The world through my eyes

Gallery: The end?

paul_byrom — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 16:46:00 GMT

The end?

paul_byrom — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 16:35:00 GMT

Apparently, there's no place like home.

The more places I see though, the less I feel as though there's a place called home.

You lot. My family and friends. You're my home, and there are no people like you.

Tomorrow's the day to get back on the plane, and although I have absolutely no idea what happens next, it'll be great to be home.

See you soon.

Gallery: Bankok-Ko Phangan

paul_byrom — Sun, 8 Mar 2009 19:47:00 GMT

Gallery: Bankok

paul_byrom — Sun, 8 Mar 2009 19:41:00 GMT

Bankok-Ko Phangan

paul_byrom — Sun, 8 Mar 2009 19:16:00 GMT

Slightly aware that I may have focussed on the less desirable aspects of my Bankok experience, I feel as though I should mention that although it is a hugely overcrowded city, the people there were so friendly and welcoming that despite the different surroundings, I never felt intimidated by the people.

I was able to appreciate the sprawl of Bankok as I left on the bus to Ko Phangan.

Ko Phangan is a small island (190 sq km) about 700 hundred km south of Bankok.

As the bus progressed southward, the land became increasingly mountainous and tropical. The local villages consisted of small clusters of shacks , where people were all gathered outside socializing.

As the only Westerner on the bus and the only English speaker, I had a pretty interesting time, but managed to get all the way to Ko Phangan using hand gestures and broken Thai.

When I first arrived in Phangan a little dazed and confused, I jumped onto a local's pick up truck and got a ride into Haad Rin where I'd planned to stay.

All seemed to be going incredibly smoothly when I saw a sign for the Muay Thai school, but, unable to get through the gate I went into the adjacent building, thinking that must be where the accomodation was.

I was greeted by a friendly lady who sat me down and asked what I wanted. I asked if I could stay, but there seemed to be some confusion.

After a few minutes of not making much progress, a younger lady was called out to help. Her name was Pokiy, and thankfully she spoke good English and was able to explain that I was in the wrong place.

Pokiy gave me a lift on her moped to Kobra Muay Thai, where I'm now staying with Master Kongpipop and his family.

Of course, I didn't realise that I'd been asking if I could stay for two weeks in a brothel. It did take some explaining to Master Kongpipop when we passed the brothel last night on the way to a Muay Thai match, and all the ladies called my name and waved.

I'm being well looked after now though. And during the day, we train hard before sitting in a circle on the floor and eating delicious Thai food in the evening.

When I'm not training, I explore the island on a rented moped, which is quite an experience. There are no road rules whatsoever, and only around half of the roads are sealed.

It's a fun way to get about and allows me to see lots. I'll take my camera out nexy time so you can see the island too.

Bankok

paul_byrom — Thu, 5 Mar 2009 03:34:00 GMT

The streets are lined with buildings that look as though they ought to be condemned.

Street traders fry fish, chicken, insects and frogs as the many delapidated vehicles that pass spew out their noxous fumes.

Stray dogs and feral cats roam the streets, considering whether or not to beg for food, or perhaps attack, whilst tuk tuk drivers conspire to take you for All you've got.

Don't be distracted though, or you'll trip down a sewer, be electricuted by a live wire dangling at head height from a pylon, or skewered on a jagged piece of metal protruding from the ground. An architect's long forgotten unfinished project, no doubt.

This place is dangerous.

But I love it!

At first it was scary, but I faced it. The reward was the enjoyment of seeing a forty metre tall Budha. Loads of shrines and temples of all kinds. Crazy architecture, and hectic bustling markets.

I rode a crowded river bus in the foul smelling waters, and saw the same fish which are fried at the roadside in their natural habitat...Nasty. I also saw a Muay Thai fight.

The sights, the smells, the noise, the heat and the emotions. It's sensory overload like I've never experienced before.

This is travelling as it should be!

Rainbow beach-Cairns-Sydney

paul_byrom — Tue, 3 Mar 2009 10:16:00 GMT

Again, the time flew by, and our last week in Australia passed in a flash!

The first stop after Rainbow beach was Hervey bay, where we met Ellie's sister Emma and her family before taking a bike ride along the esplanade to a long pier where we saw scools of tuna, big flatheads and a couple of dolphins.

Off the coast of Hervey bay is the southern most point of the barrier reef, so the local waters have lots of marine life.

From Hervey bay we continued on north to a town called seventeen seventy. The grass got greener, the rain fell harder and the mosquitoes got fatter.

James Cook wasn't feeling in an imaginative mood when he discovered the town of seventeen seventy in 1770, I guess.

Despite the rubbish name it was a great spot, and we really made the most of it by going on a motorbike tour, surfing and sea kayaking before going on to a place called Kroombit to stay at a cattle station.

Kroombit was a lot of fun. We rode horses and mustered goats, participated in a goat rodeo, shot rifles, cracked whips, painted our faces, rode a bull and stayed up late playing games with our fellow travellers.

Beyond that, we stayed for one night at a place called Airlie beach. There's not much at Airlie, and it seems as though most people use it as a stepping stone to the whitsunday islands, which we sadly had to miss due to a lack of time.

Magnetic island was our next stop. Again discovered by Captain Cook who was inspired to name it as such when his compass went on the squiff as he sailed by.

It's 50% national park, and supplied us with some good hiking ground for the afternoon that we spent there before going on up to Mission beach.

Nobody ever figured out why Captain Cook's compass went wrong.

The first settlement in Mission beach was during the stolen generation of Australian history.

Aboriginal children were taken from their families and educated in the ways of western culture so as to make them 'civilised'. This education took place in Christian missions, hence the name Mission beach.

A tropical storm flattened Mission beach, and it wasn't rebuilt until after the aboriginal assimilation program ended in 1972.

Mission beach pretty much relies on tourism now. It has lots of pretty islands off it's shores and has the majority of the world's wild casawaries. An aggressive blue necked, boney crowned emu like critter that desperately wants to kill every other living thing with it's long talons.

There are 1500 left on the planet, and we actually got to see a wild one! Sadly, I took the picture on Ellie's camera so you guys don't get to see it here. Perhaps check Ellie's blog thing!

The reason for our stay in Mission beach was to dive on the barrier reef but our trip was cancelled, so we took a short boat ride across to one of the islands off the coast. there was a resort there, so we pretended we were staying there and used their tennis courts and cafe's.

From Mission beach, Ellie and I went to Cairns where we had our last evening meal before getting up at stupid o clock to fly back to Sydney.

After an exciting day of waiting in the airport, it was time for Ellie to head home, so now I'm back in the same hostel in Sydney and it's my last morning here.

Now this story is written, I'm going to jump on a train and head to the airport. Next stop, Bankok!

Gallery: rainbow beach and beyond

paul_byrom — Wed, 25 Feb 2009 22:25:00 GMT

running out of time.

Gallery: Byron-Rainbow beach

paul_byrom — Mon, 16 Feb 2009 15:44:00 GMT

further up the sunshine coast

Byron-Rainbow beach

paul_byrom — Mon, 16 Feb 2009 15:20:00 GMT

Surfer's paradise was our next stop after Byron, and to be honest, it didn't really live up to it's name.

After a couple of days being charged a heavy tourist tax at every turn, Ellie and I were happy to be rolling again.

The next stop was Brisbane, which we decided to give a flying visit on the advice of our bus driver. I think he may have been judging Brisbane a little harshly though, and after an evening of walking through beautiful parks, through streets lined with interesting architecture and enjoying the view from the riverside, I was a little sad to not have the time to explore a little further.

Noosa was the next stop, right at the northern end of the sunshine coast. It was a nice little place, with just the right blend of liveliness and places to escape.

We took long walks through the national park on the headland, enjoyed the coastal views, hired longboards and spent an afternoon 'hanging ten' before spending our last day in the safety and warmth of a couple of cafes, as the rain pelted down outside.

Now we're in Rainbow beach. Named as such because of the many minerals in the sand which give the beaches so many colours.

Yesterday we took a seven minute barge ride (catching the dorsal fins of a few dolphins on the way) to a 120km by 15km foliated sandbar called Fraser island.

Fraser's a beautiful place, filled with crystal clear lakes and awesome scenery.

There, we took walks and swam in the aforementioned lakes, had a quick ride in a plane and even had a close encounter with a dingo!

It was a wonderful afternoon in a great place, which was named after the captain of a ship that was wrecked just north of the island in 1836. Captain Fraser survived, and returned to the mainland thanks to the help of the native aboriginal people who's name for the island 'K'gari' literally means 'paradise' which seems much more appropriate to me!

Gallery: Sydney-Byron Bay

paul_byrom — Sat, 7 Feb 2009 18:38:00 GMT

hitting the beach

Sydney-Byron Bay

paul_byrom — Thu, 5 Feb 2009 19:04:00 GMT

It's been another week or so of frenzious activity here in Australia shire, which all began with the arrival of my friend Ellie on the 28th of January.

Since then, we've thoroughly explored all the good bits of Sydney, gotten bored in a museum which was a little bereft of exhibits, gone disco bowling with Cousin Simon and his partner Cynthia (we love you guys!), zipped around on Simon's scooter, visited the blue mountains and seen in the Chinese New Year without a great deal of style, all before jumping on the bus to a beautiful place called Byron Bay.

Byron's such a nice spot, and just what we need after the fast pace of Sydney life.

We're here for a few days, so I'm making the most of the waves, while Ellie's beach time makes her complexion somewhat reminiscent to that of a lobster. Poor thing.

Gallery: Melbourne-Sydney

paul_byrom — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 16:26:00 GMT

Melbourne to Sydney

paul_byrom — Fri, 23 Jan 2009 18:39:00 GMT

Aahh, the last week or so in Melbourne was so much fun, it was a bit sad to leave in the end!

Prior to Pete's return, I explored all the quirky nooks of the city, went to the cinema, rode the free tourist bus, lost an entire afternoon in the museum not leaving 'til I was ushered out at closing time and spent a day in Geelong watching the bay criteriums from the comfort of the roadside whilst eating ice cream. Much better than suffering with all the cyclists!

When Pete got back, we made the most of his confused body clock by spending a night out with our friend Dan, dancing and drinking too much sambuca. The unfortunate consequences of which inspired me to repeat the words 'never again' for the entirety of the following day.

After that we spent the weekend on the beach, did some surfing and ate a family serving of fish and chips between us.

Next it was time to move on, so at 06:30 on a sunny Tuesday morning, I rode the bus to the beautiful Wilson's promontory and then on to a place called Lakes entrance, where I camped out for a few days and made the most of some big scary waves.

After those few days of solitude, the bus ride on up to Sydney was quite welcome, and made even better by the fact that there were only seven other travellers on the bus, so we ended up being quite a close little family.

Together we climbed Australia's highest mountain, salsa danced on the tables 'til the early hours and visited parliament house in Canberra before finally arriving in Sydney a couple of days later. After a final evening together, we had a tearful farewell and went off in our own separate directions to continue with our adventures independantly.

Now I'm here in Sydney, and just about coping with the contrasting lifestyle of the city after spending so long in the sticks, whilst eagerly anticipating the arrival of my friend Ellie who's been planning to visit Australia, so we're going to enjoy the adventure together for a while. Hooray!

Hobart and the west coast

paul_byrom — Sat, 3 Jan 2009 15:57:00 GMT

First things first. I need to do my duty as a Brit and have a moan about the weather.

The west coast of Tasmania really did live up to the warnings that I received before going there, and was pretty unfriendly. The other duty which I successfully completed as a tourist was to be terribly unprepared. Shorts, t-shirts and a less than waterproof tent pretty much saw to that one.

Of course, with the weather being the way it was, I didn't stop too often to take pictures, preffering to battle on against the wind and rain.

There, that's the moaning out of the way, so now I can tell you about all the great times I've had. To do that, we need to go back to December the 23rd and Hobart...

After breakfast I took a boat trip around the harbour, and in the afternoon I took a tour of the rivulet which runs below the city, all the way from Mt Wellington to the river Derwent.

On Christmas eve I took a trip with a trainee vet from New York who I met at the hostel, called Erik. We went to the base of Mt Wellington and the Cascade brewery, which utilizes the mountain's fresh water before it reaches the city. Afterward, Erik and I hiked up the mountain.

Christmas day seemed like a good time to make a move, so I headed north to Russell falls and Lady Barron falls in the Mount Field national park. That evening I camped beside meadowbank lake.

Boxing day was a tough one, and after an entire day of climbing 950 metres above sea level to a place called Derwent Bridge, I took a break. The intention had been to carry on only another 6km to a place called Lake St Clair. I would have made it easily, but the only place to stop and take a break was a country pub. Three pints later, and I could've been talked into anything, so the barman had no trouble in convincing me to stop at the pub for the night.

The 27th was another fun filled and action packed day. I backtracked 1km to visit a beautiful wooden sculpture called 'the wall in the wilderness'. It's carved from three metre high slabs of pine and tells about the history of life in the central highlands of Tasmania. The artists name is Greg Duncan. He's a very talented man, but ultimately is a man like any other in that his projects become 'ongoing'. The wall isn't finished yet some four years after he started, but so far so good! I wasn't allowed to take pictures though. Boo!

From there I carried on the ride to Lake St Clair, which was just mind bogglingly beautiful and offered lots of hiking opporunities, so I decided to stay. By the time I got there, it was about 11am. Plenty of time for a short walk before lunch, and then time to tackle the supposed 7 hour hike up to and around the peak of Mt Rufus.

It was 3:30 when I started up the mountain, figuring that the 7 hour allowance was taking tourist speed into account and I'd be fine. I was a bit nervous on the way back down when I found the 3 hours to go sign.. The sun was getting pretty low, so the final stretch ended up being a kind of half run, but every now and then and root or fallen branch would slither out of the way and into the foliage. Imagine a kind of tentative anxious type of half run, with me hoping to not get bitten on the ankle for stepping on a tail.

After Lake St Clair came queenstown which was a bit of a ghost town. It was prosperous in the 1900's as a mining town. The surrounding hills have been stripped of vegetation by decades of mining exhaust fumes. I was reminded of a wild west movie.

From there I went to a place called Zeehan, which sounds like something from a Buck Rogers story to me. It was actually the name of the ship belonging to Dutch seaman Abel Tasman who claimed the west coast as his discovery.

The following few days were spent doing battle with the elements and only stopping to eat or sleep. There is a trail of empty cafes all around Tasmania to prove it.

New years eve was spent at Cradle mountain, which was beautiful, but cold and wet. So by 9:30 I was tucked up in bed with a trashy romance novel. Pretty wild new year's eve eh?!

And now, finally I'm back in melbourne. Going to stay here for the week and wait for Pete to show up, so we can do some coffee drinking, cake eating and chatting before heading off on the next stage of the adventure!

The details of the adventure as always, are with the pictures. Hope you enjoy them.

I hope you all had a great Christmas and a fun new year to make up for my rather tame one.

Love.

Gallery: Hobart and the west coast

paul_byrom — Fri, 2 Jan 2009 17:04:00 GMT

Leaving a trail of empty cafes.

Gallery: the east coast

paul_byrom — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 12:36:00 GMT

beautiful places and smiling faces

The east coast. Beautiful places and smiling faces.

paul_byrom — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 11:44:00 GMT

Ok, so. Where did I leave you guys? Ah yes, that was it, the bay of fires.

So my little jaunt from st Helens to the bay of fires was wonderful. The blue water, white beaches and lichen covered granite rocks were all absolutely beautiful. Captain Tobias Furneaux named the bay of fires as his ship sailed in in 1773 and he saw all the aboriginal fires burning.

From St Helens, I slowly but surely made my way south along the coast to a little seaside town called Bicheno for more blue sea, more white beaches and more orange rocks. The most important discovery in Bicheno however, was made in the bicheno backpackers. Matt and Hanna of the Bicheno backpackers are some of the world's most special people and an absolutely awesome team together. They looked after me, got me a bit drunk on alcoholic ginger beer (yummy), and generally made my stay in Bicheno one squillion times better than it would've been otherwise. Thankyou guys!

From Bicheno, I took a day to ride to the Freycinet national park to walk through the eucalypt forests, over pink granite mountains and to enjoy the peaceful and beautiful wineglass bay. I did all of that, then got lost, ran out of water and got very frightened. Still, I'm safe now and made it out of there, so all's well that ends well.

From Bicheno, I continued south and stopped off in a little port town called Triabunna, where I ate almost everything that ever lived in the sea battered and fried and yummy, right next to the boat that it had come in on that very same afternoon. Sorry, little fishies.

The next couple of days took me on a rather bold detour to a historical (ahem..anything pre dating the mobile phone is of historical interest to a white person from Australia) place called Port Arthur.

After a boneshaking day of riding over unsealed roads, I arrived at Port Arthur which was used as a prison from 1830-1877. In that time 12,500 convicts served sentences, 1 out of 7 prisoners died. Pretty gruesome place.

The grounds were pretty and I took lots of pictures to make sure I got my 28 dollars worth. That was the first financial tourist burn situation of the trip so far, but after over 100kms of riding there, only to have to backtrack up to Hobart on the following day, there was no way I was going to not go in.

Anyway, now I'm in Hobart feeling a bit hassled by the hustle and bustle and looking forward to getting back out into the countryside again in a couple of days.

Tour of Tasmania stages 1,2 and 3. Mishaps and lack of preparation.

paul_byrom — Mon, 15 Dec 2008 10:44:00 GMT

Well, it's been a pretty interesting few days. There are pictures, but they'll have to wait 'til I've found a clever computer.

the ferry ride over was a challenge, and offered a similar level of discomfort to the plane journey to Australia! I settled for the budget option, and chose to travel in a sea view recliner. this meant sitting next to three drunken tourists from Germany, all singing chart hits from the 90's as loudly as they could. With hindsight, it was kind of funny. At the time, I wasn't laughing.

The ferry pulled in to Devonport at 06:45 so I went about the business of drinking copious amounts of coffee to prepare myself for the 100km ride to Launceston.

I took the main highway, battling the wind and appreciating the running joke that all lorry drivers seem to share, where they take great pleasure in watching me jump as they honk their horn whilst passing. Grumble, grumble.

I was a nervous wreck by the time the welcome to Launceston sign came into view, but knew the next day would more than make up for it.

So, day two. 170kms through beautiful lavender fields, spread over the countryside like freshly laundered bedsheets, beautiful alpine views and peaceful country roads. Sounds pretty nice eh?! Now picture that, but with the heaviest sideways rain you could ever imagine, the headwind from hell and a rather sore saddle type area (the cycle shorts hadn't dried too well overnight in the rain).

It was a rollercoaster of a ride in more ways than one. Intoxicated by the sweet smelling lavender farms. Aware of numb fingers. Awestruck by a moment of eye contact with a beautiful wedgetail eagle, perched high in a tree. Hungry and out of food. Dazzled by a family of rainbow lorikeets flying across my path. Annoyed by the creaking and groaning of the bike (Which idiot built that thing!)... You get the picture.

After just 65kms of freezing cold conditions, and just as i was contemplating taking a nap at the side of the road, I came into a small township in the country called Scottsdale, where a kind landlady let me stay above her pub. She even cleaned and dried my clothes!

By 9pm, well fed and beered, I went to bed feeling very glad of the electric blanket.

Day 3 was much better and I sauntered along, taking pictures as I went, tracing the edges of the Dorset river, passing through old mining townships and stopping for cups of tea. Seven hours later, and i arrived in St Helens on the east coast, where I'll stay for a day off the bike to do some sightseeing.

Speaking of which, I'd better get on with that now. Been sat at this computer too long and time's a wastin'.

Gallery: Tour of Tasmania stages 1,2 and 3.

paul_byrom — Mon, 15 Dec 2008 10:44:00 GMT

freewheeling whenever possible.