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Tour of India and Nepal – Delhi.

31st March 200431st March 2016 admin Delhi Leave a comment

	I set off on a tour of India and Nepal with the Adventure Company. Flying from Manchester, I stop of in Doha, before continuing to Delhi, to begin the tour.
As I arrive in Doha, I notice a girl in front of me, has a document holder, with the logo of the Adventure Company on it, and I discover that she is on the same trip as me, with her friend Paul. We all go for coffee, and get to know each other. In reality, I forget to take a picture of us having coffee at the time, the reason that we all have suntans in this picture, is because it was actually taken on the way home, and in that way, is a fake.
	The debate of independent versus organized travelling has ranged for years and will continue to do so. One positive thing about organized tours, is that when your plane lands, somebody, is actually waiting for you to arrive, and will start making phone calls if you don’t. Our bags are carefully loaded onto an air conditioned vehicle, and we are driven to our hotel.
The first thing that surprised, was how cows were tethered and grazing in the middle of the road. In fairness, I didn’t find the road system to be any worse than some of the more “exciting” cities I have visited in Europe.
	After we arrive at our hotel, we have a wonder around the hotel vicinity, during the early evening. Here a scene of people relaxing on the street and chatting, street vendors serving snacks, and bicycles being repaired.
Because we had arrived late for the Delhi tour, my friend Kevin let me use one of his pictures.
	Next door to the hotel, I loved the honesty of this no parking sign. I certainly didn’t see anyone park there, at anytime while I was staying.
Early in the morning (very early in my case, as the hotel receptionist, woke me at 3am, rather than 4am, but never mind) we head for the railway station, to catch a train for Agra. Here an enormous line of Tuck Tucks, rise early for the morning business.
	The train platform was crowded and busy, but a lot more organized than I had led to believe for a developing country. Overall, was no different from catching a train on match day in the UK.
The trip brief, said that travelling on a train in India would be a very unusual experience. It certainly was for me, having come from one of the worlds most developed nations, I was completely unprepared for a spotlessly clean train, that left on time 🙂
	The train travelled through some amazing countryside. A few years earlier, they had to stop running the train, as “bandits” dropped onto the roof, and took over the train. Thankfully, nothing like this happened to us.
Being unprepared as I was, 2 young people came over and seemed to want to sell me something. I shoo’d them away. For not the first time while ravelling, I had made an arse of myself. My friend Angela pointed out, that the journey comes with a complimentary breakfast, which they were trying to serve. I apologized to them, and tucked into my breakfast. As always, in a moving vehicle when you are tired, its easy to drop off. I had about 2 hours sleep, the journey was very comfortable. I don’t know who runs the trains in India, but Richard Branson could do worse than hire them.
	We arrive at the busy station in Agra. Considering, I had prepared myself mentally for an ordeal, the train journey, was actually one of the highlights of my trip, and I felt a bit silly.

Morocco 08 (2/2).

31st March 200431st March 2016 admin Morocco 08 2, Uncategorised Leave a comment

	In the morning, we assemble outside the Burber house with a sense of excitement. We’ve seen loads of cool things up to this point, but were in the mountains now, living with mountain people (and a donkey, which we couldn’t get to stay quiet). We set off, and on route, our guide gives a talk on village life. We visit a mountain village. A “proper” village must have a mosque, a school and a cemetery. All tombs in the cemetery face east. If husband dies, the wife must go to the cemetery for 4 months. If wife dies, husband can look for a wife straight away. It was explained, a wife is unlikely to find another husband if she is over 40.
We arrive at our destination. Were here to explore the famous Blue Rocks. The terrain was amazing…
	But I thought that painting the rocks blue was a bit absurd.
Our cooks headed out in advance of us, to lay out lunch. They picked a superb spot, and it was all ready when we returned from our walk.
	Freshly prepared food eaten in the desert. It was one of the most relaxing meals I can remember.
We all wander off and explore some more. You can see from this picture, the vastness of the landscape.
	We head home and spend another night in the Burber house, high in the mountains. In the morning we congregate outside again.
The Souk or market is the main meeting place for communication etc. Word spreads fast in these local community’s. If someone buys say a large amount of meat, there will be discussion of whether there is a wedding imminent, or a baby on the way. If there is a wedding , mothers from both sides of the marriage knock on each door and invite friends and relatives to the wedding. The invitation will always be before the Souk, and the wedding always after.
	In the afternoon, we visit an old style Burber house. You can see from this picture, all the other houses in the area.
The building had a hollowed out light well and contained lots of authentic pots and cooking implements.
	As we continue on our journey to Essaouira we stop of at Agadir. As I wander around, I realise is basically a holiday resort. I was also propositioned by a prostitute. We sit down next to the ocean in search of refreshments. For the first time since leaving England, we actually get to drink lager by the pint.
Our final destination on the trip is Essaouira No vehicles were allowed in this charming town. Like normal, the AC had picked a venue off the beaten track that was a hidden gem.
	We have a quick wander around the harbour. There were amazing sounds and colours (this isn’t a tourist trap, its a working fishing port).
Apparently this fort inspired Jimmi Hendrix to write castles made of Sand (sean has pointed out, its track 1, side 2 of the album Axis: bold as love).
	Al, Tony and I continue to explore. I thought we made quite a good team, I really enjoyed their company.
The main square in Essauira The hotel on the right of the picture has a rooftop nightclub, and it was here that we had our “leaving do” for Chris, and where various musicians attempted to romance, the lovely Segun In the daytime, like the rest of Essauira, it really was magnificent to see, with the sunshine and the sea air.
	Tone had had problems with antibiotics (the “problems” being that he couldn’t drink). Luckily, towards the end of the trip, he was back on the ale and the 3 of us, along with assorted stragglers were able to embark on an evening of debauchery once again !.
During one of the evenings, I was this picture in our hotel foyer. They had various paintings (done by local artists, they were for sale). I took a shine to this particular one. It was supposed to be the little girl, walking down the dark alley to follow a friendly ghost. I interpreted it to mean that she should follow the future representation of herself, and the life she could have. The hotel owner told us that the alley in the picture was quite near the hotel and while exploring we would almost certainly find it. The next day, as we wandered around, we found it.
	We have our evening meal at a restaurant on the beach. The following morning, after breakfast on the terrace, we walk out of the town. Essaouira is a very special place, I know ill go back there.
On the way back to Marrakech, we visit a workers co-operative run by widowed or divorced women.
	Back in Marrakech, Al and I do some more exploring. He helped me to find Hotel Ali, a legend among backpackers.
150md for posing with snake charmers ! I’m usually happy to pay a small fee for photographs but this seemed excessive, so I took the picture secretly on principle.
	Just about the only “proper” pub in the Medina.
Inside it looked and felt like the social club in Get Carter. That said, they were very friendly and Alistair, Tony and I had some pretty cool times in there. The Flag beer was expensive (about 2 quid for a 3rd of a pint).
	With the official part of the tour complete, I had a day to myself. I wandered around the Royal palace. A guard came out, told me I couldn’t take pictures and demanded to see my camera, in case I had taken any already. Otherwise, it was a pretty quiet day.
The thing I loved about the place was its authenticity. Ordinary people just sat down and ate their evening meal here.
	Something I’ve always wanted to do. Have dinner overlooking the Medina. It was very difficult to photograph, but here it is.

Morocco 08 (1/2).

31st March 200431st March 2016 admin Morocco 08 1, Uncategorised Leave a comment

	I’d visited Morocco previously, and spent some time sleeping out in the desert. I wanted to see a bit more of the culture and people and since the adventure company were running a trip there, I thought why not.
Due to flight times, I arrived a day before everyone else, so I was able to settle in (the hotel was just across the road from the Medina). For lunch I had a steak sandwich with chips in the hotels restaurant. There were 2 waitresses there. One was very efficient and the other was very friendly I couldn’t decide which one I liked the most. From my balcony, I saw this porter, having a nap in his own trolley.
	In the afternoon I went out exploring. I decided to wander around the Medina. I had been told to beware of people who would give directions, and then demand money as a guiding fee. Because of this, I got lost and ended up walking around for 2 hours before I found my way out. In the evening, I wandered around the outer wall of the Medina. I stop along the way, to read my guidebook, and find that Bread is so valuable to the Burbers, that people say a short prayer before removing it from the road, if its been dropped.
I walked into the main square. As the guidebook said, the place literally comes alive at night. I had seen it featured on several cookery programs, it is the only market in the world listed as a world heritage site. I had some fresh orange juice while I was there.
	Casablanca is the financial capital of Morocco, and unfortunately, the film Casablanca was shot completely in Hollywood. In the morning, the tour starts promptly at 9:30, straight after breakfast. As usual, our guide is a consummate professional and gives us a 40 minute talk about Morocco, what things to look out for, and what things to watch out for. Apparently, one of the new defunct Italian lera coins is the same size as a quite valuable Moroccan coin.
One thing I love about the adventure company trips, are there ability to find the best local experts. Our main guide (on the left) introduces us to the chap in the centre, who gives us an extensive tour of the Medina. Here, we stop in a Riad. Travellers would bring there wares long distances then put camels and things in the main square before settling into accommodation around the high balcony’s above. It was impossible to properly photograph the Riad, without using a helicopter or fireman’s ladder.
	As well as a thriving tourist area, the Medina is actually a functioning market. Most of the traders are grouped together and linked, so the slipper makers are quite near the leather sellers for example. I’ve previously been taught how to sharpen knives, on a bushcraft course. It amazed me, to see several people who actually did this for a living. Around the Medina are dye, felt, leather and metal workers. In this picture, we pass the stall of the only remaining felt maker in the Medina.
We were told that most people would like to be paid, if you wanted to photograph them (seemed fair to me, as there were some fantastic photo opportunity’s). These leather workers didn’t want any money to be photographed. Not the best picture I’ve ever taken, but it shows some at work, watching dvd’s on a colour tv. This is the reality I suppose. We imagine them to be poor, but they have been trading for thousands of years. Although simple people, they are probably far more enterprising than most would think.
	We visit the mosque, right in the centre of the Medina. It was a calming and relaxing place to rest, and an oasis amidst the hustle and bustle of the Medina outside. Our guide was explaining some of the principles of Islam. All the things in the mosque are mathematical in origin, like arches and patterns. There are no actual symbols like cows or water or anything like that. The idea was that a person connection with God should be spiritual, and any pictures or carvings would become the focus, rather than the actual connection. He also explained the 5 principles of Islam, and one surprise to me, was that a pilgrimage to Mecca costs around 35,000md.
The food market. This was where the locals, actually came to buy food. We buy some things for a picnic, then hit the road. We set off for Alt Ben Hadou, I end up sitting in the front of the bus. At one point an “unruly” tractor nearly causes an accident, and I accidentally teach the driver some bad English words.
	We stop on the way to eat our packed lunch, than drive through the mountains for several hours. Our guide gives us a talk on the Moroccan family law, which defines ages at which people can get married and stuff like that. We arrived at Alt Ben Hadou in the dark, so I couldn’t see much of the place. Interestingly, the water that supplies the hotel, comes from a sea spring. I had a shower, but as it was salt water, it was impossible to get it to lather up. We had a delicious evening meal, washed down with a few cans of beer and a glass of wine. It was cold at night, since the area is high up in the mountains, but I had enough blankets, so I was fine. In the morning, we eat breakfast on the terrace, with this spectacular view of the old town. 84 family’s live outside the actual village, in the place I’m standing and only 5 live physically in the village (there are rules about only cooking on wood fires and stuff like that, for those that choose to live there).
We cross the shallow river and I see this archway. Our guide explains that this is a fairly recent addition. Loads of films have been made here, and this Gate was constructed for Jewel of the Nile (if you haven’t seen it, its the one where they “drive” an F16 out of the fort and shoot the doors away with missiles).
	Its fairly well know that the are was used in the film Gladiator. Our guide holds up a picture, showing the arena that was erected just outside the Kasbah for filming.
The buildings are being constantly repaired and re-built and here you can see some clay bricks drying in the sun. Bricks made from Clay and straw have been used since the beginning of time and are mentioned in the bible.
	Some builders working to repair the fort. I have always believed, that people in the world, aren’t that different (for example, while in London, watching loads of people walking to work, in comparison, wandering around Marrakech first thing in the morning, the expressions on the faces of the people, didn’t look that different. On the bottom left of this photo, you can see the kettle, builders around the world, are especially alike !.
Inside the Kasbah, its right out of Tomb Raider.
	Tony poses overlooking the valley. I told a few of my friends, about the trick I had learned on my travel photography course. If you really want a picture taken right, and you want to be in it, you stand with the person you want to take the picture and guide a 3rd person to stand where your going to stand. This results in a near perfect picture, every time.
It’s said that in Morocco, nothing happens without Tea. We are invited for some tea, and to see how traditional carpets are made. The carpet shop owners wife shows us how they are actually made (the weaving frame belonged to her grandmother). Women wear tattoos to show if they are married, how many children they have etc.
	Wedding rugs are unique to the Burbers and not general across Morocco. Our guide explains, that once a marriage is arranged, the bride will start to make a rug. Symbols on the rug, will reflect how she wishes to live (whether she wants more freedom, or more protection, how many children she would like to have etc).
Delicious chicken for lunch, and then we hit the road, once again. The whole while I was in Morocco, it was pretty rare to find beer and when I did it was very expensive. I saw this garage at the side of the road, advertising cold beer, and I couldn’t believe my look. Our driver just carried on without stopping. As I saw the building from the other side, I noticed that all the cars were of 70’s American manufacture. Our guide explained, that it wasn’t actually a working garage, and that it had been used as a set for the film, The hills have eyes, and was never taken down.
	I had read about the famous tree climbing goats. I really couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
Our next stop is Tardount, sometimes called little Marrakech, as it has a wall around it. We wander around the streets during the evening (Sagun comes back with a new handbag, which doesn’t surprise anyone). The locals drove around on mopeds, with a gay abandon, which at times I found terrifying. After a delicious evening meal of Beef Kofti, a few of us chat, and the remainder play cards, especially purchased for the occasion. I was chatting to Don and he bet me his wife Sue would almost certainly win. She was Australian, and had grown up in a place called Calagory, where they didn’t have tv, until the 80’s.In the morning we sit together in the hotel for breakfast, drink coffee and eat french bread with butter (the French really don’t know how lucky they are to eat like that every day).
	After the best nights sleep of the trip, we pop down for breakfast and enjoy coffee, with french bread and real butter (the French just don’t realise how lucky they are). We then head of to a tannery, where we see how animal skins are prepared. I had done this sort of thing on Bushcraft courses before, and found the factory atmosphere, a bit un-inspiring. Many of the other people were practically sick.
In Taradount’s history, there was a rebellion, during which, the Berbers backed the wrong side. As a result they were completely wiped out. Today they have returned, and usually wear blue. Our guide was also wearing blue that day, but said it was of no significance, he just liked those clothes. He explained how men would bring food with them to work and then “hire” a tajine to cook it from. At lunchtime they would come back, the food would be cooked, and they would tuck in. To avoid confusion, people put tomatoes, forks etc on top of their Tajine, to mark it.
	As we continued our tour of the market, we purchased some food for a packed lunch (we would be eating in the mountains for lunch again. I grabbed some flat bread for emergency’s (I always had some in my day sack, in case I got hungry) and then found some “proper” French bread and cheese. Delicious. This is one of my favourite photographs on all of my trips. The colours in the spice souk were amazing. We split into 2 groups, and while exploring with Alistair, a guy said our friends had gone to the oil house. They said that to everyone, the oil house seemed to be a very lucrative “attraction”.
That evening, we would be starting out 2 night stay in the Burber house. We set out for buy some wine for the evening. We found a bar and had a can of flag (the local brew) while we were waiting. The inside of the bar would have made an adequate lavatory back in the UK.
	At this point we are met by our 3 land rovers, and head for our next destination along mountain roads. At one point we stop and get a chance to walk along the pass. This a picture of some of the cliffs that flanked each side of the road. We stop for refreshments before heading to the Burber house we will share for the next 2 days. In the background is the famous Tete Du Lion, or the lion faced mountain.
Back in the Landrover, feels like adventure again. Took turns on seats in the land rover. There was plenty of room, and considering how much time we spent on the road, this was appreciated by everyone. The track up to the Burber house was very uneven, so we had to get out of the land rovers. It gave an opportunity to take this pretty smart picture.
	Initial confusion in the Burber house, as there are 3 rooms, and people are moving back and forward with bags like on a school trip. I debate sleeping on the roof, but decide to stay indoors (in the end, I am in the minority). In the evening, I give a brief (for me !) talk on travel equipment, which seems well received.
Our drivers, cooks and porters, all worked to different schedules. As we sat down to eat our evening meal, we could hear singing comming from the kitchen. Two of our crew were good friends who hadn’t met up in a while. One produced a violin, and the other a water container as an improvised drum. It really was a lesson for me, to see these simple people with nothing, improvising entertainment and having a whale of a time. Back home in my country, many youngsters without a playstation consider themselves poverty stricken, and they could learn a lesson from these 2.

Tour of India and Nepal – Chitwan National Park (2/2).

31st March 200431st March 2016 admin Chitwan NP 2 Leave a comment

	We wander around the Elephant Breeding Centre.
We were able to buy flatbread, that we could feed to the Elephants.
	Elephants have always been my favourite animals and it was a special moment for me, to be able to spend time with them in peace and quiet away from a Zoo.
Just after leaving the Elephant Sanctuary, our guide takes us trekking along the flood planes.
	Our guide speaks to a colleague. He quickly asks us, if we can move really fast (I though he meant run, but he meant walk quickly) for about 10 minutes. We move quickly through the scrub, and are rewarded by a sighting of a rhino. At one point, the Rhino looks slightly spooked, we back away as instructed (we could see it, but it was too far away to photograph without a zoom lens).
After an exhilarating half hour, we head back to the Elephant sanctuary entrance, to cross the river and go back for lunch. We were surprised to see this.
	We had spent the morning, looking in the wilder parts of the park. We were astounded at the irony, when a Rhino walked right across the grass in front of us, bold as brass. We were able to get really close and see it. One Japanese guy took a real chance and went a bit too close to it. My guidebook was clear about this: Before getting inquisitive with Rhino’s and ignoring the advise of your guide, just imagine being trampled to death !.
After an amazing morning, we head back across the river, to our waiting Jeeps. An old man on the bank, was carving small animals from wood (it was how he made his living). Interestingly, he had Elephants and Rhino’s (I bought one each, have them to this day, they are treasured possessions) and since the spectacle of the Rhino passing, the carved Rhino had doubled in value.
	After lunch, our guide arrives with an elephant, and we take it in turns, to learn how to climb on its back, like the locals, using its very strong ears.
We head to the loading station, where our 3 Elephants arrive, complete with “viewing platform” seats.
	We head gracefully along the trail.
Crossing through Wetlands.
	Finally we reach the bush. In this terrain, it was like being dragged through the proverbial hedge backwards. It was pretty cool cruising high above the forest floor.
We saw loads of wild animals (but unfortunately, no Tigers. Our guide had said lf we see a Tiger, we should go home to the UK, and easily win the Lottery !) The Rhino’s were relaxing in the long grass (well I think that’s what they were doing) and we were able to get right up close to see them, as you can see from this picture. There are 400 wild Rhino’s in the park.
	Afterwards, its time for some R and R. The Elephants needed to be bathed, and we were invited to go down to the river to bath them.
Not my sort of hobby really, so I sat on the bank (with a Beer, obviously), kept hold of the Camera’s and took pictures of everyone. Here Kingsley tries to stay on the Elephants back.
	Later, we wander around into the village. I bought some presents, a beautiful painting of 3 village women carrying baskets (which hangs on my wall at work) and something I have always wanted, a Gurkha Knife. I bought lots of stuff from this Charity shop, which contributes to single mothers in the area.
In the evening, I relax around the bar with Kingsley, the famous Pencil entrepreneur of Indian legend. To mark the 50th Anniversary of the ascent of Everest, a special brand of Lager had been produced. They were still selling it a couple of years later, and it was still delicious. Its moments like these that I treasure, when you sit amongst friends and recount the days events.
	Up early again, and back to the Jeeps, for our final trip out In only 2 days, we had done a village visit, a Canoe Safari, a walking Safari and an Elephant Safari. This was an early morning Jeep Safari, to see small animals.
As we crossed the river by bridge, there was an early morning eclipse (not photographed terribly well.
	As we set off, we see more Elephants along the road. During the Monsoon season, roads like this one are impassible.
As we drive through the forest, in the early morning, there were loads of birds and other creatures to see (there are over 450 species of birds in the park). Sadly, my Camera just wasn’t powerful enough to photograph them.
	I decided to just enjoy the experience. I love driving over rough terrain anyway, and the surroundings, just made it even better.

Tour of India and Nepal – Chitwan National Park (1/2).

31st March 200431st March 2016 admin Chitwan NP 1 Leave a comment

	The Royal Chitwan National Park, one of the “must see” sights in Nepal. I had been looking forward to it, but my expectations were surpassed.
As was the case, on arrival at many of our destinations, we find and sit down in a large garden It was nice to be able to stretch out, after hours inside a vehicle, and made even better with a cold Beer.
	The whole place, was really well organised. They even had this board, showing who was doing what and when. I took regular pictures of the board and referred to the timetable regularly, so as not to waste even a moment of this opportunity.
In the late afternoon of our first day, we head out by Ox cart to visit a local village in Tharu.
	I have been to “villages” (Dubai and Wadi Rum spring to mind) where the “villagers” were actually University Educated actors. This was authentic. A real working village, and the locals, couldn’t have been more friendly.
Our Guide briefs us, before the tour of the village begins. The people of the village, are not naturally afflicted by Malaria, and before Malaria was removed from Nepal, the villagers were the only people who could live here.
	This poor bedraggled chick, caught my eye. It was such a chirpy and upbeat thing, that I couldn’t resist taking a picture of it.
One of the local children, collecting clay and mud from the road, to “improve” his home.
	One of the clay huts, that the villagers lived in. A simple design made from natural resources, but in no way inferior, to many council houses in the UK.
We found wild Marijuana growing in the village (nobody seemed to mind).
	The village has a community Centre, which houses a small museum. While we wandered around, the villagers never came over begging, or trying to “badger” us into buying anything. Instead, they subsidise their paltry income, by charging admission, which made everyone feel more dignified. Here Jane poses outside.
Many of the baskets and traditional wares, used day to day in the village.
	I have attempted to make grass mattresses and doors in the past. None of my attempts have ever been even close to this one. This isn’t actually an artefact in the museum, its a “proper” door.
We reluctantly leave the village and head home.
	Before reaching our camp, we stop of at a local cafe by the river, and enjoy a drink, as the sun goes down.
My home during my stay at CNP. This beautiful chalet, spotlessly clean, with its own veranda. Although close to all the hotels amenities, it was positioned so that you could feel separate and independent if you wished.
	Our guide really did make the most, of every minute of our visit. In the evening, after dinner (and before the ale started flowing !) we were given a talk on local plants.
The next morning, after a relaxing evening socializing, a comfortable nights sleep, and a superb breakfast, we are pickup up by Jeep, and taken to our first activity of the day, a canoe safari. I thought these Jeeps were amazing. Its 80 years old and functions perfectly (the jungle isn’t the kindest place to motor vehicles). I remember thinking, that the person who built this, is probably dead now, but I think he would be proud to know, that its still going.
	We disembark from the Jeep and set off in two large canoes (they were made locally by the tribesmen) and head down the river.
Our punter (he wasn’t into gambling or anything 🙂 kneeled on the back of the boat, and used his stick to point out wildlife. On the right of this picture, you can see one of the “Crocks”.
	You can get some idea from this picture, what it was like to be in the Canoe. The thing that kept worrying me, was what would happen, if the Canoe capsized and we ended up in the water with the Crocks. But then I thought, that’s why its called adventure travel. Also, everyone else in the Canoe, seemed to be thinking the same thing and sat very still, during the journey.
As we leave the Canoe’s, we are shown this plant called “mother-in-laws tongue” !.

Tour of Egypt and Jordan – Petra

31st March 200431st March 2016 admin Petra, Uncategorised Leave a comment

	We arrive at Wadi Moussa, the nearest town to Petra. The trip had been exciting to this point, but this was different. Years before, my friend Yvonne, had returned from a trip around the world (in those days, I wasn’t at all inspired by travel, but I was excited for her). I had met her in a cafe in Glasgow, and she had shown me some of the pictures from her trip. One photo, was of the Treasury in Petra. It had left a mark on me, for nearly 20 years and the following day, I would finally get to see it. The hotel we stayed in, had the ubiquitous “Irish” bar, but although anything but authentic, it was actually quite a nice pub. In the picture are Ben, Nicola and Sue, who I got on with really well.
The tourist shops near the entrance, draw heavily on the fact that the treasury was used in the film Raiders of the Lost Ark. It was voted as one of the new seven wonders, and 800 of its monuments are listed is Unesco world heritage sites. Petra gets its title “The Red Rose City” from a poem by John William Burgon. The last 2 lines are “Match me such a marvel save in eastern clime, A Red Rose City half as old as time“. Problem is, when he wrote the poem, he hadn’t actually been to Petra, 16 years later, having seen it, he wrote to his sister commenting “There is nothing rosy about Petra, by any means”.
	Horses are used to drive carriages into the city (I cant imagine why anyone wouldn’t want to walk into it, and savour the experience, but up to them.) There is an animal sanctuary nearby, where these horses are looked after once retired. The long-hidden site was revealed to the Western world by the Swiss explorer Johann Ludwig Burckhardt in 1812. The City is 2000 years old, built by the Nabateans, it has also been occupied by The ancient Romans and the Bedouin. The eastern entrance leads steeply down through a dark and narrow gorge (in places only 3–4 meters wide) called the Siq (the shaft), a natural geological feature formed from a deep split in the sandstone rocks and serving as a waterway flowing into Wadi Moussa.
Along the sides of the Siq, are these channels, which at one time provided running water, and also a “safety valve” during flash flooding. It used to be covered, but long ago ancient floods washed away the cover stones. Excavations have shown it was the ability of the Nabataean’s to control the water supply that led to the rise of the desert city, in effect creating an artificial oasis. Archaeological evidence demonstrates the Nabataeans controlled these floods by the use of dams, cisterns and water conduits. Thus, stored water could be employed even during prolonged periods of drought.
	In this picture, you can see just how high, the walls of the Siq go (the bottom of the picture starts at about 50 meters).
At the end of the narrow gorge stands Petra’s most elaborate ruin, Al Khazneh (“the Treasury”) hewn directly out of the sandstone cliff. For the fascinating details of how it was restored, click here. The Treasury’s original purpose remains elusive – except that it was not a Treasury. Some scholars believe it was a royal tomb, with the king’s burial place in the small chamber at the back; others, a temple, pointing to its temple-like façade and the lack of burial holes – for them the rear chamber was the sanctuary, complete with ritual ablution basin. Little has changed the Treasury since the Hon. Charles Irby and Mr. James Mangles, commanders in the British Royal Navy, described their first sight of it in 1818. “We do not know with what to compare this scene”, they added; “perhaps there is nothing in the world that resembles it”.
	The Obelisk Tomb and Bab al Siq, Petra. It takes its name from the four Indian Obelisks along the top.
The locals, didn’t waste any resource. Here, a carved out room, was used to “house” a donkey, temporarily not needed to pull carts down through the Siq. In times gone by, a Bedouin family would have lived here.
	This child was wandering around, giving out Euro coins. We worked out, that he actually wanted them changed into some kind of usable currency. We exchanged them for Dollars, in return for allowing us to Photograph him.
Some of the souvenirs, were a bit sublime (one shop was selling used, dead batteries). I was intoxicated by the moment, and ended up spending more than £100 on presents and souvenirs (I was so happy to be there, I didn’t even bother negotiating). One thing I quite liked (couldn’t work out how to get it home) was this miniature Bedouin tent.
	The amphitheatre has actually been cut into the hillside and into several of the tombs during its construction. Rectangular gaps in the seating are still visible. Almost enclosing it on three sides are rose coloured mountain walls, divided into groups by deep fissures, and lined with knobs cut from the rock in the form of towers. Theatre, which was constructed in the early 1st century AD by Nabataeans and enlarged and improved by the Romans shortly after their annexation of the Kingdom in 106 AD. This they did by ruthlessly gouging away a street of houses or tombs in order to extend the rear of the auditorium, which could then accommodate 3000 people.
Elsewhere in the City, was this Byzantine Church. The floor had been re-constructed to show how it would have originally looked.
	For some reason, I look like I am missing one of my teeth in this picture. I am not. While travelling in Jordan, I had been reading “Married to a Bedouin”, the story of Marguerite van Geldermalsen, who visited the city while travelling (There was no internet or stuff like that, seeing the world in 1978 wouldn’t have been easy), married and fell in love with a souvenir seller, and lived with him in a 2000 year old cave. As I wandered around Petra I could here a distinct New Zealand accent, coming from one of the locals. I was delighted to meet Marguerite’s son Raami, who still carried on his fathers business (Mohamed, sadly died in 2003). There is a photo in the book, of a young Raami, in a red high chair, his father constructed. The first thing I said to him was “you’ve met the Queen” ((I knew from the book that Queen of Elisabeth II and Queen Noor visited Petra in 1984). I knew it was really him, as he replied yes, but I was asleep. We had a friendly chat, and he talked about his parents (it was a rare occasion, where I shut my mouth and let someone else speak !). I gave the space pen I had carried around the world to him, and asked him to give it to his mother. I told him that she was an inspiration to me.
Although there are no longer any permanent residents in Petra (which explain the restaurant and modern toilet facilities in this picture), you can still see the cave where Marguerite lived with her family. Its in the middle of the picture, slightly to the left.
	Urn Tomb. You can see how the caves were carved, one above the other, in places 4 stories high. The Urn Tomb was probably constructed around 70 AD. It is preceded by a deep courtyard with colonnades on two sides. High up in the facade there are 3 niches which lead on to small burial chambers. Their inaccessibility would have made them relatively safe from tomb robbers. Inside there is a massive single chamber which may originally have served as a triclinium for funerary banquets, but which was adapted in 446 AD to serve as a Byzantine church, the vaults of which can still be seen below the tombs.
Front of the palace tomb.
	Inside the palace tomb, was this enormous room. How long must it have taken to chisel all of this sandstone out, and how, with primitive technology and tools, did they get the walls so straight.
2000 years of high winds have eroded Petra’s sandstone, to create this effect. This is a classic Petra “hole in the wall” shot, featuring my friend Gill.
	We go to the Basin restaurant for lunch. Long before the residents were moved from Petra, the Basin, was the only Hotel in the area, and was featured extensively in Married to a Bedouin. The Petra museum was right near here. Okay it was interesting, but I couldn’t help wondering what the point was, when you are actually in Petra. Perhaps a Petra museum in Manchester would be more appropriate :).
We head up to the Monastery. Sue poses next to the striking rock, with a view back down to Petra behind.
	This Bedul girl was selling souvenirs, and was preparing some Tea for herself on an open fire. As I have said before, it always inspires me, when I see people using Bushcraft, which to me is a hobby, and to them, just a normal part of daily life. The Bedul are a small tribe of Bedouin who used to live in the caves in Petra until 1985. They farmed in the area and had their goats graze there before being expelled and re-housed in the village of Oum Seyhoun on the edge of the archaeological park. Now most of them make a living from tourism, renting horses or selling trinkets.
As we walked up the hill, we pass through this naturally occurring “doorway”.
	The Monastery. Petra’s largest monument, dates from the first century BC and was dedicated to Obodas I. The monument is known locally as Ad-Deir, and like the Treasury, probably wasn’t a Monastery. To get an idea of its size, the doorway, is 8 meters high.
An enterprising entrepreneur, has converted the cave opposite into a cafe (the Monastery is 200 meters above Petra, and nearly an hours walk from the Basin restaurant).
	To the North of the Monastery, is this plato, with astounding views of Petra and the mountains around.
Having spent the day in Petra, we are given free time. I spend the next 2 hours, walking slowly back to the hotel. The danger in situations like this, is that the expectation of seeing something might be greater than the reality (I’m thinking of Kathmandu and Prague) but this wasn’t the case. Was it worth the 20 year wait ?. Most definitely.
	Petra was not surprisingly, the last destination on the Pyramids to Petra tour. By now my reputation had got around the group, and as a farewell, I was invited to pose in front of this cabinet with several different beer cans in it (the significance was not lost on me). When I arrived back in London, Ralph and Aud gave me a lift, all the way back to Liverpool, which saved me about 8 hours of the day, and I would just like to say thanks.

Tour of Egypt and Jordan – The Dana National Park

31st March 200431st March 2016 admin Dana NP Leave a comment

	We arrive in Aqaba.Our superb guide, collects us from the ferry port, nods at all the right people, and within minutes we are in a coach on the way to our first destination, the Dana National park The flag of the Arab league, said to be the largest flag in the world.
As we travel in the coach, along the famous Kings Highway. Moses was refused permission to travel on this road by the King of EdomOur guide Aladdin makes good use of the time, to teach us about local customs, currency and a little of the language. I sometimes hear people complaining about tips for the guide. In reality, they are less than £20, and an experienced guy like this could save you several hundred pound through his advise and local knowledge. In a way, I feel lucky to have had bad experiences in Beijing on my own, as I now know, just how valuable, people like this really are.
	There was some amazing geology at work, on the mountains and hills along the side of the kings highway.This line through the middle of the rock, occurred naturally, and ran for several miles.
We arrive at the Dana National Park.The now ubiquitous excellent food, but what could beat a roaring fire and homely accommodation.
	In the morning, I wake and go through my gear (I always like to stay on top of routine stuff like this, so that things don’t go missing/I know if anything is broken etc.I don’t remember a more beautiful venue for this routine job, than the balcony overlooking the Nature Park bellow.
All the balcony’s were in a row, and as I look to my left and right, I see that most of the group are up early enjoying the view.
	After breakfast, we all jump in a truck and head down to the national park, in the valley bellow.Private vehicles are banned within the Park (the whole area is environmentally conscious, the recycling bins outside the visitors centre are the only ones in Southern Jordan).
Our truck is halted for a few minutes, as a large group of farmed camels needed to cross the road (well, their herders did, the camels didn’t seem to have any preference).
	Our nature guide (a reformed poacher) showed us around the park.The scenery and weather were brilliant. At one point, he described how, when stalking a particular animal (I forget which) once you saw it, you should move back behind the tree, and approach it from the other angle. He also told us, that when cooking a Badger (protected in the UK, by law) that it takes 9 hours.
The interesting thing about the park, was most of the wildlife, were fairly small, it wasn’t a big game park, and you could explore in almost complete safety.We are shown this beetle. After being handled for just a second, it appears to die, and doesn’t move at all. We leave it, and return a few moments later, the beetle has gone, it was playing dead the whole time.
	Another one of the superb rock formations in this magnificent country.
This magic tree, was alive on one side, and dead on the other. At certain times, it would change, and the “dead” side would come back to life.
	Our guide spots another insect, but advises caution.
It turns out to be a scorpion (this picture is heavily zoomed, I never got less than 4 feet from it).The scorpion stings our guides shoe, and we are shown the sizeable but harmless mark it leaves there.
	This picture is featured on the adventure company web site and their new brochure (I’m famous).Its said that King Hussein of Jordan spent time on this very rock, looking into the valley, in deep contemplation.
The park rangers on the other side of the valley, had camped up and were making coffee.
	As we reach the valley floor, we see the campsite at Rummana, where its possible to stay the night.I wish I could have spent 2 nights there, as I would have loved one night, sleeping out.

Tour of Egypt and Jordan – The Wadi Rum.

31st March 200431st March 2016 admin Uncategorised, Wadi Rum Leave a comment

	The seven pillars of wisdom at the entrance to the Wadi Rum.
The visitor centre at the entrance to Wadi Rum (Wadi Rum is 60km form Aqaba). I bought some souvenirs here, with the help of the excellent Philipa.
	We drive deep into the desert. Our local guides and drivers, are the direct descendents of the people who fought with Laurence of Arabia. The popularity of the area, has spread wealth to some extent, and mobile phones and expensive 4×4’s are not uncommon. That said, although 90% of the Bedouin own houses in the towns, they still prefer to sleep in the desert. There is no doubting, that this Jeep is authentic.
I had expected that we would be roughing it in the desert, but I should have know the Adventure Company better. The tented accommodation, out in the desert, was pretty elaborate. As you can see, this tent has a comfortable bed with clean sheets. I slept soundly all night in here.
	We get the fire lit early. An open fire in the middle of the desert plato, is a difficult scene to capture or describe.
One of the great monoliths, out in the desert.
	We sit out in our Bedouin tent, our guide Aladdin, teaches us to play cards (I had purchased some cards at Dahab with different kinds of fish on them, so I donated them to the enterprise). Obviously most people visiting Wadi Rum want to spend the night in a “Bedouin tent”. I think nearly everybody realises that these tents are not the authentic homes of the Bedouin, but are erected for the tourists. It is nevertheless a special experience to sleep out in the desert.
Later in the evening, a few of us congregate around the (now much smaller) fire.
	We go deeper into the desert our “Indi” Jeep.
The colour of the rock is amazing. I spend a little time relaxing and enjoying the ambience. It was fairly cool in the morning, hence, I am wearing my Fleece.
	Up to the right, near this green bush, is the famous Laurence spring, Named after T E Laurence, aka Laurence of Arabia.
We wander around some truly amazing rock formations, the like of which I have never seen, anywhere else in the world. Sadly I didn’t get to see any rock bridges, they were couple of hours away by drive, and ours was the short tour.
	Our next stop, Khazali Canyon.
This 100m long Canyon, is very thin, but with the light beaming in from above, is pretty exciting to explore.
	One of the Nabatean rock paintings, drawn inside the Canyon.
As I leave the canyon, I see a Bedouin, selling souvenirs at the entrance. A party of school children, were on a trip to the Wadi Rum, and they had left their quilts and sleeping gear with him, while they explored the Canyon. He sold the souvenirs, from a sort of living room sideboard and one thing that occurred to me, was how he got it there ?.
	Wadi Um Ishrin. There are truly enormous Sand Dunes around here. Everybody decided to have a race up one of them. Having done a desert survival course, I know it takes 3 footsteps to cover 1 normal step, when climbing sand uphill so I stay at the bottom and take photo’s.
After only an afternoon/evening and a day, we left the Wadi Rum. There is so much more I would have liked to do there, but I am determined to go back. As we leave, we see these Camels, living wild in the desert.

Capetown and the Garden Route. Finale of the Bluelist (3/3).

31st March 200431st March 2016 admin Capetown 3 Leave a comment

	Up early, we drive to Blukrans bridge (a spectacular feat of engineering)Its the largest single span arch bridge in the world.People were saying at the time, it was the highest bungee jump in the world. Its actually the 3rd, the Macau Tower is the highest at 233m (but only 16m higher). I watch some lunatics jump of the bridge and it turns my stomach.
I decide to do the 2nd of the “must do’s” for the Garden Route and try some Mitchell’s beer.I wander over to the Cliffhanger pub and order a pint.The barman is the most miserable barkeep I have ever met. I pay him 200 rand (you would think he was paying me, from the look on his face) and take my beer outside for this photo. Turns out to be cask ale, which I don’t like. I swig half a pint, then give it back. Thoroughly disappointed, I head over to some stalls nearby to look at carved animals and cheer myself up. I buy a carved giraffe from some Zimbabwe traders, for 120 rand. Our guide explains that unemployment in neighbouring Zimbabwe has led its people to leave their homeland in search of work. This has affected employment ins South Africa significantly.
	90 minutes later, and were at Storms river.We all set off to do the coastal walk. We cross a bolder field, and the ground is (obviously) quite uneven.A few people decide to not to continue, and for no particular reason, I decide to go with them. We find a nice cafe, and I have the fish cakes I have been wanting to eat all week, along with 2 really nice cups of coffee (it was one of those sort of non adventure days, when I just felt like relaxing). I pop into the shop and buy a small carved black lion (my collection of hand carved African animals is growing).
There were some really nice chalets here, which some other Garden Route travellers were staying in. I wished we’d done the same.We headed out to visit the suspension bridge.The path through the Tsitsikamma National Park, was really relaxing and although steep in parts, was very even under-foot.
	Turned out that there were several suspension bridges interconnected together.When I had crossed suspension bridges in Borneo, we were told to only cross, 1 person at a time. The sign next to these said no more than 25 people at a time !
Next we travel to Cape Agulhas.This monument, marks the cape, the most southern point in Africa.My guidebook, said if you go swimming, swim on the left, as the Indian Ocean is warmer. In reality, it makes no difference. I’ve said before, that SA people, are fairy straight up and no nonsense. Its here where the common phrase “you cant swim to 2 oceans” takes its name. It means simply, don’t sit on the fence.
	I was surprised how quiet it was. No souvenir shops, hotels, ice cream vendors etc.Its also one of a few places on earth, that has zero declination (if you know about navigation, that will mean something to you, if not read this).
Cape Agulhas, means literally Cape of Needles in Portuguese, as its filled with tiny coral shards. These have sunk around 250 vessels in the last 200 years.This lighthouse isn’t an old relic designed to look quaint, its actually fully functioning.It is reckoned to save thousands of lives every year as ships navigate the clipper route.
	We continue driving to Hermanus and stop off for something to eat at a service station.You don’t see firewood, in many service stations in the UK.While here, I decided to buy a copy of FHM to read on the journey (I was a regular reader for 6 years, but went of it a bit. Since then its expanded, and there’s actually one written just for South Africa). They haven’t lost their way, and the magazine was full of “take the piss” articles. It kept mentioning Oke’s. I Didn’t know what that meant, but Charl explained it was South African slang for mates.
We arrive at Hermanus, the number one location in the world, for watching Whales from land.I was delighted to find that we are staying at a hotel right on the waterfront, near Walker Bay.I put my rucksack into my room, and head out exploring. There is a whale in the harbour. To me, it could be an old Tyre at that distance, but the locals recognise it by name. I sit looking out to sea, drinking a glass of lager, entertained by a xylophone player.
	I see the famous Whale crier (a job unique in all the world, he blows his vuvusela when I whale is sighted (their common now, since the world cup, but it was the first time id seen (or heard one)).I try to photograph him, but some young South Africans with water pistols are causing him some discomfort and he beats a hasty retreat.He returns later, and I’m able to get this photo. As much as traveling, is about trekking in Borneo and meeting tribesmen, its also about experiencing modern culture, which years from now may be discussed with significance. South Africa are due to play Rugby that afternoon. I find a bar to watch the game. Inside, there are several specific groups speaking privately. Xosa, Zulu, dozens of others I don’t know (there are 11 national language in SA) along with the 2 white tribes, British and Afrikaner. Then the match starts, and the pub just sort of merges into one unit (I’m not saying this out of romanticism, I saw it with my own eyes). Months after returning home, I would watch the film Invictus, which explained everything. Only sport can unify people in this way, after 400 years of separation and segregation. Its dark outside so I head back to the hotel. Hot chocolate and I watch Stargate Universe on my laptop. I find annoyingly, that one of the episodes has no sound. I watch it anyway and try to work out the plot from the pictures.
Next morning I’m up early for breakfast. They have everything you could want, but no crusty buttered bread !.A group walk is scheduled for the morning, and optional whale watching boat trip in the afternoon. I decide to opt out of both, and have the day to myself.I find a coastal path along the harbour. The Fernkloof nature reserve, cliff path, which I follow for several miles. Every now and then I venture off the path and explore the coastal rocks and vegetation. Having set of early, I get back at 10:45. An organized tour of the town is scheduled for 11am, but only runs with a minimum of 2 people. With nobody else there, the very decent chap, refuses my offer of paying for 2, and recommends some key sites, and highlights of the towns 3 museums for nothing.
	I visit the photographic museum first. There are loads of interesting pictures, but best of all, is a sharks mouth, from the record breaking lb2000 caught in the harbour by rod (not the name of the person who caught it !).In my teenage years, I had a job on the markets and carried 50lb bags of potatoes. When I think of how heavy that was, I wonder how the catch was even possible.Earlier that morning, I’ve seen some sea kayaks and go down to the shore to investigate. R300 for 2hrs. Money has gone really well on the trip, but from experience, the day before going home, is the time when most people let their guard down and overspend (and sometimes end up sat in an airport with no money to buy coffee !). I continue exploring around the town and decide to get my hair cut. They seem quite surprised, but do a cracking job for R80, which I round up to R100. I pop to the cash point to reload and mentally calculating the exchange rate, I withdraw my cash. I realise that in my head, the decimal point was in the wrong place. Instead of Â£40, I have withdrawn £4, and paid £2.50 for the privilege !.
I go back and get the correct amount before making my way to the whale museum.Staff there are really laid back (receptionist is playing cards, on windows 95).The manager explains “Things are pretty formal in the week, but at weekends we don’t give a toss”. I’m growing to love the mannerisms of the Afrikaners. There is a large whale skeleton, but its plastic. Some of the interesting exhibits make up for it. I debate buying a whale poster. The danger is always buying with the feel good factor, and then getting home and realising that you wasted time and money buying tat. When I buy something, its either put on display in my living room, or stored in a special box for memories, which I open each year on my Birthday and New Years day. I apply this to every souvenir, and if it wont fit into either of these 2 categories, then I simply don’t buy it.
	I continue exploring and find a boutique shopping mall (while looking for a life is good T-shirt, I don’t already have).I bump into the Ozmonds (the pet name I have found for a charming Australian couple in our group). They have both had their haircut as well !.I just cant find a carved black hippo that I really want to add to my collection of miniature animals. After much searching I find an enamel Zebra.
I go back to the hotel and get cleaned up, then head to the Fisherman’s Rest, where we are all meeting for our final evening out.The restaurant has a bar, I grab a bottle of beer and sit quietly in the corner.I think about the book that inspired this trip. The Courtney family, live at a place called Weltevreden (which I have mispronounced for 20 years). It means simply – well satisfied. I decide that’s how I’m feeling. One thing about me, is that when I’m completely relaxed, I sort of shut down, and people who don’t know me, think I’m miserable, when the total opposite is true. The owners jokingly bullied me into having a 2nd photo taken (which you can see by moving over this one) with me smiling. The staff are friendly and good humoured, with an astute knowledge of foul language. I order Steak medallions, the meal is quite delicious. Afterwards we go to a bar called the Zebra crossing. Our waiter joins us and insists on buying everyone a drink !.
	The next day we drive back to Capetown to the V&A docks, with the intention of visiting Robben Island.As we wander around, I recognise the famous red clock. What isn’t widely known, is that it incorporates a quirky mechanism to measure tidal levels.Its a beautiful day, and a leg of the round-the-world yacht race is being run from here.
I continue wandering (the boat doesn’t leave for 45 minutes).Away from the bustle of shoppers, amongst a crop of Carob trees, is Nobel Square with Table mountain behind it.It features statues of South Africa’s 4 Nobel Peace Prize Winners. Most people can name the obvious 3. Nelson Mandela and F W De clerk won it jointly, and Archbishop Desmond Tutu. The 4th, is Albert Luthuli a former leader of the ANC.
	We board the Catamaran for Roben Island. It takes about 40 minutes and I find myself talking to a couple about Hitler.As we travel over, Table mountain is behind us. Its only 8 days since I climbed it, but it feels so long ago now.
As we disembark, there was a plaque:While we will not forget the brutality of apartheid, we will not want Robben Island to be a monument to our hardship and suffering. We would want Robben Island to be a monument … reflecting the triumph of the human spirit against the forces of evil. A triumph of non-racialism over bigotry and intolerance. A triumph of a new South Africa over the old.We are shown to 3 buses and given a tour of the island.
	Our guide is charming and well informed. He explains that the Island was originally a leper colony.He comments that calling lepers, lepers, is wrong, as it brands them as though they asked for the disease.He shows us the house of Robert Sobukwe the leader of the Pan Africanist Congress. He explained that Sobukwe had been detained without charge for 6 years after his sentence ended. He gave an explanation of the group areas act and how the “dompass” permit system was used to control non-whites during apartheid.
The prison complex looked a lot more civilised than I had expected, but it was explained that everything changed after 1977 when photo’s of the conditions were smuggled out by the Red Cross.
	The Lime quarry where inmates were made to mine (it had a serious effect on their health.On the top left of the picture, is the Lime cave. It was used as a lecture theatre to share information about the armed struggle.The prison guards never bothered to check what went on inside, they presumed the the inmates used it as a toilet.
We are introduced to a different guide, who explained what daily life was like, food exercise etc.He explained that ordinary criminals had tv and then said simply “our” news was recorded from the radio, so it could be censored.It was obvious that he had been an inmate here as a teenager.
	Nelson Mandela’s cell, with the stool he made himself. Its about 4 foot by 8.I started thinking of Mandela’s favorite poem Invictus, that would inspire a film, some months later.Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll. I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. William Ernest Henley
Nelson Mandela’s Garden, where his book The Long Walk to Freedom was written.We walk back to the Jetty. I feel a bit down again. My flight home is in a few hours and I don’t know what’s waiting for me when I get back.Will I find another job in time or will I lose my home ?. Will I have to give up working in IT and leave the vocation I love ?. Its then that it occurs to me. Nelson Mandela lived here for 19 years. He must have looked across the water to the mainland and dreamed every day of simply going home. I decide to stop being selfish. Inspired by my surroundings I reach inside myself and find my determination. I climb onto the deck of the Catamaran, taking the first steps home. Everything is going to be okay.

Capetown and the Garden Route. Finale of the Bluelist (2/3).

31st March 200431st March 2016 admin Capetown 2 Leave a comment

	The world cup was still several months away, and the stadium at Green Point in Capetown was under construction (the previous stadium had been demolished in 2007). I really wanted South Africa to win, in the same way that they did in the Rugby world cup, 15 years earlier (the events are shown in the film Invictus). Sadly that didn’t happen, but loads of people had a good time visiting the country and Vuvuzela has become a household word !.
On our way to the Stellenbosch wine lands, we stop of at the Kirstenbosch. Although his main home is in London, Wilbur Smith owns a house here. On the eastern slopes of table mountain, it covers over 36 Hectares and is one of the most spectacular gardens of its kind, in the world. Kirstenbosch, the most beautiful garden in Africa.
	It isn’t just for frumpy botanists and gardening types. Just like the botanical gardens in Sydney its designed to reach out to everyone. As I set off walking around, I saw this stage being erected for a music festival. I headed up hill, along Rhodes drive, to get a better view of the whole park.
There were many specialised sections like medicinal plants, mountain flowers and stuff like that. There was a mixture of open spaces and more secluded paths like this one. I only had 3 hours to see it all, and I didn’t want waste a minute.
	I walked along a section of the Skeleton Gorge path. Jan Smuts walked this rout most days, well into his 70’s and I was proud to have walked in his footsteps.
Henry Pearson, the designer of the gardens is buried here. On his grave it says simply “If you took the time to find this grave. Look around.” We left the gardens and headed for Stellenbosch. We spent the night in an Afrikaner home. There was a large organ in the living room, and black and white photo’s of the owners ancestors, going back to the first Dutch settlers. These were the people that Smith wrote about in all his books and I feel like I’ve come home (even though I’m on the other side of the world). There was a bible next to every bed in the house, and for the first time in some years, I found myself reading it before drifting off to sleep.
	Stellenbosch is known internationally for its wine and we had a full morning planned experiencing it. Our first stop, was the Bergkelder. Here, they don’t grow grapes but buy them. They are made into wine and stored inside a hollowed out mountain. Our guide Lientjie was really helpful and friendly. She was obviously from Afrikaner stock. Power of the Sword (the Wilbur Smith novel that had inspired my trip) was set around the 40’s and 50’s and mentioned that it was very rare for British and Afrikaners to inter marry. I asked our guide Charl if this was still the case. He said that doesn’t really happen any more, South Africa is a truly multicultural country, not just in law, but in attitude.
We went into the mountain and saw some of its famous carved barrels from 1969. We tried 5 different wines. We had eaten a small breakfast and no lunch, so the cold dark corridor, came alive with giddy laughter. I’m quite new to wine tasting. Each time Lientjie would discuss the smell and taste of the wine. This was quite strange as it always seemed familiar, but I couldn’t think of what. Then she would say common associations are dark chocolate, ripe banana or cigar box and I would instantly connect.
	Wealthy people, can actually store their own wine here. Here, Mark Shuttleworth, the first African in space, has some cases in storage.
Standing next to the tour bus, with my authentic bottle of Stellenbosch wine. It cost less than a fiver, and drunk later that evening. They have a web site, and when finances pick up, I’m going to order another and have it flown over !.
	Our next stop is a vineyard called Knorhoek. Outdoors this time, it had an open air party feel. £1.50 for 5 wines. Our guide this time, asked if she could give us a 6th for free. As we leave Stellenbosch, I realise that I haven’t seen the university or any of Cape Dutch architecture.
Our guide Charl points out this hills. When the Afrikaners left to set up the orange free state, they actually had to dig out these roads and paths, to get over the mountains. We stop at a shopping centre to get some lunch. A security guard with an automatic pistol and AK47 is standing in the foyer. Strange, as everyone around looked happy and comfortable (perhaps that’s why 🙂 I read in my guidebook that there is a famous zoo nearby and I ask to visit it. The Adventure Company stipulate ethical travel, so its off the agenda. Someone in the van explains that anyway, a Wolf and an Aardvark could never mate anyway. We arrive at Oudtshoorn Ostrich farm.
	I hadn’t expected much from this part of the trip, but ended up fascinated by the whole thing. Our highly enthusiastic guide, showed us a DVD of how Ostriches are farmed. It basically involves removing eggs (the Ostrich doesn’t mind, as long as their are a few left) and taking them to an incubator. Amazingly, the Ostrich will actually compensate, by having more eggs. This artificial increase, is the key to the process. Its an amazing way to farm meat, in a warm arid environment.
A few of the interesting things I found out: An Ostrich can move its throat to the side or back of its neck to protect its windpipe. The Ostriches have tags to stop in-breeding. One Ostrich egg is enough for 15 people. 12% of ostriches are infertile. Farmed this way, an Ostrich egg is “good for meat” in 14 months. Eggs are very strong, but this is mainly down to the fluid inside and the sand normally found at its base.
	The excellent presentation, finished with a rather silly “donkey derby” type race with Ostriches. We leave the Ostriches and head back to the van. Its spontaneously decided that we should visit the Cango caves.
We are introduced to our guide Ilse. She shows us around the 1st chamber, which is easily the biggest open area, I have ever seen underground. The lights are dimmed, to simulate what it would be like, lit with only 1 candle, to view it as its first discoverers had. The 2nd chamber was smaller, but well worth the visit, and the 3rd, had not had its floor levelled, so we could see what it would have been like to “walk” around the others before they were finished.
	Some years earlier, the caves had been used for a rock concert. It was pointed out, that this would never be repeated as several priceless pieces of rock had been vandalized by thieves. It wouldn’t have mattered if their consciences had made them return them as they could never be re-connected to the original stone. The Stalactites like this one, had been both Carbon and Uranium dated. I know some people get claustrophobic, but I absolutely love being underground in places like this.
In the evening we go to back to our chalets, and have an indoor bbq, cooked by Charl. The food is delicious, and after some thought, I decide not to risk my wine on the plane, and share it with everyone. In the morning, I avoid the communal breakfast, and instead make some hot chocolate, and sit quietly on the grass. As we load up the van, everyone compliments me on how lightly I pack. I explain that I wear Rohan clothing.
	We stop at a beach called heaven. Charl explains that its famous for some reason and where it gets its name. Lost in the moment, so didn’t remember any of it (sorry). We have 2 hours to relax on the beach. A few people go for a swim. Others kick a football around. I walk along the beach with Simon and Gill. It stretches out for miles. The ocean, the sky and the sand under my bare feet made for a remarkable experience.
We arrive at Knysna (pronounced nysna). Driving around the lagoon we get the first glimpse of our accommodation. I always wanted to stay in a log cabin. I sort of thought I would be in Norway or Sweden, not South Africa, when it finally happened !. Quite small but had a chacuzzi, and a balcony (which I later decide to sleep on).
	We walk to the famous Knysna heads. The lake in Knysna was the inspiration for the lagoon sea battle at the end of Wilbur Smiths Blue horizon. I find a small cafe next to the water and have a coffee, enjoying this amazing view. I still couldn’t get over how inexpensive everything was.
An amazing site and probably the worlds most dangerous port due to tides (the saltwater ocean meets the freshwater feed, right in the middle of the lake). On the other side of the heads is a nature reserve called Featherbed. There was a debate about whether we should visit it. At £26 I thought it was too expensive.
	There’s a nice pub near our cabin so I stop by for a pint (its around 5pm and the pub is filling with after work drinkers) The sight of people smoking really surprised me (the smoking ban in the UK has been in force for several years). I’m joined by our guide Charl, who I’ve mentioned a few times before. A really cracking bloke, I learned loads of useful and interesting things from him (and he looked like Rob from Woodsmoke). He was also a keen Wilbur Smith fan, and we frequently discussed which was his best work. One thing we did agree on, was his most recent book Assagi was awful, and reads like a Mills & Boon 🙁 There used to be a song in a tedious TV program in the UK, called Spitting Image. The song said something about, I’ve never met a nice South African. Well, that just wasn’t my experience at all. The people I met were all friendly and personable. The thing I did notice, was they were practical, plain speaking and would stand for no nonsense. I think that may be where the cultural misunderstanding comes from.
I wander into town to buy some souvenirs. I stop at a cyber cafe, grab a bottle of beer and catch up on my e-mail. Henrik, Nadiah and my brother David have all e-mailed me with congratulations about completing the bluelist. I arrive early for dinner at the fisherman’s rest. A charming waitress called Melinda shows me to my table, as the other members of my group arrive. In the guidebook, its says 2 things you must try on the Garden Route are eating freshly caught fish, and drinking Mitchell’s bear. I decide its time for the first one. Back home, its normally cod or haddock, but here its hake and served in a skillet, its delicious.
	We never get to visit a traditional township. The closest I got, was when we drove passed one, and I quickly took this photo.