Author: David

Our lodge in Botswana is a mere 30 minute drive from the border with Zimbabwe, and we make it through customs without any drama and in record time.

Decide to head almost straight out on a boat trip. We fished on the Zambezi from the Zambian side several years ago, and it feels like a nice way to spend our limited time in the country. Jenn decides to accompany me, although opts not to partake.

The river is gorgeous, and whilst our host speaks very little, he clearly knows the water. We use a variety of fishing techniques that result in us landing two catfish and three tiger fish. No river monsters, but a decent haul nonetheless.

As ever it is catch and release. That said, our host tells us that he wants to fillet our final catch of the day to use as bait for the following morning. Call us soft, but we ask to release it, and offer to give him cash to compensate. He reluctantly agrees. Karma is restored.

We see some very decent sized crocodiles and a myriad of hippos. In the distance we can see the mist rising from Victoria Falls. We are also treated to a final spectacular African sunset.

Our flight to Johannesburg the next day leaves at 14.00, which gives us just enough time in the morning to head to Victoria Falls. Seems to take an age to get through the bureaucratic nonsense at the gates and reduces our time to around an hour. Turns out to be sufficient to wander around all the viewpoints and to take in the statue of Livingstone. Stunning spot and a fitting finale.

All too soon we are in a cab and headed to the airport. We have reached the end of our trip.

It is amazing to think that twelve months ago we were boarding a plane to Singapore. At the time, it felt like we had an enormity of time ahead of us. In fact for the first part of our trip, it felt like we had all the time in the world. As the months unfolded, it always felt like there were many more in the bank.

At around the half way point, time started to feel finite. Whilst we still had plenty of time ahead of us, we were closer to the end than the start. In the final weeks and months time has literally flown by. It comes as a shock to find that we are about to head home.

The trip feels like a metaphor for life in general. When you’re young time seems to be infinite, then all of a sudden you realise that life is passing by in a blink. I love the quote, ‘no amount of money, ever bought a second of time.’ It is so true, and if there is one thing that I am taking away from the last twelve months it is to remember how precious time is and to make the most of it.

There were a million reasons for us not to do this trip, and perhaps only one reason to push the button… quite simply it was our dream to travel. We feel incredibly fortunate to have been able to experience a lifetimes worth of adventures in such a short period of time. We are richer for it and will never forget the time we have spent together in some amazing parts of the world.

We will not miss the mosquito bites, countless flights, and strange beds – but all of that will quickly fade, leaving us with the amazing memories of the things we’ve seen and the people we’ve met.

At various points on our travels we have spoken to people about how this trip came about. It was something we had actively planned for years. However, the reality is that it really came to fruition because of Jenn’s superpower. People have invariably been awed by the fact that Jenn organised the entire trip. They are right to be impressed, it has been an amazing feat of logistics. I feel incredibly fortunate to have been guided around the world by my amazing wife. I am not so naïve as to imagine that this trip could have happened any other way and am eternally grateful!

For those of you who have endured our blog for the last twelve months, you have shared 30 different countries, 201 different locations, c.6,500 edited photos, 57 blog entries, and over 120,000 words of unadulterated nonsense recounting our adventures.

We have mixed emotions about the end of our journey. Genuinely looking forward to seeing friends, family, and our cats! Equally, can’t believe the year is over. Unequivocally the best year of our lives – thank you for sharing it with us!

See you soon!

The last stop of our epic journey finds us in Botswana, after a layover in Johannesburg. We both love Africa, so it feels like a fitting way to conclude our twelve-month odyssey.

Landing in Maun, we discover, that the el nino, has exacerbated the lack of rain, resulting in a severe drought. Very little rain fell during the rainy season, and as a result, the north part of the country in particular is unseasonably dry. To reinforce the point, our riverside lodge, lacks any sign of a river!

We have opted for a self-drive safari, with a mixture of camping and lodges, with an emphasis on the latter. We’ve driven before in both Namibia and Tanzania, so have a good idea of what to expect. Our car for the next fortnight is an extended Toyota Landcruiser, all three tonnes of it.

Our agents brief us on how to erect the roof tent, show us where everything is stored, and take us for a short drive to explain the basics. In advance we’d watched a load of videos to familiarise ourselves with the car. May as well have saved our time, totally different config!

Jacob is a burly South African, who is clearly used to life outdoors. Regret my choice of attire. White trainers, blue shorts and a polo top – ready for a day milling around the lodge. Looks like I’ve never stepped foot in Africa before, and draws a nervous glance from our instructor. That said, to paraphrase Forrest Gump ‘he had a way of explaining things so I could understand them.’ Use this setting for ‘little trouble’, this setting for ‘big trouble’, and diff lock for ‘stuck in bad s**t!’ Fairly straightforward.

The car is also equipped with a compressor for deflating and inflating tyres based on ‘road’ type, two spare tyres, a fridge and a freezer. Everything you need to survive in the wilds of Africa. We also have a sat phone for emergencies. In advance, we have downloaded static maps, which we understand are of questionable value at times. What could possibly go wrong?

After stocking up on supplies at the supermarket and buying firewood from local roadside vendors, we head out first thing the following day. Get a bizarre call from the agents before we leave, to advise us that there is a control point 60km away, where they will try to confiscate our meat. Yep our meat. Their advice is to hide it. Surreal…

It’s a long drive to reach Nxai Pan. Goes pretty smoothly, and we manage to get through the checkpoint having stowed our chicken, burgers, and steak in a sleeping bag. Just shy of our campsite, we stop at the gate to check our pitch number and sign in. All is going swimmingly well until we start the car… or rather try to start the car! Not even a flicker from the starter… we’ve been on the road for less than a day and we have a flat battery!

Fortunately we are by the gate, so some helpful locals help push the car into the shade. The bonnet is up as quick as flash, and four enthusiastic amateur mechanics quickly assess the situation. It can’t be the battery they declare, it’s too new. Pretty much every fuse in the car is replaced, before they stand scratching their heads in perplexion…

By now a huge bull elephant is roaming around the huts drinking water from a broken pipe. Jenn is sat in the shade looking anxious… Now I remember why people don’t drive themselves in Africa. I make one last attempt to convince my aides that it’s the battery, before they start stripping down the engine. They reluctantly agree to try a jump start… lo and behold we have lift off!

With the car running we drive the short distance to our pitch. Our agents are en route with a spare battery but it will take hours to make the journey. We decide to make camp for the night. Roof top tent goes up fine, but the ground tent is a tad more challenging, no tent pegs. As a side note, we’ve (or rather Jenn) has decided the roof tent is too small for two people, thus I’m relegated to the ground tent. Manage to get a decent fire going and watch as the elephants roam the camp. There’s something very primal about camping in Africa.

Eventually, a new battery arrives and is exchanged in record time. Jacob looks me up and down approvingly. I’m now suitably attired in outdoor garb and covered in dust, ‘now you look like safari David’ he declares with something akin to pride. Helps us to erect the pegless tent and disappears into the darkness.

Our first meal goes reasonably well. Fun cooking over a real fire. As we sit drinking hot chocolate and congratulating ourselves on a passable meal, the jackals start to appear. They are not the most menacing of beasts, bit like domestic dogs. They are however, extremely scrappy. They are bold to the point of recklessness and show absolutely no fear of Jenn. If only they knew!

An eventful first day, sees an early night. Unidentifiable noises interrupt our sleep, but makes the whole experience very atmospheric.

After packing up the camp, we go on our first game drive. Wide open plains and an easily accessible water hole make it a very memorable drive. The animals here are in great condition. Never seen ostriches quite as large, and with the sheer abundance of elephants and game it is immediately clear why Botswana is so revered.

A decent length drive then takes us further into the pans. We visit the famed Baines Baobabs, and are delighted to discover that our next campsite is directly opposite. We are literally in the middle of nowhere, with no one around for miles. Perfect.

The clouds have been gathering all morning, and it looks for all the world as though the drought is about to break in spectacular fashion. It would make driving extremely challenging, so we selfishly cross our fingers, despite acknowledging that the country desperately needs rain!

The clouds make for a pretty cool time-lapse, and we explore the area with a glass of wine in hand. No jackals this evening, but as ever, some slightly unnerving night-time sounds.

Our next stop is at a lodge. A chance to have a shower! The camping is great fun, but it is extremely dusty. As the pictures below demonstrate, by the time we’ve packed up, I’m liberally coated. Jenn is disgusted to find that she too has not escaped unscathed… 😉

Our lodge overlooks what would ordinarily be a river, but is now being manually maintained via a water pump. Huge numbers of zebra gather on the banks and in the water, whilst elephant appear on rotation. The ground-level hide makes for an interesting place to watch events unfold.

We would happily have stayed longer at the lodge, but duly drive north to our next stop at South Gate in Moremi National Park. The driving thus far has been fine. The area is famed for deep sand, which can be hugely problematic. Our car however, deals with it with aplomb.

After a long game drive, that yields relatively little, we are heading back to camp when we pull over to speak to a local guide. The water hole we were aiming for is completely dry. He highlights that there is no water in the area, a huge problem that will only get worse as they head into summer. He also points out that we have a very flat rear tyre!

Now, I’m not going to lie, a large part of me hopes that he will offer to help us change it. Having had an active AA membership since I was 17, I am slightly abashed to confess that I’ve never had to change a tyre in my life. Sadly, he merely suggests that we use the compressor to reinflate the tyre to get back to our base.

Spend the hour and a bit drive back to camp contemplating the looming dusk and the fact that I get to break my tyre changing duck on a 3-tonne truck! In fairness, changing the tyre isn’t too horrendous, and the only creature that looks to be even remotely interested in my efforts is a bull elephant that is happily drinking from yet another broken pipe nearby. Change the tyre (with Jenn’s assistance), erect two tents, build a fire and collapse. Burgers, kebabs, and a strange concoction of butternut squash, cheese, and chillies, goes down well. As does the single lager, I’d been able to buy from the poorly stocked bottle shop en route. The clouds by now have lifted and the sky is full of stars.

Just as we are contemplating going to bed Jenn hears a rustle. The torchlight reveals an animal we have long wanted to see, a honey badger! It is skittish and disappears once discovered, but we get a decent look at it. Compact creature, that certainly earns the second part of its name. Famously vicious if provoked (they have been known to attack lions when threatened), they are not an animal to be trifled with. Reminds me of a certain someone!

Grab my camera and wait, in the hope that they return. They make several appearances over the next half an hour and are clearly looking for food. Eventually I decide to go and brush my teeth having epically failed to get a decent picture.

When I get back to camp, Jenn and the honey badgers (there are now two of them) appear to be getting along famously. Much like the jackal, they are completely unintimidated by her (more fool them). Whilst I’ve been gone they’ve roamed through the camp, hissed at Jenn, and even contemplated removing the baked potatoes from our fire. They scarper as soon as I return.

Jenn goes to bed and I sit with camera poised, waiting for them to return. With the camp in darkness, I can hear them exploring our bin. Under torch light I can see them climbing the bin and extracting our leftover meal. They subsequently disappear a safe distance with their bounty. I replace the lid and place a large rock on top. It takes both hands to lift it and must weigh close to 10 kilos. 5 minutes later, the honey badgers are back. They flick the rock off without ceremony and are back in the bin. I resign myself to the fact that there is no way to keep them out. Decide to take pictures instead.

We can hear them rummaging about for the rest of the night. Very cool animals but noisy little buggers!

Next morning we continue into Moremi to Xakanaxa, where we are staying for three nights. Beautiful lodge set on the river. Once settled in we head out for an afternoon drive. Nice not to be behind the wheel. Meet two honeymooners from London who will be our companions during our stay.

The first drive is fantastic. We see a large black mamba, male lions on a kill, and the undisputed highlight of our trip thus far, two male cheetahs! We watch the latter as they attempt to get close to kudu and impala without success. Beautiful cats and in fantastic shape. Nothing here looks underfed!

Over the course of the next few days we see a variety of game, and like all experiences in Africa, every day brings something slightly different.

On our last afternoon we take a boat trip along the river and watch as elephant cross. Beautiful place for our final sundowner.

That said, you don’t have to go far from the lodge to see animals. By now we are very used to seeing Oscar, the resident hippo, who frequently roams the lodges and in particular, likes to pass by our room. We are slightly less accustomed to having a huge pel’s fishing owl fly so low over our heads by the fire, that we can feel the wind beneath its wings (cue Bette Midler). It also has a young chick, which is equally enormous!

We both feel more than a little sad to be leaving as we depart next day and say goodbye to our friends.

It’s a lengthy drive to our next stop at the Hyena Pan, in Khwai. The lodge is set overlooking a waterhole and we watch as elephant frolic in the water as we enjoy our welcome drink. Head out that evening to a hide that has been built overlooking a remote, manmade waterhole. Get to observe huge numbers of elephant from the confines of our hide, with G&T in hand. As the sun sets we get stunning views of the elephants as they leave the water and make their way back into the forest.

Game drives start early at the Hyena Pan, with a wake-up call at 5.30am. I’m not overly optimistic about our chances, given that the area is full of dense bush. It is however, a private concession which gives guides latitude about where they can travel, not being restricted to roads and paths.

Our guide, tells us that he found a dead elephant the day before, and suggests we head there. To get to said site requires a decent offroad journey through the bush following his day old tracks. He’d been led there the day before by following vultures.

We can smell the elephant before we see it. Have to cover our noses when downwind, to prevent the scent from becoming overpowering. But what a sight… a large elephant carcass, hundreds of vultures on the ground in the background, and a pack of seven wild dogs!

We have wanted to see wild dogs for years. They have eluded us in Zambia, Namibia, Kenya, and Tanzania. It is the one animal we were most desperate to see! They are also the second most endangered predator in Africa, after the Ethiopian wolf.

On safari, there are sightings, and sightings. This is the latter. Wild dogs are highly successful hunters, boasting one of the highest kill percentages in the animal kingdom. Thus, finding them scavenging is highly unusual. It means that we get to watch them in situ. A dead animal is a dangerous place to stay for a pack of dogs. Although apex predators, a pride of lion would make short work of them if found in the open like this. Thus, they take turns to eat whilst the others stand guard. Dog packs have one alpha pair, with the rest doing their bit to rear the pups and hunt.

We are surprised about a few things. Firstly, they seem very frail. Their legs are somewhat spindly. Secondly, there is no question of anything else approaching the elephant whilst they eat. There are prowling hyena, countless vultures, and jackals all waiting patiently for the dogs to finish. Spindly or not, these dogs are accorded respect in the bush.  

We get a good amount of time with the dogs, who are not in the least concerned about our presence. Once they eventually slope off, all hell breaks loose. The vultures descend en masse, the jackals head in, and the hyena as ever look furtive, but move closer.

It quickly becomes a very macabre, but fascinating scene.

Celebrate with a glass of bubbles over lunch. Amazing morning. We also see a pair of eagle owls and a pride of lion on the way back to the lodge!

That evening we spot the dogs again, sleeping by the roadside. They quickly disappear as we approach, and serve to reinforce how lucky we’d been earlier in the day.

Before we leave the following morning we head back to the site. No dogs this time, but watch with fascination as the jackal feeds. We knew from our experience at camp, that they were fearless, but it’s an amusing sight to see them fighting off the vultures. It’s like something out of a gothic horror film, with the vultures and jackal, venturing deep inside the carcass itself.

Our final night camping, after a long drive through Savuti national park goes without hiccup. The most threatening animal to enter our camp is a spring hare. Super cute. Cross between a rabbit and a kangaroo.

By now our trip is coming to a close and we spend two nights near Kasane, outside the national park, on the banks of the river Chobe. Our final drive in Botswana however has a treat in store for us. After a couple of hours of seeing very little, we come across a male lion by the river. This is quickly followed by some young cubs. Further along the road the rest of an impressive pride is scattered on the flood plains. They have brought down two young buffalo, and a hunting pack of five lionesses is stalking the remainder of an impressive herd.

We watch as the lions pursue and tease the buffalo. Interesting dynamic with the lions constantly testing the herds strength, resulting in some intense face offs. Intriguing to watch the tables reversed, as the large bulls chase away the lions. Even when separated, the lions are not so bold as to attempt to take on the large bulls. With such an abundance of food, there is little point in taking unnecessary risks. The dust they kick up in the dawn light makes for some of my favourite photos of the entire trip.

What an amazing final drive.

Our last afternoon in Botswana is spent on a cruise along the River Chobe, tracing the national park, and separating the country from Namibia. Loads of activity on the water and a beautiful sunset.

Next morning we hand over our car, and make our way for a night in Zimbabwe before transiting through Johannesburg.

As expected, we’ve loved Botswana. As with every other African country we’ve visited, it feels very special. When you are in the wilds it feels like an untouched corner of the world, where a different hierarchy and order of things exist. The wildlife is stunning, and even though there are hard times ahead given the drought the country is facing, it actually all feels like it’s part of the circle of life. Africa is a hard continent, beautiful, but harsh. Life is a battle in this part of the world, and for those of us who merely spectate, it leaves an indelible mark on one’s soul!

Until we return…     

Our flight for Madagascar leaves South Africa early afternoon, which offers a small amount of time in the morning to amuse ourselves.

I’ve been looking for shark’s teeth for as long as I can remember. Every beach I walk on, anywhere in the world, I’m heads down looking through the wash. Never found one. They sell sharks teeth everywhere in Cape Town, but there’s not much by way of guidance on the internet about where to find them. I find one blog post recommending two particular beaches, about 30 minutes from Cape Town. I also watch a video from an American palaeontologist explaining how to maximise one chances of success. Equipped with this knowledge we head out. We have an hour, I’m researched, surely success is guaranteed…

First beach we visit yields no results. Quel surprise. Second looks to be going the same way, and I am about to resign myself to leaving this childhood ambition unfulfilled, when I see a triangular shape in the sand. Low and behold, it’s a fossilised shark tooth, and a pretty perfect one at that! So chuffed, I do an embarrassing victory jig on the beach!

The tooth is either from an extinct form of white shark, or an extinct species of mako. To turn as black as my sample, takes a minimum of 10,000 years, and is in all likelihood much, much older than that. It’s an incredibly tactile item, and you can feel the history in it. I love it! Feel very chuffed.

Feeling victorious, after a two-hour flight, we have a night in Johannesburg before our flight to Tana in Madagascar next day. Enough time to repack our stuff into soft cases – a prerequisite.

Madagascar is a pretty interesting place. It is roughly two and a half times the size of the UK, and much like Australia and New Zealand, home to a myriad of endemic species. Approximately 75% of the country is below the poverty line, and whilst it has circa 107 species of lemur, with current rates of deforestation it is predicted that lemurs will be extinct by 2070. 

We spend a night in capital city of Tana, ahead of driving to Andasibe. It’s a long drive of nearly 5 hours, but a good opportunity to get a feel for the country. As one would expect everything is very green, with constant reminders of the poverty statistics. Feel more than a little guilty as a number of people bang on the car windows asking for money and food. A little intense, but it ceases as we reach the countryside.

We make a stop at a small private park. Within minutes our guide has found us two rather lovely coquerel’s sifaka lemurs. The lemurs are wild, but very used to humans, and grateful for the bananas that are proffered. Lemurs are primates, but evolved independently from monkeys and apes. They grab our hands in an almost childlike way to take the fruit offered. They are super cute. If truth be told, I’d never been particularly excited about the prospect of seeing lemurs, but quickly change my mind when confronted with them.

We are then shown a dizzying number of chameleons, snakes, giant moths, and frogs. Whilst closer to a zoo than a park experience, it is great to see these weird and wonderful creatures up close. Whilst you might hope to see them in the wild, they are so well camouflaged, that even with a trained eye, they must be almost impossible to spot. After 90 minutes, we feel as though we have been thoroughly spoiled.

Once at our lodge we arrange a night walk to look for the elusive mouse lemur. Eventually find one on our way home. It makes us work for a good view, and we have to traipse through sodden forest, to reach a vantage point. Easy to see how it earned its name – teeny tiny.

Next day we head into Analamazaotra national park with our guide. Secondary forest, but home to a number of lemur species. Start the morning with a nice spotting of brown and eastern bamboo lemurs. Highlight without doubt though was watching a troop (collective noun) of diademed sifaka, as they climb down to eat soil. We get to within a few feet and it was amazing to watch them go about their business without the least concern.

Last sighting of the day was the Indri, largest species of lemur, and strangely tailless. The noise they make when calling to each other can exceed 85 decibels and can carry for three kilometres.

We feel like we’ve been very lucky, a fact confirmed by our guide. Apparently, you can hike through the jungle for days without seeing more than a few glimpses of the lemurs. They can certainly put on a burst of speed when they choose to.

There’s plenty to explore back at the lodge and I even manage to find a praying mantis.

Following day we head into Mantadia. This is primary forest and at 16,000 hectares, it is a huge space. We are looking for white ruffed lemurs. Lemurs are not only endemic to Madagascar, but they are also endemic to certain regions.

We are really made to work for our sighting, wading through thick jungle, to reach our prize. Worth the effort though, very nice looking lemurs, with their huge tails making them look larger than they actually are. Tired and happy, it’s an hour and a half return trip over bone shaking roads back to the lodge. Our guide spots a giraffe weevil on the underside of a leaf as we are driving. How he saw it, I will never know.

Next morning it’s back to Tana. Six-hour drive, owing to the number of slow moving lorries that we have to navigate. 

The following day is an early start, 4.45am finds us in a cab to the airport. We have a two-and-a-half-hour charter flight to reach Masoala. Interesting journey. Contrast between the logged agricultural land, and the prime forests near our destination is very marked.

Once we’ve landed it’s a 40-minute drive and then a one hour boat trip to reach our lodge. This is not an easy place to get to! At the airport we briefly meet two Americans who have just spent three days at the lodge. They seemingly had a great time and had two pieces of advice for us, ‘get used to being wet,’ and ‘don’t bother trying to look cute.’ Noted on both fronts.

The sea is rough, the rain sets in, and one is very definitely reminded of the reason that this is known as a humid rainforest. The lodge is designed to reflect an African safari, with raised tents and outdoor bathrooms. As with other humid forests we’ve visited, everything is damp. Given that the forecast is rain, that it has been raining for two weeks, and that there is a brief lull in proceedings, I decide to go snorkelling. See an adult lion fish, which is a pretty impressive size.

That evening we go for a night walk. See woolly lemurs, northern bamboo lemurs, and giant leaf geckos. The latter are apparently very rare. Come across two of these, purportedly rare, reptiles fighting. Strange contest. Dominance is demonstrated, by one male capturing the other’s head in its mouth! Subsequently see a sleeping madagascan malachite kingfisher sleeping, and an unidentified snake when filling my water bottle later that evening. Although there is a book of reptiles at the lodge, there are so many snakes here, that many only have Latin names. Very clear that there is an absolute tonne of life in and around this forest.

Jenn is up early the next day for yoga. I decide to go for a stroll. See a beautiful malachite kingfisher, and the strangest little hedgehog-like creature. The photos don’t do it justice. Imagine an easter chick with a long nose, that’s basically what it looks like. It is in fact a lowland streaked tenrec. Quite possibly one of the cutest things I’ve seen in 11 months. The locals however, are fond of eating them!

We journey later in the morning into the primary rainforest of Masoala national park. To cut a long story short, it is wet and hard work. After a very damp boat trip, we traipse through streams, and into dense patches of undergrowth. Our quarry today is the red ruffed lemur, which can only be found in this park. Despite our guide’s best efforts, our reward for three and a half hours? Drenched clothing and one solitary bird, that I didn’t even get a full shot of!

The night walk is far more rewarding, get good shots of the sportive lemur.

We try again in the primary forest next day. It’s slightly less wet as we make our way by boat to the entrance.

After about an hour, our guide tells us to wait, while he searches a particular area. 5 minutes later he’s back with a smile on his face. He took yesterday’s epic failure very personally! 😉 After a bit of elbowing through the forest we are rewarded with a red ruffed lemur. After a while it decides to move, comes onto a branch, and looks straight at us. This is the money shot. Clear line of sight and nice lighting! I raise my camera ready to take an award winning photo. Look through the eyepiece expectantly…

Nothing but fog.

Take a piece of tissue and try to wipe the lens. Still fog.

After 11 months, over 30 countries and an average of 8 hours use a day, my camera has let me down. The weatherproof lens was clearly not tested in the rainforest. The humidity has somehow got into the lens itself. I can’t believe it.

The lemur happily watches as Jenn and I bicker with each other. Jenn is of the opinion that the lens has broken because I exposed it to too much rain yesterday. She is full of useful retrospective advice about how I could have avoided said incident. There is much shaking of heads. I point out that her assessment is somewhat unfair. Our guide, whose English isn’t great, helpfully tuts and says ‘camera broken’ on repeat. I feel like climbing up the tree and sitting with the lemur!

Couldn’t have come at a worse time. Botswana is our next, and last stop!

We leave the scene and make our way back towards the waiting boat – still bickering obviously. On the way we meet a guide and some German travellers who have been looking for the red ruff for four days without success. We point them in the right direction and head on our way. After twenty minutes or so, I resignedly point my camera at a nearby tree. Miraculously it has cleared. The respite in the rain has clearly allowed it to dry!

We make a u-turn and head back to the lemur. Our new German friends are at the site. The lemurs aren’t as obliging as they had been earlier, but I get some decent enough shots.

On Friday nights the staff join guests for a traditional dinner. The table cloth and spoons are made from local leaves – and in place of plates we eat directly off the leaves. We’d been shown how to make said spoons by our guide that afternoon. Makes cleaning up easy, once we’re done, everything is rolled up and thrown away. 100% recyclable.

The owner also joins us. Interesting to hear about the trials and tribulations of owning a lodge in such a remote and unforgiving part of the world. Enjoy his descriptions of the various photographers and wildlife enthusiasts that have journeyed here over the years – the ‘moth people’, the ‘spider people’, the ‘snake people,’ and so on. I would imagine if you ever wanted to lend your name to a yet undiscovered form of fauna or flora, this would be a good place to start.  

Lie on our slightly damp beds that evening, listening to the waves crash and the rain pour. It’s probably not for everyone, but it is truly atmospheric.

As expected, our last day in the rainforest is a complete wash out. A tropical storm north of the area has sent a bank of clouds and heavy rain. Even if we could go for walk, any creature with a shred of sense would be hiding somewhere dry. Spend the day editing photos, writing my blog, and watching those fool hardy enough (which included Jenn) try the impromptu beach sauna.

We wake next day to find that the rain is still coming down in torrents. As much as I love the wildlife here, I am not overly sad to be leaving. Haven’t been dry for four days, and everything smells of damp. One of the most amazing wildlife destinations we have ever visited, but it is hard work, at this time of year! To reinforce the point, as we drive back to the domestic airport, the water is so high in the village that it comes through the raised back door of our 4×4. Feel for the locals, the unseasonably heavy rain will have ruined crops.

Brief layover in Johannesburg, before our final stop in Botswana! The end of our trip is nigh!

Sometimes travelling feels like hard work – first world problem I know! As we sit at the tiny café at Inhambane airport, waiting for our plane to arrive, it becomes very apparent that we will not be making our connecting flight at Johannesburg. As one might imagine, everything in Mozambique is pretty laid back, and the attitude clearly extends to the airline, who don’t even acknowledge that we are two hours delayed.

Once at Johannesburg, we find that we have missed the next two flights. Path of least resistance is to just to book with another airline – fortunately flights to Cape Town are cheap here. Eventually arrive late in the evening. Meet some lovely people outside the hotel who are stoned, drunk, and delightfully happy about the fact that they are headed to the AfrikaBurn festival. Seemingly its an excuse to pretend one is in a dystopian future where the only thing left is trippy art installations in the desert! It sounds like Mad Max on acid. Jenn receives a massive hug from one of the girls. That kind of infectious joy can’t help but put a smile of your face, even after a long day of travelling.

We spend the morning knocking around the waterside in Cape Town. It’s a beautiful day and we wander through the newly established and trendy neighbourhoods, watch as three massive tractors try to gently encourage an enormous ship into the water, and make our way to the main harbour front. We were last here 13 years ago and have fond memories.

Our memories have not betrayed us, it really is a beautiful place. Loads of lovely shops, bars, and restaurants line the harbour, whilst seals frolic in the water, all overlooked by Table Mountain. On a sunny day, there is perhaps nowhere nicer in the world to stroll around or sit with a glass of wine.

That afternoon we head to Camps Bay. We’ve hired a car and plan to drive along the coast whilst spending a few days in different Airbnbs. After 11 months on the go, I think this has become our favourite way to travel. No flights, no lugging cases into hotels. With a case in the boot, and a case on the backseat, we just grab what we need, when we need it. Airbnbs also provide space. May sound daft, but it is so nice to have a living room and somewhere you can sprawl out. Our Airbnb in Camps Bay overlooks the beach, with the Twelve Apostles looming above us.

We hike up Lions Head, which is a short drive away and offers great views over the area. For the most part it’s a pretty straightforward walk, although about three quarters of the way up, one is offered the choice between a recommended route, and a more challenging option, involving chains and ladders. We opt for the latter. The morning rain however, has made everything a bit slippery which makes it more of an adventure than it might otherwise be. Having done 99% of the hard work we reach a section that is a stretch for me at 6’1”, but a massive stretch for Jenn. Given that the tread on her now well-worn boots is on its last legs, she decides the view is good enough from where we are.

Get back down, just in time to head out for dinner with a former colleague, Karel. Stupidly forget to take a photo, but a very nice evening of excellent steak and red wine.

Our next stop is in Simons Town. We break up a moderate drive, at Noordhoek beach, which is absolutely enormous and stretches for miles. Apparently there is a ship wreck on the beach somewhere, but we never get anywhere near it.

A short drive away, Boulders Beach offers the opportunity to visit endangered African Penguins. Our first. and last, penguins of the trip. Surprisingly pungent little creatures, but very cute, particularly given that there are a good number of chicks amongst them. African penguins mate for life and return to the same nesting site year after year. Sweet!

Check into our Airbnb for the evening which is set high above the ocean and backing onto a nature reserve, before heading into the Cape National Park. Although it’s late in the afternoon, we manage to hike up to the lighthouse at the Cape of Good Hope and celebrate with pictures of the most south westerly point in Africa. The rocks are packed with seals.

On the way back we come across 4 ostrich. An unexpected treat. Family unit of four birds, male, female and two juveniles. Also spot some eland (largest species of antelope in the world). Reminder of what an amazing country this is – so full of life.

In the morning we are joined by the three resident dogs who roam our Airbnb, all of whom desperately jostle for attention, whilst frightening away the incredibly beautiful malachite sunbirds that frequent the gardens. Eventually manage to get some pictures, despite the dogs, really stunning.

Next stop on our road trip is in Gansbaai. The entire drive is stunning. The road hugs the coast for mile after mile. Of all of the coastal drives over the last 11 months, I think this is the most scenic. That said, this is a country with pretty significant social and economic problems. We’ve seen shanty towns in the past, but South Africa’s are on a different scale to anything we’ve seen previously. One particular town, stretches for miles. It’s a sobering reminder of the unequal distribution of wealth in this part of the world.

The reason for coming to this part of the coast is to try and see great white sharks. Although, a little bit of further research suggests that sightings are increasingly rare. 10 years ago, the area was prolific, and one of the best areas in the world to share the water with the feared predator. However, Orcas began to arrive en masse, hunting the juvenile sharks. Scientists are still not sure why. In any event, the result is that the shark behaviour has been disrupted and numbers have materially declined. Bugger!

I write to a diving company who tell me that they haven’t seen great whites since September. They have however, seen Bronze Whaler sharks which can grow up to 3.5m long.

Spend our first day strolling along the coast, which is rugged and full of sea birds.

That evening, I write again to see what the sightings have been like over the last couple of days. Amazingly they’ve seen great whites both days.

So at 8am the following day, we are stood outside Sharklady Tours, along with fellow enthusiasts waiting to head out. Get a full brief about what to expect and how to ensure that we return with limbs intact. We are headed out into the open ocean, where the cage is secured to the side of the boat. Up to four divers can enter the cage at anyone time. When the spotters see a shark, the cage residents, hold their breath and drop beneath the water. The water incidentally, is a mere 12 degrees centigrade. For the avoidance of doubt, that is pretty damn cold.

We head out in almost windless conditions, with gulls following in our wake.

The methods of attracting sharks here are somewhat controversial, leaving a trail of chum, to encourage the sharks curiosity. I say its controversial, because I’ve heard different accounts from different marine biologists. Have to wait a decent amount of time before a shark graces us with its presence. Decent size bronze whaler. The first four divers duly enter the water.

Jenn and I have decided to go separately to maximise our chances of one of us seeing something. Jenn, for some unknown reason, is keen to go first. I have to confess, watching her get in, is pretty damn funny. The water is clearly freezing cold, and lets just say that Jenn lets her feelings be known! I am very glad to be sat on deck. After a while Jenn has either frozen, or accepted her fate, as the noise has subsided. They seem to be in the water a long time, but are rewarded with a shark coming very close to the cage, ‘Down’ shouts the spotter on the deck. They all bob under water. Funny to watch, particularly given that one guy seems to get his timing wrong each time, coming up as everyone else is going down!

From the deck, it’s easy to see the sharks. Seemingly from the water it is less easy. Visibility is clearly pretty poor, and so despite getting freezing cold, it’s a modest return on effort.

I watch as a whole bunch of others enter the water, most of whom see very little. All of whom though come out freezing cold.

I decide that I won’t bother. I see little point. Normally my fear of missing out, overcomes my reluctance, but on this occasion, I decide I’m not missing much. The fact that there are South African box jelly fish in the water does little to convince me that I’m making an error of judgement.

By the time we head back the waves and wind are up and it’s a bit of an adventure holding on as we cut through the waves. Jenn is pleased that she went in, and in fairness, she had the best sighting. I am very pleased with my own decision. Had a great white shown up, I would have had a crack, but in their absence, warm and dry seemed like the better part of valour.

All too soon we are packing up to move on to the wine region. Feel sad to be leaving this stretch of coast. Although the sharks may have stayed away, the coast itself is stunning and the fact that we were able to wander along it for hours without meeting another human soul made for a tranquil and relaxing experience.

As ever the drive is incredible. Open farmland stretches ahead in all directions with the mountains as a backdrop. Can’t help but contrast the scene with the shanty town we passed several days back. All this land in the hands of a few wealthy owners. It’s not surprising that resentment is so high. I have no idea how one begins to fix the challenges here – the scale of the problem is massive.

Our final Airbnb is in Franschhoek. We are spoilt for space and both wish that we were staying a little longer. Spend our couple of days eating, drinking, and hiking. So many good vineyards in and around the area.

There are also a goodly number of art galleries. Of course, I’ve already bought too much art on this trip, so although I can window shop, buying anything is out of the question…

There’s some nice stuff in the galleries, but it’s expensive and a lot of it is by international artists. On the opposite side of the street are a collection of local stalls. Far less glamorous and with handmade and hand-painted local goods.

Meet the mother of a local artist whose work we had seen in Camps Bay. It stood out amongst the rest – clearly very talented. Despite my resolve I buy two small pictures, and I’m grateful that she doesn’t have any of his larger work. We speak for a while and she tells me that it’s very hard to motivate your children, hence the lack of bigger pieces. I have an image of a truculent teenager. I enquire about his age – he’s 29!

I return to the same stalls the following day, after a good lunch and a couple of glasses of wine. There are new artists in situ. Three huge paintings immediately catch my eye. Again, they just speak to me, against the rest of the local art. I get talking to the artist who painted them. Really nice guy. I explain that I have no more wall space and that I wouldn’t be able to get something of that size home. There is just no way I can buy any more art…

Goes without saying that five minutes later I have purchased three huge pictures, which are rolled up under my arm. Even though I know I’m in a lot of trouble – I like them and it’s nice to put some money in local hands.

Can’t help but think that it would be an interesting experiment to take the best local artists, set them up in a plush space on the right side of the street, frame the work nicely, and offer the pomp and ceremony of a galleried experience. I might be wrong, but I suspect the work would sell well, that the artists could add a zero to their prices, and the punters would still get a bargain.

Whilst I have been making unsanctioned purchases and daydreaming, Jenn has been happily buying ice-cream and returns to find me holding a huge tube and looking guilty. I have no defence. I slink off a few minutes later, berated, with my tail between my legs to send my new purchases back to the UK.

On our final day in South Africa we head out for a decent hike around the Bregs Dam – beautiful spot and makes us more than a little sad to be leaving.

Madagascar beckons – our penultimate stop! One month to go until we return to reality. TAFN.

It’s funny how things pan out sometimes. Originally we were planning to spend this week in Ethiopia. However, the situation out there is pretty unstable and although it would probably have been fine, the region we wanted to visit is bright red on the FTA site, which was enough to deter us. We then planned to spend the time in Jordan, but the Israeli conflict put paid to that idea. Thus, we find ourselves heading to Mozambique. It’s on overnight flight to Johannesburg, a layover, and then two short hops firstly to the capital Maputo, and then to Inhambane. The world still feels like a pretty big place at times!

We are staying in a simple lodge on the beach in a place called Tofo beach. Feels a little like Sri Lanka, a little like the Caribbean, and bizarrely, with the sand dunes and long stretches of beach, a little like Cornwall!

We’ve come to this particular spot because it is renowned for its mega-fauna ocean safaris. After our failure to see whale sharks in both Australia, and the Maldives, this is our last chance on this trip.

We immediately book ourselves onto an ocean safari the next day. Such is Jenn’s desire to see the sharks, that she even talks about booking two tours back-to-back, morning and afternoon. As it happens, that’s not possible owing to logistics.

It’s not really whale shark season, although they are found year-round in the waters here. The dive centre board, highlighting sightings, suggests that a couple have been seen relatively recently. We are told that there are some around but sightings are rare.

We wake to an absolutely perfect day. The sky is blue and the water looks relatively calm. It’s famed here for being a little rough! We stroll along the beach in the morning. It’s beautiful and stretches for miles in both directions. The only downside is the amount of plastic that has washed up from the ocean. It marks the high-water line and is a very sad sight. I don’t know how much plastic there is here, but it would take a gargantuan effort to clear.

Having made our way to the dive centre we find that there will only be 5 guests on our boat. A small but perfectly formed group.  There are no jetties here, so getting the boat in the water is not easy and requires a tractor, and the males in the group to lend their support to push the boat through the sand and into the water. It’s then a bit of a mission to climb onto the RIB requiring a heave and a belly flop over the sides. No marks for grace and elegance here.

It’s fun getting over the breakers and we get drenched making our way out. But soon enough we are all scanning the horizon for dark shapes under the water. We have one false sighting that sees everyone don masks and fins, only to discover that the dark shape was something else (still not sure what).

The disappointment is palpable, not least from my wife!

Fortunately, the Gods smile upon us, and disappointment turns to elation when shortly afterwards we find a whale shark! It is a very cool animal and well worth the wait. It is completely unperturbed by our presence, swimming gracefully along with its gaping mouth open collecting the plankton. Whale sharks can measure up to 20 metres in length, weigh over 20 tonnes, and have a mouth that is over a meter wide. Incredible to think they don’t eat anything bigger than a finger nail!

No need to free dive to see this one, swims very close to the surface.

We decide after a while to leave it in peace and head out looking for more. We next come across a large male. Seems whale sharks are like buses! You wait for 11 months and then they all come at once!

We manage to see 7 whale sharks in total!

Favourite sighting was towards the end of the trip, when we see three sharks swimming in a large shoal of jumping fish. Was mesmerising swimming through the wall of fish and then watching the shark appear behind them with mouth wide.

The sharks can be a little disconcerting. They are perfectly happy to swim alongside you, and in fact, often turn towards you, reducing the recommended distance of 3 metres to a matter of a few feet. Jenn admitted that she was more than a little concerned about being swallowed by one! I can fully understand why.

Amazing day. One of the best experiences of our trip. So pleased that Jenn finally got to see them. Clearly, we were meant to come to Mozambique and her persistence paid off.

Following day is a day of rest after our previous triumph. Having now seen the whale sharks Jenn is in full on relaxation mode. I however, can only sit and relax for so long, roughly five minutes in fact… So, that afternoon, I enquire about fishing. There are multiple options for the following morning, but by far the best value, is to go out with the locals. I decide that sounds like fun…

The locals go out early, which means a 4.30am wake up call. It’s still dark as we head down the beach, with the sun rising just before we arrive at the boats. I say boats…

My previous fishing trips have always been on day cruisers, with toilets, and enough space for a sizeable group to make themselves comfortable with a beer, whilst waiting for the fish to bite. I’m not sure what I was expecting when I envisioned the local fishing boats. I’m pretty confident however that it wasn’t this…

The boat is tiny. I’m reminded of Jaws and could well sympathise with Brody when he suggested that ‘we’re going to need a bigger boat.’

Too late to back out now. There are three of us going out. The skipper and his mate. Neither of them speak any English, so we get by, by pointing, smiling, and using improvised sign language. The boat is a dead weight so pushing it through the sand at 5.30 am feels like a rude awakening.

Once in the boat things don’t really improve. The wind is up, the waves are rough, and getting through the breakers with a small engine is really hard work. The waves break over the boat and I’m drenched in seconds, trying to get stinging salt water out of my eyes, and contemplating my life choices. Sitting on a plank and holding onto anything I can find, it feels like this will be a long morning.

Eric, the skipper, tells me, using the aforementioned method of communication, that the current is strong today, the waves bigger than normal, and its ‘not good for fish.’ Excellent!

To think that Jenn will be lying in bed ahead of a leisurely breakfast and maybe a dip in the pool, when she could have been enjoying 7 hours of fishing! She’ll kick herself! Hmm…

I’ve been allocated a rod. One of four lines that we drag through the water as we jostle our way over the waves. When the sun comes out it feels almost pleasant (almost), but when it goes behind the clouds, the sea looks black, and the waves slightly menacing. The fact that the boat is about a foot out of the water at the back, is not a source of great comfort. I take advantage of the few patches of sun to take a selfie. I’m struck by the difference between reality and the impression captured by the photo.

After an hour or two of trailing our lines uselessly through the water, we cast anchor. I say anchor, it’s actually a repurposed rock, with a home-made, knotted line. It does however do the job. We attempt some ground fishing. A few strikes, but nothing catches.

With our spirits fading and Eric every so often pointing out the obvious – ‘no fish,’ it starts to rain. Brilliant. Still, only another 3 or 4 hours to go.  

By now even my two companions are starting to look pretty miserable. Eric suggests that we make our way home. I am in full agreement!

On our way in we spot a large group of gulls, and Eric, ever the professional, heads in that direction. Sure enough, and to his credit, we manage to land a reasonable size, yellow fin tuna!

The other locals are having an equally torrid time of it. Thus a flotilla of small boats start to make their way back to the beach. Getting in is even worse than coming out. I am drenched by the time my feet are back on terra firma.

Assist pulling three boats to the top of the beach before I am given permission to leave. It’s only 10.20am, but feels like I’ve been out there all day. Gratefully retreat to the lodge for a late breakfast.

As ever, once back at the lodge, it all feels like a great adventure! Note to self, if invited to go out with locals fishing in the future, politely decline.

The following day we head out looking for sea horses. We’ve never seen one. They are surprisingly difficult to spot when snorkelling, and far more frequently seen by divers. There is an estuary however, where the chance of finding them is pretty high.

We arrive at a mangrove beach. At hightide the water clearly comes up a long way. We drive across the sand before walking the remainder of the way. Our snorkelling site is only a few feet deep, and with the wind up, and sun disappearing frequently behind cloud, it’s a tad chilly.

I don’t think much of the water on first impression. It’s brown and murky. However, as my eyes adjust and we start to explore, we discover that it is actually a very unique ecosystem, unlike anything we’ve snorkelled in before. We spot a small lion fish, which is another first for Jenn.

We then start to find sea horses. They are a reasonable size, and fairly inactive. They are not at all bothered by us and happily sit grazing on the bottom of the sand. They look a little forlorn to me. Not sure how a fish can look forlorn, but they manage it, in the style of Eeyore.

There are also some impressive sea urchins, black with vivid red markings. Have to say that I’m normally happier seeing sea urchins when I’m separated from them by more than just a few inches of water. With large mud crabs disappearing into the sand at regular intervals, and in the knowledge that there are poisonous conk shells in the area, I’m even more keen that normal not to touch anything.

After snorkelling we wander back through the mangroves and spot some rather lovely pink flamingos! Another really nice trip, and with great young local guides.

We are due to leave Mozambique at 11am next day. Just enough time for a last minute 7.30am ocean safari. Jenn declines. The wind is up again as I walk down the beach, half expect them not to go out. As it is when we arrive, they declare that it’s safe. Just as we are about to push the boat out, the owner comes up and says ‘it’s safe to go out, but you should know that it is going to be very bumpy, so it’s up to you.’ Everyone else seems happy to go, so we head out. To cut a long story short, it’s rough, wet and we see absolutely nothing! Merely serves to underscore how lucky we got on our first day.

As we head back to Johannesburg for our connecting flight to Cape Town we reflect on what a great few days it has been. Mozambique is a beautiful place, people are friendly, and the whale shark experience we had was definitely one of the many highlights of our trip. Can’t help but think about all that plastic though. It’s so sad what we’ve done to our oceans.

Next stop, South Africa!      

After all of our fun and frolics in the UAE we are left with a mere two nights in Oman! Had we not been flying from Muscat to Johannesburg, I think we would likely have saved Oman for another time. Equally, had we not already booked Mozambique, we may have skipped the latter and extended in Oman. As it is, we find ourselves on an early flight from Abu Dhabi to Muscat (despite the fact that we had booked flights for May rather than April).

Our driver collects us from the airport, and recants his own experiences of the recent flooding. Oman had similar weather to Dubai and fared fared worse, in as far as human casualties were concerned – with 20 people losing their lives. The impact of the flooding will take a while to redress, with several of the roads we would otherwise taken closed, and certain natural landmarks transformed in a less than positive way, by the water.

What makes it slightly frustrating is that Oman looks beautiful. Muscat looks different to anywhere we’ve been before and the combination of architecture, sea, and blue sky, against a mountainous backdrop makes for a very aesthetic. albeit lengthy drive.

We drive to a desert camp for the evening, making several stops along the way. What should have been a 2.5 hour drive, ends up being over 5 hours due to the road closures.

We arrive in time for sunset on the sand dunes. Sand is incredibly fine and makes it easy for the wind to sculpt. Worth the long drive!

Following day we head of to the mountains. Another lengthy drive, but not before taking some photos with a friendly resident camel.

En route we stop at a small village dating back c. 400 years. Watch towers remain, as do the skeletons of some of the houses, which were still occupied until relatively recently, when the new village was constructed. Interesting to see the fusion of new and old.

Also visit Ayn village. Impressive terraces, full of roses. Walk along the ingenious irrigation system. Very aesthetic, and a place so noteworthy that even Princess Di visited it when in the region back in the 80s.

The temperature in the mountains when we arrive is significantly cooler, given the elevation. The hotel grounds are just what the doctor ordered. Great spot to relax. Definitely wish we were staying a little longer. The moon is too full to take full advantage of the star gazing, but it is nice nonetheless.

We go for a short stroll in the morning. Oman has a lot of wildlife to offer, although, again, after the rains it’s fairly quiet. The views themselves however, make the walk well worth while.

All too soon we are back on the road and head to Nizwa castle and fort. Learn that such is the abundance of dates in this part of the world, that, rather than relying on boiling water or oil, defenders would pour molten date juice on attackers through murder holes!

Also visit a local souq where amongst the myriad of dates on offer, one can also find such exotic offerings as myrrh and frankincense.

Temperature is much hotter than in the mountains, and glad that we are not visiting in the summer when the mercury can rise to 50 degrees Celsius!

Grand mosque in Muscat looks like its well worth a visit as we pass in the car. Serves to reinforce that this is a place where we needed more time. It’s not a crazy distance from the UK, so suspect we will likely return in the not too distant future. Would make a very nice week of winter sun.

With that it is onwards to Mozambique for a few days of beach and snorkelling.

Given the ongoing issues between Iran and Israel, we elected to abandon our planned trip to Jordan, in favour of safer destinations. Whilst Jordan was unlikely to be pulled into any subsequent conflict, we did not want to find ourselves stuck if they decided to close their airspace. So we opt for an early morning flight from Tajikistan to Dubai, and then a short hop from Dubai to Muscat.

What could possibly go wrong…

We have to be up at 4am for our flight. Unfortunately at 2am Jenn wakes up and is sick multiple times. Two hours later, it’s touch and go whether she will feel well enough to get on the flight. She decides to push on and see how she feels at the airport.

Looking white as a sheet, but improved, we decide to at least make the first leg to Dubai. We know that the problem is digestive rather than anything more untoward or contagious.  

First leg of the journey goes without a glitch. Land and make our way through arrivals with the uber high-tech slickness that we have come to expect from Dubai International Airport. Literally takes minutes to get through automated gates at immigration, collect our bags, and re-enter departures for our next flight. It’s a model of operational efficiency.

Check-in is straight forward, security swift, and we find ourselves ensconced in an airport restaurant in record time. Why can’t more airports be this slick? Jenn is still feeling rough, but continuing to improve.

Board the plane on time, and I’m pleased to find a ready selection of films that I quite fancy watching. Shame it’s only a one hour flight. As they say, careful what you wish for…

We seem to be sat on the tarmac for an age. The rain gradually gets heavier and we are updated by the captain regularly about our status. Seemingly the bad weather is resulting in delays, but we are gradually making our way through the queue. Just as we reach our take-off slot, we are told that the airport is suspending operations owing to the storm. In fairness, it is pretty biblical outside, so not entirely surprised that flights are delayed.

By now I’m happily watching Wonka. Highbrow stuff! 😉

As the hours roll by, the airline decides to switch the crew. Presumably, they have worked longer than their legal shift. A new crew is found and we are ready to leave on the next available slot. At that point a passenger decides for whatever reason that they want to leave the plane. We are delayed as the police are called. Not entirely sure what the outcome is, but regardless, it means we miss our departure and have to queue again.

Next, they ask if there is a doctor on the plane. Resist the urge to raise my hand, as pretty sure that they don’t need any support with business administration! A lady is subsequently shepherded to the front of the plane, clearly feeling unwell.

Yet more hours pass. We are told the flight has been cancelled. Quel surprise!

A bus arrives to take us back to the terminal, but the staff decide that it is too dangerous to descend the steps in the rain! Questionable.

When challenged, we are told that we can leave if we choose, but unless the entire plane leaves, we will be sat on a bus instead of on the plane. Hobsons Choice. Jenn is keen to sit on the bus. As ever, it would have been a good call, as the bus subsequently returns to the terminal empty. I however, figured we were better of waiting on the plane. Means my viewing pleasure is interrupted for the next hour or so with Jenn feeling the need to remind me ‘that we should have got the bus’…

By now we have been on the tarmac for around 6 hours. Jenn has made her feelings known to the staff in no uncertain terms and we are offered one of only four seats on a transport back to the terminal, if we leave NOW! NB: Think they would have carried her off if it meant being rid of her.

We decide to take the proffered transport. Feel a tad guilty as we leave the plane, but most of the other passengers, for whatever reason seem quite content to wait. Perhaps they are watching Wonka. There is at least 3 inches of standing water as we wade to the terminal. Impressive!

We have been booked on a flight the following morning at 7am. Our luggage will be transferred by the airline. So only hand luggage to deal with. Result.

The airline informs us that all hotels are full. They will try and find us something, but could take hours, and there are no promises. Brilliant!

We do a quick Google search and find a room within minutes. Left to wonder why it’s so hard for the airline staff to do the same thing. This is not our first rodeo though, and we know better than to rely on the stressed airline staff.

On our way through arrivals it is very clear that the storm has been worse than we thought. The infrastructure has clearly not been designed for the amount of rain it has received.

Once in arrivals we find that there are no Ubers, no taxis, and the only practical way of leaving the airport is via bus to a metro station. Our hotel is a manageable walk away from a station, so seems like a reasonable plan.

On the roads it becomes apparent that there are bigger issues here than just the chaos at the airport. The roads are completely flooded, with several feet of water covering the tarmac, and already there are a good number of cars that have been abandoned on the roads.

We arrive at the metro, buy tickets, and board a train. One stop later we are told the train is not in service. Brilliant! Staff have no idea when, or if, the metro will be operational again.

Exit the station to find the pavements and roads flooded in all directions. No taxis, no metro, no buses. No choices.

We remove shoes and socks and start wading through the flood water. Majority of locals are doing the same, although they at least are wearing sandals. Bare foot not a great idea in dark flood water.

Our hotel is an unachievable distance away. Pot holes in the dark make it pretty treacherous. Conditions are getting worse not better, so Jenn makes the executive decision to stop at the first hotel we come across. We pay a premium for the room, but who cares? By now it is 10pm. We’ve tried planes, trains, and automobiles during our 18 hour journey. Remember, all of this is against a backdrop of Jenn not feeling well!

Set the alarm for 4am again, in the hope, rather than the expectation, that we might fly next morning.

Sure enough when the alarm goes off at 4am, we check and find that the flight has been cancelled. We are dully rebooked on a flight at 14.35. Back to sleep.

When we wake there are no comms. Literally none. Can’t get through to the airline – no great surprise. Equally, there are no communication banners on Dubai International Airport’s webpage, and no one in the hotel has any idea which way is up.

I have a friend in Dubai who keeps me informed with local news. Seems that 10 inches of rain have fallen in 24 hours, resulting in conditions not seen in over 70 years. Of course, Dubai was a damn-sight smaller back then. Third party video footage is impressive.

Ironically, from the window of our hotel, all looks relatively calm. Aside from major roads being closed. The sky is blue.

Decide that we should try and make our way to the airport, not least because if we have our luggage, we have options. Also, it seems the only way to get any reliable info. Our flight stills shows with the airline website as leaving on time. Hmmm.

No cabs running. We are advised to walk to the metro and get closer to the airport before walking. Walk back along the path we took the night before. Looks somewhat different! What a difference a day makes.

Arrive at said metro to find it is closed. Brilliant!

Airport is less than three miles away. My view, is push on through to the airport. Jenn has other ideas, but reluctantly agrees. I am now in the danger zone, we are following my plan, against Jenn’s advisement.

Quickly becomes apparent that this is not going to be easy. Although parts of Dubai look fine, others are under water. The only way through is to wade.

In fairness, the water, for the large part, is clear enough to see where one is treading. So we keep going. The kindness of strangers is a mixed blessing. Lots of advice about best ways to walk. Invariably, the local advice results in us meeting an unpassable point, turning back and headed back the way we were planning to walk.

It’s all more than a little dystopian. The number of broken down cars is epic.

With tempers fraying, we get within a few hundred metres of the airport. Sods Law, it’s the deepest part of the flood water. Jenn would be practically submerged in the attempt. The red airport radar, rotates in the foreground, reminiscent of the eye of Sauron in LORs. Certainly wish I had hobbit feet at this moment in time.

Just as I might be tempted to abandon hope… a local in a 4×4 stops and asks where we are trying to get to. Incredibly they offer us a lift (everyone else has happily driven past us for the last two hours)! We gratefully climb in and sit quietly as we traverse the final section. The short journey is made more difficult as a result of having to slalom through the abandoned cars. The water is almost unpassable even in a 4×4. But, thanks to two lovely locals gents we arrive at Terminal 2. My faith in human nature is duly restored.

Part 1 of our mission complete. We reach the airport.

We speak to an airline rep, who looks utterly knackered. He says that the flight is still scheduled to leave, but will be delayed. He then adds in a whispered footnote, that if he were us, he would cancel now. No way the plane is going to leave.

Thank God for a bit of honesty. We ask about baggage reclaim and he says that it’s possible in some instances and will take about an hour.

Decide to have a coffee and toastie before making our next move. Airport is a crowded mess. Some people are asleep on the floor, others are sat on their trolleys looking grim, some groups were even chanting prayers in Arabic. No one seems to know very much about anything.

We have a few options open to us. 1. Stay in Dubai for a few days until things calm down. 2. Try to get to Muscat by car. 3. Try to get to Abu Dhabi by car.

All roads (pun intended) lead to trying to reclaim our luggage. So with food consumed we head to arrivals. We join a  queue of people waving luggage labels at staff. The people in front of us are travelling with the same airline. They are told the earliest they can collect their luggage is tomorrow. Our hearts sink. We wait our turn and are genuinely delighted when they say we can go to try and find our bags.

After heading through security, we find ourselves in luggage city! Bags everywhere. Our cases are liberally scattered, but we do manage to find them. Not that it’s a contest, but end result is David 3 – Jenn 0! 😊 Speak to another Brit who is rummaging amongst the cases, he’s planning to try and get to Abu Dhabi.

Part 2 of our mission complete. We have luggage.

Spend a bit of time online trying to find a driver to Muscat. No joy.

We buy tickets for a local bus, resigned to spending longer in Dubai. Fortunately, as it pans out, the bus doesn’t arrive for an age. We split resources, Jenn waits for bus, I wait for one of the few cabs that are running.

After a couple of hours I reach the front of the taxi queue. The taxi drivers face a challenge. The vast majority have been told by their company that if they go through flood water and damage their cars, they will be liable for the cost. As a result they will only take certain fares. Can’t blame them.

Somehow we manage to find a guy willing to attempt the journey to Abu Dhabi. He makes it clear though, that he has no idea if it’s possible, no idea how much it will cost, and that he can’t go through flood water without us agreeing to pick up any damages.

In the words of Gimili from LOR – ‘Small chance of success. What are we waiting for?’

Part 3 of our mission complete. We have a driver.

The roads are utter carnage. Most are closed. Our driver is in talkative mood. Think he’s lonely. Describes 7-hour journeys the night before to cover a few kilometres, people wanting to exit the cab in the flood waters when they saw the metre costs spiralling, watching luxury cars gets swallowed by the water, and generally describing scenes that had not been witnessed in Dubai in living memory.

We start our journey and end up being turned back multiple times because of road closures.

Bizarre experience to see traffic moving in both directions, without any apparent order, on major roads.

Jenn decides to navigate using Google maps. Quite entertaining from my vantage point. Our taxi driver just accepts her decisions, and we gradually edge our way through the city. It makes for interesting window viewing. For mile long stretches one would think everything was normal. Then a stretch of water appears reaching halfway up the stranded cars, only held back by road dividers.

We (Jenn) navigates our way successfully around the blocked roads. Final obstacle it seems is a red patch on Google maps. The road is open, but the water is high.

Our taxi driver is not keen. Jenn coaxes him closer and closer – ‘let’s just watch what other people are doing’. Watch as a Maserati coupe, with low clearance, attempts the crossing. Shame, was a nice car!

A stranded bus has blocked the road, so we have to go deeper into the water. Taxi driver by now is committed. We hold our breath and cross fingers. If we get stuck here, we are buggered.

The Gods smile upon us and we are through! Rest of the journey is straightforward, although the impact of the storm can be seen for the entire drive. Arrive at our hotel unscathed. Only cost us £80.

Part 4 of our mission complete. We escape Dubai.

What to do now. Options. 1. Fly to Muscat next day from Abu Dhabi. 2. Stay in Abu Dhabi until our flight to Mozambique (we were due to connect in Abi Dhabi from Muscat). 3. Skip Oman and fly to Mozambique earlier.

Decide it all depends on what the airline will allow us to do. Turns out we have limited options. Despite the fact we connect through Abu Dhabi to get to Mozambique, they won’t allow us to join for just the second leg. We can’t cancel and rebook, as there are no other available flights.

Decide the better part of valour is to fly to Muscat on the 19^th. Will only give us three days in Oman, but enough time to do a desert and mountain tour. Also means we will be in the right place for our next flight.

Part 5 of our mission complete. Plan escape from UAE.

Interesting few days to say the least. The press coverage suggests that it will take a few days to get back to normal operations, clear the backlog, and repair infrastructure. Really feel for those that are stuck at the airport, the staff working so hard, and to anyone who lost their lives (some mixed reporting over this). When we were wading through water on our way back to the airport, definitely questioned my own sanity – but as luck would have it, proved to be a good decision.

Will be interesting to see what lessons are learned on the back of this. There are some basic issues to consider, first amongst those being effective communication. If people don’t know what to do, they will arrive on mass. A simple banner on web pages would help people to make effective decisions and ease the burden on staff.

Deep breath and onward to Oman.    

Any notion we had that central Asian countries were going to be similar to one another is quickly dismissed upon landing at Tashkent, in Uzbekistan. Feels very different to Kyrgyzstan.

We only really have one full day in the city, and wander around it at our own pace. We get our first taste of the fabulous architecture the country has to offer when we visit Kukeldash Madrasah, before strolling through the many parks before arriving at the Soviet designed Uzbekistan Hotel, and statue of famed leader, Amir Temur.

By then I’d sampled a raspberry and banana (?!) ice-cream, which had melted down the front of my white shorts. The latter looked like a tie-dye experiment gone horribly wrong, with bright pink splodges, pretty special.

If we had, had more time, we are told that the mountains near Tashkent are well worth a visit. Maybe next time.

As it is, we have a date with a high speed train. The heavens open that morning, so we get soaked making the short walk from taxi to station. The weather looks distinctly mixed over the next few days. Nevertheless, the two-hour journey is pretty comfortable and we arrive in Samarkand unscathed.

We have a guide for a full day tour of the city, which proves to be a good decision. It is vast and there’s a lot to see. It’s a national holiday in Uzbekistan to celebrate Eid, so nice to see lots of local families out enjoying a little bit of respite. Travelling to places of interest during public holidays seems to have been a recurring theme this trip! The weather is also perfect, bright blue sky.

We start the day at Gur-i Amar (meaning ‘tomb of the king’ in Persian). Built in 1403, during the latter part of the reign of Amir Temur, a legendary local hero who did much to unite this part of the world, and by all accounts significantly improve prosperity for local people. Of course, the people he conquered would no doubt have a different interpretation of his reign! But, in this country he is a much revered figure and the majority of the sites we visit are directly linked to him and his descendants. Fitting that the first spot is the site of his resting place. Interestingly, he is laid alongside his son and grandson at the feet of his teacher, such was his respect for the latter.

Really stunning. We’ve never seen anything quite like it before. The site has obviously been heavily restored, and there are traces of the original ruins. Think it, and other sites in the area, are giving UNESCO a bit of a headache, given that the local government left to its own devices would so heavily restore the buildings that much of the original history would be lost. We are in two minds about it. Having walked around lots of historical sites in their natural state, it is refreshing to see buildings in something resembling their original splendour.

Next stop is at the Registan Square. Again dating to the early 15th century, the site comprises a mosque and two madrasas (schools to you and I). Beautiful buildings.

Lunch is a good opportunity to talk to our guide a bit more about local culture. Fascinated to learn that arranged marriages are still very common, and seemingly very successful. Islam is by far the dominant religion in the country, and family plays a crucial role. Very common for at least two generations to live in the same house.

Our penultimate stop for the day is at the spectacular mausoleums of Shah-I-Ziner, many of which are dedicated to notable women. Progressive thinking for the early 15^th century.

Finish the day at the Uleg Beg observatory, dating from the 15^th century. Not much to see, but incredible how accurate the star maps produced on this site were – together with calendars that are pretty close to modern standards. By all accounts the best and brightest from across the empire were brought to the region. The results speak for themselves.

Next day we drive to the land border with Tajikistan. Interesting experience, but nothing like as bureaucratic as we had been led to believe. We were safely through within about half an hour.

We meet our driver, Amirkhon and our guide, Humoyun. Immediately clear that we are in great hands. Tajikistan is the second most mountainous country in the world after Bhutan, and the ranges make for an impressive backdrop as we make our way to Sarazm.

The site was only discovered in 1976 after a local farmer found a bronze axe head, but it dates back 5,500 years. Although there is not much left to see, this was an important part of the silk route and the museum houses a raft of interesting finds dating back to the period. The skeleton of a female, known as the queen, is preserved as she was found, wearing two bracelets made from shells that can only be found in the Bay of Bengal. Evocative of a time when travellers from all corners of the known world would meet to barter and exchange exotic goods.           

We are asked by our guide whether we’d like to make either a bathroom stop, use an ATM, or buy a snack. After initially declining, Jenn decides that actually, it’s a long drive so a bathroom would be great. Whilst we’re at it, maybe it would be nice to grab a banana and some bread. Which of course means we need an ATM. Our poor guide!

The bazaar is interesting. We are the only tourists, so the produce is intended for locals. Always fascinated by the butchers shops, that lack refrigeration! The fruit, vegetables, and spices are about as fresh as one could wish for. Was very touched when Jenn asked how much a loaf of local bread was. The local lady insisted on giving it to us for free, ‘a gift for our guests.’ Small gesture, but how many places in the world would that happen? Genuinely touched by a simple act of kindness.

That morning we visit five of the seven lakes. In the foothills of the mountains, the lakes are gorgeous and being off season we have them largely to ourselves. With the weather being kind to us, they are stunning.

Spring in the valleys brings out the fruit blossoms on the slopes and our homestay for the evening is a hive of activity with locals tilling the fields and planting crops. After a very welcome home cooked lunch we hike to the remaining two lakes. The last of which is partially covered in ice.

Our accommodation is basic, but homely (pun intended), with a stove in the room ensuring that we are warm enough through the night. Obviously no wifi, so a few days isolation from the outside world. We are served local food, perhaps not to everyone’s taste, but interesting experience and you could certainly never quibble about the portion sizes!

Next morning we make a brief stop at the mausoleum of Abu-Abdullo Rudaki, the ‘Chaucer of Tajikistan,’ and an important literally figure in this part of the world.

Our next homestay is in the remote village of Artuch. The village is rustic and unspoiled. As we wander round, cows roam the streets, goats are herded through the small roads by children on donkeys, and women wash clothes in the stream alongside coal fires. Electricity in this part of the world is dependent on hydro-power and has been challenging to say the least in recent months. The lack of snowfall is a concern, given that river levels are expected to be below the norm. That said, we have no issues during our stay.

In the evening we watch as our hosts prepare dinner, a popular local dish known as ‘plov.’ Relatively simple to prepare, and they make a special vegetarian version for Jenn. Interesting to spend time in a local kitchen with 8 grandchildren running around! Our host is also the local blacksmith, still one of the most important jobs in the village. We learn that property passes through the male line.

The next day we are due to hike to the Koulikalon Lake. It’s a modest hike in terms of distance, around 14km. The summit however is a touch over 9,000 feet (more than twice the height of Ben Nevis). Small by local standards, but pretty high for those of us not accustomed to altitude.

By now our luck with the weather has come to an abrupt end. It has been raining overnight and is drizzling as we set off. The clouds look somewhat ominous and we even discuss whether it is worth attempting. But fortune favours the brave and all that…

The early part of the hike is pretty uneventful. Beautiful valley, steady rain, an aggressive farm dog, and mountains shrouded in thick cloud.

As we progress to the snow line, the rain becomes heavier, and the temperature drops. The snow on the ground becomes thicker and more constant as we continue. It’s a steep ascent in places, which is fine when the footing is good. As the snow thickens it becomes increasingly challenging.

At various points the snow is at least knee deep, covering the rocks beneath. Humoyun leads the way compacting the snow for us to follow in his footprints. Fine for Jenn, but I am at least 15 kilos heavier, so sink deeper into his tracks.

Jenn suggests that we go back. We know that the final part of the ascent is steep and the rain has turned to sleet. I suggest that we continue on to see what conditions are like further ahead, we are so close it would be a shame to stop now…  

Jenn and I have slightly different approaches to risk assessment. I rely heavily on the advice of local guides. If they tell me it’s safe, I trust them (within reason). If they say it’s not, I don’t argue. Jenn on the other hand trusts her own gut instinct. It makes for interesting debates at times…  

Half an hour on the conditions become pretty epic. The sleet has turned into heavy snow and Jenn is having to be helped through the deep drifts. We reach a corner that is pretty challenging. Humoyun and Jenn make it through and continue on. I slip twice, resulting in light sprains to both of my already numb hands!

With a mere 50 metres to go to the summit, we concede defeat!

The final 50 metres is an almost vertical climb, which would be easy in the summer. In the snow, it would be very tough. Humoyun suggests that maybe it’s ‘a little bit dangerous to continue’. I take this as code for ‘we could continue, but we’re all going to die.’ Obviously, I exaggerate for effect…

So close… 50 metres!

Note: My doctoral thesis is about decision making. Two things are going through my mind at the bottom of the final 50m. Firstly, if you have an accident here, no one is coming to help. You either find a way down or you become a permanent addition to the mountain. Secondly, if something were to happen, given that Jenn had wanted to turn back earlier, I would never hear the end of it…  

There’s nowhere to stop and the snow is getting heavier, so with our frozen tails between our legs we head back down.

As we are about halfway down, the universe decides to send us a sign that it approves of our decision. We hear a crack that sounds like thunder, before watching as a mix of snow and rock cascades down the mountain. A safe distance from us, but a reminder that we are all insignificant in the face of natural forces. You certainly wouldn’t want to be near that avalanche/rock slide.

Our guide looks crestfallen that he wasn’t able to show us the lake.  From our perspective, once we are safely at the bottom, it all feels like a great adventure. Such things always do in hindsight. Really glad that we attempted the climb and even though we didn’t see the lake, it was a very cool hike in the wilds of Tajikistan. Our photos have since been shared with other would be hikers… suspect very few will be attempting the hike until the snow thaws. We are clearly pioneers. 😉

The next day is a far more tame affair. Long drive to Dushanbe (capital city). We stop at Iskanderkul Lake for lunch, where Jenn falls in love with the local puppies. We also walk to see the nearby waterfall. The waterfall itself is hard to see from any given vantage point, but the valley is beautiful.

Before we reach Dushanbe, we stop to wash the car. Apparently, dirty cars are not tolerated in the city, with fines dished out to slovenly offenders. Makes me smile, given that my car back home only gets cleaned when it rains!

When we arrive, we are treated to wifi for the first time in three days. The news that Iran has launched an attack on Israel has blissfully passed us by in the valleys. However, Jordan was due to be our next stop. Given that the Israeli response is unknown, and that the airspace has only just reopened, we decide that a change of itinerary is required. A relief to our parents no doubt!

Jenn pulls out her cloak and exercises her super-powers. She pulls forward Oman, looks to book Mozambique as a substitute, and cancels flights to Jordan. It’s impressive to watch, and I am grateful to be travelling with a true master of her craft!

We start our city tour the next day later than planned given the logistical challenges that Jenn is grappling with (I myself am grappling with Orwell who I have discovered a great appreciation for this trip). Visit several sights in the city and the National Museum.

All too soon we are sat having our final lunch with our incredible guides. Been a really cool few days. Tourism still feels embryonic in this part of the world, and it has been interesting to see villages in their unspoiled state. Suspect in a few years time the country will change dramatically, and tourism will become a lot more mainstream. Although we’ve visited in the offseason, we’ve loved the isolation. We didn’t see the lake, but the memory of that hike will stay with us for a long time.

Given that the ‘stans were not on our original plan, and were a late addition, we feel very glad that we’ve visited. We’ve only scratched the surface, and there is much more to discover here. Not too far from the UK and somewhere that we would happily return in the future. You won’t get lots of creature comforts, but you will get authentic people, incredible culture, stunning scenery, and a largely undiscovered history.

Next stop Oman – all being well. Well done Jenn!  

A four-hour flight from Abu Dhabi finds us flying over dramatic looking mountains en route to the capital of Kyrgyzstan, Bishkek. We have no idea what to expect from central Asia – having never met anyone who has visited.

Formerly part of the Soviet block, Kyrgyzstan achieved independence in 1991, but still has a significant relationship with Russia. A land-locked country bordering Kazakhstan to the north, Uzbekistan to the west, Tajikistan to the south, and China to the east. Outside of basic geography we know very little about the history and culture of this part of the world and its c. 7 million inhabitants.

As we drive from the airport, the architecture is pretty much as one would expect. Blocks of concrete apartments with lots of right angles! Framing the austere looking buildings are the dramatic mountains of the Tian Shan range.

We’re knackered when we arrive after a very early start and so it’s an early night, although not before we meet our guide for the next three days, Abdi. After briefly running through the itinerary we bid farewell until the following morning.

The weather next day is surprisingly kind to us. Perhaps the travel Gods are rewarding us for visiting somewhere a little less mainstream.

We meet our driver, Alex, and off we head. It’s a long, but interesting day. If you look at a map, you’ll see a huge lake in the middle of Kyrgyzstan, Issyk Kul. It’s one of the largest alpine lakes in the world. In the summer it has become increasingly popular with tourists, but this is the off season and we feel fortunate to be seeing it at it’s rugged best.

There is relatively little physical history in the country, given that the nomadic traditional of the local people. Our first stop is at, one of the few exceptions to the rule, Burana tower. Dating from the 11^th century, the site was built by the Turks and makes for an interesting interlude. The tower was reduced from 45 metres by a series of earthquakes over the centuries to its current height of 25 metres. The staircase is steep and wide enough for a single person to pass. In its original splendour, the view must have been incredible.

The grounds hold a collection of Balbals collected from across the country, together with ancient petroglyphs (rock paintings). Can’t help but think that the latter should be under cover given that the elements will quickly erase these tokens from the past.

Kyrgyzstan is an interesting place – not quite four seasons in one day, but interesting mix of green fields and snow-capped mountains, with discernible changes of temperature as we move from one ecosystem to another.

We take a short boat trip on the lake. In the summer the boats are standing room only. At this time of year we have the boat to ourselves. The blankets proffered are most welcome and I regret leaving my coat in the car!

Our next stop is at a nearby gorge where an avalanche has blocked our intended path. A reminder that this is the off season, and that our route is dictated as much by the elements as by design.

We were slightly concerned about the cuisine before arriving, but an excellent lunch at a local café puts paid to that concern. There is a LOT of meat on the menu. In this country horses are revered. They also feature heavily on the menu! Our guide is fasting for Ramadam, and so can only look on as we eat. Islam is the dominant religion in the country, followed by Orthodox Christianity.

We eat all our meals with both driver and guide which is a great opportunity to get to know them better and to understand a little more about the local culture. Our guide is a mere sappling at 20 years old. He speaks excellent English, and is passionate about encouraging tourism in the area. He has recently returned from a Google sponsored trip to Singapore on the back on his content creation.

The average salary in Kyrgyzstan is around $200 a month, although people seem pretty contented with life, and the money stretches further than many places we’ve visited. Our driver by contrast is about to celebrate his 50th birthday and has been at the forefront of tourism for over 20 years. They are both excited to show us videos of places they’ve visited and over the course of our time together take as many pictures as we do. One of the great pleasures of being guided is watching how enthusiastic locals are about their own heritage.

It’s a long day and we are glad of yet another early night when we arrive at our hotel in Karakol, after the best part of 10 hours on the road.  

Next morning we visit the most unusual mosque we’ve ever seen. Designed and built by the Chinese, without the use of a single nail. The minaret is pretty cool and against the blue sky, is as aesthetic as any we’ve ever seen. This is swiftly followed by an Orthodox Christian church, built entirely from wood. Two of the most unique buildings we’ve seen on our travels.

Next we head to Jeti-Oguz. Beautiful alpine location in the middle of nowhere. Great place for hiking in the summer. We take a stroll up to a frozen waterfall, followed by a new found friend. Apparently this is a guard dog. Personally I’m not convinced, aside from being distracted by its outrageous soppiness, I’m not sure that it would prove much of a deterrent to a would be thief.

The original plan had been to ride by horse back to the waterfall. But given that it’s frozen and somewhat inaccessible, we head instead to a scenic view point. Health and safety in this part of the world is somewhat lax, and the idea of a helmet seems to be alien. Glad to be led on my horse. The scenery is stunning and at the top of the plateau, we are treated to red cliffs surrounded by looming mountains. It is a serene place and although personally I am happy to cling on to my ride, it’s fun watching as our guide gallops a somewhat unruly horse across the meadow. Rather him that me…

From alpine, snow-capped mountains we head to Skazka Canyon. This place is incredible and reminds us vividly of the Kimberley in Western Australia. Stunning red rock and wind-carved sculptures abound. Remote, unspoiled, and at this time of year, completely deserted. We love the contrast with our previous stop. It’s like being on Mars.     

By now it’s late in the day and we have yet to have lunch. The off-season has resulted in a number of cafes closing early. Hence we head to a street vendor to buy a grilled chicken, before eating said feast out the back of our car on the lake shore. The roughly made chicken sandwiches are delicious and despite the cold, it’s a beautiful and rugged spot for a makeshift picnic.

Our accommodation for the evening is a traditional yurt. Very cool, both literally and figuratively! Beautiful, but decidedly chilly. We look at the stove in the hope that it will subsequently be lit. After a traditional dinner, we return to a room that is so hot that you could probably roast a chicken in it! Clearly yurts are pretty extreme at this time of year – either hot or cold. Have to leave the door open in an attempt to reduce the temperature. The stars are pretty stunning on our way to the communal toilet, ahead of the power going off at 22.00. Basic, but very authentic.  

Come the morning, we are back to the former temperature extreme. Shiver in my blankets before finding the courage to get up!

After breakfast we head to Ak-sai Canyon. A short hike finds us looking at an incredible desert-scape. One side, lake. On the other, as far as the eye can see, are sculptured canyons. In the background, the ever present mountains. Feels like a composite of many of the places we’ve visited on our trip – but all brought together in one stunning aesthetic masterpiece. Again, the lack of other people adds to the experience. Feels like a well-kept secret, which of course it is.

The next stop is the the one I’ve most been looking forward to. In this part of the world, locals have used golden eagles to hunt for hundreds of years. We learn that females (stronger than males and easier to train) are taken from the nests when they are young. They are trained to hunt, targeting rabbits, foxes, ibex, and even wolves. The birds are rewarded with the meat of their victims, whilst the hunters collect the skins. Birds are flown for some twenty years, before being released into the wild for the rest of their lives (they live to around 60). The adjustment to life in the wild comes very naturally. After all, the birds have all the skills they need to survive in the wild. The birds are well looked after and clearly adore their trainers.

A father and son team introduce us to two eagles. Incredible birds. We’ve seen them in the wild, from a distance, but up close they are utterly superb. They weigh c.6kg and the photos below give a reasonable indication of scale (wingspans of over two metres).

Watching them fly is pretty mesmerising. The talons are ridiculously strong and grow back annually.

With the eagles looking on, we attempt archery with a traditional bow. Quickly realise that I’d need an eagle if I were to eat in this environment! My skills as an archer would see me starve.

Our final stop is at Kok-Moinok. Having now run out of superlatives to describe the landscape, I will suffice with pictures.

With that it’s back to Bishkek for the night. Feel a little sad that our tour has come to an end. It’s nice when a location surprises you. Nowadays so many places feel familiar when you arrive. The array of media images available make the majority of places feel very accessible, even from afar. So it’s nice to arrive in a place with few preconceptions and to have every expectation exceeded. We’ve only scratched the surface in Kyrgyzstan, and would like more time here (although perhaps in the summer when sleeping outdoors is a little more comfortable).

Fully expect Kyrgyzstan to become more mainstream in the coming years. Stunning spot with something for everyone. Feel very fortunate to have seen it with excellent guides, in stunning weather, and in splendid isolation.

Next stop is Uzbekistan. It has a lot to live up to!

This part of our trip feels almost disappointingly orthodox, but, given that Sri Lanka is only 90 minutes away from the Maldives, it would have been a shame not to visit. We head to the southern atoll, in the hope of seeing whale sharks.

It’s further than we’d imagined with a 60-minute seaplane from Male. The flight however, is pretty spectacular flying over the incredible Indian Ocean and its myriad of islands. Reminiscent of Fiji, but without the dramatic island-scapes. Regardless though, absolutely stunning and very hot! Any notions we may have harboured of arriving looking glamorous disappear in the intense heat of the cabin!

A short hop on a boat sees us arrive at our home for the next few days. Part of me wanted to dislike the Maldives, but it’s impossible. It really is a gorgeous place. The beaches and the water are exactly as one would imagine. Little piece of paradise and far more accessible and mainstream than the other corners of the world we’ve visited to date.

Sign up to the whale shark alert programme, but I’m told by the resident marine biologist that we have two hopes! They haven’t seen a whale shark since December, although it is the right time of year. The weather has disrupted the plankton, in addition to increasing the temperature of the waters. Shame…

We content ourselves with snorkelling and generally relaxing in the incredible water. The coral is not the most spectacular that we’ve seen, but there are a lot of fish. We are also treated to nursing sharks and black reef tips near one of the restaurants. Easily visible in the shallow water from above, but very cool to swim alongside once I’ve donned snorkel and flippers.

Very relaxing few days and about the right length of time.  PS: enjoy watching this heron whose eyes were clearly too big for its stomach…   

Dubai is next on the agenda and it’s a four-hour hop to the UAE. Bizarrely this is another place that I’ve never visited before.

We spend our first morning wandering around the marina. All feels very familiar somehow, with brands we recognise and lots of western faces. The skyline is as impressive as one would imagine. Everything is big! We head over to the Palm and take the monorail to Atlantis, just for the sheer spectacle. It’s Ramadan, Easter weekend, and the Racing World Cup – so Dubai is pretty busy! Good place for people watching.

That evening, we meet up with a good friend of mine from my DBA, Hamad. We kept each other sane during the 4.5 years we studied together, finishing at roughly the same time. Hamad is based in Dubai, having recently retired from the Dubai Chamber of Commerce. I say he’s based in Dubai – at one point he was travelling for 200 days of the year. Have a lovely dinner together and set the world to rights. Great to be able to meet up and introduce Hamad to Jenn.

Following day, we head over to the old village before contrasting starkly with a visit to the Dubai Mall and Burj Khalifa. The latter is a seriously piece of engineering at 828 metres, making it easily the world’s tallest building. Not to be outdone the mall, is impressive in its own right, and boasts a huge aquarium, containing a raft of enormous sharks and rays. Only in Dubai!

We return in the evening to watch the light show and the fountains dance. It’s quite a spectacle.

Following day we take a taxi to Abu Dabhi, the capital of UAE. Not entirely sure what to expect from the city but we have two nights ahead of our next flight.

We visit the Grand Mosque in the evening. Incredible piece of modern architecture. Well worth a visit – absolutely stunning.

Following day we visit the equally stunning Louvre. The collection is sparse but impressive. See several pieces that were worth travelling for, including Da Vinci’s, John the Baptist. The antiquities are equally praise worthy. As a bonus inclusion we watch an 80 year old sea turtle being fed. It’s blind, so is being cared for alongside a number of other creatures that are being treated having suffered afflictions in the wild.

Lunch on the coast overlooking a ridiculously blue sea is a nice way to finish our time in UAE. There is a lot of building underway, and I would imagine the area is going to be quite a sight within the next decade. An easy place to spend some time and I’m grateful to have seen it.

With that it’s an early start the next day. For reasons unknown, we have elected to visit Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, and Tajikistan. All supposed to be beautiful, but perhaps not the most accessible, or well trodden, of locations. Wish us luck!

After a night in Ella, it’s another lengthy drive to reach Hatton, which is ironic given that we passed through it on the train the previous day! Think this may be one of the rare logistical failures of our trip. Don’t think we anticipated how long it would take to travel point to point without the aid of the highways.

That said, before embarking on the near 5-hour trip to our next hotel, we visit the very aesthetic Nine Arch Bridge. Fun watching as the train passes with people hanging out the windows on the one hand, and people standing perilously close to the tracks on the other. People’s judgement appears to be decidedly dubious in the absence of nanny state health and safety!

Our next hotel is set in a working tea plantation. Very beautiful and overlooking a large lake. It would be very peaceful were it not for the music blaring from the two nearby temples in celebration of the Holi holiday! Lovely place to wander around.

Next morning we take a tour of the plantation. Interesting to learn a little more about the process of making tea and understand the subtlety in processes that determine whether the leaves make it into white tea, Darjeeling or black tea. The former is high in antioxidants and reportedly very good for you. Although, in my ignorance, it’s the first time I’ve heard of it!

Much as we enjoy the tour, it makes us feel a tad uncomfortable. The average tea picker is paid around $100 a month. It’s hard, and surprisingly skilled labour. It’s hot, humid, and incredibly manual work. Tea pickers pick the same row of plants for years, protecting the future generations of leaves, that if they harvested too soon, would otherwise wreck their picking weight (tea pickers are still paid by weight and quality). There is not much by way of corporate social responsibility in this part of the world, and I cannot help but think that someone is getting very wealthy on the back of a lot of blood, sweat, and tears, with limited distribution of said wealth.

Jenn and I are lightly jeered, when walking through the plantation. Nothing threatening, just a mocking reference to ‘no money’ – presumably what they are told by westerners when asked for help. In fact later that day, two school children ask me for money as I wander around the lake. My retort, was exactly as prophesised – although in fairness I really did have no money with me!

As we leave the following day, facing another lengthy drive, to get to the coast, we pass through mile after mile of tea plantation. The entire region appears to be comprised of plantations. However, with the loss of the older generation of tea pickers, plantation owners face a material challenge. Younger generations do not want to do the work – and who can blame them? Automated processes wreck the tea plants, and result in significantly inferior outcomes. So, something has to give… In the past when coffee crops yielded to blight, they switched to tea. Less clear what the solution will be in this case

Our final stop is in Tangalle. Jenn has managed to catch a really nasty cold and is pretty much confined to barracks. Such is the severity of her cough, that she turns to Google for advice, and declares herself to have TB! Fortunately for all concerned, it quickly becomes apparent that Jenn’s self diagnosis is a tad extreme, and she is not suffering from the consumption. Really lovely stretch of coast – although judging by the red complexions of our fellow guests, it’s also a tad warm.

Given that Jenn is incapacitated, next day, I opt to go on a safari for the afternoon in Yala National Park. It’s a really stunning place, that is full of wildlife. It’s a nearly four hour return trip to reach the park, but worth the effort. Although I don’t see a leopard, I do see plenty of elephant and even a sloth bear (first bear I’ve ever seen in the wild).

As we venture further into the park, it feels like a microcosm of the challenges facing the country as a whole. They let far too many cars into the park, all of which jostle for position on the narrow, rutted roads, resulting in comical impasses. It is far from a serene experience, and one is left to imagine how much better it would be for the wildlife, locals, and guests, if there were a little more organisation (in fact any organisation). As it is, it is a rush to make as much money as possible and hang the consequences.

Up until now I had been amazed at my luck. Given the strength of Jenn’s TB (sorry, I mean cold) and the fact that we have shared a car and a bedroom, it feels highly fortuitous that I haven’t caught it.

By the time I get back from safari I realise that, I have been labouring under a misapprehension. Feel lousy and join Jenn in the communal sick bed!

A hacking cough puts paid to my planned whale-watching trip the following morning. A 5am wakeup might have finished me off. Rest is what is needed… So, obviously, I decide that rather than convalesce like a normal person, I’ll go on another safari, this time to Udawalwe Park. Who says I can’t sit still?

This park is far more civilised than Yala day before. Less wildlife overall, but plenty of elephants. Closest I can remember being to them. Watch one particular family unit for some time, baby, Mum and Dad. Seem to be having a grand old time spraying themselves in mud! Also get to see what may well be my favourite bird of prey to date, a hawk eagle.

Not sure that the safari did much to help me to fight off the cold. Nor do I think much of the efficacy of the locally prescribed herbal remedy called Samahan (a spicy mix of herbs that almost burns as you drink it).

We discover that our driver has also succumbed when he comes to pick us up next day. What a car full! Three sickly people coughing and spluttering! Nonetheless we dutifully stop briefly at Galle to see the famous Dutch port.

After that it’s straight to Colombo for an early night ahead of our flight the next morning. Can’t believe how quickly our time in Sri Lanka has gone. In fairness, I think we got the planning on this one a little bit wrong. It’s a very beautiful country, with a real mix of history, culture, wildlife, scenery, and beach – but to get around it involves quite long journeys. We barely scratched the surface, and seemed to spend a lot of time travelling. I would absolutely recommend it as a location – but I would think long and hard about which stops to make. Anything off the train line or highway is hard work.

I also think that this is a country with deep-rooted challenges. The country despite having significant natural resources is struggling owing to mismanagement. Corruption has driven inflation and unsustainable tax burdens. Most appear to be close to the poverty line and with heavy national debt, relatively modest education levels, and traditional industries under threat, it feels like things may well get worse before they better. Many of those with the means to do so are leaving the country to find work elsewhere. It’s a great shame as the people and country are both lovely. They deserve better leadership.   

With that we are off on a holiday within a holiday. Given that we are only an hour or so from the Maldives, it would be churlish not to visit for a few days.

Until then…  

Before heading to Sri Lanka we have a single night in Delhi. What better way to spend it than with a former colleague, Niharika, and her husband, Abhi. Niharika and I had worked together for many years, although we had only had the opportunity to meet once before in person. Was really lovely to meet up on Niharika’s home turf and to share some our respective news over excellent kebabs. We were made to feel incredibly welcome and even invited to Niharika’s sisters’ wedding later in the year – that would be a very cool thing to attend! Very grateful that the stars aligned and we were able to meet!  

Our first stop in Sri Lanka is in Colombo, the capital. We arrive late afternoon, so just enough time for a bit of a stroll in the twilight. 18 months or so ago the country was gripped by hyperinflation and rapidly increasing taxes. By all accounts, the situation for the average person was pretty dire. By contrast, we’ve heard great things about the country from fellow travellers, so aren’t entirely sure what to expect.

Our first impression of the capital is very positive, infrastructure is good, the park we walk to is very tropical, and everywhere is very green. Fun watching the mass exodus of bats as the sun sets.

Next day we take in the sights of the city, courtesy of our driver (who, unfortunately for him, is stuck with us for the duration of our trip). Interesting place, with lots of colonial and local history. Stroll around Independence Square, visit the lighthouse, red mosque, and even make it up the newly constructed Lotus Tower, the third tallest tower in Southeast East Asia.

We later hear from locals that the building is largely despised. It has become a symbol of the country’s corruption and mismanagement. At a time when people were struggling financially (bare in mind a nurse here earns as little as $100 USD a month), the government invested in an outright vanity project. The fact that it is illuminated at night ad is visible across the city adds salt to the wound.  

That evening we are fortunate enough to meet up for dinner with another former colleague of mine, Isuru, and his wife. Isuru, has helped us to organise this part of the trip by putting us in touch with a local agent, so great to meet up for a drink and get first-hand knowledge about his beautiful country. Note: Isuru has made it his personal mission to make sure we are looked after whilst we are here and we are very grateful. Feel like well cared for children! 

Next day we drive 4 hours to Sigiriya. Nice journey through miles of tea plantations and luscious jungle. If any reminder were needed of the abundant wildlife in Sri Lanka, we are fortunate enough to see two wild elephants meandering along the road on the way to our hotel. The proximity of these enormous animals to the tuk-tuks and local cars is somewhat concerning. Such a great shame that mankind continues to encroach into the homes of these majestic animals.   

Our hotel is set on a series of lakes and feels very special, with birds and wildlife everywhere one looks. Time to grab the camera…

We don’t have time to rest on our laurels and head out that evening to climb Pidurangala Rock. It’s hot and humid, and navigating the summit involves squeezing oneself under a narrow overhang, but the views from the top are beautiful. We are joined by other tourists with the same idea, and a host of badly behaved monkeys. In a fit of gallantry, I save a lady’s phone and handbag from a would-be thief…

Next morning we are up reasonably early to try and beat the heat as we head to Sigiriya rock fortress. This is a pretty incredible place and one that feels like a well-kept secret. Neither Jenn nor I had heard of it until we started planning our trip. Sigiriya was the capital of Sri Lanka in the 5^th century and the skyline was dominated by an impressive palace sat on a 180m granite rock.

It reminds us of a miniature Manchu Pichu and is certainly worthy of more notoriety than it currently receives. After the death of the founder, it served as a Buddhist monastery until the 14^th century.

After an excellent Sri Lanka breakfast of string hoppers (nests of noodle-like dough served with curry), we head to Polonnaruwa, another ancient Sri Lankan city. We make several stops to see the ruins of palaces, temples, and monasteries. The scale is impressive and some of the buildings are incredibly well preserved given that they date back as far as the 10^th century.

The rest of the day is spent wandering around the amazing grounds of our hotel. Manage to find one of the two resident crocodiles and even a water snake!

We are both a little sad to leave the following day as we make our way to Kandy. En route we stop at the Dambulla Cave Temple. Again, a bit of an uphill hike, but the caves are seriously impressive, and have served as a sacred pilgrimage site for over two thousand years. The caves contain over 153 statues of Buddha, with the murals covering 23,000 sq. ft.

Next day we head to the botanical gardens which are extensive, beautiful, and very hot. Surprised to see Flying Foxes flocking in large numbers during the day.

In the evening we watch a local cultural dance show before heading to the Scared Tooth Relic Buddhist temple for the famous Pooja ceremony. The temple as the name suggests is the home of one of the most sacred objects in the Buddhist faith, a tooth from Buddha himself. It’s crazy busy, and we queue for half an hour, in order to file past the golden shrine holding said relic (it’s only open for twenty minutes). Interesting spectacle.

The next morning we are up early to get the train to Ella. The train is purportedly a great way to see the countryside. It is also popular with Instagrammers who make the most of the windows, open doors, and Sri Lanka’s lapsed health and safety regime, to dangle from the moving carriages. The train arrives reasonably promptly at 8.30 and after having our tickets checked by a myriad of officials we are safely ensconced in our seats.

Or so we thought…

A nice chap politely points out that we are in what he believes to be his seats. We show him our ticket and are surprised to find that we are seemingly double booked. The train guard comes over to help.

Pans out that our tickets are actually for the following train, scheduled to leave in 2.5 hours. Of course, by now we are well underway.

The guard tells us that we need to leave the train at the next station. We politely point out that 3 different people checked our ticket, and that our driver has now left Kandy to meet us at the other end. We ask if we can sit somewhere else, or buy a new ticket. We are unceremoniously told that we have to leave the train at the next station or, the police will be called and our passports confiscated!

At the next station, we are shepherded off the train by an entire entourage of people. Once on the station, the locals are incredibly apologetic about how we have been treated. Very sweet of them. Never been thrown off a train before.

Once we’ve calmed down we resign ourselves to our fate and wait in the middle of nowhere for the next train.

The train once it eventually arrives is actually pretty cool. The scenery is stunning and we traverse hundreds of tea plantations and generally watch the world go by, as a dizzying collection of hawkers attempt to sell us samosas, nuts and fruit. The journey takes nearly 6 hours. So, in addition to the two-hour delay, it feels like a long day.

We spend a night in Ella, before heading on again next morning.

Sri Lanka is very beautiful but it’s a big place, and the journeys all take twice as long as one would expect! Next stop Hatton…

TAFN.

We’ve often found that some of the most interesting places are those that are hardest to reach. Ladakh, in the far north of India, was to prove no exception. After heavy snow our flight from Delhi was cancelled and a replacement offered in 3 days time. Given a mandatory two-day acclimatisation period in Leh, due to the high altitude, we would have had very limited time in leopard territory if we had taken that option. Hence a frantic rebooking saw us fly to Jammu, close to the Pakistan border, the following morning. A one-night layover, and then onward to Leh. Managed to only lose a day in transit – although it cost us a few quid.

Before you even land in Leh you know you have travelled somewhere special. Advantage of flying from Jammu is that we fly over the Himalayas, with K2 visible from the left side of the plane! The short hop from the airport offers stunning views of the snow lined peaks – it is breathtakingly beautiful.

First job in Leh is a trip to the local market. We’d bought our cold weather gear in Vietnam in preparation for the temperatures here which can fall as low as minus 10 at this time of year. To make space for our newly acquired items we’d availed ourselves of the post office in Ho Chi Minh to send some items home.

As we are repacking in Delhi before our flight north, I realise that I’ve managed to send my thick, knee-length coat home, and retained my lighter jacket! Perils of having your clothes rolled into tight rolls for packing, and having a penchant for the colour blue!

With the help of our local guide, I am soon suitably equipped with ankle boots and a down jacket. Our guide’s negotiation skills help me to get both items for the local price. The shop itself looked like a jumble sale – although I assumed there was method in the madness. I was wrong. The owner manages to locate one size 9 and one size 10. Have to give him ten minutes to find a matching pair…

The main market street in Leh lies in the foothills overlooked by looming monasteries. It is unlike anywhere else in India, and one would be forgiven for thinking they were in Tibet. The people here look and dress differently, are predominantly Buddhist, and in fact only became part of India in 1947. In the summer it is swamped with tourists – but is quiet at this time of year. With a high-speed train being built to connect the region to the rest of the country, and an international airport well underway, Leh will likely be unrecognisable in the near future. But for now, it is unspoilt and charming.  

The plan for the following day is to spend the day visiting local sites to minimise any exertion and acclimatise to the 3,500 metre altitude before heading higher still. Altitude sickness is a big problem in the region and tourists find themselves in hospital with a frequency that surprises us. Taking altitude lightly can be fatal. As a precautionary measure I take medication (Jenn of course doesn’t need it). Had issues in Ecuador and Bolivia previously. Once bitten and all that…

As it pans out, we get a text that evening saying that there is a kill site in a nearby valley and they recommend we drive there.  Early start and a two-hour drive through the mountains. Surprisingly there are very few 4x4s in this part of the world and so we head off in our rear wheel drive over roads that are covered in ice and snow from the unexpected weather that had resulted in our flight cancellation. At various points it looks like the car wont make it up some of the inclines, even with the hastily added snow chains.

With the skill and persistence of our driver we make it most of the way to the valley. A 30-minute walk completes our journey. Ridiculous as it may sound, a 30-minute walk at altitude is surprisingly hard work. Find that my body has to work out how to breath properly.  

Upon arrival, a number of tripods can be seen holding an impressive array of cameras and scopes. At the top of the ridge we get our first sight of a snow leopard, or more specifically three snow leopards! A mother with two nearly grown cubs…

Quickly realise that snow leopards, like other cats are pretty in-active during the day. Occasionally putting their heads up, yawning, stretching a leg, but otherwise contentedly dozing in the snow. Also quickly realise that my camera, which has served me well in the rest of the world, is woefully inadequate here.

I studied a little bit of psychoanalysis at university – so well versed in Freuds reports of men’s obsession with the size of their equipment. Cannot recall anything about lens envy though, and I discover that I have a bad case of it. I look out at rows of professional tripods with an array of telephoto lenses that would shame most camera shops. Get talking to a Canadian guy, Ed, who is sat with a 600mm lens with both a 2x, and 1.4x extenders attached. Hastily hide my 500mm behind my back and shuffle back to where Jenn is standing by a scope with our guide.

The kill site is also a good distance away, but it is a hive of activity. Golden eagles, griffon and lammergeier vultures are all sat in situ chewing on the grizzly remains. They are impressive-looking birds of prey. In fact, we later learn that in certain parts of Tibet, sky burials are popular. In short, the body is chopped into pieces and left for the birds. It quite appeals.  

We spend the whole day at the site, eating lunch outside overlooking the mountains. Every so often someone shouts ‘the heads up’ and people rush to their cameras and scopes, only for the deflated ‘she’s down again’ to follow rapidly on its heels. The spotters, of which there are many, have eyes like hawks and can see the slightest movement and anomaly amongst the rocks.

The day is interspersed with blue sheep, urials, and wild yaks. The latter have been the terror of tea caravans braving the journey through the mountains over the centuries. Wild yaks can be extremely aggressive, and a caravan attacked by 500 of the beasts, which can weigh over a tonne, stood little chance.

As the day draws on our leopards get a tad more active, sitting up, before eventually disappearing over the ridge for the evening, giving us a sight of their immense tails, and a nice silhouette against the skyline.

Towards the end of the day we see a fourth leopard on an opposite ridge. Day 1, four snow leopards! We had prepared ourselves not to see any. Groups, including National Geographic, can come to this part of the world for months at a time and see nothing. To have seen four in one day is incredibly lucky and we drive back to our hotel feeling tired but blessed.

Next day we make the three-hour drive to Ulley and our home for the next four nights, Snow Leopard Lodge. This is really where leopard tourism, if it can be called that, started, about 7 years ago. The journey is even more rugged than the day before with constantly shifting slopes depositing a good number of rocks on the roads, and the combination of ice, elevation, and sheer drops making it hard work for the driver. We try hard not to over think things as the car reverses at various points towards the cliff edge. This is a recurring theme over the coming days.

Just as we are nearing the lodge, a call comes in to say that there’s been a sighting in Mangue. We are offered a choice between continuing to the lodge or potential leopards… no brainer.

We pick up Norbu, en route. He is something of a local celebrity, having been involved with the lodge since inception, and widely regarded as one of the best spotters of snow leopards in the world, frequently guiding National Geographic and other research teams in the region. Documentaries have been made about him and his father. We are in very good hands.

We arrive to find two leopards on a ridge. This is a mating pair that met several days ago. In corporate terms we might describe leopards as going through a norming, storming, and performing cycle. The first encounters involve a lot of snarling and playing hard to get. Once the preliminaries are over, the pair will stay together for several days. They can mate as often as once every fifteen minutes for 5 days to maximise the odds of conception. These two are well into their courtship and look spent. Through the scope it is touching to watch them affectionately lick one another and sleep side by side. When all’s said and done they are big cats, and display many of the characteristics of our cats back home. Wish I had an empty box… I bet a pound to a penny they would make use of it! Video courtesy of Jenn…

Norbu lives up to his reputation, whilst everyone else is looking at the two leopards, he casually points out that there is a third on a different slope. This one is closer, although close is a relative term here, given that it is still 420 metres away. 7 leopards in two days…

It’s a long day and we eat lunch outside again, this time with a lovely Indian lady who is also staying at the lodge with us, Shreya. Having tried to organise a trip here with friends for three years, she eventually decided to just bite the bullet and travel on her own. Good for her! A far departure from her corporate job at a start-up in Bangalore.

Also spend a bit more time talking to Ed and his wife Lisa, who were at the site before we arrived. In this part of the world, people congregate when there’s a spotting. That said, it is so remote that there are more spotters than guests and the numbers are low. It is all very intimate, and for the large part people are very friendly, interesting, and like-minded (we won’t mention the people that arrived just before we left).

Turns out that Ed has largely abandoned his impressive camera and is relying instead on Lisa’s scope plus iphone, and P1000. The latter is a £700 piece of kit that has an impressive 24-3000mm lens. Just goes to show that its all about having the right tools for the job, not the most expensive.

Our guide, Dolkak, also gives Jenn an adapter that secures her phone to one of the scopes and means that she can get really nice photos and videos. I’m not at all jealous as I redundantly aim my own camera…  

In the evening one of the leopards decides it has slept enough and goes on a bit of a stroll. Really amazing to see the animal at full stretch and walking dexterously across the snowy ridges. They really are incredible. The tail is almost as long as its body, the head looks disproportionately small, they boast 5000 hair follicles per square inch, and are more closely related to tigers than other types of leopards. Aside from mating season, they are largely solitary, patrolling territories that can exceed 25 miles.  

It’s a long day and we get to the lodge in the dark. The lodge is really a glorified homestay. Very quaint and we are glad of the stove in the main room, and a cup of Khawa, a local tea said to be very good for altitude sickness. There is no running water at the lodge – although we are told its coming soon. Until then a bucket system suffices. Red bucket contains hot water for washing, blue bucket, cold water for manually flushing the toilet. It wouldn’t be for everyone, but we knew what to expect, and people do not travel here for five-star luxury. As we are told, ‘Ladakh is a place so remote that only your best friend, or worst enemy, would bother to follow.’ Food is excellent and the staff are really lovely. Go to bed, with a hot water bottle, two duvets and a wood-fired stove in the room.

We are woken at 7am with a hot cup of tea, a fresh bucket of hot water, and watch as the stove is re-lit. Spotters have been out since first light at around 6.30. Routine here is to grab a tea and head out onto either the balcony or the lower slopes with the spotters. We see ibex (including two males fighting) and golden eagles (had no idea that golden eagles can travel at speeds of 200 mph when diving), before heading back for breakfast.

At 10am every day reports come in from across the valleys and a call is made about where to head. It turns out to be a reasonably quiet day. Although we do see Himalayan wolves, which are at least as rare as snow leopards.

The fact that it’s quiet, means we get a chance to get to know Ed and Lisa a bit better. They are ridiculously well-travelled, and have been to Ladakh twice before. Their first visit was 15 years ago, when there were no roads, or mature infrastructure, and getting any type of phone signal involved climbing a peak! Spent a month hiking with Norbu, and in that entire time had three sightings. They returned again in November last year and drew a blank. Just goes to show, snow leopards are far from a given.

Ed is an artist. He and Lisa travel widely photographing animals which he then meticulously recreates in his studio. His work is stunning. I particularly like the field sketches that he draws on location. A good use of his philosophy degree – which as we all know is the only respectable subject to study at university. They also run a small travel agency, Lisa makes jewellery, they sell curios from their travels in their shop near Niagra and spend a significant portion of the year travelling – enviable lifestyle.

At the lodge that evening we meet some new guests, two ladies from the US, Janet, Dee Ann, and their local guide, Gulzar. The latter has been at the lodge since inception, and over the next few days, we find his knowledge invaluable.

Following day is another long day outside. No leopards, but good sightings of wolves, culminating in an early evening climb to a vantage point. Again, patience is key. The sun is warm in the afternoon making this an area where one can ‘get frostbite and sunstroke in the same day.’

Really enjoy the conversations with our new friends. Always a pleasure to speak to fellow travellers and wildlife enthusiasts. That said, I will very definitely be hiding my photos from Dee Ann, a professional photographer, who has taken some stunning, award-winning photographs over the course of her twenty-year plus career. Starting to realise the patience and dedication required to put oneself in the right place, with the right kit, so that when the right time comes you can take the perfect shot. That said, I tend to take pleasure in most things I see, so enjoy being in the environment and taking opportunistic photos.

For me, in this part of the world, the photos we get capture the moment, rather than being perfect examples of their type. This is of course me trying to justify the poor performance of my equipment – pun intended! 😉  

We say a fond farewell to Shreya, Ed, and Lisa. No grand finale unfortunately, but I suspect both will be back again…

Next day we chase shadows, going from location to location with limited success.

That said, our last full day has a final treat in store for us. Late in the afternoon our spotters somehow pick out a leopard on a slope over 2km away. Even through a scope it is hard to spot.

They also spot a group of four ibex nearby. Game on.

The leopard heads in the direction of the prey and disappears amongst the rocks. Our guides advise that it will attempt a kill. Get ready. As ever I’m tripod-less, so find a semi-covered piece of ground and lie down to try and stabilise the camera. Through my lens I can see the Ibex, but they are tiny in my view finder. I just have to aim in that direction, and be ready to click away at the first sign of movement. It takes a while. My hand and arm ache from holding the camera in position and the cold is biting when motionless. That said, the anticipation is electric.

All at once everything kicks-off. I see a dot emerge from the rocks, the ibex scarper, and a chase down the mountainside. It’s over in seconds. Leopards are explosive, ambush hunters, if they miss with the first attempt it is almost impossible for them to bring down a full-grown ibex. The snow is crazy deep as well, almost entirely obscuring the leopard.

Not many people get to see a snow leopard hunting, feel like we’ve joined an exclusive club.

I have no idea what I’ve captured until I start looking at the playback screen. Looks like I’ve caught the attack, it’s tiny – but it captures the attempt. Later that evening looking at the photos, zoomed-in to within an inch of their life, I can see what actually played out.

The leopard attacks from the nearby rocks, flying spreadeagled at the nearest ibex. It lands on an impressive set of horns. No chance of clinging on from there. Thrown off, the leopard is not done yet, and makes a second attempt. Second miss. The ibex is simply too strong. It all plays out in milliseconds. The other ibex have barely left the frame, in the time it has taken the leopard to make two attempts.

The chase down the mountain feels like a token gesture and the leopard is easily outpaced. Photos below sort of capture it… but certainly don’t do the experience justice. Utterly amazing!

The next day we leave Snow Leopard Lodge, but not before we head out to one final sighting. Get there a fraction too late and the leopards have disappeared amongst the rocks. The closest we are destined to get is when the local villagers bring out handmade stuffed leopards and Ibex. Would definitely have bought one, had we had any luggage space left.

At around 11am Jenn and I call it a day and head back to Leh, having said goodbye to Janet, Dee Ann and the raft of spotters and guides that have made our trip so very special. Journey back to Leh is bitter-sweet, looking forward to a hot shower, but we are already missing the remoteness of our home for the last few days.

We’ve been incredibly lucky. Not even the legendary David Attenborough has seen a snow leopard in the wild. Without doubt one of the most beautiful and remote places we have visited. I only hope that the influx of visitors in the coming years does not destroy what makes this place so special. Selfishly, I would prefer this place remained a well-kept secret.   

We will be back. Have unfinished business with the Pallas’s cats…

One of the joys of being a self-proclaimed, seasoned traveller, is that you get to sit in judgement of those who make rooky errors. Favourites include, watching people get their luggage allowance wrong necessitating a public repack, being told that they can’t take their Swiss Army Knife in their hand luggage, or arriving too late to navigate sceurity. I can only imagine therefore how much fun anyone watching us arrive at the check-in counter at Hanoi would have had…

We hand over our passports and I haul our luggage on the scales. We’re old hands at this now. Like clockwork. The lady then asks to see our Indian visas. I look at Jenn expectantly. She however, replies confidently that we don’t need visas…

The lady looks at her as if she’s mad… my heart sinks.

We’ve been to India before, so we know full well you need a visa. We also know that it’s a painful process.

I break out into a cold sweat as I furiously rack my memory to recall whether I was allocated this task. If so, my life will not be worth living. I look around desperately for any obvious escape routes. As my panic subsides, I feel pretty confident that this is not on me, although I retreat to a safe distance, just in case. Jenn’s dejected look is enough to confirm that this is a collective miss. I will live to fight another day.

It was in Jenn’s master spreadsheet. We just a completely missed it. What a pair of clowns!

More through hope than expectation, we drag ourselves out of the queue, and sit to try and secure an e-visa in real-time on the airport’s patchy wifi. It takes a while to even submit the request. But it is clear that we are going nowhere today. After submitting our requests to an emergency service in the UK, we head back the way we came, with our tail between our legs, for an impromptu night in Hanoi.

Fortunately, the travel Gods smile upon us, and we receive our visas next morning. Game on! It does however mean that our hotels are now out of synch. Takes me nearly 5 hours of texts, phone calls, and every trick I know, to convince our first hotel in India to shift our room to the right by a day without charging us a fortune.

We land in Mumbai where memories of previous trips to India come flooding back. Arranging a taxi is a bit of a mission and it’s late by the time we arrive at our airport hotel. As ever, it’s hot, sweaty, and utterly chaotic.

After a night in an airport hotel, we fly to Udaipur where we meet our driver for the next week. Really lovely guy called Pankaj, who has been recommended by some friends. He lives in Delhi but has made the nearly 700 km journey to pick us up. The life of a driver in India is tough, and work is hard to come by.

Udaipur immediately feels very different to anywhere we’ve visited in India before. Sky is blue, it’s warm but not roasting, and everything looks very green. The roads are excellent, and if it weren’t for the intermittent cows crossing, you could almost forget where you were.

We’ve accumulated enough loyalty points over the last 9 months to earn ourselves a splurge. So we use our tokens for two nights in the Raffles. It’s a new hotel, and largely focused on weddings. Weddings are a big deal in Udaipur, with hosts booking entire venues and spending vast amounts of money. Fortunately for us wedding season doesn’t properly kick off for a couple of weeks and so the hotel is quiet. It’s set on an enormous man-made lake and like many hotels in India, built in a palatial fashion.

Spend the afternoon wandering around the grounds. It’s a great place to photograph water birds (and a very cute spotted owl). The food is also awesome. As much as we’d enjoyed Vietnamese food, we are both itching for some proper spice. It doesn’t disappoint.

Following day, we hit the sites of Udaipur. For the Bond fans amongst you – most of Octopussy was set in the magnificent palaces and forts in the area. We visit Taj Lake Palace (home to Octopussy herself), City Palace, and Monsoon Palace (home to Kamal Khan). This particular area is known as the Venice of India and it’s easy to see why.

We are somewhat reluctant to leave Udaipur next day and make the three hour journey to Narlai. Originally we were due to be there for two nights, but owing to our minor clerical error, we elect to reduce our stay to one night and put ourselves back on schedule. Visit the spectacular Ranakpur Jain Temple dating from the 15^th century en route. Just stunning.

Our hotel is a converted 17^th century palace in a rural location in the middle of nowhere. Given that Jenn isn’t feeling great, I head out for a hike up the impressively steep hill that stands in front of our balcony. Feel very safe, and get almost no hassle as I walk through the village. It’s a really interesting place. Walk past a group of lads playing cricket. I’m invited to play, but politely decline. Firstly, I’ve left Jenn at the hotel, and secondly, I’m not entirely sure what role the cow is intended to play, and I don’t want to look like an amateur!

Next morning we are up early for a leopard safari. This is the principal reason for visiting the area. After two hours and some near misses we end up drawing a blank. Dejected, we head back to the hotel for breakfast. Just as I’m finishing a delicious local delicacy, the manager invites us to check out late, and to go on the evening safari as his guests. Given that it’s a stunning day, and the pool looks inviting, it feels rude to decline.

The evening safari is far more successful. We see one female leopard, and an enormous male. We both absolutely love leopards, so we are delighted to see them. It is however, very apparent that there is a problem. The proximity of the leopards to the villagers is ridiculous. The leopards live literally next to the local houses. In fact, the main staple of the very well-fed cats, is stray village dogs. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that the leopards will not fare well out of this arrangement in the longer term.

On the way home our guide confesses that the only reason we’d been offered the free trip, is because of my camera. They want the photos! Happy to oblige, although they are not the greatest given the time of day and the fact that leopards are amazingly well camouflaged. The fact that the leopards are always flanked by peacocks makes us both smile. Still not quite sure what that is all about – looked pretty perilous from where I was standing.

With that it’s a three hour drive to Pali. Our hotel is a former hunting lodge dating back to the 18th century. Although it’s dark when we arrive, we wake in the morning to find the lodge is set around a large lake that is teeming with wild peacocks.  

We try our hands at pottery, with our tutor making it look ridiculously easy. He offers Jenn admiring utterances in the early stages of her first effort. ‘He’s impressed’ – another lodge worker translates. The praise seems to go to Jenn’s head, and within seconds she has managed to collapse her pot and created a decidedly abstract object of questionable aesthetic merit! Great fun though.

I wander around with my camera in the afternoon and find the blackface langurs particularly entertaining. For the large part my presence barely bothers them – but they do offer some pretty comical facial expressions.

In the evening we go for a nature walk around the property with other guests. We meet a lovely couple from the UK, Barbara and Brian, and share a beer on the terrace as the sun sets.

Following day it’s off to Jodphur, a two-and-a-half-hour drive. Again, we are staying in the grounds of a converted palace. The grounds are immense, and whilst we are staying in the converted stables, the palace itself on the edge of another huge lake is pretty impressive. We can only imagine what this part of India must have been like in its heyday.

We visit Mehrangarh Fort to watch the sunset. The fort is magnificent. If you’ve watched Batman Returns, you may recognise the fort in the background as Bruce Wayne escapes from Bane’s prison. I happened to be watching Netflix the following day, and recognised it, completely by chance.     

Before we head home that evening we visit the old town. Utter chaos. People everywhere, but really interesting stroll that culminates in a drink overlooking the city’s stepwell.

We start the following day by visiting the fort museum. Again, the scale and grandeur of the place makes one yearn to see it in its prime. End up buying yet more paintings from the museum shop. I really have no idea what I’m going to do with them, but hand-painted Gods on old Indian government bonds, were hard to pass up. As was the obligatory camel photo…

Amazingly given the size of the city, we bump into Barbara and Brian, who we’d met at our last hotel. Small world.

Visit Jaswant Thada, which is a very picturesque mausoleum, before heading back into the old town to have lunch with Pankaj. We are after all saying goodbye tomorrow.

Incredibly, as we walk into one of the myriad of restaurants in Jodhpur, we see Brian and Barbara! What are the odds? Clearly karmic forces have decided that we should be friends, and we decide to have lunch together. Great company and fabulous food, what more could one ask? Looking forward to meeting up with them again when we are back in Blighty…

Following day, we say a fond farewell to Pankaj at the airport. We are flying to Varanasi, he is driving back to Delhi. He hopes to pick up a fare on the way home. We’ve really enjoyed having him navigate us through Rajasthan, added a lot of colour to what we’ve seen and experienced.

Absolutely loved our time in Rajasthan and we both slightly regret not having had more time here. By far our favourite part of India to date. Steeped in history and simply stunning. People are friendly and the food is fabulous. Far more accessible for tourists than many would imagine.

Our next destination in Varanasi is a bit of a ball ache to get to. Originally we were due to fly through Delhi, but Indigo (budget Indian airline), had other ideas and unilaterally decided that we should fly through Ahmedabad and arrive two hours later than originally intended.

An hours car journey on the other side finds us on the shores of the fabled Ganges river. Utter mayhem. Feel very glad to be quickly whisked away on a boat without too much delay. This part of India is not for the faint hearted. Varanasi is regarded as the spiritual capital of India, and one of the world’s oldest continually inhabited cities.

According to Hindu mythology, Varanasi was founded by Shiva, and said to be home to one of Brahma’s decapitated heads (courtesy of the ferocity of the aforementioned founder). As a consequence, Varanasi is a pilgrimage site and venerated throughout the country. Every day some 400-500 bodies are cremated on the river banks amongst the Ghats. As we float past, the fires are burning, the sound of the local Ganga Aarti ceremony rings in our ears, the air is thick with lace wings, and the sheer volume of people makes for sensory overload.

We decide to save ourselves for the following day.

First thing, we head out for a walk along the riverbanks. It’s pretty special. Everywhere one looks there are people bathing in the river water, traders selling incense and offerings, and a myriad of other sights too innumerable to try and cover.

As we walk, a gaggle of young girls, beautifully dressed, and armed with paint, approach us. Jenn is quick to agree to a bindi (decorative mark on the forehead). I follow suit. Jenn then promptly takes a picture of me surrounded by my young entourage, before disappearing quicker than I would have imagined possible…

I knew I would have to pay for the aforementioned photo and decoration, but dear lord! Small hands grab me from all directions. I feel like I’m dispensing money in a never ending 360 degree arc. Children emerge from everywhere as if by magic. Slowly as my pile of cash depletes, they disappear back into the city.

I catch up with my unabashed wife, with one young girl persistently following me. She was one of the unlucky ones, who didn’t manage to grab a note.

Rather than ask for her rightful share from her friends, she decides that persistence is her greatest ally. ‘Money for paint and photo’ – is her mantra. I try saying ‘no – I’ve already paid.’ Her counter is simply, ‘no, no, money.’ It soon becomes apparent that Jenn isn’t going to help, and that my new found shadow can keep this up all day. Disappears as soon as a note is proffered.

By now we have reached the Manikarnika Ghat (the main cremation site). A helpful local attaches himself to us. He works with the temple of behalf of the homeless – apparently. Begins to explain what we are watching. Families come from all over India to cremate their loved ones in this spot. The bodies are bathed in the waters, and left to dry, before making their final journey to the pyres. The pyres burn 24 hours a day, seven days a week. The ashes and somewhat gnarly remains are subsequently fed into the river. Fire is believed to purify the souls of the deceased.

There are exceptions to the rule. Children below the age of ten, pregnant women, lepers, and victims of snake bites, amongst others, are not cremated. These bodies are weighted down with heavy rocks and dropped directly in the river!

Knowing what’s in the water, I’m amazed at peoples willingness to bathe, swim, and play in the water.  

We are walked around the pyres by our guide. Literally within a few feet of the bodies and flames. The smell is not as bad as one would imagine. It is also not as hard to witness as I had feared. There is an almost matter-of-factness to the proceedings. Devout Hindus do not fear death, believing in reincarnation, and there is nothing like the sombre air that I associate with funerals in the West.

We are shown the eternal fire. The spark that lights all the pyres, and which has burned according to our guide for over three and a half thousand years.

We end our brief tour in front of a local priest, who offers us a blessing, and collects our donation for the poor. He explains that there is no set amount. It is all about letting our conscience guide us and balancing our karma. I make my offering, roughly half the remaining money I have with me. I then make to give him the other half on behalf of Jenn. He refuses to take the money from me. Insisting instead that Jenn must make the donation, as it is her karma that is at stake.

Been out for half an hour and have no money left! Our auras however, must be glowing!

We wander around the old streets. Utterly crazy, but we feel perfectly safe. That is, until I stop to have a picture with a snake charmer who promptly proceeds to wrap his serpent around my neck (not a euphemism). Not quite what I was expecting.

The streets are fascinating, and every so often, a dead body is paraded past on its way to the river. It’s all a tad surreal.  

In the afternoon we elect to take a boat down the river to view the city from the water during daylight. It’s full of history and a real spectacle.

Over high-tea I have my fortune told by a palm reader. Jenn refuses. Who knew that she was superstitious about such things.

In the evening we head by boat to watch the Aarti ceremony (expression of deep devotion, love, and reverence to God). Thousands of people line the river and steps. Ceremony is interesting, but the people watching is by far the most entertaining element. The funeral pyres at night look particularly macabre and somewhat dystopian.

Two days in Varanasi feels sufficient to get a feel for it. What a place! An assault on the senses, but what an experience. Would highly recommend to those with a curious mind and a love of culture. So glad we made the effort to travel here. Will live long in the memory.  

With that it is time to head north. We are off to Ladakh. At 4500 metres it is the highest place we have visited to date. Law requires that we spend two days acclimatising in Leh. After that, assuming we adjust sufficiently to the altitude, it’s off to find snow leopards. Wish us luck!

Our trip wouldn’t have felt complete somehow without adding an overnight train into the mix. But as they say, be careful what you wish for!

There are actually a decent number of westerners at Hue station awaiting the train, some going all the way through to Hanoi, so maybe we aren’t completely crazy. Our cabin, is distinctly compact, and I feel very grateful that we will only be using two of the four bunks. By the time our luggage is inside, there is really not very much space. However, there are snacks on the cabinet and we are even offered either a cold beer, or a glass of dubious looking wine.

On the plus side, the shared bathroom is clean and functional, with a sink outside offering a place to brush ones teeth.

On the downside, the mattress is wafer thin and the vibrations are pretty special. Don’t anticipate a great nights sleep…  

Yep… I was right. One of the worst nights sleep I can remember. Tiny bed, noise, and vibrations are not conducive to a decent nights kip. In fact, I can only imagine it was like spending a night in Shawshank during an earthquake. Note to self – no more overnight trains!

It’s a three hour drive from Nimh Binh station to Mai Chau, with interesting scenery en-route.

Mai Chau is very picturesque. Our room overlooks the paddy fields, which are a hive of activity. We are there to watch the final preparations for the rice to be sewn. Over the balance of the two days we watch as the fields transform from bare mud to something resembling a rice field. Fun just strolling through the fields and watching the preparations.

With our one full day, we head out for a guided walk up one of the nearby mountains. We are led by a local lady. Very beautiful, if somewhat steep walk. Get to step into one of the traditional stilted houses. Feels slightly intrusive but interesting to see the space where locals live, eat, and sleep.

At the top of the mountain, with a vantage point overlooking the terraces, we are invited to join a local lady for fresh sugarcane. She was born in this very house, and is now 70 years old.

We’ve never eaten sugar cane before. Watch as she strips the cane with a machete, before handing us inch long pieces to chew on. It’s actually very tasty. You are left with thick pulp in your mouth once the sugar has been exhausted through chewing, and I watch as our guide spits it out. Glad she’s there to show us the way!

Both the guide and the lady of the house are keen to have their photos taken with us. Happy to oblige, although I feel somewhat like Gulliver arriving in Lilliput!

Next day we drive 3 hours to Hanoi. Have time for a stroll before a reasonably early night. Next day we are due to head to Bai Tu Long Bay for a two day boat cruise.

It’s another decent length car journey to reach the harbour. Bai Tu Long Bay is the quieter and lesser-known sister to Ha Long Bay. The Latter is notoriously noisy, crowded, and polluted, so we chose a quieter spot. Our boat is a traditional Vietnamese junk, sleeping up to 8 guests.

Turns out that we are to be outnumbered by the French! Two other couples are joining us on our trip, both in their early 70s. All I can say is that I hope I am in that sort of shape at their age. They are very good company, and kindly oblige us by speaking English.

We head out through the beautiful archipelago. Local legend has it that back in antiquity, a great dragon spat out thousands of pearls that became the 1,969 islands and islets.

We are treated to a six course Vietnamese lunch with our new found friends, before stopping at Sun Sot cave, and kayaking around some of the islands. Very nice, relaxing day. Although a further six-course dinner leaves us fit to burst!

Although slightly better than the train, the boat is not the most comfortable place to sleep, and we both wake next morning feeling decidedly groggy! Note to self – no more boats!

We visit a traditional floating village where life has been largely unchanged for a hundred years or more. Children have to go to the mainland for school, consequently, many are taught how to fish rather than anything more academic.

After yet another multi-course meal, we find ourselves winging our way back to Hanoi. Glad that we are not staying on the boat any longer – we’d end us the size of buses!

Visit a traditional water puppet show on our way home. It’s very quaint, but not worth making a special visit to see.

Our final few days in Vietnam are spent pottering around Hanoi and sorting out various aspects of the remainder of our trip. The fact that northern Ethiopia is a no go zone means that we’ve had to juggle the itinerary, which now includes Jordan as a last minute substitute.

Hanoi is an interesting spot. It doesn’t have a plethora of tourists sites, but it is entertaining enough for a couple of days. Particularly enjoy visiting Train Street, where high speed trains literally run through a busy residential area.

We are also asked to help some young students to improve their English. Good fun, and turns out their English is already excellent. Obligatory photos, which again, make me look like some kind of giant. Jenn is particularly pleased that her students look happy and excited, whereas mine look forlorn. What can I say, it’s a gift! 😉

With that, it’s time to say farewell to South-east Asia. Next stop India. Looking forward to it!

People always rave about Vietnam, so we are excited to land in Ho Chi Minh (formerly Saigon) to find out what all the fuss is about!

Everywhere is preparing for the Lunar New Year (or the holiday of Tet, as it’s known locally). Locals tend to take two weeks holiday, the whole country practically shuts down for three days, and people exit the cities on mass to return home to the countryside. The city is a fusion of colour, flowers, and music. This year is the year of the dragon – pretty cool!

The city is far more high-rise than we expected. It is also utter carnage. There are over eight million motorbikes in this city alone, and avoiding them is a constant occupation! Nowhere is sacred. Green men at crossings mean nothing here, nor do pavements. It’s amazing that there aren’t more accidents – the bikes come at one from all directions!

Like many Asian cities, it is a great place to just wander around (if you can avoid the bikes). It’s particularly nice ahead of the holidays. Locals dress up in their finery and go on photoshoots around the decorated streets.

Spend our first morning visiting the Russian Market. We are due to visit northern India soon, where it is going to be minus 10. This is supposed to be the place to buy cheap cold-weather gear. Place is like a jumble sale, but it does have remarkably cheap coats, thermal trousers etc. Will report in a few weeks time whether it’s actually any good or not! Either way, the purchase of these additional items means we have to send some other stuff home to make space. Wonder whether it will actually make it back to Blighty!

We visit the Cu Chi tunnels as part of an organised tour. We stop en route at Lamphat Company factory, where victims of Agent Orange produce handicrafts. Really interesting watching the process of making these beautiful lacquerware objects – from bowls through to panels. To my lasting shame, I had never previously heard of Agent Orange. Napalm – yes, Agent Orange – no.

Agent Orange was a chemical weapon dropped by the US during the Vietnam war. It was intended to destroy the thick jungle foliage that proved so effective at camouflaging the Viet Cong. It certainly achieved its intended purpose, but it also resulted in at least three generations of people suffering from a range of physical deformities. The factory serves as a way for a subset of victims to earn a living.

At the best of times I’m a sucker for Asian art. But this is for a very good cause. Spend far more money than I care to think about and have to have our purchases shipped home as a consequence. But as my mother would say, but by the grace of God go I.

The tunnels when we arrive are pretty interesting. They stretch over 250 km and are comprised of three levels, the deepest being 10 metres. People lived within these labyrinths for up to 10 years. It must have been brutally hot. We are invited to enter one of the original entryways… needless to say they are not built for people who are 6’1”. Jenn however would have made a perfect tunnel rat (local name, not mine).

Following day we head to the war remnants museum. The collection of planes, tanks, and heavy artillery outside the main building is impressive. The inside however, is pretty graphic. One exhibition is comprised of some 275 candid photos taken by war photographers from 11 different countries. Makes for uncomfortable viewing. Decide I need to learn more about the Vietnam war. It’s hard to follow the politics. That said, regardless of the whys and wherefores, it was a horrific conflict that lasted over 10 years and resulted in c. 3 million deaths. Sobering…

A short flight takes us to our next stop in Vietnam, Da Nang. Jenn has surpassed herself by finding a tour that takes one to Monkey Mountain in search of the critically endangered red-shanked langurs. We head straight from the airport, leave our luggage at the tour operators office, before hopping on the back of bikes, meeting three other tourists, and heading off. No rest for the wicked!

Brief stop at an old fishing village, before heading up the mountain.

Wouldn’t you know it? Just as the road starts to climb, thick fog descends. It gradually worsens to the point that it’s difficult to see more than a few feet in front. Bugger!

Our first sighting of the langurs is almost entirely obscured! So frustrating, because even through a misty veil, there is no mistaking the fact that these are seriously cool monkeys!

Start to despair that we are going to have to write this trip off. Our super friendly guides though are not ready to quit (even though they confess that this is the worst conditions they have encountered)!

We head down the mountain to a road that is closed to the public owing to a landslide that has only been partially cleared. Fortunately for us, we are with a park ranger and can head where others cant. Miraculously the fog lifts and visibility improves materially. We get super lucky and see a troop of langurs sat contentedly in the tree tops. From our vantage point above them, we get a great view, and are sufficiently far away that our presence is largely ignored. The colours are amazing, and their rubbery faces surreal.

The fact that I take a thousand photos, and have a long lens (that’s not a euphemism), does not go unnoticed and a couple from the US ask if we’d be willing to share the photos. Of course, I’m more than happy to share, so we exchange details.

Following a highly successful trip, Jenn and I head straight to Hoi An by taxi. Long day, but really good fun!

Next day is new years eve. We have a nice relaxed day wandering around the town. I buy a couple of water colours by a local artist. No idea what I’m going to do with all this stuff when we get home. Don’t have enough wall space…

Jenn and I also buy traditional Vietnamese “ao dai” outfits for later that day. Red and gold represent prosperity and luck. I’m somewhat superstitious about such things, or perhaps it’s more about not tempting fate. In any event we buy matching outfits in said colours.

The couple that we met the day before on our monkey trek, have caught the bus to Hoi An during the day and having exchange photos, we arrange to meet for drinks that evening. Chris and Merlene are both physiotherapists from San Francisco, who have recently got married, jacked in their jobs, and are nearly 8 months into their travels. Who would do such a crazy thing?! 😉

Great to meet likeminded people. They are travelling until they exhaust their budget. Looks like 18 months or so. Great fun exchanging travel stories, and our fears and horror at the prospect of returning to reality at some point.

May have been a tactical mistake meeting relatively early in the evening in a craft beer garden! By the time midnight rolls around we are all a little worse for wear. Doesn’t stop Jenn and I donning our outfits.. Dressed as though the lunar new year has thrown up on us, we head over to watch the fireworks. Decide that we can’t see in the new year without a dragon balloon…

Really great evening and lovely to see in the new year with new friends.

Wake up with a slightly thick head the next morning. Sadly, we have a 5-hour car journey to our next stop in Hue.     

The roads are extremely quiet given the holiday. Visit marble mountain to break up the journey and get some exercise.  

Hue was the capital of Vietnam until 1945. Home to the impressive Imperial Citadel. Absolutely packed with local visitors who are granted free access during the holidays. The fact there are so many locals in the palace, goes some way to explain why all the restaurants are shut!

On our final day in Hue we visit three of the royal tombs of the Nguyen dynasty, namely Tu Doc (built 1864 – 1867), Lang Minh Mang (built 1840 – 1843), and Lang Khai Dinh (built 1920). All fabulously elaborate and a must see if in this part of the world. Also good excuse for Jenn to break out her outfit!

After a full on day, we head to the station. We are travelling to our next stop in Vietnam by overnight train! What could possibly go wrong!

Until next time…

It’s been 14 years since we were last in Hong Kong, the day we got engaged in fact, so it holds fond memories.

I’d forgotten what an enormous city it is. That said, it’s a great place to just stroll around, which is exactly what we do with our time. A walk up to Victoria Point provides a great view over the city and reminds us that all the hikes here are vertical! 

We get a pleasant surprise when walking back to the hotel when we find an aviary in the middle of the city. It’s very cool. Loads of tropical birds in the middle of the very impressive skyscrapers. 

Manage to catch up with a good friend from my DBA, Kevin. Spend a great evening at the Jockey Club and sample some great Cantonese food. Jenn, as the guest of honour, orders on our behalf, which I will be forever grateful for! Great to catch up, and ironically Kevin is heading to the UK the day after we meet. Small world!

A short hop from Hong Kong finds us in South Korea. Seoul was a relatively late addition to our trip, but as we pull up to the hotel, it immediately feels like a great decision. The city is reminiscent of Singapore in terms of infrastructure. Everything feels, very new, very ordered, and an easy place to spend some time. Singapore was built from the ground up after the war. Seoul has similar origins, having been constructed after the end of the Korean War in the mid-1950s. 

Despite arriving in the evening we head straight out for a walk. End up walking across the impressively wide, 1.2km, Han River. Pass a statue of two men sitting on a bench, one with his arm around the other. Will return to the significance of this in due course. Over the other side of the river, it’s pretty lively for a Wednesday night. In contrast to the order of the roads and skyscrapers, the bars, cafes, and restaurants are far more characterful.

Head back on the tube. Amazingly, you can only buy single tickets and can’t tap in and out with foreign credit cards,. Uber modern city, but with a somewhat antiquated metro system. I particularly enjoy the quirkiness of the fanfare tune that announces the arrival of a train. Get caught doing a little jig by an American lady. With a wry smile she tells me that it loses its appeal after 8 years! 😉

We are fortunate with the weather. Two weeks prior the city was experiencing highs of -5! As it is, it’s cold, but not too crazy. We head over to Namsan Mountain Park. End up strolling through Itaewon and some very trendy districts. No real agenda, just a nice stroll, absorbing the atmosphere in this undoubtedly cool city.

We head over to Gyeongbokgung Palace. Local visitors here hire traditional dress known as hanbok. Makes the whole place feel incredibly atmospheric. Enjoy the contrast of a 14th century palace, with the city in the background. Jenn buys a necklace from as street vendor on the way home. Turns out she’s really lucky as it is a one off piece! One born every minute! 😉 

Next day we head over to Gangnum, a place now synonymous with the god-awful song by Korean rapper, Psy. Our tour is led by a lady in her thirties who leads us on a journey to discover ‘the dark side of Seoul’. She begins by giving us some background on what life in South Korea is like for the younger generations, who describe it as ‘Hell Joseon’ (a hellish, hopeless society). My interest is immediately piqued, given that from what I’ve seen thus far, people seem relatively happy. 

South Korea has the highest suicide rate in the world. Seemingly, life is a bit of a pressure pot for South Koreas youth. Parental pressure is extreme in terms of education. Competition for elite universities is fierce, and the corporates such as Samsung recruit exclusively from these schools. School children, with affluent parents, attend hagwon (private colleges) outside of school hours, working until as late as 22.00, when legislation requires that they close. Everyone is stat ranked. Children are ranked in their class, in their school, and nationally. Sounds pretty intense. 

Working hours in South Korea are extreme. Having worked hard to secure a position, legislation caps working hours officially at 52 a week (a recent attempt to raise it to 69 failed). Reality is that many work far longer, the hours are just not recorded. 

Yet working hard does not solve the biggest issue facing young workers. Over 80% of the population live in South Koreas cities, where both rent and house prices in comparison with salaries, put independence beyond the reach of the vast majority. As a consequence more than 50% of people between 30 and 40 live at home, where parental pressure does not abate, just because they are no longer at school. 

We visit Plastic Surgery Street. A street full of cosmetic centres. Appearance is a big thing is South Korea, and whilst procedures are affordable (a dose of Botox can cost as little as £20 from a good surgeon), there is significant social pressure to improve ones looks. Jessica explains that in the same way as it would be considered lazy not to improve ones mind through study, it is considered equally lazy not to improve ones looks through surgery. 

The K-pop culture has seen the aspirational look pivot in recent years, with Asian beauty, taking precedence over the previously admired western features. Cutting one eyes, having fat inserted to remove the prominence of ones cheek bones, and laser surgery to create porcelain white skin are all common procedures. Such is the skill and affordability of the surgeons here that cosmetic tourism is big business. 

Jessica talks about the aspirational happy life. Good job, good partner, and good looks. All feels horribly competitive and very superficial. Blind dates are a big thing here, but seemingly potential partners are all looking for someone with a good degree, a good job, and bizarrely a compatible Myers-Briggs profile! 

The consequence of the foregoing is the highest suicide rate in the world, and a birth rate of just 0.7%. We are told that the bridge we crossed the first night is infamous as a result of jumpers. The statue was erected in remembrance of those that have died, and to serve as a reminder of the importance of compassion and hope.  

Interesting social tour, that provides real insight into the youth culture that would otherwise have been invisible to us. 

That evening we head over to Sungynyeum Gate. Interesting juxtaposition to see a 14th century gate in the middle of a modern intersection. 

We spend our final day in Seoul visiting Bukchon Hanok village. This is one of the few remaining places in the city where one can still see traditional houses. 

Seoul is famous for its animal cafes. Intrigued, we visit the Hongdae district. Visit one particular café where they have a raft of animals ranging from wallabies through to meerkats. Get introduced to an overly friendly raccoon. Think they may have misunderstood when I asked for something to keep my head warm…      

As much as I love animals, we have mixed feelings about the place and leave pretty swiftly. Cats and dogs is one thing, but some of these animals are well outside their normal environments. All look well cared for, but it’s not for us. 

Back on the street, we find all sorts of weird and wonderful outlets. One of the best air rifle ranges I’ve seen is easily accessible and inexpensive, whilst another stall offers Myers-Briggs tests. As we now know, it’s a must, if you are on the South Korean dating scene. 

We’ve had a great time in Seoul. It would be an easy city for a westerner to spend time, and there’s loads to explore. Was surprised by Jessica’s account of the reality of the city, and it’s somewhat sobering that owing to the birth rate, the New York Times claims that South Korean culture is in danger of disappearing altogether. It’s interesting that what appears on the surface to be a vibrant, modern, and characterful nation is actually imploding at a rate of knots. 

Definitely a place that we would return to, and one that I will follow with interest when we return home. 

With that, it’s off to the airport for a 5.5 hour flight to Ho Chi Minh.  

We were last in Cambodia back in 2017, when a flight cancellation reduced our time in Siem Reap to a single night. We both have very fond memories, and decide to return for a few days, before heading to Phnom Penh, which we didn’t get to last time. So, after a couple of nights in Bangkok to break up the journey from Myanmar, we’re off!

Siem Reap has over 50 temples, and getting round them all can be exhausting in the heat. So we decide to visit some of the more obscure sites that we didn’t get to last time.

Notwithstanding the foregoing, you can’t really come to Siem Reap and not see Angkor Wat. With a one day temple pass you automatically get entry to Angkor Watt at sunset the day before your tickets kick in.

A short tuk-tuk ride sees finds us standing in the grounds of this fabulous temple once again. A fusion of Hindu and Buddhist ideologies, the site is huge, covering over 402 acres. It feels decidedly busier than last time we were here, but we still manage to get the reflecting pool to ourselves. It’s impossible not to feel a sense of awe when visiting this site, considered by Guinness World Records, to be the largest religious structure in the world, and dating back to the 12th century.

In addition to the temples we also have fond memories of the night market in Siem Reap. As we stroll down Pub Street, it feels every bit as lively as it did 7 years ago. 75 cents buys you a half-decent Cambodian lager, and the vendors still sell a variety of massively unappetising insects, arachnids, lizards, and bugs.

I cant help but give money to a young street hawker. I’m a sucker for sad, puppy dog eyes. Quickly realise my mistake, as a plethora of her friends suddenly appear from all directions. Develop repetitive strain injury dishing out dollar notes, whilst Jenn looks on with her best ‘I told you so’ look!

Next day we start our tour by driving through the impressive Victory Gate en route to Bantaey Kdei.

Banteay Kdei is quiet, with very few tourists, and turns out to be one of our favourite complexes in the area. Two corridors lead to the centre of the temple, where a kindly police officer takes our photo, artfully positioning us so that it looks as though we are holding a flame. He goes on to tell us a little about the temple, including the fact that the holes in the walls were once filled with precious stones. Must have been incredible.

I’ve never known security to be so helpful and pleasant. Who’d have thought that a police officer would have the time to help tourists. He even offers to show us around the temple. Incredible, almost too good to be true… what a nice guy!

Then comes the inevitable… “Just $10…”

So, turns out that wearing a polo shirt with “police” written across it, doesn’t make one a police officer in Cambodia! 😉 Still, he seems like a nice guy and so we take him up on his offer. He may be a fraudulent cop, but he’s a great guide and shows us parts of the temple that we would otherwise have missed.

Vowing not to be hoodwinked by security in the future, we head over to Neak Pean. Within minutes I get sucker punched again when we stop for a toilet break. Lovely local lady selling 100% silk scarfs, hand embroidered with little elephants. Amazingly, she’s prepared to offer a discount to us as her first customer of the day. Who’d have thought it?! Her persistence is impressive. When Jenn goes to the bathroom, she realises that she is left with the limping gazelle… what could I do? I hand over $5 for this undoubted bargain. Once again, I get a look of scorn from Jenn when she returns who seems less than delighted with her gift!

The lake is more impressive than the temple. Jenn’s new scarf looks awesome in the sunlight, I feel fully vindicated in my purchase… that said, it’s hot, and the 100% silk scarf starts to slowly roast Jenn alive. We begin to suspect that the label might be a slight fabrication (pun intended)…

Next stop is Pre Rup temple. It’s a decent climb to the top and must have been utterly incredible in its prime. It’s hard to appreciate the scale unless you visit in person, utterly amazing!    

Although we’ve visited before. You can’t come to Siem Reap and not visit Ta Prohm. This is the temple of Tomb Raider fame. Huge trees have entwined themselves in the temples walls, and of all the temples here, it is this one that makes you feel as though you are Indiana Jones. It’s crazy busy, but worth the visit regardless.

The following day sees us drive over 5 hours to Phnom Penh. This is new to us, having not got this far on our last trip. It’s a place that we’ve both wanted to visit. We have learned during our time here about the tragic modern history of this beautiful country. Our tour guide on our last visit, recanted some of his personal experience of growing up in the shadow of Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge, and I’ve always felt that we had unfinished business here.      

NB: This not the most light-hearted post I’ll ever write – so you may wish to skip.

From our elevated hotel room you can witness a city in transition. Sky scrapers are are beginning to dominate the skyline, although much of the city remains undeveloped. A walk through the streets makes the contrast even more stark. It’s chaos – dodging motor-cycles, and street hawkers makes even a short walk challenging. Feels pretty safe for the large part, but it’s a not a place to let ones guard down.

We visit Tuoi Sleng Genocide Museum. $10 gains entrance and an audio guide, along with a map. The map warns that locations marked red may make for difficult listening and viewing, with user caution advised. This site was one of the multitudinous interrogation centres operated by the Khmer Rouge.

The abridged version of this dark part of history is as follows. Pol Pot was a revolutionary dictator, who ruled Cambodia as Prime Minister between 1976 and 1979 as General Secretary of the Communist Part of Kampuchea. The ideology involved resetting history to year 0, the start of a glorious future based on agricultural collectivism. City inhabitants were evacuated to the countryside, possessions and religion banned, and the entire population put to work in the fields for the greater good of the collective. Rice yield targets were tripled – an impossible task, particularly in light of the fact that the vast majority of displaced workers had no agricultural background.

Between the years of 1975 and 1979, the Khmer Rouge implemented an agrarian regime. So-called new people i.e. academics, people with soft hands, professionals, and religious leaders were interrogated, tortured, and executed. Over a 4 year period some three million people, 25% of the population were executed in the killing fields.

Tuoi Sleng, was one of the most notorious centres.

Upon entering, 14 marble graves mark the bodies of the prisoners that were found where they were murdered when staff fled the scene. Each of the 14 cells contain a metal bed, a munition box that served as a vestibule for human waste, and shackles. In each room, a black and white photo with the face obscured, shows the bodies as they were found. The site, holds no punches. This is humanity at its most base, and genocide laid bare.

Over the course of the tour, one learns about how uneducated Cambodians were enlisted as interrogators under the leadership of Kang Kek Lew. One of the hardest things to bear witness to, is the fact that normal people perpetrated this evil against each other. A stark choice. Either they tortured, mutilated, and betrayed each other – or that treatment was dealt upon them.

Forced confessions extending over thousands of words were extracted over weeks and months. Systematic beatings, water torture, hanging, and countless other forms of abuse were used to break down individuals and extract names of friends, colleagues, and family members.

We are particularly struck by the account of one New Zealander, Kerry Hamill. He was sailing around the world and happened to find himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Isolated from international help, he fell victim to the regime. However, even under torture, he maintained an ironic humour, citing the fact that he worked for Colonel Sanders of Kentucky in his written confession. Neither his passport, nor his sense of humour was sufficient to save him from execution.

It’s the most uncomfortable tour I can remember. Hard to imagine how something like this could have happened during my lifetime. Reminded of Hobbes. In the state of nature, the life of man is ‘solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short.’

In the afternoon we visit the Royal Palace Gardens. The beauty of the grounds serves as an extreme contrast with our morning tour.

Next morning we take a tuk-tuk to Choeung Ek Genocidal Center, commonly known as the killing fields. The 45-minute journey is interesting and serves to reinforce the fact that this is a city of juxtapositions. Leaving the modern financial district, with its international hotels, one quickly finds oneself driving past local markets. The smell as we pass the meat stalls is pretty powerful. Uncovered, raw meat hangs from hooks in the 30 degree plus heat, with one vendor boasting the full carcass of a cow. Its stomach-churning stuff.

Feels like a suitable precursor to what follows. Choeung Ek was the site of one of the myriad of killing fields that were uncovered after the fall of the regime in 1979. Hidden from the outside world, as many as 10,000 victims were executed at this one location.

Again, an audio tour brings the atrocities to light in an unflinching manner. The centre of the site is marked by a commemorative stupa. Even from afar, the open doors reveal, case after case of human skulls. It is intended to shock and awe.

There is little left of the original infrastructure. Undulating ground marks mass graves. Fragments of bone surface daily and are collected once every few weeks. As one walks around, fragments of human remains and clothes are clearly visible. At one stop, an assortment of bones have been collected in a glass box. Casually sat on top is a cup containing hundreds of teeth. It’s deliberately hard viewing and hard listening. The audio includes testimony from guards, executioners, and those who lost everything in the genocide.

Prisoners were dispatched in a myriad of gruesome ways. Perhaps the most poignant, being a tree used to dash children’s heads before they were unceremoniously chucked in a neighbouring pit. The tree which was found covered in unimaginable remains, is now marked with ribbons as a symbol of hope.

This site is just one of many across Cambodia. Many have yet to be discovered.

I’m struck by several things. One, this happened within living memory. After the party was overthrown with the help of the Vietnamese, interrogators and executioners returned home, living amongst the people whose lives they destroyed. Two, this happened under the watch of modern Western governments. Three, many people believe this could easily happen again.

When you bear witness to this type of crime, the past is difficult to imagine and even harder to believe. There are still many who live in denial. Some Cambodians claim that this entire episode is a fiction, a lie told by the perpetrators from Vietnam. The hard hitting nature of the genocide museum and the killing fields, is an attempt to overcome this resistance and help people understand what happened, to accept it, and to try and ensure it never happens again.

Cambodia is a beautiful country, with the most incredible ancient history. It is also a country with a dark past. I hadn’t intended this post to be quite so sombre, but, equally I don’t believe these things should be sugar-coated. If the government here have the bravery to invite witnesses to acknowledge the atrocities of the recent past, then the least I can do is to share that message.

We leave for Hong Kong a little wiser than when we arrived.

We were originally due to travel to Myanmar in April 2020. There were two things that I was really excited about, the first was ballooning over Bagan, and the second was visiting Wa Ale – a newly opened eco retreat in the Andaman Sea. Unfortunately, fate conspired against us, and our trip was cancelled on the back of the Covid lockdowns. We resolved to visit when circumstances subsequently allowed.

However, it looked as though we were never destined to visit the region when a military coupe was launched in 2021 and has raged ever since.

Not people to be easily dissuaded, and encouraged by friends in the village, whose son lives in Myanmar, we decided to try and make at least an element of our trip work. The northern part of Myanmar is a no-go zone. It’s literally a warzone. However, we figured we could make Wa Ale work. The archipelago is safe, and the management team at the resort assured us that they could safely and efficiently get us in and out of the country.

So, after a flight from Bangkok to Ranong we finally find ourselves at the Thai border looking across a relatively small expanse of water towards Kawthaung. A representative from Wa Ale meets us at immigration and together we take a short boat ride to Myanmar. As we get closer to the dock, we see Brahminy Kites flying overhead, gold temples poking through the canopy of a neighbouring island, and an entourage of staff waiting to greet us on arrival. It immediately feels like a very special place!

The manager of Wa Ale, Aung, has travelled to meet us, and greets us at the boat. Together with his team, they have us processed through immigration (which is basically a shed) in a matter of minutes. Even though we have previously completed digital visas, it is still impressively slick. Before my proffered cold towel has even had a chance to warm in the tropical heat, we are loaded onto another boat, and are heading into the Mergui archipelago.

If the South Pacific has 50 shades of blue, the Andaman has fifty shades of green!

As we travel towards our home for the next week, Aung explains that we are the only guests on the boat, and in fact, the only guests on the entire island!

Wa Ale, was built in 2018, by Christopher and Farina Kingsley. Aung has been there from inception, helping the Kingsleys to build the resort. As he explains, they had shared a dream. The result is a 14-bedroom eco-resort set on a private island. Although they had proactively approached the government with a proposal, it was not plain sailing, and the government invited competitive tenders. Fortunately, the team were well prepared and were awarded the lease – unsurprising given their passion for the project. The team built everything from the ground up. In parallel, the Lampi Foundation was established to fund social and conservation projects.

Fair to say that we love Wa Ale, from the moment that we arrive. The tide is out, and we are met on the wet sand by golf buggies that whisk us through the mangroves and jungle to the main pavilion. The staff are warm and welcoming and even though we are severely out-numbered, we quickly feel ridiculously spoiled and well cared for.

We’ve chosen to spend our time in one of the tree houses that sit sympathetically within the jungle, framing the beach. From our vantage point in the canopy we can see the green waters and a long stretch of beach. A pretty substantial spider interrupts our view of the sea and serves as a reminder that this is a very tropical spot. If any further evidence were required, we soon become familiar with our resident Tokay Geckos that live behind the wardrobe.

We head out to explore the aptly named Turtle Beach and find ourselves outside the rather lovely river café, overlooking the sea. It’s all a little mind-blowing, if truth be told. We have this gorgeous beach, the bar, and everything else here entirely to ourselves. I’ve played so called ‘millionaires golf’ before – i.e. times when you have the entire course to yourself and don’t see another player. This is the travelling equivalent…

We sit with cocktails watching the sunset, and reflect on how incredibly lucky we are. No two people should have this to themselves – it’s too much. That said, we feel incredibly grateful, and know that this is a never to be repeated experience.

We head over for dinner, where Aung introduces us to Larisa, the islands resident yoga instructor. Jenn has been doing yoga for years, and I’ve always fancied giving it a go, but never quite got round to it. This feels like a great opportunity to break my duck, and we agree to a 6.45 wake-up call and yoga at 7.30.

If we felt spoiled before, then by the time we are finished with dinner, it feels as though we have reached new heights. Allan’s food is really excellent, and the waiting staff are impossibly kind.

Feeling almost giddy, we head back to our room, through the torch-lit jungle. It’s amazingly noisy! Literally a cacophony of sound. We’ve heard cicadas before, but these are on acid! The noise is incredible and very atmospheric. Apparently, some species of cicada can produce a call in excess of 120 decibels! Back in our room, where the staff have prepared mosquito nets over the bed, the waves crash on the rocks below, competing with the cicadas for attention. Complete sensory overload!

We wake naturally with the light. In actual fact, it’s a combination of light, and the resident troop of monkeys crashing over our roof that wakes us – serving as a reminder of where we are.

A walk along the beach takes us to my first-ever yoga class! As yoga settings go, this is pretty hard to beat! So far, so good.

Jenn hasn’t practiced yoga for over 7 months so Larisa kindly decides to take it easy on us. That said, I find the basics pretty tough. Turns out breathing is far harder than I thought! 😉 Quickly discern that yoga is about concentration, focusing on your breath, and moving gracefully through fluid movements. Unfortunately for all concerned, grace and fluid movement come a long way down my list of personal attributes! But I give it a go, and notwithstanding my appalling levels of competence, I enjoy the challenge and the morning stretch.

After a hearty breakfast we head out snorkelling with our guide, William. Really lovely guy who is here for a month from Thailand. Before we head out, we are introduced to two baby turtles. They are being cared for at the resort until they are strong enough to be released, which may be as long as two years. Beautiful little things!

The house reef is teeming with fish, with a strong current that makes it effortless to cover the area.   

That afternoon I start my favourite activity in the jungle – wandering around with my camera. I love the place! Literally everything moves! There are countless butterflies, Oriental Pied Hornbills, Drongos (black bird below with crazy tail feathers), and plenty of macaques. It’s the type of place where you know full well that for every one creature you see, there are hundreds of eyes silently watching as you crash around.

Day two of yoga starts gently. However, I take the instructions very literally and pay close attention to what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m slightly perplexed when, with my weight supported by my left arm, and my right arm extended, Larrisa invites us to take our left hand and stretch it towards the sky. Panic! Day two and I’m being invited to levitate! Feels pretty like pretty advanced stuff! 😉

Love hearing about Larisa’s story. Heralding from Romania, she had 4 days notice about her seasonal placement in Myanmar. For most, that would be a hard no. Full credit to Larisa, she jumped at the opportunity and the rest is history. Brave decision, but what a reward.

We have a busy day visiting two local fishing villages. The first, and largest of the two, is a Buddhist community, where we are afforded the opportunity to visit a local school during lunch break. The sweets that we’ve brought with us are quickly distributed amongst the giggling children. Not sure they have ever seen anyone quite as white as me before! Jenn is given flowers by some of the children, creating a passing resemblance to Princess Di! Makes me smile.

The village is interesting, although I would describe the attitude of the villagers (particularly the males) as ‘strongly indifferent’. Feel safe enough, but also feel slightly intrusive. One of the most interesting aspects of the village is the two communities that co-exist here. Some of the fishermen have permanent dwellings, whilst a second group, the sea gypsies are largely nomadic. The latter, live aboard their boats, moving from place to place and living a subsistence lifestyle. Children are not schooled, and they typically favour barter over exchanging money.

The second village is a Christian fishing village and the vibe is considerably more welcoming. We even get to meet the pastor of a beautiful green church, over fresh coconut juice. The village has been completely relocated in recent years following a devastating monsoon, during which many people lost their lives and the village was flattened. The Myanmar government down played the catastrophe and refused external aid. Very sad that the country lacks competent leadership (although who are we to talk in the West).

From here we are utterly spoilt with lunch on a secluded beach. Beautiful sand, warm water, and an excellent lunch. Could very definitely get used to this lifestyle!

As the sun starts to set, we make our way to the so-called Hornbill Island. Right on schedule large flocks of Plain-pouched Hornbills start to return to the island. We probably watch a couple of hundred over the space of about 45 minutes. At the same time more than a dozen kites circle the island. Pretty magical and the sight makes for some cool photos.  

As if that weren’t quite enough for one day, at dusk we head for yet another spot. Looking up we watch as a constant stream of flying foxes make their way out of the forests and into the darkening sky. What an amazing day!

We decide to take it easy the following day with obligatory yoga, ahead of a lazy day on the island. That said, I continue my nature walks, trying desperately to capture the tiny red Crimson Sunbirds that seem to want to evade my camera. In the evening we hike up to a view-point to watch the sunset. It’s pretty steep and I feel decidedly guilty at the fact that our guides are carrying a water cooler full of cold beer for us!

Part of the reason for the hike is to look for the Dusky Leaf Monkey (also known as the spectacled langur), but sadly they elude us.

The sunset when it arrives is beautiful. It’s somewhat tainted by a fishing boat making its way perilously close to the island’s reefs. Technically no fishing is permitted within 3 miles of the shore, although it is almost impossible to enforce. It’s a great shame.

As we walk to yoga the following morning, there is excitement on the beach ahead of us. Several of the staff beckon us over and are super excited to show us two green turtle hatchlings! We knew the eggs were overdue and had dearly hoped to see this!

We watch as the staff help to dig the turtles out of the sand. Turtles lay their eggs some two feet below the sand, so it’s a lot of work for the new arrivals to claw their way out of the sand before making the long journey to the sea.

Ordinarily, it would be an exhausting and perilous journey. Birds, crabs, and monkeys all enjoy turtle! They are tiny and completely defenceless. The odds of a turtle surviving to adulthood range from the most optimistic of c.1000 to 1, through to the most pessimistic of c.10,000 to 1! Obviously, I don’t find this out until later – pretty sobering reading. Grateful that the Lampi Foundation exists to try and tip the balance in the favour of these beautiful animals.

We watch as over 20 turtles gradually emerge. They are collected in a bucket before we take them down to the seas edge to release them into the wild. Cutting out the journey over the sand reduces the risk of land-based predators and helps them preserve energy. Really incredible experience – definitely makes it on to our Top 10 list.   

At the end of our yoga class, Larisa suggests that we pick goddess cards. Why not? In for a penny. I draw Saraswati (Goddess of Self-knowledge), whilst Jenn picks Khadijah (the mother of believers). I will paraphrase somewhat, but there is a very clear message here about me doing something more creative (which may or may not include playing more golf) when I return from our adventures, and a message that Jenn will support me in doing so by continuing her stellar career. 😉

Now, I may be choosing to interpret the cards a little broadly, but pretty certain, that was the basic gist. Who are we to argue with the cosmos. Although I jest, our cards do actually resonate with us.   

Our goddess revelations are followed by an afternoon of paddle boarding. The boards are pretty sturdy and very difficult to topple. Needless to say I fall in within minutes of leaving the boat! 😉 I manage to avoid the hefty number of jelly fish in the water and we make our way through the mangroves. Beautiful and very peaceful. At the end we reach a small waterfall that is used as a fresh water source by the locals.

Once back on the island I go off in search of the elusive spectacled monkeys. Aung has given me a good idea of where to find them. After nearly an hour or so, I’m confident I can hear them, but they must be hiding in the trees.

Just as I’m about to give up, something brushes past my legs in the jungle, nearly necessitating a change of underwear! Fortunately, for me it’s just Jackie (one of the islands dogs). He darts past me and further into the forest. A few minutes later he starts barking and the monkeys respond in kind. The presence of the dog is enough to tempt one of the langurs out to investigate. Result! Thanks to Jackie I get clear line of sight, and manage a few decent shots. Would never have managed it on my own!

We visit Honeymoon beach that evening. It’s a short boat ride to the neighbouring beach. Beautiful spot. The second of Wa Ales projects is nearing completion at this site. The main resort has 14 rooms, whilst Honeymoon beach has been designed as a stand-alone get-away for a family or group of friends. Open next year and I’m sure it will be incredible! I already envy the guests.

That evening we are fortunate enough to meet the owner of Wa Ale, Christopher Kingsley. For several days the staff have been buzzing at the prospect of his arrival on the island. Rightly so, all of these people are employed because of his vision and support. We are fortunate enough to get to know him a little bit over desert that evening. Really inspiring story, about a guy who pursued his passion and spent two years on the island whilst his vision came to life. A long way from the comfort of New York City.

If you are interested you can read more here. Loved hearing about the early days of the project, the three PMs they burned through, and the process of buying 300 tonnes of reclaimed wood. Makes me smile listening to the attention to detail that was put into every element, including the furnishings. Also good fun hearing about some of the more colourful guests!    

All too soon it is our last yoga session. I’ve really enjoyed our morning routine and will certainly be sad to say goodbye to our ever-patient teacher. Feels as though I’ve made progress over five days and Jenn has increased her mastery. Suspect we may see Jenn on one of Larisa’s retreats in the not-too-distant future.

Final snorkel on the reef that afternoon and a last stroll through the mangroves brings our time on this magical island to an end. The fact that we have been the only guests certainly made our stay unique, but it would have been special regardless. I’ve loved being able to stroll around an island that is still wild, full of wildlife, and where secrets are revealed with persistence. Feel very fortunate to have been able to experience somewhere so unspoilt. The staff have made our experience even more special, and we have gradually relaxed into our incredible surroundings during our time here.  

The following morning, we are accompanied back to Kawthaung by Larisa and Aung. As we walk through the mangroves to the boat, we watch the monkeys eating crabs on the tree roots, and I’m tempted to get my camera out as two kingfishers pay their last respects.

Jenn and Larisa chat for most of the journey back whilst I kick back and watch the world pass by. Just as we arrive at the dock, we spot two dolphin, Myanmar’s passing gift.

It feels like this trip was a long time in coming, but I’m so glad that we persevered. While we’ve only been able to see a fraction of Myanmar, it is a country that has left us wanting more. Perhaps one day! Our next stop in Cambodia has a lot to live up to!        

After waving Jenn’s brother and his partner farewell we catch the high speed train from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng. As ever, efficient and on time. The queuing lines on the station concourse always make me smile out here – painted strips that tell people where to queue in single file, and which are rigidly adhered to. Imagine that system in the UK!

Our home for the next three nights is on the Nam Song River, overlooking karst mountains. Very pretty and atmospheric. The river is a hive of activity with small boats tearing up and down all day long, complete with waders looking for river weed (local delicacy). There’s a pretty cool bridge that connects two sides of the village, serving both pedestrians and a myriad of motorbikes. It’s fair to say that the bridge is somewhat patched, requiring careful footing to avoid the gaping holes whilst not getting hit by a moped!

We decide to take a hot air balloon over the valley. Incredible value at less than £100 each. Get to watch all four balloons being inflated before heading off into the beautiful hills. It’s a great way to see this part of Laos. The mountains and river are stunning, but flying over the town is also interesting. Far more orderly and developed than I might otherwise have imagined.

Two days disappear in a flash and before we know we are headed back on the train to Luang Prabang. Get back in time to hop up the Ngern view point, return to our favourite restaurant, and visit the National Museum.

Next morning we are up early to join our slow boat to Thailand. Leaving the hotel at 6.30am we are pleasantly surprised to find our boat with room to spare and just a handful of friendly fellow travellers. We are treated to a French Breakfast, consisting of a croissant and coffee, as we start our journey. Can only imagine that any self-respecting French chef would weep at the description. 😉

Our guide for the two-day journey is a local lad called Sen. Schooled as a monk until he went to college, he’s a great person to have to educate us as we make our way up the river. For example, did you know that Laos is the most heavily bombed country in history? According to one source, ‘the US from 1964 onwards, dropped the equivalent of a plane load of bombs every eight minutes, 24 hours a day, for nine years.’

The first thing that strikes me about the river, is the complete lack of birds. You’d expect to see thousands in a river valley lined both sides with forests. In response to my question, Sen explains that the locals have eaten a lot of them. He elaborates by explaining that the only things that locals won’t eat are tables, chairs, and other people! Everything else is fair game. Pans out that there is some element of hyperbole to that statement – they also don’t eat flies, mosquitos, and cockroaches. 😉 I find this out when looking at an illustrated page of Laos insects and Sen running his finger down the list going ‘we eat, we eat, we eat..’ He’s particularly partial seemingly to praying mantis.

We stop en route at the Pak Ou Caves. The caves are a major pilgrimage site for Buddhists in Laos, but it also serves the Hindu faith. Locals protect the some 4000 statues of Buddha day and night, after a number of them were pilfered in recent years. End up buying a painted snail shell. Was impressed by the ingenuity. Take a seemingly useless item and turn it into something beautiful. Suspect it won’t survive the next 5 months!

Lunch on the boat is excellent and we pass the time watching the world go by and getting to know some of our fellow passengers, a retired couple from Lancashire and an electrician from Ealing. Unlike Taiwan, where we barely saw any westerners, Laos is gaining in popularity as a tourist spot. It’s a reasonably industrious place, with the government having allocated land to private hands some years ago. Thus we watch farming, fishing, and lots of gold panning. On a good day a villager can make $50 or more.

We stop at Pakbeng for the evening. Our hotel is set high on the hills and bizarrely there are only 3 people staying there! Stunning view over the river valley and nice place to watch the sunset.

The following day is a long one. Up and on the water again for 6.30am. Visit a local village in the morning. There are 49 main ethnicities in Laos, not all of whom share language and custom, so we visit our guides’ people. Interesting to see a village outside of the town. As one would imagine – pretty basic. We visit the local school, disrupting class with an offering of books and some footballs, kindly donated by our friends from Lancashire. School in a rural village costs c. $20 a year, per child. Seems basic but adequate and the majority of the village children are in attendance. The makeshift seesaw (see below), serves as a reminder of how good we have things in the west.

The rest of the journey is similar to the day before, the scenery varying little over our c. 300km journey. Actually makes for a very relaxing ride. You never feel you are missing much when you read for a while, but there’s always something to look at when you’re so minded. We arrive at the border at around 16.00. We are then shuttled from the boat across to the Thai border, where we pass immigration. Fairly slick. It’s then into a taxi for a circa 5-hour road journey to Chang Mai. By the time we arrive at 22.00, we’ve been travelling 16 hours!

We are only in Chang Mai for two nights. Sadly, our one full day is somewhat curtailed by a stomach bug that I picked up somewhere on the Mekong. Struggle to leave the room, but manage a short walk. Shame, but could have been a lot worse, and we have been here before.

From here we fly to Bangkok for an evening in an airport hotel before making our way to Myanmar! More to follow on that next time…              

It’s been 7 months since we’ve seen family, so we are both very excited to arrive in Bangkok where we are due to meet Jenn’s brother, Alex and his partner, Scott. Even the lengthy immigration queue does little to dampen our spirits. The queue does however, mean that rather than arriving at the hotel early, we actually bump into each other in reception as we check in. What are the chances? They’ve flown from Hong Kong, we’ve flown from Taipei, and we arrive at the lobby within minutes of each other.

Our hotel is the perfect place to chill out for a couple of days. We catch up over Japanese food, sake, and excellent cocktails…

I also decide that a hair cut is in order. My mother-in-law is the only other person I know who has had a hair cut in this fair city. It has gone down in legend. Going back some years now, Yvonne had asked for her hair to be cut by the small amount she was demonstrating to the stylist with her fingers. About half-an-inch off. Pretty safe…

Unfortunately, the gesture was taken to mean, that, that, was the actual length of hair she desired. Thus rather than having half-an-inch removed, she was left with that amount of hair uniformally! Fortunately shorthair suits her and she took the incident in better humour than I would have done!

The story spurs me to research extensively on Google for an English speaking salon. Manage to avoid any major disasters. That said, my stylist doesn’t speak any English and my requests are funnelled through an interpreter. Pretty surreal.

New Years Eve finds us doing very little and saving ourselves for the evening. The hotel is in a pretty quiet part of town. In fact, it’s far cleaner, and less frenetic than my memories of the last time we visited. It’s all rather civilised. Aside from the giant water monitor lizards and the somewhat unpleasant aroma from the nearby canal, you could almost be in any major city in the world.

The sanity and tranquillity was however, never destined to last long in Bangkok at this time of year. After a few cocktails to get us underway in the hotel bar, we head out for the main event, a fireworks party on the river. Given that we are all purportedly intelligent people, it stands to reason that none of us would have had the foresight to book a taxi! The consequence is either a lengthy wait or braving a tuk-tuk. We opt for the latter… interesting experience to say the least!

We manage to arrive miraculously unscathed! The entertainment is billed as being a retro 70-80s band. I don’t state this lightly, when I claim, without hyperbole, that the band is the worst I have ever listened to! The female vocalist would be just about acceptable at an amateur karaoke night, whilst the male vocalist should never be allowed near a microphone. That said, it doesn’t seem to matter and everyone appears to be having a great time.

The live massacre of hits (from every era apart from the 70s and 80s – ironic huh?!) by our vocalists, is interspersed by drag artists (at least we think they were drag artists) performing (pun intended) amongst the tables. It’s certainly a spectacle and good fun!

Jenn and I were last in Bangkok for New Years Eve back in 2016. We had booked a riverside hotel with a view, in order to watch the legendary fireworks. Unfortunately for us, King Bhumibol passed away in October of that year, and as a result the country was in official mourning. Result, no fireworks. Not a single one!

No such issues this time, with spectacular fireworks marking the start of 2024! We make it back via tuk-tuk just in time for a glass of champagne in the hotel bar before closing.  

Next day we fly together to Laos. Apparently, the country is up and coming on the tourist trail. At least that’s what Scott tells us! 😉 The landscape as we come in to land is certainly pretty special.

Our days in Luang Prabang are pretty laid back for the most part. The weather is perfect, hot during the day and markedly cooler at night. We explore some of the temples, enjoy the ridiculously atmospheric riverside at sunset, and eat our body weight in local cuisine.

To the latter point, we decide, collectively (although championed by Jenn) that a local cooking class would be a nice idea. We duly make our way to the Tamarind cooking school. The first thing to say about the school, is that it is outside and next to a very scenic lake. It’s pretty jungly here, so my internal mosquito alarm starts to ring violently. The irony is not lost on me that we are learning to feed ourselves at the same time as being royally fed upon. Circle of life and all that!

Anyhow, the cooking class is good fun. We learn to make dipping sauce, sticky rice, Mok Pa (fish in banana leaves), and have good fun stuffing minced chicken into lemon grass stalks! Fair to say that none of us are natural cooks, but we do manage to produce a reasonably passable meal. I think it was aided by the fact that chilli is very forgiving, and there was a lot of it!

Nevertheless, we feel pretty pleased with our nights work, until Alex mentions that he’s not feeling great. Given that he bows out early from our post-dinner drinks, we go to bed slightly nervous for him. He did after all have to partner me in the al fresco kitchen!

The following morning we are all due to head to Kouang Si waterfall.

Alas, Alex has spent all night being ill! We are not sure of the exact cause. There was mention of an undercooked sausage at breakfast, the heat may have been a factor, but it feels most likely that he had managed to poison himself (ably assisted by your truly). Fair to say that we all feel gutted for him. Never nice being ill and in this instance it serves to deprive him of the days activity.

Whilst Alex convalesces the rest of us head out (pirates code in this family – fall behind, left behind 😉). Together with our guide, we make our way through interesting jungle, complete with the most amazing variety and quantity of butterflies we’ve ever seen. They may even have out numbered the spiders, of which there were a multitude!

The waterfalls themselves when we arrive are worth the 3 hour trek. The large number of tourists that have made their way there by car, suggests that we are not alone in our appraisal. There is also a moon bear sanctuary. Nice to see the locals doing what they can to protect their wildlife.

Even as we enjoy our buffalo ice-cream on the journey home, there is a slightly sad edge, on account of our stricken comrade (even pirates have hearts). Would have been nice if we could have all shared the day together.

Still, Alex is nothing if not resilient and he manages to join us for dinner that evening.

On our final morning together we enjoy the delights of a café bar overlooking the ever evocative Mekong river. Alex and Scott and due to fly to Bangkok that afternoon, before heading home, whilst Jenn and I are travelling further south by train. Can’t believe that our few days together have come and gone in a mere blink.

Feel very fortunate that we are able to do these things, and grateful that Alex and Scott made the effort to come and join us. It’s great to have unique experiences, but even nicer when you can share them with family and friends. What a great start to 2024!

Happy New Year!   

Taipei, after an eleven hour flight from Auckland, is definitely a shock to the system. You know you’re not in Kansas anymore when the taxi driver literally runs to put the luggage in the boot, and is back and ready to drive before you’ve even had time to take your seat. Very efficient!

Driving into the city the thing that strikes us is the dark. We’ve spent six months in warm, very bright places, so winter in Taipei is an assault on the senses. That said, by all accounts it is the time of year to visit, given that the summer is notoriously hot and humid.

I confess, I know very little about Taiwan. As a child, it felt as though pretty much everything was manufactured in Taiwan. But outside of that, an established monopoly on semi-conductor production, and the much-publicised tension with China, I know precious little about the country we’ve just landed in.

It comes as a very welcome surprise to find that Taipei is pretty-big on Christmas festivities! The hotel has a large tree, lots of decorations, and Christmas music is playing in abundance. Our room on the 28^th floor has views over the city. Again, what strikes us both is the dark. By now it’s night time and it feels like there are almost no lights on outside. It’s a little eerie, and not aided by the fact that the hotel is also dimly lit. Takes some adjustment having just left southern New Zealand where it was still light at 22:00!

We spend four days in Taipei, visiting Bao-An and Confucius temples, the Chiang Kai Shek Memorial Hall, and hiking the elephant trail. It’s an interesting fusion of cultures with Chinese, Japanese, and British influences. Language barriers are not too challenging, with most places speaking basic English.

Taipei 101, at over 1600 feet high, was the tallest building in the world when it was completed in 2004 (it now ranks 11th). Somewhat surprisingly, the rest of the city is less high-rised and has a slightly shabby, almost neglected, air to it. On the ground level, the streets are lined with tiny shops, garages, and eateries. Less high tech than I’d imagined. We feel very safe walking around and unlike some Asian cities, we draw very little attention, despite a distinct lack of western faces.

The hike up Elephant Mountain serves to highlight the fact that the city is literally carved out of very tropical looking jungle – wouldn’t take long to reclaim.

Taipei zoo is by repute one of the best in the world. It is also one of the few remaining places outside of mainland China that has a giant panda. I decide that, that alone makes it worth a visit. Jenn is less taken with the idea and decides to relax at base camp. That means navigating the underground system on my own, always a concern!

The entry fee is exorbitant at £1.50! 😉 It’s a huge place and worthy of its reputation. It has an impressive collection of seemingly well cared for animals, many of which are in outdoor enclosures making for half decent photos. Great place to wander around. I was fortunate that the resident panda, Yuan Zai, decided to make an appearance despite the cold and drizzle. Such cool animals!

The food in Taipei is as one would imagine for an Asian capital city, very international. From the night markets serving a host of weird and wonderful local delicacies, through to high-end Italian bistros, there’s a bit of everything. We even manage to find a pub that serves traditional turkey dinners. Most efficient Christmas meal we’ve ever eaten – served and cleared with military precision!

In a blink it is time to say good bye to Taipei and take the high speed train to Taichung. Very easy, very efficient and everything runs like clockwork. Watching the world pass by the window is pretty interesting. Mountains cover c.70% of the country, so the lowlands are densely populated, serving the circa 24 million inhabitants. We pass through miles of residential areas and a surprising amount of agricultural land. Apparently one can grow anything here aside from durian fruit.

At Chiayi we meet our driver for the next week, David. Great name and easy to remember! 😉 We are met and loaded into the car, with incredible efficiency. No time is wasted with elaborate greetings or introductions despite the fact that we are about to spend a week together. Mr Liaw, or Dr. Liaw as it subsequently transpires, is clearly a man that doesn’t suffer small talk gladly.

We have a 3hr drive to our hotel in Alishan. David’s English is pretty good and he gives pithy and concise information about places as we pass.

We make several stops along the way, including a tea plantation, covered in cloud. Makes for some interesting photos. Serves as a good preamble for our next stop, where we are invited to sample various local teas. Bit of pomp and ceremony and some very tasty offerings.

Our hotel is in Alison National Forest and set high in the mountains. After much debate and soul searching we get up at 4.30am the next day to take the train up the mountain to watch the sunrise. It’s a major draw among local tourists and the station is packed. As we stand in the queue, some locals take pity on us and give us two spare tickets! How nice. At the top, it’s as cloudy as we feared and there’s not much reward for our early start. That said, a short walk takes us to a different view point where the aesthetics are considerably better.

The rest of the day we spend walking through the beautiful forests in the park. When the Japanese arrived in the area there were c. 300,000 giant cedars, the oldest being 3000 years old. The Japanese cut down 100,000 of them, but had the foresight to plant a Japanese Cedar (far faster growing) for each felled tree. Over time the rest of the giant trees were logged.

The only remaining specimens of the original giants, are those with branches. Typically cedars grow straight and true. Anything with excess branches was considered too much like hard work, and left where it stood. They are pretty hardy trees, with new generations growing from the original roots. It’s a truly stunning wood and would be amazing to see in the summer when the cherry blossom is out.

The sunset from the hotel terrace is beautiful. A sea of cloud…

We wake on the morning of our first Christmas Day overseas to a bright blue sky. We have a nearly four hour drive to reach Guguan, an area famed for its’ hot springs. We stop en route at a bamboo forest, really lovely walk, and definitely a Christmas first.

Our new hotel is Japanese themed and set in a stunning water garden at the foot of the mountains. We waste little time heading out for a hike. Super steep, but good exercise ahead of Christmas lunch. The town itself has foot spas with thermal water filled with little nibbling fish – Jenn can’t help herself.

As lovely, and alternative, as Christmas Day is, we both miss home, particularly when our dinner is served! What I wouldn’t have given for some pigs in blanket and roast potatoes! A dip in our very own onsen, overlooking the mountains though serves as reasonable compensation.

Later that evening, we head down into town, where there are a wealth of Christmas lights. Very festive. It is certainly a Christmas that we won’t forget, but it’s fair to say that there is no place like home!

Boxing day is a relaxed affair, walking the local trails, chilling out in the onsen, and experiencing a 9 course traditional Japanese meal. I remember now why I struggled so much with the food in Japan! 😉  

Our next stop in Taiwan is at the Sun Moon Lake. After a three hour drive we spend a very pleasant day visiting Wenwu temple before heading out on a boat trip. Not entirely sure why the boat has a horses head sticking protruding from the bow, but after a few days in Taiwan, one just kind of rolls with the punches. We enjoy walking around the local town and sampling the street food (wild boar sausages and black tea ice cream) before heading back to the hotel to relax overlooking the lake and mountains.

In the finest tradition of Jenn’s non-stop itineraries, we have a four hour drive next day to Xiulin. The rain is pretty biblical as we leave. Shame, as the road climbs to 3275 metres, and without the cloud, the view would no doubt be stunning. As it is, we have to settle for moody and atmospheric! The road itself is pretty special, with barely enough space for two cars to pass and some impressively tight hairpin corners.

The long journey gives us a bit of time to get to know our driver a bit better. Unless asked direct questions he doesn’t give much away about himself. With a bit of gentle probing it turns out that he has a PHD in financial management from Washington State University, lectured for 26 years, and has written 7 textbooks. He’s a passionate advocate of the theory of efficient markets and clearly a pretty smart guy.

Once we arrive we spend the afternoon in Taroko Gorge, complete with two impressive suspension bridges, originally built by the Japanese to assist in reaching the elusive local tribes.

The town has a healthy population of Formosan rock macaques, a type of monkey endemic to Taiwan. They tend to congregate around the 7Eleven in hope of stealing food from unsuspecting shoppers. Always think monkeys make good models, very expressive faces.

Next day, before heading back to Taipei we take a morning stroll literally through the mountain. Lots more monkeys and some very nice scenery. Our journey takes us along the Pacific coast, through paddy fields, and back into the urban populous.

Taiwan was a slightly left field addition to our trip. It is not a destination awash with Western tourists and would not have been particularly easy to navigate without a driver. It is a beautiful country though with a rich a vibrant culture which we are very glad to have seen. It’s probably not a place to push to the top of your must see list, but it is definitely worth a visit if you are in this part of the world.

With that it is off to Bangkok for New Year. We are meetings Jenn’s brother and his partner Scott. Excited to see them both after six months on the road!

Our last stop in New Zealand is at Te Anau. During the two-hour drive from Queenstown we come across a thick bank of cloud. Our hearts sink. We had deliberately left early in order to hike through Gertrude Saddle. However, it can not be attempted in anything but clear, dry weather. This part of the world averages 18m of rain a year! Fortunately for us, the travel Gods are smiling on us, and we drive out the other side of the offending cloud after about 30 minutes. Blue sky greets us as we near our destination and we stop at the Mirror Lakes en route. Well worth the small detour!

We’ve been told that even a short walk up the valley is worth the effort, even if one doesn’t make it up the mountain. It’s described as an expert track, with a duration of 4-6 hours. With the weather as it is, it would be rude not to give it a go!

The valley floor is one of the most beautiful that we’ve seen. It’s like walking through a botanical garden, but one framed by mountains. Despite being summer, there is still snow three quarters of the way up the slopes, with waterfalls cascading at regular intervals, fed by the melting ice.

The ascent, whilst beautiful, is not for the faint-hearted. Much like Cradle Mountain in Tasmania, it includes a hefty amount of bouldering, with sections laid with cable, to assist the climber. I hate heights and nearly call it quits before the Black Lake. However, a couple walking back down from the summit tell us it is worth pushing on and boldly state that it’s ‘the best hike they have ever done in their life.’ Quite the accolade. Feels rude not to keep going with an accolade like that. They are quite right, the view is pretty spectacular from the top.

We are both dead on our feet by the time we climb back down. We make it back to our Airbnb running on fumes after a long day! Our accommodation is called the ‘Tin Shed.’ I guess that is a pretty apt description – but what a setting. Our shed is perched high on a sheep and deer farm overlooking the valley. Simply stunning!

Next day we are due to head into Milford Sound itself. It has a reputation for being perhaps the most beautiful spot in New Zealand. It’s described as being an all-weather location. In the rain, the waterfalls are resplendent. In the sun, the mountains are purportedly stunning. If the weather forecast is correct – we should see both. Heavy rain is forecast for the morning with sunshine in the mid-afternoon. We head out with our figures crossed and our hoods up!

In fairness it’s not the best start to the day. Despite the aesthetic charm of the Tin Shed, it is in the middle of nowhere and to hammer the point home, we wake up to no power and no water (which is fed by pump). The only water available is via an outdoor tap. Given that it’s hacking it down with rain and cold to boot, our al fresco wash is certainly refreshing but perhaps not quite what we had in mind!

Jenn’s logistical genius comes to the fore again today. She has pre-booked a driver for the day – which means we both have the luxury of being able to sit back and enjoy the view without worrying about timings and avoiding the insane local drivers. The drive is supposed to be as much of an experience as the destination itself.

It takes the best part of two hours to get into Milford Sound – but we make a brief stop at Gertrude Saddle – to compare and contrast with yesterday. What a difference a day makes! The cloud is low and menacing. No one will be attempting the walk today, although the rain has created a myriad of new waterfalls.

To get to Milford Sound one passes through the Homer tunnel, which is a 1.2 km long single-lane, unlit road that passes straight through the mountain. So dense is the rock that no supporting infrastructure is required.

On the other side we encounter something that I have been itching to see, a Kea. It’s a characterful parrot that is known for its cheek and misbehaviour. Sure enough it soon hops on top of our Tesla looking for rubber seals to eat. The car bears the scars from previous encounters. I’d be prepare to forgive it, it’s such a cool and beautiful bird!

The waterfalls in the Claddeau Valley are countless. It’s impressive.

It’s still raining when we arrive at the dock to board the boat that will take us onto the Sound, which is actually part of the Tasman Sea.

We encounter bottlenose dolphins, fur seals, and the most incredible waterfalls. In fairness to the captain, he gives passengers fair warning before heading towards one of the more powerful cascades. Despite the advanced notice, people still seem surprised when they get soaked from head to foot. Safely ensconced inside with a coffee, we have a great time watching the chaos! The sun also makes a welcome appearance.

On the way back to Te Anau, Jamie lets me drive the Tesla. Toying with getting one when I get home, so this was an extended test drive. Have to say I was pretty impressed. I drove 70 kilometres and touched the break twice – despite the hairpin corners.

On the return journey we can’t resist another Kea stop, pull over for to walk amongst incredible lupins, and walk along the shore of a lake so clear that we can see the salmon from the bank.      

Navigating rogue sheep, we return to the Tin Shed where power has been restored and cook a simple barbecue overlooking the stunning hills and bewildered cloven neighbours!

One of my dearest ambitions in the this part of the world is to see the aurora australis, otherwise known as the southern lights. We’ve seen the northern lights in Norway – but not many people talk about their southern counterparts. I have an app that reports solar flares and gives an indication of likelihood. To see the lights you need: to be a long way south (tick); altitude (tick); a clear sky (tick-ish); an early phase moon (tick); a good viewing platform (tick); and plenty of solar activity (fingers crossed).

It doesn’t get dark until 22.30 and the moon, although in an early phase, casts a decent amount of wholly unhelpful light. I sit outside with my camera and tripod for two hours. One of the frustrating things about the aurora is that sometimes you can’t make it out with the naked eye, but it may be visible through a camera on appropriate settings. The challenge is that you have to sit outside in the cold and dark, take a million photos, and hope that at some point you start to see some interesting hues. My two hour vigil is rewarded. The lights aren’t dancing, in the way that we’ve seen them in the northern hemisphere, but they are a beautiful purple!

The contrast with the dark night sky is pretty incredible. Milky Way on the left, southern lights on the right.

What a day! Milford Sound, Kea, and the southern lights!

Our last day in New Zealand sees us up bright and early. It’s another stunning morning. We’ve booked ourselves a late anniversary/early Christmas present. We’ve never been on a seaplane and figured there can’t be many cooler places to break our duck. It’s a short trip of 60 minutes, but we head up over the mountain and land on a lake that few people ever get to see. Taking off and landing on water is great fun, and the location is idyllic.

Well, I say the location is idyllic… it is certainly beautiful. However, one of the challenges with New Zealand is the sand flies. I’ve not mentioned this fact to date. But at the time of writing, Jenn and I have more bites than we can count. They are incredibly itchy and in my case resulted in a crazy rash that has managed to curtail my sleep for two nights on the bounce. Hence, even on a bright sunny day, people cover themselves from head to foot. This location is by far the worst that we have been to. They are everywhere!

Glad to get back in the plane after a twenty minute stroll in the solitude, that almost results in repetitive strain injury, such is the ferocity of my swatting.

Back in the plane a battle ensues. This mountain range was featured heavily in Lord of the Rings. However, no battle was fought as fiercely as the one that I am embroiled in with the sand flies. If you’ve seen Boromir fighting the orcs at the end of the first movie – this is similar. Overwhelming numbers, all hope lost… they are everywhere! It’s quite hard to take photos with one hand whilst frantically swatting with the other. I would like to think however, that I give a good account of myself and had any sand flies survived to tell the tale, it would have gone down in folklore amongst future generations of biting critters.

Having survived the battle of the sand flies, it’s back to Queenstown for a final Fergburger before headed to the airport and a flight to Auckland.

Both Jenn and I have mixed emotions as we start the next leg of our travels. We are excited about where we are heading over the next few months, but equally sad to be leaving New Zealand. We have really lucked out with the weather on the South Island, and when the sun shines in this part of the world, the scenery is as beautiful as anywhere we have ever been (including Patagonia and the Dali Desert). We both think that 5 weeks was a tad ambitious and that we could easily have filled two months here.

Aotearoa (Maori name for New Zealand) lacks the wildlife of Australia, it has maddening sand flies (that unlike most insects lack the decency to operate solely at dusk and dawn), it has the most ferocious sun of any country we’ve visited, (ozone layer is crazy thin here so you can get burnt in 15 degrees and overcast conditions), but it is stunning! I can fully understand why people rave about it.

Will certainly be sad to say farewell as we head for Taiwan tomorrow. But who knows, maybe we’ll be back one day…       

The forecast as we leave Wanaka is rain, and the wind certainly suggests that even if it were to remain dry, it would be more than a tad gusty! We hence decide on a wet weather day. Quick stop at Cromwell, a town recreated to an approximation of the old 1860s gold rush days, before heading to the cinema.

Our next Airbnb is gorgeous. The drive takes us through cherry farms, that rest in the foothills of the mountains, to a small vineyard. The owners are away for a few days so we have the place to ourselves. The double doors open onto a small patio overlooking a lake and vines. Easy to relax with a cup of tea and just take in the view.

We decide to head to Hook – which has the rather catchy (pun intended) slogan of from ‘lake to plate’. Any vegetarians may want to skip over the next few paragraphs…

Upon arrival we rent a rod and bait before heading out to the lake.

Fair to say that my early efforts do not go to plan! The seagulls arrive en masse, and attempt to eat the bait before it sinks too low into the water. This is clearly not their first rodeo and I soon begin to fear that I will have to return to base to refuel!

As it is, I’m spared that embarrassment, as before I run out of bait, the water-filled weight on my line snaps. So, I trudge back to request a new rod!

With my newly replaced rod, and with the seagulls pestering someone else (clearly an amateur), it’s down to serious business. Don’t have to wait overly long to get a bite. Takes a bit of landing, but fortunately I have a glamorous assistant on hand to help!

Beautiful salmon. In fact, it is so beautiful, that I really just want to throw it back in. But given that there is a hefty fine for doing so, and the fact that, that is not in the spirit of the outing, we dutifully head back to the kitchen where our fish is quickly dispatched and smoked.

It’s easy to take food for granted when you go to a supermarket or restaurant. But it is a very humbling experience to catch your own food, knowing that another creature has give its’ life (albeit not willingly) so that you might eat. Circle of life and all that. However, as a soft urban dweller, still feel a decent pang of remorse.

Of course, that pang is quickly eased by the fact that we eat the whole thing. It doesn’t get much fresher than that.  

A walk around the vineyard later that afternoon reminds us how lucky we are that people open up their homes for Airbnb. The river Clutha runs through the property and has a beautiful green hue with an impressively strong current. At the other extreme of the property is a view to the river valley. Again, gorgeous.

Given that it’s a clear night, and we are staying in a designated dark sky area, I try my hand at astral photography again. Have to wait until gone midnight for the sky to darken sufficiently. One of the nice things here is that it doesn’t get dark until much later than we’ve been used to in Oz. Reasonably pleased with the result…

We visit a couple of vineyards next day and take a nice stroll along the river. Very chilled! Feels strange seeing people having a Christmas meal, complete with crackers, under bright blue sky. Least Christmassy I’ve ever felt, it’s just doesn’t feel like Christmas outside of the UK. Miss the pre-Christmas dampness, overcast conditions, overplayed Christmas carols, and wilting tree! 😉 

Stop off at Welshtown, an old abandoned mining town, on the way home.

Our drive next day to Queenstown is lovely, as ever. The town itself is by far the busiest that we’ve visited in New Zealand. Really well set up for the tourists. You can do pretty much anything here that involves the great outdoors! We queue for a Fergburger – it’s a thing here. Never has a burger had more to live up than this one, after the best part of an hours wait. In fairness, it is pretty damn good!

Next, it’s up the gondola. Nice view over Queenstown and the Remarkables. We also buy a couple of tickets for the luge. Good fun and an accident waiting to happen! 😉

Following day it’s up at a reasonable time to drive an hour or so outside of Queenstown to the Routeburn trail. It’s a three-day walk for those who feel so inspired. We do a circa 20km stretch. Stunning views and some impressively wobbly bridges over ravines.  

Having knackered ourselves the day before, we are up early for a pack-raft hike. We have a lovely guide for the day, who takes us across private land fully loaded with rafts, paddles, waterproofs, helmets etc. Feel a little sorry for Jenn given that the pack is almost as big as she is!

The walk through the river valley is stunning and requires traversing the river at regular intervals. The tour literature advised to ‘bring shoes that you don’t mind getting wet’. I hadn’t quite expected to be wading through thigh-high water from the get-go!

At the turn, we inflate our rafts. Had visions of having to blow into a tube. Fortunately some clever person has invented an ingenious method, which is entirely new to me. One inserts what looks like a nylon pillowcase into a valve, wave the end around like a mad person to capture air, roll down, and push the newly created air sack through the valve. Surprisingly efficient way of inflating three rafts in rapid order.

With wet suits (it’s cold in the water), life vests, and helmets adorned (someone fell in yesterday and there are a large number of rocks), we make our way into a small gorge. I thought we had left behind brilliant colour water in the South Pacific, but wow! The water was unreal.

The subsequent trip back down to the car is really cool. At times it is fairly still, and thus incredibly relaxing. At others the wind gets up pushing us hard into the banks. My favourite parts though, are as we go over mini-rapids. At the mercy of the water and bit of an adrenalin rush as the water propels us onwards. Going over the rapids backwards (intentionally I might add) was also good fun! All too soon we are back at the car. Its nearly 17.00 by the time we get home. Without realising it, we’ve spent all day outside. Really great day out!

The following day we largely chill out in Queenstown having had two pretty full on days in quick succession. I can’t resist a walk through the botanical gardens though.

One more stop in New Zealand, and then it’s off to Taiwan. Can’t believe how quickly our time here has gone!

Our journey starts in heavy rain. Thick cloud obscures the mountains and we have to make a dash to the car! No respite from the previous day. For three hours of the journey the car’s wipers are working on overdrive. However, as soon as we reach the lakes it’s as though someone has pressed a switch.

Our Airbnb is up a seriously steep hill. Vertical ascent, but worth every degree of elevation when we arrive. What a view! The house is perched high above Lake Hawea with a panoramic view over the town, lake and mountains. Barbecue beckons amid the lupins. Who wants to stay in a hotel when you can pay a fraction of the price and have all this space to yourself. En route to stock up with provisions, we visit the Instagram hotspot of Wanaka Lake. The tree in the water makes for a popular destination photo and people are queuing to have their picture taken perched on a rock in front of it. Not quite sure what all the fuss is about…

While our host is showing us round, she gives us some pointers about things to do in the local area. Jenn lets her know that we are planning to hike Roy’s Peak (how could we not given that it’s named in honour of Jenn’s maiden name). Our host literally looks us up and down and says, ‘well you’re young and fit enough.’ Come again… Young? Fit? She goes on to explain that she couldn’t walk properly for two days when she did the walk ten years ago. Brilliant! Well done Jenn…

The weather is pretty decent as we head off, although cloud obscures the peak. We’ve been told that even on a cloudy day, it’s worth doing, as you walk above the cloud. It is however, 8km and 4500 feet straight up! There is a look out point near the top, which is sufficient for many. For braver souls (or perhaps more masochistic souls) there is the summit a further 40 minutes on.

We don’t get off to the best of starts. Jenn decides that she’s going to set a new tardiness record by stopping every few yards to stretch, do up her boot laces, and generally go at a ‘slugs pace.’ My mentioning this fact to her, did not go down very well. Explaining my rationale for making said observation did nothing to improve the atmosphere. It did however have the desired effect and whilst I may not have been popular we did at least pick up our pace. 😉

The views are beautiful as we climb and very peaceful, despite being a popular track.

The lookout when we eventually reach it is every bit as stunning as we’d been told.

We decide to push on to the summit. Probably the steepest part of the climb, but we are rewarded with a subtly different perspective and an opportunity to sit and have lunch. By the time we get down it feels as though we have earned our dinner – 16km and a little over 5 hours.

Next day, having said a reluctant farewell to our Airbnb, we make our way to Lake Pukaki. We are cheating today and doing a heli-hike. In New Zealand, helicopters are a thing. If you can put ‘heli’ in front of it then it’s game on. Heli-hiking, heli-skiing, heli-cycling and so on. The weather could not be more perfect. Blue sky and Mount Cook resplendent in the background.

There are only three of us today plus a guide. Our fellow hiker is a lovely Taiwanese lady, Jessie. Given that Taiwan is the next stop on our trip, it feels like we were fated to spend time together.

We fly up to the top of Glentanner Farm, which has spectacular views over the mountains and lake. We then hike down via a research A-frame hut, where we break for much needed brownies and beer (it’s what all good walkers eat). Decent 4 hour hike, but nothing in comparison with Roy’s Peak yesterday. I have also learned my lesson, and do not comment on Jenn’s walking pace.

Our Airbnb for the next two nights is in the middle of nowhere, on a sheep farm in Ben Ohau. Beautiful hut with a real fire and views over the fields and mountains. No one for company except rabbits and sheep. Pretty idyllic and complete with log fire.       

We spend a full day in Mount Cook National Park. The Hooker Valley trail is a popular one and given that the weather is still reasonably fair, there are a good number of walkers out and about. We end up walking it alongside a lovely lady from Surrey. Wind is incredible, making the suspension bridges interesting to say the least. Fun watching people’s faces as it sways in the wind!

Next day en route to Wanaka via the Lindis Pass, we stop along the river to admire yet more lupins. They are classified as an invasive species and destined to be eradicated by 2050. At one point we saw folk from the environmental agency spraying them with weed killer. Beautiful, but not welcome in NZ given the impact they have on local flora and fauna.

Our next stop is at a hotel. The rather charming Mahu Whenua. Plan is to do not a lot for the next two days. The views here are stunning and a great spot to relax. Doesn’t seem much need to tear about when one can sit with a glass of wine and just admire the 136,000 acres of protected land.  

Of course, we can’t sit still for long, so decide to take out e-bikes. Never ridden one before. Essentially, it’s a standard bike, but with battery-powered assistance. The various settings determine how much help one receives (although, there is no option not to peddle)! We are warned about the steepness of the track (recurring theme) and that the battery needs to be managed to ensure there is enough juice for the climbs on the way home. Jenn takes this advice to heart rather more than she might. As a consequence she engages the motor relatively sparingly. The result is that at the half-way point she abandons her bike and declares that she’s knackered and hates cycling!

The return journey is far more to Jenn’s liking, with her making better use of the well-rested battery. She even appears a little disappointed that it’s all over when we arrive home. In fairness, the return journey did seem to fly by!  

We are off to central Otago next. But before I signoff on this post, feels important to highlight a major milestone in our travels. We have reached the halfway point. We are six months in, with six months to go. I can’t quite believe that so much time has passed. When I look back it feels like we’ve covered a lot of ground and done an amazing amount. But six months? It’s true, time does fly when you’re having fun!

NB: As acknowledged at the outset of the trip, I know that many of you were concerned about what would happen to my hair on our journey. You will be pleased to know that I still have half of my VO5 styling wax. I attribute this to the fact that it has been so windy in most places that attempting to tame my hair has felt redundant, and to the fact that it has evolved into a more travel-friendly cut (style feels too strong a descriptor).

TAFN. Cheers!   

The 2 hour drive from Marlborough to Kaikoura is pretty epic. Unlike driving across Oz, the landscape is interesting and varied. Imagine if you will, driving from Derbyshire through to the Highlands of Scotland, but within a few hours. As we approach our destination, the road increasingly follows the coastline and when the snow-capped mountains begin to loom into view it just gets better!

Our Airbnb for two nights has been rated as one of the most dramatic in New Zealand. Upon opening the garden gate, it is immediately apparent why. Stunning views across the bay to the mountains. We are so taken with the view that we decide to open a bottle and order a takeaway, so that we can sit and eat whilst watching the colours change in front of us.

We wake in the morning to lovely weather, which is certainly not always a given in this part of the world. We head out to visit a nearby seal colony. From above, the whole area seems to be littered with seals, matched in number by the sea birds. As we wander along the beach we come across a lady who works for the conservation department. She informs us that it’s pup season. She points out two females that are studiously watching over new arrivals. 30 minutes old! They still look a little shell shocked to me – but very cute!    

The lady explains that numbers are declining with an increasing number of stillborns this year. Many of the mothers are struggling to get enough food. Depleted fish stocks mean that they have to venture further into the open ocean, where a heady number and variety of predators await. Orcas roam these waters as do a myriad of sharks. Very sad. Great though that the conservation department are monitoring the situation and doing what they can to redress it. The experience in light of the conversation is a little bittersweet.

In the afternoon we take a boat trip to look for albatross. There are 17 species in this part of the world (who knew) and we’ve never seen one in the wild. We are very fortunate that they manage to scrape the minimum numbers required to run the tour. As a consequence there are only four of us on board – happy days. So, with my brain taxing itself to recall the Rime of the Ancient Mariner, we head out to sea.

At length did cross an Albatross,

Thorough the fog it came;

As if it had been a Christian soul,

We hailed it in God’s name.

I thought we would spend our time searching the craggy cliffs. As it is we head straight out to sea and within a relatively short space of time we discover that we are being followed by a Giant Petrel (which looks very like an albatross) and a Wandering Albatross. The latter having the largest wingspan of any bird on the planet, up to 3m!

I hadn’t expected to be quite so impressed by these creatures. They skim the water with their wings almost touching the surf, easily outstripping our boat. Others join and it’s a mesmerising experience to watch them circle us as we head out to the open water.

It’s hard to tear ones eyes away from the albatross, but sighting several very rare Beaked Whales, merits a brief pause in proceedings. The whales are known for being able to hold their breath under water for over three hours and being reclusive. Hence our fleeting glimpse from afar is all we are blessed with. Pretty cool though.

Once we are a goodly way out, our guide stops the boat and releases a bait ball off the stern. It’s awe inspiring watching as four species of albatross swoop in and jostle for position. There is a very clear pecking order and it’s amazing to see how much one of these birds can actually eat!

The gulls that join serve to provide scale. In addition to the Wandering Albatross we are treated to Royal, White-capped, and Salvin’s Albatross. Although the size of the Wandering and Royal Albatross are impressive, both Jenn and I like the rather fetching, if somewhat sinister, looks of the Salvin.

My telephoto lens serves me well as the birds approach the boat, but is useless once they land. They are simply too big!

We both absolutely love watching the birds. Even better, a percentage of our fee goes towards protecting the species from the local fishermen who are responsible for killing the birds in their thousands. Clearly, they don’t know what happened to the Ancient Mariner! 😉

Really fabulous day in Kaikoura!

Next day we bid a fond farewell to our Airbnb, or more specifically, the view, and start a 2.5hr drive. We listen to Matthew Perry’s autobiography on audio book whilst driving. For a comic actor, it is a truly depressing tale! Addiction is a terrible thing. But again, the scenery is stunning and goes a long way to offset Perry’s account.

We have one night in Christchurch to break up the journey. A former boss of mine, Rachel, originally from New Zealand, has recently moved back to the South Island and we are due to meet for dinner. Really lovely evening, reminding me why Pearson was such a great place to work when I first joined over ten years ago.

Next day the sun is shining as we make the 3.5 hour drive through Arthur’s Pass. What a stunning place. Castle Hill is like something out of a movie. In fact, it is out of a movie, serving as the location for the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.

Tempting to stop to take photos every five minutes and easy to see why the roads are so perilous. Distractions abound. To that end I manage to get given the bird by a New Zealand truck driver who clearly felt that he had right of way over a converged bridge. At one point I didn’t think he was going to stop – so getting his middle finger feels like a good outcome! 😉

We stay in Hokitika for a night, again to break up the drive as we head south. We go from bright blue sky at Arthur’s Pass to cloud and rain in Hokitika Gorge. The mountains really do create weather rapidly! Despite the weather, the gorge is an incredible turquoise colour. We also see a Weka. A large flightless bird. For one moment I thought it was a Kiwi. Sadly not. But still pretty cool.

Following day we continue our journey with a 2 hour drive. Although the weather is lovely as we leave in the morning, again it starts to become increasingly mixed as we head towards the mountains. We are due to take a glacier flight – but we know that it is very weather dependent. It is easy to get stuck on the mountains and the cloud and wind can make conditions extremely dangerous.

Less than £200 gets you a helicopter trip to the glaciers. It’s not super cheap – but it’s pretty good value. Fox Glacier and Franz Josef don’t look much from the ground – but are truly impressive from the air.  Three hundred metre deep ice that stretches for miles. As we make our ascent, it feels like we have been transported by portal (or indeed a wardrobe) to a magical snowscape. It is beautiful. The glacier itself looks largely grey, but reveals sporadic pools of the brightest blue water you can imagine.     

We are unable to land owing to the wind and approaching cloud, so aerial view only on this occasion. The landing would literally have been a few minutes for a picture, so we haven’t missed out on much. Grateful that we got to go up at all.

We manage to get a few walks in locally, given that the weather forecast for the next day looks dire!

True to form, the forecast is spot on. As I write, it has done nothing but rain today. Truth be told, that is fine by us. Relaxing day in front of the fire listening to Christmas music. Play several games of chess with Jenn, which is good fun. She always attacks right from the get-go, gets herself in a good position, loses concentration, and gets decimated!

We pop out to a local kiwi sanctuary in the afternoon. Reviews are pretty average, but the centre is responsible for increasing survival rates from 5% to 65% – so happy to visit and contribute a few quid to their coffers. The tour is actually pretty interesting and we get to see two juvenile Rowi kiwis. There are only about 600 left in the wild, and that is a marked improvement over the last few years.

In New Zealand, wildlife is neatly divided into one of two camps. Native and pest. The native wildlife has been decimated by invasive species. Imagine, ground-dwelling flightless birds, coming up against stoats, ferrets, cats, and dogs. They are simply not evolved to deal with such creatures. Thus, there are traps pretty much everywhere. New Zealand has a stated aim to be pest-free by 2050. It’s not going to happen, but they are making impressive inroads. I wish them well, as the kiwi is a very cool bird. Interesting fact – it has the second best sense of smell of any bird in the world, the first being the vulture!

With that, it’s time to do a sun dance before bed. A drive to Lake Hawea beckons tomorrow. TAFN.

Having extended our stay in Turangi in the forlorn hope of seeing the mountains clear of cloud, we were only ever going to be able to pay a flying visit to Napier. After a 4 hour drive, we decide to head stright over to Otatara Pa, a historic Maori settlement, dating back as far as the 15^th century. Easy to see how they chose the site, with commanding views over the surrounding countryside. I enjoy it almost as much for the birdlife as the cultural significance – we see california quail, kingfisher (conveniently posing on a Maori figure), and baby fan tails. NB: By the way, I know almost nothing about birds – so I have to look up pretty much everything! 😉

Wellington is a further 4.5 hour drive from Napier. The sun shines as we arrive at Island Bay and our home for two nights sits high on the hills overlooking the coast. For anyone that has seen Kill Bill, the steps to the Airbnb are reminiscent of the cruel tutelage of Pai Mei! Glad that we have decided to leave our suitcases and luggage permanently in the car for this part of the trip. The view from the top is well worth the climb though, and I spot a Tui (a much loved native bird) from the balcony.

That evening we meet up with some friends that we met in Fiji (or more specifically met whilst diving with bull sharks 😉). We are lucky to have caught them, as they are flying to the UK the following day. As it is we had a great evening and it was nice to be shown some of the better bars in Wellington.

Wellington itself is very pleasant. One of the things that amused us was watching a guy jump of a makeshift diving board into the harbour. Apparently, this is a Wellington tradition. Not for us. The water looks revolting and although the sun is shining, it’s far from warm.

We walk off our hangover the following day with a hike to the Tawatawa Reserve. Great views from the top, but my God it’s windy. Enough to almost knock you off your feet.

Before we leave Wellington we check out the Te Papa museum, ahead of a 4 hour ferry ride across the Cook Strait. It is a notoriously rough stretch of water and the strong winds make for an interesting journey. Quite enjoy watching as a couple of blokes venture outside. Shortly afterwards a huge wave crashes over the side of the boat. Fun watching people go from genuine concern for their safety to utter delight upon realising that not only are they safe, but also absolutely soaked! Earns them a round of applause, but suspect the rest of the journey was somewhat uncomfortable in their drenched attire.

We are staying very near the ferry port in Picton. Again, our Airbnb is up high and looks straight over the Marlborough Sound.

We were due to go kayaking on our first full day in Marlborough, but it is cancelled owing to the wind. We opt instead for a hike along the Queen Charlotte track. We complete one section of what would otherwise be a four day walk. Beautiful scenery and the appearance of the sun makes for some fabulous colours.

Marlborough is one of New Zealand’s most important wine regions – famous worldwide for the quality of its Sauvignon Blanc. Despite the fact that Jenn is not a fan of the grape, we join a small group tour. We are picked up by our driver for the day, Gavin, and join another couple from the UK, three Swedish ladies on a girls holiday, and two couples from Oz. Our first tasting is at just after 10 in the morning. They start early here!

Over the course of the day we visit five different cellar doors. The wines are excellent, as is the company. One particular guy made us smile, a sixth generation Australian from hardy farming stock (reckon you’ll be able to spot him in the group photo below). As he said to me, ‘we’re plain speaking in Australia, you’ll always know what we think about you, because we’ll just have told you.’

Turns out he’s lucky to be alive having been trampled by one of his bulls many years back. Consequence is that he has 30 odd plates holding his face together. Ouch! He and his wife are clearly made of strong stuff.

After a full day on the juice, we decide a short stroll is in order. Stumble across a flock of royal spoonbills, which as I’m sure you know, are the only one of six species of spoonbill that breeds in New Zealand. 😉 I wanted to see them while we are here – so tops off a great day!   

Before heading for our next stop we spend the morning kayaking along the coast. We are treated to a beautiful day and spot several eagle rays. Despite the natural beauty on display, highlight of the trip for me was when Jenn complains to our guides that the rudder on our kayak isn’t working (the kayaks are a little higher tech than we are used to). Our very kind guide highlighted that Jenn hadn’t actually put the rudder in the water! Wally… 😉

Starting to understand why people rave about New Zealand and still have three weeks to go. Until next time…