Saying Goodbye to the South Pacific

bad-ass Caitlin, Autumn and Georgia

Over the last 2 months travelling we have met many folks from all over the world. They have enriched our lives by an immeasurable amount. Even the tiniest interchanges can turn out to be priceless. Everyone has a light to shine. We had casual conversation with Cambodians, Somalians, South Africans, Slovenians, Ukrainians, Myanmarians, and Vietnamese. We danced our hearts out with Icelanders, Irelanders, Swedes, and British Islanders. We’ve flown high above the greens with Spaniards and Venezuelans. We’ve jived with the Swiss, and our very own French Canadians.

billiards buddies Bar and Nico

We had interesting and intelligent conversation with Scottish, Danish, and American travellers. We played pool with Germans, Israelis, Argentinians, French, and did I mention the English? We received guidance, assistance, and service with a smile from the Chinese, Thais, Aussies and Kiwis.

Good friends, Great Smiles. Hope to see you soon Deano.

But by far the most exotic person we met and spent time with in NZ was Deano, who is of mixed heritage. He shares blood with the Moriori, Maori, black African, Mohawk Indian, French, Scottish and Irish. He Is Beautiful! He hosted us twice in his home and we were fortunate to have shared many stories and laughs together. Hugs and gratitude to you D.

As you can see, there are many countries whose people we did not have the pleasure of meeting. Our loss.

scooters take you places, hi Roop

These are the modes of locomotion we have used over the past 2 months of travelling in foreign lands: walking, running, hiking, road biking, and mountain biking. We have moved by 7 airplanes, 2 overnight trains, numerous buses, mini-vans, taxi-cars, and countless tuk-tuk trikes. We have taken the metro, the sky-train, and cruised the countryside on mo-peds. We have mastered driving on the left side of the road, and even had the terrifying experience of being driven on the left side (wrong side) of the freeway in China while seated precariously on the bench seat of a taxi-mo-ped. We have toured around in hired (rental) Wicked cars and even been lucky enough to get a transfer (drive-away) car.

sail away with me Paul

We have crossed water by car ferry, passenger ferry, water taxi, riverboat, paddleboard, kayak, sailboat and Thai long-tail boat. We have been over suspension bridges, swaying in rythmn to our stride.We have had the pleasure of swimming, yoga-ing, dancing, and late at night, we have been known to partake in pole-dancing on bar tables. One of us has jumped over precipices down deep canyons on bungy chords, and we have flown to freedom heights high above the earth while para-gliding. We didn’t ride elephants, but we met one on the beach.

with our new friend Mark, and our big friend too

Autumn lounging with Jerrett and Kristjen at the Pai Thai hotsprings…No Cook Egg

We are skipping, jumping, hip-hopping and jiving our way through this holiday. We have bathed in waterfalls, hot-springs, saunas, hot showers, cold showers, bucket showers, lakes, streams, waterfall pools, and tidal pools. We have slept in bungalows, hotels and hostels (2, 4, 6, 8, 10 bed dorms). We have tried to sleep on planes, back bench seats of trucks, and in the reclining bucket seats of rental cars. We have set up swags under the stars and at the beach. We have tented on the ground and on the roof of a Wicked car. We have eaten in Ice Restaurants….ooooo chilly.

Ice cup, Ice beer, do we love Ice??? Yes! smile Graham, Autumn and Sam

We have dreamed deeply on a luxurious mat in an alpine hut, and couchsurfed and slept in luxurious furnished bedrooms at dear family and friend’s homes.

dear family and dear friends, Autumn, Kristina, Mitch and Emily

Jungle Jane Autumn, and Tarzans Pierre and Alex

We have found refuge atop mountains, at rest stops on the highway, outside gravel pits, on city streets, and in quiet library parking lots. Night has been good to us…we have sufficed with 3 hours shut-eye, 5 hours of restlessness, 7 hours of tossing and turning, and 12 hours of slumber. We are revived….and now we are homeward bound…ready to settle in for awhile…at least ’til a new travel bug burrows it’s way into our dreams and sets us stirring. Until next time.

Travelling the South Island of New Zealand

During our journey in the south pacific, we embarked on some serious hiking. We did amazing jungle explorations to find hidden lagoons in Thailand. We had exciting overnight excursions along the beach in Australia. Now it’s time for New Zealand adventure. The system of huts for backcountry hiking in NZ is exceptional. The people and government have set up a brilliant and accessible support network for trampers here.

Today we have just arrived up at Angelus Hut in the Nelson Lakes National Park, and it is terrific. We hiked 900 metres upwards (pant-pant) through the alpine and are now above the tree line at 1800 metres elevation. It took us 41/2 hours and we are knackered! We booked the hut yesterday (for $20 apiece) from the info centre in Motueka, and got 2 of the last 4 vacant beds in the 28 bed hut. It is a good-looking building with solar panels, an immaculately clean metal roof, and eaves-troughs leading to 2 water tanks. There is a large living room/kitchen area with tables, benches, a wood-stove, drying rack, 3 walls of counter-tops and 4 sinks. There are 2 entrances with benches, cubbies and hooks, and also doors out of each of the bunkrooms, which have 2 levels of sleeping platforms furnished with 3 inch sleeping mats. Lots of opening windows, no electrical lighting, except in the volunteer caretaker’s quarters, and a few candles in holders. A deck wraps 2 sides of the building facing the picturesque lake and surrounding mountain-tops, and this is where we are to be found, nursing our beers, getting acquainted with the other hikers, and relaxing. It is good to be here.

hut in site on Angelus basin

We have had an epic day of hard climbing and the magnificence of the trek is settling in deep, deep, and deeper still. Exploring this world above the tree line is impressively stimulating. I take an evening walk out by the lake and come upon a good place to do some stretching.

meditation peace in the mountains

I find that doing yoga out-of-doors is an exhilarating experience. As I cultivate a heightened awareness of my inner world, I likewise appreciate my outer environment more deeply. Turns out its a first-class way to take in the view. Lotus pose on a craggy grey pile of rocks, rich yellow, orange and green lichen clinging, miniscule spiral bursts of creamy white soft rosettes, clustered and blooming with delicate yellow buds. Wide-legged standing forward bend atop a ridge, sides falling away steeply, one green and the other scree. An upside down view yields a breathtakingly new perspective, amplifying the intense beauty of the alpine environment: black, white, and soft shades of every grey and green in existence. Shoulder stand in the moss, with the occasional burr prickling the skin. The sky is fading ever so gently. Dancer’s pose by the still lake, reflecting sunset off the surface. Mysteriously, Jupiter appears, floating in the pool. Seated forward bend, inward focus, humility arises in the vastness of Nature’s creation. I am on a mountaintop. I have hiked 12 km with a pack to get up here with my beloved daughter Autumn. It is glorious. This is my church. My hands reaching up in Namaste mudra are the steeple. The bubbling and giggling and gurgling of the creek are the church bells. My fellow hikers at this hut are the congregation. The laws of nature are our Bible. The wind, rain, sun and earth elements inspire and accompany our hymns. We pray together harmoniously by our intention to preserve the natural integrity of this place. This wonder, this remote yet accessible piece of our planet. New Zealand wilderness…you rock!
Touring the south island is what we’ve decided to do. Autumn hitchhikes out ahead of me as it’s always good to plan some separate time to explore on one’s own. I am blessed with a carefree, very entertaining bus-ride from Picton to Christchurch.

Autumn carries the weight

The driver treats it like a tour and commentates on everything we pass. I learn about the forestry, fishing, and agricultural industries of NZ. I see how many crops, such as cherries, are covered with garden cloth against the numerous birds. There are acres and acres of grapevines, and many of them are cloaked in the remay as well. Evidently, when the Europeans settled this area, they started out grazing sheep on the land. Later it was converted to veggie growing gardens, and is currently covered in grape growing vineyards. Marlborough is the capital of NZ for wine-making. Climate allows a few crops per year, and grapes need less water for vines to thrive than sheep need. This turns out to be very significant this year as it has been the driest summer in 50 years. There has been financial loss from a poor hay-cut, underweight lambs, and loss of breeding ewes, (as they can’t breed them without enough food and water). The area has recently been designated as a drought zone so that the farmers can now get assistance from the government. This bus driver is brilliant. He points out the baby seal pups sunning on the rocks to our left as we cruise down the coastline. He peppers his monologue with lurid jokes and marital advice. He flirts with the buxsome elderly ladies in the front seats. As we enter Christchurch, we receive a thorough account of the 2011 earthquake. How it transpired, affected the city, the aftershocks, the devastation, the rescue-effort, and the re-building process. We see evidence of many vacant lots, and lots of active construction going on. All this information is thought provoking and I’m grateful to this chauffeur who clearly loves his job. I wish he could take me further on tomorrow.
In due time I arrive in Queenstown – youth adventure central, known as the adrenaline capital of the world, or so the billings claim. And it is not to be missed if you are travelling on the south island of NZ. It has foothills and mountains flanking Lake Wakatipu, and seems to provide every possible extreme outdoor sporting experience a thrill junkie could wish for.

OMG – 134 metres down, down, down

Autumn arrived here ahead of me (via Mt. Cook and some serious beauty absorbing) and has already bungy-jumped the 2nd highest natural depth in the world, Nevis, into an immense and magnificent canyon. What courage! I would not be able to do that, and am duly impressed with her spunk. I do enjoy watching the para-gliders flying in spirals down from the mountain though, so we decide to do that the next day.

I guess I love to glide way up high

It is wonderful. What a peaceful, lovely, happy experience. Going tandem, awesome spanish pilot supporting from behind, and equipped with a go-pro for stills and video. Gliding gently, swooping and curving over green hillsides…now a crevice, a canyon, a cliff. It is awe-inspiring up here looking down on the earth, with a warm breeze on my skin. Circling, banking, stomach lurching, adrenalin rushing, views far and wide. No fear, just beauty and pleasure and freedom all round. I never considered doing this before; funny how being in the right place at the right time just adds up to perfection. I dedicate it to my ‘special’ year…I’m the same age as the year I was born in…57…woohoo!
We are able to obtain a transfer car to drive back up north. Lucky us, as it is a very economical way to rent a car. We decide to go to the west coast and look around a bit. It’s rainy as we come out of the mountains and we feel the familiar weather of home. It’s good to see the ocean waves again and there are some exceptional sites to be seen on this stretch of road. We hike up to Fox Glacier, which is the first one I’ve ever seen up close. It is great to hear Autumn’s run-down on how it was formed, and what the various types of ice, rock and terrain are. She has studied earth sciences at UVic and so is well versed in this stuff. Later on we view the pancake rocks and geysers at Punakake, and are blown away by yet another impressive occurrence of nature. Once we reach the north end of the island, we decide to explore the Abel Tasman National park.

getting out on the water reminds me of home

I rent a kayak and tour the coast. Dreamy sea green-blue water. Baby seals cavorting in tidal pools. Lush bush clinging to hillsides which have their feet wet in the sea. Spray of the paddle on my face, hot sun against my arms. Nine different types of cormorant bird flying overhead and perched in the verdant canopy above the rocks. I do this alot at home, and here I am on the other side of the Pacific Ocean, fingers dipping in the same waters, yet 10,000 kms away. Meanwhile Autumn has driven out to Golden Bay and Farewell Spit to see the rolling sand dunes, a beached whale (she collected some teeth from it), and to jump and splash and play in the sand with the 2 European hitch-hikers she gave a ride to. So much to see, so much to do. We make our choices and live them out. We let go of what we cannot achieve in a limited time. We fantasize about returning in a few years. There is an endless world of newness out here. The anxieties and stresses of planning the trip have long since faded away. Life can be so pleasant. So full. So rich. I cannot imagine not travelling every once in awhile. It has nourished and reinvigorated me for all the responsibilities and commitments I have at home. It has encouraged and motivated me for the creative and passionate pursuits I partake in.It has enthused my mind. It has uplifted my spirit and continually healed my body and soul. I am truly living my heart’s desire, and it is good.

sense of accomplishment reigns

 

I Love Cousins Who Live in Marlborough Sound, New Zealand

Clova Bay is paradise

I rode my bike out down the gravel road tonight at that magic time just before dinner when the food is in the oven, the sun has mellowed, the days activities are complete and there’s nothing wanting to be done but to BE. I am able to take a slow ride, it’s a leisurely pace – one which affords me the chance to visit with the sheep as I pass, say hello to the cattle, and notice the signage. Totaranui Left (sounds exotic); Beware – bull at large (sounds scary); Beach Baches (cottages) available (sounds inviting). Country road, remote lane, flowered drive, dry dusty track.View of the turquoise bay, sound of the cicadas, sheep in the hills. Old discarded wringer washer under the trees, stately chestnut mare turning her gaze on me. Light diminishing steadily, hunger coming on. I round the curve and head back toward Clova Bay. A pan of roasties (potatoes, parsnips, pumpkin-squash) peppered with dried, harvested seaweed from the Sound awaits me. Espresso chili beer. Hot spicy venison sausage sliced into a silver beet (chard) quiche, topped with feta cheese. Coleslaw and condiments galore. Ummm….kitchen tastes and smells attract me. I love this place that cousin Paul calls home.

family is forever

He and Kristina and Theo and Zach have welcomed Autumn and I here, and we are so happy to be with family after 5 weeks on the road. We will be able to settle in and spend time getting to know their life. They make their own sauerkraut, kefir, yogurt, kambucha, beer, wine, sausage, bread, music, song, poetry, prose, remote control airplanes, love, happiness. They collect seaweed, mussels, and oysters off the beach, and dig beached dolphins into the compost heap. They grow enormous zuchinis and tend lovely gardens. They live far from town, but buy or trade eggs, milk and veggies with neighbours. They teach music at the local school and she writes exquisite articles on food, harvesting, and farmy-type living for various magazines. They caretake this B&B of beach cabins for 10 months a year and live on their boat when the owners come at high season. They have led a relatively free, creative, alternative lifestyle for 25 years together in NZ. We will hike, mountain bike, jam, meet friends, do acrobatic stunts, beachcomb, talk, cook, do dishes and laundry, and go out on the water. I see their sailboat, Antidote, (to ‘normal’ life, I assume) at it’s mooring, safe and sound. We’ll head out on it tomorrow for a 3 day sailing adventure. Nice.

sailing away is a happy, healthy antidote

The minute I step on board I see that Paul’s entire demeanour has changed. He is energized by the proposition of spending the fortnight aboard his boat. He is enthused; transformed by his ingrained sailor-spirit, which beckons him out to the sea again and again. I am an onlooker. I know nothing of sails, ropes, wind and waves. I sit back and watch him go through the many steps it takes to get us under sail. Autumn is his capable helper. I listen and learn about sheets, jib and automatic tiller. We have wind, we can cut the motor and fly away now, leaning well to the side and smiling. Straightaway we have swift and graceful dolphins join us alongside. The view of Marlborough Sound from the water is stunning.

mussels and oysters gathered off the beach, eaten on the boat

We pass green and glorious hillside upon hillside rising through the surface of the water like giant folds of a blanket. There are 3 distinct ground covers on the hills: golden shorn with sheep, or the original vegetation of bush and trees, or a combination of native bush and introduced trees, mainly pine. According to Paul, the preservation of indigenous flora and fauna is very important to residents here in NZ. It is natural. They live on an island and actually have the opportunity to manage it somewhat. Controlling pine trees, rats, possums, stoats, black pigs and other introduced species is an ongoing battle. We pass a few areas that are populated with as close to original species as possible and it feels like a privilege to be witnessing it.

Autumn is mesmerized by the jungle

Prior to the Europeans arriving, there were no mammals here except bats, so the birds thrived, diversified, and multiplied. Captain Cook and his crew complained of sleepless nights on account of the loud volume of the birdsong, even heard as far out as their anchored ship. It is magical to me though, in the middle of the afternoon. It truly is song. I hear it today as a kind of melodic whistling, haunting at times, and uplifting at others. It accents the ever present cicada monotone which underlays all forest/jungle reverberations. The birdsong rises and falls in pitch. It tells stories, and communicates meaning. Apparently the national kiwi bird, which is endangered and can pretty much only be seen at night in specific places, has a few interesting and distinct calls that are highly recognizable. I don’t think I’ll be lucky enough to see or hear it though, as they exist mainly in captivity, as part of an effort to increase their numbers through protected breeding programs.

Marlborough Sound

After returning from our sailing trip, we enjoy many days of home-cooked meals (it is so thrilling to chop garlic and fry onions, after weeks of eating road food and restaurant fare) and good family time playing games and music together. It’s hard to measure the connection which is present when you share blood with someone. It is something secure and meaningful. It means you can talk about aunts and uncles and grandparents and share tidbits of family history and geography. Old photos come out, oral storytelling commences. Children’s personalities and qualities are analyzed for family resemblances. The elder folk smile quietly inside to recognize the preciousness of knowing the line of ancestors and descendants, to be spending time bonding and loving. Laughter rings about the house as we play charade games, collect pears from the tree and bake them into crisp, improvise songs to ukulele, guitar, flute and percussion instruments. On the last day of our stay, eleven year old Theo and I prepare a ‘2nd Cousins Cafe’ and spend the afternoon rolling out pizza dough, preparing a menu, mixing soft cocktails, slicing toppings, fussing at the oven, and then entertaining our ‘guests’. What a joy to share this time together. It could be many years before we are all together again. Paul, Kristina, Zach and Theo are fabulous hosts and it is a drawn-out and teary departure when it’s time for us to carry on south.

Blue Mountains and Sydney, Australia

Autumn with the very wicked Keith Richards

As we explore Australia in our ‘hired’ car, (an awesome Wicked car covered in graffiti), we endeavour to merge with the Aussie ways. For one thing, folks just do not do much night driving here on the highways and byways. There is a huge danger of running into a gigantic (6-foot tall, +200 lb) kangaroo. Wreckage can be the nasty result for the vehicle, and the side of the road becomes the last resting place for the unfortunate animal. It happens all too often and so people avoid it. However, being Canadian, we are used to long hours of driving, over vast distances, often into the night. So we find ourselves one evening, cruising down the highway, and rally driving the curvy sections on the way to the Blue Mountains. We end up looking for gas and a grocery store as we are running dangerously low on both resources. Unlike Canada, where we are used to a profusion of signage informing us of ‘gas, food, lodging’, and where you can find in a reasonably-sized town (read: has malls), some grocery stores open late at night…but, these inland Australian highways are not as convenient as we’d hoped. It’s only 6:30 pm and we simply cannot find a place to buy groceries, never mind a gas station. Finally, after a good hour, and with the gas tank alert light ON, we get to a fueling station. As Autumn fills the tank (thankfully you’re still allowed to pay AFTER you fill here), I try to go inside, only to find that it’s locked. I am informed that it’s normal here after dark for the cashier to bolt the front door so as to do some productive work in the back rooms. There is a doorbell you must ring, and the attendant does arrive, but only after there are already 5 of us waiting to get in and pay. Once inside though, I am pleasantly surprised that this kind of highway convenience store does not just sell coffee, chips, candy and pop, but that I can find some high quality meusli (and I’m not talking about the sugary granola kind either) for our morning meal tomorrow. Can’t find that in a Canadian gas-bar! Toilet paper by the roll is also a handy commodity, as is a very cool new item called Dare, which is basically an iced cappuccino in a bottle. Great for late night driving.

We carry on and are gifted by seeing the largest kangaroo yet, up close, crossing the road in a leisurely manner. We get a good look in our headlights and are very happy that we didn’t run into it. The hips on this animal look a metre wide…she is a BIG girl! Just carry on your way doll and it was lovely to have met you. Thrilling actually. Now we will continue on following the directions of Matilda (our GPS lady voice) to get to our destination. We ‘bear’ left, (veer), take the 2nd exit on the round-about (continue straight ahead), and overtake (pass) in the right lane…that’s it, you’re getting it girls…this is an epic adventure.

We’re off to the Blue Mountains and to discover that after miles and miles of dead towns, (or actually we did see one with a ton of factory outlets, but no action) we drive straight into a very cool and captivating town called Katoomba. Hey, there’s a wood-fired pizza joint over there…with a live band playing! (The windows and sliding doors are all open to the warm night, so we can hear the music even as we drive by.) Let’s stop…no wait, here’s a renovated coach house pub, and it’s got a live band too. Quick let’s get a parking spot..over there…by the Jazz cafe… with the trio playing on the patio. We’ve made it! We love it. We dance for hours, chat with locals, taste test drinks, and never mind for a minute that we’re too late to find a campground so we just sleep in the car.

Blue Mountains, Grand Canyon

Morning mist rises over the canyon rocks, the mesmerizing blue mist which is the park’s namesake. It hangs in the air and is said to be tinted blue because of the eucalyptus oil combining with the moisture. It veils the view of this Unesco World Heritage site called the Three Sisters, which we hope very much to get a peek at.

hike to Grand Canyon

We must wait for the fog to lift, which pretty much takes all day, so we hike for hours in the area and see the ‘Grand Canyon’, and other lovely sites, which reduce our human size to nothingness in the face of their awesomeness. When we return to see the Sisters, they are beautiful – a magnificent grouping of 3 gigantic vertical rock formations standing regally amidst a sensational canyon carved in the mountains. There are numerous winding trails approaching it from the canyon walls, and we spend a pleasant few hours climbing up and down staircases finding the perfect vantage point. Tour buses may also disembark their passengers as close as 50 metres away at a fenced look-out area. This provides the opportunity for hordes of tourists to view this iconic site up close, and with ease. I, however, much prefer having the pleasure of a little grunting and heavy breathing before I am adequately prepared physically, mentally and emotionally to take in it’s magnificence.

Autumn and the 3 sisters

Spiritually I receive the reward of experiencing utter egotistical insignificance in comparison to this creation of nature which minimizes my stature (which is already quite miniscule) to almost the point of evaporation. I hear the low drone of the insects, the high-pitch of the bird-calls. I feel vertigo, and must resist that undeniable urge to fall forward, to jump, to fly, to glide down, float away on the misty fog… toward the canyon floor, where I will become one with the elementals.

In due time we go back to the city. Sydney captures our hearts. We arrive on a hot, sunny late afternoon and check into a very nice hostel within a perfect half hour’s brisk walk downtown. On the way we pass the reputedly important war memorial in beautiful Hyde Park. If you don’t already know, Australia (and New Zealand) played a key, but devastating role in WW1 history. They entered the war rather late and suffered tragic losses of a grand scale very quickly thereafter. The boys have been honoured with a large memorial, celebrating their contribution, and commemorating the Anzac union of forces. It is good to remember.

Fortune of War pub, kangaroo mince and ale

We head straight for the old historical district near the harbour, called The Rocks. We just happen to arrive at the oldest pub in town, the Fortune of War pub, exactly at beer-o’clock. Hooray! The walls are covered in old black and white photos of Sydney’s early days; relics of a bustling and productive bygone time. We order kangaroo mince burgers with our ale, and it is tasty. Apparently the chef must take care not to cook it overlong, or it will be tough and chewy. Ours is not, but is actually quite mouth watering-ly good. There now, we’ve done it, we are true blood-sisters of the Australian from hereafter.

Sydney Opera House

The Opera House is slightly disappointing in daylight, but as the darkness arrives and the lights come on, it really struts it’s stuff and shows off it’s glamour. The famous Sydney Harbour Bridge is the backdrop for it’s catwalk appearance, and live bands play it along, to the delight of many camera holders. Flashbulbs vie for attention as throngs of concert goers move into an enclosed area where an outdoor stage is lit up for the evening’s entertainment. Why do these places hold such sway over us? So many tourists, and yet we still come. They are magnificent examples of the architectural feats, the possibilities of what mankind can achieve. Yes they are. The opera house signifies grace, beauty, magnificence of design, movement, curvature…. white sails on a blue sea under a clear sky. All that is free and flying in the wind. All that is creative and artistic. We embrace these qualities and enjoy seeing them manifest in physical form. I think of my father Jack, who was here 30 years ago and told me about his trip then. I walk in his footsteps and know we actually exist in a timeless realm. I appreciate this present moment.

Travelling the small passenger ferry out from the Sydney harbour to Manly Beach is a great morning activity. Hiking out to Shelley Beach and on around the headland is truly spectacular. I see a troupe of young men, maybe 50 or so, all in red, being commandeered by a few older leaders into doing various race-types water activities. Perhaps they are training as life-guards…but that’s a whole lot of wet, muscle bound guys on the beach. In any case, they swim, they surf, they run in the sand, and they yell and leap in a competitive urging for the finish each time. Apparently surfing originated here, (I haven’t verified that, so please correct me if it’s wrong). I wouldn’t doubt it though, as the men here seem to symbolize virility, stamina, courage, and beach-tanned beauty. Outdoorsy, loud and humourous…that’s the stereotype, and we certainly have met that many a time in the flesh. Hello and goodbye to them. This afternoon we fly away to a new country, New Zealand. New adventure, new mindset, new thoughts, new friends, new experiences. As Dylan Holliday said…Don’t Miss and Opportunity! … and Keep it snappy!

Meeting with friends in New South Wales, Australia

We are so excited to do a road trip up to New South Wales, where we will hike, sight-see, and drop in on some friends. We have picked up a ‘Wicked Car’ rental, which is painted with tough and spunky graffiti, and comes complete with a tent on the roof, and a ‘cooker’ stove, ‘eskie’ (cooler), and all the dishes and pots we need in the ‘boot’. (As usual, I love learning the regional expressions of language).

we’re on the road again

We attract lots of attention…good, or bad, we’re not quite sure yet, but quite often we find folks staring at our car, and even taking pictures of it. In any case, we get to drive wherever we want now… and we do. Our first stop is Wilson’s Promontory, which is the southernmost point of Australia, said to have been connected to Tasmania long ago, and it is a definitive landmark which can be hiked out to in a few hours through a large national park of the same name.

hiking is heaven

The park is gorgeous, and we relish our morning hike and afternoon hang-out there. We are getting so darned fit here with all this walking and hiking…so glad this trip is not just about history, and culture, but also about hiking and connecting with the land. I feel very vibrant and energetic… that is… when I’m not slumped in the passenger seat of the car, cruising along with Autumn at the wheel. The sticker on the windshield faces inwards and reminds us to ‘Stay sexy, stay left’. Oh yeah.

Visits with friends along the way are a highlight. Mark, who Woofed in our garden garlic patch over 10 years ago, and discovered through his time on the island that his heart’s desire was to settle down with someone, live out in the country with a veggie garden, and raise a few animals and some babies.

living the dream on the land

We find him down a stretch of gravel road which runs through a designated park… and there he stands….with his gorgeous and very pregnant wife Carly and daughter Iyla, living his dream on acreage off Jervis Bay. He serves us home-made beer, brewed in his man-cave out past the paddock. Nice hoppy ale, goes down well with a cheese plate and the sun-ripened cherry tomatoes that Iyla is feeding us straight off the vine. Horses graze beyond the fence, hills curve and roll back to the tall gums and brush. Ducks float in a large pond, reflecting the white puffy clouds skudding across the vast open ceiling of blue. Chickens cackle, dogs play, child’s cry and laughter mix to weave the fabric of HOME. I feel the rapture coming on….rejoice. Later, we feast on good conversation, along with garden fresh basil, roasted root veggies, luscious lamb, and spicy rissole (mince, ground meat). A walk under the stars finishes off a perfect evening. Mark and I have always shared our love of the starry night together; identifying constellations and planets and celestial phenomena. I am so happy to see a whole different viewpoint of the universe from down under. I can now identify the Southern Cross, the pointer stars Alpha and Beta Centauri, all of which help indicate due South on the horizon. The Milky Way is many times more radiant and visible down here in the Southern Hemisphere, and I learn to spot the Magellenic cloud just above this South point. Mark tells me how the Aborigines named the sky not for the bright stars and constellations, but for the black shapes which are apparent between them. He shows me how to see these black areas…by looking slightly aside of them, so that they appear in peripheral vision. How magical and mystical. I can almost hear the didgeridoo being played in the background. The clacking sticks might well send me into a trance any minute now. Cool!!.

with Mark and Iyla, Jervis Bay

Life is good for this emergency room nurse at the local hospital, who can trade shifts with his nurse wife so as to spend an extra few hours with us at breakfast and the beach in the morning before we head north. Breakie sits just right: thinly sliced wood-fired sourdough rye toast, lathered in butter and a smidge of Vegiemite. Then we bask on the white sandy beach, jump in the surf and roll around. The water is just the perfect temperature, as it seems to always be here in the land of milk and honey…Oz.

The roadtrip takes us up towards Sydney, and we see that the coastal lifestyle is amazing. Surfers hoisting their boards are everywhere. Folks seem to finish work a bit early and head out-of-doors for a quick hit of surfing, running, biking, hiking, cricket, or whatever takes their fancy. It’s the climate for it…so easy to dress, or undress, as the case may be. Up in Wollongong, we catch up with Caitlin, who met Autumn when she was an exchange student at UVic over a year ago.

the fearsome foursome

She took us on an epic overnight hiking/camping excursion along the Royal Coastal Walk, where we saw the most enchanting mermaid pool, waterfall, and inland caves. The coastline is dramatic with cliffs, surf, and some truly magnificent geological features.

figure 8 pool, Autumn, Jill, Caitlin

The figure 8 tidal-pools which one can dive into the clear aquamarine water of, and bathe as if in a hot-tub, are the ultimate luxury by the sea. The massively huge Wedding Cake formation along the cliff, of purist white in a perfect 3D corner, and with a layered effect for the icing too. We met jungle birds, eels, water dragons (lizards), wallabies, and cute wee foxes. The cicadas and birds create a harmony chorus of sound by which our rhythmic steps can dance and sway. Heavy packs, sweating backs, sandy feet, salty skin, drying lips, tanning skin, hair astray, ears alert, eyes on the next amazing sight, senses alive. Food tastes so delicious out of doors, don’t you find? Bits of smoked cheese, roasted salted nuts, dry crackers come to life with a bit of pesto and a sun-dried tomato. Chewy dates, apricots rolled in coconut, mango stickiness washed down with fresh water which we’re so glad to unload the weight of. Camping is the life. Connect with nature. Re-new the spirit of adventure. Build strength and stamina on the ‘track’ as we ‘tramp’. Bonds of friendship are painted with richer colours… with wilderness as the canvas, taut muscles as the brush, and hard sweat as the glue. Songs of freedom and wonder are written and sung by the light of the silvery moon. The bells of morning must wait for another day, as we are far, far away, and will not hear of civilization for a wee bit just yet.

beauties in beauty

We have an amazing step hike up basically a sheer cliff, lucky to be furnished with occasional ladders to climb, to a place called Sublime Point. It is our goodbye to Caitlin. She kept us busy with outdoor recreation that’s for sure, and we never would have had the insights into the Australian way of life without spending time with her community of friends. Love these local Aussies, (Georgia, a friend of Caitlin’s, was also on the trek, and we met numerous other friends while staying at her communal student house), and they are happy to share their knowledge of the flora and fauna with us, and some of their customs too. We pick up on their expressions and enjoy many laughs together. How are you goin? I’m buggered (tired out). How did ya pull up? (Get up in the morning). Not so good. Don’t let it be takin’ the piss outa ya,(wear you down). I feel like a bogun (hoser) after all that partying. It was hectic! (crazy). I’ll shout ya (lend/spot) for lunch. Good on ya mate, I reckon we’re on the right track! Blessings to you all.

Awesome Oz – Victoria state

Australia wasn’t even on my list of places to go. It was Autumn’s idea, and I’m sure glad she suggested it. I really, really like it here. Is it because we’ve come from Thailand, and Australia is so much more familiar? Similar conveniences and culture, same language…sort of…(more on that later). But it’s also the lifestyle and climate. It’s not too hot, as we’re just hanging out between Melbourne and Sydney, where the average daily temp right now is between 25 and 32 degrees C. Lovely. People seem to thrive on outdoor living. Certainly we are loving the hiking everyday, and it’s warm enough at night to sleep out at the beach, or in a tent, with just a light covering. One thing about this trip to Oz, I’ve learned how to sleep anywhere, and I’ve surprised myself with how easy it’s been. No doubt because we’ve tried to pack one month’s worth of sightseeing, hiking, visiting, relaxing, partying, etc into 2 weeks. We have hit the ground running every morning, and usually it’s been morning again before we’ve hit the bedroll.

jumping for joy to be with family in such a gorgeous place

Our entry point is Melbourne, in the state of Victoria, and what a time we’re having! My cousin’s son Nik has met us at the airport and we’re overjoyed to be with family. He hasn’t seen Melbourne either as he’s working rurally on a farm near Adelaide. We enjoy the city sights, scenes, sounds, scents, and tastes together.

 

we escaped the storm to enjoy really tasty beer

Cozy cafes and funky bars, palm trees above the green park, where a sign reads ‘The laughter club meets here at 10am Saturdays’…we’ll be there! Walks on the St.Kilda pier, watching penguins preen their tiny bodies, then waddle down rough rocks to dive into the sea. If they took a notion, I bet they could swim all the way to Antarctica, 13 minutes at a time holding their breath underwater. Cool. A thunder and lightning storm brews up and we get to witness the black clouds approaching across the water. Flashes and forks, rumbles and raindrops…run for cover.

We spend an awesome night checking out the local bars…thank god for good beer again (Thailand’s beer just doesn’t cut it for me). Autumn’s friends show us the town. Back alley Chinatown, colourful, bold graffiti against brick walls, men pissing against them in the dark, dance club at the end of the crooked lane. We dance for hours, music and movement are the same primal connecting language everywhere, and chat with locals. Hunger strikes, and we find ourselves in a Chinese restaurant at 3am. Dumplings, dumplings, and more dumplings…go down well. The bed feels real good, even if it is only for a few hours. We don’t want to miss any of the daylight so we’re up early and on our way. The highlight of Melbourne is the breakfast cafe we were referred to. We couldn’t even find it with the GPS on the cell-phone; seems the best places are down alleyways. Tiny brick building with a huge mural on the side.

Monk, Bodhi, Dharma, Yumm

This is the place, there could only be one ‘Monk, Bodhi, Dharma’. In house coffee roasting, and bakery…mmmm… heavenly scent, and check out this menu:

Umami Mushrooms – Roasted king oyster, shitake, and swiss brown mushrooms on a house-made pumpkin polenta bread. Served with goat’s cheese, thyme, and red chili oil.

Avignon Apple Pancakes – Buckwheat apple pancakes served with raw cinnamon ice cream, maple syrup, raw vanilla bean whipped cream, and dehydrated apple chips.

The Avo – Avocado tossed with feta, mint, chili, lemon, served on organic sour-dough.

…and that’s just breakfast! We feast. Yes, we do, and it’s delicious. Now we’re ready to say goodbye to this city and we’re off.

Great Ocean Road, what a perfect drive along a captivating coastline. It is to the west of Melbourne and it snakes along creating a vast and magnificent scene of cliffs, rocky outcroppings, long, long, sandy beaches, blue skies, wispy clouds, lush brush, sand dunes, and crashing waves. The big attraction is the area around the ‘Twelve Apostles’, which are massive vertical columns of rock placed close to the shore and directly in the surf.

12 Apostles, Great Ocean Road, Australia

Stunningly beautiful, they attract a huge crowd everyday. We are able to get past the tourist craze and enjoy the scene, but quickly move on to quieter viewpoints which are just as brilliant. Foaming water, salt on the skin, roar of the waves, glare of the sun. Damp and humid and hot and happy we are. We are on a road trip and we are loving it. No more buses, trains, tuk-tuks and taxis for us. This is heaven…and we are with family…ah!

mother and daughter right where we want to be

Planning an international trip, one thinks about what is important to see and experience. For me, Australia means unique and exotic animals. I looked them up in the library and had my list of must-sees, and my list of hope-to-sees. What good fortune that on our first day out on the open road we came across a large grove of gum trees full of koalas. Sleepy, dopey, slow, growl-y, cute, cuddly (looking) little fur balls. Mamas, papas, and baby koalas, mostly napping after a good feed on the eucalyptus (gum) leaves.

hello there mate

They have devastated vast areas of trees and are kept away in some locales by the placement of a hard plastic wrap around the lower trunk of the trees. Apparently this south area of Australia is where they are most prolific, so I suppose the trees die off and then bounce back in a cyclic fashion. It must be somehow sustainable as they’ve been here for a long time.

We get to see a lot of the other native animals in just the first few days, and while we’re hiking in the wild too, what a treat! Wallabies, kangaroos, cockatoos, kookaburras, brush-tailed possums. Autumn even spotted a tiny scorpion on the path as we walked in the dark one evening. So many loud cricket sounds during the night, it’s almost a white noise, yet quite a racket really, from the cicadas. We sleep in ‘swags’, which are handy bed rolls, complete with a thin mattress, sleeping bag, pillow, and a waterproof canvas covering. Just roll ’em out anywhere and you don’t even need a tent. Perfect for the beach or late night pull-ins at campgrounds where you don’t want to disturb other campers after you’ve been out tramping on the trails and shooting the breeze over a beer with the local Aussies. (What a great accent! It’s not easy to understand, especially during the late, late hours. We like hearing the phrases and well-used words which are often in our language, but not as commonly used: swag, ute -utility vehicle, heaps, wanker, reckon, mate. Good on ya!

We have been blown away by the beauty of the coast, and now we’re heading back to Melbourne by an inland highway which runs through agricultural land.

rolling hills of Victoria state

It reminds me of the Yorkshire Dales which I love so much. Since Captain Cook came in 1770, it seems they’ve patterned this place after the British Isles. Certainly there is a resemblance…rolling green hillsides dotted with grazing sheep, shade upon shade of green cascading over the curves of land: olive, bright, lime, soft, teale, grass-green, sea-green. Lovely. We absorb the gentle rise and fall of the landscape and wonder at the life these farmers lead. They took the land over from the Aborigines, of whom I have seen very little, except for in the beautiful shops in town where the indigenous artists sell their colourful works: primary red, green, yellow, dots inside curvy lines, black and white accents, earthy tones, ochre, wood, clay, leather, rock paintings, images of animals, work, mythical creatures, spirits. Ceremonial pieces, tools, weaponry, didgeridoos…very compelling.

sunset serenity in Oz

Every road sign reminds us of the native inhabitant’s presence through the place names such as: Geelong, Illawarra, Jerrabombarra, Koorumburra and Werribee. Road names such as: Booderee Rd, Dandenong Rd, Tooronga, and Warragul Road. I love the sound of these words, they hang in the air as part of the spirit of the ancient culture. Like the ever-present wild birdsong in the bush. The trees sing to us, the roads talk to us, the land welcomes us, and the people smile and laugh, and tell jokes, and laugh again with us. These are rich times we are experiencing in Australia.

Southern Thailand, Koh Lanta

We are staying on Koh Lanta, at Mama’s Bungalows, adjacent to the beach, and close to a very hip French breakfast bakery and bistro with famous yogurt, muesli and fresh fruit, brewed coffee, croissant, french and italian cuisine, and very good music.

Mama is a happy force of nature

Mama is big and friendly, and wears a gigantic flowered apron and bright red lipstick. She dances a side-step up to the table when she serves the noon-day rice and vegie soup. Her big hips sway beneath her bosom. She giggles and laughs and makes us feel extremely welcome. It is nice to sit in the shade of the day and chat with her about her life here, married to a Muslim man. She is his second wife and she likes that, because she enjoys a level of independence from him, yet has him around for help and protection when needed. She has a troupe of neighbourhood girls who work for her as cooks, cleaners, and massage therapists. We luxuriate in their care. I see them returning to their humble hut abodes across the path at the end of the day. They all carry fancy purses and cell phones, and sport the pink logo-ed t-shirt of Mama’s Bungalows.

I appreciate that these Thai people, who are in contact with the tourists, are taking the time and effort to learn some English. They do it in a perfect way, just enough to communicate. One does not try to correct them if the meaning is coming across clearly. It isn’t needed. One learns to speak to them in clipped, simple English, only the words which are necessary. It is enough. We can learn of family, work, country and activities. We can convey some of our hopes and dreams, our challenges and limitations. We cannot get too philosophical or political of course, but then oftentimes tone, expression and gesture make up for what words cannot express. Even a placard or sign, translated correctly or incorrectly, can say an immense amount. As we’ve travelled through Thailand, we have seen many road signs, billboards, menus, etc which we have enjoyed due to the imperfect English translations. We love them so much, they make our day! Here are our favourites: shramp, caramari, massels, stik rice, seewt and sour sauce, mixed vegetabits, french feies, spgahetti, noodels, galic, flied tofu…whatever you waht is availabla. Nice Beach Resort, Clean Resort, Location of Wealth Resort. So wonderful!

The Thai people really are as gracious, helpful and friendly as their reputation implies. They embody an accepting nature. During the morning, they work, during the evening they work. During the middle of the day, sometimes they work, and in between they can be found draped across any and all pieces of furniture, and lying in hammocks…sleeping peacefully like babies. I admire this ability to drop into slumber at will, and then pop up at a moment’s notice to tend to the next necessary task. Family groupings support each other in their work, as I suppose is the case in most developing places on the planet. They live together, share meals, money, and celebrations. They don’t enjoy the same levels of freedom of choice and individuality that we westerners do, but they seem content enough, perhaps even more so than most of our culture. So hard to say, and difficult to compare, but it’s fun to think on.

Our travel agent supreme – Oui

We meet Mark and he introduces Autumn to walking dogs from the animal shelter on the beach. Good idea. Tourists miss their animals, so here is a way to satisfy all needs at once. These kinds of initiatives are refreshing to hear about. So many of their systems work well. The transportation system out to the islands for instance; it is fantastic. As our new friend Stefyn, from Kamloops says, they spoon-feed us the transportation. It’s true. It’s so easy just to walk up to any street-side travel agent, of which there are half a dozen per block, and arrange your transport all in one go. You receive one standard form,  stamped paid, and it’ll take you on a truck taxi, then a passenger ferry boat, then a long-tail wooden boat out to a far-flung location with a pier. They herd you through line-ups along the dock, up and down ramps, calling out place names and referring to the wee little sticker on your shirt, marked with your destination’s initials. Somehow you are able to retrieve your luggage from the gigantic heap on the deck of the vessel, and you get where you’re going.

the jungle shrunk me

One of the most urgent problems I see facing the Thais is the disposal of garbage. The locale we are at right now, Tonsai Beach and Railay, (which are part of the mainland of the southern Thailand peninsula, but are only accessible by boat) is perhaps the most stunningly gorgeous place I’ve seen in the world so far. Known for the brilliant rock climbing and deep-water soloing, this place has all the beautiful people you can imagine, all soaking up the beauty which abounds.

divine beauty at Tonsai

Massive rock outcroppings rise up from the still waters of iridescent, shining bays with sandy beach fronts. Moss and vines cling up on top of the vertical cliffs. Tropical birds sing and cry from dawn to dusk. Flowering plants thrive. Red earth pathways lead you through the jungle to scenic look-outs beyond compare. Turquoise sea surrounds luscious, dense undergrowth and ancient grandparent trees. We hiked, and climbed a most awesome trail the other day. It was almost straight up, and then straight back down, to end up at a magical, mystical lagoon in the centre of a rock tower. We could probably have done it without the ropes in most cases, but it was nice that there were so many placed for our assistance. Many folks turned back as it was too much of a height, too steep, too scary. We just kept going and were amply rewarded with a transcendent experience bathing in the warm water amongst the jungle foliage. It is a wondrous place…but of course, there are bits of plastic almost everywhere. One sign reads, ‘this is not Utopia’s garbage, but we are trying our best to deal with it’. Yes, it is obviously the refuse of the tourist trade, but we need to be spoon-fed a system that works in this realm too. I’ve seen bins, for recycling the plethora of discarded plastic water bottles; that’s a start. We and they need help to get it right, and in time it will come. I’ve seen it happen in Mexico, where we have visited over the past 35 years, and increasingly the trash is being cleaned up and kept on top of. I wish this soon for Thailand.

I am tree

We are now back in Bangkok awaiting our flight out to Australia. We have a few hours to kill so we will grab some lunch, get our last Thai massage, and find a street cafe to sit at. I am drowsy in my chair. I close my eyes and hear the sounds of life around me. I hear dishes clanking, the rev of a tuk-tuk passing, a conversation at the adjacent table. I hear a loud whacking which sounds like cans being flattened. I smell smoke. It’s coming from a bucket of garbage the lady next door is burning on the curbside. I smell cigarette smoke. No matter where you are, someone lights up right beside you; it’s not the Thai’s, it’s the tourists. What do they think of us? There are so many of us descending upon them. They seem so nice to us, always smiling, but like we do when Labour Day comes, they are probably smiling to see us go. I am leaving now, on a jet plane, and I don’t know if I’ll be back again. I hate to go and leave the vibrant outdoor life here. I love to see the lady selling coffee in the morning, set up on the sidewalk with her ‘Super Star Bung’ logo. I wish we had shoe repairmen and seamstresses crafting their wares out front of their shop/abodes, complete with electric sewing machines. They just glance up at us from their work as we pass by. It’s nice they are not shut up in some isolated room. This living and working in close proximity with community, and out of doors, has it’s upside I think.We feel privileged to have met all the friendly service workers, and the fellow travelers here. Everyone is happy it seems, like my island in the summertime. It is high, it is heartfelt, it is a happening place to be. Kah pun kah, thank you, people of Thailand.

Thai Islands

Koh means island. There is Koh Thao, Koh Phangan, Koh Phi Phi, Koh Jum, Koh Yoong, Koh Bida, Koh Mook, Koh Ngai, Koh Ma, Koh Rok Nok, Koh Bu Bu, and Koh Samui. So many more. All are emerald jewels set in a turquoise sea of silk. Some have good snorkelling, others have sandy beaches. Still others boast emerald caves, deep sea diving, and incredibly active night life. We decide to try Koh Lanta first, and we like it so much we decide to stay for the whole time we have left in Thailand. We’ve heard good stories about its having an abundance of nature to explore, combined with a healthy dose of live music and dance culture at night.

Khlongnin beach, Koh Lanta

There are many villages along the western edge, some at sea-level, and others perched high up on the cliffsides. Each of them has excellent street and cafe food, Thai massage, and any amount of shopping. It is easy to meet folks, share a meal and discuss tales of daily excursions. We hear tell of jungle paths, giant spiders and butterflies, a national park with ancient trees (Helliwell style), elephants, monkeys, waterfalls and caverns. We will see all of this. We want to immerse ourselves in hiking, biking, swimming and natural beauty.

Since we are staying put for a week, I have time to just BE. A routine develops over a few days time. There is yoga, there are cool showers, there are long walks in the jungle. There is hot chicken off the barbeque, there are cold drinks on sunset drenched decks overlooking the rocks. Everyday there are long hours spent at the beach.

sea, sun, sand and sweet serenity

There’s not much I like better than to feel the warm sun against my skin. The early morning soft sun. My being craves it, especially my belly; it seems to soak it in, absorb every ray to the sweetest degree. Satisfied to the core, I languish in visions of glorious red, orange, and golden hues. How could I ever have enough? It almost reaches right through me, filling up the dark spaces. And then…the air stirs. There’s not much I like better than to feel the soft and gentle breeze of sea air caressing my sun-warmed skin. It is heavenly, worth the flight across the Pacific. My breath aligns with the sea breath. The curve of my body aligns with the curve of the water’s edge. The waves lap slowly and rhythmically, rocking my soul into deeper bliss. Lovelier still. Until….the swim. There’s not much I like better than to enter the salty realm of the ocean. It’s embrace is the perfect temperature today. I float, and stretch; wriggle and writhe; allowing the buoyancy to hold me effortlessly. This is flying, in Poseidon’s world. Freedom to move in any direction with a tiny flip, flop, kick, paddle, stroke and dive. Splashes, spray, droplets catch the light. Exquisite play. And then…. there’s the barefoot promenade along the sandy shore. There’s not much I like better than to take off my sandals and begin to know the earth, sand and sea through the soles of my feet. Each grain of sand seems to stimulate a prickle, a tingle, a sensation of pleasure divine. Each step sinks down in a new and different way, massaging my toes, and heels, and high into my instep. I feel the muscles relax sequentially all the way up to the top of my head. I am light. I am lovely. I am cleansed.

sunset view of neighbouring island rocks

My gait is measured by sighs of remembrance of innocence. Not knowing what will come to the senses next. Being open and available to be met with new experiences. This is the novelty of taking a break, a voyage, going somewhere new, sinking into it for a short time. A short enough time for everything to be highly valued, and long enough for one to absorb the place and time as it’s own unique offering. The four elements have nourished me deeply today, thanks to Koh Lanta, island of Nature.

Northern Thailand

Today I saw the beauty of the green farmlands out in the countryside surrounding the town of Pai.

Chiang Mai train station; we’re happy to travel light

We arrived to Pai by a long, windy mountain road from the city of Chiang Mai, after an overnight train ride from Bangkok, and a fabulous hostel stay in CM city for a few days. We are now holed up in a private bungalow cabin up on the side of a hill on the outskirts of Pai at a very popular meeting place, the Darling View Point Guesthouse. It is a town overtaken by hippies and paradise seekers. Thatch roofed huts on stilts stand above wet meadows, (we are told that they are smoked out from below once in awhile, against insect infestation). Rasta bars and reggae music abound. Chickens, roosters, small dogs and cats are everywhere, cavorting with hoop spinning dancers. Here, one can see every funky fashion, wild wooly hairstyle, colourful strong-inked tattoo, and body adornment possible. Street food draws us to it. Roasting yellow corn over coals, spring rolls, crepes with fresh fruit, and all manner of gooey and chewy items of unknown substance. I am very appreciative of ‘The Goodlife Restaurant’, where I can order a home-made natural plain yogurt to-go; something I miss dearly from home.

Each day we rent scooters and take off, breeze moving refreshingly against our skin. It was not without incident that I am now so comfortable driving this little noisy, smelly beastie of a machine. Straight off I fell with it’s weight in the gravel parking lot. I managed to right myself only after frantically trying to lurch it upwards, brakes on, yet gripping the throttle meanwhile and of course spinning gravel. Oh boy, I am shaking. I give up for the day and ride on the back with Autumn. She is expert as her nature is to be steady and adventurous at once. The next day, she is off with other friends and I am with a big well-built English young man who wants to share the ride and day with me. OK. I can ride behind him.

freedom 57

Not so. He turns out to be more anxious than me, and not only dumps in the road as he’s practicing, but he is bleeding as well. It is up to me. I must take ownership of the situation, bite the bullet, take the bull by the horns and just get on with it. Hop on the back Joe, keep close to my back, lean with me, and if we start to topple, get those long strong legs out to the sides. I am forced into taking control, and he is happy to be the passive protector. It works. My mountain biking skills really pay off here as I know not to keep hampering the forward movement with braking cautiousness. I am soon weaving through the overcrowded narrow streets of town, finding the path between the obstacles, and giving her gas! Woohoo!! Jilly can ride!

tasty bounty of the garden

Joe and I head out of town and begin to tour the area. What joy! We see tiny patchworks of flatlands, cast in many shades of green. We view terraced slopes catching the full sunshine. The land is tended with crops of legumes, vegetables, and grasses. There are papaya groves in shady clusters. White cattle graze below misty hills, and mountains clad in tall trees rise beyond. We visited a farm where the family grows fruit and vegies and herbs. We were served tamarind, passion fruit, dried bananas (we think), papaya, roselle juice and some homemade sweet wine. The farmer smiles as his grown daughter lays in the hammock with her husband stroking her pregnant belly. She tells me she is ‘7 months’. I tell her I helped many Moms bring babies into the world. We mime our meanings, as our languages only overlap in pleasantries. We are mutually charmed by one another. We walk through the garden and see the main ‘attraction’, which is a large crack, or crevice, in the earth next to the fruit tree orchard. Apparently the farmer woke up one morning and lo and behold, the earth had moved. Heaved up, shifted and broken open. He cannot farm that area now, but makes his lost income back in the tourist trade. Travellers come to see the landcrack, and to receive the bounty of the land; then drop a donation in the box. We are thankful for the experience.

orange rock paths by canyon

Pai has been very good to us. We have met some great people here and shared wonderful memories. Sunset music jams. Conversations in 3 or 4 languages around blazing fires of bamboo and foraged wood, laughing and joking about cultural stereotypes, especially our own. Yoga on the shady veranda, neighbourhood children splashing in the brook below, birdsong in the jungle. Bathing in pools below waterfalls, balancing in dancer or tree pose on craggy spines and fins alongside the canyon vistas, soaking in hotsprings. Watching the sunset from the Temple of the White Buddha which overlooks us all.

Khristian, Ragnard, and Jerrett

Our favourite new friends here are the Icelanders and their American friend. They are six young men, all energetic and vibrant. Keen to learn, and of course keen on Autumn. She is holding her own, lovely as ever. We go out dancing on the town and the Iceland boys show off their hip-hop moves, gymnastics stunts, and drinking skills…but nobody can beat Autumn in the limbo. There is no end of interesting conversation about their country. We learn that some are fishermen’s sons, others do trades. All worked very hard to be able to travel for months and months abroad to see a new world. It is one of the most rewarding aspects of our trip – to connect with people; travelers or locals, everyone has their story. Everyone has a light to shine.

give me a bike, I smile

Leaving Pai, we return to Chiang Mai and I get to observe life go by in the city. We rent bikes and glide through the morning, visiting a Buddhist monk school, admiring their blooming gardens, petting new baby kittens. I see a bride and groom getting their picture taken in the park just outside the ancient city walls. Flocks of pigeons rise up infront of them. There is laughing, kissing, flapping of wings, billowing layers of white gauzy skirts…she looks like a mother swan. In some mystical realm, this is a fertility omen. Still the birds continue to flow upwards; they seem to know this is a sacred moment. What a glorious sight; I hope it was captured to some degree on film.

One of the ways in which the Thai person’s personality has been revealed to me is by watching the traffic. Though at first it seemed dangerous to me, now I’m not so sure. It’s hard to tell if it’s safe or not, but this 3 lane one-way street has been flowing along nicely for the hour we’ve sat at coffee here on the corner. The whole system really does work. It moves! Not much tooting of horns going on either. The drivers seem extraordinarily calm, consistent and polite. Is this a reflection of the general cultural expectation and norm? I’ve only really seen one car speeding, and that was very late at night on an empty thoroughfare. The Thais seem exceptionally patient and even tempered. The occasional vehicle pulls over at an odd angle, blocking the lane, but subsequent drivers just gently pull round.

i-pads and tuk-tuks co-exist well

They are intuitive, they know what’s coming, or are they googling it perchance on their i-pads which perch above their seat? I do admire their efficiency. I would say there are more scooters than personal cars and trucks on the road. The windows of the cars are shaded, but I think there is usually only one person aboard, whereas the scooters hold at least two, more often than not. Unlike some other places I know, motorbikes are absolutely accepted here. Folks aren’t worried about the danger, they seem to look out for them. They don’t mind that they weave in and out of traffic and end up at the front of every stoplight line. Wish we had the climate and temperament to make it so.

Our tuk-tuk driver has a dead battery and I suggest that he get a push-start from the nearby troupe of workers hanging lights on the boulevard. It is most interesting observing how he asks them for help. First of all, he walks easily through the traffic to the other curb, where he stands looking this way and that. He has his back to them, but steals sideways glances. He doesn’t seem to want to catch the workers’ eyes. He certainly does not want to disturb them in their work. Me, in my forthright yet polite Canadian manner, would have stepped up unhaltingly and said ‘excuse me’, (remember, I am blocking traffic all the while with my tuk-tuk). However, this Thai driver simply waits. Is he shy? Is he embarrassed that his rig has failed him? He takes a step towards us. Is he going to give up and come back? He takes a step back. He looks at the workers. He looks at the trees. This is interesting. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d lit up a smoke. He actually waits until one of the workers happens to need to come and work over near where he is standing. He then gently leans in and tells of his plight, gesturing at us. Immediately, there are 6 to 8 men called over and action commences. We are push started very quickly and on our way. These people are helpful, modest, jolly and easy to be around. Calls of thanks – Ka pung Kaa!

Thai massage heaven awaits on those pillows

We continue to enjoy Thai massage. We meet a woman called Malai who trains young women in her trade. We are the lucky recipients of their talents. As we are gently kneaded, pushed, prodded, and pulled, our stresses and holds on life give way to bliss and ecstasy. Surely this is the ultimate sanctuary for the tired tissues, muscles and ligaments of the body, not to mention the mind, heart and spirit. Afterwards, we have the added pleasure, and sorrow, of hearing Malai’s tale. She had 2 children with a British man. He later took them from her when they were school age and sent off to boarding school. She wasn’t allowed to see them for 15 years and said she nearly went crazy. She remembered the address of the British grandfather and was eventually able to have a traveler friend go and look them up there. They thought she was dead. The grown daughter was overjoyed to reunite, even against the father’s wishes. The son too. Now Malai is at peace, has her family, and can skype with her grandchildren. The world turns, the cultures collide, the cocktail of flavours becomes more interesting…or is it more diluted?

waterfall blessing

I’ve been suffering on and off from mild travelling sickness. Tummy not feeling so great after eating. It puts a damper on enjoying the excellent cuisine here, but at least it’s not bad enough to stop me from doing other activities. I am truly trying to go with the flow, no pun intended. I decide to try charcoal tablets today, as it worked for our German neighbour. I’ve lived on higher intention, white rice and broth for 2 days to no avail, (except maybe the odd transcendent vision or two). Maybe I need to give up beer for awhile and live on smoothies – strawberry, papaya, ginger, kiwi, orange, passionfruit. Autumn suggests I try the whiskey remedy. One shot after every meal. Sounds like a good Grampa Jack cure. That’s turning adversity to advantage. This could be fun!

Bangkok Rocks

We love Bangkok, but just for a few days at a time. It feeds us, it warms us up, it makes us think deeply, laugh and feel good. It scares us, just a little bit, and makes us gawk and stare at the crazy hubbub of it all.

riverside  habitation

It’s a wild and wonderful mix of everything you love and hate about a city. Excellent street vendor food – yes. Fresh air – no. Cramped living quarters – yes. Fabulous outdoor site seeing, in this case temples – yes. Orderly traffic flow – yes, and no. (They seem to know what the order is, I don’t see it so much). Excellent night life and live music – yes.  Quiet after dark- no. Easy and affordable access to transportation by riverboat, street tuk-tuk (motor trike), taxi, Metro – yes. Abundance of nice, well-situated budget hotels – yes. A variety of shopping experiences at your fingertips – yes. Fresh and clean sidewalks, waterways, parks and public toilets – no. Warm climate – yes. Cold iced coffee, smoothies, juice, and beer sold streetside – yes. Great craft beer – no. Ah well, one can make the most of it because the culture here is laid back and welcoming.

Think of religion. It can be uplifting, but is often dogmatic and stifling; perhaps breeding arrogance, division, corruption and in some cases hostility, even in the layperson. Not so here. It is a Buddhist country.

detail Reclining Buddha

Buddhism expounds peace within and for all. It encourages looking inside oneself, tuning into the mind/body/heart, and living from a place of integrity. I’m thinking maybe the Thais don’t have the serious threat of guilt and shame hanging over them that some religious doctrines seem to foster. This, combined with an easy going race of people, and you seem to get a lovely balance of liberal mindedness, family values, slow and steady work ethic, and open hearts. It shows up in their willingness to go with the flow and accept the pleasures and beauties of life, along with the struggles. Whatever it is, it is tangible and good.

I love that I can just slip into a temple and meditate for a bit. Have a little quiet time in the beauty of the ornate decoration, the sublime and peaceful Buddha images, the sweet wafting incense, just to revive and refresh myself for my next effort at tourism out in the fray.

Temple surfing

Where else can you walk down the street and spontaneously receive a fabulous massage, indoors or out, on a padded lawn chair. Who could say no to a heavenly foot treatment after you’ve walked around for hours each day looking at glorious temples and photographing castle ruins? Not us. At a mere $8 CAD/hour we bask in the delights of relaxation and healing touch. This really works for me.

Eat lemon coconut chicken soup. Eat green curry vegetables with exotic wild mushrooms (so yummy) served over rice. Eat Pad Thai. Eat dripping skewers of meat. Eat shrimp with green beans, basil, and red curry. Eat well. Eat out on the street. Sit on tiny stools tucked under flowering bushes on the sidewalk. Stand with friends you’ve just met, and eat roasted cashews out of a bag. Or – take your shoes off and enter a cool and sublime atmosphere within a patio of lush plants, colourful decor, and cool music.

detail, Golden Palace

Lay on pillows as you dine. Lounge on wooden platforms with lanterns and ribbons swaying above you. Lap up the luxury; savour the flavours. Enjoy the parade of trend-ily dressed girls, lady boys, and handsome men from all over the world. Hear exotic accents and languages spoken. Drink iced green tea. Drink coconut water from the shell. Drink iced cappuccino. Drink mango smoothie. Drink water only from a sealed bottle. Drink it in, eat it up, absorb it, and hope that it doesn’t wreak havoc of some sort and come out the other end too fast.

By the way, if you are in Bangkok in the Khao San Rd area, (Khao San road itself is so busy and crazy that it is only worth one visit, but not to stay, however the whole area is named thus), check out the Blues Bar, on Samsan Road, just left around the corner from the Bhiman Inn. (we enjoyed staying at this small, clean, hotel with a pool, on Phrasumane Road, near the Chao Phraya River). At the Blues Bar, you can see live music every night in an intimate, artsy setting. One night Autumn and I separated as she had friends to meet with for a meal. I met a man from Barcelona over dinner. He now lives in Chiang Mai, north of here, and does frequent business in Bangkok. He showed me this music venue, and it is fine. We gathered with other new friends and talked and laughed, listened and danced to the excellent playing of 3 Thai blues musicians. Brilliant! Autumn was shocked when she arrived home before me at 2am…oh, mommy…good that you left a note!

Khao San Road

Getting around the city on a hot and balmy day is in itself a feat of courage and faith. It definitely keeps us on our toes when trying to cross a busy street; remembering to look to the right first, then left, as the traffic is opposite to that at home. Scooters and motorcycles will race out of a traffic jam and get ahead on the wrong side of the road, exactly just when you’ve stepped out into it…yikes!

The river boat which moves foot traffic along the water is not to be missed. Not so much because it is breezy and cool and novel and takes you (eventually) where you want to go, but also because at peak periods of the day it leaves you laughing with relief to have made it safely through the utmost of confusion.

huts along the river

Long queues of commuters swarming onto various vessels, boat guides barking unintelligible numbers and names into bullhorns, (sometimes taking payment and other times not), with seemingly no clear directive help from the dock staff. Well, doesn’t really matter since the trip is usually enjoyable just cause you’re out on the water, diesel in the air, birds calling, temple walls and spires round each bend, wakes of other craft gently splashing and rolling the boat, and just a general sense of adventure all round.

neighborhood park market

You’ve made it home again in one piece. You feel you’ve achieved something in your hard day of travelling. You can dive into the pool of the Bhiman Inn, do a few standing yoga poses on the canal terrace, and watch the swimming lizard slowly slide by with it’s tail swishing. (Never, ever seen any animal like it before…8 foot long…scaly and dragon-like…very tranquil, though with a constantly flicking tongue. Wouldn’t want to swim with it, especially since there is a sad abundance of plastic floating around). You’ve had a good day, and will have another one tomorrow and the next, but then you’ll be on your way, as there is only so much city stimulation of this sort which one from a small green island can handle.