My friend Frank and I decided to go to the Alps and walk the Tour de Mont Blanc.The walk is a total of 230 miles and ascends and descends a total of 30,000 feet over 3 countries.
Unfortunately, due to poor planning by me, we ended up arriving in Geneva, after the last bus had left.I helpful woman at the booking desk got us a room in the Ibis (just near the Airport, and walkable to Geneva).We used to opportunity for a quick kit check, and then headed into Geneva for a few Beers.
	We got the bus the next day to Chamonix, then walked to our camp site.The camp site was very well run (as most European ones are) but the guy in charge was nasty most of the time, and I didn’t know (and after a while care) why.This is the campsite restaurant/bar, which we visited a couple of times.
Frank and I wandered around the mountaineering Mecca, Chamonix and have lunch.
	The Mere de Glass, an enormous glacier in Chamonix. Its name literally means sea of ice.Its possible to get a train from the valley, up to here. Its spectacular to look at, but I feel is spoiled by a silly ice museum with Piano’s and Chairs made of ice.I just don’t think a site of breathtaking natural beauty needs this, its a distraction.
Just to show how things change/don’t change.This is a picture of the bar balcony, overlooking the Mere de Glass, when I first visited the alps aged 23.
	This is a picture of the bar balcony, overlooking the Mere de Glass, when I visited it on the Tour de Mont Blanc, aged 35.
Gaillands: a famous rock climbing crag on the edge of Chamonix town, by woods and lakes.
	We set off on the TMB, from Chamonix.We got the train and tram, to the Col de Voza and set off (we decided that the walk from Chamonix to the Col de Voza would make an interesting day walk and picnic, when we got back).
After a few hours on the trial, we come to a wire bridge, and I get a picture of Frank crossing it.
	After an awful night in one of the huts (Frank was snoring, but had earplugs in, so he couldn’t hear it, but the 50 other people we were lay next to could !).Enough about that, we got up early, the sun was shining, and we began walking into Italy.
As we crossed the “border” (there was only a sign, no guards, or diplomats, or anything like that)We descended down the side of a hill, and you could hear a glacier breaking up, across the valley. One of the most beautiful sites I have ever seen.
	Me pausing on the trail in Italy.
The new Rifugio Elena.The view from the balcony was beautiful, and we sat out all afternoon, drinking beer. We decided to get an on-suite room as “communal living”, wasn’t really us.The previous refuge here was destroyed by avalanche, and the new one is half-buried in the hillside.
	Off all the places we passed on our travels, I thought that Italy was the most inspiring.Around my neck I am wearing a perry whistle and a mini torch on some “Para” cord.In Raiders of the lost Ark, you see Indiana Jones, put a hat, a gun, and a bull whip into his suitcase and you know the adventure has begun. When I put on my whistle and torch, I feel the same!
We cross into Switzerland, and pause for a photograph, a drink and a sit down.
	Crossing a bridge in Switzerland. The water was a lot cleaner than the stuff in Chamonix.
We arrive in Champex exhausted.Because we decided to do the TMB in 7 days, we were walking 2 suggested legs each day, rather than 1, and most of the time arrived after 7pm, when all of the cheap accommodation was goneIt turned out to be a blessing this time, as there were only rooms available in the most expensive hotel, and it was like a picture postcard.
	Frank sits on the Balcony, and has a Beer, while I have a shower.We sat out on the balcony all evening (it overlooked the town and the lake).
Having completed the walk, we have a celebration drinking session, back in Chamonix.

	On the first day of the course, we went to a glacier to practice moving around with crampons and ice axes, and stuff like that.I was delighted to find, that all my equipment worked perfectly.
Everyone puts on their equipment.
	Phil instructs in the use of ice axes, and moving accross uneven ground.
The group practice ice climbing on a conveniently sized ice wall.
	That evening, the lads I was sharing an apartment with, decided to practice crevasse rescue (a key technique in Alpine mountaineering) in the living room !.
The following day, we set off, for a 2 day excursion to the Dix Alpine hut. This is a picture of the hut in the distance, as we walked up from Arolla.Although I was much fitter than before, everyone else had been getting fitter as well, and I quickly found myself at the back. The walking poles I bought were really useful, and I reminded myself of the Brian Tracey quote “by the yard its hard, but by the inch its a synch”.
	The Dix hut from outside.It was a beautiful hut, and all the more beautiful for being so isolated. A few of the locals had brought 3 generations of their family up for dinner, and the evening out. They even had Swiss army knives with the hut name and logo on them (I bought one for Sarah).
The cost of drinks in the hut, was a little expensive, but I had a few beers and wine, and the evening was quite fun.The first night, couldn’t sleep due to the altitude, but by the 2nd night, I was fine.
	It’s very hard to get an Alpine guide to pose seriously for a picture.
In the hut during the evening, the mountain rescue helicopter landed outside and many of the Children (and me) all went outside to watch it take off.
	In the morning, we got up to do various activities. The view from the hut was impressive.In the bottom left of the picture is a PYB instructor called Martin, who had been to the top of Everest.
This mountain was the first thing you could see, when you walked out of the front door, of the hut.I could hardly believe the angle of this mountain, the sides formed almost a perfect triangle.
	A glacier up towards the Pign D Arrola.A few of the lads actually got to climb this, but although I was much fitter than previous trips, the blisters on my feet limited me a bit.
Instead, I walked back from the hut with Phil a qualified Alpine guide (it is illegal to guide or lead in France or Switzerland without this qualification).
	Phil showed me this mountain, and with his help I got to the top. At 3015 metres it is the highest I have ever climbed.I ended up going home, the following day, but I had a brilliant time. I would like to thank Twid and Martin, and especially Phil from PYB for an amazing trip and for all their help and assistance.

I’ve converted some pages recently, relating to mountains and jungle trips that I did a while ago, have a read and post something on the site if you think their interesting :).

Otherwise, not much to report this time.

After 2 consecutive weekends away and most of summer spent in search of adventure, I had a weekend at home catching up on maintenance, putting up pictures and stuff like that.

Above is a cabinet I assembled on Sunday.

It worked out quite well, as Nikki is away with friend in Lisbon, so I was at a lose end anyway.

I’ve got loads of things done in advance of my re-launch Barbecue in a couple of weeks.

With my new kitchen, I was able to make some Jamie Oliver recipes including these Beef & Guinness pies

	In Preparation for my first mountaineering trip to the Alps, I did a 2 day, introduction to mountaineering course with Alpine Guides (www.alpine-guides.com)After my experiences, I decided that I would visit Scotland in winter, every year.
I arrived on a Friday evening, after a 9 hour train journey at Fort William in Scotland.The fine details had been taken care of, even to the point of having a bath in my room, rather than a shower !.I laid out my stuff to get organized, then went down to the bar, to meet the organizers and course members and plan the weekend, over a pint.
	Our guide explained the many options available too us, but although everyone in England thinks Scotland is carpeted in snow 6 months of the year, this isn’t always the case.He recommended Anoch Mor, as it had a cable car, and we could get straight to the “action”.Our guide Matt (a qualified Alpine guide), Bill (a bloke very similar to myself, who does a rewarding “ordinary” job, but in his spare time, seeks out adventure,) and me, in my Buffalo top which I was keen to test.
As we got of the cable car, there was a Cafe/Bar called the snow goose.The cable car stops around 4:30 each day, and it is reckoned that 30% of the people on the hill, don’t make it, and end up walking back down.From the cable car, its possible to see the 2004,mountain biking world championship track. Although its would take 2 hours to walk up, it only takes a world class rider an average of 5 minutes to descend using the track !
	The Skiers chair lift was closed, so it took nearly 2 hours to climb the staircase-like hill to the top.Although the Buffalo shirt kept me warm, when walking up hill, I just couldn’t keep cool enough.
We were taught various things about winter mountaineering, such as weather and navigation.We practised doing ice axe arrests (stopping yourself slipping down a hill, using an ice axe).We found a snow hole someone had dug. It was amazing how warm it was inside.
	The view down easy gully. I was lowered down on a rope, and climbed out, using my crampons and ice axes.I loved being out in the snow. I learned so much on the course.Before, if I was on a hill walk, and there was snow, I would have avoided it, now, I would get my gear and head straight for it.
As well as the many skills we learned, we also got to do a mountaineering route.Here me, Matt and Bill are photographed on the peak of Anoch Mor. It was a fantastic feeling getting to the top.I am wearing my hat, which I lost. Bill was really genuine and commented that it really was an awfully hat. Hearing this, from someone like him, convinced me to give it straight to the charity shop.
	On the way back from the peak, we experienced a white out. It was exciting, and slightly scary.I took a picture with my camera, and this is all that came out !
We did various other mountain skill on the 2nd day, and even got a go at ice climbing.Here, we climb a route called the web. I was really cold when we did it, and even commented that I wouldn’t do anything like this again.A climber nearby said, everyone says that. When you get home, you will change your mind. He was right. I am going to do it again.
	The course ran on Saturday and Sunday, and on Monday, I had arranged a private days guiding with a guide called Mark.I spent a whole day being taught specialist mountaineering skills, and the finer practical points of the art, such as where and how to carry an ice axe etc.I practised walking across mixed terrain for more than 3 hours to get completely comfortable moving on snow, ice and rock. I didn’t get a moment to take any pictures, so this is the view from the web.
After each days mountaineering, we had a drink at the “goose” whilst waiting for the cable car.I like Tea and Coffee normally, but the taste of either, after a day on the hill, is too good to be described.Bill and Matt walking off the hill, viewed from inside the bar. I would like to thank Twid, for an amazing course, and my 2 guides Matt and Mark. Also, a quick thank you to the staff of the Alexander hotel who were kind and friendly to me whilst there.

	While working through my bluelist, I kept hearing mention of the Inca Trail.I like to walk anyway, and had never been to South America, so I took the rare step of modifying the bluelist, and adding the Inca Trail and Machu Picchu to it.I flew via Amsterdam to Lima, and then From Lima to Cusco.Unfortunately, 6 people had cancelled due to the earthquake, so only 5 of us remained (including Danny Quinn, the stalwart of, Off the Wall in Chester).We set off from Kilometre 86.
We walk down from the drop off point, cross the railway lines, and then head across this shaky bridge that crosses the Urubamba river.
	The first part of the trail, wasn’t very steep, and we set of at a cracking pace.I thought that Dan was walking a bit too fast, so I called him back for a photo op.Sadly, the weather wasn’t exactly Malaga.
We are passed by the Hiram Bingham train.Its a first class train, which travels from Cusco to Machu Picchu, serving cocktails and five course meals.It answered one question I had. Where are the Japanese (I hadn’t seen any the whole morning on the trail).Turns out, they mainly travel on this train, then stay at the mundane hotel, at Machu Picchu itself.The tourist train cost $50, the Hiram Bingham, cost $500.
	We stop for lunch across from Llaqtapata.Manco Inca Yupanqui, destroyed this, along with a number of settlements along the Inca trail during his retreat from Cusco in 1536.He did this to discourage Spanish pursuit. In part due to these efforts, the Spanish never discovered the Inca trail or any of its settlements.
Carlos (our guide) stops to re-supply on water (and we re-supply on Toblerone, Kitkat and other necessities).The shop is optimistically named “Shopping Centre” which I think overstates it a bit. They offered to take Mastercard, which will probably save the odd traveller from hardship.Also, after lunch, Carlos switched from his trainers, to walking boots, and we knew the terrain would get a little rougher.
	The guidebook had said to be wary of dogs when walking into a village.It said that the locals, will typically throw stones at dogs that bound towards you and try to bite you.It went on to say, that if you couldn’t bring yourself to do that, you should bend over, as though picking up a stone.In reality, all the dogs I saw, were like this one. Grade 4, without a care in the world.
This appalling picture, probably shouldn’t have been put up, but its the closest I have ever got, to actually stalking and photographing a deer.It was in the woods, on the left hand side of the path.
	We walked up hill some more, walked down into a valley, and then walked out of it again.Finally about half an hour up these steep steps, and we were at our campsite.
We arrive at our campsite.There was only us, and one other group staying here, so it was quite nice for the first evening.It also had a turf floor, which was quite comfortable.Dan and I realised that we had been given “Personal” tents. We decided to share one, and let the girls have one each.Here Ashima, unpacks her gear, and works out how to set up all the camping gear she purchased (which has secured the pensions of several salesmen at Blacks outdoor leisure), while Dan’s expression is timeless. The tents weren’t in a particularly straight line.
	It was still early days in the trip, and we wandered around the camp, just before dinner.We found this stream with some pretty cool “rapids” which we tried to photograph in artistic ways.
This little girl lived near the camp site, and kept coming over to explore.She was really friendly (her older sister sold Bottles of coke and stuff like that).On the morning we set off, she had a go at climbing Ash’s walking poles.
	We have our “meet your family” ceremony. Our Porters, Cook, Lead Porter and Guide take it in turns to introduce themselves, then we do the same.The guy with the hat bending down, is the lead porter. At one point, he teased the small guy in front of him, by using the bag scales to way him (he wasn’t very big, but carried the same weight as everyone else).We all had to say whether we were married, how many children we had etc. Ash was able to speak directly in Spanish (the rest of us had to be translated by the guide) and there was a knowing silence, when Ashima told them that she was single.I told them that I was married for the 2nd time. They were all staunch Roman Catholics, it can take years to save for a wedding in Peru, and they seemed shocked and disgusted that someone would get divorced.Once I explained that I came from Manchester (the home of United) they were happy again.
Some of the bridges we crossed were very “Bushcraft” in design (well they would be, they were made by real village dwellers, not computer analysts who pay to go into the woods and learn how to light fires !).
	The route along the trail, was very well organised and policed.I had actually wondered, whether all the stuff about trekking permits really mattered.We had to pass by a checkpoint and show our passports. Our guide had to show his permit, and the Porters bags had to be weighed.A porter isn’t allowed to carry more than 20kg. This means each of us, can only give them 7kg each to carry. It was quite a problem managing for 5 days with just 7kg of gear, and most of us, put extra stuff in our day packs to compensate.
There aren’t many pictures of the 2nd day, as it was physically very demanding (that’s a very euphemistic way of describing it).I was pleased though, that we got it done on the 2nd day.The highest point in the trail, is dead woman’s pass, at 4200m.Most of you will know, that 4000m is a magic number for mountaineers, and here I am photographed reaching that height under my own steam for the first time.
	After a gruelling couple of hours, I reach the top of the pass.The rest of the group, were already there, and had time to compose themselves.You can see from my expression what was going through my mind.
For the previous 45 minutes, I had felt very sick, and I know once I got to the top, I had to get down again pretty quickly.This beautiful path led down through the valley, and into the campsite.Although I was last to the top, I was first to the bottom.
	I didn’t like this campsite very much as it only had 2 toilets between the whole camp, and felt like we were camped in someone’s living room.The ground was very hard to sleep on, wouldn’t have been a problem normally, but the previous day was very hard, and I needed my sleep.The other thing I couldn’t stand, was camp etiquette. At every campsite I have visited around the world, there is an understanding that you keep the noise down after a certain time. Two woman visiting the toilet at 3am, thought it perfectly okay to walk past our tent and conduct a conversation.
Having not slept for more than 45 minutes continuously, I was feeling pretty miserable the next morning.It was raining as we set of walking uphill (much less steep than the previous day).We stop to visit Runcuracay ruins. I correctly guessed that this was of strategic military importance, due to its location in the valley.
	After lunch on the 3rd day, I finally found what I had been looking for on the Inca Trail.There were beautiful stone paths, high up in the mountains, which led through rainforest.
Carlos showed us much of the local plant life.
	It was explained that the Inca Trail had been secret and sacred.It was designed as a Pilgrimage for high born people to walk, and worship along the way.One novel thing I found, was, if only high born people could walk the trail, who would carry the bags.The answer ?. Llama’s.
There were points on the trail, where the Inca’s had tunnelled through rock, and carved steps into the stone floor.
	After much upheaval, a quiet moment of contemplation for me.This is what I had always imagined the Inca Trail to be like.
As arrived at our camp, we had a go at photographing a nearby Glacier.The Inca Trail is surrounded by mountain, some of them are nearly 6000m high.
	This campsite was much quieter, and it was like our own village.I really wish we had been able to have a campfire , unfortunately, these are banned, and I went to bed at 7:30pm (it was very cold at that altitude).To show how changeable the weather was, take a look at this picture.
Ten minutes later, the camp (photographed from the same position) looked like this.Twenty minutes after that, it looked like the first picture again.
	We set of trekking down hill, with the intention of visiting Winawyna for lunch.
Puyupatamarca, a ruin, very close to our camp site.
	As we descended into the tree canopy, it became quite dark.We reach Winaywayna, easily the best facilities of any campsite on the trail, it has a bar and showers.Half our porters had stayed with us until this point, to provide a farewell lunch. The rest had travelled to Aguas Calientes to deposit our bags at the hotel where we would be spending that night.
We catch a glimpse of the the Urubamba river, which marked the start of the Trek.
	After some confusion, and the checkpoint being closed, we set off on the last leg of the trip.It was uphill, and my legs were still stiff from the ordeal at dead woman pass, but it was with a sense of expectation and achievement that we forged on.
We reach Intipunku, the Sun gate, which overlooks Machu Picchu.By this point, I wasn’t fit to be photographed, so I took a picture of Ash instead (Danny was busy setting up Camera’s and stuff like that).
	The photo that people always associate with Machu Picchu, is the one taken from the Sungate.Unfortunately, it was very cloudy that day, and this was the best picture I could get.
With heightened spirits, we walk down to Machu Picchu to complete the trek.
	Soaking wet, with more than 151 insect bites, toothache, AMS and boils I finally complete the trek, and stand in the ancient city of Machu Picchu.I said at the time, that I wish I had done the tour, and got the train instead, but on reflection now, I am glad I did it.We had the whole of the next day free to visit Machu Picchu, and our hotel was waiting. After a few minutes to soak up the atmosphere, we board a bus for Aguas Calientes and visit our hotel.
I spent the afternoon visiting local monasteries, and finding my “centre” after such an enlightening experience.Get real !, this is a John Sunter adventure. I hooked up with Dan, in a nearby Boozer and we had some Ale !.Thanks to Jennifer @ the Adventure Company, Our guide Carlos, and our Porters and Cook (who all had unpronounceable names).

	Whilst walking the Inca Trail, I traversed above 4200m over a mountain pass.4000m is the magic number for mountaineers (of which I am not actually one, but I can dream) and I had never actually done a 4000m peak.Mount Kinabalu (which lends its name to Kota Kinabalu) is the highest mountain in South East Asia, standing at 4095m.
Quit a few of the people on the trip had climbed Kinabalu previously and didn’t want to do it again.There were just 4 of us this time, Jason, Sarah, Richard and Me.The gate on a building near to the start of the walk gave this warning. I wasn’t sure if it meant strange looking people will be threatened with 1st WW rifles, or perhaps that people with unauthorised firearms would be intimidated by strange dancing men !.
	Our guide Johan showed us this board which outlined the route.Start to finish, the peak is 8 kilometres.That’s about 3 times my daily walk to work, much steeper though, so it was going to be a lot harder.
This board shows the world records in different classes, for speed ascents of the route.Two and a half hours odd to the top of the mountain seemed un-imaginable.
	The walk to the start of the route was really relaxing and we passed this waterfall.Annoyingly all the comfort of the walk downhill to the start had to be made good as we were now at an even lower altitude than at the start.
Once again, the Park fee’s we paid had been put to good use.The guides were all licensed, and carried identity cards and official credentials.There were ready prepared steps throughout most of the lower sections of the walk and occasionally handrails like this one.
	What was cool, was to see the change in vegetation, as we ascended higher.The Nepenthes rajah is an insect eating plant.
As we walked further, the colour of the steps and stone changed to this.
	Just like the Inca Trail we were passed fairly regularly by porters.The difference here was that some of the ports carried parts to maintain/build some of the buildings at the stop of point above.When I finally reached there, I noticed that one of the buildings had a washing machine. I could only presume that it had been delivered by helicopter as I couldn’t imagine people carrying it up !.
Further along, the steps become less pronounced and lighter in colour.
	I saw this Tortoise that someone had made by arranging stones at the side of the path.
Further along the path it becomes more shaded and for a while, the rocks are gray in colour.
	We stop of for a breather (one of many).It was pretty obvious that Sarah was fitter than me, but Richard (photographed behind us) had almost athletic prowess.Equipment wise, I took the same stuff as the Inca Trail, including my long sleeved Rohan shirt, my Karrimor Sabre daysack and my Karrimor KSB Boots (a companion on just about every trek for the last 10 years). In my ruck, I carried water, a warm jumper, my Haglof goretex jacket and my head torch. Camera on my belt so it was always ready and my whistle and mini torch around my neck on a piece of paracord.
As we reach the staging post at the Laban Rata Hut our guide poses in front of these amazing clouds, attired in clothes I normally wear to eat a Sunday Lunch.
	But the struggle wasn’t over !.Our accommodation, was out at the top of this rocky scramble and although it had ropes, it took some going for me to get to the top.I didn’t realise that the trip came with a complimentary Via Ferrata (I would have quite liked to do it, but with the level of exhaustion I was feeling I had to be realistic and I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it). It was on these rocks that people get roped up and practice the Via Ferrata.
I had been told the accommodation was fairly basic but I found it to be quite superb.We each had a bunk, a sleeping bag. I had read on the internet that you should take a sheet sleeping bag, but they were provided.There were even sinks and a flushing toilet which is fairly uncommon luxury for a mountain hut. In the “common room” there were mountain pictures (some of them by Doug Scott) and as much coffee and snacks as you could eat and drink. We stopped here for breakfast on the way back. Most of it was nice, but to this day, I have no idea what the Sausage was made from.
	I have always been a bit skeptical of Alpine starts.For me, unless ice is going to melt by the sun I just don’t see the point.We set off at 2am and we went quite a long way along the wooden steps. The Malays were quite the most polite walkers and trekkers I had ever met. I had to stop fairly regularly to rest and each time all the people would stop behind me. I had to explain that it was essential they overtook me, as the whole mountain would be at a virtual standstill for most of the morning.
At one point we reached this 70 degree angle and had to climb a rope hand over hand.Our Petzle head torches proved to be essential.Nobody mentioned 2 kilometres of rope.
	The Bank Robbers.Full on Ski masks were popular among the local walkers.My friend Jason had hung around with me up to this point but now the battle would be fought inside, between my comfort and my will. I have never been a big fan of seeing Sunrises/Sunsets, they always seem to disappoint, so I told him to get cracking so that he could see it.
As the Sun rose, I realised why we had set off so early.The angle of ascent was sole destroying (I had walked quite a long way in the dark and I think would have found it much harder to complete it if I had been able to see how steep the walk was).
	It also explained why sometimes the guides stop the walk at Laban Rata if the rain is heavy.The granite is very smooth and at a steep angle.In rainy conditions it would have been like a skating rink. The rope in the picture is changed each year.
It had been hard work up to this point but I never once considered quitting.You can see the view behind, down the mountain. The view of the clouds made all the effort worth it.
	But there was more to do.The actual peak itself (named Low’s peak) is at the top of a small pinnacle.Its small in relative terms to the height of the mountain. In actual fact it was about a thousand feet.
Standing on Low’s Peak.The actual peak was a lot smaller than I expected and there was a queue to stand on the top.Earlier on the trip, I had asked my friend Jason to take the johnsunter.com T Shirt to the top, and be photographed with it if anything happened to me like I broke my leg. As it was this wasn’t necessary. My first 4000m peak, wearing my johnsunter.com T Shirt.
	We head back down.My feet were sore but the sense of euphoria that comes from experiences like this put a spring in my step and spurred me on.We got back to our hut, rested for a bit and had a brew and some breakfast.
As we carried on down the lower sections of the route it started to rain.Rock, that the previous day had been firm under foot suddenly became slippy.I tried my “parkour” type descent which had served me well on Machu Picchu, but after I fell a couple of times I stuck to steady plodding.
	As we reach the end of the walk, our guide takes my camera and I pose for a photo.A voice behind me asks if I would like a Can of Coke.It was Sarah who very kindly paid for the Coke. I can honestly say that I would have paid £100 for that Can, right at that moment !.

	We arrive at the start of the Salt Route, a trek through the Crocker Ranges.The gates weren’t due to open until a certain time in the morning but we found a way to squeeze between them and set off.
We had to walk up this enormous hill to get to the ranger station and register.Permits are required for most National Parks in Borneo.This is a good idea, as the money is used to police the park, keep them clean and pay towards the education of the children who live in the villages.
	Looking out from the Balcony we could see back to the ocean.The view was spectacular but sadly my camera couldn’t fully capture it.The Crocker Ranges National park is twice the size of Singapore.
We wandered up hill through the Jungle.
	And we wandered downhill through the Jungle.
An inevitable part of traversing a Jungle is crossing a rope bridge (they aren’t made of hemp anymore, so cable bridge would perhaps be a better name).Memory’s of Indiana Jones were awakened, and I was reminded that you should only cross one at a time, no matter how secure the bridge looks.
	This picture shows a cross section of the bridge, giving some idea of its length.
This picture shows the height.The water bellow is pretty fast flowing in the middle.If you fell in you could be some way own the river before you the drag of the water stopped pulling you. You would also have been molested by the various parasites that live in the river.
	On other occasions, it was necessary to do more basic river crossings.There are some sophisticated ways to do this, including using a pole, 3 people holding onto each other, and various stuff involving ropes, or using your rucksack as a flotation device.In this instance, we just walked quickly through the water being careful about where we put our feet. Dan starts to cross.
And successfully completes the crossing assisted by a carefully placed walking pole.
	We stop at one of the simple shelters along the route (some of them had been built by the Rotary club). On the left of this picture is the excellent Mr Mickey.Although friendly, formalities were always adhered to. He called me Mr John and I called him Mr Mickey.In the background, is one of Mr Mickey’s porters, and on the right, our own indigenous guide of the West Midlands, JK.
We arrive at our first stop, a rather splendid village and pose for this Photo.
	Our first night. We have accommodation at the village hall. It was built by the Government, and belongs to the people of the village.It was very comfortable and set the right balance (the villagers do get trekkers parading through their village occasionally, but they see the benefit from it in rent and the availability of a meeting hall).Along the left, ar the traditional chimes that Dan and I had seen in the Sabah Museum, early that week. As I set up my bed for the night I regretted not bringing my thermarest. Since the hut was so warm, I didn’t actually need to sleep in my sleeping bag, so used that as an improvised mattress instead. At the back of the room, is the Kitchen.
I hadn’t realised, that all our cooking would be done by the “lads”.It was humbling to see them carry 3 times the weight of my rucksack, and when we finally arrive at our destination, their first thought was to make us a cup of tea and begin preparing our dinner.
	One thing I hadn’t realised, was just how isolated we were.It wasn’t possible to buy water, it had to be pumped from the river.It was then I found out, where the Trek takes its name. Just about everything the villagers needed was provided by the Jungle. The only exception to this was Salt which in times gone by, had to be carried in on the backs of porters.
I had heard a lot about Leeches in the Jungle.They never actually “got” me, but Dan agreed to pose for this picture so that you can see what one looks like.
	The following day we hit the trail again.We wander downhill through dense jungle.
We wander uphill through dense jungle (in a 3 stooges pose).
	Down again (this time through fallen bamboo).
And then back to the flat.
	Some of the amazing vegetation along the route.
I didn’t see a lot of birds perched on this tree !.
	A pond next to the path with a sort of weeping willow tree overhanging.It looked very serene and peaceful, but I was told that the water in the pond was so dirty, it would give you dysentery just from contact with your eye’s.
The highest point on the trail, is marked with this sort of triangular “thing”.Never mind, it was more about the celebration than the “monument”.We knew at this point, that the path wouldn’t go any higher.
	As we reach our next destination by late afternoon.We arrive at the ranger station (there were no bears there looking for picnic baskets).
I was delighted to see that the local lads had made this superb hammock using bailing twine.They were busy making another when we arrived.I gave the hammock a tryout, and it was very comfortable, if a little short.
	We all rest, and get cleaned up as best we can.The bridge above Dan, would feature heavily, in the following mornings adventures.
I decide its time to put my hammock into action (after some minor mithering by JK, who correctly told me I would regret it, if I didn’t spend a night in my hammock, in the Jungle).I consult with JK the self styled God of Hammocks for technical assistance.
	JK points out that the key to the success of the project is the sitting of the hammock.We find 2 appropriately distanced trees and then tie up (the hammock, not each other).At this point, its essential to lie in the hammock and take the stretch out of it. Once done you get out and re-tighten it, repeating the process until all the stretch is gone. There will always be a little stretch left, but this adds to the comfort and overall sleeping experience.
Camouflage isn’t normally my colour but the Hammock I bought had been recommended by JK and it was certainly up to the job.It had a very comfortable base, a sewn in mozzy net and a basha to go over the top and keep out the rain.Various modifications were recommended like sticks tied in to stop drips and gafa tape which insects wont walk across. I decided since it was a first outing that I would stick with convention.
	The view from inside my Hammock.I didn’t need a sleeping bag at all, and just slept in my sleeping bag liner.I didn’t realise, just how exhausted I was, and rested/slept in there for nearly 20 hours. I woke with a start at one point but thought nothing of it. I found out in the morning that a water buffalo had attacked the hammocks and JK had been forced to get out of “bed” and chase it away.
Earlier in the afternoon, I caught up with the lads (over black tea) as they played cards.
	In the morning, I wake early and decide to go exploring.JK had mentioned a bridge that was quite “exciting”.You can see on my right, that the support strut is missing.
As I head out across the bridge it lists heavily to one side.I keep a tight hold and pose for this picture (one of my favourite’s throughout all my travels).
	What’s this !.The children from the local village set off for school.Unlike at home in England, where education is perceived to be free, and therefore not valued, these children are on a mission to get to school, and wont allow anything to get in their way.
…Not even me.As I calmly explain to the Children that we will need to pass each other carefully, they are having none of it.They boldly charge across the bridge and I am forced to grab the cable on my right. The cable offered little more than psychological support and for one terrifying moment I thought I was actually going to fall into the water 40 feet bellow.
	I quickly make my way back to the front of the bridge and not a moment too soon.Another legion of Children are about to head across.The “lead” child (a girl of about 13) smiled at me, but looked as though she wondered what the hell I was doing in the Jungle. At that moment I wondered as well !.
Up and out.We quickly pack our stuff away and continue along the route.You can see from this picture, that some of it was very thick mud, which took some real work to traverse through.
	Further along and things dry out a little as we wander across the paddy field of another nearby village.
There was some debate to the correct name of these creatures.I thought they were wild boars. It was pointed out that since they lived on a farm they weren’t any more wild than me.Domestic Boars, Farm Boars, Field Boars, none of them seemed to sound quite right. On the bottom right of the picture, you can see a superb example of primitive technology put to work. With a few chops of the Parang, this piece of bamboo becomes a perfect trough for the Boars (type unknown).
	A section of the trail was flooded due to rain.Mr Mickey, had worked out an exit route for us.We wandered downhill for a while, through a demolished forest, and we pass under this enormous felled log.
The first time I’ve seen a road for 3 days, we head up this track, to get to our extraction point (does that sound too military ?).It was really hard work and Dan and I had to focus really hard, to get to the top.Luckily JK and Richard were there to motivate us. By taking of up the hill as fast as they could, and not even glancing backwards, Dan and I knew we were all in the thick of it together :(.
	We reach our camp, and are once again (thankfully) put up in the local village hall.At that moment, the heavens opened.You can see from this picture why its called the rain forest.
Another game of cards is pursued and some “cans” are procured by a colleague of Mr Mickey.We also got a few cans of coke as well. We had plenty of water, but there was nothing as refreshing as the taste of Coca Cola.
	In the morning, we all pack up to return home.Mr Mickey, Ridley and the others reverted to “street” dress, and they can be seen here in Rip Curl and other designer labels.
For the final morning the lads decide to take it easy and not cook breakfast.Instead they take us to a cafe frequented by locals as a treat (which they very kindly paid for).I didn’t feel much like eating so I just drank some water. It was interesting to see the kind of place that a typical KK resident would take breakfast in.
	Also interesting were some of the more exotic foodstuffs on display.The tank to the left is full of live Eels and the one to the right live frogs.
What a brilliant trip.Id like to thank Dan, Richard and JK for their company and putting up with me during this adventure.I have to say that some adventures, are pretty uncomfortable when your doing them, and that the real joy comes from reliving the experience. This was one of them. I would also like to thank Mr Mickey, Ripley and the others (who’s names I heard but couldn’t pronounce, let alone spell) for making it such a superb trip.

Okay, so the last dozen posts have been about far away places (historical, which I put up to make the website fully up to date).

I normally spend the summer adventuring in the UK, so its back to normal now and if you’re expecting pictures like the one above (Beijing tunnels I visited) then you’ll have to wait a couple of weeks.

Oh, and if you voted for Brexit, and there’s a filing cabinet nearby, do the following:

1. Open the draw.

2. Put your fingers in the way.

3. Slam the draw shut and hurt yourself.

Good, now we’ve settled our differences, we can move on.

First off all, some top flight news about johnsunter.com

We’ve noticed that more and more people are looking at the website on mobiles. Although It’s been designed to be easily accessible from phones and tablets, navigation has, in the past been a bit challenging.

That template, from which all great developers are cloned, Reggie has found/installed a solution.

In the picture above, the little box on the top right, made up of 4 parallel horizontal lines, is the key to everything.

If you press it, the above list of options will appear (familiar to anyone who’s used the website through a web browser).

It’s still got search, so you can type your name to see if your on there, but it also has the twitter feed, recent posts, country “open out” and archive “open out”.

Speaking of development, I’ve been doing some of my own.

There’s no point in having a fab kitchen just to stand in there talking while drinking wine (although that can be pretty good on a summer evening).

No. I got cracking and made Acapulco Chicken, from the first cookery book I ever owned Ainsley Heriots, Meals in Minutes.

I’ve not made it in several years, but it tasted just as good.

On the subject of food, just to prove that I do sometimes eat healthy lunches, here is a chicken salad of my own creation.

The big adventure of the year is just around the corner.

We’ll be doing an organised tour of Burma/Myanmar which has been closed due to its military dictatorship for a number of years.

On the way we’ll be spending 3 days in Luang Prabang, in Laos, as a scouting mission for future trips.

Our hotel have been really helpful.

Exploring the town by bicycle is popular, and they’ve even sent me this map of the town to help with my research and planning for the trip.

The main hub we’ll be flying into of course is Bangkok.

I’ve been there many times before, so we’ve just scheduled a few days there.

One thing I’m really looking forward too, is catching up with my old friend Frank, who moved there 11 years ago and is now happily married to Na.

If you watch the youtube clip above, of Life on Mars, you’ll see a chatty ambulance driver. Thats Frank (he was so good, I watched that episode and didn’t even know it was him).

Spent a Sunday exploring Liverpool to celebrate Nikki’s mum’s birthday.

Liverpool is still quite new to me, so I always find it exciting there with new things to see and do each time I visit.

I’m planning a trip to Antarctica and a few other places in a couple of years, to celebrate a significant birthday.

We’ve decided to do it by cruise ship, and seeing this Cruiser at Liverpool docks brought home just how much I’m looking forward to it.

It wouldn’t be right to “go on safari” out of Chester to Liverpool, without doing similar in Manchester.

Things went a bit south and I only got there quite late, but I got to tour the pubs of Manchester with old friends Nick and Gary.

Something I’d wanted to do while in Manchester was catch up with my Uncle Norman.

A chap I’ve always been fond off, the husband of one of my mums oldest friends, Auntie Margaret.

Uncle Norman had run a Butchers shop on Church street for a number of years and had decided to retire.

I was hoping to get up to see him, wish him the best and hopefully buy some really nice steak.

Above is Uncle Norm opening his shop for the first time.

And here, 32 years later, closing the shop for the last time.

I dont live in Newton Heath anymore, but I think its a real loss to Church street.

At home, I’ve been updating some of my outdoor gear.

I normally carry a very compact first aid kit, which has a dizzying array of things I’ve learned from experience to carry while travelling.

A recent accident where I fell in the Lake district (and destroyed my camera) convinced me that this “1 size fits nobody” solution wasn’t working.

I now use the small kit for overseas trips and weekends away, and the 1 above for walking.

It has “proper” bandages, a Sam splint, trauma scissors and a whole host of serious stuff like that while still keeping old favourites like plasters, blister plasters, Anadin’s and tweezers.

Its much heavier and bulkier but I think that will be worth it if anything goes wrong on the hill.

While travelling I normally use 2 wash bags.

A small single compartment bag, has my razor, deo, toothbrush, toothpast, and shower gell. I usually use that for weekend a way or longer trips where I’m staying in a hotel.

A larger 3 compartment bag, which has all the stuff above (in larger quantity’s) and includes trek towel, insect repellent, clothes wash, suntan lotion, nail clippers and foot powder extra.

Lately I’ve had an idea to create an ultra small/light wash bag for “daysack” trips between youth hostels.

While on holiday in the black forest, I saw this ultra small washbag above by Deiter which I bought and I’ve been kitting out.

It has small supplies of things which I bought at the airport “carry on” section, no razor (I can manage for 2 days) and a 12 inch square towel (about the thickness of a handkerchief).

Not content with that, I took a hacksaw to the toothbrush to reduce its size weight.

I also added a para-cord lanyard so I dont drop it on the floor.

I’ll report back on how well it works.

And just as I was writing this section, another invaluable piece of equipment arrived through my front door.

The Chester Standard. As a newspaper to read, it sets new standards in tedium and makes the Manchester evening news seem like Tattler.

However, after a day out walking, nothing can dry a pair of boots better than this thing!

Pages screwed into tightly compressed “balls” and then packed into each boot expand and draw out any moisture.

The small adds section can then be used as a base, to protect the kitchen floor while they dry.

Speaking of Chester, I’ve got really excited lately about the Chester Northgate development.

Loads of new, modern and trendy places to eat and drink and lots of big/bright indoor and outdoor places to congregate.

Among other things, a world class theatre, an 8 screen cinema and the library will be opened up as a kind of boulevard.

Should be fantastic with the whole thing including a new bus station, market and hotel completed in 4 years.

I really got into recycling about 6 years ago.

I have all the different coloured boxes, but rarely use them.

A block of flights near my house has a recycling station and I take my stuff over and process it every Thursday.

So much so, that I only use 1 black bag (things that cant be recycled) a month instead of 4 or 5 I used previously.

I was concerned to read the other day, that “box contamination” (where someone buts say a bottle in the biodegradable box) causes real problems and has to be completely resorted adding massive cost to the operation.

If you use recycling boxes, just take an extra second to check everything’s in order, it will save time/money and messing about for everyone concerned.

Well just 3 weeks of summer left and as mentioned earlier I’ve been pursuing loads of cool projects in the UK.

Last weekend I spent the bank holiday in Ambleside in the lake district.

With my rejuvenated book, 25 pub walks in the lakes as a theme, I had some great walks planned.

The actual pub walks are a bit short and basic for the stuff I do now, so I’ve used them as inspiration while staying true to the original route.

The Old Dungeon Ghyll which has a completely undeserved reputation as a nice pub was the basis for a walk up through Mickleden.

From here, we stop for lunch at Angle Tarn.

I was amazed at the number of people who’d just walked up, had no idea of the quickest way down and came over to ask us when they saw we had an OS Map.

The next day, a walk from the front door of our hotel, by the Stock Ghyl force waterfall and over tops to the Mortal Man in Troutbeck.

Continuing back into town, we wander through forests and hillsides.

Back in Ambleside, were able to visit the Gaynors outdoors, the Rohan shop, get pints at the Fino wine bar, and other essential activities like this.

Heading home on the 3rd day, we visit the Watermill at Ings.

A cracking circular walk, we finish at the pub, sit by the stream and have lunch before heading home.

Although quite a low level walk, it had spectacular views.

Overall, a fantastic bank holiday weekend in the lakes and 3 new initials in my 25 pub walks book.

In 2001, I’d moved to Chester and started working at a firm of accountants called Morris & Co.

While chatting to a new colleague, I commented that although I had a website, I’d love to own www.johnsunter.com.

What I didn’t realise at the time that he ran a web hosting business as a sideline and set it up for me as a gift.

I originally used the website to communicate with friends and mostly my mum back in Manchester.

If we went to the park or a new nice restaurant in Chester, I’d post pictures on there and write about it.

It was long before facebook, and allowed people to follow our “story” and see what we were doing.

A change in circumstances led to me starting over. Determined to turn the situation around I would start a new life in search of adventure.

But where to start, people like Chris Bonington and Ray Mears are gifted experts and I’m just an ordinary person.

And that’s when I got the idea…

johnsunter.com – the adventures of an ordinary person.

It would provide a sort of online diary of my successes and failures. It would also hopefully inspire other people.

After all, I’m just an ordinary person and if I can get to the Borneo jungle or stand on the Great Wall of China then anyone can do it can’t they ?.

I’d also write about my goals, motivations and how I did it, to save other people time if they wanted to do the same.

One problem I’ve always had though, was in putting all the effort into the actual adventures, it compromised the amount of time I had to update the website (logically, as it should be).

Sometimes I would be embarking on a trip somewhere and the website would be 3 trips behind.

This reached a hiatus last year, when I realised a trip to Lisbon in 2011 hadn’t been documented and it was reaching the end of 2015!.

I made a commitment that all the adventure pages would be updated by the end of 2016 !.

Problem is, it involved converting 90 pages over to the new system (which would take more than 135 hours).

Plus, I was 34 pages behind.

To choose the photos from a trip, set up the web page, storyboard it, check technical details then write up the text takes 6-11 hours per page.

Worse, since many of the trips were a while ago, I’d forgotten a lot of the details and would have to catch up on my notes adding even more time to the project.

An imposing task (if I also wanted to lead some sort of normal life, having a girlfriend and having just started a new job !).

But like my mum used to say, difficult and impossible aren’t the same thing.

I’ve woken an hour early every day, worked 2 evenings a week, 4 lunch hours a week and as much free time at weekend as I could without impacting on my social life.

And so, at 8pm last night, all the travel pages were finally updated. I consider it a great achievement and I’m delighted.

So now that I’ve done that, how can you find the pages ?

If you look on the right hand side of the page, starting from the top and working down.

Twitter feed: This shows my most recent activities and photo’s that are taken in situ (you might be looking a hillside scene, 1 minute after it happened). You can scroll down the most recent ones.

Most recent:  The last 5 blog posts that I’ve done with the first picture and the date they were updated.

Country groups: listed according to geographical region, if you click on say Africa, it will open up with all the places in Africa that I’ve written about.

Finally, if you think its any good, feel free to post something on recent comments.