Wednesday 29 July 2015


  Egypt....Cairo; So Much To Offer, Just Be Careful

 

    I am not sure how I can keep a reader interested when I talk about my experience in Egypt. I did not have a near death experience (not really) but I am pretty sure that some of my activities were not common place to the tourist that visits the pyramids. I would say I came away from this visit more satisfied than from many other countries that I have visited. So without this posting being a history lesson I would like to share what I learned and how I felt while traveling through the capital of this nation that consists of 90% Muslim.

   Not everything goes as planned when one is traveling; usually there are some "what if" moments.  On the way to Cairo I missed an opportunity for some incredible photo's from my window seat of the airplane. Flying north from Kenya I took so many photo's of the landscape, particularly the Nile (Egypt's lifeline) as it snakes up through the desert. By the time we flew over Cairo I did not have any film left so I missed the chance to catch the Giza Pyramids and the rest of the Cairo skyline (for the next 3 weeks the sky would not be that clear). When I arrived at customs there was a problem with my passport ( details in a future Kenya post) and I could not use my credit card to get money for the entrance visa because there was only an ATM machine. A policeman convinced the worker at the money ex-changer to take 200 Egyptian Pounds from the credit card, enough for my visa and hotel.

   Back to the flight and the Nile River. The Sahara Desert cuts across Africa from the west to the east; it takes on many names, depending on where it is. There are a few deserts around Egypt but the one I was viewing out of the airplane was the Western Desert; close to the Libya Desert. On both sides of the Nile there is lush green agricultural land that supplies most of the fruits and vegetables for Cairo's population of 16 million (at that time).

   My first full day in Cairo was spent in part at the world famous Cairo Museum. This institution is huge; many people use a guide but I prefer to walk  around at my own speed. I was awestruck with some of the artifacts that are displayed, many are recovered from pyramids. There are sections with preserved mummies; ancient jewelry, stoneware, calligraphy; you name it, anything ancient and Egyptian. I am not really a museum person but this place is a must see. I finished the day eating at the rotating Cairo Tower; unlike the day before the air was smoggy so there were no good views. I found the locals friendly, they have some tricks for trying to get money (tips) from tourists but if you are privy to that behaviour then you would find them harmless.






 

 The next day I took two local buses to get to the Giza Pyramids (the world's oldest tourist attraction), they looked awesome. It is a bit like a fairy tale when you can meander through the streets of a city and then when you turn a corner there are ancient pyramids. The first instance of me realizing that I was not dreaming was when I started to get pestered by locals on camels and people selling at the site. The experience was fantastic regardless of the constant hassle from these people trying to make a living. I tried to cover every square inch of the grounds and just sort of "take it all in." I walked down and then up a large sand dune where there was a police station with many officers sitting outside playing cards. When they spotted me coming over the dune one of them stood up and said "no, no, no, you are not allowed up here; so I turned around. I went in to the Pyramid of Khufu, which is the largest at Giza, and climbed high in a cavern to a tomb with a stone coffin. There was also a narrow section that went very far down below the entrance; this pyramid alone was amazing. I also went into the Khafre and Menkaure pyramids before wandering over and checking out the Sphinx; I was in my glory on this day and took many photo's.










   From Giza I worked hard to get familiar with the subway system and made it over to Old Cairo, I had walked so far on this day. I just walked around to get familiar, it seemed like those citizens that were not selling were very sociable. I took many photo's of people, like the 3 different vendors riding a pony that was pulling a cart loaded with fruit. I had mentioned earlier that I did not have a life threatening experience BUT.......











   After relaxing a bit from my excessive workout day I decided that I would go out that night; it was not safe in Tanzania or Kenya to go out after dark (even for locals) so I figured I would leave my 150 year old hotel room and go to a club. Turns out that the clubs open at about 11pm or 12, it is usually a feat for me to stay up until 10pm. I could not believe how many families were out on the streets at midnight with their small children, no wonder the streets are empty at 6am.

   The traffic is so chaotic in big cities like Cairo and it is not safe for people to cross the street. I was on day 3 of watching mothers run with their children across 2 lanes then stop as cars go by and then they jump another lane as they play Russian Roulette to get across the busy streets. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would be hit by a car, that is what happened. I ran across a couple of lanes, stopped, waited and when the next lane was clear I made my move only to have a car pull out from behind another car in the second lane to pass. He saw me and hit the brakes, and me. I was knocked off of my feet; luckily I jumped just before he hit me so I only sustained a sore ankle and a tender hip. If my legs had remained planted on the ground they may have been broken. I have seen pedestrians hit in other populous cities but I never thought on this day that it would be me. I was quite sore for a few days and had to limp around but thankfully it was nothing serious.

















Tuesday 28 July 2015


  Australia.............Back When Hitching Was The Way to Go, Most Of The Time

   In the mid-80's I hitched around Australia....not just all the way around the country but down to Alice Springs and to inland places like Lightening Ridge (800 kms one way, west of Brisbane). Hitching (hitch hiking)is a great way to meet new people. Most often a very sociable driver will stop to give you a ride and at times that driver can end up to be a life long friend. I hitched over 20,000 kms in Australia, my longest ride was across the Nullarbor Plain which was about 1,600 kms. If you have read any of my other blogs you might guess that I have a story to tell about my standing by the roadside with my thumb out.

   I had just left Darwin, Northern Territory and made it down to Katherine, about 300 kms south; that's where I slept. I heard of a horrific act of violence on the news. Seems that a sick guy abducted and killed a family that was travelling in their camper and he was on the lose somewhere in the Northern Territory. I got one or two rides west of Katherine (on the way to Broome) and was standing at the roadside hitching when a police car pulled up. From a distance the policeman asked me to step away from my bag. It was from the back seat of this police car that I found out that I matched the description of the German assailant that killed the family. Once I was cleared (Canadian voice eh)  I was released and told to be careful since I matched the suspects appearance. I guessed he was short, bald, and had a bad complexion.

   There was so much police presence in this otherwise barren land, the area swarmed with law enforcement, each police car stopped until they knew I was the Canadian guy. I would sit in 2 other police cars the next day and began to wonder if there was any worse time or place to hitch; Tennant Creek is particularly bad.

                   


                    


                    


     On the next day I thought I would put on my best clothes (a white shirt and light trousers) so that I might look a bit more appealing to drivers. Four army tanks were slowly approaching on the horizon, I was walking and ready to stick out my thumb IF a car approached (not many cars on this stretch of road). The army tanks were upon me and each one had a guy standing up out of the hole. The one soldier said "Hey Mate, blimey, what are you doing way out here ? Come on then get in." I hopped up on the tank, threw my pack to the guy below that was calling for it and jumped down into the tank.

                          

 I quickly sat down before I noticed how greasy the chair was, actually most all of the inside of the tank was like a mechanics workshop. About one km. down the road the tank broke down and I got out. The soldiers joked about the poor state of their tanks and set in to repairing the machine. I started walking and assessing the damage to my clothes, there was so much grease on my best duds. My legs were itchy; probably my pours were open with the extreme heat, just a sucking that grease in.

  A couple of days later the murderer was shot and killed when he had a shootout with the police in a helicopter. When a person is hitching such a long way the last thing she/he would need is to look like a suspected criminal. A day after leaving the town of Broome I got a ride from Bill who was heading part way down the coast towards Perth. He had asked me to take some photo's out of the window because when he made the drive he had never done so (it was his normal route to Aboriginal Missions). When I did get to Perth I checked the general delivery at the post office and there was an envelope from Bill with the developed photo's; very nice scenery, very nice guy.

                       


                      


                      

   I have many hitch hiking stories but I thought I would finish with a list some of the places that I slept while on the long journey like the one around Australia: friends bedroom, living room, laundry room, study, sewing room, couch, and floor. I've slept in a tent, old truck, graveyard, golf course, hostel, hotel, lodge, resort, airport, shed, hut, bush, field, water drain, cave, beach, truck, water house, demolished building, stairwell, and on my feet. When you are hitching you always know where you are starting from (obvious) but you never know where you will end up.
















Sunday 26 July 2015


   Mt Kilimanjaro....The Highest Peak in Africa

  Anyone who has walked the streets of Arusha, Tanzania has been witness to the locals calling out "Kilimanjaro..Safari"; these two nearby attractions are the main source of tourist dollars coming into the city. At 5,896m Kilimanjaro is high but not so high that one must be an expert, like Mt Everest. While hundreds of people ascend the mountain without major problems, many climb too quickly and suffer from altitude sickness; about 10 people each year die on the mountain.

     I arrived in Kenya and headed right to Arusha, Tanzania at the foot of Mt Meru; my main goals, like so many, were to climb the mountain and go on a safari. I found a room ( $38 US per night) that was on the outskirts of the downtown. In the morning I walked to town taking in the local scenery, there were many dwellings of poor residents, so many people were walking on the dusty streets (walking is free). Once downtown I quickly found that the travel agents at shops had a common theme; no exact price for excursions. Many times a man would bring out a calculator; rather than having a standard price for a specific trip package. The first time a man was willing to lower the price when "I wanted to think about it" I figured I was in the wild west of bartering. I did not find a reliable company so I walked back to the hotel. I was passed by 3 different wedding processions that had a pick-up truck filled with a brass band that was playing a song, it was kind of neat. Walking among the locals made me feel.... well, that I was in Africa.



   I ended up booking a climbing trek for Kilimanjaro at $820.00 US plus tips. One needs to have a guide, at least one porter and a permit to enter the park. Hans Meyer was the first European to climb the mountain in 1889. The night before I left for the climb I had problems with my stomach, yet again; guys out the back were drinking and then arguing; and that was before the 5am mosque chanting. At the main gate the ranger wanted me to take 4 porters; after some discussion I was able to take just 2 and the guide; I would take my own pack. Off we went to the first Mandara Hut which has an elevation of 2,720 metres (8,704 ft.). We made very good time and I was sweaty carrying my bags, until the heavy rain started; the trail was very muddy. It was very cool at the first hut and I could already feel a difference with the altitude. I hoped that going slower for the 11 kms the next day would help me acclimatize.


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   The morning at Mandara was cool; the two porters were already boiling water for washing and cooking. Each porter has a 20 kg regulation for carrying supplies, years earlier they were expected to carry 40 kgs (88 lbs). On the first day we saw blue monkey's, this day we saw several alpine birds. The 1,000 metre climb was easy enough, there was some nice alpine scenery when the clouds cleared, I could see the peak of the mountain. The Horombo Camp was very cold and it started to rain, a bit like wet snow. The camp sits at an elevation of 3,720 metres ( 11,904 ft.) and I was starting to feel a little light headed. I had to focus more on my breathing; again the climbing on the second day was easy enough, it was the lower oxygen levels that was giving me problems. The ranger had said that 6 of 10 make it up no problem and 4 of 10 have problems with the altitude. We passed a Korean man that was getting wheeled down the mountain in what looked like a wheel barrow stretcher. Once you get sick you must descend the mountain quickly. The next camp was supposed to be freezing with the summit sitting at about -15 degrees.






























   I tossed and turned through the night, my down sleeping bag was not warm enough. Once I was outside the hut the sunrise was nice and I had a good view of the peaks. I noticed when breathing that I had to gasp through my mouth a couple of times, but the focus quickly changed to the climb. The day started off with very nice scenery; actually I got many fabulous photo's, but again, I could feel that I was light headed. As the day went on I felt hungover and a bit of a pain in my head. I walked slowly and drank a lot of water but it did not help. By the time I got to the Kibo Hut with an elevation of 4,700 metres (15,040 ft) my head was just throbbing. There was a US doctor at the hut who was traveling with another company; he was self medicating and had 2 pain killers. He said if the pills did not clear up my head then the problem was guaranteed to be altitude sickness and I would have to go down.











    I was so frustrated, the top was only 1,000 metres more; reaching a higher elevation than base camp for Everest was not going to be a reality. From the Kibo Hut hikers leave at about 3 or 4 am to reach the summit; and usually only stay for about 15 minutes. Someone had died a couple of weeks previous so ignoring my headache was not an option.



    I headed back down to the Horombo Camp so quickly; although the temperature was warmer it was still frigid and hard to sleep. In the morning I talked to an Aussie couple and 3 Chinese who had made it up, they said a German man was brought down on a stretcher. I practically ran the whole way down to the main gate; my legs were sore from the downward pounding. There was an animal that jumped out of the bush, it looked a bit like a coyote; Sabah the guide swung at it with a pan, he said that it would bite. I had 4 loud pops from my ears that substantially cleared the pressure from my head, I felt the relief immediately.

   I had planned to give my sleeping bag to a child outside the gate; the first two kids asked me for money so I bypassed them and give it to a young girl who was standing by the road. We loaded in a vehicle and headed 2 hours west to Arusha.

   In my journal I wrote "the mountain beat me". I proved by running most of the way down and walking over 30 kms to the top hut that I was fit enough; I just could not control my head, unless I used it. If I would have planned a bit better and really thought about acclimatizing myself for the altitude then I would not have hurried to make good time. I should have stayed an extra day at the Horombo Camp.....taking a little venture up about 500 metres and coming back down to the camp so I could get used to the elevation. What I do know is that I am not in a hurry to feel altitude sickness.






























Saturday 25 July 2015


  Rome ( Roma).....When in Rome, Do As The Romans Do

   I am not fond of cities but we have a few 'must see cities' in the world and Rome is one of them. There are no fewer than 60 historic buildings or monuments that span this hospitable metropolis; this is why the streets are filled with tourists, some standing on a corner with the tourist map opened. There seemed to be little pestering of the tourists as I saw in places like Cairo so that makes for a relaxing atmosphere. You might want to be cautious of your hotel choice; many times the quite alley behind the hotel transitions into a late night eatery with wine and music.
 
  I got into Rome from the airport late and most hotels I checked were full so I had a lot of walking with my backpack until I found an available room. In the morning I headed out for a day of extraordinary site seeing, I was in my glory. My first stop was at the Basilica Di S.Maria Degli Angeli E Martiri, it was incredible. From the outside the structure looked dilapidated but once inside the wall and ceiling paintings, along with the sculptures made for a photo frenzy. I moved on to the Fontana Di Trevi (fountain) and then to the Piazza Campidogio which led to A Vittorio Emanuele Monument. From the monument, which was magnificent, I could see a panoramic view of Rome. I finished my day at the Colosseo ( Roman Colliseam ), for 11 Euros the admission was so worth it  This experience was so memorable that I still feel excitement when I read my journal.
 
   Rome is easy to navigate, there are still photo signs with numbers that signify important sites and corresponding maps that make the Italian lettering easy to understand. It is nice to stay in historic buildings that house the hotels, they really have character.

  The next day I headed to the Vatican. At 6:00 am there were only a couple of people outside the structure so I got excellent photo's with no crowd. Once the doors opened I climbed the stairs to the tower that looks down on the Saint Pietro Basilica and the whole compound THAT IS the Vatican (there are many offices there that run the global Catholic affairs and other churches besides the St Pietro Basilica ). Inside the Basilica, which is about 500 years old, was the most amazing sight I had ever seen, words may not be able to describe this place; even for a non-denominational person. There are about 40 places to pray where a priest and alter boy stand by; so many statues adorn the grand halls that are covered in paintings from floor to ceiling, one hall had ancient carpets, another had ancient drapes and yet another had geographical paintings. The Sistine Chapel and museum were incredible. All religion and politics aside, the Vatican is an AMAZING place, just incredible. I took a couple of shots of the Switz Guards that watch over some of the entrances and then moved on....so much to see.

   The next day I walked and walked, perhaps about 20-25 kms/per day. The weather was muggy with temperatures hovering around 30 degrees. There are many nice bridges in Rome, they make for nice photo's; especially bridges like the Sublicio. I visited the most important French Church in Rome, St, Lois, it was very beautiful. The Pantheon, or Basilica Di Santa Maria Ad Martyres was another amazing place; it is not only beautiful but this 2,000 year old sphere it only a couple of centimetres out when measured by experts. How they could have been that precise so many years ago is what makes this the #1 stop for structural engineers. I ended up to cover most all of the sites on the map, too numerous to list, some 400 plus photo's were taken. Some notable mentions include: Villa Medici, San Carlo Quatro Fontane, Castel Sant Angelo, Palatino, and Domus Aurea; just to name a few. I was so tired....but very satisfied.

  After I was "Romed Out" I headed for a lido (beach) on an old graffiti covered train. The beach was packed but I found shade which helped me to escape the heat. For me personally the Rome experience was great. The world cup was on so there was a lot of excitement in the streets, especially if Italy won a game. The people of the city were hospitable and often very helpful. The open sexuality is a bit hard to get used to; topless beaches are one thing but some people almost "get it on" at the bus stop. They do say "when in Rome, do as the Romans do", I think I will pass on that one.

Friday 24 July 2015


  Papua New Guinea......The Situation in Schools

   In 1954 is when the Papua New Guinea (PNG) government set up schools to educate the children of the country; prior to that missionaries visited villages to educate the kids, unless the village was remote.

   One of my good friends from PNG is Solomon who invited me to go up to the June Valley (his home town) to stay. Actually I did not stay with him because he just has a bed at a friends house; instead I stayed at his relatives; Namuck, Ibo, and their children. I felt like I had time to spare since I was only going for walks in the town, and up the hills behind our row of homes; so I went to the school and asked them if they needed any help. The principal at the school said he definitely did but said I would have to ask at the board of education office. The staff at the board office were ecstatic and the boss said that "June Valley School has a grade 5 class that only has a part time teacher that works in this office half the day and the other half of the day she splits her time between 2 classes". So it looked like my next volunteering in PNG would be as a grade 5 teacher.

   I showed up at the school the next morning and the children were going wild; I was swarmed at the front gate...it seemed like most of them could not believe their eyes. Some kids would touch my arm and then run off smiling with wide eyes (happy to have survived the experience I presumed). My class had 36 pupils and the first lesson of the day was grammar and spelling; the night before I had thought about a lesson plan and figured that there was already some type of curriculum in place. The kids were incredibly cooperative and down right sweet. There were not enough text books to go around so kids had to share. When we moved on to English the problem with school supplies was evident. I dispersed kids into groups of 3 (for book sharing), once we had to turn to the next page some books were missing that page; this is when the teacher has to spend valuable time to re-disperse kids so they could all see the text. Half of the kids were bare foot; many of those children did not have a pencil, that makes for slow progress. Near the end of that first day I announced to the principal that I would run a soccer clinic after school. Over 100 kids stayed after school for soccer; there was one under-inflated ball. What we did as a group was exercising; like running around the compound, up and down the stairs in the school, sit-ups.......each child got to take two kicks of the ball, at a target.

  PNG has a problem with unemployment and lawless behaviour; every so often when the behaviour worsens there is a curfew. The next school day we discovered that the one grade 4 class was destroyed during the night, thieves ransacked the classroom stealing anything that was not nailed down. Supplies were very limited at the school to begin with so when there is such an act of vandalism and theft it is the children who suffer. The kids seem to take things in stride and our classes were very enjoyable. After school was also fun, interacting with all the children is something I will always remember. I was happy to go to school every day; I really looked forward to seeing the children. Although my time was brief at the school, I hoped that I made some difference. On the last day I got a nice letter from the kids and little gifts (whatever the child's family had ).

    Throughout the world we can never go wrong when we surround our self with children; it is the adults that complicate harmony.

 

Thursday 23 July 2015


 Stewart Island, New Zealand....Isolation, Bugs and MUD

  Stewart Island off of the south tip of the South Island, New Zealand is the place to go if you want to have a strenuous workout hike in the bush. One can take a 2-2.5 hour ferry over to the island or a short flight.

  I arrived at the tiny Invercargill International Airport on Friday the 13th and was not expecting the facility to be so, let's say, cute. I mingled with a few passengers as we watched a 7 seat plane head down the runway (there were 2 airplanes on the tarmac). The plane turned around and the seven people got out, there was something wrong with the brakes. These people then loaded into the small plane that I and the others were supposed to get on and they flew off into the black clouds. A worker opened a sliding barn door on a shed and inside was a 3rd plane. I started to joke about Friday the 13th, will we make it across alive ?? (I did not know the Switz girls were afraid of flying, I found that out later), I wrote in my journal "I hope this little craft gets us there". We loaded into the plane and headed into the black cloud, it had already started to rain. Minor turbulence began, followed by heavier rain and a crack of thunder. Next thing I knew was the small plane was bouncing around like a toy; there was lightening, the planes engine was sputtering. I had a side view of the pilot who was frantically pulling and pushing buttons; my excitement turned to fear....that did not last long, it was a short flight.

   After landing at Halfmoon Bay and finding information at the rangers station I headed out with my backpack to do some hiking. After 6.5 hours of walking up and down hills of mud I made it to the Bungaree Hut, I wondered what I was getting myself into. There were a couple of views of nice bays, some nice trees, and a few birds but what went in my journal was mud,mud, mud.

                        

                        

I picked a spot with a view of some islands off of the beach to examine the blister on my foot that I still had from hiking the Heaphy Trek up on the South Island.

  In the morning I headed down the trail to a beach (lots of shells) before I took the 4.5 hour hike to the Christmas Village Hut. I did not see any people (other hikers) but that was okay, I had mud. From my journal....Stewart Island is 65 kms from north-south and 40 kms from east-west. Halfmoon bay (where the ferry lands) has about 200 people, mostly fishermen who use generators for power. I did not go up to Mt Anglem, the islands highest point, because it was very cloudy and I wouldn't have been  able to see anything. 6 hunters showed up to the hut and they made deer soup so it was nice that they shared.

                        

   I went down to the beach in the morning and there was a beautiful sunrise, the first sun in 7 days, a great way to start the day. Most all of the trail goes through heavy bush, not too often that you get a view. After hours of up and down in the mud I ended up falling in a creek after a branch I used for support snapped, I got scraped up a little. Once I reached the Yankee River I soaked up the sun and took the opportunity to take off my wet shoes and wash the mud off of my legs from the knee down. I ended the day at Smokey Beach (beautiful 3 kms of golden sand) which came after 11 hours of hiking,

                        

I passed a hut about half way so I could push myself to finish this adventure earlier. At least at Smokey Beach the sand flies were not eating me alive. For the most part on this trail if you stop you will be swarmed by many "man eaters".

  After another hiking day alone, I went up very steep muddy hills and then back down steep muddy hills, I reached Long Harry Bay. My legs felt like rubber and yet again I wondered what I had gotten myself into. I was making good speed and figured I may be able to do the 7-10 day North West Circuit in 5.5 days.

  I went down to the beach and spotted my first blue penguins, they were hiding among the rocks and were so cute; too bad I had to leave, the sand flies were ferocious. These penguins fish most of the day, then around sundown they come out of the water to dry off; flapping and cleaning them self  before heading for a safe place to bunker down.

                       


 There are some wild cats here that hunt them but for the most part they are safe on land. I went down to the beach early in the morning to see if I could see the penguins again, only a dead baby unfortunately; I noticed some guys waving on a fishing boat. I waved back and then a couple of minutes later a dinghy approached and Philip asked me if I wanted to have breakfast on the boat. We cruised around the coast with his two workers and retrieved some of his crayfish traps.

                      

The one worker John cooked up so much different seafood, it was delicious; after we ate they took me back to the beach and I headed out for the Freshwater Hike.

  The journey to the Freshwater Hut was excruciating, the signs had listed the timing for completion at 13-14 hours and it took me about 10. This was a real strenuous, okay, ridiculously strenuous; I was sore all over and talk about filthy. My legs were getting so tired; about 5kms in to the hike my left leg sank down to my shorts in the mud; it was good that I held on to a tree because I could not feel the bottom.Both legs went down to the knees at least 5 times and when the mud was not deep it only went up to half of my shins; no wonder the logs at the huts all had the same messages...MUD. The highlights of the day were: the breakfast, I startled a deer, was startled by a baby possum and the scenery was beautiful all along the Ruggedy Flats, which is the biggest valley on the island. There was a nice beach at Long Harry Bay and to my surprise, two Germans and a one Switz hiker.

   The last day was a grueling 7 hr trek (supposed to be 9) that I finished just in time to sign out at the rangers station and catch the ferry.There were at least 15 swing bridges on the island which really helped for crossing poor area's. Once I got back to Invercargill I talked to a guy who used to have a farm on Stewart Island; he said that he has seen a deer sink to the neck in the "MUD SWAMP".

   Often when I say to a friend that I went on a tough adventure he says "I am glad that I was not there".


Tuesday 21 July 2015


  I knew from a young age that I wanted to travel:

    These days so many young people travel, I think we call them "jet setters"; it seems that journeys abroad come easy for so many of our youth. Even my own young daughter will go to London with the girl guides in a couple of weeks; she has already been to China and the Philippines; as well as many places in Canada. I believe that travel was more of a dream when I was young. I remember that my dad told me that he always wanted to travel but he never did make it abroad. After so many years of travel I can see now that I (and we, my wife) often just squeaked by financially to make a trip happen. Yes, just like a first home buyer somehow pulling all the strings to make a purchase happen, I even took out a bank loan to get on the plane. This is an open question.......do young people appreciate travel the way my generation did or do they feel entitled?
  My wife has been so supportive in helping me continue with a life of adventure and I am sooo thankful. What I am wondering is did I get the "travel itch from a very young age?"
     Besides some local summer holidays with my family my first trip alone was on the school trip to Ottawa. For grade 7 and grade 8 we had a school trip that took kids who could afford it (parents) from Dundas, Ontario to Ottawa. I went both years and although my parents kicked in I used my own money from a Sunday job that I had for years. I can honestly remember that I was excited to go on those trips to our capital; perhaps the most important emotion was feeling fortunate. We did not have a lot of money so being able to go both years (many students could not go, others only went once) was good for my moral.
   The next time I went on a big trip was around 1980 with my ex-girl friend and my close friends Dave and Janet. We traveled by car from Hamilton, Ontario to Perth-Andover, New Brunswick for a holiday in a cabin. That was a great experience; for discovering new territory, spending time with close friends and making our big tree fort on the mountain; while living in the wild. What I learned on that holiday had nothing to do with travel, the lesson was more personal.......do not announce to your girlfriend at the beginning of a trip that you will break up with her when you get home (hey I was young).
    The next year I headed to Perth-Andover again with my younger brother in my 1970 Dodge Challenger. We picked up an older guy who was hitch hiking east of Toronto; by the time we got to Montreal it was dark and this guy knew his way around. He asked us if we wanted to go into a bar; I was just of age and my brother was under age. We ended up going in to the small nightclub and fairly quickly a young lady asked me to dance. While dancing this new acquaintance asked me where we would stay for the night, I told her in the car; she said you can stay at my place but your brother will have to sleep on the couch. In the morning my brother was knocking on the bedroom door saying "Ian, Ian, her boyfriend is in the living room". I was expecting some big trouble; when I came out he said good morning, and there was no problem....go figure.
    In  1982 I took the trip that changed my life forever; I told my friend Rick that I wanted to go west and he also thought it was a good idea. I sold many of my belongings in preparation for the new adventure. After some nights with close friends and a tearful goodbye with Rick's family we headed out in my old Chevy pick-up for our trip west. What I remember was that I thought we could go up north in BC and make really good money so we could travel abroad, NOT....1982 was a recession year in BC. Rick went back east after about 8 months and I stayed out west to build my life here. Anyway our trip west was fantastic...so many experiences that I remember clearly (we shared those experiences with our dogs, I had the mom and Rick had her pup). Since we both love nature then the north of Ontario was something we cherished. I cannot understate the joy I felt on this eventful trip; when we saw the Rockies from east of Calgary we were impressed, once we experienced the mountains from within we were awestruck. Famous places like Lake Louis and Banff were right before our eyes. I truly appreciate the opportunity to see the scenery that Canada has to offer.
   Did I have the "travelers itch" at that time, I am not sure. It seems that when I put my mind to something I make it happen...somehow.
  I love hearing a new traveler talk about her/his trip, there is excitement in the story that can only come from that first journey.

Monday 20 July 2015


   Fiji..........Not Just Beaches, Not Just Bula

   I landed in Nandi on the island of Viti Levu, Fiji when I was on my way to New Zealand. The country of Fiji is made up of over 300 islands and sits in the south pacific (south west of Western Samoa). This country has a reputation for it's beautiful white sand beaches on many small islands and crystal clear waters to enjoy.....if you are a typical tourist. Just to give a little hint at what is to come in this blog, I was told a couple of weeks ago- 01/07/2015, that I should slow down, hmm, that is what I was told in Fiji.
    I checked into a hostel in Nandi and had a little accident with my cheap camera (I dropped it), so off I went to the shopping street to get a new one. Most all of the Fijian shop owners were of Indian descent and when they said hello, it was not a real hello, that word was used as "come into my shop". That first day I was pestered so much that the next day when I went downtown I used a walkman with headphones, these same shop owners were angry, a couple different men grabbed my arm to pull me into their shop; not exactly good customer service. There was poverty everywhere around this airport city, just outside the center the cows and chickens were trying to eat from the burning pile of garbage, there was a dead horse on the side of the road and the dogs were sniffing around it....not far away there were expensive tourist resorts.

                            

   I got out of the city after 2 days on an old overcrowded bus and made it to a resort outside Singatoka, this small town lies on the road that goes to the capital (Suva).

                             

 Once I checked into the dorm cabin (they had beautiful family cabins also) I took a walk and soon found myself invited into a Fijian village to drink Kava. This Kava is supposed to be a spiritual drink for the villagers, it comes from the Yaqona Root; they ground it and mix it with water. The older the root the more potent it is...this liquid made my tongue and lips numb. The villagers complained about the behaviour of the Indian Fijians, they monopolize most of the business's and seem to treat the indigenous Fijians poorly, no wonder the country has had so many coups.
   That first day at the resort was awesome, I met so many people from different countries; the beach was incredible, the water was clear, and warm, I swam and snorkeled.

                       

 I played different sports with many guys and we had a table tennis tournament. Later in the afternoon I went for a run; a couple of days before I left Squamish we had played soccer in Vancouver and I was a bit tight. The next day I took a local bus ride, the journey was so slow; not only do they stop for two waving arms in the sugar cane field but also for fruit vendors on the side of the road.

                          

                           



 I sat there while one person out of 30 on the bus bargained out of a window with the seller (soooo hot). I decided to walk back to the resort, about 15 kms. and on the way I stopped at two villages, the people were so friendly. The sky was dark when I got back so I decided to take the short cut over the fence instead of going to the main gate. When I got into the dorm the guys there started yelling "Heyyyy, there you are, there is a guy in the games room that is great at table tennis and he is going to kick your butt".
   I headed out of the front door and ran on the sidewalk towards the games room when all of a sudden I hit the ground....I had rolled my ankle in a hole. When I was gone during the day the workers had broken the sidewalk and dug a hole, there was no light, no cones....no warning, unless I was there during the day to see it. I laid on the ground in excruciating  pain groaning, some guys from the dorm came and carried me in to the cabin. My ankle swelled quick and I decided I would have to go to the hospital. A call was made for a taxi; when the driver got there he looked at my ankle and quoted me a price that was triple the norm for the 25 km drive to Singatoka. I said no, when he left another cab was called, this time I covered my foot and tried to look relaxed (although I was gritting my teeth and soaked with sweat) , the drivers quote was the regular rate.
   We got to the hospital about 10 pm and there was no x-ray so the nurse wrapped it and asked me to come back in the morning, if I could move my foot then the injury would probably just be ligaments. Back to the resort I went, staying awake all night before returning in the morning by bus. When I got to the hospital the waiting room was loaded so I took a seat at the back, my foot was throbbing and very swollen. When the nurse saw me she waved me forward and I tried to say no, I will wait. The reason I would go first is the locals pay about $0.20  where I paid $20.00. I saw the doctor and he took me in for an x-ray which was like two big camera's, there was a big flash and poof/poof then all I can remember is the doctor dipping this big negative in a laundry tub and holding it up to the light. He said that it was too hard to read so I could just wrap the ankle in Fijian leaves. I asked about crutches and was taken by wheelchair to an old sparse closet where there were two odd crutches, so I rented them.


                       


     I lasted a total of 9 days in Fiji; on day 7 there was a nurse at the resort that told me my ankle looked bad and that I should get to New Zealand and get some proper care; she also told me that "I should slow down" after learning how I got the injury, and how much crutching around I was doing. By that day #7 my foot was 6 shades of purple and the palms of both hands had raw spots. An infection had started on my back after leaving the hospital, I laid on the bed with no shirt (it was so hot), that oozing wound was now the size of a saucer.  All of the prices went up for me, a gibble; my independence was lost. I was in so much pain that I could barely stand sitting by the pool at the resort.
    You see that Fiji is not just a beautiful beach....although I saw one.












Sunday 19 July 2015



   Philippines: Luzon

    Like many developing countries beauty is often forgotten when the noise and pollution of the cities is inescapable, until one gets out of the city that is. In late 1999 I went to the Philippines with my wife; after attending the 87th Grey Cup in Vancouver where the Ti-Cats beat Calgary 33-21. We loaded in a jeepney (public transport common in the country) in Manila to head north to Lupao, Nueva Ecija, it was 29 degrees and muggy. We headed north for the five and a half hour, 200 km journey, the trip was dreadful. Jeepney's are partially open on the sides so it did not take long to get a sore throat from the exhaust fumes from all the idle vehicles on the crowded streets. Just outside the city there were many garbage fires on the sides of the street, I squinted and held my breathe the best I could; all the time taking in the new territory.
   While visiting my wife's family we made a couple of local trips......well,3 jeepney's and 4 tricycle rides. We kept passing or being passed by a tricycle that was pulling a trailer loaded with 6 large pigs; the bottom one was fighting, squirming, and squealing trying to get out from the bottom, it was so hot. After passing this trailer many times I was very thankful that I was not a pig. We headed out of Lupao to travel and the first stop was Baguio, which has an elevation of 1500 metres; the weather is a lot more pleasant, the scenery was okay. After a couple of days we loaded a bus to head to Bontoc, while sitting in the bus guys loaded a tied up pig into the undercarriage, you can imagine how much squealing it did. The first 2 hours on the narrow mountain roads allowed us spectacular views, the mountain scenery was very nice.


                         


                                          


                             


                             


 Once we reached the highest road elevation in the Philippines (approx. 2,400 metres) it got very cool, local villagers were wearing heavy jackets and hats.
   Over half the road over the mountain was gravel, a lot of it one lane; there were many washout spots and tight corners where one vehicle would have to back up if they saw another one. Word had it that many a vehicle goes over the edge on that road....scenery was so beautiful though, photo's would not do the view justice.

                                       

 Bontoc was good for us, the next day we took the jeepney to Sagada. When we arrived we went for a short walk before finding lodging.

                             

 That short walk ended up to be 4 hours of hiking through the bush, we ended up to be very happy with our adventure. Sagada is known for caves and it's hanging coffins so on our first hike we saw a couple of caves and many coffins hanging on the cliffs.

                                           


                                 



 I would not want to be the guy who had to drive the steel pin in to hold the coffin, or one of the guys to hang it. Although we got all scratched up and muddy, our first day in Sagada was very successful; the people were very friendly and we found a nice place for sleeping.
   The next day was a Saturday so it was market day, people from the small villages brought their wares into the small town, the people were all happy.

                             


We headed out for our exploration, first to the Echo Valley with superb views; then we went to the Matangkib cave and saw many more hanging coffins.

                           

 After that we headed to the Kiltepan Peak for another stunning view before making our way to the Bokong Waterfall. We were gone for 6.5 hours in total, there was a lot of up and down but we were sure satisfied.

  At 2am that night we were awoke by an earthquake that shook our little cottage pretty good, the front two supports were stilts about 5 metres up from the ground. My wife was scared because she was in Lupao in 1990 when a large earthquake killed so many people. Needless to say we never got back to sleep, we had to take the 6am jeepney back to Bontoc anyway. At 7:30 we sat on the Bontoc-Banaue bus and it would not start so we had to get out and help push it to jump start it. Our first hour had great scenery but as we climbed the rain was upon us, when we got to a lookout for a supposed spectacular view we could not even see in front of our hand, never mind taking a photo. Somewhere in the mist were the very famous Banaue Rice Terraces.