Follow the Sun....

Adios Barca

2007-03-29T17:22:00.000Z

Adios indeed.. TEFL course is finished (all bar the drinking). We are now qualified teflers.
It was tough. There was lots of work, 7 or 8 teaching practices and constant projects to keep handing in. Oh - and then there was the grammar exam. But we´ve got through it and will both be certified tomorrow. Not before time.

Barca is still fine - it´s been surprisingly cold at night, but now it´s beginning to warm up - in readiness for summer.

We´re returning to Blighty on Saturday. Back to Spinneybrook Way and a bit of stability, but I guess it won't be long before we´re on the road again.

It's been a really good course. Excellent teachers, lot's of support and really good crowd of fellow students.

When we set off on the course there was 5 Americans - Dale, Elisabeth, Geoff, Luke and Tricia.
Then there was Lucy (Irish), Rod (Scottish) and the rest of us (Briny, Anna, Dan, Sophie, Rita and me) who are all English.

Me and Rita are the oldies - old enough to be everyone´s mum & dad. We´re not, but I guess that if we were we'd have even less money and Rita would be very fat. Also, I wouldn't have called a son of mine Geoffrey (although he's a great bloke).

Dale had already done a load of stuff for the course on the Internet, so he didn't have to attend the last couple of weeks (save coming in for his grammar test).
Luke, well Luke. He absented himself on day 2, came in really late two days later, fell ill over the weekend, missed another couple of classes and then seemed to be pulling himself round a bit.
Come grammar test day (Wednesday), no sign of Luke.

He´s not been seen since, but has put in a complaint about one of our tutors (Lisa), who is actually sh!t hot at her job, and now he's demanding his money back. He won't get it.
He seems to have some problems, does Luke.

Tomorrow night (Friday 30th) there is a heavy drinking session on the cards. We´ve been realtively moderate so far, no staying out after midnight (or not much), but if I can get a good night's sleep tonight I could be up for a few beverages.

Rita's just come out of her final teaching session - so we're both done now. Mine was earlier this evening and wasn't brilliant. I think Rita's was good. It was our own materials projects tonight.

I based mine around ´the English Pub' and I'd set up this shove ha'penny type game as a sort of activate for the students. You never know which group of people you are going to be teaching and mine turned out to be the least likely set of Shove Ha'penny players. They may have been around in the heyday of the game, but they certainly were not in England.

There were seven women - aged between about 55 and 75 - and one bloke. Suffice to say it was all a little chaotic.

Picture the scene - there´s a big square of card marked out as a football pitch in the middle of the table. There's me asking two teams of middle/old aged people to gather round.
On the table there's 5 coins. One serves as the ball, two serve as ´strikers´and there are two goalies.

I ask the first question 'what's the past simple tense of stop' , 'stopped' is the instant answer.
Oh - that wasn't too difficult. Team A get to scrape there coins across the pitch. 'What's the
past simple tense of kneel', 'Knelt'. Oh - that wasn´t too difficult either. Team 'B' to go.

And so it went.

I thought I was getting an elementary group to teach and all these were advanced students, so every question I had prepared they knew (past tense of know) the answer to .
As the object of the game was for the team who answered correctly to have a shove, they ended up shoving the coins backward and forward for a good 10 minutes, before I blew time and called it a draw. Bloody Hell, I'm tired now.

Barcelona - TEFL Course

2007-03-05T16:25:00.000Z

Yes, yes the fun is over. Or maybe not, Barca´s looking beautiful and it´s sunny and 18C today.

We´ve been back to the UK for just over two weeks and stayed with friends and relatives, opened lots of bad news post (not really bad news - just things to do and bills to pay). As a spur of the moment thing, though, we have signed up for a one month TEFL course in Barcelona. That´s where we are now - in the computer Lab at the college to be exact. We seem to be about twice as old as all the other pupils on the course, which surprised me a bit.
I expected to see other late Gappers on the course.

I doubt whether this will be kept up as a daily blog, as we´ve got some work to do, apparently!

We´re back in the UK on the weekend of the 24th March for Esther & Adrian´s wedding in Southampton (Esther is Leigh´s neice) but actually arrive back for real the weekend after. If Spinneybrook´s not let, we will move in there. If it is let, we´ll resume our former Paddy & Max lives, the Mad Nomadic Merrix!

Hi Peops, Rita here! Oh yes, Work to do. This is day one of our course and we are plunged in with some Bright Young Things all in their mid-twenties. We could be their parents! They are all alarmingly confident and extrovert. We had to teach to our fellow-classmates today for approx. 4 minutes ´"teaching" them some skill but we were warned we must not "lecture". Our subject matter was to be our own. Leigh´s subject was how to organise a Pub Quiz and my subject was how to fold a Vietnamese pancake roll. I demonstrated this with a sheet of A4. Mine was singularly unimpressive compared to our "Confident Bright Young Things" all of whom appeared to have a wealth of skills to draw upon. Who cares - we got through it! This evening we have our first session of observing an experienced teacher in a real class for 45 minutes - and then we all whizz off for some TAPAS courtesy of our Tutor.

Our accommodation is just fine. We have one small bedroom and shared bathroom with a great shower. We are in a house of 3 school teachers all in their 30´s. The area though central is really first class and very safe. The house is clean, tidy and well organised and the library opposite us is fantastically modern, large and well equipped. Also there are parks nearby for studying and exercising (if one has a mind to). So, all in all, it is looking very promising but we suspect that it will not be without its seriously challenging moments, i.e. there is a 3 hour Grammar exam in week 4 of the course and if you fail this, then you fail the course! On Wednesday we start our Teaching Practise for real with real Spanish students. Oh, Mon Dieu! Sometimes these things that strike one "as a good idea at the time" maybe a bloody bad idea when one has one´s got their "CAN`·T DO" head on (i.e most of the time!). Oh well, I guess life is for living...(precisely so, so what on earth are we doing here, putting ourselves through it...?)

More tomorrow if not too swamped by HOMEWORK and studying GRAMMAR:

Singapore - then home

2007-02-18T09:35:00.001Z

We arrive in Singapore at 6:45 and take a shuttle bus to the hotel from the airport.

It's very hot & humid, but the good new is that the hotel's got a swimming pool.

The bad news is that everything's so expensive in the hotel. A 33 ml can of Tiger beer in the mini bar is £2, Vietnam was 0.30p. All the bell-boys hang around for tips.
We decide to find somewhere cheaper, but the hotel's not too well situated, so after strolling along a dual carriageway we end up buying food in a garage.

A further shock was in store when I tried to go into the hotel bar and was pulled up on dress code (was wearing shorts). I wouldn't mind, but as we were going in the bar a big very obvious transvestite was leaving (of his/her own accord). Is there something I should know?

In the morning we take the shuttle bus to the shopping area and end up buying a small travel laptop (something we'd been talking about since day one of the holiday). Bit late for this adventure.

One more night in the hotel and then we're off...14 hour flight to Blighty.

Arriving at Heathrow, the contrast between Changi airport (singapore) and Terminal three at Heathrow is marked.
Heathrow is disorganised, extremely scruffy and unwelcoming. God knows what first impressions new visitors to England get. You can't even get a minicab taxi without dialling for it and then it cost us £12 for a 4 mile journey.

Cambodian temples & Phnom Penh (again)

2007-02-16T09:59:00.000Z

Anghkor Wat - dusk

Temple in the jungle

February 7 2007

We booked a taxi driver and a guide for the day to take us around some of the Anghkor Wat Temples .

Our tour guide is 36 years old , so was a very young child during the Khmer Rouge era. He told us that he is still very weak as a result of the constant malnutrition he suffered in that time. His twelve year old brother died of malnutrition.

He also told us that the medical problems generated by this under-nourishment are passed on to the next generation.

It may seem very depressing, our visit to Cambodia, but it was all extremely interesting and revealing as well. It all gained particular revelance for the pair of us as we both had read four separate books on Cambodia. (First they killed my father, Stay alive my son, The Pol Pot regime and the Killing Fields). Not your average bedtime reading.

February 8th

Day off from Temples - wat a relief.

February 10th - Siem Reap to Phnom Penh

We decided to take the bus today, rather than subject ourselves to the Bullet.

Arrived back at the Anise hotel (recommended), early afternoon, and were re-united with some of our luggage that we had left previously left in Phnom Penh.

Rita met a New Zealand woman who had set up her own tour business in Cambodia. She had also helped finance and rebuild a school. Previously the school had no toilets and a teacher/pupil ratio of 1:100.

Now the teacher/pupil ratio is 1:30 and the school has toilets. She managed to raise £50,000 from her contacts in NZ and project manage the job from Cambodia, using her Cambodian contacts. All this between the ages of 63 & 70. Food for thought and inspiration to be taken.

February 11th

Up early to Fly to HCMC from Phnom Penh and then on to Singapore.

Lovely boating weather..

2007-02-15T16:53:00.000Z

Luxury air conditioned cabin

Chaos unloading the boat

trying to push the boat out of the mud

Towing the boat off the mudbank (we were on boat doing the towing!)

Checking how deep the water is

February 7 2007 Siem Reap

We’d been told that there were some famous temples in Siem Reap. I have to say, I am not very interested in ancient temples, but as we were in Cambodia, it seemed like something that we should do.

Now that we are in Phnom Penh, which lies around 220 miles to the south of Siem Reap, we had a quick look at the transport options.

Option 1 – most expensive – was to fly – hardly worth it for such a short trip.
Option 2 – cheapest – take the bus (7 hour journey)
Option 3 – Take the boat (the Bullet!) - $24 each, seemed a nice thing to do on a fine sunny day, so this is what in our infinite ignorance we chose. Accordingly we book the Boat trip for Wednesday, 7.02.07 and it leaves at 7am from the harbour, about 30 minutes drive from our hotel.

Rita will explain.
Soon after we get on the boat and find our allocated seats we decide for very good reason to travel up on deck. We noticed that many of the seated passengers looked aghast, and quizzical and I heard a German tourist say ‘This is not what you’d expect is it?’ Before long everyone is competing for space on the deck area. The inside of the boat resembles the inside of a small aircraft with seating 2-abreast either side of an aisle accommodating approximately 80 passengers. It has the claustrophobic environs of a submarine, and it is cramped and evil smelling. I later discover that the single toilet at the back of the seating area is responsible for the emanating stench. There was no escape route from within, and no life jackets or dinghies in sight anywhere and no safety instructions of any kind issued, and just as I was making these unnerving observations, the engine roared and we were off. It was really crowded on deck and I was wondering how I would manage to spend 7 hours in this one position and escape boredom and pins and needles or leg cramps. I need not have worried because as the morning wore on people started to shift their positions and move around a bit – you did have to get someone ‘to save’ your place though otherwise you would return to an even smaller area as encroachment was a real issue. Not able to hold on any longer, I had to push my way through the throng and make my way to the toilet which meant going inside. (Inside the boat there were only two passengers, both sleeping, everyone else was up top). To my dismay the toilet was of the squatting variety and placed up on a plinth of sufficient height to make it the least female-user-friendly toilet in the whole universe! - Note from LM : When I went to the toilet, I opened the door and a young lady was squatting up there (the lock was bust), most unnerving for both of us, as she was at eye level , When I did come to use it though, I discovered that it was at quite a covenient height for a gentleman to relieve himself.

As Rita was saying we decided to take the 'roof ' option along with 98% of the other passengers. It was a choice between that or drawing the thick diesel fumes into your lungs and risking certain death if the boat should capsize. If the boat should capsize? Why should that happen?Well, reading my $3 copy of the Cambodia Lonely Planet Guide, it tells me that the boat has sunk on occasion in the dry season, that it has no safety measures in evidence (true) and that the majority of passengers will choose to sit on the roof (true again). Reading a different publication, it tells me that the service has been suspended indefinitely. So what's this we're on?

I relayed this comforting information to an American guy I was talking to on the boat. He was a confident much travelled man, but expressed some trepidation on receiving this news. His travelling partner was a Vietnamese woman who left Vietnam back in 1970 to live in the States. She married an American (not him). She was on her way to visit her sister in Vietnam whom she had not seen since childhood. She was recording her trip for a newspaper back in North Carolina.

The first part of the boat journey turned out to be the most interesting scenically as we were still on the river, rather than the huge lake that we later joined. I think we were on the Tonle Sap river, which merges with the Mekong in Phnom Penh.

There was lots of human activity on the river. Floating fishing villages, small fishing vessels, people eking out their subsistence level lives, oh and dogs - there seemed to be lots of dogs.

Dogs in boats, dogs on rafts, dogs in the fishing villages and dogs swimming across the river.

After about three hours of the journey, during which I'd spent an interesting and pleasant hour chatting to the Vietnamese reporter, the boat slowed to almost a stop and the man at the helm, started waving his arms and shouting across to a fisherman on a very flat looking craft about 50 metres away. The fisherman gestured back, indicating the line that our boat should follow. Two minutes later our boat juddered to a complete standstill and there was a putrifying smell of engine fumes coupled with black clouds emanating from the rear of our boat. It would appear that something was amiss.

Next thing the boat lurched violently to one side and I expected to hear the cry of 'women and children first'. Unfortunately though there was not a single lifebelt, let alone a lifeboat aboard this vessel.

People began to get worried. Rita expecting the worst removed her shoes and took from her handbag her passport, bank cards and posh earrings putting them in her pockets and ear lobes respectively. All this is executed with the precision of the condemned. Clearly she is not convinced there are no pockets in a shroud! However, we soon discovered that the Deep, forboding and uninviting though is was, was not drowning-deep.

One of the crew members had pitched himself overboard and was now wading chest high in the fetid water (I guess it was). He was obviously testing the depth and trying to find a passage for the now stranded boat to follow. Did this happen often?

The boat then unexpectedly lurched to the other side as the driver attempted to dredge his way out of the mud. This action was again accompanied by strong engine fumes and black smoke.

I have to say, I was wondering if we'd all have to abandon ship and wade/swim to the side.

We were at least 50 metres from the shore, though, and I'm not sure what perils lurked below the surface (leeches for sure).

Just as crew and passengers alike were beginning to despair a small flat boat pulled up alongside our stricken vessel.

After a brief conversation with a guy on the fishing boat, a crew member on our boat bade the fishing vessel to pull alongside.

Next thing we knew, some of us were being ordered off the 'bullet' onto the fishing boat.

I had the dubious honour of being the first one ordered off. I didn't know whether this was to prove a good thing or not, but certainly I resolved to start my diet on Monday! Rita saw me on this boat and asked me what I was doing. Next thing, she was ushered off and joined me on the boat. When there were in the region of 20 people on the 'rescue' vessel, the fishing boat man cast a line to the stricken boat. The line was secured and the fishing vessel than began to drag the boat out of the mud and into deeper waters. Once the boat was free, there was an almighty cheer and much clapping (in relief, rather than admiration, methinks).

We passengers on the flat boat then had to clamber back on to the Bullet. One of my fellow evacuees was nearly decapitated by a swinging piece of wood as we re-embarked. I don't think it would have made the papers here though if he had.

Anyway, we're back on board now. The Vietnamese lady is silently weeping, obviously distressed by all this comotion.

But she does find her voice again after about an hour and continues her recordings. I hope she found something interesting to say about the boat trip

There were no more major incidents on the boat until we docked at a village at the end of the Tonle Sap lake (15 kms south of Siem Reap). We were told that when we arrived at the dock, there would be a taxi to take us to our hotel (OK, OK, We all need a bit of comfort in our lives).

Sure enough, as the boat lurched up to the quayside (using term loosely here, should read rickety planks on stilts) ahead of us in a mob of about 50 others, there was a man with the name 'MERICK' writ large on a piece of paper.

So all we had to do now was collect our luggage (one big rucksack at this point, as 2nd big rucksack being stored in Phnom Penh), connect with our Name-holder and be driven to our hotel.

The first major problem was to retrieve our luggage. All the passengers were crowded around the perimeter of the boat waiting for their luggage to emerge. The luggage was being flung on to the top of the boat at both ends. None of the passengers could move, so unless by some miracle your lugage was on top and you were next to it and furthermore you were able to exit the boat, then you were stuck. A lot of people on the boat didn't even realise that the luggage was appearing at front and rear and so stayed glued to the end of the boat that they were on expecting at sometime to be re-united with their bag/s. The result of this streamlined operation was Impasse. No-one could move, no-one could see their own luggage and everyone was reluctant to leave the boat without their luggage.

Rita overhead a couple of well-spoken Brits : "What the hell is going on, where in the world do you think we are?" he asked his mate. "Cambodia" came the reply laden with sarcastic emphasis on each syallble.

Another Brit was more forthright : "Come on, let's get this fucking thing moving".

I decided to leave the boat. But then found myself pinned against a wall and actually causing more of an obstruction than I had been previously. Rita had made her way down the boat and eventually emerged closely pursued by some Cambodian fellow who was carrying our rucksack.

"I'll take that now" I offered, but the chap carrying the bag was not to be dispossessed and continue to carry it until we met with our taxi driver.

The taxi turned out to be a tuk-tukk, but that's ok, that's quite a good way to travel. As our bag-carrier man put the bag on the tuk-tukk, I reached in my wallet for a few riels (Cambodian currency) and gave him about the equivalent of 20p. OK, I know, that's not much, but for him it's a decent tip. "One dollar" he demanded. "Not worth one dollar" I said (he'd carried the bag about 100 metres at most). "One Dollar". At this point, I began to get a bit annoyed and Rita decided to intervene. It turned out though, that we couldn't give him a dollar as we only had a couple of $20 notes and he couldn't change them. In the end the tuk-tukk driver gave some money to go away.

Our drive to Siem Reap was along very dusty unmade roads through villages which looked one step down from rural Vietnam in terms of poverty. We eventually made it to our hotel in Siem Reap and both went for a much needed lie down in a darkened room. Oh, the stress of it all exclaims Rita, relieving the tipping of the boat and now enjoying the peace and safety that is our hotel room.

Turns out this hotel is very comfortable though and has an excellent swimming pool. What a contrast...it's not just all about swimming you see, clearly the conditions are everything!

Phnom Penh

2007-02-09T07:15:00.000Z

Monday February 5th 2007

We're off again - blimey where are we now?

I'll tell you. On the 7 a.m. bus from HCMC to Phnom Penh.

This is a good bus, for a change. Air conditioned, pig and hen free and room to stretch one's legs. Things are looking up.

The Cambodian Officials at the border crossing were everything that you might expect. Surly, non-communicative, passive-aggressive. All the things that help give you feel good about the country that you are about to enter.

When our bus left the border crossing without the guide (who was in possession of our passports) and four of the passengers, we feared a scam.
However, we then stopped about one mile into Cambodian territory at a roadside restaurant. About half an hour later, our tour guide and the 4 missing passengers arrived on motorbikes and were reunited with the bus.
It was a very nice restaurant that we stopped at. The floor was carpeted in sheep droppings which in turn attracted swarms of flies. Still, nice lunch.

Actually our Cambodian experience ended up as being very positive and I think it's definitely somewhere that I'll revisit.

So just updating today on 13 February - we're at Changi airport on our way back to Blighty. Plane departs at 12:40 Singapore time, arrives 18:40 UK time. We lose eight hours on the
way. So, it's approx. a 14 hour flight.

So let's just jump back in time again.

Tuesday Feb 5th - Cambodia (Leigh writing).

We booked a tuk-tukk driver to take us to a couple of places today. A tuk-tukk is a motorbike, little chariot combination, much favoured by the Cambodians (for carting tourists around, anyway).
First we go to the Killing fields. There were actually 343 killing fields in Cambodia. These were the places that people were taken to to be exterminated during Pol Pot's khmer Rouge era (1975-1979).

The one that we visit is 15 km southwest of Phnom Penh. There's not much you can put into words with regards to these. 8,500 skulls are exhibited on 17 stories of a central tower which will remain forever as a reminder of the evils of the regime. Fragments of cloth & human bone are still scattered around the area. It all serves as a very bleak monument.

After the killing fields we visited the prison in Phnom Penh which held the people to be executed at the Killing fields. 17,000 people passed through this prison, only seven survived.
Around the walls of this building are thousands of photographs of the victims. Some before and after torture. Some children as young as ten years old. It defies description and left us both feeling down and somehow that it was all not real.

On leaving the prison (now a museum, originally a secondary school), I am totally beseiged by beggars. Most have missing limbs, others are disfigured through burn injuries. I, foolishly reach into my wallet to give a guy who appeared to have very little left of his original face a $1 bill. Suddenly I'm rushed from all angles and can only quickly retreat into the museum grounds once more.

I do manage to prepare myself for the onslaught once more when I re-emerge - I've stuffed a few $1 notes in a separate pocket. This time I'm only met by one beggar, so it's not so bad. I'm still not sure how one should handle all this.

There are over 70,000 victims of land mines still living in Cambodia. Even now 4 people a day are still being injured by land mines, but at least the de-mining of areas is moving along very quickly. Other victims of the Khmer Rouge are those that are still living, but have problems with their internal organs due to the extended period of malnutrition in those years. Apparently some of these health problems are being passed on to the next generation. So, as the legacy of Agent Orange remains in Vietnam, so does that of Pol Pot in Cambodia.

It ain't coca cola, it's rice...

2007-02-09T06:57:00.000Z

February 4 2007

Go straight to HCMC boy...

After a fairly sleepless night in the Joy hotel, due to us having a room right next to reception and parties of booming Frenchmen arriving all night (most hannoying), we get taxi to airport at 8 a.m. Goodbye Hanoi.

So we catch the 11:00 a.m. plane from Hanoi back to Ho Chi Minh on our way to pick up all our dirty washing, left at our hotel in HCMC nearly 3 weeks ago. We are on our way to Cambodia, so have booked our bus to Phnom Penh tomorrow.

When we arrive in HCMC (Saigon) we take a taxi to our hotel. Strange, coming back to the place after 3 weeks, it's nothing like as intimidating as it appeared previously. The chaotic traffic, buzzing motorbikes and fume filled atsmophere are, well, normal. Even our hotel seems better than before ( or mayber that's in contrast to our time at The Joyless in Hanoi). It's still very hot down here though, lucky it's their 'cool dry' season.

We book a plane from Phnom Penh to HCMC for next Sunday (11th Feb) and then we're going to fly straight out to Singapore. This should hopefully eliminate the need for us getting a multi-entry visa to Vietnam (we only got single entry), as we'll be in transit and not have to go through Vietnam customs again. I've checked with 3 different sources to make sure we can do this (i.e. get our luggage checked all the way through to Singapore from PP) - although all answers heve been in the affirmative, I'm not 100% convinced. If you don't see us in the next couple of months, we're languishing in a Vietnam jail - please contact British Embassy and bring us home.

A day in the countryside

2007-02-08T06:40:00.000Z

Saturday 3rd 2007

Last Saturday (today is Thursday, 8.02.07) we took up our tour guide's (Ngaiem, a.k.a. Nick, 'cos his Vietnamese name is too difficult for us to pronounce) invitation to visit his family in the countryside. He had Saturday off so we arranged to go on Saturday - 3.02.07. He is only 25 but his English was as fluent as we have encountered here so far.

He met us at our hotel at 7.15am as planned and then we travelled to his parents house by taxi to catch the local bus from Hanoi to his village, which took 90 minutes of driving along a very bumpy road. The rest of the journey was a motorbike ride along a dusty track and then a short walk. We arrived at about 10.45am. Nick appeared quite excitable as we 'bumped' along, telling us that no Westerner has ever put foot in his village before (to the best of his knowledge - not an invited one anyway!). He has taken Vietnamese friends before but never a Westerner nor any tourist. We felt quite honoured especially as he told us that his
Mum was preparing a fine feast for us, and had killed two chickens that morning. Of course we felt flattered but we are realistic enough to know that this invitation came on the back of us saying over a beer, that if he ever wanted to visit England we would cheerfully help him out with contacts and accommodation. (Strong beer, eh?).

Even though it was strictly a day off for him, he went into his 'Tour Guide' mode and told us much about rural Vietnam, about the system of the provinces, villages hamlets, the workings of the commumist government, the local counncil 'elections', the importance of the extended family, the worshipping of the ancestors, the buddist altars in the homes, the personal histories of his own family and how he had to work in the rice paddie fields for 7 years and how he had to pull the leeches from his legs everyday - and much more. It may sound a tad mundane as i write but listening to him in his enthusiastic tone and seeing the miles of rural countryside as we sped by, and with the anticipation of meeting his family very soon - we absorbed it all.

We were followed by a group of giggly children down the path who were just so curious to see us rotund westerners. Leigh stopped and took a photo of them and then played it back and they dissolved into hysterical laughter, pointing and shoving to get a better view of themselves. When we arrived at his parent's we were greeted with big shy smiles and extravagent gestures to sit down. Nick explained that whilst we could shake hands with them, he could not, because that would imply that the son was equal to the father and that is not the case. The eldest is the most repected. He said also that his parents would not give us eye-contact for a while because it would be deemed discourteous to do that so soon. Anyway, we made do quite nicely with some cans of Heinken, copious tiny cups of green tea and Nick acting as interpretor. We are to call his father, 'Bo' and his Mum 'Mer' - we can manage this. Mer asks us if we have any children. They are very interested in family matters. Gradually, members of Nick's extended family come in one by one to look at us, aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, nieces, a brother, a sister and happy but toothless 83 year old Grandma. Everyone asks how old we are and Mer guesses that I am 45. I like her, a lot. Soon we are in a small group of Bo, (56), and his two Uncles (61) & (71). They talked about the American war and Nick interprets. Bo has two bullets lodged in his head. One uncle has leg wounds, gunshot wounds to his back. The other has gunshot wounds to his shoulder, and shrapnel in his side. Nick says, 'No one forgets the war'. Strangely, the two uncles are wearing their military fatigues.

We venture outside and Nick shows us the cute little piglets in the pigsty, and a few surviving chickens. There is a well which they use for washing. There is a vessel to catch rainwater for drinking water. There is no toilet - you use the garden. The garden sports rows of vegetables and fruit trees of starfruit and grapefruits. They have a battery operated telly which is on throughout and the colour is turned up to full resolution. (There is no electricity). They live in only one room, for sleeping, eatting and sitting. After dinner (the chicken tasted very fresh!), we were invited to take a nap in the bed which was in the corner of the room. We declined, preferring to go for a walk instead. We walked and came to some paddy fields whereupon the stooping women straightened up and mildly bemused looked at us as if to say: 'What on earth are you doing here?'. (We were asking ourselves the same question).

With lots more smiling and vigorous friendly nods and handshakes we were making our way home.

A day in the countryside and our moment of fame gone and cloak of celebrity having derobed itself, we were once again just another tourist in our crummy hotel.

Hanoi & Halong Bay Jan 29th to Feb 2nd

2007-02-05T14:04:00.000Z

So what comes next then...

Well, we flew up from Hue to Hanoi, having decided in favour of a one hour flight, rather than a 12 hour overnight train journey. Yes it would have been cheaper 'to let the train take the strain', but of course the train wouldn't have performed that task. My slight trepidation at flying Vietnam Airlines (expecting something akin to Aeroflot), was soon eased as we stepped onto a brand spanking A320 airbus - which most of the éstablished' airlines haven't got in their fleet yet.

Arriving in Hanoi, the climate was much more pleasant than HCMC. Nothing like the humidity and 10 degrees lower at around 24C. The city traffic, however, proved to be equally chaotic.

So what comes next then...Rita does! Yup, we had a really smooth flight to Hanoi taking off at 14.40pm. We had to be at the airport one hour before as it was only a domestic flight but we confused our times and arrived two hours before instead. We were the only souls there - even the cafe was shut! Clearly a very quiet airport! Earlier we had had breakfast out on the hotel's patio with Mike and Lucy, extra coffees - the Vietnamese coffee is so good - and bananas all round. (Private note for P & J: For M & L read K & S!!!). Just as an aside whilst we are on the subject; most hotels serve banana, a white crusty bread roll, a knob of butter, eggs and strong home-grown Vietnamese coffee for breakfast. It is standard fare. The taxi drive to our hotel in Hanoi was even more scary than most. As we sped along, the sight of a motorbike laying in the middle of the road did nothing to alleviate my fears. Moments later we witnessed a mob of men grabbing hold of the culpable truck driver and dragging him down from his cab...

The hotel in Hanoi was joyless & crummy despite being called 'JOY HOTEL'but only cost us $10 dollars per night which includes breakfast. That evening we found a 'Western'restaurant and having no appetite for noodles left, we ventured in. What a disappointment! It was laughable really but alas not at the moment of presentation! The plates were stone cold and the vegetables were cold, raw infact. The mash potato (I love mash potato - not having had any since September, I was really looking forward to it), turned out to be chips, soggy, crinkle cut and absolutely stone cold.The lamb cutlet could have been anything! The mustard sauce and Leigh's lemon sauce (he'd ordered fish with lemon sauce)turned out to be the same yellow sauce both tasting of cornflour. Yummy!
You see chaps, it's not all beer and skittles here!

Tuesday 30.01.07 - a really good night's sleep at the Joyless and away at 8am for a 3 night, 2 day tour to Halong Bay. Bigsy had recommended Halong Bay, so we were quite confident about it. We are introduced to Nick our Tour Guide, who speaks really good English. Day 1 proves to be a really enjoyable day. The sun is beaming down, we have a good lunch on the boat, we go kayaking for 90 minutes on the Bay and see some really stunning scenery. We also go down an amazingly huge cave with the most enormous stalagmites and stalactites. Evidently the VC used to hide down here when the Americans got too close for comfort. History tells us that they bombed Hanoi to the ground, so I guess 'they got too close for comfort'was an understatement, slightly!

Leigh's voice now, below:

February 1st: Wake up on junk after a quiet peaceful night. The sun is shining and life seems easy {no travelling today!). The junk takes us across the bay and we're then loaded on to a bus. This takes us to a quay where we board a scruffy flat barge thing which takes us down a canal and to another cave. This cave is similar to the one that we visited yesterday. Huge and full of stalactites and stalagmites. If these caves existed in the UK it would cost about 15 pounds to enter. Entrance is free.
They are amazing caves.

In this cave that we are in this morning there is a buddhist shrine. 65% of the Vietnamese are Buddhist, but in reality, we are told, the only true practising buddhists are the monks. The remainder of the Buddhist faith practise 'Ancestor Worship'. This involves 'bringing down you ancestors' with prayers at the shrine. The belief is that you can ask your ancestors for advice and that the said ancestors are aware of their contribution.

In the afternoon we are taken to a hotel in Cat Ba, where we are booked in for the night.
Cat Ba is a seaside town with a wide boulevard along the front. The kids actually have some room here to kick their shuttlecocks around and play ball games. Altogether it looks a better life than that offered by the city.

In the evening we all go to the pub, 'The Blue Note'. Rita asks for her usual tipple, a diet coke!

Thursday 2nd February : We board a boat which is to take us back to Halong City, prior to taking the 4 hour bus ride back to Hanoi.
On this boat we get talking to a Vietnamese woman (49) and her daughter (21). The mother (Vivienne) was one of the boat people who ecaped Vietnam in the late 70's after the
reprisals had begun against the South Vietnamese who were connected to or supported the former government (anti-communist). Vivienne's family had to leave as her father was in the army, not VC. The legacy of the persecutions still exists today as former government workers, doctors, professional classes and intellectuals under the defeated South Vietnamese government are persona non-grata in Vietnam. Many of the impoverished Cyclo drivers, scraping a subsistence wage are indeed victims of this repression, as these educated people are denied the right to earn a living/proper job, so they live hand to mouth.

(Rita again). Vivienne was expounding on her experience of being a 'Boat Person'. She said that they had gradually sold off all their possessions and at midnight in October 1979 (four years after the Viet Cong's victory and therefore her father's South Vietnamese army's defeat - inevitable after the Americans had pulled out,leaving them to fight the V.C). In 1979 she was 21 and the 3rd eldest daughter within a family of Mum, Dad and 10 brothers and sisiters. The youngest child was two.They took bags of rice & other dried food stuffs and some pots and a map and some gold, the only currency to bribe with. Within less than 24 hours the VC's patrols search lights came on scanning the waters and everyone ducked down covering themselves with taupaulin. She recalls her fear. She did not know until that point that one's heart could possibly sound so loud! On a later escaper her 1st cousin was caught by these search lights and was sent to 12 years hard labour. I asked how he was. She replied that when he was released he was just skin and bone. 'He suffered alot'. She knows that had they been caught the whole family would most certainly have been jailed. They were four months living on this boat. They arrived first at Singapore and were not granted entry. At Sydney, Australia they were eventually granted entry. She recalls the elation upon hearing that news as clearly as she remembers the beating of her heart at seeing the patrol's searchlights as her family cowered. They were sent to a 'detention' camp in Australia for 'rehab'. Her Mum and Dad were very keen that all their children should be educated and all 10 of them gained a university degree at Melbourne uni. Their graduation picture hangs on the living room wall. Her parents are very proud. Their risk paid off. They know that if they had stayed, they would have been discovered and all the children would be denied an education and the parents left to beg. Every day in those fateful years, men (like her father) were dragged out of their houses and all possessions confiscated and left homeless and/or father's jailed. Vivienne's 21 year old daughter is now a 4th year Law Student at Melbourne University and was stunning, confident and engaging. Vivienne is really proud that her daughter has this chance of success. She said much more but I have probably gone on too much already, especially as our taxi is due soon and we have yet to check out of this hotel. We are off to see 'the Killing fields'...I have mixed feelings about this as I am not the resilient type, but important to visit/not forgotten.

Hue

2007-01-31T11:21:00.000Z

27th - 29th January 2007

We travelled up to Hue by bus. The journey itself was pretty uneventful, but on arriving in the town we were met by a frantic crowd of Cyclo drivers, hotel touts and street vendors. O.k. this is not unusual in Vietnam, where every opportunity is taken to extract the tourist Dollar (or Dong) - and why not?, but the intensity of this attention was far greater than any we had thus encountered.

I was determined to find our own hotel and select our own mode of transport to take us there. However, we were met by this frenzied mob and although managing to shake the majority off, were still left with one totally persistent cyclo (rickshaw) driver. In the end to ward him off as we spied an internet cafe, we dived into it and made as if to log on to email. He was right on our shoulder. And so we opened up an e-mail (from Auds). He was still over our shoulder, but now appeared to take a healthy? interest in the content of the mail.

We still managed to avoid his ministrations and found ourselves a taxi instead and asked them to take us to our Lonely Planet Guide selected hotel (which turned out to be pretty average anyway).

Talking of Internet cafes, in Hue we found it extremely difficult to get any usage.
Despite there being plentiful cafes available, all the slots were taken by teenage and younger boys playing computer games. O.K., I can see why they need this kind of entertainment. The city streets and pavements are full. Full that is of motorbikes, people cooking food, dogs, cats, garbage, cooking equipment etc. etc. There is nowhere for anyone to play, although you do observe groups of youths kicking a shuttlecock about between themselves. Very talented they appear to be, too. This does not just apply to Hue, of course. Saigon, Hanoi, Danang, Nha Trang and Dalat all possess the same make-up of human life.

We weren't that impressed with Hue. It was very overcast and with prolonged bouts of rain, though and no doubt this coloured our views on the City. I had to take issue with the LPG's suggestion that a cruise down the picturesque Perfumed river was a must for any Vietnam traveller.
The river running through the city was grey,langourous and laden with dead dogs & cats (probably). Picturesque? Perfumed?. Actually Perfumed is the name of the river and I guess it did have a perfume of sorts.

On the 2nd day of our stay in Hue, we had booked a tour to take us too the Demilitarized zone and the Vinh Moc caves. This did prove altogether more interesting than the city.
In fact the day started in quite an interesting way. At 6:30 a.m. we were waiting in reception for a taxi to nip us through the town to join our bus for the tour. Two motorbikes turned up. The other couple who were waiting in the rain with us for the taxi (Mike and Lucy) were adamant that they were not going to travel on the back of the motorbikes. The hotel porter then sent the motorbikes away and the four of us travelled in a car to meet the bus.

The drive to the DMZ was eventful only in as much as we witnessed the aftermath of a lorry hitting a motorbike. This accident, looked as though it had contributed yet another road death to the spiralling numbers killed on the Vietnam roads (40 deaths a day on average, this does not take account of seriously injured, obviously). Vietnam is smaller than Britain, but has 83 million population, less 40 per day that we know about!

We were talking to a couple from Dublin at the breakfast stop. They had just spent 3 weeks in Laos. Apparently it's considerably more primitive than Vietnam, but they enjoyed it. One perturbing sight they witnessed though was that of five live dogs strapped to the back of a motorbike, obviously bound for someone's table. Also they were saying that as rat is a particular favourite in Laos lots of their fellow travellers on the local bus had bags of the headless dead animals.

Anyway, we're not going to Laos this time around.

We headed for the Vinh Moc tunnels which are about 10km north of the DMZ. There are in the region of 210kms of these tunnels and during the Vietnam/American war, the North Vietnamese villagers (i.e. the Viet Cong,- the Çommies lived in them. They were occuppied for 5 years and 17 babies were actually born in the tunnels. All 17 are still alive and have re-unions each year when they revisit the tunnels in which they were born.
The reason that the villagers hid in these tunnels was to avoid the intense American bombing. Ironically, the Demilitarized Zone was one of the most heavily bombed areas in Vietnam. They are still completely in tact, unlike the smaller and more well known tunnels of Cu Chi in the South, which have been enlarged in order that Western tourists can actually fit in them! We walked through these tunnels at Vinh Moc. I had to say it didn't do too much for my claustrophobia, but I got used to it eventually. I think we were actually in the tunnels for about 20 minutes. It really gave us the feeling for how difficult/impossible it would be to live in them full time. Indeed, the occupants of Vinh Moc, during that 1966 - 1971 period, could only stay in the tunnels 10 days at a time. Only, I say. There was originally only one ventilation shaft for the tunnels and it was as black as soot down there, and quite airless but the Americans kindly created one more ventilation area with a mis-directed bomb. The VC covered this up with branches to conceal it.

Hi Everybody! Rita here. I am going to tell you about the journey back from the DMZ. There were at least 30 of us herded back into the coach and off we set for a 3 hour journey back to Hue. After about 90 minutes or so our tour guide got off the bus to go to her home. About 10 minutes after this stop our coach came to another stop and to our surprise the driver moved over and a young man, who we took to be a relative took over the wheel and so we spectators (those of us who were still awake, or aware)started to witness the beginnings of a driving lesson. Firstly, the young man was unable to put it in gear, after several failed attempts, our experienced driver reached over and muttering manipulated the gears for him. And now with a shudder the coach lurched forward which elicited much hooting of horns as the coach careered into the thick traffic. Unfortunately, our learner driver was so nervous (but not as nervous or as hysterical as the passengers were becoming!), that he was unable to straighten up and so the vehicle carried on swerving across the wide road into oncoming traffic. Mike (as in Mike and Lucy) who was sitting on the back row in the middle seat had a perfect view of all proceedings, was by now up on his feet, demanding in raised tones that the driver change back, "'Change Driver"he commanded, serveral times to no effect. Mike then turned his attention to the dormant and placid passengers, "They've changed Drivers! They've changed Drivers". And again to the "Drivers" themselves, "Change back!". Mike was relentless in his enterprise, and just like the Vietnamese Persistency pays off, as the coach pulled up and our Driver, without a word, resumed the wheel and drove us home - a little quicker than we would have liked, but no doubt he was looking forward to being shot of us!

We walked back with Mike and Lucy to our hotel from being dropped off in the city centre and shared a good laugh about the 'driving lesson'with 30-odd passengers on board the coach. He didn't even display an L-plate. Imagine that happening in England down the M1 we chortled! We ended up arranging to dine with them later and so we found a good curry house. Beers all round except for me, as I am doing a 21-day stint without alcohol and it was only Day 12 and besides the water tasted well, just like water actually. We ordered the 'works'had a few drinks between us and got a taxi there and back and the entire bill came to a total 16.00 quid! 8 quid per couple, and the food was perfectly fine.

Inside Vinh Moc tunnels

Days in Hoi An - 23/1/2007 to 26/1/2007

2007-01-29T14:18:00.000Z

Milo says 'Hi from Hanoi'

Blogging from Hanoi tonight (29/1/2007) - so still trying to catch up on posts.

..and so,it's Leigh here...
We arrived in Danang at 5 a.m. I'd been awoken by a female guard on the overnight train twiddling my big toe from the end of the bunk bed. I woke Rita up and sleepily we trudged on to the platform.

It was our intention to take the bus from here to Hoi An, but a taxi driver persuaded us into his cab. Even then I asked him to take us to the bus station, but he kept right on driving all the way to Hoi An (20 odd miles?). As it turned out he did us a favour. He took us to an excellent hotel, charged us $10 taxi fare and we were comfartably ensconed by 6 a.m.
He asked our nationality, "English", "Oh English - football, yes, very good, Manchester United top, Chelsea 2, Liverpool 3, Arsenal 4". Turned out he supported West Ham - I couldn't fathom out why. When I told him of my allegiance, he simply laughed "Not so good eh?". He obviously knew his stuff.

Hoi An - great place for clothes shopping (not a habit of ours, I have to say).
Rita bought t-shirts, and had an oriental suit type of thing made for her.
We both had shoes made for us and I had a suit run up ($75 + $6 for hand-made shirt). The postage back to the UK was 20 odd quid, so a fair proportion of total price.

Toilet on the way to My Son.

On Wednesday (24th January) we went on a trip to My Son (pronounced Meeson, rather than in 'come on my son!') All to do with Ancient Cham temples. The Kingdom of Champa functioned from the 2nd to the 15th century. The Chams adopted Hinduism after having commercial relations with IndIa. No one can work out how they managed to build these brick temples without mortar - how did the bricks stick to each other? We had the converse problem with some builders at 104 - they used lots of mortar, but the bricks still fell apart.

Cham Temple - sack the brickie..

We did have a good time in Hoi An. The town is really geared up to tourism, which in a developed country might seem a disadvantage. Here in Vietnam, though, it was a pleasant change.
The shops were full of good quality stuff all at rock bottom prices. There are lots of art shops, sellng some really tasteful paintings and carvings. The clothes shops were bedecked with top quality silks. Even the usually tacky ornament shops were filled with good quality,original stuff. Unfortunately we couldn't carry a lot as we've still got too much travelling around to do.

Overnight train from Na Thrang to Da Nang, Mon.22.01.07

2007-01-26T02:53:00.000Z

Good evening All. We are about to catch the overnight train and have the luxury of a bunk bed each in a room of 4. We wonder what the couple will be like that we are sharing with - not snorers, hopefully. The train departs at 8pm and arrives at Da Nang at 5am. We are told to arrive 30 minutes prior, at the railway station. And so, arriving a bit early we sit in the waiting room and wait. The place soons fills up, and fills up! People of all descriptions arrive, many of the women and children already in their pyjamas and with toothbrushes in their hands. Despite the toothbrushes we resemble 'the great unwashed'. The waiting room heaves. We learn that there is no food or drink available on the train so we buy some bread rolls and triangular cheeses and a big bottle of water. A member of staff who appears to be guiding people and moving people along etc. is suddenly at my side and produces a knife and proceeds to cut our bread rolls down the middle. She looks up obligingly and smiles at me. I feel confused. Maybe she is expecting a tip for this unsolicitored service, but actually my predominant concern is: 'Have you washed your hands?'. Within a short time she is here again asking 'Would we like a cup of coffee?'. We reply 'yes please'. She is back with 2 plastic cups only a 1/3 full (if that!) demanded 10,000 dong (which is about 30pence) and it is drinking chocolate, strong, thick and sweet. It's drinkable. The loudspeaker makes an unintelligalbe announcement, which is followed by a sudden surge of people scrambling towards the doors to the platform. Our Cob-cutting assistant is back again and beckons us to stay seated, she explains, 'People, people - too many'. within a minute another assistant comes up to us and makes frantic gestures for us to join the queue. We start to obey this latest order when our 'CCA' (cob-cutting assistant) returns, pushing us gently back into our seats. This is really comical.We are the laughing pawns in their game.This exercise is repeated in precisely the same sequence a few more times. It actually feels quite good to be part of an aerobics class again with two instructors! Our CCA finally and with astonishing urgency is now gathering us up and propelling us towards the platform doors. She examines our tickets. We follow her. We jump down on the lines and climb up the other side of the track on to the opposite platform, flinging our rucksacks 'over the top'(as it were) before us. We pass a long queue of people and walk for a good few mintues before she comes to a halt. I spy a 'WC' sign and crossing the track make my way towards it. Someone jumps out at me demanding a 1,000 dong to use the loo. My CCA is at my side and acts as mediator. She produces a key to the loo and goes inside first and I hear swishing noises and then she lets me in. It is a 'squat loo'- easier for the chaps to aim straight!. We continue to wait at our designated spot. I spy our CCA sitting on the opposite side of the platform with an old woman and two small children. The children wave at us shyly. The women are pointing. We wave back. The children are excited and hide behind the women. We play beekaboo and contine to exchange energetic waves. But between you, me and the gatepost I am not comfortable and feel embarressed at such a silly display of 'hot air'. I can't wait for this train to appear, which very soon it does. Our CCA also does. She stands infront of us and is giggling and pointing to the children and saying 'Mummy and Daddy'. She covers her mouth with her hand to smother the erupting giggles. I deduce from this spectacle that the children thought that Leigh and I were their parents. I know this deduction is a nonsense so what else could she mean? Anyway, next moment she is making everyone stand back and creates a space for us to go first; she carries my rucksack and we follow her on to the train. Eventually she turns into one of the many cabins and flings my rucksack on a top bunk and turns and beams at us. We thank her and give her a tip of 20,000 dong. (30,000 dong is a quid!). She looks happy, smiles and shakes hands and she is gone.

This is a 4 berth, air conditioned cabin and you cannot swing a cat. The choice of activity for the next 9 hours is to either lie on your bunk or stand outside the toilet with people pushing past you at regular intervals. A late-thirties Chinese-Vietnamese couple enter the cabin and make themselves 'at home'. They are in the bunks below us and there is a small table between them. They place cans of Heineken, a packet of biscuits, fruit and a bottle of water on the table and then they proceed to 'party'. I say 'hello' cheerfully; they respond with an unenthusiastic grunt. We lie on our beds and read. The bunk is so small you can really only lie on your back. The noise below increases. They talk constantly like loud twittering birds. Clearly 'out of sight out of mind'. Leigh and I are out of sight, but their din obtrudes. Hour after hour their incessant babble proceeds forth. However after several hours the fascinaton began to fade, giving way to irritation. I surmised that they must be in love, a honeymoon couple noneless, or maybe an eloping couple. How otherwise could one explain that level of intensity? They must have uttered 100,000 words between them (or maybe each?). Leigh was passing me more and more looks of sheer exasperation. Yes, it is truly annoying, but what can one do? We just have to put up with it. We managed to negotiate 'lights out' at around 11.pm. Alas, with that small victory it was the only thing that went out. The loud conversation went on, as before. She was worse in terms of volume. As her sentence progressed she would get louder reaching almost crescendo heights before sliding down the volume scale again. It was shrill and penetrating. By any stretch of the imagination it was outrageously inconsiderate. If only my CCA were with me now. She'd sort them out!I didn't have to wish this for long though because quite suddenly in the gloom I heard Leigh's questioning voice boom angrily: 'Rita, how long do you think we will have to put up with this?'. Instantly seeing the prospect of a fight in the making in the confinement of this hot little room, I offered appeasement. 'Oh, it is not personal Leigh. They can't help it. It is their culture.' To our mutual astonishnment, a heavy silence filled the air. Not a sound other than the air conditioning. (I lay there smiling thinking of Adrian's story in the YHA dormitory of the cut class English accent ineffectively imploring 'Oh, do shut up!' to Adrian's imperious, 'Shut up!'. Leigh's outburst may have been more verbose but it was as effective. I also thought how fortuitous that you cannot swing a cat in here...

Nha Trang to Dalat

2007-01-25T02:12:00.000Z

Dalat street scene

Friday 19/1/2007

We spent a couple of days in Nha Trang "relaxing" and plannig our itinerary for the remainder of our travels. Yeh, I know, that should only take ten minutes, but as far as mental agility is concerned we seem to be grinding to a halt.

Rita's been missing her mates....

On the Friday we took a bus from Nha Trang to Dalat.

Dalat is South West of Nha Trang, 205 kms in distance. It is in the south of the area known as the Central Highlands.

The journey took 5 hours, and was the sort of drive that you feel it is better not to look through the front window. As stated before, there are many, many motorbikes on Vietnam's roads. There are also horses, bicycles, stray dogs and stray people. The roads are narrow and generally potholed.

None of the above hazards seem to deter the bus drivers though. They career through the built up areas at high speed, blaring their horns in order that moving obstacles before them will scatter and leave the road clear. In the journeys that we took to Dalat and then back to Nha Trang, we witnessed one dog killed, a horse rear across the road, trailing its cart behind it and a motorcylclist on the inside of the bus so squeezed out by the bus's actions that his only alternative appeared to be to plunge into an eight foot ditch that was conveniently dug alongside the road. Fortunately for him the bus pulled away from him at the last moment. The fact that the normally stoical Vietnamese Motorcycle rider brandished his fist in protest, spoke volumes.

When we arrived in dalat, the sun was shining.

We were talking to an American couple at a cafe (teaching at Dalat Uni) and they informed us that this was potentially a malaria risk area. As we had't taken any anti-malarial precautions, we returned to the hotel, smothered ourselves in deet, put the mozzy nets up around the beds and sprayed the rooms. Nowt like being cautious.

Mozzy nets round hotel bed (Bridal suite)

2nd day in Dalat. I went out on a mission to get myself a white t-shirt and hat. I was feelinfg warm and my black Bob Dylan shirt was absorbing too much heat.
Rita had a 'quiet' coffee at a street cafe.
During my mission, I found myself at the back of the market. Interesting.
I witnessed a chicken about to be executed, but averted my gaze before the blow was struck (sensitive Westerner), then I slipped on a flapping black fish that was making a bold escape bid across the pavement. I also witnessed the vast quantities of meat lying unrefrigerated on the market stalls, with hosts of flies partaking of their breakfasts from it.
Hey, well, this is life, isn't it?

In the afternoon, we took a walk around the lake and visited the flower gardens - adrenalin junkies that we are.
Rita wasn't feeling too well today - I think the constant noise & buzz of things was getting to her.

In the evening we went into the town - and hey - all the motorbikes had gone - apparently on certain days/nights of the week, motorised vehicles are banned from the centre of town (we were later to find the same rules applied in Hoi An).
What a difference this made. You could actually breathe clean(er!) air and hear human voices and birds chirping.
Day 3, we were actually travelling back to Nha Trang, prior to getting transport to take us further North up the coast to Hoi An.

Some guy, with no legs has just come into the cafe selling newspapers, This is not at all unusual. There appear to be loads of victims of the Vietnam war (known as the American war here in Vietnam). I can only assume that these poor souls have been injured by land mines.

Off to Nha Trang

2007-01-20T06:37:00.000Z

Wednesday 18th January

It's been a while since we've been able to get into blogging, what with slow Vietnam connections and all that, so this post is detailing stuff that happened nearly a week ago.

So, Wednesday 18th January and Rita is going to tell you about how the day started:

(Is she now? Oh, ok then...). Mornin' All. Lets see, oh yes, we are leaving HCMC and catching the 6.15am Five Star Express train to Na Thrang, for a 6 hour journey up the East coast. We have opted to go first class as this section of the train is air conditioned. But the morning does not get off to a good start. We are told that we must arrive at the train station 30 minutes prior, so to be there by 5.45am. Thus, we are up at 4.30am and by 5am our taxi is summoned and his meter is ticking away outside our hotel whilst we are having a heated debate with the receptionist at the hotel. We are trying to check out but he refuses to handover our passports due to some extra cost of 35 US$ that we won't pay 'cos we do not agree to it. His grasp of English is about as good as our grasp of Vietnamese. Thus, all hand gestures and facial grimacing! Eventually with all the losses on our side (we have a train to catch) and none on his, we give him some money and leave. We are inside the taxi now and we show the young taxi driver our train tickets as evidence of our destination. He nods encouragingly. After 10 minutes or so, he pulls up outside a closed and grid-gated restaurant and signals for payment. I recognise the area as being about 2 minutes walk from our hotel. (The one we have just left). I shake my head and emphatically reproduce the train tickets again shoving them under his nose, for his kind perusal. This time he makes out that he really understands. We set off again. Several minutes later we arrive at what is clearly the Bus Station. I can tell this by the numerous stationary buses that are parked up side by side. My powers of discernment have not abandoned me, you see. I repeat the flag waving exercise with the train tickets. Whilst stationary I hop out the car and accost another taxi driver. I introduce him to our taxi driver via much gesticualtion. Accosted taxi driver examines the train tickets and then remonstrates loudly with our young lost taxi driver. I am now conspicously tapping the face of my watch with index finger - which I also place under our taxi driver's nose, and I observe Leigh slapping his thigh (his own, thankfully) in an expression of despairing incredulity, as it becomes increasingly apparent that our young taxi driver does not know where the train station is. After further conflab with remonstrating taxi driver, the light goes on in young taxi driver's eye and we set off again. I am now calculating the cost of missing the train and wondering if it had not been better if we had only booked standard class seats 'cos then our losses would have been reduces. Anyway, upshot is we make it - just in time. But it is a hair raising drive. He no longer drives defensively/evasively but very fast and aggressively. Whilst I admire his determination to make up lost time, I would rather arrive in one piece! Thankfully all other road users manage to get out of his way in time, helped no doubt by his continual hooting. We are ensconed in our first class seats and making the most of our relief. At 7am we go to the buffet bar for breakfast. We are presented with a menu. There are 3 choices on it. 1. Fried eggs and fresh cuts
2. Beef or chicken noodle soup or 3. Prepacked sandwiches
I request pre-packed sandwiches only to be told 'We don't do them anymore'. Too squeamish for greasy runny eggs (believe me they will be, its the Vietnamese way) and singularly suspect of the 'fresh cuts', we were to be found tucking into beef noodle soup and practising our clumsy chopstick manipulations. This brings a new twist to the saying, 'Many a slip between cup and lip' to 'Many a slip between chopstick and lip. Sounds clumsy? It was! But also so apt because we had assumed that the local taxi firm would be able to take us to the railway station without too much of a problem.

Arrived in Nah Trang in bright hot sunshine. The sea is turquoise and the beaches are golden. Shame that the beach is strewn with litter though. This town has a much greater Westernized feel about it; its slower and less traffic but still bustling and vibrant. I feel more relaxed here. We found a second hand book store and bought two books both of which were about the Khmer Rouge's activities in Cambodia. One is called 'Stay Alive My Son' by Pin Yathay and the other is 'Off the Rails in Phnom Penh by Amit Gilboa. Both have proved an informative and compelling read. This has made us more commited in our endeavours to get to Cambodia but we will not know until we arrive in Hanoi if we will be able to obtain the relevant visa.

Thanks Rita - I'm back, she's checking F9 mail - at long last we've managed to get into Blogger & Mail in same session. I'm just adding a wee picture which I took in our 'first class' toilet - it's very instructive, I'm sure that you'll agree.

Cooking HCMC then Nha Trang (Nah kidding)

2007-01-18T04:10:00.000Z

Street scene - Ho Chi Minh City

It is now January 19th - thursday morning, 11:10 a.m. local time.

Our UK Reader will still be in bed, asleep right now as I write (unless bothered by troublesome bladder or noisy revellers).

We are now in Nha Trang, a seaside town with a population of c.315,000, about 300 miles North East of HCMC. But before we recount tales of Nha Tranmg, there are another couple of days to complete in Ho Chi Minh.

Where were we... I think it was at the point that we were having breakfast at a roadside cafe.

After consuming the spicy 'breakfast' we headed back to our hotel room. Rita was in no mood to venture forth bravely immediately, so I tasked myself with finding a travel agency (Tourist Information Offices as such do not exist in Vietnam).

A guy I was talking to on the Singapore-Vietnam flight had recommended Sinh Cafe.
I got the address from the Lonely Planet Guide and decided that it was a walkable distance.

It would have been so in normal circumstances, but once lost in HCMC it is very hard to regain your bearings. After walking for around 30 minutes under a bombardment of motorcycle taxi offers, I decided that the best option was to take one of these taxis to my propsed destination. That worked quite well. Ten minutes later and $1 US lighter I was at Sinh Cafe. Problem here was that nobody seemed to understand English. What I did manage to book though was a cooking lesson for the two of us for the next afternoon.

In the afternoon we went to a restaurant recommended to us by the hotel receptionist (we had a pretty good meal + drinks for aroumd $10 US (300,000 dong to you)).
Then we wandered off in the direction of the Reunification Palace. By this time we had begun to see a few more Western faces and came to the realisation that our hotel was not based in the tourist quarter.

The Reunification Palace was an interesting experience.
It was named as such after the Americans had finally fled Vietnam in April 1975 and the communists tanks rolled into what was the known as Saigon on April 30. Prior to this it had had an interesting history.
The original building (The Norodom Palace) was bombed by the South Vietnamese in 1962, in an unsuccesful attempt to get rid of their despised leader, Ngo Dinh Diem (placed in power by the USA). Diem ordered the Palace to be rebuilt, thia time with a bomb shelter in the basement. He did not live to see the completion of the building however as he was murdered by his own troops in 1963.
The new building was named Independence Palace and was home to South Vietnamese President Nguyen Van Thieu until his hasty departure in 1975.

We were shown around by a charming Vietnamese girl, whose English was pretty good.

The most interesting part of the tour was being taken into the basement from where the South Vietnamese war strategy was emloyed.

Next day (Tuesday 17th January), we were up and about early again and took a taxi to the War Remnants museum.

This was formerly known as the 'American & Chineses war crimes museum', so as you can imagine the exhibits and explanations do have a certain bias.
However, on the basis of the camera does not lie and having some prior knowledge of what the war was about and how it was conducted, I wasn't left in any doubt as to the horrors that were depicted here.

The majority of the exhibits were photographs taken by war photographers. Graphic and disturbing.
A particularly gruesome part of the museum consisted of mock ups of the Tiger cages that prisoners use to be kept in and instruments and tales of torture.
Taxi back to the hotel again after this, as Rita is still not fancying playing chicken on the HCMC roads.

So it's now afternoon and we're off to our Vietnam cookery lesson. Rita....

Hi peops,

Ahalf mile walk to our cookery class but do not relish the stress of crossing the road so we take a taxi. In fact I have not walked anywhere since arriving - everywhere is by taxi. Within minutes of 'reporting for duty' to the person whom I (wrongly as it turned out) assumed was our Cookery Master we were whisked away on the back of respective motorbikes, heading for the market to purchase the ingredients for our recipes. The motorbike journey was not far (but far enough!) and the only safety measure applied was a shout over his shoulder which was 'Hold on'. (Clearly, I have met my match when it comes to teaching Granny to suck eggs!). I did! This experience was only marginally less stressful than being a pedestrian. Anyway, at the market we bought chicken, lemon grass, wriggling fish, shallots, sweet potatoes and some other stuff that I didn't recognise. Then back on the motorbike only this time with loaded carrier bags swinging from the handlebars, as we merged and swerved along the road with hundreds of other bikes all put-putting and vying for the same piece of tarmac. Next we are inside a working kitchen which is in perpetual motion as the cooks are all busy cooking up meals for the waiting customers. A space is cleared for us 2 eager students, and we are introduced and passed over to a chef called Dac for the rest of the afternoon. He is half Vietnamese and half Chinese and he is 34 years old. His English is passable but boy do you have to concentrate to catch every word. I find I miss quite a few but am able to guess the gaps sufficiently. He instructs us and then ostensibly gets us to be hands on in making a basic fish sauce, vegetarian and also meat spring rolls and a chicken curry. Well, that's the general idea but in truth we are only about 10% hands-on as a moments hesitation on our part induces him to complete that particular task for us. All the other trainee chefs when not required to be in the process of cooking themselves, gather round and watch in obedient silence. He shows us how to chop limes, shallots, chillis, roll spring rolls, chop chicken, etc etc (you have the picture) and before you know it a fine feast is set before us and then a table in the adjoining restaurant is set for two. (Could that be us two by any chance?) Yup, it is. Hurrah! We start to tuck in and Dac appears pulling up a chair and he sits and watches us eat. It turns out that he is watching every mouthful. This behoves us to compliment him on the food and tell him it is 'very good'. Yes, it is, but we are all suppose to be pretending that we actually cooked it and this feels like we are being self-congratulatory. This expectation gives way to the lie that he knows that he really cooked it, and we know that too! He asks us at various intervals 'Can you hear the aroma?'. Hmmmm, we hum by way of reply whilst happily chomping. We would be chomping even more happily if he were not there. More compliments are exchanged (mostly one way from us to him) and then the meal is over. He invites us to his office upstairs for tea. Tea? But we have just eaten. He pours us green tea and then talks to us about Vietnam. He loves his country. He pulls a photograph from his wallet a picture of his wife and two children aged 7 and 6 a boy and a girl respectively. He married his wife when she was 15 and he was 24. He tells he is a Business Development Manager for Nestles and that he earns Us$30,000 per month. He pulls out his salary wage slip for our scrutiny. He insists we read the bottom line. This sum he stesses is net after all 'perks' are paid for. His restaurant business he looks after in his spare time. He tells us that the values of the Vietnamese are purely family, extended family. We look after our parents. If you do not work you do not eat. Old people cannot work and then they die due to abject poverty unless the family take care of them. He is already passing money on to his parents. He is proud to do so. He says they made huge sacrifices for his education and now he is in a position to look after them. He says that he respects the value of money and wastes nothing. (I know what you mean mate...I used to be like that until I came on this forever-holiday!). He says that what he earns from his full time job in a month takes the average Vietnamese 3 years to earn. We found out later that the average wage is US$100 a month which is about 50.00 sterling. Another statistic,65% of the population are under 30 yrs old. Only 16% are over 50 yrs old. This is the effect of war,3 million Vietnamese
were killed in the war (ended 1975) 2 million of which were civilians. So you see it wasn't just a cookery lesson as we were also treated to a history lesson and some cultural values that this society adheres to.
Emboldened by my bravery on the motorbike, I allowed myself to be persuaded to walk back to the hotel. After crossing just one road and with stress levels soaring, I quickly regretted this decision. Another lesson learned...

Good morning Vietnam (predictably..)- MORE ADDED ON THURS 19.01.07

2007-01-15T22:06:00.000Z

It's 5 a.m. here - I've still not quite adjusted to latest time change and so am 2 hours behind my normal time clock.

First of all, a note on last post. Should have read 'Ho Ho Ho chi minh' not 'ho chi
ho chi minh'. It was alluding to the battle cry of the sixties.

So what's been happening.

Well we flew out of Sydney on Sunday morning, bound initially for Singapore (8 hour flight).
Changed flights at Singapore to take plane to Ho Chi Minh city (1.5 hr flight).

This place was quite a culture shock. I actually feel as if I'm travelling now.
We sorted a hotel & taxi out from the airport and then were pitched into the screaming sensory overload that constitutes the streets of HCMC.
The road are full of buzzing motorbikes. The air is thick with petrol fumes. You could taste them from the comfort of the air conditioned taxi that took us to our hotel.

Our hotel.. it's ok - air conditioned room which is pretty useful in this constant 35C, tropical humid heat and very central. Mind you it's more central to the Vietnamese street markets and people's places than to the easier to access Western touristy area. It's taken us a while to orientate ourselves (no pun intended) and we've taken some odd routes through streets full of pavement traders looking quizically at these two middle aged foreigners wandering their streets.

On the subject of streets.. crossing the roads here is an art form. There are fainit white stripes on some bits of road, but they are meaningless. The tactic is to start crossing, very slowly, stand still or move positively and unambiguosly forward in order that the oncoming rush of motor bikes, cars, buses & rickshaws know exactly which direction to take to avoid you. It's all a bit unnerving at first, but you quickly get used to it. There aren't many clearings in the traffic (ever) so it's always a case of taking a chance. An additional hazard is that no traffic signs are obeyed. Nothing stops (except at a traffic light [motorbikes still don't] and there aren't many traffic lights). Also lots of motorbikes seem to go the wrong way down one way streets or merely decide to drive on the left - all adds to the pedestrians confusion. Just another point on the motorbikes - they tend to carry anything between 1 and 5 people. The 'fullest' one that I observed had riding on it (in order front to back : 2 yr old, 6 yr 0ld, dad, 8 yr old, mum. All ages being approximate of course - except mum and dad's whose ages I did not disclose.I did use a motorcycle taxi yesterday, after getting hopelessly lost. Was quite good fun actually.

Hi Peops, It is Rita here. It is Wednesday, 17.01.07 - and I am going to tell you about the nice time we had in HCMC (used to be called Saigon, apparently!, but what do I know?. At first I thought it was a subsiduary of Halifax Building Society)
They say travel broadens the mind? Well, it is certainly having that effect on my middle. When the weekend becomes a pernament fixture it might lose its charm but not its calorific content, alas. Anyway, I know Leigh has described the chaos of the roads but not to be deprived (& besides I need to let it all out), it is, my turn now:

So, on Sunday, 14.01.07 we left dear ol' Sydney at 5 am and arrived at 5pm in Vietnam. Our hotel turned out to be in District 1 in the heart of the city. The taxi drive from the airport to the Hotel left me sufficiently tremulous that I felt under house arrest for a time. Eventually I ventured out. This city is overwhelming, crazy, manic, where a family of four ride on the seat of scooter, baby at the front. Not a crash helmet insight. The roads are thronged with bikes - every kind imaginable from 3-wheelers, rikshaws and everything inbetween up to roaring motorbikes.Most people wear masks as the fumes are almost tangible. When the roads are too crammed to accommodate all the traffic, then the errant motorbike will appear behind you or whizz passed you on the pavement. It seems that nowhere is safe from he machine. Pedestrians cross slowly and diagonally intermingling with the flow of the traffic. The traffic's tactic is one of evasive action, so that's a blessing! This means they are not going to hit you as they aim to avoid you. HOw considerate! The hoots and blasting of horns is a constant raising above the grumble of the motorbike engines. It is serious sensory overload. Strident voices of the people who fill the streets (indeed seem to live out their lives on them, eating, socialising, feeding their young, selling their wares) are heard above the din, just. Early in the evening you see increasingly the women and children appearing in their sleeveless PJ's as if their daytime clothes have become too hot. The air is like a blast from an open oven door and today's recipe is the same as always, it's petrol for dinner! Yummy, I can taste and smell it already...

Monday, we are up so early that by 6.30am we are walking the streets and there is a lot going on. Most things here takes place in public view on the pavements, where they exist that is. For every stretch of pavement there is a stretch of rubble. Women are sqatting peeling, chopping, plucking, swilling, scraping every kind of meat, fish, fruit and vegetable. I recognise only half. Strange smells, sounds and shapes. (I think the sounds were squeals but I dare not look too closely). These workers lined the pavements for street upon street and they looked upon us with curiosity but not hugely clearing the bar above indifference, and they do not smile. I smiled at one woman who was walking by as she paused to put down her load on the shoulder pole. She observed my stare, then my reconciliatory smile and she looked away. We hadn't seen another Westerner yet - we were off the main tourist drag for sure. Anyway, my sandalled feet were bitten to bugary so on with the socks. I do this whilst sitting at one of the many pavement cafes that line the streets also. (There is not a street here that is not lined with something!) The pavement cafe needs to be qualified (& not jus by the Food & Hygiene Safety Board)...rather than conjuring up a picture in your mind of the Parisian type doing a spot of people watch, conjure up instead a small group of fishermen sitting on a bank of mud on little kindergarten size plastic stools, or simply squatting or sitting legs outstretched in front, sipping tea or sucking up long white strands of noodles. Bravely, Leigh and I sat down this fine Monday morning having walked for about 2 hours so its now 8.30amish, at a choice 'pavement cafe' for breakfast and coffee. We were quickly presented with bowls of steaming beef soup, accompanied by chopsticks and smaller bowls of mint leaves, beansprouts, red chilli peppers, peeled cloved of garlic and slices of lime. Our tootless hostess was at our side again obviously having registered our bewilderment. She plucked the mint leaves from their stems and showered them into our respective bowls, likewise with the bamboo shoots. She then pointed to the cloves of garlic and lime slices in the centre of the table. It would seem that this is a 50% DIY job.Half way through our spicy breakfast a scooter pulled up and Mum, Dad and toddler alighted (love that word and don't get much chance to use it!)and sat down opposite us. Their bowls of soup were promptly presented. I watched while they expertly and with due nonchalance skillfully stripped the mint etc and having filled their bowls with all the aforementioned, gave it all a good stir and swiftly demolished the lot with only the aid of their chopsticks. They ate their soup with chopsticks! Ha! ha! Leigh and I losing the battle of retaining the long noodles on the spoon long enough for it to reach the mouth were saved from further effort (& embarrassement) as out hostess summarily plonked a fork each in front of us. Hurrah - never hs the sight of a fork been so welcome. (A spoon would have been even better!). Toddler's eyes grew wide as he studied the couple opposite him, eatting their meal with a fork. Ha! ha! tittered he!

CON'D...see below:

And ao...After we had finished our spicy breakfast, our toothless hostess picked up our bowls and flung the scraps (we couldn't eat it all especially the red chilli peppers so early in the day)and flung the contents on to the pavement. All litter, leftovers etc are routinely deposited thus and one really does have to watch where one puts ones feet. During our morning stroll we saw flickering fish, slowly dying - in waterless bowls, we saw some being cut up as they sqirmed and the blood oozing out to join a steam of other fluids trickling along the gutterless ground. Anyway, as I said earlier,I had to put my socks on to stop any more bites and so I interrupted my slurping of spicy soup to put them on. Protocol and the exposing of one's feet at the table does not apply here. Certainly if this had been a cafe at Sydney Harbour I would have popped into the 'restroom' to perform this minor op for fear of offending another's sensibilites and doubtless to demonstrate just how well brought up I was!

How apt that I should be talking about feet just now because a guy has just tapped Leigh on the shoulder and asked Leigh if he is wearing his sandals. Leigh momentarily confused and then with clarity dawning, removed the said sandals from his feet and passed them to the guy, muttering profuse apologies. The guy put the sandals on his own feet and unsmilingly left.

What an absolute hoot! At this particular internet cafe one has to remove their shoes in accordance with the owner's religion. So here we all are keying in, Leigh beside me happily googling away.Apparently Leigh had obediently removed his shoes (great clodhopping size 45 jobs) and primly replaced them with a pair of nifty flip flops he spied conveniently in the doorway. He had carelessly presumed that someone (the owner perhaps?) had obligingly left them there especially for him. His perfect size too. Not so as it turns out. (Can't wait to add a few embellishments to this one at my next dinner party! I'm chuckling already. Leigh is still looking a little abashed...I have just stolen a glance. I suppose though that when you come to nicking a stranger's shoes and have to give them back, being caught 'red-footed' so to speak, it can take some getting over!)

Goodbye Sydney - as fine as a city as we've ever seen..

2007-01-13T11:21:00.000Z

13th January 2007 22:30

So, yes tomorrow we are leaving Sydney and should by this time tomorrow be in the company of Ho chi, Ho chi min, Ho Chi, Ho Chi Min.

Bringing you up to date with our escapades, yesterday we took a ferry across to Manly beach. A particularly hursuite and muscular little cove north of the city. Sorry, being silly there. A particularly attractive and very expensive beach north of the city.

In the evening we went to the Opera house (not so Manly) and saw a dance production which interpreted the Melbourne Bridge disaster of 37 years ago. This was Rita's idea. I remain staunchly heterosexual. Actually it was very well done and not a bit gay (well a bit gay, but nothing like as gay as the audience).

The acoustics in that building are fantastic.

Today we did the Sydney Bridge climb and just as a little parting gift to you/all our dear reader/s is the following picture from the climb.
Not too difficult really, but still good to do. Here's me and the missus at the top of the Sydney Harbour Bridge (134 metres above the harbour - or to put in perspective, twice the height of the Sydney Opera House [which is big]).

Top of the bridge - note authentic building in background.

..and Hello Sydney

2007-01-11T10:01:00.000Z

We visited Sydney (last 3 days in succession) as per our intention and were well impressed.
What a beautiful city this is. Magnificent buildings, loads of green areas, incredible harbour and a great buzz about the place. We could have done with having a bit more time here really as we're off travelling again early on Sunday. Off to 'Nam.

Anyway a few photies again, just to prove that we are here (or have borrowed someone elses pics).

Sydney Opera House

Bloggers with Bondi beach as backdrop.

View across Bondi Bay at Sunset

Hi. 'Tis I, Rita. Cor blimey t'was sunny today. Proper scorcher and predicted to be in high 30's tomorrow. I tell you this sunshine takes some getting used to. I thought the 'Downunder' folk were exaggerating. Phew! They were not. And for once, neither am I! Oh yes, Sydney is all it is cracked up to be and more. Still as typical tourists we spent this morning in the building of the transported convicts, their prison to be precise. It was a sobering and grim experience. The youngest convict was 9 years old and he had been convicted of pickpocketing. He died at the age of 22. His treatment of regular lashings with cat-o'nine tails at not infrequent intervals during his young life would no doubt have been a significant contributing factor. Anyway, not wishing to be morbid,(context of a travel blog not being appropriate) but being in the building itself where these convicts were held, and being able to see their dormitories etc was enlightening. The conditions were really harsh and punitive. Coming out into the glaring sunshine in a sparkling city was a bit of a welcome culture shock so we decided to do some more touristy stuff and this time we set off in direction of the Aquarium. The fish were colourful, very good at swimming (ha!) and soothing and the platypus was amusing (big beak) and the sealions were entertaining and the whales were huge, white and smiley and the penguins were just so cute, and the crocodile was big, green and scaley. It was all just as one would expect. Leigh got bored after a surprisingly short time though (& it was his idea!!!)- I suspect that it was the fact that there were hundreds of people crammed in to this underground Aquarium - mostly either school children and Japanese tourists. Of course, we are bang in the centre of the Ozzzzzzies' 6 week holiday.

Another day done. Another day of sight seeing. And tomorrow, 'same T-shirt, different day!'

Good morning Bondi

2007-01-07T23:37:00.000Z

Well, good morning it is.

We are now staying at Nadia's parents B & B in Bondi Beach. Nadia is Phil Pashley's sister in law - Mick (Phil's brother) & Nadia both live in Bondi.

The place (Bondi) was rocking last night. It's full of young people, so Rita & myself slot in nicely.

Talking of which, Rita has just gone for a run along the beach. She is hardly distinguishable from all the Bondi lovelies, also taking their morning constitutionals (well, not from this Internet cafe, half a mile off the front).
At least we started working on our bodies this morning, not an insubstantial task. We've been for a good swim in the 50 metre sea water pool next to the beach. It was cold. The weather here though is good - as indeed it was in our last 3 days in NZ.

More to follow - we're going to see Sydney soon - I hope he's expecting us.

Hi Peops, It is me, Rita. Good Evening. I have just read Leigh's (oops, I mean, 'Leon's') synopsis of Bondi and he has pretty much covered it! However, we have dined out happily but alas it is only 9.15pm and so far too early to go to bed, so here we are keying into our Blog to spend our time USEFULLY (for a change!). I could of course explain to you how I spent my birthday instead which was on 6.01.07, the day before yesterday. However, i do not wish to be accused of being one for a bloody good sob story so I have decided to move swiftly on...Actually, I am being a bit unfair here, because this year my birthday was at least 'different'. Previous years I used to spend it 'with friends, getting drunk'. Oh, how orginal! If you want 'original', well, let me tell you, 2007 hitting 56 (not quite qualifying for all varieties just yet, thank you), travelling on a bus, aeroplane and taxi all in one day, well, that was original! And then, it was just Leigh (Chirst, I mean, 'Leon') and me, a meal for two, a table for two, and three whole birthday cards (each one read and scanned over and over), cooked (not the cards!) via Master Chef LJM (you see using his initials avoids any confusion...) which was oh, dead good. So, dead good that we both survived the experience pretty well, really. Aah, are you still with me Dear Reader? Oh good. Such perseverance is admirable.

So, Bondi? It is Malibu without the class. Without the posers. It feels real. It is like a massive outdoor sunny gymnasium. Everyone either running, jogging, surfing, swimming, stretching, roller blading or doing gymnastics. They are all beautiful people and so slim, skinny and slender. (Of course there is a difference and if you can't see it then settle for emphasis!) Everyone seems to wear happy intelligent and engaging expressions on their faces. Clearly a daily dose of sunshine and exercise and being slim is good for one's sense of self. So, Leigh and I, determined to learn something from our exposure to these different cultures set off this morning for an early morning swim. Cripes, it was cold. So cold, it made me want to cry. I resisted, just. Then off for a run, along the promenade. Leigh did the same but went barefoot along the sand (in deference to his dodgy hips). Since then we have done some coastal walking and because we have been so 'good' we have rewarded ourselves this evening with a bottle of wine (yup, we need a reason) and a Thai meal. And now off in search of chocolate. Well, clearly we are good for Bondi and lets just hope that we are as pleasing to Harbour Bridge tomorrow. Ok that doesn't scan. I am not a poet. I emphatically deny that one. Oh, we agree then. Jolly good. Goodnight.

Leaving NZ

2007-01-05T08:06:00.000Z

Well it's Friday 5th January and we are in Rotorua. The place is full of boiling mudpools, thermal lakes and geysers and it doesn't smell too good.

The weather has switched from being cold & wet to scorching hot - just in time for us to prepare for our trip to OZ (Sunday Jan 7th).

Not too much to report in these last two days. We saw another film - Out of the Blue - which was all about a gun massacre that took place in Aromoana in NZ in 1992.
13 people murdered by one loner. I can't say I can recall the event back in '92. Very powerful film.

Anyway...all kiwied out now... here are a few additional photies from the last couple of weeks...

Kiwi multi-purpose Vehicle

Thermal Pool bathing (in comfort)

Dead End

Rita meets Maori

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

2007-01-01T02:21:00.000Z

Happy New Year to our reader.

It is Monday 1st January and we are in Napier, NZ. We are about 15 hours into 2007 here,whilst you guys back in the UK are probably still partying in the early hours.

We had a bit of a BBQ at the YHA last night and then went into the town where there was a free concert and fireworks at midnight.It was all very exciting. There is a drinking ban in place on the streets and this applied to the concert arena which is on the seafront as well. We managed to sneak some red wine & beer in, but it was actually quite refreshing to be in the middle of a town on New Years Eve where people weren't throwing up and showing their arses.

Prior to coming to Napier we had spent Christmas with Paul & Jackie in Wellington,then traveled up to the Tongariro National Park and then on to Taupo.

So let's talk about Wellington - Windy Welly as it's known colloquially.
We flew down from Auckland on December 21st and were picked up by Paul & Jackie from the airport. First thing we did was look around the National museum in Wellington. Very good museum this, with lots of stuff about Maori culture -all free as well as all the museums proved to be in Wellington.
We also took a tour of the Parliament building, which was very informative - also free.
Whilst in the City we took a photo of the war memorial - really to capture the script on it.

Wellington's a really interesting city - very compact, but with lots of good theatres and cinemas and a good cultural scene.
We went to a couple of the cinemas. The first film was garbage - Holiday, starring Jude Law, Cameron Diaz, Jack Black & Kate Winslet. Two hours of life wasted watching this.
The other one was The Queen -starring Helen Mirren,which was very good.
We watched this at the Embassy, which is a superb restored building, housing also a kind of Art Deco jazz bar.

Christmas Eve - here's a photo of us clutching our xmas card and a little golden artificial tree together with a drop of the red stuff.
Traveling opens up unique experiences.

Christmas Day - We had a really good Christmas day at Esther's (Paul & Jackie's daughter) house. One or two pics here to sum it up.
Good Company,good food,good wine - ideal.

On leaving Wellington we headed up to Tongariro National Park on the Kiwi Traveller bus. We have long since left off hiring cars now and will be taking public transport all the way up to Auckland.I did the Tongariro Crossing Walk- purportedly one of the Worlds best walks. I'm sure it would be on a good day, but it was cold, wet, misty and extremely windy when I did it. Still enjoyed it though.

We spent two days at the YHA in National Park. It was the worst of the YHAs that we stayed in. Those at Pahia,Kerikeri & Wellington all being very good.

From National Park we caught the Kiwi Traveller again up to Taupo. Taupo was an excellent place and just for a change the sun came out. It was here that we came across some guy sitting on a sofa in a hot spring (pic to be added to this post later).

From Taupo we traveled by bus across to Napier - the Art Deco city -where as you know we spent New Years Eve.
Today wemoved from the YHA there (as it's full)into a B & B. We have been to another wine tasting where we visited 8 separate wineries and sampled something in the region of 45 different wines. So am now feeling tired & grumpy (particularly after just checking on the New Year's day football results).

Diving day - Pahia

2006-12-27T07:10:00.000Z

We decided to book a day's diving in the Bay of Islands.

"Discover Scuba"

On the day of the experience, it turns out that we had another guy with us, also anxious to "Discver Scuba". His name was Tommy and he was German. It would have been very confusing if he was around in the war. The German soldier would shout out "Look out here comes Tommy!". All the troops would look around anxiously expecting the British Army to be on their heels, only to discover it was in fact, Tommy the German.

We were taken behind this little back street shop and had to change into our wet suits.

Then we were taken on an extremely bumpy speed boat ride across the Bay of Islands.

We then were kitted out with our full diving gear. At this point Rita began to hyperventilate and had to be dragged from the ocean like a flipped over inflated black beetle. That was the end of the diving for her.

So now there was just Tommy and me. "How heavy are you?" asked the instructor, then took a summary glance at the two of us and said "Oh you're about the same - 90 kg". Fatboy Merricks took this as a compliment, failed to disclose his real weight and so ended up being given the same weighting as the much slimmer and streamlined Tommy.
Next we were in the water, Tommy near the bottom, me despite my deflating my buoyancy jacket, still bobbing about on the top. Next stage was for more weights to be added to my diving suit. In I went again. Up I bobbed once more. Eventually I was weighted down with various rocks, stuffed into the pockets of my diving jerkin and sure enough, I plummeted to the bottom.
The instructor (Manuel or Emanuel) kept beckoning us to swim with him, but all I could do was scud along the seabed. I was too heavily weighted now. I spent the whole of my "discover scuba" experience with my nose scraping along the coral reef and using my hands to give me some propulsion, beckoning terror and death imminent to be sure.Tommy was ok.

My mother always said it would be death by drowning, but I think she had beer in mind. If she'd seen me she would have no doubt observed that I was tanked up again!

After the diving experience we were hauled back into the boat and two of the guys then went diving for scallops, which we were forced to eat raw (tasted ok though).
Our boat driver, Timmy, an English lad just learning the ropes managed to crack the windscreen of the diving boat on the way back by slewing the boat at great speed across the wake of a passing much bigger vessel.The boat bellyflopped into the wake with an almighty whack.The owner, Trevor (Trivor), who was also on the boat was not best pleased.

Paihia, Dolphins & Leon's birthday..

2006-12-13T22:13:00.000Z

This is our accommodation for the four nights in Paihia (bay of Islands)..

So here we were then at The Pickled Parrot. An unassuming little backpackers (i.e. dump) in the back streets of Pahia. We've booked in here for four nights, as we were informed that accommodation in general would become harder to find as the Christmas Hols approached. We are in Tui (as picture). It's miles from the toilets, but very close to a busy road. It's also close to all the tropical undergrowth, which harbours biting things.

Pahia is the main resort town in the Bay of Islands. It looks like there will be lots to do. There also seems to be lots of vacant accommodation.
I did an excellent walk to the Harura Falls today - highlights included the walk through the Mangrove swamp (over a walkway) and the nesting Pied Shags.

MANGROVE SWAMPS

PIED SHAGS NESTING

Rita didn't do the walk as she had an attack of the vapours and retired to her room. I came back from the walk with my hip aching, boiling hot and gagging for a beer.
We went out and had a few beers. Rita showed me her 'cluster' of five insect bites on her arm. It reminded me of her phantom snake bite, experienced in Saltburn on the Cleveland Way (many years ago). She recovered well from that and the prognosis here is good.

13/12/2006

Next day was my birthday. 55 and still in short pants.
The intention was to swim with the dolphins today. The dolphins hadn't been told.
We went out on the trip out of the bay and after about 2 hours we encountered a pod of the said mammals. They were quite happy to be swimming alongside our boat, but we were not allowed to swim with them as, we were told,some had calves with them. God knows how the calves got so far out into the water - maybe the farmer left the gate open.
Anyway, the dolphin swim was off. But, hey, never mind. In compensation for this we were offered the experience of being dragged along in a big net by the boat. I declined. Rita double declined. On watching some of the people who took up this 'challenge', I didn't feel I'd missed too much. Maybe when I'm really old, I will think "I wish I'd gone in the net that day". It must have been great in the British Navy in the eighteenth century when Keel Hauling was the 'must do adventure activity'. Oh well. we did get some snorkelling in though.
On arriving back on dry land, we decided to celebrate my birthday.
I'll let Rita tell you about the celebrations....

Happy Birthday Leigh! Or is it Leon? The birthday celebrations were going so well that I was seeing double by this time anyway, and didn't really mind which one I was with! But I am skipping a bit (better than staggering eh?). We started off by having a drink or a 'handle' as the Kiwi's call it, in a Mauri bar. We then scoured the town's menus on restaurant doors for a 'little of what you fancy'. We chose a good one 'cos we ended up with quite a lot of what we fancied, but I guess any of the restaurants would have been happy to serve us with a bottle of Marlborough Savignon Blanc each. Yup! Apiece! Even the waitress looked a little surprised at that request! Leigh had to order a beer though whilst he waited for a whole minute for the wine to arrive. Thinking about it they all arrived together in the end and it was such a small table there was hardly room for the plates which actually were the very last items on the table to arrive. Why the detail? Well, because, that is where the devil is, and besides as you are reading this at work, then I am helping you to pleasantly pass the time, n'est-ce pas? Well then. And so...we had a delicious meal of 'Fish of the Day' from the fragments of the meal that I can recall and then weaved our way back to our local, a Mauri bar. Therein we spied a juke box, so in no time at all we were equipped with more beer and were singing along to Eddie Grant's 'I don't wanna dance, dance with you Baby no more. Oh, the feeling is bad, the feeling is bad. I don't wanna dance...' ad infinitum well almost as neither of us knew anymore of the words than that, so there was some intermittent humming. We soon found that we had an accomplice, a drunken Mauri bloke. He had a lovely voice. And so there are the three of us holding up the bar and engaging in our own singalong. This Mauri chappie is joined by Lorna, a stunning Mauri woman in long gushing but tightly fitting red dress, who, bleary eyed Leon proceeds to hang on her every word, seemingly. Suddenly there is no music on the juke box and the Mauri guy has stopped singing too, but an altercation is emerging between our attractive Lorna in our midst and a 'Stark-raving-no-chance-red-head Kiwi bloke'. Next thing much to our consternation he shifts his angry attention to us. To US! Long hard stares and on and on he stared and next thing, I blinked and 3 or 4 blokes are on him, arms around his shoulders, pointing him in the opposite direction and talking in firm reassuring terms. They calmed him down. And she's gone. Drunken Mauri bloke moves away too. Just Leigh and me then. Next thing, Betty and her daughter arrive and start chatting to us. Betty is a 55 year old toothless Mauri Grandma and her daughter, Catherine, tells us she has 7 children - and Leigh plants a kiss on her cheek and says 'Bless you!'. He is clearly impressed by her having 7 children despite not wanting one of these things for himself! Later, I see him pat Grandma Betty affectionately on the back, like a long lost pal. Then Leigh is shoving money in the juke box and the dancing recommences - only this time we are a happy foursome and some members of the group have something in common. Grandma Betty and Grandma Rita are both 55, only I still have teeth. We are jiving and diving and swinging and the room is going round and round. Suddenly the bar is deserted and someone is hoovering up around us. Leigh badly misses a step down as we take our leave and he nearly falls down. Phew! Are we desperate for our buddies or what! Should have been a memorable birthday, but apart from the few aforementioned hightlights most of it was already obliterated by the morning!

BIG WIDE KAURI TREE

Dunedin - then arriving in Whangarei

2006-12-11T00:16:00.000Z

Whangarei Falls

It's now Monday lunchtime - 11th December 2006.

We are in Whangarei. We will be leaving for the Bay of Islands tomorrow, probably staying around that area for 8 or 9 days before making our way back to Auckland and taking a flight to Wellington.

So how did we arrive here...

We arrived in Whangarei hot & flustered after changing planes in Auckland (on flight from Dunedin) and attempting to retrieve Rita's left luggage whilst at Auckland airport.
Our flight from Dunedin landed at Auckland at 11:55. We needed to be on our connecting flight to Whangerei (pronounced Fonga-Ray) at 12:35. We had a mission to complete within this 40 minute changeover time. That was to go to the lost baggage area at the International terminal and pick up the bag that was left on the plane on our Roratonga to Auckland flight (containing lots of pounds, US $ and NZ $, total was circa 600 pounds in sterling value - soz but no pound signs on this computer).
Trouble was the International Terminal is about one mile from the Domestic, so we had to run from Domestic to International - took about 12 minutes (WR: 3 min 45secs).
When we arrived at the Int. Terminal we had to locate the baggage desk. Eventually (time now about 12:20) we found the lost baggage office. Rita scurried up to the desk..."We've come to collect a bag - prop reference xxx, we need to be back at the Domestic terminal to board a flight in 10 minutes". Baggage attendant blinked at her. "Where are you going?" he asked . "Wangawee" Rita replied. "Sorry". "Wongaway". Eventually he established that we were bound for Whangarei. "I'll send it on there - now go and get your plane". We sprinted??? back to the domestic terminal only to find that our departure gate had disappeared. Rita pushed through into the security check area of another departure gate, much to the astonishment of one of the security gate guys. "Where's departure gate 34?". "Where are you going?". She shrieked "Wangawoo", the panic is obvious by now.
The security guy laughed then pointed us to where gate 34 was, which was in fact at the other end of the airport. Sweaty & hot we arrived and our plane (if you could call it that, for in truth it was no wider than a sewer pipe) was waiting paitiently on the runway. We caught it and sat like a couple of broiled birds for the next 30 minutes, which constituted the flight to Whangerei.
On arriving in Whangarei, we found that there was no car hire facility from the airport and we were about 10 miles from town, without transport.
Fortunately, help was at hand....
A couple of Kiwis were observing our movements and obviously took pity on us. They offered us a lift into the town. We gratefully accepted.
Turns out that this couple were looking to start a car hire business and run it from the airport. At least we could contribute something in payment for our lift as we had some tales to tell with regards to Car Hire. We were shown around Whangarei and taken to some very good accommodation, which they could reccommend. Their reccommendation was good.

Rita here. Hello everyone. Sorry about the disruption to the flow but I am going to tell you about our arrival at Whangerei, so will need to recap a bit on Leigh's introduction to it that he has just made above.

And so, here we are having just landed at this airport after only a 40 minute flight and we are still hot under the collar (& not only the collar!) after our frantic and quite useless antics at Auckland airport.

So, first things first, we need to assess our position. Now lets see. It is Saturday, (9.12.06) afternoon. We have no accommodation booked. We have no transport, and this airport is a bit out of the way. Aha, we spy a phonebox. Phone takes our money but does not connect. Several dollars later and lots of sudden disconnections at the point of hearing the receiving person say 'Hello' we attempt to hire a car from the airport so at least we can escape the airport and find accommodation. At the carhire desk we are told, 'No cars available - all out. No car until Monday'. Leigh who is quick to celebrate anything is likewise quick to become morose. Lots of self-flaggation for not pre-booking carhire going on when we are approached by a couple who are in their 40's (I guess) and asked us if we needed any help, and 'were we alright?'. As I say, Leigh's mood was glum and we must have looked desperate/pathetic (take your pick). We explained our predicament and next minute our enormous rucksacks were being hoisted into the boot of their car and we were happily sliding into the backseat. They drove us into the town centre and gave us a guided informative tour of the town as we sped by. His name was Tony and she was Michelle. They advised us where was good to eat, which places were expensive and pointed out the harbour and tourist information and suchlike. Not content with that, they insisted on pulling up outside various types of accommodation and seeing if it suited us or not. Eventually they recommended 'The Aaaron Court' aka 'the Quiet Motel'. They even waited until we were properly booked in to ensure that we were sorted, and then they proceeded to unload our rucksacks. We had to settle for offering them a mere 'thank you'but what we felt like doing was inviting them over for dinner and splashing out on some decent Pinor Noir. The Welcome to Whangerei could not have been warmer. We wish them really well with their airport taxi service but one word of advice to you Tony and Michelle, next time your passengers offer to pay; 'TAKE THE MONEY!" Bye for now. Rita. (Next 'voice' is Leons!)

Yes, Hello, Trotsky here.

10/12/2006

We took up a walk to Whangarei Falls today (see pic). Whilst we were there, some guy decided to jump off the top into the water. O.K. it's only 26 metres high, but Bungy Jumping without the rubber band looks a bit dangerous to me.
He survived unscathed, letting out whoops of triumph as he swam to the shore. Good to be alive.
We were talking to a Swedish couple who have moved to NZ and visit these falls and have a meal here each year on this day (as that's what they did when they first came to NZ). They said that a few people had died leaping from the falls. Apparently New Years Eve was a popuar time for such shenanigans.In true Kiwi style there are no barriers at the top of the falls to prevent anyone from getting to the jumping area.

11/12/2006

Still in Whangga. Managed to pick up a hire car today. Rent-a-Dent Datsun Sunny.
So, we've gone from posh RCI + sporty Toyota Camra to booking Pickled Parrot & Rent-a-Dent in about three weeks. What will become of us?
Guess what, we went to look at a house while we were here. It's amazing what you can get over here for about 130,000 pounds.
We're beginning to like the lifestyle over here and we are becoming drawn to Real Estate windows and looking at prices. Bit like when we go to Cornwall really.

Tomorrow - Pickled Parrot.

Central Otago Rail Trail bike ride

2006-12-08T04:39:00.000Z

Whew - not been with you for a few days now as we've been doing the bike ride - 110 miles approx.(took us 3.5 days to do).

We're now in Dunedin, having taken the Taieri Gorge rail journey which we picked up from a place called Middlemarch at the end of the ride. Dunedin's a little bit of a culture shock after having spending several days out in remote wilderness. One day we didn't see anyone else all day on the trail. Did see lots of sheep though.

It's 17:40 on Friday here - you chaps won't even have started your Friday back home and here we are, the weekend's with us! Thank God it's Friday. What a week.

Actually we had a good bike ride. The weather held out (although it did rain heavily last night - thankfully we'd finished by then).

Tomorrow we're flying up to Whangerai, which is up near the Bay of Islands in North Island. We're hoping for warmer weather.

When we get chance to blog again we'll give details of bike ride and attach some photos. There's a particular good one of Rita and myself sat outside a shop in Ranfurly - I have my arm around her, and I must say she was looking exceeding attractive that day, so watch out for that one!

We'll update again as soon as poss - probably edit this post, rather than create a new one.

So now we're in Whangarei, about 1000 miles from Dunedin...but this post is all about the Otago rail trail bike ride.

3/12/2006

We stayed at a place called Clyde at The Hartley Arms Backpackers hostel, which turned out to be a little gem. The couple who ran the place were very friendly (as is the Kiwi wont, we are finding more & more). Bed & Breakfast for two (private room) came to $65, which equates to about #24 sterling. Puts our YHA prices in Blighty into perspective.

4/12/2006

Setting out from Hartley Arms - Day one.

Cycled from Clyde to Ophir today.

...stopping on the way at the local Post Office, with Strange Post mistress in attendance.....

30 miles today on our hybrid bikes on very gravelly surfaces, so it was actually a reasonably hard ride. The route is quite exposed in places, but we were fortunate it wasn't particularly windy today. En route we stopped at Chatto Creek (see PO above). there was a bar there ..and not much else.The proprieter did not stock mineral water on account of 'never having been asked for it before'. She also sold stamps, but only for internal post to NZ.
Ophir is a very small place, which apparently often experiences the highest & lowest annual temperatures in NZ (not in the same day). Temp range is from -20C to +40C. It was somewhere in between today. Today was our first encounter with a disparate group of Kiwis. A woman of about 65 years old, a man of about 35 years old, a very shrieky woman who was around 30 and a strange bloke of around 35 who didn't utter a word, but did a lot of staring.
After we'd been to the one and only pub in Ophir for our evening meal (fish,chips & beer), we came back to the backpackers accommodation common room and were immediately regaled with some remarkable shrieky tales of how today's cycling had gone, by the now recumbent Shrieky woman. She had flung her whole, not inconsiderable body across the only comfortable seating in the place. Suffice to say, we retired to bed early.

5/12/2006 Ophir to Wedderburn

Weather dry & cool today. Another 30 miler, but seemed a bit harder than yesterday, mainly because there were some quite monotous bits where we were ploughing throgh thick clinker (the sort of stuff that goes down before roads are surfaced).

When we arrived at Wedderburn, guess who was there - you've got it - Shrieker & entourage.
We stayed at the Wedderburn Tavern - a prize dump, I have to say.
The landlord was sociable enough though. Turned out he used to be a flight attendant with Air NZ and knew Derby as he used to stay there with his friend, Mr Alan Jarvis, who came from Derby. Mr Jarvis was also a flight attendant with Air NZ.
Shrieker's name is Pauline, we know now. She will continue to be known as Shrieker within this blog.

6/12/2006

Day Three - Wedderburn to Hyde (about 30 miles again)

Lovely sunny day today. Set off at 10:00 a.m. with spirits high & hearts aglow.
Arrived in interesting township of Ranfurly after about an hour. This town is famous for it's Art Deco architecture. When I say town, it actually only comprises about 4 streets, but it was a very good place to spend a couple of hours.
It was here Rita and I had our picture taken.

A great days cycling today, we arrived at Hyde and stayed at The Central Otago Hotel.
No sign of Shriker today, I think they'd gone Curling in Naseby. They ceratinly weren't staying where we were.
This hotal was like a palce. Beautiful rooms, wooden panelling all done up to the highest standard. Alas there were only three guests that night. Thos being ourselves and an English chap, Neil, who was frequenter visitor to New Zealand and did lots of walking whilst over here - he was actually walking the trail that we were cycling. The owners of the hotel were out when we arrived and so Neil had volunteered to show us around. We chose our room and then settled down to an evening meal which had been pre=prepared for us by the owners.
The main course was delicious - the dessert (homemade ice cream), the best we'd ever tasted. the teenage son of the owner was around, he told us her Ice cream recipe was a secret.

7/12/2006

Hyde to Middlemarch (20 miles)

Fairly short ride today, but it was very windy.

We arrived in Middlemarch by 12:30 a.m.
It was quite a desolate place, nothing like when Mr D'Arcy lived here (did he? I'm not too good on Jane Austen).
Were having lunch in the Kissing Gate cafe when who should appear, but Shrieker & Co.
We booked into Blind Billy's Holiday Camp - Billy really is blind - his car registration (I think it's only driven by his wife) is 'NO SEE'.

Blind Billy's is all a bit ramshackle, but we did manage to cook our tea in the old railway carriage that serves as the comman room on the site. Beans on Toast.

8/12/2006

Blind Billy booked our shuttle to the airport & a hotel in Dunedin for us. Very efficient.
In the afternoon we took the Taeri Gorge railway, which we had pre-booked. This is a scenic route which runs from Middlemarch to Dunedin. Shrieker & Co were in the same carriage. We kissed them all goodbye at Dunedin station (metaphorically). I had to bob back into the station though to get something from the Tourist Information. There was the silent bloke, again, on his own now. Leave me alone!

Doubtful Sound

2006-12-02T23:15:00.000Z

On Friday morning we left Queenstown on a trip to Doubtful Sound.

Doubtful Sound is a remote fiord in the South West of South Island, strictly a fiord we are told, rather than a sound. It was originally named Doubtful Harbour by Captain Cook. He observed the steep sided granite rocks that bounded the inlet and doubted whether the boats would be able to get back out into the ocean under the power of their sails, should they venture further in.

Before we arrived at Doubtful Sound, we had the option of taking a steam train ride as part of the journey. We decided to do this and were mighty pleased that we did.
We rode on The Kingston Flyer - only on a ten mile trip, but what a superb old train this was.

So, on to Doubtful Sound.
A coach journey, a boat across Lake Manipouka and the anotherbus journey across gravel roads brought us to Deep Cove at the end of Doubtful Sound.
The Cruise was brilliant. Food excellent, crew first class.

We did some kayaking on the Fiord as part of the trip. That was a great experience. In the wonderful tranquillity of Doubtful Sound all we could hear were the birds and the lap of the water - really peaceful, beautiful scenery. we were dead lucky with the weather as well. It was bright warm and sunny and considering the area gets around 8 metres of rain a year, that was, as the Kiwis would say, good as gold.

We spotted some penguins - 3 or 4 anyway, but as ever wildlife proved quite elusive for me to photo (I'm sure Mr Lewis will remember the hedgehog incident!). However, look closely at this picture and you'll see a little feller in the middle. This is a very rare Fiordland Crested penguin.

Spot the penguin

One of the best bits of the trip was when the engines on the boat were killed and everybody just sat and absorbed the quiet. Nothing that man had had a hand in could be heard. We just sat on the deck of the boat and reflected on life. Sounds very mystical, doesn't it? It's a bit hard to describe really, but it was a unique experience, for which words cannot really do justice.

Suffice to say, we loved Doubtful Sound - anyone going to NZ, please try!

A few other Doubtful sound photies....

Wine Tasting - 29 November

2006-11-29T22:15:00.000Z

What a wet day in Queenstown - November 29 2006. It did not stop raining and was pretty cold with it.
Last night (Wed) snow fell down to 600m level (Queenstown is at about 350m above sea level, so did not affect the town) - nevertheless the mountains appeared to be covered this morning. Summer starts on Friday!

However, we largely avoided the rain all day by dint of us going on a wine tasting tour, visiting some of the Central Otago wineries and tasting various of their splendid (and not-so splendid wines).

The varities that we sampled were : Pinot Noir de Blanc (a very good rose), Pinot Gris (very similar to Pinot Grigio), Riesling, Some champagnes (Pinot Noir/Chardonnay blend) and the best of all, Pinot Noir. The 2005 Pinot Noir was the very best that we sampled - owing its quality to the fact that there was a very poor harvest that year (frost killing many vines), which in turn - we were told - produced a more complex wine.

Pinot noir is only produced in three areas of the world - Burgundy, Oregon & the Otago region. Co-incidentally (or not, probably), these are all on the 43rd line of lattitude. Spot the difference : the 1st two are in the Northern Hemisphere of course.
Anyway, evidently my four hour trip (and approx. 20 samples of various products) have turned me into a wine expert. All I know is this, I like the taste.

I think I will pass this post over to Rita now in order that she can expand on the day's events..

Mornin' Chaps. It is a wet Thursday morn in Qtn so good oppo to bloggo. Surething, we 'hit' a few Wineries yesterday with a guide and managed to continue sampling and tasting without a guide once we were back at our 'pad', sans guide/sans sense. Apparently we ate and watched a film after that but to recall the detail now is all a tad hazy. Anyway you don't really want to know what we dined on, do you? I mean, a blog from 13,000 miles away in fantastic NZ should not really be reduced to the Banal should it, about what was on our plates? Oh, you do? You peops are so unbelieably inquisitive or are you just humouring us? Well, ok then, if you insist. It was leftovers! Ha! ha! More of Leigh's home cooking. Chicken a la Merrix on a bed of sphagetti al dente. (Needed a few more minutes - but didn't get it!) with a chilled to perfection Marlbourough SB.

But more about the Winery visit...

On the blurb it gave us the option of pre-selecting lunch either hot meal or a cold lunch (sandwiches and a piece of fruit). We decided to pass on this in favour of bringing our own packed lunch in the interests of ensuring quality food and not being ripped off. The memory of a lunch we had in Haast whereby a tourist only passes thro' once, dictated the culinary standards of the chef and we had no choice but to be subjugated to it - was still ripe in our collective memory, so Leigh popped off to the supermarket early doors so that when lunch arrived we were able to produce our own fare. So far so good. On the coach we were introduced to our fellow winery-goers (winery-growers came later): Mr and Mrs Middle-aged from Chicago, Mr and Mrs young marrieds from York (work for GNR), Mr and Mrs Early-40's from Auckland and Two Post-Grad Female from Holland and your's truly our Two Valiant Brits (us!). Ten in total plus Driver-cum-guide (Goldie Hawn).

There were four Wineries lined up. One pre-lunch and 3 post lunch. First Winery was tantalizing as we sipped wines that barely covered the surface of the glass and the interludes in between fills were longer and less interesting by the word. The cave we stood in surrounded by barrels was echo -ee and cool. We were then ushered into a Posh, high roofed, subdued dining room. The table was set for 10 but food was produced for 8. (Quite so, 8 had prepaid and ordered their luncheons - two had not!).
I admired the table setting. The table itself was highly polished, with oak tall back chairs, the linen napkins (I used to call them serviettes but recently learnt that was so Del-boy), were crisp white and so starched you needed your Dad to unfold it for you. Cutlery was heavy, silver and shiny, extravagant crystal oval shaped glasses and colonial ambience. Polite conversation ensured and timorous social smiles and oh, so terribly reserved and then the food came out. Crickey it was a bloody banquet. I dare barely glance at it for fear of looking deprived/envious. Out of the corner of my eye I observed the most fresh top quality looking food ranging from freshly cooked pasta al dente (not a second more or less than perfection) and cheeseboards

Thurs eve:
... Look here, I've got to cut Rita short. I'm back in Internet cafe Thursday evening. It's still cold & wet but have done good bike ride in interim.
Rita's not here at the mo', but in the interest of keeping things up to date, I'm going to publish and be damned. I'm sure I will be.

Look out for this post being amended though, probably in a couple of days when we're on the Otago bike ride. See yous later.

Queenstown - Monday

2006-11-26T22:17:00.000Z

"Pots at Queenstown craft fair"

Did a reasonable bike ride last night which tested the old knee - seems to be ok so next weeks Otaga Rail trail ride still seems on.

The Kiwis (people not birds - although this might also apply) are very laid back & friendly. It makes you reflect when you're in different countries, which seem to offer much more than the UK. Loads of space, clean air, lack of significant crime, relaxed pace of life, kids all enjoying the outdoors, freedom!!! Or is all this just coloured by the fact that we're on holiday. Not entirely.

Good Morning Chaps! Leigh gone to refill cappacinos so I have moved on to his computer. I note his last line was about being on holiday. Well, this Monday morning is like being at the office. We are both on computers in this internet cafe during their 'Happy Hour' between 9am - 11am it is only $3 per hour as oppose to $6. This affords us a computer each and cappacinos. So, more costly in the end but better value, n'est ce pas? We have to rack our brains this morning to transfer funds and e-mail bank manager and letting agencies and do such business like stuff that it already seems really alien. And so taxing! There is only so much one can do in advance of going away and unforseen issues arise that need answers and it is so hard to think beyond where one's next ice cream is coming from...

This coming week we have only two trips planned so no exciting physical challenges (thank goodness!). One is a jet boat trip upon some beautiful but unpronoucable lake and the other is an all-day Winery Tour, lunch included. Otago wines I believe. Leigh and I (how queenly! well, tis Queenstown)have found ourselves quite partial to NZ wines. Quel surpris, I know! Oyster Bay, Pinor Noir and Marlborough SB all excellent but expensive. There are no Tesco deals here.

So, this is just a bit of a humdrum week as we will be making it up as we go along. This town is highly touristy full of quaint cafes, bars, restaurants and lots of attractions. So, very easy to while away time plesantly in the sunshine reading newspapers, our books and reading menu boards as we make tricky decisions about lunch/evening meal etc. All very good but makes one so lazy. Lazy is good whilst there are so few demands.

We have been invited for complimentary drinks this evening by our host and hostess (we have had a glimpse of them)and to meet the other residents. Leigh not too motivated by this prospect (that is an understatement) but for me, a complimentary drink is not too be sneered it. I put forward my most persuasive argument and you all know what that is: 'If you look after your pennies the pounds will look after themselves'. Leigh retorts that 'I get more like Molly everyday'! (I take this as a compliment!). Oh, I will just let you know that Leigh has been doing some healthy cooking. The kitchen is this apartment is well equipped and spacious. Leigh cooked a rattouille which we had on Saturday night with sweet potatoes and as left overs on Saturday night with chorizo sausage chopped into it with beetroot, salad and crusty bread. All very good while it lasted. Tonight we plan for a curry. Fascinating this blog isn't it? Well, read it at work then, - that way you will feel that you are not missing anything.

Next blogging content will be telling you about our Jet boat and Wine tour so for the next few days we are just going to do some sauntering, mooching around and indulging ourselves on being as lazy as hell and if the social conscience raises its head we will pour some NZ wine over it!

Toodle-pip.

Queenstown - Saturday 25 November

2006-11-25T02:37:00.000Z

Hi Fans, Friends, Family and Foe,

Howya'll doin'?

We are in Queenstown now in a luxury apartment, complete with complimentary newspaper delivered each day. We certainly don't get that at home! It is an apartment for 6 so we rattle about in it a bit. Suits us!

I achieved a minor victory today and that is we have returned our car to the Rental Hire Co. so now not only are we genuine backpackers - oh the joy of carrying one's rucksack as opposed to popping it in the boot, but also we save ourselves $45 dollars a day. This means we can afford Oyster Bay SB and Marlborough Pinot Noir and maybe even a haircut for me and a chincut for Leigh!

So having spent almost 24 hours in this small busy town we have made some plans which are to go to the cinema as much as possible, to embark upon a jet boat trip and to do a Winery tour and to try out some bikes to test Leigh's dodgy knees, hips and ankles on in preparation for out booked cycle tour next week. Next week we will be truly homeless and if cycling not possible then without means of any transport. We will have to concentrate on not getting ourselves arrested as itinerants!

Sunshine beckons and one minute left on screen before I lost text. Good bye!

Fox Glacier, Arrowtown & arriving Queenstown

2006-11-23T21:17:00.000Z

We've now driven back from the West coast and are in the Queenstown area (not a million miles from Wanaka!).
We're governed a bit at this early stage by the fact we booked some accommodation (weeks1 & 3 in NZ) with our timeshare points - which, incidentally, we wished we'd never bought - and this has caused us to take an odd route on our travels . i.e. travelling north from Wanaka to west coast and then back down same roads, but further south towards Queenstown.
We're actually in a quaint little town called Arrowtown today. It's a reconstructed gold mining town (very twee!). It has got a superb little cinema though, where we went to see 'Beyond the Sea' last night. Film's about the life of Bobby Darin and stars Kevin Spacey. Would recommend it (definitely one for Mr Pashley as music is right up his street!).
Oh we had a small incident in Franz Josef the other night. I managed to lock the car keys in the boot of the car. The car naturally was locked as well. This resulted in us having to call the AA man, who proved to be very congenial chap and managed with the aids of wires and inflatable air bags to reach the internal boot open mechanism next to the footwell of the car. Because of this delay though we revised our original plans which were to go further North and then head back towards Queenstown via Arthur's Pass.

Hey - I'm now in a different Internet cafe, same day, different place. We're in Queenstown. Rita's replying to e-mails.
First impressions of Queenstown weren't good, lovely setting, horrible buildings. Since then things have picked up and we're now by the lakeside and the sun's out (sporadically), so things are not too bad.
Already spotted a cinema and I think we'll go and watch 'Departed' (Jack Nicholson, Leonarda Decaprio & Matt Damon) tonight. We like films.

Anyway, let's cast our minds back a little to Fox's Glacier.
I know the mints have been around a while, but I think that the actual glacier is even older. We just viewed this one, rather than walking on it.
We stayed in the village of Fox on Tuesday 21/11/2006. Accommodation was fairly tight, but we struck lucky. We booked in at a backpackers hostel, but ended up in a 3 bedroomed bungalow which we shared with two other couples. This proved fortuitous, because we got on really well with our fellow travellers.
In fact we're meeting Alan & Sue (from Halifax) in Queenstown sometime this week and we went out for a meal with them in Fox. They are fellow veterans of the Tod Boundary walk.
The other couple Jim & Sue were Aussies and had spent over 3 hours stuck on the top of a glacier during the day because the helicopter could not take them down until the cloud lifted a bit. They didn't seem too dispirited by this experience though - at least they had the right gear on which is more than some in their party did.

Oooh I shouldn't go without having a quick moan about my decrepit joints (non-smokables). I had cortisone injections in my hips before I left the UK and these seem pretty effective. Trouble is my knees are giving me gyp now, particularly the right one , where the underlying problem has been exacerbated by the Glacier expedition. Rita tells me I'm getting more like Jack (my dad) every day and now I seem to have a limited flexion of my leg, in the same way that he has. His problems been with him for the last 55 years though, since he broke his leg playing footie at the age of 31! Anyway, Rita's getting more like Molly.

West Coast - Haast & Franz Josef

2006-11-20T05:24:00.000Z

Blogging from this bus

Have left Wanaka now and travelled up to a place called Haast on the West Coast, where we spent one night.

The drive is absolutely stunning - even when raining. You essentially travel through a high mountain pass and the lush vegetation of rainforests.
We've had a heck a lot of rain.
The average for the West Coast of NZ is in the region of 5 metres per year - compare this with somewhere like London which has only 300mm per year (or to Phoenix which this year to date has had 0.63 inch!)and you can see that it's pretty wet.
Even for NZ they've had a very wet spring/early summer. So whilst all you folks back home are basking in the warm November sunshine, think of us.

Franz Josef Glacier (Our view from inside the Glacier)

L & R have conquered FJ Glacier

Yes Peeps that is really us, Leigh and me - we have not paid anyone to superimpose our cardboard cutouts up there on the glacier (We are saving that trick for the bungi jumping!).

And so, what day is it? Oh yes, it is Monday, 20.11.06 and this morning we met our guide at 8.30am and embarked upon our Franz Josef Glacier trip. We had heard it was not for the faint hearted, so I knew instinctively that this was for us! (ha! ha!). To our one guide there were 12 of us in the group, 5 Germans, 5 Japs and us two valiant Brits. For once, I was not the weakest link. So, a multi-faceted new experience one might say. Yoko occupied that dubious pleasure. For a start she had the most unusual way of crossing the many fast flowing streams that we had to face on the 2 mile walk to the glacier itself. She would successfully and urgently step on the first two or three rocks (within the stream itself that is, that the guide had just skillfully skipped across on, followed by the rest of us, all except Yoko that is, cos she and her loyal husband were always at the back/last)and so...

Then as we waited and observed, Yoko would veer to the right and wade into the stream, carefully avoiding any further rocks as she strode across like a trapese artist trying to maintain his balance. And then, Yoko's husband would do exactly the same thing almost as if a game of copy cat was on the go between them. With each stream the procedure was the same. Suffice to say this couple ended up wet through to their knees. From our dry-land position this was fascinating. We concluded that this is some ancient Samurai custom.

Once having ascended the intrepid JF glacier and calmed my jelly legs I was able to summon all my reserves of bravery and actually open my eyes and look around me. Crickey me...all the ice. And ice with blue streaks at that! It was a tad chilly too, I can tell you! It was especially hard on the knees on the descent as you had to stamp hard on each step to ensure your crampons spiked the ice properly so as you did not slip. Our guide had warned us to be extremely careful to stamp each step on the ascent as it was steep and slippery and if you did slip it was a long way down and you could take someone else 'out' with you. As you can imagine these warnings posed a real dilemna for me as I did not know whether to have Leigh in front of me (soft landing but how could he help me if he were in front?) or behind me as he can be a tad cavalier and not one for detail!

Btw, we are not sure what the stream wader's name really was. It would really be a coincidence if it was Yoko though! (If I saw Yoko n a pub, I'd say: 'Oi, Ono, No,No, Ono').My goodness, we are really sensible, aren't we?.

Soon leaving Wanaka..

2006-11-17T06:57:00.000Z

Just a note really to let you know that some photies have been added to Rarotonga post - blimey, what a palava!

Hi Chaps, I've been skiving whilst Leigh does all the keying in and technical stuff with uploading photos. So, just to let you know that I am still around but not coming back 'with a vengeance' as I noted Leigh stated in previous blog-text. I really can't understand how Leigh can attribute this 'vengeance' characteristic to me...

We've had a great week in Wanaka and tomorrow we have to be out of our luxury apartment by 9.30am and take up our usual 'homeless' status. Only, this time not even a Motorhome between us. Just our feet and heavy rucksacks. Oh deep joy! Oh, I am not being truly honest here as we do have a smart rental car. It is gleaming white and is brand new and its make is a Toyota Camry Sportif (2.4 litre) - Leigh likes it anyway. 'Sod the shuttle and coach' he says. 'A car is the thing' This being on holiday lark is good fun when the most exacting challenge is how to set the blooming DVD. Luckily we managed it, adjudged (adjudged???) by the fact that we have watched a few films this week: Good Night and Good Luck; City of God; Brokeback Mountain; March of the Penguins. Oh, I've got to end this blog as Leigh has just pointed out that the program I want to watch tonight starts at 9.30pm and it is already 8pm and we have yet to dine and walk back to our luxurious over-looking-Lake Wanaka-complete-with-absolutely-topnotch-everything apartment. (Oh, 2moro is Budget Backpackers Hostel). And the program I want to watch? Well, its Gordon Ramsay at La Gondola in Derby bringing staff and furnishings into the 21st century. Dario's Dad owns it, so it has some personal interest. Not seen Dario since 5.08.06 at Ben's wedding. Soooooooooooooo, time to go. Goodnight and Good luck.

Wanaka - Thursday

2006-11-16T03:02:00.001Z

So, back in the old dub,dub,dub Internet cafe in Wanaka.

We did a cracking walk yesterday, which took us into the Mount Aspiring National Park - scenery & weather were magnificent. Today it's raining, but warmer.

After the kayaking trip a couple of days ago we managed to lose between us a red swimming costume, a black waterproof (complete with room key in pocket) and a little white towel. It must have been all the excitement.
Fortunately the guys who run the Kayak place have kept them safe for us and in fact, I've just picked them up.
Most unlike us two to lose anything!.

You may have noticed Rita's not been blogging for a while. Do not assume that you are spared. She will be back - and with a vengeance.
At the moment she's gone to try & sort our phones out. We're still being charged at about #3 (where's that pound sign gone?) a minute for UK calls. So when some tenant calls saying that they need a lightbulb replacing it becomes a very expensive business for us. Talking of tenants, for any football (or should I qualify that somewhat), Derby County fans out there, we have a certain Jon Stead renting a property. It's the first time I've ever hoped a R*ms player would do well for the club - poor chap's only on a 3 month contract apparently.

Kayaking on the mighty Clutha...

2006-11-15T04:57:00.000Z

The largest volume river in NZ and the seventh in the world, the mighty Clutha river had not seen a day like this before...
Guided by our trusty mentor, Ben, we set out to conquer 18 kilometres of this fast flowing river. So, aided only by young companions Courtenay and Sam we set about making our mark upon it.

For your delectation we have added a few photies to prove that we did it.
It was a great day and the river water tasted divine.

NB: In case you didn't realise Leigh's safety helmet colour is Green - Rita's is blue (with an 'E' on the front)...

Leigh extremely happy to be reunited with his boat

It's all plain sailing...

Arriving in New Zealand

2006-11-12T01:13:00.000Z

We arrived at Aukland on what had become Friday afternoon, having set off 4.5 hours earlier from Ratotonga on what was then Thursday morning.
Problems! Rita had misplaced part of her hand luggage - viz a viz an M & S bag (posh, not carrier), containing about $200 NZ & #420 sterling (pound signs disappeared from this keyboard). Also contained her one & only waterproof for the trip and possibly some US dollars. Serious stuff for a couple of doleites such as us.
We only discoverd this missing hand lugage on landing at Christchurch (internal flight from Aukland). We stayd over night at a motel near the airport in Christchurch. Over breakfast Rita received a phone call from some Kiwi chap who had found her bag. It is now in the care of NZ Airways lost baggage and we will pick it up from Aukland on Jan 7th before flying out to Sydney.
We have since flown from Christchurch to Queenstown (rocky old flight it was too) and hired a car. We're now ensconsed at our RCI resort in Wanaka (70 odd miles from Queenstown) and I'm updating the blog from an e-mail cafe there.
It's now Sunday lunchtime - we're 13 hours ahead of the UK now.
I ended up watching Premiership footy half the night as the games in England kicked off and we have the rare luxury of TV (including Sky Sports). Doesn't sound much of an adventure, does it?

Rarotonga

2006-11-08T22:48:00.001Z

No updates for a while, hey - fear not, we are still around.

Tomorrow we fly to NZ (Christchurch via Aukland) - that's when we actually lose a day. At the mo' we are 10 hours behind UK time, tomorrow (or should that read Friday) we will be 12 hours ahead. It's like magic.

We had a bit of a dodgy landing at Rarotonga - the pilot 'thumbs' Gilligan was obviously unsure of where the runway began and ended , but all was well in the end. Truth be told it was very windy.
Day one's weather was dull, day two there was a torrential downpour. Since then it's been brilliant - as soon as this tropical sun rises it scorches.

I'm going to let my dear wife contribute once more in a few minutes, she is busy replying to e-mails at the moment as we sit in Dougie's Internet cafe working on separate PCs.

Rarotonga is a bit of a throwback to fifties Britain- not much in the shops and everything shut on Sundays. We did manage to find a restaurant open on Sunday lunch, but when I asked for a beer, I was told that they couldn't serve me one. It took some convincing them that I was over eighteen . I then found out that they don't serve alcohol on Sundays anyway.

I've abandoned (oh, this is me, Mrs M btw), that screen due to being outrun by the egg-timer so it was a 'read-only' experience. Very frustrating these internet cafe computers, you end up paying for time you don't actually get and one would be better off sunbathing instead! Sunbathing? Oh yes, it might be November (is it really?) but everyday - apart from the first few days here, crickey me what a turnoff that was - has been brilliant. So much so that we are actually swimming in the sea to be precise, in the lagoon, before breakfast each morning. Yesterday, we went kayaking. Our enthusiasm more than made up for our lack of synchronisation and after a few concentric circles we were able to 'steer' in a straight line. One point I would like to elaborate on is the rain we experienced when we first arrrived. I know you thought you were being let off lightly with a mere aforemention alluding-to. Let me tell you that as the rain plummeted down in relentless sheets so did Leigh's spirits ebb. There was talk of booking out and changing flights to go to NZ earlier than planned. (Hence the title of our blog...'Follow the sun'). Never mind that we are paying over 100 quid a night here; never mind that there would be a not altogether insignificant fee to change our scheduled flight; nevermind that we would have to pay for extra accommodation once we arrived in NZ, (Christchurch actually). But hey presto by mid morning on Monday it brightened up. The clouds cleared, Leigh cheered up immensely and so did I. Sod the fluctuations of the weather, Mrs M is keeping tabs on what she calls 'unnecessary expense'. For the rest of the day I heard Leigh breaking out into song - such was his renewed found humour - 'Hello Mudder, Hello Father, wait a minute it has stopped raining...etc'

Must fly as I am about to be timed out and this 'Post' is endangered!
(scary!)
Publishing right now...

Some photos of Rarotonga - inserted on 16/11/2006...

Reflections on Rarotonga

2006-11-08T22:48:00.000Z

Now that there's bit of distance (2500 miles) and 2 days, between me and Rarotonga, I've been reflecting on what a wonderful place it is.
O.K., when I first arrived , I entertained such thoughts as, "blimey - there's nowt in the shops" and "all the cars are clapped out" and "what are all these dogs and hens doing strolling around the streets". Well, yes all that still applies, but the reasoning behind it is now clearer.
Rarotonga is the antithesis of the Consumer Society. Any goods that are sold here, excepting fruit & vegetables have to be imported.
The nearest major countries to Rarotonga are NZ (2000+ miles), West coast of USA (4000 + miles) and Australia (2000+ miles). Rarotonga has only one tiny port (and a population of around 10,000 + a smattering of tourists to feed), so it would be totally impractical to import the many varities of produce that we in the West enjoy.
The Hens are truly free range, the dogs seem to live idyllic lives basking in the sun and running along the beach. They dogs seem as laid back as the people. I think there are so many dogs here because when asked where they wanted to live, the nearest place name that could be detected in their answer was RARO - TONGA.
Tha cars are clapped out, because there is no urgent need for them and posessions don't equal status here. There is one road which circumnavigates the Island - it's 20 mile long (or round). Not much point having your 6 litre V12 SUV here.

The great thing about Rarotonga, is it's very remoteness.
It will never become a major holiday destination, but just be the place one comes across when travelling between Los Angeles and Aukland.

It's so tranquil and relaxed and those beautiful blue lagoons, with the white beeches and the soft breezes blowing through the palm trees.......

Enough. I must crack on.

LA Airport - flight delays

2006-11-03T22:53:00.000Z

Just a quick note - our flight's been delayed by 3 hours (the Pilot's poorly), so I'm using airport facilities for Web access - it costs 25c per min, so having now checked e-mail, I thought I'd just add this short Blog. Will update, hopefully when in Roratonga......

Well, I'm back - It's Friday evening in LA (6:00 pm)- our flight is not leaving until 3:00 a.m. tomorrow. We then lose a day (I think) on the way to Roratonga. All being well it will still be November when we arrive.
I've left Rita reading the Stephen Knig novel ,Cujo - all about a rabid dog. She's enjoying it.
It's quite difficult to leave this airport as walking seems to be prohibited within the the bounds of the City. Apparently (I am reliably informed) there are 400 million cars in the US - 100 million of those are within the Los Angeles basin (which I guess includes al the satellite cities such as Anaheim, Long Beach & Santa Ana etc.) Hey, what about this for a moneyspinner as well - I'm paying 25 cents per min for this access and holding down the keys (as in arrow keys) doesn't work, so everything is slowed down and the time clicks on.
Anyway, today we returned the RV and were given a free lift to the airport, so arrived here at 12:00 pm - blimey by the time we fly we will have been here 15 hours!
In compensation we have been offered a buffet meal at the LA Hilton - can't wait.

We've had a really good time in the States - some pre-conceptions have proven flse, some correct, but I reckon we'll definiitely be back. There are ssome things which are the same as in Blighty, particularly all the fast food outlets - which I guess were all here first anyway. You know the sort of thing Macdonalds,Dominoe Pizzas, Pizza Hutx and the old Elvis Presley franchise, Burger King.

Hoping we can catch up with some more blogging v.soon.

more catching up 22/10/2006 - ,

2006-10-30T21:47:00.000Z

So here we are just outside the wonderful Joshua Tree NP (where we are camping). Back in California again....

Still trying to catch up on the blog here, courtesy of San Bernadino County library, so let's look back to the 22nd October...

22/10/2006 - Las Vegas (morning) then on towards GC

We both woke up early today, still over-excited from our trip to The Strip. Rita went for a run to calm herself down, I went down the road to Sam's Town (Casino complex) and dobbed a few more dollars in the hands of the dealers.
Drove to a place called Selignan in Arizona, via the Hoover Dam. We were stopped prior to going over the Hoover Dam : 'Hom3eland security, Sir - we need to look in your vehicle'. When it became apparent that we had no fully armed tactical nuclear warheads either under the van,under the bed or in the sink,we were allowed to pass.
Selignan's on the old Route 66 - no kicks to be had here though.

23/10/2006

Travelling to the Grand Canyon today, via somewhere called Williams (where we managed to catch up a few days blogging, but have now only just got to the day where we did that in our blog). Our first vierw of the Grand Canyon wa sall we had led to believe it would be. Awesome (in the literal, rather than commonly used sense - e.g. that bar of choclate is awesome or Cliff Richard is awesome [o.k., I know that wouldn't be used, but you get the picture]).

24/10/2006

We'd decided to go on a Ranger led walk into the Canyon today. this meant getting up at 6:30 a.m., which really proved to be the hardest part. When we got to the top of the Canyon, we were met by an 80 year old guy, named John. He was to be our leader.
As it turned out he was brilliant, very informative, fit as a fiddle and in tune with the surroundings.There were about 9 in our group, the majority around our age and the pace was very leisurely. It wa sconsiderably harder climbing up again. I have to state at this point we only descending about 1100ft into the Canyon. Going to the bottom would involve something like 5,000 of descent.

Catching up - 18/10/2006 to 21/10/2006

2006-10-27T17:11:00.000Z

18/10/2006 - Lone Pine

Went to a museum of film this morning, which turned out to be a museum of cowboy films. A lot of them were filmed around the location of Lone Pine, using the Alabama Hills which nestle just above the town, this was quite appropriate.
We enjoyed the museum - brought back memories of Saturday morning flicks ('Come along on a saturday morning, greeting everybody with a smile').
In the afternoon we walked in said Alabama Hills and I swear you could hear them thar' bullets ricocheting off the rocks.
We missed our bus ride back (last bus 4:30 p.m.), but were offered a lift by a complete stranger who became aware of our predicament when we were asking about taxis in the local shop - this is yet another example of the generosity we have encounteredd at the hands of the Americans since we have been here. I've got to say that most of my preconceptions about the Americans have been wrong - have found them very helpful, polite and generous - most of them aren't too keen on the Monkey either!

19/10/2006 - Death Valley

Drove to Death Valley today. The temperature was only high eighties today. The highest recorded this year was 127F in July. we were in an area which was 252 feet below sea level - amazingly it didn't seem wet at all.
We met a couple of the most ancient cyclists you could imagine - they were on sit-up and beg city bikes. God knows where they had travelled from as there was something like 100 miles of arid desert between them and the next settlement in every direction.
We arrived in a village named Shoshone just outside of Death Valley and decided to stay there for the night.
Had a swim in their hot tub swimming pool, then went for a 'meal' at the local restaurant. Crowbar - let Rita expand (oh no, she already has), Let Rita tell you more....

20/10/2006 - Shoshone then on to Vegas

Had Breakfast at a different cafe this morning. At first I thought that we had come into an antique shop but then among the artefacts, books, pictures and incongruous
piles of items stacked up we spied tables & chairs. Background music was the type that was Tai Chi medatative type.
When our proprieter arrived he was relaxed, cheerful & then served us the most delicious food which he cooked himself.
This place was in such a contrast to Crowbar. The other end of the spectrum.
Travelled on from Shoshone to Las Vegas (84 miles). Of course, we got lost in Vegas, but after buying a map eventually found our way to the RV site (which was located about 8 miles from The Strip, in what appeared to be a pretty dodgy area. Mind you with all that money sloshing around and all the lost fortunes & lost lives in the City, I should imagine that there are many dodgy areas, peopled by desperados and losers, literally.
Went for a swim in a very cold pool, whilst Rita dipped into the hot tub with an elderly couple from Oklahoma. Apparently they lived in Vegas for six months of the year (oct-Mar)and it looked like they had stacks of dosh.
We came to the conclusion that they came to Vegas for their plastic surgery each year and spent the six months there allowing their bruises & scars to heal.The woman had had so many face lifts that they could not do anymore - next time she was going to have her body lowered!
We prepared for tomorrow's big gambling debut (ok I might have done it once before), by playing a card game called Lexicon with dimes & bottle tops as the stake.

21/10/2006 - Las Vegas

'Ohhhhh Las Vegas, you'll be the death of me, night after night, watching the wheel go round'.
So Saturday comes and today we are going to the Strip. Some dollars have been cashed and Rita's given me $140 spends. Let's see how it goes.
We caught a bus into Vegas (free, because the Bus driver couldn't be @rsed to collect the fares). That was the last freebie of the day.
We arrived at Ceasers Palace & were instantly met by huge banks of flashing slot machines, being played in the main by oversized people with vacant faces. Occasional loud whoops from one area of the Casino would indicate that someone, somewhere had won some bucks.
We wandered down the Strip - each Hotel/Casino trying to outdo each other in it's ostentation.

Leigh's become restless and so it is Rita's voice here now. And so: 'Mornin'Yall' or as they say in some parts, 'How Are You?' (voice rising - doe,ray,mee).
Question mark is academic as they neither want or request an answer. Nevertheless force of habit compels me to reply each time with a demure 'I'm fine thank you'. This exchange is completed by a non-plussed expression on the face of the 'inquirer'.

I have yet to complete my episode on Dining with The Elks but this is on hold for now as I need to catch up a bit chronologically-speaking and as Leigh has started Las Vegas I will complete it. I read somewhere that Las Vegas was Spanish for 'Lost Wages'. It was so apt I ventured to say to Leigh that I was surprised they had been so honest in naming this city that, as everything else about the city appeared to be completely dishonest and besides it is hardly a PR exercise is it? He enlightened me. How naieve am I?

Anyway, 'lost wages' aside, my experience of this place is that I would rather have spent the day at the Derby Evening Telegraph! On the Saturday morning (21.10.06) we arrived at The Strip in the city of sin at 10.30am, after a really promising start of a free busride. I offered the driver a $20 bill and he growled at us to 'Sit down'with a dismissive wave of his hand. Indeed this augured well. Into Caesar's Palace Casino first off as recommended by my hot-tub sharing bathers on the Friday evening.I felt immediately overwhelmed. I was spellbound, this was indeed science fiction. I was out of my depth, an alien, did not speak the language, could not read the signs and felt dizzy, giddy and started to wonder if I had my migraine tablets in my bag. And that was only looking at the carpet. I needed time to summon the courage to look up. Before me was a sea of slot machines, row upon row, sparkly silver screens with the most abject-looking people working them. This area was vast - on the scale of the Grand Canyon - but hey, I heard we live in a world of contrasts, and so we do. And so we do. Everywhere you look was flashing lights advertising every kind of gambling experience. One that struck me as particularly decadent was 'TURN YOUR PAY CHEQUE INTO AN INSTANT $10,000'. I remembered that slogan again as we waited for our bus home that night and saw the beggers and the Depressed. Glenda and Leroy my Friday night hot-tubbers had advised me about which slots were looser, but I decided to give them a miss. This couple explained that they come to LV every six months for the hot weather and the gambling. (He is a farmer). They bring their 2 cha-wow-was (read phonetically as I have no idea how to spell that. What do you think I am, a genius?). Anyways, they look like they've had more face lifts and boob jobs (particularly Leroy) between them than hands of poker. Oh, I digress. Back to Caesar's Palace and the 'slots' loose or otherwise. Once inside, and warding off migraines, it seemed as if we had become encapsulated into some kinda theme park buzzing with dazzling bright lights and giant constructs of Temples and Grecian Gods. Suffice to say I had my flutter on roulette - it was the only thing I understood how to do, and having lost $20 in less than 5 minutes, I quit. Once outside we needed to cross the road, this in itself was a challenge. To cross the road you had to go over a bridge which was accessed both sides by a hotel lobby, a massive area, and guess what? Yup, it was full of 'slots' & poker tables, (actually as I later discovered, so were the local markets and garages - and probably your own private ward in the local hospital!). This city is a hard environment, a nightmare and it erodes humanity and put me in a bad mood, (nowt to do with losing 20 bucks, 'onest!). My love of the place was not enhanced by the fact that we had to cross the aforementioned bridge severally times to get to the east side. Trouble was no one seemed to know which was the east side, least of all us. Trial and error were our guides.

Good night Vegas and never again!

Next installment is the closing episode of 'Dining with the Elks' (I know, I know, you can't wait)but for now I see that Leigh has wandered off so I go in pursuit.

22/10/2006 - Las Vegas to Salignan

Quiet day - drove over Hoover Dam and then into the night (and out of Nevada into Arizona). Stayed at a camp site in Selignan, which used to be on Route 66 (when Route 66 existed). We didn't get too many kicks here. We stayed on a near-deserted site, next to a railway line. There were only occasional trains passing (all freight), but they were about 500 trucks long and consequently took 15 minutes to pass. Still, we slep ok. Grand Canyon tomorrow.

Back from G Canyon - road to Phoenix..

2006-10-25T19:43:00.000Z

By the time I get to, she'll be rising....
Well we're on the road to, but might not get there (may try somewhere en-route).

Anyway we're back in Williams having visited GC (60 miles north) and still trying to catch up with our backblog of posts..so..

15/10/2006 - Yosemite bound

Well we arrived at Yosemite village in the heart of the National Park soon after lunch and camped at a site which had no running water or electricity, but huge fire pits and BBQs. A group of Americans behind us had set up a gin-gan-gooley (or whatever) type of encampment. They were singing cowboy songs & eating vast quantities of beans (along with half a cow that they grilled on their king size barbie).We thought that they might be whoopin' and a hollerin' into the night - but come 9:30, all was quiet again.

16/10/2006 - Yosemite

We did a walk this morning up to a place called Glacier point. It was only 4 miles (well 8, including descent), but we climbed about a 1000ft in altitude. The highlight of the walk was Rita feeding a Steller Jay (I think that was her name), raisin yoghurts. Even the bird got sick of these after a while and started to secrete them in the ground - probably in the hope of opening a 'tweet' shop at some later date.
In the afternoon we went to a talk on trees, given by one of the National Park Rangers (far superior to Queens Park Rangers). Excellent talk - we know all about Ponderosas, Sequoias (spelling?), Redwoods, Aspens, Douglas firs and also forest management(which Gary Megson never quite grasped).

17/10/2006 - On the trail of the Lonesome Pine.

Drove down from Yosemite to a one horse town named Lone Pine, nestled in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. This place looked like a real old western town - we half expected some drunken cowboy to come flying out of the saloon doors, past the horses tethered to the posts and into the dust.
In the evening at the RV park we tentatively called in at the clubhouse to see what was going on and ostensibly to pick up a few leaflets...

(Please note Dear Reader Leigh has abandoned you on the word of leaflets and has taken himself off to his favourite hideout 'The Restroom', so I am in the hotseat now), oh yes...a few leaflets. There were quite a few people in there sitting in big comfortable chairs around a big log fire and on the tables here and there were dishes off dips, crisps and nuts etc. (Get the picture?). Our concentration on the leaflets was seriously distracted by these really nice looking nibbles, but we tried to conceal our interest in them by stealing just the occasional glance. We must have been rumbled though because soon someone from one of the big easy chairs approached us introduced himself as Vin and invited us to 'dig in'. We summarily obliged. After a few mintues he was joined by someone called Ann and the four of us chatted. Apparently everyone is that room was part of a group called 'The Elks' who were on holiday together. They told us about their fund raising activities and we talked about our trip. We noticed an Anna-like character in the kitchen (and was that her Mum in there too?) who had completely taken over the kitchen in this clubhouse and were clearly preparing food on a grand scale. Leigh and I must have hidden our true identities pretty well, cos shortly afterwards we were invited to dine with them. Or could this have been an impromptu extention of their charitable activities as they observed that we had cleaned out the dips, crisps, nuts etc? We readily accepted this most kind invitation and with less than 10 minutes notice nipped back to our RV to 'get ready'. We hadn't spoken to a soul for over a week up until now (Leigh and I do not count each other as having a 'soul') and we realized we were so scruffy. He had not had a shave or a shower since Sunday and the last time I brushed my hair was in England (I failed to pack one). Oh, forgot to mention that our hospitable hosts had also given us glasses of tequila to go with our dips/nibbles - grateful as ever, we were! This tequila was served up with lime on a bed of ice with a little red straw.

And so, back to our RV and I made frantic efforts to do 'something' with my hair. Inspiration struck. I found my nailbrush and had some success with straightening my fringe out and donned earrings and lipstick. Meanwhile, Leigh spun around a few times (no doubt in an attempt to get some air around him in the interests of diffusion), as he had nowt to change in to. And so we arrived, smiling shyly and clutching a bottle of wine. We were instantly introduced to everyone - 14 smiling faces and invited to help ourselves to the food. Food was good...chicken, corn on the cob, salad with walnuts, sweet cherry tomatoes and garlic bread followed by ice cream with a rich fruit sauce.
(Oh, Leigh is back. He is over my shoulder, reading above. He is asking me 'how long do I think people have to read all the detail, I am giving? I have decided not to reply but to just 'keep going') So, forgive this aside. Now, where was I?

A-ha.

Barely having sat down at the table, Ann stood up and made a little speech about the presence of this evening of 'Our special guests from England' and then there was a round of applause. Leigh and I joined in (like self-congratulatory chimps) 'cos at first we thought we applauding others... the penny dropped when we realized it was us! We discreetly slowed our clapping to a stop...just in case The Elks thought we were either complete buffoons or merely conceited Brits! Super! I leapt to my feet to return compliments within speech format and raised glasses again. (Any excuse for a not too obvious gulp!). At our end of the table(s) we had Cheryl, Norman, Harvey and Jeannie - all sociable, lively and engaging. Turned out Norman was Jeannie's 'little brother'. They asked us lots of questions about our trip and gave us lots of tips and places to look out for. They all came from Santa Maria, north of Santa Barbara and are on holiday together for 2 weeks in their respective RV's. They take it in turn to cook for the group and move around from place to place. (A bit like ourselves - only we don't take in turn to cook!)

Grand Canyon

2006-10-23T16:54:00.000Z

So WHERE were we...?

Well a couple of days was trying to update but lost our internet access.
So are now going to try and recap on waht's been happening over the last few days.
I think the last update was on leaving San Francisco - that was on 14th October.

Are now sat in an intenet cum everything else cafe in a town called Williams, about 80 miles south of the Grand Canyon National park. Let's recap....

14/10/2006 - Leaving San Francisco

Well we managed to find our RV place without too much problem. Took the BART (Bay Rapid Transit rail - not the yellow Simpson boy) to a place called Hayward to pick up RV. A bit hairy leaving SF in RV,as unfamiliar with roads/vehicle etc. - but at least the American drivers are relaxed and give you time to assess your next move - the total opposite of our experiences in Italy. Similarly the Yanks have a far more laid back attitude to life/money/time etc than the Ities. You may wonder why I'm mentioning the Italians in this blog, well it's just that the two nations seem diametically opposed to each other in their attitudes to life - and I never thought I'd say this, but give me the Americans any time.
We arrived in a place called Grovedale (West of Yosemite) at dusk and parked our RV up there. Shared the evening with a couple from San Francisco (David & Jennifer), who had an eigtheen month old girl, Sarah and a 3 year old dog Einstien (V. intelligent).
We drank David's Pinot Noir (Napa valley, Sideways style) and offered in return our $4.99 bottle of Chablis?? It was all we had. We had a good evening.

Next morning we went down a Gold mine (honestly), with them, before taking our leave and heading for Yosemite.

15/10/2006 - Yosemite bound

The Wilderness days

2006-10-20T16:59:00.000Z

Well, we're still here folks - Rita's not gone to Hollywood and ended up on the producers casting couch, we've just been away from Internet access for the last few days - so where were we.....

Last day in 'Frisco

2006-10-14T15:41:00.000Z

We're off to pick up our motorhome (RV), this afternoon. Back to the life of itenerants, living in Californian, rather than Yorkshire fields.

Had booked Alcatraz this morning, but we're going to have to try and sell these tickets on (Round trip for Rita, One Way for me)as we need to pick up RV at 2:00 p.m.

Am now sitting in hotel lobby, browsing progress of football back in England - as it's 4:41 p.m. over there (8:41 am here). After last week's result, maybe I should take a rest from footy this season.

Had a Japanese meal last night, including some Sake which came in square receptacle and overflowed into the saucer - traditional Japanese custom.

Ey up - Rita's about to tek over.....

Indeed I am. And this Sake turned out to be 16% proof. When he emerged into the city lights it became apparent that Leigh was not as sober as he may have presumed, swaying slightly and going in completely the opposite direction to 'home'. We ended up in Borders at 10.30pm (hey, man this IS a 24 hour city!), and ordered creme brulee coffees. Looking into Leigh's eyes (well, he was sitting directly opposite me and I perforce had to look up on occasion), I noticed that his eyes were bloodshot and half closed. I kept my observations to myself. A moment later Leigh mumbled that he was 'terribly terribly tired'; as we were esconced on high stools I decided immediately to leave him there in case he fell off - I would not be involved in the embarrassing situation of having to deal with human crashes in the tranquillity of Border's bookshop. (If only...!).

Blogging off again now as have to become ticket touts and sell our Alcatraz tickets as alas no can do.

San Francisco

2006-10-13T01:31:00.000Z

Hello again. We are still on holiday, nearly two weeks in and feels like our annual fortnightly holiday should be drawing to a close...but mercifully, it ain't!

Arrived in San Francisco Wednesday afternoon after a 6 hour flight from Newark International. The first thing that hits you is the steep long streets - evidently built on hills. There are 43 hills in the city. We took a bus tour this morning which lasted 3 hours and the tour guide gave us information about the effect of the gold rush and all sorts of other facts relating to the emergence of San Francisco. Typically as that was before lunch, I have forgotten most of it by now. I do recall one detail though and that is that there are 5,000 homeless in this city - actually you can see them everywhere rummaging through the bins and begging. Some man with some political clout shut down two big mental hospitals in the early eighties (must have been a Republican!), and all the patients were thrown out into the street.It's a city of great wealth - very much in evidence so some stark contrasts.

Tonight we have tickets for Janis Joplin at a local theatre and tomorrow we are hiring bikes so that we can cycle across Golden Gate Bridge and then boast about it.

The weather is in the low 70's today, with quite a bit of sunshine and a bit breezy too. Apparently their autumn is now their summer - according to our guide. So far so good and no earthquakes and no one flying into buildings here and there are quite a few tall ones to have a go at!!!

Just blogging off now.

Leigh:

Time for tea now - hope Rita's not too disappointed to find that Janis won't be singing live tonight - it's just a play.

Philadelphia - again

2006-10-09T03:05:00.000Z

Hi Chaps and Chapesses, - ok just Chap then, still in the singular I see and male this time. Well, Hello!

Whilst we have the luxury of Nigel and Fiona's home computer we thought we would treat you to another blog. You may see this as overkill, but I assure you that there will be long silences to follow, (promises! promises!), so lets make hay, hey? Speaking of which, the weather here today was 71F with lots of sunshine. People were actually stripping off and sunbathing in Fairmount Park (Philly's answer to Central Park). Philly is big and spectacular with lots of skyscrapers, museums, grand statues, plaques, waterfalls, very wide 'sidewalks' and touristy. The main fountain in the centre of the city had pink water sprouting forth which was eye-catching to say the least. As dusk fell we noticed that the towers on some of the very tall buildings had pink tops via pink lighting (presumably), and then, come to think of it, there had been alot of pink in evidence throughtout the city that day! We learnt from our hosts via a casual remark over dinner that evening that it was Breast Cancer Awareness Day weekend?)in Philly right now. This explained alot! By tomorrow, Monday, the fountain will no longer be pink! Not too late for us though - we have the photo of a pink fountain 'cos we believed this was some strange phenomena; now we know otherwise!

Its hard to believe that this time last week we were in Bury St Edmunds...was that really only a week ago. The three day spell in New York (which we both loved incidentally), seems to have created the illusion of an oasis of time in the interim - no doubt due to its rauncy and fast pace of living. Philly whist Proud and Grand is calmer and slower which is great by way of contrast.

Good night! This blog has made me sleepy. No doubt this will have a similar effect on you...I do hope you are not reading this at work!

Philadelphia

2006-10-07T13:55:00.000Z

Phil & Delphia Freedom - who can ever forget that famous couple , immortalised in song by Elton John.

Well, we're in Philly now, staying with Nigel & Fiona (and 18mth old Roman). So far they're putting up with us pretty well and even Rita is behaving.
Nigel's not slept for 30 hours (surely he can't have been be that worried about our
imminent arrival?). Truth is, he's been working on a bid for his Company which needed to be in by 3:00 p.m.Friday.

Yesterday was hectic leaving NYC - we needed to catch the 14:40 train out of Penn station to get to Philly (We're allowed to call the place Philly now as we've been here over 12 hours). Owing to a small misunderstanding between the two of us we ended up catching it by the skin of our teeth. Running across NY with a 30lb rucksack on your back and another weighty bag in your hand is not that easy.

The misunderstanding came about like this:

Rita wanted to go for a run in Central Park.
So we left all our bags with the Bellman at the hotel (grown up Bell Boys) and then went to sort out our train tickets. Sorting out the tickets took much longer than anticipated as it was a three action process. 1) you had to make reservation over phone 2) get ticket from automatic machine 3) show passports and check baggage in - that might sound like 4 actions, but anyway, it was not straight forward.
Anyway, after obtaining tickets we walked up Seventh Ave in direction of Central Park. After about half an hour Rita said 'it's taking much longer to get back to the hotel, than it did to get here'. I didn't hear her as the noise volumes around Time Square (people & traffic & sirens) were too high (that's my excuse). So we just carried on walking until about 15 minutes later Rita said ' Oh..we're at Central Park!'. 'Yes', I said 'You wanted to do a run'. 'I thought we were going back to the hotel' she replied.
Rita was timed out for a run due to the legnth of time it took to get the rail tickets.

Suffice to say, we did return to the hotel at this point, picked up our luggage and staggered across NY to the station. Problem with NY is that you cannot maintain a fast walking place as at every grid intersection (seems like every 100 metres), there's a delay before the 'Walk' lights change in your favour.

Well we're off into Philly today to have a look around the city, no doubt we'll have more to report later.....Oh, excuse me, are you still awake?

New York

2006-10-06T01:20:00.000Z

Hi, Oh Sweet Faithful Reader...not too busy at work today, then?

I want to tell you that we are 48 hours into New York and we love it. Also that our hotel is called the Jolly Hotel is in Manhatten and is just off Fifth Avenue, 3 blocks from the Empire State Building, and less than 10 minutes walk from Times Square.

Today we caught the ferry to see the Statue of Liberty and also called in at Ellis Island. The tour guides were really useful and suffice to say we both learnt a bit about 20th century history with the emphasis on the aforementioned! Also learnt not to take Leigh's swiss army knife in with me, as it was confiscated during a security check. So, there goes our wine opener and picnic knife etc etc!

The weather has been gloriously sunny with only a brief shower last night and a slight breeze today. We are in T-shirt and shorts - even in the evenings. (Leigh attributes this fact to having no other clothes, but he's just feeling sorry for himself!)

Last day in NY tomorrow, Friday, and I plan to jog around Central Park - yup, I have arrived equipped with jogging bra and trainers; shame I cannot also pull out of the bag a bundle of motivation to ensure they are actually used! Anyway, no excuse...

We'll be back.

Rita and Leigh

New York - Wednesday 4th October

2006-10-04T13:32:00.000Z

Well we've arrived in New York now - excellent flight with Virgin Atlantic. Rita had her spec cleaner, and two tubes of hand cream confiscated at Heathrow - she'd read all the notices about what you could & couldn't take but had failed to act accordingly. The flight was only a third full, which was great and we both managed a kip acroos the 4 middle seats at some point on the flight, luxury. After we landed we endured a 2 hour drive through NY rush hour in a people carrier type shared taxi, with a totally non-communicative driver (good at sign language).
Temperature last night in New York - at 8:44 p.m. was 78F. Lovely.

Again this morning it's like a summer's day (not a summer's day in NY fortunately).

Hello, my turn now. Leigh is now standing peering over my shoulder but this seat is so low down, I can't actually see the bloomin'keyboard!New York! New York! I feel like we are a couple of superfluous 'extras' in a movie set. This place is SO SO in one's face. Its like a three dimensional film set only we are not in cinema seats - we are moving with the flow, and all surrounding voices are that of Dustin Hoffman - even the female voices! The flow of traffic, made up of 80% of hooting yellow taxis, and people eating their breakfast, dinner, tea, supper, coffee breaks ON THE MOVE. Future shares should be in indigestion tablets. The service is good, everyone speaking loudly and clearly, everything geared to keep the place on the move, fast. Even the drains in the roads are smoking. Yup, you can actually see steam rising from the covers, intermittently when a yellow taxi isn't covering it!

We have booked our NY sightseeing tour bus jumping on and off for the next two days. We'll keep you posted. (You lucky bod!)

LHR

2006-10-03T10:02:00.000Z

Hi Peops,

Hello everyone! Oh, its just you is it...oh well, this blog will be more intimate than I thought...

We have just failed to check-in on line and a voucher spewed out telling us we must report to the desk, so feeling like a pair a terrorist we did and it was a piece of cake afterall (we promised to remove it from our luggage!).

Had an eventful Saturday disposing of Van (aka 'Gloria')- had to drive from Leeds to Ilkeston to the storage depot to park it up for 5 months but sans tax & insurance due to expiry last week, but hey, its only this one journey and so minimum risk. This logic was not commensurate to the nervousness we felt. This became justified as 10 minutes into the journey the Van lost power on the A58 and so we pulled into a pub car park and had to call the AA. Apparently the pipe to the turbo had come off and it took the AA man two minutes to put it back on. It took Leigh and I a little longer to recover! I knew today had not got off to a good start when having poured the milk on my muesli I observed on the packet it read, 'Use by 19th Sept' - today, Saturday was 30.09.06!!! I settled for toast after that!

At storage depot (which was a complete pain to find our designated slot) Leigh observed that 'perhaps we should empty the water tank as could freeze over in winter'. 'good idea' I replied. Alas, the tap to release would not budge. The only option was to empty it manually but the only vessel that would fit in the hole at its top was a small cup. Luckily for us we had two of these so a frantic relay system was set up. A few hundred exchanges of these later, and at least an hour, and the tank was almost empty. Fed up we abandoned Gloria and set off for Hollington for Lisa's wedding dress to take to Bury St Edmunds via Kim and Maion's with our bikes for storage. From Hollington to Toyota Island before we realized we had forgotten the wedding dress, so back we went to Hollington. Leigh whistling a cheerful tune by now! At Kim's we were consoled by the fact that his son, Simon had sold our water heater on ebay for £100.00. So, he gave us £100.00 cash - which will come in handy. Thanks Simon!

A good weekend with Ben and Lisa and Loretta & Phil at Bury St Edmunds - nice and sunny, and finally on MOnday morning Lisa drove us to the station. Leigh morose having taken his leave of Chester and Alfie. To mark this farewell we took them out for walks twice that morning, one walk at 6.15 am and the next at 9.15am. Bye bye doggies!

Arrived Travel Lodge yesterday all according to plan and then met up with Sam and Gill for some London Pride and a very cheerful Greek meal in Marylebone.

And now we are here at the LHR. Anyone still reading? Oh, the only single reader has already lost the Will to live, I see. Ah well, must do better next time. Yup, there will be a next time.

Thanks for having us. No time for amendmens to script as money is running out. Infact one eye on screen and one eye on diminishing returns in bottom left of screen.

New York here we come! We arrive 7pm this evening and we depart from there on Friday to Philadelphia to see Nigel, Fiona and Roman.

THANKS!

Rita

Joint Blog - not only Trotsky, but also Rita

2006-09-04T11:38:00.000Z

I'm sure you will have gathered that yesterday's Blog was Rita's, rather than mine.
Look out for many more to come.............

2006-09-03T21:25:00.000Z

This is our last evening in Spinneybrook as the new tenants move in tomorrow morning. The house looks as clean as a new pin - we tiptoe around not daring to sabotage the strenuous recent efforts of the decorator, the gardener, the carpet and upholstery cleaner and the two women cleaners who spent 5 hours apiece here today. One could now eat their dinner off the kitchen floor & probably just as well as all our plates together with the rest of our personal belongings are up in the loft. That loft is choca! My car is sold now and so all our 'immediate' stuff is either in the back of Leigh's car or stashed in Loretta's garage and I know for sure that I will never find anything again! However, I'm not too worried because I have my eye on my handbag and in there is my purse and my mobile phone and my charger. So, all the essentials are in place.

Up very early tomorrow to strip bed, empty dishwasher, final whizz round with mop and duster and tip toe out of here. i.e from the land of luxury and plenty to the impoverished confines of the Motorhome. Leigh heads off for Leeds tomorrow and I am not sure which direction to go in yet...either to Leeds with Leigh, up to Loretta's to stay there or head off for Kim and Marion's to collect my bike, as at least I will have some means of transport. Two phone calls received today from two lots of tenants, one saying that the bath is leaking and water is coming down the stairs and the other telling me that the patio doors have fallen out and need replacing. Hmmmmm, not sure how to tackle those problems right now - I'll think about it tomorrow once I know which direction I'll be travelling in. Good night!

Itinerary

2006-08-31T11:16:00.001Z

So less of this frivolity...here's our itinerary for the trip :

October 3rd Fly from Heathrow to New York
October 3/4/5/6 Spend time in New York
October 6th Catch train to Philadelphia
October 6th - 11th Stay with Nigel & Fiona (and Roman!) in Philadelphia
October 11th Fly from Newark(NJ) to San Francisco
October 11th - 14th Spend time in San Francisco
October 14th Pick up Motorhome in SF
October 14th - Nov 3rd Journey around California/Nevada visiting Napa valley,
Yosemite, Canyons, Las Vegas and others.
Nov 3rd Arrive Los Angeles, drop off motorhome.
Nov 3rd Fly from Los Angeles to Roratonga (Cook Islands) via
Papeete (Fiji)
Nov 4th - Nov 9th Spend time in Roratonga.
Nov 9th - Nov 10th Fly from Rarotonga to Chjristchurch (NZ) via Aukland.
Nov 10th Christchurch
Nov 11th Pick up hire car, drive to Wanaka.
Nov 11th - Nov 18th RCI accommodation at Wanaka
Nov 18th - Nov 25th ?? Could be biking around for a week in South Island
Nov 25th - Dec 2nd RCI accommodation Queenstown
Dec 2nd - Dec 16th ? Travelling around South Island
Dec 16th - Jan 7th 07 Various in North Island - some time at Paul & Jackie's (Audrey's sister) nr
Wellington, hopefully.
Jan 7th Fly from Aukland to Sydney
Jan 7th to Jan 14th Time in Sydney, staying at Nadia's (Loretta's sister in law) parents B & B
Jan 14th Flight to Ho Chi Min via Singapore
Jan 14th to Feb13th Time spent in Vietnam, hopefully travelling on
re-unification express train from Ho Chi Min
to Hanoi and flying back to Ho Chi Min in time
for....
Feb 13th Flight from Ho Chi Min City to Singapore
Feb 13 - Feb 20 Time in Singapore
Feb 20 2007 Flight from Singapore to Heathrow...Blighty Bound.

Why Leon Trotsky

2006-08-30T14:56:00.000Z

Why not? It's an original name isn't it?

Anyway the first name's an extension of my own (and a damn fine film) and the surname could be to do with globetrottingsky - couple those two things with my left wing leanings and my prediliction for ice picks and it all begins to make sense.....

Sunday - Day of Rest (yesterday).

2006-08-21T08:32:00.000Z

So, yesterday really was a day of rest.

Realising the imminence of our eviction from 20 Spinneybrook Way, yesterday spent clearing large items from our garage and doing other sundry physical activities.

So up at 7:30 a.m. - take dogs out for an hour (Ben & Lisa here this weekend).
9:00 a.m. - Load some rubbish into the Volvo (inc. Hostesss [not Rita, the wooden heating trolley thing]).
9:10 a.m. - Go to Ben's old house and load trailer with old bed from his garage and fill remaining space in car with
bags of garden waste.
9:30 a.m. - Ben and me at Raynesway tip, empty trailer & car.
9:55 a.m. - Back at Spinneybrook Way, Load washing machine & Fridge/freezer into trailer/car and take them to
66 Peartree (rented property).
10:30 a.m. - Back at Spinneybrook.Clean carpets in motorhome and move surplus stuff either into loft or into rubbish
bags.
12:00 p.m. - Load old settee from kitchen into trailer, fill rest of car with yet more rubbish - down to Raynesway.
Wear settee as a hat as I move it from trailer to skip at Raynesway.
12:45 p.m. - Down at 157 Sinfin Ave (rented property), to assess how much room there is in the garage to hold
some more items from garage at Spinneybrook.
13:00 p.m. - Load old bathroom suite from Sinfin Avenue into trailer and car (to make more room) and take to
Raynesway.
14:00 p.m. - Back at Spinneybrook. Continue sorting garage.
16:00 p.m. - Clean kitchen floor (dogs have gone) - major job as Alfuie the hairiest animal in the world (after the
Tibetan Yak).
18:00 p.m. - more work.....getting tired now - time for tea, diddle-de-dee.

So, all this was probably nowt compared to the life of a boy chimney sweep, but it's left me tired this morning. Only the garden to do now, oh and pack rucksack for trip, oh and tidy all house, oh and load motorhome, oh and move boxes from garage.....

Still at work - How come?

2006-08-18T16:05:00.000Z

Friday August 18th. After five o'clock on a Friday and I'm still at work.
How many days to go now - let's ha'e a look - 26 working days, about 43 days in total before we fly to New York. Hope we have something more interesting to report soon......zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

showing Rita how to use blogger

2006-08-15T20:10:00.000Z

Sitting at home - only 12 days 'til eviction!

2006-08-10T15:35:00.000Z

So whilst we are waiting for the action to start, take a look at this chap...

Chester the dog - he's not coming with us!

Big Adventure

2006-08-10T15:22:00.000Z

I've recovered from the Ice-axe incident and am now about to embark on an even bigger adventure.

It's not yet started though - I'm sitting quietly at my desk in Leeds, 33 working days to go, looking forward to this so named Big Adventure.

How come there's no date with this - it must have been Friday August 11th, I think - good day to Blog.