World Trip

Indonesia

ivanci — Thu, 2 Dec 2010 12:11:00 GMT

The airport hall at Kuala Lumpur looks very tidy and for few minutes we think total renovations have been done recently but NO, ‘beauty is in the eye of beholder’, it is only in our brains … four months in India have changed our perception of tidiness and cleanness. We are catching a connecting flight to Sulawesi island which opens our way to Indonesia with a promise of best snorkeling in the region. Shortly after landing in Makassar we get swamped with touts offering guided tour to Tana Toraja. “What the heck is Tana Toraja?” we ask. “You must see funeral ceremony, now it's high season” they reply. Totally baffled we ask staff at New Legend hotel for an explanation … Tana Toraja is a region at central Sulawesi, populated mostly by Christians practicing very unique funeral ceremonies. Well, on Saturday morning we buy tickets to Rantepao and then we’ll see. ‘Ten hours of windy road through lush green jungle’ could be words describing that day. By late afternoon weather deteriorated and at 8pm we rush from the bus to gates of Duta88 hotel in heavy torrential rain. Next morning we join German tourist Nicole to share a car with driver and guide Agus to visit local village where funeral ceremony takes place. Stopping at few cave burial sites Agus explains how dead bodies preserved with formalin can be kept in family house for years until the family is ready for ceremony – usually after they bunch up enough money. One of grandmothers from this particular noble family died 5 years ago and her funeral ceremony is today! Apparently for all those five years she has been lying in her bed and family members talked to her every day … just that she never replied. Occasionally she got a lit cigarette … very bizarre! We arrive to the village at around 11am, already there must be well over 1000 people present, 28 buffaloes and many pigs to be slaughtered later, provisional houses were built and colorful dancers are ready for sharp 12-noon start. Using large PA system the M.C. officially opened the ceremony – procession starts with buffaloes followed by ladies dressed in black and about 30 males carrying the coffin decorated in Torajan style. In disbelief we watch jungle-crazy ritualistic jumping with almost devilish laughter while they carry the coffin with dead body inside which must have been tossed around hundred times. No one shows any signs of grief or sadness, in contrary people are very joyful and obviously enjoy themselves. We certainly feel out of place when few buffaloes are sacrificed with a single slit through throat, we happened to stand just few meters away. Definitely not our cup of tea, after fours hours we can’t take any more and decide to leave. Later we learned that this ceremony continuously lasted for four days and cost family over US$200,000! Unbelievable! Apparently, deceased woman planned her own funeral with all family members many years before she died. We are looking forward to few days in Togean islands indeed so on Wednesday morning we leave Rantepao by a northbound bus. Never thought until now how large Sulawesi island is – 12 hours later we are dropped off on main road somewhere near Tentena, and we are nowhere near Togeans yet. It is 9pm, dark and raining. In very basic English few locals offer overnight taxi to Ampana for 900,000 IDR ($100) which is overpriced and we rather decide to walk into dark and find some place to sleep… tomorrow we can catch public bus. We walk and walk ... hey, there is small hotel but nobody is around, even loud bashing on doors does not produce any response. Finally caretakers come out … but in the same time two stylish black cars appear out of darkness and drivers offer to take me and Iva overnight to Ampana harbor for 300,000 IDR so tomorrow morning we could catch last public boat to islands before the end of Ramadan celebrations start (apparently nothing will work for next three or four days!). Well, price is right … let’s go! As the road winds through pitch dark jungle we both start thinking: “Who are these two guys? We do not even know their names, nothing about them. We are in hands of two complete strangers. Was this safe thing to do?” … These sort of questions rush through our heads and driver's suggestion to take a nap sounds as complete nonsense. Ha, we fall asleep and you will … who knows what!? Relief came after midnight during brief stop at roadhouse where we asked many ‘tricky’ questions … and now it all makes good sense. Drivers, working for a travel company are going to pick up six Dutch tourists at Ampana and extra cash from us was just a nice bonus. Now we can have good sleep in comfy reclining seats without any worries and the rest of night was actually quite pleasant. At 4am we arrived to Ampana harbor but it is still too early and we need to kill few hours as boats do not leave before 9am. Seven hours on public boat for a price of private one! We are getting first taste of being seriously ripped off but no one can speak English and we must pay if we do not want to be stuck in boring Ampana for next 3-4 days. We arrive to beautiful Palau Kadidiry at 5pm on Thursday 8^th September. Seawater with many shades of blue and green is also crystal clear and we smile at each other thinking of next few days ahead. Staying at Paradise Resort is not really a matter of choice and even at 400,000 IDR per night ($50 including three meals per day) we decide to stay here – competition on this island is limited to three. Pretty poor choice but anyway, we have come for coral and fish so let’s enjoy it. What a magic world this underwater kingdom is! … only if it was not spoiled with smell of raw sewer and floating plastic bags just around the corner. These people do not know what treasure they have … and hence do not care about it. Coral is not anyhow extraordinary but varieties of tropical fish are astonishing – endless myriad of shapes, sizes and colors, the most abundant are combinations of yellow, blue, green, purple and all the others from rainbow. Cute Nemos seem to enjoy my teasing game and always charge at my finger from their safe homes. Spectacular tropical aquarium! “Dobry den” I say, overhearing two girls on beach, speaking in Czech … and we become quick friends with Katka and Renata, both enthusiastic divers. Well, end of Ramadam celebrations have finished and apparently public (= cheap) boats work again… 14 hours overnight trip on overcrowded timber boat Puspita was not exactly snugly but when we land at Gorontalo at 6am, we are happy again. One more day on bus to Manado is all between us and so acclaimed Bunaken Island, The Mecca of all divers, and snorkelers too. Manado is busy modern city with many shopping malls, boutique shops and hotels of all budgets … our pick at hotel Regina is little expensive (200,000 p.n.) but clean and comfy, not too far from the harbor and one night will not break our budget. We have only one important question: “How do we get to Bunaken Island?” Public ferry goes once a day at 3pm so next day after lunch we walk to the harbor and guess who we see … Czech-chics Katka and Renata already negotiate transfer to Bunaken with private boat owner who offers free boat ride if we stay at Daniel’s Homestay. Hmm, after few clarifying questions the deal is done - we join girls and all four of us are on the move to the island. Color of water gradually changes from murky brownish (decorated with plastic rubbish) near Manado to deep blue-turquoise (almost undecorated) shades of mamma nature. Daniel’s Resort located on east side of Bunaken is nice and clean with all bungalows scattered through tropical garden just 50m off the beach. True paradise. Similarly as in Togeans all meals are included, free coffee, tea and drinking water 24/7, and all that for 300,000 p.n. ($36). Next day sunny morning is just too much of temptation so after breakfast we hire two sets of snorkeling gear and rush to the reef which is less then 100m from shore. Initially shallow reef suddenly drops off into a shear vertical wall and it is here where the marine life is ballistic. If we thought Togean islands were beautiful then this reef is unbelievably wonderful. I have never seen anything like that before – we do not even have to move our flippers because underwater life makes this extravagant performance for us. No surprise that Bunaken Island is top diving destination around the world! Many hours we spend suspended in the air, err .. in the water, watching and exploring life below. We see lion fish, many Nemos, turtle, box fish and endless palette of colors and shapes. At dinner we browse through Atlas Of Tropical Fish but it is impossible to remember all creatures we saw, let alone their names. Well, we’ll have no chance becoming marine biologists but definitely we have become marine admirers. Three days and nights of really good time come to the end and on Saturday 18^th Sep we leave Bunaken Island to stay one more night at Manado before catching early morning flight back to Makassar. Two tasks we have to do: 1. Find out how to get to Flores island by boat. 2. Extend our tourist visa by another 30 days. We struggle with both. Every time we ask relevant questions we get different answers … it is so frustrating. Ferry goes, ferry does not go, ferry goes on Sunday, ferry goes on Wednesday … who can we trust? Eventually pattern starts to crystallize and Sunday seems to be likely day when ferry leaves from Pantai Bira to Labuan Bajo. Ok, one problem solved. As for the other we get three different addresses for Immigration Office … which one is correct? Again, following laws of statistics we incline towards the most frequent answer and on Tuesday we catch local public transport pete-pete (mini-van) to get our extensions. Hmm, after filling multiple forms we are asked for a proof of out-bound air tickets (within time limits of original visa-on-arrival received at the airport) which we obviously do not have because we want to stay longer. Hello! Is anyone home! Why would we have outbound tickets if we ask for visa extension? Ohh, these administrative bureaucrats make us mad! We book two dummy ($45) tickets from Medan to K.L. (which we’ll never use, of course) before we return to immigration office in the same afternoon. Now we are almost sure we’ll get extension stamps without any more problems. Wrong! “Come back on Friday to pick up your passports” female officer says. “What? On Friday? Can’t we get it today? It is only one stamp in each passport.” is our reaction. Then female officer invites me to her office (Iva must wait outside) and she offers expedited service at an extra ‘fee’ 150,000 each, ehm … you mean a bribe. It is too expensive and we refuse … now we are stuck in Makassar at least until Friday but ferry leaves on Sunday anyway so there is no major rush right now. On Thursday we must pay regular extension fee of 250,000 each (~$30), Friday morning we pick up passports and by noon we are on mini-bus to Pantai Bira where we get confirmation that ferry leaves indeed on Sunday night. Bira sits on beautiful white sand beach and it is definitely much nicer place to wait for ferry then Makassar. Usual beach bum activities fill our time and on Sunday midnight we board large ferry to Flores. Exactly 24 hours later we step out at Labuan Bajo at 3am (we left Bira 3 hours late), not exactly best time to look for a place to sleep. Luckily we met two Canadian girls on boat who had previously been in Labuan Bajo, and they suggested we can relax few hours on sofas at The Lounge restaurant until sunrise… that was great idea. Today is Tuesday … next island hopping boat to Flores and Lombok leaves on Friday … we have missed one just by few hours. Bummer! We are stuck in Labuan Bajo … never mind, cancel all appointments and enjoy free time, ha,ha. Million dollar views from our bungalow at The Gardena home-stay compensate for our suffering (poor guys) so we do not complain too much, it is also good time to catch up with stuff on internet. Young Czech couple Jira and Svetla move into room next door and we kill some time chatting about travel. Boat operators let us sleep on the deck Thursday night for no extra cost and on Friday morning we start three days & nights cruise from Flores to Lombok. Bon Voyage! Apart from four-membered crew it is only two of us on the boat – we discover enormous advantage going from east to west, compared to travelers doing the trip in opposite direction. More then 90% of travelers start at Bali (probably flying first to Denpasar) and move eastward so boats are always full to their capacity of 12-20 people… we can have as many sleeping mattresses as we want, whole sleeping deck is ours and we can place them anywhere we want. When guys catch fish they share it with us (probably would not feed 15 people) … simply put, we love this trip. Snorkeling around Sumbawa island is simply amazing (here we also saw small moray eel) and short visit to Komodo National Park with its prehistoric looking dragons are just two of many highlights on the way. For total price $360 all inclusive this ‘island hopping’ was worth of every penny and that even includes transfer to Senggigi on the west coast of Lombok. So much talked-about Senggigi with overpriced restaurants does not make any special impressions and we do not understand why it has gained such wide popularity. Staying at Sonya Homestay ($12 p.n.) and eating at Warung Amalia were good values. Where to next? Of course, another famous magnet are Gilies, set of three small tropical islands: Air and Meno are smaller and quieter, party live Trawangan is more touristy. More then hour’s long wait for a boat going to Gili Air (boats do not leave until full - minimum 20 passengers) is too much, and we change to Trawangan instead, as boats fill very fast … every young traveler goes to Gili Trawangan. So do we. Beach dotted with restaurants, cafes, bars, homestays, shops and diving centers is a typical picture of tropical vacation. I am disappointed with snorkeling here because much of the coral is visibly damaged with dynamite fishing practices of the past and mama nature will take many years to revert human carelessness… saying that I watched large turtle peacefully swimming by. One day we hire pushbikes but we could not go too far as sandy path gets very difficult to paddle on. On Friday 8^th Oct we continue our journey by boat-bus-ferry to Padang Bai in Bali. Original plans were to leave Padang Bai next day but few tourists at dinner mentioned nice snorkeling spot at Blue Lagoon, just walking distance over the hill… so we stay for one more day. Picture perfect little bay does not match Bunaken or Komodo islands with marine life, though I guess it will be very difficult for anything to beat those two locations. Satisfied with many gorgeous beaches lately, we crave for a change … small hill town Ubud seems to be the right choice and our guesthouse owner offers his luxury car for the same price as shared mini-bus. Without any questions we accept and by noon we stroll through Ubud looking for suitable accommodation – Donald Homestay is just as good. Overly touristy but picturesque town is not annoying, good selection of restaurants with frequent Happy Hours make this place actually very enjoyable. Monkey Forest Sanctuary within walking distance from our homestay is well managed jungle reserve full of Macaques monkeys, living in their natural habitat but close enough to enjoy their comedian and mischievous behaviour. Tired I sit down and within few seconds two teenage rascals climb on my shoulders, one plays with water bottle while the other gives me grooming session in my hair, then I feel warmth on my back … it is wet, you little bugger you pissed on me! It does not smell and dries quickly so he (or she?) is forgiven. Afternoon we get Balinese massage done at our homestay ($5 for one hour) and we conclude evening with few Mojito cocktails … how much harder can it get? Not knowing the answer to that question, next morning we are heading to beaches again, this time to lovely Lovina at north Bali. Very pleasant and laid back Lovina has potential to spoil even the hardest workaholics, and we exploit exactly that over next three days. It worked. Hiring a brand new 115ccm motorbike for $5/day is irresistible and nature is calling … jungle covered hills with stunning waterfalls accessible through coffee plantations fill our lust for adventure and 100km driven today went quick like this. Black sand beaches around Lovina are definitely interesting and even exotic but we must admit white or gold sand is our preference. On Friday 15^th Oct we leave Bali on ferry to Java. Few touts immediately appear as soon as we step out of ferry, we follow one dressed in uniform and ‘pretending’ to be from government tourist office nearby. He actually was… and he offered reasonable deal – two nights at hotels and transfer in private car with a driver to Ijen and Bromo volcanoes. Our previous experience with slow and infrequent public buses helps to make quick decision to accept, we even get free first night upgrade to ‘deluxe room’. Next morning we leave by jeep at 4am, firstly passing through busy night veggie & fruit markets, then we slowly immerse into thick green jungle dressed in early morning fog. Jungle starts to wake up and morning sounds are amazing. Few times we must get out of car and walk uphill as badly worn tires keep slipping on rough and steep terrain … just before 6am we arrived to parking lot, still some 500m below Gunung Ijen. Quick coffee and sandwich for breakfast, and we are on the way 3km uphill to the rim, sharing the path with many miners. It is hard to believe what we see for next few hours - miners carry loads up to 90kg of yellow mineral from the bottom of 200m deep crater to its rim, and from here they have to walk another 3km downhill. I try to grab one of loaded baskets but no chance, it is just too heavy to lift it, let alone walk with that on my shoulders. These guys are very tough … and paid peanuts - $0.08/kg which translates to about $6-7 per average load. Some can do three runs a day but mostly only two. From the rim we attempt to descent to bottom but thick chocking smoke made of steam, sulphur dioxide and dihydrogen sulphide makes this very difficult … about half way down we call this mission off and we climb up back to the rim where fumes are dispersed by light winds. “Hello Ivanci” we hear from the crowd, somebody is waving hands up there … Jira and Svetla from Labuan Bajo. Having different transport arrangements we agree to meet at Cemoro Lawang near Gunung Bromo for dinner tonight. Café plantations and conical shapes of distant volcanoes give this six hours drive some extra flavor, at about 5pm we arrive to hotel at …. Only to find out that someone stuffed booking of our room (made by tourist office) and we need to be transferred to a different hotel… apparently with better views of Mt Bromo and Tengger crater. Room is very simple but the views are breathtaking! Ooo! Wow! This hotel is built right on the rim of huge caldera and Mr. Bromo puffs its smoke in front of our eyes. We enjoy this amazing sight until darkness sets in and slight chill moves us to restaurant. “Where might Jira and Svetla be now?” we speculate and knowing slow pace of public transport we do not actually expect them soon. Surprise ... they just walked in and we can start ordering meals. Next morning we wake up at 3:45am, it is not that cold as everyone portrayed and by 4am we are supposed to leave on 4WD jeep to Gunung Penanjakan from where we should have superb view of sunrise over the caldera. Jeep left late and we miss the sunrise … anyway, thick cloud totally obscured the sun and patches of fog cover the caldera below. Hmm, not that spectacular this morning but never mind … back to our jeep … but where is it? There are hundreds of 4WD’s and all look the same. It is weekend and the place is swamped with thousands of local tourists, not the best idea to visit Bromo on weekends. Anyway, we are here so let’s make the best out of it … we try to see anything from the rim of Mt Bromo after conquering hundred steps but no luck – fog mixed with fumes prevent any decent views. Ok, looks like Mt Bromo is not going to be the best sightseeing in Indonesia. By 8am we are back in our hotel and fog starts to lift exposing patches of blue sky – now we can shoot those famous postcard pictures! Irony of all is we did not have to leave hotel early at all – the best views came about 8 - 9am from restaurant. Jira and Svetla have just returned from their adventurous early-morning hike to Mt Bromo, and together we leave on comfy minibus for a long and tiring journey to Jogyakarta. First impressions are very positive – maize of narrow streets and pathways promise challenging fun, food and beer signs are posted on every corner and choice of homestays looks also pretty good. We like this town. Touristy but not annoyingly busy. We have only three days to visit two major temples and for Wednesday 20 September we have booked flight to Padang, Sumatra. Having an advantage of being a group we can negotiate good price for private car to Prambanan Temple (Hindu) on Monday, and Borobudur Temple (Buddhist) on Tuesday. Both sites definitely worth visiting and even after four months in Full-Of-Temples-India we enjoyed a scroll through. Good bye to Jira and Svetla over last supper, and very early Wednesday morning we catch taxi to the airport. Not seriously considering spending any time in Padung we catch direct minivan to Bukit Tinggy. Young crazy driver overtakes everyone, multiple scars on his face are probably leftovers from previous accidents and we are glad to see first streets of Bukit Tinggy after four hours of sweating (it was hot too). Small pleasant town offers few decent café-style restaurants with free wi-fi, monkey controlled Taman Panorama park with great views over Sianok canyon, and a multiple of good hotels. We stayed in LP-listed Hotel Khartini (good value breakfast included) for first two nights before we hopped on public bus for an overnight trip to Danau Maninjau (large lake formed at bottom of ancient volcanic crater). Good decision … views of lake while the bus was descending through 44 sharp bends were truly spectacular. Quiet and non-touristy village Maninjau seems to be occupied with only one activity and that is fish-farming … we just sit and enjoy relaxing sunset over rim of the crater. The best pancakes in the world start our next day before we hop on local bus back to Bukittinggy … one more night and on Saturday at 5pm we leave on overnight (sitting and freezing) bus to port Parapat on Danau Toba from where we catch small public ferry to Tuk-Tuk located on Samosir island. Truly relaxing place! For each tourist there seems to be hundred of hotel rooms available, we do not understand such high vacancy rates … Lonely Planet explains how this island was once busy full-moon party destination but since late 90’s this was somehow taken over by Ko Pha-Ngan in Thailand … and now all resorts are empty. Maybe sad for locals but we definitely enjoy very relaxing and slow motion atmosphere of present-time Somosir. Cheap motorbikes, tasty fish, clean and inviting lake water made our stay here very pleasant … except it rained a bit every day. Four days evaporated like morning mist, our visa is getting shorter every day and we yet want to see orangutans … time to move on! Pre-booked 8-seater van left Parapat on time (9am) arriving to Bukit Lawang at 6pm. Long and tiring day! Endless palm oil and rubber-tree plantations replaced wild jungle where orangutans used to live and we start to realize the extent of negative impact of this industry on our mother nature. Well, once in Bukit Lawang, Garden Inn guesthouse is about 15 minutes walk from taxi stand and we can sense those orange furred beautiful creatures somewhere nearby … they must be there in dense green jungle on the other side of river. Over dinner we agree to join a group of 3 other travelers for 2 days / one night jungle trek starting tomorrow morning ($170 for two). Our last adventure in Indonesia is about to begin! After breakfast we enter Bohorok N.P., walking path gets sometimes very narrow and slippery as we negotiate quite rugged terrain. Steep gradient makes this hike difficult regardless if we go up or down, luckily jungle trees offer many roots which we can hold on … here they are! We all point our eyes up to canopy where crunching sounds can be heard from, then we see our first “man of forest” hanging between branches … and it has little baby on its back! Our excitement is boundless and just like they would know this little baby performs its own acrobatics on lianas. Amazing and cute. We see many more later, somebody counted 9 adult orangutans, many with babies. One female with baby can be apparently quite dangerous (= protective) and we are strongly advised to keep safe distance … appropriately her name is “Meana”… later in day one guide is actually bitten by her. We are very lucky today and besides many orangutans we spot Thomas Leaf Monkeys, Gibbons, and of course ever present mischievous Macaques … tasting of quinine complements lessons on jungle flora. Later afternoon we descend to camp site set on banks of Bohorok River … crystal clean water is pleasantly refreshing and we enjoy the rest of afternoon before nice dinner. Sleep on thin matt is not so comfy but what the heck … it’s only one night. Next morning we get few visitors … few macaques hanging around our campsite wait for any opportunity to steal whatever looks like food, they even went for Iva’s swimmers in plastic bag but luckily realized soon it is useless and dropped it before disappearing in jungle. Large monitor lizard posed for few pics and wait … there is more … something orange is coming out of woods … mother with baby is coming for drink of fresh water. What an expedition! With more seen then we ever expected this is definitely our highlight. After lunch we pack up and get back to town on rope-tight-5-tractor-tubes raft. Excellent fun. On Sunday morning we visit feeding platform to learn more about orangutans … few semi-wild rehabilitated creatures come to drink milk from cups. It is not any different from children, very cute! Ok, time to say goodbye to Sumatra and after lunch we catch public bus to Medan airport. This is the end of our two months travel in Indonesia.

Photos: Indonesia

ivanci — Wed, 24 Nov 2010 10:27:00 GMT

Photos: India - North

ivanci — Wed, 22 Sep 2010 19:23:00 GMT

India - North

ivanci — Sun, 19 Sep 2010 15:22:00 GMT

Amritsar has mainly two attractions to offer: Golden Temple and Indian-Pakistan border ceremony, two totally incomparable events. Being the holiest Sikh’s shrine in India, Golden Temple is truly majestic and beautiful. Time flies fast here and we easily spend couple of hours walking around large square pool with its golden gem in the middle. Large crowds slowly move in clock-wise direction, many devotees take a dip in holy water and we quietly watch with respect. Another scorching hot day and by noon we desperately need to cool down … crazy packed shuttle bus is no relief and by early afternoon we are happy be back in our A/C hotel room. One not-so cold beer from shop below and quick snack should refill our energy (did not really do much!). The rest of day we are going to spend at border crossing. It is hard to describe next few hours … allowed only camera (without cover) and water bottle through security checks, thousands of Indian tourists and few foreigners fill multi-level concrete viewing platforms around 5pm … waiting and sweating in hot afternoon sun is not funny. Boiling hot concrete makes it impossible to sit down, there is absolutely no breeze and more and more people keep coming. Crazy place!!! Finally the masquerade begins … short slogans barked to PA system heat the crowd mad, and crowd shouts back with (probably) pro-indian nationalistic slogans. Then small military squads march from both sides to meet at the gate where they lower flags … jerky march is quite funny with legs kicking so high it looks dangerous, almost dislocating them from hips. By the end of show our shirts are literally dripping with sweat; this must have been the hottest day ever in my life.

On Sunday morning we walk 300m to train station … next destination will be Jammu if travel package created in Delhi actually works. Well, the train arrives and that is good start. We’ve even got promised seats … and there are two guys waiting for us at Jammu’s station … as promised. So far so good. Jammu leaves neutral impressions, nothing too special but nothing too bad ... just another temple and lots of shops selling pashmina in good price range so Iva buys one for cold oz nights. While having dinner we make unexpected encounter with bunch of happy young guys … obviously amused by our presence they circle around our table for few minutes before they ask: “Where are you from?”, and “How long in India?”. When we answer the ice suddenly brakes and they became very open and friendly … buying drinks (later even more drinks), taking pictures together (later even more pictures) and eventually we had to break free from their sweet (but sticky) attention. From time to time we still get message on Facebook “Wer ar u ser?”. Mid-day flight from Jammu to Srinagar is a little bit scary as plane rattles dodging 5000m peaks; our first preview of Himalayas is very impressive! In both Jammu and Srinagar airports we notice heavy police & military presence … picked-up from the airport (ok, maybe that guy in Delhi was actually proper travel agent and did not just take our money), we learn about curfew imposed by Indian government in Kashmir. Taken directly to Safina houseboat we enjoy cold beer on deck waiting for our boat to start moving … to our surprise all houseboats are fixed and actually never move; the only small shikaras provide transport. Ha, ha ... learning something every day. Boat-owner’s son tries to persuade us to spend 42,000 rupees (~1000 AUD) for a 5 day hike around Gangabal Lakes but we can smell a fish, very rotten fish. Our concerns are confirmed later in the day when helpful manager at Swiss hotel indicates that such trip could be done for less then 20,000 including everything. We move out of Safina and start to organize hike on our own. Deal offered by young guide Feroz sounds fair and on Saturday 3 July we leave Srinagar in a squeaky taxi to Naranag where we join two horsemen and three horses. Food and camping gear is loaded and within few hours we are off to Kasmirian valleys and mountains. Endless green meadows decorated with pine trees, sheep and cows, all lined with snow covered giants at distance remind pictures of Swiss Alps on Milka chocolate. Air gets fresher and crisper as we gain more altitude hour by hour, day by day … the third day we reach our final camp site at Small Gangabal Lake. Fog and low cloud obscure mama nature and few hours of rain finished our day... hot Kashmir chai helped to regain some comfort. Sleeping at 3700m does not pose any problems, by now we are well acclimatised and extra few blankets kept us warm for the whole night. Unzipping tent next morning was plainly unbelievable – under spotlessly blue sky we can see mighty 6200m Hary Mok rising right in front of our tent, tossing its reflection in motionless crystalic turquoise water of Gangabal Lake. Insane scenery! We are going to camp here for one more night - after breakfast our mission is Large Gangabal Lake … walk and scramble around its perimeter. Seemingly easy and short tour takes almost seven hours with many challenging stream crossings on the way; the hardest is lake’s out-flowing river with strong current and freezing water which we need to dare with bare feet. Brrr! Pins and needles can be felt for some time. Back at camp site we hear nice news … horsemen did some serious fishing and tonight we'll have fresh trout for dinner! Deep fried pieces were delicious and we gave Feroz many compliments for his cooking skills. Day 5 arrives and before 9am our contingent starts to move back to Naranag. Taking alternative shortcut proved to be difficult both for horses and us too as loose steep hills were very slippery … we are happy to see river at bottom of the Naranag River valley in late afternoon. We are staying for 2 more days in Srinagar to chill out before our next move and we accept Feroze’s offer to stay on his houseboat. Curfew has been imposed for more then three weeks now, streets are still deserted, all shops are closed and not even buses leave the town. With three other tourists we find a private 4WD heading for Kargil and on Thursday 8^th July we leave quiet and depressed Srinagar for good. Initially monotonous road takes sudden dramatic change shortly after Sonamarg village where Kashmir Valley ends and Ladakh range starts with nail biting scenery, ascending through windy and crumbly road to Zoji La pass at 3529m. Hundreds of trucks tend to choke this narrow road every day … our driver is little overzealous to show his skills by overtaking endless line of trucks, and getting uncomfortably close to 200m vertical drop. Several times we ask him to stop this senseless madness despite his assurances of this morning prayers to Allah. After explaining that his gods do not necessarily converse with our goods he eventually stopped and we arrived to Kargil tired but well and alive just before midnight. We swear not to use private jeeps again … other travellers talking highly about Indian bus drivers makes the use of public buses number one choice for future. J&KTDC bungalow rooms ($5/night) are simple, clean and comfy although we lost half of doughnut to a resident mouse overnight … hmm. Not finding Kargil anyhow interesting (also no meat & no booz on Fridays) we book two seats with J&KTDC bus for 85km trip to Parkachik, one third of 240km distance to Padum. Bus is fully loaded with locals, timber planks, bags of veggies, tires and lots of other stuff - inside and on roof too. Scheduled few hours journey took seven hours and with our bums well tenderised we get offloaded at 6pm somewhere in Suru valley. Small sign on roadside points to J&KTDC bungalows so we are not lost after all, and after about 300m gentle uphill walk we can see few young vintage buildings… “Hello, is anyone here?” we call loud, call again, louder, and again … hey, is there anyone here?! ... Yes, someone opens the door. Room is clean, comfy and cheap. Hot masala chai and rice with dal come in nicely. We feel chill drifting down from nearby 7000m giants Nun and Kun as soon as sun goes down. It’s going to be very cold night but with extra 1-2 woollen blankets we should be ok. Crispy morning is bright and sunny, majestic Nun rises above our bungalows while shy Kun is hiding somewhere behind. Told by housekeeper that we can see her from Parkachi La, a pass 300m above the village, there is only one way up, following sheep trail. From bottom of valley the path looks easy, I guess in less then an hour we must be done. Views from Parkachi La (4100m) are simply breathtaking. Serene Nun and Kun rise above the sea of peaks like two guardians, and peaceful Himalayas extend as far as we can see. It is very, very quiet up-here … slow three hours slavery was well worth the effort. Mountains cheat our senses, something what looks easy often turns out to be very difficult, and there is much less of oxygen to burn too. Absolutely alone we enjoy this paradise for about an hour before going back down … suddenly we are overtaken by a villager who seems to have no problems negotiating this difficult terrain and in almost no time he made it down – unbelievable! Tired but happy we sleep one more night in Parkachi and tomorrow we’ll continue to Padum … how? Well, apparently there are no buses between here and Padum but there are many trucks so hitch-hiking seems to be an answer. After breakfast we must walk 2km out of town, then we sit and wait… and wait … and wait longer with not even sound of truck… nothing just mountains, river and us. Then we hear familiar sound of diesel engine and guess what … bus with the same driver from two-days ago is coming! We smile at him, he stops and in minutes we are on the road again having 160km of rough bumpy fun ahead. Why did this bus come when we were told by tourist officers that absolutely no buses continue to Padum? Well, lesson we learned: “Never trust a single answer”, from which a new rule is created: ”Ask five independent people the same question and only if you get five identical answers, it might be true”. Never mind, important is we sit in half-empty-not-so-comfortable bus ‘flying’ south. Spectacular Pensi La pass (4400m) divides Suru and Zanskar valleys in very dramatic way and our driver stops for few minutes for pictures be taken … speechless we watch artwork of mother nature and only beeping horn brings everyone back to reality. Steep descend from Pensi La holds another surprise in shape of massive Drang Drung glacier, and our driver stops again … photos, horn beeping, let’s go guys, we still have long way to go! Short break at Rungdum is the last stop before arrival to Padum at 9pm. What a day!!! Apart from its picturesque position small and isolated town of Padum (3500m) itself is not very exciting … with exception of Zanskar’s largest Buddhist monastery Karsha Gompa nearby. Perhaps Padum is useful stop-over place for hikers on trek Lamayuru <–-> Darcha, on which we are not (but quite frankly would love to be!). Four days in Padum is more then enough but having only few buses each week, the earliest we can leave is Saturday, and we can choose only from last four tickets available – all in back row. The 240km of unsealed road back to Kargil is no surprise to us; we’ve done it before … but wait … this time we’ll do it in one hit! No bed at Parkachik. We leave Padum at 3am, very soon we come up with new rule: “Never again we’ll take back seats when travelling on unsealed road”. A cyclist helmet would be handy as I hit roof every time bus jumps over a ditch. Using my hands as suspended shock absorbers I have some success to prevent further head injuries … this time bus is full and we can not swap seats. “Hmm, small punishment for nice scenery. If it was perfect I could go insane … “, I am thinking. Suddenly the bus stops in middle of nowhere. Out of window we see the reason … small creek only few days ago has grown into a monster claiming small portion of road. One jeep is stuck right in strong current, spinning its wheels on full throttle but not moving an inch. Warm weather in last few days caused snow to melt faster then usual and many innocent water streams cause havoc to drivers. Few by-standers try to help but can not stand long enough in water near freezing point. Finally someone brings out an old reinforcing wire from broken bridge nearby and with help of other car the submerged jeep is pulled out of raging river … I can’t believe what I see next – a small Suzuki tries to cross this wild water where 4WD jeep just got stuck! Ha,ha … what do you think will happen? Yes, you are right! He is not only stuck on boulders but strong current now moves that small car dangerously close to the edge of road where water falls 3-4m down. I wonder if that was an act of courage or stupidity. Anyway, with help of many guys and the same reinforcing wire they managed to pull him out too. He was lucky this time. Our bus driver looks confident and does not seem to worry a bit … indeed he crossed the monster without a hitch. With no more excitement we arrived to Kargil just before 8pm. Stuck in Kargil for two nights we buy first available front bus seats to Leh. Another 240km of very scenic ride is not so bumpy though still very intimidating, especially around Lamayuru. Now we are truly in Ladakh … landscape resembles dry desert and only distant white peaks remind presence of the highest mountains in the world. Leh is packed with tourists and hotel references we were given turn out to be fruitless – all rooms are full and we need to settle for slightly more expensive hotel at town centre. Main language we hear on streets is French, followed closely by German and Czech (!) … I can not resist to approach a bunch of four Czech speaking ladies … and few days later we leave together (Marcela, Irena, Eva, Olga) for eight day hike to Markha Valley with guide (Kumar) and horses (do not know names). Weather is great, excitement high and energy plentiful – all ingredients we’ll need for 100km loop with two high passes on the way. Starting at Spitu (3500m) the first day we take it easy just following Indus River valley but the second day we have some hard work to do and by 4pm we reach camp site only 400m below Ganda La pass (4970m). It is quite fresh up here; sunset creates splendid shades and colours of range across the valley are fantastic. Dazzling! Day three starts at 6am with another delicious breakfast (Kumar is great cook) and soon we start slow and exhausting climb to Ganda La. Views from the pass with two valleys in opposite directions – one we leave, the other we’ll enter - are very rewarding. “Ok guys, enough of indulging ... we have 15km still to go”, Kumar smiles. “Celo, cello”, he continues in Hindu and we start 1000m descend. Very exhausted we make it to river-side camp just after 5pm and it does not take much effort to convince girls to join us for cold beer while Kumar prepares tasty dinner. Quick wash in river and good night … you can dream about tomorrow. Day five covers about 15km relatively flat terrain, mainly following Markha River with several bare foot crossings. Brrrr! Today’s walk brought many dramatic landscape changes and the camp site by raging river is absolutely beautiful. By now we have reached altitude well above 4000m getting ready and closer to the second pass Gongmaru La (5130m). Day six is little easier with only three hours walk to campsite Namaling (4700m) – never before we have slept in such an altitude and understandably we are quite anxious what this night will be like. Steady drizzle throughout whole day and grey sky makes the day bit gloomy but lots of hot tea and resting inside tent seems to be nice compensation. We celebrate Olga’s birthday with a sip of rum (not good idea to drink too much at these heights) and Kumar made her a cake! What a champion! The night was very cold though breathing was ok, and wake up call at 5am is not pleasant … but nutritious breakfast is ready and our commander-in-charge Kumar makes sure we start walking before 6am. Needles to say that last 400m of elevation from camp to pass were real test of our endurance; unfortunately this time no views from the top but lots of cold wind and fog instead. Without any reason to stay much longer, very proud of ourselves we start 1400m descend with many kilometres to cover before we reach last camp site at Shang Sundo. Kumar bakes farewell cake (how could he bake on LPG stove?), we all talk about past seven days of adventure and fun – we were really good team, including Kumar and two horsemen. Back in Leh we spend together few more days before we say goodbye – girls fly back home and we bought bus tickets (front seats!) to yet another adventurous road Leh-Manali. We’ll definitely see girls again in future. Early morning Tuesday 3^rd August we leave Leh on bus for two-day 480km journey to Manali with projected overnight sleep at Keylong. We had no idea what was going to follow … Crossing the second highest motor-able pass in the world Taglang La (5328m) is pretty cool and the scenery is again very nail biting. Regardless of many trucks rolled down in gorges and deep valleys (I counted 9! ... trucks, not valleys!) we feel surprisingly calm having full confidence in skills of our bus driver. Leh-Manali road has reputation of the second world’s most dangerous road whereas the winner is in Bolivia near La Paz (road to Coroico). Several years ago the Bolivian road was closed for general transport which makes Leh-Manali number 1! Well, it truly deserves it! Back to our journey … It is sunny and warm day and by mid afternoon we cross Barlacha La, there is lot of snow everywhere and melting fast. Road on the other side of pass becomes very muddy and slippery; soon we see large convoy of trucks standing in line and not moving. Our bus overtakes them all and then stops. Wow! How we can cross this angry monster! Impossible even for large trucks or buses. Furious river has washed away large part of road and without any heavy machinery to fix it, no one can get to the other side. Why authorities do not build bridges over streams is beyond our comprehension, this must happen year after year and this is the main supply road to Leh! Well, decision comes soon … tonight we’ll sleep here in bus and tomorrow … god knows. Not comfortable at all, but somehow sunrise did not take infinite time to come and next morning a backhoe tractor attempts to move large boulders to partially restore the road. Despite overnight drizzly rain water subsided due to cooler temps with snow melting much slower. Somewhat clumsy operator tries his best but our bus driver gets progressively restless … he wants to go! “Everyone on bus”, he shouts and with full throttle we are the first vehicle to cross. Our hearts have sunk deep and everyone on bus is very still. Heavy silence is replaced with cheering and clapping after we safely make it to the other side. Yuppie! Hurray! Relieved we come to Darcha where we eat first time in 24 hours, then continue through even more dramatic Rohtang La pass to Manali. Next morning we learn about disaster which struck Leh last night – heavy rain caused monstrous flash floods, washing one part of town away and filling the other with mud. Newspapers claim up to 200 people died and town has been cut off – communication towers collapsed, airport flooded and roads to Kargil or Manali now closed. We were miraculously lucky to leave Leh on the last bus. Manali (2600m) is pleasant small town with hippie overtone, marijuana being the most abundant plant everywhere we look. Surrounded with forested hills and silver lined with lively but not out of control Beas River we understand its popularity amongst travellers. Easily we spend few days here, strolling around markets or sipping coffee on river’s bank. Fog is never too far away but daily temps would be easily in pleasant high twenties. Round daily trip to Parvati Valley is exciting only to the point where fog permanently turns into rain, hmm monsoon at its full extent, and from now the sun will be rare as saffron. We leave Manali on yet another toy train (how many different trains we’ve been on!) with stop at Ambala from where we catch direct train to Agra. Everyone knows Taj Mahal; we have seen many pictures in travel magazines … and now it stands in front of our eyes in its full splendid beauty. Reality is even more impressive, this architectonic gem is definitely worth visiting though Agra town itself is not anyhow attractive. Gates open just before 6am and we feel privileged to admire its glory at sunrise and soak up its tranquil atmosphere. We can see Taj Mahal from almost every roof top restaurant, having breakfast, dinner or just cold beer in this hot and humid weather. Few days of Agra is enough, on Tuesday we catch overnight train to Kajuraho … what is in Kajuraho? Kama Sutra temples! Many well preserved and beautiful temples … with many naughty erotic sculptures carved in sandstone. With hired old bikes it still takes many hours to visit three main temple groups and by mid afternoon we finish on our beds in AC hotel room … this tropical humid weather is killing us. We quite like laid back Kajuraho with few nice restaurants and hotels … very happy in Casa Di William guesthouse. Our next destination is famous Varanasi. Ooo…Haaa! Full on! It is a bit too much of India condensed to such a small space … on way from train station we are stuck in heavy traffic filling our lungs with thick fumes, our ears are deafened with honking and our eyes try to scan this crazy place … after four months travelling in India we are overwhelmed. At least we manage to get reasonably priced AC room at Laxmi guesthouse to escape extreme humidity; only few hundred meters from main Dasaswamedh Ghat it is in convenient location… or inconvenient as we discovered later. This weekend is Shiva Lord festival and live bands tent was erected below our windows … pretty loud musical night changed to pretty loud prayers at about 4am. After almost sleepless night we explore few other ghats with aim to find the one with public cremations taking place 24/7. Wrapped in cloth, dead bodies on bamboo stretchers are firstly dipped in holy Ganges, then placed on a big pile of firewood and set alight. Amount of wood is weighted by outcast doms according to size of body so it can burn completely. We watch at least ten fires going simultaneously - seeing limbs and heads licked by flames is quite disturbing picture and thick smoke with ashes in air does not make this river side crematorium a preferred picnic spot. Bodies seem to be cremated completely leaving no signs of skeletons to our surprise, remaining ashes seem to washed off to Ganges with rain. Huge numbers of Indian tourists and pilgrims come here to wash away their sins in Ganges River taking multiple dips in murky brown water with E.Coli bacteria count apparently at 1,500,000 (Recreational water limit = 500). Regardless of almost obsessively frequent hand washing, on the second day we both get severe intestinal pain with diarrhoea. Not very well we leave Varanasi (from Mughal Serai station) by overnight train to Darjeeling, and not without small drama … as many times before also today we have train tickets issued in ‘Waiting List’ status, hopping that just before departure the ‘Waiting List’ status would turn into real seats …. Oops! Not this time! Effectively we enter train without valid tickets after an assurance from conductor “I’ll see you later to fix this”… for $12 fine it turned out ok after all. Darjeeling is foggy and rainy. Strongly resembling Shimla we suddenly know this trip is a waste of time but change from hot and humid plains to cooler hills is somewhat comforting. With conveniently free wi-fi at hotel Dekeling we catch up with internet work, or we kill time at local cinema screening the latest Hollywood fantas-magor The Inception with Leonardo Di Caprio. Having only few days left of Indian visa we board last train to Kolkata where, being scarred of on-internet reported incidence of bed bugs throughout Kolkata, we’ve pre-booked *** hotel Bodhi Tree. Expensive, but bed bugs free and with probably the softest bed in whole India! Small symbolic farewell with India came from Tom Parker National Geographic TV show crew in streets of Kolkata … Tom was making a documentary about rickshaw pullers and we gladly participated in one hour shooting … hmm, we are now TV stars!

Observations:

Indian man …

… is proud to be an Indian

… is never wrong and knows all answers. Even if he does not, he’ll make it up in such convincing way that we have no doubts he is right – big mistake!

… is very confident. About everything. Never takes any advice.

… hates to be proven wrong. Never do that!

… can urinate wherever he wants. Even few meters from rail track directly facing passengers

… is funny and likes joking. Nothing is a problem. Everything is possible in India. I agree.

… hibernate the most of year. Mostly in horizontal (rickshaw or taxi) or sitting (watching TV) position

… does not know concept of ‘respect’

… is chauvinistic and thinks only about sex and money

What we liked:

… hot colors, especially in the south and Rajastan

… delicious food, Goa had the best

… warm and friendly people, maybe sometimes getting bit too close for our comfort but never dangerous. Never felt any threat.

… beautiful and diverse temples with rich cultural inheritance (Hampi, Ellora and Ajanta, Kajuraho, Taj Mahal etc.)

… awesome landscape at Himalayan ranges

… good variety of accommodation at budget level

… well working train booking system. We used www.cleartrip.com

What we did not like:

… gross human pollution everywhere. In some places it looks like one large public toilet. You can see it, you can smell it.

… endless crowds of people were sometimes intimidating

… constant honking without any apparent reasons with subtle message “Get out of my way!”

… fast and furious driving. No respect for others.

… pushing forward, jumping queues, people are strong opportunists

… males' dominance in public

Photos: India - Central West

ivanci — Thu, 5 Aug 2010 20:52:00 GMT

India - Central West

ivanci — Mon, 2 Aug 2010 18:18:00 GMT

Morning at Mumbai train station is pretty chaotic, people are everywhere, some sit, many sleep on floor... we can not say who is waiting for train and who permanently lives here. It was very hot night and the only relieve came from couple of fans at ceiling of each 6-birth compartment. Today we do not have to search for a place to stay, black old taxi takes us directly to Consulate of Czech Republic - we had been invited to stay here by young Czech consular family we met at Sri Lanka. After a refreshing shower and short rest our plans quickly change when we meet Honza who offers his invitation to stay at his unit in Aurangabad, which is starting town for trips to Ellora Caves and Ajanta temples. Of course we cannot refuse such an offer and we rush to book first possible flight. In meantime, Zdenek is very kind to spend his weekend with us - we visit Jain Temple, Gate to India, in-famous Taj Mahal Hotel and Elephant Island. We feel being treated like V.I.P.- very nice change from usual backpacker’s mode. One hour flight from Mumbai to Aurangabad on Monday morning is hassle free and Raju (Honza’s personal driver) waits at the airport with Skoda Octavia, taking us to housing complex adjacent to Skoda manufacturing plant… “This will be your home for next few days” Honza points to spare bedroom upstairs and continues “…and Raju will be happy to drive you to cave temples or anywhere else you want”. We can not believe our luck to meet such nice people lately. Quick coffee and our ways temporarily split for rest of the day – Honza goes to work at Skoda plant and we spend an hour in comfortable back seats of new model Octavia heading to Ellora cave temples. This jaw dropping site was chipped out of gently sloped hills by Buddhist, Hindu and Jain monks over 500 years, the first temple was created at AD 600. Seeing total of 34 temples spread over 2km takes some effort and time, it is quite hot day and after three hours we are pretty tired but it is not the end of it …on return way to Aurangabad we have one more site to visit - Daulatabad Fort built in 12^th century on 200m high outcrop claims the rest of energy still left in our bodies. Mid afternoon sun is very intense, there is little shade on the way up and dry air has strong dehydrating power – luckily we have enough water to get up and down. This fort was built to be impenetrable but ironically it was conquered only once by bribing guards at the gate. Hundreds of difficult steps, dark tunnels and narrow bridges over water canals lead us through multiple doorways, some of them faked. Finally we make to the top where we find 6m cannon, apparently cast from 5 different metals. “How did they get such heavy piece of steel up here?” I am asking myself. Few minutes we enjoy nice views into valley and by 4pm we are back in car heading home. After dinner at the housing complex restaurant we are really ready for bed. Next day we take it easy - play indoor tennis, or chill out at resort-style pool … this fenced complex is nothing like India we have seen so far. Later afternoon Raju is free to take us to town where we also visit local mini-Taj Mahal. Leaving right after breakfast on Wednesday we have to cover 120km to the World Heritage site of Ajanta Buddhist caves. Much older then Ellora these secluded cave temples date from 2^nd century BC to 6^th century AD. Carved into shear rock of horse-shoe shaped valley the 30 caves are just breath taking. Well preserved fine internal frescoes were painted with natural pigments and we fully respect the ban of flash photography. This site had been grown over with vegetation for centuries until 1819 when it was accidentally discovered by British hunting party. Truly impressive site. Last dinner with Honza at local posh restaurant marks the end of our unexpected four days vacation within our travel, and tomorrow we fly back to Mumbay. From airport back to Consulate for one more night before we board overnight 3-AC sleeper to Udaipur on Friday 4^th June 4pm. Confused with train booking system we somehow manage to score two beds tonight… but let me explain … on-line booking system placed our names on ‘waiting list’ which means that we may or may not get a berth on this train. When we arrived to station the list of passengers attached to our carriage shows two names allocated to the same bed … ?? Does that mean we’ll have to share our (single and narrow) beds with some strangers? The conductor answers our question with “No problem, you’ll get your own bed”. Train left station at 4pm and by 11pm the situation is still unresolved – young Indian girl sits on ‘my’ bed and Ivana’s co-sleeper has not boarded yet. Well, she is not bad looking…ha,ha. Why is this happening to us? Everyone else on train is already sleeping, and we have to sit for the whole 18-hours journey for the same price? Not happy!!! Suddenly the conductor marched in with a resolution … Indian girl is going to move somewhere else and we finally can rest, each on our own bed. Arrival to Udaipur at 9am is pleasant, train station is surprisingly tidy, unbearable Mumbai humidity is gone and there is hassle free pre-paid rickshaw stand outside. Heading to the centre of Old Town we hope to find Nivas hotel previously recommended by other backpacker… and it was easy. We like four days in Udaipur – scrolling through maize of streets we discover many roof-top restaurants with not only picturesque views but also with very good Indian food. The most romantic city, as it is sometimes called is dominated by copula crowned City Palace being the highest point in Udaipur. One cannot miss it. Built in 17^th century this yellow stone Rajastan’s largest palace looks impressive especially when lit at night. Few hours visit was very enjoyable and worthwhile. Unfortunately the lake Pichola is almost dried up due to number of reasons (unusually low rain over last few years plus alleged mismanagement of water usage) and scenes from James Bond’s Octopusy movie filmed here look somewhat different. It is very easy to loose sense of time here and days go by very fast … but we want to see more of Rajastan so on Wednesday 9^th June we catch overnight 2-AC sleeper to Rajastan’s capital Jaipur. It takes few steps before we settle in Vaishnavi hotel early morning and over breakfast we set for an idea to take sightseeing bus tour tomorrow which should cover all major temples and forts in and around the town. Straightforward booking at Tourist Office within the railway station is done in minutes and we can spend rest of the day by scrolling through historical Pink City for what Jaipur is famous. Hot, busy, pink buildings and colourful turbans are words to describe next three hours. Later afternoon (temps still well above 40C) we catch local bus to Monkey Temple – appropriate name as hundreds of pink face monkeys company everyone walking steep path up and down the temple. At first glance they look pretty harmless but our safe personal space can quickly be violated in presence of food … Iva loses her bag of peanuts in seconds to a larger male before having any chance to open it and share nuts between youngsters. When the larger group leader attempts to push me off the garden bench we conclude it’s time to leave. Next morning we board the sightseeing bus for the whole day to see many palaces, forts, museums and gardens. Very exhausting but also very interesting. So exhausting we have to take rickshaw to backpacker Peacock roof top restaurant for dinner and it feels like an oasis – great food and few beers to wash down that plentiful pink dust. Enough of pink so on Saturday we take a 4-hour bus to Hindu’s pilgrimage town Pushkar. Nice and clean room at hotel Everest is definitely good choice and its owner is very helpful, shortly we start exploring this small holy town to find many temples, small shops (we bought some traditional garments), ghats around the central lake (now dry), pilgrims and tourists. For over an hour we sit on one of ghats (steps leading to pools filled with ‘holy’ water) quietly watching pilgrims to bath and pray … to our surprise men and women are mixed up despite our previous observation of strict segregation. Some dip dressed, some dip half naked but all pour water over their heads several times. Few foreign tourist are lured into ‘meditation over holy water’ only to be asked for hefty baksheesh at the end of each session. Hmm, sad this happens… but fortunately now-days we can clearly see through this bul...it and we only observe from a distance. Just like Hampi also this holy town is strictly vegetarian and no booze is available … good bye beer for few days (remember? It is 40C+ every day). Without any options we settle for fresh lime and soda which is almost as good as cold beer … NOT! There are no motor rickshaw allowed in town but sightseeing can be easily done by foot in one day – one of few Brahma’s temples in India can be seen here although we find white marble Sikh temple more beautiful (not mentioned in any info pamphlets , not even shown on tourist map because Pushkar is holy Hindu town). As many times before 2-3 days is enough for any small town and we wonder what blue city of Jodhpur will be like. Dominated by captivating Mehrangarh Fort this million people town offers narrow streets and medieval bazaars in old city around the central clock tower mingled with business and rush of its population. Fresh saffron flavoured Makhania lassie and famous omelettes shop are other attractions not to be missed apart from necessary visit to Mehrangarh Fort. Over few hours walking through this magnificent palace with audio guide we admire spectacular architectonic marvel built in 18^th century by maharajah Man Singh as well as collections of Indian royalties on display. From its walls we suddenly understand why Jodhpur is nicknamed blue city – views down on town reveal light-milky blue colour being traditionally used on almost all houses. Back down at town the search for an eatery is difficult as many places are closed due to low season but anyway we find one new garden-like restaurant with its friendly owner and beer secretly served in coffee mugs. Vegetarian food is tasty, setting is cool and long discussions with owner are possible on any topic such as arranged marriages, cast system and family life in India … we learn that usually … married sons continue to live with parents and all earned income goes directly to farther, he then allocates pocket money and decides how joint money is spent. Marriages between different casts are strictly impossible and love marriages are very rare. Indeed, daily newspapers report many so called ‘honour killings’ when family and relatives brutally murder their children if youngsters ‘in love’ leave the house against the will of parents. Sad, perhaps tragic but we need to stay observers only, not critics of Indian social structure and we happily return to this restaurant again and again until we leave Jodhpur. That happens on Thursday 17^th June whereas our last destination in Rajastan will be desert town Jaisalmer, less then 100km from western border with Pakistan. How can five and half hours on bus going towards desert feel like? Hot-dry-hot-dusty. It is only few days till arrival of monsoon and we could not pick the worse time to be here but we did not really have any other choice if we want to see it. Besides, we are tough backpackers and even 45C can not break our spirit. Ha,ha, we took a room with air-con. Well, that is good for sleep only anyway and it is no help outside. We follow advice of young guy from Jodhpur to stay in his cousin’s Pol Haveli guest-house (seems like all here are cousins) and that includes free pick-up from the bus stand. Not sure if this was a scam or not, the truth is we were not disappointed and everything happened as promised. Brand new Pol Haveli GH built in traditional Rajastan style with lots of sandstone carved features looked more like maharajah’s residence then any ordinary hotel.

Jaisalmer may be rightfully nicknamed ‘golden town’ for its desert-yellow colour of sandstone used in 100% of all havelis (buildings) including Jaisalmer Fort on 80m high hill built in 12^th century and where large proportion of population resides today. One can see only so many palaces and this time we give The Maharaja’s Palace a miss, instead we get lost several times in maize of narrow streets paved with sandstone. What else brings travellers here? Camel safari in desert where people can spend anything between 1 day, or weeks. We decide for the former and leave the town at mid-afternoon by jeep, first to visit Jain temple thinking this must be the most beautiful Jain temple we have seen in India, and then continuing to small community of camel drivers. Me and Iva get own camels to ride for about two hours towards Sahara like dunes just in time for sunset. Watching hot golden sun going down over desert is priceless, round dunes cast longer and longer shades until sun completely disappear behind horizon. Camel drivers prepared traditional dinner, made our beds by throwing few thick blankets on hot sand and the rest was upon us as to how long we want to watch bright stars on deep sky … until we fell asleep. Despite our expectations air temperature did not drop much during the night, 6am sunrise seemed even more colourful then last night sunset. Yesterday perfectly sand smoothed by wind is covered with numerous trails this morning and we can only imagine with how many different small creatures we shared last night together. By 10am we are back in Jasailmere to have shower, small lunch … then leaving Rajastan on 4pm train for Delhi. First time in India this overnight 2AC class was very comfy and less crowded. We are impressed with expected arrival time at 11am being almost spot-on, but views of Delhi outskirts are much less impressive with unbelievably dense populated slums stretching kilometres alongside railway line where people live in inhuman conditions, we cannot imagine staying there even for one day. Stepping out of air-conditioned train into hot and smelly Old Delhi station is initially uncomfortable but we quickly adjust and take pre-paid rickshaw to hotel Ginger near New Delhi station … to our disappointment the hotel is full and with bags on our shoulders we search for an alternative accommodation. Not being very successful, in desperation we accept an offer from ‘Government Tourist Office’ (???) to stay 3 nights at Hotel Baba-Karol Bagh for total 4000 rupees, including free transfer. Delhi seems to be more expensive then the rest of India and retrospectively we were not ripped off that much, considering our room has reasonably working AC. Pre-monsoon weather is hot, dry and windy. Furthermore, Delhi’s streets are turned upside down with trenches and holes dug up everywhere due to coming Commonwealth Games in October, not exactly the most romantic place right now. One day city bus tour is nice break from dusty streets; amongst many we visit Lotus Temple, Indira Gandhi house, Mahatma Gandhi memorial and Birla Mandir Temple. Our hotel at Karol Bagh has few distinctive positives – a proximity to metro station and few great restaurants nearby, we agree on very tasty Indian food served in Jade Garden and Spicy By Nature restaurants. Despite numerous warning at Lonely Planet we get sucked into a package featuring houseboat stay at Srinagar. For 16000 rupees we get 2AC train Amritsar-Jammu, one night at Jammu, airfare Jammu-Srinagar and two nights on Safina houseboats at Srinagar, including breakfast and dinner. Enough of Delhi we leave by 8am AC sitting train on 25 June heading for Amritsar at Punjab.

Observation:

Indian man seems to have more fun on social front then women. We are not sure where this custom originates from but evidence is obvious everywhere we look. Going for a cold beer after 40C hot day would mean Iva is the only female in bar, and there could be up to hundred of Indian men happily enjoying beer, wine or brandy. “Where are their wives or girlfriends?” we ask ourselves. We do not know…

To be continued ….

Photos: India - South

ivanci — Wed, 16 Jun 2010 17:24:00 GMT

India - South

ivanci — Wed, 16 Jun 2010 17:12:00 GMT

Today is Sunday, 25 April, 2010 and that means two things - we move from Sri Lanka to India, but the most important is birth of my second grandson Elliot in Australia. Hurray!! Another backpacker is born. Chennai, the 7 million capital of Tamil Nadu is just another big busy city and with all its noise, smell and chaos it is not a place we would like to stay any longer then necessary. Catching a local bus from airport to city is challenge of its own, even locals can’t agree on spot where we should wave at bus driver … getting first lessons about India. Nothing is static, everything constantly changes and we’d better get used to it quickly. Once on bus we notice all women sitting on the left while all men take seats on right hand side of the bus. Hmm, hope foreigners are excused from all those local specialties. Any attempts to sit next to an Indian lady would result in her standing up rather then sharing the same seat with me. Arriving to pre-booked hotel Aspni Inn we are somewhat disappointed, the reality does not match presentation on Hostel World and for $35/night this small shabby room is not one of the best deals. Anyway, location is not so bad, and as we discover next day, finding an alternative would be very difficult. Large cities seem to offer much less for money, Colombo in Sri Lanka was similar. Tomorrow we’d like to visit Marina Beach, a favored sandy stretch for locals… we wonder how do locals bath? Wow! Females of all ages get their saris dripping wet while boys strip down to underwear before jumping to water. They are having great fun, we can not resist to stay and watch taking many snapshots … with some targets being shy, others posing for my camera. Strolling through T Nagar markets fills the rest of afternoon; Iva buys a pair of small gold earrings. Almost every woman is dressed in brightly colored silk sari, fluttering lightly in breeze making local female population very elegant. Gentle scent of white fresh jasmine flowers woven into their long black hair makes them truly feminine. Men are dressed in much simpler style, the most would wear light colored shirt, always clean and pressed, with long pants or traditional lungies.

First 24 hours in India have gone and one thing is certain … over one billion population is very visible on every street, sometimes it feels almost claustrophobic. On Tuesday morning we leave Chennai by local bus, only half full so at least we can sit for next two hours on the way south to coastal village Mamallapuram. Wind air-condition (WAC) works well only when bus moves, luckily many windows can not be closed and I cool my head with wet bandana to cope with >40C heat. Instantly relaxed, Mamallapuram’s slow pace has positive effect and over next few days we wind down from hectic Chennai. Simple and clean room at Sri Harul GH with beech front private balcony is a perfect spot just for that. Roof top Good Luck Café has become our dining - living room where discussions with Diva (local owner) and Jack (French borne semi-local) helped us to understand few aspects of life in India. Arranged marriages was one of quite interesting topics, we can not believe Diva’s claim that up to 80% of couples are selected by parents where new weds do not know each other until the wedding day. Apart from sitting and talking we also explore local ruins and temples, occasionally dip into Bengal Sea waters and taste Indian cuisine available in many places across the town. Four days here passed quickly and on Saturday morning we catch a 2-hour bus to Poducherry, known for its French orientation. We did not expect Poducherry be chocked with Chennai residents coming here every weekend for shopping, French cuisine and tax free alcohol. Consequently all hotels were booked out and two hours search for decent accommodation proved to be almost fruitless. Finally we settle for one small dark room in a French owned home-stay, hoping to move tomorrow to Park GH with sea front rooms at $15/night. Excellent food at Bamboos Garden restaurant, served amongst palms and tropical plants has so far been the best dining experience in India. As many Chennai weekenders check out on Sunday morning we are lucky to score spotlessly clean sunny room at third floor with sweeping sea views. The Park guest-house strictly run by religious ashram impose few tough rules (no smoking, no alcohol, back home by 10pm, no miniskirts… sounds like mum’s place?) which are easy to respect and cause only negligible inconvenience compared to its perfect presentation. Following Jack’s suggestions the next stop is Thanjavur, a historical in-land town with Brihadishwara temple built in 1010 AD. Inside the temple is a 25 tons statue of Shiva’s bull Nandi carved from single rock - the largest in India. Visiting Royal Palace and Museum consumes the rest of day. More and more we discover nice nature of local people - we receive lots of smiles and “welcome to India” comments. Especially youngsters seem to be amused with our presence and often ask for joint photos to be taken with their mobiles. Shaking hands and frequent questions of type “Where are you from?” and “What is your name?” seem endless but all that makes our travel very relaxed and safe. Next day four hours on WAC bus (you remember?... Wind-Air-Conditioning) to Madurai is hard to cope with – air temp must be well over 40C and bus seats are very narrow. I sit sideways leaving my long legs in isle while Iva is squashed between two not so skinny Indian ladies. For the first time we decide to get a room with proper air-conditioning to avoid complete exhaustion - $35/night is over our daily budget but we need to cool down tonight. Madurai is known for colorful Sri Meenakshi temple and we are truly impressed with hundreds of carvings of gods, goddesses, heroes and demons. Professional guide talks not only about ancient history linked to the temple but also reveals few dark sides of modern life, such as young females being bluntly asked for sex by their bosses in order to secure good job prospect within company. We can’t get rid of feelings that money is much more important then love when it comes to relationships amongst young Indian people. In meantime, subtle smell of jasmine flowers mixed with foul smell of piss on street walls add to complexity of Indian experience…

After another scorching hot day in Madurai we anxiously board a bus to cooler Kumily, small border village between Tamil Nadu and Kerala, located at about 1500m above sea level. Using an old good formula “1C drop per each 100m elevation” we expect dramatic change of daily temps, something like from 45C to 30C, which in South India would be very very comfortable! Kumily did not disappoint in every aspect! Relatively coolish, tons of cheap nice accommodation, great food at Curry Leaf restaurant and scent of fresh spices completes the picture. There is another reason to be here though… nearby Periyar NP allegedly offers abundant wildlife with possibility of tiger sightings. Wow, tigers! Well, remote possibility, I said. Very remote. From over thousand elephants and forty tigers living in NP unfortunately we have seen none … sad, sad. With animals spread out over 770 square kilometers one should not be surprised, especially with lush green vegetation abound. The $50 safari trip including 3-hour jungle hike was not that wasteful after all, black monkeys, large brown squirrels, few bisons and millions of hungry leaches compensate for tigers. Ha,ha, very funny! On way back home we check cardamom plantation – vital ingredient in any masala mix. After having Dosa Masala for breakfast (kind of thin crape stuffed with spiced potatoes) an Ayurvedic massage sounds like perfect ending of Kumily cool vacation and on Tue 11 April we descent again to hot plains of Kerala. Four hours of wild downhill bus ride felt more like motocross race with no winners. As I watch our crazy bus driver trying to regain control of his bus after each curve, my mind drifts away ...

… In India all vehicles drive on left-hand side of road. Well, the most of times. At its gigantic and chaotic complexity the road rules seem to be actually quite simple – larger vehicles have always the right of way over the smaller ones. Always and everywhere! This is the most important rule and consequently the book of Traffic Road Rules could be reduced to a single page. Apart from cows and goats, road users can be placed into one of five categories according to its size – motorcycles, rickshaws, medium sized lorries, trucks and buses:

Motorcyclists are pests and should be eliminated immediately, or as soon as they enter the road. Poor things have no rights whatsoever.
Rickshaw drivers may use the road only if they sway their three-wheelers into gutter as soon as a larger vehicle sounds its horn.
The right of way for small utes and lorries depends on the load they carry, Heavier the better. Lorries loaded with cement or steel would be in much better position then those empty loaded.

We are still not 100% sure whether buses have a definite right of way over large trucks. While in many instances our bus driver showed nerves of steel and forced oncoming truck into unsealed side of the road I would not bet my life on it … but I guess we do not have any choice. Sometimes we just look from side windows only wondering why the bus jerks from right to left ten times a minute. While I find difficult to take my eyes from the windscreen, Iva tries to point my attention to colorfull world outside. …

... Our plan today is to board a public ferry at Kottyam (if we survive this mad downhill race) which suppose to slowly cruise through famous Kerala canals with final stop at Alappuzha. We did survive downhill race and we certainly enjoyed almost four hours of boat ride through seemingly endless network of waterways, fringed with palms and occasional bamboo huts. At Alappuzha we bail out from expensive overnight houseboat trip, the most popular attraction in Kerala … have seen canals from the ferry for a fraction of cost. Not much else to see or do in Alappuzha we leave next day to Fort Kochin, romantic old colonial island with strong Portuguese influence. It is another scorcher, changing buses at mid-day is not funny. My eyes burn as sweat runs all over my face, shirts do not soak any more. Sea breeze does cool because sea water is very warm. Luckily soon we find quiet guesthouse and we can get rid off those heavy backpacks … at this hot weather they seem to gain more weight. For rest of the afternoon we aimlessly wonder through maize of streets in Fort Kochin, suddenly ending at the very tip with many Chinese fishing nets, being here since 1400 AD. Sitting on rocks while sun goes down we watch fisherman moving huge spider-like nets in and out of water every few minutes, using long wooden crane-like structures. “What are we going to have for dinner tonight?” I ask Iva … “Hm, I think we can try some Indian food, ha?” she replies with cheeky spark in her eyes. Ok, Indian again but funny we really like it, even having curry day after day. Visiting Santa Cruz basilica and St Francis church next day concluded our experience with Fort Kochin and on Saturday 15 April we continue our pilgrimage to Mettupalayam. Leaving Fort Kochin at 9am and arriving to Mettupalayam at 7pm this must have been one of the longest travel days with many transfers between including rickshaws, boat and buses. It is another weekend and again local tourists pre-booked all hotels, we have really hard time to find a room with no other choice then to take 2-bedroom executive suite for $30! Pretty expensive but tomorrow we’ll ask to be ‘downgraded’ to a single room. Why did we come to this noisy, annoying and dirty town? Well, since I am psychopathic hunter of all sorts of trains and the Toy Train to Ooty starts here, the answer is clear. All tickets for next few days have been sold out, however station master explained that we can get seats on tomorrow’s train if we come at 5:30am to station and wait in a queue. Very peculiar and hard to understand system. We will see these inexplicable situations again in future when booking more train tickets. Well, we did come at 5:30am to the station. Only few locals were queuing already so we think our chances are pretty high. Two hours later the steam train is docked to our platform and all passengers with pre-booked tickets get seated. The rest of empty seats are filled with people standing in the queue, and we are in! Fully packed train slowly climbs through beautiful hilly landscape, passing many bridges and tunnels, finally reaching Ooty (2240m) fours hours later. Not the most comfortable train, but interesting enough. Dry season is quite apparent with all waterfalls having no single drop of water. Ooty is nice and cool, and with its excessive supply of guesthouses we have no probs to find one we’d like. Preferentially out of noisy centre but not too far from it we settle in Reflections GH. Next few days we enjoy cool climate of this famous hill station, the only negative was my severe stomach upset after having dinner at shabby Kabab Korner. So severe I could not get out of bed for the whole day but luckily recovery came quickly with excessive consumption of home made chocolate found in large varieties in every shop around the town. Few hours visit to local botanical gardens brought yet another lovely experience – we relax sitting on a park bench when two teenage boys asked for a joint photo. As soon as we smiled with an ‘ok’ a large group of people (perhaps few families) appeared out of nowhere and asked for the same. Suddenly with small kids on our laps, grandmas behind and many others around, cameras click from all directions. Quite sweet. Enough of cool and breezy Ooty; it’s time to move on and our next destination is Mysore (700m). Difficult to negotiate warm weather again we walk around the main bus station in search for decent accommodation. After about an hour walking the Guptha Hotel looks reasonable for its money… well, until next morning when we find few nasty bites on our bodies and one blood stain on bed sheet. That is bad news and immediately we suspect presence of bed bugs. Unable to move to another hotel today we need to take serious precautions tonight before going to sleep … but first things first. Booked on a full day city tour next day we leave hotel at 7am – true highlights being fantastic Maharaja’s Palace, Mysore Zoo and Brindavan Water Gardens amongst many other galleries and museums in between. By 9pm the city tour is completed and we head off for nice dinner at Hotel Park Lane to gain real strength in war against bed bugs, waiting in cracks. Two spray cans of Baygon, small bottle of 80% DEET and pure Lemon grass oil are our weapons. We sprayed, we spread, we conquered. It worked! Next day we moved to different hotel Maharaja Inn but to our great disappointment also this hotel was infested with nasty nocturnal creatures. Our defence system is very efficient and we manage to contain crawly nasties to bathroom only. Not even bed bugs could spoil or reduce spectacular décor of majestic Maharaja’s Palace, mind boggling beauty of stained glass interior somewhat reminding Gaudi’s style in Barcelona. Unfortunately our cameras were confiscated during the visit only to be returned upon exit from the palace – no pics! Our first overnight sleeper train will depart Mysore tonight at 6pm, arriving to Hospet at 7:30am. From Hospet another 30 minutes by local bus before magic scenery of Hampi makes us to say ‘Wow!’. Now we understand why everyone we met said “You must visit Hampi”. Large boulders sprinkled from sky over miles of rugged terrain blend with multitude of magnificent temples and all that is interwoven with endless greens of palms and banana plantations. This endangered World Heritage site is truly magnificent, we spend days walking through temples and ruins trying to absorb and appreciate this great ancient Hindu empire. A brief encounter with large group of wild monkeys was just another bonus on one of our exploration treks. Across the river from Hampi is small village Anegundi, apparently serving cold beer so after few days of its abstinence it sounds like a good idea as Hampi is strictly vegetarian and alcohol free zone. Beer yes, cold no. Sipping not so refreshing larger at river view garden restaurant we chat with local boys about life and fun. We can not believe what Shiva (about 25) says – his parents arranged marriage when he was fourteen with four years younger daughter of his own sister. Yes, he married his first cousin! They have been allowed to live together since Shiva turned 19. Together they have one daughter, apparently normal and healthy child. My next obvious question is shockingly answered “Around 25% of all arranged marriages occur inside the family but the number gets progressively smaller as government stepped up public education to eliminate such practices”. We say good-bye and before sunset we catch return boat to Hampi just in time for another pure-veg dish for dinner and pot of lemon tea. As train from Hospet leaves at 7:20am there is no chance for breakfast (nobody is willing to prepare any food before 9) and we leave Hampi with rickshaw well before sunrise, hopping to get some food on the train … and we did. Eight hours later we step out of train at Margao in very hot afternoon … 1km walk to bus stand, few buses, rickshaw and another 1km walk on sandy beach leave us absolutely drained and exhausted. Now we are in Banaulim, a small beach side conglomeration of few bamboo style restaurants and 2** resorts… we like this place from first minutes. Less then 200 meters from beach for $16 per night is pretty good deal, that combined with excellent food at Johncy beach restaurant and tax free beer makes this place the best next to paradise. Two days have passed quicker then a blink of an eye and by 6pm on Friday 28^th May we are back on train, this time over night to Mumbay.

… to be continued …

Photos: Sri Lanka

ivanci — Sun, 16 May 2010 22:00:00 GMT

Sri Lanka

ivanci — Sun, 16 May 2010 21:54:00 GMT

Nine hours flight from Melbourne to Kuala Lumpur is smooth despite we fly over the equator and dense stormy clouds prevent any views from our window. Staying in Tune Hotel just 500m from the terminal tonight, we leave early tomorrow morning. Truly tropical steamy and hot weather here feels like a little preview of what is ahead of us soon. At 3:30 wake up buzz, then short ride by shuttle bus to terminal and by 6am we are on the way to Sri Lanka … what is going to be like?

Bit confused after arrival we finally locate airport shuttle bus assuming this bus would go to Colombo, some 35km away. Instead we are soon dropped off at some local village not sure how to continue further. Suddenly one bus driver leans out of a window making hand signals we should board his bus, and we do. An hour drive to Colombo is somewhat unusual – locals seem to be very curious about us and we constantly feel their poking eyes in our direction… when our eyes meet they open into a big smile. We feel very comfortable and welcome right from the first moments. Bus terminates at a place looking like major bus-stop and we have no idea which part of Colombo we are in. Not having Lonely Planet or any other travel guide we rely on tuk-tuk driver’s advice where to find cheap and clean accommodation. We had seen many large Asian cities and Colombo is not an exception – busy, cluttered at times and very noisy with drivers honking at every possible occasion. Crossing road with our 20kg bags is tricky but does not seem to be risky as all sorts of cars from tuk-tuks to buses somehow manage to avoid any problems or collisions. We are taken to Nipon Hotel where we decide to stay for a couple of days; room is simple, reasonably clean but the main plus is an air-conditioning which may be quite useful in this scorching heat. Exploring Colombo on foot is not the best fun and by mid afternoon we are very tired – sweat dripping from temples irritate my eyes so we decide to go back to hotel and rest until heat drops. Afternoon storm cools the air a little and we are back on streets, this time looking for some typical local food. Surprisingly many locals can speak some English so we have no major problem to get around with even one local guy navigating us to a small eatery near supermarket Arsico. What a nice introduction to Sri Lankan curry! Really yummy. Not being fond of large cities we feel compelled to leave Colombo soon with aim to explore more authentic places along south coast and central hills region. On Tuesday 6 April we leave from the central train station at 9am having final destination set to Hikkaduwa, only 60km south of capital city… and what a train this was! Track was built just meters from the beach and sometimes there are only few boulders between the train and breaking surf. Amazing! Kids on train show urgency to test whether we are made of meat and bones … no, we are not aliens! We are just like you. I take many pictures and while few may be shy others quickly look at my camera with big open smile. This feels almost unreal and we ask ourselves: “Why are all people so nice and seem happy?” Hotels suitable for our budget are located some 3km out of Hikkaduwa and we trust local tuk-tuk driver to pick one for us. He did good job – we stay in the first one … white Mediterranean style guesthouse right on the beach and all for $20 per night. Pleasantly warm waters and endless golden beach lined up with straw umbrellas of restaurants come close to definition of paradise – we may have to stay here for few days. Having cold beer in one these bamboo huts we meet a young couple from Slovakia, immediately we find the same tune and more beers keep coming. Together we visit tsunami memorial just few km north of Hikkaduwa beach where we learn about tragedy of Christmas 2004 disaster. Chatting to locals only ads depth of sorrow and helplessness these people went through. The same train track we came by from Colombo was ripped out and twisted by the enormous force of water turning the train into instant graveyard. Next morning we say good bye to our Slovak friends heading off further south to see more beaches. Unawatuna famous and talked about for its beautiful golden bay is our next stop and less then one hour on a local bus is needed to get there. Again we trust local tuk-tuk driver for his recommendation and soon we relax on a balcony in company of monkeys swinging on mango trees. Short walk to bar-lined beach reveals sad reality – the most of sand was washed away by tsunami rip and from 100m wide beach only few narrow strips of sand is left in parts of the bay. Popular spot for reef diving is no longer visited by underwater enthusiasts as the reef was completely destroyed. Waves break against foundations of buildings and one wonders how much longer this can last. Powerful swell rocks the veranda where we are having dinner – no need for extra salt, water almost splashes into our plates. Next morning we leave Unawatuna as there is nothing exciting about this part of coast. Today we’d like to arrive to Mirissa, being only one hour away I think that should not be a major problem. Bus stop is only 100m from the beach and choice of guesthouses is pretty generous. Sorry tuk-tuk drivers, this time we just walk! Ten minutes later we enjoy nice views from balcony and cannot resist love feelings for this place. Next three days we spend in low stress mode… home-beach-restaurant-beach-home. With its Bob Marley style laid back atmosphere Mirissa offers clean beach, great curry, cheap beer and excellent roti (we try four varieties - cheese, vege, banana + chocolate = mnam). We could easily spend the rest of time here but that is not real reason why we came to Sri Lanka so on Monday 12.april we are on the road again to Tissamaharama with a short stop at Matara. Leaving beautiful beaches behind, from now on our journey will continue in-land and our first adventure will be Yala N.P, safari tour. As soon as we step off the bus at Tissa, couple of local guys with jeep offer their help with accommodation and visit to safari … since we have not been let down so far, we accept. Not knowing at that time, this was to be an unforgettable experience in Sri Lanka…. We check in to Kadapul guesthouse and before we could sort out our plans we sit at back of jeep to safari, apparently animals seek water holes in late afternoon and that increases our chances to see wildlife. Paying $120 (incl. entry fee) for four hours sounds little steep but we really want to see wild animals in their natural habitat. Definitely money well spent… seeing many elephants, wild bores, deer, crocodiles, mongus, cobra and many exotic birds from very close distance is thrilling. Two leopards playing on distant rock is just extra bonus. By sunset the park will be closed, it is time to make to the entrance and we see even more animals on the way out. Sweaty and covered in red dust we need good shower before trying local restaurant … wow, did I say restaurant? .. we found one shonky pub with no beer (sounds familiar?) but with millions of mosquitoes instead. Serving only one type of fried rice is actually better then none so we go for it. It is impossible to tolerate mossies any more and quickly we are out of there to spend rest of evening with family of the guesthouse. Our plan to leave Tissa tomorrow is abandoned when owner Damith tells us about Singhalese New Year happening in next two days – no buses will operate and all businesses will be closed .. hmm, what are we going to do? Answers come next morning at breakfast when Damith and his wife Sumana invite us to participate in celebration of the New Year by their family and relatives. We are the only guests in two storey guesthouse, Damith closed the door for all new tourists …”No problem with money” he answers our questions as to why he closed the guesthouse. Soon we get very friendly with their 19-year old son Janith and 17-year old daughter Dilki. It is difficult not to feel be part of their family, especially when Damith insists that we ceremonially open the New Year breakfast tomorrow at 9:07 (exactly). With big smile Damith says we are first foreigners ever invited for this most important family event. We are truly honoured and we gladly will stay next few days with this lovely family. Mid-afternoon walk around wetlands proved to be exhausting (heat and humidity kills us) but very rewarding. Reminding documentaries from Discovery channel wildlife here is abundant with many exotic birds showing off their smooth glide when landing amongst pink lotus flowers… and when we think it can not get any better there is a surprise … large flowering trees full of monkeys! Several families seem to establish their homes here with young daring teenagers come close to us while small babies cling tightly to their mothers. Such big curiosity to us is a nuisance to locals as monkeys very effectively destroy fruit trees, such as bananas and mangoes. Indeed, we often see many unripe mangoes on ground with only 1-2 bites… now we understand. On the way back home through town, trying to buy some food is almost impossible ... it is public holiday today and Damith was right! We are tired and hungry. “No problem” Damith offers to cook fish curry tonight but before the dinner is ready we’d like to visit nearby hospital where Sumana works as midwife. After seeing all wards from labour room to emergency and adult ward we have mixed feelings. Considering limited resources Sri Lanka has this was probably not bad hospital … we silently look at each other with no need to discuss this any further. Interesting experience. Sumana stays in hospital for overnight duty and we walk back home still with images of some patients in our minds. Well, curry is ready! Seven smaller dishes filled with sauces and vegetables are served together with steamed rice and always present papadams. Mildly spiced meal is absolutely delicious! Many crackers go off everywhere in town but New Year celebrations will really start tomorrow. We are anxious about what is going to be like … just before we go to bed Dilki smiles: “Do not be late for breakfast. It starts at 9:07”. Within our limits clean shaved and clean dressed we are ready for guidance through special breakfast … with all food on table, at 9:07 Iva lights candles, then Damith explains how we exchange little money for luck and prosperity, and finally we feed each other with first mouthful… all facing north for good luck. Dilky mentions my green tea-shirt has lucky colour and we also receive small bracelets. “Eat,eat!” Damith insists with a smile putting more food on our plates. We feel very special. They expect up to hundred visitors (family and friends) to arrive by late afternoon so in mean-time we show Dilki game Ludo … and she is quick learner… in kitchen Damith prepares 20kg of fried rice plus soup for all those visitors with no signs of any stress – “no problem” are his usual words. When first guests arrive we start to understand Sri Lankan mentality and the rest of evening only confirmed their high level of mutual respect, help and strong family bonds. By 7 pm two musicians play modern pop out in garden and to our surprise only boys move … where are all girls? Giggling and running around the guesthouse they show restraint and would not come out to mix with boys. Strange but we are learning. Starting dinner at 8pm eating sessions continue till about 10pm and many guests leave shortly afterward, except all Janith’s male friends, two of us and Damith … bottle of Arrack (40% distillate made from coconut) on table with few extra beers will ensure good party till late. When Dilky joins our outdoor party just before midnight Damith admits that his daughter sees him drinking beer for the very first time. With increased alcohol consumption the party goes little loose, me and Damith try to keep up with young boys swinging in crazy jungle moves. We call it off at 2am to Sumana’s pleasure (at this moment she has been almost 50 hours without sleep) despite Damith’s repated “No problem, no problem”. Our bus leaves in six hours… not much sleep ahead. Saying good bye that morning was difficult for everyone especially after being ‘adopted’ last night by Damith’s as his brother and sister. We wave from tuk-tuk knowing that we’ll miss this warm hearted family … maybe one day we’ll see them again.

With one unexpected stop to change bus at Wellawaya we arrive to Ella shortly after midday. This small village situated about 1000m above sea level is easy to get around, within ten minutes we find a new home at Soorya gust house, following an advice of young traveller we just met at bus stop. Fresh cooler air is a nice change to hot plains of Tissa, apparently Ella Gap valley fills with fog and cloud every afternoon which is promising for good sleep tonight. I get excellent chicken curry for dinner while Iva refused to eat anything, I think she is still a bit tired from last night’s New Year celebration. Few hikes around Ella makes this place very popular but all should be started early morning before clouds set in by lunch. The most strenuous is about four hours return hike to Ella Rock, this morning is glorious so we decide to leave guest house shortly after 8am to conquer the summit. First half of easy walk on railway tracks is followed by steep ascent to Ella Rock. Making the correct turn-off was rather tricky and without help of locals we would not have any chance finding it but the rest of trek was easy to follow. Sweeping views from the top over valley were stunning with mountain range slowly disappearing into distance. It was somewhat surprising that we did not meet any other tourists despite this day must have been one of few perfect days to do this hike. Well, better for us…. and as we have not had enough, after short rest we decide to walk 5km down the road to Rawena waterfalls packed with hundreds of Sri Lankan tourists. Obvious favoured picnic spot for locals, especially during New Year festive month of April. By now our legs are really tired, clouds get darker and heavier, and we resort to boarding very slow and over-crowded bus back to village… 5km in 20 minutes is not exactly fast but at least our legs do not have to walk uphill. Tired, we fall asleep by 9pm … train to Ohiya leaves tomorrow at 7am. We are not late, but train is by almost an hour, and fully packed with people, many hanging out of doors. How possibly can we squeeze in? Somehow we did. On next six to seven train stops more and more people stuff themselves inside and we progressively look more like a can of sardines. I can’t even move my feet few centimetres, Iva leans on slight angle but does not fall as there is nowhere to fall to. Luckily we have only about two hours to go while others will travel like this all the way to Colombo, nothing to envy. Locals must be used to such travel conditions, nobody is upset and many keep smiling. At Ohiya few teenage boys help our bags be taken off to the opposite side of train track as we had no chance exiting train onto the platform…and then pose for few photos. Unbelievable experience! Many people and children keep waving as train slowly leaves the station, standing on tracks we look around trying to come to terms as to where we are… one train station, one shop and one guest house seems to be all that forms Ohiya, but hang on .. there are few more houses over there! Is this the right place we should have got off the train? Local tuk-tuk driver explains that all we see is all we get and indeed this is the right place to explore Horton Plains N.P. Well, train is gone, what options do we have? Once again we trustfully follow his advice to leave for N.P. as soon as possible, before too many clouds spoil views from The World’s End cliff. We make a quick decision to stay in the only guest house here, besides the deal is too good to refuse – simple but clean room plus dinner plus breakfast for $18 and that is for both of us! Leaving our large bags behind, by 9:30am tuk-tuk starts 11km steep climb to Horton Plains National Park, sooo steep that his engine keeps stalling and I have to walk while Iva is getting a ride. Hurray, we are on top and now only last few km to the entrance, pay hefty fees and by 11:30 we start 9km round walk. So far so good but weather quickly deteriorates and clouds are building up fast. Apparently, the World’s End cliff falls almost 1000 meters down and on clear days we could see beautiful rainforest spreading as far as eyes can see. When we reach The World’s End lookout the dense fog rising from jungle below completely blocks all views, and soon heavy rain starts too. We are little disappointed but still happy. Again, hundreds of Sri Lankan holidaymakers are present everywhere and walking treks get pretty crowded in places. On this not so easy path we admire young families with small children, often being carried by mothers. How determined they all look, barefoot and in clumsy traditional long saris they stumble over boulders and muddy slippery terrain. Our travel umbrellas are useless and within minutes we are completely soaked just like everyone else … and guess what… they still smile. At elevation 2,200m and without any sunshine soon we start to feel cold and the only way to keep warm is to walk fast. We do not mind paddles or streams of water any more, walking straight through them does not make any difference because our shoes are drenched anyway. By 1:30pm we finish at small canteen where only tea and biscuits are available, but that is good … we need some fuel to burn before our tuk-tuk returns at 2pm. Still cold and exhausted we return back to Ohiya, change to dry clothing and wait for dinner – curry. What a day! First squashy on train, then wet and cold on plains! The only joy in this forgotten village is a bunch of few weeks old puppies we can play with. Plentiful mix of traditional and western breakfast, including chapatti and dall curry is just too big to finish, though very delicious. Train is about one hour late which probably means it is filled to the roof … yesterday the train leaving station was forced to stop as people trying to hang on fell off… and today might not be any different. It was the same, if not worse. Having paid for 2^nd class we could only squeeze to 3^rd anyway so why to bother? Well, at least we are securely inside train and moving! Two hours later a relief comes at our final destination Nanu Oya, suddenly we can freely breathe again and stretch our limbs…then straight to Nuvara Ellia by local bus. Nuvara Ellia is situated at 2,200m above sea level making this place very sought after retreat for locals and tourists as well. Within half an hour we realise coming here was a mistake … the town is absolutely chocked with people, accommodation prices are astronomical and its luna-park atmosphere does not feel comfortable. Making quick choice to leave the town, soon we are back to bus station where thousands of locals try to board buses to all possible directions … this is insane. At the bus stand bound for Haton over 50 people wait and the minibus would not take more then 20, it’s a race and for the first time we witness not so nice behaviour when time gets tough … many elbows are used and only by a miracle we make it inside the second bus after we left the first one to go. From here now on we can relax and enjoy scenery again with tea plantations everywhere. Arriving to Haton brings back our Sri Lanka as we know and like it. Small provincial town has its own calm pace and we quite enjoy afternoon stroll around centre. At very comfy $20 hotel room we’ll regain our mental and physical strength which will be needed for Adam’s Peak climb taken on in next few days. Leaving after lunch on Monday, 19 April we are on the way to Dellhousie, very picturesque two hour bus trip winds through even more tea plantations estates scattered around two beautiful lakes. Dellhousie is a cute small village built on one side of a narrow valley. This is base for a climb to Adam’s Peak, about 1000m conical mountain with a monastery on the top. We are advised to commence hike at 2am as it may take up to four hours to climb 5000 steps over 7km trek, and we want to see sunrise from the top! Staying at Greenhouse G.H. proves to be advantageous due to its proximity to trail starting point and also few other backpackers stay here tonight with whom we chat over dinner. Five hours sleep is enough and at 2am sharp we start walking, all we have taken is water and camera. Torch is not needed as path is well lit all the way up and to our surprise we are not alone. There are hundreds of pilgrims of all ages walking alongside, some already returning from their journey, many looking very tired. This experience is very hard to put in words – many pilgrims mumble prays in synchronised blend of sounds and we are sucked into this spiritual mass as we get closer to the top. Steps get narrower and our progress slows down to one step at the time, all in the presence of this rhythmical prays generated by crowd. It is fascinating. We reach the monastery at about 5:30am with just enough time to find a spot to observe sunrise. There are already hundreds of locals up here waiting for the same, we can hardly count more then dozen of foreigners. Each person reaching the top may ring a bell where number of bell rings indicate number of visits to Adam’s Peak monastery… some people ring many times, quite amazing! Sunrise is spectacular. With amazement we watch huge triangular shaped shade cast by the mountain across the western sky, it does not last long and disappears as sun keeps rising. The show is over and we face those 5000 steps once more, this time in opposite direction. Walking down feels much harder on legs and joints, air warms up very quickly even if my watch shows only 7am. Two hours later we relax at guesthouse having so needed breakfast. By 11am we leave Delhousie on the bus to Kendy with one change at Haton. Endless tea plantations make this journey very scenic so five hours on bus go rather quickly. We follow our friend’s recommendation to stay in Blue Haven G.H and this was good choice. Surrounded by rainforest we indulge views from large terrace, right in front of our room. Tomorrow we take an offer from guesthouse owners to explore Botanical Gardens, elephant orphanage at Pinnewala, spice gardens and tea factory. Quite fulfilling day this was. The Botanical Gardens at Kendy is not only one of the most beautiful we have ever seen but it is also very educational as we can touch and smell many exotic spices such as nutmeg, pimento, cinnamon, curry leaves, cocoa, vanilla beans and many more. Later the elephant orphanage with its more then 80 inhabitants must be the most intensive encounter with these beautiful gentle giants. We are lucky to arrive just in time for baby bottle feeding session… quite funny to watch babies suck milk from 1L bottle in 5 seconds. Around 2pm the whole herd moves to nearby river where they have real fun…bath and play for a couple of hours… but we need to leave them as time is running fast and tea factory will close soon. Short excursion to manufacturing floor gave us an insight on how tea is made… the difference between black and green tea depends on fermenting process, not on type of tea leaves. Back home just for dinner and tired we go sleep. Three days left in Sri Lanka should be plenty for two more sights – Cave Temple and Sigiriya rock fortress near Dambulla, some 2.5 hours north from Kendy. If Kendy was warmer then Ella, then Dambulla feels like open oven. Mid afternoon walk through the Cave Temple was not the smartest thing to do as temperatures soared easily to 40C and after two hours we are completely exhausted. We must have suffered heat stroke to explain why the heck we walk another 3km to town at this unbearable heat…but we want to experience the whole package not just few comfortable parts. Vegetarian pastry samosa is little too hot for Iva but we are hungry … by 6pm we sit at local mini-restaurant to try another local dish ‘kotu’, washed down with not so cold beer (actually the beer was at air temperature which at that time could have been around 30C). Not always everything is perfect… but does it really matter? Now we deserve some rest, tomorrow 5^th century Sigiriya ruins to be visited. Tuk-tuk comes just after breakfast at pre-agreed time 6:30am, we still have to cover 25km on road before getting to this famous ancient site. Trying to avoid walking in hot weather we start early; at 7am the sun is already in full power, after all we are almost on the Equator. We seem to be first visitors here today, a definite advantage for unspoiled pictures. Sweating, we climb the Sigiriya rock fortress and what stunning views open in all directions. Two hours passed away quicker then we thought and by 9am we return back to our tuk-tuk waiting at the car park. Afternoon rain is good excuse to be lazy and stay home for the rest of day. On Saturday 9am we catch bus to Negombo where we are going to spend last night before flight to Chennai in India. Once again, tuk-tuk driver helps to find reasonable accommodation close to beach with lots of small restaurants and cafes around. Easy day, good night sleep and local bus to the airport are amongst our last moments in this amazing and wonderful country.

Photos: Tasmania

ivanci — Sat, 24 Apr 2010 20:42:00 GMT

Tasmania

ivanci — Sat, 24 Apr 2010 20:39:00 GMT

Eight months has passed since our return from RWT-1 and what a life here at Blue Bay it was! Living in small one bedroom unit just 300m from beautiful beach was comfortably easy and we had no difficulties to adjust to such lifestyle… but it’s time to go to another adventure trip. The only issue making this somewhat difficult will be eight months absence from children and sweet grandchildren. Well, we’ll see them again soon.

As little warm-up first we explore Tasmania for 11 days before we fly to Sri Lanka.

Saturday, 20 March we arrive to Launceston only to discover that Bargain Rentals completely stuffed up our booking for a campervan. No one is in the office; guy who answers mobile (previously given to us by Bargain Rentals) does not know anything about our booking but promised to get someone soon. Manager Tim gets very rude and abusive refusing to accept any responsibility. After few hours and many arguments he offers smaller campervan from Tassie Motor Shack. Having no other option we accept and by 5pm we leave Launceston to start exploring Tasmania, and we do it in a clockwise direction. Apparently sun does not go down until about 7pm so we should be able to make it to St. Helen on the east coast before sunset. Our first evening at local caravan park is quiet and cold … we are not used these sort of temperatures. After dinner at local RSL we found nice refuge under duna inside our new home. Morning is grey and occasional drizzle rules out any trips to Bay of Fires, at least for now. Instead we decide to explore area around Weldborough starting with 90m Colombo waterfalls and amazing surrounding rainforest, then visit to cheese factory followed by apple-cider on tap at historic hotel. Extra adrenalin comes with our car getting stuck on sandy road – Iva tries to help pushing but car slips further and further down the hill. Rocks and sand fly from rear tires and I feel suddenly very cold. How the heck are we going to get out of this forest? We need to prevent further slipping so we place few large rocks behind back wheels, offload heavy backpacks and with Iva’s strong determination I manage to get car back on flatter part of the road. Soon we are back on bitumen thinking whether we should take this campervan off-road again. Late afternoon clearing weather looks promising and we head off to Bay of Fires. Tonight we stay at free camping grounds right on the beach. Bright starry night is peaceful and also very cold but 7am sunrise seen from our car-bed more then compensates for all sufferings. What followed that day blew our minds away – stunning turquoise waters blended with hot orange algae covered rocks forms surreal natural mosaic. Truly spectacular! Taking pictures, more pictures, just can’t stop… but once more it’s time to move on and by mid-afternoon we arrive to Bicheno. Distances in Tasmania are relatively short and roads are good with little traffic so on average we spend no more then a couple of hours behind the wheel every day. Bicheno is famous for colonies of little penguins living on its shore and tonight we are going on a mission. By 9pm whispering and shivering we hide amongst large boulders but no sightings of these small cute creatures so we decide to call the mission off. Next morning locals tell us we should have waited much longer. Perhaps we should, but who knows…?

Few scrambled eggs for breakfast is a good start and by 9am we follow the coast further south to reach Freycinet National Park before lunch. Almost clear skies look promising – with our daypacks filled with water and few sandwiches we start 7km return hike to Wineglass Bay beach… and what a view from the lookout!!! Turquoise water in this nicely curved bay is plain amazing and we cannot resist to take many pictures we used to know only from postcards. Another hour of somewhat steeper descent down to the beach is just as rewarding - sitting on beach we eat our lunch while we soak up the serenity of this place. Well worth the effort … well we still have to make it back to the car park. Unfortunately we did not pre-book a camp site at the park and ranger suggests we can stay 8km west of Coles Bay town. Before retiring for the day we make a short trip to the lighthouse with nice views. Small campfire keeps us warm as well as a bottle of red. Wednesday morning we leave fairly early because we want to catch ferry to Maria Island … to our disappointment we miss the ferry by half an hour. Hmm, never mind, we’ll do something else. No point waiting here for another day we decide to continue further south. At 5pm Port Arthur becomes our new home base for tonight. Short sightseeing and dinner at local pub is all we can manage before calling the day off, tomorrow we’ll have early morning. It is still dark when alarm goes off. While everyone is still sleeping we quietly leave caravan park for few hours drive to Bruny Island ferry which leaves at 9:30am and we cannot miss it. All worked out ok and by 11am we sit on a 2x400hp speed boat, sharing it with another 20 people for next three hours. Unforgettable experience! Not those 20 people… dramatic coastline and abundant wildlife were stars of the show. Few large colonies of seals inhabit the most southern tip of the island where Pacific and South oceans meet showing off their powers. Strong waves play with our boat and standing up while taking photos takes some good balancing skills. Truly amazing boat trip this was. Driving back to ferry we stop at narrow neck joining south and north Bruny islands only to discover many fairy penguins found their homes on slopes by the beach. Late afternoon we arrive to Hobart to meet my daughter Monika and we all enjoy nice dinner at Drunken Admiral restaurant. Friday morning after breaky and few farewell hugs we stop at Cadbury Chocolate factory on the way to western half of Tasmania. Needles to say what chocoholics do at such place … mnam,mnam. Soo many calories need to be burnt and what a better place then to stop at Mount Field National Park for short walk to nearby waterfalls through lush rainforest. Very satisfying! Chocolate and rainforest too. Landscape starts to rapidly change as we drive further to the north-west. Tasmanian hydroelectric system exploiting 100’s of meters of gravity is pretty impressive and we start to appreciate dramatic ruggedness of this part of Tasmania. At 5pm we finally arrive at Lake St Clare. It is very cold, the National Park office is already closed and there is only one (and not exactly cheap) pub opened at Derwent Bridge. Camping site in the National Park is ridiculously expensive but we strike lucky with the owner of local petrol station and he let us to stay at adjacent car park. Hot soup for dinner keeps our bodies warm for a couple of hours and only bed and duna can save us from freezing. Next morning after breakfast we enjoy a short walk by the lake looking for elusive platypus with no luck of any sightings. Staff at the Info centre is very helpful providing maps and hints on “not to be missed” places – Franklin River rainforest and Nelson waterfalls are just few mentioned. Descent from the Franklin-Gordon N.P. plateau to Queenstown is quite chilling and I would not want our car breaks to fail now. Mining activity in this region is evident and the moon-like landscape lacks any green growth. Big difference to what we saw just short while ago. We had no plans to stay here but closer look at the town changed our minds … tomorrow we could ride historic steam train from Queenstown to Strahan. Very tempting indeed! On the train we learn short history of mining presented in very entertaining way by young tourist guide … with hints of serious and visible ecological damage done to the area over time. Hopefully the river will have its life back in not so distant future. We also tried our own gold panning skills … and bingo! Iva found a speck of pure gold which would easily sell at $25! … but instead of increasing our asset base she decides to keep it as souvenir. The four hour trip is definitely worth of every penny as steam engine puffs up 1:16 rail slope through the most beautiful rainforest, once away from Queenstown. Late afternoon we return back to Queenstown by bus and continue little further north so we get closer to Cradle Mountain N.P. Weather has turned bad, it is raining and cold. Free camping site near Tuloch recommended by a tourist book had long time been converted into a rubbish dump. An alternative is to stay somewhere in bush, which seemed a good idea until Iva found few cuddly leaches around her ankles. Hey, do not panic! They are not deadly .. just ugly .. and maybe hungry too. Monday 29 March is the day we are going to see the most talked about attraction in Tasmania – Cradle Mountain. Weather is still pretty bad but we are determined to walk 6km around The Dove Lake, does not matter what. Equipped with Gortex jackets and beanies we start the hike. Can not be more lucky … clouds are receding and sunny breaks become frequent. The lake path is simply amazing, one cannot resist thinking that if ferries exist they must live here. The Cradle Mountain undressed from its white veil of clouds for few seconds here and then and we take every opportunity to shoot from many angels. Not having enough of nature’s serenity we extend our hike by another few km to Ronies Creek where we are lucky again – echidna crossed the board-walk that close Iva almost stepped on her. Ten minutes later Iva meets a wombat face to face. It is truly her day!

Tired but excited we return to car park and shortly continue our journey to Doloraine where we stay in a caravan park over night. Tomorrow we spare for Launceston, on our last day of this trip we’d like to visit Cataract Gorge. It is unusual to find such a wild nature walk right in the middle of town and 6km round hike with two suspension bridges is quite an attraction for locals and visitors. A visit to Josef Chromy winery was disappointing because we just missed the lunch time and Mr. Josef Chromy (migrated to Tasmania from Czechoslovakia after IIWW) has been away. We drive to nearby Evendale where local markets grounds can be used for overnight campers. Baked beans and sausage provide fuel for last night sleep. Large disk of full moon rising above horizon will not help good sleep tonight. By 8am we return the van at the airport and shortly after we see Tasmania from the air heading towards Melbourne.

There were two reasons to stay at Melbourne – Gypsy Kings concert tonight is main one; secondly budget airline AirAsia does not operate from Sydney. Hotel Cosmopolitan at St Kilda exceeds our expectations as staff upgraded our accommodation from Basic to Deluxe upon arrival. Soaking up Melbournian lifestyle we enjoy meals and few bears in all sorts of pubs and cafes for next few days. After all we have nothing else to do. Gypsy Kings did not disappoint and audience including two of us could not ignore the persuasive rhythms.

Saturday 3 April at 01:45 after midnight we leave Australia for eight months backpacking trip starting at Sri Lanka.

Gallery: Russia

ivanci — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 13:59:00 GMT

Russia

ivanci — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 13:37:00 GMT

Overnight train was comfy and quiet – we had four berth coupe for ourselves until last stop just before Mongolian side of border around 7am on Thursday 14 May. While stretching my legs on platform, I change redundant Tugriks into Rubles with a local “businessman”. He looks reputable, after all what options do I really have? Suddenly train gets flooded with local “traders” who will try to smuggle anything from socks, bras and jeans to shoes and handbags to Russia. Firstly we do not understand what is going on but soon we realize this almost childish routine must be taking place every day and for many this may be the only way to make few bucks for living. Mainly women try to conceal contents of large bags anywhere they can – one enters our coupe spreading her “hot items” evenly around … two pairs of brand new pants hang right behind me, many pairs of socks are lazily tossed across our beds and a mysterious gift box is placed on table amongst our breakfast leftovers. Everyone is very agile trying to put on as many pieces of clothing as possible. It is somewhat comedian to see them dressed in layers and layers of clothing in relatively warm morning with a smear of fear on their faces in anticipation of Russian custom officers later. Actually we feel sorry for them in a way, but unwilling to participate despite many ladies asking to hide some of their contraband in our backpacks. In meantime our carriage is disconnected from the train (which will return to Ulanbator) and taken by locomotive across the border only to be reconnected to a Russian train waiting in Naushki. It is 10am. We are in no doubt that Russian border check will be a tough one, firstly our carriage is searched through with police dogs, then few officers turn everything possible upside down checking even ventilation holes and then very strict smile-less woman officer collects all passports. We do not feel any pressure but these poor smugglers are very stressed and put under immense pressure from Russian authorities. Lady from our coupe and other two are taken away with all their possessions, I can see them from the window walking inside the custom building being escorted with officers and dogs. Finally we get our passports back, all smugglers undress, repack their bulky bags to quickly get out of the train and we leave Naushki at 3pm in our journey to Baikal Lake. We should not be surprised to see snow covered landscape from our window early morning with sunrise. We left tropical and hot south east Asia long time ago and this reality is somewhat chili. Well, this is Siberia!

We arrive to Irkutsk at 8am. Following directions to Downtown Hostel we hop on a crowded tram #1 outside of railway station, buy tickets from tram driver and few minutes later I instinctively check my left pocket … I have been doing this for some time completely automatically being almost paranoid since we lost two cameras … damn! My wallet is gone! … with 5000 rubles, two VISA cards and Australian driver’s license. I can not believe it! Swearing does not help much, I can’t get it back. Very chili morning indeed…. Welcome to Russia!

Luckily Iva has the second set of VISA cards so we can withdraw cash from nearby ATM, I do not want to imagine what we would do in Irkutsk without access to money. Finding Downtown Hostel was bit of a challenge and unattractive rear heavy security door to block of units was rather unexpected entrance to a hostel. Apparently owners converted their old three bedroom flat into two six-bed dormitories and shared bathroom plus kitchen. With very limited backpacker accommodation availability in Irkutsk we should not complain too much and this deal for 1000 rubles per night ($40) is the cheapest deal we can find around … far cry from private room in luxury Pink Hotel at Dalat (Vietnam) where we paid $10 with breakfast and internet included. Hey, stop dreaming and get back to Russian reality … we need to call our bank in Ausie to stop VISA cards before some Russian bastard runs for free shopping. And any cream on the cake? We need to register our visas in Irkutsk with local “authority”, of course for a fee ($25). This place sucks! Less then 24 hours in Russia and we start to regret we ever came … but we are already here so let’s enjoy whatever we can. Using our footwork and trams we explore Irkutsk for the whole day and though very cold we enjoy subtle beauty and serenity of the town, contributed to by its architecture and parks. Sashlik, beer and vodka elevates our spirit to higher level so by late afternoon we are more relaxed not discussing earlier events any more. We also stop at railway station to buy train tickets for Moscow ($650 both). One of main attractions in Russia is the Lake Baikal of course, so tonight we book a marshutka (minivan) from Irkutsk to Chuzir, which we are told is the well known touristy town on The Olchon Island. On Sunday morning we meet few other travelers at Vogzal (bus station) and soon we leave for a six hour drive. After short ferry crossing and one more hour on dirt road we finally arrive to glorified Chuzir and we are truly stunned. It is difficult to describe our feelings as we walk through village looking for Hostel Nikita. Looking around this ghost town and at each other we shake our heads … vast majority of timber houses are on the verge of collapse, fences have fallen down already, no people on streets, no animals in paddocks. In fact no signs of life at all except one or two lost dogs wandering around muddy pond, filled with rubbish in the middle of village. Scattered empty vodka bottles are the only evidence of grim night life here. After check in we are taken by English speaking staff through maze of various wooden dwellings to our room. Not bad at first sight, soon we figure out there is something unusual, almost spooky about this hostel, this village and this island. Nikita (owner) expands his little empire with new guesthouses, each one being built in different shape and colors probably more due to availability of building materials then to architectonic design. We are quite excited about our private bathroom with shower and chemical toilet just outside of our room until we discover nothing works – water is not connected, neither sewer and the toilet needs to be emptied manually every day, luckily by staff and not by us. Hmm, how do we wash ourselves then? Well, there is a bucket of freezing water inside our room … even more private bathroom! Ok, settle in and let’s go to explore village before dinner, hopefully on the way we can buy few beers. We found only one small grocery shop with very limited choice of goods; surprisingly we have seen no sign of restaurants, bars or any other public social place as we are used to. Now we understand why Nikita Hostel offers a package of three basic meals per day together with accommodation – there is nowhere else to eat! Tonight, after dinner served in common dining room, two local housewives dressed in traditional costumes will sing Russian folk melodies, accompanied with local guy plying accordion. Interesting flashback to our early childhoods while singing Kathusha and Kalinka with them…after all 5 years of Russian language at school back in old Czechoslovakian communist regime left few things in our memories. Other backpackers are somewhat surprised with our skills. What else can we do on this island? One day we explore on foot the coastline of beautiful Lake Baikal, the other day we join a full day 4WD rough trip to the most northern tip ‘Mys Choboy’, and one day we desperately want to find some form of social life in Chuzir… except five more mixed-goods shops we failed our mission. Majestic and breathtakingly beautiful Lake Baikal is undisputedly number one landmark in our Russian experience. Crystal clear turquoise waters reflect steep white rocks rising from the lake, distant light-gray mountains add mystic feel, and blossoming flowers present everywhere make this place very peaceful. It is early spring and we still can touch ice in few shady areas, water must be just above freezing point and dead quiet nature is just about to wake up from long and cold winter. On Thursday morning we leave Lake Baikal arriving to Irkutsk late afternoon… this time we stay at Hostel Baikal (we found only two hostels in Irkutsk – Downtown and Baikal). On Friday we need to buy life support supplies for our 96 hours train to Moscow (leaving Irkutsk 10pm) …. salami, cheese, bread, beer and vodka should do.

Two young Russian ladies share coupe with us for first 20 hours, the rest of the trip we have the four berth coupe just for ourselves. Eating, drinking beer and vodka, playing cards, reading books, joking with kids on train or just looking out of window fill our four days so at the end our trip has not felt that long after all. One evening we get invited by a local sport team to their coupe for stakan, or two. “Davaj po centimetriku i nebudem targovat sa!” one says with big grin on his face and we quickly learn how Russian drink vodka.

Moscow on Tue 26^th May at 4:30am is sunny but very cold and windy, the Metro does not start until 5:30am and we kill an hour by wandering inside train station… at 6:30 we arrive to Godzila Hostel run by an American guy. We are going to stay in private room with shared bathroom for four nights ($90 per night! This is easily the most expensive backpacker’s hostel in whole year), no breakfast, no coffee. At least it looks clean and recently refurbished. Need some good food to kick off metabolism soon and after walking around few blocks we find nice bakery with delicious ‘pirozky’. Back in hostel after 1pm… check in our room… warm shower is quite pleasant after four days on trans-siberian. Eating out in Moscow is prohibitively expensive, after having quite miserable one or two meals we decide for self-catering option utilizing hostel kitchen. Puzzled why Moscow has been officially voted as the most expensive city in the world we must agree. Over next few days Iva prepares very tasty pasta, pancakes and fried rice from supermarket ingredients and the only shop we re-visit is the one with pirozky. Wednesday morning is more pleasant and in short sleeves we head off to explore Moscow with help of efficient Metro. Red Square is an obvious target and not just for us – plaza is buzzing with tourists, we just have missed Lenin’s mausoleum closing hours and have to return tomorrow. For the rest of afternoon we leisurely stroll around remarkably colorful Kolomenskoe Park dressed up in blossoming tulips and lilacs. First item on our Thursday’s agenda is Lenin, then Museum of Cosmos Exploration. Unexpectedly we also witness unleashed celebrations of Border Guard Service Day – by mid afternoon many half naked drunken soldiers sing and dance around water fountain to our enjoyment, some taking their liberties perhaps too far. Something impossible or unthinkable in Australia but that is exact reason why we travel. Friday is very last day of our Round the World Trip, not accounting visit to our homeland Czech Republic, and we feel little sad that our adventure is almost over. But wait, there is more! Five more weeks in Czech and one week in Italian Dolomites before we fly back to Australia. Our departure from Russia on Saturday 30th May is not without a hitch – a two hour flight to Prague expands almost to ten hours when connecting flight from Kaliningrad to Prague is cancelled and instead we are taken via Paris landing at Praha-Ruzyne airport at 8pm. Not happy but finally home.

Despite magic Lake Baikal we were not impressed with Russia in whole, mainly due to lack of compassion and warmness from people, sometimes even bordering with arrogance. All they seem to be interested at or motivated by is money. Services like accommodation and hospitality are non-proportionally expensive as compared to average living standards of ordinary people, or rest of the world. Russians would like to be global players but they have not learned good manners and customs. Russia did not leave positive feelings on us and therefore we do not plan to come back.

Gallery: Mongolia

ivanci — Sat, 8 Aug 2009 21:45:00 GMT

Mongolia

ivanci — Sat, 8 Aug 2009 12:59:00 GMT

Within half an hour of leaving Erlian the Mongolian authorities infested our train to start really thorough border/customs check. Our passports are taken away for stamping and we are not allowed to leave train for almost three hours. All doors and windows are locked, guards on the platform look very mean and we sweat at boiling 36C inside, and the restrooms are opened only when train is moving ... not happy! Around 8pm a sharp looking female officer returns with passports and we can finally walk out of our temporary prison. Train heading for Ulaanbaatar is going to leave in a few hours so we visit nearby restaurant testing our first Mongolian dish and local beer in company of Chinese girl journalist JD. Besides Cantonese she speaks Mongolian and English and that is very handy. We share 4-berth coupe with two Mongolian sisters returning home from study in Beijing and after good sleep and breaky they both get interested in our favored card game "Joker" which we often play to kill some time. Other Mongolian passengers get soon involved as well and by mid morning our coupe is full of Joker enthusiasts. We have a lot of fun and it is almost sad to see Ulaanbaatar station so soon saying good bye to everyone. Very friendly staff from Golden Gobi hostel is awaiting us at the station as promised, and soon after we check in a clean and spacious double room. This hostel is somewhat unusual in a way of its position and style – local Mongolian family transformed a couple of flats in a typical two storey block of units into one space with nice and cozy feeling. Later afternoon we are invited to join a 6-day 4-WD trip through central Mongolia. That sounds exciting, we are going to meet many nomad families and learn about their traditions and culture. We are in! Our group of six backpackers, driver and tour guide Pasca (she will cook as well) will leave tomorrow morning in a Russian jeep. Wow! Can not wait till morning, despite warnings of “no shower”, no toilets and lots of bumpy ride. We leave just after breakfast – Pasca needs to stock up cooking supplies while we take the opportunity to buy more vodka and munchies. First 100km in spacious jeep with hard Russian suspension is surprisingly not so bad but everyone welcomes first stop at Hustai National Park resort where we hear first time about almost extinct Przewalski horse. Soon we are on the road again. Suddenly someone spots a herd of horses coming towards us from a distance. Driver stops, we get out very slowly and in amazement we watch about a dozen of wild Przewalski horses galloping across the road some 20 meters in front of us. “Guys, you are extremely lucky!” Pasca smiles and we feel privileged to be here. It looks like horses decided to perform for us the best of their skills, we take many pictures while they play and drink from nearby creek. Back to jeep, lunch on the way and off we go – we still have 200km more to the first overnight stay with nomad “Bur” family. Rolling hills and valleys are occasionally spotted with groups of 2 or 3 round tents – gers, but mostly the land is bare and unpopulated. There are no sealed or sign posted roads here, our driver is skilled negotiating sometimes steep river crossings, all that without GPS or maps – he just knows which way to go. I am thinking myself “How would I survive here if I ever get lost? Hmm, that would be unpleasant”. We arrive to Bur’s family just before sunset; the weather has deteriorated with strong cold westerly winds picking up. While Pasca prepares our dinner, we all settle in one “guest ger”. There are six single beds inside lined up alongside the round wall and a smaller stove in the middle. Bur’s wife started fire and in minutes we feel warm again – this is a good time to unpack and get beds ready for night before dinner is ready. We’ll all eat, play and sleep in this unusual type of accommodation for next few days. After delicious dinner Pasca goes on explaining local customs; for example we need to follow clockwise direction when visiting family’s ger, she talks about harmony which exists between nomads, their livestock and the nature. We learn how families pack up their gers and move from place to place up to four times a year to follow seasonal changes of pastures. When I ask 79 year old Bur what makes him the happiest, he thinks for a while and then replies “When my animals are healthy” - Pasca translates with a light smile and adds this family owns over 1000 sheep and angora goats. He pulls out a small container from inside his heavy thick coat and offers sniffing tobacco as a gesture of friendship to all of us. Remarkable evening, perhaps few minds tonight will be thinking about values and priorities in life before falling asleep. Morning is freezing, literary. An overnight blizzard has covered this vast land with thin layer of powdery snow and temperatures dropped below zero. Brr… we supposed to ride camels today and it is still snowing by 9am! Hmm, but how often can we ride a camel in Mongolian outback? This is the only chance, so put on those heavy long sleeved coats and hop on! Bur prepares three camels (yes, we'll ride on seats) so split in two groups of three riders, each group having about half an hour of camel fun. Clouds have receded a little and wind dropped off slightly which makes the ride more enjoyable. Earlier this year Bur's female camel had her first baby and now three months old youngster does everything what small kids do - it madly jumps around but never too fat from her mum. On the way we encounter a group of mischievous billy goats who decided to explore the world outside their home boundaries, Bur knows how to handle such situation. The presence of livestock is overwhelming. With smile we watch hundreds of somewhat clumsy baby sheep and goats jumping on steep rocks never really loosing their balance. Few even come for a cuddle, perhaps we start to smell like their mothers. Lunch at noon and we need to move on soon, at 2pm we wave to Bur’s family from windows of our jeep heading further 200km west. Snow sprinkled landscape becomes more dramatic with steeper valleys and rockier hills. We also see first yaks, from now on we’ll see them everywhere and often they are domesticated as an alternative to here-non-existent common cow. A quick stop-over at Semi-Gobi desert gives us some impression of what Gobi might look like and by 7:30pm we arrive to a young nomad family of five – Mocho (husband), Turne (wife) and three daughters 2, 7 and 10. We’ll stay with this family for two nights and as before a single visitor’s ger is ready for us. We are invited to the family ger and our taste buds are put to the test when offered Mongolian tea. What is Mongolian tea? A green tea with salt and fresh creamy yak’s milk – close your eyes, imagine a soup and you have no problem. Imagine a tea and no one can drink it! An interesting play of mind. I passed the test on the first attempt; Iva needs one more day to convince herself. Few vodka shots after dinner will help good night sleep. It has been snowing all night and brief toilet visits to mother nature pose few challenges. Saturday morning is still very cold, skies are covered with thick grey cloud, wind sprinkles snow everywhere and horse riding looks even more uncertain. All of us seem to be sucked into this amazingly peaceful lifestyle and we take every opportunity to be part of it – we watch Turne milking yaks, we carry baby goats and sheep to an overnight shelter or we walk livestock to/from pastures. The weather little improves by late morning giving green light to horse riding. Mocho and his friend saddle eight horses and we are on the way to waterfalls. Well, maybe in wet season but now completely dry. Never mind, the sensation of horse riding with nomads in snow covered Mongolian outback is priceless. Back for lunch just in time, we are all very hungry – metabolic combustion is quite rapid at low temperatures. Pasca has proven herself as an excellent cook and also today we do not expect any less. She has not disappointed us and her Mongolian based meals taste great. Afternoon is filled with few activities – we three boys opt for another horse ride, Iva relaxed with a cup of coffee catching up with her notes and later this afternoon we all engage in game of badminton under blue sunny sky. Sunday starts with home made yak’s yogurt on pancakes, then Turne comes forward to our request to see angora goat shearing to produce Kashmir wool. Finally we sadly say good bye to this lovely family and move on to acomplish busy day ahead, including visit to a monastery hidden deep in forest hills. After four hours driving the Russian jeep struggles to finish last few kilometers on steep and muddy road, in one place it even slides sideways dangerously close to a cliff. We jump out of the car refusing to get back in again. “Not until you get off that edge” we insist on driver. He did and we continue up hill for few more kilometers however conditions get worse quickly as snow cover increases with higher altitude. Jeep dances on snow and mud like a yo-yo; too many times I hit the roof with my head. Finally the car comes to a stop – too much snow and mud for these tires, we need to walk from here. Pasca reckons we have 6km each way and it is 3pm already. My sneakers are completely soaked wet, snow gets deeper in shady forest and our enthusiasm runs thinner by every minute. Last drop and we call it off – me, Iva and Femke decide to bail out and we leave the group about the half way up to monastery returning to the jeep. Hopefully we’ll find the way through the forest.... All went ok; we found the car and quickly made a fire to dry our footwear. The rest of the group returned at 6:30pm, now we need to move really fast to reach our next overnight stay at hot springs, still at leats 100km away. It does not look good – did we say no sealed roads or sign posts here? The sun moves closer to horizon and something looks sus – our driver asks locals for direction and we seem to be going in circles around very large swampy flat lands. Suddenly we see where we do not want to be … jeep gets bogged in deep mud in middle of swampy terrain. It is now completely dark, no flashlights or shovels are at hand and no one can help but us. I am little angry with the driver because this could have been prevented if he did not drive like a fool. With the help of few members of our group the car is pushed out of the mud and we move again. Not for long though. A couple of hundred meters later he gets bogged again, this time the car sits on its belly and there is no way to get it on wheels again. “How could he not see the water in front of the car?” I ask myself when I saw reflection of headlights on paddles ahead of us just before it happened. Truly foolish, indeed. Furthermore, neither driver nor Pasca are really sure where exactly we are. It is 11pm, very cold and with moon shining over dead-quiet land we start to walk with our backpacks in hope to find some place to stay overnight. Pssshh! Someone can hear dogs barking in distance. The sound becomes more intense so we must be getting closer. Where dogs are, there are people. Or, are they? We do not know for sure, none of us is familiar with Mongolian outback at night. Keep walking, and then we see a silhouette of ger in about 200m distance. Pack of loudly barking dogs is maybe within 20-30 meters and we can see them, very nerving situation. David remembers how he was once chased by a pack of wild dogs. Whole group tucks down to prevent further dog’s aggravation. While we are quietly waiting for next action, our driver somehow passed guard dogs and knocked on ger’s door, asking family for a help. Few minutes later dogs go quiet and we are all invited inside; to our amazement this very young family with small baby offers us their ger as a shelter for tonight. We could not believe this - Wife made up fire in already cold stove, cooked Mongolian tea, rolled noodles from the scratch and cooked them with lamb meat while her small baby was happily sleeping in her bed. By 1am they dragged in few spare mattresses with blankets and tired all we fall asleep on the floor very quickly. Morning is fresh but at least it is sunny. At 6am wife milks yaks, we assist grandma to remove baby goats from their mums to a shelter while grownups go to pastures. In meantime our driver organized some local guy with a tractor to pull his jeep out of mud plains. Two hours later the rescued jeep arrives to load our backpacks and we are on the move to hot springs where we supposed to be yesterday. This is our first shower in five days and we all are looking forward hot water bath in a swimming pool fed with natural thermal spring. While Pasca is working hard on our breaky we indulge in hot swimming pool, wondering how we feel when we get called for the breakfast – air sits at chili 10C. Quick nap, then lunch and we are in jeep once more for the last destination of this trip - ancient capitol Kharkhorin. Soon after we leave hot springs we stop once more at our rescuer’s ger for fresh yak’s yogurt produced within few hours of milking. Five hours later we arrive to a touristy ger camp in town of Kharkhorin. Tonight a local musician will perform traditional music in our ger and few other tourists are welcome to join us. Last sleep in ger means the trip is almost over – not quite yet, we are going to see local monastery, then many, many hours on a mix of dirt and sealed roads to Ulaanbaatar, in total 360km. Apart from seeing herd of over thousand horses galloping by, the ride is tiring. Everyone just looks through windows and I know what is going through minds here in jeep - We all are sad that this wonderful encounter with nomads and their livestock has come to the end. Driving through streets of Ulaanbaatar makes us to think about real values of modern city life.

Tonight we all go out for last dinner and tomorrow I and Iva are going to board train for Russia. Our last day in Mongolia starts with a visit to local markets and the rest of afternoon we just cruise around town centre. With help from hostel staff we catch a taxi for train station but to our horror at half way Iva noticed she left her handbag at the hostel. Unfortunately taxi driver did not understand a word in English so when we say “Golden Gobi hostel” he takes us to wrong “Gobi Hotel” which happens to be located in a completely different part of Ulaanbaatar. Sweating and frustrated we stop another taxi - luckily this driver could understand few words so soon we squeeze through busy evening traffic heading back to Golden Gobi hostel (Murphy’s Law works here – Madona has a concert here tonight so traffic is unusually dense). Iva flies for her bag and shortly we are racing to train station again - some 40 minutes later. Well, we just made it in time and train starts to move while we organize our pack in the coupe. Hush! What a relief. We deserve a drink. Or two….

Mongolia is beautiful example of how people, livestock and nature can co-exist together in balanced harmony. This trip exceeded all our expectations. If there is such a thing as return to the nature then Mongolia is the place.

Gallery: China

ivanci — Thu, 28 May 2009 04:27:00 GMT

China

ivanci — Sun, 19 Apr 2009 18:52:00 GMT

Our last steps in Vietnam take us from the bus to Vietnamese custom building, then in rain we need to walk 200m bridge across the river which divides two countries. Chinese officials look very strict and while Iva is checked rather quickly, my passport seems to be rising many eyebrows; I am asked to sit down and wait for "few more computer checks". I have no idea what's wrong, however ten minutes later everything seems to be ok and I am also allowed to enter China. Oh, what a bummer! We've just missed our pre-paid bus (allegedly 9 hours of comfy ride) for Kunming because of these extra checks, but station attendant finds a quick replacement - next bus for Kunming leaves in 5 minutes. Sounds good? Hm, bit sus as this vehicle reminds chicken buses we used in SA and we squeeze in last few empty seats. Outside it's still raining, windows do not seal and floor is wet, many people lit up cigarettes and road is very bumpy. Iva's first toilet break is a shocker - no doors, no walls, only five holes in concrete sharing with locals, no privacy. Two more stops later afternoon are not any better and we start to think that China might be a challenge, not to mention complete lack of english so far. Views from window are very different to what we had seen before - roads are busy with heavy trucks (not a single motorcycle in sight), landscape is dotted with heavy industry and lined up with a web of high voltage electric lines. Late afternoon we are getting hungry, food offered in local shops does not look anyhow appealing and our diet relies solely on dried stuff in our bags. Finally after twelve hours we arrive to Kunming at 10pm, tired and with cravings for a nice chinese meal. Luckily we spot a reasonably looking hotel not to far from the bus station and by 11pm we are on street again searching for a good stir-fry. Not be able to find what we want we settle for a soup with rice noodles and bits of meat look alike substance. Considering our desperate position we really had no other choice and ate it all despite excessive chili content. Our first day in China is over and it is time to go to bed - we also need to put our wrist watch forward by one hour.

Kunming is pleasantly modern and clean capitol of Yunnan province. We wake up into cloudy morning but thanks god it is not raining. Spotting a fast food restaurant with mouth watering pictures of breakfast menu we order omelete and bread sticks. Another disaster! Flour based omelete is totally soaked up with grease and bread sticks have strong odour of ammonia. We pay (well, after all we have ordered the stuff) and walk out hungry. Few biscuits and coffee back at the hotel will keep our energy level up for few more hours. Later we find few bakeries and reasonable restaurants near lake where we spend the most of the time over next couple of days - getting around town is easy with dense and efficient public bus network. Strolling around the lake or walking through shopping boulevards mainly fills our days and we are happy to move further north in Yunnan. Buses for Dali leave every half an hour and bus station is only few hundred meters from our hotel. Easy! Just point to chinese characters in Lonely Planet depicting Da Li, pay tickets and hop on the first available bus for a five hours trip.

Dali elevates our spirit to high levels - cobblestone streets and beautiful old buildings combine with relaxed happy atmosphere to make this place truly unique. This authentic historical town surrounded by high stone walls has beautiful position - from one side you can take a hike to mountains peaking at 4000m, from the other a short walk to lake which spans over 40km. As usual our first day we spend strolling around, having coffee and basically absorb vibes created by large tourist crowd, by far the mostly Chinese. This weekend Dali will host spring festival (not easter though, chinese do not know of follow christian traditions) and many market stalls pop up everywhere. We would like to hike those hills and Thursday is the day - morning looks sunny with bright blue skies. After breaky we walk through markets trying to find the entry to national park and with help of hand sings we finally there. For 60 juan (12 AUD) we get in, for another 60 we take one way cable car to the hiking trail up in mountains. What a quiet and peaceful place compared to town below! With not many tourist around we truly enjoy few hours of mostly flat or downhill trek. Strangely enough the trail is fully concreted or paved whole way so city sleekers can "hike" here as well. By late afternoon all market stalls are opened and on our way back to town we are stunned by weird stuff on display - dry snakes and frogs, scorpions, herbs, animal parts and all sorts of black magic items. Hmm, no thanks! Friday is rainy, a perfect day for internet & photos sorting and we can use computer in our hostel free of charge (Four Seasons Hostel). I noticed unusual files with .exe extension appearing on camera memory sticks and flash drives, it looks like we picked up a virus. Not happy! All computers have operating systems installed with Chinese characters and nobody here is computer literate or speaks any english. Very frustrating, maybe we can fix that tomorrow in Lijiang where we are going next.

If Dali was "wow" then historical part of Lijiang is double "wow". First moments after we step off the bus we are lost and cannot find our way - Lonely Planet map is useless but people are very helpful and there is no shortage of assistance to us. Noticing how desperate we look, one local man leads us through maze of narrow streets to accommodation we pointed. The hostel is full, we need to find an alternative and soon we find one. From this moment we can start enjoying this magic and very picturesque village spiced with Tibetian essence. But stop! First we need to clean that nasty (Trojan?) virus. Here computers are also installed in chinese and not many have any descent virus scanners. At the end of the day we decide to burn existing pictures on two DVD's and format all cards - local Kodak shop cleaned the virus beforehand. Now we can relax! Time for dinner and after stressful day we deserve something above average - smart looking restaurant with one man band looks promising. Iva ordered fried rice with chicken, I picked one of more expensive meals - Sichuan style chicken with chillies. My impatient taste buds make me to frequently peek towards kitchen, and here it comes! Meals are served and I can not believe my eyes! Chopped chicken bones with handful of dried red chillies. Where is the meat? I like spicy and hot food but my mouth is burning and I am definitely not going to crunch those bones with my teeth! I complained to waiter, then chef came surprised with my reaction and at the end we walk out without paying for this particular dish. Iva's rice was very basic but at least edible, I lost all appetite for any more chinese cuisine tonight. Our time in Lijiang is almost entirely spent on browsing through endless web of streets, small craft shops and taking many pictures. Dried Yaka meat is local specialty, with its rich meaty taste we can eat only few pieces. Restaurant Praga and Lamus-House Of Tibet soon became our favorite cafes serving good chinese and western food. We explore nice views from surrounding peaks - walking up and down fills up one day, but of course the real gem in Yunnan province is Tiger Leaping Gorge, some two hours by bus north from Lijiang. After few lazy days in town we miss hiking and this is THE place exactly for that. We start from Jane's guest house about 3pm on Tuesday 14 April, leaving our large bags with Jane - for next few days we'll need only a bare minimum. If today's weather is any indication it should be nice hike - snow covered peaks contrast with deep blue sky and there is no sign of clouds. After 6km and two hours of easy walk we arrive to Naxi family GH where we are going to stay overnight. Views of many 5000m peaks from our bedroom's window are just stunning! Chat with other hikers before dinner and get good sleep before we attempt the hardest part tomorrow morning - 28 bends winding steeply up and we are looking forward to this challenge. Exhausted when finished but definitely awarded with even more stunning views while we continue to hike on leveled part of the gorge ridge. Last few km's seem to be even more difficult then 28 bends as we need to descend to Tina's GH through fairly rough path. Today's 15km hike was definitely not boring (waterfalls, goats hopping on seemingly vertical walls, amazing rock walls going up and down, and Yangzi river thundering down below) but apparently the best part Middle Gorge is coming tomorrow, as we are told by other hikers over couple of beers in Tina's GH. Hike through Middle Gorge is not very long, total of approx 8 km is usually done in 3-4 hours, but the elevation difference is the killer. Steep descent to the bottom of canyon is a definite adrenalin blast and we both struggle with both physical and mental reserves in our bodies. Breathing is heavy and fast from excitement when we look almost vertically down to raging river. Slipping here would be very unpleasant indeed, if not fatal in some places. Finally we make it to the bottom, few more big boulders still in way between us and Tiger Leaping Stone - an enormous piece of rock in middle of river where we take some breathtaking pictures. Ceremonial wash of our faces with water from Yangzi river completes our mission and it is time to ascend back to where we started hours ago. It is very hot and we have a long way up, water we drink seems to evaporate before it can cool our bodies and we stop frequently to catch breath. Oh no, do not look down - keep your eyes up! A 20m vertical ladder adds even more spice, by 2pm we are out of canyon and certainly we deserve a beer! At 4pm we catch bus back to Lijiang for one more night, then on Sunday, 19 April we go by sleeper bus to Kunming, directly to the airport heading for Shanghai.

Basically we have only one reason to be in Shanghai - get Russian visa. Presenting emailed invitation letters (colour print) and our passports to an officer at Russian embassy seems to be going without major hick-ups and after paying 1300 yuans we are asked to return next Wednesday for visas. Hm, but today is Wednesday so what can we do whole week in Shanghai? Hang on, somebody at Tina's GH mentioned Huang Shan south-west of Shanghai, so why not to spend a week around there? Sleeping train is comfortable and clean, at 6am we arrive to Tunxi where we spend a day or two, with one day visiting nearby historical village Hong Cun. Learning about daily Huang Shan national park entry fee 200 yuans p.p. and very expensive overnight accommodation at mountains (1300 yuans per night!), we decide for one day hike only. Early start at 6am will guarantee plenty of time and we should have no problem to complete east and west trails by 6pm in order to catch a last bus back to Tang Kou. First glimpse of Huang Shan range peaks leaves little doubt as to why this area has been proclaimed as the most beautiful mountains in China. Enormous crowd of Chinese tourist is the only nuisance, sometimes we queue minutes to scramble for a lookout, but as we progressively move to western trails the crowd significantly thins out and the nature remains just for few keen. Soon we realize why - easy eastern trails get more steep and difficult here, the most of suit-dressed Chinese tourists are not prepared to hike through Grand Canyon, negotiating 500m drop and many thousands of steps in both ways, down and up. Scenery of west range is simply amazingly spectacular, this is definitely one of top highlights of our world trip! Light gray vertical rock walls, in places 300-400m in height are made accessible by means of suspended concrete paths and bridges - our senses are tested when walking on a 1m wide space with hundreds of meters below. It is quite unbelievable piece of construction and one can only wonder how it was built. The hike through canyon was in fact more challenging then we thought and we just make it to the top cable car station minutes before its closing time. Twelve hours of strenuous hike was more then enough and we gladly take cable ride down to valley instead of walking further 1500 steps downhill. Tonight we will sleep like babies, tomorrow back to Tunxi where we catch sleeper train back to Shanghai. What a wonderful week we had!

Visas are ready as promised (though the pick up time is strictly 14:00 - 14:30! Not the friendliest embassy by any means) and immediately we board the fastest train in China "Maglev" reaching 430km/hour speed on the way from Shanghai city to Pudong airport, an 8 minute trip which took over an hour by bus when we arrived to Shanghai one week ago. We need to catch 17:40 flight to Xian. Why Xian? Terracotta warriors buried under ground for over a thousand years and discovered in 70's, placed this town onto world's travel destinations. As we do not have sense of days in a week, we pick the worst possible day to visit the site - 1st May is the biggest Chinese public holiday with thousands of locals having today the same idea - visit Terracotta Warriors. Almost an hour of queuing for bus, people just everywhere and it is almost annoying but at the end of the day we enjoyed every minute. Our Chinese visa expires in five days and we still want to see Great Wall, it is time to hop on another sleeper train this one to Beijing - we just love overnight trains.

Beijing is clean and tidy, many improvements from Olympic games are still visible. Staying in City Central Hostel was good choice due to its excellent proximity to public transport, metro and train stations are nearby. Normally an easy task to buy train tickets soon becomes our nightmare as no tickets (domestic or international) to Mongolian border or Ulanbatar are available before our visas expire on 5 May. How do we get out of China in time? It is still many hundreds of kilometers to the border and we are left with only one option - sleeper bus to Erlian (last town in China) and then we'll see. We hear about hefty fines for overstaying in China, in the worst case we cross border on foot and then we'll find a hostel on the Mongolian side. With clear instructions from hostel staff in our hands we manage to get to the Muxiyuan bus station only to find out that tickets can not be issued even one day before departure, instead we need to buy them the morning of the day we want to travel. F...F...F...!!! We have wasted another half day, some things here are very illogical. Ok, calm down, we have one more day reserved for The Great Wall. We select the least visited segment Simatai, three hours bus ride from Beijing but definitely good choice - only few tourists share this unusual but admirable construction with us. Few hours of walking up and down is enough, we return to Beijing by 6pm pleasantly tired and hungry. Any nice Chinese food tonight? Why not the famous Peking Duck? Tasty but little bit too fatty.

4th May morning we go back to the bus station for tickets leaving our backpacks at the hostel so we can walk around town lightly. By 5pm we leave Beijing on bus which is not the cleanest and best smelling. Hmm, it is also very warm evening and it might be a challenging travel. Twelve hours later we are dumped into very cold morning in sleepy Erlian, no shops opened, no people around, nowhere to worm up and the border apparently closed till 8am. Brrr... we keep warm by walking and incidentally we find the train station, however cannot get any decent answer from staff as to what time any train would leave for Mongolia. Well, that should not be surprising, past thirty days we struggled to communicate in many ways - sometimes we felt that locals expect us to speak Chinese. Two hours later we make decision - let's cross the border on foot and be done with this drama! Big mistake! Uniformed border officer tries to explain something (in Chinese, of course) and from his body language we understand that he is not letting us walk through the gate. Standing there for half an hour we are confused and not sure what is wrong. Finally we take a taxi back to the train station from where we are navigated to some obscure street shop for Mongolian train tickets. Very bizare day indeed! We leave China on 5 May at 4pm with no hustles about passport formalities.

Our picture of China is marked with major observations - enormous industrial progress gives Chinese people high sense of pride and national identity but the same aspect seems to make them self-centric. We could not resist our feelings that China does not need to interact with the rest of world, they are self sufficient in every way. Very large tourism industry seems to be strongly promoted by local advertising but only for Chinese tourist - any needs of foreigners are almost completely neglected. People on street were helpfull when asked for direction, children were very shy when photographed, Chinese have the fastest train in the world (?) but toilets are the worst we have seen. Food did not come to expectations as to what we are used to, national heritage is amazing and admirable. China is country of extremes and we are glad to have chance knowing that.

Gallery: Vietnam

ivanci — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 17:32:00 GMT

Vietnam

ivanci — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 17:39:00 GMT

Young tuk-tuk driver gives assurances once more that he is going to take us directly to border, and the ride should not take more then 2.5 hours. Leaving Kampot at 11am we enjoy local villages, kids running towards us calling "Hello" and scenery of distant hills. Suddenly an hour in ride the tuk-tuk driver makes an unexpected turn into narrow dirt road going through vast rice fields, and without presence of any other traffic Iva starts to think about the worst - is he going to take us to some remote corner and with help of few accomplices to rob us? Or perhaps worse? Some 5km later he stops amongst few bamboo huts explaining that he is unable to drive any further due to very rough road conditions ahead. Instead few motorbike drivers standing around will finish last two kilometers for free. We pay him agrred fee and he is quickly gone. We soon realise that ten minutes earlier a group of two young couples from Finland arrived by the same means, they are astonished by situation. There are only four 125ccm motorbikes available and six of us to be taken to the border, and with all our bags! We refuse an option all of us to be taken on four bikes and they eventually agree to call for two more. Further confussion arrises as they want to be paid USD5 for each moto because border is 10km distant, not two. "Ohh, tuk-tuk drivers always lie" they laugh. Very frustrated and uncertain we have no other option then to agree, being stuck in middle of nowhere in south Cambodia, we cannot walk 10km with 20kg hanging of our bodies. Situation looks very fishy as locals are not allowed to help although few sit nearby on their own motorbikes - we realise our drivers are all Vietnameese and this gang holds power here. Finaly we are on the move and by 3pm we arrive to the first town in Vietnam - Ha Tien. Very hot and humid afternoon, we gladly take shower and leave hotel searching for delicious Vietnameese coffee which is not as easy to find as we thought - the town is neither "tourist friendly" nor interesting. Ha Tien border crossing has been opened to foreigners for only last two years and not many backpackers have discovered it, yet it is an excellent entry point to south-west Vietnam, Phu Quoc island and Mekong delta. We meet our new Finish friends at dinner (in the one and only local restaurant here) and talk about trip to Phu Quoc island over few Saigon beers. As usual we choose D.I.Y. strategy (gee, how many times we burnt our fingers!?) and on Tuesday 10 March we board a 9am local slow boat. Very slow and very authentic. Some may say very "rustic", seems to be flating because it's made from timber. Being the only foreign tourists on boat we are invited to share top-deck floor with captain and few of his mates. Soon they start to play cards, and getting excited about game captain sometimes forgets to check the course, steering wheel with his right foot. I quietly assume responsibility and make sillent but noticable signs when we head too much towards solid land. As weird as this boat looks we enjoy their company, being offered to join card game, cigarets or fruit, we accept only fruit. Finally we land at 4pm in far northern tip of the island and without any decent map we have no idea how we are supposed to get to Duong Dong, long beach with accommodation. Absolutely nobody speaks any english, we even suspect locals have never seen tourists before. Every our question is repplied with a laughter and we do not understand such reactions. No wonder we are frustrated and confused. Repeatadly saying "Duong Dong" over and over again, someone finaly shows signs of undestanding. Motorbike taxi pulls out two 100,000 dong notes (USD 12) indicating he would take us there but we think it is far too much. We paid such amount for whole boat trip! How far is it? Which way should we go? We do not have answers to our questions and instinctivelly we start walking out of the village hoping that some magic solution will materialise soon. As we walk on dirt road, a truck stops offering a lift to town for 150,000 dongs for both. Well, that is better then 200,000 and besides we have (once again!) no other option so we accept. Apparently it is 45km to Duong Dong centre and further 50,000 to Long Beach. Our total cost from Ha Tien to Long Beach amounts to 480,000 dongs (9 hours on move). Later tonight we learn that each Finish couple paid 430,000 for the same trip with speed boat (3 hours on move). When we came to the beach hungry and tired at 7pm they had already finished lunch, swimming, sunbaking and dinner. Morale of the story? Cheaper is not always the cheapest! Same same but different! Last 48 hours were realy exhaustive and nerve wrecking - Iva has cold sores all over her lips probably triggered by stress, but everything is fine now and we are determined to enjoy Phu Quoc. We will stay in nice resort bungallow some 300m from the beach (12 USD per night) for next four nights. Dinner on the beach is perfect gift for my special day as I am turning 55 today, and guess what? Young Finish quartet surprise me with candle, beer and Happy Birthday signing. Very nice, thanks guys! We enjoy their company many times again over next few days, including snorkling trip to nearby archipelago. Today is Friday the 13th, our last day on Phu Quoc. Hiring 110ccm motorbike we explore north-east side of this 100km accross island, passing through pretty rough terrain and shaky bamboo bridges. We can only imagine how difficult it may be here during wet season - parts of road are completely washed off leaving 10-20m deep mini-canyons. We are lucky to see few green peppercorn farms on the way, locals sun dry pepper on tarps and indeed little black balls have strong taste. Cashew nut trees are abundant, sun dried fish is not so pleasant. Completely covered with red dust we return bike around seven and after shower we end up in beach restaurant for farewell party with Finish quartet. At 6am two motorbike-taxis + minibus transfer us to speedboat which will take about 4 hours to reach Rach Gia on the mainland. Immediately we board 3 hours (squashed at back - very uncomfortable) minibus for Kan Tho, one of many town in Mekong delta. Tomorrow morning we would like to see floating markets and afternoon catch bus for Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC), or Saigon by old name. Four hour boatride to floating markets starts at 7am when very tiny old man picks us from the hotel and takes us to very tiny old boat. What, such small boats are allowed on such big river? Yes, and he is very skilled dodging wash waves from large ships passing by. Mainly fruit and veggie products are traded, handreds of hands transfer goods from boat to boat and whole place sounds like large beehive. We can even buy hot coffee from floating cafe shop. We return back to town via few quiet canals, suddenly the river buzz is replaced with tranquility of green nature. It is only two of us, palms and happy grin on captain's face. He stops in one of local gardens for exotic fruit tasting and little educational tour. Here we see cinamon, palm fruit, lyches and many other tasty fruits of which we forgot names as soon as we heard them. We say good buy to tiny man and after lunch we heading off to HCMC. Approaching HCMC we are stunned seeing millions of motorbikes sharring road with large vehicles in very chaotic way - overtaking, dodging others and constantly pushing horns, they fill up gaps between large vehicles and we are amazed there are no accidents. As soon as we step out of our bus at terminal, a swarm of taxi drivers try to score jobs but we refuse $20 offer as we spot local bus going to Pham Ngu Lao area for only $0.50. Bingo! At 9pm we are dropped off and we immediately like this area with many cafes, restaurants and guesthouses of all kinds. We stay in Saigon for only two nights, mainly to enjoy food and city's flavour - and it is plenty of it here.

Tuesday 17th March we are taking bus to beach town Mui Ne on east coast of Vietnam where we hope to soak up some sun. Pleasant views from four hour bus ride offer green rice fields stretching to infinity and just before Mui Ne farms with dragon fruit cactai become frequent. Resorty Mui Ne welcomes us with hot and windy weather. One can find accommodation here from $10 to $1000 per night, guess where we stayed? Spotlessly clean room with bar fridge, air-con, hot water shower and TV for $10 is not bad deal at all. Looking for a cafe shop we see many menues written in russian azbuka and we hear many tourist speak russian - what is going on here? Mui Ne must have become popular holiday destination for rich russians and that theory is later confirmed by few locals. At dinner we meet a Czech couple Radim and Katka, we share many life views and our chatting ends around midnight. Next day we all four of us hire two motorbikes going to explore sand dunes, beaches and lakes. On short strip of a dirt road I spend too much time sightseeing instead looking right in front of me which does not pay off well - front wheel hits small rock and we loose balance falling on right side with bike resting over our legs. Luckily no bones stick out and we walk off only with few bruises, scratches and one blister on my right foot caused by exhaust pipe. Motor bike seems to be ok so no major damage is done, bit shaky we finish our trip in mid afternoon with a nice caffee on the beach. One more dinner with new Czech friends and while they are leaving at midnight by bus we go to bed for last sleep in Mui Ne - tomorrow to inland Dalat.

Road to Dalat winds up to 1500m through nice hills covered with coffee, artichock and many other vegatable farms - agriculture in Vietnam seems to be in very good shape as many farms have two-storey modern family houses. Dalat town also indicates relative well being of locals and we do not see any homeless people. We are nicely surpriced when bus dropped us off at luxury looking hotel for $10 a night - we expected some sort of scam but it did not eventuate, including unlimited free internet. Walking around hilly Dalat is relaxing but somewhat puzzling as roads and narrow side lanes seem to have no direction. Original plan to hire motorbike here is out of question as our wounds and bones have not settled yet so we decide to take it easy. I bought antibiotic cream for my right foot, the blister raptured and does not show any signs of healing. Highlite from Dalat? Hand silk embroidery is beyond our beleif, we spend two hours in local galery admiring the artwork - we are invited to vitness patient and highly precise work of girls in their classroom upstairs. Trully unbeleivable stuuf!

The first day of spring we head off back to coast and our next fun place is Nha Trang. Long town beach is lined up with palms and few expensive restaurants (although very tasty the coffee was more expensive then in Sydney), however we keep our choices much wider by stroling streets away from the beachfront. Roof-top sitting at our $10/night hotel offers magnificent views of ocean dotted with many islands. Apparently this is one of the best snorkling/diving locations in Vietnam so we can not miss opportunity to visit few main islands. Sunday we spend day on a charter boat (many more locals then gringos) taking us to four different coral bays. After traditional vietnamese lunch prepared by the crew we are invited for happy hour drinks in water - participants get floating tube and receive unlimited quantity of (drinkable) local red wine. Captain called Happy Hour off when some local guys started to drift too far from the boat, and we continued our happy sailing. The highlite of this trip must be live 2-crew-band entertainment: drummer played drums (and I mean real plastic drums of various sizes) and guitarist/signer was realy good.

Tonight we leave Nha Trang on an overnight sleeper bus (only bunk beds, no seats) to arrive in Hoi An at 7am after not so sleepy night. Bus stops in front of a nice hotel but we think $15 is too much so I search few streets around for an alternative while Iva stays with bags. Half an hour later we check in a hotel which is just next door from where we stopped this morning. All the same same but different. This time I managed to bargain down to $12. What is this town famous for? Virtually hundreds of tailors and shoe maker shops, they measure and deliver in 24 hours! Girls beware! We see many travelers buying extra suitcase for custom made garments. We limit ourselves to one pair of sandals and Iva bought custom made long silk pants. One day we visit ruins My Son (bombed by US forces in the war), another day we just walk around munching on vietnamese meals - our favoured are Wontons at Mr.Hung's stall at markets. Absolutely delicious! We could easily stay here for many more days but time is runnig out and we need to move again. On Thursday 26 March afternoon we leave Hoi An to Hue where we immediately transfer to another sleeper bus going to Ha Noi overnight.

Arrival to rainy Ha Noi at 7am is somewhat mellow and we ask ourselves "Is Ha Long Bay going to be the same?", but we have few days up in our sleeves so hopefuly weather may clear up. Taxi from bus station takes us right to town centre and we are offered simple and cheap room (not so clean) in almost perfect position near lake. Coffee is a must, we realy like Vietnameese brew, and after breaky we start to explore lake side and maze of streets around. On the way we buy new camera Lumix TZ5 (we still have the old crapy Samsung though) as we always wanted this model. With its 10x zoom taking pictures of elusive local faces will be even easier, but it's not always me who chases exotic characters -group of gigling Vietnamese approached me to be part of their photos. It looks like we must be exotic to them as well. And what else do we see in Ha Noi? Of course, famous Ha Long Vay which is about two hours bus ride away. We also need to organise 30-days Mongolian visa, however tonight we receive a reply email from the embassy - opening days for visa applications are only Tue and Thursday and today is Friday! Missed by one day - not happy! That means we need to stay in Ha Noi until next Thursday to pick them up. Well, it is not so bad after all, we'll have plenty of time for fun and we may even visit uncle Ho's mausoleum and war museum.

Hearing many different stories about Ha Long Bay packages we decide for a middle range two-day/one night boat cruise (USD70 pp). Sunday morning we join other 10 travellers in a pick-up minibus and we are on the way! Can not wait to see this natural wander! Unfortunately weather has not cleared up and heavy grey overcast hangs over the bay. By midday we are transferred to beautiful and stylish sailing boat where we enjoy a wellcoming drink before we receive keys to our private cabins. Very luxurious room with en-suite is a nice surprise, meals served on a middle deck resturant are excelent and this trip looks very promising. Few hours sailing are needed to arrive at spectacullar cave Hang Sung Sot which we explore for about an hour. Afternoon ends with two hours cayaking to nearby islands and we are realy hungry by now. Multi course delicious dinner including seafood, salads and fruit provides ideal setting for a chat with our new companions. More sailing after breakfest, Iva gets foot massage and by midday we return back to Ha Long Bay town. After last meal together we all board minibus back to Ha Noi. Tuesday morning we take local bus (#53) from the lake and twenty minutes later we talk to Mongolian ambasador (well, he looked like an ambasador), fill up neccessary paperwork and pay USD30 each. Searching for good vietnamese food we come accross 'Little Hanoi' restaurant in a narrow lane, later we discover more 'Little Hanois' around the town but only two (No.9 and 14) serve outstanding food. War museum and Ho Chi Min's mausoleum provides small insight into history and national psyche of Vietnamese people, the rest of our spare time we just walk around streets and enjoy wibes and colours of this charismatic metropole, though very noisy. My foot does not look better, it appears to be infected and walking in full shoes causes some discomfort. Today 1st April (!) we saw glimps of sun but for only short time and afternoon it is raining again. As we need to kill more time we resort to 'Water Puppett Show' in local theatre - a traditional, cute almost childish show makes us laugh though. Thursday, our last day in Ha Noi we pack up bagpacks, buy sleeper-train tickets to Sapa and afternoon we need to pick up passports with visas. After last dinner at our favoured Little Hanoi restaurant, with bags on our backs we head off to train station where we board overnight train to our last destination in Vietnam. Crossing rail tracks we finaly locate our train on platform #9, and we hope that we'll sleep in one of those few luxury soft-sleeper 4-berth cabins which we paid for. To our dissappointment female train conductor points our direction to a shaby looking carriage with 6-berth hard-sleeper cabins. "Is she correct?" we are asking ourselves. "This is not possible, we have paid for soft beds, and only four people in each cabin". "No, that is what ticket shows" is her reply in a body language as she does not speak any english. Now we understand! The guy at the desk in 'Hanoi Centre One Hotel' pocketted difference between what we paid him for, and what he spent when he went to train station for our tickets. Big mistake - we should have bought tickets ourselves. Interestingly enough, it was the same guy who organised our Halong Bay trip with what we were very happy, but this time we were not coming back from Sapa and he knew that. That is why he took the opportunity to cheat us. Anyway, other then tossing on uncomfortable hard bed the trip was ok and four other chineese guys who shared the cabin with us did not snore or misbehave. We arrive to Lao Cai at 5am, from here minibus winds up to SaPa in high mountains. Much cooler morning (12C) then we are used to from the tropical coast and hot breakfest is quite handy while we wait for hotel rooms to become available.

Sapa village is located on slopes of beautiful mountain range in north west Vietnam. Local H'Mong tribes living in suurounds come every day to town, dressed in traditional colorful clothing and offering their handmade craft on streets or at markets. Many young mums having babies wrapped in blankets on their backs are very friendly and frequently ask lot of questions about us, they are very sweet and keep smiling even if we do not buy anything. My foot is not fit for any long hikes so we spend first day walking around village and taking pictures of valley with its rice field cascades, in times shrouded in mist and rolling clouds. Of course, there are ample opportunities to photograph natives from all possible angels and I actualy quite enjoy that. Next day after stormy night we walk up to a lookout hill within local national park, passing through many beautiful gardens and landscapes. It is unbeleivable that after sooo much rain during last night skies clear by ten and we have nice sunny day.

Tomorrow we'll take one hour bus to the border with China and say good bye to Vietnam. About one month ago our entry to this country did not start at the best but today our views are different and we regard Vietnam as one of the most beautiful, colourful, charismatic and friendly countries in our world trip. Despite many previous negative warnings from other backpackers we did not experience any major troubles and positive feelings overweigh everything else.