Vapor Trails

And Finally...

2010-01-04T11:19:00.001Z

Well - this is it. The last post I'll be making on this Blog.

Thanks to everyone who came along with me...it was really great knowing that there were people following along the way (and complaining when I didn't keep up the posts :-)

Happy New Year - and best wishes for 2010...let's hope it's a year filled with adventures whether at home or on the road...

One Piece Of Advice...

2010-01-04T11:14:00.002Z

If I was to give one piece of advice after having done my trip it would be this: pack light. There's nothing fun about having to drag a 90 liter pack that weighs 30 kg around - especially when it's hot.

With some careful pre-planning and a bit of Internet research, it's possible to get everything you'll need for a whole year in a bag that weighs less than 10 kg and that you can take on the plane.

Not only is there no risk of arriving after a long plane journey to find your bags missing - you can take it on the bus with you and make sure no one's stealing from you on the journey (which is a major problem in South America). It's also easy to carry when your doing the inevitable trail around hostels in the baking heat looking for a place to stay.

A lot of people were surprised at how little my bag was - but I did meet people along the way whose bags made mine look cumbersome. In fact - there's some stuff I ended up dragging around the world that I never needed.

And at the end of the day - you can buy everything you need along the way. Rather stupidly - this is something I didn't really think about until I was on the road. The only thing that seems to be in short supply in most of the world is good quality light weight western standard shoes...which is a bit ironic since the shoes we can buy in the west tend to be made in the east...

...you can pretty much buy everything else...or get it repaired. While we throw away and buy, it's possible to get just about anything repaired very cheaply. Like new zips in trousers, or shoe repairs.

This is a really great site to get started: Travel Independent.

A Note For Asthmatics...

2010-01-04T11:13:00.001Z

I'm asthmatic and was a little concerned about getting supplies of Ventolin (the blue inhaler) along the way. I set off from the UK with four inhalers, but have since discovered that you can buy a lot of drugs (that's legal ones :-) while your on the road. Annoyingly - you can usually buy them for a lot less (and I mean a lot less) than the UK prescription charge.

Just pop into a chemist and show them the inhaler and they'll sell you one.

I bought supplies in Peru, Bolivia, Argentina, Australia, Cambodia, Pakistan, India, and Sri Lanka.

The only place where I couldn't get Ventolin was in China. Not sure why - but they only had Ventolin in liquid form which would require a Nebulizer. So if your heading that way get supplies before you go.

On a slightly different note - you can buy other stuff without prescription - like anti-biotic creams and eye drops - so if you get bitten or get an infected wound or whatever - try the chemist first as they'll usually be able to sell you what you need...

So How Much Did It Cost?

2010-01-02T12:09:00.001Z

A few of the more daring types ask me how much my trip cost. And being the kind of person I am - I did keep a note of how much I spent. After all - I had to make sure I came in under budget :-)

My budget method took less than five minutes a day, and consisted of making a note of the money I drew out of the ATM or when I used the Credit Card. At the end of the week I'd put the total in a spreadsheet. Easy.

The total start up costs were about £3,000. That included: flights, vaccines, travel insurance, and everything I took (my bag, clothes, shoes, camera, etc.).

I then spent just under £13,000. I didn't really ever feel like I was budgeting, although I don't have a champagne lifestyle to start off with - and I usually do holiday's pretty cheaply. I wouldn't do lavish things like take helicopter flights, use luxury transport, or stay in five star hotel anyway, so it wasn't that hard to settle into being on a budget. There were very few times that I didn't do something because I couldn't afford it.

Every now and then I'd really splurge - especially if I was feeling a bit fed up. One thing that stands out was having a glass of wine at the top of the Sheraton in Ho Chi Minh - it cost me $12USD - which was more than I was spending on accommodation for the night (obviously I wasn't staying at the Sheraton :-). That was a luxury buy - but worth it. No hassle - they gave me three bowls of free nuts so I didn't need to buy dinner - and I enjoyed it. I read a great book, and watched the sun set...

I could have done the trip way cheaper if I'd have avoided certain places. Australia being the main culprit - it was expensive. Hong Kong was also expensive, as was Singapore - although I was only there for two nights and did splurge on a nice hotel.

My two day jaunt to Mongolia was another expensive excursion - as was the trip to Tibet - but I wouldn't have missed either for the world - so it was totally worth it.

If I'd have missed Oz, Hong Kong, Singapore, and Tibet, I could have done the trip for under £10,000. But to be honest - I enjoyed every minute - so the extra £3000 was easily justified in my mind.

I could have also done it for less - by really budgeting hard: staying in really basic places, only ever eating local food, and not paying to see stuff. Actually - I did find that in some places - the rougher it got the more I enjoyed it. But in the end - I was happy with how I traveled.

The absolute cheapest place was Pakistan. I spent less than £12 a day. And I never budgeted once. I could have made it cheaper by avoiding Subway and pizza in Islamabad and Lahore - and not taking the crazy Islamabad / Lahore / Islamabad / Lahore trip I made. I also spent £50 on an Indian visa - so it worked out pretty cheap on reflection.

At the end of the day - it's all about comfort levels - and deciding what's important. But the main budgeting consideration is picking countries that fit the budget. There are some great resources on the net to help with budgeting - but I found this website particularly helpful: http://www.travelindependent.info/. The Country Summaries section is especially good - although I'm trying to avoid looking at it as I start planning more trips...

If your thinking of doing a trip like this - do it - it's money well spent - and you won't regret it.

Editor's Note: All monetary amounts are in British Pounds unless otherwise noted...

So What Were The Highlights?

2010-01-02T12:01:00.001Z

I also get asked: "So what were the highlights?"

...and I never really feel that I've ever answered the question. I usually reel off a list of places - but part of it is not having had the time to really think through a whole year...

But here goes...

There were some countries that really stood out for me. Bolivia, Cambodia, Mongolia, Pakistan, Tibet, and Sri Lanka. Each one was unique and exciting in it's own way. All were an adventure. They're all fairly poor - but the people are truly amazing. And each one has a lot to see.

And they're all places that have had significant turmoil in the recent past.

What shines through were how optimistic the people are - how they're looking to the future. There's something special about the inner drive towards self improvement that really rubs off...it's truly infectious.

That was what really struck me about Cambodia. It's not so many years ago that people were being treated in the most horrific way. Children were being tortured and killed, and a quarter of the population died through starvation alone. And yet - there's an optimism and hope in Cambodia. There's a drive towards a better life - to learn from the wrongs of the past.

In a different way - South America was a real surprise. I only went there because my intended route through Africa was blocked by civil war. But what a place. It's so vibrant and full of life. It's energetic in a truly unique way. There's always something exciting around every corner in South America, and you can rough it or take it easy - there's a bit of everything if you look for it.

I know I've already said it - but I loved everywhere where Tibetan Buddhism is followed. There's something incredible about it - there aren't really any words to describe it. The people seem to live life in a different way, in connection with the world around them. There's a real peace and acceptance of life.

Being able to listen to His Holiness the Dalai Lama speak was a real privileged and a true highlight. His teaching was so practical and relevant - even to the western audience who were listening. If only we had more leaders like His Holiness...

Conversely - the places I didn't enjoy tended to be run by repressive regimes that dictated to the people and don't give them a voice. I found a lot of rules - and a fear to think freely. I also didn't enjoy the places that were very "touristy" as it all seemed a bit false. Vietnam and eastern China instantly spring to mind.

And don't even get me started on Delhi...

But at the end of the day - the real highlights were the unique moments that happened along the way - the recommendations that changed "the plan" and added a sense of adventure. Or the connection with people that you don't really find a lot. And luckily for me - there were a lot of those moments.

What It's Like Being Home...

2009-12-28T20:33:00.001Z

The second question I usually get asked is: what's it like to be home?

And I say: it's really great thanks.

And it is...

The one great thing about "being back" has been the chance to catch up with the friends I have here in the UK. I think that the time of year has worked for and against me. There's been a chance to catch up with some people I might not have seen because of Christmas parties and the like - but it's such a busy time that I know it's been hard at times to meet up with everyone...

...but - the realities of "normal" life are calling - and at some point (in the not too distant future) I'm going to have to get back to work. Not that that's a major issue - as I've discovered that I kind of miss it, so it won't be a problem going back to it.

For anyone who doesn't know - I'm planning a trip to Australia next year just to see how things look from a work perspective there...

While I can't wait to get on the plane and head to the sun and catch up with everyone I know in Oz, I also don't want to leave behind the life I have here. But living abroad has always been something I've dreamed about and never done - and having no house or "stuff" at the moment would make things significantly easier. While I don't want to leave friends or family behind, I know that I'd forever regret not having tried at this point in my life - so I've decided to just go for it - it might work - it might not - but we'll see what happens.

While I've not got long until I go, it does feel sometimes like I'm just passing time, and and while I have lots of things to do, I'm finding it really hard to motivate myself to do them. I do go through patches of real despondency and it's at those points that I really miss being on the road. The restlessness that I guess all travelers share returns - seeing a map is deadly because I start planning another trip in my head.

And there are moments where my trip feels like a weird dream. Everything is so familiar here that I could easily settle back into it. Nothing seems to have changed while I've been gone - although it feels like lots of things have changed. It's usually the small things that are the most noticeable.

One thing that's really helped has been having the photos I've taken as my screen saver. The random pictures pop up and I can remember exactly where I was when I took the photo - how I was feeling - who I was with - and what happened after the moment was captured. It's a real reminder that it really did happen :-)

I think, based on the e-mails and conversations I've had with people in my position, it's fairly normal to feel this way after a long trip. It is a huge readjustment to make and travelling does give you a different perspective on life.

So yes - I'm enjoying it - for now. Next year is going to be a whole new adventure in itself, and I'm really looking forward to it...

What It Was Like...

2009-12-23T14:50:00.002Z

Since I've been back I've found that there are two main questions most people want to know about my trip. The first is: what was it like?

So I thought I'd try and summarize "what it was like".

I think that, in hindsight, it feels like my trip was made up of four sections: South America, Australia, Asia (including China), and the Indian Subcontinent.

When I first started it was all very new and exciting. I'd been working some really long hours, and then suddenly it all stopped and I'd got two weeks to sort myself out before going away. It took a while for me to really start to relax - and to honest - I think I went into holiday mode (which for me is trying to see as much as possible). I covered a lot of ground in South America - but I don't really feel like I saw it - it felt more like passing through some how. I think a lot of that was to do with me being so motivated (those of you who know me will know exactly what I mean :-).

I was also having to adjust to being on a tight budget, and accommodation was the main place where I had to make some changes. As I really needed a break - I did start out staying in cheap hotels - but soon realized that it's so much harder to meet people - and way cheaper to stay in hostels. And there's an awesome hostel scene in South America...

But - I was happy to travel alone for periods - and it really helped as it allowed me some much needed thinking time. All those long bus journey's were the perfect time to listen to music and get a lot of things in perspective.

On reflection - while the round the world ticket was amazing value and was definitely worth buying - having a fixed flight date out of South America gave me a target to work towards - and I had a pre-worked out route (although it did change quite a bit from what I'd originally planned). Although South America was the big surprise of my trip - I'd never really thought of going there - and it turned out to be awesome - definitely on the list to go again...

But still - I had a fixed destination and I think that's why I really felt as if I passed through.

The second section of my trip - Australia - was totally different. A bit of a culture shock after South America. For me - it was more about seeing people and checking out cities to see which ones I thought I could live in. And it felt a bit more like normal life in a strange kind of way.

Sydney was awesome because I met some amazing people at the hostel, and then on to Brisbane where I caught up with people I'd been looking forward to seeing from the start of my trip.

Then things hit a bit of a low in Melbourne. I ended up staying in a hostel which was full of people who didn't want to do anything, and because the bush fires were on and there wasn't much happening (understandably) I did get a bit fed up. Which made me decide to blow the budget and do the road trip to Adelaide along the great ocean road - which was a real highlight of the trip.

Perth was another highlight - as I got to catch up with friends again...

At the time - I really felt like I didn't want to leave Australia. With the exception of Melbourne - it had been such a positive experience - and it was really the start of a pattern that was going to develop - more on that later.

And then it was on to the third section: Asia. Singapore was really amazing, as was Bangkok - both are such unique cities and with so much to offer. They're really amazing as stop overs - and to be fair they feel very comfortable. So I was really looking forward to leaving them behind and getting "out there".

Cambodia was truly amazing - although there were very few people (tourists or travelers) while I was there. Something to do with the financial crisis I think - but I had some crazy adventures, and as the locals in the tourist places spoke great English - I left feeling like I'd really got inside Cambodia. The trip to Prasat Prehear Vihear was a true highlight - and to stay and eat in a village where only one person speaks any English was a real experience.

Vietnam on the other hand felt like a bit of a disaster - as I really didn't like it. It's so touristy - and it really feels like the locals are only interested in getting money out of you. There's also a really sordid side to Vietnam which I didn't like. And there's not really much to see...everything it seems was blown up during the war...

While it is amazing to be travelling - there are some downsides - and I really started to see some of them while I was in Vietnam. At the end of the day - there's only so many times you can go to a market (read temple, palace, mausoleum) before you've seen it all. And while the guide book might big it up - it's only a market. And they mostly sell the same things. Just like any other market at home. And you start to realize - life is mostly the same where ever you go. It's just a slightly different flavor.

People have homes, religious buildings, shops, markets. We are - all the same - some have more money - some have less - but at the end - we're all human and have the same basic needs.

When the aim of your trip is to "see the world" and you start thinking you've seen it all before - then it does start to make you question what your doing. Although on an interesting side note - I didn't really enjoy any of the communist countries (except Cambodia) which also explains some of what was going on.

As I've said a number of times during my blog - I've met some amazing people along the way. And the same was true in Vietnam - it was the thing that kept me going. But I did start to notice another frustration - and that was meeting new people who I really liked and got on with - and would then have to say goodbye to and move on. The transience of it all did start to get to me.

Brock and I took the Myers Briggs personality test while we were in Colombo and spent some time reading up about the various personality types. And it turns out that someone with my personality profile likes to develop and maintain relationships with people. Which really explains why the transience issue was a problem.

And it was only going to get worse in China...

I'll be honest - I don't like communism. I went to China with an open mind - and I came away grateful that I don't live under a regime that doesn't allow it's people a voice. But China is a real contrast. The western bit is less "Han Chinese" than the eastern bit - although this is sadly something the Chinese Government are adamant about changing.

One thing I've discovered is that there's something incredible about Tibetan Buddhism and I loved every place where it's the prevailing culture - and as most of western China is predominantly Buddhist (for the time being) - it explains why that was a real highlight.

I also traveled for longer periods of time with groups of people - which was really amazing - although when everyone moved on I'd spend the next few days feeling quite deflated. I'd end up sitting on buses feeling pretty fed up at times...and really looking forward to getting to the next place so I could meet up with other travelers.

I got to Beijing at the half way point of my trip and went through a low patch of wanting to go home. The repression evident in Tibet (which is truly an incredible place) and then so heavily enforced in Beijing really started to grate, and I ended up phoning people back home quite a bit. Luckily, I did the trip to Mongolia which reminded me of why I was travelling, and then I met up with Adrian on the return to Beijing and we had some amazing trips out trying to find the most obscure places to eat where only locals went.

And it proved a bit of a watershed. I think at this point I'd fully gotten into the travelling life and the focus of my trip became more about the people I was meeting and a lot less about the places I was going to see. Sure - I was still doing the cultural stuff - but really it started to become more about hanging out with the people I was meeting along the way.

The trip to the Magao caves and the Xiencheng riots really added an element of adventure back into the trip that I think was missing - and pushed me on to want to get into Pakistan.

And Pakistan totally changed things. It is one of the most incredible places I've been. And I traveled most of the way with a great group of people. I loved the continuity of it all, and the fact that we'd all arrange to meet up as we traveled along the Karakorum Highway. It really worked out. And it was such a contrast to repressed China.

And while Islamabad did feel a bit scary at times - it really felt like I was on an adventure, and heading into India just added to it - because I was going to see things that I'd dreamed of going to see since I was young.

And then I got on the bus to Leh - and the balance shifted entirely. It became totally about people and a lot less about the things there were to see. Travelling with the same people for an extended period of time was exactly what I needed - and it absolutely made the end of my trip.

Brock and I were joking on my last day that despite having spent almost three weeks in Colombo we'd still not done any of the "you must do this in Colombo" stuff in the guide book. Which kind of says a lot. Sure I was happy to see some stuff - but the focus wasn't on trying to get here there and everywhere - it was about really enjoying it. No goals, no plan. Just get up and decide what to do.

Perhaps some of the best times were just sitting chatting at Coral Light watching the waves on the reef and the lightning over the sea at night. And we covered everything - from Philosophy to some truly retarded conversations.

I'm not really one for "life changing experiences" - they do happen - but so infrequently it's not worth hanging around waiting for them. But on reflection - I've learned a lot about myself this year - and it's really changed the way I look at things.

I know it's a cliche - but I've learned that it's not about where your going - but how you get there that counts. What's the point of achieving something but never having enjoyed achieving it. And it's really made me appreciate some of the things about my life - I've got a much clearer picture of how I want to live it from now on.

Would I do it again - absolutely.

Would I change anything - absolutely not - sometimes you learn more about yourself during the lows than during the highs.

But I think next time I'd find someone to travel with...and I'd ditch most of the planning and let it just happen. Overland to Afghanistan anyone? :-)

Thanks...Part 2

2009-12-23T14:35:00.002Z

...I was just thinking that I missed a whole group of people off my thanks list - and that was all the people who followed the blog and sent me e-mails along the way. You know - they were really appreciated...so thanks.

Thanks...

2009-12-22T20:04:00.000Z

I've been home now for a few weeks, and have had some time to think back on the amazing time I had this year.

Really - I've been incredibly lucky to be able to do something like this - and it was an amazing experience - perhaps one of the best things I've ever done.

But what really made it were all the people I've met along the way. There's really too many to mention by name - but if we met up this year - I want to say a big thanks...you really made it a trip of a lifetime. The recommendations everyone gave me on places to stay and visit were also really welcomed.

Thanks also go to Jenny and Dave, and Megan and Craig for giving me a bed and showing me around.

Specific thanks to Brock and Jo - who I travelled with for the last bit of my trip. I'd have come home earlier if I'd not got the jeep to Leh. We had some fun times...

Thanks also to Lindon and Sam for helping me with the preparations - taking me to and from the airport, and being there along the way.

Finally - thanks to Paul and Ruth for giving me a home - I'd have been homeless without you guys...and to Joshua and Harvey for making the world a fun place to live...even the most routine things can be fun if you look at them the right way...

The Long, Long, Long Journey Home - Part 2

2009-12-21T15:05:00.002Z

There's something really good about seeing people you know...

...and it was really great to see Lindon and Sam again. They've been something of a constant in my trip, having been in Australia in February, and then India in October. They also dropped me at the airport at the start of my trip, and so it seemed to round things off nicely when they offered to get me from the airport.

And so we set off for the final bit of my round the world trip...which fulfills another of my ambitions which has been to make a complete circle of the world. I've been to the "other side" twice before - but never managed to make it all the way round. This time - I've done it (although now I have to do it in the other direction :-).

It was great to catch up on news as we drove back through the dark and cold. Here we are in the car on the trip home:

We arrived back home - more than 37 hours after I'd set off from Colombo the previous day. Kind of crazy when you can fly from London to Sydney in significantly less time...but at least I was home safely.

Here's the moment I finally made it home:

Ruth had made a special dinner (Eggplant Parmigiana - one of my favs :-), and Auntie Margaret and Lindon and Sam stayed for the evening. It was great to catch up with Paul and the stuff he's doing at the moment. It was really relaxing - just what I needed given that I was feeling pretty wiped out.

One of the big highlights was being able to spend some time with my nephews Joshua and Harvey. Joshua was really excited about the whole thing - and was non-stop talking the whole time...but the biggest surprise was how big Harvey was one year on. When I'd left he'd been a baby - it was a bit of a shock when a little boy ran up to me...and he was talking as well - which was even more amazing.

The presents from Sri Lanka were a real winner...although perhaps trying to fly a helicopter inside wasn't the best idea :-).

It was a really amazing welcome home - just what I needed - thanks guys :-)

The Long, Long, Long Journey Home...Part 1

2009-12-16T12:02:00.001Z

I'd already booked my flight from Delhi as part of the round the world ticket - and after phoning BA and STA Travel found out it would be more expensive to change it than buy a cheap flight from Colombo to Delhi and catch my original flight.

After breakfast with Nicole and Brock - sadly it was time to say goodbye. I'd been travelling with Brock for almost three months, and running into him on the bus to Leh was one of the best things that happened on my trip. We certainly had a lot of fun...

But it was time to head home. And despite part of me not wanting to go, another part of me was really looking forward to seeing everyone. After a year on the road - I've really come to appreciate having a "home". It's so amazing to know that there's one place in the world where I can always go...

So I headed to the bus and made my way to the airport. It took ages for the bus to finally get there, and I was starting to worry that I was going to miss the flight. But after another long delay at the connecting bus station, I finally made it to the airport with not much time to go, and actually ended up walking through the initial security checks without anyone x-raying my bag...good job really as I had more than the allowed amount of liquids in my bag (contact lens solution in case anyone was wondering).

And then it was on to the flight to Chennai where I enjoyed another free upgrade to business class :-)

Arriving in India was a real experience. And I soon remembered how hard it is to do anything here.

First - I was told to queue in front of a certain desk to get stamped into India. But when I finally made it to the front of the queue - the same guy told me I'd joined the wrong queue. Despite explaining to him that he'd told me to queue there - he was adamant that I was wrong - so I had to join the very long queue at the foreign passports desk...and despite there being several officials sitting around doing nothing they wouldn't let us go to the other free desks.

Then we had to go through the Swine Flu check. They have all these cameras with heat sensors - which is a bit of a joke really as it does feel like just about everyone in India has Swine Flu. They'd probably be better off having the checks for when people leave the country :-)

And then - rather unbelievably - you have to go through security checks to get out of the airport - which includes x-ray and bag searches - even though everyone leaving has just got off an international flight...

...and while I'm ranting: Chennai airport has to be one of the worst in the world. The domestic and international terminals are in the same building - but they make you go out of the building and walk about a quarter of a mile to the other end just to get to the domestic departures. All the while - your being hassled for taxi rides and the like.

And then - they wouldn't let me in to the building because my flight didn't leave for another few hours. In the end I managed to sneak in while the guard was busy checking the tickets of a large group, and hung around in the upstairs bit where all the offices are...so much for all the security...

And then it was on to the flight to Delhi...

I had a few hours to kill at Delhi, and as I had to switch from Domestic to International, I had the same problem of them not letting me in the airport. But in the end, I managed to talk my way in, and had the worst Subway I've ever eaten...

I'd been on the go for 13 hours when I finally boarded the BA flight back to London. But the trip was about to get even worse.

After the departure time had come and gone, we were told that the baggage machine had crashed into the airplane and left some dents which had to be checked out. It was going to take 15 minutes.

More than an hour later, we were told that they had to get London involved and it was going to take another 15 minutes. More than an hour later we were told that Boeing were going to have to get involved and it was going to take 20 minutes.

More than two hours later we were told that everything was OK and we were good to go.

And so we set off.

Now I usually avoid BA having had some bad experiences in the past - and this flight really reminded me why. The chair was really uncomfortable, and the food was terrible. The only thing that made it any good were the excellent cabin crew who tried to keep everyone happy during the flight - despite bearing the brunt of a number of passengers frustrations.

One (small) highlight - I watched a really amazing film called Moon - which I really enjoyed...but apart from that - it was the worst flight of my trip.

Given that we were now more than four hours behind, the plane touched down at Heathrow five minutes before my plane to Manchester was due to leave. So I tried my best to get from terminal 5 to terminal 1 - but it just wasn't going to happen.

So I found the BMI desk, and they were really helpful. They did say BA should have sorted things out, and that BA had a flight I could have easily made if they'd have sorted it all out at T5. But they did book me on their next available flight - which was going to leave 5 hours later.

So I hung around the new and improved T1. I was glad to see that it's been done up - Heathrow used to be my least favourite airport in the world - but it's really good these days.

Fish and chips, too much coffee, and some work on the blog, and I finally made it onto the plane.

BMI domestic flights are really good - and it's only an hour so it wasn't too bad. Oh - and it didn't seem too cold in the UK - the one thing I wasn't really looking forward to.

Colombo

2009-12-09T09:22:00.001Z

It had to end.

And while part of me really wanted to stay, I had to get back to the UK for Joshua and Harvey's christening - the one unmooveable (only :-) date in my diary.

So, after a final Coral Light breakfast, we headed back on the bus to Colombo.

And did the day I'd done with Jo and then Christine when it was there turn to leave. We got a room at the YMCA, and then headed out to get lunch at the corner restaurant. In the UK it would be closed down as a health risk - but it's one of the best places I've eaten at. The barbecue fish is amazing, as is the egg fried rice with Sambol. From there we headed off to the shops so I could pick up some last minute things, and then we headed to the best place in Colombo: The Galle Face Hotel.

After a few G'n'T's we decided on a real treat: a meal at the Sea Spray restaurant at the hotel. The eat as much as you like seafood buffet costs 9 pounds, so we decided to indulge...and the food was a amazing, with an incredible selection of seafood cooked to order...

Enjoying a G'n'T at the GFH - Nicole, Brock, and me:

And sunet:

And one final moment - getting ready to enjoy seafood buffet:

A perfect evening - and the perfect end to my trip. Great food - great location - great company. You can't ask for more than that...

Unawatuna

2009-12-09T09:13:00.002Z

One thing I'd really wanted to do at the end of my trip was to spend the last few days at the beach. Given that Brock was under orders to rest his foot, we decided to head back to Unawatuna and enjoy the chilled out atmosphere there.

It's a really great place to hang out - and is really cheap as well.

So we headed back to the Village Inn and got a room...

The one constant of our time in Una was the Coral Light - the absolute best place for food in the village, run by an incredible family who really made us feel welcome. The food's also amazing, and the prices are the best in town.

Here's a view of the beach from Coral Light:

We started every day with the excellent Coral Light breakfast: fried eggs, toast, coffee, and Vegemite which we got from a store in Galle:

And then we'd swim, or chat, or watch a film, or read, before heading out for a few beers in the evening:

One night we messed around with the long exposure setting on my camera and got these crazy pictures:

It's monsoon here, so it tends to rain in the afternoons, which looks a lot like this (click the pic to watch the video):

But usually results in amazing sunsets, or incredible lightning displays out at sea. Here's one of the sunset at Una:

For a change of scenery we headed into Galle one day, and spotted this:

Not something you see everyday...and apart from that, there's not much to report...except:

The giant spiders we found in our room:

And the rather good bottle of Jacob's Creek we had one arvo:

We were also lucky to run into Nicole who'd spent a fair amount of time in Una and knew a lot about the area. One interesting thing about this part of the world is that there's a magnetic field that's the third strongest in the world after the north and south poles about 26km off shore from Una. Which might explain why it's such a relaxing place.

Learning all about natural child birth...from a real expert...and amazonian tribes...

And then there was the day I got stung by a jellyfish - which has left a scar...

And walking around the headland to the rocks at the end of the beach and seeing loads of crabs and some fish that could climb up onto the rocks and breath fresh air.

And finally, it's not uncommon to see turtles in the sea here, but I was never able to really see any while swimming - until my last day, when one surfaced five feet away...

Too bad it had to end. But then, all good things have to come to an end.

Colombo

2009-12-05T10:09:00.003Z

Brock was still experiencing significant pain in his foot, and he suspected that it might be broken. So we jumped on a bus back to Colombo and made our way to the hospital to get an X-Ray.

After a completely useless consultation where the Doctor said it definitely wasn't broken and there was nothing wrong with it, Brock managed to get an X-Ray - and it turns out that a piece of his heel bone had chipped off. Which just goes to show - we really do know how to have a very big night out...

They decided not to put a cast on because of the position of the break, but did bandage it up and said it would take two weeks to heal...

Brock getting his foot bandaged:

So with nothing else to do, we headed to the Galle Face Hotel to enjoy one of the best spots in the world:

As it was Sunday night most stuff is closed in the Fort CBD, so we headed to the station for Egg Kottu (roti that's chopped and fried with egg) and decided to call it a night...Bob est ton oncle, as they say in Canada...

Kandy

2009-12-05T09:56:00.002Z

Kandy is a great place to spend a few days. After arriving and finding a place, we had a wander around and popped into a tiny cafe to get dinner.

I'd seen Devilled dishes on lots of menus here and decided to try the devilled fish - I'd have to say - all of the food in Sri Lanka is amazing - but the Devilled dishes are really outstanding...here's a pic:

They always ask if you want it spicy - and this was one of the spiciest things I've eaten on my trip. All the little green things are chillies - so it had a major kick. Amazing...and not bad for just over a quid...

Brock also decided to try the plain hoppers - what can only be described as a cross between a pancake and a breast implant. Here's some being modeled:

Now the residents of Kandy are well known for there conservative ways - and tend to go to bed early. Which means that there's not much going on at night. But we did decided to do the Kandy Pub crawl challenge - which consists of a beer in each of the pubs in town. The only problem - there are only two pubs in town - so it's not much of a challenge...and they all shut at around 10pm just to add to the excitement...

Enjoying a beer in the Queen's Hotel Bar:

Kandy was favored by the British Colonizers, and there are signs of their occupation here, particularly in the architecture. Sadly - the colonizers brought people from India to work as slaves in the tea plantations, which resulted in the 26 year long war that's thankfully just ended in the country. Kandy was badly shelled at one point - but there's no evidence of that now.

Kandy sits on the banks of a beautiful lake - and as Sri Lanka's only other city has a real buzz about it.

Kandy Lake:

One highlight is the chance to see traditional dancing - which is finished off with a fire walking ceremony. So we made our way in the afternoon to get tickets, and were able to reserve seats by writing our names on a large sheet of paper and placing them on the seats we wanted:

After a rather pleasant cup of Sri Lankan coffee, we headed off to see the evenings entertainment...first - some traditional dance:

Next: a guy spinning his mother's best plates on sticks:

And then the moment we'd all been waiting for...the fire ceremony. It got off to a start with this:

And then went on like this:

It was good fun and definitely recommended - although it's all a bit tongue in cheek.

And then - because it was there - we set off on the Kandy Pub Crawl Challenge...which started off with a good old fashioned, England in a glass, Gin and Tonic at the Queen's Hotel Bar:

And ended in KFC, at the unearthly hour of 10.30pm, where your not allowed to take photos for some reason:

Now how did that happen:

And that was Kandy...

Dambulla

2009-12-04T14:30:00.004Z

We'd been planning to spend two days at Polonnaruwa, but as we'd seen everything in one, we jumped on the bus to Dambulla to see the famous Buddhist caves there. While it was worth the diversion in the end - the caves aren't as impressive as the ancient cities - and the government seems to be running a bit of a scam by not including them in the $50USD round ticket.

Which means it's an extra $10USD to get in. If you've got deep pockets then it's worth it - if your on a budget then I'd probably give it a miss...

Having found a place to stay, we decided to head back in the pouring rain to get some food and have a look around. There's not much to recommend Dambulla itself, and after eating we found the only bar in town. The only problem was - the manager would only sell us beer at twice the local price...so we headed to the local grocery store and bought some beers and sat in a closed shop front like a couple of winos...

The next day we had breakfast and headed off to the caves. Here's a picture of the museum at the bottom of the hill:

From there, it's a long steep climb to the top where the caves are. Here's a rather unusual sign we spotted on the way up:

The view from the top:

And a pic of the outside of the caves at the top of the hill:

And a selection of pictures inside the caves:

And then we headed back into Dambulla to get the bus to Kandy. For anyone wondering what bus travel looks like in Sri Lanka - it's a lot like this (click the pic to view the video):

Polonnaruwa

2009-12-04T14:01:00.001Z

Having seen everything we wanted at Anhradupura we decided to catch the bus to Polonnnaruwa.

Polonnaruwa is the second major empire in Sri Lanka, and was built around 1000AD, and became the new capital of Sri Lanka. Just like Anhradupura there's lots to see - with the most famous site being the carving at Gal Vihariya.

But first...the museum...

Now I'm not one for museums - everything we know about history tends to be conjecture and theory - so there's no real way of trusting what we're told, and theories keep changing as new things get discovered. In fact - it's thought that recent findings have invalidated some of the theories currently being presented as fact at Polonnaruwa...

But having said all of that - it's worth taking a look around, because it's excellent display gives a real appreciation for what there is to see and how best to get around the various sites. Bearing in mind that Brock was still in significant amounts of pain we tried to work out a route that would cut the walking to a minimum.

From the museum it's a short walk to the ruins - with the first thing on the list the Royal Meeting Chamber:

View of the large artificial lake, used to provide water to the capital:

Our shoes - stacked out of the rain at one of the temples:

Temple at the Royal Palace:

Detailed carving:

A giant book style carving:

Taking a well earned coconut break:

And a huge snake we saw at the ruins (click on the pic to view the video):

And finally the most famous and impressive site here - the carvings of Gal Vihariya:

On one of the evenings we decided to head up to the Polunaruwa guest house which sits on the lake and is famous for having been used as an overnight visit by the Queen a long time ago. It's not a bad spot for a cup of tea as the sun sets - but the food portions are very very small...I wonder if the Queen takes snacks on trips - because she'd have needed them if she'd eaten here :-)

Anuradhapura

2009-11-25T10:12:00.002Z

The plan: to visit the ancient cities on our way to an adventure trip to Jaffna at the top of the island, through what was until recently a war zone.

We managed the first bit - but will have to save the second bit for another visit to Sri Lanka.

The ancient cities represent the empire that existed here between the fourth and eleventh century. It's know where near as grand as Angkor Wat in Cambodia - but in it's own way - it's rather impressive.

Anuradhapura represents the first major capital, and one of the most stable and durable empires in South East Asia - it's was (and still is) considered a sacred Buddhist site. It was decided during the eleventh century to move the capital for security reasons to Polunaruwa - more on which later.

It costs $50USD to buy a ticket for the main historic sites in this part of Sri Lanka...which is ridiculously expensive given that you could very very easily live for four or more days in Sri Lanka for the same amount of money.

But there's no other way of seeing the sites - so we dug deep into our pockets and paid out the cash. We also decided to rent a tuk tuk for the day to cut the walking, and got a pretty good deal...we'd already gone through the Lonely Planet so knew what we really wanted to see and concentrated on the main bits.

So we started with the Jetavanarama Dagoba:

This pictures doesn't really do it justice. It was a huge shrine said to have been built in the 4th century AD, and represented the real power and might of this ancient kingdom. When it was built it stood at over 100 meters, and would have been at that time the third highest structure in the world.

Today - it stands at 70 meters as a piece dropped off the top and they've decided not to replace it.

It's still a place of worship, although significant restoration work has been completed. One fascinating feature are the numbers hand painted on each piece of the huge mosaic floor that surrounds the Dagoba - like the world's most complicated jigsaw puzzle:

While we were looking around, there was a weird effect with the sun, which looked like this:

The site contains some ornate carvings which have weathered the passage of time:

From there we headed to see the large twin pools used for ceremonial washing:

And then on to one of the most revered and finest carvings in Sri Lanka - the delicate Samadhi Buddha carved around 400AD:

One of the many monkey's keeping an eye on things:

From there we set off to see the famous moonstones - incredibly intricate carvings used as thresholds into the most important buildings.

It's amazing to think that something so intricate was carved so that it could be walked on - and it's even more amazing how well preserved the moonstones are given the passage of feet and time...

Brock taking a picture...

...of me...

...taking a picture of him...

From there it was a short walk to the keeper stone - perhaps one of the finest pieces of carving in Sri Lanka:

While we were there, we spotted this scorpion - which unfortunately was dead:

Just down the road is the giant Elephant Pool. It's the size of six Olympic swimming pools...it's usually full of water, but there's been a drought and it's gotten fairly empty:

And then it was off to see the Bodhi Tree shrine - which is a cutting from the original tree in Bhod Gaya in India under which Buddha meditated to achieve enlightenment. It's an impressive site - but even more so was the huge Dagoba near by:

Paintings at one of the many shrines here:

And one of the smaller Dagoba's housing ancient relics:

...and finally - one of the many large lizards in Sri Lanka (click the picture to view the video):

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Just for anyone whose thinking of visiting - give the Royal Palace a miss - the Planet bigs it up - but it's nothing more than a pile of bricks - hardly worth the necessary detour to see it.

One Week In Colombo

2009-11-24T09:32:00.002Z

Christine had to leave for the airport the next morning, and because Brock was finding it hard to walk, we made it as far as the bus stand which is just around the corner from the YMCA.

We decided to stay in Colombo until Brock's foot was better, and then head off to the north of Sri Lanka. We ended up spending a week hanging out...and it went something like this:

Get up, head down stairs and across the road for a fried egg and spicy onion relish sanger. A bit of reading, or a chat while drinking Elephant Ginger Beer, followed by a trip to McDonalds for coffee and free Wifi. Lunch at "The Corrner Cafe" by the YMCA for egg fried rice and sambol (a super spicy but amazingly tasty chili relish). A trip down Galle Face Green, maybe a coffee or a beer at the hotel, or egg Kotu or fried rice for diner from the station, or a beer and a film (Fight Club was a definite winner)...

One really amazing thing about Sri Lanka is the food. It's like no other food in the world - and even though I'm not that great a fan of plates of rice - I ended up craving the egg fried rice and sambol...or the deep fried roti with vege or fish filling, or dhal and rice, or egg roti with dhal for breakfast, or deep fried fish, or every other combination of tasty food available on the streets...forget Thai, forget Vietnamese, forget Sushi - Sri Lankan is where it's at...

It's easy to pass time here in Colombo - although there were some other notable events that kept us entertained, like:

A trip to the visa office to get a visa extension...
Telling the Tuk Tuk drivers we lived in Colombo so we could get cheap rides to save walking...
Buying a set of crutches...
Finally getting Brock's new Ipod...Spending the whole day at the Apple store successfully recovering all the deleted files off the old Ipod and putting them on the new...it was like doing a full days work - we even had out own desk :-)
Drinking way too much coffee...
Freezing to death in Mcdonals - and finding amusing ways to complain:

But in the end - we started getting itchy feet (metaphorically of course), and when I woke up one morning looking like this:

...we decided it was time to get out of Colombo...

Break Dancing: Colombo

2009-11-23T22:09:00.002Z

It was Christine's last night in Sri Lanka - so we decided to have a big night out.

It was so big - it was going to result in us having to stay in Colombo for a whole week, and would shape the rest of both Brock and my time in Sri Lanka...for not entirely good reasons...although thankfully everything worked out in the end.

After arriving in town and finding a room, we headed out to the Galle Face Hotel and had a few drinks while we watched the sun set into the ocean.

Christine, Brock, and myself, enjoying the view and fine surroundings of the Galle Face Hotel:

The Lonely Planet doesn't really rate Colombo - but I'd have to say - it's one of my favorite cities, and having spent a lot of time here, it's really grown on me. It almost feels like home - and I'm pretty sure I could live here for a while.

One of the great things about Colombo is there's a very strong ex-pat community, which means there's usually something going on...and luckily for us it was Oktoberfest at the Hilton.

It was a really great night out - as expected there were plenty of different beers to try, and it was reasonably priced. Music was provided by a German band who were really entertaining, and the dance floor soon filled up as the evening rolled on.

We ended up leaving well after midnight, although sadly I wasn't allowed to keep the souvenir beer glass that had somehow found it's way into my pocket. Shame...

Given that we had planned on a big night out, we decided to try out one of Colombo's nightclubs. It was a rather bizarre experience: imagine forty men, all standing around watching five men treating five women like possessions at best and objects at worse. Very, very strange...and as bizarre as it sounds.

There's something a bit odd about Sri Lankan society. While Sri Lankan men are under the impression that all western woman want to have sex with any Sri Lankan man at the drop of a hat, Sri Lankan women are heavily chaperoned and it's almost impossible for a western man to talk to a Sri Lankan woman.

We've not only observed this - but we've been told it first hand by Sri Lankan men...

Even very innocent conversations are viewed with suspicion, and even hostility, by the (usually male) chaperons. Like when we asked one of the woman at the nightclub if the chairs at the table next to there's was free - out of know where a man was there standing watching what was happening. At one point, one of the woman was dragged from the nightclub by a guy just as the result of a very innocent and rather funny comment made at the bar while we were ordering drinks.

...but at least the music was good...which required dancing...which required getting onto the dance floor...via the rather large flight of stairs. Definitely a health and safety risk and probably illegal in the UK...particularly as it was big enough to allow people to launch themselves from the top of the stairs and hit the dance floor running.

Which we did...Quite a lot...

Except at one point Brock jumped off ahead of me and had what can only be described as a freak accident. Given that we'd already done this quite a few times, the chances of injury were very very slim. But on this one occasion, something happened, and Brock ended up landing awkwardly...the next thing I saw was him hoping his way back to where we were sitting.

It looked painful, and as his dancing abilities were reduced to zero in one painful moment, we decided to call it a night, and hobble back to the YMCA.

There was a rather amusing and good natured incident involving several police officers, and a traffic cone being worn as a hat, which really entertained the locals...but the less said about that incident the better...

But despite the freak injury - it was a really great night out...

Unawatuna

2009-11-22T10:18:00.002Z

Sri Lanka's South West coast is known for it's beaches, and as I'd not seen it, Brock suggested that we head down the coast to a small place called Unawatuna. Jo had told me how good it was - and that I should definitely go there as I would love it...so I was really looking forward to leaving Negombo and heading out that way..

We caught the bus back to Colombo - and then the train to Unawatuna. The journey itself is worth doing, as the train runs down the coast often close to the sea and the views are amazing.

Here's a pic of me hanging out of the train door on the way to Unawatuna:

Christine and Brock on the train:

The train stops in Galle, from where it's a ten minute Tuk Tuk or bus ride to Unawatuna. It's an amazing place - and Jo was right - I loved it...

Unawatuna beach:

We spent about a week here, and most days went something like this:

A late start, followed by breakfast, followed by a swim in the sea, followed by coffee, and then some lunch, followed by some reading, or maybe another swim in the sea, followed by dinner...such hard work - but someone has to do it...

It was good to really relax, enjoy the good weather, the beautiful warm water of the bay, and the great company...perfect days :-)

On one of the days, the three of us decided to head to Galle to have a look around. It was colonized by a whole load of people (Portuguese, Dutch, and British), and the influences are obvious.

Brock and Christine on the walls at Galle Fort:

And enjoying the sun:

Brock being interviewed by a school class on tourism in Sri Lanka:

And the buildings of the old town - including the lighthouse:

The sign says it all - and highlights the importance this port once had in international trade:

The old town is full of old churches - each reflecting the various traditions of the colonizers that built them. The Dutch church is famous for it's floor, which is made entirely of gravestones:

"God and my right": the crest of the British Empire - identical to the one at the entrance to Skipton Castle:

Sadly - it was time for Christine to leave Sri Lanka on her way back to India and then home - and as we had to collect Brock's Ipod, we decided to head back to Colombo for a few days, and caught the train back to the capital...it was going to be a very eventful few days that were going to change the course of our trip...

Negombo

2009-11-21T08:14:00.002Z

We were told that we would have to wait three days for Brock's Ipod to arrive - and because we were craving some beach time - Brock and I decided to catch the train to Negombo so we could easily get back into Colombo before setting off to explore the rest of Sri Lanka.

Negombo is one of the main beach resorts - not only because of it's proximity to the airport, but because it's entirely set up for foreign tourists...it's not a bad place to spend a few days, although to be fair, there are better (and cheaper) places on the South West coast. It's main clientèle are rich Europeans who don't mind paying for a bit of exclusivity...although with a bit of bartering and some hunting around, it's possible to do Negombo on a budget.

Access way to the beach in Negombo:

Christine, who we'd traveled with in Diu and who was also in Sri Lanka, decided to head down to Negombo to meet us...so the three of us spent a few days enjoying the sun.

Despite repeated phone calls, the Apple retailer still hadn't bothered to order Brock's replacement Ipod, and as he was now saying it was going to take a week to arrive, we decided it was time for a change of scenery...

Colombo - Part 2

2009-11-21T08:00:00.002Z

Brock and I got back to Colombo from the airport at about 8am, and decided to stay up rather than get any sleep...and it turned into the world's longest day...

After breakfast and twelve hours of hanging around, it was still only 10am, so we headed out to get some fresh Coconut, and make our way to the best free wifi spot in town: McDonalds.

Coconuts in Colombo:

Brock's Ipod had broken, and as it was under warranty he headed to the Apple dealer to try and get a replacement. Which isn't as easy as it would at first appear...mainly because the dealer couldn't say when it would arrive...because they couldn't decide when they'd be able to get around to ordering it...

So we headed to the Galle Face Hotel for drinks while the sun set, and were very happily entertained by a couple of squirrels who seemed as keen on the Bombay mix as we were. One even played it up for the camera - click the pictures to view the videos:

After some food at Fort we headed back to the YMCA to watch a film and called it a night...

Colombo - Part 1

2009-11-20T14:36:00.000Z

It was Jo's last day, as she was heading to Bangkok for a few days before heading home...sadly - all good things must come to an end...

We had a monster plan for all the things we were going to do that day - but ended up doing very little at all...no surprise really...

After breakfast we walked down Galle Face Green to enjoy the sea view and ended up having coffee and lunch in McDonalds. That evening - Jo and Brock had a surprise lined up, and an hour before sunset we set off to walk back up to the Galle Face Hotel:

Enjoying the sea view on Galle Face Green:

Thanks to Jo for this pic...

The Galle Face Hotel is the hotel in town. It's got an impressive position right on the sea front, with the waves crashing against the sea wall. The sunsets are amazing because the sun sets into the ocean, and there's a large seating area where you can enjoy the view.

So we did...

Jo and Brock - enjoying a few drinks and the view at the Galle Face Hotel:

Holding the sun:

Sunset - and an excellent bottle of Montana Reserve Chardonnay:

Enjoying a final beer and cigars before the trip to the airport:

Thanks to Jo for this picture...

Sadly we ran out of time - and so headed off to the Airport to see Jo off. Only passengers are allowed into the airport - although they do allow you to go in if you purchase a really expensive airport visitors ticket. So to save a bit of cash we faked some airline e-tickets and managed to get in without any problems.

And then we did what we'd been doing a lot of in the last two months - hung around waiting for Jo :-). But then Jo's flight was called, and after final goodbyes, we waved her goodbye, and set off to catch the bus back into Colombo.

Dalhousie

2009-11-20T13:28:00.002Z

The plan had been to get an early night, and then get up at 3am to climb Adam's Peak - the third highest mountain in Sri Lanka. It's a famous pilgrimage site - as there's what is claimed to be a footprint in the rock at the summit - and all the major religions here claim that it was made by some one connected with their religion.

So instead of going to bed early as we'd planned we ended up enjoying a bottle of wine and a few beers. There may have also been a nasty incident with some packing tape, and we said we'd never mention the permanent marker again. Hang on - did I just mention the permanent marker?

Er...it all went downhill from here :-)

Thanks to Jo for this rather amazing action photo...

After a ridiculously short time trying to sleep and totally failing, the alarm went off and it was time to get up. Except it was chucking it down - and when we looked outside none of us could be bothered getting up and walking up a mountain in the pouring rain. Especially as there was no guarantee that we'd be able to see the view when we got there.

My only disappointment was that I missed the chance to get a photo with a leech stuck on me - as we were told there were plenty on the path when it's raining - I even had some salt ready to remove them after the photo...oh well...maybe next time...

So we went back to bed and got some sleep...

The next morning we got up, and had a rather pleasant breakfast sitting on the balcony of the place we were staying. And then it was time to pack our bags, wait an hour or two for Jo :-), and then head out to catch the bus to Colombo...

Here's the view of the balcony where we had breakfast:

The bus journey went through the hill country and was really picturesque. Here's a picture on the road back to Colombo:

And here's one of some of the amazing trees in full bloom:

Unfortunately for Brock, the little lad who was sat behind him decided to be sick and puked all over Brock's back - not nice...

But finally...we arrived in Colombo, got a room at the YMCA, had some food, and called it a night...tomorrow would be Jo's last day in Sri Lanka...

The Road To Dalhousie

2009-11-15T13:17:00.002Z

While in Mumbai I'd been thinking of heading to Rajasthan after my trip to Chennai, and then catch my flight back home. Which was way different from my original plan which had been to go to Nepal and then head back to Delhi.

But in the end I decided to head to Sri Lanka instead - and it turned out to be one of the best decisions I've made...

India can be hard work and there's a lot of hassle. Yes - it's an amazing place to visit and there are some great things to see - but still - it can be very draining. Which was really the last thing I wanted before heading back to the UK.

And on reflection - I wasn't really ready to call it a day.

The other reason for going to Sri Lanka was to meet up with Jo and Brock. Jo was going to be there for three days before heading back home, and then Brock and I were going to travel for the rest of my trip.

One thing I've found a bit frustrating about travelling is the constant goodbyes - particularly when I've met people I've really hit it off with. Travelling alone has it's advantages - but it also has it's disadvantages - and the chance to travel with someone else for a while was very appealing.

So I booked a Kingfisher flight from Chennai to Colombo in Sri Lanka. Luckily for me - I got a free upgrade to first class...I was really wishing the flight could have lasted a bit longer :-)

Sri Lanka feels very different to India. It's clearly more developed, and is a lot easier to travel around. At the airport - there are so few of the hassles associated with arriving in a major city in India. And the other good thing: it's cheaper than India...

Jo and Brock were in the hill country and I'd arranged to meet them at Dalhousie so we could climb Adam's Peak. It took an hour on the bus to get into Colombo and I headed to the train station to see what the options were. I'd had no sleep on the train the night before, and the only train to Hatton left in the middle of the night.

So I headed to the bus station and found a bus that would make the five hour trip to Hatton from where another bus would take me to Dalhousie.

But while we were waiting to set off, smoke started to fill the bus and everybody raced off it in case it was on fire. So I decided that the best thing would be to find the YMCA (which has the cheapest rooms in town), get some sleep, and catch the morning train.

The next morning I jumped on the train to Hatton where I met Jo and Brock...I must say - it was great to see them again...after coffee and cakes, and a quick catch up, we caught the bus to Dalhousie...

Tanuku

2009-11-14T13:54:00.002Z

After a few days in Tanali we spent a day travelling north to a small town called Tanuku. There's not that much to see in the center of the town - but it's surrounded by beautiful countryside - mainly sugarcane plantations. It's also one of the main places where Eare are working.

On the road to Tanuku:

On the way we stopped at a Leprosy mission run by Eare that cares for over forty people - many of whom are now disabled as a result of Leprosy. As Swine Flu is sweeping through India at the moment, a number of the people from the center had been taken to hospital. But we were still able to introduce ourselves to the rest of the people at the center and hand out supplies.

Handing out eggs and water:

Ruth distributing bananas:

Sudheer had managed to get us rooms in a pretty good hotel - it even had air con, TV, and most surprising of all: actual hot water coming out of the shower...it was going to be our base from which we would visit the outlying villages.

The one experience that really sticks in my mind from Tanuku is the evening we went to visit the untouchables. India has a strong caste system, which segregates society and dictates the type of life a child is going to live. For those at the top of the pile - a life of luxury and privileged. For those at the bottom of the pile - poverty and hardship.

The untouchables are at the bottom. It's considered by many a terrible thing to touch an untouchable - hence the name.

It took an hour to reach the village - a collection of over two hundred wood and banana leaf shacks on a piece of scrub land owned by the government. For many - the only income is made from digging through garbage dumps looking for materials that can be sold for recycling.

It's a hard existence - but these are real people - with real hopes and dreams.

As we pulled up in the van the children ran along side laughing and joking with each other. All of them wanted to shake our hands and ask our names. They might have very little - but there's a happiness and joy in the most simple things of life that you don't see most other places...

The untouchables:

A church service was held in the village for those who wanted to attend, followed by the distribution of food. Sudheer's team have already built bore wells here so that the people have access to safe drinking water, and a free medical service is in the pipeline.

It was an amazing and humbling experience to walk through this village as the sun sank from the sky and the night became dark. It feels strange to find so many smiles in a place that should be bereft of hope - but it's here - and it feels real...

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We did a lot of other things during our time here: visited several old peoples homes, a medical center providing free health care, visited some churches connected with the relief efforts, and held a number of services in outlying villages. And that doesn't really cover everything Eare are doing in India.

It's an amazing organisation, run for Indians by Indians - and every cent invested in it goes directly to the point of need.

It was really an amazing time...not only because of the things we did and saw - but also because of the team spirit that quickly developed. We laughed - a lot...

Time really flew and soon it was time for me to leave. I'd booked my plane ticket a day earlier than I should, having got the dates wrong in my calendar, and so had to say goodbye to everyone and catch the overnight train to Chennai to make my flight.

Here's me with Sudheer, his children, and Sunni at the station:

----------

Thanks to John Prosser for allowing us to go with him to India, and especially to Lindon and Sam for organizing everything. And a big thank you to Sudheer, his family, and the team at Eare who really looked after us...and to Sunni for the French Fries and Indian "Croissants" :-)

Tanali - Part 2

2009-11-13T13:31:00.002Z

The visit to meet the Railway Children was the saddest thing I've seen on my trip. Visiting third world and under developed countries can be challenging at times - but nothing had prepared me for the stories we were going to hear.

This is really where Sudheer's heart is: to help children, who through life's circumstances are treated in the most shocking ways, and are at the very bottom of life's ladder. It's obvious in the way he talks about the project that he's very passionate about it - and his enthusiasm is really infectious.

The Railway Children project rescues children who are forced to live on India's railway system, begging or stealing to scratch together an existence. Many are orphans - rejected by their relatives as a financial burden and sent out to live on the streets with nothing.

The Railway Children:

Sadly - their presence isn't tolerated by the authorities and if caught they are often badly beaten. In many cases, they will jump from the trains in a bid to escape what they know will happen - often resulting in horrific injuries. In many cases, the children have had limbs amputated by the wheels of the train from which they jumped.

We heard story after story, as each of the young boys told us how they had ended up at the Railway Children Project. They were all depressingly similar.

Introducing ourselves to the children - Ruth, Sam, Sudheer, Lindon, Steve, and David:

And the children eating lunch:

On the positive side - despite the terrible things these children have experienced - they now have a home, a place to get education, and food to eat. It was amazing to see so many happy smiles...

Chillies drying in the sun in Tanali:

Tanali - Part 1

2009-11-12T13:20:00.002Z

What seems like a very long time ago, Lindon and Sam mentioned that they might be doing a trip to India, and we said that we'd meet up if it worked out. Which it did - and which is why I was in Chennai.

I got up early and headed out to the airport to meet them and I must say - it was really good to see some familiar faces.

The reason they were in India was to visit an orphanage - and that was pretty much all I knew about what was happening over the next week or so. But it would turn out to be a fun and challenging experience.

We were collected from the airport by Sudheer who runs an organisation called Eare Ministries. It's a Christan organisation that focuses on helping people who aren't in a position to help themselves.

It turns out - it's way more than just an orphanage - Eare is a major organisation with an incredible staff - and as the week went on, the scale of what Sudheer and his team are doing in India continued to grow.

Steve, Lindon, and Sam on the bus from the airport - you can just see Sudheer on the right of the picture:

And me and Ruth...

After resting up for a while, we caught the train to Tanali where Sudheer lives and where he kindly put us up in his home.

Steve and Ruth - catching up on sleep after their long flight:

It turns out that the day before we'd arrived at Sudheer's house there'd been major flooding in the area, with hundreds dead and thousands displaced. The scenes from the TV were shocking as the full extent of the disaster became known.

For Sudheer and his team - this is an opportunity for them to move into action - and they were busy arranging for aid to be delivered to the affected villages. So the next day we set off to visit the villages and take supplies.

This is a pic of the road on the way to the disaster relief area:

And this is where the flooding starts:

The green patch in the background of this picture is a banana plantation - the water is almost covering the tops of the banana trees:

Lorries carrying relief aid and the boats that will take it to the villages:

We'd been told in the morning that we might not be able to go out to the villages because one of the boats carrying aid had sunk the day before. When we arrived at the relief drop off point it turns out that not only had the boat sunk - but all of the people on board had been killed. So we weren't allowed to go on the boats...but not to worry - because Sudheer had arranged to take us to a few of the refugee camps set up to house the people who had been displaced.

Typical houses in this part of India:

This refugee camp is in a school and is currently housing five hundred people:

As we had to wait for Sudheer to negotiate with a few officials on where exactly we were allowed to go, I wandered off for a look around the area...and ended up chatting with these guys who were unloading flour from a lorry:

They were really friendly and spoke pretty good English...

From there we headed to another camp - the people were more desperate here because no aid had been delivered. Everyone had been segregated into separate rooms to try and keep things a bit calmer - so we split into pairs and started handing out the supplies.

People are incredibly desperate here. And sadly, it wasn't long before a fight broke out, and Ruth and I had to make our way as quickly as we could out of the room and walk around the side of the building to meet the others. No surprise really - as these people didn't know when their next meal was going to arrive.

View of the crowd after Ruth and I had made our escape:

Nurse...this man needs immediate medical attention:

Chennai

2009-11-12T13:17:00.002Z

There's not much to see in Chennai - although it's a reasonable place to kill a few days...it's a really laid back work-a-day type place - although because of it's size it's not that easy to get around...

There's proper coffee (always a good thing), a Spanish Tapas restaurant, and I enjoyed a few drinks one night at the big five star hotel. I may have also accidentally acquired several rolls of toilet paper from their restrooms :-)

Just one picture from Chennai - the global conspiracy that is Oceanic - now in Chennai:

The Road To Chennai

2009-11-10T15:02:00.001Z

My original plan had been to catch the train and visit the ruins at Hampi, before catching another train to Chennai. But when I spent some time working out how long I'd need I realized I didn't have enough time so just booked a cheap flight from Mumbai to Chennai.

I was wondering what would happen at the airport given my last experience there...after some bartering with the hotel managed to get a taxi for a reasonable price.

At 3am the taxi driver arrived and I agreed the price again with him before setting off. After five minutes he demands more money saying it was late at night and therefore would cost more. So I told him that I was only prepared to pay the original price or I'd get out...

Five minutes later he pulls up at the side of the road and tells me he doesn't know which airport to go to. So I showed him my ticket and he made several phone calls to find out, and then demanded extra money for having worked out where he should be going.

So I told him to take me back to the hotel and I'd find another taxi. Which he refused to do. So we headed off towards the airport.

After another five minutes he demands more money as the original price was to go the "slow way" - and if I paid more we could go by the "fast way". So I told him in no uncertain terms that if he didn't get me to the airport on time he wouldn't get any money and there'd be serious trouble.

And then it started raining...

So he demands more money because it's "dangerous driving in the rain" - which he was right about as his windshield wipers didn't work and he kept having to hang out the window to wipe the water away. I told him to forget it and that it was his problem.

As we're driving along the free way, I can just make out a lorry blocking the road, but the driver doesn't slow down and we're racing towards it at a fair speed. So I start braking really hard - which does nothing as I wasn't actually driving...and there weren't any brakes on the passenger side :-)

Next thing - he starts to brake really hard and we nearly run over a police man who starts hitting the taxi with a stick while shouting at the taxi driver. It turns out the free way is closed, and the lorry is a police road block, so we have to make a detour and I'm starting to wonder if I'll make the flight.

I've never been more happy to see an airport terminal - although it took a while for him to get the right one - even though I kept pointing it out on the road signs.

As we pull up at the drop off point he asks for a generous tip to which I tell him to get lost, grab my bag and jump out. Rather annoyingly I didn't have the exact money, and he refused to give me change, so I told him if he didn't give me the change I was going to report him to the police - and as there were a number of police nearby - it seemed to persuade him (kind of) as he gave me half the change...

...so I let rip and he finally paid up. Just what you don't need on the way to the airport...

I had twenty minutes to kill and on a whim bought a ticket to Sri Lanka for the following week, had a coffee, and then enjoyed another excellent Kingfisher Airlines flight. Ahhh - Kingfisher...

If Carlsberg started an airline company - it would probably be Kingfisher...enough said...

Mumbai - Part 2

2009-11-10T14:53:00.002Z

While I was in Leh, I'd made a decision about what I was going to do after my trip, and there were a number of things I needed to do to get the ball rolling. So I spent most of my time in Mumbai making phone calls, at the Internet cafe, or getting some of the stuff done that I needed to do.

It did give me a perfect excuse to drink lots of coffee in the many cafes in Mumbai...

To be fair – it's just another big city - although I did spend a bit of time walking around, and in places it really has a very colonial British feel about it...

Because of all the stuff I was trying to get done (and the large amounts of coffee I was forced to drink :-), I ended up only having a few hours sleep in the three days I was there. But not to worry – I managed to get everything done that I needed to do which was good.

Just one picture from Mumbai – me at Chowpatti Beach in Mumbai:

Mumbai Madness - Part 1

2009-11-09T06:58:00.002Z

The overnight bus journey to Mumbai was long...delayed by a strike in Gujerat...and uncomfortable. I sat next to a complete weirdo who couldn't stop talking about how good religion was because it stopped people having sex with their relatives...

...I was glad when it was over.

We ended up getting a free ride on the train into the city from the bus station, and set off to find a hotel. That night – Jo and Brock were catching a flight to Sri Lanka, and I'd be spending a few days looking around before heading off to meet Lindon and Sam.

So we had a final big night out. Here's a pic of us having pre-going out drinks:

Bobo, TTYS, and Banana Jo :-)

Thanks to Brock for the pic...

After some food and a few drinks we headed out to the airport at 3am. A lot of Asian airports don't allow people without tickets into the airport buildings, so I was surprised when I showed my driving licence and they let me in...

I'd had such an amazing time travelling with Jo and Brock...it was sad to see them go. I really hate good-byes...

Just as Jo and Brock disappeared around the security barrier I heard someone shouting and turned around to see a man walking towards me. He was clearly annoyed about something and kept shouting “where is your ticket?” It went completely quiet in the check in area and I could see people turning around to see what was going on.

When he finally reached me he demanded to see my ticket, and I explained that I'd been saying goodbye to my friends and was just leaving. This didn't seem to help matters and he kept shouting at me wanting to know how I'd got in in the first place.

Having had no sleep for three days I was feeling really wiped out and just wanted to leave...so I explained how I'd got in and that there was no problem because I was leaving, and started walking towards the exit.

Which didn't seem to make any difference as he called over the military police and told me that they were going to arrest me.

So I let him keep shouting while I tried to work out what to do next. Just as the army guys arrived I had a brainwave, and told him that I understood the problem and was happy to be arrested although I wanted to call the British Embassy first to let them know what was going on.

This seemed to throw him a bit, so I set off towards the door again hoping to show them that I really was just trying to leave. Mentioning the British Embassy seemed to do the trick as he changed his line and started to say they weren't going to arrest me but I'd have to pay a massive fine.

So I told him I wasn't going to pay a fine until I'd called the Embassy to ask for their advice.

By this time I'd reached the door and told him I was leaving which didn't seem to calm him down any as he kept shouting about paying a fine. So I walked out and no one followed me which was pretty good.

Tired – but glad to have extracted myself from the situation - I tried to find a ride into town...wish I'd just stayed at the airport...

After a lot of bartering I managed to get a not so bad price into town from a rickshaw driver and we set off just as the sky was starting to turn light.

After about twenty minutes the driver pulls over and announces that he can't actually take his rickshaw into the city and I have to pay him and get out. Given that the price he'd agreed was to go into the City there was no way I was going to pay the full price.

Which he wasn't very happy about.

Mumbai has a bit of a reputation as being unsafe in places (just like most big cities). This is where the slums from Slumdog Millionaire are – and the area the driver had dropped me was obviously not the best place to be hanging around so early in the morning.

Out of nowhere a very suspicious looking taxi pulls up and the driver offers to give me a lift...and so I started to negotiate with him on the price. But because I was stuck - and he knew it - I wasn't able to get a fair deal.

The rickshaw driver kept shouting at me about getting his money and by this point a small crowd was starting to gather. So I gave him what I thought was a fair price for the distance we'd done – although no surprise – he didn't think it was enough.

The crowd kept getting bigger, so I jumped into the taxi...but the driver wouldn't set off because the rickshaw driver kept shouting at him.

Finally I told the taxi driver that if he wanted the money we had to go now.

Thankfully he set off – but rather than going down the freeway he turns off into what looks like an even worse part of town. I must admit – I was starting to get worried at this point – and was glad I didn't have that much stuff with me.

After what seemed like an hour I finally saw something I recognized, so I paid the driver, jumped out, and walked back to the hotel to get some sleep...

Diu

2009-11-07T10:26:00.003Z

Diu is a small island off the coast of India, although a bridge now connects the island to the mainland. It has an interesting history – and at one point was occupied by the Portuguese (Note from Brock: Diu was very recently taken back in a violent battle with Portuguese soldiers in 1971). The influences are obvious – it does look and feel very much like Portugal.

The great thing is – it's really relaxed – with reasonable beaches, and plenty of things to see around the island...

...and coming here has been one of the highlights of my trip. We spent a total of 9 days here – and they've been some of the best in the last 10 months. Not just because of the place – but because of the people I've spent the time with...

It was quite late when we arrived, and it looked like everything was shut – but after having found a place to stay in the roof of an old church – we eventually found a little restaurant that was still open and had amazing food.

The inside of the church – the rooms we stayed in were in the roof of the building:

And me – on the roof top terrace outside our rooms:

Thanks to Jo for the pic...

The next day we hired scooters and set off to explore The Island. After taking a wrong turn, we ended up at a small Hindu temple built into the sea cliff, with amazing carvings and with water running in to wash over them:

Here's a video of us driving away from the temple – ending with the moment when I realized you can't brake, go round corners AND video at the same time (click to view - go on - do it - you know you want to :-):

The old prison:

Thanks to Brock for the pic...

View from the main fort:

Thanks to Brock for this pic...

Cruising the island:

Portuguese church:

At the other end of the island is a small village where the fishing boats all leave from. We ended up cruising out there three or four times while we were in Dui as there was always something different to see, and a really great beach with amazing waves to play in on the way there and back :-)

Fishing boat:

Men loading ice ready for the days catch:

Thanks to Brock for this pic...

Fishing boats:

...and on the way back to Diu town:

Most mornings we got up fairly early and cruised out on the bikes to one of the beaches 20 minutes away for a coffee and a walk on the beach. On one of our morning runs out on the bike, Christine and I decided to take a detour on a little interesting looking road I'd spotted, and we ended up climbing up a water tower. Here's Christine at the top:

And the view from the top – with Portuguese church in the distance:

One of the really amazing things about Diu is the food – especially the seafood. For 9 pounds you can get a huge seafood platter for two, including lobster, grilled king prawn's, Calamari, and salad. Add in a bottle of wine for just over six pounds and you can eat like royalty – and we did :-)

Jo and one of the amazing seafood platters:

There was also a major festival on while we were there – which included what can only be described as line dancing in a huge circle. We never did find out what the festival was about, but we did end up going a few times, and one night went and spent a few hours dancing with the locals.

Video of the dancing (click the picture to see the video):

And the rest of the time...well...it went something like this:

Swimming in the sea. Fish and chips on the beach. Motorbike riding. The best seafood in the world. Beer on the beach. We might have been slightly...crazy motorbike riding in the middle of the night. Almost driving off a one metre drop in the rush to buy munchies. Getting Jo's rucksack and a dog mixed up – and only realizing when I picked it up and it tried to bite me. Thanks Klaus for the sunnies. Wine on the beach. Swimming in the sea. Sari shopping. Motorbike riding. Missing the best sunset of the week because we were air guitaring – but not really caring either way. Walking on the beach. Barbara Walters (kill, kill). Three large packets of crisps, four chocolate bars, two packets of biscuits...and chocolate ice-cream. Salsa dancing on the roof. Riding Matt Damon...hard. Confronting 50 Indian men on the beach. Olives, cheese, bread, and wine at the beach. Swimming in the sea. Champagne on the beach. Motorbike riding. Would you rather...no, no, no...Cigar and beers at sunset. Swimming in the sea...

...you get the picture...fun times.

And some final pictures:

Disco dancing at the world's worst disco: Brock, Klaus, Me, and Christine:

Thanks to Jo for the pic...

Er...me:

Rockin' out on the rocks:

Thanks to Jo for the pic...

Cigars and beer at sunset: Klaus, Brock, Me, Christine, and Jo:

Thanks to Jo for the pic...

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This week's special guest editor: Brock Wilks...sponsored by Nutella...

The Road To Diu

2009-11-05T11:43:00.003Z

We spent a few more days in Delhi, and I still didn't feel 100%. I was trying to work out whether it was time to call it a day and head home...

Brock was planning to head out to Gujerat to see where Ghandi had been born and had lived, and then to head to a small island for some beach time. The more he talked about it, the more I thought that it sounded like fun. And as I was due to meet Lindon and Sam in Chennai a few weeks later I thought that I'd go to Diu, head to Chennai for a week, and then fly back with them.

So the three of us set off to Old Delhi train station – glad to be getting out of the city.

The next few days were full on crazy travelling days – total fun...

Brock, Jo, and me - enjoying some “local food” on the train:

Thanks to Brock for the photo...

From Delhi we caught the night train to Ahmedabad leaving at 3pm and arriving at 6:30am, where we jumped straight on another train to get to Rajkot to see where Ghandi lived.

View out of the train on the way to Ahmedabad:

As soon as we arrived, we left our bags at the left luggage in the station and headed out to see where Ghandi had lived. His house is now a museum, with a display on his life. Here's the outside:

Thanks to Brock for the photo...

And the main street of Rajkot:

Thanks to Brock for the photo...

After a good look around and some food we headed back to the station to get on another night train to Porbander. Luckily – because 3AC class was booked up and one of us had a 2AC ticket, we all got a free upgrade to 2AC - which was good – because (while it was frickin' freezin') it did mean a more comfortable bed, and I got a really great night's sleep.

Porbander is the place where Ghandi was born – and you can go into his house and see the spot where he popped out into the world. It's now marked with a swastika - “x” marks the spot – as it were.

Part of the building where Ghandi was born:

The sign says it all:

You're not allowed to take photos of this:

...but this is the spot where Ghandi was born in 1869.

And this is a picture of one of the four Portuguese arches that make up the main square of Porbander:

And then it was back to the bus station to get a bus to Veraval, for the train journey to Dawal, and an autorickshaw to Diu.

Just one of the many crazy things we got up to to pass the time while waiting for trains :-)

Thanks to Brock for this pic...

It was a really full on few days – but a real privilege to see where Ghandi was born and had lived – and to learn more about a man who demonstrated that non-violence works – particularly in the face of a regime that seemed intent on using violence and brutality to control it's subjects.

Dying In Delhi...

2009-11-03T11:15:00.003Z

I felt really tired when we got to Delhi – but put it down to the travel.

Gabe was heading home, so we headed out to the airport...it was sad to have to say goodbye – but all good things have to come to an end :-(

The next day we decided to take an easy day, as none of us was feeling that great. After looking around Connaught Place we decided to buy some “supplies” and have a picnic in the park. It was really great hanging out, with a picnic of Olive and Sun Dried Tomato Foccacia, tomatoes, cake, and a really good bottle of Indian red wine.

Picnicking in the park at Connaught Place:

The night sky in Delhi:

The next day, we all felt even worse than the day before – but Brock and I decided to head out for the day and see the place where Ghandi was assassinated...

...but the Auto-rickshaw driver took us to the wrong place - so we ended up seeing where he had been cremated instead. It's an amazingly green and beautiful park now – not at all what I'd imagined Delhi would be like.

The site Ghandi was cremated:

As we were near the Fort, we made our way there and had a look around.

The Red Fort in Delhi:

Intricate stone work:

The next day we all felt really sick. Not only did we all have really bad flu symptoms – but I'd started with dysentery – not pleasant.

We suspected that we might have swine flu – as it felt like everyone in Delhi had flu and we'd seen a poster with the symptoms on and could tick them all off. Hygiene is not a priority here, and coughing over food doesn't really seem to be a problem, so it's easy to see why these things spread so quickly.

So we headed out to the hospital and I got some anti-biotics for the dysentery. It turns out the swine flu clinic was the other side of town, so we headed out that way and ended up being prescribed the Indian version of Tamiflu, and Jo and Brock were given a test for Swine Flu.

We got back to the hotel and...things seemed to get a lot worse. I felt zoned out all of the time, and spent most of the time sleeping or running to the bathroom. Brock gave his doctor a call to see what he thought, and he recommended a trip back to the hospital.

So we headed back to the hospital, and the doctor said I had gasto-enteritis and needed to stay in for a few days to get things sorted out. I've seen a few articles that say that Doctor's in Delhi have a reputation for doing as much as they can for foreign patients in an attempt to get more money from them. And whether that was what happened in my case I'm not really sure – but it certainly felt like it.

It took me five hours of constant negotiation with the hospital before I could finally get treated – because the hospital seemed reluctant to say what they were going to do and how much it was likely to cost.

The Travel Insurance company were really helpful and tried there best to help out. But even so – it felt like hard work.

Finally I was taken to a bed, hooked up to a drip and ended up being stuck there for three days being given loads of medicines – including some asthma stuff which I didn't need and ended up refusing to take. But thanks to Jo and Brock for the magazines and visits.

After three days I was itching to get out of the place even though I still wasn't 100%...and all I kept thinking was – maybe it was time to go home.

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On a personal note – I'd really like to thank Jo and Brock for looking after me in Delhi – especially for bringing me “supplies”. It would have been a much worse experience if I'd been on my own.

And if they'd not been there, I'd have ended up flying home...and would have missed out on some of the best times on my trip.

Srinagar

2009-10-31T05:28:00.002Z

The road to Srinagar was pretty wild. Another all night drive on narrow dirt roads with massive drop offs to the valley below.

Thankfully the jeep was really good and as ever – the company was great (thanks guys :-)

One of the main reasons people come to Srinagar is to stay on a house boat – a left over from the Empire days, when Brits weren't allowed to own land. So they built houseboats and lived on the lakes. They've mostly all been converted into hotels – although tourism has dropped significantly in this area given the stand off between India and Pakistan and the ongoing violence related to the disputed area of Kashmir.

Sadly the houseboats also have a reputation for scamming tourists – with people being given cheap rooms, but being charged ridiculous amounts for everything else – often without being told first.

We managed to find a pretty good place to stay – but we did get scammed on a few things. So we really kicked up a fuss and managed to work our way out of having to pay a huge bill :-)

Inside the houseboat:

The moon rising over Kashmir:

Nagin Lake:

And the mountains in the background:

It was Jo's birthday so we had a party with coffee and cake, and in the evening went for a really great night out - I won't mention the “urban skiing”...but it was fun

:-)

Thanks to Brock for this photo...

Jo and Gabe were heading back to Delhi so they could go to Agra – so after the run out to the airport, Brock and I headed back into town to check out the sights.

The real highlight was the Jama mosque – which is one of the biggest in the world – and is one of the most unusual mosques I've been to, given that it was built in square formation around an inner courtyard.

We also ended up walking around town – here's some shots of Srinagar Old Town:

Looking across the river:

Medieval Graveyard:

To save a weeks travel back to Delhi – we managed to book some ridiculously cheap tickets from Srinagar – so decided to fly. Here's a pic from out of the plane window:

Leh - Part 6

2009-10-30T06:10:00.002Z

Today was one of the best days of my trip – a perfect day on the road.

Having spent the day before on the bikes – Brock and I decided to do a full day road trip.

So we rented two Royal Enfield Thunderbirds and set off early in morning on the road to Srinagar. Our bikes at one of the stops along the way:

After getting out of town, the road goes through some amazing scenery, along tiny switch back turns as the road winds through the mountains, and then across wide open plains with mountains on either side.

The road is mainly black top – but in places, particularly where construction work is going on, it can get very muddy, and is full of potholes.

The other challenge is avoiding the large lorries that run up and down the route from Leh to Srinagar.

On the way we stopped at a Sikh temple – where Guru Nanak is said to have visited, and where there is an imprint of his back on the rock on which he leaned.

Me at the top of the hill top shrine:

Further down the road it started to rain, and so we pulled the bikes off the road and sheltered under a large prayer wheel. We were joking that if we turned the wheel it would stop raining, and when we gave the wheel a spin – it started to brighten up straight away.

Slightly surprised by this, we gave it another spin, and as soon as it had turned the rain eased off. So we decided to give it another try for a laugh, and when the wheel had made a full turn (amazingly) the rain stopped and we jumped back on the bikes and set off again.

Brock and the prayer wheel:

On the road:

Our destination was Alchi Monastery, which has amazing carvings and even more intricate paintings that are hundreds of years old – for me – they were easily as good as the Magao Caves in China and it was a real find.

Traditional Tibetan style house at Alchi:

Turning wheels at Alchi Monastery:

Some of the carvings at the monastery:

Photos aren't allowed inside the main temples – but here's one picture from one of the buildings outside the main temple area:

After a good lunch at the local bakery, we jumped back on the bikes and headed back to Leh.

It was even better going back – powering down through the tight turns and racing along the long straights. The wind had really got up by this point and it was really cold – and I had to stop and put on a rain jacket to try and keep the chill out.

Brock's clutch cable snapped when we were just pulling out of Alchi onto the main road – so he had to drive all the way back making clutch-less gear changes.

The road back to Leh:

By the time we got back we were really cold – but nothing a coffee and a chocolate donut couldn't solve – followed by dinner with Gabe and Jo.

Perfect...

Leh - Part 5

2009-10-29T04:35:00.004Z

I've always wanted to be able to ride a manual motorbike – and having talked endlessly with people about it it's something I've just never got round to.

But in Leh there are all these really cool Royal Enfield's and I was really itching to have a go. Luckily we bumped into an Australian who'd been given lessons by one of the guys in town – so we headed straight out to book ourselves lessons.

After a short ride out of town to a quite stretch of road, we were shown the basiscs, and then spent a few hours motoring up and down learning before heading off to one of the monasteries for a road trip.

Brock on a Royal Enfield Thunderbird 350:

And my bike:

Sakti Monastery – our destination on the road trip in the afternoon:

Born to be wild: Jo, me, Gabe, and Brock:

Monastery on the road back to Leh:

Brock, on the road to Leh:

Leh - Part 4

2009-10-17T10:10:00.002+01:00

It's Joshua's Birthday today (yes - I really am running that far behind :-), and I was determined to be back in the early evening so that I could phone home.

So after a late breakfast we set off to find Shakti Monastery. What we didn't realize is there's very limited transport there and that it's in the middle of know where – so it took us a while to get there.

We sat for more than an hour in the monastery listening to the monk's chanting and then headed off to look around.

View of the valley near Shakti:

Boy monks:

Carving at the temple:

Looking into the inner courtyard:

View from the top:

After a few hours, and some food, we tried to head back to town – but were told the last bus would be in an hour. I was already running late, and so we headed off on foot just in case we could make it to the main road before the bus came.

Wind Horse on the way back from Shakti Monastery:

Luckily after 30 minutes a man gave us a lift the rest of the way to the main road – from which it was another 45 minutes on the bus back into town.

While I was able to call home – Joshua's party was in full swing and after a quick chat with a few people we headed out for dinner.

Leh - Part 3

2009-10-16T07:20:00.002+01:00

One of the really amazing things about Leh is that there's an incredible amount to see in the outlying villages. And while transport can be a bit sparse at times, it's possible to get to most of the places of interest.

So armed with the pages from the Lonely Planet, and some good recommendations from the locals we headed out to find Thiksey Monastery.

It's an impressive sight – set on the top of an outcrop of rock at one edge of the Leh valley:

Inside there's loads of temples and we spent a good few hours wandering around.

Buddhist texts in one of the temples:

The view from the roof:

“200 dollars for Jousting Sticks. Tell 'im he's dreamin'”:

The view from the roof – looking back towards Leh:

One of the tiny monasteries inside the main complex:

Mandala wall painting:

Buddhist Images:

The Library:

Protector wall painting:

Giant Buddha – this one is three stories high – and the upstairs room has a hole in the floor so it can fit:

From there, we headed to Shey Fort. We couldn't see most of it because it was closed for renovations – but we were able to sit for almost an hour listening to the monks chanting in one of the temples.

View from Shey Fort looking back to Thiksey which can just be seen on the left:

The ruins of the old fort:

Brock – enjoying the view:

Leh - Part 2

2009-10-14T08:07:00.002+01:00

Another easy day, followed by a trip to see Leh Palace and the monastery which sit in imposing position on the hillside above Leh.

It's a fair climb to the top – but the views and chance to wander through these ancient buildings is definitely worth it.

On the way to the fort:

Leh Palace was built in the 17th century and was modeled on the Potala Palace in Lhasa. It's was abandoned in the mid 19th Century, and while the state of the building deteriorated it's currently being restored.

Leh – from Leh Fort:

Gabe, Jo, Me, and Brock enjoying the view:

The library – jam packed full of Buddhist texts:

Me – enjoying the view:

From the fort we headed up to the Gon-Khang Monastery (Temple Of The Guardian Divinities - cool name :-) at the top of the hill.

Skydiving – Leh style:

Painting inside the monastery:

Leh - Part 1

2009-10-05T13:12:00.003+01:00

Leh...

...turned out to be amazing. It's the longest I've stayed anywhere on my entire trip – second only to my time in Brisbane with Jenny and Dave.

But the journey to get there is a total nightmare. The jeep leaves at 2am from Manali and arrives at 10pm the following night. The road is rough, bumpy, and has sheer vertical drops to the valley below. If a jeep was to go off the road - everyone would be killed.

A few pics from the route – India's Karakoram Highway:

Me – at the top of one of the passes:

The road to Leh:

And to make it worse – the same guy drove the entire way. He looked terrible at the end – and had to keep wiping his eyes which kept running all the time.

Thankfully I met up with Gabe, Jo, and Brock, and we passed the time chatting and taking photos on the way.

It was a huge relief to finally arrive...

The next day we didn't really do that much – just hung out to recover from the journey and start the process of acclimatizing to the 3800 meter elevation.

Someone told us that His Holiness the Dalai Lama was teaching near the town and that the next day would be the last day of the event.

So at 5am we got up and headed out to find the field where the teaching was being given.

It's estimated that between 20,000 to 30,000 were in attendance – and it was – a totally unique and privileged experience.

Waiting for His Holiness to arrive:

Monk's gathering:

The teachings are given in Tibetan and translated into Ladakhi. For the foreigners: a simultaneous English translation is also given - which luckily meant we were all sat near the front.

After waiting for an hour and a half – His Holiness the Dalai Lama arrived, and while he prepared himself to speak Tibetan monks debated.

One thing that is immediately obvious about His Holiness is that he is a very unassuming man – and does nothing to draw attention to himself. There's absolutely none of the rock star syndrome displayed by so many of today's leaders. He arrives – does what he needs to do - and then goes. His humility is obvious, and adds to the power of his message.

His Holiness arrives – minimal fuss – and no attention seeking:

For anyone who's interested – here's a summary of his teaching:

1) Tibetan Buddhism has something to offer the world and other religions. While science is trying to understand the mind, the teachings of Tibetan Buddhism have a great deal to say about the mind, and finding a place of inner happiness and peace.

Because of this, His Holiness believes that Tibetans should gain a good western education so that they don't fall behind and can share their own teachings with the world.

2) There are many forces which are working against Tibetan Buddhism in the world. And because of this it's important to study and understand the teachings of Buddhism.

His Holiness also repeated his much repeated teaching that those in western countries should not convert to Buddhism, but should remain with the religious traditions of their own geography. This is not only because of the familiarity with the teaching, but because these religions have the infrastructure to provide each person with the support they need.

3) It's important to retain purity within Buddhism. Just because someone wears a Buddhist monks robe doesn't make them good. It's important for people to remain pure to the teachings they've received. Modernization is all fair and well – but shouldn't be an excuse to replace core teachings with modern thinking.

4) To remain pure one must let the Dharma (Buddhist religious teachings) become a part of each person, letting it become like a light that shines from within.

5) His Holiness also talked about the various strands and traditions of Tibetan Buddhism and taught that while it was important to remain within the tradition one had received, it was extremely important to understand and have an appreciation for the other traditions and to learn from them. They were, he said, like strands in a cord.

This was followed by a teaching on the tri-partite nature of humanity, and the existence of a distinct self which is separate from the body and mind. Luckily – I'd studied this as part of my degree so it was interesting to hear him speak about this from a Buddhist perspective.

As it was the last day of the teachings, the event ended with an initiation for some of the monks. The monks chanted for a while, and then the ceremony took place, which was concluded with a led meditation by His Holiness. It was great to have some time out to think – and during the meditation I came to the conclusion on something I'd been spending a lot of time thinking about...

His Holiness The Dalai Lama concluding the teachings:

It was one of the absolute highlights of my trip, and a real privilege to be able to listen to such profound and yet practical teaching.

The crowd leaving the field – it looks and feels so much like Tibet – it's easy to wonder which side of the Himalayas your actually on:

Manali

2009-10-05T13:09:00.001+01:00

I was a bit disappointed by Manali. It's a bit of a backpackers ghetto – particularly Old Manali which is entirely geared up for backpackers – it feels very soulless.

If I was going to come here again I'd stay in Vishkech on the other side of the valley which feels a bit more laid back and fun and has hot springs.

One real highlight was looking around the Tibetan Gompa's, and at one of them I got chatting to a Tibetan and ended up playing cannon ball with him – a bit like pool crossed with air hockey.

The other thing worth doing is going to see the Hindu Temple dedicated to Manu. Legend has it that Manu was warned by God that the world was going to be flooded because people were no longer following what they knew to be right. So Manu built a boat and collected all of the animals. When the flood subsided he landed in Manali and meditated at this spot.

The front door of the temple:

Sculpture in the temple:

When I got back to town I was lucky enough to see a Hindu celebration. Here's a short video:

With nothing else to do I booked a jeep ticket to Leh...it was going to turn out to be a really great decision...

Shimla

2009-09-17T14:25:00.001+01:00

Shimla is an easy going and relaxed place. It's popular with Indian's and while there's not much to see in terms of tourist sites, it's a great place to hang out for a few days.

It feels very British – which is no surprise - as this is where the British colonizers would come when things got too hot in Delhi.

It's remarkable to think that at one point in time, one fifth of the world's population was ruled from this small unassuming town. Unfortunately the British Empire didn't do such a great job. During this period, it presided over one of the worst ever famines in world history, and implemented partition in such a way that 1 million people died.

As if to balance this up, Shimla was the home of Allan Octavian Hume who described the British regime as having an "invariable disregard, if not actual contempt for the opinions and feelings of our subjects".

In response to this, he set up the Indian National Congress which would eventually lead to India's independence.

The town hall – hammer house of horror style Gothic building:

And at night:

Streets of the old town:

I was lucky enough to stay in a building built during the period of colonization which has now been turned into a hotel – it reminded me of some of the early buildings in Christchurch New Zealand:

And inside:

One trip worth doing is the long walk up the very steep hill to see the Hindu Temple dedicated to Hanuman the monkey god avatar. People come here to feed the monkey's who can be very aggressive – and so armed with my fold-out umbrella I set off.

I was glad to be “armed” because at one point I had to fight off a monkey who was trying to steal my bag!

Hold on to y'r Goggles:

And here's why – one mean monkey:

I don't want to be your little research monkey boy:

Here's a pic of the main temple at the top of the hill:

Carving at the temple:

I ended up spending a while sitting in the temple watching people come to worship and make offerings, and ended up getting a tikka from the priest at the temple. Me with temple in the background:

Walking down the hill I forgot that I had the tikka and couldn't understand why people kept staring. When I got back to the hotel and looked in the mirror I discovered that at some point I'd rubbed my forehead and had orange all over my face :-)

I also remember Michael Palin visiting the small theatre here, and was a little disappointed to find there was nothing on. Undeterred I walked into the theatre and by some fluke found myself on the stage. Just as I was about to let rip with my best Shakespearean acting someone turned the lights out and so I had to make my way out in the dark.

And finally...

A police man in Shimla:

Where else could you book your very own Emo AND get it delivered electronically :-)

The Road To Shimla...

2009-09-15T13:31:00.003+01:00

OK – I'll admit it: I'm following Michael Palin's route from his Himalaya series. One of the highlights I remember was the toy train journey from Chandigargh to Shimla.

It's an incredible feat of engineering, given the difficulty of the terrain. To get from Kalka to Shimla there are 102 tunnels and 988 bridges, and the line has been recognized as a World Heritage Site.

The train to Shimla:

Just one of the 102 tunnels:

Waiting at the station:

And the engine at one of the stations on route:

Chandigarh

2009-09-15T13:26:00.002+01:00

I'd really enjoyed Mcleod-Ganj – but decided it was time to head off. After a long ten hour bus journey I finally arrived in Chandigarh and got a place to stay.

It's a unique place in that it was built in the 50's and 60's as a planned city. The streets are wide and tree lined, built in grids – each with a sector number – making it easy to get around. There's a main shopping street where everyone hangs out, and it's fun to spend an hour or so people watching. At one end of the city there's the administrative area with government buildings, and each sector is more or less self contained with restaurants, business, and shops.

While it sounds impressive it's a bit of a let down as everything is so obviously built during a period in history which now looks very dated.

The main administrative building:

The high court:

Sculpture in the grounds of the government complex:

The main park:

A typical sign in India with over the top English explanation:

The other "must do" is a visit to Ned Chand's rock garden. It's a large landscaped garden, built entirely from industrial waste – most of it produced when the city was being built.

It's very popular with Indian families, and it's nice for an hour or two's wander around:

The wishing well:

Just some of the hundreds of hand made figures:

I also spotted this sign - part of the global conspiracy to find The Island :-)

Mcleod-Ganj

2009-09-05T08:13:00.002+01:00

When the Chinese Government invaded Tibet and His Holiness the Dalai Lama was forced to leave, he made his way over the Himalayas to India and settled in the tiny village of Mcleod-Ganj. As a result, what would have been nothing more than an ordinary village became one of the top destinations on the Indian backpacker circuit.

It is, a backpackers town. The main streets are full of gift shops, restaurants, hotels, travel agents, and coffee shops. But it feels very Tibetan, and has a great laid back feel about it.

After crashing, I woke up the next day and headed for breakfast – and ran into Annie from America, and Vikki and Kate from London. For the next three days we met somewhere for breakfast, and again for dinner to catch up on the things we'd done during the day.

Mcleod Ganj, appearing out of the mist:

The main draw here is the temple complex - it's a bit of a surprise – because it feels very modern – although it's obviously a Tibetan temple. But it feels new – almost temporary.

The main courtyard of the temple:

Wall painting at the temple:

While the world waits for Tibet to be freed – monks continue to debate, keeping their traditions alive:

Yak butter lamps at the temple:

Sadly – there's another side to Mcleod-Ganj. There are still political refugees arriving here, forced to cross the Himalayas in secret – on foot – through dangerous mountain passes – often in the worst possible of weathers.

Before last year's uprising, between two and three thousand Tibetans a year would be forced to flee the persecution and torture in occupied Tibet.

This year - only 500 have made it so far.

The Chinese Government are now actively trying to stop the flow of refugees who arrive in free India and share their story with the world.

Each week, an organsisation in Mcleod invites refuges to share their story. The week I was there, the refugee was (in his own words) a simple, illiterate farmer, who was forced to flee China after being involved in last year's uprising.

Having never had any interest in political action, he decided that he couldn't remain silent when he saw a 70 year old being beaten, arrested, and taken to prison for eight months simply for having a picture of His Holiness the Dalai Lama in his home.

After making it to Lhasa, and witnessing the army opening fire on a group of monks and nuns, the farmer rushed to help one of them and was himself shot.

Unable to go to a hospital for fear of arrest, he was forced to cross the Himalayas and become a political exile. More than a year on, and he is still suffering medical complications from the bullet wound and may never be able to use his left arm properly again.

The one thing that really stuck in my mind about the evening was how, when asked, the farmer said he held nothing against the Chinese people. He actually feels that it's all Chinese people who are being oppressed – not just the Tibetans.

When it comes to evidence against the Chinese Government and the human rights abuses being carried out in Tibet – there's plenty here. It's pretty shocking to see and here of some of the horrifically dehumanizing things being carried out routinely in China.

But Tibetans still hold out hope for liberation - and just down the hill from Mcleod is the complex of the Tibetan Government in Exile. It's like a small country all wrapped up into a tiny village. There's everything you'd need here to run a country: a parliament, and various departments including finance and health.

Hopefully one day the exiles will be able to return home.

----------

And now for something completely different...

I decided to grow a beard in Pakistan – here's a pic the day before I went and had a shave:

Normal service has now been resumed in the facial hair department :-)

The Road To Mcleod-Ganj

2009-09-05T07:41:00.003+01:00

My next stop was Mcleod-Ganj – the home of His Holiness the Dalai Lama, and the Tibetan Government in Exile.

Having seen the toy train journey Michael Palin took from Amritsar to get there, I decided to head off to the train station to make for Pathankot to catch the toy train to Kangra.

The train is popular with locals, and it was packed when I finally managed to squeeze myself on. Luckily – I was able to get a window seat for the trip.

The carriages are so full that people have to hang out of the doors:

India or England:

And here's one that looks like the train journey along the coast of the Lake District:

The Lonely Planet says that the journey takes two and a half hours – but actually - it takes more than five, and with no food all day I was glad to get to Kangra.

Here's a picture of the view from the station at Kangra:

I finally arrived in the early evening, and walked down towards Kangra. I'd been thinking of staying here for a day or so, but when I saw the sign for Dharamsala jumped on the bus for the one hour ride.

After eating some of the best veg momo's (Tibetan Steamed Dumplings) at Dharamsala, I jumped on the bus to head to Mcleod-Ganj...

Pakistan - India Border Crossing

2009-08-29T13:52:00.004+01:00

Having seen the Pakistan - India Border Crossing ceremony on Michael Palin's excellent Himalaya series, it was something I was really looking forward to seeing.

Rather than mess around on the bus – I decided to go by share jeep, and it turned out to be an interesting experience. Sharing the jeep with me were four sisters, their grand father, and the husband of one of the sisters. They quickly adopted me, and we ended up chatting during the one hour journey to the border.

We arrive 30 minutes early, and the stands are already packed. On the Indian side, men and woman are in the road dancing away to India style dance music. People are shouting, clapping, whistling, and the warm up guy doesn't have much to do to get the crowd going.

Soldiers getting ready for the ceremony, and the warm up guy on the left:

Packed stands at the border crossing – Pakistan is on the other side of the big gate:

In a few days time – India will be sixty years old – and people are hear to celebrate. The crowd getting worked up on the Indian side of the border - click to watch:

Looking over to the Pakistan side – it looks subdued – the seating obviously segregated: women on one side of the road – men on the other.

While on the Indian side – people are going crazy. And then the ceremony begins, and soldiers march around in the most comical way...click to watch the video:

There are two sides to the border crossing (pun not intended :-).

On the one side – it's fun - Monty Python's Ministry Of Silly Walks, crossed with the changing of the guards. On the other side – the ceremony shows the split between these two countries.

I hear some men shouting something about Pakistan, and when I inquire I'm told they are shouting “down with Pakistan”. When I looked surprised the man I asked responds: “well we are at war with them”.

And it really does feel as if there's something behind the aggressive posturing. It really does look like there's no love lost between the soldiers on each side.

And the border ceremony throws up the differences between these two neighbors. In India – women are free to dance in the street. In Pakistan – they are separated by a road from the men – and there's no dancing.

I did wonder whether it was my imagination that things looked subdued on the Pakistan side. But when I've talked to other travelers – they all had the same impression.

One other rather bizarre observation: on the Pakistan side the wind was blowing, making the flags flap in the wind; on the Indian side there wasn't even the slightest hint of a breeze.

Click this link for Michael Palin's overview of the ceremony from the Pakistan side.

From the ceremony we headed back to town - but rather than head back to the drop off point, the family requested that we go to the Silver Temple – the Hindu equivalent of the Golden Temple.

Getting ready to head back into town:

And I was so glad when they took me along with them. I'd already been there in the afternoon and felt like an observer – while in the evening I felt more like a participant as they took me around the temple.

Silver work in the Silver Temple:

Rock and Roll Guitar avatar:

While I'd only gone to the middle bit in the afternoon – they took me round the full thing. Half of the family were Sikh, while the other half were Christian – so it was an amazing experience following them around a Hindu temple.

The Silver Temple – taken during my afternoon visit:

And after going around the temple, we stopped in the dining room and had dhal and chapati – just like with the Golden Temple the food is free – with donation boxes on the way out.

It was a really great trip out – thanks to the kind family who adopted me for the evening.

Amritsar - Part 2

2009-08-27T12:00:00.002+01:00

Perhaps one of the strangest experiences I've had in a temple so far is the visit to the Mata temple in Amritsar.

It's a Hindu temple in memory of Mata Lal Devi Ji who is revered for her spirituality – although it wasn't immediately obvious why :-)

After leaving my shoes with the shoe keeper and walking through the feet cleaning pool, I follow the crowd into the main temple. From there I'm ushered up some stairs and begin to follow the corridor: up stairs – along balconies – past shrines.

Eventually after climbing a small flight of stairs, the path is obstructed by what can only be described as what looks like the entrance to a small cave.

After ducking down and crawling through on all fours, the roof opens up again, and I follow the corridor along another balcony and another flight of stairs.

Even stranger still, after turning a corner the way is blocked – this time requiring everyone to clamber over a three foot obstacle. On the other side – is a narrow “cave” with ankle deep water and shrines on the walls.

On the other side, holy men are handing out what looks like sweets. The way continues through kitsch looking rooms with tiny mirror tiles and even more shrines. Eventually after walking down a flight of stairs everyone is returned to main temple.

A rather bizarre experience – but kind of fun – a bit like a Hindu Fun House at the fare. The children of the family I followed around it certainly had a lot of fun.

Unfortunatley I forgot to take any pictures - it was that strange I got distracted just walking around...

:-)

I also visited the Silver Temple – but I'll leave that for next time...

Amritsar - Part 1

2009-08-25T12:59:00.002+01:00

Amritsar is a great city – with lots to see and a really great laid back vibe. It's the home of the famous Golden Temple – the most holy of Sikh Temples.

The Sikhs are incredibly inclusive and welcoming – and provide free accommodation and food for anyone who visits the temple – regardless of religion or ethnicity. They have donation boxes – but no one asks.

Having made my way to the Golden Temple I find the building in which people are housed and find that Westerners are all put in what is effectively a large single dorm room crammed full of beds. Luckily for me, someone is just leaving one of the smaller side rooms that has only three beds in, and I get assigned my home for the next three days.

It's basic – but serviceable.

Clothes drying in the courtyard of the dormitory building:

I end up feeling slightly guilty staying here - while I'm sleeping on a reasonably comfortable bed with a fan – there are men and woman who must be in there 80's sleeping on the floor in the courtyard outside. It doesn't feel right somehow...

After dropping off my bag, I decided to head straight out to see the temple. I've heard a few people say it's very under-whelming – but I was really impressed by it. It's clearly a religious site, which includes everything that goes with that – but it feels very relaxed – people are clearly enjoying themselves as they walk around the large pool chatting away.

The Golden Temple:

After a quick meal – I head back in the evening to see the temple at night. It's an impressive sight – and given that it's fairly quite – I take the opportunity to cross the causeway into the small temple in the centre of the pool.

A video – taken at night – complete with singing and people chatting in the background (click to view):

I join the queue to cross the causeway, and join the hundreds of pilgrims – some singing along with the music, others waiting in silence as we shuffle ever closer to the temple. There's none of the pushing that a queue in India would usually entail.

There's a solemn religious fervor – but it all feels very relaxed as we near the door that leads into the small building.

Inside is a small room where a band is playing music and singing words from the Guru Granth Sahib: the Sikhs Holy Book. People linger – respectful of the place and each other. I'm surprised at how small the room is - just enough room to accommodate the band, and fifty or so worshipers.

Walking out of the main room towards the back of the small temple people are drinking the water from the pool - Amritsar means “The Pool Of The Nectar Of Immortality”.

Upstairs – people are sitting on the floor in a beautifully ornate small room reading the Guru Granth Sahib.

As I leave – at the end of the causeway – a man is handing out Kara Parshad – a special food offering given to everyone who visits the temple. Not wanting to intrude I try and sneak out – but the man calls me over and shows me how to receive the Parshad.

The Golden Temple – the large building behind is used to store the original copy of the Guru Granth Sahib:

The white marble entrance into the complex:

And a close up of the clock tower:

It's certainly a memorable experience.

After a rather good coffee and a wander around I head to the communal dining room for lunch – where I discovered that there actually is such a thing as a free lunch.

I queued up with the rest of the people and take a metal tray, spoon, and cup, and follow the crowd upstairs to the second of the two large dining halls.

Everyone sits in rows on the floor, and men walk around with large metal buckets filled with Dhal , vegetable curry, or rice using huge ladles to fill the plates. Steaming hot chappati are handed out and everyone digs in. Seconds are readily given out, and I have to stop my plate from being continually topped up. After the dhal is gone a man comes around handing out sweet rice.

As we eat upstairs the downstairs dining room is being prepared for the next round. The scale and organization is impressive - the dining hall feeds up to 40,000 people every single day, and the kitchen is run on an industrial scale with the largest pots of curry I've ever seen.

Once everyone has eaten, we stream out and head down to the washing up area. Plates, spoons, and cups are handed to a gang of men who sort them and then send them down the line to where they are washed. As I walk out – pausing to wash my hands at the large bank of taps – people are chopping garlic and onions for the next round of diners.

The professional approach and organization is impressive. Even late at night people are being fed here. And no one asks for a single Rupee, although there are donation boxes. As I discovered, the “menu” changes every day – and the food (while simple) is nutritious and tasty.

The Road To India

2009-08-24T12:55:00.000+01:00

Having had a reasonably late start, I set off to make the four hour trip across the border into India.

Just like every other border – the changes are quickly obvious. Pakistan seems brown – while just across the line in India everything looks green. I still can't work out why things always change at borders – or why things are suddenly different just because someone draws a line on a piece of paper. Nine months on, and a dozen borders crossed and I still don't have an answer.

The border itself is quiet, with minimal formalities – although the X-Ray scans on the way out of Pakistan seemed a bit excessive. I did end up chatting with the guy who did the scans and he let me look at the monitor which showed a picture of just about everything I own (OK – maybe not quite – but that's how it feels).

On the Indian side the border guard wants to know what drugs, bombs, and guns I've got with me. The banter continues as we go through the formalities and I get stamped into India.

As you walk through the actual border area there are stands where the border ceremony is held – of which more later. But with four hours until it started I decided to head straight to Amritsar and The Golden Temple...

Sufi Night - Lahore

2009-08-22T09:44:00.002+01:00

I headed back to Lahore on the bus feeling much better than I have in the last few weeks.

And my last night in Pakistan was going to be one I'll never forget - it was Thursday night – which means Sufi night.

In the afternoon we were taken to one of the mosques, and shown down into the basement where bands took it in turns to play Qawwali music. It was reasonably sedate, and didn't really match the band I'd seen at the Regale the week before. But still – it was an interesting experience, and while we watched the bands, people handed out sweets and showered the bands with money.

At 10pm we were taken by Autorickshaw to a Sufi shrine where the main Sufi night would take place. The night comprises of three men playing drums, while Sufi devotees dance to the rhythm with the aim of reaching Wajad: a feeling of oneness with God.

After about an hour of waiting in the scorching heat the drumming finally started – and it was really amazing stuff. Perhaps some of the best drumming I've ever seen.

We were really lucky – tonight the famous Saeen brothers were playing. The brothers are said to be perhaps the best traditional “dhol” drummers in the world. Remarkably – the eldest of the brothers was born deaf, and was taught to play the drums by his father who would play out rhythms on his son's back. Gonga Saeen now “hears” the drums by feeling the rhythm through his abdomen, where the large drum rests.

Sufi Drumming (click to view video):

The brothers are incredibly well respected amongst Sufi devotees – and are believed to have a special skill given to them by God. As if to underline this – while we are watching them play in the scorching heat and airless night, a cool wind suddenly starts blowing and the temperature drops by at least ten degrees in a matter of seconds.

A huge cheer erupts from the crowd. I later ask why the crowd cheered and was told that this is something that happens on a fairly regular basis – and that God causes the wind to come when the brothers are drumming and reach a state of Wajad.

The first three hours – while amazing – did seem almost like a performance. But then – like it does five or six times a day in Lahore – the electric went off and it went dark.

It was the best thing that could have happened.

Things went crazy. The rhythms took off in a new way, and suddenly – where only ten or so men had been dancing, the square was packed with people spinning and jumping around. And it seemed that everyone was starting to get into the driving groove. It was so infectious that it was impossible not to get involved.

And then – a guy we'd been chatting with earlier – a police man who is a Sufi devotee, pulled a few of us into the middle of the square.

It's dark, and there's these amazing driving rhythms, so loud you can't hear anything else, and people are really going for it. It was like being in the front of a really really lively rock concert (The Hives springs to mind for those who were there).

I'd like to say that I reached a state of Wajad – but some guy stamped on my foot after a few minutes and I decided it was better to leave it to the experts and enjoy it from the safety of the sidelines :-)

And it went on – all night.

When we finally left at 4:30am – I felt like I'd only been there for an hour or two at the most.

Here are some videos - click the picture to view the video:

At last – I find some people who dance worse than me :-)

Check out the guy in the green top – after spinning around for ages he manages to walk in a straight line:

Amazingly – even though people are spinning around – no one crashed into anyone else and there were no accidents.

Gonga Saeen – playing the most increidble drum rythms while spinning around at high speed:

Islamabad – Hospitals and Commissions

2009-08-22T09:28:00.002+01:00

I had to head back to Islamabad to pick up my passport from the Indian High Commission. But I don't really remember the bus journey back as I felt so lethargic...

I managed to make it back to the same hotel I'd stayed at before, and after a rather worrying additional symptom (I'll spare the details) realized that after a week of really bad pain and constant diarrhoea – whatever was causing me to be so ill wasn't going to go away on it's own. I'd also been feeling so nauseous the whole time that I'd hardly eaten anything in the last two days which wasn't helping.

When I woke the next day I felt even worse, so decided to head off to find a hospital.

I paid 5 rupees to see the doctor at one of the clinics – but it was what you'd imaging a third world hospital to be like. The place was packed with people, and the doctor was having three or four conversations all at the same time.

She told me to go to room five for some injections, but when I asked if they would also give me some antibiotics she just repeated the instructions.

Room 5 turned out to be something out of a horror movie.

There were people taking up every available space, and used medical equipment - including bandages with blood on and used needles - were lying around the place.

Despite feeling really ill, I decided that I needed a second opinion - the thought of injections in room 5 wasn't doing it for me.

So I headed to one of the other hospitals – and after paying 10 rupees I was shown in to see the doctor who sat and listened to my symptoms and then asked a load of questions.

His diagnosis was that I was really very sick and needed immediate medical treatment – including intravenous antibiotics. I wasn't sure whether to call the Travel Insurance company, but by this point I'd got past caring, so decided just to go along with whatever they suggested and sort out any problems later.

I was shown to a room with a bed and told to lie down while the nurse stuck a needle into a vein in my arm - and then for the rest of the afternoon I had two courses of intravenous antibiotics and a bag of re-hydration fluid.

During the afternoon the doctor came to check on me, and I was prescribed two courses of antibiotics. A few hours later the chief consultant appeared and reviewed everything and said I was going to be OK...

It took a few days before I started to feel well again – but the antibiotics worked more or less straight away and the pain had gone by the evening.

I think that I picked up Amebic Dysentery from some Chicken Kebabs in one of the best restaurants in the city. The second case of food poisoning in two weeks – all caused by contaminated meat – I can't wait to get to India and switch back to a vege diet :-)

The next day I negotiated my way into the “Embassy Enclave” (and yes – they made me promise to “call in” at the British Embassy. I can just imagine how that would go: "How are you old chap? Gin and Tonic? :-). After queing for a fair amount of time, I was finally allowed to approach window five, and collect my passport. They've given me a six month double entry visa...

So much for us living in “difficult times”...

Lahore - Part 2

2009-08-21T15:53:00.003+01:00

The next day I felt just about OK and decided to head out with Ziggy, who I'd met at the Regale, to see the Old Town. We made our way through the tiny streets and after about 30 minutes it started to rain. As the water level rose, the streets started to flood, and we ended up taking refuge in a shop front.

The owner insisted we sit down and even gave us free drinks – we ended up sitting for an hour watching life go by waiting for the rain to stop.

Street in Lahore:

Buildings on “food street”:

A woman watching the rain:

A horse waits it out, while the owner takes shelter:

This man was throwing water from a balcony, catching unsuspected passers by in a surprise deluge – much to the delight of the watching crowd:

Water logged street in Lahore:

We ended up wading through knee deep water, trying to find the Wazir Khan Mosque, stopping to ask locals the way as we made our way through the maze of the Old City.

Pics of the Wazir Khan Mosque:

Finally we ended up back at the Badshahi Mosque – and spent almost two hours talking to people – usually answering the same set of questions:

From which country is it that you are coming from?
What is your good name?
Are you married?
What is your monthly salary?

Even when surrounded by a group of ten people, each would take it in turns to ask the same questions.

Although I did end up chatting to a group whose English was pretty good:

As we walked back to get an Auto-rikshaw to the hotel, we passed through the red light district of Lahore. As it was early it was pretty quite, but we did see some men with beards wearing sari's which was a bit of an odd sight.

When we made it back to the hotel a Sufi night had been arranged by Malik – but I felt entirely drained and the stomach cramps had returned so decided to call it a night.

Lahore - Part 1

2009-08-21T11:05:00.006+01:00

Lahore is a great city to visit - there's plenty to see and lots going on.

The only problem: I was hit by really bad food poisoning.

On my first day in Lahore I spent the entire day zoned out in bed, making frequent trips to the toilet across the courtyard – with the temperature hovering around 45 degrees and no air con.

Over the next week I would go from feeling just about OK, to feeling totally lethargic and unable to do anything. To make matters worse I was suffering from excruciating stomach cramps.

Despite this, I was able to see some of the city.

The two highlights were the Badshahi Mosque and the Old City that surrounds it.

The Badshahi mosque was built in the Mughal period in 1673, and epitomizes the style of architecture of the day. Until 1986 it was the biggest mosque in the world, able to accommodate 110,000 worshippers. It's scale is certainly impressive.

The Badshahi mosque:

Looking back towards the entrance:

One of the corridors in the hallway that runs around the main building:

These two chaps were guarding the mausoleum of the man who is said to have first raised the idea of a separate state of Pakistan. They couldn't have picked more opposites if they'd tried:

The scale of the mosque can be seen from this photo:

From the mosque it's a quick walk to the Lahore Fort – which is a bit of a disappointment as it's mostly in ruins. Completed in 1605, it was built at the height of the Mughal Empire. The only thing of real interest was the Sheesh Mahal – The Palace Of Mirrors.

The main entrance of the Fort:

And another showing the entrance which was big enough to accommodate elephants with riders:

And inside the Fort:

Amazing wall paintings;

And the Sheesh Mahal:

View of the Mosque from the Fort:

And some random shots from the Old City:

Liver, heart, and kidneys – ready for the barbecue:

I stayed at the Regale Internet Inn – which is where all the travellers stay. It's a great place to meet people, and it was fun to hang out with people in the main courtyard area – just wish I'd been feeling a bit better.

The owner is a member of the Sufi sect, and arranges Sufi “nights out”, and a band at the weekend. On Friday night the band was one of the best Qawwali bands in Pakistan, and the music was amazing. The setting is very intimate, with the band literally a few feet away.

Here are some videos of the band in action (click to view the video):

You are my king, you are my life - Qawwali lyrics translated into English, reflecting the spiritual and devotional nature of this amazing style of music. Click to view the video:

The band:

Islamabad

2009-08-18T06:37:00.003+01:00

I must admit that I was very disappointed by Islamabad. After forming impressions about Pakistan in the Hunza valley I'd expected the capital to be fairly well developed.

The exact opposite is true.

I was trying to think of how to sum up Islamabad – and all I could think of was that it feels like a city recovering from a war – but that seemed too melodramatic. Except when I was in Lahore I got chatting to a British guy who described the city in exactly the same way – so I guess there must be something in the description.

Having arrived and found a place to stay, I headed to the Indian High Commission to apply for a visa, only to find I'd missed them by 30 minutes.

Just to get into the Embassy “enclave” is hard work – there are security checks and concrete blast barriers around the perimeter, and every car is checked for bombs. It took me a bit of negotiation to get in through the gate (bizarrely I had to promise to “call in” at the British Embassay for them to finally let me go into the enclave).

Once inside, security is really tight - you can't even see the British Embassy: it's hidden behind a blast proof perimeter fence which is covered in razor wire.

It was certainly very unsettling – and as I walked past the newest 5 star hotel in town on my way back to town and saw the security measures they were using - I started to wonder just how safe it was in Islamabad.

To top it all I met a Pakistani from London in one of the markets who told me that he thought I was crazy coming here because of the security situation...

----------

One thing that really surprised me is how little English people speak. It's not uncommon to find people with very little or no English – including those who come into contact with tourists on a regular basis.

After meeting so many well educated people in Hunza - it was a real surprise to find the opposite in the capital...

And there's not really that much to see in Islamabad.

In Islamabad there's the Faisal Sha mosque – which is said to be one of the biggest in the world. And while it looks impressive from a distance – it's only when you get up close that it becomes obvious that it's a concrete pour and paint job.

The main courtyard of the mosque:

One of the four huge minarets – there's an urban myth that the CIA were worried that they contained missiles and asked to inspect them (you could almost believe it :-)

The mosque – Pakistan's answer to “modern” architecture:

The other thing to do here is visit Taxila an hour's journey from the capital – which has ruins from the 6th Century BC. While the museum is a total waste of time and money (foreigners have to pay 200 rupees to see the two very small and disappointing rooms), the rest of the main sites are worth the trip. It's incredible to think how old the ruins are here, and reflects the rich history of this part of the world and it's connection with the silk route.

The Dharmarajika mound – this Buddhist stupa was built in the 3rd century BC - it's unusual in that it had Greek style columns to support the main building.

Buddha's feet – reflecting the spread of Buddhism from India more than two thousand years ago:

Remains of the ancient town of Sirkap – built 200 years BC in Indo-Greek style:

A boy watching sheep at the ruins:

On Monday I returned to the Indian High Commission. Security inside the Commission is very tight, and the whole place is covered in sand bags to absorb bomb blasts.

After a total nightmare which took most of the morning trying to get the form filled in (it has to be typed – not hand written) I returned to the Commission and spent 15 minutes trying to get my visa form submitted. The first five minutes were spent hearing how dangerous Pakistan was and how I shouldn't even be here.

The second five minutes was spent listening to the man telling me I should have applied for the visa in London. When I explained I'd been on the road seven months and it would have expired I was told that that was irrelevant – I should have applied in London!

For the final five minutes I was repeatedly told that it was highly unlikely that my application would be granted - because we lived in “difficult times”.

Whatever...

So with nothing else to do – I headed to Lahore...

The Road To Islamabad

2009-08-16T13:02:00.003+01:00

After the beautiful 5.5 kilometer walk down to Jhel, I stayed at the Fairy Point hotel – owned by Mohammed Jan – one of Khaliq's relatives. I was the only person there and they really looked after me, cooking a great meal of dhal and chappati, and a breakfast of Paratha and fried eggs.

Mohammed Jan with his friends making dinner (they killed, de-feathered, and cut up a chicken - but I passed after still not feeling that great):

Enjoying tea after dinner:

I must admit, I felt a little down when I woke in the morning, and said goodbye to them. The day was grey and although the views were impressive – I felt like I was walking in the wrong direction.

Getting ready to leave - a final photo with Mohammed:

Views on the way down:

When I finally pulled into Raikot Bridge three and a half hours later a cheer went up from the men at the small tea shop – they all knew I'd walked up and down the jeep track – and I sat and enjoyed a cup of tea with them while I waited for the bus to Islamabad.

And finally – four hours later – the bus appeared and I hoped on...

...for what was the second worst bus journey of my trip – second only to the trip from Oruro to Uyuni.

The road is in pretty bad shape and we were shaken about the entire time. I got on at 4pm, and got off again at 8:30am the next morning after having had hardly any sleep. I was sat at the back, and I'm pretty sure the suspension was on it's way out as every time we hit a deep pothole (of which there were many) there was a banging sound as the shocks bottomed out.

One other thing about this section of road is that the Foreign Office are advising against taking the bus because of banditry in the area – although no one I spoke to could understand why. The only other option is to fly - but it's so expensive and so prone to cancellation that the bus is the only real option, and all the locals take the bus.

It was a real shock to arrive at Rawalpindi's bus station after the quiet villages and peace of the last few weeks - the roar of the city was a real contrast.

Fairy Meadow - Part 3

2009-08-14T13:35:00.002+01:00

There's an amazing amount of things you could do at Fairy Meadow: peaks to climb, and valleys to walk in. I could have easily spent a week or two here and done something different everyday. But having done the monster walk up to Fairy Meadow, and then the Base Camp trip, all I really wanted was an easy day.

Nanga Parbat and the Raikot Glacier – it's terminal face in full view:

Broad View Hotel:

Khaliq very kindly offered to take me on an easy walk, and show me a part of the meadows that few visitors see. One side of the meadows is open for tourists – but the other side is reserved for the village – and as this is where the women come to tend the fields, and the children to play – it's usually off limits to outsiders.

At the village we met his cousin and Khaliq's five year old son and set off for the walk through the Alpine forests. The way was easy – although steep in places – and finally we came to a small plateau where we sat in the sunshine and enjoyed the stunning view.

Khaliq with his son and cousin:

For an hour or so we discussed our faith, finding so much common ground in the things we believe. It turns out that Khaliq's cousin is able to recite the entire Koran from memory, starting at any point – and it was incredible to listen to him singing words from the Holy Koran, which Khaliq would then translate.

When we got back to the village we sat on the polo field watching life go by. And as we sat, Khaliq shared with me what village life is like here. It really is an amazing place – the way of life here hasn't changed much since people first came to live here. Certainly tourism is a new development – and it's brought some benefits like electricity - but it's not had an impact on the way people live.

After lunch, some of the men from the village gathered, and we drank tea and continued our discussion on religion. I had so many questions for them, and they for me, and again, we found so much common ground. Where differences arose they were so concerned to not cause any offense that they would take great care to explain what they believed. It was an incredible time – one which I can't put into words.

I'd decided to walk back to Jhel that night – the top of the jeep track - to cut the long descent down the next day. It was only when the sun was starting to set that one of them reminded me of this, and I realized we'd been talking for three or four hours.

I'd enjoyed my time so much at Fairy Meadow that I had to drag myself away. I said goodbye to the men of the village – going round three of four times until the good-byes had been said. And then I walked with Khaliq down the tiny track that leads away from the village.

My last memory of Fairy Meadow is walking the dusty track around the corner of a bend that hides Fairy Meadow from view, and then, sweeping around the mountain until Fairy Meadow comes back into view for the final time. Standing at the bend where I'd said goodbye Khaliq stood waving.

One day I'd like to return to Fairy Meadow – Insha'Allah.

My bags at a “rest stop” on the way down:

Fairy Meadow - Part 2

2009-08-14T13:16:00.004+01:00

The next day I went with Khaliq to walk to Nanga Parbat base camp. It's only 10 Kilometers, and 661 meters of ascent – but I'd eaten something that hadn't agreed with me in Gilgit (chappli kebab I think), and I ended up having to walk up and down without eating much, and while making the occasional emergency stop along the way...

But it didn't spoil the day – and I was so glad that I'd gone with Khaliq, as he took me right into the centre of the Raikot Glacier, and told me about life in the village, the wildlife, and the expeditions that had been here to climb the mountain.

The Raikot Glacier – and Nanga Parbat:

The meadows:

Khaliq leading the way across the glacier:

Some of the hundreds of different flowers that grow here:

Looking back towards Fairy Meadow – you can see the white and black glaciers that run side by side:

On the glacier:

Khaliq resting for a moment amongst the beautiful flowers of the meadow:

Marmots playing:

Finally, we made the long pull up to the base camp, where I managed to eat a few spoons of boiled rice and drink a cup of tea.

The “hotel” at base camp:

It was truly breathtaking - there are few place you can get so close to such a major mountain - it's literally less than 2km to the main face.

Nanga Parbat means naked mountain – it's sides are so sheer that snow refuses to cling to sections of it, and where the snow does settle, avalanches are frequent events. It also has another name: Killer Mountain – so many people have died here trying to reach it's sharp peak the name reflects reality.

The main cause of death: the avalanches that rush down the mountain into the glacier. In many cases the bodies are never recovered, ending up within the glacier itself. Because glaciers churn as they move down the hillside, the bodies are trapped and preserved by the ice - and in some cases, the bodies return again to the surface. While we were on the glacier Khaliq told me of the time he found the body of a climber swept away by an avalanche in the 1950's, which had been perfectly preserved.

The naked mountain:

View back down the mountain:

Me – at Base Camp:

The Raikot Glacier:

I'd read about the Drexel Monument – built to commemorate those who have lost their lives here, and we went the 500 meters away from the Base Camp to find it. It was a poignant moment – and moving to standing there – less than 1.5 kilometers from the main face and look at the view. It's easy to understand why people come here to try and reach the top.

Despite coming here many times, Khaliq is still clearly in awe of the view and the area. As we stood and looked up at the mountain, Khaliq told me that everything we could see was an incredible gift provided to us by God. I couldn't have agreed more with him, as we stood and took in the grand design.

And the conversation opened up an opportunity for me to ask some of the many questions I had about Islam. In the space of an hour – with the mountain side as the classroom – Khaliq taught me more about his faith than I'd learned in a semester of studying Islam as part of my comparative religions course at university.

What struck me was how much we could agree on.

And then – we headed back to Fairy Meadows – crossing another glacier on the way back. It was tough going on little food and an unsettled stomach, and it was dark as we walked back into Fairy Meadows.

The second glacier crossing:

Khaliq leading the way:

And just one of the many crevasses we'd walked around during the day:

Rakaposhi at sunset – the light making the mountains look as if they were painted onto the sky:

Path on the way down:

The old village – lived in more than 100 years ago:

The view from Fairy Meadow:

I skipped dinner and went straight to bed – and woke up twelve hours later feeling amazing.

Fairy Meadow - Part 1

2009-08-07T13:58:00.004+01:00

Fairy Meadow, and the trek to Nanga Parbat Base Camp, is said to be one of the most beautiful and easily accessible treks to the base camp of an 8000+ meter mountain. I'd heard so many people say how good it was, I headed off from Gilgit to make the trip.

The only way to reach Fairy Meadow is by taking the public bus to Raikot Bridge, and then taking a tiny jeep track that clings to the side of one of the world's deepest gorges.

Given that it's the deepest gorge over the shortest distance anywhere in the world - I'd decided to walk the track rather than pay the 4000 rupees to hire a jeep for the trip. Every person I talked to told me it wasn't possible to walk that far because of the elevation gain and the heat – but the more people told me it couldn't be done – the more determined I was to give it a try :-)

So I set off up the steep road for the 20.5km, 1962 meter climb. It was sweltering as I headed out of Raikot Bridge, and I was grateful to have an umbrella with me to keep the heat off. As I was planning to go to Islamabad after I'd been to Fairy Meadow – I also had the pleasure of having to carry both my bags up as well.

But the views – were incredible – and the higher the track climbed the more spectacular they became. The valley falls away, as the river crashes in the steep gorge hundreds of meters below. And when Nanga Parbat comes into view – it made the effort worth while.

Looking back towards Gilgit:

And the view towards Nanga Parbat:

I met these men on the way up to Fairy Meadow – they were blasting the side of the mountain to improve the road, and I hid with them behind some rocks while they set off the explosives:

I arrived at Jhel and while eating excellent chappati and dhal had my experience of meeting the Taleban. It turned out to be a fortuitous meeting in many respects, because I really hit it off with one of the men, Khaliq Jan, and would end up spending a great deal of time with him over my remaining time at Fairy Meadow.

After an hour or so of chatting and drinking tea, Khaliq and I set off for the final 5.5km pull up to Fairy Meadow, along a beautiful path through pine trees, clear running brooks, and always ahead: Nanga Parbat.

The view of Nanga Parbat from the pond in the middle of the village:

Fairy Meadow sits on top of a huge flat plateau at 3306 meters, and makes an ideal place to graze cattle and grow crops. While everyone is sweltering in the valley below, Fairy Meadow's climate during the summer is pleasant.

The opposite is true in winter, when the area sees deep snow falls and significant falls in temperature. When the weather turns, the people who live here migrate on mass to Chilas in the valley to escape the harsh winters. I was curious as to whether this was a new development now the jeep track was open, but Khaliq said that it had been this way right back to his great-great-grandfather's time.

Fairy Meadow is a stunning place. Heavily wooded, with amazing views of the Raikot Glacier with it's unique S bend and the main peak of Nanga Parbat – and the other peaks of it's ridge line. In the other direction, Rakaposhi at 7788 meters dominates the skyline.

The village is simple – rustic even – a polo field in the centre with two rudimentary shops. Children play cricket, or practise Polo – it's no surprise that they won the area's Polo Championship this year.

Children at Fairy Meadow:

I stayed at Broad View and this was the view from my basic but comfortable wood cabin:

Nights are spent around camp fires – and I was lucky to be sharing Broad View with a group of Pakistani men who were on vacation together, and who quickly adopted me into their group.

As the sun set, the fire would be lit, and meat would be barbecued on the open fire, as people discussed everything from work to religion, or shared jokes that would have everyone roaring with laughter.

I was extremely well looked after. A five star hotel couldn't have done a better job.

The view at sunset:

And looking back towards Rakaposhi:

The Day I Met The Taleban

2009-08-07T13:56:00.000+01:00

It's not everyday that you sit in a room with a group of men and one of them announces: we are Taleban.

It would – had I not already spent two weeks in Pakistan – have been a worrying experience. Images of guns, kidnapping, and beheadings would have all readily sprung to ming.

The security situation, and specifically the Taleban, is something that comes up in conversation on a frequent basis - much in the same way the financial crisis was discussed in great detail in the UK when it first hit. It's clearly a popular topic, and of the between two and three hundred people I've spoken to in the last two weeks, I'd estimate that the security situation comes up around 60% of the time.

This post is quite long. But I thought I'd try and summarize (as briefly as I can :-) the conversations I've been having.

To summarize the situation as portrayed in the media, were told that:

1)There are two groups operating in Pakistan: The Taleban and Al Queda. Both these groups are responsible for terror attacks in Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, and India – and we're told – are planning attacks both in the US and UK.
2)The Pakistani people are broadly supportive of both these groups, and are either directly or indirectly supporting them.
3)The Pakistani government is supportive of both groups, and until recent pressure was applied by the United States were turning a blind eye to their activities.

While there's a grain of truth in the press reports, I've learned that the situation is far more complicated than what were being presented at face value, and many of the people I've spoken to feel that the true situation is not being accurately reported.

Certainly point one in the list is correct. But in reality, the people who form these groups are rarely of Pakistani descent. Many were forced out of Afghanistan by American action in the country, and given the geography of the border, it's almost impossible to stop people migrating undetected into Pakistan. While the American government berate Pakistan for not taking sufficient action – it appears that it is the actions taken in Afghanistan that has created the situation.

Recruits for these groups are usually drawn from radical countries, including Georgia, and the “Stans”, or are radicalized recruits from the UK and US.

And whether there's one group called the “Taleban” is also open to opinion. A large number of people told me that the term Taleban is now seen as a trade mark amongst radicalized groups – a trade mark that anyone with a grievance will use.

One thing that's clear is – and 100% of the people I spoke to about this subject agreed – Islam is not a religion of violence, and that there is no precedent for killing others in the name of Islam. A number even quoted from the Holy Quran to show that the only time a Muslim can use force against another is if they are attacked first.

Many were clear – suicide bombers and those who kill in the name of Islam are not Muslims.

It's also certainly true that many people in Pakistan support The Taleban. And while this may appear contradictory based on the above, it was only when I learned what the term “Taleban” means that the situation makes sense.

Taleban means a student of Islam – someone who not only professes to be a Muslim – but makes the efforts required to practise the teachings of Islam: praying five times a day, fasting at Ramadan, and choosing to live a good life by not stealing, lying, or killing. A very simplified list, but it gives the picture.

The term is being used in much the same way as the term “Born Again Christian” in the UK and US to identify people who not just profess to be Christians, but put the teaching of Christianity into active practise.

So in Pakistan – it is true to say that there are many Taleban – and they have the full support of the regular people. These “true” Taleban do not kill in the name of Islam – and find the very concept abhorrent. In fact – they would even go as far as to say that these type of actions preclude one from being a Muslim.

And it's for this reason that when I was surrounded by a group of men professing to be Taleban – I knew that there wouldn't be any problems. These were men of peace whose concern was to live a good life.

Finally – there is a great deal of anger here at American foreign policy. President Bush gets very little respect, and it is believed that the preemptive actions taken have created instability in the region. The people I've spoken to feel that Pakistan now has to resolve the situation without the levels of International support seen in Iraq.

With a large number of western governments (Canada, Australia, and America to name a few) advising against all travel to Pakistan, tourism has dwindled, and this is having a major impact on the lives of the people in the North of Pakistan who rely on tourism for their livelihood. It's gotten to the point that in Karimbad one man told me he was facing a return to poverty because of the situation. When he'd first opened his shop, there had been fifteen tourists for each villager – now they are lucky to get fifteen tourists a day.

And because of this, the resources that should be used to develop Pakistan are now being diverted to fight a war that no one wants.

It's sad – but every one I spoke to feels that the situation in Pakistan is being misrepresented – and that there's a general lack of interest in reporting the real facts.

There's certainly something at odds between what were being told is happening – and what I've seen for myself. Since I've been here I've had no problems, and have only found helpful friendly people who are quick to welcome a stranger and make a friend.

Gilgit

2009-08-05T14:23:00.004+01:00

After saying goodbye to Denis and Hugo, and having arranged to meet Alex in Gilgit, I jumped on the back of one of the Suzukis going to Aliabad while my luggage went in the back with the rest of the passengers. After the front of the truck experience at Sost this was an enjoyable ride in the sunshine.

As we pulled into Aliabad Alex passed me on his bike, but I was too busy holding on to take photos.

Men on the back of the Suzuki I'd been riding in Aliabad:

And then it was into one of the minibuses for the trip to Gilgit. Here are some pics from the trip:

Gilgit is the main town of the Hunza area, with a large university and government administration centres. It's dusty, hot, and feels a bit scruffy - although the people are friendly - and Alex and I spent most of our time drinking tea with the locals and trying to work out just how safe the Gilgit to Islamabad run was going to be. Clearly for Alex, this was going to be more of a concern as he would be on his own, with the bike to draw attention to his presence.

This guy fried up chapli kebabs – flat round mutton kebab's cooked in what looks like used engine oil:

Alex and I also found a sweet shop that sold great Pakistani sweets and tea:

Here's a few random shots of Gilgit:

And our take away lunch:

Alex getting ready to leave for Islamabad:

Karimabad - Ulter Meadow

2009-08-04T13:21:00.004+01:00

One of the must do's in Karimabad is to walk up to Ultar Meadow and stand in the natural amphitheater created by the huge mountains.

It's a short 6.5 Kilometre round trip with 770 meters of ascent, and thankfully I was feeling much better after the acupuncture and the unbroken string of good nights sleep I'd had since Passu.

After an excellent breakfast we set off to make the long climb through the village and up into the mountains. The route starts by threading through the small alleys of the old town of Karimabad, and as we climbed up the hillside people greeted us and pointed the way so that we wouldn't get lost. Finally, we reached the orchards at the top of the town and started to follow the small canal that leads up to Ultar Meadow.

The path soon comes to a ledge, cut into the hillside, with a 300 meter drop down to the river below. It's easy going until the path reaches the terminal moraine of the glacier from where it's a steep scramble over giant boulders.

The ground is unstable, and the path is difficult to make out, although it's fairly obvious which direction to head in.

The exposed ice of the glacier – it's a black glacier so is mostly covered in moraine:

Finally, after a long pull, we arrived at the Ultar Meadow and the top section of the glacier.

Looking back towards the Hunza valley:

It's truly breathtaking – with mountain peaks, waterfalls, and the most incredible glacier. Constant rumbles, crashes, and ice falls are a constant reminder that the glacier is making it's way steadily towards the ocean via the Hunza River. And behind it all – Ultar standing at 7388 meters.

A friendly sheep trying to find lunch:

And as if to underline the tremendous forces at work here, a large piece of the cliff has been sheered off by the glacier, and is now moving downwards to become part of the terminal moraine.

The water has a large amount of mica in it, which hangs in suspension and creates these amazing patters in the water:

It took us three and a half hours to reach the meadow, and we'd been told that it would take an hour to return. Except – we ended up getting lost.

As we left the meadows, we decided to follow the water channel along it's upper course, and as we edged further along, the path became smaller and smaller with an ever increasing drop to the valley floor below. Finally, the path disappeared all together, and we were stuck on a tiny ledge on the cliff side.

Several hundred meters below, we could see the path, and rather than backtrack to the meadow, we decided to start climbing down. At one point we had to make a 30 foot scramble down a wet, unstable, almost vertical drop – at the bottom of which was a waterfall. We all got drenched as we picked our way down the unstable scree slopes.

The long climb down, and the water channel that runs to Altit on the other side of the gorge:

The very very long drop to the valley floor:

Finally, after scrambling down some steep scree and moraine, we made it to the path, and retraced our steps back to Karimabad.

The cobbled main street of Karimabad – just like Haworth – but with good weather :-)

Karimabad - Altit Fort

2009-07-30T15:00:00.003+01:00

After a slow start to the day I went for lunch with Denis and Hugo to a place in Karmiabad. The food was excellent: Dhal, Omelette, and amazing Chappati. While we were eating, we got chatting to some Pakistani guys who were here visiting on vacation.

Denis had been to see the Altit Fort in the morning, and after telling me about it I decided to head out and take a look. It's a 4km walk to the fort, but it's a pleasant trip through the small villages of the Hunza Valley.

Setting off from the Hunza Inn:

And the view on the way:

The fort and associated old town was built 900 years ago, and much academic research has been done on the fort due to it's historical significance. After more or less being abandoned, it's now being restored, thanks to money from both the Aga Khan foundation, and various governments around the world.

What it means to the local villagers is that they can return to their ancestral homes, which have been renovated, including modern facilities such as electric and running water. The renovations have been sensitively completed, so there are no cables or pipes on view.

The ancient pool – in which all the boys swim:

I was lucky enough to be able to join a Pakistani group who were here on vacation as the guide took us around. After looking around the old town we were taken to the royal garden, and then the fort itself. Here's some pics:

The fort close up:

The small dark cool rooms in the fort – this wall has a body inside – when the king was displeased with one of his sons for rebelling against him, he had him bricked up in the fort. Nice!:

Intricate carving within the Fort:

The ingenious roof openings that allow smoke out, but can be closed when it starts to rain:

The amazing view back up the KKH from the rood of the Fort:

The watchtower:

And the equally amazing view down the Hunza valley:

The Old Town of Altit:

The 200 meter drop to the valley floor:

Er...me!

Years ago, warriors used to jump from the edge of the cliff onto this rock almost 6 feet away to prove that they were hard enough:

The serene royal gardens (on an interesting point, Prince Charles visited here with Aga Khan a few years ago):

And the tiny alleys of the Old Town:

And looking back up at the fort perched on it's spur of rock:

On the way through the old town the guide invited me to his father-in-law's house for tea, and we spent an hour talking about life in the village. After the pleasant walk back, it was time for the excellent communal dinner at the Hunza Inn.

Karimabad

2009-07-30T14:53:00.001+01:00

I really fell in love with Passu. And I thought when we left that I'd seen the best of what the Hunza valley had to offer. But having arrived in Karimabad – it's every bit as amazing.

All of the people who'd stayed at the Passu Inn had agreed to meet at the Hunza Inn in Karimabad, and one of the great things about the Hunza Inn is that they have communal dinners at 8:30 each night – and the food is pretty good.

The next day I needed to try and find some replacement shoes – because mine have started to leak in. So I headed to Aliabad with Denis and Hugo to have a look around and hopefully get a replacement pair.

I ended up chatting with a teacher, Selena, at one of the local schools, and he invited me to his school for tea. It's the school holidays at the moment, but the Principal and some of the other teachers were there, so I had tea with them, and we chatted for a while.

Hunza is really a remarkable place. All the people here see education as being pivotal to the progress and development of the area – and contrary to what were often told in the western media – education is seen as being improtant for both girls and boys. In the Hunza valley both are offered equal opporuntities.

And in common with Passu, Selena was able to tell me of the many pupils who had gone on to further education and top flight jobs. It was a fasincatring insight into the local community and the culture of the Hunza valley.

After lunch, and having no luck on the shoe front, we headed back to Karimabad and I decided to try some of the shops there.

One of the shop owners was a fully qualified mountain guide, and after telling me that he might have some shoes that would do the job, invited me in for tea. It was another interesting hour of chatting about the mountains, and many glacier crossings that can be made in the area. HIS NAME had been on a number of treks along the Baltoro Glaicer, and the more we talked, the more I relaised that I need to return here and spend more time exploring the area.

After an hour, I tried on the shoes – which sadly didn't fit. But he did tell me of a guy who repaired shoes.

It's incredinble how people repair things here that we would simply throw away, and with little more than a sharp awl, and a piece of heavy duty string, the guy stitched the parts of the shoe that were leaking. While I'll need to replace them in the next few weeks – they'll get me through to Islamabad.

And then it was back to the Hunza Inn for diner.

Denis and Hugo playing chess at the Old Hunza Inn:

The Road To Karimabad...

2009-07-30T14:44:00.003+01:00

It's always fun when unexpected things happen on the road – and today was going to be another of those days.

It was raining when I woke up and met the others for breakfast. The plan was for us all to head down to Karimabad using our various modes of transport and meet for Dinner at the Old Hunza Inn.

While I'd had a great night's sleep, I still wasn't feeling that great and my breathing had worsened in the night – not much – but noticeable to everyone else. Denis started asking me some questions about how I was feeling, and all his questions diagnosed exactly what was going on - in detail.

I already knew from the conversations we'd had that Denis has 20 years experience in acupuncture, and had been in China for a few months learning more advanced techniques. After perfectly diagnosing everything that was going on he offered to do some acupuncture to see if it would help at all.

He was very clear that sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't – and unlike some other complementary health approaches I've tried, Denis never promised anything – only that it was worth trying – and if it didn't work then there were other things that might.

And after his very clear diagnosis of my symptoms I decided to give it a try. Now those of you who know me know that I have an aversion to having needles stuck in me. So after asking five or six times if it was going to hurt (much to the amusement of everyone else) I decided to go for it.

I'd have to say – it was nothing like I expected and was really amazed by the experience.

Firstly – the needles aren't that big – and as Denis put the first one in I felt hardly anything. He then moved it until I could feel what I could only describe as a not unpleasant burning sensation, at which point he stopped and went onto the next one.

After having three needles in my back it felt like there was energy flowing between my shoulders – it was a really amazing sensation.

Next Denis put a needle into each of my wrists, and these caused what I can only describe as a very mild electric shock.

But it was the next two - in my chest - that had the biggest effect. I had this amazing warm sensation radiating out from the needles, and what felt like pressure – as if someone was pushing my chest gently with their palm.

The final two needles went into my lower legs and again I had the most amazing feeling of energy flowing through my body.

After ten minutes, Denis moved the needles slightly to recreate the affect, and this time it was much stronger than before. It left me feeling incredibly awake and alive. While my breathing symptoms remained – I felt really amazing. And as the morning progressed I started to cough up the fluid that asthmatics get in their lungs as part of the symptoms.

Another ten minutes later the needles were out and I felt great.

Not at all what I'd expected when I'd woken that morning – and another experience to add to my now very long list :-)

Having packed our things Denis, Hugo, and myself went out to stand by the side of the road and wait for some transport to arrive, while Alex and Alison waited for the weather to clear before setting off using their own transport.

And we waited...

And waited...

And waited.

At lunch time Alex suggested we have pasta and tomato sauce for lunch – so we bought some things form the store and made lunch.

And then we waited...

And waited...

And waited.

When it rains here, the chance of rock slides increases and we thing this was why there was very little traffic on the road. But as the day wore on the weather improved, and so at 3pm Alex fired up his BMW GS and headed out onto the road.

Alison was also planning to make a move, but a flat tire and a ruptured tire cement tube meant she was going to have to stay in Passu until the electric came back on and someone could heat weld her bicycle tire.

Luckily for us, at 4pm someone came along who agreed to give us a list for 150 rupees - so we bundled our things into the tiny minibus and set off.

Needless to say – the scenery was amazing and was somehow enhanced by the rain and clouds. As we passed down the valley, we could see tiny villages clinging to the mountain side, while the river wound it's course through the valley bottom.

The rocky landscape on the road to Karimabad:

At one point the scenrary changed into sheer granite cliff faces, with huge boulder piles – it was a climber's dream – and though austere maintained it's own unique beauty.

After almost an hour we spotted Alex ahead talking to some locals, and I was able to get these shots of him as he quickly over took us.

The scenery on the way into Karimabad:

Small villages clinging to the mountainside:

The Hunza Valley – and Rakaposhi just coming into view:

And finally we arrived at Karimabad.

And Karimabad meant one thing for us all: Internet access – and the chance to contact people from home. Ten days without any Internet access – probably the longest period of time in the last five years I've not been on-line.

And after our on line fix, we headed to the Hunza Inn and had a great dinner of dhal, veg curry, rice, and salad.

Another perfect day on the road – amazing people, amazing scenery – and unexpected experiences.

Passu

2009-07-28T13:07:00.004+01:00

After a quick breakfast of fried eggs, chapati, and tea - Denis, Hugo and myself squeezed ourselves into a small minibus along with twenty one other people to make the one hour journey to Passu. Needless to say – the scenery was incredible.

There was no one at the Passu Inn when we arrived so we sat in the garden and had cold drinks while we waited for the owner to arrive. After arranging our rooms, we headed out to find lunch, and then made our way along a trail to find the Passu glacier.

The main road at Passu:

The green fields of the village, kept fertile by the glacial waters:

There's a map just behind where I'm sitting now that shows all of the glaciers in the area, and it's amazing how many and how easy to access they all are.

Scenery on the way to the glacier:

After about an hour we came to the glacier, and made our way up the Moraine until we were standing right on the top, just around from the terminal face. As the rocks were so unstable – with huge boulders threatening to crash down on us – we made our way back down and along the lake shore, and after some scrambling came to within 20 meters of the terminal face.

The terminal face of the Passu Glacier:

Denis and Hugo scrambling over the giant boulders towards the Glacier face:

And looking away from the Glacier:

Cold air rushed down the huge glacier that stretches far up the mountain side, while water rushed from the cave like opening.

And then we walked back through the moraine with the smell of sage strong in the summer sunshine, the amazing ridge of mountains on all sides. I can't think of a single place I've been in the world where the mountains rise so sharply and to such a great height.

The view towards Passu - the almost unreal quality of the view adds to the atmosphere:

At the bridge across the river we met Alex, from France, whose riding a BMW GS from Paris to Kathmandu, and he decided to stay at the Passu Inn. We arrived back to find that Alison had made it to Passu on her second day, and so we all had dinner together before calling it a night.

----------

I've not been feeling one hundred percent for the last few days, and was having some mild asthma symptoms. But there was a trek in the Planet that we all wanted to do, and with a light drizzle and the mountains covered in cloud we set off.

The Passu Glacier covered by mist:

Having walked for a while I started to struggle as we hit a steep up hill section, and concious that I was holding everyone else back, reluctantly decided to return to the village.

It felt like the waste of a good day, and I was feeling really deflated and frustrated as I trudged slowly back to Passu. Except the day was going to take an unexpected turn, and provide me with one of the most memorable experiences of my trip.

Not wanting to be cooped up, I set off to meander slowly through the village, and on my way a man told me that there would be some music festivities and that I should come back in twenty minutes. So I dropped my things at the Inn, and wandered back towards the school.

On my way, I met Rasool, who invited me to join the festivities that were just about to start.

Yesterday was the day that Aga Khan, the spiritual leader of the Ismaili Muslims became the Imam, and they hold several days of activities, and today – the village was gathering to dance.

Originally planning only to watch from the back and then leave without being noticed, I was soon ushered up onto a covered area in the school yard, and told to sit on one of the few padded seats as the music started. I quickly worked out that the seats were reserved for the elders of the village, and ended up sitting with Rasool on one side, and the village Imam on the other.

Three musicians provided lively music, while the men danced. After an hour, the school yard was packed, the women on one side – all dressed in beautiful and brightly coloured saris, with the men sitting on the other side.

As the festivities went on, Rasool provided a running commentary on what was happening, who was who, and the history of the village and school.

The people in Pasu are Tajik descendants who many years ago came from what is now Tajikistan, via Afghanistan, and into Northern Pakistan. The village believes that education is key – and educate both girls and boys in mixed classes. In fact, the village of Pasu now has two schools to cater for all the children.

Many of the former children are highly educated, and as they danced, Rasool would tell me where each of the young men lived, and what his profession was. There were doctors, engineers, several high ranking army officers – all living in Islamabad, Karachi, or Lahore. All had returned for the festival.

Rasool also explained to me that there were people from Passu working all over the world – and named half a dozen countries and the various professions - all the former students were highly qualified and in respected professions.

The dancing would follow a set format. One of the men – clearly the organiser – would get some of the men up too dance – they would always say no, no, but would soon be dancing.

One would lead, the others would follow, and then the lead would change, until three or four people had led around the school yard, and then the original leader would lead for a while and the dance would end.

Everyone danced – young and old. Even the young men from the big cities, who were dressed in modern western clothes and would not have looked out of place in Manchester. Everyone was encouraged, and the atmosphere was supportive as people clapped and cheered. When the woman all laughed at one of the boys who made a wrong turn leading his group the men shouted encouragmenet, and everyone cheered him on.

And then – disaster. The band stopped. The organiser announced something.

And then he pointed at me. A special dance for our honoured guest - Rasool translated and smiled.

And then they were calling me to join in the dance. Five young men got up and one led off the dancing, and I tried my best to follow as the six or seven hundred people cheered on. And then – to make it worse – the man who had been leading stepped back – and told me it was my turn to lead.

I felt nothing but encouragement as I stumbled my way around the school yard, arms in the air, spinning around while the other men followed and everyone cheered. As I passed the organiser he was shouting encouragement at me in Urdu with a huge smile. I didn't need any translation.

And then one of the other men took over, and I stumbled along trying to match his moves. Needles to say – my dancing was the worst of the day – by a long way. Some of the men – particularly the young guys seemed so connected in to the complicated rhythms, and some of the moves would have been at home even in the most complex of Bollywood routines.

And then – thankfully – it was over, and I returned to my seat.

I spent an incredible afternoon with the people of the village - it was my honour and privileged to be invited to join them. My thanks to the people of Passu for making it a day that I'll never forget.

Sost

2009-07-28T09:47:00.004+01:00

Today was one of the those perfect days: Fun, terrifying, and perception changing.

The Karakoram Highway runs from Kashgar in China all the way to Islamabad in Pakistan, and on it's way crosses the Khungerab Pass, making it the highest paved international road in the world.

It was opened in 1982 - and during it's construction (which took 20 years) almost 900 people died. Work still goes on to upgrade the road, and to deal with the many landslides that occur in this region.

You can read more about the highway by clicking this link.

Having said goodbye to Jay, I headed off to the customs building at the other side of town to buy my bus ticket to Sost, and to get stamped out of China.

Looking towards Pakistan from China:

The Karakoram Highway goes through incredible scenery, along a wide open valley, where people keep cattle, and golden marmots play at the side of the road as it climbs its way up to the Khungerab Pass.

It's name – pass of blood - comes from the silk route days when raiders would attack the camel trains at this remote and isolated location. Thankfully those days are now gone, and we reached the top of the pass, at 4693 metres, without incident.

At the top of the pass Alison, a Canadian whose cycling through SE Asia, China, and now Pakistan got her bike from the roof, and we waved goodbye, got back on the coach and headed off down the other side of the pass into Pakistan.

Welcome to Pakistan:

Those of you who follow my blog will know that I have a real fascination with borders, and the way the landscapes always seems to change (I'm still looking for one where it doesn't :-). And amazingly – as soon as we set off, there was a marked change as the walls of the pass began to crowd in and we dropped down into Pakistan following the course of the Indus River.

The scenery is truly amazing - like no where else I've been. Mountain peaks covered in snow crowd the skyline, as the road clings to the side of the mountain with the river rushing in the valley floor.

A rare glimpse of the Marco Polo sheep - named after the famous explorer. While they are currently endangered, a national park has been created to protect their natural habitat in an attempt to save the species:

And then finally we came to the check point at Dih, where our passports were checked and we paid the $4 national park fee.

From there it was on, through the narrow gorges – the walls closing in ever closer before finally the pass began to open out again.

And then, ahead, a line of traffic signalled problems – and a real change in the day.

A huge rock fall covered the road making it impossible for traffic to pass, and we all piled out to see what was happening. We'd been told that a rock fall had blocked the highway and would take a day to clear, but it turns out that they had blasted part of the rock face because of problems with landslides.

Our options were to wait on the coach until the next day, or walk around the road block and find onward transport. The driver told us it was only 4km to Sost, and Denis and Hugo (father and son from Quebec in Canada) decided that we'd set off on foot.

So we climbed around the rock pile and made our way along the mountain road on foot.

At a road building camp we asked the distance to Sost – and were told 20km – way further than we'd been told, but with no other options we set off for the long walk.

Denis and Hugo leading the way:

As we're walking, a Petrol Truck appears and we're greeted by three Pakistani men who are sitting on the front bumper of the truck. They shouted for us to get on, and so Denis and Hugo climbed up onto the roof while I took the final space on the bumper.

I'd like to say that I wasn't scared – but for the first few minutes I was terrified as we raced along the narrow road. But I soon got chatting to the other guys and started to really enjoy the ride.

At one point, the road straightened out, and the driver put his foot down and we were soon doing over 80km, holding onto the frame of the bumper as the wind rushed into our faces.

It was an amazing ride – no glass to obscure the view – and the continual thought that one bad bump in the road and it could all be over. But it was a total adrenaline rush, and 40 minutes later we pulled into Sost.

The other guys on the bumper were all trying to get to Gilgit, and as they waited for their bus I sat with them for several hours chatting. And the more we talked – the more my perceptions of this amazing country changed.

They were all highly educated – doctors on their way home for the summer vacation. I'd got some questions already running round my head, and they were quite happy for me to ask away.

Most of them were from the Swat valley – a place I would love to visit but won't be able to on this trip because of the fighting in the area. The Pakistan government have an offensive against the Taliban, and many of the local population have been moved to Islamabad and Peshawar to reduce civilian casualties.

I'd been told by a number of people I've met on the road about how kind and welcoming people in Pakistan are. And I was to see it twice on my first day here. My new friends were all Pashtuns, who are well known for their generosity both to each other and to strangers.

During the conversation I was telling my new friends about the problems in China, and that I'd been able to contact anyone at home and was waiting for an opportunity to call home so that I could let people know that I was OK. One of the men pulled out his mobile phone and insisted that I use it to call home – as he was adamant that I should let my family know that I was OK.

I offered to cover the costs of the call – but he refused any payment – saying that he was just glad to have been able to help me out.

New friends in Sost:

A short time later, Denis and Hugo came to where I was staying so we could go for dinner, and given that there was going to be no more buses to Gilgit we all decided to head out together. We sat in a tiny little hut and had Chicken curry, Dhal, and Sag with Tandoori Roti – the kind of food I've been craving my entire trip :-)

When we'd finished and it was time to leave we asked how much it was, and our new friends said that they had already paid for us. When we tried to offer something towards the meal, they were insistent that it was their pleasure to feed us.

An incredible end to an already amazing day. I couldn't have asked for a better first day in Pakistan.

One of the many "pimp my ride" Bedford trucks that run up and down the highway:

Tashkurgan

2009-07-27T12:10:00.003+01:00

It was time to leave China – and my exit route was down the legendary Karakoram Highway into Pakistan.

I'd met Jay in Dunhuang and then again in Kashgar, and as he was heading to Karakul Lake we decided to head to the bus station together. The plan was to spend a night at Karakul with it's amazing lake and mountain scenery and then head into Pakistan the following day.

Except the driver never stopped – and we ended up in the border town of Tashkurgan. Not a problem – as I wasn't that bothered about seeing the lake (being way too excited about going to Pakistan) and Jay could stop at the lake on his way back.

Roadside market stop on the way to the border:

On the road:

White sand dunes near one of the lakes:

The 7546 meter peak Muztagh Ata:

Towards Pakistan:

As border towns go – Tashkurgan isn't that bad – and after getting a room for the night, we headed out to see the ancient stone fort that overlooks the area.

The views are breathtaking, back towards China, and then away, down to the valley and my next destination: Pakistan.

View from Tashkurgan Fort:

And the walls of the fort:

When we got back to the hotel we sat out and ate incredible Chinese food, and had a few cold beers – my last for a while given that Pakistan is dry. Here's some of the amazing things on the menu :-)

Ahhh...wood shall be meat - my favourite:

And capsule speculation of meat - excellent - we'll take two:

Kashgar

2009-07-27T11:50:00.002+01:00

Kashgar gets under your skin like few places. It's impossible not to relax and take a slower pace of life here. It feels like the end of the road – the final frontier of China – surrounded by eight different nations - and a legendary stop on the Silk Road.

But the city is quite and few shops are open. There is no Internet access and all phone communication with the outside world has been cut by the Government. When we arrive at the hostel we are told that it is not safe to go out and that we need to remain inside, as the possibility of riots is high.

After being here a few days, it's been possible to piece together what's been happening – although all of what follows is based on what I've been told unless otherwise noted.

It appears that two weeks ago a Han Chinese man accused a Uigher of raping a Han Chinese girl in Guangzhou Province.

Enraged by the accusation, five thousand Han Chinese made their way to a factory where eight hundred Uighers worked. After the violence had ended two hundred of the Uighers were dead and many more were seriously injured.

The police investigated – and were able to prove that the allegations of rape were unfounded.

Angry at the situation, and frustrated by the ongoing oppression by the government, riots broke out in Urumqi. Travellers arriving in Kashgar have been speaking of a city in chaos, with increasingly violent scenes as armed gangs wander the streets. The few pictures I've seen on the official government website (the only Internet site available here) are of burnt out cars and buildings.

And the violence has spread. Riots took place here the day before we arrived – although while I've been here things have remained calm – if not a little tense.

Matthew had arranged to meet Stephanie and Maria the first night he was here, and despite being told there would be a curfew at midnight, we headed out to find food. The streets were very quite with little traffic, and we had a fun evening – with good food and even better company.

As the curfew hour had already passed (oops :-), we decided to set off back to the hostel.

As we were making our way back, a convoy of 25 trucks full of soldiers passed us on the street. Thankfully we were shielded from them by thickly growing trees, and we hurried back to the hostel before the doors were locked for the evening.

One of the many tandoori ovens used to bake bread:

On the second night Matthew, Stephanie, and myself decided to go for a wander, and headed down to the mosque. We'd been strictly warned that if we saw any crowds we were to head straight back to the hostel. As we were about to turn back from the road block we saw a large crowd of men heading our way, so ducked down into one of the side streets – only to find them coming our way and heading down a small side street.

The next thing we hear the crowd shouting “Allahu Akbar”, and so I decided to stick my head around the corner to see what was going on. I got chatting with a guy and he told me that we were safe, and that the shouting was a wedding celebration, and if we stayed around we'd see the bride.

So we waited, and eventually she appeared followed by people from a house up the street. Everyone was crying – especially the bride – and we felt a little intrusive as we watched as she said goodbye to her family and got into a car to be driven to her new family's house.

Emperor Mao - stands watching the main square:

I've been here three days now and apart from the Uigher stores in the Old Town – all of the shops have been closed, and the mosque – one of the main attractions here – has been cordoned off.

But despite all this – Kashgar is an incredible place to visit – although there are two sides to this amazing place.

As with most Chinese cities – there's the new part: built by and for the Han Chinese. It looks depressingly like every other Han Chinese city – a no character cookie cutter development of modern buildings.

And then there's the old town – vibrant, colorful, and full of life. Here are some pictures:

The main street:

The tiny lanes of the old town:

Produce for sale at the heart of the old town:

Kebab's being cooked on the street:

Sadly – most of the old town has been destroyed to make way for the modern Kashgar. From what I've read, it won't be long before this last part of Kashgar will be torn down – bringing to an end centuries of history, and a unique culture that can only be found here – in this one place.

It does appear that the government intends to create a simulacrum of the Old Town – as they've done with so many other places through out China: The Wall, and Lijiang are just two that spring to mind. But at least part of this incredible town will be preserved for future generations even if it is "upgraded" for the convenience of tourists.

But while it remains – just to wander through the tiny maze like streets of the Old Town, and to graze at the street food stalls is a real experience.

The Road To Kashgar...

2009-07-27T11:40:00.002+01:00

The 24 hour train journey from Urumqi to Kashgar passes through some incredible scenery. But two things made it a memorable trip.

I met Mathew from Glasgow, and we ended up having dinner and a few beers while the train made it's way through the desert and ever changing scenery. At one point the view out of the window looked exactly like the glens of Scotland – along with rain, low clouds, and sheep.

The second event of the evening was a series of whispered conversations we had with a Uigher man (the majority tribe in the Xiencheng province of China), who wanted to tell us what was really going on in the area.

It turns out that the night before there had been riots in Urumqi, with an official death toll of 159 as of today (09/07/09).

The story is all too familiar – with strong echoes of Tibet.

The Uighers do not identify themselves as being Chinese, and from the various conversations I've had don't want to be part of China. In many cases, the people told me they feel like they are being oppressed by the Chinese Government.

There have been uprisings before – and in common with Tibet, the Uighers have their own flag, national anthem, and government in exile – which is currently based in Germany. If the area ever gets it's independence – it will be renamed East Turkistan – two words that shouldn't be said here out loud. When we inadvertently said it – we were told to be quite – being heard having these kind of discussions can lead to imprisonment or execution for Chinese residents.

As part of the process to “reform” the area, Han Chinese people are being brought into places like Urumqi and Kashgar, and it appears (from what I've been told) that job opportunities always go to the Han Chinese who move to the area.

On a slightly different note, the Tamarkand Desert – just down the road – is used for Nuclear testing, and almost 50 nuclear devices have been detonated here, by both China and Pakistan. Sadly, the increased levels of radiation has resulted in thousands of Uighers dying of radiation related illnesses and a marked increase in birth defects. The detonations have also rendered swathes of the land as useless.

I hardly slept as we crossed the desert, as I turned over the conversations I'd had – but felt reasonably rested the next morning. Just before we reached Kashgar, another of the whispered conversations took place, and it turns out that during the night the police had searched the train, checking identity cards for all Uighers. Ominously – photo's had been taken at the riots in Urumqi, and our “friend” had had his ID card checked against the pictures of those wanted by the authorities.

Finally – at lunch time we arrived in Kashgar to find a city where most of the stores were closed, and a lock down was in progress.

Urumqi

2009-07-27T11:31:00.002+01:00

The trains don't run from the new station in Dunhuang to Urumqi – so anyone wanting to head that way has to make a two hour minibus journey through the desert. The road is amazingly straight, crossing a desert plain, and in the two hours the road only curved three or four times.

As Luiyang approached, strange black hills materialised out of the mirages, at first appearing to float in an ocean of air, before materialising into real shapes as we approached and then drove through this strange black landscape.

Luiyang itself is unremarkable. An industrial town with not much to recommend it – with the exception of the incredible street food.

The hard sleeper carriage was full of Chinese people, and it wasn't long before everyone was sleeping as the train crossed the desert.

In the morning – the flat desert monotony continued – with the exception of the fields of wind turbines that stretched out into the distance.

While all we seem to hear in the west is how China is opening a coal fuelled power station every week – we don't get the full picture of what's really going on here. China now has it's own environmental action plan, and there does seem to be a real push in investing in renewable technology.

In addition to these wind turbines, I've seen a significant number of hydro generation plants while I've been in China. And added to this, many houses have solar water heaters on the roof. Photovoltaic cells also make regular appearances, powering street lamps or cell phone repeater stations.

Recycling is also big. People collect bottles from bins, and it's not uncommon to be
asked for an empty drinks bottle (or even sometimes a half full one :-). Plastic is money – and there appears to be a whole economy revolving around empty bottles. Perhaps even more striking – I've been told that store owners now have to sell plastic bags to discourage proliferation.

Certainly not everything is perfect here and there's a long way to go. But it does feel like while the west talks a good game – China is making significant steps towards addressing the issue of the environment.

In fact – an article I read in Wired magazine before I left for my trip detailed that China was the biggest net investor in renewable technology. It would be a major coup for this developing country if it were to become a world leader in renewables – stealing the march from the west, and attracting the inevitable rewards for any country able to lead the way...

Almost 12 hours after setting off, the train finally arrived in Urumqi – the capital of the Xiencheng region – one of the largest provinces and home to a significant minority group – the Uighers.

I'd not planned to stay here, and so made my way amid tight security to the ticket office. But there were no train seats until the next day. So I walked around to find an Internet cafe and had one of the strangest web experiences I've ever had.

Many of the frustrations in China are linked to the lack of personal space. It's not uncommon to have people look over your shoulder as you read something, or simply grab the guide book from you and start leafing through it.

As I was searching for flights to Kashgar I ended up with five Chinese people all clustered around my chair looking over my shoulder and commenting on everything I did. It was like being at work when your showing a group of people something, and they're crowding around to get a better view, asking questions as you go.

As it turned out, flights were twice the price of the train, so I headed back to the ticket office and bought the only ticket available for the next day: a soft sleeper to Kashgar.

After some fun and games, I ended up at the below average Maitan Youth Hostel and set off to explore. And there's not really that much to see.

Here's a picture of the main square:

What I wasn't to know at the time, was that an hour after I took this photo, two explosive devices would be detonated here, and 120 people would be shot dead, with hundreds more injured.

Gobi Desert Adventure - Part 2

2009-07-27T09:59:00.002+01:00

As we headed up behind the caves, the storm that had been threatening all day finally decided to hit, and the temperature began to drop the further into the desert we went.

Thankfully I had my jumper with me, but even with this and a hat it was starting to get really cold, so Abe and I decided to walk to try and keep warm.

After an hour we could see strange diamond shapes in the distant dunes, and while we were getting closer Abe and I were trying to guess what it was. It turns out it's where they grow corn, using the shapes in the picture below to stabilise the dunes.

We stopped at a large pile of hay, and while the camels helped themselves, we sheltered from the wind and ate some cashew nuts.

The straw that broke the camel's back:

But before long it was time to head back into the raging storm. We put on the net face guards Mr. Li had given us, but even with these the sand kept getting into our eyes. And then to make things even worse – it started to rain.

Putting the tent up was a real challenge, and even with the three of us working together it proved tough. In the end, Abe had to get in to stop it blowing away, while I dug the tent into the sand and Mr. Li filled sand bags which he used to tie the tent down with.

By this point it was starting to get really wet, and so we jumped in the tent and had dinner of local bread, cucumbers, and beer. While we ate, the wind blew the walls of the tent around so badly that at one point we had to hold them up.

As we sat listening to the sound of the sand and rain, we could just make out another sound – almost too quite to hear - like someone singing – almost musical – but not quite. It was the sound of the dunes as the wind moved tons of sand through the air.

There was no let up as the light finally died, and as the wind drove the sand and rain into the side of the tent - water began to leak in. At one point it was running down one side of the tent, so we tried to arrange ourselves as best we could to stay dry – although it became increasingly difficult as the rain continued to come into the tent.

And after a long chat – we settled in for the long night ahead.

At one point the wind stopped, and I decided to head out to the toilet. Outside of the tent I could just make out two forlorn lumps: the camels had had to sit through the whole event without the benefit of any shelter – although they did seem quite happy ruminating on the hay they'd eaten earlier.

As soon as I got back into the tent – the wind, rain, and sand all started up again with what seemed like an increased violence. And I lay awake the rest of the night waiting for daylight.

At 6am, Mr. Li woke up and headed out to get breakfast, and we soon heard him calling us. The scene outside was so unlike the night before. The dunes were peaceful – with no wind. And the most amazing sunrise coloured the sky. It was one of the those magical moments. Worth the sleepless night just to stand and watch the desert waking as the sun crept higher into the sky.

Day break:

After breakfast we set off – on foot – walking through the most amazing landscape. The quality of light so incredible, and the rain had flattened and compacted the sand adding a sharp edge to everything.

Behind my camel:

And then – we spotted the camp-site from the night before, and in the distance Dunhuang. And after another hour on the camels we were back in the cemetery and heading for Mr. Li's.

That night we went out for a monster meal - and had the Eggplant Burns Face - my favourite:

A Brief Interlude...

2009-07-15T14:07:00.004+01:00

This is the first time in 10 days that I've been able to get Internet access, as major riots have taken place in China in the two cities I've visited, and all Internet, SMS, and Phone communications were cut by the Chinese Government.

Since I've left China four days ago for Northern Pakistan, there has been no Internet access given the remoteness of the villages I've visited.

While I now have access to the Internet, it's very slow, and I've been unable to upload any pictures as the connection isn't constant. I'm also going to be heading into some fairly remote areas without Internet for a while, so until I can find high speed Internet, there's going to be a short delay before I can make any further posts.

Gobi Desert Adventure - Part 1

2009-07-05T14:05:00.000+01:00

After hanging out in town Charley drove us to Mr Li's house – our guide for the next few days. From there we set off on Camel back towards the dunes, and the desert. It was incredibly hot, and the first part of the trip goes through a traditional cemetery, and then into the desert.

Leaving Mr. Li's House:

The Cemetery:

The wind makes interesting shapes in the dunes, and there was lots to see as we headed towards that night's camp site.

Desert Hare:

Intrepid Explorers:

After a few hours, we arrived and helped Mr. Li set up camp, after which Abe and I walked up one of the dunes to see the view, while Mr. Li made a fire and sorted out dinner: instant noodles, and the most amazing bread stuck on sticks and warmed by the fire. A few beers later, and we were ready to call it a night.

Climbing the dunes:

Our first camp site:

The next day we headed off on the camels again through the most amazing desert scenery. One thing I've learned about camels is that they are amazingly greedy and will try and eat at any point they can. The other thing is – they can be unbelievably stubborn.

As we were heading up one of the dunes, my camel refused to go any further, and after some scary moments on the top of the steep dune, the wooden bit that controlled my camel came free. As Mr. Li and Abe headed down the other side of the steep dune, my camel looked like it was going to make a run for it.

Mr. Li had to put the wooden bit through my camel's nose and there was all sorts of fun and games as the camel protested – even spitting on Mr. Li at one point.

And then we headed back on through the desert to the entrance to the Mogao caves.

The Mogao caves are an amazing collection of small grottoes developed over a one thousand year period between the 4th and 14th century. What makes them remarkable is the art work inside is representative of all of the periods over which the caves were constructed.

At some point, and for an unknown reason the caves were abandoned, and an earthquake resulted in the caves being entirely covered in sand.

Following discovery at the turn of the 20th Century, archeologists from Europe removed some of the statues and a significant majority of the manuscripts found in a hidden “library” cave, and in some cases actually cut out part of the paintings from the walls for display in European and American museums.

Thankfully not too much damage was done.

The caves inaccessibility and distance from Beijing meant that during the Cultural Revolution – when a significant majority of China's religious past was destroyed by the government – the caves were spared.

Amazingly – one of the governments own ministers had the foresight to protect the caves in the early 70's, giving a significant sum of money from his own pocket to construct a concrete reconstruction of the original wood buildings to preserve the caves. And while some of the exterior looks like a 70's pebble dashed house, it's protected the paintings from further damage.

The dry climate here means that the caves and the paintings within have retained much of their original colour – although further work is on going to protect the paintings. Of the more than 400 caves only a few are opened each day to tourists and these are always rotated. Absolutely no photography is allowed inside - they even make you leave your camera at a locker room before being allowed to enter, and you have to be escorted by a guide.

The Mogao Caves - the wooden structure is how it would have all looked years ago:

Temple built in the 1920's to replace an earlier structure. Inside - the world's third largest Buddha:

The 70's façade:

Mogao's famous ancient street art dating back to the early 21st century:

"Interesting" English presentation in the exhibition centre:

Ariel view taken from our hot air balloon :-)

The caves where people lived while the temples were active:

While we were looking around the caves a sandstorm had started, and it was getting increasingly windy as we walked back to meet Mr. Li. There was a lot of sand in the air, and visibility was starting to reduce. And as we set off back into the desert, the weather began to deteriorate...