with a name like that I didn't dare try the haggis) then after check in had the wonderful experience of a laundromat (although of course we killed the time at a crappy local pub). Later in the afternoon we met my friend Tom and his friend, Glaswegian and co-worker Lorna at a Fringe venue called Assembly in a massive old university overlooking the 'new' city (more than 200 years old) and in the shadow of Edinburgh castle. Although the venue was marvellous the show was a bit of a let down - a crazy Korean mish-mash of soppy romance, prison break and break dance - weird. The best bit was when I got photographed with the mad man beat boxer from the show after it finished. The photo session went for so long the poor guy had to stop when his throat gave out (or he swallowed his mic, not sure which). We then hunted around for the Spiegeltent which eluded us and instead we ended up at a pub (where it just so happened England v Germany was starting up on the big screen - a 'cultural' experience) and dinner at one of a myriad of curry spots. We got this crazy tricycle thing home which was kind of overpriced but cool.

Wednesday (yesterday) we decided to be cliche tourists and got on a 'sites of Ed' bus, the highlight of which was jumping off at the foot of this dirty great volcanic hill and climbing up the bastard. It was awesome. The view was spectacular and there weren't even THAT many tourists...we got the bus back to the Fringe centre of sorts at the Princes St gardens and met Tom and another friend of his Fiona for a beer on the lawns in baking sun (I am shockingly sun burned) then returned to the hotel to meet my dad who'd just flown in. We ended up running a bit late for what was the pivotal point of the trip to Ed - the military tattoo so we got an average baguette on the way (rather than haggis, neeps and tatters, whatever the hell they are). The tattoo, in my opinion, was worth every cent and the effort to get here. The massed pipes were highlights, as were this Russian brass band who, we were told, were going to play Tsaichowsky (no idea how that's spelleded) but ended up playing all this modern pop-type stuff, and these kids doing crazy stuff very quickly on motor bikes. The girls from Taiwan doing crazy stuff with guns was cool also.

Today we've done the Ed castle and finally bought some Fringe tix (half price) without external recommendation (Pablo's Finest Hour, accoustic band we saw playing on the Royal Mile) and got beers from an awesome whisky shop on the Royal - a seaweed influenced beer and one with gooseberries. We're soon to sit down for our lunch of cheese and biscuits pilfered from the breakfast hall of our hotel.

Thanks to all those posting replies to this blog, we appreciate it even if our lack of response may not so indicate. We're just a bit too busy for much more than this as you can imagine!

2007-08-20T15:44:00.000+09:30

It's day three here and we're already feeling like we don't have enough time here. We've already managed to pack a fair bit of activity into the last couple of days and there's still plenty left to do.

On Friday afternoon we stumbled out of here to the pub still barely alive after four hours of sleep in 40 hours and went to the pub where I tried my first warm pint of English beer (not really a fan although it's beginning to grow on me). We were sitting like zombies calculating the earliest we could get away with going to bed when George messaged Cristy to see if she wanted to catch up sometime and she said 'I'll be there in 45 minutes' and the quiet afternoon turned into a big afternoon and night of drinking Magner's cider and beer and talking. At 9.30 pm we realised we had probably missed our free dinner at the hostel, so we drank a bit more, had a kebab (in the doorway of the restaurant to avoid the rain and a 50p surcharge) and then walked back home in the rain - the quinessential English experience.

You'd think after our lack of sleep that we would have had no trouble at all sleeping for 12 hours straight, but not so - I woke up at about 3 am and lay there stressing about if we were ever going to see our bags again. That said, I also had a dream that we got our luggage at 1 the next day, which pretty much came to pass.)

We started the day by walking to the Camden markets (in the rain), which were really cool. We went for a walk along a canal for a while, looked through the markets and drooled over all the food stalls until we eventually succumbed to an enormous serve of West African curries, which absolutely rocked.

After that we walked back to the hostel, tried to sort out what was going on with our luggage, then got the tube to the Spitalfields Markets. These would also have been really cool if we weren't completely marketed out after the morning. So, not knowing what else to do, we went to the pub. We found this pub that proudly proclaimed it was London's first brewery and had been brewing beer since 1669, so being understandably excited about the prospect of trying their beer, we rushed in only to discover that they did not sell any of their beer, and in fact did not brew beer at all and had almost entirely European beers on tap.

Later on we met up with Amy and Alex and my cousin Sarah and her partner Quentin at a bar that had 2 for 1 cocktails. After a few of these we went to Brick Lane (a strip of entirely Indian restaurants where the proprieters stand out the front and try to entice you inside with their great deals, kind of like Lygon Street). The first person who grabbed us offered us a free round of drinks with our dinner, and Sarah said 'We want a free round of beers for all of us, a free bottle of white and a free bottle of red'. The guy didn't seem to know how to argue this so we enjoyed a rowdy dinner of great Indian and crap wine. We were the first to get there and the last to leave and I'm sure they probably thought we weren't worth the sale.

We were completely buggered after this and hopped on the tube for a quick ride home, only to discover that we were going in the wrong direction, so we got off and changed to what we thought was the right one, but was in fact another one going in the same direction, so we got off again and finally managed to get on the right one. (The system here is really not that confusing, we're just idiots)

Today our plans are to go into the centre of London and actually do the tourist thing.

So far we've found that most of the things people have told us about London have not been the case for us. For example:

Everything is expensive: we've found most things are around the same price (yes, after the conversion). For instance, most pubs have 2 pound pints, which is far cheaper than a good beer of that size in Adelaide.
The food is crap: everything we've had so far has been really good (although admittedly we haven't had any traditional English food other than a bowl of chips in a pub, which were indeed crap).
Everyone is rude: other than a strange style of customer service which entails no small talk, hello or goodbye or even telling you how much something is, everyone has been really friendly.

One thing that is true is the weather - it's been cold and raining every day.

So yeah, we like it here.

Made it

2007-08-18T22:29:00.000+09:30

Somewhat exhausted we stumbled into Heathrow at 8am local time this morning.

The flight and its associated debacle is a tale in itself, however I shall start with the good points and abbreviate the rest.

First, the good:

The food on Vietnam airlines was actually quite good, and as per the stock-standard plan for keeping calm at 30,000 feet, there was a lot of it.
I managed to enjoy a David Boon-type quantity of Carlsberg on the two major legs.
We got upgraded to 'deluxe economy' for the Hanoi to Paris leg which meant more room and a personal screen.
What brings me to sunny point number 4: I got to watch Ghost Rider which was really quite cool.

However:

Thanks to what we can kindly call gross incompetence by ground staff of Vietnam Airlines, we have no luggage whatsoever, making a mockery of our clever attempts at cross packing to avoid a no clothes disaster (I did have a change of clothes in my carry on but due to a misunderstanding, Bec does not). I should add to this point that 'checking luggage through to final destination' means absolutely nothing - in Ho Chi Minh City we carried our luggage 30 metres through customs, for reasons completely unknown. We saw our luggage get loaded at this point so it apparently disappeared after Hanoi. Thewhole 'system' employed by Vietnam Airlines is utterly shambolic. I quickly lost count of confused looks and answers of grunts and 'yes' when the question was clearly not understood. Not happy.
The other real downer was how bloody long the flight was - 5 legs altogether (Adelaide-Sydney-Ho Chi Minh - Hanoi - Paris - London) - the pain has possibly not been worth the saving or free stop over...

All that said, we arrived in one piece and were very kindly picked up by Bec's sister Amy who not only got us to our hostel via a lengthy tube ride (during which a strange woman not only stared at Bec and Amy but also laughed at appropriate times) but also gave us a series of guides to get us about.

She also took us to this huge and ludicrously cheap place on Oxford to buy clothes. I got jocks, socks, a pair of jeans and a t for 13 quid. That lifted my spirits somewhat, as did finding Magners cider in the first bottleshop I wandered into (that's a treat for a little later). We had quite a walk doing that shopping and have since returned to our hostel (a very nice Indian YMCA hostel). We have intended to rest however our long awaited showers were spoiled by the emergency toiletries kit given to us by the lost baggage people did not have shampoo and conditioner - which of course had Bec on the critical list. Cue not one but two trips to the nearby Boots (another misunderstanding, don't ask).

We'll probably catch up with Amy again tomorrow. This afternoon we're going to sit, relax and sip drinks somewhere near - probably at either the local pub, which is appropriately called The George, or another a bit further away which does its own mash brewing.

A confession

2007-08-07T22:04:00.000+09:30

So far, Bec has done pretty much everything while I discipline my liver for the punishment to come. In my defence, however, I have provided an extensive collection of i-tunes to select from, so it's not like I've been entirely idle.

Travel envy is beginning to rear its ugly head - Emely and Ray (Marketing gurus, DTED) are threatening me daily with 'hopefully there's a job for you when you get back' type comments, and our wine collection is under some scrutiny.

All that aside, nerves are quickly giving way to excitement, albeit tinged with a touch of sadness for not seeing pets, friends and family (not NECESSARILY in that order) for in excess of two months.

PS. One thing I DID do was talk us into buying the luggage we now have - time will tell if that choice will be a relationship-limiting move...

11 sleeps to go!

2007-08-06T12:48:00.000+09:30

Almost everything is organised and now we're just waiting to go...oh yeah, we have to wait for our mortgage refinance to come through...it's only three weeks later than expected, but it'll happen, it'll happen!

We leave Adelaide at 7.30 am on Friday 17 August. If, after 35 hours of hell we have still not killed each other, we will arrive in London at around 8.30 am on 18 August. My sister Amy will meet us at the airport and take us to our accommodation (thank god) and we'll probably spend the rest of that day wandering the streets of London looking like zombies.

The following day is Amy's birthday and we'll go to her place for a BBQ. She has some other typical tourist type activities planned for us for the next few days, and we have some other friends to catch up with, but nothing is set in stone. After four nights in London we're getting a train to Edinburgh where we'll be doing plenty of Fringe type activities and meeting George's dad there to see the military tattoo.

After three days in Edinburgh we're going to hire a car and drive to Ladykirk, where George's ancestors are from, and then down to Leeds, where my dad was born. We're going to find the house my dad was born in, take the requisite photo, then drop the car off and get a train back to London.

On Sunday 26 August we're going to the Reading Music Festival (for free thanks to Amy!), which will be headlined by the Smashing Pumpkins, George's all time favourite band. To say he's wetting his pants with excitement is an understatement.

After London we'll be heading over to Paris for four days, where we'll do all the usual touristy stuff and try to walk for several hours a day to make up for all the great food we'll be eating! Other possible activities will include a day tour to Champagne and a show at the Moulin Rouge. After this we'll meet up with George's dad again and hop on the train to Bordeaux for three days of wine tasting fun.

After Bordeaux we head down to San Sebastian in Spain for two days, then onto Zaragoza for another two days, followed by three days in Barcelona. From there George's dad goes home and we fly to Rome for four days. We hope to do a day trip to Pompeii or the Amalfi Coast or something similar while we're there. Then we go on to Florence, where we'll do a one day cycling tour through Tuscany, including wine and olive oil tasting and plenty of food. After three days in Florence we head to Venice where we will hopefully be staying in an apartment and cooking our own meals in an effort to save a bit of money for another three days.

From Venice we travel to Salzburg, Sound of Music country, for two days, followed by another two days in Vienna, where we'll see a performance at the Spanish Riding School. Then we go onto Prague for lots of cheap beer and dumplings. And as if three days of drinking beer in Prague wasn't enough, we then go to Munich for three days during the Oktoberfest, where we'll be staying 100 metres from the biggest beer garden in Europe!

We then go onto Berlin for three days, then we head for our final stop in Europe in Amsterdam for three days, where we'll go to see Anne Frank's house. After this we'll probably be quite glad to fly out and spend our last five days relaxing in Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam before coming back to Adelaide.

For more detail about the places we're visiting, check out our calendar.

This is going to be the longest week and a half ever...