Amelia's Friendship Tour & Other Travels 2007 - Some Statistics

Now that I'm back in the UK, I thought I'd compile some statistics and other interesting info for this year: -

• Countries visited: Six - France, Nepal, Tibet/China, Japan, New Zealand, Australia
• Countries visited with mountains: Six (says something about my interests)
• Aussie states visited: Three - New South Wales, Victoria and Queensland
• Flights taken: too many, feel a bit guilty about that
• Favoured airline: Qatar Airways - for having nice staff and for upgrading me on the way back from Kathmandu
• Pentagonites visited: Ten - Aziza, Colette, Toni, Caroline, Margs, Tim, Dee, Sooze and honoraries Damien, Simone and (lived in the Pentagon for one month each)
• People seen who I've lived with: 12! - Aziza, Colette, Juliet, James, Toni, Caroline, Margs, Tim, Dee, Sooze, Damien, Simone
• School friends visited: One - Rosie in Japan
• Pentagon birthdays present for: Four (Aziza, Dee, Margs, Toni)
  
• Bands seen beginning with K: Two, The Klaxons and The Killers
• Crazy dances danced: many
• Nights spent in the gutter in the rain: one... I blame Caroline ;-)
• Countries where showered under a waterfall: two - Nepal and New Zealand
• Countries swam in: four Nepal, Japan, New Zealand, Australia
• Aussie barbies eaten: two, both expertly cooked by Aussie men. Three including brekkers!
• Kit Kat varieties sampled: infinite amounts, including green tea, kiwi fruit and melon
• Cupcakes eaten: seven thousand six hundred and eighty five. Or at least it feels like it
• Shoes broken: one, sliding down a hill on a piece of card with Colette and Aziza
• Shoes gained: errr, several pairs - one for free from Caroline (thanks!) one for $9.50 in NZ and one for the Melbourne Cup, half price navy blue boots - gotta be savvy about these things!
• Items lost: so many it's ridiculous - ring, penknife, clothing... the list goes on but it's just too upsetting to write it

• Favourite food: Japanese - though best meal goes to Botswana Butchery in Wanaka - thanks JJ!
• Favourite venue: The Espy, Melbourne
• Favourite weather: Australia...despite some dodgy English-like days!
• Favourite mountains: sorry, but it has to be the Himalayas
  
• Worst hangover: very tough call between post crazy Melbourne night, post host bar night and post Auckland night out. Post host bar night wins! Dodgy green local brew is to blame
• Worst mosquito bites: tough call, but would have to plump for Nepal and the time those little buggers bit my face
• Worst travel illness: Tibetan donkey flu - I still don't think my lungs have recovered
• Worst local drink: Raksi, which tastes similar to meths. Not that I generally drink meths you understand
  
• Highest point visited: Somewhere high up on the Tibetan plateau - 5200 metres
• Strangest place slept: on the floor in a cramped smoke-filled room on grass mats which I was allergic too, next to three other volunteers and the most corn I've ever seen.
• Strangest place drank: in a club in a subway station in Japan or with locals in a remote village in the Kathmandu valley
• Strangest place eaten: in a local momo store in the back streets of Lhasa, Tibet, with all the local ladies gawping at me
• Biggest culture shock: arriving in Nepal and driving through the streets to my guest house. I'd never seen so much poverty at close hand before
• Hardest battle: trekking in the Himalayas - or persuading 45 enthusiastic Nepalese ten year olds to be quiet
• Biggest challenge: persuading myself to keep going after six weeks in Nepal. I was sick of the disorganisation, sick of the food and lack of comfort and generally sick. But I kept going!

• Most attractive city: Sydney
• Most awkward moment: being publicly told off for dropping two grains of rice on a table in Pokhara, Nepal
• Most cultural conflict: Tibet
• Most polite people: Japan
• Most friendly (and nosy!) people: Nepal
• Most laid back people: New Zealand
• Most boozy nation: Oz?!
• Most bizarre food; crazy massaged meat in Japan? Looks very bad for you but tastes so good!

• Smartest car: Toni
• Most dilapidated car: Juliet and Ian
• Best skier: Ian...closely followed by my little sister, dammit
• Biggest cupcake tease: Caroline
• Most jammy: Sooze, for swinging corporate tickets to the Melbourne Cup, closely followed by Aziza, for managing to get paid while taking time off, having a company car and getting petrol paid for too!
• Most generous: everyone! Thanks so much - I would never have been able to do the Friendship Tour without you guys!

Learn the Lingo, Dingo: Aussie Rules

It's well known that Australians have their own, uniquely Australian language from the greeting "G'Day mate" to "throw another shrimp on the barbie". For those not familiar with their unique nuances and habits, here are a few basic rules to follow: -

Greet everyone with G'Day if it's an informal situation – this is the equivalent of Hello. Refer to everyone as Mate. Even if they aren't your mate - e.g. "Get lost, mate". Shorten words as much as possible, particularly people's names: -

"ie"

Angela becomes Angie
Australian becomes Aussie
Barbecue - Barbie
Christmas - Chrissie
Football becomes Footy, pronounced with a soft "T" somewhere between T & D
Mosquito - mossie
Presents - pressies
Sunglasses - sunnies
Tracksuit - trakkies

"o"
Johnathon becomes Johnno – thus you find Oz is populated by the likes of Johnno, Danno, Yobbo, Gobbo, Knobbo etc
Documentary - doco
Aggressive/aggravate - agro
Garbage Collector - garbo
Service station - servo
Bottle Shop - Bottlo
Smoko means a break from work for a smoke, and now means a tea break even if you don't smoke

To describe feelings, you may wish to use the following: -

I'm hungry: -
"I could eat the crotch out of a dead leper's undies"
"I could eat the horse and chase the jockey"
"So hungry I'd eat a shit sandwich, only I don't like bread"
"I could eat the arse out of a rag doll through a cane chair"
I'm thirsty: -
"I'm dry as a dead dingo's donger."
"I'm drier than a nun's nasty."
"I'm as dry as a pommie's bath mat."
"I'm as dry as a bull's bum going up a hill backwards."
I'm going for a wee: -
"Gonna drain me dragon"
"Need to syphon the python"
"Takin' the kids to the pool"
"Gonna go water a horse"
"Shake hands with the wife's best friend"
I'm going for a poo: -
"I gotta go give birth to a Kiwi"
"Off to the bog to leave an offering"
"There's a brown dog barking at the back door"
"I'm going to give birth to your twin"

Add some gentle insults to your vocabulary: many Aussie colloquialisms affectionately take the mick or offer backhanded compliments. You might call a clumsy or foolish mate 'dag', 'galah', 'drongo' or 'boofhead'. Drongo is probably my personal favourite, which I've had the pleasure of hearing Aussies use on several occasions, meaning a dimwit, an inept, awkward, stupid or embarrassing person. There are also many ways of saying someone isn't particularly helpful or clever, such as: -
"A chop short of a barbie"
Couldn't find a grand piano in a one-roomed house"
"A stubbie short of a six pack."
"Couldn't blow the froth off a glass of beer"
"Useless as an ashtray on a motorbike"
"I hope your ears turn into arseholes and shit on your shoulders"
"About as useful as a one-legged man in an arse-kicking competition"

Colloquialisms of Aboriginal, Australian or British origin are common, and are integrated into local vocabulary, for example: -
Moggie - cat
Dinky-di - someone who is reliable, honest, genuine and true
Sanger - sandwich
Billabong - naturally damned body of water

To avoid getting too confused by restaurant menus, visit a supermarket to pick up things like the following: -

Capsicum – pepper
Egg plant – aubergine
Lollies – sweets/candy
Rock mellon – cantaloupe mellon
Zucchini – courgette
Disso – disinfectant cleaner
Biscuits – crackers, not sweet biscuits

And finally, here are a few choice phrases: -

"You're the shit that hangs off the wool on the rear end of a sheep": You're worthless
"She spat the dummy": "She had a tantrum"
"May your chooks turn into emus and kick your dunny down": Said to put a curse on someone
"He has kangaroos in the top paddock": He's a bit crazy, mentally unbalanced
"She got the rough end of the pineapple": She got a raw deal.
"Go bite your bum!": Be quiet. And on that note...until next time.

A Day At the Races: Melbourne Madness

I fell in love with Melbourne as soon as I landed in the city.

I met Sooze at the airport, where her parents picked us up and promptly dropped us off in town at the Casino for what was going to be a nice quiet night of catching up. Before I knew it, we were talking nineteen to the dozen, drinking champagne, then ripping up the dance floor in a cheesy bar called JJ's. Everyone else was about 20 years older than us, and didn't seem to be having a good time when we arrived - it was a sea of grumpy faces. With our air guitar, crazy dancing and Sooze's song miming at the head of the impressive grand piano we soon changed that, causing havoc as we went. Intending to go home, we got in a taxi only to find ourselves heading to Melbourne institution Revolver for some late night grunge and yet more boogieing. The night was finished with lots of giggling and the required cups of tea and toast back at Sooze's house (plus a tour of her Mum's food cupboard in all its biscuity glory). A fine introduction to a fine city!

The following days were spent cruising about, taking in the earthy atmosphere, pretending to be robots/devils/stick men at the Museum of the Moving Image, gawping at crazy art that we didn't understand, helping Sooze survive the city's highest building, drinking coffee and perhaps a few wines here and there, dancing to some awesome live music at the Espy in St Kilda - and of course, shopping... for we had a very important day to prepare for...

Early on Tuesday morning, Sooze and I got up to get ready for the Melbourne Cup. When I told Sooze I'd visit her home town, she suggested we go to the Cup and I readily agreed. At that point, I had no idea of the style we'd be going in - she had managed to swing us corporate tickets in the Winner's Enclosure. It's all about having friends in the right places folks ;-). Donning hats, high heels and posh dresses, we headed for the Yarra river and set sail with a host of important and smart looking people (why did they let us on I wonder?!). Complete with champagne - as much as you wanted. And breakfast - yum yum little baby muffins and croissants. And the most amazing weather we could hope for - not a cloud in the sky.

Feeling like VIPs, we docked at Flemington and crossed the race track away from 'the common people' to our air conditioned tent near the finishing post. The champagne continued to flow, and we had the most delicious food at group tables - little canapes, then later lunch and desserts. We even had little presents to open, each containing a brand new pair of binos! Flemington is famous for its roses, and it certainly didn't disappoint.

But on to more important matters...The Melbourne Cup is Australia's major annual thoroughbred horse race. It takes place on a day of ten races (this year, the Emirates Melbourne Cup), and the actual Cup is race number seven... so there were plenty of races before hand to get us in the mood. The tension was particularly high this year, as a lot of horses weren't able to compete because of restrictions due to horse flu. We were given race books to swat up on those that had been taking their cold and flu tablets and to study the odds, and had several betting stands near us - so naturally, we got into the spirit early on. We poured over the likes of Maybe Better, Master O'Reilley, Just Curious and Simplest. I of course used serious tactics to decide which horses to go for in each competition - Blue Monday, because it is a song by New Order, Secret Daughter, because it sounds like a book I read recently...that sort of thing. Fail safe I thought. Not so! I did win 25 bucks on race four, but of course I got cocky and promptly spent it (and more).

By the time the actual Melbourne Cup rolled round, we were, ahem, several champagnes along and very much into the swing of the whole event (we had even picked up a couple of swanky gents to cruise around the race course with). We moved from the seats in our private grandstand (wooo!) to stand on the grass and watch the action close up. Sooze and I had placed so many different bets on different horses we figured one of us had to at least win something! Suddenly, the 'race that stops the nation' kicked off and the crowd on both sides of the course went wild, everyone screaming and waving as the horses ran past us and around the track. As they neared us a second time, it was neck and neck and it looked like I was going to get lucky with Purple Rain, until he was pipped at the post by Efficient. Damn. Guess he lived up to his name.

I looked at Sooze and she was laughing. "I didn't think it was any of our horses?", I queried. "It was my mystery bet!", she said with glee. So another winner for Sooze... We decided to cross and see what was happening on the other side of the tracks. It was chaos! By this stage in the afternoon, many people were looking sunburned, drunk, having arguments, missing bits of their outfits - hats, shoes, dresses... nevermind the horses, it was fantastic for people watching! We saw another race...and Sooze's horse Snort (great name eh?!) won. She went to claim, only to find she had misplaced the winning ticket. Damn!

So it was all go at the races...by the end of the last race, we'd been going for some time. The horses think they have it tough running for three and a half minutes, but we'd been drinking ten hours! That didn't stop us taking advantage of further beverages on the boat trip back into the city though. Or ending up at the Casino...deja vu, I thought to myself as I poured another glass of champers...

OTB, In More Ways Than One...

Sydney's Harbour Bridge is no secret; in fact, it's one of the most
instantly recognisable images from Australia.

Within 20 minutes or so of me landing in Oz, Caroline and Toni were driving
me across this world-wide icon in all its glory. Since then, I've gone
OTB (over the bridge...generally referred as going over the bridge
from south to north...most of my pals live OTB) on the bus, the train
and on foot. But it wasn't until Tuesday October 30th (Toni's
birthday) that I had experienced the most exciting and spectacular way
of crossing it...

On Tuesday, Tones and I got up at 5am and watched the sunrise over the
Bridge from Mc Mahons Point. Little did she know... Later that day I
picked her up from work, and took her to BridgeClimb for a birthday
surprise. We were decked out in fetching grey one piece numbers, which
looked like giant baby suits, and kitted out in full climbing
caboodle. Everything was attached to our clothing with little hooks,
and we even had headlamps and special straps for our sunnies. For
safety reasons, you can't take anything loose (including
cameras...which is a good thing, as no one would ever make it around
if they were stopping for pics every few seconds!). After a trial
climb up some stairs, we set off up like intrepid mountaineers set to
conquer a fabulous structure...

Before long, we were in the thick of the Bridge, going through it,
admiring the engineering and watching the world go by below us. A
short while later, we were on a level with the cars, people, bikes and
trains crossing the bridge itself, and clambering up several steep
ladders, hoiking our little chains a bit like prisoners all in a
line... but feeling infinitely superior as we were doing something few
people get to do! Soon after that, we were on the curve of the famous
arch itself, being told stories about its history and people who died
during its construction...

The view was simply spectacular as we ascended to the top; we could
see right across Sydney to the Blue Mountains and out to sea at the
other side. We could see the bright lights of Lunar Park and the tall
buildings of the city beckoning in the distance. The weather was just
perfect as we stopped for pictures with icons like the Opera House in
the background, and joked around in our oh-so-sexy giant jelly bean
outfits, looking windswept at the top. We descended as twilight was
coming on, hanging back at the end to see the sunset - beautiful.
Excellent fun...a very successful birthday surprise!

G'Day Mate:: Hanging with Sydney-siders

A couple of weeks ago I arrived in Sydney for the first time. I was greeted by Caroline, Toni and Bouncer the dog - complete with homemade welcome poster and balloon. Awesome, I've never had that kind of welcome before!

 

Since then I've been catching up with everyone, soaking up the sights, sounds and smells of Sydney and generally getting into mischief. I've lost count of the times I've seen that bridge and travelled over it - I walked across it this morning before 7am after watching the sun rise behind it, which was pretty cool. I've hung out with digital artists in the University of Technology, Sydney (UTS), been filmed walking around art galleries and visited numerous museums - very cultured, mate. I've sampled the local beverages, eaten at the fish markets, walked through bushland, swum in the water and lazed on the famous beaches. I've been to a charity launch, gawped at the Opera House and stared at the posers at Bondi with a mixture of envy and smug satisfaction that my life isn't all about posing... fortunately for me!

 

Some highlights so far include: -

• Visiting the Blue Mountains with Toni. Not only did we cruise along in Toni's Beamer on a gorgeous sunny day to go to the spectacular Jenolan Caves, check out the famous Three Sisters and visit the stunning Scenic World (complete with the world's steepest railway), but my good friend provided some helpful travel narrative. "What kind of tree is that Tones?" "It's a green tree. That one's a green tree too. That one's a yellowy-green tree". "What kind of bird is that?", "A damn noisy one". "Why do some trees look like they're bleeding?", "They're heartbroken because their friend has died - he's been chopped down", "But all the bleeding trees are together", "Yeah, they're all heartbroken because they're all friends. It's really sad". "What time is sunrise?" " 5.57...and first light is a little before sunrise" - No shit Sherlock!
• Chasing the Cupcakes and other culinary delights. After a day visiting the markets, Caroline decided to take me to Babycakes. Well, to try and take me. We just kept ending up on the wrong side of the railway, and when we eventually got to the shop, it had shut. No! So we visited another shop a few days later, with the most immaculate cupcakes I've ever seen - they seem to be somewhat of an Aussie obsession. I've also been to the dedicated chocolate cafe where you create your own hot choc, and I've been sampling every kind of choc bar I can get my hands on, with mixed results. All in the name of research obviously.
• Sitting in the gutter with Caroline having some roadies in true Oz style- we're classy birds. We were waiting for the Klaxons gig in Newtown and it was bucketing it down. Rather like England in fact. Poor Toni turned up looking slightly drowned. Is it possible to look slightly drowned? You get the picture. By the by, the gig was fantastic, and some crazy dancing was danced.
• Drinking cocktails at the top of the Shangri-La Hotel, and boozing at the Opera Bar looking across the harbour. Slightly higher on the classiness scale!
• Visiting Palm Beach, aka 'Summer Bay' (where Home & Away is filmed) with Caroline, then watching an electrical storm on the way home. '"You know we belong together..."
• Hunter Valley Wine Tour with Toni and Bridy. Naturally, this was high on the booze scale, and pretty amusing. The other people in our minibus were a pretty dull bunch, so the three of us had to make our own entertainment. We visited four different wineries, sampling around seven or eight wines at each. Plus drinking another two bottles in between tastings. It was a lovely sunny day, and we also got to sample chocolate and cheese - what more could a girl want?! We were slightly concerned at our last vineyard, when our host told us each wine is named after a dead person, who has their ashes spread on the vines... slightly morbid, but it didn't stop us enjoying the beverages on hand. In case you're interested, Cyril tasted the best. Many bottles of vino were purchased. And the whole bus (those that weren't sleeping) got to hear 'Toni's tales of trouble' on the way home...
• Having an Aussie barbie at Toni's apartment, complete with all the Pentagonites present in Sydney - six in total.

This afternoon I'm off to do something very exciting for Toni's birthday. She doesn't know what it is yet, so I'll leave it at that...

Sweet As Bro, She'll Be 'Right Mate, Good As Gold

A couple of quick observations on the kiwi nation before I move on to Oz...

• Kiwis are kiwi and proud. It was a sorry day when the All Blacks went out
• Kiwis very much have their own lingo - some favourite phrases: "if your brains were barbed wire you couldn't fence a dunny" (you are stupid), "two-thirds of five-eighths of fuck all" (very little), "up shit creak in leaky gumboots"  (variant of up shit creek without a paddle, meaning in trouble), "couldn't see the road to the dunny if it had red flags on it" (said of someone slow witted...or totally drunk)...I could go on.
• It's customary to refer to everyone as mate, bro or cuz - even if they aren't.
• It's compulsory to add 'eh?' to the end of as many statements as possible: they don't have to be questions. Examples: "it's real cool eh?", "facking hot mate eh?", "gotta get my a into g eh?", "always good to have a tinnie in ya hand mate eh?"
• They are positive about everything, and understate any problems. You say, "My dog got run over"...it's "she'll be right mate!"... "No, my dog is dead"..."Aw...she'll be right mate! This is a common attitude to indicate everything will be ok - refreshing coming from the UK.
• Everything is nice, delicious, fantastic, awesome, amaaazing - never described as mediocre. Even if it is.
• Kiwis frequently state the obvious. Their signposts make me chuckle, with helpful things such as "wrong way" on the road and "do not do this because...listing a million reasons".

I spent my last night in NZ in Christchurch with James, who I lived with in Bristol about 7 years ago and hadn't seen for about 5. He had arrived two days earlier, for a two year stint and is yet to learn the above... give it about a week I say! Catch ya later bro...

Garage Tales: Skiing, Swimming & Sunbathing in NZ's South Island

My sister Juliet is living in a garage. No joke.

When she told me she was living in a garage, I somehow expected it to be, well, less garage like. Not so! There is one main huge area which is the bedroom cum living room cum kitchen cum dining room cum guest cum ski room cum storage room cum TV room...you get the picture! In typical JJ style, this room looks like a veritable soup of everything she owns - strewn about the place are skis, boots, undies, thermals, an incredible amount of hats, books, alcohol, receipts, half-eaten chocolate bars, bits of rubbish and all number of interesting but potentially trippable overable objects. You have to go out of a locked door to get to the toilet, and the shower looks like its made from a car - the floor is metal. And given JJ is living in a garage, it was a little surprising that her car looked like it was going to fall apart - the exhaust was making those worrying 'may be about to drop off' type noises. But it - and we - survived a very fun nine days of exciting activities!

JJ and Ian picked me up at Queenstown and took me straight out for a much welcome hangover cure at Fergburger - I blame Colette and Aziza for my slightly sorry state on the plane... We drank chili hot chocolate (awesome, you should try it) and wandered around the lake before going on the familiar drive to Wanaka. It was so strange to be back in that part of the world - I'd been over four years earlier with Andrew on our South Island road trip and the memories just came flooding back.

The following days were spent lounging around on the beach, walking up hills, going to Puzzling World and getting lost in the maze, eating muffins, watching the one TV channel, joking around and skiing at Cardrona, where I had been four years ago. Juliet is disgustingly good now, being an instructor and all - I tried not to be too jealous! To be honest, the 'sunbathing' of this title is a little ironic...I was bloody freezing, and couldn't understand it when everyone kept saying "it's warm, isn't it eh?!" in all truthfulness! We went to the funky local cinema twice, where you can sit on sofas, airline chairs and even in a car, to see The Lives Of Others and Die Hard 4 (rock on Brucey!). But a more amazing thing was being taken out to a gorgeous restaurant by my younger sister - this was a turnover for the books but I'm not complaining! I ate the best lamb I've ever tasted, and some tongue-loosening cocktails...

We took a road trip down south (and yes, the car did make it!), stopping at Te Anau on the way. JJ and Ian went off to the Glow Worm Caves, while I ran around the lake. Yes, you did read that correctly. Well, when I say ran round the lake, I don't mean ALL the way round. And I did screw up slightly be eating pizza and drinking wine afterwards but that's not the point!

The next day we headed to Doubtful Sound for an amazing overnight cruise. We set sail like the explorers of old, taking a boat and a bus just to get to the sound. We cruised all over amid spectacular scenery, spotting penguins, bottlenose dolphins, albatross and fur seals. We rammed our faces full of delicious food, went kayaking under waterfalls, gazed at the stars from the deck and couldn't believe our luck when we got an extra large cabin - bingo! JJ was crazy enough to go swimming in the fiord... For a full piece on the cruise including photos see http://www.hereorthere.com/

Nude Night & Naughtiness in New Zealand's North Island

After a final (slightly hungover) day in Tokyo, I left the land of kimonos and hello kitty vibrators to fly to the nation of the All Blacks and crazy kiwis.

 

I arrived into Auckland where the (just as crazy, just as kiwi) Aziza met me and took me back to her cottage in the woods in Te Atatu. This humble abode has quite a reputation, which did not disappoint - it was filled with an unbelievable amount of stuff, including Ziz's amazing shoe collection (seriously, how many shoes can one chick own?!) and a host of bizarre animals, ornaments and decorations. "Cool, eh?!", she said as she showed me flamingos made with real flamingo feathers, her famous 'fruit shoes' and scary creatures from Lord of the Rings. Ziz had taken the next nine days off work (though still getting paid - jammy bugger!) and "scored us a car", complete with petrol paid for - you know you can rely on your old pals to sort you out when you travel to the other side of the world. Sweet as bro!

 

Over the following days, we preceded to get into sufficient mischief to make up for lost time, having not seen each other for over six months since we left London - me bound for Nepal, her heading for Africa. We celebrated Ziz's birthday with the lovely Colette (another Pentagonite) and Damien, the family, and a host of other folk who I had heard about but never met. We drove up north, got blown around, looked for fish and ended up partying with old friends we bumped into in the pub. We exchanged stories, walked in the rain and got drenched where The Piano was filmed. We stopped our car to moo at a big brown cow. Seriously. And the cow mooed back.

 

We went on a road trip to Taupo, Rotorura, Mount Maunganuie and the Coromandel Peninsula. We sat in thermal rivers (an awesome experience, I wish I could do it all the time), watched traditional Maori performances and smelt the sulphur of the active volcanoes and geysers. We visited Hot Water Beach and failed miserably to made a hot pool. We stayed in a poky hostel where there were cat hairs but no cat - disturbing. We lay on the beach to recover from our hangovers, chased each other with seaweed and sang loudly to the radio as we drove along.

 

Crucially, this being Amelia's Friendship Tour, we recreated the Pentagon Party spirit with Colette. We drove out to Devonport, drank wine and ate Japanese Kit Kats on a little private beach, got lost in underground tunnels and laughed hysterically as we slid down steep hills on bits of cardboard, invariably ending up with grass stained bums, collapsed in a heap, or in my case, hanging upside down. I managed to break my new pink shoe and spill red wine on the only two new tops I had purchased before leaving the UK. Some things never change. We drank Feijoa wine and danced in town, before writing drunken postcards, drinking tea and plaiting my grey hair. What more could you ask for?!

 

That said, there's serious competition for the most random night spent in NZ so far, despite the short time I've been here. Was it meeting all Ziz's family and getting a potted life history at her b'day party? Was it the Brazilian night at Mount Maunganuie, where rugby players dressed up as schoolboys, suicide bombers and Spiderman (guess the theme) and random South American men tried to grope us? Was it seeing the funniest kiwi flick I've seen - Eagle Versus Shark (watch it, it's great!)? Was it the family dinner where the discussion about the V word went on for ages? Was it the night spent drinking wine in Northland after bumping into someone Ziz hadn't seen in years, then driving back through Wolf Creek territory in the middle of nowhere, along ridiculously bendy roads, in the dark, and hitting our second possum in two days - which had mysteriously disappeared when we went back to look for it?!

 

Pray, these nights all scored high on the Randometer. But the winner has to be this - Nude Night at the Palm Springs hotpools in Helensville. After a day being almost blown away on the beach, Ziz suggested we take a trip to the hotpools to warm up, have a couple of glasses of wine and catch up on gossip. I readily agreed, being generally up for most things that involve being warm, gossip, drinking wine...oh, and of course, getting my kit off (joking). 

 

We arrived and walked in. There was ominous looking black sheeting surrounding the pools so you couldn't see in, and notices saying that clothing/nudity was not compulsory - "Don't be shy"!  Despite the fact I did actually know it was Nude Night, I was still a bit taken aback as we entered the pools and were surrounded by naked bodies of all sizes. I didn't know where to look, and scurried off to the changing rooms to get changed - which basically involved removing my clothes. We poured some wine for Dutch courage (me needing it more than Ziz, being 'nude' to the experience so to speak) and got in the first pool.

 

I looked around and was struck by the imbalanced gender ratio. There were so many more men than women, particularly older men. No matter how hard you try, you can't help but check out the bodies on display as everyone sits, swims and wanders around starkers - especially people who look like they're wearing clothes, but aren't (not the most pleasant image admittedly). I had to really resist the temptation to giggle uncontrolably and make comments about the different willies on display. It's funny, but in that situation you do lose your self consciousness and it is kind of liberating. It doesn't seem to matter what people look like. There were some amusing moments, and we made sure we steered clear of the hidden hotpools where there are apparently all kinds of funny goings on... Needless to say, we had some interesting conversations on the way home!

 

 

 

For additional travel writing, including stories on particular destinations (including photos) visit www.hereorthere.com Thanks!

 

Hello Kitty & Host Bars: One Night In Tokyo

My last night in Japan was one of the most bizarre nights ever.

Kathy, one of Rosie's friends, had been too hungover to go to work
that day (sorry, I mean she had 'a fever' after a night in Ropongi),
and had been showing me around all day, taking in the delights of
Harajuku (complete with crazily haired teenagers in platform shoes and
grown women dressed as Little Bow Peep - WFT?!) and Shibuya, full of
trendy boutique shops, cafe culture and 'too cool for school' types
dressed in the latest funky clobber.

At dusk, we headed to Shinguku, which seems to be the centre of the
Japanese madness - on the West side is the huge posh business
district, and on the East side, the capital of sleaze, complete with
neon lights, love hotels, hostess bars, prostitutes and all manner of
debauchery. My friends had been trying to tell me it's "not that
sleazy"... men go there to "get things done that they don't want to
make their girlfriends do"... Personally I'm not sure how that makes
it not that sleazy, but this is the Japanese argument!

We checked out Tokyo at dusk from the observation tower in the famous
Government Metropolitan building before heading down a mysterious
looking alleyway for food, beers and sake. That stuff is strong man, I
could feel it flowing through my veins! After showing my bra to some
curious Japanese women (it's not as bad as it sounds) we wandered the
streets of Tokyo, going into random shops where you can buy the most
unbelievable tat I've ever seen. You can pick up anything from giant
banana cushions and tiny nurse's outfits to hello kitty vibrators and
even nose pluckers (gross) if you feel so inclined. You can pimp out
your mobile phone with real diamonds, and you can accessorise
everything from your hair to your car (my favourite is a seat cover
that makes it look like Mickey Mouse is sitting next to you).

Next, we played on drum machines (I was rubbish) and messed around in
the photo booths. In these, you follow instructions on positions and
dance erratically to plinky plonky Japanese music, then decorate your
pics with lurid colours and crazy symbols. By this point I was almost
hysterical with laughter, had lost my Tokyo guide book in all the
excitement and was fully into the swing of the uniquely Japanese
delights of the city's nightlife.

Just when I thought the night couldn't get any crazier, we started
walking in the red light district proper, passing amusing posters of
men and women posing, and every type of love hotel you could imagine
(burlesque fetish anyone?). Before I knew what was happening, Kathy
was suggesting we go to a host bar - something she hadn't been brave
enough to do in three years of living in Japan...

So, after some negotiation, off we went with a small Japanese chap,
down some stairs into the darkness...We were greeted by a whole load
of men in a glitzy room complete with white sofas, glass tables, gold
bars and an endless supply of some kind of local green cocktail. For
those who have not experienced the pleasures of the host bar, the idea
is this: you go and sit at a table, while a selection of men comes and
visits you, pours you drinks and entertains you with scintillating
conversations and flattery. They each give you their card and rotate
around different tables, and at the end of your allocated time you are
free to "pick a man and go upstairs with him...". Obviously I am
dedicated to my boyfriend, so I was just tagging along in the interest
of research (and some very good value entertainment).

As we sat there with Kathy jabbering away in Japanese, the guys tried
to speak English to me. The first offering was (and I quote), "Sexy,
lovely, beautiful. I want you, I need you, I love you!" said in a very
dramatic tone with suitable (or unsuitable?!) accompanying actions.
After their basic English was exhausted, I busied myself with asking
rude questions via Kathy, on such topics as sexual positions. This led
to some highly amusing mimes and a lot of laughter. In summary, I'm
glad I wasn't depending on this event to find the love of my life
(already having him back in the UK!) but the two hour period was
hilarious. Needless to say, Kathy didn't make it to work the next day
either!

Nose-shitting & Other Japanese Oddities

Japan is a very bizarre but fantastic place. At once Western yet
distinctly Asian, it and its people are full of quirks. Here's a quick
snapshot of some of its oddities: -

Attitude to photo taking: people often make jokes about Japanese
tourists, but I swear they are actually worse in Japan itself. On my
first full day in the country, I was at Nagoya Castle, trying to look
at the exhibits in the museum. I say trying, because every time I went
to look at something, this Japanese couple stood in front of it to
take a photo of the woman, then the man. No matter how hard I tried,
they were everywhere I turned, leaping out from behind corners, posing
next to swords and grinning inanely at me. They didn't seem to
actually look at anything themselves, just take pictures.

In Kyoto, I was laying on the fake grass and fake earth (weird or
what?!) outside the Manga Museum, when my friend Ross bleeped me on
the walkie talkie he and Warren had bought (this gadget business is
evidently catching). He said "There's a man right behind you, he keeps
taking photos". I thought he was taking the mick, so didn't want to
give him the satisfaction of looking round for about five minutes. But
when I eventually looked, there actually was a man there, taking pics
of my fat ass as I lay there. I wonder what he planned to do with them
- you know what they say about Japanese men...

Obsessions: along with the aforementioned photo taking, many Japanese
people are in love with with Pachinko. This is a game played in huge
halls with neon blazing, involving loads of metal balls which make the
most enormous racket. So far, no one I've asked has successfully been
able to explain the rules. Other crazes include bizarre fashion - such
as wearing long socks with massive platform heels (and this is
including the men as far as I can tell) - mobile phone decorations,
love hotels, hello kitty, cars, technology, tea, Western people, over
packaging everything, remote controlled toilets (bum shower and
blowdry anyone?), vending machines (these sell all sorts of objects,
from pin-on badges and cigarettes to hot and cold coffee) and any kind
of accessory you could want to buy for anything, anywhere.

Bow offs: someone told me about this the other day, and I had to put
it to the test myself. If you go into a shop and you bow, the
shopkeeper must bow lower than you. If you bow again, lower, they must
once again bow lower - and so on. This can go on for some time, with
amusing and sometimes dizzying results.

Cultural/language oddities: - if you say 'HI!' it means yes, which can
be a little confusing given Brits often say it when meeting someone -
you can find yourself accidentally agreeing to something you
definitely don't want to do... You have to watch out when you're
drinking - "chin chin" means "penis penis". It's very rude to blow
your nose - not so affectionately known as taking a nose shit. There
are many fine examples of Engrish... and Japanese people are so nice,
polite and worrying about every little detail that it can be somewhat
unnerving. You just want to tell them to relax and take a chill pill.

Size: everything is either very big or very small - including the
people. On arriving, I did feel like a heffer. I mean, I know I'm no
sumo wrestler, but, once again in Asia, I felt like a bit of an oddity
and an amusement - especially when dancing next to the most
unbelievably skinny young ladies. But it's all good - I know that no
matter how much sushi I eat, I'll still be a good foot taller than
most of them!

Land of the Rising Sun

Just over a week ago, I set off from Heathrow Airport bound for adventure again. Stopping off in Dubai, I whiled away some hours people watching, chuckling at the man who got on the travellator the wrong way and so on. Best not to try that one unless you want to do an amusing little dance and collapse on top of your luggage. After what seemed like an age, I arrived at Nagoya Airport to be met by my friend Rosie and her American boyfriend Brian. We drove straight out to their local sushi restaurant, where we scoffed our faces with the best sushi I've ever had - tuna, salmon, eels, crab soup, yum. UK alternatives are never gonna live up to it.

  

So far, I've sampled sushi, udon, ramen, soba, tempura and a host of other Japanese delights (though steering clear of the blowfish - the one that can kill you if you eat the wrong bit). I've marvelled at the weird and wacky food on offer in the supermarkets, from whale meat - unfortunately they really do hunt and eat it here - octopus legs and a host of unidentifiable but alarmingly coloured substances to the most expensive fruit I've ever seen. Still no square melons, sadly. I've tasted bizarre marbled beef (we think) from a cow that's had a special massage to make it extra fatty... though someone later suggested to me maybe it had been kept in a small cage and not allowed to move. I much prefer the romantic idea of cows being pampered, getting manicures, watching daytime TV and enjoying the good life.  Rosie and Brian have taken me to a crazy local venue down a long and dark alleyway, frequented by actors and the airline industry, where the owner collected phallus shaped objects.

 

I've travelled alone on the speedy shinkansen to Kyoto, and had an impromptu night out with some random but lovely English guys I met in possibly the most bizarre hostel I've ever stayed in - ramshackle and perhaps insane are two ways to describe it. We went to 80s night at Metro, a club where you enter through the station and it's all kitted out like a subway. There was an enthusiastic MC in an Elvis wig and lots of Japanese dancing badly, excellent fun. I've visited historic temples, rock gardens and shrines, got on wrong buses in the city, looked unsuccessfully for geisha, fantasised about being as skinny as a Japanese person, slept in a traditional ryokan on a futon and gawped at a massive fat golden guy (a revered 16m statue of Buddha in Nara, the country's first capital). I've laughed at a show featuring the 'golden bat' in the International Manga Museum, had discussions on superhero qualities and got frustrated when my camera battery ran out visiting some amazing sites - I was left with a picture of me and a deer rather than the incredible things I had gone to see!

 

I've also pondered about the Japanese... Laying awake in the middle of the night, I thought I was experiencing an earthquake as my top bunk in the dorm started shaking. I looked on the lower bunk and the Japanese girl I was sharing with was juddering and gyrating on the bed and pumping her arm up and down. Not necessarily in a sexual way, but I have to say it was extremely odd. On the train to Nara, I wondered about the intentions of the chubby Japanese man next to me, who seemed to be sliding his hand under me and wriggling his podgy fingers - unfortunately I was sitting by a window and couldn't make myself any smaller. But generally, the people have been nice, helpful and super-polite.

 

Yesterday Rosie and Brian took me out of Nagoya to Tsumago and Magome, two towns in the country. We sampled saki and other delights, and went swimming in the cold and refreshing river - awesome. Rosie of course is dotty anyway, so it makes sense that I am visiting her in Japan, a country that so far seems to be full of weird and wonderful things to see and experience. I'm off to get myself into a zen-like state before heading to Tokyo this evening...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Best Way To Beat Post-Travel Blues...

Is to book another trip...

Firstly, let me just say it was a fantastic and surreal experience arriving back in the UK. I had a window seat as I flew over London, and my mind positively boggled at the sheer scale and the modernity of everything - cars, bridges, railways and dozens of people going about their daily lives. Getting off the plane and meeting Andrew was the best, it was like I had never been apart from him. And of course there was the sheer delight of seeing my family and friends, and having access to such luxuries as hot showers (yes!), non-stinky toilets (even better!) and unlimited supplies of tasty food that did not involve rice, curry or jackfruit.

When I arrived back I was the thinnest and brownest I'd been in a long time, though suffering from Tibetan donkey flu (a rather alarming sounding cough). It was lovely being home, but I was definitely hit by a large dose of culture shock. Many things seemed so trivial, and the sheer excess of people's lives really got to me - I felt confused about where I fitted in and where to go next. After being in Nepal and Tibet, where people have so little and where I had such fabulous experiences, there was a lot to think about. While I was happy to be back, the post-travel blues did get me for a bit, and I wasn't quite ready to settle down. And of course, everyone told me the best way to deal with those blues is to go off again...

I've now put all the weight back on (thanks in part to Mum's cooking) and am almost back to my normal colour, so a week today it will be time to jet off again! I decided that before I get ensconced in a new job, I'd do a quick 'Friendship Tour' to visit various mates around the globe. First stop Japan, the land of kimonos, Samurai, geisha, sushi (yum) and my crazy friend Rosie. Wish me luck!

So Long, & Thanks For All The Rice

It's the end of my trip, and time to go home. I can't quite believe it.

So, how has it been for me? In short, bloody fantastic. I've met some of the greatest people of my life, both Nepali and otherwise. There have been some major challenges and ups and downs, and at times it's been really tough. But it's been absolutely worth it and I've had a great time.

To summarise, here are some top things I definitely won't miss: -

8) Honking horns and barking dogs. Honestly, dogs bark SO much here, and the locals don't seem to mind. But sometimes it makes sleeping virtually impossible.

7) Classes of 45 screaming kids driving me insane. Enough said.

6) Transportation problems: I've had some very interesting experiences with travel here, from taxis with no suspension along some of the worst roads I've ever seen (outside my school for example) to holding children in my lap and being used as a public leaning post on a bus. Of particular interest was my drive back from the village trek. Not on a road, as would seem sensible, but lurching precariously down a dry river bed, threatening to fall over any second.

However, this pales into comparison compared to LangTang, where I was squashed on the back row as the bus threatened to topple over the cliff edge and I struggled to avoid the smelly sick of the vomiting woman in front of me. Then there was the occasion of the window glass shattering all over me on the way to Lumbini, and of course endless strikes. We complain about the British transportation system, but trust me - in comparison it's marvelous!

5) Eating difficulties - especially rice everyday, twice a day ...and I particularly won't miss jack fruit. Now, don't get me wrong - I really like curry. And I quite like rice. I even like Dal. But everyday, several times a day? Once a day I could deal with, twice a day was a bit much, three times a day was just freaking ridiculous. There were points when I didn't think I could carry on shoving the stuff down my neck and the thought of another meal with people staring at me just made me want to puke.

It's not that the food isn't nice, it's the repetition. Just think of your favourite meal, and seriously consider whether you could actually eat if three times a day. Trust me, it would soon lose it's novelty. And of course, there's the fact that sometimes the food makes people very ill - not pleasant, especially when combined with the next item on my list...

4) Stinky squat toilets. Now, the theory is that squat toilets are healthier for you - squatting is supposedly a better position to be in than sitting. This may be true, if the toilet isn't so rank that you can't breathe, your eyes water, your mind boggles at the sight and you might pass out in a heap of someone else's dodos.

Special mention must go to Tibet on this subject. My trusty LP says China's toilets are particularly bad, but that Tibetan loos are in a league of their own. I'm hoping anywhere else I go in the world will now seem luxurious in comparison.

3) Cold showers. Yeah, I know, maybe you think this makes me a bit of a wimp. But I'm not just talking cold showers - I'm talking freezing showers. However, this beats the times when there hasn't been any water...which is fairly often.

2) Random health issues. As well as the obvious Delhi belly issues that afflict most travellers to these parts at some points, I've had a number of strange ailments - from bizarre allergies to glass cuts all over my legs. My feet appear to have dandruff, they are so wrecked. My top illnesses have been the ridiculously bad cough I got in Tibet, and my allergy to my school.

I'm not talking a psychological allergy here... I went to the (nice but very expensive) doctors in Kathmandu. The doc took a look inside my nose and said "Your nose is so swollen I'm surprised you can still breathe...where are you living?". I told him. He said this was probably the worst place I could live, and could I go somewhere else for a bit for the benefit of my heath. I was like, "Well, I'm volunteering so it's a bit difficult". He said, "You should really try and bathe in hot water at least three times a day". I said, "I don't have hot water... sometimes I don't even have water..." you get the picture.

1) Pollution, kids crapping outside my bedroom and so on. This has seriously been one of the most distressing aspects of living in Nepal - especially the seeming reluctance of anyone (government or individual) to take responsibility or do anything about it.

And my top things I will definitely miss: -

8) The sense of freedom and not having to work. Need I say more?!

7) The peace and tranquility of places like Boudhanath, one of my favourite places, where the Buddhist stupa is.

6) The cheapness..."What do you mean a beer will set me back three quid in London?! Outrageous! I can feed a family on rice and Dal for a week with that!

5) The weather...the monsoon has actually caused virtually no problems for me, and I'm not looking forward to getting back to the cold, the rain and the wind. I am usually cold, except in Nepal!

4) The entertainment gained from Engrish and from the (sometimes blindingly obvious) cultural differences. Often things just don't seem to make sense. Why is it ritually polluting for a woman to enter the kitchen when menstruating?! Do you want to go 'treeking'? Some of my recent favourites (from Tibet) include the 'Pesteraunt' and 'Sheep Guset House'.

3) The ability to experience something totally different everyday. One day I'm playing 'Amrita Says' and singing Head, Shoulders, Knees & Toes, the next I'm visiting some amazing monastery in the hills, the next I'm trekking through the mountains or jungle. Yesterday, I had an ayurvedic massage for the first time, which was fun - a lady massaged my boobs, popped all my joints, clapped a lot and karate chopped my head!

2) The landscape... nothing quite compares to the Himalayas and having mountains all around you. The scenery in both Nepal and Tibet is awe-inspiring.

1) The people - both the locals who've been endlessly entertaining and generous (often despite having so little), and the other travellers I've met, and shared some amazing experiences with. And o course, I will miss the kids and their endless enthusiasm, funny questions and humour.

Speaking of people, I now have to go and say my goodbyes, which will be really sad. But hopefully I'll be back before too long. It may well be Never Ending Peace And Love for me...Looking forward to seeing everyone soon xox

Seven Days In Tibet...And Then Some

So, on the morning of Holly's birthday, we got up early to go and
catch our bus to Tibet... Right from the start it was clear things
weren't going to be straight forward, as our 'guide' drove on his
motorbike while we walked behind him (weird!), then we waited an hour
on the bus to go. We were going as part of a tour group, as this is
the only way to get into Tibet from Nepal...and some 'characters' were
already making their presence felt...

We drove up winding roads through Nepal on the crazy bus to the
checkpoint, where things started to seem a little insane, and I began
to wonder if Tibet was such a great idea. Money changers started
hassling us, the place was really overcrowded and there was a distinct
lack of English - the main forms of communication were miming, pushing
and grunting.

The first hurdle was that there appeared to be no visa for me, meaning
I couldn't legally be allowed into the country. It turned out my visa
had been given to an American/Hawaiian named Matt, whose name is
nothing like mine, and neither is his temperament (more on that
later). After a while I had a visa and could proceed through the first
checkpoint, where I was bemused to find the Chinese official pointing
a small green gun at me (to take my temperature...checking I didn't
have SARS, or some bizarre tropical disease?).

We then got into our Jeep, and proceeded to the next checkpoint, which
our (slightly mad?) driver drove straight through and had to be
swiftly called back! I then had my passport detained for an age, as
Chinese/Tibetan men poured over it with a magnifying glass - what were
they looking for? Do I really look that suspicious? I had hidden all
my ammo about my person, along with my class A drugs, and I'm not
currently planning any terrorist activities so I don't know what they
had to be worried about really ;-)

Finally I was released into Tibet/China, where we were first staying
in Zhangmu, relatively low down, due to construction of the roads -
this was to have a significant impact on our trip later... We stayed
in communal dorms and had Holly's birthday dinner with some nice
English folks (though of course Hol wouldn't let me tell anyone it was
her b'day!).

The next day, we got up at ridiculous o'clock (this seems to be a
theme for my travelling) and started driving up crazy steep roads
under waterfalls, over mountains and through passes. Though it was
dark when we set out, I could see the scenery was gorgeous. Holly and
I were sharing Jeep Two with the aforementioned Hawaiian Matt and
Mariane, a lovely Dutch girl, along with a driver who seems to have
split personality disorder. One moment he was happy and singing or
chuckling away to himself, the next he was getting really aggro,
making strange gestures at us and attempting to hit Matt... though I
think some people on our tour could empathise with this ;-) Our driver
spoke no English whatsoever apart from 'OK...OK...OK', which led to
some amusing and sometimes very difficult situations. You would have
thought that people who've been driving tourists for years would
understand the word toilet, without the need for dramatic
improvisations, but no - dramatic improvisations it was.

By the third day, we thought we'd have to switch drivers as the
atmosphere was so inharmonious - take one strange driver who doesn't
speak and a very enthusiastic, expressive American, put them in a car
for 12 hours at altitude and what do you get? I'm sure you can picture
the scene. But we managed to sort things out with a little patience
and understanding... It's so interesting to see how situations can
spiral out of control due to communication difficulties.

As we drove through the Himalayas and across the Tibetan plateau, we
saw some truly incredible sights. It was awe-inspiring, and no matter
what I say it's impossible to convey the sheer magnificence of it all.
There was most amazing sense of space, so beautiful and so varied too
- one minute going through mountains, the next across completely flat
land surrounded by hills, seeing sand dunes, turquoise lakes and the
brightest greens and yellows I've ever seen. And my God, the sky feels
so close! I really did feel on the roof of the world. Holly and Matt
took over the chief roles as Tibetan paparazzi, and we had a great
time in our Jeep gawping at the landscape and sharing our views with
each other.

Now, as I said, on our first night we stayed low, so on our second day
we ascended about 3000m in one day, which was way too much. At the end
of
the day, Jeep Two was definitely the centre of the action. We had stopped our
Jeep around ten minutes before our final destination, when a lorry
drove and hit
a child, which ran out in front of it. Being a doctor, Martine the Dutch girl
rushed onto the scene to fix her.

I was watching what was going on from a distance ready to intervene
and tell all the voyeuristic tourists and concerned locals to step
back and let Martine do her job. Meanwhile, Holly had disappeared off
the toilet, when I heard weak cries of "Amelia, Amelia", and turned to
see her virtually collapsed against another jeep trying not to faint
with AMS (acute mountain sickness - basically altitude sickness). I
helped her back and laid her in the car, at which point Matt got
confused and thought Martina had put the girl in our car and the
driver tried to drive off with Holly's feet hanging out of the car...
Some locals wanted to help and got into 'an animated discussion' with
Matt...but eventually we made it to the hotel (if you can call it
that) and into our dorm.

By this point, lots of people were sick with one thing or another from
the altitude, and the state of the so-called hotel didn't help
matters. Checking the shower facilities, I was a little concerned to
see a black rat with a long tale running across the floor, and even
more concerned to see that a mysterious door in our room had a rat
shaped hole in it - and our other door had no lock. Some of you may
remember my rating system for toilets in Nepal. Well, Tibet/China is
much worse - I think I may need to develop a new system especially.
The toilets at this particular hotel were pretty bad, and during our
journey many were absolute shitholes - literally. I have never seen so
many drop pits where you can see and smell every shit that has ever
been done - at least it seems that way!

But, by the third day, we were staying in pretty nice places and a lot
of people were feeling better (though it was around then that Holly
spent seven hours going to the bathroom...which we now had, attached
to our twin room - thankfully!). We started visiting monasteries and
other significant places, which was great - everywhere was so
beautiful and Tibet is like nowhere I've ever been before.

By day five, we were on the epic journey to Lhasa, and I was
distinctly under the weather with the worst sinusitis type thing you
could imagine. Well, I'm sure if you try really hard you can imagine
worse, but you see what I mean. This turned into a bronchitis type
affair and a host of other problems I'm sure you don't want to know
about... But I made it to the capital of Tibet! I did struggle through
those few days, and had to miss one excursion due to the need to lay
in bed doing nothing (I debated bed, or yet another monastery, and
it's not hard to guess which one won). It's difficult to get better at
altitude as your body is working so much more just to let you walk
around and do things.

So, the night I missed the excursion, I wasn't feeling well. I decided
maybe I'd better try and find some medicine. So I asked the lady at
reception. She doesn't speak English, so she rang one of the Tibetan
security-types. He came in, and misunderstood me as I explained, "I
want to go to a pharmacy to get some medicine". He had a long
conversation with the receptionist, then said "no message". I was like
"no, not message, medicine" and mimed coughing, which of course
spurred a real coughing fit! At which point he understood, tried to
explain where to go, and then decided to take me himself.

Off we went, picking up another man on the way. Why? All will become
clear! Eventually, we got to the pharmacy, where I did some elaborate
mimes, and spoke to the Tibetan guy in English. Who spoke to the other
man in Tibetan. Who spoke to the pharmacist in Mandarin. Who spoke to
the other man in Mandarin. Who spoke to the Tibetan guy in Tibetan.
Who spoke to me in English. So, the pharmacist spoke Chinese not
Tibetan, the other man spoke Mandarin and Tibetan but not English, the
Tibetan spoke Tibetan and English but not Mandarin. And then there was
me. Wacko! It was a very funny situation, especially as they kept
showing me pills with no English on and having detailed discussions
about my ailments which I couldn't understand. Eventually I plumped
for some acute bronchitis medication (which tastes vile, just in case
you're interested).

Despite the difficulties, my overriding impression of Tibet is really
positive. Seeing all these amazing monasteries and witnessing a life
that is so different is just incredible. Visiting the Potala (where
the Dalai Lamas lived until exiled) and watching monks and pilgrims
make their circuits around the Jokhang has been great. As I said
before, the landscape is awesome. And despite my initial reservations,
by and large the people have been nice.

There have also been some very amusing incidents here too. I will
never forget Holly doing impressions of a Chinese calculator to the
market stall keeper in the Barkhor ("NeeNongNAOOO...PingPong"). I
should explain that calculators here talk out loud, and are hilarious.
Holly purchased her own, then entertained everyone for hours when she
worked out that zero is "willy" and one of the other keys sounds like
"shit". "Willy willy shit willy shit shit" went Holly and her
calculator. We also got a lot of laughs from the 'special orange
juice', which is a bit like tuna surprise. Just as tuna surprise has
no tuna in, special orange juice is in fact not orange juice - but
watermelon and pear! Spanish and Irish guys stealing rickshaws and
Lhasa beer in Lhasa were some other highlights (I think beer at
altitude is always going to have an element of extra amusement).

On a different note, yesterday I had a great day walking with Samm (new
Aussie friend, crazy chick, bad influence ;-) ) around old Lhasa,
which gave me a totally different perspective on the city. We wandered
into a monastery, where there were no people aside from a few monks.
One monk was singing so beautifully I wanted to cry, and just stood
there for ages with my eyes shut. Then a particularly jovial monk
decided to show us round and wanted photos with us! It was a really
special experience, very different to being part of a tour group.

We also enjoyed taking momos with the locals, choosing Chinese sweets
in the market, staring at yak corpses with the hair still attached
(appetising), watching noodles being made at the noodle factory, being
laughed at (a lot... we were the only tourists all day!) and getting
lost in the Muslim quarter. Samm got obsessed with singing bowls, and everytime I lost her I would find her by the sound of yet another bowl ringing in the distance. Tomorrow we're off to the highest salt
water lake in the world...

Amrita & The Flashing Temple

Over the last week or so, Amrita's celebrity has continued.

 

I left my last blog set to visit a different school, where my friend Raj has placed 30 students - 18 orphans and 12 from very poor families. Immediately after I arrived, I felt like I was surrounded by paparazzi as the head teacher started taking a million photos of me receiving flowers and scarves from the little children, some of whom had been rescued from a life of glue sniffing on the streets to get an education. My friend formed an agreement to get them all through school at reduced cost, and now they are doing so well and have homes too.

 

The school was SO cute and the kids were so well behaved - much smaller classes than mine and not quite the same atmosphere of mayhem! I gave a donation of materials and presented all the teachers with resources, which were much appreciated  (some largely thanks to those of you who have sent stuff). Back at my own school outside the city, my fan club increased throughout the week, with kids knocking at my door and wanting to hold my hand - and on numerous occasions I've been asked for my autograph! Among the adults, I feel like I have minders - "What are you doing? Where were you last night? It's not safe to be out at night!".

 

The culmination of my celebrity took place over my birthday celebrations. Like the Queen, I decided to have more than one day's festivities - in fact, to have as many as possible (I expect to have some belated parties when I get back to the UK too ;-) ). On Friday night, I went for an awesome dinner with Raj and his wife Mita, where we drank wine and sang to Bonjovi (oh the nostalgia) and ate gorgeous Indian food (they are Indian Buddhists). I felt like a teenager again, ringing the school to say I was going to be back at 10pm (! I definitely won't miss having curfews!).

 

Then it was time for my final full day in school (Saturday). Throughout the morning as I was packing my belongings, kids knocked on my door asking me for supplies and saying, "Miss, please come to class soon!". After lunch and witnessing some arguments as the kids plotted something (kids are all the same in this respect!), I was duly summoned to the younger ones' homework classroom. I was greeted by a very enthusiastic rendition of Happy Birthday To You, in a room decorated with balloons and homemade decorations. The festivities continued as I took the children to downstairs and taught them the Hokey Cokey. The girls wowed me with Nepali dance demonstrations, while the boys played a highly intense game of Snap.

 

That evening was the highlight of the school's social calendar - Amrita's Birthday Party. I had prearranged to give the hostel children the night off homework, and has prepared some games for us to play. The kids sat in two circles, and we played pass the parcel with Nepali music, forfeits and prizes. This was greeted with enormous enthusiasm, and before long most of the school staff were in the room watching or joining in. Playing musical statues with everyone joining in has to be one of the most hilarious experiences I've had here - imagine tiny kids, teenagers and grown adults jumping around and dancing enthusiastically in Nepali/Indian style, then attempting to stand still for ages...

 

After this, I presented the children with one gift each (top marks to Caroline and Margs for your koalas and Aussie pencils!). I also received an array of interesting and highly amusing presents and cards. As you'd expect, I got a fair few handmade cards, which were all very sweet, and some bought ones too (some wishing me a Happy New Year, some Happy Dashain etc!). I received an 'I love you' card from three of the older boys, which played Fur Elise, a green and silver wind chime, plenty of fake (and some real) flowers, notebooks, pens and models saying 'Best Teacher' (woohoo!). I have two contenders for most hideous present. Don't get me wrong - I was immensely flattered and touched that the kids had gone to such an effort, and after so long volunteering I really did feel appreciated.

 

But two gifts really deserve special mention. Firstly, I was the lucky recipient of a windmill with teddy bears going round in a Ferris Wheel - I kid you not. Secondly, I received a flashing plastic temple, which plays Fur Elise. Truly kitsch - my Dad will love it ;-) So what's with the Fur Elise theme? Do these kids know that when I was younger, I used to play that particular Beethoven classic over and over again, must to the frustration of my parents? I also used to have a pink plastic comb that I used to use in school, must to the frustration of my teachers. See a theme here?! Who will I frustrate with my latest acquisitions...? Who knows when they'll turn up - watch out at Christmas and on your birthday!

 

By my actual birthday (July 1st), it was time to say goodbye to everyone at the school. Staff gave me presents - notebooks, books, jewellery etc. I certainly didn't need to worry that I would feel alone on the day. I visited all the classes I had taught to say goodbye - I've never had Happy Birthday sung to me so many times! After changing out of my sari for the last time here and eating one last 'tiffin', I got a taxi into town. A short while later, the lovely Holly turned up, all the way from Madrid, to celebrate with me in Kathmandu. Some steak and cocktails were consumed, and we're off to Tibet tomorrow. May the fun continue!

A Monkey Crapped On The Table, & Other Tales From School

Amrita Miss is Back and the world of Manakamana School has gone insane.

I've been at school again for just over a week, and I feel like a celebrity. Everywhere I go, people seem to want a piece of me, to give me things and to spend time with me. My room is filled with an array of paper sculptures and other random gifts from students and teachers alike. When I step out of the door, I'm greeted with a million "Hello Miss", "Good morning Mam", "You come in our class Miss" and "AMRITAAAAAAAA". When I enter a (class)room everyone screams and claps and can't contain their excitement. Some of the teachers have even been ringing me at 7am in the morning when I have been with my friends and hungover (nowhere near school, I hasten to add) - "Where are you? What are you doing? Why aren't you here? Come to see us! What do you mean you have a life outside school?!".

I'm even getting fan mail - yesterday I got a note from a student which said "To Amrita Mam. I LOVE YOU. You are very beautiful and clean". It was the clean bit that really got to me. Every day I'm busy with some extra curricular activity - visiting teacher's houses, going to monasteries, meeting Nepali friends, seeing other volunteers - there's a constant stream of invitations and new things to do. It's great, but a bit exhausting - at this rate I'll be totally knackered by the time I leave school on my birthday!

While I've been away, a few changes have taken place. Some new teachers have arrived, along with new resources, identity cards and musical instruments - progress indeed. The dreaded jack fruit is now out of season (Yes!) and I am now sampling delights such as mango pickle and pumpkin curry. Instead of getting comments such as "you so white", I am getting "your face is changed - darker". Two amazingly cute puppies have arrived in school - they are just adorable. One of my pupils has broken her arm, and one of my favourite kids had his appendix out. It's all go!.

But special mention must go to the monkeys. Now, they have been monkeying around the school since I arrived, cruising past the classrooms and so on. But lately, they seem to have become cocky little b*&%ards - I have to be careful to close my bedroom door in case they steal my underwear. The other day, the librarian was chatting with the computer science teacher, in fits of giggles. They explained to me that, "a monkey came into the library, destroyed all the art materials and left a stool on the table". Nothing that exciting or monkey-related ever happened like that in my school, more's the pity.

Like the monkeys, the kids are still wreaking havoc. As enthusiastic and boisterous as ever, they are both the greatest aspect of being here and the hardest. I was very much in two minds about coming back to school, especially as it meant missing out on other trips. But I have to say it has been so much easier the second time round, and I've actually really enjoyed it. Obviously there are still challenges, but I'm on the home straight now and feel much better equipped to deal with whatever comes my way.

Yesterday, I was teaching Class 3B Old MacDonald Had A Farm. They are so cute singing it, but they just can't get the rhythm right for the "with a ... ... here and a ... ... there"! Anyway, one little boy told me he knew an English song. On first try he forgot the words, but came back and sang it so beautifully - it was really touching. I've been encouraging the older kids to be a little more creative by running lessons on magazine writing or marketing - where they have to come up with a little a product, name, slogan etc - and they absolutely love it! It is these kind of experiences that make me glad I didn't just go and be a tourist for a few more weeks, tempting as that was before.

I've also been working with some of the teachers on some "new ideas and new ways of doing things". It's odd, because I've had no teacher training, but when I showed the Head of English some of the things I've done, he said "Ahh, yes, we were taught these techniques in teaching school - but we don't apply them". And I'm like "why not?". He's like, "I don't really know...it's difficult, the way of teaching is so different. but we do want to make changes". It's just so hard to break the mold here. I have made tons of suggestions for lessons, teacher training and encouraging English speaking. At the moment, everyone is really enthusiastic - but it's hard to know what will happen when I leave. Still, we can but try to make a difference! I'm off to go and visit a school for orphans now, so until next time...x

An Elephant Snotted On Me, & Other Tales From the Jungle

So, after a week or so of delays (due to, you've guessed it, yet more strikes) and some boozing and livin' it up in the city, the Cultural Destination Nepal volunteers went off for our final 'group outing'. We drove west out of the city to the Trisuli river, eyeing up the waves with keen interest (it was the same river Mountaineer Schiller and I had walked by in Langtang National Park). We were all set to go white water rafting, another one to add to the so-called 'extreme sports' list.

 

By mid-morning, we had donned life jackets and were sitting in the raft, our feet wedged in, cruising down the river and cresting the waves. It was good fun, peddling through the water, getting splashed in the face, but all seemed relatively tame until we stopped on a beach for lunch. After that the real fun started as we got tossed about all over the place and got ridiculously wet!

 

We stopped by the side of the river so our guides could check out the waves round the corner... they gave the thumbs up, so off we went. And my god, the waves were massive! We paddled furiously through the spray, up and down, as our guide yelled "forward, forward, harder, harder!". I could feel the adrenalin pumping through my veins as I strode forward and tried not to fall out.

 

When we got to the end of the waves, we high-fived with our paddles and our guide told us we had just done a grade six rapid! No wonder it felt difficult! He also said if we had capsized, we could have hit a massive rock and died. Something they don't tell you before you do it, or mention in the guidebooks! The cheeky (and quite hunky) Nepali guy next to me decided I was a target, threw a bucket of water over me, before pushing me into the river and all hell broke lose. It was great, floating through the valley and being carried along by the tide.

 

We docked on the beach, ready to move on to our next destination. Except we couldn't due to... yet another strike! So we had an impromptu camping session on the beach, under the stars by the river. Sounds quite romantic, except it was bug-infested, stinking hot, there weren't enough tents and we were totally unprepared (bound as we were for our luxury lodge!). But still, seeing the stars and listening to the river was great, and we made the best of it.

 

Next on the list was Chitwan National Park, a large jungle/park famed for its wildlife. As there was no public transport, we ended up going with the crazy Nepali that had pushed me in the water the day before, in his big, insanely decorated oil truck - another interesting form of transport...

 

Nepal is made up of three regions defined by its topographical changes. In the north are the Himalayas, in the middle the hills with the Mahabharat range and the Churia hills and in the south is the Terai, with flatter forested areas. Chitwan was my first proper visit to the Terai, and it was HOT! I was mega excited (not for the first time in this country), because we would be going elephant riding - and I freaking love elephants!

 

That first day, we delighted in out luxury accommodation and took pleasure in cleaning the rafting and camping skuzz from our clothes and bodies. After gorging ourselves on tasty food, it was time to visit the elephants for the first time. But more on elephants later... We went to the local museum and sat drinking cocktails watching the sun set over the river. This was followed by a 'cultural performance', where men dressed as women and danced with sticks - as you do...

 

After a beer-fueled night we awoke at 5.30am (that's late by Nepali standards) and bleary-eyed got up to canoe down the river. We saw peacocks, monkeys and crocodiles to name just a few species. Next it was time for an early morning 'nature walk', jumping over puddles and looking out for wild beasts. We successfully tracked rhino footprints and big heaps of still steaming poo to find the rare great one-horned rhinoceros going about his business in the Jungle.

 

It was then time to visit the elephant breeding centre. Baby elephants are so sweet, I was in elephant heaven! So, there I was feeding cute little baby ele, when cute little baby ele decided to blow down its nose at me. And even baby elephants have big noses, in case you hadn't noticed. I looked down at my shirt (practically the only clean thing I had left to wear after the rafting/skanky camping expedition) and it was covered in a slimy substance, which bizarrely enough, resembled curry - a huge clump of elephant snot! Bet you never knew elephant snot was like curry. But then again, perhaps it's just Nepalese elephants. Anyway...

 

Next on the list was elephant bathing. Now, in theory this all sounds rather lovely - plodding down to the river to give ol' ele' a nice bath, bubbles and radox, that kind of thing. In reality it was rather different - though absolutely wicked! Once we were clad in our swimming togs, our ele came to pick us up - literally. We clambered onto her from a special elephant boarding platform (no kidding) and three of us rode her bareback to the water.

 

Now, I really love elephants. But this particular ride has to be one of the most painful journeys I've had - and there have been some pretty painful ones in this country! I literally felt like I had elephant bone going up my arse - one tip, never go as the third person on an Asian elephant. Being at the front or the middle is much more comfortable, as I later discovered.

 

Ele then repeatedly threw us off into the water, squirting us with her trunk. Very good fun, but quite painful at times - some friction burns! I have concluded that there are few more inelegant (inelephant?) things than getting stuck halfway up an elephant's head, dripping wet and in fits of laughter.

 

After scrubbing ele with a stone, it was time for the ride back. We had been warned our guide was new, and I was concerned when our elephant seemed to embark on a race with the one further ahead - being at the front of a galloping elephant is a bit scary! But fortunately we all survived to tell the tale.

 

In the afternoon, we had another elephant ride - this time in a box-type contraption, so slightly more comfy and sedate. We went through the jungle in the rain, spotting deer and other animals, while our guide tried to terrify Julie with bugs and shouting "tiger tiger", yet pointing to a tree, and 'eeee-snake' but pointing to a stick. All good fun in the jungle.

 

The next day, it was time for me to undertake my own personal pilgrimage to Lumbini, birthplace of the Buddha. Despite a window exploding all over me on the way (my second window-related incident on this trip), I had a great time there, and was pretty much the only tourist in the whole place (I didn't see a single white person). I explored the old village, contemplated my existence in the Sacred Garden and visited various temples built by Buddhist nations from all over the world. It was then time for another long bus journey, this time back to Kathmandu, in preparation for my last bout of teaching...wish me luck!

 

 

A Yak Banged Me, & Other Tales From The Himalayas

At 5.30 in the morning, Mountaineer Bate and Mountaineer Schiller left
Kathmandu to catch the bus to Dhunche for the start of the Langtang
trek. We were sleepy but excited to leave the smoggy city, had just
settled on the bus, the engine was running and we were ready to go. At
this point, we were kicked off due to a seemingly impromptu bus
strike! Strikes seem to affect every business in Nepal - crazy.

After this false start, we successfully set off the next day, bound
for the mountains. After a bone shattering eight hour bus ride, we
ended up at Dhunche at the cutest little bright blue hotel looking
towards mountains in the distance - as Mountaineer Schiller said, the
place ranked high on the 'cute-ometer', and provided a benchmark for
the many other endearing villages we were to stay in over the coming
days.

The next day, we started walking. "Mathi, Mathi" (up, up), shouted our
porter-cum-guide Pasang Sherpa, who was shouldering most of our load
for the ten days we'd be staying in the Langtang National Park. Due to
his humour, nimbleness and physical attributes, we soon nicknamed him
Jackie Chan. He didn't speak much English, and had a maddening habit
of saying "yes" to everything. "Are we going that way?", I'd say,
pointing. "Yes", said Jackie, promptly turning in the opposite
direction. "What are the signs on the wall". "Yes, signs on the wall"
- well, I know that... "Is it this one or this one?". You've guessed
it - "Yes" - even when we asked two opposite questions. To be fair, he
did try "no" out a few times, with equally lack of sense! But he was
sweet, and got us there, which is the main thing.

At our first proper glimpse of snowy peaks, I became like an excited
child. "They're so big, and there are so many", I exclaimed. You don't
say - it was the Himalayas after all. But knowing this only added to
my pleasure, and I kept stopping to gawp as they drew increasingly
nearer. This may sound cheesy, but honestly it was incredible - as we
started walking between snow capped mountains, I genuinely couldn't
believe how big they were, and that I was actually there, dwarfed by
them towering above me. The higher we got, the more Buddhist chortens
(little towers of stones) and walls of Sanskrit we passed, making sure
to go round everything in a clockwise fashion. It really did feel as
if we were inching close to the top of the earth.

I felt such a sense of freedom - even more so than on the village
trek. As it was the very end of the season, we practically had the
park to ourselves, which was a real privilege. For the first three
days we saw no one other than a handful of porters carrying heavy
loads (they lug so much up the hill on their backs, it's insane -
everything you can imagine, from chickens to massive bags of cement)
and some increasingly hairy cows... Now, from my extensive research I
can tell you that most yaks are not in fact purebred yaks, but a
mixture of yaks and cows. The higher you get, the hairier they get -
and hence the more yak-like, or 'yaktastic'. But a female yak (a
purebred, no less) is actually called a nak. But most tourists can't
tell the difference between these yaks, naks and yak-wannabes, and
refer to them all as yaks. Bet you didn't know that.

By the end of our trip we had invented many different yak words and
had sampled many yak products. I can verily report that yak cheese is
yakorific, yak milk is OK, but hot water that has been contained in a
flask that previously had yak milk in is definitely not yakalicious -
in fact, it is exyakly gross. Mountaineer Schiller had a similar
report for Yak butter, which I strategically avoided in favour of
chocolate pancakes.

One of the more exciting yak anecdotes was when a yak, laden with
supplies for the villages, banged me. When I say banged me, I don't
mean "like that" - those of you with rude minds... But it did bump
into me, though not deliberately, and I did end up a little bruised!
Mountaineers Schiller and Bate also melted at the sight of baby yaks
(seriously cute) and at yaks wearing red tassel-like earrings. You
definitely don't see that everyday.

Anyway, back to the important points of this story... After four days
of walking, we arrived at Kenzing Gompa, a small, gorgeous village
nestled between peaks on all sides. A Gompa is a Buddhist Monastery,
and there was one perched on the hills above us. We stayed at the
Lovely View Hotel, which was at the highest altitude we'd sleep at
(and to use Jackie's favourite word yes, the view was lovely). It was
right on the edge of the village, closest to the foot of the
mountains. I remember seeing a 'Hotel at the End of the Universe' in
Nargarkot, but I felt this name could have applied to where we were
staying now. I felt so small as the peaks towered above me, an
insignificant spec among the magnitude.

At this altitude (around 3500m), it was harder to breathe, and it was
considerably colder. "It's like the Arctic or something", said
Mountaineer Schiller, dolled up in an attractive array of thermal
underwear covered with cut off pants and long sock and a woolly hat.
"Well, it is the Himalayas", I pointed out. We were blessed with
gorgeous weather - despite the approaching monsoon, we never got
rained on and had fantastically clear views. At night however, the
clouds rolled in, it went pitch black and you could feel the
temperature drop dramatically as soon as the sun went over the
mountains. I was grateful for my thermal undies and for the many cups
of milk tea Jackie brought us as we huddled in our sleeping bags.
After dinner, we'd sit by the stove that was burning wood and yak dung
(yep, it's those yaks again) in the main room of the lodge, playing
cards and talking rubbish. No change there then, at least on the
talking front!

Compared to our last trek this was five star. In most places, we had
hot showers, pillows and A CHOICE of food! This was a great change to
Dal baht. The only thing was, everything was carbohydrates - you could
have noodle soup, chowmein, rice, pancake, bread, momos or the
disturbingly titled "cream of packet soup". Appetizing! We also
uncovered some delicacies though, such as hearty Sherpa Stew Soup,
Snickers Momo and some seriously good apple pie (one day I ate a whole
one for breakfast).

After a fitful night's sleep (possibly due to the altitude, or in my
case, excitement), we got up early for a serious hike uphill to get to
Kenzing Peak. This was not the peak we were supposed to be going for
(don't ask, or I will positively RANT due to Jackie's
incompetence...but I'm determined this slight issue won't dent my
memories of what was an absolutely amazing experience). Jackie carried
our day bags, and we strode (when I say strode, what I mean is kind of
staggered as fast as we could in the altitude) pretty much straight
up. A short way up, Mountaineer Schiller turned to me, looking a
little green and breathy, and said "I think I'm mildly afraid of
heights". "Not a great trait in a mountaineer", I thought to myself,
but kept quiet, only frightening her every now and again by standing
on rocks near the edge as she sat down and clung onto the mountain for
dear life! But to her absolute credit, she didn't give up, and neither
did Horatio and Hercules, our loyal hiking sticks.

Up and up we went, over hills and along ridges (I've never seen anyone
move so gingerly as Mountaineer Schiller), when suddenly, the summit
was in sight! Woohoo! Over the edge we came, to be greeted with prayer
flags blowing in the wind and chortens blessing the top. We had truly
spectacular views all around, and some good laughs as we admired them
- I felt so lucky to get the chance to have this experience. I'm not a
particularly religious person, but I do think I have a spiritual side.
Standing up there I felt close to some higher being, and very aware of
the power of nature. It was one of the best things I've ever done - a
definite 'high' for this trip.