After a little less than a week in Sydney we headed for the hills in our newly acquired van. Katoomba is the main town of the Blue Mountains and whilst the houses sprawl out for quite a distance, the town centre consists of one street which is home to a few dozen pubs, cafés, and restaurants and a handful of little boutiques selling antiques, bric-a-brac and books. The town is now entirely reliant on tourism, and so every shop-front boasts their most enticing wares gratuitously and the few tour groups which conduct daily excursions to the surrounding areas shamelessly promote themselves with large posters on all available surfaces in the town.
It was a shock after leaving the energy of Sydney to find a completely laid back way of life in the Mountains. Several of the pubs don't open at all Monday – Thursday and those that do are generally quiet even with the abundance of tourists as they are mostly getting early nights ready for the tiring days that lay ahead of them. Because that is the real attraction of the local mountainsides – exhausting yourself on walks through the valleys; climbs through the gorges; and abseils down vertical cliff-faces.
The mountains have created a truly beautiful environment of green rainforests and valleys, orange deserts and rock outcrops, and colourful bursts of flowers wherever the water springs from the ground. They are home to a plethora of bush wildlife so varied that every morning I woke to the sound of a different animal that I had never heard before. The way of life that you can so easily slip into is a peaceful and sedentary one consisting of waking casually to a view down the side of a mountain; an afternoon of walks and taking in the spectacular views; an evening of conversation and wine-drinking around a camp fire; and a long peaceful sleep out with the wildlife, separated from the elements by only a thin sheet of canvass.
When feeling energetic though, a whole day can easily be filled by rigorous adventures in the numerous local hills. One such day, a 7 O'clock start meant that we were able to spend a morning abseiling down the cliffs around Mt. York before tackling the canyon of Wentworth – a 2km gorge consisting of treacherous plunge-pools to dive into and rocky outcrops to climb over, ending in a 30m abseil down the very wet and slippery Wentworth Falls. Terrifying. Exhilarating. Exhausting.
Luckily, we were camping out the back of an excellent hostel, The Flying Fox, where it is commonplace to retire after an energetic day with a bottle of wine and sit by the campfire out the back talking to Ross, the owner, and watch the sun set – or curl up inside by the fire and watch the flames dance.
Another day took us into the area of Jenolan and the largest collection of open caverns in the known world. There are over 300 caves here, several of which have openings into the cliff sides which gave us the opportunity to explore! The first cave we went into was called the Orient – slightly imaginatively named because of the vague resemblance to far-eastern locations that some of the rock formations took on. The caves were filed with the most amazing calcite formations I had ever seen – and I had been told that there are no finer specimens in all the world. The different crystals were in the traditional stalactites and stalagmites that most people are aware of; but also helactite formations, ribbons of crystal creating sweeping 'shawls' across the cave roofs and walls; 'cave mysteries' which are strange angular growths jutting in random directions from any surface and have no proven explanation for their existence... and more formations besides these. The cave took over an hour to explore and left me with a great thirst for more!
The second cave I went into was called the Imperial Diamond Cave. The Imperial cave is the grandest of all the Jenolan caves. Massive in size, with many different aspects. An underground river still flows in its depths with water so deceptively clear that although it looks only 1 foot deep is actually over 6 feet from surface to river bed. There was a strong but thankfully controllable desire to test this information and prove to my eyes that what they reported was a lie! We came across a shaft above us, and were informed that after a 10m abseil, there is just over 100m of vertical pothole that can be clambered down. I will be returning to this cave to do just that, very soon!
I will also be returning to see a recital of some of Paganini's work in one of the caves just before Christmas, performed on guitar and violin by some Romany gypsies. I don't know what the acoustics in a mighty limestone cave will do to the already schizophrenic-sounding melodies of Paganini, but I'm prepared to pay to find out!
The Blue Mountains have a lot to offer, both aesthetically and spiritually. The place is so peaceful yet entertaining that I know I'll return there several times before I have to leave Australia. Once at Christmas, as I mentioned, and maybe again before that when we're next in New South Wales. Just to say 'Hi' to Ross, and chill by the campfire outside the Fox with a bottle of good wine.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
The best made plans of mice and men oft go awry
Even before I embarked on this trip, the phrase came again and again into my mind: 'Even the best made plans of mice and men oft go awry'. I can't remember who plagiarised who – but the phrase has been quoted, revised and quoted again many times over the last century. And as is often the case with such things, it has been reused so often with good reason. There's a lot of sense in that simple sentence.
Everyone I spoke to that had been on extended travels had warned me not to make plans, as they will always change. You cannot guess what places you will like and want to stay in for longer; or what places will disappoint. But even so – when people asked how I was intending to see Australia I would still give them a month-by-month breakdown of the next 12 months... and then add: “though that might change a little”
How much of an understatement was that!?
Rather than spend the first three months of our trip in New South Wales travelling the Gold Coast we have instead gone in the opposite direction, crossing three state-boundaries in as many days. We've hopped from state capital to state capital going from Sydney in New South Wales to Melbourne in Victoria to Perth in Western Australia.
The reasons for the drastic change in direction are many, but suffice it to say that they have certainly taught me not to make or rely on any plans beyond the end of the current week! We have generally made our travel arrangements one day in advance (or less) and travelling like this, every day subject to whim, is a lot more fulfilling and exciting than thinking ahead and looking at a 'big picture'
So next time someone gives me some advice like: 'don't make plans'; 'travel light'; or 'trust the hippies' I'm actually going to listen to them and assume there is a reason they think they know best.
Everyone I spoke to that had been on extended travels had warned me not to make plans, as they will always change. You cannot guess what places you will like and want to stay in for longer; or what places will disappoint. But even so – when people asked how I was intending to see Australia I would still give them a month-by-month breakdown of the next 12 months... and then add: “though that might change a little”
How much of an understatement was that!?
Rather than spend the first three months of our trip in New South Wales travelling the Gold Coast we have instead gone in the opposite direction, crossing three state-boundaries in as many days. We've hopped from state capital to state capital going from Sydney in New South Wales to Melbourne in Victoria to Perth in Western Australia.
The reasons for the drastic change in direction are many, but suffice it to say that they have certainly taught me not to make or rely on any plans beyond the end of the current week! We have generally made our travel arrangements one day in advance (or less) and travelling like this, every day subject to whim, is a lot more fulfilling and exciting than thinking ahead and looking at a 'big picture'
So next time someone gives me some advice like: 'don't make plans'; 'travel light'; or 'trust the hippies' I'm actually going to listen to them and assume there is a reason they think they know best.
Hostels
One thing I have quickly learnt here in Australia is not to have any expectations. If you have high hopes then they could be dashed by the smallest disappointment; and if you don't expect anything special then there's always room to be pleasantly surprised. Hostels are no exception to this rule, and this has already been proved time and time again.
You come to find certain sounds, sights, and smells unfortunately very familiar. The sound of someone coming into the dorm at 4am; the sound of someone else getting up and leaving the dorm 5am; the smell of a fridge with long abandoned food hidden in its depths; the site of long abandoned cups/clothes/linen gathering dust and new lifeforms from its hidden den – and of course combinations of all three senses: The sound/sight/ smell of someone bending over next to your bed and letting one off in your direction when you're still too asleep to recoil or retaliate. Yes – that actually happened (and I'll get the b-----d back if I get a chance.)
Staying in a dorm is not for me. For a few extra bucks I can get a room on my own – and as it's only ever somewhere to sleep, I don't feel like I'm missing out on any community spirit that might be happening elsewhere in the hostel. And if it means I don't need to listen to eight other guys snoring and farting all night I think it's money very well spent.
And when you come across a true 'gem' of a place you understand how apt that phrase can be. Shining through the mud and detritus of most other hostels you sometimes come across a gleaming retreat with a personal touch that makes all the difference. Somewhere, which straight away makes you feel at home; with people that you come to consider family; and an atmosphere which is contagious (in an altogether different way to other places) and comfortable. And when such a place is found, a value cannot be put upon staying there.
I've learnt that the sort of places worth staying in are small personally-run hostels and lodges where the manager and owner is on the premises most of the time. If that is the case, then hopefully they won't be prepared to live in squalor – and that will mean you won't have to either. In a smaller place, everyone can get to know each other pretty easily and the staff will know you as well. Small personal touches can make all the difference when all the normally-familiar faces are thousands of miles away.
Without a shadow of doubt, my favourite place I've stayed in is just such a place: The Flying Fox in Katoomba, The Blue Mountains, NSW. The setting helps tremendously – waking up in the morning and being able to look down in to the valleys of misty-blue eucalyptus, exotic birds and animals, and glowing sunshine. But everything about the hostel itself is just as pleasant – from the log fires at night; hours of conversation and drinking of wine with the owner every evening; the sense of community everyone who stays there experiences. (And of course it is very clean, well-priced, and comfortable.) I'll be spending Christmas there later this year... it helps to book somewhere early... and I know there will be a fantastic celebration with much food, booze, and probably the odd present or two changing hands. So if I don't call anyone this year – you now know why. I'll be having way too much fun to remember!
You come to find certain sounds, sights, and smells unfortunately very familiar. The sound of someone coming into the dorm at 4am; the sound of someone else getting up and leaving the dorm 5am; the smell of a fridge with long abandoned food hidden in its depths; the site of long abandoned cups/clothes/linen gathering dust and new lifeforms from its hidden den – and of course combinations of all three senses: The sound/sight/ smell of someone bending over next to your bed and letting one off in your direction when you're still too asleep to recoil or retaliate. Yes – that actually happened (and I'll get the b-----d back if I get a chance.)
Staying in a dorm is not for me. For a few extra bucks I can get a room on my own – and as it's only ever somewhere to sleep, I don't feel like I'm missing out on any community spirit that might be happening elsewhere in the hostel. And if it means I don't need to listen to eight other guys snoring and farting all night I think it's money very well spent.
And when you come across a true 'gem' of a place you understand how apt that phrase can be. Shining through the mud and detritus of most other hostels you sometimes come across a gleaming retreat with a personal touch that makes all the difference. Somewhere, which straight away makes you feel at home; with people that you come to consider family; and an atmosphere which is contagious (in an altogether different way to other places) and comfortable. And when such a place is found, a value cannot be put upon staying there.
I've learnt that the sort of places worth staying in are small personally-run hostels and lodges where the manager and owner is on the premises most of the time. If that is the case, then hopefully they won't be prepared to live in squalor – and that will mean you won't have to either. In a smaller place, everyone can get to know each other pretty easily and the staff will know you as well. Small personal touches can make all the difference when all the normally-familiar faces are thousands of miles away.
Without a shadow of doubt, my favourite place I've stayed in is just such a place: The Flying Fox in Katoomba, The Blue Mountains, NSW. The setting helps tremendously – waking up in the morning and being able to look down in to the valleys of misty-blue eucalyptus, exotic birds and animals, and glowing sunshine. But everything about the hostel itself is just as pleasant – from the log fires at night; hours of conversation and drinking of wine with the owner every evening; the sense of community everyone who stays there experiences. (And of course it is very clean, well-priced, and comfortable.) I'll be spending Christmas there later this year... it helps to book somewhere early... and I know there will be a fantastic celebration with much food, booze, and probably the odd present or two changing hands. So if I don't call anyone this year – you now know why. I'll be having way too much fun to remember!
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Animals in Oz
Today I saw my first hopping marsupial. And my second not too long after that! On the way down to the Jenolan Caves (where the most amazing calcite crystals can be seen) I saw a small, dark-furred, fluffy walabe hopping from the roadside up a little bank, before turning to stare at us as we drove past - not more than six feet away from us. And after spending the afternoon in the caves, I saw two large kangaroos in a field - apparently looking at something in the distance (I like to think they were admiring the sunset).
So now I really feel like I'm in Australia!
There's been a lot of interesting wildlife to see since we arrived. Some of it has been in the trees, some of it has been in the fields, and the best of all has been in freezer-compartments in the fish markets!
I went to Sydney Fish Market for a day last week, and there was plenty which appealed to me! As I walked through the main building's entrance, I grabbed a bunch of octopus on a skewer and went searching for some more tasties! After half an hour of walking between the vendors I had a pretty good idea of where the best bits were. I started with a half-dozen Sydney Rock Oysters. Little things with a beautiful flavor! I went on to try the Pacific Oysters - which were much bigger, stronger-tasting, but not actually as nice. The lobsters, king-prawns, and salmon and tuna sashimi I won't even begin to describe. Just the thought of them is making me dribble down my T-shirt all over again!
Other than the edible life here, there's plenty to catch the eye. Crimson Rosellas are pretty common up in the Blue Mountains, so we've seen a lot of them. And paraquettes, cockatoos... I even saw a lyre bird this afternoon... a lot like a peacock. Maybe even tastier!
Last week I saw my first marsupial - a collection of tiny possums up a tree waiting for their parents to bring them dinner! ANd not long after that, I saw another possum - with baby in the pouch - sitting out in the open in the Sydney Botanical Gardens. The pictures I got were amazing (available in my Sydney album: http://s238.photobucket.com/albums/ff134/rickginer/ then click the Sydney sub-album)
I've seen a few different lizards. A handful of different types - but mainly a large tree-gecko in the Botanical Gardens, a huge water dragon in the Blue Mountains - and a few fresh water skinks as well (little and very quick buggers) skitting across the path.
In the way of spiders, I have seen a funnel-web - one of the deadliest spiders ion the world. And a few huntsmen whcih will not do you any good either! Checking under toilet seats, behind cushions, and in shoes has become a sort of ritual that has been surprisingly easy to get into. Not surprising when you think of the consequences for not paying attention!
The list of unusual and amusing animals that have entertained me in the day and annoyed me throughout the night goes on and on! I could write for hours about the cigadas, flying foxes, ibis, crows, magpies (none of which are the same as I have been used to)...... but with the smells of dinner wafting from the kitchen, I can think of little else but what's next going in my stomach (which itself reminds me of a few more tasty animals I saw) but look at the pictures online - and if there's anything you want to know about send me a mail!
Much love,
R
So now I really feel like I'm in Australia!
There's been a lot of interesting wildlife to see since we arrived. Some of it has been in the trees, some of it has been in the fields, and the best of all has been in freezer-compartments in the fish markets!
I went to Sydney Fish Market for a day last week, and there was plenty which appealed to me! As I walked through the main building's entrance, I grabbed a bunch of octopus on a skewer and went searching for some more tasties! After half an hour of walking between the vendors I had a pretty good idea of where the best bits were. I started with a half-dozen Sydney Rock Oysters. Little things with a beautiful flavor! I went on to try the Pacific Oysters - which were much bigger, stronger-tasting, but not actually as nice. The lobsters, king-prawns, and salmon and tuna sashimi I won't even begin to describe. Just the thought of them is making me dribble down my T-shirt all over again!
Other than the edible life here, there's plenty to catch the eye. Crimson Rosellas are pretty common up in the Blue Mountains, so we've seen a lot of them. And paraquettes, cockatoos... I even saw a lyre bird this afternoon... a lot like a peacock. Maybe even tastier!
Last week I saw my first marsupial - a collection of tiny possums up a tree waiting for their parents to bring them dinner! ANd not long after that, I saw another possum - with baby in the pouch - sitting out in the open in the Sydney Botanical Gardens. The pictures I got were amazing (available in my Sydney album: http://s238.photobucket.com/albums/ff134/rickginer/ then click the Sydney sub-album)
I've seen a few different lizards. A handful of different types - but mainly a large tree-gecko in the Botanical Gardens, a huge water dragon in the Blue Mountains - and a few fresh water skinks as well (little and very quick buggers) skitting across the path.
In the way of spiders, I have seen a funnel-web - one of the deadliest spiders ion the world. And a few huntsmen whcih will not do you any good either! Checking under toilet seats, behind cushions, and in shoes has become a sort of ritual that has been surprisingly easy to get into. Not surprising when you think of the consequences for not paying attention!
The list of unusual and amusing animals that have entertained me in the day and annoyed me throughout the night goes on and on! I could write for hours about the cigadas, flying foxes, ibis, crows, magpies (none of which are the same as I have been used to)...... but with the smells of dinner wafting from the kitchen, I can think of little else but what's next going in my stomach (which itself reminds me of a few more tasty animals I saw) but look at the pictures online - and if there's anything you want to know about send me a mail!
Much love,
R
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
An afternoon with Clarence
Clarence is an aborignal tribesman born close to the Clarence River in Northern Australia. His totum is the Salamander which means he shares the same blood as it, it is like his brother, and to allow one to come to harm would make him physically ill. He is also the head of Aboriginal Studies at the Botanical Gardens in Sydeny. But beyod all that - he was our guide for one afternoon last week as we walked around the artificial 'bush' that is the Gardens.
The walk was scheduled to be a little over an hour, and should have cost $10. In reality, it lasted over 3 hours - cost nothing - and included some extra-curicular studies in the pub on the way home.
We learnt a great deal about the land, the people, and the spirituality that is so important to the aboriginals, and I don't intend to recount much of that here - but I will say that we had an amazing time, and came away buzzing with excitement at the thought of trying to live off Bush Tucker!
The aboriginals sem to find a use for nearly everything that grows or lives within their domain. Bark on trees which peels off in neat sheets can be used for bandages, to wrap and cook food in, to write on, or to make soft padding... fruits which can't be eaten can be ground down to make oil - or burned with a wick to make a candel. But most importantly - I learnt what is good for a headache, stomach upsets, keeping the flies away, and recovering from a hangover.
The bush awaits.... we're off into the Blue Mountains now for a few weeks of roughing-it, and camping in the wilderness. If I survive the first few nights of experimentation with the local flora and fauna expect a new blog soon!
The walk was scheduled to be a little over an hour, and should have cost $10. In reality, it lasted over 3 hours - cost nothing - and included some extra-curicular studies in the pub on the way home.
We learnt a great deal about the land, the people, and the spirituality that is so important to the aboriginals, and I don't intend to recount much of that here - but I will say that we had an amazing time, and came away buzzing with excitement at the thought of trying to live off Bush Tucker!
The aboriginals sem to find a use for nearly everything that grows or lives within their domain. Bark on trees which peels off in neat sheets can be used for bandages, to wrap and cook food in, to write on, or to make soft padding... fruits which can't be eaten can be ground down to make oil - or burned with a wick to make a candel. But most importantly - I learnt what is good for a headache, stomach upsets, keeping the flies away, and recovering from a hangover.
The bush awaits.... we're off into the Blue Mountains now for a few weeks of roughing-it, and camping in the wilderness. If I survive the first few nights of experimentation with the local flora and fauna expect a new blog soon!
A week in Sydney
I arrived in Sydney just a few minutes behind the girls. Siân and Rachel had gone the opposite way round the globe to get to Sydney, changing planes in San Francisco and Los Angeles - with no more than an hour in each airport between flights. I don't envy them at all (but I did take delight in telling them about my 12 hour stop-over in Hong Kong). It was about 7 in the morning, and it was already over 20 degrees outside the airport. Once we were clear of the terminal building, we were greeted by palm trees, sun, and the promise of a glorious few days in the unofficial capital of Australia.
It turned out to be the hottest day so far in what is only really the beginning of Spring in Australia. Temperatures in the heart of Sydney reached 35 degrees - which was paradise compared to the hottest day I can remember of my Scottish summer (an abismal 26 degrees with rain and wind). We headed straight for Sydeny Harbor, and the panoramic views of the Opera House and the Bridge were just as you've seen them in pictures. There were very few people out and about... a few tourists, an aborigine on the digeridoo (accompanied by the less than traditional drum & bass backing beat), and a few locals who had come to the water's edge to cool off. We dipped our toes in the the cool harbour waters and went off into the Botanical Gardens which make up a huge proportion of the city's centre.
At first glance, Sydney appears a lot like many British cities. The flora and fauna seem familiar, the cars are on the right (correct) side of the road, and there is a mixture of tower blocks and department stores which you would expect to find in any central business district. But looking closer, everything is startlingly different. The black-and-white birds in the trees are not magpies but piping shrikes. The white birds circling overhead are cockatoos and not seagulls. The birds around the ponds which seem to be geese from a distance are in fact ibis. And in amongst the nearly-familiar pines and spruces are an abundance of fig trees, palms, and exotic and strange plants which you would not believe should exist (more about them later)
Another sure way of knowing that we are not in Kansas anymore are the attitudes of everyone we meet. From the trucker who stops to comment on a tattoo and ends up spending 25 minutes telling us about his secret creek a few hundred miles north of Sydney (on our route up the coast) to the random strangers who hear our obviously perplexed and touristic questions to each other and feel obliged to interject with advice and wisdom that has made our time so far a lot more enjoyable, rewarding, and less stressful. Everyone is only too happy to help, whether that means driving us 2 hours into the mountains to find a good camping spot for us, or just giving us directions to the best local pub!
Oh - and Iron Maiden are coming here in February.
I think I'm going to like this place.
It turned out to be the hottest day so far in what is only really the beginning of Spring in Australia. Temperatures in the heart of Sydney reached 35 degrees - which was paradise compared to the hottest day I can remember of my Scottish summer (an abismal 26 degrees with rain and wind). We headed straight for Sydeny Harbor, and the panoramic views of the Opera House and the Bridge were just as you've seen them in pictures. There were very few people out and about... a few tourists, an aborigine on the digeridoo (accompanied by the less than traditional drum & bass backing beat), and a few locals who had come to the water's edge to cool off. We dipped our toes in the the cool harbour waters and went off into the Botanical Gardens which make up a huge proportion of the city's centre.
At first glance, Sydney appears a lot like many British cities. The flora and fauna seem familiar, the cars are on the right (correct) side of the road, and there is a mixture of tower blocks and department stores which you would expect to find in any central business district. But looking closer, everything is startlingly different. The black-and-white birds in the trees are not magpies but piping shrikes. The white birds circling overhead are cockatoos and not seagulls. The birds around the ponds which seem to be geese from a distance are in fact ibis. And in amongst the nearly-familiar pines and spruces are an abundance of fig trees, palms, and exotic and strange plants which you would not believe should exist (more about them later)
Another sure way of knowing that we are not in Kansas anymore are the attitudes of everyone we meet. From the trucker who stops to comment on a tattoo and ends up spending 25 minutes telling us about his secret creek a few hundred miles north of Sydney (on our route up the coast) to the random strangers who hear our obviously perplexed and touristic questions to each other and feel obliged to interject with advice and wisdom that has made our time so far a lot more enjoyable, rewarding, and less stressful. Everyone is only too happy to help, whether that means driving us 2 hours into the mountains to find a good camping spot for us, or just giving us directions to the best local pub!
Oh - and Iron Maiden are coming here in February.
I think I'm going to like this place.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
A day in Hong Kong
In order to break up a horrifically long journey to the other side of the world, I had a 12 hour stop in Hong Kong. With the build-up to Australia, my trip to HK was slightly dwarfed (what's 12 hours when you're planning a year-long trip?) and so I arrived without any plans at all. Without knowing a thinking about the place (I'm embarrassed to say I didn't know what the exchange rate was - and worse: I wasn't even sure what the currency was!) But I was determined not to that that spoil my day. I was going to experience Hong Kong! To learn as much as I could, see all that was on offer - and eat as much as I could squeeze into my belly. And I think I experienced Hong Kong as it really is: A bustling hive of people running around seemingly with purpose but actually in a state of perpetual confusion.
It took me an hour to find my way out of Hong Kong central station. I managed to leave it without too much of a problem, but all the streets, bridges, tunnels, and walkways seemed to lead me round in a huge circle and back into the place. But when I finally found a bus that didn't seem adverse to letting me on with the huge monetary denomination which was the only note the bank had dispensed to me - I was off to see the country!
I started in a typical Hong Kong market, wandering up and down alleyways marveling at how cheap everything was.. it was only 9 in the morning, but already approaching 30 degrees, so I didn't manage long in the busy hive of bargains. It was off to the beach where I sweated my way along the cove in hunt of a few Chinese monuments. And when I found them I was pleased I had made the effort. Ten-meter tall Budhas, deities, and other mighty statues guarded the coastline, and if it weren't for my semi-naked dripping body and the other tourists - I'm sure it would have been a deeply spiritual place.
I left the Island of Hong Kong around midday to go to Kowloon where I had read there is a restaurant in which the best Peking Duck in all the world is found - thinking with my stomach as usual. And it was awesome! There was so much food, and the people in the restaurant were incredibly friendly. The wine waiter made me promise to comeback and bring Siân with me., and tel him all about our travels.
After the food, I started to plod back to the airport via a huge park. I was tired and sore after an intense day of sight-seeing, eating, and the horrible 11 hour flight from the UK. I casually crossed the street to view an advert for a massage, which was a very tempting prospect and before I realised it I was lying half naked, face down in a darkened room waiting for my little Chinese girlie to come and work me over. Unfortunately SHE never came. But HE was very good at his job. I got one hell of a workout! I can't go into the details, as this blog should really be family-friendly, but once I got over the fact that a man was rubbing oil into my buttocks (though not exclusively) I actually started to feel really good. All over. The two-hour session cost about 15 quid. A bargain. I think.
It made the flight onwards to Sydney much more comfortable. Though I didn't sleep. In fact, I arrived in Australia having had six hours sleep in four nights. But that's creeping into the realms of the next post.
Stay tuned.....
Rick.
It took me an hour to find my way out of Hong Kong central station. I managed to leave it without too much of a problem, but all the streets, bridges, tunnels, and walkways seemed to lead me round in a huge circle and back into the place. But when I finally found a bus that didn't seem adverse to letting me on with the huge monetary denomination which was the only note the bank had dispensed to me - I was off to see the country!
I started in a typical Hong Kong market, wandering up and down alleyways marveling at how cheap everything was.. it was only 9 in the morning, but already approaching 30 degrees, so I didn't manage long in the busy hive of bargains. It was off to the beach where I sweated my way along the cove in hunt of a few Chinese monuments. And when I found them I was pleased I had made the effort. Ten-meter tall Budhas, deities, and other mighty statues guarded the coastline, and if it weren't for my semi-naked dripping body and the other tourists - I'm sure it would have been a deeply spiritual place.
I left the Island of Hong Kong around midday to go to Kowloon where I had read there is a restaurant in which the best Peking Duck in all the world is found - thinking with my stomach as usual. And it was awesome! There was so much food, and the people in the restaurant were incredibly friendly. The wine waiter made me promise to comeback and bring Siân with me., and tel him all about our travels.
After the food, I started to plod back to the airport via a huge park. I was tired and sore after an intense day of sight-seeing, eating, and the horrible 11 hour flight from the UK. I casually crossed the street to view an advert for a massage, which was a very tempting prospect and before I realised it I was lying half naked, face down in a darkened room waiting for my little Chinese girlie to come and work me over. Unfortunately SHE never came. But HE was very good at his job. I got one hell of a workout! I can't go into the details, as this blog should really be family-friendly, but once I got over the fact that a man was rubbing oil into my buttocks (though not exclusively) I actually started to feel really good. All over. The two-hour session cost about 15 quid. A bargain. I think.
It made the flight onwards to Sydney much more comfortable. Though I didn't sleep. In fact, I arrived in Australia having had six hours sleep in four nights. But that's creeping into the realms of the next post.
Stay tuned.....
Rick.
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