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The Van

2006-06-27T14:12:00.000+01:00

Despite what you may be thinking I'm not still stuck in Viet Nam somewhere around Hoi An - I'm now actually living the high life as certifiable Trailer Trash! That's right Myra and I are living it large in the back of a Mercedes Sprinter van; we'd always hoped that the dream would come true one day but never really imagined that it would!

We now spend our evenings driving around Australian suburbia scoping out potential caravan 'sites' while trying not to attract too much attention. Unfortunately our really loud 'BEEP BEEP! Danger Will Robinson' vehicle reversing warning noise is a bit of a give away!

In fact we're now real bottom of the barrel hobos - huddled in the back of our van, parked outside some random Aussie's house 'borrowing' some of their Wi-Fi to update our blogs and send some mails.

So, unbelievably after nearly six months on the road we're down to our final two weeks or thereabouts before touching down in New Zealand. As some of you may have noticed my blog has been a little bit patchy over the last couple of weeks (ahem!) so hopefully I'll be able to add a few extra entries to it over the coming weeks to include some of the amazing adventures you didn't hear about in the original run - some sort of Director's Special Overlong Edition or something.

There'll be plenty of tall tales to follow of the adventures we have in our travelling squat - will I decide to get a mullet and settle down in the country music capital of Australia, Tamworth? - will Myra decide to dress up in a Bovine one-piece jumpsuit and drive us to Moobal? Stay tuned to find out more!

Little Trouble In Big China

2006-05-31T09:27:00.000+01:00

It turns out that the Red Pandas win hands down in the wrestling match due to the B&W ones being too lazy to show up for the competition! In fact they're so darn lazy that they spend over 23 and a half hours a day eating and sleeping, only managing half an hour for 'play'.

The sad thing is though that they've pretty much evolved into an evolutionary cul-de-sac; needing to consume such massive amounts of low energy food (bamboo) that they can not spare the energy to move let alone mate. Leaving the sanctuary that afternoon you couldn't help but feel that the world will be lucky to still have the B&W beasties roaming about in one or two hundred years.

With our panda check box filled in we moved along to Xi'an and Jim Beam's hostel. Unfortunately complementary bottles of his namesake weren't available on demand - baah! But he did manage to organise a handy trip to see all the sites around the locale including The Warriors.

The Warriors, as it turned out was not the tribute to the late Seventies New York gangland movie I had expected, but rather an amazing collection of Terracotta ones!

The site is divided into three major finds; the smallest of which holds about 40 clay figures and the largest containing several thousand. On entering Site 1, the largest, you are confronted with row upon row of uniquely carved terracotta people, interspersed with horses and chariots.

Unfortunately many of the delicate models were damaged ages ago when the wooden roof that originally encased the structure collapsed. In fact only the first seven or eight rows or warriors are untouched by the passage of time. Although it has to be said that the partially eroded ones are almost funkier as they have a 'Jason and the Argonauts' Ray Harryhousen feel to them!

Our next stop was a wee town called Han Shan which is home to a fantastic mountain top temple which is reached by a twisting, turning trail leading up through a valley to the final run of dangerously steep steps! And I do mean steep! Maybe an incline of 80 degrees or so! Luckily there's a metal chain that runs the length of the summit staircase and there's a steady stream of people coming behind you to break your fall!

On the way to the top we passed many elderly men hauling massive loads of refreshments to the vendors at the peak, maybe eight or nine 24 packs of 500 ml bottles arranged over their shoulders in a barbell fashion with a piece of wood. It made me feel a little wussy complaining about my wee backpack! The route to the top is really incredible as you pass umpteen houses carved into the rockface (how deep, I'm not sure) and ancient steps etched into the cliffside. A job for Chuck Norris if ever there was one!

Another sixteen hour train journey and we arrived in Ping Yao - in complete darkness! This ancient walled city has evidently decided to keep it very old school and has opted against street lights. 12:30 at night and we were finding our way to a hostel for the night by touch alone.

The wee city is great though, the perimeter of the enclosed section is only about six kilometres and we rambled around the base of the wall in a hour or two. Unfortunately the wall is being renovated at the moment and you can't walk around it, but you can still pop up on top and see some of the nasty defensive weapons they used to keep Vikings and other raiders at bay.

It's the first city that really feels 'Chinese' or at least the image of China that you're sold at home. Very narrow streets, with vendors selling all kinds of weird and wonderful things along them. There are also tens of old houses, temples and museums to visit. If you're after the China you see in school books and old television programmes then this is the place for you!

So after the quiet, quintessentially Chinese city of Ping Yao it was on to the sprawling Megapolis of Beijing. The rate of development in the heart of China is truly staggering with tales of entire areas of the city being completely demolished and rebuilt year on year.

The first thing that you notice, as was the case with all of the other 'small' (4 million+) cities we'd visited, is how amazingly 'western' it is. Everything that you would expect to find in any European or American city is there: McDonalds, Pizza Hut, KFC ... there's even a Starbucks in the Forbidden City!

It's the one thing that has been a little surprising, although maybe it was just silly to think that a massive power like China would somehow resist the lure of free market capitalism - but they certainly have embraced it! The most shocking thing being Mao's mausoleum: once you pass through the chamber containing his body you emerge into one of the tackiest shops I've ever seen. And although I reckoned that Mao would be turning in his grave if he could see this - he clearly wasn't.

M & G - eocache!

2006-05-24T16:47:00.000+01:00

Just a wee entry to let you know that the little map has finally been updated! Woohoo! The roaming Myra and Graham geocache is trackable once again!

China

2006-05-14T11:16:00.000+01:00

The following blog entry has been deemed too capitalist in its views and opinions and has been heavily edited from its original 12,000 word content to its current form by the People's Republic of China's Extreme Blog Sanctions Unit. The remaining content is presented in both Chinese and English at the same time in the language of the People: Chinglish.

"China is good of best in planet welcomes you much in thank."

Please be remembering that:

"No blog reading while working.
No working while blog reading.
Notice the safety."

P.R.C.E.B.S.U.

Disco Inferno

2006-05-14T11:12:00.000+01:00

Where to stay amongst the glitse, the glamour and the marble tiled underground people ways of Hong Kong? Given that the Y.M.C.A. is sixty bucks a night we needed something a little lower market, something like, oh I don't know, the Ballymun Flats perhaps? Enter Chungking and Mirador Mansions (either our first experience of Chinglish or used in the loosest possible sense)! Offering the finest in air conduit views from a blackened window on the twelfth floor we knew we'd found home!

Although at only twenty U.S. dollars a night (by far the most expensive and smallest accommodation so far) we couldn't complain too much and settled in to spend a couple of days relaxing and wandering while organising the Chinese leg of our journey.

The mansions are not actually on Hong Kong island itself, but lie on the tip of the peninsula touching it, in a place called Kowloon. Despite hearing tales of the marvels and splendours of the island, I think that Kowloon is actually a little more fancy smancy. The only way to describe it is as one massive harbour-wide Brown Thomas store, complete with subterranean interconnecting passage-ways.

If you find yourself in Hong Kong with nothing to do around 7:59 any night of the week mosey on over the harbour front on the Kowloon side to see the spectacular light show. Before arriving there we had pictured a sort of mini-fireworks display from the tops of the island buildings; we were wrong. Instead the buildings themselves are lined with L.E.D.s, lights, lasers and all manner of flashing and strobing gizmos!

At times it's hard to appreciate the scale of the choreographed light presentation - it's not a Sony! The only thing I could see missing was an option to play a game of Tetris on a building guarded by a massive King (or Donkey) Kong!

We also managed to nab three geocaches hidden amongst the hills and parks (my Chiang Mai Fakenstock sandals only just up to the job!). A big thanks to Mairead for introducing us to this funky game! As a bonus we discovered two special items (one with a giant iguana attached) which are tracked on www.geocaching.com so we could find out how they arrived in China! Hopefully we'll be able to drop them off somewhere interesting.

A glass of milk and before I knew it we were passing through emigration at a Ferry Terminal to continue on to the airport to catch a flight to Chengdu to watch some B&W versus Red Panda wrestling action ...

The Cave

2006-05-14T11:08:00.000+01:00

Stumbling through the labyrinth of narrow, narrow streets, each one more similar than the last, in the wee hours of the morning, we randomly chose the Fortuan Hotel as home for the next few days. Seemingly staffed by people from the Basil Fawlty school of hoteliery we spent most of our time there trying to fend off one iteration of Manuel after the next!

Hanoi itself is essentially in a permanent state of rapid gridlock with motorbikes, cars, bicycles and people weaving in and out of each other. Closing your eyes and using the Force is really the only way to navigate from one footpath to the next. And even then you've got to move back onto the road as the footpaths are actually used as convenient motorbike parking spaces!

The big thing that we wanted to see around Hanoi was Ha Long Bay, which is where they might have shot 'The Man With The Golden Gun' - but didn't (it was filmed somewhere in Southern Thailand I think!). Unfortunately this involved boats and I've got a bit of a Mr. T-esque thing with boats instead of planes (he's becoming a little bit of a mascot for this trip!) so the fear was starting to grow little by little as the harbour loomed into view.

One delicious glass of milk later found us adrift amongst the vast expanse of wee islands in the bay. Seemingly there are over two thousand islands, nine hundred of them named, strewn across the seascape. Our guide for the trip pointed out some of the more funky ones; one shaped like a duck, one like warring giants and another like a rock. A relaxing way to while away a few hours and luckily for me, remarkably calm!

The highlight of our two days spent as pirates aboard the junk (not named for any resemblance to the classic Chinese boats ;) was when we pulled ashore on a large island with two HUGE caves! These caves were so good that I'm going to break my traditional blog style of no pictures, other than Beakerludes, and show y'all the amazing lighting that they had set up!

Tomorrow we set sail for Hong Kong (by train!) - Yeargh me hearties!

Good Morning, Viet Nam!

2006-05-14T10:52:00.000+01:00

Too afraid to mention anything about fools or pitying them and nervously eyeing around for any signs or apparitions of the Big T himself Myra and I waited for the 6:40 Sawngthaew to the border to roar into life. Before long we were rumbling along the dusty, twisting roads to Na Meo with a motley bunch of other foreigners making a break for it.

Three short hours on and I was trying to play it cool with the border guards hoping that they didn't notice the bead of sweat trickling down my forehead and that the saches of Laos coffee buried deep down in my bag were actually coffee!

After a wee bit of wandering we hoped on the bus to Hanoi - ten minutes later we were sitting on the side of a hill watching the bus driver trying to work some magic on the smoking engine. After two hours of chilling and watching the locals join in with the engine by chopping bamboo into makeshift pipes we were underway.

Eight hours, a dead dog, pig and hen saw us in Thanh Hoa - the midway point. Chucked out into the rain and with no sign of the connecting bus they had tried to swindle us for we took it in turns to try flag down buses.

A few moments after agreeing a price for the journey and boarding the bus that continued to Hanoi the conductor and his cronies (the rest of the bus) began hassling us for more money. We all managed to resist coughing up any dough for over hour, arguing the whole time to the amusement of the locals. Eventually with the bus stopped in the middle of nowhere and the other passengers making moves to throw our bags from the bus we bargained an 'agreeable' figure.

Just after midnight the bus pulled into Hanoi bus station. Even more haggling and stand-offs ensued with the local taxi mafia until we managed to cut a half decent price. We'd been warned that the Vietnamese typically charge foreigners 400% or more than the state issued (local) fares. With the police turning a blind eye to it all there's not a whole lot that you can do but try stand your ground and haggle like your life depended on it: thank goodness for Myra - the Hagglenator!

Beakerlude

2006-04-17T14:20:00.000+01:00

... again for something completely different - a Beakerlude!

'Golden Daze'

'Veakerovski Lenin'

'Beaker Lee'

'Beakerzilla'

'Stargate?'

... same Beaker-time, same Beaker-channel!

"I pity the fool ..."

2006-04-09T11:59:00.000+01:00

The final night in Phonsavanh proved to be one of the most exciting things to happen while we were there! Not what you might be thinking, but rather, an evening of non-stop thunder and lightning! The flashes and booms continued for hours on end with only two or three seconds between house racking rumbles and forks of blinding white light! Myra acted tough while I whimpered in the corner.

The following morning as we sat eating breakfast, sheltering from the persistent drizzle, I noticed a large săwngthăew pass by, packed to Sri Lankan legal limits and destined for Xam Neua. "Ah, the early bus", I thought to myself and then to Myra (in a Mr. T accent), "I pity the fool who takes a săwngthăew to Xam Neua!". You see, we were on our way to catch the 8:00 standard bus to Xam Neua.

Half an hour later, standing in the drizzle at the local bus depot, the ghostly image of Mr. T apparates before me laughing "Ha! I pity the fool who pities the fool who takes a săwngthăew to Xam Neua!" ... Bah!

The good news though is that the journey turned out to be a bit of a picnic and plenty of good olde fashioned oirish craic as we ended up sharing the trip with two other Irish backpackers; Finbarr and Kathryn.

Eight and quarter hours squished into the back of a 8 person vehicle with 15 others, with the last hour spent sitting on a travel pillow (ah, the relief!), and we arrived into dusty Xam Neua. Looking in the mirror a little while afterwards and I discovered that I'd become a panda thanks to the grimy roads - my best tan of the trip so far!

We'd only just managed to change back into being polar bears before we'd bumped into Tony, the local N.G.O. worker for the region, who, as it turned out, only lives a couple of miles down the road from Myra in the Kingdom. Over a few brewskis he filled us in on just about everything you could wish to know about Laos and Viet-Nam! We even found out that the guy who wrote the Laos section of the Lonely Planet has never even been to this region, despite writing a very indepth review of all there was to do - we weren't surprised!

The main tourist oriented trip in and around Xam Neua is the caves at Viang Xai which were used by the Lao resistance forces during the war. The caves themselves are huge and at any given point during the bombardment up to 23,000 people were living in them!

Within the caves are offices, hospitals, housing, shelters and any other conceivable thing that you might need to mount a resistive movement. Well worth the short 40 minute săwngthăew trip advertised in the Lonely Planet - which somehow actually took an hour and forty five minutes to do!

Jars of Friendsombies

2006-04-09T11:46:00.000+01:00

Surrounded by hordes of circling Friendsombies we fled for the local bus stop on the far side of the airstrip. In the distance the low rumbling engine of the Louang Probang bus could be heard. Slowly it wound around the village hillsides. Just moments from certain zombification and it braked frantically, the driver pulling us aboard - we had escaped the zombifing curse of Vang Viang!

But not the machine gun wielding bus conductors; we weren't long coughing up the dough for the trip! The mission for Louang Probang, and we chose to accept it, was to visit some of the local temples and plan a route through China and the various sites we wanted to see; apparently they have a rather large wall there or something that's worth visiting.

Temples, wats (including one with a disco ball elephant's head!) and another visit to the yummy Joma cafe and we'd ticked all the boxes on our todo list - it was time to venture into 'The Plain of Jars' (PoJs)!

The PoJs is located around 8 hours weaving and winding from Louang Probang in a wee spot called Phonsavanh. The jars themselves lie in the heart of this region, which was the most heavily bombed area in Laos. As a little bit of scary trivia: More bombs were dropped on Laos by the United States than over Germany in the whole of the second world war; averaging one plane-load of bombs every eight minutes for nine years.

Unfortunately the legacy of this blanket bombing lives on as approximately 30% of the bombs did not explode on impact, effectively carpeting the landscape in a layer of mines. You see, most of the ordinance dropped were cluster bombs which open while descending and scatter tens of mini-bombs which arm themselves after they've dropped a certain distance. The trouble is though that the Americans often flew low due to heavy cloud coverage but proceeded to drop their payload regardless of the fact that the bombs would not have sufficient time to arm prior to impact, meaning they arm after crashing to earth and lie dormant until disturbed.

To further add to the tragedy, the Vietnamese are offering (a paltry sum of) money for the retrieval of scrap metal thus encouraging the locals to scour the land for UneXploded Ordinance (UXO). The week before we arrived four children were killed while searching for metal fragments, all too common an occurrence according to our guide.

That the jars themselves remain mostly intact is no small miracle. There are hundreds of them scattered around several sites in the region, although only three of the sites have been sufficiently cleared of ordinance to be opened to the public. Even these three are only sub-surface cleared along narrow paths lined with M.A.G. (the British Mines Advisory Group) markers.

It's quite an unusual experience to be threading a path through a potential mine field and it's hard to forget that straying too far from the M.A.G. white and red brick road could lead to a grisly end.

The jars are really worth seeing though, with some of them towering several feet over our heads! Careful examination of the jars and their sub-surface suggests that they were used as funerary urns, though the people that created them and their history have long since been lost to the passage of time.

Next stop: Xam Neua and the heart of the Laos resistance movement!

The River Mild

2006-04-09T11:30:00.000+01:00

After several nervous hours of continuous subtle glances over my shoulder to the back of the bus, where our machine gun wielding conductor sat, followed by renewed checking of the validity of my ticket, it was with a sigh of relief that the dusty disused airstrip that heralded Vang Viang rolled into view. Back up on top of the bus to retrieve our bags from amongst the chickens and pigs strapped to the roof and off into the heart of the village to find some accommodation.

Dust devils and possibly a couple of Tazs too abound throughout the village as they've recently decided to pave the country! In fact, Vientiane, the capital, has only had fully paved roads in the central district for the last 5 years. It makes for some interesting late night strolls through the village though; avoiding open sewers, cauldron holes, trenches and the occasional specially prepared tourist hole (usually with a complimentary tourist at the bottom!).

The village itself may well be the set of an Asian version of 'Shaun of the Dead'; tourists lying semi-conscious in a zombified state in front of massive televisions watching repeat episodes of Friends non-stop. All that can be heard above the rumble of the television is a 'waaaww...' - there's definitely a Sumatran Rat Monkey to be found somewhere in the Village.

Deciding that the village wasn't safe for prolonged exposure, one nibble by the zombies and you're nobbled (doomed to Friends-itise for the rest of your days), we packed our daybags (more of a plastic sac really!) and headed for the hills.

Two days of trekking, caving and rafting ensued. Along the way we were thwarted by some rather huge oxen (Dr. Evilox and mini-Evilox) and were forced to do a wee funky traverse around a rock face to continue to the summit.

The region around Vang Viang is full of really special rock formations; spinning around you'd think that a foul mooded Zeus had hurtled hundreds of limestone chunks at the land. And where you have limestone you usually have caves!

Climbing aboard an inflatable tractor tyre we bobbed our way into the opening of a kilometre deep cave tunnel. Splashing along using our flip-flops as paddles we explored the underground maze for an hour; occasionally stopping for a quick game of soak the other cavers!

We also visited three or four other caves on our journey; some having separate entrances and exits, others having 30+ metre high stalagmites and stalagtites! Vang Viang is a potholers paradise and I'm sure that in years to come the whole area will be a mecca for cavers and climbers the world over.

The final day of the expedition saw Myra become Meryl Streep and me a kind hearted Kevin Bacon as we hit the River Wild! When I say wild, I of course mean relatively tame, but still lots of fun none the less! After working out how to stop ourselves continuously paddling in circles we faced all the dangers the river had to offer: rapids, tubers, swimming tourists, sky-diving swing jumpers and offers of Beer Chang!

A few swishing, swoshing hours in the kayak later and we were pulling into the shore beside the local bus driver, who was busy hosing down and scrubbing the bus in the very same river!

A Smashing Pumpkin

2006-03-29T10:53:00.000+01:00

So it was a toss between a slow two day boat to Laos, a fast speed boat with a reported 10% mortality rate or fly in with Laos Airlines (no published safety records and most western embassies advising against flying with them). Tough choice, no doubt about it!

In the end Laos airlines won the game of Russian Roulette and before long we touched down in Vientiane. Almost immediately we knew that we'd left the western world of Thailand behind and were in for a real treat of traditional backpacking.

Although Vientiane is the capital city of Laos you'd never know it for the large amounts of tumbleweed drifting across the quiet country lanes. The only grandiose avenue in the entire town is a copy of the Champs d'Elysees finishing in a mound of concrete destined to be an airport runway but, due to a mistake on the shipping address invoice no doubt, ended up being a rather funky Arc du Triumph.

We rented some bicycles for a day and visited most of the temples to be found in and around the centre. Most of them came complete with snoozing attendants. One even had a resident team of football crazed monk novices who continuously hammered a football, squash style, off the temple; using some spirit houses for goal posts.

The following day we set off to see the 'Bull Whipping French Colonials', the 'Japanese Fascists' and the 'Imperialist Americans and their Puppets' in the Vientiane Revolutionary Museum. The museum has two floors; the first takes you from the dawn of man and his eternal struggle with the cave woman stealing tyranosauruses and what not to the end of that period. From there the tours jumps to the second floor and immediately to the late 19th century (nothing much seemed to have happened in the meantime!).

Here the museum goes into quite a lot of detail on how the Lao people suffered immensely under the various foreign powers that arrived to try (ab)use the country. You come away from the exhibition a little overloaded with information, but with a good feeling for the injustice and plight of the people.

After some fairly sobering information in the museum we decided that it was time for some more fun and funky things, so without further ado we commandeered a Tuk-Tuk and set off for the 'Buddha Park'!

The park was created in the late 1950s by a self-styled holy man who claimed to be a disciple of a cave-dwelling Hindu hermit in Viet-Nam! And after visiting the garden one can only imagine that '60s drug induced experimentalism arrived early in Laos!

The park is home to a staggering number of weird and wonderful concrete creations - my favourite being a huge pumpkin shaped representation of hell, earth and heaven. The pumpkin plastered monstrosity houses three internal floors that are discovered by entering through the mouth of an ogre! After making your way past skeletons, demons, serpents and all kinds of grisly ways to meet an unfortunate end you pop out on top of the pumpkin through another demon's mouth!

Standing on top of the 20 metre high pumpkin gives a great vantage point to take in the pure weirdness of the rest of the park. Unfortunately for our enlightened friend he was forced to flee to northern Thailand after the revolution and never managed to complete the complex.

Within The Woods

2006-03-29T10:37:00.000+01:00

The 4x4 shuddered to a stop, a small trail of white smoke issuing from the engine. We shouldered our backpacks, tightened our shoelaces, checked our bush-knives then hastily dumped it all in the jeep, threw on our flip-flops and rambled the 100 odd yards over to our first stop - the long neck and big ear tribe!

Unfortunately, although it was really interesting to see the women, the 'village' felt all to much like a human-zoo of some kind. The village simply consisted of a single line of stalls where the women wove their shoals and wraps. There was definitely a sense that the village existed solely for the tourist market and that, perhaps, without it the tradition of wearing all the jewelry would simply fade away.

Feeling a little weary from our 100 yard trail walk we all sat down for a good feed which turned out to be a rather yummy mix of fried vegetable rice and some fresh pineapples! After which the real trek began ... doo, doo, doooooo ...

We spent the rest of the day slashing and burning a path through the thick rain forests of upper Thailand. Chainsaws in hand, well bamboo sticks anyway, we quickly carved a route through forest, tea-plantations and streams to the first of our village stop-overs : The Blue Lahu.

Upon approaching the village we were passed by two local youths on a 50cc motorbike wearing Adidas silkas shell jackets and brandishing some mobile phones - I was beginning to think that the remote, simple village life described in the Lonely Planet may have been a little romantic!

A few moments later and we were shown to our accommodation for the evening - a rather funky wee stilt-supported hut overlooking the village piggery. Although the villagers led a comparatively simple life to that which we had left behind in Chiang Mai, they by no means lead the Amazonial life the guide books would lead you to believe.

Coke Cola, Oreos and all manner of goodies were freely available from the local shop and in the end I guess the hill tribes are really more a collection of people who have chosen to continue to live a rural way of life; away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

We awoke to the quaint sound of pigs gently squealing their God darn ... Anyway! Another solid day in the saddle ensued, by which, of course, I mean walking. Up, up and some more up before a wee bit of down. But that was really just nature's excuse to give us even more up!

Luckily though our mysterious guide, known only as M, was a bit of a dab hand at the old cooking and had been busy while we'd been snoozing whipping up some yummy lunch and wrapping it all up in some palm leaves! A short rest to munch our way through this feast and we were back on track for our second stop: The Black Lahu.

Now, it turns out that, as was the case with the Blue Lahu, the Black Lahu aren't actually painted black from head to toe. They do, however, make some rather funky bamboo huts for their visitors to stay in, complete with a kitchen in the corner and a bundle of cooks to boot!

After a mighty feast the evening before and some well deserved snoozing we began our third and final day - The Neph Day! Our agenda for the day was simply to race our fellow trekkers around on elephants and rafts! By nitro boosting our neph with bananas we were able to tear away into the lead and hit the rafting section ahead of the rest.

Some careful splashing of the opposition on the way down the rapids allowed us to hold on to the lead and we hit the lazy bamboo raft with plenty of time to spare. A wee bit of lunch and it was time to motor back to Chiang Mai ...

Monkey Planet

2006-03-10T10:46:00.000Z

Back on the Khao San road and upon discovering a trail of trinkets, a copy of the classic album "Looking For Freedom" and a hastily sellotaped credit card stashed beneath our bed I knew it was either bigger blinkers or time to head north!

North it was and in no time at all we found ourselves in Ayuthaya, an ancient capital city of Thailand. The architects here, who had obviously studied at the Tower of Piza University for the construction of Gravity Defying Structures, have managed to create an amazing array of wobbly and wavy chedis, temples and Buddhas! I didn't find a Buddha in Quiksilver shorts with a surf-board tucked in under his arm, but I'm sure he's there somewhere! You could easily spend a few days exploring the city by foot, bicycle or (most likely) in a Tuk-Tuk with your bicycle mangled somewhere half way beneath the suspension.

After a relaxing day or two we decided to hop on a bus and continue northwards. A wee while later as our bus slowly came to a rest an eerie howl rang out in the bus "You maniacs! You blew it up! Ah, damn you! God ... damn you all to hell!" - we'd arrived in Lopburi : Planet of the Apes to you and me!

Although I could see neither Charlton Heston nor a toppled Statue of Liberty on the horizon there was no doubt that the monkeys were in charge here. With at least 300 of the little swinging pick-pockets about and no feelings of Mowgli-ism we opted for maximum security accommodation complete with bars on the windows!

We awoke in the morning to find thirty odd monkeys staring at us from outside our window. A thorough check of our belongings revealed that they hadn't managed to make away with our wallets or any other goodies! Although the 'Boss' monkey had an evil grin ... hmmm ...

After visiting the various wats and chedis (including a rather funky three spired one) we reckoned that aside from monkey-poo and monkey kung-foo dodging there wasn't too much happening in Lopburi; so before long we'd gathered our things and were rattling away on another rickety train hollering "Take your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty ape!" at every monkey we noticed eyeing us up!

Sukhotai was the next place on our list, another of Thailand's ancient capital cities. Sukhotai is very much like a miniature version of Ayuthaya with all of the ruins closely packed together. We rented some bicycles for the day and played chicken with the local Tuk-Tuk drivers as we moseyed to and fro between chedis, wats and Buddha statues.

But our feet were getting itchy and we knew the only scratching that would help was to be found in the misty jungles around Chiang Mai ...

The Bridge Over The River Kwae

2006-03-07T11:35:00.000Z

Feeling a little tired from the flight and more than a little disoriented by the well below legal-limit of passengers chattering away inside the bus we found ourselves rumbling across Bangkok's skyline. We were edging our way slowly towards the Khao San road weaving in out amongst the towering buildings lining the 'Autobahn of the Sky'.

Within a few moments of landing on the Khao San road I knew it was time to hide all of our cash and slice up the credit cards for it looked like the next episode in our Asian Adventure would be called : "Myra (and Graham) in Trinket Trouble"! It took only a minute or two and they had us completely surrounded - "Tuk-Tuk?", "Bracelet?", "David Hasselhoff CD?" - before I knew it a Net and a Trident had been hurled in and a strange chant had begun ...

Having made good our escape the previous night we decided to visit the "Bridge Over The River Kwae", a short bus journey away. As the bus station was a wee bit too far away to walk to with all our gear we flagged down what we thought to be a Tuk-Tuk but which in actual fact turned out to be a Speeder-Bike! Carving an unbelievably insane path through the traffic I can only assume that the Force was strong with this one (stronger than the state of our stomachs by the end of it anyway!).

Another quiet bus journey (boy I'm missing those Sri Lankan sardine tins!) and we were rambling along a rickety pathway across the river to our stilt-supported cabin complete with a hammock swaying lazily in the evening breeze. A little way upstream we could see the bridge itself spanning the river; umpteen metal and concrete legs sprouting from the river bed to form enormous arches with a central connecting walkway.

Waterfalls, railways, trains and minibuses were the order of the next few days. Along with Deuce Bigalow, our minibus gigolo, we bumped and grinded along the dusty tracks from one venue to another.

Erewan waterfalls, an amazing seven tiered waterfall, was our morning ramble. Each tier is separated by a couple of hundred metres (mostly horizontal!) with most of the falls offering an opportunity for swimming, diving, fish nibbling and dragonfly swatting!

Our bus then took us from heaven to hell, or more precisely, to the Hellfire Pass. The Hellfire Pass is a 75 metre section of the Thailand-Myanmar (Burma) railway line that was carved from the bed rock to a depth of 25 metres by prisoners of war under the 'supervision' of the Japanese army. Using only the most basic of hand tools the men worked around the clock to complete the railway (estimated to take five years by a previous British survey) in just sixteen months.

A museum has been erected by the entrance to the Pass which exhibits a wide collection of period artifacts and personal accounts of the extreme cruelty suffered by the P.O.W.s under the Japanese army. Unfortunately Mr. Bigalow needed an audience and our driver needed to bump and grind the mystery van a little more and so we were on our way all too soon.

Our time in Kanchanaburi concluded with a little tightrope walking across the rail tracks on the bridge where we met Sir Beaker Guinness re-enacting a long lost deleted Nephelump scene!

Beakerlude

2006-02-27T13:20:00.001Z

... and now for something completely different - a Beakerlude!

'The Kandy Konnection'

'Sir Alec Guinness'

'Lost'

'The Real Slim Chedi'

'Mr. Miyagi'

... same Beaker-time, same Beaker-channel!

Old Age Regular Non-Ninja Turtles

2006-02-22T14:44:00.000Z

A three hour bumpy bus ride in cargo class with our luggage and what must have been most of the local village part-way through a Guinness Book of Records 'People In A Bus' challenge and we had arrived in Tangalle.

Tangalle is a small town situated by the sea that suffered a great deal of damage when the tsunami struck. There are signs hanging, draped and slung over many of the local fixtures thanking the international community for their assistance with the redevelopment of the area.

With only a couple of days to go until we moved on to Thailand the main objective here was to build sand castles and watch the local fishermen trawl for dinner ... and Ninja Turtles!

Just a short Tuk-Tuk ride away is a small and reasonably isolated beach where giant turtles come to lay their eggs. As luck would have it, we had arrived in Tangalle with a full moon - the perfect time to spy on Leonardo and his buddies.

Racing through our dinners to finish up on time to take part in the local Tuk-Tuk demolition derby across town, it was with a sense of dread that I noticed a familiar bubbling in my tummy. Was that bloody Devilled Chicken back for even more revenge?! "I'll be a vegetarian I promise!" - but it was no good, another night of toil and trouble ...

But the good news is that Myra managed to dodge kittens, dogs and even a cow in the Tuk-Tuk derby to get you all some photos of the tortles - so click on the link!

Jack Vs The Space Mutants

2006-02-22T14:19:00.000Z

The year is 1969 and NASA launches the last of America's deep space hippy communes. In a freak mishap Kataragama 3 and its pilot Captain Jack are blown out of their trajectory into an orbit which freezes his life support systems and returns to Earth 37 years later.

Well, not quite, but after hopping out of a public sardine tin we found ourselves at Jack's Place in Kataragama; a funky little donation based 'hostel' complete with a hippy village out back. The whole place is littered with groovy little multi-coloured glass bottles hanging from trees, walls, gutters - pretty much everything!

The village is based around 'mud and wattle' huts, with each religion being allocated its own little space. The Hindu one is the funkiest at moment and even has a 'meditation' bunker carved out beneath the main chilling room. Candle holders are cut into the walls and the candles within throw long flickering shadows dancing from wall to wall.

After a tour of the village Dave and the rest of the collective stayed up half the night cooking Sri Lankan 'hoppers', basically chubby pancakes, for us all to munch down. Very tasty and after a wee bit of nattering we all hit the Sauna for a couple of hours.

Five a.m. and it was out of the sauna and into the flying van as we hurtled down the road in a hippy period Land Rover. Yala National Park was our destination and with our elephant guns cocked and ready we were looking forward to some big game hunting.

Unfortunately the park wardens weren't so inclined and so we settled for a funky little tour around with the chance to see elephants, leopards, wild boars, crocodiles and even the rare and menacing Jungle Chicken!

We all had a good morning bouncing around in the back of the jeep as the driver ignored all requests to stop and look at the various animals and concentrated on reliving his Rally Dakar days. The only time the handbrake was applied was to point out the ferocious Jungle Chicken - a indigenous bird that in all respects is identical to a regular chicken save for the 'Jungle' moniker (and maybe some slight colour differences)!

A communal lunch, some lazing and the bags were packed and with the theme tune to the 'Littlest Hobo' drifting softly through my brain we set off down the road for Tangalle.

Fear and Leeching in Las Ella

2006-02-19T12:41:00.000Z

With enough tea leaves to open our own factory stuffed into our backpacks we boarded the train for Ella. A surprisingly empty train allowed for plenty of door dangling shenanigans as we wound our way slowly uphill through tea plantations and waterfall filled jungle landscapes.

A few moments later and we found ourselves in the local 'Curd and Honey' shop to taste the legendary sludge that we'd heard so much about in Dalhousie. It wasn't long until the Village People approached our table. Or at least on ex-member of the Village People. With a handlebar moustache like that he had to be. Dave, who's real name was Dee, runs a hippy commune style village called Jack's Place. The name comes from the lead character in his science fiction novel which has taken up residence at the editor's house! More on that in "Episode 10 : Jack Vs The Space Mutants!".

We awoke the next morning to the sound of 'Frere Jacque' drifting by our window as the local ice-cream man rolled on down the pavement. A few kilometres rambling later and we were being lead by the three Muskehounds up a hill trying to find a small cave hidden on the mountain side. The dogs spent the entire hike running into the undergrowth and snarling at random things - Jungle Chickens I imagine (more on these guys in the next exciting blog-isode!).

With the cave in the bag we thought we'd try and get to the top of Ella Rock. This was a little trickier than we'd first imagined and involved much Voodoo Kung Fu to navigate our way through the mine fields of local 'guides' that blocked the way to the top. A half an hour of intense tuck and rolling and Metal Gear Solidesque weaving in and out amongst the tea plants and we were within reach of the summit!

The skies were darkening and a grey mist was rising from the forest floor - the sensible thing to do would have been the shoulder our daypacks and brave the mine fields once more. So naturally we pressed on.

Five minutes of rambling through dense foliage and the heavens opened. Five minutes more and 'Cats and Dogs' were replaced by leeches and even more leeches as the treetops showered us in not-so-friendly little slinkies!

After more than a little Blair Witching through the misty tea plantations we made it back to our accommodation with about 7 of the beasties each! A little soap and water removes the critters with a bit of persuasion. By this time they had guzzled down enough blood to be used as movie squibs!

Squishing the little slinkies with the leg of a chair sent blood splattering all over the floor (our blood too!). It's amazing how tough they are - 15 or 16 hits with the chair leg and they still manage to crawl away! They leave nasty little bites too that bleed for an hour or two after they've been removed! Grrr ...

The 39 + 4961 Steps

2006-02-17T13:44:00.000Z

A look to the left, a step to the right, hands on our holsters, fingers itching ... where was Vladimir? But with no shotgun wielding Turkish workers obviously skulking about we jumped into the landlord's taxi (a Hi-Ace van). The three amigos were heading for the railway station and after more or less haggling our way out of the Taxi fare we boarded the train for Adam's Peak.

A surprisingly long bus journey later and we were in the 'Tackiest Place in Sri Lanka' (TM)! All of your usual favourites were available from many of the leading local stockists; inflatable Buddhas, glow in-the-dark Shivas - you bring it, they bling it!

After a little bit of wandering we found 'The Green House', a nice little hostel complete with garden terraces for dining. For around 5 Euro each we managed to get afternoon tea, dinner, pre-climb snack, a mammoth post-climb breakfast and a bed!

Several munching sessions later and we were ready to leave the hostel for the journey to the top. In order to be there for sunrise it's recommended that you give yourself 3 or 4 hours to climb the 5000 steps to the summit. With this in mind we closed our door at 2:30 a.m. and stepped out into the cool night air.

But Satan and his Devilled Chicken had other ideas and things didn't remain cool in my tummy for very long. It seemed that although everything had worked out nicely for Mr. Seagal, for me, it was going to be a very different story ...

Forty five minutes and several vows of vegetarianism later and the time had come to reach for the Immodium Instants (thanks mum!). Two tablets, some water and my trusty tea-cosy hat in hand and I was finally running away from the loo and towards the mountain to catch up with Myra and Mattieu.

As it turned out, the recommended time was rather generous and we summitted at 5:00 a.m., a good hour and a half before sunrise. After an initial ramble around the temple at the top we bedded down to wait for dawn.

Surprisingly my trusty board shorts and silk weight t-shirt didn't prove to be as warm as I might have liked for the wait - Mr. Patagonia strikes back yet again!

As the hour passed the sky slowly changed from a deep blue-black to a gorgeous yellowly red colour and a strange ghostly pyramid began to form in the sky behind us. Within minutes the faint shape darkened to a very distinctive grey and remained suspended in the air for the next half an hour or there abouts.

But with our toes slowly turning black, due to the icy stone paving of the summit temple, we decided to head back down for some well deserved breakie. Five thousand knee jarring, ligament tearing steps later we collapsed into one of the garden terraces and munched our way through the fancy array of Sri Lankan dishes that had been laid out before us.

Chicken Runs

2006-02-17T13:24:00.000Z

With a tear in our eyes we watched Bob drive off into the sunset heading for that great yellow bus in the distance. With the Frink-a-hedron wrapped up we decided to try make our way to Adam's Peak. This is one of Sri Lanka's most striking natural features not to mention one of its most celebrated places of pilgrimage - a miniature Matterhorn which stands head and shoulders above the surrounding hills.

Unfortunately, though, as our train pulled into Hatton, the local railway station, we were greeted by a throng of people all trying to make their way up to Dalhousie, the village at the base of the mountain. With things looking pretty grim and feeling a little unsure of what to do we bumped into a pair of British blokes who had just returned from the village and told us that it was a waste of time to attempt the mountain this weekend due to National Day falling on the Saturday. So we hopped back onto the train and decided to head for Nuwara Eliya instead.

On the way there we met Mattieu 'Dr. Richard Kimble' Latteux, a fugitive wanted by a collection of Parisien Turkish workers. He's been on the run since the day Vladimir and his cronies burst in his employer's office brandishing shotguns and demanding their money! So seeming to be a rather reputable type of character we hooked up with him for the next couple of days.

Pedro Tea Factory was our first stop in Nuwara Eliya. A funky little tea factory located in the hills around the village, decorated in a quaint 1950s British warehouse style. The only thing missing was a Bedford van parked in the yard. The great thing about Pedro though, is that for 50 Rupees (40 cent) you can take a complete tour of the factory and see how tea changes from a leaf to a teabag! They even throw in a tasty cup of factory made tea at the end of the tour!

It was a real treat as they switch on all the machinery as the tour brings you around the factory. Some of the units are over 60 years old and are still going strong. It's always great to see old machines churning away as you can usually see exactly how they work!

Back to our guest house and time for some food. Having been a little cautious up to now about eating meat and being very much a veggie I reckoned it was time to sample some local delights. So I ordered one Devilled Chicken meal. Hubble, bubble, toil and trouble and Satan himself was boiling up a broth of evil in my stomach!

A fast retreat to our room, the first with a TV, and it was just me and Steven Seagal for a quietish night in. For Seagal it was 'Marked For Death', for me, I won't even tell you what was left marked ...

The Cultural Frink-A-Hedron

2006-02-10T08:43:00.000Z

After managing to pick up a time-share job as a Tuk-Tuk driver with a bloke called Djadwara, Myra and I both knew it was time to leave Kandyland and get lost in the Cultural Triangle.

The Cultural Triangle is basically a Frink-a-hedron, or triangular, shaped area above Kandy which encloses the majority of early Sri Lankan historical items of interest. These include two ancient capital cities, Anuradhapura and Polonnaruwa, the magnificent Drambulla temple caves and the towering rock palace of Sigiriya.

To manage to visit all of these places in a reasonable amount of time we needed an unlicenced loose cannon of a driver willing to overtake anything that moved on or off the road. Luckily we found "Bob" a man who's last job finished with a game of chicken with a bus - he lost!

After spending an hour or two deciding on which side of the road to drive on Bob skidded into Drambulla. Drambulla is home to a massive cavern that has been artificially separated into five large temple caves.

The trick is to visit the caves in reverse order as they gradually increase in degrees of magnificence, culminating with the fantastic cave number two. To do so involves a rather toasty walk of fire across what must have been hot coals to reach the far end of the complex! (Hats and shoes have to be removed in all temples.)

Drambulla is truly stunning with the internal dimensions of some of the caves reaching a staggering 10 metres tall with a floor space of over 25 x 50 metres! Each chamber is intricately decorated with murals and frescos not to mention many, many amazing statues. Not to be missed!

Also worth a mention is quite simply the best Tuk-Tuk we have yet seen - The Rasta Mobile! In the car park of the temple we saw a Tuk-Tuk painted head to toe in rasta colours with a Jamaican flag on the front. The driver then moseyed over and it could have been Bob himself - dreads, rasta hat, the lot!

After rummaging out a fresh pair of boxers we had landed (yes landed!) in Sigiriya. Sigiriya is a medieval citadel that rises over 200 metres sheer from the surrounding plains. Around the base of the rock citadel lie a collection of gardens. These include the complex water and boulder gardens which give a good insight into the sophistication of ancient Sinhalese irrigation techniques.

But enough of horticulture and onto scaling the rock itself!

Shoes - Check.
Gear - Check.
Rope - Check.
Permission - Nope.

So over to the stairs instead and up the 1200 steps to the top of the citadel. As you clamber up the rusty and rather rickety stairway to the top you can see the original 'holds' that were etched into the rockface itself. All I can say is hats off to the brave climbers who lead the way to the top as the whole route is seriously exposed from start to finish with substantial falls!

Two thirds of the way up the is a large plateau which once played host to an enormous lion statue with the final staircase to the summit embedded within it. Today all the remains of this beast is its paws and a 'modern' rather dodgy cast iron set of steps leading to the citadel ruins.

The view from the top is breath-taking, offering a 360 degree panoramic Kodak Colour Moment. If you ramble around the top for a few moments you'll come across the palace pool and with a bit of luck you'll spot a single lonely tortle swimming about.

After bedding down for the evening we awoke to the noise of Bob revving the engine and attaching a spoiler and alloys that he had kept hidden until now. With the seat-belt securely fastened we were once again hurtling along towards Polonnuwara.

A short time later we found ourselves in the historical museum starring down at a fantastic miniature model of the entire site. The ruins occupy a rather large and impressive space and represent the culmination of generations of development until war and chaos lead to their abandonment in the late 12th century.

You can find every type of ancient Sri Lankan historical building here from stupas and dagabas to lodges and pools. Particularly funky is the Lotus Pool which consists of a set of concentric lotus flower shaped rings gradually deepening to form a bathing pool.

Back to the car to find Bob siphling off some petrol from a nearby Tuk-Tuk. Well maybe not, but he moved off pretty quickly none-the-less! Dinner, snoozing and a breakfast and we were on our way to Anuradhapura. The ruins here are from an older period of Sri Lankan history, around about the 5th century, and are noticeably less intact and well preserved.

We spent the afternoon wandering around the various temples and dagabas. The highlight for today was probably seeing a Buddhist monk being attacked by twenty odd monkeys for a bowl of coconut pieces! Finally the truth behind the old saying of not getting much work done with a monkey on your back makes sense!

Indiana Jones and the Temple of the Tooth

2006-02-03T14:08:00.000Z

Not a single mine cart in sight so it was back on foot for us down the train tracks to the heart of Kandy and the Temple of the Tooth. The temple holds a sacred tooth said to belong to the Buddha himself that was rescued from the ashes after his cremation. As the years passed the tooth relic became a symbol of Sri Lankan sovereignity and was always housed by the Sinhalese kings.

After two security checks (the temple was bombed by the Tamil Tigers in 1998 causing significant damage) we were allowed to enter the temple grounds and watch the cermony. This, in part, consists of traditional drumming which reverbrates around the whole structure creating an atmospheric mystical trance-like mood.

Unfortunately the tooth itself is no longer on continuous display (not since the 1920s) and only makes a brief appearance for a couple of weeks once every decade or so. Never-the-less there's plenty to keep you occupied with a large museum, spacious gardens and wonderful temple designs.

After this we paid a visit to the "Big Buddha House" (no Davina McCall lurking in the shadows). This is a rather funky 88 feet high Buddha statue complex that lies on a hillside overlooking the entire city. There's a winding staircase that leads about halfway up the statue to a small viewing perch. An excellent spot to get a good feeling for the layout of Kandy!

The final dish on the menu for today was a trip to the local cultural arts building which puts on a traditional dancing show every night. Some impressive dancing and acrobatics and even some fire walking thrown in for good measure (no sword swallowing though!).

Dumb and Dumbo

2006-02-03T14:02:00.000Z

Can Nephelumps really fly if they flap their ears hard enough? That's what Myra and I decided to go and find out! We caught what looked like a train but was actually a roller-coaster in disguise complete with kids (and me) screaming their lungs out as we passed through various tunnels on our way to a place called 'Pinnewala'.

Pinnewala is home to around 60 elephants and a small army of mice to keep them in check. There are two highlights to the day at the Pinnewala Elephant Orphanage - Feeding Time and Bath Time.

Feeding time takes place in a smallish enclosure with only four elephants and a couple of handlers to feed them with large milk bottles. I reckon that I might try persuade a few of them to make up a travelling 'boat team' for any world wide drinking competitions that we stumble across as they can really guzzle the gargle.

After feeding and some apparently well needed elephant loo breaks it was time for a quick ramble around the park. Just a small distance away the other 50 odd nephelumps are to be found roaming freely about. It's really amazing to be able to wander right up to them and touch the little baby elephants. Be careful though as they seem to hunt like Veloci-Raptors and before you know it you're completely surrounded (and still no sign of Mr. Goldblum)!

One elephant who definitely deserves a mention is Sama. This poor guy had the lower part of one of his front legs removed by a landmine. It's really tough to watch him limp from one place to another, especially as his back is becoming increasingly contorted as he has adapted to his injury.

Bath Time! Before you know it all 60 odd elephants are stampeding towards the river behind you! This was the best part of the day as the nephelumps spend the next 2 hours or so splashing about in the river water. I threw peanuts and super-soaked them, I even tried stealing their last Rolo - but nada.

So although it seems that nephelumps can neither fly, be used as portable fire-hoses nor shoot peanuts from their trunks they're still well funky and definitely worth visiting!

(Myra has a wee photo gallery exhibition on her page so don't forget to drop in for some nice shots!)

The Kandy Konnection

2006-01-31T11:44:00.000Z

A few segments of papaya fruit for breakie and we were hurtling along to Fort, the central district in Colombo, to visit the Kandy man. After a wee chat with Linton and briefly dropping into an internet cafe, which appeared to be run on-the-side in an office by some workers while their boss was away (complete with ongoing electronics soldering beside you!), we were on our way to Kandyland.

Kandy is Sri Lanka's second largest modern city and in historical times was a stronghold of Sinhalese culture and, for a time, was the country's capital. The city lies in the heart of the 'Hill Country' and remained largely inaccessible until the British completed construction of a railway line linking the city with Colombo in 1867. Kandy's most treasured building is probably the Temple of the Tooth which houses the legendary Buddha's Tooth, believed to be an orignal tooth retrieved from the ashes of the cremated body of the Buddha himself.

As luck would have it we managed to get a spot in Willy Wonka's Amazing Glass Elevator, otherwise known as the Observation Carriage. This is the trailing carriage of the train with the back facing wall being more or less completely made of glass. As the seats are all arranged in this direction we were able to spend the entire journey gazing through the window at the spectacular jungle-esque landscape sailing by.

We hurtled by everything from trackside homes to small signs reading 'Danger Weak Sleepers - Max 15 kmph'. The only thing missing was Jeff Goldblum muttering something about dinosaurs and frogs.

Apocolombo Now

2006-01-31T11:35:00.000Z

'Goooood Morning Viiieettt-Naaaammmm!!' - Johnny Harris
'...' - Me
'Where are you going?' - Johnny Harris
'Oh, we're heading up river, to the north, looking for Colonel Kurtz' - Me

Yup, that's how I'd like to remember my wake up call this morning, of course I didn't think of the fourth line until several hours later after a strong cup of brew!

We'd bumped into the (infamous) Johnny Harris, a sailing beach hobo of sorts who basically used to be in the navy but now sails about looking for the good life.

After a wee natter with him we rambled along the train tracks to the next station which seems to be the way the locals stroll around all the time. Our next stop was 'Barefoot', a funky mishmash of Sri Lankan culture and a nice cafe to boot. Or so according to the Rough Guide. Unfortunately it turned out to feel like a made to order 'funky' tourist place that everyone will drop into because it's mentioned in the RG. In fact it's the only spot that we've met any other tourists so far and feels like it's made for tourists to feel comfy in (think Kaffe Moka).

A quick caffeine top up later and we were dangling from the train doors to book our trip to Kandy and do a wee bit of Geocaching around Colombo. The trouble is, as we soon realised, that Geocaching around the city means following the roads to wherever they take you (usually into a speeding Tuk Tuk!).

Several close Tuk *u*ks on and with the skies darkening we found the building, a fancy old colonial hotel complete with period dressed attendants. Well worth the few hours we spent rambling around the city and I can really recommend Geocaching as a funky way to explore a new place.

Then back for some chow and a look at the extreme Baywatch setup they have on the beach where the lifeguards have to jump over a spiky fence before making the rescue!

Trains, Planes and Automobiles

2006-01-28T08:17:00.000Z

After chancing our arms and managing to sneak our 'slightly' over-sized rucksacks through Dublin airport, we eventually got nabbed at Heathrow and had to check-in what turned out to be a 15kg bag and perhaps the longest opening sentence for a blog entry ever!

Being my first flight in a long time on a non Ryanair plane, a 747 I guess, it was an altogether rather fancy affair with TV screens on the back of the seat rests with video games and movies to watch. So even-though I entered a caffenated Zombie mode there was plenty to do and some really excellent food (tasty curries for din dins and breakie too!).

After landing and grabbing our bags (at which point we noticed that Myra's funky keychain had been pinched enroute - I guess those Carrolls' mini Lephrechauns are even more valuable than we'd thought!) we entered the Sri Lankan version of 'Death Race 2000' a.k.a. Public Transport!

Now although Dave Gargan had warned me before leaving that neither the chicken nor the egg managed to make it across the road in Sri Lanka, I foolishly only laughed a little and straightened my J-Walking crown. Two minutes into the bus journey the crown was handed over to the driver and I prepared to fish out a fresh pair of boxers as we zoomed down the cluttered streets weaving in and out of the more-or-less on coming traffic (think Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban).

Along with the driver is an assistant conductor who basically holds onto whomever wishes to hop off and checks if the inside lane is clear before 'helping' them down over the three foot drop. The more experienced locals opt for the delicate 'Tuck and Roll' departure technique which looks like it could well be on the Extreme sports channel before too long.

The next stop was the train station where we met Linton, a rather helpful local railway/tourist assistant, who more-or-less completely sorted out our travels on Sri Lanka not to mention some accomadation for the evening and pointed us in the right direction to collect our tickets for part two of the 'Death Race 2000' tournament - 'The Night Train'!

... which wasn't actually too bad but was great fun to see. The whole railway network seems to consist of the orignal British set of trains from back in the colonial days. The doors are usually left open for the entire journey and people just jump on from both sides of the track and clamber onboard or cling to the outside. We'll hopefully have a few photos to show you in a few days time.