We’ve come a long way…

I didn’t realize until I got home just how many faithful readers we had of the blog, and by that time I’d done such a poor job in maintaining a flow that I figured I may as well just give up. However, in an effort to summarize the remainder of our trip for the sake of completeness, I’ll take a moment to catch up.

We returned home on April 11 after 268 days on the road and, as it did after our previous trip, it took about 37 seconds for everyone to get used to us again and have the last 9 months of our lives forgotten except for those moments at home when we are so, so glad to have shared it all with each other. Unfortunately it takes a bit longer than 37 seconds for us to get back on our feet, but we’re extremely lucky to have a network of family and friends that are making that transition as smooth as possible- so thanks to all for that.

Anyway, going back…

On leaving the sacred ground of Byron Bay we worked our way further up the east coast of Australia with stops at Surfer’s Paradise (just to say we did), Bundaberg (just to drink the rum), Hervey Bay (to catch a ferry to the amazing sand dune in the sea known as Fraser Island), and finally Airlie Beach (to catch a pirate ship out to the infamous Whitsunday Islands and Great Barrier Reef). Despite consistently unfavourable weather we managed to enjoy some pretty spectacular moments on Australia’s east coast. A real highlight (other than the rum liqueur- Jim, you’d better be saving some for me…) was witnessing the hatching of a nest of loggerhead turtles and creating a lit pathway to the ocean for them. After the hatching, the scientists “excavate” the nest to study the success rate of the hatching (they have previously counted the number of eggs laid) and I was lucky enough to get to carry a straggler down to the shoreline by hand! We even were more lucky to witness a nesting event later in the evening- due to the seasonal cycle for the turtles its pretty rare to get to see both a laying and a hatching at the same time. It was a long night with quite a crowd and some pretty “holier than thou” scientists, but still an amazing experience that erased our frustration of striking out earlier on the west coast at Ningaloo.

Once we finally arrived in Airlie Beach we managed to secure our space on a 100+ year old wooden sailing ship named Solway Lass. She was a classic boat with all the pirate rigging and charm of a boat that has many stories to tell. Again, the weather fought us the whole time, but we still had a great time swinging on the Tarzan rope, celebrating Linda’s birthday, and ray hunting on the infamous Whitsunday beach. After disembarking the boat we spent our last night in Airlie Beach before our flight back to Sydney where we had 2 days to pack in a weeks worth of activities before closing the book on Australia. Little did we know, until about 3am that morning at least, that Jim had other things in store for us. Long story short- what had been about a week’s worth of stomach pain and indigestion for Jim manifested itself that night causing us to make our first stop in Sydney the Emergency Room at the Royal Prince Alfred Hospital. It was a shock for us all to learn that Jim wouldn’t be leaving that hospital for another 2 weeks, and a little lighter in the guts after having a substantial piece of bowel cancer removed. The diagnosis and treatment of the cancer took barely over 16 hours, and Jim’s recovery was amazingly fast allowing him to get back to Canada after about 10 days of healing in Sydney. The two Public Service Announcements that come from this are: have your colonoscopies regularly, and the health care and treatment at Sydney’s RPA Hospital is wonderful, fast, efficient, thorough, and caring in all ways.

Due to the unexpected turn of events in Sydney, Cam and I delayed our flight to New Zealand for a few days so that we could make sure both parents were taken care of as best we could, and settled comfortably in until they would be able to get back to Canada. We eventually flew to Auckland on March 3 where we rendezvoused with Adam, who had arrived a few days earlier and was spending his time with family north of Auckland in Redbeach. And by “spending time” I really mean “eating copious amounts of lamb”.

Not wanting to waste any time, we had a quick visit with the Smith’s (our family there), grabbed the Kombi and Adam, and headed out into the pouring rain. After a supply run to Pak ‘n Save we found a ridiculously overpriced campsite, visited like idiots until it was dark and pouring rain, and then headed out to set up Adam’s tent. Lesson learned that night- arrive before dark, and setup immediately when its not raining. It wasn’t the most inspiring start to a road trip, but we are a robust crew and persevered! Over the next three weeks we zigzagged across both islands trying to show Adam the best of what we’d seen on our previous visit, while also cramming in new experiences for us all.

On the North Island we tried our hand at digging our own hot water pool on the Coromandel Peninsula (unsuccessful, yet again), enjoyed a traditional Hangi feast and concert in Rotorua (meat and potatoes cooked underground- how can you go wrong?), sampled wines and art-deco architecture in Napier, toured the Tui Brewery (three free beers each at 10am…), and eventually made it to Wellington where Adam had a Weta tour and we spent a day trying to fit in the entirety of the amazing (and free) Te Papa museum. On that day the Japanese tsunami hit and New Zealanders were warned to stay off the beaches, especially on the northern tip of the South Island- just exactly the place we were headed to the next day. By ferry. Perfect :)

After arriving in Picton on the South Island we headed west toward Nelson to arrange our adventure into Abel Tasman National Park- a must do on all NZ itineraries. Deciding to save our kayaking trip for Fjordland, we instead booked a water taxi so that we could view the park from the coast, and then walk back through it on the Abel Tasman Coastal Track. To maximize efficiency, we booked that journey for a few days ahead, and pushed on with the van to the very northern tip of the island- a place we’d not managed to reach on our previous trip. The tip of the island is called Farewell Spit, and the nearby Wharariki Beach is easily one of the most beautiful places in the entire country. We felt really lucky to get all the way there this time and loved spending time taking in the stunning views in every direction, and in every weather condition. We returned south to Kaiteriteri to catch our water taxi and enjoyed the hike south through the park- it was nice to see the park from this vantage point, rather than just by water as we had done before. A wicked dinner of shark ‘n chips capped off a great day, despite being ravaged by sandflies the entire time. After departing Abel Tasman we headed up and over to the west coast of the island where we were forced to pull over regularly to capture the rugged beauty of New Zealand’s west (and, like home, wet) coast. Though the blowholes of Punakiki weren’t really blowing, its still a beautiful place and unique to anywhere else we’ve seen. We pressed on to Fox and Franz Josef glaciers where we “enjoyed” a 45 minute walk each way in the freezing sleet to get up close and personal with the ice. By the time we reached camp we were soaked to the bone, but fortunately the weather had broken and we managed to have a dry night, and an amazing meal cooked on the grill. The weather continued to be off and on as we headed south, finally making it to Wanaka where the sun started to shine over the lake and the mountains and scenery really reminded us just how amazingly beautiful a country New Zealand is. We spent a day hiking the Rob Roy Valley track which afforded us with stunning views of glaciers and mountains and, for even more sightseeing, Adam opted for a “fly yourself” tour over the local area. Too steep for our budget, we enjoyed watching him take off and land… We headed out of Wanaka and on to Queenstown, with a stop at Kawarau Bridge to watch the bungy jumpers, and another at Arrowtown to enjoy the quaint main street and candy store (where I finally found Walkers toffee after being disappointed in Nepal!). We made it to Queenstown where we camped on the shores of 12 Mile Delta and enjoyed the beauty of the Remarkables. Although we didn’t partake in any of Queenstown’s crazy (and expensive) adventure activities, we did partake in Fergburger- after finding it based on the following recommendation: “It’s the place where all the people are.” Turns out that’s all the direction you need! Not sure if the burgers are worth ALL the hype, but they were certainly plenty good, and large. Ask Adam for his personal review… We used the booking resources of Queenstown to arrange our next adventure- a kayaking trip in the hard to reach Doubtful Sound. The south-western side of New Zealand is known as Fjordland and is pretty inaccessible to even the most serious adventurer. The main exception to that is Milford Sound which is a stunning and beautiful fjord (a narrow, steep walled inlet in the ocean that was carved by a glacier) into which 99% of the tourists venture (including us on our last visit). This time, however, we opted for Doubtful Sound which is, so far, less busy but equally amazing. We arranged a one day kayaking trip where we were three of a group of eight, plus our guide Luke- whose MEC jacket and Haida designed wooden bear paddle reflected his recent job working off the coast of Vancouver Island. Although it can rain up to 11m per year in Doubtful Sound we had an absolutely gorgeous day and enjoyed an amazing paddling experience. Although they claim that the rainy days are “some of the best” (due to the millions of waterfalls that appear) we were pretty happy with our sun, with the dolphins that swam under our boat, and the small channels we got to explore. Even the sandflies were kept at bay for the most part by our wetsuits and safety gear. A night back at one of our favourite campsites and a viewing of Hot Tub Time Machine wrapped up one of our best days in New Zealand.
From Te Anau (the gateway town to Doubtful Sound, population 45 or so) we headed “cross country” and crossed the entire expanse of the country in a whopping 4 hours, arriving in Dunedin with hopes of connecting with Brian and Diane. Considering we gave them zero advanced notice of our arrival, we were happy to find them home and willing to accept us for the night. We had dinner together and once again enjoyed the magic that is connecting with family- no matter how distant. As our days were drawing rapidly to a close we had to head out the next morning and, in our haste, left our maps on Brian’s table where he had helped us plan our route. After about 15 minutes of driving we realized our mistake and pulled over to retrace our steps- and there was Brian who had been tailing us the whole way maps in hand! Good thing the Kombi is easy to spot, as we’d never have noticed him behind us.

Our destination for that day was Mt. Cook (Aoraki) and Brian figured we could reach it by 2:00pm. Well, factoring in a stop at the Moeraki Boulders and having two obsessive photogs in the car, we actually reached camp at 7pm- although the drive was well worth the slower pace as the weather and views were gorgeous the entire way. We found the camp overrun with young school children, but nestled the van into a spot in the trees that gave us by far the best campsite view we’ve ever had- looking down the valley at Mt. Cook- where we could enjoy it at both sunset and sunrise. We had a great meal of NZ meat pies (there’s meat in it!) and shared with two German girls who had been travelling the country for 6 months together after only meeting each other in Auckland. Considering they’d travelled pretty much every road in the country, we took their advice to visit the Clay Cliffs the following day- despite the fact that it was a 30 minute back track for us. However, before heading that way we drove right up to Mt. Cook and started part of the 4 hour hike up the Hooker Valley. Pressed for time, we weren’t able to complete the hike, but went far enough to round the bend and get the view of the valley and glacier anyway- which was certainly worth the effort. Retracing our steps, and then our roads, we back tracked to the Clay Cliffs which are a series hoodoo-like formations caused by clay cliffs being eroded by wind and rain over the years. The lighting was perfect, and the scene was desolate except for us, so it was a very cool experience. On our way out we left our $5 entrance fee in the yoghurt pot nailed to the post, in true NZ fashion. When you find $75 cash in a pot on a fence post in the middle of nowhere and realize that people continue to add, while nobody seems to be taking, you know you’re somewhere special.

With the clock ticking ever faster we had to push on as far as possible that day, taking a quick break for the oh-so-photogenic Church of the Good Shepherd at Lake Tekapo. We managed to get to Christchurch that night and, knowing that there wouldn’t be any sightseeing there due to the recent devastating earthquake, we caught a quick sleep and headed out early again to press on to our ferry the following day. We did manage to squeak in some seal spotting en route to the ferry- not a huge novelty for BC West Coasters, but fun nonetheless. After disembarking the ferry in Wellington at 5pm we continued the push north, hoping to cover as much ground as possible to make the final leg to Auckland short the following day. With a “quick” stop at Hell’s Pizza to introduce Adam to the NZ institution, we kept on driving, and driving, and driving. With the boys sharing the wheel, and some nightmare-ish weather to keep us on alert, we finally pulled into Taupo at about midnight in the pouring rain, with all intentions of finding a cheap hotel to spend the night. Well, it turns out that Taupo, though a bustling tourist town during daylight hours, is not full of budget-open-all-night hotels. Shocking… After trying a few places and learning that our lowest price was going to be $120 for about 8 hours of sleep, we opted to screw that and pulled into a rest stop just out of town. We squeezed Adam’s mattress onto the floor under our bed in the van where he slept in the fetal position for the night and, despite the irritating mosquitoes, we survived surprisingly well and with an extra $120 in our pockets. My favourite part of these late night road-side stops is waking up in the morning to find four other vehicles tucked in beside you that you hadn’t seen the night before. A stop at McDonalds for the bathroom and an Egg McMuffin refuel was all we needed to get us going for the final leg to Red Beach where we would spend our last two nights with Adam and the McCabe family, enjoying true NZ hospitality. Finally it was time to take Adam to the airport (at 4am no less) and we carried on back to our own family in Pukekohe where we had another 5 days to kill before our budget flight to Tahiti. Fortunately Steven was home for a couple of days before having to fly off to London, and then Helen took good care of us while we mostly just ate and slept- turns out 9 months of travelling is pretty exhausting! With stops at about 3 Icebreaker outlet stores under our belts it was time for us to head off on our final leg.

Cam has been dreaming about Tahiti ever since he was a kid, and this was the trip that was supposed to convert that dream to a reality. Realistically, there is no better time to visit Tahiti than on a flight between NZ and Vancouver. We managed to find flights that let us stop there for about $300 less than flying straight home so, despite the cost of actually being IN Tahiti, the stopover was a no-brainer. And, in case you didn’t know (as we didn’t), “Tahiti” is actually only the name of a single island in the series of islands that comprise the actual country of “French Polynesia”. There are several islands, not all of which are populated, but Tahiti is the largest and most populous and therefore has sort of become the namesake for the entire country. However, for tourists, Tahiti is not a place to stop for long. Although the Hollywood Stars all head directly to Bora Bora, the flight there and accommodation pricing once you arrive were far to steep for our backpacker budget, so we opted for the island of Moorea- accessible by a 30 minute ferry ride instead. Our flight arrived in Papeete (the main city on Tahiti) too late to catch a ferry, so we bunked in at the airport hotel and headed out to find dinner- which ended up to be a massive plate of steak and chips served from a roulette- essentially the back of a trailer parked on the side of the road. Classic Tahitian fare :) The following day we attempted to grocery shop prior to heading to the smaller island of Moorea where we figured groceries would sky rocket in price. However, being a Sunday, it was difficult to find anything open and we ended up buying our supplies at an amazingly well stocked Shell gas station- and we certainly weren’t the only people doing so! We caught our ferry, and then our shuttle to our beachside bungalow of Linareva, and settled in to our Tahitian holiday. Despite choosing “budget” accommodation, we were still paying a factor of 8-10x the price of anywhere else we‘d been, so we made our savings by eating in our well equipped kitchenette for three meals a day. Linareva offered free bicycles so we enjoyed peddling to the local store and filling our basket with supplies- although fresh food was pretty limited so we were trying to be creative with canned beans and pasta sauce…

Our time on Tahiti was intended to be a “relaxing” finale for us before heading home to the hustle and bustle of “real life”. Unfortunately for us we’re not terribly skilled at slowing down while travelling, so it took a day of lying guiltily in the hammock before we really grew comfortable with the concept. The next day of lying in the hammock was much better- practice really does make perfect! Despite the slowing down, we did manage to ride our single gear bicycles about 30km around much of the island, and took the kayaks out to the reef for some crystal clear snorkelling. On one day we rented a scooter so we could completely circumnavigate the island, including a trip up to the spectacular lookout, and were shocked and appalled to be paying about $60 for the privilege. For that price in India you can pretty much BUY the scooter!

Finally the days ran out and it was time to head home. Due to some miscommunication, we had about 20 minutes to convert from lounging lazily in our bungalow to being fully packed, paid, and in our taxi for the trip back to Papeete and then several hours to kill before our night flight to LA. With a stop at LAX where we had lunch at Burger King and remembered what a “large” pop looks like in North America, it was time for the final, final, final leg. Arriving early in YVR let us have time to get some Canadian cash from the ATM (who’s that lady on the $20?!) and buy ourselves a Tim Horton’s donut before Adam arrived to pick us up. Ah, to be home… About 2 hours after landing we were sitting in an ice rink, in our shorts and flip flops, watching Adam’s hockey game. We really are still Canadian :)

So, there you have it- our nine months in a few nutshells. Like anything you do in life, it was a time full of amazing experiences that cover the whole spectrum from good, to bad, to ugly. Will we do it again? Probably not. But we’ve said that before… Would we take it back? Not a second of it. These trips are what help define us, who we are, what we believe, and how we treat the world in which we live. They cannot be summarized in a few short sentences, no matter how much people would like us too. There are moments that we can’t even put to words- they are simply emotions in our bank to be drawn upon and remembered. Some people think we’ve been crazy to spend so much money on trips like these, and other people seem to regret not doing exactly the same thing. The truth is that now, as we hunt for a place to live, perhaps having that excess cash would be handy, but as we sift through the photos we know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it was worth every penny.

Thanks for reading.
Kristin and Cam.

So, it’s not all rose coloured glasses!

So, obviously my last post was pretty effusive about the wonders of Australia- and it was all totally honest and fair. However, in the 5 weeks that have passed since then we have been reminded that of course even Australia has it’s downsides. Like excessive heat. And, this year in particular, excessive rain. Who knew…?!

Our time in Esperance was lovely and cool- in the wind and out of the direct sun it felt almost too cool. Even once we left there and headed across the Nullarbor (literally “null arbor”, as in “without trees“) we found it cool and comfortable, despite the rumours that it would be brutal and potentially life threateningly hot if we were to have a breakdown and not be prepared with enough water. Heeding the warnings, we packed 45L of drinking water, plus ensured the 35L tank in the van was topped up. We checked all the fluid levels in the van, double checked the tire pressure, and headed out being careful to gas up at almost every stop we came across- on this stretch of road there are no towns, only Road Houses offering food, fuel, a place to sleep and other essential services, and populations of 7 or 12 (not including kangaroos). However, the weather never really heated up and by the time we made it across the 2500+ km expanse three days later we were asking ourselves… when does it get hot? The question was soon to be answered- we stocked up with provisions in Port Augusta and then drove about 2 hours north until we reached Woomera (some sort headquarters for British rocket and nuclear experiments in the 50s) and when we hopped out of the air conditioned van to secure our campsite we realized- this is when it gets hot. And, when it gets REALLY hot is about 350km further north in Coober Pedy where it was 43C in the shade in the late afternoon. Cooper Pedy is the opal mining capital of Australia, and the supplier of most of the world’s opal. Before an opal mine is started, a series of test holes are drilled- apparently there are 2.5 million of these holes in the area surrounding the town, and for each hole is a cone of dirt that had been augered out by hopeful miners looking for traces of their ticket to retirement. Because of the ridiculous summer temperatures (and for that matter, the cold winters), more than 50% of Coober Pedy residents live in dugout homes- literally dug into the ground or hillsides to regulate the temperature year round. After visiting an underground mine, as well as three underground churches where we lingered a little longer than our faith might otherwise have led us to, it was clear that this was a good idea. Unfortunately for us our campsite was not underground, and we spent the night sponging ourselves down and watching the temperature slowly drop to 35C. At this point, the fridge in our van had simply crawled into the corner to cry, and we had to modify our food storage practices.

From Cooper Pedy we drove a further 750km north to reach Yulara- the artificial town whose only function is to service tourists who are visiting Uluru and Kata Tjuta (Ayer’s Rock and the Olgas). After arriving in the late afternoon we set off to watch our Uluru sunset. Eventually we caught on that the time had changed when we crossed the border into the Northern Territory, so we enjoyed an extra hour of sunlight before the magic happened! I don’t know if I can claim that sunset at Uluru was as magical and spectacular as the hype leads you to believe, however it was certainly beautiful and I know that the lighting and conditions would vary every single night to make it a different experience every time and for every one. I think for me, my first sighting of the rock was more breathtaking than the sunset itself- it had never been on my “must see” list until we got within striking range, but the first time you come around the corner and see it really is quite special. It has a similar peace to it that we found at the Taj Mahal. We spent our days at Yulara waking up at 5:00am to see the sun rise at Uluru and the following morning at Kata Tjuta, and then trying to get some hiking in before the sun really became relentless. It turned out to be futile as the sun was relentless as soon as it broke over the horizon, so we had to sweat out the Uluru Base Walk, and the Kata Tjuta Valley of the Winds Walk in the high 30s anyway. While climbing Uluru is still open to the public, the traditional “owners” of Uluru (the Anangu people) request that you don’t as it is a sacred route climbed by their ancestral men, not to mention dangerous. We honoured that request and chose to enjoy the rock from the ground only- with so many different angles and times of day to view it, that’s already a lot to do. By lunch time we had to resort to frequent cold showers and limited movement to survive. One afternoon we used the time to catch up on some laundry and save on dryer costs- by the time we hung the last item on the line, the first items were already dry. As the sun started its descent again we could venture back out to watch the sunset and then simply lie and wait for the mercury to drop (which, for the record, it doesn’t do). After two nights in Yulara, and about $20 worth of Icy Poles consumed, we were relieved to start heading south again, although with such a distance to cover we knew we’d have to tough out one more night in the brutal heat of Coober Pedy. We finally made it back to Port Augusta where 30 degrees literally had us in long sleeves, and we slept soundly for the first night in many. We knew that our next destination, Parachilna in the Flinders Ranges, also had the potential to be wickedly hot and we were nervous to subject ourselves to that again. Seeking advice at the local information booth we learned that in fact almost all the walks around that area were closed due to the extreme heat- we were relieved to have learned that the easy way :) So, instead of heading back into the outback we started a slow meander along the coast toward Adelaide and eventually to Melbourne.

Although nothing along that stretch really records on our Amazing Australia list, there were plenty of neat towns and nice beaches to fill the days until we met Jim and Linda at the Melbourne Airport on February 4. Perhaps they brought the Canadian weather with them, or perhaps the cyclones from Australia’s east coast drifted over to us, but either way it was the beginning of some four letter word weather. After trading up our camper van for a Toyota Kluger, and settling into our South Yarra hotel, we headed out for a short walk to a restaurant for dinner. About 30 seconds into the walk the skies opened in a unbelievable deluge. We attempted to shelter ourselves until we realized it was fruitless, and then stood marvelling at flash floods that were pouring down the road around our legs. At the bottom of the hill the water was 3 feet deep within ten minutes, and a VW bug that was parked at the lowest point was floating gently in its spot. Cars that either couldn’t tell the depth of the water, or were simply unintelligent, were plunging into the water only to stall out and need to be pushed to safety by a couple of generous pedestrians. The waves caused by those cars were causing the flood waters to pour into the local businesses lining the streets. It was all quite humorous to watch, but I imagine the insurance claims won’t be so funny. After returning to our hotel with some pizza we found that Jim and Linda’s room had flooded (on the 5th floor no less) which was a pretty ironic welcome to the country…

We spent two more days in Melbourne, trying to sightsee while dodging rain showers and wind storms which marred the experience slightly, although it was enough to see that Melbourne is a great city- much like Vancouver in that “fabulous place to live if you’re fabulously wealthy” kind of way… We left Melbourne and headed west to drive the Great Ocean Road- a 250km stretch of road that is considered the world’s largest war memorial as it was built to honour Australia’s fallen heroes. The road starts at Torquay which is basically the surfing capital of Australia, and Bells Beach which is the most renowned surfing beach in the country (and not actually named after me). From there it’s a winding road with beautiful ocean views, many chances to spot koalas perched in eucalyptus trees, multiple lighthouses, tonnes of beaches and, eventually, the 12 Apostles- giant limestone peaks that have eroded away from the main cliffs, and now stand as solitary sentinels in the water. We reached them late in the day so we had a first look, and the following morning Cam and I went back to catch them again in the morning sun and without the crowds. It’s a beautiful stretch of coastline, and the 12 Apostles (of which only 6 real ones remain) are only a part of it. Areas named The Grotto, Loch Ard Gorge, London Bridge, and The Bay of Martyrs, all make for stunning views and good photography. It took us three days to finish the road, and then we turned back for Melbourne to hit the Yarra Valley for some wine tasting and a visit to the Healesville Sanctuary- a highly recommended stop for anyone in the area as you can get up close and personal with Australia’s native wildlife without the clutter of traditional zoo exhibits which jam every sort of animal from every corner of the planet into the same park. BTW- how long do you think a platypus is? Turns out not to be 4 feet, as I had thought… A full grown platypus is only about 1 foot long! And Tasmanian Devils don’t look anything like the Looney Tunes guy… See how much we’re learning?!

It was in the Yarra Valley that the rain returned, and continued… As we worked our way east toward Sydney we kept waiting for the Vancouver-gray skies to break and for sweet, beautiful Australia to return. Days passed and we were still wrapped in our rain coats, trapped inside only dreaming of the beaches at our fingertips. We camped on the shores of Botany Bay (where Cook first anchored, before he discovered a much better harbour a bit further north- Sydney Harbour) in a dingy and overpriced cabin, frustrated by the relentless rain. Fortunately, an excellent meal at a local Thai restaurant helped finish the day on a positive note. We left Sydney (we’d be back) by driving over the Sydney Harbour Bridge and glimpsing the Opera House, and pressed on further north passing through many neat towns, trying to find breaks in the weather to have beachside lunches. Finally we arrived at Byron Bay where the sky started to break open and we finally, FINALLY, made it to a beach and dug our toes into the sand. Cam’s suggestion to try an apartment style hotel rather than a cabin in a holiday park turned out to be a huge win, and we settled into a gorgeous two bedroom apartment that seduced us into staying for three days in Byron Bay. The town itself, the beaches fringing it on all sides, and the stately lighthouse marking the most easterly point in the whole country all add up to a wonderful Australian highlight. Although the weather was by no means perfect, the sun:cloud ratio finally was in our favour, and we enjoyed 3 days of relaxation.

From here we head further north to hopefully get ourselves on Fraser Island and onto a sailboat to explore the Great Barrier Reef, and then we fly back to Sydney to finish up our Australian adventure before flying to New Zealand on the 28th. On that note- what’s the capital of Australia? Sydney, you say, right? Nope, it’s Canberra.

An update “Oz by numbers” for the rest of the trip with the campervan:

As of February 4:
Trip odometer: 12406.4 km
Fuel price, $/L (min/max): 1.22/1.84
Total spent on fuel: $2402
Average fuel economy of van (with full a/c): 7.56km/L
Average nightly cost for camping: $24.32 (max = $40, min = $0)
Number of consecutive days where temperature never dropped below 33C: 5
Maximum temperature recorded: 43.8C
Number of km of dirt roads on which we “didn’t” drive (as per our rental contract): ~500
Maximum number of consecutive meals eaten at McDonalds: 3 (it was for the free wi-fi, though…)
Number of places to buy Havaiana (rubber) flip flops: one metric zillion
Number of places to buy fabric flip flops: -1
Longest straight stretch of road driven on: 146.6km
Number of times Bruno Mars’ “Grenade” plays on the radio, per hour: 3
Number of flies Cam flicked to death in a 5 minute span: 9 (kill ratio = 100%)
Number of flies caught in mid air by Cam: 2 (they were then released, and flicked to death)

Until next time…
K and C.

How ya goin’, Mate?

Ah... sweet, beautiful Australia… how lovely to meet you… can we be friends forever? I’m not sure if it’s the impact of hitting somewhere like Australia directly after 5½ months of travel in more difficult lands, or if we would have felt the same way regardless, but Australia was exactly the breath of fresh air that we needed- both literally and figuratively :)

We arrived in Perth on Christmas Eve and as we started to push our luggage cart across a crosswalk at the airport we both flinched as an approaching car neared and then… slowed down and stopped for us! We both looked at each other stunned, and then laughed about how such a simple thing could feel so foreign! We then proceeded to drive 30 minutes to Vicki and Bruce’s house and there wasn’t a single horn honk to be heard. These joys were counter balanced by the fact that it was 39 degrees outside but hey, you can’t have it all… We spent Christmas with Bruce and Vicki (Vicki’s Dad is cousins with Cam’s Gran), Keely (their daughter), and Riley (son of our NZ contingent) and spent most of the day hiding from the 40 degree temperatures and enjoying drinking from the tap. After dinner we went for a Christmas swim and simply could not get enough of the gorgeous sand, the crystal clear water, and the sense of peace that comes with it all.

We spent 3 more days with the Tunnicliffe’s and thoroughly enjoyed feeling “at home”. We managed to fit in a beach visit with Casey, a friend we’d met in Tibet and who had just returned home to Australia himself. On the 29th we packed up our van and cautiously headed north- we knew the temperatures would only get worse, plus there had been flooding closing some key roads, but we planned to go until we no longer could and then return back through Perth to eventually head east to Melbourne.

The first couple of days were reasonable- hot during the day, but the constant breeze kept things bearable in the van at night. We explored the Pinnacles near Cervantes, and the amazing coastal cliffs in Kalbarri. We planned to hike around the gorges of the inland part of Kalbarri National Park, but temperatures reaching the mid 40s kept our walks to 20 minutes or less. From Kalbarri we drove further north to Denham, Shark Bay, where we walked amongst stromatolites (ancient organisms which release oxygen and are basically responsible for life as we know it), swam at the gorgeous but frustratingly shallow Shell Beach (a beach made of only tiny cockle shells- 10m deep in some places), watched wild dolphins come to shore to be fed at Monkey Mia (they are wild, but hand fed- you can read about it), stood on a boardwalk and watched sharks swim in the crystal clear waters well below us, and almost killed an emu when a posse of eight made some suicidal moves across the road in front of us.

It was also in Shark Bay where two things happened: we rang in 2011, and the wind stopped. One of these events was far, far more significant than the other… It turned out that the wind that had been our saving grace was in fact the result of a cyclone and not some consistent daily event (as with the Freemantle Doctor in Perth). With no breeze to battle the excessive heat, the van became an oven at night- our thermometer was registering minimum temperatures of 35 degrees. After a long night where we had both the sliding door and back door of the van wide open and still got no mercy, we headed for the nearest town and bought ourselves a fan which made the nights bearable (although not exactly comfortable) and allowed us to continue our journey north. The road north of Shark Bay had been closed due to flooding, but opened just in time for us and we cruised through some serious rain storms to eventually reach Exmouth. Part of that journey had us passing through Carnarvon which was the worst hit area in the flood and it was devastating to see the damage- entire banana crops were ruined, roads were washed out, and businesses had water marks over 3 feet high. As we drove through, the sky was covered in cloud and they glowed pink on the bottom- the gorgeous red earth of the surrounding countryside was now a murky red lake and the reflection on the clouds was quite amazing.

We managed to make it to Exmouth without being struck by lightning or losing a windshield, and we pulled into our campsite to find that it was all but empty. It was clear that we were in the “off season”. Exmouth is the launching point for the Ningaloo Marine Park which boasts the most accessible reef in the world- in many places it’s less than 100m offshore and any rookie with a snorkel can stumble into the water and be immediately rewarded. Combined with it’s accessibility, the reef is said to offer more variety and better viewing than it’s more popular East Coast compatriot- the Great Barrier Reef. One of Ningaloo’s specialties is its coral and the whale sharks that the coral attracts. The whale sharks come every year to feed on plankton and small fish that abound in the coral, and have become a huge tourist draw as they are gentle giants and you can snorkel up close and personal with them. We, however, were not there during whale shark time so had to settle for experiencing the reef without its token mascot. Despite not actually being hugely keen on snorkelling, we did spend many hours in the water and were amazed by the variety of life that was right at our finger tips. At one point we emerged from the water and Crocodile Dundee asked us if we’d seen the sharks? Uh… no… Well, he assured us there were two reef sharks swimming around where we’d just been, and if we went back in we’d surely find them. Amazingly, we donned our gear again and went back into the water to voluntarily search for two reef sharks that were “bigger than me” according to ‘ole Dundee. I was both disappointed and relieved to not find the sharks. We did actually find a reef shark on our final trip into the water (coincidence…?), but he was chilling under a rocky ledge so we gave him a wide berth and carried on. Perhaps the highlight was when we realized we were floating directly overtop a massive ray who was nestled under the cover of sand. Agreeing that he was terrifying, Cam suggested that we depart the area by heading “over here” which was in fact directly toward the shark. That pretty much ended our snorkelling session :) (And for those of you who want to tell me that rays are not dangerous, I have two words for you: Steve. Irwin.)

Besides the marine reserve, the land is also protected as Cape Range National Park and we spent many more hours exploring the land based beauty of the area. Although it was not whale shark time, it was, in fact, turtle nesting time and we spent over 3 hours one night waiting patiently for the turtles to make their way to shore, dig their nests, and lay their eggs under the cover of darkness. Disappointingly we went home without a single sighting, and had to settle for snorkelling with the turtles during the day instead- not a bad consolation prize.

We covered the 1300km return trip between Exmouth and Perth with a stop in Coral Bay, and another in Geraldton after squeaking through a road closure caused by further flooding in the Gascoyne River and Carnarvon region. We spent our evening in Geraldton wandering the impressive (and impressively pricey) waterfront promenade and marvelling at the close interaction the public could have with the active industry there- lobster tour anyone? Thesis topic anyone…?


After spending one last day in Perth to take care of random chores like haircuts and laundry we said our final goodbyes to the Tunnicliffes and headed out again, this time with our sights set on Melbourne and our clock ticking toward February 4 when we must return the van and meet Cam’s parents who are joining us there to tour the eastern half of the country.

We followed the coast from Perth around the south-west “tab” of Australia and found ourselves in a region that Lonely Planet labels as one of the Top 10 Regions to visit in the entire world- and it’s easy to see why. Crammed into a relatively small area, by both Australian and Canadian standards, are a series of amazing beaches, stunning forests, and brilliant “attractions” for people of all ages- wineries/cideries/meaderies (pick your poison), cheese and chocolate factories, arts and crafts galleries, caving tours, bush walks, and the list goes on. The beaches, although not always “swim-able” for the average joe (ie: us), are gorgeously rugged with postcard coloured sand and water and are often mostly deserted (due, most likely, to the not-so-swim-able factor). And of course there are enough beautiful swim-able beaches to keep everyone happy as well. The forests are expansive stands of old growth karri, marri, and jarrah trees- eucalyptus trees that have been the cause of all too familiar “the environmentalist vs. the forestry worker” battles. Luckily for us, in many cases the trees won, and the government has made excellent parks around them which allow for beautiful drives and bushwalks. One highlight is the Tree Top Walk where a 600m suspended boardwalk runs through the tree tops, 40m high in some places, and sways in the breeze to give you the sensation of being “one” with the trees. This walk was marginally less scary than the other highlight of the forest region- climbing the forest fire spotting trees. These are giant karri trees into which spirals of steel spikes have been hammered into the sides creating perhaps the most amazing spiral staircases you’ll ever see. Originally these trees were used as lookout points to spot forest fires in the surrounding area, and now are open to the public to climb with nothing more than a “Climb at Own Risk” sign casually placed at the bottom. We climbed the biggest of the trees and after scampering up to the first level (perhaps 20m off the ground) we began to question whether or not we could reach the top. We persevered, and were rewarded with wonderful views and unfortunately an even scarier descent! With gems like these to find, we spent hours driving the Forest Explorer roads, and wandering the coastlines, never able to turn back because the views and experiences kept getting better and better with every step. One unifying theme in it all, and in all of Australia so far, is the colour. The colours here are more bold, vibrant, and saturated, than anywhere else we’ve ever seen in the world. For that reason alone, we can easily add Australia’s south west to our own personal list of Top 10 Regions in the world to visit.

Leaving the south west behind we headed to our final stop in Western Australia- the ‘come hither’ beaches of Esperance. We’d heard from almost everyone that Esperance was home to Australia’s best beaches- quite a claim for a country of over 7000 named beaches. Arriving in the late afternoon we did a quick 30km Great Ocean Drive loop to check out the claims and it was immediately clear that they were well founded. There are at least 10 beaches within a 15 minute drive of the town center that are all jaw droppingly beautiful. Huge arcs of turquoise water lapping onto pristine white sand, none overcrowded, and not a palapa or tacky souvenir shop to be seen. We spent the next day at Twilight Beach because it was voted “Most Popular Beach in WA” (and because I was hoping to find Edward in Jacob’s body) and then, in case the in-town beaches weren’t enough, we headed 50km east into Cape Le Grand National Park where the beaches get serious. Lucky Bay is officially (scientifically, even) the “Whitest Beach in Australia”, and it literally glows white, Hellfire Bay is surrounded by amazing granite rocks, and Thistle Cove has sand so soft it squeaks like cornstarch under your feet- you simply cannot believe how amazing these beaches are… Easily the best beaches we have ever seen anywhere in the world, far and away. I’ll have to leave it to Cam’s pictures to really tell the story… Aside from the beaches, the rest of the park is gorgeous and walking sections of the 15km trail that connects the beaches feels like walking through a botanical garden from the Jurassic era. It goes without saying that we’re sad to drag ourselves away and head to the hot, fly infested desert of the Outback. But something tells me that Uluru might just be worth the effort… after all Australia hasn’t disappointed us yet…

And now a section called “Oz by numbers” for those who are interested in these sorts of things:

As of January 18:
Trip odometer: 5638.8km
Fuel price, $/L (min/max): 1.22/1.73
Total spent on fuel: $1027
Number of times I don’t get a blank stare when I say “gas” instead of “fuel” or “petrol”: 0
Average fuel economy of van (with full a/c): 7.73km/L
Average nightly cost for a campsite (with power): $28.66
Cost of McDonald’s meal for 2 people: $16.75 (cost of equivalent meal in Canada: $12)
Cost of a National Park pass (unlimited access for 1 month, state of Western Australia only): $40
Average distance between exceptionally clean public toilets: not significant enough to worry about
Cost of kangaroo steak: $15/kg
Cost of avocados, grown approximately 3km from the store: $2.25 each
Cheapest price found for a 600mL Coke: $3.50
Number of times per day you’ll be asked “How ya goin’?”: exactly equal to the number of people you meet
Number of jugs of milk that will go sour before you figure out your fridge can’t handle the heat: 2
Approximate distance between kangaroo carcasses on the roadside: 600m
Largest wingspan of ray spotted while snorkelling: no idea, but it was F.ING.HUGE.
Number of boats named “FishinFarkinDrinkin”: 1

Until next time…
K and C.

Merry Christmas! (and Happy New Year!)

Amazing- two posts in two days! (Yes, there’s another post down there for those of you who don’t check every day…)

This post will be short and sweet- we both just want to wish everybody out there a Merry Christmas- we hope your holidays have already been restful and wonderful, and that there is more rest and wonder-ness left to come. If you’re reading this, chances are that we’re missing you in some way- thanks for reading, and we look forward to seeing you soon!

Oh, and since we’re pretty poor at keeping the blog up to date… Happy New Year in advance :)

Until next time,
K and C.

Incredible India!

Kite Runners
Originally uploaded by camandkristin

** Caveat- this entry is a summary of 6 weeks, and it is long- make yourself a chai and settle in, or skip it altogether… **

Nov 28: Incredible India! That’s the tourism catch phrase for India. It’s on posters all over and it’s probably a fair slogan- this place is Incredible. But not necessarily in the way you expect. Or… maybe in exactly the way you expect. Put “incredible” or “incredibly” in front of pretty much any noun or adjective and you’re probably accurately describing something in India.

We’ve been here for two weeks so far and, since this blog is as much our journal as a broadcast to the masses, I felt I’d better start getting some thoughts down before I lose the currency of our experiences. When we were roughing out the shape of this trip and allotting time to the various countries, we arbitrarily assigned India 6 weeks. It was more than the 4 weeks we’d heard you need to get over the culture shock, and also brought us up to Christmas which seemed like a good time to escape to a more comfortable place. It’s always been a daunting time to me- what if it turned out to be unbearable? Trapped in India for 6 weeks… And now that we’re here, everyday I think to myself “I don’t want to be here until Christmas and yet… we don’t have enough time…” This is the dichotomy of India. Everything is extreme in both directions. Both beautiful and disgusting. Peaceful and chaotic. Full of kindness and lying cheats. Just don’t forget to add “incredibly“…

We started our journey by walking across the Nepalese/Indian border at Sunauli- we’d arrived there from Kathmandu at 4:00pm and weren’t sure how far we wanted to go that night- arriving in India after dark wasn’t our idea of a good time. We decided to at least walk across the border to get our feet on the Indian soil and that’s when we were offered a ride in a Jeep that was heading to our ultimate destination- Varanasi. While the cost was probably about double what the bus/train would have been, it was still only $8 and shaved off at least a day of hassle. It also had us arriving in Varanasi at about 2am. So much for not arriving after dark… The driver phoned ahead to arrange a room for us which was comforting, but we knew we’d have to take whatever it was and pay for it regardless and, as expected, it was… incredible. And not in a good way ;) Needless to say, the next morning we were on the hunt for a new place. Knowing that we wanted to be closer to the Ganges and hopefully have a balcony from which we could watch the riverside activities, we chose a new hotel which had both. Be careful what you wish for- it turned out that we had a front row seat to one of Varanasi’s two main cremation sites. Incredible…

Varanasi is one of the holiest places in India- for a Hindu, dying there releases you from the cycle of re-incarnation allowing you to reach nirvana. The water in the Ganges is used to wash away ones sins, or that pesky ketchup stain on your favourite shirt. It’s also the place to go when you die- either as ashes after cremation or, in the case of infants, pregnant woman, holy men, and a few others, as a complete body with rocks tied to you. The river edge is lined with ghats, which are essentially large staircases that lead from the alleyways above down into the river. The ghats fill with people at all hours of the day and night for the purposes of bathing, laundry, socialising, and of course, cremations. No need for separation- all of these activities take place together in the river. At the ghat outside our room (the smaller of the two burning ghats) there could be as many five cremations happening simultaneously- with 3 more lined up on deck. The process involves weighing and paying for the wood (the cost depends on the type of wood you choose, and most people buy as little as possible as the costs are wildly out of proportion with the average income), building a pyre, washing the body briefly in the Ganges and then placing it onto the pyre, adding more wood on top of the body (no worries if the head and feet stick out), and then lighting it ablaze. It takes a few hours before the process is complete- a crowd (typically only men) watch for a while, but considering it’s essentially a funeral there is no real emotion shown. Eventually the ashes are scooped into the river and another pyre is built. People move around the pyres casually- children play around the waiting bodies, and dogs, goats and other animals mill in and around the fires. It’s hard to even understand one’s own feelings about such a place, let alone try and put words to them. There is a real beauty to the river, the buildings, and the colourful saris draped across the stairs to dry. Watching the devout pilgrims bathing and performing rituals at the rivers edge is humbling. And yet being in Varanasi is… heavy. Coming from a different culture, its hard to reconcile what you’re witnessing with the completely different way that death is handled at home. It certainly opens up a Pandora’s Box of discussion topics…

After three days in Varanasi we were ready to leave the weight of the place behind. We took an overnight train to the small city of Kajuraho- population 20,000 versus Varanasi’s 1.2 million. We spent our time wandering the gorgeously carved Kama Sutra temples, riding bicycles through the countryside, and enjoying the unique experience of an Ayurvedic massage. It would have been easy for the days to slip by there but the Taj Mahal was calling… Faced with a train that would have us arriving at Agra at 2am or a bus ride that arrived at 4:30pm, we opted for the bus. Big mistake. Huge. We rolled into Agra at 9:30pm after a frustrating ride that solidified why everyone talks of train travel in India. These days bus travel makes us want to pack our bags and catch the next flight home…

After a long “why do we do this to ourselves” day, I convinced Cam to put off the 5am wakeup call and save our Taj sunrise visit for the following day. Instead we took in some of Agra’s other main sights- the Agra Fort (where Shah Jahan, the Taj’s creator, was imprisoned by his son for the last 8 years of his life, able only to view his masterpiece from his locked tower), the Baby Taj (a beautiful tomb that is smaller in scale but equal in detail to the Taj), and Metab Bagh (a park on the opposite side of the river to the Taj which affords gorgeous views, especially at sunset). Finally it was time to visit the jewel in India’s crown and, after procuring tickets, we joined the queue at the Taj gate at 6am. We were both worried that we’d potentially ruined our first sight of the building after having seen it from various vantage points the day before but it was not the case- there is probably nothing that can ruin your first “real” view of the Taj Mahal. It truly lives up to the hype and is… incredibly incredible. Being some of the first people in, we were able to enjoy the first few moments without crowds- but even as the day went on and people poured in, the Taj has some magical way of always feeling peaceful. The best way we can find to describe it is that it simply feels like its not a building at all- not an inanimate object, but something that has a soul and a heart beat. You could almost feel it breathe. Odd I know, but I suspect those of you who have been there will know what I mean.

Cut to Dec 14... this post sat idle for more than two weeks and we’ve now spent just over a month in India, with only 9 days left before we close the book on Stage 3. I’ll admit that while we’re excited about the plans for the next 9 days, we are both looking forward to the flight out to a simpler land, one much more reminiscent of home…

Going back… after leaving Agra and the Taj behind we took a quick day trip to the lost city of Fatehpur Sikri, which was once the short lived capital of the Mughal Empire. Our visit was a bit “dampened” by the rain, combined with an irksome taxi driver who, little did we know at the time, was a sign of things to come. We caught an evening train to Delhi, arrived an hour late at 11pm, and then spent an hour driving around the city trying to find our hotel with a tuk tuk driver who seemed to be capable of asking for directions, but completely incapable of actually following them. This, combined with the Indian people’s extremely frustrating habit of telling you something (anything) rather than admitting they don’t know, led us to many u-turns, circles, and dead ends. Finally I lost it, paid him a partial fare, gave him some of my best “angry voice” when he asked for the rest, and we started walking the alleys toward our hotel. Fortunately we struck upon somebody who actually knew the way, and we arrived safely just before midnight. We checked into our pricey hotel that we’d booked as a “sanctuary” in the chaos of Delhi, and were hardly shocked to find that it wasn’t worth the money (except for the fact that it was within walking distance to McDonalds). And such was the start of our sordid relationship with Delhi. The following morning we headed first to the New Delhi train station to book some onward travel. We had learned from our guide book that there was a helpful tourist office for booking tickets, and not to let anyone steer us away from the goal of reaching it. Even with that warning we were unprepared for the experience- our tuk tuk driver (taking us to the station) was the first to lie to us and try to direct us elsewhere, and as we pushed on we were pointed in every direction but the correct one by at least 6 different people. These are not even people we asked for help- they make a point of coming to you, and giving you helpful advice in the form of bold faced lies, steering you toward God knows where but certainly not the commission free tourist office. I was frustrated to the point of tears, and we were in an environment where you cannot ask for help, but we did persevere and successfully booked trains. Incredible…

We spent another 2.5 days in Delhi, visiting both the place of Gandhi’s assassination (a beautiful and interesting museum) and cremation (an odd marble platform in the middle of a park), a cult-like Disneyland for Swaminarayan followers (which contributed to my belief that religious extremism is never positive), the exquisite Lotus temple (a temple of the Bahai faith, designed by a Canadian-Iranian architect), the serene Humayun’s Tomb (a treat for those who may have spent countless hours building a scale model of Mughal gardens…), Jama Masjid (India’s largest mosque which oddly had me covering my ankle length jeans and rain jacket with a colourful shower curtain in the interest of modesty), and finally the streets and alleyways of Old Delhi, of which we’d heard rumours of filth and chaos but in fact mildly disappointed us (perhaps we are becoming numb to filth and chaos…).

I haven’t even bothered to mention the phenomenon that is Delhi tuk tuk/taxi drivers. For fear that it may make my blood pressure rise to unhealthy levels simply to reminisce, let me just summarize and say that they are, without doubt, the least enjoyable people we have ever met, anywhere, and in any condition. They do a disservice to the Indian people, and the people of Delhi.

From Dehli we headed to Jaipur and started our day by walking to a restaurant- when it was proving hard to find, we asked directions from a tuk tuk driver who was offering his services. Shockingly his directions were accurate and we decided over lunch that we’d hire him for the day if we could find him again. If only these guys could understand how much further their honesty would get them… With our two trusty drivers cuddling in the front seat, we cruised around the chaos of the Pink City (they painted much of the city pink, the colour of hospitality, to welcome the Prince of Wales in 1876), visiting the Jantar Mantar observatory (where we paid for a guide as recommended by our guide book, only to immediately realize that we may as well have burned the 200Rs), the Tiger Fort (where I narrowly avoided being stampeded by a cow), Hawa Mahal (the Window Palace, which has hundreds of windows that allowed women to look out, but not be looked upon), and the Amber Fort- the highlight of Jaipur in our opinion. We capped off our visit with a trip to the Raj-Mandir Bollywood theatre- the number one Hindi theatre in India. We watched the movie Guzarrish, which is a departure from the colourful, flamboyant, musically based Bollywood stereotype, but was actually a very enjoyable and well made film. Oddly it was in a hybrid Hindi-English language, which gave us just enough content to be able to follow along and at the intermission (?!) we found ourselves anxious to see the rest of the movie!

As we left our hotel in Jaipur and our tuk tuk quickly drove over a puppy, leaving it squealing in our wake, and me squealing inside the tuk tuk, it was clear that it was time to leave the big cities behind. Our arrival in Jaisalmer was a welcome relief. We headed straight to the Hotel Roop Mahal based on a recommendation from a fellow traveler and, once settled there, headed out for some sightseeing. We made some wrong turns and ended up stumbling into the Tourist Reception Center. Skeptical, but without much better choice, we went in and asked for directions. The friendly man whipped out a map, circled all the key points, gave us some good guidance, and didn’t ask for a single rupee in return. As we stepped outside Cam looked at me and said “What just happened…?!” We felt like we were in a whole new world, and one we very much missed. The rest of the day was just as enjoyable, and we even enjoyed doing some shopping to prepare for our camel safari which we’d booked earlier in the day.

The camel safari is one of the prime reasons people head to Jaisalmer, and the reaches of the Thar Desert in north-western Rajasthan. The desert stretches to the Pakistan border and, although not the “desert” of postcards (scrub and greenery cover the sand dunes), it is still a nice relaxing destination after the likes of Delhi. We spent 4 days and 3 nights on safari, with our trusty camels (Lala and Gulab) and camel drivers (Gazib and Suma). There is no real “event” to a camel safari- the days unfold as per a standard routine: chai delivered in bed, breakfast of toast, porridge and eggs, a two hour camel ride, a 3+ hour siesta in the shade of thorn trees where more chai and lunch is served, another two hour camel ride, and then sunset photos on the dunes with more chai and dinner at that day’s camp spot, and finally to bed on mattresses rolled out on the dunes, with nothing but the infinite sky to lull you to sleep. Being forced into relaxation was the highlight for us and, because we are here in the winter and the heat never got too unbearable, our “peaceful camel time” each day was a much needed respite from Incredible India.

Cut to Dec 23... this post has become my nemesis and now, on the day we depart India, I will force myself to post it and leave it, along with Incredible India, behind.

We left Jaisalmer and headed to Jodhpur to visit the “Blue City”- a large percentage of the houses are painted Brahmin Blue and, viewed from the magnificent Mehrangarh Fort, makes for a beautiful scene very reminiscent of Greece. The Fort of Jodphur was one of many we’ve seen, but became our favourite by far- partly for the fort itself, partly the gardens around it, partly the blue labyrinth of streets that crept up to its walls, and partly for the wicked chocolate pancakes that welcomed us at our hostel nearby- Singhvi’s Haveli, one of our top spots in India.

The following day we pushed our cost vs. comfort needle toward “comfort” and hired a car to drive us to our next stop- Udaipur. We’d heard the bus ride was nightmarish (which is saying something) and the added benefit was being able to stop en-route to see the massive Jain temple at Ranakpur- it is carved from white marble and supported by 1444 pillars of which no two are alike. Our driver got us safely to our destination with no fewer than 4 stops for chai! Udaipur is said to be the most romantic city in all of India- it’s centered around a series of lakes and has multiple beautiful palaces to help earn this title (one of which is featured in James Bond- Octopussy), however we arrived with too high of expectations and therefore left disappointed. It’s times like that when we realize we are perhaps a little… saturated… The absolute highlight of Udaipur (and in fact one of our highlights in all of India) was a cooking course we took with a firey lady named Shashi. After her husband died when she was 32, she spent a year unable to leave her house due to the mourning requirements for women of her caste (Brahmin, the highest caste). As a Brahmin woman she was not permitted to work, despite having two sons to support. She survived by having her sons smuggle laundry to her house so she could wash it inside without being seen. Eventually, through a series of interventions with tourists, she started a cooking course- without being able to speak a word of English. Over time, and with more help from tourists, her class has become featured in the Lonely Planet, her English is excellent, and she has a line up of willing pupils outside her door. We spent over 5 hours in her home learning to make a wide range of classic Indian dishes- from basic chai (tea), to Indian breads (naan, roti, and parantha), to paneer (cheese), pakora (deep fried veggies), veg pulau, and of course chicken butter masala (as well as some veg based versions of masala curry). Beyond the food, meeting Shashi was a real pleasure- for someone who is still learning the English language, she has advanced to the point of mastering sass and sarcasm, which made for highly memorable evening!

We left Udaipur the following morning for a two segment bus journey that took over 24 hours to arrive at our destination of Aurangabad. Nothing to write home about, Aurangabad is the staging city for trips to nearby Ellora and Ajanta- both of which are home to World Heritage listed rock cut cave temples. These are massive temples carved into the side of cliffs by hammer and chisel, and are as old as the 2nd century BC. Ellora, the more impressive of the two spots, has 34 caves within a 2km distance, in equal parts of Jain, Hindu, and Buddhist religion. Ajanta, the older of the two, has 30 Buddhist caves carved around the inside of a horseshoe shaped gorge, many of which are covered on the inside by colourful paintings. Despite having seen many temples over our time in India, you can’t argue with the scale of these ones when considering their age, and the basic tools that were available at the time.

From the caves we hopped our last overnight train (having to push our way aboard as our car was swarmed by obsessed fans of some Bombay guru who happened to be in the next car down) to Mumbai, and made our way to the airport for a flight to Goa. Unsure of exactly what to expect, we had 5 days to kill and figured a trip to a more southern part of India would be a nice change- and we were right. We arrived in Panaji, the capital of Goa (little did we know that Goa is a province, and not a city), found ourselves a decent hotel, and wandered 3 doors down to an amazing restaurant in a little alley. We could feel the chaos slipping away immediately, and realized that what they say is true- Goa is sossegado (laid back). The next two days we rented a scooter and made our way around the Portuguese inspired, cathedral filled, ex-capital city of Old Goa, further inland to a spice plantation, and then to the northern tip of the province bypassing the chaotic beaches until we reached the almost deserted Keri beach. Finished with the northern half of the province, we caught a bus south and ended up in Agonda where we checked into a beach hut and revelled at the fact that there were about 13 people on the entire 3km stretch of sand. Shocked that there was still such a place left in Goa, we gave up our plans to explore the area by scooter and decided, for once, to stay still and… what’s that word? Oh ya- relax… Two days passed quickly and we had to uproot ourselves for our early morning flight back to Mumbai for the final three days.

Our arrival in Mumbai was not without trepidation- it is, after all, another gigantic Indian city. We arrived at our hotel before check-in, but they let us crash in a temporary room and we finally got settled and out on the sightseeing beat by noon. It took about 30 seconds to realize that Mumbai is… different. This is a city of 16 million people and yet it doesn’t feel hectic, overwhelming or chaotic. Truly incredible. There’s much to see that doesn’t involve entrance fees, temples, or tour guides. The city has a tonne of amazing Neo-Gothic architecture, and the ocean is on all sides (Mumbai is, after all, more than half built on land reclaimed from the ocean). For anyone who has read Shantaram, it’s fun to locate spots like Colaba Causeway, Chowpatty Beach, the Taj Hotel, and of course the infamous Leopolds. The distances between key sights are not vast (like Delhi) so walking around is easy and relatively peaceful. In fairness, it likely felt that way only because we didn’t stray too far from the city center and the main tourist sights- there’s no denying that there is a vast “underbelly” of Mumbai that would not have felt easy or peaceful. We’ve talked to travellers who hated Mumbai- and perhaps it’s because it was their entry point to the continent (or perhaps because it is shockingly expensive) but for us, as our exit point, it was a great city and a nice end to our time in India.

So, there you have it- our six weeks in India. I cannot begin to explain how all the words I’ve just used do nothing to capture our experiences here. I can’t even tell you for sure if I enjoyed my time… In the same way that India is a country of dichotomies, so too was our experience.

And finally, as some insight to life in India, here is a random list of things that you cannot avoid, and will frustrate you in ways you’ve never imagined, but make India… incredible…

1. The Head Wobble. This is a prime form of non-verbal communication used by all Indians, but particularly the men. It can mean anything and everything. You can ask a question, to which the answer can only be yes or no, and you’ll get a head wobble. You can ask a question that should require at least two full sentences to answer, and you’ll get a head wobble. You can ask what time it is, and get a frigging head wobble. It’s amazingly powerful, except to helpless tourists who can in no way decipher it.

2. The always knowing the answer, while never really having understood the question scenario. Once we asked directions to an internet café- in total we asked 6 people who all, without hesitation, gave us a confident answer. All 6 answers were different. None were correct. You can’t ask “Is this the way to Place A?” because the answer will always be “Yes.” However, if you ask “Which is the way to Place A?” the answer will be random and often not correct- it’s best to ask multiple times until a pattern emerges…or doesn‘t…

3. The paparazzi effect. We get asked to have our picture taken several times every day, and more times than that we have our picture taken with no request. When they ask it’s usually because they want to pose with us- a group will ask, and then individually cycle through so each one gets their own photo. The men will often ask Cam for permission to have a photo with me, and then will stand about 1 foot away while the picture is taken. Girls love standing with me- I don’t love it so much because I usually look like gigantor beside them. We occasionally say no to the request and I’m often ducking behind things to hide from the sleazy guys who don’t ask. It’s charming for maybe the first day. Now it’s irritating as hell.

And, for fun, a list of some of our top quotes from the last 6 weeks:

1. Cam: “I wasn’t sure the soap was clean.” (after requesting the hand sanitizer after washing his hands with soap in the public bathroom)

2. Kristin: “I’d probably murder a puppy for a Blizzard.” (while sitting on a hot, painfully slow, bus)

3. Cam: “Can ANY of the dogs in this country walk on all 4 legs?” (after watching yet another dog limp down the street)

4. Cam: “You know if the word ‘restaurant’ is spelled correctly, we probably can’t afford it.” (while choosing a lunch spot)

5. Kristin: “There’s nothing in the world that I want less than that.” (to vendors offering to sell drums, giant balloons, shawls, or other overpriced garbage)

And finally, I will sign off.
Until next time- Merry Christmas!
Kristin and Cam.

PS- For those of you who care more about the photos than the words- there are more to come… :)

Brace, brace, brace...

A Monk's Gotta Match
Originally uploaded by camandkristin

We’ve just arrived back in Kathmandu (for our 7th time in all) after spending the last week in Tibet. A trip to Tibet was the prime reason for returning to Nepal for a second time, although we took the opportunity to get out and do another trek as well.

Looking for an option that didn’t require the unpredictable flight to Lukla, nor the long distance bus ride to the Annapurna region, we settled on the Gosainkund trek in the Langtang region north of Kathmandu. The region is sold, in part, on its easy access to the city. Easy access in this case meant a 117km bus ride that took, get this, 10 hours. Ten. Hours. And, despite the popularity of the trekking area, there is no tourist bus that plies the route. This was a local bus on some really, really, crappy roads. I’ll admit to being near tears in fear on occasion- and this is coming from someone who has travelled on the “World’s Most Dangerous Road”. I’d like to re-award that title... Despite the white knuckle component of the trip, it also included highlights such as: Cam holding a Nepalese child on his lap for about 2 hours, a broken chair in front of me such that the chair and occupant leaned further and further back into my face as the trip went on, a “lunch stop” in the middle of a filthy crack-hole town, roof-riding locals climbing down from the roof 100m before a police checkpoint only to walk 200m and climb back onto the roof just beyond the same checkpoint (a useless and time consuming process), a vomiting child huddled at our feet, a stop to repair a flat tire, and about 6 extremely irritating Canary Islanders who thought the world revolved around them. Finally the bus reached our destination and we were rewarded with gorgeous mountain views that almost, but not quite, erased the pain of the bus trip.

The trek itself took 8 days, and reached a maximum height of just over 4600m at Laurebina La. It’s not the most “ergonomic” of treks- the first 3 days are pretty much straight up, meaning it’s a) hard work, and b) not awesome for altitude acclimatization. And, of course, what goes up must come down, so over the final 2 days of the trek we descended 3500m which is pretty brutal on the body as well. We were constantly comparing this trek to the Annapurna Circuit (which we completed last time) and in most cases it came up unfavourably for this trek however, in retrospect, it was a pretty gorgeous route which offered a lot of amazing sights. The mountain views come fast and furious, the rhododendron forests were stunning (even though not blooming), the yak cheese for sale was a real highlight, and the views at sunset on the night before the pass rivals most other views we’ve had in Nepal. We also enjoyed our company- Michael and Andrea, our new friends from, well, Australia and the Czech Repulic via Vietnam… (the people you meet here do not lead conventional lives…)

Anyway, we four finished the trek by powering through the last two days to get out a day early and save one more night in a crappy wood shack sharing our living space with noisy mice. It gave us a couple of days back in Kathmandu to eat meat, have warm showers, and take in the scene that is Diwali- the Hindu Festival of Lights, and then, finally, it was time to head to Tibet.

While theoretically possible to travel to Tibet mostly on your own, it’s expensive and difficult, and the far more common option is to join a tour which is what we did. We learned quickly that almost every agent in town (of which there are hundreds) offers the same package and we also learned that this is high season and there are a frigging LOT of people that want to go to Tibet. Disappointed that our tour would have a “minimum” of 20 people on it, but not seeing any other viable option, we signed up. When we arrived at our bus on the first day we found, in fact, 35 people waiting for the same tour. Ugh. However, the disappointment pretty much stopped there and we very much enjoyed our whole tour. In fact, one advantage to so many people is that its easy to find a small group whom you very much enjoy to spend time with. Our sub-group turned out to really “make” the experience for us. In an effort to minimize rambling (too late, I know) I’ll bullet point the following observations about Tibet:

1. Crossing the border into Tibet involves a full baggage search. Literature is the most sensitive- any books/novels on Tibetan subject matter will be confiscated. Tibet guide books- gone. Chinese guide books whose maps show even the label “Taiwan” will be taken. Tibetan flags- gone. That tattoo on your back that says “Free Tibet”? Hope they don’t see that… Before getting to the crossing, everyone on our bus was busily cutting out maps from their books or sending them back with the bus driver to be retrieved at a later date. Fortunately for us we hadn’t bothered to buy any…

2. The road from Kathmandu to Lhasa is called the Friendship Highway. It was built by the Chinese 5 years ago and is a fine demonstration of the benefits of communism. The road is ~1000km long and crosses through extreme mountain terrain- many passes over 5000m. Until about 20km from Lhasa we saw almost no other vehicles on it. It’s sure a nice yak trail though.

3. There are a lot of checkpoints along the road. You must produce your passport and visa regularly. Tibetans, who are unable to even get a passport, have little hope of ever leaving the country.

4. The military presence in Lhasa (in particular) is extreme. Since some monk-initiated uprisings in 2008 the main square in the Tibetan part of the city has been patrolled by serious Chinese fire power. The buildings have what could only be described as sharp shooters perched on top, and groups of 8-10 armed soldiers march through the crowds in the square at regular intervals, not to mention the groups of soldiers permanently stationed under shade tents.

5. Tibetans are not permitted to gather in large groups (no more than 4, I believe). At one point one of our travel companions, Casey, had stopped at a small stall where a man was selling what are essentially Tibetan wigs. The man was outfitting Casey’s head with the silly long haired wig and a crowd started to gather as the locals find us to be quite amusing. The crowd grew to around 15 people and finally a angry policeman came over and barked some harsh order at which point all the locals rapidly dispersed and we tourists stood uncomfortably aware of the situation.

6. Despite the cultural revolution by the Chinese, the Buddhist monasteries of Tibet are still quite spectacular. Potala Palace (once home to the Dalai Lama before he fled to India) is basically the main jewel in the crown. But it’s the actions of the devout pilgrims more than the buildings themselves that really drives home the essence of “Tibet”. These people prostrate in front of the buildings endlessly, or walk in circles around them while chanting mantras, and inside they bring offerings of money, butter for the lamps, or other random trinkets. It is religious devotion to the max…

7. The landscapes of Tibet are quite stunning- although they start to look familiar after spending quite a bit of time in Nepal and areas of similar geography like Mongolia. But, there is a stark beauty to the mountains that can’t be denied.

8. We saw a 4 year old smoking. Two, actually.

OK, so poor attempt at minimizing the rambling… :) The bottom line is that Tibet is well worth a visit, although our experience there was not as expected, but no less worthwhile.

Anyway, finally, with regards to the blog title, we’re told that in the case of an aviation disaster, they will announce “Brace, brace, brace!” over the PA and you should assume the brace position to minimize damage. Now, on the eve of our departure to India, we’re feeling the need for such a position. Travelling in Nepal means you run across countless travellers who have already been to India, and a large portion of them have essentially fled north to Nepal to escape the chaos of India. We, on the other hand, are heading south into the maelstrom, with our exit strategy a distant flight to Australia on Christmas eve… These travellers are always far too keen to share their stories of India, and most of them start with something like “It’s so insane…” or “It’s so filthy…” or “They stare at you constantly…” or any other number of intimidating descriptions. Typically they also include a “but it’s so amazing” kind of sentiment, which is why we’re joining the hordes heading to the mystical sub-continent. Look out Cam and Kristin, here comes India…

Until next time,
K and C.

Lights out on Russia!

Good night, Moscow!
Originally uploaded by camandkristin

We've been on the road for 96 days, and are now closing the book on the second stage of the adventure. Today we fly to Kathmandu, the first time we’ll be returning to a country we’ve already visited, from where we’ll travel overland north to Tibet, and then south into India for a total of 9 weeks before flying out from Mumbai on Christmas Eve. It sounds pretty daunting at the moment but I expect Christmas will be upon us before we know it…

Our Trans-Mongolian journey finished with the Irkutsk-Moscow leg, completing the 7800km, 144 hour epic rail trip from Beijing. A further 5 hour trip north to St. Petersburg isn’t technically a part of the Trans-Siberian route, and is so short and inconsequential its hardly worth mentioning (except for the fact that we were on a gorgeous express train that reached speeds of 220km/h and offered the smoothest and most quiet ride we’ve ever had).

The long leg from Irkutsk started at 2:30am when we boarded what we thought would be our best train yet. Since the journey was so long, we’d paid extra to be on what we thought would be a “Firmenny” train- slightly higher class and faster. It turns out not to have been the case- the carriage was older and less appealing than even the third class train from Beijing (and, over the next 4 days, it became clear it wasn‘t any faster either…). We found our cabin already occupied with sleeping roommates, and had to squeak in and get our beds made with minimal fuss, trying to ignore the fact that we had 4 days ahead of us in the tiny compartment. As usual, however, all our companions (a total of 4 cycled through over the whole trip) were great and it was easy to pass the time with exciting activities like making tea, staring out the window, attempting to decipher the Cyrillic time table, strategizing bathroom breaks, and popping off the train for 5 or 6 minutes at a time at each stop.

Early in the trip Cam expressed his fear of the “providnitsii” (male steward) who, I’ll admit, did look to be a stern Russian with his military hair cut and well pressed uniform. However, it wasn’t long until he introduced himself to us- his name was Serge, and he was anything but fearful. On one trip to the bathroom I heard my name being called down the length of the car- I was being beckoned into Serge’s cabin to look at hundreds of photos of his “favourite daughter” in classic Russian poses (if you’ve ever seen a Russian pose for a photo, you know what I mean) in her new home city of Honolulu. Later on Cam went to fill our tea mugs with water and, when he didn’t return for a while, I knew he’d been kidnapped by Serge. He returned eventually saying “I just saw pictures of Serge in his speedos” and then proceeded to demonstrate the pose. Serge continued to be a real source of entertainment for us- he’d show up at our cabin, announce some random information about our next stop, and then walk away. On our final night on the train, our food supplies were exhausted, so we decided to give the dining car a shot. We told Serge where we were headed, planning to request his company (if for no other reason than to get his assistance in translating the menu). He announced he would join us, helped us custom order our meals, and then we proceeded to shoot vodka with him to really solidify the Russian train experience. That meal ended with Serge professing his love for me (which is odd, as I really thought it would have been for Cam…) and offering me a cone of pumpkin and sunflower seeds. So many odd things happen on these trains…

As if Serge wasn’t enough, another couple from two cabins down heard our English and, after learning we were from Canada (they had family in Calgary), developed quite an attachment to us. They called us “friends” and kept calling us into their cabin for broken conversations. At one point they produced three memory cards for their camera, and asked us to download to our computer all their holiday photos from their trip to Europe a year ago. Cam spent the next hour going through all 900 photos with them… They ended up presenting us with a pack of postcards from their home town (“Present”), as well as 10 ruble coin as a token of our friendship. We both exited the train in Moscow and they snapped a few photos of us at the station as though we were their children setting off on a journey. We all then headed to the metro, and they bought our metro tickets and helped us find our way to the proper station. Just another of the many relationships that develop on these trains!

Anyway, once off the train, we spent 4 days exploring Moscow which was a great city with lots to see. The Russian people who live there are very modern and fashion forward- they could easily fall into step in Vancouver. Our first destination was the infamous Red Square- one of those places you always hear about but never think you’ll actually see. The square is lined on all sides with something impressive- the Kremlin, St. Basil’s Cathedral, a huge 19th century impressive building that now houses a chic department store, the Russian State History museum and, for good measure, a marble mausoleum holding Lenin. St. Basil’s is really quite something- all the best of Russian Orthodox :) We managed to hit all the main sights, as well as some of the less notorious ones like the Gulag History Museum, Statue Park (housing many of the Soviet statues that used to line the streets), Arbat street, a handful of cathedrals, and a sweet shopping mall with a Gap and H&M (finally some denim to add to our travel wear)! We also spent one night at the Bolshoi Ballet- a nice introduction for ballet rookies like us.

After our tour of Moscow it was off to St. Petersburg, or Leningrad if you prefer. This city is well known as one of the worlds most beautiful, and although we saw it much in the rain and gray, we do agree to an extent. The problem is, we’ve seen many of the worlds “most beautiful” so its up against some stiff competition… We spent our time here visiting many of the cathedrals, parks and gardens, the fort that was the original center of the city, and the Hermitage Museum (which warrants about a week in itself, so we had to move fast for our 6 hour window…). One of the cathedrals here, the Church of the Saviour on Spilled Blood, easily tops my personal list of all churches I have ever seen (and that list is long and distinguished). The outside resembles St. Basils (but better), and the inside boasts 7000 sq meters of mosaic wall coverings. It is absolutely unbelievable and, for me, single-handedly worth the trip to St. Petersburg.

Anyway, time is running out- off to catch our Aeroflot flight. That should be interesting… If we can survive the 3 flights, and manage to get out of Dehli (for which we do not have a visa permitting us to enter), then we have 30 degree temperatures to look forward to in Kathmandu which will be about a 35 degree shift for our bodies…

Until next time,
K and C.