He only went out for some milk

The End: A Time For Reckoning

all_powered_up — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 15:09:00 GMT

No toilet too dirty, no room too squalid, no food too weird and no insect too big...even when it's in my food. What an amazing diversity of landscapes - mountains stretching into the clouds, castaway island beaches, crystal clear blue seas, humid overgrown forests with rampant, blood sucking b@stard leaches, huge air-conditioned cities that never sleep, and villages that are in the middle of god knows where. Volcanic rocks to cut-up a lost traveller's shoes, awe inspiring glaciers, paddy fields as far as the eye can see, and bright green freshly cut grass to make a man think of home...

I only went out for some milk, but stumbled through 30 plus countries, and over 200 cities with nearly 700 days of travelling, before i returned to my parents' house (home?). A house full of my furniture, my paintings, my memories...but alas not my slippers it seems. It's been a week of discovery - do i really own 22 pairs of shoes!? Is Gordon Brown really prime minister!? and how the hell did Boris Johnson become London Mayor!? Do people really still watch Big Brother, has the English verbal language really deteriorated so much and how the hell did i go without English ale for nearly 2 years...warm and flat it isn't you Philistines :-)

Over 80 flights - not bad for a guy who said he will try and avoid them, 5 robberies (plus 1 near break-in by me in Thailand, i can still picture the blokes face as i tried to saw through the padlock), 1 case of food poisoning, 6 colds and 1 bout of home sickness - so maybe i do know where home is. I've generally found travelling incredibly easy, it had become my way of life - fitting in has become second nature. So much so, that sometimes it's difficult to know who i am. Other times I've felt incredibly free and capable of doing and being anything in the world. How can someone who has never been in this position understand this? Before i started this journey i felt driven; ready to burst; i could barely contain what was inside me. Now i feel saturated, lost and tired. What a huge worldly exposure to new people and places, different cultures, different mind-sets, outlooks and of course weird and wonderful food - an unbelievable assortment of sights, sounds and smells. I'm still digesting this journey i have taken - i feel i need another 2 years just to begin to understand...

...to understand what it can mean for me. I don't want to forget, and slip back into 'normal' life. How can this experience not change a person? and yet in what ways has it changed me?

...I am really not sure.

In 10 countries I've had well over a hundred dives, to become a master scuba diver, I've had 8 days of storm swept Thailand to learn how to supposedly skipper a sailing boat, 30 minutes of leg quivering rock climbing to learn that this is one occasion where i can't get over my fear of heights - and stuff the getting out of the comfort zone thing. I've lived, breathed and thought in a foreign language. I've been touched by a multitude of cultures, religions, beliefs, and histories - from Hitler's camps to those of Pol Pot. From Angkor ruins to Pearl Harbour to Mayan temples. What an incredibly lucky person i am to have been able to have had such experiences. How can i ever forget?

So many different places, so many different memories, so many different people - how can i remember even half of that i have experienced, never mind appreciate it, do I learn from it...or do I just be.

I'm back in England now. I guess my trip is over, i don't want to believe it. I've spent the last few weeks visiting friends, family and a few European cities that have been on my list for a while. I didn't want to stop travelling. I don't have a job, i don't really have a home and the last couple of months deciding what to do have been my most difficult yet. How can i go back to the capitalist, nanny society of England after what I've been through. Surely i should be saving the world by now, not returning to old ways and lifestyles. In the end it has boiled down to wanting what makes me tick, and i think that's a challenge that makes me grow. I have so much to learn.

I don't want to spend any more time writing blogs - this isn't the real world for me. It's time to go and live my life, however that may be.

Thank you

Shane

Dublin

all_powered_up — Tue, 27 May 2008 15:35:00 GMT

For one night only...with the time difference from New York it became one night and 3 days. 36 hours without sleep, continual rain, a pint of Guinness or 3, and so it's fair to say Dublin is a bit of a blur.

I remember talking politics with a lady in the bar - she didn't know England had the pound and believed Lisbon was in Australia, so it was an interesting discussion. I know I 'explored' the Temple Bar area of downtown and the National Gallery and I know I didn't take a single photograph, I also know I woke up the next morning at 10 minutes to 12, just before check-out...

Strangely I don't feel my short time in Ireland was a waste - one photo would have been good though!

New York

all_powered_up — Mon, 26 May 2008 15:35:00 GMT

New York

What a crazy and awesome 4 days. It didn't go with the best of starts, as I forgot to write down the name or address of my hostel - I then couldn't find an internet cafe to look up this slightly useful information. It took nearly 2 hours of wandering the streets in the dead of night with all my luggage, this might be the city that never sleeps, but apparently it is also the city that never uses internet cafes. I finally found a computer in a takeaway pizza place - the obvious location. Somehow, it turned out I was only 2 streets away from where I wanted to be. It was a knackered but tightly wound me that checked into my hostel around midnight, that's my excuse for finding the nearest pub. A pub that had served my favourite beer (Old Speckled Hen) and my favourite whisky (Oban). I may have created my own nightmare, but I ended it with some amazingly good luck. I was bloody happy to arrive.

There's something about Manhattan - a buzz, an energy, a certain look, an international vibe. There's too much going on to say what exactly it is. I know I felt completely at home, and that I was excited each day to see another part of this huge city - a city that has so many things to see and do. I went around like an idiot, I reckon I walked more than 20 miles that first day. My feet would testify to this - they hurt like hell for the next few days. I then hobbled around the city like an idiot instead. Central Park, The Statue of Liberty, Grand Union Station, The Rockefeller Centre, Times Square, Macy's, Bloomsbury's, 5th Street, 34th Street, all the streets in between these streets and more, The MoMA, The Metropolitan Museum, The Guggenheim, The Natural History Museum, The Empire State Building, Brooklyn, Bronx, Queens...a million tourists, a million workers, a never ending hive of activity and energy. Boy am I tired.

I didn't know quite what to expect from New York, even though I may have seen it a thousand times on TV. Reality is always different, and this is America, and I guess I have seen a lot and done a lot of late. My views are mixed up with my current circumstances: I can drink tap water again, I need to wear shoes and a coat, toilet paper goes in a toilet and although I sometimes need to repeat myself, people speak English. I'm sad for leaving Guatemala, and for my journey to be ending soon. I'm excited to be in a big city, to discover all these places I've seen since I was a child, to try a hot dog and to stand on a boat in front of The Lady - imagining myself coming to the land of apparent opportunity. Buildings may only be a couple of hundred years old at most, but they are big and exciting, and if the are like the Grand Union Station, they are a wonder to behold. I also like the multicultural medley of people, I don't feel an outsider here, and it's great to catch bits of Spanish, French and Polish amongst others. It almost feels like home...

Tulum and Cavern Diving

all_powered_up — Wed, 21 May 2008 20:35:00 GMT

-Que Paso?
-Yo quisiera poder una acta de un robo

In English that translates as
-What's up?
-Would you believe that some b@stard has just robbed me?

I got hit by a camera bag snatcher in the late hours, and was then too stunned and sandal laden to do much about it. I actually feel lucky, it's the fourth time I've been robbed on this trip and the second time in a week. Importantly it is the first time I've been able to report it for insurance purposes, and apart from about 2 photos I've not lost anything that can't be replaced. My main grievance is that i lost my remaining mp3 players, and now i don't have any music until i get home. When i reported the crime i wasn't asked when, how or even what the robber looked like. This is a great near ending to my trip.

The incident aside, i have had a good time here. Tulum isn't much to look at and although the ruins are famous i never did actually get to see them. Instead i walked for 3 hours in the blazing heat in the wrong direction. I thought my sense of direction was getting better! My highlight has been cavern diving in Dos Ojos cenote. I like the way i appreciate the culture and customs and don't go just for the touristic mandate. Actually Subway (the sandwich place) was my second highlight. I've never had diving like this, very few fish and certainly no sharks or big fish and no corals. Just little things and lots and lots of rock formations, amazingly blue openings and crystal clear waters. I couldn't tell i was in water - it was so clear, like diving in a magical, surreal wonderland. I am hooked, cavern diving has just overtaken wreck diving as my most favourite, expensive, hobby. It also happens to be one of the more dangerous divisions of diving...great.

As for Tulum, it's not even worth describing. If you want to dive, you like beaches and hotel complexes and ugly towns, then fine - this is the place for you. Roll on New York i say.

Belize and the Blue Hole

all_powered_up — Mon, 19 May 2008 00:11:00 GMT

I didn't really have the time for this, and i couldn't really afford this...but there was no way i was missing out on this. The blue hole is a 122m wide, 305m deep, now completely submerged, collapsed cave. I had been looking forward to this for months - i can't believe the dive only lasted only 25 minutes!

I'd taken what should have been an early morning mini-van from Flores to Belize city. The bus was an hour late and full of gringos, who thought it was a great idea to drink beer and listen to trance music at full volume. What a shame it was on so loud that a fuse blew. Since when did i become so intolerant of my fellow western (civilised?) travellers. The driver obviously shared my sentiments, at the border crossing he parked 1/2 mile away and hid himself behind a truck - for 1/2 an hour we thought he might have left us stranded in Belize. This wouldn't have been such a bad thing, Belize has come as a surprise. A tiny, beautiful, but seemingly empty country of only 3.2 people, with a strong Caribbean flavour and a large English speaking element. Why did Britain 'give-it-up' in '81? 2 hours later than planned i catch a water taxi to Caye Caulker, another one of those dream islands that makes you want to check out the local property pages.

White sands and coconuts are everywhere, electric golf carts (but near no golf courses) 'zoom' up and down the 2 main streets, followed by a family all on bicycles. The spoken English has been distorted so much, it could class as a separate language, gospel choir music blasts out of someones tumbled down shack. It has been mixed with a reggae track and every few seconds some Caribbean guy in a thick lilt shouts REGGAE at the top of his lungs. I personally find it an improvement. I had a good chance to test my belief when one of the many church congregations set-up an electric keyboard playing, foot stomping, praise the lord session next to the building i was staying in. I sat on my balcony and drank to their good health every time they shouted hallelujah...amen and cheers guys.

At $190 for 3 dives, this is an expensive place. It's not everyday that you get to dive to 43m in a sinkhole, get circled by 9 Caribbean reef sharks - all bigger than you and enjoy the whole thing immensely through a slight nitrogen narcosis buzz. Why am i so susceptible? That's not a complaint :-) Lunch was on a near deserted island, with only a bird sanctuary and my friendly fellow divers for company. Pudding was a dive with eagle rays, sharks, giant barracudas and a hawks bill turtle - not bad that.

It's a shame my only real time in Belize is on a tourist island and that i got robbed while i was there. Someone, possibly the cleaner stole my little creative zen mp3 player from my room. It's pretty hard to make too much fuss when it only cost $50, you have no proof it was stolen and it would cost more in excess to make an insurance claim. The owners of the building were pretty good though, i half expected to get thrown out when i raised the problem.

Overall it was still a good few days, if i ever have enough money i would like see this area again.

Flores and Tikal

all_powered_up — Thu, 15 May 2008 00:02:00 GMT

I opted for a flight from Guatemala city to Flores - i didn't fancy the 10 - 12 hours on the bus this time. As i step off the plane the heat slams into me - 90+F and the humidity to match. I will now sweat non-stop for the next 2 days, I've become adjusted to my high altitude escape called Xela. Damn, i need to get that place out of my head, and enjoy where i am.

Deep in the jungle, still partially covered in vegetation, surrounded by birds and animals, Tikal is an impressive site and worthy of its UNESCO World Heritage status. It's hard to believe that the Maya and their magnificent structures were around from 700BC to 900AD in this area - before mysteriously 'collapsing'. It's hard to get a feeling of where everything is, and the scale of the place - there's just so much jungle everywhere. I'd opted for a guide for once, and although he proves to be a smart, intelligible and informative young man, most of what he says washes right over my head and in between my ears. I should have done my usual, and spent the day soaking up the feel of the place. Even our noisy group sees lots of birds, a grey fox and several pisotes - raccoon looking things. This is a place worth seeing more than once.

I'd based myself in Flores, a small sort of island in a lake that is linked to the mainland by a thin causeway. It's an attractive tourist town, full of cobbled streets, colourful houses, gift shops and places selling tours. Tuk-tuks zoom up and down the winding lanes and there is always someone nearby who can 'help' a tourist. This isn't a bad place to be, just an expensive, slightly characterless and overly commercial one. A pity because Flores was once one of the last Maya ceremonial strongholds - untouched by the Spanish until the end of the 17th century - then the Spanish destroyed just about everything. Us conquering countries have a lot to answer for.

Antigua

all_powered_up — Tue, 13 May 2008 23:17:00 GMT

Nestled in a valley, and surrounded by volcanoes is this rabbit warren of multi-coloured houses, earthquake damaged churches and cobbled traffic filled streets. All streets are straight and run north to south and east to west around a pleasant central square. They have original names like avenue 1, avenue 2, avenue 3 etc - and yet it's surprisingly easy to get 'lost'. There's a distinct lack of signage/advertisements, most buildings are only on 2 levels and are joined together in a very understated, yet colourful, terraced row. I walked into a Burger King, not knowing what it was until i was in it. I'm just starting to recover from the shock. I didn't know what half the shops were until it was dark and they were lit up inside.

So it's another tourist town - package groups and lots of language students. I don't love this place, but i do quite like it. It has a strange charm because i think it lacks a sense of being genuine - it's too picture perfect.

I actually stayed in it for few days before i went to Xela, fully anticipating to see it again on my way back. That never happened, so this is fortunately a truncated, and past remembered account. If only they were all as short as this.

Quelzaltenango (Xela) part three

all_powered_up — Mon, 12 May 2008 19:12:00 GMT

I didn't want to leave this place...so i didn't...

I extended my stay yet again for as long as i physically (time travelling each day) and financially (bus v plane) dared. I have a flight booked from Mexico to the States next week. Alas i feel i must take it.

It's been an intensive and emotional last 3 weeks; a combination derived from the people I have met, my studies in Spanish and my travel time coming to an end. Michelle and her son Mario have allowed me to feel part of a family - I've felt honoured, even loved. Kim my housemate has allowed me into her confidence - I've done my best to be a friend. If ever there had been an emotionally difficult time in someones life, this has to be it. I'm not talking about just me...

So I've finished a 2nd week of study in Xela, my 5th week in total. It's a woefully inadequate amount of time. I've explored Xela's museum of culture and history - managing not to throw-up at their stuffed animals and human foetus collection - I can still smell that room. I've been shown Fuentes Georginas, a beautiful series of hot springs amongst the clouds and some cool places in Xela that maybe only 6 months of living there can let you find. I'm still not sure what it is about this place that i like so much; of all the amazing places I've seen! Perhaps it's the people that make all the difference.

It's nearly time to throw off my manacles of materialism, speak Spanish fluently, dance the salsa and be free. How wonderfully pretentious I'm sounding today...

Quelzaltenango (Xela) part two

all_powered_up — Fri, 9 May 2008 16:25:00 GMT

So it's been 2 and a bit weeks of semi-immersion. I opted not to stay with a family; right now i value my own space more than anything. Besides everything is in Spanish, my lessons, my meals, my shopping...everything. At times it's bloody difficult, and you crave to hear and talk in English. At other times it's a stumbling, hesitant, bad accented, wrong tensed, verbal joy. My lessons are generally 8am to 1pm, with different activities in the evening or afternoon. The last day of the working week is supposed to be where the students cook some food from their own country. Last week we had Cornish pasties (England - me), shakshouka (Israeli), Crepes with banana and chocolate (France), Potato salad, oaty peanut butter chocolate biscuit things and sangria (all the USA). We should of had hot dogs too, but the guy drank so much during the day that he was incapable of talking, never mind cooking by dinner time. It was a good experience shopping for ingredients, discovering how different some things are here and then cooking them by candlelight...

I tried a couple of times to turn on the oven, failed and asked Juan, the director at the school. I swear i hadn't had the gas on that long, but maybe my judgement was a bit off...i may have had a drink or three. Maybe Juan's judgement was off too...he may have had a drink or five. There was a lighted match, a little poof, and then an almighty bang. I got hit in the chest by a wall of pressure, Juan got hit in the head by the same thing. He did unfortunately have his head very near the oven at the time. The wave continued, knocked out the filament in the light bulb, and blew a load of rusty metal pieces all over the kitchen. You could say the meal went with a bang.

I don't want to leave this place...

Quelzaltenango (Xela) part 1

all_powered_up — Wed, 7 May 2008 23:11:00 GMT

Xela is an interesting city, although i didn't think so at first. I Arrived late at night by a bus with some locals, a long journey and a long, slightly painful lesson in how little Spanish i actually do know. Xela's dark and seemingly dingy alleyways were not a welcoming sight. I'd come here to climb Volcan Tajumulco - Central Americas highest point at 4220m. Instead i end up staying (so far) for over 2 weeks, taking Spanish lessons, getting to know the city and some of its people, and blowing up ovens.

I like Xela, Guatemalas 2nd city. It has what i can only describe as a feeling of realness. I don't feel like a wallet here, i can usually go into a shop or a market and pay the same price as the locals. It's an interesting place too - a mixing pot of cultures. I've spent a lot of time just walking the streets. The cobbled, often steep and badly kept roads are hardly conducive for it, but the interesting vistas and the variety of people make it worth while.

In my sandled, stand out a mile as a tourist feet, i walk past old men, standing tall at 5 feet nothing-but-a-10-gallon-hat. The hat is some how dwarfed by the enormous bundle balanced on their wives head. A bundle of brightly coloured cloths, that are complimentary to the 6m (20 feet) of it that is wrapped around her for a skirt. There are literally hundreds of different and interesting faces, traditional 'costumes' and styles. My photos do not, do this place justice. I have so few photos that manage to capture the character of the city and its people. I think this is from a combination of factors; people tend to take a lot less photos of places and people of where they actually live, and I'm moving around a lot less. Also there isn't the usual language barrier, and although i register the different people and places, i feel very much at home - I don't want to intrude by pointing a camera at someone. Most likely it's because I'm losing whatever little talent i ever had.

I have a feeling here that i rarely had in Asia - acceptance. I could be kidding myself, but it feels genuine. People have been really nice here, and it seems to be for nothing more than my company. Michelle, the boss lady of my casa invited me and another guest out with her and her son to a town with a locally very famous market. It was a fun and interesting day - lots of indigenous people, a thriving market and good company. I've had the opportunity to play Scrabble with her family, and later tonight I'm going out with a local. The day before yesterday i was being taught salsa by Kim (another guest) in the kitchen of our house, and earlier i had to turn down Daniel (yet another guest) who invited me to a nightclub with him. Combined with my long discussions of a million topics with my teacher and i feel like I've been here awhile - I'm pretty comfortable at the moment.

Copán Ruinas

all_powered_up — Mon, 21 Apr 2008 00:27:00 GMT

It feels as if my time is running out and yet my days are getting longer. Is this a side-effect of spending more time in places? A sort of 'more haste, less speed' scenario that I've never really understood - does that saying really make any sense? If you take longer and do less, does that mean that you see more?

Some backpackers would say, that the only real way to travel is to spend a lot of time in one place. I don't disagree with this, but i know that it hasn't in general been what i want. My express train of a journey has been from a desire to see as much as possible, tempered by an unwillingness to leave a place until I'm ready...until now. I don't know if i want to stay here and i don't know where i want to go next. I've been derailed by the check-stop that's the reality of my trip ending soon. One of the reasons for coming to this town, was so that i could study some more Spanish. I've been here 4 days and i still haven't signed-up for a lesson - in fact apart from spending several hours seeing the ruins, I'm not sure what exactly i have done. I'm guessing the above reasons are why this seems to be the normal of late, and why I've been letting fate dictate where i go and how. How come travelling has just got difficult?

1 boat, 2 taxis, 2 buses and a bunch of fellow friendly backpackers sees me arrive around 9pm in Copan after 15 hours of travelling. It was cool to be part of a group for once and i had a strange morning with a Swiss guy i met - several hours in a cafe while avoiding national demonstrations and a security guard who wanted to 'f*** him up'. He demanded payment in food from my friend while we were in the cafe - that's an unusual occurrence, even by my reckoning. Still I'm in Copan now and this is a pleasant, picture postcard town. Pretty posados (inns), cobbled streets, a nice central square, mountains as a backdrop and the steep roads to go with them. There's also lots of tourists, gift shops, cafes and restaurants, a noticeable lack of rubbish, and yet again, it's not the kind of town that you would expect to find here in Central America. I like this place, it has a safe feel to it, people seem very friendly and it's within walking distance of its namesake - the ruins.

The Copan ruins are a lovely Mayan (AD 250-900) archaeological site, of a now present day heritage world UNESCO site. I spent a few hours just aimlessly wandering around the perfectly manicured grounds and clambering over what is left of the ruins. I always feel guilty for this. I decided to forgo a guide as it was $25 and i didn't feel like being part of a group, and I also decided to not pay the $15 entry charge to the tunnels as it was too expensive. Later on i bribed a groundsman to let me in - i feel a bit guilty about that too. I'd rather the money went to the upkeep of the site than into some guys pocket. $15 for less than 10 minutes of sightseeing is ridiculously expensive though. The museum (another $8) was almost as interesting as the ruins. A snake like tunnel for an entrance leads to an open quadrangle containing many of the original and best pieces. It's centre is a full scale replica of the Rosalila temple - the perfectly preserved temple that's buried beneath one of the ruins, which you can just get a glimpse of in one of the tunnels. I had a really enjoyable morning, but i wonder how long it will take me to get fed-up of seeing ruins?

I guess I'll find out over the next few weeks...maybe.

Utila

all_powered_up — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 01:05:00 GMT

Whale sharks...that's the only reason for me being here. A chance to dive or snorkel with the elusive beauties. It's probably people like me that have scared them off - this is one of the so-called whale shark seasons, and they haven't been spotted for a month. For once i doubt there will be a next time, i don't particularly wish to return here.

Utila is the western hemispheres answer to Koh Tao. A backpacker filled, churn-a-certified-diver-out-a-minute party island of almost home comfort. Pizza, chocolate, cinema, bars, pubs and clubs - all in English, all full of beautiful, fit, tattoo riddled, young divers. No wonder some people get stuck here. Not me though, I've come for the diving - 10 dives of beautiful corals, crap equipment and what i consider a lack of variety and even number of fish. I think they've been scared off too. I did get to see a long snouted seahorse though, and i almost got to snorkel with a large pod of spinner dolphins...

A few dolphins had separated from the main group and were playing right in front of our little boat. After a while the main group started to come over, the Captain judged the timing, we all lined up an the sides of the boat, snorkels, masks, fins at a ready..."1, 2, 3, GO!" arms, legs and bubbles everywhere. Mask has come off, quick put it on...arms, legs and nothing...they've all been and gone. They whizzed right on past us, only a couple of people in the group saw the pod under the water. Still, i had a couple of great dives and bizarrely one of my best was because of the rain. Yes rain, I'd almost forgotten what it is - I've only seen it a dozen or so times in the last year and a bit. This was rain to make up for all that i had missed, and we were diving it - it was bloody freezing. Going under the water was a warm relief and have you ever seen rain smashing on top of the sea from underneath it? It's a purely magical experience. Near the surface you can see the individual drops shooting into the water like bullets and the noise was strangely a comfort to me - like rain on the roof when you're wrapped up warm and safe inside. I spent most of my 2 dives floating on my back or laying on the bottom looking up, i couldn't tell you what fish i saw.

I don't really like the island, go to the back lanes of the main town and it's a dirty slum. Go to the Cays - the tiny islands off the SW coast and it's great. Development seems to have been unplanned, or badly managed and it isn't very attractive. There's a good feeling to the island though, and i can appreciate why people like it.

I'm looking forward to my next stop and for once i know where I'm going - i wonder if I'll make it this time?

The End Of Nicaragua?

all_powered_up — Wed, 9 Apr 2008 20:30:00 GMT

"Some things change" (my plans), "and some things do not" (my lack of time). It's a strange series of events that sees me not staying in Nicaragua any longer - as I'd envisaged doing. Due to a mix of timings, border crossings, costs, cancellations and fate i end up catching 4 taxis, 3 flights, one boat and a 4am bus to my final destination; Utila, one of the Bay islands of Honduras. It took me 3 days to do it and came as a slight surprise.

I've spent just over 6 weeks in Nicaragua, long enough to have some sense of it. In a recent International survey it scored the worst of the Central American countries for how well it's set-up to take tourists. Its also the poorest of the mainland countries as regards to GDP, is racked with inflation, and like most of its neighbours, suffers from a lot of violence. I never felt i was in any personal danger, but i was often made uncomfortable (as always) by the freak/celebrity status a Cheles (white/European) like me can attract. Rubbish is everywhere - something else i can never get used to. The environment is not a real concern, the country is too poor for that. The diet is fairly bland with beans and rice 3 times a day and yet bizarrely the population suffers hugely from obesity. A saved up treat for the family is to go and visit Pizza Hut. Beggars are everywhere, and there are many westerners who seem to only be there to exploit a poorer, developing country that is co-incidentally dominated by religion. The state is tied to the church, and from my non-religious, European basis, i count that as a huge negative. That's quite a long list i guess, and yet i like Nicaragua - i recommend it as a place to visit. It's more interesting and raw, i think than Costa Rica. It also has some beautiful parks and volcanoes and i have a lot of good memories from my time there: An idyllic but intensive life at a Spanish school, asking for a little Thursday for breakfast instead of eggs, snoozing in a hammock, making my teacher laugh and eating the best homemade pizza in the world. Having a conversation in Spanish for the first time in my life and learning the definition of guapo (handsome - and those Nica girls must be blind). Meeting westerners who do care and really make a difference to their local communities.

Ill be back someday i think.

Little Corn Island

all_powered_up — Sun, 6 Apr 2008 20:28:00 GMT

I think I've been travelling too long. Last night i watched the film Nottinghill and from my laughter you would think it the funniest film ever made. Earlier in the day my dive group was circled by more reef sharks of about 3m length than i could count (it turns out one of the girls had a nose bleed). I didn't bat an eyelid, raise a smile or even breathe any heavier - and it wasn't to conserve air. Right now I'm wrapped in a thinking bubble of my life and what to do with it - a heart versus head battle. Sometimes it's hard just to be, and enjoy the moment - have i really got less than 2 months of travelling left, 2 months some people would give their right leg for...

So I'm in little corn island, it's a slice of almost Caribbean heaven (does that taste like rum?) - it has no roads, no cars, no scooters and an intermittent electricity supply. When the lights go out at night, you can see nothing but a million stars. To get to the 'happening' spot on the island you have to walk through the jungle with a torch. You can walk from one end of the island to the other in less than an hour, passing trees of mangos, coconuts, bread fruits and many i forget the names of. The sea is a gorgeous blue, the sand is fine, almost white and the sunsets are spectacular. It's everything i don't need right now, i should be learning Spanish. Island life, bars full of ice-cold beers, nice diving sites and a realisation that there is no should in my life, and that maybe i can't do this many more times, has meant me extending my flights back to Managua twice already. This is one backpacker expensive, yet realistically inexpensive splurge. Who in their right mind gets a $30 room/house just so they can have a movie channel - they don't care about the a/c or the en-suite and especially not the hot shower. It's supposedly hot water because it has an electric cable connected to it, the reality is cold water and a really nasty shock if you accidentally touch the shower. I don't think i am quite in a 'right mind', i tell you I've been travelling too long.

I don't know where my time has really gone - 10 days have sailed by already. i know most days i eat half a fresh pineapple for breakfast (until my teeth start to melt). I know that everyday i eat lunch in my favourite cafe overlooking the sea and that in the evening i watch the sunset, hoping for an elusive green flash. I know supper tends to be warm, freshly baked coconut bread along with a pot noodle - I always wish for multi grain bread, and when did travelling reduce me to eating pot noodles! Even as a malnourished student i didn't touch them. I know most days i go diving...

How could i not write a bit more about my favourite, bankrupting hobby. It's a laid back, uncrowded setting - surrounded by some pristine corals. I've had a close encounter with a giant of a hammerhead and a very, very close encounter with a giant of a Caribbean reef shark. We were in an enclosed cavern at the start of a tunnel/swim through. Our presence startles the 'sleeping' beauty, it wakes up with frantic moves and heads straight towards me. I try to back up, but i have nowhere to go. Neither does the shark it seems - we are blocking the entrance. It's still coming towards me - do i punch or kick it flashes through my mind, but i can't manoeuvre as I'm in such a tight space. Just before (and i mean just before), it reaches me it veers away and finds a hole in the ceiling. Even this wasn't enough to create more than a split second of adrenaline. Later in the dive i spot a spindly little crab with blue claws, i get so excited that i nearly forget about the other divers...i tell you, I'm not normal.

Island life comes as a surprise after my time in central America - life is super chilled. At one point i owed 5 different bills around the island, as they all had no change. Pay me tomorrow they say - at least i think they do. They speak a mix of pigeon English, Creole, Spanish and Miskito - most of the time i have no idea what is being said. I ordered a takeaway pizza the other night (that makes the island sound commercialized, but it's not). 2 hours later, after I've made 3 separate orders (which pizza..then which size...then which thickness) i get told "we an got no bo", which i believe meant that this fine establishment has unfortunately run out of take-away boxes. I get handed an enormous, red hot baking tray with a pizza and then a tea towel on top. It was 2 more days before i could pay for it.

It's definitely time to get back to the reality of rice and beans - arroz and frijoles, frijoles and arroz, with no spam in sight.

Where to next i wonder?

Around Catarina

all_powered_up — Fri, 28 Mar 2008 18:26:00 GMT

Around 3 times a week we go on activities, and a few of us have paid for extra trips too. Butterfly and seed collecting, walks around the laguna seeing monkeys and birds, trips to nearby towns and museums, a fiesta in Masaya with lots of dancing and semi naked overweight girls (i particularly enjoyed that one), 6000 year old foot prints captured in volcanic ash in Managua, political prisons, insurrection Sandinista collections, volcano tours and scuba dives in the lake. The last two were great. The volcano tour was around volcan Masaya and included walking down to the craters edge until our mouths were full of sulphur, our throats burned and our eyes streamed so we couldn't see. After this we walked through huge clouds of acidic smoke, watched the sun set with in a beautifully polluted sky and went to see a cave full of bats and guano until a bat hit me in the face and we felt faint from the fumes. I hope my travel insurance covers me for these activities. I wonder if i could claim for a hair replacement treatment course, and blame my disappearing hair on travel dangers.

The scuba was great too - this lake contains maybe 9 endemic species of fish (they are found no where else and have evolved in the lake). It's a strange dive for me, being in freshwater, in a crater lake, devoid of coral and tropical fish, not requiring a wetsuit, guided by a guide who shouts Spanish at me, and with big unexpected crabs, and bubbles leaking through the porous rock.

It's been nice to stay in one place for a while, get to know locals better, get a better feel for a place and not have to unpack Bob all the time. My Spanish has improved a lot, although it's still very poor (un paca as my dad writes). I've got a feel for Nicaragua, and overall i like it. It's the poorest of mainland central America, it's inflation is rife and it has a very interesting history: from evolution right through to the last few decades of war. I'm glad i came here and got off the tourist trail for a while.

Semana Santa

all_powered_up — Sat, 22 Mar 2008 16:18:00 GMT

Nicaragua is a very religious country - the state is very much tied to the catholic church. As such it has great laws such as no abortions - not even in the case of a raped child. It's a common scenario here, so it's fortunate that there aren't illegal hospitals. Another brilliant tradition is the holy week of Semana santa - there's a national holiday for a week to celebrate Easter. So the population takes a reverent approach by getting extremely drunk before heading for the nearest large expanses of water, in which to try and drown themselves.

Sarcasm aside, this is a bizarre celebration. A combination of street parades, increased church congregations, drunken people laying in the street, 100's of non-swimming people in the local lakes and as much noise as inhumanely possible. I enjoyed it tremendously for a day, but only because i was drunk, didn't have any classes and am capable of swimming. This year around 29 people died of drowning in Nicaragua in this week alone (another 27 were murdered and 9 died from motor incidents!). I'm told over 100 have died in previous years. A couple who were staying at the school witnessed 3 near drowning in 3 days - half filled beer bottles help you float allegedly. I saw countless people - male and female who couldn't stand up, some decided to stay on the floor for the night. I also saw fights and arguments and even got involved in some bother as i had my camera on me while an argument was occurring. I´m glad i blended in with the locals.

It was pretty much a nightmare trying to study at the school for a whole week. I'm so glad i got to witness this holy event and feel part of the Nicaraguan culture. God bless us all.

So You Want to Learn Spanish? - Laguna de Apoyo

all_powered_up — Fri, 21 Mar 2008 20:17:00 GMT

A scorpion in my shower, a tarantula in my bedroom, ants in my bed, flies in my soup (seriously), 3 flea ridden, but lovable dogs, a tame wild pig that thinks it's a dog, lots of trees and wildlife including hummingbirds, woodpeckers, and bats...plus 4 hours of lessons in Spanish a day. Add a freshwater, volcanic, crater lake no more than 30m away, and you have a lot of distractions for an ageing student, who's never been good at languages. Yes I'm finding it difficult to learn.

I'm 'supposed' to be studying in Guatemala by now, but i sort of got stuck here. I like the surroundings, the people, the simple lifestyle - although i have been stir crazy a couple of times. I'm also supposed to be eating, sleeping and thinking Spanish, but instead i find myself eating bugs, sleeping with bugs and dreaming of chocolate. In the evening i often chat with the other students - in English...I'm a hopeless student.

Life is certainly different here. I'm awake everyday at dawn (usually itching). My lessons start at 8am, and last until 12.30 with a break at 10.30. Then we stop for one of the 3 meals that are supplied to us. I particularly like the very Nicaraguan food of pizza - generally the food has been great and not just rice and beans, although we do have them everydayand for every meal. There's a fridge full of help yourself, honesty system beers and a large balcony with which to watch the world of man and animal go by. I have local teachers who speak virtually no English and fellow students from all over the world. It's been interesting, but a fairly intensive 3 weeks. It's been a fairly serious Shane, for at least 1 week of them. Some days I've studied for 10 hours or more and felt like i have remembered nothing. My most common words are no entiendo/conozco/recuerdo - i don't understand/know/remember. Bizarrely some days the whole class is spent chatting - it's a twilight zone of how and what. Topics of politics, Nicaraguan history and wars, religion. prostitution, abortion, how crap (Nicaraguan) men are, other cultures, UFO sightings of the 2 of the other students, and loco gringo's are all discussed in detail. I really don't know how this has occurred, my verbal spanish is pretty awful. Yet I know all about the unfortunate history of one of my nice but unhappy teachers and how she ended up without a father herself and a father to her two kids. A very common and sad tale i hear again and again. Sometimes travelling can be a depressing, sobering experience. I am muy suerte as i tell her again and again. I really feel very lucky too.

The school is a non-profit organisation, ran by locals and a hippy jefe as i call him (hippy gringo boss). It's a nice set-up, maybe not always the most efficient endeavour, but an enjoyable one none the less. I particular like the gossip i get to hear from everybody. Some of it is truly incredible - who says village life is boring.

Learning Spanish is not easy, I'm not in the immersion method, sort of a half-way house. 4 hours a day is tiring though. Add to it excursions and the meeting of locals, most of it in Spanish and you can't help but pick some stuff up. I started my time here, knowing virtually no Spanish except to ask for a bus to somewhere and now i can talk about UFOs and abortions...it's important to concentrate on the necessary stuff.

Granada

all_powered_up — Sat, 8 Mar 2008 20:14:00 GMT

I was looking forward to Granada, described by some as the jewel of Nicaragua - my first impressions aren't so good though. A heaving market, lots of rubbish, squashed vegetables and fruit in the street, a jostling crowd dodging fume spewing vehicles, dozens of TVs blaring out everything from Pokemon to kung-fu, a million dodgy Cd's and DVD´s stacked along the side of the road and lots of competing stereos doing their best to get through the whole collection. Did i mention the noise, the dirt or the smells?

Ignoring first impressions as I've learnt to do, I've now come to quite like Granada. Most of it was burnt to the ground by a filibuster called William Walker about 150 years ago and now the whole town has been restored, or is still in the process of restoration. The result is a colourful maze of characterful streets, rustic houses and beautiful churches all of which can be purveyed by horse drawn carts for the rich and touristy. The central park is a delight, mango trees provide shade for perfectly placed, people watching benches. Lined old men spend their days sat around talking while the women take care of the tiny stands selling nicknack's only a tourist could find a use for. All is overlooked by gorgeous cafes, churches and hotels. The whole town is virtually one level high and the view from one of the church towers is spectacular - not a KFC in sight.

Of course it's not all good; tourists and beggars are everywhere, and a walk down a side street becomes a tour de force of smells - fumes, food, the ever present urine and the stomach pervading scent of horse poo. Outside the main drag it doesn't have the safest feeling at night time...I like Granada though, it grows on me everyday.

Isla de Ometepe

all_powered_up — Mon, 3 Mar 2008 20:11:00 GMT

A small island made up of two volcanoes in the middle of a big, freshwater lake that contains bull sharks - it sounds a bit surreal right?

I couldn't miss the opportunity to see this place, my mistake was heading for the beach area called Santo Domingo. With few shops, mostly package tour guests staying in overpriced hotels, a beach and lots of dirt tracks it wasn't what i wanted right now. It also seems I'm the only guest who wants to hike up one of the volcanoes, a tour or a guide from the hotel isn't an option for me. It takes me 45 minutes non-stop cycling just to get to where a trail starts and there's no handy English speaking guides just waiting for a gringo like me to turn-up, so i end up trying to cycle up the thing myself. My bike unusually doesn't have a basket and it generously has at least oh, 3 working gears. It' a tough attempt to say the least.

Ometepe is an unusual setting, you are never from from being able to see one of the volcanoes. A short distance from the hotels shows a more rural, what you might expect Nicaraguan scene. The island doesn't have the beggars of some places, but it does have some of the poverty. It has lots of ramshackle huts, families living off the land and lots of children who are fortunate enough to be able to go to school. It was as school bus that usually bumped me around the island on it's generally unsealed, dirt roads, or spewed dust into my face as i attempted to walk/cycle around the place.

I'm a little disappointed with my choice of where to stay and as a result of what i then didand saw (which wasn't a great deal). Ometepe is an interesting little place though, worth seeing for sure.

Into Nicaragua

all_powered_up — Sun, 2 Mar 2008 20:01:00 GMT

My blog is an edited, condensed account of what has happened on my trip. I miss out a lot of stuff as it's long enough already, and besides i forget a lot of things because I've been travelling a while, and most things become normal - hence not worthy of comment. So just for a change i thought i´d try and describe the realities of what i consider a fairly 'normal', did very little, travelling kind of day.

Around 8am i got out of bed, did i sleep? My room's a dingy, small, much want of a clean hotel room in Liberia. It was a sweaty, almost fetid night. I forgo the freezing cold shower and put on all of yesterdays clothes. It's going to be a full day of travelling, and my so called cleanliness will last as long as it takes me to get out the door. I guess some standards slip. I forgo breakfast too, buses tend to travel early in the day, and I'm later than I'd like, besides as always i have a bag full of just in case provisions. I take the 'hoteliers' directions to the bus stop - 5 blocks over and 3 up. I don't think I've seen a street sign yet. There's surprisingly few people around, but plenty of rubbish and the smells to go with it. A heavy Bob, a 1km walk and the fact that it´s already steaming hot make a nice combination. Yesterday was some sort of celebration with lots of brass band things - i stayed well away, it was my kind of hell. The station is heaving, i fend of taxi drivers, lottery/watch/ice-cream/water/cd/dvd touts and ask for a ticket to Peñas Blanco at the ticket office. My pronunciation must be OK, i get a stream of Spanish back in return. I gather i buy the ticket on board and the bus leaves from terminal 3. It's an educated guess, he could have told me I've got the wrong bus station and that the other is 3km away. I rely on body language as always, I'm pretty sure it's here. There are no terminal numbers of course, but there is a long queue at the 3rd bay from the end and a huge pile of people's stuff - it makes sense. I look around, there are 5 other westerners dotted around - we stick out like a sore thumb. 2 brothers and a small family? - brave of them to travel with a kid. Eventually a bus comes in with my town written on the front, this must be it. It takes me a while to make sure Bob is stored safely on board, and by that time there's standing room only. It's a hot, cramped 2 hour journey only broken by food sellers and money changers wafting huge wads of cordobas before my face. I understand virtually none of the constant chatter, usually i apply a well toned ability to switch off. Screaming kids, loud voices, blaring music, foreign languages are normally all drowned out - my defence mechanism i guess. Here i deliberately listen, i really want to learn Spanish.

With a machine gun speed announcement i think we have arrived. The 5 westerners and i are all the last to get off the bus of course. It´s nearing mid day now, the sun is blazing straight overhead and there is a huge line of fume pouring vehicles to walk past. I know I'm going the right way as the number of money changers has increased. They believe you wouldn't notice them unless they thumb a huge wad of notes just under your nose. I have a about a dollars worth of colones in coins to get rid of before i cross the border. They either refuse to take the coins or all give me the same poor rate. Every negotiation takes micro-seconds - i conclude one and then get an abrupt dismissal. What happened to the in your face guy? It's like it's a dodgy deal and they're trying to get it over with as quickly as possible. Maybe they're embarrassed to rip me off so much. More touts, a deluge of taxi drivers shouting each other down and then a row of form holding locals and a sign saying immigracion. This must be it, but the form holding touts is a new one, i ask a guy near me in English what it's about. He doesn't look English, in fact he looked like a Hispanic gang member, but somehow i think he can speak the language. He's fluent in English and Spanish - I've no idea how i could tell. It turns out that for a fee these guys will fill in the immigration form for you and it just so happens that they have all of the blank forms. He's paid a dollar to have his done. I don't mind paying a local for a fair job, but taking away a free form for those who can fill them in just annoys me. With a bit of deliberate mis-understanding but lots of smiles, i get a blank form - i guess to them I'm a jerk, but a happy one. The immigration officer doesn't even look at the form, a quick stamp over the top of an existing one (I'm running out of room and she couldn't be bothered to find a space) and I'm out of Costa Rica heading into Nicaragua.

Again it's not obvious where to go - why is it nearly always like this? I'm with my Spanish speaking amigo, even he hasn't got a clue and he's done this before. He's from El Salvador, grew up in Texas and now lives in Panama. He left El Salvador due to gang problems (i thought so), and then left the U.S. as he got deported, i like how i pick them. We meet a another English guy on our way to what we hope is the Nicaraguan border. He's been through already, is part of a bus group, but he's lost them and is obviously hopeless. We help him the best we can but i think he's beyond our help. I was never like that surely. Lots more touts, all fended off in Spanish by my amigo, he even gets me a blank form to save me the hassle. Another long queue and again he has his filled in for a charge, he should have asked me as I would have saved him a buck - i give him a stick of gum instead. We meet the English guy again - he's spent 2 months working in Costa Rica, can't speak any Spanish, doesn't even know what the Nicaraguan currency is called and is embarrassingly impressed by my full passport - which I'm flicking through to try and find the stamp they will want to see in a minute. Later on i overhear him tell his bus group how he's just met an English guy who's been travelling for 5 years...idiot. Finally i reach the front, he removes my filled in form and loses the place where the stamp was, takes an age to find it - to prove I've left Costa Rica? and then refuses to give me change out of $20 for the $7 charge. I'm used to this in shops but at a border control? I'm surrounded by gringo's - he must have suitcases full of change. I have nothing smaller, so i have no choice but to stand my ground. He makes me wait an age, frowning at me all the time. It's more amusing that annoying - what would i do if he wouldn't let me in?

I part with my amigo, who's job i discover is training strippers how to dance sexy. This guy is about 5 feet 7 tall and 4 feet 7 wide with a shaved head, beard and tattoos - i just can't imagine him doing that. That's probably for the best, I'd have nightmares otherwise. In Spanish i ask for where the bus is to Rivas, and receive my usual fluent unintelligible reply. A tiny Alice in Wonderland door behind a building is my exit, $1 to pass through it and a long attempt by a taxi driver to get me to go with him. He tells me there are no buses to Rivas - yeah right. 1 minute later I'm sat on the bus next to my El Salvadorian mate. It's an interesting 45 minute ride - it turns out he's a Muslim, really wants to go on the Hajj, sets guys up with girls (read between the lines), is on a trip buying and selling stuff across the borders and finds it absolutely impossible to believe that i don't believe in god. Fantastic.

I get dropped off in the middle of Rivas, with absolutely no idea where i am, no street signs and no bus to San Jorge in sight. Sometimes you have to bite the bullet - i fork out $1.25 and get a taxi for the 6km journey to the ferry terminal. As soon as i arrive I'm jumped on by touts - taxis?, boat ride?, accommodation?, food?...this is just like Asia again. I opt for a ferry ticket rather than a local crossing. Last time i ended up in the wrong place wading through water up to my chest with Bob on my head.

It's been over 5 hours of travelling already, I've not had a proper meal nor even been to the toilet since getting up. It's a fine balance between being caught out on a bus and being dehydrated - i don't think I've got the hang of it yet. The views where i am are amazing: beach, lake and 2 surreal volcanoes. Time to enjoy a meal, listen to a Spanish lesson and chill for an hour while i wait for the ferry. The ferry is pretty full and we get entertained with a music video and then a safety briefing - all on the very loud TV´s. The music video is 2 semi-naked girls 'dancing' with each other in a confined space while holding chickens, and the safety video is a hand-held DIY job with a girl who seems to be trying to make love to the camera. I love this country.

It will be another 3 hours of boat and bus, room asking and checking, dust breathing and sun blazing, people meeting and watching. Just another day in a travellers life. This is easy travelling though - even with my language ignorance. In fact most of my travelling is very easy, these are generally fairly worn tourists trails with other westerners and people who can speak English. Roll on a real challenge and a 'proper' day of travelling

Monteverde

all_powered_up — Sat, 1 Mar 2008 23:56:00 GMT

It's a not as quick as it should be jeep-boat-jeep journey to Monteverde as we have to pick a man up on a horse? You have to say jeepboatjeep as quickly as you can like the locals so they understand you - my Spanish is improving no end.

Arriving to late for the cloud forest (the main reason I came here), i explore the centre and 5 minutes later go for dinner - yum, rice and beans again. I opt for a night tour, 2 hours of walking around in the dark trying to spot wild animals and creep crawlies. What are we humans like? it's a great tour, our best spots are a nocturnal raccoon type thing called a kinkajou and a something i can´t pronounce or spell but looked like a sort of skunk thing (I could be a guide you know). We spotted the kinkajou as something fell next to the guy in front of me - it was a banana skin and nearly landed on his head. :-) Fire flies were everywhere, the weather was perfect, the night sky was cloudless - i saw 3 satellites within a minute. It really did feel magical. With tarantula's, sleeping birds, stick insects, and many other bug things it was an interesting 2 hours.

Although the centre is tiny, on the roads from it are lots of places to sleep, places to eat, the odd coffee shop and art gallery and quite a few 'museums'. There's a wide selection of tours and places to visit and it's easy to see why Monteverde is popular with the tourists.

The next day i have a fascinating time in the butterfly garden. I spend at least 30 minutes trying to photo my favourite one - a giant swallowtail. I loved the creepy crawly room with the besotted, enthusiastic guide. Imagine tarantulas, lots of cockroaches, ants, scorpions and the like and a guide who wants you to play with them all. I was the wrong time for the bus and too cheap for a taxi and so I walked the several km's to the cloud forest - eating dust and fumes all the way. It was worth the effort though. I had a great few hours seeing hardly anybody and imagining myself as a ranger looking for signs of wildlife. I didn't do so bad, seeing howler monkeys, a squirrel thing (I'd make a good ranger too), lots and lots of birds, a couple of frogs and a couple of lizards. It's a beautiful forest - but no signs of any 2 toed sloths.

Even though I'm knackered I've got time for one last tour - the frog house. Somehow i got a guide to myself, a young guy who's full of facts but obviously a bit bored with the same old stuff. So we have a bit of a laugh, talk about daft stuff and feed a freshly caught cricket to the resident wild tarantula. It takes many attempts to throw the thing in the hole so the spider can catch it, and it makes difficult filming with the camera, but i persevered. A fascinating tour.

I really do like Costa Rica, it's just full of animals.

La Fortuna

all_powered_up — Thu, 28 Feb 2008 23:50:00 GMT

Arenal volcano is the most captive one in Costa Rica - it was a tough decision to come here and not head east to climb Costa Rica's highest one - Cerro Chirripo. After an easy 4.5 hour, $3.5 bus ride and I'm liking my choice. Arenal is one of those perfect cones, but alas this one isn't climbable, it's too dangerous even for idiots like me.

La Fortuna isn't a particularly attractive town considering it had to be rebuilt in 1968 after the last big eruption. The volcano has 'spewed' continuously since then. It has a nice central park, a quaint church and a jaw dropping volcanic backdrop at sunset.

Although there is a reserve just near town, i opted to go to the Lonely Planet described, world renowned, Caño Negro for a day on the river. It's a strange trip, it's not that enjoyable and yet it's an awesome day. A French guy with less braincells than the iguana he tried to shake out of a tree and a knowledgeable but no fun guide didn't help. Still, I'm NOT whinging anymore :-) Ospreys, hawks, various herons, anhingas, cormorants, various kingfishers, howler monkeys, spider monkeys, turtles, caiman's (type of crocodilian) and a lizard that can run on water. I knew it was going to be good as we drove in - on my right i could see 2 types of egrets and herons lined up for fishing and a river full of caiman's. On my left i could see a hawk, several vultures and a kingfisher - amazing.

That evening i went on a volcano tour - to climb a little way up to a viewing area and then gasp at the show. I'd unfortunately got the frat party tour, vodka and volcanoes is a dangerous mix - later when we go to the hot springs I'd be glad, for now i hang back trying to appreciate the forest in the night. It wasn't difficult to imagine walking through a lava tube of trees - they formed the perfect shape. Strange, loud noises came from my right and it took me a while to realise that it was volcanic eruptions crashing down the volcano. I've never heard anything like it - incredible. It was an ominous sort of rumbling that would became adrenaline inducing if you thought about it too much. It was great too when we were in the open and could watch the lava and rocks cascading down. I again went off by myself to let my eyes adjust. When will people realise where flash is no good? Damn I'm whinging again. Every now and again bright orange lava and rocks cascaded down like a waterfall - wow. After this we go to a hot spring - it´s night time, there are no lights and we are in a public pool. It´s a slightly bizarre but very enjoyable experience. I still have shudders over the drunk local guy who 'came onto me', even after his spa bath he reeked of booze and then drove home after. Why is it always me?

A great couple of days, maybe I'm not so tired of travelling after all.

San Jose

all_powered_up — Tue, 26 Feb 2008 22:59:00 GMT

A fair chunk of my time has been spent either moping or trying to locate Bob. As the airport never answers the phone i have little luck with the latter. I'm also a bit fed up from wearing the same clothes for over 2 days.

I can't say that i like San Jose, I can't say that i gave it a fair chance either. There's a couple of nice parks, some nice buildings - particularly churches and a couple of decent museums. But it's also a fairly sprawling, fairly dirty, prostitute filled, loud marimbas of a place that lacks the beautiful squares of other Spanish influenced cities. I'm not sorry to leave it after only 2 nights - in fact within an hour of having Bob returned to me...finally.

I'm aware that I'm not enjoying the travelling as much as when i first started - that's not to say I'm disliking it, more that I've become lethargic and less enthusiastic. I'm also craving mental stimulus and i think it's all a result of travelling for so long in one go. Even my couple of rest breaks in places hasn't really helped. I've decided to base myself in Guatemala for a while to learn Spanish. I just have to zip through a few countries to get there. This will be the really difficult bit: deciding which places to miss out. I have to believe this part of the trip is just a taster of these countries and that if i like them, as always - I'll be back.

Bob's Gone AWOL!

all_powered_up — Mon, 25 Feb 2008 23:04:00 GMT

Fed up of being treated like a piece of baggage, Bob my trusty backpack has decided to leave me in Phoenix on route to Charlotte, north Carolina. Bob I`m sorry i crammed you to bursting, dragged you through the dirt and then looked at those sexy, young models because you looked old and worn - please come back!

Within 2 minutes of arriving at Honolulu airport to fly to Mexico via Phoenix i discover my flight has been delayed 3 hours and my connection would be screwed. It's ironic that i could have chosen a later (by 20 minute) flight, but didn't due to the shorter transfer time and this one was doing OK. I got a boarding card for a later flight from Phoenix and only discovered when I'd arrived that it would send me to Charlotte. Could this be the name of Cancun's airport i wondered, i didn't think so, so i checked. Thank goodness i did, without telling me, they were expecting me to fly to Charlotte, stay overnight and then catch a flight (with no ticket) to Cancun. Thank you US Airways. My luck changed with the help desk lady, i wrangled a free flight to wherever was the next place they were flying to in Central America, which turned out to be Costa Rica, along with 2 drinks vouchers. As my 2 bottles of wine put me into a much needed sleep, little would i know Bob wasn't with me and that i was to get a nice wake-up call to the joys of travelling.

At around 11pm, the outside of San Jose's arrivals is a bustling free for all with taxis and touts. I need that wake-up, I'm dead on my feet as it's been nearly 40 hours since i slept properly, i speak very little Spanish, I don't have a place to stay in town and I'm not sure where town is. In typical style I'd read just enough to get by when arriving in Mexico. It's funny, but i wasn't worried at all, just angry and upset, and then angry some more that I'd let this bother me - after all it's really not a big deal, just annoying. After about 30 minutes of trying to recall all i knew about Costa Rica, getting distracted by people watching (there were lots of weirdos around), i finally got back to reality and organised somewhere to stay and a lift there. It would be another day before i could snap myself out of feeling sorry for myself - come back Bob, i miss you...

Honolulu City Lights

all_powered_up — Mon, 25 Feb 2008 22:18:00 GMT

How do you spend your last few days in a place that has become like a second home? You are aware that soon you´ll be in dorms again, sharing your personal space with strangers, that you´ll become a master toilet inspector and a connoisseur of bad smells. So you want to make the most of ´your´ apartment and your friends company, but you like to balance it with the best of the remaining sights that Hawaii has to offer.

You have a think, and then realise you can´t see all of the sights, that you have to be content with what you can see and afford. So you buy some oil paints, refuse the use of your friends car and enjoy your remaining solitary bliss on his balcony. As soon as your friend gets home you have to make up for it - so you do the tourist must do´s: the yard house (the worlds largest selection of draught beer), the cheesecake factory (raspberry chocolate truffle, yum yum), eggs n things (eggs n things - a Japanese mecca and a bizarre sight to behold). You walk around the people watching delight/freak show of Waikiki at night, you play table-tennis until you drop, trying to beat your competitive friend (I never did win), you climb diamond hill for sunrise, you check-out a waterfall and you snorkel in the magnificent Hanauma bay.

Diamond hill is a crater/ex military position and offers great views over Waikiki. Except for 2.1 bus loads of Japanese tourists (strangely without their warm safe buses) and a runner with a cow bell it´s a serene experience. Hanauma bay is a former royalty only, half-filled in volcanic crater that´s now a national park. Darren and i took our snorkeling gear and headed out for witches brew, a notorious spot that offers great visibility and the chance of strong currents to take you on a trip to open seas. We saw several eels and green turtles and 100´s of the usual reef fish - a pretty amazing selection and quantity for a snorkeling just off the coast.

So my time is up, my heart felt thanks to Kalei and Darren for a great time - i hope i can repay the honour one day. For now i have to chase Bob down. It seems my backpack is either in Phoenix or Charlotte, i´m now in Costa Rica and i should have been in Mexico....I love travelling :-)

Dear Mum

all_powered_up — Sat, 23 Feb 2008 22:16:00 GMT

Well, I've been travelling over 18 months now and i thought I'd better let you know how I'm doing and show you a couple of pictures to ease your mind.

I've spent the last month sleeping on an air mattress in the apartment of a male nurse. I don't think he's gay as he didn't come with me when i went to hang out in the gay bars. I'm trying new things like you suggested; so far I've tried a family sized apple pie, a box of twinkie bars, Ben and Jerry's ice-cream, take away from the Cheesecake factory and every beer i can get hold of. I had a slight cold and a few aches and pains last week - but don't worry i bought several packets of flu tablets and a container of a thousand ibuprofen. Americans don't use the metric system so I'm just taking 10 times all the doses. I now feel strangely fine. I'm making sure i get my exercise - i walk to Starbucks and MacDonald's at least twice a day. I'm also trying my best to fit in with the Hawaiians, so i got a tattoo.

see - nothing to worry about

love Son x

O'ahu continued

all_powered_up — Fri, 22 Feb 2008 22:14:00 GMT

My time in Hawaii is coming to an end - I've already extended my onward flights twice. I really didn't want to leave, and Darren and his girlfriend Kalei have been extremely generous and obliging hosts, considering my disruption to their lives.

Darren is a Canadian (a Mr nice guy), Kalei is a kama'aina (a local girl) and I'm a haole (a Caucasian outsider). Only the tone or what comes before this term will let you know if it's a bad thing :-) I'm an obvious haole, and my English reserve is probably amusing to the locals. When Kalei met me at the airport (as Darren was working) she hugged me, gave me a kiss on the cheek and placed a lei around my neck. An slightly overwhelmingly but lovely greeting. It wasn't any less nice because it was Kalei's second time welcoming a Shane that morning. My flight had been delayed, she had seen a backpacker she thought was me and asked if he was Shane - he was. So she greeted him Hawaiian style and then discovered he was the wrong Shane...

Kalei: "erm, can i have my lei back please"

Very funny, but extremely disturbing that there was another me out there at the airport.

It's been a great and privileged stay, being able to do things a lot of tourists couldn't, and living a life like a resident (albeit one without a job); I've been to a birthday party, a gay bar (yes i know, and don't ask), and a charity concert for Hawaiian language schools. This was a real opportunity to see a lot of Hawaiians together, how they interact in big family/friend/neighbour groups, how they look after each others children, their love of music, food and social interaction. It was a music and people watching treat for me as well as an introduction to the Hawaiian language and its 12 letters. My favourite word is keiki, as my parents often have coffee and the similar sounding cakey time - they'd get more than they bargained for in this case, as it means coffee and children time.

With Darren's help I've seen lots of O'ahu - having travelled all over the island now, amongst many things visiting a couple of heiau's (temples), the royal birthing stones (stones which the royal family gave birth on - ouch), I've hiked up 2000 feet for views over the coast, sat and ate cooked shrimp by the roadside, a Chinese meal from the beach and I've tried body boarding at the infamous huge waved Waimea north shore. I have a lovely video of me catching a wave wrong, being lifted into the air, pummeled face first into the sand and then being bent over backwards in an extremely painful impersonation of a contorting ostrich. It really hurt, and needless to say has ended my body boarding and surfing career. I've also seen the picturesque valley of temples and spent time in the punchbowl - a crater shaped memorial/graveyard to the 'fallen'. The views from the rim gave me joy and the contents filled my with a profound feeling of loss.

I've driven frustrated around the crowded roads of Honolulu, walked the touristy and busy beaches of Waikiki and lounged on Darren's balcony attempting to paint Hawaii. I've not been very successful so far. All in all I've had a great time.

I really like my time here; i really don't want to leave - i need to become a backpacker again and leave my friends in peace.

Maui

all_powered_up — Tue, 12 Feb 2008 20:21:00 GMT

Maui is a small island with a big volcano. Haleakala may only be 10,023 feet (3055m) high, but it would be a lot taller than Mt Everest if measured from the ocean floor. The road up also allows the biggest change in elevation in the shortest distance in the world - 10,000 feet in 38 miles...allegedly.

I had even less time on this island - Maui is a very popular island and it's also a very expensive one. If i hadn't have had such a bad night before, i should have slept in the car again. Without a lot of luck, or some pre-booking, this is not a backpacker place at this time of year. What it is though is an amazing but busy island - with moon like Haleakala crater, quaint towns with a bit of history, gorgeous beaches, clear blue seas with great diving, lush green forests, and amazing scenic drives.

Again I'm here for volcanoes and diving. Molokini crater is a largely submerged, volcanic, crescent shaped crater. It was a pre-dawn start, but i didn't mind - sunrise occurred as we are pulling out of the bay, a bay crammed full of humped back whales! They were everywhere we looked, they even took us by surprise a couple of times by swimming just under the boat. This was going to be an interesting dive.

Interesting it was - and warm too. I got to wear 2 wetsuits, the sea was extremely calm, the water was clear with visibility around 80 feet and the whales were singing, and singing, and singing. 2 long dives, a couple of turtles, a small shark, an octopus, a lot of eels and I was pretty happy - wow, can those whales sing. With the long dives and the amount of time we spent watching the whales a lot of the day had gone. I'd just enough daylight to explore some of the west coast and the town of Lahaina. This is where it's 'all at'; bars, cafes, restaurants, old buildings, museums, art galleries, tourists, cars, traffic accidents...

I got sucked into every gallery to drool over some of the paintings. I like to buy originals from countries i visit, but at $54,000 for the one i love - i had to pass this time. I really like this town, even with the tourists - what a shame I'm not a millionaire.

I've just got time the next day to make the winding drive up to Haleakala crater. I rushed around trails, read signs, took pictures, felt faint - I'm usually good with altitude. I guess 90 minutes is not quite long enough to acclimatise. The views are amazing, and I'm particularly lucky that I had a clear view of the crater - all 7.5 by 2.5 miles of it.

I really like Maui, there's a lot of traffic, but also a lot of really nice places. With more time and more money i would love to come back.

Big Island

all_powered_up — Sun, 10 Feb 2008 20:19:00 GMT

It's been dark an hour, I'm clambering over volcanic rocks in the middle of seemingly nowhere. A little LED torch with the power of a baby glow worm is lighting my way, the noise of the ocean is to my right, the glow of flowing lava is up ahead - i don't think I'm supposed to be here, i don't think this is safe or wise...
Volcanoes National Park contains one of the worlds most active volcanoes, apparently there are more than 1200 measurable earthquakes here every week, today there are sulphur dioxide warnings galore, areas closed off, accessible steam vents, lava tubes you can walk though, an amazing 'crater' you can drive around and a long, winding road down 'Chain of Craters' to the coast. The road is now closed at the bottom as it's covered in lava. It's also a little dangerous as a big 'shelf' of land collapsed into the ocean a few years back, killing one and seriously injuring many others. I've decide to drive down the road at night - to see the glow of lava. The signs say the flow is inaccessible, but for whatever reasons, i decide (upon reaching the end of the road) that I'll hike to the lava.
The rock is extremely sharp and full of cracks and crevices. It crunches and occasionally moves underfoot as i walk on it. It's a tough walk in the dark and my reasonably new shoes are soon not so reasonable - at least they aren't talking to me like my last pair. It's not long before I'm covered in sweat, i can't see any signs of civilisation, the glow of the lava has disappeared, and my imagination is working overtime. I'm expecting the land to give way, to fall down a crevice, to be knocked over by an earthquake or be attacked my a werewolf. I really am stupid to be here. My little light keeps going out too, it has a power saving mode i now realise, but the first time it happens i don't remember this, instead I decide to scare myself silly. I swear it gets dimmer every time i switch it back on too. It's 40 minutes before i decide enough is enough - the glow has reappeared and it's no closer. I just have to navigate my way back to the road - a thin sliver of smooth land in a jagged landscape, there are no lights, no trails and a only a slip of a moon.
I stumble and slide my way back along what i hope is the right way, it all looks the same until i reach some plants. I never went past them on the way. 40 minutes later and i arrive on the road only a few meters from where i left it. My relief was audible. Two aliens greet me by the side of the road, a shooting star passes overhead, i get a grip of myself and walk past the two dustbins up the road towards my car. I'll be spending the night in it to save some money - it's no surprise that i don't get any sleep that night. I'm also pretty sure there's an earthquake big enough to shake the car in the middle of the night...knowing me, there probably wasn't one.
Big island is just the nickname for the island of Hawaii - it's one the youngest, it's also the biggest and it's home to night diving with Manta Rays. Booking this is virtually the first thing i do when i arrive after a short, bumpy and picturesquely cool flight. I've timed it right for a 'black water dive' - over a mile off shore, to be tied on lines in a current, in very deep water where upwards streams bring critters from the deep to the surface. It sounds eerie and awesome. It takes me a while to get accommodation - no where is cheap, and lots of places are full. A quick check-out of Kona, a not bad but fairly touristy built up town and then I'm ready for some diving. But then it rain, and rains, and rains and just to cancel the dives, it flashes a bit of lightning too. The whole day is a washout - no diving, no real sightseeing.
I really want to do the manta night dive, so I'm up early arranging whatever dive i can. It's annoying as it means i have to be back in Kona for the early afternoon. I head-up the coast, it's a windswept, fairly dry looking volcanic landscape, with a snow capped volcano on my right and schools of humped back whales travelling up the coast with me on my left. Amazing. It's a beautiful drive with some stunning coastal scenery and some Hawaiian history.
I get back just in time for the dives. Spinner dolphins say goodbye to us as we leave the bay, we have one cold (I'm a wimp) dive seeing lots of eels and an octopus before waiting for the sun to set for our night dive. There's a nice sunset, but no green flash, and a bizarre set-up next to us with lots of snorkelers holding onto rings in the water. Big lights have been placed on the ocean bed and we are all holding big torches. The more krill and stuff we attract the more rays we attract is the theory. 50 minutes later, lots of crabs, a couple of lobsters, no rays and a mild case of hypothermia and I'm glad to be leaving. I'm not surprised there were no Mantas with the circus show we all took part in. I'm a little disappointed, but hey the sky is showing a billion stars, the spray from the boat is lit up with fairies (bio-luminescence) and I'm in Hawaii - life is pretty good.
My last day is spent crazily trying to see as much as the island as possible; cool Volcano town, mouldy Hilo, and of course Volcanoes national park - but that place is rubbish ;-)

Aloha Hawai'i - the island of O'ahu

all_powered_up — Thu, 7 Feb 2008 20:08:00 GMT

Da-da da-da daaaa-da, da-da da-da daaaa

Hawaii five-o? - no?

I never originally thought I'd reach here on this trip, i wasn't even sure I'd make it here after catching my flight from New Zealand to Sydney (bizarrely it was cheaper to go this route). I'd previously been told (even in writing) that my visa for Australia had expired, but it wouldn't be a problem as i would be in transit. Of course upon check-in they decide i can't go in transit...

Somehow I'm here, it's been on my list a while and i just happen to have a friend who's living in Honolulu.

Darren has a 10th floor apartment near Waikiki beach. He's made it abundantly clear that i should make myself at home and have; the use of his car, his computer, his apartment and his buildings gym. Not to mention he also cooks meals for me - i feel completely spoilt and as unlike a backpacker as can be. This is strange, but great!

So home is a built up area, within easy access to great beaches, a thousand shops and a million tourists. So what's the first thing i do upon arriving in America for the first time? I have a Subway sandwich and a Starbucks of course. I've turned into my worst nightmare. I'll be going to MacDonald's soon, with the excuse of "well I'm in America".

A week has already gone, but i don't know where it went. I've seen many a great beach, I've been in awe at the dramatic landscapes - remember these islands are volcanic, I've watched the feats of the big wave surfers (some of the waves can reach 30 feet), I've counted 15 Starbucks so far (and visited a fair few), I've lost every game of ping-pong I've played against Darren, I've got back into a sort of fitness mode, I've seen Pearl Harbour and climbed inside a submarine, I've sat on Waikiki beach and felt fat and ugly as many a body beautiful passes me by and I've felt slim and healthy in the supermarket as i marvel at how many a packets of potato chips can fit inside a trolley. This place really is a land of extremes, a cultural and geographical mix. I've discovered where all the bus loads of Japanese tourists go (there's also an interesting history with the Japanese due to World War II). I've also found out that Hawaii used to have a royal family and that Hawaiians favourite holiday destination is Las Vegas! Viva Las Hula? I'm also not surprised that there has been filming here for Jurassic Park, 50 First Dates, Magnum PI, Lost, Gilligan's Island... There is such a mixture of landscapes: cities, plantations, beaches, volcanoes and fields of rocks, 'historical' buildings, bays, little islands, snow capped peaks etc, etc.

I've still got a lot to see and do, but i like my first week here. I like the lush land, the diversity, the mixture of influences, the climate (even though it has rained every day so far), my base that i can call home and the company I have. Not a bad start to what I'm calling my Americas leg of the journey.

That's all for New Zealand

all_powered_up — Fri, 1 Feb 2008 01:29:00 GMT

Perhaps more than any other country, New Zealand was the one i wanted to visit. Yet for all its beauty and dramatic landscapes I've been ready to leave here for a couple of weeks.

NZ caters for the backpackers incredibly well - travel, bookings and tours are easy, varied and of good value when compared to Europe. Kiwi's are generally friendly and if they're not then the million plus tourists probably are. The combination of mountains, volcanoes, hot springs, lakes, golden beaches and green as far as the eye can see in such a small place is awe inspiring. The easy access to interesting wildlife and the 100's of tramps for appreciating the flora, fauna and landscape is the best of anywhere I've been. I love some of the little towns and even a city or two - nice combinations of rural and urban, a comfortable feel to them and some jaw dropping backdrops. The presence of Maori's and lots of travelers from different nationalities gives an interesting mix to the whole experience.

However, of course it's not all good, the grass maybe greener here but it's no paradise. From reading a newspaper nearly everyday, seeing the news and talking to the locals i have some idea of the realities although i realise i am still just a short term tourist. I've been gobsmacked at the amount of violence, murders and car accidents. It's probably a small amount compared to the UK, but it feels like a big, everyday problem. It could be that I'm de-sensitised to the news in England or maybe we don't report in the same way - it's simply not news in the UK anymore. There seems to be an element of the population that hasn't evolved yet. In one of the papers there was a story and a Spanish tourist described some of the men as a bit "ug ug". I know exactly what he means and yet it's a highly literate, well travelled, often forward thinking nation. Like virtually everywhere else there are racial tensions between; white kiwis, Maori and the increasing 'immigrants'. Ironic considering most groups are fairly recent additions to the islands. I don't find the country cheap or particularly good value, how can i after spending so long in Asia - I took part in virtually none of the 'adrenaline tours' simply for that reason. The food has also been poor to average for a guy on a budget. I think like England you need to know where the good places are. There are so many tourists and so it's hard to tell where the locals eat, and the establishments can get away with not serving great food. Although you can find it, there isn't the amount of history available compared to a lot of places - whether it's in the architecture, the museums or the galleries. Many times I've (laughably) seen something described as historic purely because it's over 100 years old! Sand flies are a bloody menace in certain places and can completely reduce the enjoyment of a place. The sun is another problem - the UV index is generally off the scale! NZ has one of the highest rates of skin cancer in the world.

That seems like a lot of negativity and yet I've said many a time that i love NZ. So why am i ready to leave? Simple, it's too much like England and I'm bored. I have to make full use of the time i have got to travel, and of late I've felt like I'm just going through the motions of travelling. The travel is too easy, too familiar and in a too culturally similar place for me to enjoy it fully.

Yet i do love this place!

The good points easily outweigh the bad; it's just the wrong place and not quite the right time for me. When it is right...I'll be back.

Wellington

all_powered_up — Wed, 30 Jan 2008 07:47:00 GMT

I said I'd give Wellington another chance - what were we thinking not to like it last time Tony?! This place is great!

I'd needed to use a flight credit somewhere, and I've been rapidly running out of time to use it. To get to New Zealand i had to book an onward flight - i found this out at the check-in desk waiting to fly here. So i buy the cheapest flight possible to a place that doesn't need an onward flight, cancel my flight when i reach here, pay 50 bucks for that privilege and then receive a credit flight - not money back, so i can book a more expensive flight by phone as online isn't available with a credit flight. Hmmm, I'm sensing a swizz. I'd tried to fly to Tonga or Fiji but my credit just didn't go that far - so Wellington it was, and i was to meet another two travellers I'd met before on my flight. It REALLY is a small world.

Wellington actually feels like a city, it's a similar size to Christchurch but in a much smaller space. At the weekend it rocks. It has lots of cafes, restaurants, pubs, clubs, theatres, cinemas, museums and galleries, and for once there is one worth mentioning. In the major towns i usually try and visit a gallery or a museum, and I'm glad i went to the Te Papa museum. It's a sort of cross between London's Natural History Museum, The Science Museum, The Victoria and Albert and The National Gallery, all wrapped up in a beautiful building. It has something for everyone.

There are hills overlooking the city centre with great views - Victory Hill and the Botanic Garden in particular. The quay isn't bad but could be much nicer and there's a large industrial blot on the landscape. It's a windy and hilly city, but it isn't unattractive overall.

I end up overdosing at the cinema, mainly because i can't walk very much during my last 2 days. A food shelf in my hostel collapsed on my toe, and what made it worse was that someone had stolen some of my food! Grrrr.

Paekakariki and Paraparaumu

all_powered_up — Sun, 27 Jan 2008 07:51:00 GMT

They are quite a mouth full for such little places. Seaside villages, just up the coast from Wellington. I'd hoped to go to Kapita island, a 'nature reserve' full of some nice birds - I'm sad i know. It was not to be though, if it wasn't busy i could have got a last minute place on a boat, but i couldn't get in contact with the boat driver to check.

So it's another day and a half of not doing too much; walking, reading, listening to music and doing crosswords. I'm living an exciting life...

Kaikoura

all_powered_up — Wed, 23 Jan 2008 07:46:00 GMT

Watch the whales, swim with the dolphins, picnic with the seals or catch the tail end of a cyclone and spend a day dodging showers and cowering from the wind. It was REALLY windy. The strange thing is - I'm not that upset. But more of that another time! So I have a quiet day-and-a-half in Kaikoura. When the rain clouds clear, and the sun shines i can see that it's a nice little place. It's surrounded by mountains, it's sea based and contains a couple of travellers I've met before - i keep saying it's a small world. I'm feeling strangely good so i even go shopping...i must be mad. I can't afford anything, I've no room to put the anything into, i can't physically carry the weight of the anything and I'm supposed to be living a non-materialistic simple life. I'm not sure where i got that idea from, my bank manager maybe.

Kaikoura's town is not quite my cup-of-tea, but it has some really cool rock formations, beautifully coloured waters, is nicely surrounded by mountains and has given me yet another reason to come back to New Zealand. I want the chance of seeing a blue whale - they occasionally visit here...allegedly.

The Otago Peninsula and The Catlins

all_powered_up — Sat, 19 Jan 2008 06:45:00 GMT

I know my sense of direction isn't that good, so I'm not surprised i couldn't find the steepest street or my way to the Otago peninsula. I remember I'm in the southern hemisphere, rotate my head around and it all eventually works out... the peninsula sure is beautiful.

Little sandy bays, Harrier Hawks and yellow heads galore, a royal albatross centre, a yellow eyes penguin sanctuary, beaches full of seals, gorgeous greenery - I REALLY like this place. Visiting the albatross centre is a scary experience because there are so many birds flying around - I unfortunately have a history of being target practice. They really are awesome birds - the largest wingspan in the world (a true record breaker for once), they can fly a 1000km in a day, they are voracious plastic eaters (judging by the photo) and they spend most of their time on the wing. I was once told they can't land unless on a hill or cliff as they'd never be able to take off again - i don't think that's true. To see these birds has been on my list for quite a while - so I'm excited.

I have a magical day: car, music, wildlife and scenery.

The next day i explore the coast south of Dunedin; an area known as the Catlins. It would have made more sense to have done it from Invercargill, but the cost of car hire was too much, and besides i like Dunedin. It's along day of driving, exploring little bays and blowholes, being unimpressed by waterfalls (i really have been spoilt), stopping at quaint towns full of murderers (see the local press and you'd know what i mean), Hookers sea lions, yellow eyes penguins, petrified forests, sandy beaches and rainforest that meets the sea. Did i mention yellow eyed penguins? wow, i was so lucky. It was the early afternoon, I'd stopped at a bay to see the petrified forest not even knowing there was a chance of seeing penguins - especially at that time of day, and there it was. It was much bigger than i expected, and there were probably a dozen of us spectators. This is a very rare bird, and without a doubt even our considerate viewing affected it. DOC (Department of Conservation) is pretty good in NZ, but i think they need to have a rethink about this one. The penguin numbers are on the decline and we tourists are definitely a factor.

Another great day, albeit with too much driving ut a yellow eyed penguin!

Dunedin

all_powered_up — Sat, 19 Jan 2008 06:42:00 GMT

A record breaking town...allegedly. I've heard so many claims to fame that i take them all now with a pinch of salt. My best claim is joint first place, as overall 'athlete' on a sports day when i was 7. For this impressive achievement i won a gold leafed diary. I never did tell them that they had scored me wrong (added another kids score to mine - he was called Shane too) - and even though i had no idea what i do with a diary, i wasn't giving it back. A diary - I'm 7 for Christ's sake!

Still Dunedin is a pleasant place, hilly as hell and full of churches for its redemption. My days here are filled with hiring a car, exploring the places of free parking, catching up at the cinema and meeting the local nutty builders in my dorm room. Why do i always seem to meet them? I've found it a little difficult to get back into the backpacking mentality. Too many home comforts on Stewart Island. I'm back to smelly bedrooms, crowded kitchens, strange people, ear plugs and dirty showers - hmmm nice.

I'd like to have gone to Cadbury world or the Speights brewery (the important sights of New Zealand), but i don't have time. Last time i was here i managed to see the towns art gallery, an amazing building that has an amazing Monet painting. I couldn't take my eyes off it (i miss Europe). A car is necessary, Dunedin is near the Catlins and the Otago peninsula - both have to be explored by your own transport to be appreciated. The worlds steepest street and the botanical gardens are a fair walk away, and Dunedin is incredibly spread out.

But, Dunedin is a worthy stopover, i just might get myself a single room next time.

Goodbye Stewart

all_powered_up — Thu, 17 Jan 2008 06:36:00 GMT

It's strange to be back on the road again. Stewart island has been my 'home' for nearly 4 weeks and it's been a year since I've stopped in one place for that long. Adjustment and fitting in become middle names when travelling for so long though.

My disappointment over the North West Track has tempered - I've had a nice, quiet, restful time since. I've managed to eat an inordinate amount of chocolate and biscuits, had a great time saying goodbye to my fellow trampers and I've become a gardener. It took me a lot of thinking when Coral suggested i stay with her and earn my keep by doing jobs. My head said i should move on and see more of New Zealand, while my heart said "I don't want to". The decision was made easier by the fact that i love it on Stewart island, and Coral is a really nice (also smart and occasional dizzy) lady with a house in a great location overlooking the main bay. I vowed i wouldn't do any more DIY - i never said anything about gardening.

So my days have been filled living an almost normal life: working in the garden, cooking, cleaning, shopping, using the computer, watching TV and playing scrabble - it's all been very strange and comforting for me. I've actually managed to win the odd game, I've pleased Coral by removing what felt like 10 tonnes of weeds and I've almost felt part of a community...almost. Occasionally I'd go to the shop and put things on Corals account - I got a strange look when i bought a case of beer (to replace the one we drank - well mainly me). It's not hard to become familiar to a community of only 300 odd people.

I also took a trip to Ulva island - an amazing little island sanctuary that has no cats, dogs, rats, possums etc. The bird life is incredible, which of course delighted my bad bird hobby (i hardly ever remember the bird names).

Sadly time eventually came to move on; my feet are almost healed and I've got a couple of more stops yet in NZ. So i get an early standby flight to Invercargill and get on a bus to Dunedin. It's a sad time - i hope I'm back... i hope I'll see Coral again, it's been lovely staying with her.

The North West Track

all_powered_up — Tue, 8 Jan 2008 09:46:00 GMT

Quote: This track is suitable for fit, well equipped and experienced trampers. Mud is widespread and often deep and thick on the track, regardless of the season. Track times are an indication only and extra time should be allowed in adverse conditions. Approximately 9-11 days should be allowed to tramp the full circuit, which is 125km in total.

No hot water, no electricity, fires you supply the wood for, long drops for toilets (oh how I've missed the smell of ammonia and the sheer hell of trying to go as flies are biting you), basic huts and fresh rain water as your supply. I have to give a plan of intent to the DOC office and a date by which I'll be back or they'll send a rescue squad out. This is no easy tramp and it's one that's tough if you get into trouble...

I've been advised to wear boots and gaiters as the mud is bad - but i don't have any, so i wear old trainers with holes in and arrogantly think I'll be fine. Bob the backpack weighs an incredible 22kg - but it's mostly food. I plan on 10 days with 2 side trips, by doing a couple of 2 day walks in one...

Day 1 Oban to Port William Hut to Bungaree Hut, 18km, 7-8hr.

The 'track' to Port William is easy as it's mainly on the road and only takes me 3 hours. Ouch, Bob is heavy, and becomes even more so as i come across my first real taste of mud on the way to Bungaree. The 3 hours guide time takes me 3 hours - I'm knackered, I've got a headache from the tension in my shoulders and my feet are hurting from stepping on tree roots - i can feel everything i step on. These aren't suitable, and this isn't a good start.

The hut's great but swarming with sand flies. I passed a guy called Ian on the way, a kiwi with a sabbatical. I think I'll be seeing more of him. I meet a couple who are staying in the hut to monitor the yellow eyed penguin chicks nearby - last year none survived :( I also meet a girl who's only brought chocolate bars and has done half the walk with no shoes...

Day 2 Bungaree Hut to Christmas Village Hut, 11.5km, 6hr.

I have a glorious amount of sleep while others set-off early - I'm in no hurry. Eventually i set-off and discover mud, glorious mud, lots of fallen trees, streams that need crossing, a million tree roots and lots more mud. This is tough going - continually trying to dodge mud or branches, hefting Bob, slipping, climbing and wading.

It takes me just over 5 hours to reach the hut. The last stretch is gruelling, I'm beginning to think I've bitten off more than i can chew; I've got no energy, my feet hurt along with every muscle in my body and I've eaten today's and tomorrows snacks. Later I'm joined by Ian, it's taken him over 9 hours and he's got a bad stomach so he can't eat - i guess i should be pleased.

Day 3 Side Trip to Mt Anglem, 11km, 6hr.

Mount Anglem is Stewart Islands highest peak at 980m, I'd planned to climb it, but i hadn't planned on not being able to put any weight on my right foot when i wake-up. Ian starts a fire, the forecast is rain and so i decide to have a rest day already. I dry my shoes off by putting them on the casing of the fire - stupid!, stupid! I only meant to put them on while it was warming up. I forget about them until there's a strange smell...my shoes melting. Now i have a foot that really hurts and shoes that are falling apart.

I keep the fire going to welcome the few trampers who brave the rain and storm, while eating, reading and popping anti-inflammatory's. So much for Mt Anglem.

Day 4 Christmas Village Hut to Yankee River Hut, 12km, 6hr.

The track is described as generally dry underfoot. In reality it turns out to be worse than the other day - i slip, splodge and scrape my way to Yankee. There's surprisingly few birds, few insects and often just mud as far as the eye can see. My foot kills until the tablets kick in and my shoes let in the thick, black mud with ease. I have over 5 hours of constantly wet, muddy feet, only to take a break with the odd fuel and pill stop. This is no way to do this trail. What the hell am i doing here? - i should have turned back when the shoes started flapping to me.

I pass Ian on the way - he's layed out full stretch by the side of the track, knackered and empty of food, but strangely not hungry. He's definitely ill. The others who came this way went up the mountain - they're in for a long day. I arrive at the hut first, wash in the river with perfumed soap and try and cheer myself up - it's New Years Eve after all. The downside to washing is that you can suddenly smell everyone else, i subtly tell Ian he stinks and so he washes himself with his homemade anti-sand fly remedy; Dettol and baby oil. Not only does he still reek but our room now stinks like a dirty bathroom. My shoes are really bad - i use a spare shoelace i have and 2 from Sarah, a fellow walker to try and hold them together.

Quite a few others arrive through the evening, it's a good job it doesn't get dark until after 10pm. New Years Eve turns out to be not so bad.

Another tramper has injured her knees and a boat is coming to pick her up tomorrow...perhaps i should be on it.

Day 5 Yankee hut to Long Harry Hut to East Ruggedy Hut, 18km, 10-11hr.

Stuff the boat - I'm not giving in yet. Breakfast, pills, shoelaces. I've deemed this an ideal day to walk two in one, it's going to be a long day but apart from the damaged feet, the aching shoulders, the numerous scratches and bites, i feel good! I make good time only taking 8.5 hours. It's really hard going at times - crawling on all fours up sand dunes, wading through rivers, and slogging through mud up to my knees. I nearly knocked myself out on a cut-off tree branch, walked into another sea lion (luckily i smelt him first) and managed a somersault down a ditch. I was busy daydreaming about going back to work, the flap on the front of my shoe caught on a rock and i started falling onto my face. Luckily (i guess) i was facing a ditch so i started falling down that, Bob suddenly tries to get over my head and somehow i end up in a bush 6 feet away on my back on top of Bob - impressive really. It's the last time I'll think about work.

There's just Sarah and I at the hut tonight - well us and a swarm of mosquitoes that keep me awake at night, along with a storm, female kiwi calls, a falling tree and some falling apples - i can't explain the last one, there are no apples to fall.

Day 6 East Ruggedy Hut to Big Hellfire Hut, 14km, 7hr.

I'm in pain - a lot of it. The tablets are taking longer to kick in and first thing in the morning my right foot is agony. Maybe i should have got that boat, i can't get one from here and i now need to keep walking until mason Bay before i can get one. I'm not sure my shoes will even hold out that long. I spend the solitary hours daydreaming, looking for wildlife and cursing the mud - same as usual. I love these times and the supposed isolation, but i worry about my sanity...i talk to myself a lot.

I catch up with Sarah after a few hours, she's busy swearing at the mud and doesn't even here me approach (it's raining and I'm bizarrely walking with an umbrella through the bush - very practical). We walk to the hut together - I need the moral support and to try and curb my madness, i feel tired, the mud is never bloody ending and I'm annoyed at having to get a boat back. We have a nice chat, it's always good to meet someone with a lot of similar interests.

We're welcomed by a wood burning fire, an American, a Canadian and South African. This could be the start of a bad joke but instead it's a nice evening and....

A KIWI !!!

At last. Elisabeth spotted one on her way to the toilet - the long drops are often a long way off. Talk about fantastic, the bird didn't mind us at all, and i could have watched it for hours. It moves so strangely, it has huge claws and a really long beak - it's just plain weird.

GREAT !!!

Fortunately for me Travis the American had some tape by which i could attempt to repair my shoe. I think he's just saved me a whole lot of pain.

Day 7

But not enough pain. My foot is unbelievably worse, i decide to have another rest day, i can't even walk to the toilet, I'll have to catch that boat. At least there aren't many sand flies here.

First Leif a Swedish guy arrives, then Alison and Jeremy an English couple who I've met several times before and then Thomas a Taiwanese. You get used to these mixes with travelling, it makes playing cards in the evening interesting too.

When i can walk again i keep the fire going, collect wood, chop the wood, look for more kiwi's and read. This is bliss, most people would be bored i guess, but I'm quite happy.

Day 8 Big Hellfire Hut to Mason Bay, 15km, 7hr.

I'm going to catch a boat, my new taped up shoe has now given me several blisters and these are a welcome distraction to the rest of my pain. The tablets don't seem to work anymore, just time - as the day passes the foot strangely gets better.

The trail down to Mason Bay is awful. There are ropes to help you get up and down it. I just slip my way down, it's muddy, painful and dangerous, but I'm determined I'm not going to get a boat out. Stuff it, I'll live with the pain, hopefully my feet will recover fairly quickly, my shoes should now last and I'm not coming all this way and not completing it. My only compensation is that i see another kiwi - I'm too tired to stay watching it though.

I make good time to Mason Bay with less than 6 hours and I take a break before heading onto Freshwater Landing Hut. I'm told the track is flooded, that it's up to my chest and that i wont get through.

F*ck

I know I'll be in a lot of pain in the morning, but i feel i have no choice. I spend the evening kiwi spotting with some of the others - we spot another one, and are treated to the sounds of its feeding. Huge slurping noises that would outdo an Asian :-)

Day 9 Mason Bay to Freshwater Landing Hut, 15.5km, 3-4hr.

After a terrible night I'm up fairly early for me, i need to do two days in one again to catch up time . My feet are blistered, bruised and swollen. The tablets seem not to work, and I'm worried about continually taking them anyway (i hate taking tablets). It takes me an age to walk to Freshwater, every step is agony. As i arrive a boat pulls in and the driver shouts who else wants a ride...

I believe in fate, i got on that boat. I hate the fact that i didn't quite complete the trail. I spent 3 days convincing myself it was wise to take the boat and then my stubborn pride wouldn't let me and i was determined to go on. If i hadn't caught the boat i wouldn't have had a bed at North Arm Hut - it was more than full that night.

Bugger, bugger, bugger...

Bob feels incredibly light now; I've done a lot of reading, met a lot of people, ate a lot of food, done a lot of walking, seen 3 kiwi's, a sea lion and many birds. I'm as disappointed as hell...

The Rakiura Track

all_powered_up — Sun, 6 Jan 2008 06:07:00 GMT

Described as a 3 day moderate to difficult track, this was my chance to get out in the bush and see kiwi's - the brown flightless bird kind i should add.

The first walk went quick - the signs give generous times and i had the weather with me, it wasn't a crowded house though - just 4 of us were in the first hut. I tried to go Kiwi spotting the first night...picture me, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, moving furtively through the bush, heart pounding because it's so dark, I'm alone and I'm a wuss with an overactive imagination. The roar of the ocean is making it hard to hear things, a light drizzle is just starting and then suddenly there's a really loud noise and it's coming towards me...it's a heavy man and he's running at full pelt in my direction. Adrenaline kicks in, I become superman and then I realise it's hooves and its running FROM me...I decide to call it a night before the skies fully open and i wet myself.

I don't see a kiwi over the next two days, the walks are surprisingly easy, the wildlife is less than that around Oban and there's too much boardwalk - this is a GREAT walk? It a slightly weary me that walks through the rain back to Oban and my Christmas dinner invite. Dinner is at Jo and Andy' mums with some of there friends and 2 other B&B guests (Len and Jacqui) - i feel privileged to have been invited. It's strange though not to be with my own family, but even so, it's a good day.

Len is a great laugh and a top senior golfer in Wales. Somehow i get invited to play on the local 6 hole course. This has to be one of the strangest and most southern courses in the world - amazing views, amazing holes and amazing that i got around it by only losing 1 ball (i found about 8 to make up for the ones i lost). It's a long and great day - dodging showers, dodging my slices, and getting tips on how to play and where to look for my balls.

I also strangely and gratefully got an invite to say at Jo and Andy's mums. Coral is a nice lady who's mind is as sharp as her wit and her ability at scrabble - i always lose. With her permission I use her house as a base - I've decide to walk the 8 - 12 day North West track, a tough trek through mud...lots of it. This will be difficult, but I really want to spot kiwis. I'm hoping it's worth it...

Stewart Island

all_powered_up — Sun, 6 Jan 2008 06:05:00 GMT

I came to Stewart Island for some quiet time with nature, my books and to catch up on some sleep. So it didn't quite go to plan. New mates, Christmas dinner with some locals, golf lessons from experts, a lovely stay with an Octogenarian (I'm currently gardening to earn my keep), honoury membership of the scrabble club (because i always lose) and knackered feet from bad shoes and too much tramping.

I skipped down the east coast from Christchurch via Dunedin and Invercargil to take a ferry from Bluff to Oban on Stewart Island. Invercargil is of course home to the worlds most southern Starbucks (thank you Tony) and Dunedin is a nice town worth mentioning - but not now. The crossing was surprisingly good - i only decided to feel seasick when i tried to read (when will i ever learn). I had a reservation in Jo & Andy's B&B for a couple of days (my Christmas present to myself), then i was going to walk the Rakiura track and then have another night in the B&B and decide what to do next.

I liked the feel of Oban straight away; one pub, one shop, no banks and quaint houses and a church overlooking Halfmoon bay wrapped in a small community feel that's comfortable. I liked the B&B too - homely and full of books. I'd expected a quiet Christmas instead i found myself with fellow travellers, drinking bottles of beer while watching sunsets, enjoying the live music of Craig Smith and his Wonky Donkey song, and trying whiskey from the original Oban. As preparation for the track i hired a mountain bike to cycle the 27km of roads, discovering that 1st gear is not low enough. My calves ached like hell and i felt tired before I'd even started walking - this is one hilly place. I love the little bays, the birds - wow the birds! So loud, so close, and so many...now i know what a Weka and a Tui is, i even saw a Sea Lion very close up. I thought it was a rock and nearly walked into it! I just have to see an elusive kiwi - then I'll be happy. Hence my main reason for walking the Rakiura track - kiwi spotting.