Wednesday

Easy Goan In Goa

Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness... broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime ~ Mark Twain

December 2006


Sunset (it's on the west coast) at Palolem. I stayed in one of those beach huts on stilts

Vince (French), me, Dawn (Canadian) and Ty (Canadian) at dinner on the beach. The best tuna I have ever eaten

Fishermen untangling their nets

View on a bushwalk

Sunbaking cow

Nico (German), me and Dawn on Colba beach

Fresh juice at the Anjuna markets

Local children at Anjuna

I should not travel to nice places

Up early, I walk briskly along Rue Barbes towards the local markets behind the Marie, my last day in France. Tonight I catch the Eurostar to London. I need to prepare- I still have to pack, to take a few pictures, buy some cheeses from the fromagerie, grab some wine, wrap goodbye presents, a million other things. Hell, I cant believe I didnt do some of this stuff earlier! Most of all, I need time to say goodbye, as well as hopefully head back to Rue Mouffetard, my favourite rue in all of Paris... I'll go there and I'll feel awful. I felt the same way leaving the group in Kolkata for Goa, the lurch in my stomach when the plane took off strangely mimicked the feelings I was going through, intensifying them. Like I was being torn away. Terrible feeling. I suppose I should not travel to nice places.

Monday

India Unplugged

November-December 2006

"If you visit India for a day, you can write a book. If you visit for a week, you can write a few lines. If you stay a month, you cannot write a word." (Vivek, our group leader- he "read it somewhere")
The group at the Red Fort, Agra

Taj Mahal at sunset

Lake Pushkar, Pushkar

Ghats of Varanasi

Desert lake in Jaiselmer

Lisa and I at the Taj early in the morning

Sarah, Jenna, Lisa, Andy, Tara and I on the last day in Kolkata

About to board an overnight train in Agra for Varanasi

Sunrise over the Ganges in Varanasi (view from hotel)

School childern at the School for the deaf in Udaipur

The only temple to Lord Brahma in India, Pushkar

Temple on Lake Pichola, Udaipur

The search for bangles in Pushkar

View from my balcony in Jaiselmer

Camel safari in the Great Thar Desert

The Spice Markets, Delhi

At I-India, a charity organisation for abused and neglected children in Jaipur

Bangkok and the floating markets


Gold-leafed archway to a school in Bangkok

Sellers on the floating markets, 90 mins outside of Bangkok

More produce

Billy looking "ridiculously goood-looking" in a Thai hat

Standing Buddha

Floating commerce, Billy buys bananas (cheap!)

My coffee fix at Starbucks (I was desperate), escaping the heat and crazy Koh San Road to keep the journal up-to-date

Hats for sale on the floating markets

Chiang Mai, the hill tribes & the Loy Kratong festival



Local handicrafts in the Karen village

November 2006

"Last hill" said Mr Dong, our local guide, encouragingly as we braced oursleves for what looked like the most soul-defeating climb yet. Trekking in the hills around Chiang Mai in the north of Thailand had been described as requiring a "moderate level of fitness," that the walk would simply wind its way through rice paddies and sloping farmland- there had been no mention that a good part of this trek would have challenged Tenzing. In 30 degrees+ humid and muddy conditions with heavy packs we sang, gossiped, riddled, swore and complained- anything to keep from turning around and going back. We stop once in a while, if only to reapply insect repellant in a mostly unsuccessful attempt to ward off hungry insects. This "torture" however, would only be short-lived. With every incline there is a summit, with every blister comes the wonderful relief of taking off your boots, at the end of every day there is a Thai dinner ready and waiting, a swim in cool clear rivers and the gentle and rhythmic sounds of waterfalls lulling us to dream-filled sleep. We would often go to bed at 7.30pm and luckily slept well on the bamboo slats under mosquito nets, as there was always a temporally-disoriented rooster sounding the wake-up call, sometimes as early as 4am!

We visited the Karen hill tribe. The Karen people, also known as the Yang or Kariang, live simply and now farm rice, herbs and vegetables instead of opium poppies- due to government incentives, and in the last two years, bans. Many have "converted" to Christianity if only to gain access to education for their children, but also continue to practice their traditional animist spirituality, revering nature and mountain ghosts. The children sang and in return we deep-fried some omlettes, a treat, and gave one to each child. This felt uncomfortable in a way, the children lining up for food handed out by strange foreigners, but with groups like ours passing through once per week I suppose they have encoroprated this context into their "list of things to do each Sunday." I hope they know that it is them, not the feigned altruistic element, that gives us pleasure.

Each morning the villagers would cover trees and fences in handicrafts- colourful scarves, bags, clothing and jewellery- hoping to make a little from the tourists who flash their cameras and mobile phones. There is so much poverty here, so much that is needed, but the Karen people never want for simple pleasures- the beauty of the landscape, the simplicity of a subsistance lifestyle, the collectiveness and mutual cooperation of the tribe.

"Last hill" had not exactly been accurate, but we were fast approaching the end of the trek, and while a sense of relief inescapedly washed over the group, there was also a sense of regret. The days had been strenuous but full, complete with a very touristy elephant ride and bamboo rafting, but it would be the hill tribe people, and our energetic and humble local guides and porters we would miss most.

Mr Dong and Jiab, our group leader, met us in Chiang Mai on the last night for Loy Kratong, a week-long annual celebration in Thailand to fuel good luck, education and insight. The lights (lanterns, fireworks, candles) symbolise this insight but also create a city that is electric! Bungers regularly crack under our feet, and perhaps more worryingly, under the tires of precariously balanced motorbikes. The entire city is out to watch the parade full of floats and pageants, and out to light large paper lanterns which float into the stratosphere creating a new, alien solar system. We bought floating wreaths made from coconut husks and banana leaves, covered in flowers, incense and candles and launched them into the river, the waterway burning with thousands of these offerings.

The overnight train to Bangkok the next day was rocky, long and the restaurant carriage- well lets just say I felt like I was in a very seedy gentleman's club- but we entertained ourselves with card games and tricks, books and iPods, and the time passed quickly. We slept a little and arrived to the shock of steamy, smoggy Bangkok at 6am. We had a "last breakfast" as a group and ended our northern Thailand adventure with the promise of emailing each other our photos and keeping in touch a little.


Some of the group at the Loy Kratong festival

Karen children

Ahh.. a well needed swim and bath

Karen people meet us to sell handicrafts

The group, Mr Dong and porters (Dree & "Superman")

Market food in Chiang Mai- Mmm-mmm

Elephant riding (I'm second from right)

Burning river at Loy Kratong festival

Jiab and I eating a bamboo worm (fried with chilli)

Launching my floating wreath

Friday

Four stupid monkeys



Four stupid monkeys thought it would be a good idea to drink tequila. Outcome? Never. Drinking. Again. Plus we nearly got beaten up by these wild Scottish girls whom Trace told where to go. We were saved by an adrenaline-fueled taxi driver who whisked us away faster than we could say "step on it!" and laughed so hard that Im sure the driver was about to say "Are you girls heading back to St. Vincent's Psych Unit then?" Narrow escapes came in more ways than one, a wonder we are out alive and in one piece really.

Thursday

Lisa it's your birthday, happy birthday Lisa!















After carefully negotiating the stairs down to the toilets (three flights so steep someone mentioned hiring a sherpa) we would get to the rooftop and collapse into our waiting drinks. Drinking this night was for the purposes of rehydration I tell you! We were thirtsy!! Lisa, as always, looked amazing though also dehydrated from the workout.

Saturday night was Lis' birthday at the Beauchamp Hotel. Great venue, great people, some dancing at the end. I snuck into H & R's place (Block?) early in the morning, unsuccesful in my efforts to be quiet. They said they didnt hear me, kind people. Thanks for a great night guys!

Mountains, Mega fauna & Moo games





A weekend in the Blue Mountains is always a weekend well spent. There is always a bushwalk, always a log fire, always great food and wine, always a search through some antique stores and always a reluctance to leave. This time there was also some close encounters with unusually large-sized native animals (modern-day Mega Fauna) including a blue tongue lizard, a wombat and yabbies that made us think there must be something in the water. On a search for the glow worm tunnel, we did not find any glow worms, or a tunnel, but came across some suprisingly named "ruins"- really just the remains of a not-so-old shale mine near Lithgow. More exciting than the ruins (thank Christ) was the drive that day. On perhaps Australia's most corrogated unsealed roads we took city cars to their limits, cringing and bracing with every bump. It was too hot not to have the windows down, but doing so almost certainly meant the interior of the car became filled with dust, making it impossible to breath. The Moo game, a great game, happily started forcing us to take our minds off the conditions. The aim is to moo so loudly outside the car window that resident cows look up from their grassy meals. The number of cows you can get to turn their heads from all the mooing decides the winner. Genius.

Thank you, as always, to Niel for inviting us up to his beautiful Blackheath home and no-longer-so-secret garden.