Comments

My first lift is a truck. Quickly I learn that my driver, Matt, is going all the way to Melbourne, via Canberra, on a one off removals job which has already taken him to Brisbane and other stops along the Gold Coast. I'm in luck!

Matt's previous "off-sider" was informed his services were no longer required after an argument just the previous day. It appears I have been recruited to help load and unload the truck at various stops as we trundle toward Canberra then Melbourne. Our first stop is in the outer suburbs of Sydney, where we load all the furniture from a house into the half-full truck. After a small unload in Canberra, a brief repair stop and a break at around midnight, we headed for Melbourne, hoping to arrive in the small hours. During our lengthy conversations Matt offered me 100 dollars if I helped him on a couple of unloading jobs the following day. I eagerly agreed, knowing I had to earn money whilst in Australia in order to support my stay. We decided that upon our arrival at his house in the Melbourne suburbs, he would head inside in order to sleep, while I rested in the cab. We arrived at around 0430hrs.

I slept surprisingly well, being woken by Matt at 0900hrs, ready for the day's work ahead. Our first stop was in northern Melbourne. It was only as we started this, our first large unload, that I realised how little experience Matt had in the removals business. As we extracted the contents of the truck, piece by piece, it was immediately apparent that a considerable (and ever increasing) number of items was damaged, some beyond repair. Trying to keep a straight face as my colleague drops a DVD player, VCR and numerous garden ornaments in front of the despairing faces of their owners was hard at first, but as the day progressed I became remarkably adept.

Matt and I clattered, smashed and dropped our way through the two final deliveries, finishing at around 1600hrs, at which point we went to the removal company’s office in order to return the truck. Following several less-than-subtle hints I bought Matt a 6 pack of VB (Victoria Bitter), which he consumed with surprising rapidity as he drove me, now in his car (an ageing Toyota), to Ben’s house. On the way Matt explains to me how his driving skills improved with alcohol and how the Toyota in which I sit is better than any new car currently available. Matt dropped me just a 10 minute walk from my intended residence, and paid me for my work.

As I pushed the doorbell at Ben’s house I pondered whether, having neither showered nor removed myself from my attire for around 50 hours I was in a suitable condition to meet my host’s family.....

Comments

The flight from Bangkok to Sydney was 9 hours in duration and much like all flights which avert disaster, warrants very few column inches in this riveting account of my travels and adventures.

The beautiful city of Sydney held me for a mere 5 days. I visited the opera house, Bondi beach and Manly (on the ferry) but nevertheless found myself somewhat disheartened by the ease with which everything could be found or achieved. It lacked that 'something' which differentiates just existing from traveling, that 'something' which isn't necessarily one's movement from one place to another, but something spiritual which I have only found when existence itself is more challenging. I started looking for 'new and adventurous' ways to continue my journey and after many frustrating hours of ponderings, I decided upon hitch hiking. I think the draw may have been an opportunity to escape and distance myself (both spiritually and physically) from the type of people littering the hostels and cheap drinking holes claiming to be 'travelers'. Perhaps the romanticism of a true road trip also played it’s part. By nightfall on the 25th my cardboard sign had already been crafted. The following morning I departed.......my goal.....Melbourne.

Comments

Alan has, just a couple of hours ago, left Ao Nang, from where I type this, bound for Krabi, then Bangkok, then London Heathrow. Bizarrely we both felt a twinge of jealousy for each others situation.

Since Alan and I have reunited and once I'd shaken off a slightly "dodgy" stomach, we decided on taking a day trip to the "James Bond Island." It's names owes to the fact it features rather prominently in one of Roger Moore's most farcical outings as Bond, "The Man With The Golden Gun." This spectacular needle, jutting out of the sea and tapering hugely towards the bottom, offers some rather special photo opportunities. We grasped those opportunities with gun-mimicking hands and raidsed eyebrows.

I intend to remain in Thailand for a further 2 weeks, this time will be spent here in Krabi, getting some climbing practice on the magnificent limestone cliffs which line the beaches of Railay and Ton Sai. I have a flight booked to Sydney, Australia on the 20th April, upon my arrival 'down under' I shall immediately set about finding work.

Comments

In Myanmar I visited the ancient temples of Bagan, Mandalay; Myanmar's second city and the beautiful Inle Lake, before returning to Yangon for my flight back to Bangkok.

I had 6-7 days to kill in Bangkok before my family arrived from the UK for a holiday. This time was spent on Khao San Road.

My family flew direct from London to Bangkok on the 14th March, I met them from the airport and went directly to the hotel. After visiting the Grand Palace the following day, we set off for the vast Khao Yai National Park, where 2 nights were spent sleeping under canvas in the midst of the rainforest. Whilst at the national park, we went on a guided walk and a night time pick-up ride, where we saw a small number of the animals which inhabit the park. Even though we didn't see any of the large mammals which reside within the park it was still a great experience and definately worth the visit.

We left Khao Yai 2 days after our arrival there, catching the bus straight back to Bangkok and, luckily, being able to transfer from Bangkok to Surat Thani the same night, arriving at Surat Thani the next morning. From Surat Thani we caught the ferry to Ko Samui for some time on the beach. Whilst we've been on the island we've also been snorkelling, sea kayaking as well as visited many of the islands attractions. My Mum flew back to Bangkok early this morning, where her flight to the UK departs around midday. My brother is staying out in Thailand with me for a couple more weeks.

Comments

Legitimacy is not necessarily given to the military junta by tourism in general. It is however brought, together with the large sums of cash, by naive, usually European, package tourists. I truly believe that travel in Myanmar can be beneficial to locals and could, if undertaken responsibly and intelligently, help to inform the outside world of the plight of the Burmese people, a cause which receives little international media attention.

The onus for responsible travel obviously falls to the individual traveler and their conscience. But it must be accepted that if tours are offered, people will go on them, often without researching their destination any further than glossy travel brochures supplied by their tour agents. The burden of discouraging irresponsible travel therefore falls only on a secondary level to discouraging the people to go, which is obviously very important, but is practically impossible, to both reach the audience and to be successful in persuading them, especially if "it looks so nice in the brochure." After all, some people will never be concerned about the impact of their travel, even if they are aware of its effects. The problem of legitimacy brought by tourism is therefore self-perpetuating, and the initial power for this is the profit generated by this type of tourism.

Tourism, must however be kept in proportion. Comparing it to the investment of nations such as China, India, Thailand and Singapore in Myanmar's natural resources is totally unrealistic. It is very sad to see the people of a land so rich in natural resources suffer such unnecessary poverty. Far greater change could be brought about if those countries imposed economic sanctions in the same way the United States has. The U.S has taken a rare but, admirable stand on Burma. Although motives, I am sure, could be brought into question.

Comments

For family, friends and assorted others, here is a rough itinerary which covers me until I return to Bangkok.

23rd Feb - Yangon - Mandalay, Bus
26th Feb - Mandalay - Bagan, Boat
28th Feb - Mount Popa, Day trip, local Bus
2nd Mar - Bagan - Kalaw, Bus
3,4(,5) Mar - Trek, Kalaw to Inle Lake
8th Mar - Inle Lake (Taunggyi) to Yangon
11th Mar - Yangon to Bangkok, flight, Bangkok "no crashes this week" Airways

Naturally this will probably change to some extent. It is however unlikely the destinations or order in which I will visit them will be altered.

Comments

My flight from Mumbai arrived in Bangkok in the afternoon of 10th February. I immediately took a taxi to Khao Sarn Road and applied, via a travel agent for my Myanmar visa. Unfortunately I was told it would not be ready until the 15th February due to the weekend being followed by and preceded by, a public holiday. During those 4 days, I went to see a Muay Thai (Thai Boxing) event, explored the city and went drinking with fellow backpackers. My passport, with the visa contained within, was returned to me, as promised in the evening of the 15th, and that very night I left on an overnight coach for Ranong.

The crossing between Ranong (Thailand) and Kawthong (Myanmar) is completed in a small, rickety, wooden boat, the type propelled by a noisy, smoky outboard motor which is connected to the propeller via a long shaft. All of the other people crossing into Myanmar were ex-pats living in Bangkok completing their monthly "visa run." It is for this task the border seems to cater best, and it took much convincing before officials realised I was intending to stay in Myanmar.

The heat of the town is stifling (35 C +) and after finding accommodation and changing sufficient money into the local currency (Kyat, pronounced chat), I decided to find a beach. After a brief 'discussion' with a motorcycle taxi driver which involved me pointing to the Burmese word for beach in my not-so-trusty Lonely Planet, we set off.

The drive to the beach took us down a winding lane, then across a 200m wooden bridge connecting an island to the mainland. On the island lay a small village, comprised entirely of wooden huts on stilts. I would believe it if I were told it hadn't changed for 100 years.

The beach was beautiful; dotted about the horizon were islands of the vast Mergui Archipelago, whilst local fishing ships and a small group of local children playing in the crystal-clear water comprised the foreground. I went for a swim. Upon leaving the water I was beckoned over to a group of about 5 villagers, sitting at a table outside a hut. They insisted on plying me with an, as-yet-unknown alcoholic beverage, whilst we communicated as best we could. They were clearly celebrating something, eventually I understood it to be the Chinese New Year, but I am still not certain. They invited me back to the other side of the Island, which was facilitated by motorcycle, naturally with a drunken driver and 2 pillions! In the village I was taken to one of their houses where the entire community had seemed to gather, food was prepared, music was playing and drink was flowing. I was treated as a guest of honour, it was obvious that very few, if any, tourists get to the island. We ate fresh seafood, before returning for another swim in the waters of the Andaman Sea. Early in the evening I returned to Kawthong to book the speedboat ride to Dawei (Tavoy) the following morning. What an introduction to an amazing country.

I booked the speed boat ride with the assistance of the manager of the hotel at which I was staying; he went to the length of sending his son with me to obtain the tickets. I had to be up and ready to board the boat at 3am the following morning.

My account of events;

17th February,
3:00am Arrived at Kawthong dock.
3:30am Boarded the boat.
5:30am Depart Kawthong headed for Myeik followed by Dawei.
Unfortunately and bizarrely I appear to have been seated in the mothers and babies section.
Forgot to bring food or drink for the 13 hour journey. Bugger!

1300hrs
Arrived in Myeik, half way. Luckily had a couple of hours relief from the crèche, as I managed to get out onto the dangerously narrow deck. Clung on for dear life prior to returning inside just as we docked at Myeik.

Myeik
1300hrs – 1330hrs
Some of the mothers and babies appear to have left the boat, only to be replaced by new mothers and babies. Still no food for me, although I did manage to purchase some mineral water from a member of staff on the boat, exciting stuff.

1700hrs
Arrival at Dawei, bus takes an hour before leaving, elderly monk blows cigarette smoke at me from behind. He is smoking whilst chewing bettlenub!

1830hrs
Finally arrived at hotel, rooms are dirty and cell-like, fortunately it has an attached restaurant. Checked in.

to be continued.....

Comments

After spending some 2 weeks in Goa, a couple of days at Anjuna and the remainder at the more sedate and much more beautiful Palolem beach. I had to leave via coach for Mumbai in order to catch a flight to Bangkok. It was an overnight 12 hour journey, the type to which I have become accustom.

I checked into the backpackers mainstay, the Salvation Army hostel, which is more than a little institutionalised. I had a total of 5 days to spend in Mumbai before my flight to Goa. The first day I spent strolling around, as I have made a habit of doing upon arriving in a new city. The second day, I awoke nice and early, and upon leaving the hostel was approached by an English speaking Indian lad, a little older than me asking me if I wanted to appear in a Bollywood production..........Of course I do!

It is fairly common for westerners to be recruited from outside (usually budget) accommodation to appear in Indian television and film productions so I was not concerned.

The first day's filming was on an very low budget local channel, and all that was required of me was to sport a dashing fake beard, a tan beret and look angrily at the gentlemen talking. To add difficulty to this task, the other westerner who was appearing in this series and was also recruited from outside the S.A, had to speak. Les, a Londoner in his mid 50's with a slight lisp decided his character "just had to have a limp," which he effected when returning to his seat after his line. So the most difficult aspect of my role was maintaining a straight face.

After this day's filming and receiving my hefty pay packed equal to 4.50GBP I returned back to the city, pleased with my work and ready to hang my acting……..erm…….fake moustache up. However, later that very evening I was approached by the same lad and asked if I wanted to appear with a speaking role in a nation soap, on Star Plus…….Hell Yes! I was playing an English doctor. How apt.

The filming didn’t begin until about 6 in the evening, so I went with my “agent” for the rest of the day, back to the same set at which I filmed the previous day, and which I now consider far beneath my dignity, to watch some western girls who had been recruited.

When we arrived at the set at which I would be filmed. I was immediately given a suit, stethoscope (which to my dismay was later taken from me) and my lines to learn. Whilst make-up was liberally applied to my face. I was then sitting around for about 2-3 hours, trying, but failing to remember the few lines I was given. When the time came to shoot my scene, I was petrified. I was sat in front of stage lighting, the director, and about 5 others, who I think were there merely to make me nervous and the camera. Remarkably it only took 2 takes, and in my humble opinion, I would rate my performance as nothing less than magnificent. The television program I appeared on was called Kavyanjali, and my episode was to be broadcast the very next night.

I spent the following day visiting Elephanta Caves, anything to kill the time before my moment of fame!

As promised, it was broadcast on Star Plus at 2130hrs on 9th Feb. I recorded it with my digital camera held up to the screen of the television, although, I am told it will eventually be broadcast in the UK on our very own version of Star Plus.

The demographic at which this blog is targeted is, I understand also the demographic which Star Plus aims for. Keep an eye out folks!

The digital camera recording of my performace, together with stills of me in the beret and fake beard have been sent home and are avaliable on request. For a small fee, of course!

Comments

After failing to find accommodation one evening near Phalodi, Rajasthan, we decided to spend a night under the stars, out on the sand dunes. This was an incredible experience (although most of the evening seemed to be spent collecting wood for our pitiful camp fire.) We awoke, early in the morning, to find two local gentlemen had appeared and began to relight our fire for us. It's strange that even in the depths of the desert, where ever one stops, people appear, curious as to why you have stopped and offering help.

Only a couple of days later, after a long day in the saddle, we arrived in Udaipur, a small city renowned for it’s beautiful lakeside location. On completing a U-turn in the city, the front wheel slipped on the a sandy road surface and the full weight of the bike, luggage and pillion, fell upon my leg, the point of the contact was the exhaust, which was hot after 4 hours of almost constant use. The bike didn’t fall to the ground but the exhaust burnt the inside of my calf. I have since been informed that this wound will produce a scar, common among Enfield pilots, known as the ‘Enfield Tattoo.’

We arrived in Goa around the 24th of January and immediately set about sampling the local nightlife, which lived up to it’s reputation.

Comments

Our last evening in Delhi wasn't exactly the early night we were planning and hoping for, and as a direct result of that our start wasn't quite the "0600 bright and breezy" which we spoke (into the early hours) about, but a dazed and confused 0930. Not ideal!

Once we loaded the bikes and set off in the general direction of Agra (south, navigating by the sun), we soon found out how difficult route finding in the cities of India was going to be. We didn't escape the poorly sign-posted and extremely busy metropolis of Delhi until gone noon. I wasn't convinced we would reach Agra in a day!

Once we reached the comparatively safe and well maintained National Highways, things brightened up. For a couple of hours we averaged around 60km an hour. Then disaster struck! Whilst on a duel carriageway cruising along at around 70km/hour, a truck, apparently not seeing our overloaded machine on the road, pulled out directly in front of us, crossing our path and driving us onto a sand lay by at dangerous speeds. We bounced along, luckily maintaining control and missing the trees which scattered the lay by, until Doris, with Marika and I still aboard came to a halt. I was furious and raged over to the truck cursing and demanding an explanation, a crowd of around 20 locals appeared from nowhere. The driver alighted, he was a chubby middle aged man dressed all in white linen. He said to me, with a face so amiable my anger had already gone, "It was my mistake, I’m sorry." I immediately felt guilty for my previous display of rage, shook hands and returned to Doris, who was now, stubbornly refusing to start. The crowd of locals, who always seem to appear whenever, and where ever one stops in India, followed and watched intently as I attempted to kick start Doris back into life, but to no avail.

Just as my despondency was growing, Doris burst into life and we proceeded to catch up with Glenn and Annie who had stopped about a kilometer further on after noticing we were no longer behind them. We continued for a further 30 minutes until the golden arches of McDonald's appeared by the side of the road, temptation won, hand signals were exchanged between bikes, and we stopped. Our bike again refused to start after our lunch break and we needed to bump start her with the help of a local boy. We reached Agra that evening. Shattered!

Comments

The train journey was surprisingly trouble free and not dissimilar to those I experienced in China, with of course, the extra and unnecessary bureaucracy and hassle, which should be expected when traveling in India.

On arrival in New Delhi we managed to get to the hotel, which we had chosen from the Lonely Planet whilst on the train. Finding it however including a lengthy and pointless argument with a pedal rickshaw driver who attempted to double the arranged price and take us half way to the arranged destination. This unfortunately, is a common first experience in Delhi and after only a couple of days of tout and hassle impeded exploration (and some visits to 5 star hotel's for an occasional rest bite) I was dreading having to leave the (relative) comfort of our hotel and face the touts and con-men again.

The brand new, Japanese built Metro system, which just doesn't seem to belong in Delhi, was the answer. It was by using this that I ventured out of my budget hotel and was able to see the grandeur of the colonial architecture at India Gate and the Central Secretariat, and pay my one Rupee (using a friend’s student card) and visit the mediocre National Museum, as well as explore other parts of the city tourists rarely venture to.

Whilst in Delhi, plans were being forged for our future travel around India, and we (Marika, Annie, Glenn and I) stuck by our earlier convictions (despite seeing the traffic) and decided to look at second hand Royal Enfield Bullets with a view to purchasing in Delhi and selling them in Southern India. After 2 full days looking, we finally ended up purchasing 2 bikes, a red 1981 Bullet 350cc and a silver 1995 Bullet 350cc (named Boris and Doris respectively). Marika and I owned Doris.

After purchasing the bikes, Glenn and I had to negotiate Delhi’s rush hour, on bikes, not only completely unfamiliar to us, but with the brake on the left side, a configuration neither of us had ever found before! We arrived at the Hotel safe and sound (not before some stressful moments) and started packing, ready to cover the 250km or so to Agra the following day.

Comments

Comments

We were assured in Pokhara that the bus which was to take us from the border to Varanasi was even better than the craft which carried us to Belahiya. Unfortunately, this was not the case, it made the previous bus look truely opulent. After boarding and loading the luggage the bus soon filled up, and we set off just before nightfall. The journey was to take about 10 hours. After travelling for about 20 minutes we were confronted by an agressive young Indian who demanded more money off us (by this time Marika and I had met with 2 American girls) and threatened that if we didn't pay, he would throw our luggage off the bus. After a 15-20 minute long ugly confrontation, which almost resulted in a fight and during which the bus was stopped several times and we obstinately refused to move (knowing we were in the right and were being ripped off) we gave way, paying 250 Rupees each. Welcome to India!

Arrival in Varanasi was as expected. Even though it was 4 o'clock in the morning we were still pounced upon by the army of touts who prey off tourists who have just arrived in India. Eventually we were taken to a suitable guesthouse and settled down (on a bed seemingly made from rock) for the remainder of the night.

DRAFT

Comments

Finally after much hassle at the airport we boarded our small propeller driven aircraft bound for the village of Lukla, where the trek begun. From here, and for several days we trekked, sleeping at night in guesthouses, to Island Peak High Camp, skipping Base Camp due to my apparently high capacity for coping with high altitude. After possibly the worst night's sleep I had ever endured, at -10 - -15 degrees celcius with extremely fast, gusting winds, we set off for the summit at day break the following day, armed with all the necessary equipment, down jackets, crampons, ice axes, etc. The climb was not particularly technical with one steep(ish) ice climb and a tricky and exposed part on the summit ridge. I was roped to Dendi for the duration of the climb, but I was not entirely convinced he could support my weight if I suffered a heavy fall. Oxygen levels are about 45% of that at sea level, so exhaustion was the main difficulty. We reached the summit (6189m, 20,285ft) at about midday, and headed back to high camp then Chuukhung where we left the equipment we would not require in a guesthouse. The following day we made our way to Lobuche, which is only a 3-4 hour walk away. I decided to treat myself to a rest day before heading to High Camp, as we were already 3 days ahead of schedule.

The climb to Lobuche East summit was to be completed via the South Ridge, the rock climb was slightly more technical that that on Island peak, but thankfully the weather was perfect with very little wind and a beautifully clear sky. The lengthy ice climb proved to be steeper and more difficult than that on the previous peak, although the ice was good and there were only a couple of crevasses to negotiate. We achieved the summit of Lobuche East (6119m, 20,075ft) at around 1300hrs, before returning to High Camp then Lobuche.

After the climbing part of the trip was complete we heading up to Kala Pattar, which offers the most amazing view of Mount Everest and Nuptse, then followed the valley back to the starting point of Lukla, which took us 3-4 days.

I am very please I took the decision to spend my money and attempt something which very few people have the opportunity to do. It has really sparked off an interest in mountaineering which I am determined to pursue. I will attempt a more challenging peak next.

After arriving back in Kathmandu, Dendi and I forged a close friendship, encouraged by late night drinking sessions and visits to the local climbing wall. He is willing to try to get a place on an expedition for me if there is any space left on the permit for a trip he is involved in.

After returning from the 15 day (showerless) expedition I spent a further week in Kathmandu in order to get physically clean, return the rented equipment and have some fun. Then it was on to Pokhara where I celebrated Christmas in a group of 12 people. I plan to stay here in Pokhara for the festival, which is proceeding relentlessly (and noisily) outside as I type, until the 2nd on January when I am heading by bus to Varanassi in India.

Comments

The following day, as our driver had warned us was likely, our 4x4 refused to start, partly because of the cold and partly the lack of oxygen in the air. It required several attempts before ‘bump starting’ was successful, attempts which to my great embarressment tired out us Westerners much more than the 10-15 monks who helped us.

The remainder of the trip was relatively uneventful and we arrived at the frantic border town of Kodari in the afternoon of the 23rd from where we got a bus to Kathmandu.

Comments

I promise to bring my blog up to date with the details of this excursion, as well as the details and stories of my 4 day 4x4 trip from Lhasa to Rombuk Monastry then on to Nepal.

Comments

I spent a further 4 days in Lhasa. Two of these days I spent trekking up a mountain to the south west of the city. I first came across it alone and decided to attempt a ascent, on closer inspection I found paths that run to the summit, itself about 600m above Lhasa city and littered with Buddhist prayer flags. It offered amazing views in every direction. I told Marika, Ben and their new room mates, Glenn and Annie, about this and showed them the photographs I had taken. Some of the group wanted to give it a go so I agreed to return with Marika, Glenn and Annie the following day. Glenn and I actually managed to continue alone a ridge and ascend a further 200m or so including a considerable amount of scrambling (an activity Glenn was far more confident and competent at than me). We spent a day or so arranging our tour to the Nepali Border town of Kodari. It was to take 4 days, including a night spent at the highest monastery in the world, Rombuk, about 4km from Everest base camp.

Throughout my stay in Lhasa I was surprised by the huge Chinese influence and Han Chinese majority. Some parts of the city could be mistaken for any similar sized Chinese city. Overlooking Lhasa, at both the north and south are massive military installations. Guards are stationed at checkpoints to control all the roads entrances to Tibet's capital. Once the railroad from Golmud is opened to the public next year, the already fragile Tibetan culture will be diluted even further by the economically dominant Han Chinese immigrants.

Comments

Having read the relevant sections in both the Lonely Planet and the Rough Guide, I understood that it may be possible to get in Tibet other than by using the government travel agency. This usually involves being hidden in local buses or trucks. I decided to give this a go. I was encouraged by the fact we were offered a seat to Lhasa by a tout as we exited Golmud train station. So I left Marika and Ben in the hotel, and headed off alone in search of a suitably 'dodgy' character to sneak me into Tibet.

It didn't take much loitering in the square next to the long distance bus station before I found my man. I was quickly brought between two buses in order to arrange the price and after a short (and largely unsuccessful on my part) bout of bartering, we came to an agreement of 800RMB altogether, 400 now and 400 on arrival. After loading my bag into a special compartment I boarded the 'sleeper bus' and was shown my 'bed', situated in the middle of the bus, near to the rear and on the upper deck, presumably in the hope that one of the policemen in the square didn't catch a glimpse of me. The seats around me were filled first, another attempt to conceal me I think.

Once the bus was full we set off, and after a brief stop at possibly the grimmest toilet I have yet to cast my eyes upon, I was told to hide under the covers in my bed and stay as still as possible. I stayed in this uncomfortable position for some time, occasionaly poking my head out for air, only to be struck by a barrage of shouting to put it back under the covers. After about an hour of being hidden in my bed I was uncovered by the aforementioned 'dodgy character' and pushed to the back of the bus, where I was first hidden underneath more sheets and then the men 'sleeping' on the bench bed at the rear of the coach. I can only assume this was for the checkpoint on the way out of Golmud. I was only required to stay here for about 20-30 minutes after which I was shown back to my seat, to the cheers of the men whose 'sleeping' helped conceal me. I was allowed to remain in my 'bed' for the remainder of the notoriously bumpy and uncomfortable 24 hour drive. Fortunately I didn't suffer any altitude sickness on the way, which is unusual considering some of the passes on route are considerably higher than 5000m. I arrived in Lhasa at 0600hrs, feeling rather pleased with myself, so much so that I took a taxi to the centre of town (a rare treat) and checked into the very basic, but cheap Kirey hotel, on the tragically named Beijing Dong Lu. On the way we passed the immensely impressive Potala and opposite it, the monument to China's "liberation" of Tibet. A sad reminder.

Comments

Comments

In the evening of the 8th I headed to the long distance bus station for the 4 hour bus journey to Sichuan province's capital, Chengdu. On arrival in Chengdu at 0300 in the morning, I set about walking to the hostel where some friends were staying. Orientation was a huge problem but fortunately a motorcycle taxi rider took pity on me and gave me a (white-knuckle) lift the 4-5kms for free. On arrival I managed to secure a room for the remainder of that night and the following one for a total of 40RMB. The hostel was very nice indeed, probably the nicest place I have stayed so far. Facilities included 24 hour hot water, immaculate showers and beds made every day.

After a few hours of sleep I met with my friends and we visited the large temple in the centre of Chengdu, this was very enjoyable. The rest of the day I spent doing washing and personal administration in the hostel. We spent a further 4 nights in Chengdu, planning our route into Tibet and recovering from ailments we all seemed to suffer from at some point during our stay. I also must admit to consuming several western meals in an attempt to overcome my own bout of illness, this included McDonalds and several chocolate brownies in backpacker cafes near to the hostel. I hang my head in shame!

I also squeezed into my brief stay in Chengdu a visit to the Panda Breeding and Research Centre. I opted for an early morning visit in order to see feeding time, although I understand that whilst awake these animals are required to eat almost constantly in order to consume the vast amount of bamboo they need to survive. The reserve was surprisingly quiet and it was not difficult to find some time alone to watch these ineffective creatures either eat or sleep. A worthwhile excursion.

We boarded the train for Golmud at 1725hrs on Saturday the 12th November. I now consider myself well hardened to the hard sleeper carriages we have become accustomed to travel in, and the journey went painlessly. We arrived in Qinghai province's second largest city, Golmud, at about 0900 on the Monday morning.

Comments

The bus pulled into the docks at the riverside town of Yichang at about 2000hrs as planned. We unloaded our luggage and were greeted by an elderly gentleman who took us to our "hotel." This was by far the worst place I have stayed since leaving home, it was on the 5th floor of a large, multipurpose, building. The unlit corridor leading to our room was blocked by a prison-style metal frame, the door of which needed to be unlocked before we could enter the filthy 5 person dormitory. We decided to spend as little time as possible in the room, so headed out in search of dinner.

On returning from our mediocre meal and climbing the stairs to our accommodation we heard the unmistakable racket of a karaoke bar on one of the lower floors. Marika, Leonie and I headed here, and I after a few drinks I gave an unforgettable rendition of Rod Stewart's classic "Sailing," which was greeted by much applause. Between us we ruined several other good songs notably 'Careless Whisper' and 'I Just Called.'

We set foot on our boat as planned at 0930hrs the next morning, were shown to our 6 person cabin and met our Chinese roommate "Joe." In fact we were the only non-Chinese residents on board the boat. The ship sailed at 1100hrs. Before long an english-speaking representative was knocking at our door, booking excursions from the boat to see various attractions as we sailed passed. All of my fellow travellers opted for the bus tour around the controversial 'Three Gorges' dam. Due to the price I decided against this. I was under the impression that the boat would wait at dock for the 5 hours the tour was due to take, so alighted with the others with the intention of taking a look around the dock area. Needless to say, I had quite a shock when I saw our ship start to move away immediately the tour group were clear of it. This led me to perform an embarrassing, but money saving (and dare i say it, heroic) leap from the jetty back onto the boat as it slowly accelerated away, much to the amusement of my friends, and disgust of the staff on board.

That afternoon we passed through the massive locks of the Three Gorges Dam and collected the tour group on the other side, where we docked for the majority of the night. Early the next morning we passed through the first of the Three Gorges. Visibility was fairly poor due to heavy mist, this detracted from the sights, but definately added to aura. The same was the case for the more impressive second gorge.

Occasionally dotted along the river banks were signs denoting the height at which the water will sit in 2006 and 2007. This was amazing and very sad, especially as we stopped at, and wandered through, areas of towns which would soon be underwater. We found factories, houses and apartment blocks abandoned, whilst locals demolished buildings by hand, salvaging the bricks, presumably in order to rebuild their homes further inland. In total over 1.5 millon people will have to relocate as a result of the dam, these people appear to have no voice in the P.R China.

Late in the afternoon of Thursday the 4th November, Odhran, whilst entering the bathroon attached to our cabin, came across a 7th roommate, a rat. There were several further sightings which led to us knock on the door of the bathroom each time before entering in the hopes that he would have retreated back into the sewage network. Once "Roland" was sighted outside the actual toilet basin, the decision was taken to inform the staff. The manager of the ship quickly attended, and after close inspection of the toilet area, reassured us that he had left our cabin and, convinced he had completed his duty, duly left.

We arrived at the peninsular of Chongqing on time at 0600hrs, today, the 6th November.

DRAFT

Comments

After arrving at Hankou train station, Wuhan, in the afternoon of the 29th October and checking into a surprisingly decent hotel, we set about exploring. I was initially surprised by the modern architecture and Western feel. Trendy shoppers walked the streets which were lined with same brand-name clothes shops you would find in any European city. The main shopping street is located in the heart of the Hankou district, west of the Yangzi River and north of the Han River. The city of Wuhan itself comprises three distinct districts; Hankou, Wuchang and Hanyang, each divided from the others by the one of the 2 conjoining rivers on which the settlement sits.

Our reason for being in Wuhan was to meet a friend and board a Yangzi ferry upstream through the three gorges to Chongqing, so we went in search of a ticket office along the river front. Unfortunately we stumbled upon, what I can only describe as a 'pet market,' with dogs, cats and other animals being displayed in very small glass cages in the heat of one of the China's "three furnaces." A reference to the heat which overcomes the city and it's unfortunate occupants during the summer months. Soon after this shocking sight we found a small river cruise booking office, but were instructed to return the following day, which we did, and booked the tickets (304Yuan) for a bus to Yichang and the ferry to Chongqing.

Having not had a 'proper' night out since leaving home, it was nice to visit the "Blue Sky Cafe" in the evening/night and satisfied my childish need for a drunken night out. A need, I hasten to add, equally desired by my fellow travellers. We met Odhran as planned on Monday 31st October and spent a couple more days exploring this collosal city. The highlights of which for me were crossing the river and exploring Wuchang, especially Hubu Alley of streetfood fame, and walking the bridge across the Yangzi to find people swimming to barges anchored midway in this highly polluted, busy and seemingly unregulated waterway. I also enjoyed a final night out in Wuhan with Odhran, where we met with some Chinese girls he had encountered on Monday, who took us to a fashionable nightclub. Once inside snacks were ordered, which i found quite delicious, only to find out later that I had i fact been eating dog, which, contrary to popular belief is a delicacy in China.

We boarded the bus headed for Yichang at 1500hrs on Wednesday 2nd November still feeling a little the under-the-weather after the antics of the previous night.

DRAFT

Comments

Arrived in Taiyuan and, presumably due to the slatings it recieved from the guidebooks, met no other tourists, and was immediately swamped by local children shouting "hello" and trying to shake my hand. After spending quite some time looking, I found an internet cafe, where I spoke, on MSN, to friends in Beijing and arranged to meet them when their train arrived at the Taiyuan train station the following morning. Spent the remainder of the day lazing about, reading my rough guide in the park (under the extremely close scrutiny of a policeman) and finding accomodation.

Met Marika, Leonie and Ben as planned at the station and took them to the "hotel" at which I had bargained an underground, concrete, grotty, dorm room down to 15RMB (1 pound 7 pence) a night per person. We spent the night drinking there. I was pleased that i was no longer totally alone. Although I had an amazing time in Wutai Shan it was a very intense experience and nice to be in a more secure environment.

Left Taiyuan on the 25th October, headed, on a bus, for the charming, walled city of Pingyao. Found a traditional guesthouse with a large courtyard and spent 2 days and 2 nights, relaxing and exploring this charismatic little city, before boarding a train headed for Xi'an. Unfortunately there were only 2 hard sleeper tickets avaliable, so Ben and I had to buy an unresevered ticket and was agast at the conditions aboard the train. Every inch of floorspace was occupied by Chinese peasants, some with young children. The air was unbelievably thick with smoke. We didn't think that we could bear 9 hours of that, and after loitering in the resteraunt car for some time, eating our overpriced food as slowly as possible, negotiated an upgrade.

Arrived at Xi'an at about 3 in the morning and was greeted by the usual taxi touts and drizzle, the first precipitation i'm seen since leaving London. This reminded me of home, but only in a positive sense. It's strange how the smallest thing reconnects you with everything you have left behind. Went to the legendary Ludau hotel, where the only guests are travellers, was pleased when the friendly staff there agreed to us checking in at half past 3 in the morning and not paying for the night. Spent one further night in Xi'an, but didn't visit the Terracotta Warriors, the premier tourist attraction in China. Do not regret this decision as I have already discovered that the most amazing and genuine experiences are not had being hoarded through 'tourist attractions,' but spontaneously at unexpected moments.

Left Xi'an bound for Zhengzhou on the overnight train where we decided to immediately connect on a train for Wuhan. Travelled the second part of this leg hard seat, as they had no hard sleeper, was pleasantly surprised at the cleanliness of the cabin, especially after our experience earlier in the week. Arrived in Wuhan at 1330hrs.

DRAFT

Comments

Still adjusting to being away from home, and away from the tour group, with which I spend a very enjoyable and comfortable 2 weeks I headed out of the hotel, feeling a little sorry for myself. After wandering for a couple of hours through the very small settlement, I neither met anyone who spoke English or who didn't gaze at me as I walked passed, in the case of children, this was occasionally accompanied by a giggly "hello". Just as I was heading back to my hotel I came across an Australian couple, with whom I had a brief chat, and agreed to meet for dinner later in the evening, which was very nice, and lifted my spirits immeasurably. During the meal a Buddhist monk started chanting and performing a small ceremony, this was very interesting, and gave me a taster for what was to come.

After waking early in the morning on the following day (22nd October), I spent a couple of hours watching Chinese sport on television, before rising at 10am for a walk. I went south and walked about 5km from the village before I decided to turn back, largely due to the cold weather. On turning around I saw one of the many small but noisy tractors trundling up the road, the elderly driver and passenger looked over at me, so I waved, he beckoned me over and I sat in the trailer of this tractor while he gave me a lift all the way up the main road. At one stage we were overtaken by a police car, but they didn't seem to mind. As a result of this lift, I felt a new enthusiasm for Wutai Shan and decided to visit the large temple in the middle of the village.

On wandering the temple grounds, which were largely occupied by Buddhist monks and nuns, I met Xu Fang Chun, who was very friendly and intent on showing me around, he asked if I had eaten, I replied "no" and immediately he took me to the temple's dining hall, where the monks eat. I was presented a meal of rice and vegetables with rice tea (the water remaining in the serving pot after all the rice has been taken), which was very nice. After eating he took me around some of the temples and taught me some Buddhist chants and prayers whilst explaining their meaning using his very small English vocabulary. Even this however, did not prepare me for him taking me to meet his 'teacher', a Tibetan Lama. When we entered his quarters, he was sat on his bed, clothed in traditional, colourful, dress. While we discussed religion and the time the Lama spent in India, a young monk served hot water and biscuits. Xu Fang took a photograph of me with the Tibetan Lama and we left shortly after, this was an amazing experience.

Xu Fang insisted on taking me around the temple complex further and we visited an entirely golden temple, where I was given the privilege of lighting a candle, he proceeded to explain more prayers and chants to me and asked that I joined in, which I did. At this point we returned to his accommodation, provided by the temple, where he gave me a Tibetan Buddhist pin badge and said that it would help me gain favour with Tibetans when I visited Tibet. We next returned to the temples where Xu Fang saw a monk whom he knew, we were invited to his quarters to drink tea, this was a very enjoyable experience. The monk asked that I take some of the assorted nuts in a bowl on the table, I ate one, only to find out, when Xu Fang and the monk laughed loudly, I had eaten the shell also, from this point on, the monk removed the shells for me and placed the nuts on the table in front of me. We stayed for about half an hour then, said our goodbyes and I returned to my hotel where I met a Californian-Chinese lady who was fluent in both Mandarin and English, she invited me to join her and her husband for dinner, where they advised me on what to see in whilst in China. We arranged to meet for breakfast the next morning.

As planned, I met the American couple for breakfast, who gave me some sweets for my bus journey to Taiyuan and insisted on paying for my breakfast of millet soup, pickles and steamed bread. This was a very nice gesture, and I boarded the bus, leaving Wutai Shan in much higher spirits than when I arrived.

The bus journey from Wutai Shan to Taiyuan was unbelievable! We snaked our way over mountain roads, over which the driver felt sufficiently confident to screech the tires around the corners (with a several hundred meter sheer drop a couple of feet away) and overtake blindly, occasionally attempting both these feats simultaneously. Amazingly we arrived in Taiyuan alive, although my lungs had taken a beating from the dense smoke which accumulated as the journey progressed.

Comments

Comments

Comments

Comments

Comments

My first impression of Beijing couldn't have been better, the city is clean, safe (except pickpockets) and very modern. Our city leader, Raymond, greeted us at the platform and took us to the mini bus for our 40 minute transfer to the hotel. We all ate together at a restaurant nearby. We tried the obligatory Peking duck, for which I had been starving myself, I was not disappointed! Following this feast we walking into the city centre and along the food stalls, where everything imaginable was avaliable (providing it could be deep fried on a scewer). I tried scorpion (photos to follow), which I found very difficult, as I had seen it go from being alive, to being pierced on a scewer then deep-fried.

Comments