Silk Route Project

Thankyou everyone

craigandsimon — Wed, 15 Nov 2006 22:18:00 GMT

Well what can we say, we did it. We made it overland from India to Europe. For the two of us it has been a truly life changing experience that would not have been possible without the support of World Nomads and their charity Footprints. So after 5 months on the road what were our major hightlight you ask, well there were many but here's some that really stood out.

Our first time representing Footprints and meeting the children of Siliguri, India is something that will stay with us for life. Just seeing the absoulute horror that these children endure everyday of their lives and they are still able to give you the most honest and beautiful smile you will ever see. It was truly life changing.

Similarly, the visits to the orphanages in Kyrgyzstan and the Ukraine were very confronting and emotional experiences. There is a positive side though and giving them much needed supplies was of course helpful. In a way there was a lot more to the visits than just buying them things and leaving. For us to witness the everyday reality of people whose life situation is so totally different to our own and then pass this experience on to others was powerful and humbling. It gives me hope for the future.

We are often asked if we were ever in danger and it's great to honestly say "No", it reaffirms our belief that with common sense (and perhaps a touch of luck) you can travel safely everywhere. There was however once instance whilst in the mountains of Pakistan that gave us a wake up call. Climbing back down from the base camp to Mount Rakaposhi we had to make our way along a path that would not have been more then 1 ft wide, made from shale and had a 100ft drop onto a glacier below which seemed waiting to swollow us up. It was quite literally the most terrifying experience of the trip and one of the few times we thought we had a good chance of dying. But after a very long 10 minutes of making our way along the edge we made it across, sat on the grass and stayed very still not wanting to think about what we had just done.

Without doubt though one of the most amazing drives of the trip was making our way along through the Pamir Mountains in Tajikistan and along the Wakhan corridor, this really encapsulated what this trip was all about. Getting off the beaten track and seeing a part of the world that is still fairly untouched by tourism. We expect that this area will be very popular in years to come and change alot. Let's just hope that this change takes place responsibly.

Turkmenistan will always have a special place in our hearts. How could you not be appalled yet in awe of a megalomaniac leader who dominates a country and builds giant statues of himself?

The list really does go on and on but I think it would take a very long time to go through everything, all in all the trip really was a trip of a lifetime, with many challenges (including trying to learn Russian). We hope from what you have read that maybe some of you will give this part of the world a bit of a look, it is truly rewarding. Thanks again everybody for all your support.

The photo above was taken on the on the last night of the trip. Despite the late night cold of Krakow, Poland we celebrated with cigars and wine. It was a fitting finish.

So that's it. Farewell to the dusty deserts and the incredible mountains. Farewell to the rusting Ladas and ancient busses. (Most importantly) Farewell to the endless diet of meat-on-a-stick and vodka. Farewell to the wonderful people. We are tired ... we're going home.

The Travelling Idiots

Craig and Simon

Smiles and Laughter - Visiting Orphanages in the Ukraine

craigandsimon — Wed, 1 Nov 2006 05:29:00 GMT

Compared to the places we have come from the Ukraine was a curious mixture of money and poverty. With a long history of wealth and power but a short history under the Russian Soviets it is trying to find it's feet and is even making murmurings of joining the European Union. Yet amongst the Mercedes, designer fashions and sushi restaurants are signs of most people's economic reality - teenagers begging in subways, old men collecting bottles for money, old women catching busses into the city to sell carrots on the sidewalk for 20c a kilo. For the majority of the country's population life was a struggle.

This was shown to us clearly in the two orphanges we visited in Chernivtsi, a small city in north-west Ukraine. Molentsi Orphanage is located an hour outside the city and accepts children that cannot get into the overcrowded government orphanages. It recieves no funding from the government, instead relying on donations from the local churches. The centre cares for 140 children aged from 6 months to 16 years. Only 26 of the children are in good health, the rest suffering from a variety of illnesses and disabilities. 40 of the children had serious neurological conditions, a number of children had Downs Syndrome and even some with juvenile cancers awaiting operations. There were also a significant number of children with severe birth defects, we were told that winds blew fallout from Chernobyl to the area and people are still being affected.

There was one great young guy who unfortunately been born without any arms. Despite this he was one of the happiest kids that I have ever met and so keen to be in photos. At the end of our visit I was shaking hands with all the children and got to him, without thinking I offered him my hand. When I realised this I froze, I have never been more embarrassed in my life. He laughed though. He was comfortable with how he was born and was moving on. This sentiment touched me deeply.

The orphanage goes through a prodigious quantity of medicines for their children which put an tremendous strain on their finances. They also badly needed a number of medical machines, in particular a sterilisation unit (they were still boiling their instruments to sterilise them) which at a cost of US$600 was way beyond their means. We were incredibly excited to have the opportunity to buy this machine for them on behalf of Footprints, the charity of World Nomads.

The head nurse cried when we presented her with the unit, she was so grateful. It will have a huge impact on the effectiveness of her
centre.

The next day we managed to visit the Chernivtsi Orphanage for Homeless Children. It is a small orphanage that cares for 13 children, aged 3-16 years, whose parents have died or are abusive. The centre recieves a small ammount of funding from the government which covers the children's food and the meagre staff wages but unfortunately there is no funding for anything else! The center director told us that this was the typical situation for orphanages in the Ukraine.

Winter was on it's way with snow and minus zero temperatures but many of the children had outgrown their shoes. Providing these children with new shoes was the priority so, with a staff member, we purchased 7 pairs of sturdy winter boots, 12 pairs of slippers (for wearing indoors) and a lot of socks. The boots were high quality and will last a long time, which is particularly important in this situation as the children hand-down their shoes to others as they outgrow them.

The children were so excited when we presented them with the shoes. It felt like Christmas, including the mandatory arguments over who had better shoes and tears that there weren't more presents.

Altogether we spent only AUS$1000 on these two centres - my mind boggles at how little is needed to ease people's suffering. It was comforting to know that we had helped these children but without a doubt the most satisfying thing for us was look in the children's eyes.

Gallery: Ukraine

craigandsimon — Tue, 31 Oct 2006 19:45:00 GMT

MMMMM Cheese

craigandsimon — Sun, 29 Oct 2006 04:32:00 GMT

Thats right folks if ya love cheese Georgia is the place to be. They love the stuff, its dripping off everything you order. The choicest dish is Khachapuri, basically its a round piece of flat bread stuffed with cheese. Its awesome, and with the risk of sounding very Australian some Vegimite would be the perfect addition to this fine dish.

Enough about food though, lets get down top the serious busines of sport. Simon and myself were lucky enough to get tickets to the European qualifier between Georgia and Italy. As soon as we found it was against those cheating Italians (no I still dont hold a grudge) we had to get tickets right then and there. For the bargain price of 15lari (about $7) we found ourselves that night up in the nose bleeds surrounded by the red and white army of Georgia. Now we only had one problem with the night and that was the serious lack of beer at the game, thats right NO BEER!!!! Thankfully we did have some prior warning and had polished of a couple of beers and a bottle of vodka in the restaurant before hand with some new found friends. Anyway I suppose you want to know the result, well the Italians won 4-1. Unfortunatly one of the Georgian players was sent off for what we thought was a very minor foul. The strange thing was that none of the supporters seemed to really care that the Italians won, I actually think that Simon and myself were the most dissapointed people there.

Ok enough about football, we did actually see some stuff while in the country. Tiblisi is a fantastic city set amongst mountains with a beautiful river running through it. The city is full of great little Orthodox churches and one of the great things to see is the Georgians furiously crossing themselves everythime the pass one. I mean it must get a bit annoying after a while, especially when your on a crowded bus and everyone starts at the same time. We got out of Tiblisi for a couple of days and made our way up to Kazbegi set high in the greater Caucases. Now this place was cold brrrrrrr, for the first time of this trip the thermals where brought up from the bottom of the bag. But what a beautiful place, there are some awesome hikes to do. A great little warm up is to a Tsminda Sameba Church on top of a Mt Kazbek(pictured).

We then made our way south to Varzia to view the monastary carved into the side of a mountain. What a great place you could literally spend an entire day crawling around in the tunnels. We were also lucky enough to witness a service, those Georgian priests have got a set of lungs on em. Our guest house was also a highlight, it had a massive a indoor pool heated from the underground reservoir (did smell a bit though). After asking around about how to get to Akhaltsihe we were actually offered a ride from one of the local constabulary. Normaly we wouldn't trust the police in any of these post soviet countries but this guy had Criminal Police written on the back of his jacket so at least he was honest about it. Our other travelling companions turned out to be the local judge and a lawyer, quite auspicious company for couple of vangabonds like us. We really must have had our helpless faces on that day because when we reached Akhaltsikhe they whisked us off to a local resteraunt for lots of delicious cheesy dishes, plus the judge called in a few favours and got us a room in the top hotel in town for next to nothing, and if that wasnt enough we then had one of the most delicious meals ever with all the staff. Georgian hospitality is amongst the best in the world and it was with a tear in the eye as we crosses the border into Turkey.

Turkmenbashi Unplugged

craigandsimon — Wed, 25 Oct 2006 20:01:00 GMT

NEWSFLASH!

It has come to our attention that Turkmenbashi, the despot-in-residence of Turkmenistan, is about to release an album. And why the hell not - he has his own country, builds anything he wants and makes the national newspaper publish his poetry. It's about time that he showed more of his talents.

Through our sources we have managed to get hold of the lyrics for a couple of the songs and we are very, very excited to share these with the world -

(Sung to the tune of ACDC's "TNT")

See me ride out of Communism,
In my brand new country.
Out for all I can get,
If you know what I mean.
Statues to the left of me,
Palaces to the right.
You ain't got no votes.
Ain't got no rights.
So don't start no fight.

Cos I'm Turk-men-Bashi, I'm a dynamite
Turk-men-bashi and I'll win the fight
Turk-men-bashi I'm a power load
Turk-men-bashi watch me explode!

(Sung to the tune of the Beatle's "Yellow Submarine")
In the town where I was born,
Lived a man called Turkmenbashi.
And he told us of his life,
Through a propaganda machine.

So he took over the land,
Now we won't have democracy,
And we live in isolation,
In a propaganda machine.

We all live in a propaganda machine,
Propaganda machine, propaganda machine
We all live in a propaganda machine,
Propaganda machine, propaganda machine.

Rumour has it that other songs on the album include Enter Turkman (a version of Metallica's "Enter Sandman"), You Can't Film This (a rewrite of MC Hammer's "You Can't Touch This", a touching celebration of the regulations banning tourists from photographing any local people) and a version of Shirley Bassey's classic "Goldfinger".

But it doesn't stop there! He is also discussing with Andrew Lloyd Weber about the possibility of musical in which he will star. The tentative title is "Turkmenbashi and his Mono-authoritarian Dream State". And last but not least, he will be releasing his own mobile phone ring tone, aptly titled "Crazy Turkmenbashi".

The great man has also been in the international news lately. He has generously granted a pardon to a number of convicted criminals, including eight men who were charged with attempting to assasinate him in 2002. How very generous of the great leader! However there are rumours that he actually organised the botched attempt so that he would have an excuse to lock up his political opponents...http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/em/fr/-/1/hi/world/asia-pacific/6058248.stm

My personal favourite though is his latest construction - a building shaped like a giant book that glitters in the dark! It is dedicated to the free press of Turkmenistan. That is a touch ironic when you consider that all media in Turkmenistan is state-controlled and any journalists who have voiced dissent have been imprisoned. http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/em/fr/-/1/hi/world/asia-pacific/6063700.stm

Yes, we admit that we have an unhealthy obsession with Turkmenbashi. But how could you not? This is a man who has constructed an incredible Olympic Stadium even though Turkmenistan has never sent a team to the Olympics. This is the man who officially renamed the month of April to that of his mother. I'm sure Freud would have some interesting comments about that.

Introducing Turkmenbashi

craigandsimon — Mon, 16 Oct 2006 04:02:00 GMT

Propped between Uzbekistan, Iran and the Caspian Sea is the incredible country of Turkmenistan. It is a land of incredible history and beauty, lying on the crossroads between Asia and Europe but not many people would have heard of this country before, we certainly hadn’t before this trip. However visiting this country was one of the most surreal experiences of this trip, purely because of one thing – Saparmyrat Niyazov, the outrageous leader of the country, aka Turkmenbashi.

When the Soviets pulled out of Turkmenistan in 1991 Niyazov was fortunate enough to be highly placed in the Communist beaurocracy and he certainly didn’t waste the opportunity. While other ex-Soviet satellites made token murmurings of democracy or took the more popular option of civil war, Niyazov took firm control of the country and united it by centering peoples attention on one thing – himself. Appointing himself with the unambiguous title of President for Life, he also changed his name to Turkmenbashi (meaning “leader of the Turkmen”). Carefully removing all opposition to his domination, he declared himself the nation’s saviour and organized for people to worship him.

That’s right, not only does he have his own country but he’s got himself an exquisite personality cult, a population of 5 million dedicated to HIM. Most city buildings are adorned with giant posters of his smiling face, statues of him are everywhere, his picture is on all of the bank notes. His has written a tome of a book, the Rukhnama, that describes his life and the history of the Turkmen people. All citizens must read it.

Turkmenistan is blessed with oil and natural gas reserves, enough to last 200 years apparently, and the wise President for Life is using oil money to build himself an empire. Ashgabat, the capital, is by a long way the most ostentatious city in Central Asia. He has built the largest waterfall in the world and put a restaurant on top. All of the ministerial buildings are brand new and have golden roofs. We saw at least twenty giant apartment blocks, that would rival anything in Manhattan, which have popped up in the last couple of years. The ironic thing is that they are all empty because no one can afford to live in them.

The best example of the big man’s building bravado can be seen in the centre of Ashgabat (in fact it’s impossible to miss). To celebrate his decision that Turkmenistan will be a Neutral country (hence avoid having to deal with anything outside its borders) he constructed a 60m high arch that Napoleon would have been proud off. Atop the arch what else could there be but a giant GOLD statue of the despot-in-residence, his arms open wide embracing his nation.

But wait, it gets better-

The statue revolves to follow the sun. I am not joking. From dawn to dusk it slowly turns to follow the sun’s arc through the sky.

I was very surprised to find local people were apparently happy with their leader. No one would say a bad word about him, which is impressive but I had to wonder what would happen to them if they did. Their leader has them firmly insulated from the outside world – there is no internet and to marry a foreigner you have to pay the state a fee of US$100,000! The thing that most Turkmen were proud of was the price of petrol in their country. While most other countries are experiencing spiraling fuel prices, petrol in Turkmenistan costs approximately one cent per litre. To fill up an average sized car costs less than US$1.

Visiting Turkmenistan as a tourist can be a bit of challenge. To get a tourist visa you must book your whole trip beforehand and be accompanied by a tour guide for your whole stay. There is no flexibility for travelers like us and it certainly didn’t fit our budget so with some smooth talking at the embassy in Uzbekistan we were forced to get a transit visa which lasted only 5 days. Once we were in the country things were painless. The local people were very welcoming and the police were on every street corner but they left us alone. Except on one particular occasion …

One evening we were wandering around Ashagabat’s gold-topped edifices having a good chuckle at their megalomaniac builder when we found an extremely large TV screen showing local music concert. It seemed interesting so we stopped for a bit to watch. Immediately a soldier appeared, blew his whistle (soldiers in this part of the world love whistles) and told us to go away! In what other country would there be a giant screen showing in a public place but people aren’t allowed to watch it? It is incidents like this that had us laughing throughout our visit to Turkmenistan (but if I had to live there I don’t think I would find it funny, though the cheap petrol would be good).

Now that Saddam has gone and Central Africa is pretending to be democratic I had thought the world was lacking in totalitarian madmen, what a relief it is that Turkmenbashi is around to make things interesting. I wonder if he and Kim Jung Il of North Korea get together and compare notes?

PS: The authors mean no offence to the wonderful people of Turkmenistan and their beautiful country. It’s just that your leader is ridiculous and a megalomaniac.

Gallery: Georgia

craigandsimon — Mon, 16 Oct 2006 03:44:00 GMT

Gallery: Turkmenistan

craigandsimon — Sun, 8 Oct 2006 01:20:00 GMT

Paging Mr Timur you have your country back

craigandsimon — Thu, 5 Oct 2006 18:54:00 GMT

Well we have just spent 2 weeks soaking up the culture of Uzbekistan, this is where its at for Central Asia which is obvious by the amount of tour buses pushing the poor Ladas off the road. We started of in Tashkent which is your basic C.A. captial city lots of resteraunts serving western food plus still looking very Russian, unfortunatly there is really no Uzbek culture here as it has all been imported since Uzbekistan got its independence and the President needed a new branding for his govenrment and he found it in Timur Lang a 14th century mongul who got all his inspiration from Gengis Khan (in fact he outstripped Ghengis big time). President Islam Karimov has decided that this is the guy for them and has built a ton of monuments in Tashkent but with none of the same quality as the buildings of Samarakand or Bukara.

But I digress after Tashkent we made our way down to Samarakand there we find the Registan built by Timurs family in the 15th century, and what a place it really is amazing to behold, although it is overly renovated and alot of the buildings look really really clean plus they are surrounded by lots of old Soviet buildings which really does take away from the magic of the place, plus inside all of the monuments are people selling every little bit of junk that they can' it's ubfortunate that you cannot stand alone for 5 minutes to admire these archetechtual feats without someone coming up to you and trying to sell you something imported from China.

After Samarakand we made our way back to Tashkent so we could pick up our visa for Turkmenistan and Azerbijan, which to our suprise were delivered with no questions asked , so we jumped back on the train and made our way to Bukara, this place was more like it it hasn't had the facelift that Samarakand has had, lots of great monuments to see especially the minaret which has been standing there for over 1000yrs even Mr Khan didnt knock it down because he was so overwhelmed by its sheer verticality, unfortunatly the Red Army had a bit of a go at it but its still there and its still awesome . Khiva was the next stop before we venutre into the wilds of Turkmenistan, again it was a realy great place to be, especially staying within the city walls.

Too sum up Uzbekistan was a bit of a dissapointment especially after such great places as Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, but I suppose it cant all be good, I will say the people of Uzbekistan are great and very welcoming especailly after being invited into 2 weddings within the first 5 days. So Mr Bashi here we come I hope your ready.

The Savage Bliss of Uzbek Massage

craigandsimon — Tue, 26 Sep 2006 02:24:00 GMT

It was with genuine excitement that I found out there were traditional bath houses in the ancient Uzbek city of Bukhara. Communal sauna and baths had been introduced to parts of Asia a couple of millennium ago by the hygiene obsessed Romans; they fell into decline when the Romans left but then came back into fashion when the prophet Mohammed started preaching cleanliness. For US$8 the bath house offered a session in the sauna and a massage – just the thing for an aching traveling body. I had never heard of Uzbek massage before but I was keen to give it a try. Some parts of me now wish that I had retained my ignorance.

In the centre of the old town, the bath house was a beautiful old stone building, designed to the traditional Roman design. The sign out front advertised ‘Ancient Bath House, Sauna and Extra Special Massage’. I hoped that the Extra Special Massage was the type that I regularly got offered in Thailand.

After a terse greeting by the officious boy on the front door I was told to get naked, wrap a small sheet around my waist and go wait in the sauna for my masseur. I ducked my head under the low doorway and let my eyes adjust to the light. In front of me was a small circular room with a number of even smaller chambers coming off. It was built entirely of stone and lighting came only from a small hole in the roof. The air was a humid fug of about 50 degrees and was pleasant till I had to breathe.

It was after twenty minutes of sweating like a sprinkler that I met my masseur, Mahmood. Now, some people might get excited by the prospect of being massaged by a hairy, middle-aged man with a paunch, wearing only a pair of skin-tight, yellow hot pants however I was not. With a grin that seemed a little bit keen, he poured a bucket of warm water over me and gestured for me to lie face down on the stone floor.

It is at this stage that I have to let everyone know that my profession, when I am not being a traveling hobo, is a chiropractor and I couldn’t help but critique. It was a wet massage – I was covered in a lather of soap, which is apparently a special herb infused blend but smelled remarkably like Dove. In big sweeping movements he started digging into my muscles and it was pure bliss, the last couple of months of bad roads and bad beds had made my body as tight as a drum.

It was when he began to walk on my back that I started getting wary. I’ve had this done before but usually by very small people. Mahmood was clearly fond of his food and, not being much under ninety kilos, I have to report that the therapeutic results of this practice was, in this instance, very very limited.

He then squatted with his knees on my pelvis and pulled my arms back over my head, much like what is done in Thai massage except dear Mahmood wasn’t blessed with much grace or subtlety of movement. It became apparent that the object was to make my back crack as much as possible, and when this wasn’t forthcoming he continued to lean back further and pull on my arms with increasing ferocity. He must have looked like he was riding a sleigh. I felt like I was close to being snapped in half.

And then he continued with the rest of my body. As a chiropractor I have spent a substantial part of my life investigating the limitations of joints but I was amazed by my masseur's meticulous attention to detail – nothing was left uncracked. Fingers, wrists, elbows, shoulders, ribs, hips, knees, ankles, toes … everything. He even gave my ears a tug.

I suppose I shouldn’t have been too shocked, mass joint manipulation like this is common in primitive types of physical therapies. Hippocrates, the father of modern medicine, was recorded to have been a regular user. And while I’m sure it can do some good, I much prefer it to be administered by some one a lot more experienced. I left the bath house feeling clean, loose and limber yet somehow … violated.

Gallery: Uzbekistan

craigandsimon — Thu, 21 Sep 2006 23:02:00 GMT

Fly Tajikistan Airlines!

craigandsimon — Sun, 17 Sep 2006 19:35:00 GMT

Scuttling into Khorog, the terminus of the incredible Pamir Highway, we discovered that we had a grueling 23 hour drive (assuming the bus didn’t break down) ahead of us to get to Dushanbe, the capital of Tajikistan. Normally this would be fine for gluttons of travel punishment like us but we had hoped to get there a lot quicker as we had to apply for visas to Uzbekistan. Whilst we were pondering this we came across a Dutch couple who had just flown in from Dushanbe – it was amazing they said! The scenery was phenomenal and it only cost a bit more than the bus! That sealed it for us, early the next morning we got a dented taxi to the airport.

We had been assured that we would have no trouble buying tickets on the day of the flight, apparently that is what everyone did. Just in case we got there 3 hours before takeoff and positioned ourselves in front of the booking office, apart from a lovely lady from Dushanbe with a mouth of gold teeth we were the first there. After an hour a young guy in a bad suit unlocked the office and offered us a gaze of pure scorn. How dare you want to buy a ticket, it said. This was our introduction to the warm service of Tajikistan Airlines.

Over the next couple of hours we tried to repeatedly to buy tickets to no avail. The first obstacle was actually just getting into the office and at one stage I almost came to blows with a man guarding the door. He physically dragged me out into the corridor because apparently he didn’t want me in the office. Finally we managed to get ourselves into this hallowed inner sanctum only to be told a string of reasons why we couldn’t have tickets – “I don’t know if there is a plane today”, “Come back in 5 minutes”, “Come back in an hour”, “What are you doing in the office? Get out!”, “Come back in 10 minutes”, “I don’t know if there are any seats left”, “Maybe you have a ticket, I really don’t know”, “There are no seats left”, “I think maybe there are seats left, give me money just in case” …

The ridiculous thing was that whilst we had this epic struggle there was a continual stream of local men casually sauntering into the office, hugging the ticket seller and purchasing a ticket without fuss. Meanwhile he was telling us there were no tickets for sale. In situations like this it has been our experience that the best course of action is to grit your teeth, smile and call him names that you know he can’t understand.

The lady from Dushanbe was also having no joy at buying a ticket and it finally dawned on me what was happening – they were selling tickets to all the local people and if in the end there were any left over we would be allowed to go. There may be electricity, internet and push-up bras in this country but when it comes down to getting things done it is still very, very tribal.

By some miracle, 20 minutes before take off we greeted and told that they had tickets for us! We might have just achieved something very small but at that moment we felt we deserved Nobel Prizes. With a good deal of laughing, singing and dancing we made our way over to the runway which was surprisingly free of pot-holes but we were slightly disconcerted by the herd of cattle grazing on its edge.

Check-in was the standard beaurocractic circus. A fat, smoking soldier had a cursory look at our tickets and grunted at us. After him was a group of fat, smoking soldiers who had cursory looks at our tickets and grunted at us. Then there was the fat, smoking soldier who wrote something in a book and grunted at us. There was no x-ray machine but a young guy not in uniform came over to pat our bags. He couldn’t be bothered searching the big bags so he just looked in the outer pockets. Triumphantly out of Craig’s backpack he pulled a small camping knife and told us that it wasn’t allowed on the plane but if we gave him some money then it was OK! As always when we are asked for a bribe we flatly refused so unfortunately we lost the knife.

The aging Russian YAK 40 jet could have easily have been the past possession of some Soviet despot but for now it was a passenger jet. Again we were amazed at the efficiency of Tajikistan Airlines – there was none of the cumbersome loading of luggage into the hold, everyone simply brought their suitcases onto the plane and dumped them in the back row! Similarly, there wasn’t a boring safety demonstration by the stewardess and there were seat belts but no one bothered wearing the pesky things. And leaving your mobile phone turned on was absolutely allowed!

The flight itself was incredible – for an hour we threaded our way through giant mountains to Dushanbe. The pilot probably didn’t want to waste fuel by climbing to a safer altitude which meant we were coming startlingly close to some of the peaks but the view was spectacular (despite the turbulence). We landed in Dushanbe and collapsed exhausted, though more from the ordeal of buying tickets than the actual trip. But it was worth the struggle, the flight was unlike anything we've experienced before. I think that to fly Tajikistan Airlines you need a bit of a masochistic streak - we clearly fitted the bill.

Wuzzing through the Pamirs

craigandsimon — Sat, 9 Sep 2006 18:33:00 GMT

What can I say this was a drive of a lifetime, the Pamirs hold some of the most beautiful scenery in the world. We started in Murghab which is a small town situated amongst the mountains, it was definately a good introduction to the isolation that these people feel. After we bargained our driver down from the outrageous price of $500US to a more than reasonable $250 we set of on what was to be an eyeopener of an adventure. Our car of choice for the trip was the mighty Wuz and old Russian built van that can take on anything you throw at them, although later our drivers didn’t share the same sentiment.

At the agreed time of 8 am Simon, our new travleling buddy Nick and myself waited paitiently down at the bazaar only to find out that our driver was working on Dushanbe time which is an hour behind (well that was his excuse anyway). So after this auspicious start we headed for Bolon Kol lake which had been recommended by a fellow traveller. We arrived only to find out that because of the lack of rain the lake was not all that it was cracked up to be, so after a brief stop we headed back to the turn off to the Wakhan valley. This is when it got good and I mean really good. Almost immediately we were surrounded by huge mountains whilst heading down one of the most dusty and rough tracks of the trip so far. We thoroughly enjoyed it but our drivers didn't and as soon as we stopped for some photos they decided to take this opportunity to ask me for more money. I must have looked like an easy target but they were visably dissapointed when I kept on repeating my favorite of Russian words “niet”.

Further into the Wakhan valley the scenery became more and more stunning and at one stage our driver turned round to us and pointed to the mountain range and said with a big smile “Afghanistan!” then proceeded to make gestures of a gun with his hands and pointing them at us. Disappointment was becoming a regular thing for our driver as it had the opposite effect on us and we looked at him with excitement not fear. We actually asked him to stop at one stage so that we could have a bit of a look around for old Osama but unfortunaltey we came up with nothing which was shame because we could have really done with that reward money.

The road twisted and turned through the valley and as we were the only car on the track farmers, that were used to having the thing to themselves, were surprised when our Wuz came round the corner and nearly took out some of their livestock. Our first stop along the Wakhan corridor was a fantastic little oasis called Langar. It truly was one of the most beautiful towns any of us had ever seen, set down in the valley dwarfed by the humongous mountains and filled with some fantastic characters, especially our host for the night who made us all feel very welcome. Much to our drivers irk they thought it was silly little town and kept on pushing us to leave straight away and head to Khorog which was bigger. We flat out refused and told them that we had agreed with them before the trip started that we would be spending the night here and in Ishkashim. Dissapointment again for our drivers (I really think at this point they really stated to hate us and that easy $250 was not so easy anymore), after a fantastic meal we set down for a fantastic nights sleep amoungst the mountains. Our drivers had chosen to sleep out in the van because they didn’t trust the locals.

Next morning we were greeted by the sight two unhappy and tired drivers but this did nothing to get us down as the valley was bathed in the first light of day making the mountains even more stunning than before. We went for a stroll around the small town snapping away with our cameras which nearly all the children of the town wanted to get in as they made their way to school. We set off of for Ishkashim and as we had a large van and only the three of in the back we picked up as many locals as possible making there way between towns. Sometimes we didn’t have a choice as a local policeman just got in and sat in the back without a glance at any of us. Not wanting to upset the local constabulary we just left him to himself and his crossword.

We arrived in Ishkashim and the three of us came to the conclusion to get rid of the dark cloud that had unfortunately followed us from Murghab, so we told our drivers that they could make their way to Khorog and that we would find other means of transport. This was wonderful news to our drivers but we had one last request and that was to drive us to the Afghanistan border so that Nick could continue on his own adventure. As soon as their mission was completed and money was handed over our drivers speed off leaving us in a cloud of dust with woops of glee (we're not that bad are we). Getting Nick across the border was not as simple as we may have thought, mainly because the border guards had gone off on lunch break and that was 2 hrs ago and nobody at the border knew when they would be back. So after another hour waiting around they guards returned but we had to wait while they processed a family and by the time they had finished they told us they were closed but after some pleading they finally let Nick across into the great unknown. He should be on his way to Kabul right now…..hopefully.

So that brings us to the end of trip through the mighty Pamirs If anybody gets a chance to do this grab it with both hands because you will be totally rewarded with some of the most amazing sights this great earth has to offer (just make sure you get better drivers though).

Gallery: Tajikistan

craigandsimon — Thu, 7 Sep 2006 17:29:00 GMT

At the pot hole take a right

craigandsimon — Tue, 29 Aug 2006 20:05:00 GMT

So we are on the road to the Tjkekistan and up the Pamir hwy.

Leaving Bishkek we felt a little sad, we had spent a bit of time and we kinda felt it was a bit like home, but as soon as we got out we knew we were back on the road to adventure our first stop would be Lake Song Kul where we would finally get to sleep in a traditional Yurt, something we have been looking forward to since we got to Central Asia.

After some of the most insane driving and alot of vodka we arrived in Song Kul. The yurt was awesome, they fill it with cushions and all you can do is lay back realax and drink lots and lots of chai until you fall asleep. The next day we grabbed a couple of horses and went in search of water cos there is none available to drink up there and we didn't bring enough with us. Our horses were not exactly the best beast in the lot. One was incredibly lazy whilst the other only ever wanted to turn right and head back to the yurt and there was nothing you could do about it as Simon found out much to my amusement. After we swapped horses we made our way up into the hills in search of a stream but after 3 hrs we found nothing and came back emptyhanded. Unfortunatly the ride had jiggled something loose on my belly and I was about to spend the next 20hrs on the floor of a yurt feelling very very sick to which the only cure according to our hosts was VODKA, this seems to be the answer to everything in this country. After I denied this cure they were all very shocked to see me walking about the next day feeling better. I hope I haven't damaged the rep of Vodka in the country although I think this is probably very hard to do. We left Song Kul and made our way to Tashrabat to stay in more yurts but nooooooo horses and no vodka.

Tashrabat has got to be one of the most beautiful places on earth, our Yurt was smack bang in the middle of 4 valleys and each one I'm sure had a story to tell as this was one of the mnain stops on the old Silk route. From this area we went on one of the most awesome hikes ever with some of the most beautiful scenery ever. At the end of the hike, after 4 hrs and a few wrong turns in the pure Simon and Craig traditon, we arrived at the peak of the mountain which over-looked a lake with the mountains as its background refelcting in its clear waters. After a few cheese and tomato sandiwches plus a fantatisc nap we made our way back to the yurt camp to find out that we had maybe taken to long and a search party was out looking for us.

Next stop was Osh via Naryn and Kazerman. Leaving Naryn we had to fight for our seats in a Wuzz, which is a very old Russian van built to hold maybe 10 people at the best of times but our driver had it up to 22 paople at one point for an agonizing 4 hrs on a very bumpy road. From Kazerman we jumped in another old Russian car, this one was a 4 wheel drive because the road was the worst in the country. Now when i say our car was old I mean really old. It was over 50yrs old and still used a crank shaft at the front to get it started, but it got us to Osh which made us and our fellow German and Israeli passengers very very relieved.

So into Osh and our guest house had over booked so the owner set us up with our own flat which we turned into the most swinging bachelor pad in Osh, well our first night anyway, so after a very long week waiting around for our GBAO permits for the Pamirs in Tajikistan we are finally on our way to the roof of the world we also have a new travelling buddy his name is Nick and the poor blokes English but we won't hold that against him.

Stay tuned people we got a feeling this is going to be one of the best adventures yet.

Lada … King of the Track

craigandsimon — Mon, 28 Aug 2006 19:20:00 GMT

It’s not often that you get a Lada driver in Kyrgyzstan without vodka on their breath but that’s all part of the charm. Apart from a smattering of Mercedes and BMW’s (I have suspicions they are stolen from Germany) everyone drives these sturdy Russian vehicles. Whether its cruising the suburbs, tearing along a pot-holed highway or ploughing along a goat track in the mountains these cars are everywhere and the people love them.

The big question I have is WHY?

They are terribly unreliable and will overheat whilst climbing a pimple of hill. It’s arguable whether acceleration is possible except when going down hill. Their interior is a minimalism that Lenin would be proud of and their cantankerous performance is purely Stalin-esque. A jaunty, boxy lump of iron, they come in a variety of colours: off-white, off-green, off-orange and very brown. While most are at least 20 years old there are some newer models in circulation but the Lada design team has stuck to the traditional body shape and made few other changes. The engines definitely sound louder but I have a sneaking suspicion that they have the same strength.

We had a memorable Lada experience traveling to Lake Son Kul in Eastern Kyrgyzstan. We managed to secure a ride with two farmers in their aging vehicle for the 60km ride from highway. This mammoth distance was covered in an epic three hours as we nursed the car over bad roads and moderate hills. Its radiator wasn’t much bigger than a cushion and had a leak so we had to pull over regularly to refill it. Sometimes we drove only ten minutes before we had to stop again.

Upon summiting the last hill the driver pulled over, removed a bottle of vodka from the glove box and called for a celebration. My Australian sensitivities about sharing straight spirits with a driver were roughly squashed and I am sure that if we had refused to drink then we’d have been kicked out of the car. After much yelling and singing they finally got us to the lake and called for another bottle of vodka. After even more yelling and singing our hosts hugged us, promised to be friends for ever and drove away into the dust. It was a very emotional experience.

Which brings me back to my original question of why the Lada. Yes, the engines are woefully underpowered but if they were any stronger everyone would speed too much and crash. Yes, the seats are hard and uncomfortable but there needs to be room for boxes, jerry cans, grandmothers and chickens, not comfy padding. Yes, the steering is outrageously loose but how else could the driver perform the necessary tasks of smoking, drinking, spitting, gesticulating and shouting at cows. Yes, the suspension is rock hard and you feel every jolt but if it was any softer the car would bounce like a basketball on the ripped roads. Yes, there are overheating problems because of the tiny radiators but at least there is less to freeze in winter - I have heard stories of people warming their engines in winter by building a small fire under the motor. Really when it comes down to it, for a struggling post-Soviet nation like Kyrgyzstan, the Lada is culturally appropriate.

We're here!!!!!!!!

craigandsimon — Sun, 20 Aug 2006 17:00:00 GMT

Ok where did we leave you guys ahhh thats right Pakistan and the mighty Karakoram, well after crossing the border into China at a remarkable 4700mtrs we made our way to Kashgar which is the staging point for our trip into Central Asia. Kashgar is very diffent to your usual Chinese town mainly due to the big influence from Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, trying to find a basic Chinese meal was no mean feat.

After 4 days it was the 27th which meant Central Asia here we come woohoo! We made our way to the International bus station and prepared for the 23hr bus ride to Osh. The hightlight of this ride had to have been our driver, a giant of a man and crosseyed, thats right crosseyed, I dunno about you but thats not something that we really look for in a bus driver. To top it all off whilst we were waiting to board he got in a fight with one of the passengers and it took nearly the entire bus to split them up ... fun fun fun. Whith all this excitment we were somewhat dissapointed when the trip was one of the smoothest we have head so far and the view when we crossed from China to Kyrgyzstan was spectacular, it really is deserving of the title "the Switzerland of Central Asia".

So finally we arrived in Osh and after enlisting the help of a naive taxi driver we set out on the Quest to find the most hidden guest house in the enitire world. We fianlly got ourselves settled and made out for our first Central Asian breakfast and much to Craigs delight it consited of meat, lots and lots of meat. To make our way from Osh to Bishkek we needed to organise a private taxi for the 15 hr journey (maybe you can see a pattern developing here), enter Ishamel the oldest dirver we could find plus the cheapest and with his mighty LADA we made our way to Bishkek. Simon describes Ishmael like this " he's not a BAD driver he's just LAZY" and this was true as he just stayed on whichever side of the road suited him most until he would swerve out of the way just before we were wiped off the road. Everyone thought Craig was being generous when he gave up the front seat but after 5 mins in what was dubbed the seat of death it was quickly traded away at the next stop.

When we arrived in Bishkek we were very suprised at how european the city actually was, although not so as too lose that post Soviet feel. One skill you develop in Bishkek is how to dodge open man holes - there are loads of them and if you arent aware you will find yourself having an early dip not a nice way to wake up in the morning. The minibus system in Bishkek is fantastic, they will take you everywhere you wanna go and sometimes not for the paltry fee of 5 som and the joy of an armpit of bum in ya face. Most of them are filled like sardine cans.

We are very happy to be here in Bishkek and look forward to working with the orphanages here.

Three Orphanages in Bishkek

craigandsimon — Tue, 15 Aug 2006 19:13:00 GMT

Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan's capital, is a beautiful modern city with a fair smattering of department stores, nice hotels and fine restaurants but as is often the case if you stray from the main streets then you get a more realistic picture of the state of the country. Kyrgyzstan is another small country with few resources experiencing post-Soviet economic stagnation and it's too far away to be absorbed and propped up by the European Union. People work long hours for little pay and live in aging cramped appartments; alcoholism is rife, as are the myriad social problems associated with it. Unfortunately the government simply doesn't have the funds to deal these issues, as we witnessed in three of the city's orphanages.

Tokmok orphanage houses 95 children aged birth-4 years, the majority of which are special needs. The kids, suffering conditions from autism to cerebal palsy, had been abandoned or given away by parents unable to care for them. The staff we saw were wonderful - handfeeding the kids, playing and caring for them but they recieved insufficient funding to supply all of the medicines needed for the children. Thanks to the support of World Nomads and Footprints we were able to purchase for them a lot of the medicine they were lacking - they were incredibly grateful.

Kant orphanage, an old soviet-style concrete building on the outskirts of the city, sleeps 30 children aged 2-7 years. A lot of these children come from caring families but their parents have to work in remote areas so the kids were placed there for 6 months at a time. The orphanage had a full time nurse but unfortunately no medicines, not even basic ones, to give the children if they were sick! We were able to buy them a supply to last them a year - bandages, iodine, cough syrup, antibiotics, paracetamol - basic things but so very badly needed. The centre had also been using the same sets of sheets and towels for 17 years, when we managed to supply them with new sets the manager almost cried.

Samuel orphanage is small facility housing only 14 children aged 4-14 years. Most of these children had suffered appalling childhoods and had to be rescued from abusive situations. They stay in the orphanage, attend the local school, perform household chores and milk the centre's four cows to sell the milk. Once again we were able to supply them with a supply of basic medicines and also pencils, a pile of exercise books and toothbrushes (their teeth were in a shocking state due to their life before the orphanage).

Visiting these places was very confronting for us, we saw beautiful children who smiled and played despite their situation. Resources were lacking but the staff were dedicated and caring, even though their daily wage was less than US$1. And the reality is that these are the lucky children - the waiting lists for these orphanages are enormous.

Gallery: Kyrgyzstan

craigandsimon — Mon, 7 Aug 2006 20:51:00 GMT

Climbing the Karakoram

craigandsimon — Wed, 26 Jul 2006 18:04:00 GMT

The Karakoram Highway blasts its way through some of the world's largest mountains and snakes its way north from Islamabad to the Chinese border. It is a remarkable feat of Pakistani army engineering - arching along impossibly steep slopes, skirting the raging river's edge, relentlessly heading up, up, up. Starting at essentially sea level, by the time it peaks at the Khunjerab Pass on the border it is topping 4800m high.

But it's not an original road. For thousands of years people have been using that narrow valley to transport goods from Central Asia to Southern Asia and vice versa. The Karakoram Range, an offshoot of the Himalayas, is one of the trickiest stretches of terraine on the planet to negotiate and this is the most reliable route through. It is the southern leg of the infamous Silk Route, the collection of trails across asia through which the East and the West traded. It made my toes tingle to think that only a couple of hundred years ago people were still travelling the same route with caravans of camels larger than cricket crowds. Nowadays the route is still used for trading, day and night machismo trucks charge the highway with products from China. Trade between the two countries is booming if the traffic on the highway is anything to judge by. I never expected this but I suppose Pakistan is so dedicated to having disputes with all its other neighbours, it's got to be friends with one of them.

After spending a few days cooking in Lahore and Islamabad we were ready for some cool weather. Every day was over 40 degrees and the fine, brown dust from the land filled the sky, forming a continual dust storm that Woody Guthrie would have been happy to sing about. Battling dehydration and black boogers in our noses we jumped onto the overnight bus to Gilgit, in the foot hills of the mountains. It was a shuddering journey, the road was in good condition but it twisted, turned, droppped and rose so sharply that sleep was essentially impossible. It didn't help that our driver was clearly under the impression that our bus was Formula 1. When the sun finally rose and I saw how narrow was the road and how steep was drop I pulled shut the curtain on the window.

Gilgit was thankfully cool and surrounded by glorious snow capped peaks. Over the next two weeks made our way slowly north stopping at Karimibad, Passu and Sost. The scenary along the way was nothing short of incredible. Jagged peaks jutted out of the impossibly high ranges on each side of valley. Glaciers squatted on the high passes moving inches each year, snow hung on the big mountains reflecting glare like silver sunglasses.

We did some unbelievable hikes - clambered up a high pass to have tea by a glacier, crossed a wide river on a suspension bridge that appeared to have the durability of balsa wood, stayed the night at 3500m with a shepherd in his tent. Seeing soft light bounce off mountains at sunset and sunrise is one of the most special things in the world for me. It makes you feel so big and small at the same time. Small on the outside and big on the inside, I think.

The biggest highlight of northern Pakistan though is undoubtedly the people. I have never encountered such a warm and welcoming culture. Everyone you meet on the street greets you and asks how you are, and they are genuine, they really are interested how you are. And well, if you are a cricket fan then they are even more interested. Pakistani people feel an obligation to always be hospitable. On one hike we passed through a tiny village and a little girl invited us into her hut to have tea with her grandmother. They didn't have any paper to light the fire to boil the water, instead they had the novel approach of setting fire to a plastic shopping bag stuffed under the kindling. Yes, it worked (kinda) but I expect you lose a year of life for each breath you inhale.

Our stay in Pakistan has been such a pleasure, we feel refreshed and enthusiastic. And now to China ...

Gallery: Pakistan

craigandsimon — Tue, 25 Jul 2006 19:57:00 GMT

Boiling on the border

craigandsimon — Mon, 24 Jul 2006 21:21:00 GMT

So its time for us to get out of India and of to Pakistan but before we do there is one more pace to visit Amritser the home of the Golden Temple, this place beats the Taj hands down not only is it free to enter (Taj 750 rupees!!!) but there is free food, plus its full of the nicest people we met in India and the temple itself is one of the most outstanding building we have ever had the pleasure of laying our eyes on.

After the Golden Temple we wipe the sweat from our brows and make our way to the Pakistan border, we bordered the bus followed by about 100 Indians, the bus is full and today is not the day to be on a full bus 49 degrees and counting, the bus slowly empties as we make our way to the border with people giving us curious stares as if to say "Your going to Pakistan, why do you wanna go there" but we just smile and wave goodbye. We arrive at the border and the bus is compleatly empty even the conductor gave up on us giving us one last curious stare before leaping from the bus.

After the bus drops us off and screams away leaving us in a cloud of dust we slowly make our way up the 1km strech of road to the border, saying our last no-thankyous to some eager touts offering us dinky rides to the border, we look to our left and notice one traveller has taken them up on this, reclining on the back enjoying a beer, his last for however long he is travelling through the next few countries, we both kick ourselves for not thinking the same thing(and we call ourselves Australian).The border crossing went ahead very smoothly if you can call visiting a total of 7 offices along the way smooth.

As we cross the border into Pakistan we do so with some trepidation, unsure as to what to expect we are supreamly happy to discover that Pakistan is full of wonderful people everywhere, everyone wants to say hello and welcome us to their country plus as soon as they find out we are Aussies cricket is the main subject (this pleased craig as he was very dissapointed by the lack of enthusiasm, shown by the Indians whilst we were there). After we were settled in Lahore our tummies were starting to rumble so its was off to Food st for KEBABS!!!!! cow baby yeah.

One night in Lahore was all we could handle its one of the hottest and most polluted places we have ever visited, so we head North for Rawilpindi for one night, now its time for us to escape this heat and head for the Pakistani mountains and up the Karakoram hwy so stay tuned

Ode to Patna

craigandsimon — Mon, 10 Jul 2006 16:24:00 GMT

We recently had pleasure of having a painful overnight stop in Patna, a grimy northern Indian rail hub. We arrived late, got mobbed at the station, were almost run over on the street, attacked by a pack of wild dogs and then were repeatedly told that every hotel was full. It was horrible.

However it has inspired us to vent our spleen in poetic form

There is a town called Patna,

Where savage dogs try to bite ya.

The roads are full of dust,

A hotel reservation is a must.

The only thing on TV is William Shatner.

Wild dogs bark

Choking in Patna

Hotel staff hate us

P overty

A ggresive dogs

T urned away

N o compassion!

A ngst

(sung to the tune of "Hey Mickey")

Oh Patna you're so crap,

You're so crap you made me snap,

Oh Patna ... Oh Patna

Oh Patna what a pity you dont understand,

I arrive at midnight with no booking and you cover me in sand.

Oh Patna you're so rude can't you understand,

It's towns like you Patna,

What you do Patna, do Patna,

Don't break my bowels Patna.

Oh Patna (clap clap clap)

(Repeat chorus indefinitely)

Stone breakers of Siliguri

craigandsimon — Thu, 6 Jul 2006 23:08:00 GMT

This week we had the opportunity to represent Footprints (World Nomad’s charity) in Siliguri, where we visited 2 communities of Stone breakers:

Chenga: pop-2500, no electricity, water, or sewage, the nearest hospital was a 12km WALK (that’s a long way to carry a dying child).

Balson: pop-3500, all the same problems as Chenga plus they were in a flood plain. Malaria, HIV and TB were very big problems in this area.

The poverty was extreme in both camps, the people adults and children were earning under $1 dollar a day to break and mine stone out of the nearby river. There were giant mounds of broken and unbroken rocks next to each hut, if it rained work didn’t stop it just got taken inside. Oh and by the way they weren’t using a hammer, they just used a solid cylinder of metal. They had built a school for the children which was open 2hrs a day, when that was over it was back to breaking rocks.

With a bunch of senior chiropractic students from Murdoch University, we set out to do some good. We set up a in the school huts with benches for adjustments plus a triage area with medical supplies provided by Footprints. People turned up with an array of disease and injuries also some were just curious as to what we were up to, especially the chiropractors. We came across some extreme cases, one of the worst was a small boy completely covered in sores as a result of inheriting syphilis, it really was heart wrenching.

We worked for around 11 hrs a day trying to treat as many people as possible in the camps and encouraging them to come back and see us the next time we returned. The great thing was that everybody did and they were all improving. Of course with us two being there it was never going to be serious all the time, we had to have fun as well because sometimes the best cure for anybody is laughter. Due to Craig’s lack of chiropractic skills he was put in charge of entertainment not only for the kids but students as well with pranks a plenty and remakes of the games from the 2006 world cup (in Craig’s version Australia beat Italy). Plus Craig learnt a new trick of putting a rubber glove over his head and blowing it up till it burst, this was a huge hit with the kids.

On our final day we went to the city’s pharmacist to buy enough medicines to last them a year. In total we spent $500.It sure does go a long way out here, the price of medicines are so incredibly cheap with a pack of antibiotics costing the equivalent of 60c Aus.

We had an amazing time here, especially by having such a positive effect on the two communities, and we look forward to our future projects with Footprints.

High Tea in Darjeeling

craigandsimon — Fri, 30 Jun 2006 23:56:00 GMT

To escape the sweltering heat of the northern Indian plains we have scurried up into the hills to Darjeeling, the quintessential British colonial hill station and home to the worlds finest tea. To get to Darjeeling is an adventure in itself. The road twists along the hill sides and is half a car wide which makes it quite interesting considering the ten cars bearing down on you from the other direction. Naturally the drivers remain undaunted and attack with the usual panache worthy of their Gurkha heritage. So for all you extreme sports fanatics, you can have your base jumping and mountain biking – we’ll take this drive any day.

It certainly was high tea, Darjeeling sits a bit over 2000m above sea level and has a lovely temperate climate. Unfortunately however at this time of year you spend most of your time in the middle of a cloud. We were both excited about stories of seeing the Himalayas in the distance, instead it was a thrill to see more than 10m in front of us.

There is incredible cultural diversity in the area, with Buddhist temples sitting next door to Hindu temples, which are next door to mosques. People range from Indian to Nepalese to Tibetan to Bengalese to Bhutanese to Chinese, which makes for an astonishing variety of dishes on restaurant menus (there was even beef).

The British influence is still very much present, even though the people aren’t. Some of the houses are classic English cottages and school kids wear a full school dress of blazer, vest, tie, trousers and shiny black shoes. But for all things British nothing beats the Darjeeling Planters Club. Set on a bank overlooking the town, it has a wide balcony with large wicker chairs and splendid rose garden. There is a lounge, bar, library and billiards room all of which have deep crimson carpet and are adorned with stuffed animals. It was a true monument to everything British … except that it was falling to pieces.

Now that our batteries are charged it’s time to do some work. We are heading down to the Siliguri where, with the support of Footprints, we will be providing medical assistance to a community of impoverished stone breakers. Watch this space.