Diary - Salters' travels

Two days to find the soul of a new city

Seoul is clean, modern and very shiny. A rather startling difference to Manila. The weather was better as well. Warm and sunny rather than hot and damp. Much nicer. Unfortunately, we only had a couple of days in Seoul so we had to make do with a quick look around.

In Manila, every time we arrived at the hotel, we were met by a gang of people trying to help us. Someone would open the taxi door. Others would grab our luggage. A couple of people would open the hotels doors. The sole job of one guy was checking the inside of the taxi with a flashlight to ensure we had not left anything. I quite liked that. Had we been in Egypt, everyone would have expected a tip. In the Philippines, it was simply being helpful. Now we were in South Korea. Clean and modern. The taxi driver left us standing on the pavement with our luggage. There was no-one else there. We opened the hotel doors ourselves and carried our own luggage through. There was no reception. The entrance area was empty except for a small cart selling coffee and doughnuts. We could deal with lack of doormen, porters and bell boys but lack of a reception was a problem. It felt like we had gone from one extreme to another.

We did eventually find the reception. It was on the 2nd floor. Why? I was sufficiently puzzled that I explicitly asked. The only response I got was smiles. It was getting late. I smiled back as if I understood. They handed us a key and a room number. We understood at least how this worked. Half an hour later we had found an excellent Indian restaurant just around the corner and everything in the world was fine again.

If you do a search on things to do in Seoul, most of the responses will be about the DMZ and the border with North Korea. After Cambodia and Vietnam, we were full of war things. Enough killing and torture for a while. Plan B was to have a walk around Seoul and see what we could find. By luck, we stumbled across a pedestrianised shopping area. This was interesting. Possibly as much for the people watching as the contents of the shops. K-pop and Gangnam style themes were strongly on display. Many small and skinny young women strutted around in elaborate clothing that bordered on being a costume. Elaborate hair styles and perfect make-up completed the look. I was intrigued by the shops full of arcade machines. Just one type of game – the sort where you use a toy crane to lift a gift out of a transparent box. There were several shops packed scores of one type of game. Apparently immensely popular but why? Further on we came across a Harry Potter themed bar. It had a parking spot for brooms and a model dragon outside. Inside you could by butter beer. People had arrived in costumes to fully immerse themselves in the fantasy.

Next day we went to visit the Gyeongbokgung Palace. First job was to master the underground train system. The proved to be quite straight forward and we emerged, triumphant close to the Gwanghwamun Gate. I enjoy travelling new cities by public transport. It seems like an essential step in getting to know a place. The entrance fee for Gyeongbokgung Palace was only a couple of dollars however, a large sign proclaimed that entry was free if you were wearing Hanbok. This is the iconic, traditional Korean attire known for its vibrant colours, elegant lines and lack of complex pockets or tight fasteners. Should you wish to get into the spirit of this then, we discovered later, you can rent suitable attire close to the palace. It was all really rather nice. The majority of visitors were dressed in traditional costume. They paraded around in groups being followed by photographers. Only a few people, like us, were the obvious tourists.

The palace was built six centuries ago by the founder of the Chosun dynasty. In 1592, amidst the Imjin War, the palace was completely burned down. It was not restored until the late 19th century, during the reign of the penultimate monarch, Gojong. In 1910, Japan colonized Korea and systematically demolished the palace. Almost all the 500 structures were sold off and shipped elsewhere. By the 1945 liberation of Korea, only 40 pre-colonial buildings remained. Significant efforts to restore the palace to its pre-colonial state began in the 1980s. Since then, two phases of recreation have built dozens of buildings in the palace. Many more are scheduled for the future.

We would certainly have learned a lot more had we joined one of the guided tours. However, we were quite happy just pottering around taking in the architecture and the ambience. In places the contrast between the traditional buildings and high-rise glass skyscrapers in the background was quite stark. The central building of the palace is set in an artificial lake. Behind it is a small hill that is parkland. If you look in just the correct direction all you can sense is relaxed countryside with no hint of the city.

We walked back into the city centre as the light was starting to fade. The quantity and size of the display screens that adorn many of the skyscrapers is impressive. We walked past some equally impressive statues and discovered the really strangely shaped building. Most cities have one. We also passed a demonstration. Unfortunately, all the protesters’ signs were written in Korean. Even with a bit of Google Translate, I could not work out what they were upset about.

That was it for Seoul. A big, bustling, fashionable and modern city. In the morning we went back to the airport for the final leg of our journey to China.

How to explore Manila on a rainy day

Manila was a bit of a washout. When we arrived, it was hot and the pollution index was seriously high. From our hotel on the 20^th floor, we could see a nasty looking yellowish-brown smog hanging over the city and obscuring buildings in the distance. The health advice was to avoid outside exercise. And it was hot. Obviously, it was hot, we are close to the equator. Well over 30°C and humid. High humidity makesiHH the heat feel worse.

We went out in the evening to find food. Manila is one of these places where everything is piled on top of everything else. Our hotel is a perfectly reasonable three-star hotel with a Starbucks adjoining it. However, two steps down the road, is a small, far more local shop, which mostly seems to sell pot noodles and usually has a collection of people, children and dogs hanging around outside. An old woman is selling fruit from a rusty basket on a bicycle. Then comes a lean-to shack with a charcoal burner at the front. A couple of people are frying up some sort of fritters which occasionally get bought by passers-by. At the back of shack are children sleeping on the floor. It is impossible to walk down the pavement because it is being used for every conceivable purpose except for walking. There are people sitting, sleeping, praying, begging, fixing scooters, cooking food, playing games and fighting. A little further down the street are food stores, restaurants with two plastic chairs on the pavement, 24-hour massage parlours, a money-exchange, cafes, several bars and strip clubs. Barely dressed young girls lean out of the door to entice passing potential customers. Even though we are walking down the road, past the parked cars, we are assaulted every few metres by someone trying to get our attention. Get a tattoo, buy a drink, eat some noodles. The pestering is relentless. Strong smells abound. Some of the cooking is pleasant but this is mixed with the stink of rubbish and the occasional deeply unpleasant sewer smell.

It is all a bit full-on and by the time we reach a shopping mall, the Princess has slipped into a kind of culture shock. Stepping into the mall was to step into a completely different world. We needed to queue past the security guards and the scanner and then, suddenly, everything was bright and clean. Smartly dressed, pleasantly perfumed people were going about their clothes shopping or sipping latte macchiato with oat milk in the coffee shops. The air was cool and clean. Everything seemed fresh and modern. There were familiar shop brands and restaurant chains. It looked and felt like any contemporary western mall. Different worlds all piled on top of each other. Outside the mall there were grubby children in rags playing on the steps of the Sheraton Hotel.

Intramuros literally means “within the walls”. This is a small area within the centre of Manila. A centuries-old historic district entirely surrounded by fortifications. This was considered, at the time of the Spanish Empire, to be the entire City of Manila. Intramuros served as the seat of government of the Philippines, a component realm of the Spanish Empire. The walled city was the religious and educational centre of the Spanish East Indies. Intramuros was also an economic centre as the Asian hub of the Manila galleon trade, carrying goods to and from Acapulco in what is now Mexico.

Next day, the rain kicked in properly. Tropical rain in the rainy season. The downpours ranged from heavy to gentle but never quite stopped. The clouds were thick and heavy. Humidity was way up. You could probably wring water straight out of the air. It is impossible to stay dry outside. Far too hot for a raincoat. An umbrella helps a little but the rain is going everywhere in the gusting squalls of wind. If that does not soak you then you will soon be dripping with sweat because of the heat. There is no winning. If you go outside, you will come back soaked.

On the upside, the pollution was reduced. I imagine some of the particulate matter gets washed out of the air. When we were in Dehli, there was talk of seeding clouds to try and create rain in a bid to reduce the pollution level. Here it was happening quite naturally. This was possibly a good thing but the weather was not ideal for tourist activities. Simply going outside at all could be an epic. Trips into the countryside were completely out. There would be no views, just mud and rain.

Do not swim in Manila Bay. Levels of faecal coliform bacteria are measured here that are thousands or even millions of times higher than the safe limit. Probably a result of poorly maintained and overloaded sewage systems. This is especially the case during periods of high rainfall. Good snorkelling can be had around the Philippines but you need to get far away from the cities. In our case, given what we had read about bacterial pollution, there was no way Princess was even considering the possibility of putting a toe in the water.

Peering down from our 20^th floor perch, I can just see a section of road that is flooded. This is useful to estimate how bad the rain is. In gentle rain, puddles form either side of the road. With more rain, these expand until the road is completely covered. Initially nobody is put off by this except pedestrians. The traffic slows down but keeps going. As the flood depth increases less traffic passes. The little scooters are first to lose their nerve. Then the passenger carrying motor carts, small cars, larger SUVs and finally trucks. A quick glance at the flooded road section is all we need to estimate how wet it is outside. It is our rain gauge road. Just now it is at the small car limit.

For 300 years the Spanish happily plied their trade from Intramuros. Churches, Universities, Plazas and hospitals were built. In 1898 there was a war with the newly founded United States (US). Rising tensions in Spanish Cuba led to an all-out declaration of war. This concluded the same year with the Treaty of Paris. Ownership of Puerto Rico, Guam and the Philippines was ceded to the US. Cuba was set up to become an independent state in 1902. In a single year, Spain went from being a major world power to being a failing one while the US stepped forward as a newly significant player.

The Americans made drastic changes to Manila. Intramuros walls were pulled down to allow easier access to the city. The moat was filled in and turned into a golf course. An act that would probably please the current president of the US. All change again in 1941 when the Japanese invaded. This was part of their sudden sweep across the Pacific that was taking everyone by surprise. The Imperial Japanese Army was pushed back, eventually retreating into the Intramuros area. General MacArthur approved heavy shelling. Over 17,000 Japanese were killed and the Intramuros was razed. 40% of all the walls were destroyed. During the battle of Manila, which only took a month, 100,000 Filipino civilians were killed. Not long after WW2, the Intramuros was declared a historical monument.

Just as we were leaving to visit the Intramuros, the national emergency alert system barked into life. This is the mechanism that sends warning messages to everybody’s mobile phone. Severe rain warning. We could have guessed. Outside the Intramuros, we enlisted the help of two disaffected youths with motor bike carts to take us around. They assured us that they were trained and authorised guides. Each cart was big enough for one person. They were draped with plastic sheet so we could stay a little dry. We also had an umbrella each. Even so, a soaking was inevitable. The two lads tried hard. For three hours they ferried us between locations. We did not learn very much and I did not get any good photographs. It was quite fun. We eventually parted company back at the mall. Here we could dry off a little and find some dinner.

It was time to leave. We did not see a lot of Manila and nothing of the rest of the Philippines. Perhaps we will need to come back at a different time of year. We are sat at the airport now. The emergency alert system is still spitting out warnings but the planes are flying so we should be able to get to Seoul.

Visiting a old colony and the big buddha

The First Opium War began in 1839 when the Qing Dynasty enforced a ban on the opium trade. Opium was Britain’s single most profitable commodity in the 19th century so this was not well received. The navies of the British Empire and the last great Chinese dynasty squared up to each other. Inevitably, the technologically superior ships and weapons of the British prevailed. Hong Kong was ceded by way of compensation. 157 years later, in 1997, sovereignty was handed back to China.

Hong Kong is now a special administrative region of China with its own governing and economic systems. At nearly 8 million residents it is one of the most densely populated places in the world. Hong Kong has the most skyscrapers in the world, the most expensive residential property market and the longest life expectancy. It is one of the most expensive cities in the world and one of the most visited. The city has one of the highest per capita incomes, although severe income inequality still exists among the population.

We caught a few glimpses through the clouds before landing. Gleaming white tower blocks all looking remarkably similar. Islands, water, bridges, roads. Hong Kong looks very modern and busy from the air.

We bustled through the airport without any problems. All very quick and easy. Nothing at all like Manchester. Then we had to find our taxi. I had prebooked the taxi. This usually works quite well. Just after we landed, I got a message from our driver. After we had collected our bags, I checked to see where to meet him. More messages and pictures. Go past this shop. Go down the escalator. Follow this sign. Go round this corner. Suddenly, I felt like we were in one of those TV games where contestants race each other to follow clues and win a prize. Go into this hotel lobby. Down two more escalators. Go outside and call me. Ok. Outside I am out of range of the airport Wi-Fi now. The local phone carrier is not connecting – this is not unusual. Often there is a bit of messing around to get 4G data. Back into the hotel to use their Wi-Fi. Not straightforward but fortunately the receptionist is helpful. I get the message out. We gather up our bags and wait outside. Temperature is in the mid 30°Cs. Rain is in the air. Humidity is sky high. It is seriously busy. People and bags and taxis everywhere. Hot, sweaty and crowded. Welcome to Hong Kong.

We were in Hong Kong for a few days and every day the weather was the same. Hot, humid and raining for at least part of the day. One night we were treated to crashing thunderstorm which rattled the hotel for a couple of hours. First day we wandered down to the waterfront. The view across the harbour is skyscrapers and ships set against dark, rain laded skies. The crowds were unbelievable. It was just an ordinary day but it was ridiculously difficult to walk anywhere. Part dancing and part fighting, we zigzagged along the pedestrian areas. We were surrounded, in all directions, by young Asian people looking at their phones. A great sea of people with their heads bent forward and their attention elsewhere. At times, I felt like we had been pitched into some sort of dystopian vision.

Back at the waterfront we caught the Star Ferry back. This is a classic passenger ferry running since regularly since1880. Often cited as a “must” for tourists. We enjoy a ferry and this one was lovely. In 1897, a double ended ship design was introduced. This could be piloted from either end and sail in both directions saving time and money by not having to turn around. In 1904 adjustable benches were introduced. The back of the bench is hinged allowing passengers to face the direction of travel by just adjusting the seat. The current ships are about 70 years old which makes the whole experience a little like stepping back in time.

Hot, humid and crowded is not my favourite. Occasionally, we would be soaked by one of the short, sharp and incredibly wet, rain showers. We were finding it quite difficult to do any touristing but we did try. The underground metro train system is extremely easy to use and much of it has air conditioning. We crossed under the harbour and explored Hong Kong island. Many, many shops and skyscrapers. We discovered a Marks & Spencer shop where Diane could buy some new undies.

It was Diane’s birthday. We took advice from a mutual friend (thank you Philip) and set off to visit the Buddha on Lantau Island. The day began with a metro ride to Tung Chung and breakfast in a pleasant square surrounded by coffee houses. Then came the cable car ride. We paid extra to go in a gondola with a glass floor. It was quite a long ride. 5.5 km. Quite interesting as well. The Ngong Ping 360 Skyrail was completed in 2006. The day before the official opening, on the trial runs, there was an incident where an arriving car collided with a late leaving car. The system automatically halted and 500 volunteers were stranded for over two hours. The cable makes a sharp left turn not far from Tung Chung and crosses the bay. It continues up the mountain side and arrives at Ngong Ping after 25 minutes.

Ngong Ping is a tourist village. It really is. I don’t think anyone actually lives there. Mostly, it is shops selling either food or souvenirs. We walked on towards the Po Lin Monastery and the Tian Tan Buddha. A 34 m bronze statue on top of the hill. 260 steps take you up to the Buddha. He is really quite magnificent. Sat comfortably on the summit looking all peaceful and serene. The hike up there is enough to feel some small sense of achievement without being a major challenge. Inside is a small museum and display area.

Back in Ngong Ping the heat was starting to get to us. We took a bus to Mui Wo on the far side of the island. The bus was cool or even cold inside and there was no-one else other than the drive. board. The half hour trip felt a little like a private tour. We even drove past the shiftily named Tong Fuk Beack.

At Mui Wo Pier, we were seriously outnumbered by shopkeepers trying to sell us a food and drink. We picked one and drank delicious, ice-cold beer while sitting at a table overlooking the bay. I am neither a fan of lager type beer nor of cold beer but on this occasion it was perfect. From here, we hopped on a ferry back to Hong Kong Island. This was a more modern catamaran where we were not allowed on deck. It was still quite an interesting trip back. Diane’s birthday was rounded off with a meal at a restaurant that specialised in freshly made pizza.

On our last day, we set off to have a walk around Kowloon Park. The rain got us. We walked around most of the park and then the rain arrived. Not a short shower this time but a full-on downpour that settled in for a couple of hours. In the evening, once we were dried out, we set off to get dinner. There is food everywhere in Hong Kong. From simply walking around the streets, you might conclude that all the locals do is eat. Much of it is very Chinese. All the menus and signs are in Chinese. Noodles, rice and many types of meat or fish. We avoided these since there was no way to be sure what we would be getting. Hong Kong is a remarkable clash of cultures. If you start looking there is every type of restaurant you can think of. Italian, Indian, French, Nepali, Japanese, Chinese, Thai, Vietnamese, everything. We would start off by using Google to find some type of restaurant, such as an Indian. Then we would go out and find it. This was not always as easy as you might imagine. Hong Kong is a mass of skyscrapers and many restaurants are inside. The address only gets you so far. Then you need to start looking for publicly accessible lifts with signs next to them. Or you might find yourself wandering around a small mall. On a couple of occasions, we simply failed to find the restaurant we wanted.

That was Hong Kong. Way too hot, humid and crowded for me. I often feel like a fish out of water in cities. Imposter syndrome. Everyone else seems to know what they are doing and where they are going while I am feeling a bit lost and unsure. Hong Kong seemed to bring this out in me more than usual.

A hot quick tour of the highlights

We arrived at Ho Chi Min City in the evening but did not disembark until the next morning. A few days earlier, I discovered that I had booked the hotel for the day after we were to disembark. An out by one error when working with calendars. I find it quite easy to make this sort of mistake and have done much worse. Once booked a train trip for the wrong month. Very embarrassing at the station. This one, fortunately, was spotted in time and quite easy to fix. Hotel sorted, we still had the problem of what to do for the day until we could check in. The solution to this was a guided tour of Ho Chi Min City. Logistically this worked well. We could load our luggage into the car and get dropped off at our hotel when the tour was finished.

First stop was a market. A massive covered market selling everything from clothing and jewellery to food. It was slightly interesting. It was also hot and crowded. The sheer volume of goods was quite remarkable. We passed through a section that sold hats. Every type of hat imaginable. Thousands of hats. I have never seen so many hats in one place. Then there was a section for kitchenware, then souvenirs, then t-shirts. And so, it went on. Mixed up in all of this were little stalls selling hot food. Usually, some sort of noodles along with tea and coffee.

I imagined there might be people, probably pale and a bit shifty, that came into the market first thing and never emerged until well after nightfall. Maybe they just lived in the market all the time. I am sure there are many secret and hidden places deep inside the labyrinth.

Fortunately, we emerged, blinking, into the sunlight after less than an hour. Next up was the Independence Palace. In 1962, the palace was bombed by two dissident Republic of Vietnam Air Force pilots. They were attempting to assassinate the President Diệm and trigger a general uprising. The revolution failed but the palace was razed. The Independence Palace, officially the Reunification Hall, was built in 1966 as the presidential palace, home and workplace of the president of the Republic of Vietnam (South Vietnam). Famously, it was also the site of the Fall of Saigon in April 1975 when a Liberation Army of South Vietnam tank crashed through its gates ending the Vietnam War. The palace is now preserved as a public museum and a convention centre for state events.

We wandered around some of the publicly accessible rooms. They were all grand, a little bare and very 1960s. In the room used by the president to receive guests, the presidential chair was raised, regally, a little above those of his visitors. On the roof of the palace a Bell UH-1 Iroquois – “Huey” still sits – all ready to evacuate the president and his family. We also went down to the basement which has two levels of bomb shelter. The rooms here also acted a command centre.

On the way out, we stopped to take a photograph of the famous tank. First, I needed to wait until some people had done with posing in front it. Now, I don’ t mind waiting my turn but I have included a picture of what I was waiting for. Why do people do this? I am referring to the strange poses where they are sort of pointing at each other. See this a lot and do not understand it.

Next stop was the carpet shop. There is always a carpet shop. You know that now. This one was making lacquered pictures. The pictures are on sheets of wood for mounting on the wall, or on little boxes, bowls, plates, cups and even chop sticks. They are genuinely nice but overpriced and we have no way to carry any of this stuff home.

We got served some interesting coffee. Usually, if you get coffee made from beans it will be some type of Arabica coffee. Instant coffee is more often made from Robusta coffee. Robusta is easier to grow and much cheaper but has a bitter taste. This can be removed chemically during the instant coffee process. Here they were serving Robusta egg coffee. The egg yolks are whipped with condensed milk and sugar and then gently heated using a water bath. Direct boiling would cause the eggs to curdle. The lipids in the yolk emulsify with the coffee, neutralizing the bitter tannins of the Robusta bean to form a thick, silky smooth and slightly aromatic foam. End result is really quite delicious.

We discovered that knowing Cambodia requires understanding something of what happened with the Khmer Rouge. It was a massive upheaval, from which shock waves are still reverberating. Similarly, I think understanding Vietnam requires some consideration of the war.

French Indochina is approximately the area covered by Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos. Since the 19^th century it was ruled by the French. During the aftermath of WW2, the Indochina wars were waged from 1945 to 1991. Communist forces (mainly ones led by Vietnamese communists) against the Vietnamese nationalists, the French, American, Laotian royalist, Cambodian royalist, and Chinese communist forces. The second Indochina war became known as the Vietnam War – a civil war but also a proxy war for the USA, Russian and China. The third war began in 1975 when the Kampuchean Revolutionary Army invaded a Vietnamese island. It officially ended with the signing of the 1991 Paris Peace Agreements. Things are reasonably peaceful now but the whole area has an enormous legacy of wars. Our next stop was a museum about the Vietnam war. This was the most intense of the Indochina wars.

The US dropped at least 7 million tons of bombs. Over three times as many as were dropped in WW2. In Laos this amounted to approximately one ton of bombs per person. Over 80 million unexploded bombs remain. So far, they have killed nearly 50,000 people and continue to kill 50 innocents a year. Despite the efforts of Amanda (remember Amanda the Hero Rat?) and her friends, the explosives will possibly never be removed completely.

The museum primarily focuses on what the USA did during the war. It is harrowing stuff. There were massacres, rapes, and other war crimes. There was carpet bombing – saturation bombing where bombs are dropped in such a high concentration on a small area that nothing escapes. Chemical defoliants, such as Agent Orange, were used to open up hiding places and prevent food from growing. The massive dose of chemicals continues to change the landscape, cause diseases and birth defects, and poison the food chain. 20% of the jungles of South Vietnam were destroyed along with 20-36% of the mangrove forests. The museum includes many examples of ordinance and weapons. Outside are military vehicles and aircraft.

The last part of our tour took in some city centre sights. The Notre-Dame Cathedral Basilica of Saigon is undergoing renovations and covered in sheets. I noticed vines growing up the scaffold poles and wondered about how long this project had been going on. We had a look at the post office – a classic example of French 19^th century architecture – which still functions as a post office. We went to the opera house and finally we were done.

We stayed in Ho Chi Min City for a couple more days. Nothing dreadfully exciting happened. We found a nice Indian Restaurant. I spotted a skyscraper that looks like the Avenger’s Tower. Bought some clothes at the incredibly cheap market dead opposite our hotel. Paid too much for a western style pizza. It was hot. Too hot for simply wandering around except for quite short trips. Suddenly it was time to go. We got some nice views over the whole city as we left.

How to fix the venom in your cocktail

We all had a late breakfast after visiting the floating market. Meanwhile the Princess pulled up the anchor and set sail for Ben Tre. This was going to take most of the afternoon. We got to kick back and enjoy watching the river slide past. It was thoroughly enjoyable having a lazy afternoon. I indulged with a beer at lunch, caught up with some sleep missed because of the early morning and spent a while sorting photographs out. Later on, the chef appeared to give us a demonstration of his knife skills. I was hoping this might involve some kitchen staff tied to a rotating wheel while the chef, blindfolded hurled enormous carving knifes at them. The reality was a melon carved into a flower and a slightly odd-looking bird made from two tomatoes.

We dropped anchor across the far side of the river from Lien Hoa Pagoda. This is a new temple and features a prominent 33 m tall statue of Avalokiteshvara. Next morning we were all ready to get on with it. An early breakfast and then into the sampan to visit “coconut island”. That is what Nam the man called it. We crossed the river and then turned into a narrow channel lined by bamboo and coconut trees. During the Vietnam war, many people hid out on these almost impenetrable islands. It was easy to see that they would make great hiding places. Further in we stopped at a small jetty. Just a few steps to the water really. This bought us to a footpath which we followed for 15 minutes or so.

We were walking through farmland. It was clearly cultivated although it felt very natural. There were many coconuts and also pomelo. This started me thinking about vodka again although it was a bit early in the morning. How could I smuggle a couple of large pomelos onto the Princess? Suddenly we emerged onto a narrow concrete road and there were two xe lôi (motor carts) waiting for us. This was a genuinely nice surprise. We clambered in and then were driven down the narrow road for another 15 minutes or so. Eventually we arrived at the carpet shop. This was inevitable although it was an interesting one. Here they made coconut candy. We were shown how it was produced and given a sample. It was nice, a little like a soft toffee. The main ingredient was the juice of the coconut flesh which was squeezed out and then reduced over an open fire.

Next to the fire was a still. Here they made firewater into which they put scorpions and snakes. Mostly cobra. Apparently, the alcohol neutralises the poison. I would have been game to try the liquor but not with a drowned snake in it. There was a large display of local goods. Thing made of wood, bowls, scarves and cotton shirts. Once we had bought all that was going to be bought, we were herded down the garden.

Here we got loaded, four at a time, in exceedingly small sampans which were paddled downstream through the bamboo lined channels. This was a twenty-minute trip. It was good, gentle fun. I hoped to spot a snake in the water but didn’t. We did see a lot of water coconut also known as nipa palm or mangrove palm. Unlike most the nipa palm’s trunk grows beneath the ground. Only the leaves and flower stalk grow upwards above the surface. The leaves extend up to 9 metres (30 feet) in height. The fruit is globular made of many seed segments. Each seed has a fibrous husk that allows it to float.

At the end of the boat ride came another 15-minute walk. Although there were a few houses around, this still felt deep in the jungle. Exotic plants were everywhere with dense, green foliage.

We arrived at a coffee house right on the bank of the river. Perfect. Drinks were served. Small green coconuts with straws in. Our sampan arrived almost like it had been summoned and we all got onboard for the short trip back to the Princess.

That was pretty much the end of trip. The Mekong Princess made her way to Ho Chi Minh City. The route was interesting. The boat was designed to be able to moor up close to the centre of the city unlike many of the river cruise boats which are forced to stop several hours drive away. There was another cooking demonstration but since this involved cutting up fish we chose to skip it. The rest of the day was packing bags, sorting out some photographs and getting ready to disembark in the morning.

How to spot a dancing unicorn

We docked at Can Tho City late in the afternoon. This was altogether a much larger and more vibrant settlement than we had become accustomed to. We moored up alongside a park area. Across from this was the main street and then off to the left, a large market area.

Shortly after we arrived, two unicorns turned up. To me, a unicorn is a white horse that poops rainbow coloured ice-cream and has a narwhale tusk on its head. Not here. In Vietnam we have the Tứ linh, the Four Sacred Animals. These are:

Long (Dragon) Represents power, nobility, and the emperor.
Lân (Unicorn / Qilin): Represents luck, virtue, and peace.
Quy (Turtle / Tortoise): Represents longevity, wisdom, and stability.
Phượng / Phụng (Phoenix): Represents grace, rebirth, and nobility.

These turn up all over the place from small household decorations to major installations in temples. Our two unicorns looked, to me, like saffron yellow dragons or possibly lion-dogs. But they were definitely unicorns. A unicorn has hooves rather than claws, which is how to tell the difference. Our unicorns actually had sneakers just to add to the confusion. Nonetheless, they were here to do the Vietnamese unicorn dance, the múa lân, for us. The dance is a vibrant traditional performance that brings blessings of prosperity, happiness, and luck during major celebrations like Tết (Lunar New Year), the Mid-Autumn Festiva and when the Mekong Princess arrives on your doorstep. Its origins are in China where it is called a Lion Dance. From there, it has now spread all over the world. Since 1984, there is a biannual Lion dance world championship in Malaysia.

Each dragon was manned by two energetic youths. Accompanying them are two actors representing Ông Địa – pot-bellied God of the earth and Thần Tài – God of wealth and prosperity. According to legend, Ông Địa tamed the wild, beastly unicorn to bring peace and good fortune to humans. During the dance, he clears the path, interacts with the crowd, and playfully teases the mythical beasts with a palm-leaf fan. Thần Tài wears regal, imperial robes (usually bright red and gold), a traditional mandarin hat with extended wings, and a long black beard. He often carries a golden ingot (thỏi vàng). He bows politely to business owners and hands out symbolic red envelopes to attract financial success. Together, Ông Địa and Thần Tài represent a complete blessing for a household or business—Ông Địa brings peaceful stability to the land, while Thần Tài brings flowing wealth and fortune

The pace and emotion of the entire dance are controlled by the musicians who perform right alongside the dancers. They are viewed as core characters of the performance rather than just background music.

The whole performance probably only took about 10 minutes. But it was both fascinating and fun to watch. Once everything was over, our guide, Nam from Vietnam, took us off to explore the Zuhang Pagoda and the market. Dusk was falling and lights were coming on. We visited a statue of Ho Chi Minh (Uncle Ho) in the park. Ho Chi Minh sailed the world as cook on a ship. He joined the French Communist Party in Paris in 1920 to advocate for anti-colonial freedom. He formed the Viet Minh independence movement in 1941 and seized power in Hanoi, declaring Vietnam’s independence from the French in 1945. Of course, the French may have been a little distracted on account of WW2. Uncle Ho is revered in Vietnam. There is a strong cult of personality.

The Zuhang Pagoda was built 1890 by Chinese immigrants. It features traditional vibrant colours, glazed tiles, and intricate roof carvings. It was recognised as a national historic and cultural relic in 1993. The temple primarily honours the Chinese deity Guan Yu alongside altars for the Goddess of Mercy (Quan Âm) and the God of Fortune (Thần Tài). We had just been blessed by Thần Tài so it seemed appropriate that we popped in for a visit. Wikipedia mentions “The interior is famous for its large, slowly burning conical incense coils that hang from the ceiling, filling the space with a fragrant, atmospheric haze”. The truth is a thick smog of smoke that will leave you gasping if you spend too much time in there.

Back out in the fresh air, we could inhale the fresh air deeply and smell the durian fruit. Diane and I encountered durian in Thailand. To some people it is the king of fruit. To others, the smell is as if the worst sewer ever had been rotting for a hundred years. It is banned on public transport and in most hotels.

The market was quite amazing in the early evening darkness. Masses of fruit and vegetables along with many types of animal parts, fish bits and things with suckers on. There were also little plates of prepared food, cakes, sweets, raw stuff, cooked stuff and stuff that could have been anything. One stall had a great display of food on skewers. I think the idea was that you made a selection and then cooked it yourself on the charcoal grill at the front. It was quite remarkable just how much food was on display. We looked politely but saved ourselves for the lovely meal that chef was preparing on the Princess.

No dogs or rats hurt in making this headline

Dark and early in the morning, we were back in the sampan heading upstream from our mooring in Can Tho. The Cái Răng Floating Market, about 15 minutes from Can Tho, usually starts early, around 3am. It is primarily a wholesale vegetable market. Traders get here early so that they can buy goods to take to the commercial markets by sunrise before 7 am. So, we had turned out ludicrously early. Even before breakfast.

The market consists of a lot of boats, some rafted up together, in the middle of the river. At the market, goods are advertised by a method known as “bẹo hàng”. This is the practise of of hanging a sample of the goods (such as fruits or vegetables) on a long pole instead of using signs. The “selling boat” typically hangs any plant pot to distinguish it from the “buying boat.” The “bẹo” is a long pole (often made of bamboo), tied with any item for marking or signalling something. So, as we approached, we could see boats with pineapples, sweet potatoes, water melons and other produce hanging from bamboo poles.

Smaller boats circled the sellers collecting goods to take to market. In between these were other small boats supplying services to everyone else. This included some general store boats carrying a bit of everything. And café boats selling coffee, tea and something for breakfast.

We drifted past and then went to visit a floating noodle factory. This was a two-story building on a barge. Downstairs was the shopping area selling a vast range of noodles and souvenirs. It was in fact, a floating carpet shop attracting tourists that had been lured in by the floating market. Upstairs they made the noodles. A thin dough was poured onto a fine mesh over boiling water. I imagine the dough was a rice and water paste. After a few moments cooking, it was collected onto a large, bamboo roller and put to dry. After an hour or so the disc of partially dried dough was mechanically shredded into fine noodles. These were balled up and left out in the sun to dry or fried in deep fat. The ovens here used stone fireplaces fuelled by the rice husk we had seen collected from the rice polishing factories. It burned quickly so a hopper on the top of the oven could be used to provide fine control over the oven.

Back in the sampan, we passed through the market again. Things were getting a lot quieter on the selling front now. Then we went ashore close-by to have a look at the wet market. An area of narrow streets where pedestrians fought with scooters over goods that were mostly laid out on the ground. We had been warned of the possibility of gruesome goods. In particular, we were warned of rats. Not rats running around stealing stuff but rats as food. Killed in the rice fields and hung up ready for cooking. At the same time, we were assured that there would be no dogs. There used to be the odd canine culinary concoctions but now the dodgy dead dog dinners are illegal. Some of our group were appalled at the idea of eating dogs. Me too. I don’t like the elitist justification for extreme violence towards an innocent animal. However, many of our group eat pork and I struggle to understand how they are content with the cognitive dissonance this evokes. Pigs and dog are equally intelligent happy animals that can be trained and form friendship bonds with humans.

We never spotted any rats but we did see many types of live fish, eels, snails and frogs. The fish were in shallow bowls. Occasionally one would manage to jump out and flop its way down the street before being recaptured. The frogs were enormous and the snails were a good size as well. Is this the French colonial influence at work or will these people just eat anything? There were masses of dead and bloody meat on display as well. I did not look too closely. Just seeing all the flies buzzing around was, I thought, enough to put anyone off. The whole scene, from a distance, was one of bloody massacre, a visceral carnage.

There were of course an awful lot of lovely fresh fruit and vegetables on display. Fresh green pepper corns – if you have never tried, they are amazing. Racks of watermelons. Beautiful bright yellow lemons. Mushrooms of every shape, size and flavour. I also spotted a shop making enormous slabs of tofu. We both enjoy tofu but have never tried making it. Yet another project for a rainy day.

After seeing such so much food it was time to head back for a late breakfast. On the way, we passed some boats with mesh on the side of their hull. This is to deliberately let water in. The ships are used for transporting live fish. They do this by partially flooding the hull.

Eyes to ward off the evil river spirits

First thing in the morning is not the time to be getting diacritical marks wrong. An inappropriate circumflex or grave could cause all sorts of problem. Hội An is a historic city on Vietnam’s central coast known for its UNESCO-listed Ancient Town and glowing evening lanterns. Hòa An is a beautiful mountainous region located in Cao Bằng Province in the northeast of Vietnam. Hoa An in the Mekong Delta is famous for its pretty handicraft villages and authentic countryside life. This last one is where we were.

A short trip on a sampan and then into the waiting xe lôi (motor carts). We were comfortable and familiar with how this works now. Then we were off into the countryside. I often enjoy this sort of trip much more than some of the forced tourist experiences. We were bimbling through the fields where a few people were out working. Enjoying the gentle pace, seeing how ordinary people lived here and taking a few photographs. I was very happy doing this. Some of the crops I could recognise. Many I could not. Occasionally someone would wave at us. Too soon, we were back at the sampan but it had been a good start to the day.

We did not head back to the Princess. Instead, we headed up one of the many small tributaries to see how the rice is processed. There were many little factories here. Each one processing rice in a similar way. Many barges were arriving from the fields with the raw rice and many were leaving with sacks of finished rice.

Raw paddy rice is dried and hulled to remove the outer husk. This gives you brown rice. I like brown rice. It has a nice nutty flavour and bit more bite. It is also rich in fibre, B1, B3, magnesium, iron and healthy fats. Takes a bit longer to cook. As with much of life, I am in a minority. Most of the world prefers polished rice. This turns the nutritious grain into simple carbohydrate. Most of the vitamins, essential minerals and roughage is gone. To combat nutritional deficiencies like beriberi (caused by a lack of vitamin B1), many countries mandate that polished rice is enriched with synthetic vitamins and iron after milling. So why throw away all this vegetable goodness?

People often prefer the softer, fluffy texture of polished rice. Polishing also gets ride of the nutty flavour of the bran and this creates a more neutral and versatile base for many dishes. White rice cooks more quickly. So, it is cheaper to cook. However, possibly the most important reason, especially around here, is that polishing extends the shelf life. Removing the fat-rich bran layer prevents the oils from turning rancid. Like this, the rice can be stored for years without special packaging or refrigeration. The oils in the bran can go rancid in just a few days.

Nothing goes to waste. I don’t think anything ever goes to waste here. The raw rice bran from the polishing process is mostly used for animal feed. They get the benefit of all the nutrients removed from the rice. Some of the bran is used to create rice bran oil – a high-smoke-point cooking oil valued for its heart-healthy properties and ability to lower cholesterol. Once stabilised the bran is sold as a nutritional supplement. Consider the irony of adding bran to your Rice Krispies for a more nutritious breakfast.

The husk does not go to waste either. It is a used as a fuel in specially made stoves. From the factory, it is loaded into adapted barges with massive bamboo and canvas hoppers. They look absurdly overloaded. But the husk is not heavy. We are on a gentle river with no swell. Everything is fine. Mostly fine. There may be trouble with monsters.

To be on the safe side all the boats have eyes. Painted onto the bows close to the waterline to give the vessel a living spirit, guide it through dangerous waters and ward off evil water spirits. A pair of eyes to ward off the evil river spirits. Local communities view a boat not as an object but as a living creature with a soul. Owners perform a special ceremony to “open the eyes” by painting the pupils last. This ritual brings the boat to life so it can sense and navigate its environment. Traditional beliefs hold that rivers contain unpredictable spirits or monsters. The eyes help the boat watch for hazards and stay safe.

With all that sorted and understood we headed back to the Princess. The anchor was pulled up and we set a course for Can Tho City.

Ruminations on religion and model boats in the rain

The MeKong river delta is a messed-up area of alluvial deposits cut through by a myriad of rivers and tributaries. Every bit of land is an island. The rivers are everything. They provide connection, transport and food. Cù Lao Giêng is a lush, peaceful island in the middle of the Tiền River. At about 10 km across the island is famous for its dense mango, jackfruit and pomelo orchards. It also has a big church and boat builders.

We all hopped into the sampan again and left the Mekong Princess at anchor. Over lunch there had been some discussion as to whether our floating palace was a ship or a boat. Usually, the criteria for this is simple. Boats go on ships. So, if your vessel is carrying lifeboats, zodiacs, tenders and the like then it is a ship. The Princess does carry a small workboat on the stern. I suspect its main use is to fetch and carry occasionally. There are no lifeboats or other boats. A second criteria considers seaworthiness. A ship travels offshore and is capable of dealing with a wide range of sea and weather conditions. I think this is the crux of the matter. The Princess is not seaworthy. It is perfectly built for purpose and the conditions it will experience but this only includes rivers. Possibly only the Mekong River. Any serious waves or swell and she would roll around like a drunk teenager. The beautiful French décor would become hopelessly dishevelled. Don’t worry, this will never happen, however, I think this clarifies that the Mekong Princess is a boat rather than a ship.

From the sampan we had a short walk to the two waiting xe lôi. These are small motorbikes with a trailer on the back. Space for 6 passengers. Terrific way to travel along the little roads of the islands of the Mekong Delta. Also known as a motorised cart or motorised rickshaw.

A church and a monastery were built close to each other on the island at about the same time. Late 19^th century. The monastery was built for the French nuns of Saint Paul de Chartres. It was once an important convent and could accommodate more than 1,000 people. This included an orphanage, a school, a hospice and a leprosy centre. Today, there are still a few nuns there but mostly they are in retreat and not talking to anyone.

We arrived in the front yard of the church under an ominously dark and stormy sky. The building is regarded as one of the oldest and most magnificent churches in southern Vietnam. It certainly has some striking Romanesque and Gothic elements. The bell tower, which I completely failed to get a good picture of, is a remarkable 35 m.

Our guide, the wonderfully named Nam (from Vietnam), led us off into the gardens. I think the idea was to visit the cemetery. We had been briefed that it was well kept and picturesque. However, the rain arrived. Proper rain. The sort of rain to soak you to the core in less than 10 seconds. The cemetery was abandoned and we all ran for the church. Inside, we wandered around taking in something of the interior architecture. I am not a big fan of the Catholics, too much to answer for, but they did knock up a few good churches over the years. This one, in particular, is not only a magnificent building but also a remarkable project. Much of the stone and other materials used in its construction was not available locally and was shipped from France.

The priest turned up and invited everyone to take a pew. I have to confess that I did not hear what he said. He was speaking very quietly and I was not dreadfully interested. I was musing on how the Catholics had spent a vast sum of money building the church but the locals roundly rejected the missionary message. They recognised, correctly, that the church was not doing anything help raise them out of poverty or improve their lives in any other way. So, they invented their own form of Buddhism to be cost effective and easily incorporated into their working lives.

The rain had become patchy by the time we were clambering back into the xe lôi. We were each issued with a plastic, disposable rain cloak in case of further deluges. Then we set off to explore the island a little more. We stopped at a shop where Christine, one of our fellow passengers, could buy some new flip-flops. She had broken the strap on the ones she was wearing. Everything was sorted without her having to get off the xe lôi. Nam and the shop keeper ran in and out to find the right size and type for a replacement. A couple of US$ exchanged hands and we were off again.

Final stop of the day was a boat builder. We were arranged on seats under the balcony roof and then shown the skills. Planks were bent by heating them over a charcoal burner. Ribs were hand cut using a type of bow saw. Holes were made using a bow drill. Caulking was done using tree resin. It was all quite interesting but somehow lacked conviction. It felt more like we were being shown how a boat might be built rather than witnessing actual boat building.

At the end of the boat builders garden, past the pomelo trees, was where they launched their boats. This was also a convenient place for our sampan to collect us. I like pomelo. It is not as sharp as grapefruit and has a quite distinctive flavour that reminds me of the sherbet powder I use to eat as a kid. What I really like is pomelo juice and vodka. It makes the most beautifully balanced cocktail and is definitely not for kids. We get pomelo in the UK occasionally but they tend to be quite dry inside and quite tasteless. No good at all for cocktails. I eyed the ripe pomelos and wondered if I could come up with a scheme to get some of them back to the bar tender on the Princess. We were loaded onto the sampan before I got chance to act. As soon as we got back to the river boat, the anchor was pulled up and we set off for Hoa An.

How to create a new religion

In the morning we woke to find ourselves in Vietnam. All the border formalities and inspections completed while we slept. Good morning Vietnam. Same river, different country and everything had changed. Well, the river was similar. Wide, brown, silt laden water. But now it was busy. I mean extremely busy. Ships everywhere. We were on a major highway for barges and floating platforms. Bulk carriers of limestone, chippings, pebbles, gravel and mud were all around us. Big barges discharging into smaller ones. Smaller ones into tiny ones. Cranes lifting stuff between vessels. Dredgers sucking up more sand. The banks were lined with housing and warehouses. Floating homes, somewhere between a houseboat and a cargo boat were all around.

Mid-morning the Mekong Princess dropped anchor near the town of Hong Hgu. We all hopped into a sampan and went off for a look round. A sampan is a traditional, flat-bottomed wooden boat common in Southeast Asia. The word comes from the Cantonese term sāan báan, meaning “three planks,” which describes the simple hull design of a flat bottom joined to two side pieces. The shallow draft and ease of construction makes these small boats ideal for getting around on the river. Larger sampans have an engine and the smaller ones get paddled by someone stood up by the stern.

We went ashore and set off on a short tour of the village. There are only ten of us on a boat made for 30 passengers. I am sure this is a pain, possibly an expensive one, for the owner but it is great for us. For a start, it is quite easy to get to know the rest of the group. I even got to know some names. This is unusual for me; I am embarrassingly terrible at recalling names. It also meant that even a couple of days in we could mostly chat in an easy and relaxed fashion. That was nice.

The tradition here is to bury your parents and other relatives in the front garden. We have seen this ritual before in some south Pacific islands far from here. I find it a slightly odd business. The front gardens here are not especially large. It only takes half a dozen expensive marble tombstones and all the space is taken. Then where will you get buried? I also wondered about moving house. How does having your parents in the front garden affect the resale value of the property? Do you take them with you when you move? Maybe you could do a tomb-swap with owners of the house you are moving into?

The farms generally grow rice and tropical fruit. The typcial arrangement is to have a well-kept presentation garden, with parents, to the road. Then behind the house are the paddy fields for growing rice. Alongside the fields are fruit trees and the occasional cow. The road is sealed but only narrow. Really only suitable for scooters and tuk-tuks. Many families also have fish nets by the side of the river. The nets are everywhere. Simple traps held in place by bamboo poles. There are so many nets that it seems a wonder any fish can every swim more than a couple of hundred metres without being caught.

We wandered down the road and waved at the guys that were eating brunch and toasting us with shots of moonshine. The village is very spread out but at the approximate centre is a general-purpose meeting room. Intricately painted and set amongst some brightly coloured flowers.

Next to this was a small shrine. The majority religion in Vietnam is Buddhism. Our here on the islands of the Mekong Delta, they have their own version of Buddhism designed for farmers. Hòa Hảo is a new religious movement. Typically described either as a syncretistic folk religion or as a sect of Buddhism. Founded in 1939 by Huỳnh Phú Sổ (1920–47), regarded as a saint by his devotees. It is now one of the major religions of Vietnam with several million adherents, mostly in the Mekong Delta. We were shown an altar with pictures of Sổ. Now I would have claimed that there were already far more religions in the world than we need and that creating a new one was just asking for trouble. However, what Sổ did was to make Buddhism more accessible to poor people. Hòa Hảo eschews elaborate rituals and temples, maintains no monastic order and teaches home practice. It also advocates that each devotee can have direct communion with the Buddha. For farmers, this makes the religion enormously more practical to incorporate into their daily lives and work. Be nice to each other and do not spend a fortune, that you can’t afford, on priests, temples and other religious frippery.

The first carpet shop of the day were some weavers. Apparently, there is a long tradition of weaving here although I am not sure why. Most of the required materials need to be brought into the village. Nonetheless, here was an excellent, family run workshop with a wonderful collection of rather ancient looms. Most of them were electric or had been adapted to work that way. One of the looms, takin pride of place at the front, was completely manual. The father fired this up for us and weaved a short length of fabric. They were making cotton goods. Mostly cotton scarves which are commonly used throughout SE Asia. Diane and I were sufficiently impressed that we each bought a scarf. It was nice to see something that was genuinely genuine (and ludicrously cheap).

With that, we all made our way back to the sampan and then back to the ship for lunch.

How to turn a school into torture and killing

The next morning, we were still in Phnom Penh. Everyone got loaded into a coach and taken to a torture centre. The Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum was previously known as Security Prison 21 (S-21) when it was used by the Khmer Rouge regime from 1975 until its fall in 1979. An estimated 20,000 people were imprisoned at Tuol Sleng. It was one of 200 torture and execution centres established by the Khmer Rouge and their secret police.

Before being a torture centre, the buildings were the Tuol Svay Prey High School. Construction began in 1975 to adapt the school. The buildings were enclosed in electrified barbed wire, the classrooms converted into tiny prison and torture chambers. All windows were covered with iron bars and barbed wire to prevent escapes and suicides.

At any one time, the prison held between 1,000 and 1,500 prisoners. They were repeatedly tortured and coerced into naming family members and close associates, who were in turn arrested, tortured and killed. Most prisoners at S-21 were held there for two to three months. The torture system was designed to make prisoners confess to whatever crimes they were charged with. Prisoners were routinely beaten and tortured with electric shocks, searing hot metal instruments and hanging. Some prisoners were cut with knives or suffocated with plastic bags. Other methods for generating confessions included pulling out fingernails while pouring alcohol on the wounds, holding prisoners’ heads under water, and the use of waterboarding. There is unmistakable evidence that prisoners were sliced open and had organs removed with no anaesthetic.

Out of an estimated 20,000 people imprisoned at Tuol Sleng, there were only twelve known survivors: seven adults and five children. Today just one, Chum Mey, still lives. We were privileged to meet him. Formerly a motor mechanic, his life was only spared because of his ability to repair sewing machines. He was sat outside one of the buildings quietly talking to a few people and signing copies of his book.

For the first year of S-21’s existence, corpses were buried near the prison. However, by the end of 1976, cadres ran out of burial spaces. Execution centres, the killing fields, were set up outside of Phnom Penh. Here a gang of teenagers killed the prisoners. Typically, because of the scarcity and cost of ammunition, they were battered to death with iron bars, pickaxes, machetes and other makeshift weapons. After the prisoners were executed, the soldiers who had accompanied them from S-21 buried them in mass graves that each held up to 100 bodies.

We were taken to Choeung Ek, a site in Dangkao on the outskirts of Phnom Penh. A former orchard, this is one the 300 killing fields that have been discovered in Cambodia. 9,000 bodies have been exhumed from this site alone. At first glance, the site appears to be some uneven grassland with a few trees and a monument.

On closer inspection, there are some signs and walkways to guide you around the depressions that are the remains of mass burial sites. When executing the children of parents accused of crimes, the Khmer Rouge used a chankiri tree to smash their heads against whilst holding them by their legs. The tree is called the ‘Killing Tree’ and is adorned by hundreds of colourful bracelets. Women were also sometimes subject to rape before being killed. Over 300 people were executed each day some days.

In 1989, a Buddhist stupa was constructed as a memorial to the site. The Choeung Ek stupa contains a tall rectangular glass display containing over 5,000 skulls of people murdered at Choeung Ek. In Khmer Buddhism, death by violent acts are unfavourably viewed as tradition states that the spirit of the dead will continue to linger around the site of their death, preventing reincarnation. As such, many Cambodians refuse to visit the stupa. The stupa contains the remains of crania, mandibles, long bones, and other smaller bones who were initially housed in a wooden memorial.

In 2025, the Choeung Ek site and S-21 were designated as a World Heritage Sites by UNESCO as part of the Cambodian Memorial Sites.

That evening, I think it is fair to say, that everyone was shaken and disturbed by what we had seen. Certainly, my head was awash with questions, mostly beginning with “why”. The depths of depravity that organised groups of people can reach is astounding. History repeats itself through multiple genocides and acts of enormous brutality and cruelty. Ordinary people get draw into performing acts of such wickedness that can only be described as evil. Wikipedia lists over 150 genocides since the 12^th century. Of which four are ongoing. Entire nations and ethnic groups are being systematically hunted down and eradicated. Now. Right now, as you read this.

Fortunately, there were dancing girls on hand to cheer us up. A local orphanage that is sponsored by the river cruise boat company, brought a dance troupe on board in the evening. Three immaculately dressed up girls began with the Apsara dance. This is Cambodia’s iconic classical royal dance, inspired by 9th-century celestial nymph stone carvings at Angkor Wat. It features slow, flowing hand gestures (mudras), arched postures, and gold-threaded traditional attire sewn directly onto the performers. Absolutely entrancing to watch.

The band, consisted of drums, cymbals, vocals and a type of xylophone known as a Roneat Aek. They all sat in one corner while the dancers performed directly in front of us on deck. Some male dancers arrived and then, a little later, some younger performers, dressed as monkeys, joined in. The principal and dance instructor of the orphanage gave us a little talk about their work. Everyone was quite happy to chip in a small donation.

Finally, our small group was invited to join in the dancing. Obviously, the invitation did not include me and anyhow I was needed to take photographs. The evening concluded with another excellent dinner and then, at 2am, we cast off, destined for the border with Vietnam.

Sinking ships, diamonds, Buddhas and a silver floor

Phnom Penh is the capital of Cambodia. Originally settled in the 5^th century, the city functioned briefly as capital after the fall of Angkor Thom in the 15^th century. It regained its capital status during the French colonial era in 1865. The city’s population swelled in the 1960s and 1970s as refugees fled from civil war and American bombing during the Vietnam War. Phnom Penh’s entire population was forcibly evacuated in 1975 by the Khmer Rouge. The people faced persecution, forced labour and genocide. Phnom Penh remained largely uninhabited during the Democratic Kampuchea era until Vietnam-backed forces took the city in 1979. The city was reconstructed and infrastructure improved in the modern era with the support of international investment and aid. By 2009, it was home to more than 2 million people, approximately 14% of the Cambodian population.

The short trip down the river had been quite interesting. People were living all along the riverbank. Usually in buildings on stilts. There were a few cargo barges. Some of these were so heavily laden that they looked to be sinking.

We tied up near another river cruise boat on a pier with an enormous patch of water hyacinth. We had seen quite a lot of this floating along in little rafts on the river. One of the fastest-growing plants known, water hyacinth reproduces primarily by way of runners or stolons, which eventually form daughter plants. Each plant additionally can produce thousands of seeds each year, and these seeds can remain viable for more than 28 years. Common water hyacinths are vigorous growers, and mats can double in size in one to two weeks. In terms of plant count rather than size, they are said to multiply by more than a hundredfold in number in a matter of 23 days. Water hyacinth originates in South America but it has proven to be a very effective invasive species. It is now widely established in North America, Europe, Asia, Australia, Africa, and New Zealand. It has become an important and pernicious invasive species across wide areas although in many cases it was originally introduced with good intentions.

We went off on a tour to see the Royale Palace and the Silver Pagoda. To get there, we travelled by cyclo – a traditional pedal-powered rickshaw used today mostly for slow-paced tourist sightseeing. This was fun although we were rubbing knees with the scooters and cars all running around with very little consideration of the rules of the road. I felt a bit sorry for my guy. He clearly got the short straw by having a propel a larger person like me. Pedalling Diane would have been only half as much work. He seemed cheerful enough fortunately.

The Royal Palace is a complex of several elaborate buildings. They are used as the royal residence and also for many official functions. The buildings are lovely. Lots of bright colours. Little statues. Well-kept gardens. We were not allowed in many of the buildings. We could look inside the Throne Hall from outside. This is where the king’s confidants, generals and royal officials once carried out their duties. It is still in use today as a place for religious and royal ceremonies (such as coronations and royal weddings) as well as a meeting place for guests of the King. We were not allowed to take any photographs.

I was also banned from taking photographs in the Silver Pagoda. This houses many national treasures such as gold and jewelled Buddha statues. Notable was a small crystal Buddha – the “Emerald Buddha” of Cambodia. Also, a near-life-size, Maitreya Buddha encrusted with 9,584 diamonds and dressed in royal regalia. The Silver Pagoda is inlaid with more than 5,000 silver tiles. We could inspect some of these. They were in a terrible state. It seemed to me that silver, a soft and very reactive metal, is completely unsuitable for floor tiles.

We hopped back onto the cyclos and headed for the National Museum. I may have mentioned before that Diane and I are not big museum people. It had already been a long hot day and this was starting to get to both of us. I tried, hard, to summon some enthusiasm but mostly failed. There were a few interesting exhibits but it was all a bit dry subject wise and very hot temperature wise. We ended up standing outside, close to the entrance, where there was a large cooling fan.

Eventually we where whisked back to our ship on the cyclos. Here we could cool down, have a shower and get ready for dinner. The food on the ship was excellent and I found myself really enjoying the evenings.

A blessing, some dyeing, more teaching and an illegal bird

From Siem Reap it was a five-hour drive to where we joined our ship. The drive was not too bad. The coach was comfortable with just three seats to a row. We had a couple of stops on the way where we could visit “Happy rooms”. Our guide talked for a while but there is only so much you can say about rice fields. Eventually, we arrived in Kampong Cham where we were introduced to the Mekong Princess. This is a custom built luxury river boat. Two passenger decks. A bar. A restaurant and cabins for 30 people. At the mandatory safety briefing in the bar, we discovered that there were only 10 of us for this trip. The ship is run by Eric. He is French and has been doing this job for a decade or so. Friendly and informative. Once everything safety related had been explained the ship set sail and we all went for lunch.

We had been given a free upgrade. Presumably because there were so few people on board. So, we had a lovely room near the front of the ship. It was decked out like a luxury French chateau. We are quite used to living in cabins but this was hugely different to a sea-going ship. Much more like a floating hotel room. At sea, you need to protect from the movement of the ship. Not on a river boat. Here nothing was fastened down. There were pot plants on shelves and free-standing bottles on a desk. Things that would not last two minutes at sea. It was all very comfortable so we got settled in and enjoyed watching the countryside slide past.

By 5pm, we had arrived at Angkor Ban, our first stop. We were tied up by some sort of temple. There was not much to see and I don’t think we even had an option to go ashore. We were given a talk about what to expect the following day after which came diner and then bed. We were going to be up at 6am.

6am was the theme for the week. Up at 6am and out by 8am. It makes sense when the weather is so hot. Next day we started off with a blessing. A water blessing from a Buddhist monk in the temple that we were moored next to. It was quite fun although none of us had a clue about what was said and chanted. We each had water flicked on us. I made sure to keep my mouth shut. Then the monk tied a red plaited woollen string tied around the wrist of those that wanted it.

Suitably blessed we went off for a guided tour of the village. Naturally this brought us to the first carpet shop. Remember the carpet shop principle? We discovered in Morrocco that if you ever got shown anywhere you would always end up in a carpet shop drinking mint tea. Elsewhere, it might not be carpets. It might be jewellery, souvenirs, hats, whatever. It will however be made for tourists and presented to you as authentic if a little overpriced. In the village of Angkor Ban the carpet shops sold clothing. Lightweight cotton shirts, trousers and scarves. Many houses had rolled out a small rack containing their goods. The material was woven and dyed in the village. I think it was mostly cotton, which I assume came in from elsewhere. I did not see any bales of raw cotton, just large loops of yarn. We were shown a small group of people busy dying the yarn. There were also some looms set up for weaving.

We arrived at a school. Education is a bit of a haphazard affair in Cambodia. Especially out in the country away from the cities. Here we were introduced to the teacher who set up and ran the school. We also met the twenty or so students. Everything seemed to operate on a voluntary basis. The teacher was not paid very much. The students could not afford to pay much. Conditions were a bit rudimentary but they were giving it a go. Despite the general level of poverty, it appeared to be well understood that the solution to many of their problems was to educate the children. The kids were all very friendly and very keen to practise their English. Each tourist was allocated two or three children and everyone settled down in the classroom to work on their English.

I am really not particularly good at this sort of thing. Far too self-conscious around small children and haven’t a clue where to start when it comes to teaching. I took it on myself to make a photographic record of the lesson for the benefit of the other. Then I went off and found a hummingbird to photograph. This turned out to be an olive-backed sunbird.

An hour or so later, we were all waving goodbye to the school and we continued our tour of the village. There was a covered area used as a market. Here the fresh fruit, vegetables and other produce for the day was on display. Across the road was a petrol station. Most people here either walk or cycle. Motorised transport is predominantly in the form of scooters. One per family. You rarely see more than the parents and three children on a single scooter. The petrol station was set up to just service scooters. Petrol came in re-purposed one litre glass bottles displayed on a rack and kept out of the sunshine.

Running around the houses were several types of duck and goose. I also spotted some caged birds. There was a Myna bird. Commonly kept as pets because of their ability to mimic an extraordinarily wide range of sounds. There was also some sort of hawk which seemed thoroughly unhappy in a cage that was far too small. Keeping this sort of bird is illegal in most countries. Google tells me: It is generally illegal to keep a caged hawk in Vietnam. Nearly all native birds of prey, including hawks, eagles, and falcons, are protected under Vietnamese wildlife conservation laws and international CITES agreements. Keeping them without specialized government permits—which are virtually never granted to private pet owners—violates national regulations and risks severe fines or criminal penalties.

We were all back on board by lunchtime when we set sail for Phnom Penh.

Many steps, many temples, a dinosaur and danger from monkeys

A little over a thousand years ago the Khmer Empire straddled what is now Cambodia, Thailand, Myanmar, Laos and a big lump of China. The site of Angkor Thom is the empire’s most notable legacy. There was an immense city here that included such majestic temples as Angkor Wat. The city was a product of immense wealth, the seat of great power and a centre for art, architecture and other aesthetic achievements. Up to a million people lived here – one of the most populous cities of the medieval world. Satellite imaging has revealed that Angkor Thom‘s elaborate water management network was the most extensive pre-industrial urban complex in the world.

It all started to go wrong in the 14^th century. Probably a combination of events that included the usual social and political upheavals of a myriad of waring factions. An ecological failure caused by a series of droughts and floods driven by erratic monsoons which led to an infrastructure breakdown. Even a plague has been suggested. The dominant religion changed from Hinduism to Buddhism. The jungle moved in and as is the way of great empires, it all fell apart and mostly disappeared.

Today, Angkor Wat and some other temples remain. Still the largest religious complex in the world and still an active Buddhist temple. It was made a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1992 and became one of the world’s great tourist attractions. In 1993, there were 7,650 visitors. By 2018 this had risen to 2.6 million. We thought we had better go and have a look.

It was hot. It is always hot in Cambodia. It was also sunny. That was a change from the previous couple of days. It was a long day. We did a lot of walking. visited a lot of temples. I can only remember the names of some of them. We had a local guide. He made things a lot easier. Not just showing us around but also explaining stuff as we went. I am sure we would not have seen half as much without him.

We started off with the big one. Angkor Wat. There were a lot of people there. A lot of cameras. A lot of selfies. A lot of that very Asian thing where she stands there making odd hand gestures and he takes lots of photographs. To take photographs of the temple without many people in the way was quite difficult.

We discovered that there is a lot of detail in the temple. Just about every surface is covered in carvings. Some decorative, some of religious significance and many depicting epic stories and histories. Our guide described some of the more interesting points but we had to skip over the vast majority of what we saw.

Much of the temple is very run down. Some of the entry ticket price is used for restoration. More work is done by teams sponsored by different countries. China is spending a lot of money on the place. Even with all of this, the scale of the work is daunting. There is also the inevitable tension between preservation and renovation. Do you simply stop things getting worse or do you try and rebuild some of the former glory?

At the very centre of Angkor Wat is a structure several floors high. You can climb up here via some extraordinarily steep steps. The view is terrific and we could catch a bit of a breeze. This was very welcome as the climb up had made me sufficiently hot as to feel quite uncomfortable. Diane flaked out with the heat when we were in Papua New Guinea, so I was keeping a close eye on her.

The next temple was Ta Prohm. Also known as the “Tomb Raider Temple”. Angelina Jolie was here, albeit briefly, filming some of the iconic scenes in “Lara Croft: Tomb Raider” (2001). The temple was built without mortar. Since it was abandoned, many trees have taken root and are now in the process of systematically demolishing the temple. Looks fantastic. The combination of tree roots and ancient masonry is remarkably picturesque and evocative. The problem now, is that if left alone, the trees will dismantle every last wall. Nobody advocates killing the trees so the renovation plan needs to be exceptionally long term. New trees are plucked from the walls when they are barely formed saplings. The existing trees will die eventually. When each one finally gives up the ghost, it will be removed and the walls reinstated. The trees can last hundreds of years. Only a small part of the lifetime of the temple but still long enough that some patience will be required.

We walked on and passed a temple that was being rebuilt. Like many of the structures here it looked less like a temple and more like a pile of stones. Some clever people have been using modern technology to help put it back together. First of all, each stone is assigned a number. Then they are all scanned using a 3D scanner. A Lidar or similar is used so the stones do not need to be moved. Finally, a computer builds a 3D model of how the temple may have looked. It uses the positions and shapes of the stones. It considers the architecture of adjoining and contempory buildings. All clever stuff. The final output is a complete plan showing where each stone needs to go and which stones are missing or broken.

Our guide pointed out a small carving that looked like a dinosaur. Nobody knew about dinosaurs back in the 12th century. Fossils had not been identified or even known about. So how come a picture of a stegosaurus? Proof of aliens, I expect.

Our last temple was the Bayon Temple. At one time this must have been magnificent. Multiple towers each carved with faces looking in the cardinal directions. Sadly, all looking a bit battered now. There were also many wall carvings and a rather nice Buddha statue. Our guide thought this was probably only a couple of hundred years old. Inside the temple was a bit of a labyrinth. I was not really sure of the purpose of so many small tunnels. But we did find a corner with some bats in.

The South Gate to the ancient walled city of Angkor Thom is known locally as Tonle Om. It is the best-preserved and most famous entrance located to the north of Angkor Wat. So, I have no idea why it is called the South Gate. It is 23 m high and features more massive stone faces along with a bridge lined by gods and demon. The figures on the bridge hold a giant serpent, a naga, to depict the Hindu creation myth of churning the cosmic ocean. We paused here briefly for some photographs while dodging traffic. The road goes straight through the middle of the gate.

That was the end of a long, sweltering day. Really fascinating and wonderful way to get all your steps in. Next day we were to set off on a river cruise.

Trying new herbs and playing with rats in Siem Reap

We flew into Siem Reap a day earlier than planned. Our original flight was cancelled so we had a day less in Kuala Lumpur and an extra day in Cambodia. I did not mind. KL was not my favourite and instead we got to eat great food and we got to play with rats.

First big impression of Siem Reap was the rain. Big rain. We are here in the middle of the rainy season and it can seriously rain. Not all the time, but occasionally it is just like a warm shower. I don’t mean a gentle shower of rain, I mean standing unde r the shower in your bathroom. It is way too warm for wearing jackets, so you just get wet. Not really much of a problem. With the heat, you will soon dry off again. I tend to keep a waterproof bag handy that I can tuck my camera into.

In the morning, we went off on a food tasting tour. Us, a gay couple and Jared our guide. This turned out to be brilliant way to spend a few hours. The lads were Americans currently living in Japan. Jared also had his origins in the US but went native many years ago and lives in Cambodia now.

We started off with a tuk-tuk ride to the market. Here, we disappeared into a warren of small streets and passages lined with market stalls. The sheer variety of food up for sale was remarkable. All the basic fruit and vegetables were there. Plus, tropical varieties like jack fruit, durian, dragon fruit and rambutan. Citrus fruits were represented by little, intense limes and pomelos. Lot of fresh herbs. A type of broad lead coriander, parsley and many that I could not recognise. Mushrooms were there in abundance. Many different types. Big fat ones, long thin ones, oyster mushrooms and some that were new to me. The only obvious fungal omission were boring field mushrooms which are often the only type of flowering mycelium you can get in the UK.

There was a lot of fresh meat that I tried not to get too close to. The flies alone should have been enough to put you off. Fish was in abundance. Much of it so fresh that it was still flapping or wriggling. Crabs were firmly tied up. Eels were confined to a bucket. Snails were in a big aluminium tray. Other fish was laid out on ice and yet more dried and cut into weird shapes. The insects were dead. Dead and dried. Crunchy crickets and all your favourite entomological treats. Another stall was sack after sack of dried plant parts. Mushrooms, leaves, flowers, bark and other parts. These were medicines. Generally used to make a herbal tea guaranteed to cure your ailments.

Tucked in between the racks of ingredients, were people cooking up food. Little cakes, noodles and snacks of every possibly variety. We found ourselves jammed into a dark corner where we were served rich, slightly sweet coffee and a dish of wheat noodles with fried rice cakes.

Two meals later, we headed out into the countryside. Our destination was a village famed for making rice noodles. Here an elderly pair of sisters make noodles every day. They start at 3 am every morning. Rice noodles are made from rice, obviously and hard work. Maybe a little salt. The rice is crushed, soaked, fermented, boiled, crushed some more, kneaded and finally extruded through a die into boiling water. The result, a thin, light noodle, is delicious. We tried our hand at some of the processes. Everything done by hand using simple tools of wood and stone. Everything heated and cooked over a wood fire. Finally, we tried some freshly made noodles and then went off to another village where they use the noodles to make lunch.

Fresh is an important thing in Cambodia. Many people do not have fridges. Many people do not even have electricity. Fresh food is the normal. Market first thing in the morning for fresh ingredients and then everything is cooked and served fresh.

We stopped off at a little cake factory. Here a group of women were making steamed buns out of palm fruit. They had a small production line going that began with extracting the pulp from the fruit. The pulp was mixed with flour and the dough poured into little cups made of leaves. Banana leaves maybe. These then went into wood fired steam ovens. A squirt of condensed milk went into the centre of each cooked bun and they were finally packed into small boxes, also made of leaves.

Our final meal of the trip sort of brought together much of what we had seen and learnt. Rice noodles, many types of vegetables and herbs and fish for the others. All washed down with some local beer. I felt like I had eaten several days’ worth of food and it was only lunchtime. Great experience and thoroughly recommended. The company is called Siem Reap Food Tours. They also gave us a list of good restaurants in Siem Reap which proved to be worth its weight in gold.

After a short nap back at the hotel, we were ready to go and see the rats. Cambodia is one of the most mine-affected countries in the world. Hundreds of thousands of landmines and other explosives still litter the countryside, presenting a major humanitarian and socioeconomic challenge. With over 40,000 amputees Cambodia has the highest ratio of mine amputees per capita in the world. The Apopo organisation, based in Siem Reap, trains rats, dogs and people with the skills to clear landmines. The rats are light enough not set off an anti-personnel mine. They are trained to use their sense of smell to find the explosives. We watched a demonstration by Amanda the rat of how to find mines. She was really quite brilliant at her job. We felt quite privileged to be about to hold her later. These are Tanzanian long-tailed pouch rats. They go through a long training program and are looked after incredibly well. I found it quite wonderful for humans and animals to be working together like this.

Towering skyscrapers and crowded caves in Kuala Lumpur

Kuala Lumpur is the capital of Malaysia. It is big and bustling. Two million people in one hot, sweaty concrete jungle of a city. I visited KL once before on business and did not like it much then. It is hard to like anywhere in the tropics when you must wear a business suit. My impressions this time remained similar. It is always hot, typically over 30°C and usually humid. There is an awful lot of reinforced concrete and glass. The airport is an hour’s drive from the city centre but only if you are lucky. Took us over twice that in the mid-afternoon traffic jam. We had had time for a short stroll around as night fell. A restaurant selling freshly made pasta right next to our hotel made a pleasant end to the day.

Kuala Lumpur is the sixth most visited city in the world, with 8.9 million tourists per year. It hosts many cultural and sporting events. It is also one of the world’s major centres of MICE tourism. Meetings, Incentives, Conferences, and Exhibitions tourism refers to a specific type of business tourism in which organized groups are convened for professional, commercial, or networking purposes. The MICE sector is a fundamental component of the “events industry” and includes a wide range of activities such as conferences, congresses, conventions, forums, summits, exhibitions and trade shows, seminars, symposiums, workshops, product launches, board meetings and shareholder meetings, executive retreats and incentive programs, recognition events, celebrations of corporate or organizational milestones, and team-building initiatives. The city houses three of the world’s ten largest shopping malls. In short, it is a place I would rather avoid; however, we wanted to take a break between flights.

In the morning, we took a half day tour to visit a few places. First up was the Batu Caves. The cave complex contains many Hindu temples, the most popular of which is a shrine dedicated to Murugan. There is a ludicrously big statue of him by the steps up to the cave temple. We clambered up the brightly coloured steps and were genuinely impressed by the temple inside.

It was very busy though. I think it is always busy here. We arrived back at the bottom of the steps as just the same time as the rain. It can really rain here. Kuala Lumpur commonly floods because the drainage development has not kept up with the rest of the city development. We got soaked. We didn’t get cold. There was no drop in temperature at all. Not long after the rain stopped, we were dry again.

Next came the Thean Hou Temple. One of the largest Buddhist temples in Asia. Built by the Chinese 40 years ago and dedicated to the Chinese sea goddess, Mazu. It is rather magnificent and very colourful. Dragons everywhere.

We got taken to the China Town area. There is an enormous outdoor market here which appears to specialise in a wide range of foods and an even wider range of counterfeit goods. Bags, perfumes, watches and all the other stuff found in the upmarket malls close to here – but at a fraction of the price. It was interesting to look around. But only for a short while.

The final stop of our tour was the landmark Petronas Towers. These two towers dominate the skyline at 450 m. From 1998 to 2004, they were to the tallest buildings in the world. Since then, a succession of taller buildings has sprung up. The Burg Khalifi is almost twice as tall. We grabbed a photo and then wandered off to find dinner. On the way, we found an impressive collection of supercars parked outside a mall. While waiting for Diane, I looked at the Gucci shop. One shop, about twenty handbags and no price tags. It is a strange way to do business. Gucci bags can easily cost up to £4,000 and then it still will not be lightweight, waterproof, easy to clean or secure. We enjoyed a lovely Indian meal and then retired to the hotel to prepare ourselves for leaving in the morning.

How to say “Do not eat your grandparents” in 840 different languages

Papua New Guinea is the most linguistically diverse country in the world. At least 840 languages are spoken. I cannot even begin to imagine how this works. English is the language of commerce and the education system. The primary lingua franca of the country is Tok Pisin (Pidgin). PNG is also a megadiverse country. This is a technical expression. There are just 17 megadiverse countries worldwide and they house most of Earth’s species. Approximately 5% of known living species are in PNG. Approximately a third of these are endemic, not found anywhere else. It is a place of volcanoes and jungles. Barely explored rainforests hiding a myriad of tribes. Each tribe has its own customs, traditions and behaviours. Possibly its own language. Cannibalism was practiced here until recently. Very recently. Perhaps as recently as 2012. There is still an issue with Kuru, a rare, incurable, and fatal neurodegenerative disorder. Deceased family members were traditionally cooked and eaten, which was thought to help free the spirit of the dead. Kuru, a spongiform encephalopathy, is transmitted through infectious prions. These are particularly concentrated in the brain which was traditionally eaten by women and children.

All this verdant jungle requires a lot of rain, most of which was happening on the day we arrived. It was seriously throwing it down. Getting off the ship and into a small minibus was more than enough to get soaked. We were docked alongside in the town of Alotau, the capital of Milne Bay Province, in the far south-east of PNG. 14 minibuses arrived to collect pretty much every guest and take them on a tour. Stepping off the ship was like stepping into a shower. Warm and extremely wet.

First stop was the town market. This was surprisingly interesting. A wide range of fruit and vegetables were on sale. I could recognise most of them but not all. Peanuts, groundnuts, still on their roots. Yams, potatoes, spinach like greens, bananas and tobacco. The tobacco leaves were dried and then plaited into ropes. Various craftwork was on display including many brightly coloured bags, carvings and clothing.

Next stop was the cultural presentation. Fortunately, they had a large, covered area for this. The rain was keeping the temperature and the mosquitoes down. We were given a coconut to drink from. It was all quite comfortable. It was all quite dark as well. Between the grey, sullen sky and the open sided building, there was not much light for taking photographs. We watched some dancers. We watched a demonstration of cooking. As far as I could tell, a woman peeled a potato and put it in a pot. Everybody applauded, nonetheless. There was another demonstration of how to prepare a coconut. I was quite impressed by the demonstration of making fire. Doing this with just two sticks and some coconut husk on such a damp day was no mean feat. There was some more dancing and we were done.

Outside were a few stalls selling local craftwork. There was also a fruit from a palm oil tree just lying on the ground. Palm oil is an edible vegetable oil derived from the reddish pulp of the fruit. Although native to West Africa, it grows very well in PNG. Palm oil is the most efficient oil crop to produce, yielding 6–10 times more oil per hectare than alternatives like soybean or sunflower. Most of the world’s palm oil comes from Indonesia but it is gaining traction in PNG.

A stop at a local viewpoint was cancelled because of the lack of a view. We did stop at the war memorial. The battle of Milne Bay is commemorated. This was the first serious Japanese defeat in the Pacific part of WW2. Back at the ship there was a terrible queue to get back on board. I wandered off and found some Pacific Swallows sitting on a gutter. Then it started raining again. I photographed some rain and then went back on board.

That was it for Papau New Guinea. I think this is probably a truly fascinating place. Hot, uncomfortable and full of malaria, but still interesting. Sadly, our trip moves on so one soggy day is our lot.

Iridescent blue holes, a sunken ship and yet more fish

Espiritu Santoe is the largest island in Vanuatu. It supports a population of 37,000. The only real town is Luganville, which is where we docked in the morning. During World War II, after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour, the island was used by American naval and air forces. It became a large military supply and support base for a few years. The SS President Coolidge was a converted luxury liner carrying 5,000 troops. It hit a sea mine coming into the harbour area because nobody thought to mention that two of the three entry channels had been mined. The skipper ran the ship aground to avoid capsize or sinking and all but two hands were saved. The shipwreck is now a popular diving spot. Further up the coast is a place where the Americans dumped most of their used military and naval equipment. This is now also a scuba diving site known as Million Dollar Point. In highly fictionalised form, this island is the location of the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, South Pacific.

Vanuatu has more freshwater blue waterholes than any other place in the world. Found hidden amongst the lush emerald rainforest, these iridescent blue holes are a direct result of Vanuatu’s unique geology. When it rains, water from the islands’ volcanic mountains flows underground into limestone caves, which corrodes the limestone and creates underground streams. Eventually, these streams resurface as freshwater springs, or what we know as the blue holes. The waters in these blue holes are incredibly clear, creating a dazzling luminescent effect that seems almost too perfect to be natural. That is what the guidebook says. We joined a group to go have a look at one.

A twenty-minute drive in a tiny minibus brought us to a bridge over a river. Here we got into canoes. Four people to a canoe with a man to paddle at the back. We did not have to do anything. Just sit there. The trip took about ten minutes. I quite enjoyed it. Floating along on clear, fresh water through dense, rich jungle. I didn’t see any birds or animals although we could hear birds. We arrived at the blue hole. A platform had been built around one side and this is where we got out. The water here is great for swimming. It is clear, clean spring water. Cool but not cold. Diane and I had brought our snorkelling gear but I think Diane was put off by the temperature of the water. I thought it was perfect and jumped straight in.

We had spotted a couple of small fish as we had come up the river. However, I was quite surprised at how much fish life there was when I started to look. Once I got away from the platform, where everyone was swimming and splashing around, there were a lot of fish. Big ones, small ones and flat ones. Underneath the overhangs and where trees were dipping into the water. Deeper down, I came across a whole big shoal of fish. No idea what any of them are. Google appears to struggle with these. It comes up with answers that do not seem confident. There are fish experts on the ship but they are hard to find during the day. Most of the fish can live in freshwater and seawater. I had a good half hour swimming around. We were all called out of the water. A short walk brought us back to the microbuses.

It was only lunchtime when we arrived at the ship. Still a few hours before we sailed. So, we got together with Philip and Susan and went to hire a taxi. We had no idea where we could go or what it would cost. A gang of taxi drivers converged on us. They were all waving sheets with pictures of potential destinations and they were all talking, loudly, at the same time. Many of the destinations were impractically far away but we eventually came up with an idea. After much discussion, we settled on a destination and a driver and a price that was less than the replacement value of a new car.

First stop was a petrol station where our driver bought fuel for the trip. We were only going a few kilometres so he only filled up with a couple of litres. On the map we had chosen a roughly circular trip with a short excursion along a spit of land. What we discovered was not a road but a very rough track. The driver very slowly and carefully made his way around all the potholes. The noise was terrible. He explained that a hubcap was loose. The reality was that the vehicle’s suspension was completely shot. We made it to the spit of land. It was private property and we could not go far. We stopped to look at some beach and I took photographs of a lad fishing. He had a weighted net which he would throw into the water and then gather back in. Back in the taxi we arrived at a large pothole full of water. Our driver did not want to tackle this. We turned round and headed back.

That was it for Vanuatu. Now we had three sea days as we headed for Papua New Guinea.

How to conquer fear and prove your manhood

While we were having lunch, the Seabourne Pursuit repositioned a short distance. We dropped anchor just off the Vanuatu island of Pentecost. A short zodiac ride brought us to the grey, volcanic beach. We were welcomed warmly and then got to sit around for a while until everyone had arrived. We were all here to watch the Land Diving (Nanggol). Boys and men jumping off wooden towers up to 30 m high. They have two tree vines wrapped around their ankles. These are just the right length so that, if all goes correctly, the jumper just grazes the ground with their shoulder.

A tight rope walker appeared. He was rather good. A vine had been set up a few metres above everyone’s heads. He walked along the rope. Walked backwards, turned around and balanced on one foot. That part of the entertainment concluded, we were herded up a fairly steep grassy slope. Benches had been set up around the base of the tower. I spotted a shady area a little further up the slope which looked ideal for taking a few photographs while staying out of the sun. As I made my way up there, I was stopped by one of the expedition team. “Are you part of the Image Masters group?”. No, I wasn’t. Image Masters is an optional Seabourn program. If you sign up, the ship’s photographer will spend time with you to help improve your skills. This had initially piqued my interest until I spotted the eye-watering cost. Anyhow, the shady spot under the tree was apparently reserved for these acolytes. Now, I am fairly sure Seabourn paid handsomely for us to attend the land diving. However, they did not actually purchase the hill and this was a public event. I explained this to the team member in terms that were much more polite than I was feeling. In the interests of keeping the peace, I did not go any further. Later, I noticed many people choosing to ignore the Seabourn rules. I also discovered that it was not the ideal position because of the way the cloud and sun were working and I went elsewhere.

The dancing, drumming and chanting started. A large group of people on the hill to the side of the tower. Rhythmically stepping from side to side. Many of the men had sticks like spears or javelins. The women held colourful bunches of variegated leaves. The divers were all up here and part of the dance. So were quite a few other people and the women. The sound of the drums and the chants rang out clearly across the hillside.

The origin story for Nanggol begins with a woman. She disliked her husband’s behaviour and ran off into the forest to hide. A vagueness surrounds the source of her dissatisfaction; however, she was definitely fed up of him. Her husband followed so she climbed a tall banyan tree. He climbed after her. She tied vines around her ankles and jumped back down. Her husband jumped after her but did not tie lianas to himself. Because of this oversight, he plummeted to his death. In respect for the escaping wife, the women of the tribe created the sport of land diving. The husbands, however, were not comfortable with seeing their wives in such positions, so they took the sport for themselves. Later, specifically designed wooden towers replaced the tree. The men continue to perform land diving so that they would not be tricked again

The nanggol ritual is associated with the yam harvest. It is performed annually in April or May. A good dive helps ensure a bountiful yam harvest. It is believed that land diving can enhance the health and strength of the divers. A successful dive can remove any illnesses and physical problems associated with the wet season. Also, land diving is considered a sign of masculinity It demonstrates the boldness of the warrior. Men who do not choose to dive or back out of diving are humiliated as cowards.

The time of yam harvest is significant because tower construction is best done during the dry season. The lianas have the best elasticity during this time. In 1974, Queen Elizabeth II came to see the spectacle of nanggol in the middle of the wet season. The villagers were persuaded to jump anyhow but the vines were not elastic enough. One diver snapped both lianas, hit the ground hard and broke his back. He later died in hospital

During the period of preparation for nanggol, the men seclude themselves from the women and refrain from sex. Women are not allowed to go near the tower. The spirit of the original woman who dived off the banyan tree still lives in the tower. She may seek vengeance, leading to the death of a diver. The men often prepare for their possible death. They will conclude any unsettled business or disputes. The night before the jump, they sleep beneath the tower to ward off evil spirits. The men must not wear any lucky charms during the dive.

The ritual begins with the least experienced jumpers on the lower platforms and ends with the most experienced jumpers on the upper platforms. This means that the first person to jump, before a large and expectant crowd, is a young boy. For boys, land diving is a rite of passage. After circumcision at about 7 years old, they can participate in the ritual. When a boy is ready to become a man, he performs nanggol in the presence of his elders.

The first lad to jump was obviously very nervous. He did well. After a couple of shy hand waves at the crowd, he hopped off the platform and landed nicely. This got him a round of applause. The next lad was equally nervous and had to jump from a higher platform. Each time somebody jumps, the platform on which they were standing collapses to help break the fall. So, each successive jump is higher than the last. Then came a lad who could not do it. He looked completely terrified. I felt sorry for him. It reminded me of at least one occasion when I was very young and very scared. After a long pause he climbed back down. I hope he was not treated too badly.

The construction of the tower takes several weeks. Up to thirty men help build it. They cut trees to construct the body, clear a site for the tower, and remove rocks from the soil. Several platforms stick out 2 m from the front of the tower, supported by several struts. During the jump, the platform supports snap, causing the platform to hinge downward and absorb some of the force from falling. Vines are selected by a village elder and matched with each diver’s weight. The vines need to be supple, elastic, and full of sap in order to be safe. The ends of the vines are shredded to allow the fibres to be looped around the ankles of the jumpers. If the vine is too long, the diver will hit the ground hard. If the vine is too short, the diver might collide with the tower.

Before dawn on the day of the ceremony, the men undergo a ritual wash. They anoint themselves with coconut oil and decorate their bodies. Men wear nambas. A traditional Vanuatu penis sheath. We had already encountered the chiefs wearing nambas in the morning. The two tribes on Malakula (2^nd largest island in Vanuatu) are called the Big Nambas and the Small Nambas. They are named for the size of their nambas. Women wear traditional grass skirts and go bare-breasted. Only the men are allowed to dive, but the dancing women provide mental support.

In the mid-nineteenth century, missionaries came to Vanuatu and persuaded the natives to stop land diving. Being missionaries, their tactics for persuasion were probably very direct and unsubtle. By the 1970s the missionaries had gone off to annoy someone else and a righteous anti-colonialism spirit was arising. Nanggol is now seen as a way to demonstrate and reinforce cultural identity.

I moved to the other side of the seating area to get a better view. Each successive jumper was getting older, more experienced and higher up the tower. Each successive jump was more serious. Finally, we got to the very last jump. Right from the highest point of the tower. It was impressive. A long, long way to fall. Must take nerves of steel and the confidence of conviction in the tower, the vines and all the preparation. After a wave at the crowd, he clasped his hands across his chest, leant forward and pitched headfirst off the platform. It really was a long way to fall. I had time for several photographs as he plunged towards the ground. The was a snap from the platform and then the whole tower whipped forwards. He touched the ground and then was pulled into the soft soil below the tower. A perfect jump.

You may have noticed a similarity between nanggol and bungee jumping. The first modern bungee jumps were made in 1979 from the 76 m Clifton Suspension Bridge in Bristol. The students, Kirke and Keeling of the Oxford University Dangerous Sports Club, came up with the idea after discussing the “vine jumping” ritual of Vanuatu. Organised commercial bungee jumping began with the New Zealander, Hackett, who made his first jump from Auckland’s Greenhithe Bridge in 1986. Since then, bungee jumping has become a world-wide, lucrative business. The cultural appropriation has never been recognised or compensated for. In 1995, the people of Pentecost Island, with the support of Vanuatu’s attorney-general declared that they would endeavour to get royalties from bungee jumping enterprises because they viewed the tradition as stolen. I have no idea whether anything ever came of this.

With that we were done. The jumping had taken all afternoon. Everyone made their way back to the beach. The sun was starting to set as we headed back to the ship.

Hypnotic rhythms and deadly volcanoes

Another sea day and we have arrived at the Vanuatu island of Ambrym. The island is roughly triangular. 50 km wide. The centre of the land mass is dominated by a 12 km wide caldera containing two lava lakes. The caldera was formed around AD 50 by one of the largest volcanic explosions in recent geological history. Several times a century, Ambrym volcano has destructive eruptions. It is one of the most active volcanoes in the world. The island is also a particularly important bird conservation area. There are many rare, special and endemic bird species here. This all sounded extremely exciting and interesting. As we approached, I was scanning the volcanic cone for signs of smoke or other activity.

We went ashore to watch the locals perform a dance.

The Rom Dance of Ambrym is a sacred, ancient ceremony performed by men in elaborate banana-leaf costumes. The tall, conical masks represent ancestral spirits. They become the ancestors and must be burned afterwards because they contain the powerful spirits of the dead. Ambrym is considered to be the black magic epicentre of Vanuatu. This dance is a ritual that tells stories of good versus evil and is traditionally connected to yam harvests and initiation rites, such as circumcision. The ceremony honours ancestors and wards off evil spirits. The dancers are completely covered in banana leaves and wear brightly painted masks. It is a pulsating, hypnotic dance using highly repetitive drum rhythms.

Off to one side were a group of women dancers. The Rom dance is men only. It is fierce and war like. However, since we were also being welcomed to the village, the women were dancing their own thing underneath a large tree.

Tamtam drums are massive wooden slit drums. Made from a hollowed-out hardwood tree trunk with sealed ends and a longitudinal slit. They are struck with a short, solid drumstick. Technically, these are not drums because they lack a membrane stretched across the top. They are idiophones, where the entire instrument vibrates. On most islands of Vanuatu, the drum has little to no decoration. It is played horizontally on the ground. On Ambrym the drums are set vertically into the ground. They are decorated with faces representing ancestral figures. The distinctive shape of these large eyed figures has become iconic of Vanuatu as a whole and is represented on their banknotes.

The ceremony is considered a profound and rare experience, often regarded as one of the most significant traditional performances in Melanesia. Not quite volcanoes and rare birds but sometimes you just need to make the best of what is available.

We were arranged around the edge of a performance area where we sat on rough benches. It took the best part of an hour for everyone to be ferried ashore and helped up the short walk to the arena. Eventually, we were all ready and then the drums started. I quite liked the monotonous rhythm of the drums. The dancers very slowly danced their way into the arena. Village chiefs, wearing almost nothing, formed a group in the centre. Costumed and masked dancers surrounded them. Everybody was swaying to the incessant beat of the drums and stomping their feet. The ground vibrated with the rhythms.

The dance went on for a long time. It went through several phases but I have no idea of the meaning of each section. Eventually, the dance finished and we were invited to photograph the dancers and the chiefs. However, we were given a strict warning to avoid touching the dancers, the masks, the costumes or the drums. In fact, we were not even to get too close to them. The dance had awakened ancient spirits that were now in the costumes and masks. Extremely dangerous. As soon as the photographs were finished the dancers slipped away. Even before we had walked back down to the beach, the dancers were busy burning the costumes, masks and everything. The big drums are not burnt but they are treated with respect and nobody touches them until the next dance.

On the beach was a small band playing cheerful music. A few vendors were selling local craft items. Fruit and coconuts were being handed out for refreshments. We ate some pomelo. A large grapefruit like citrus fruit. Extremely sweet, juicy and with a fantastic taste. We see them in the UK supermarkets occasionally. Unfortunately, by the time they have arrived in Todmorden, they are a dried up, tasteless, sad reflection of the real thing.

We headed back to the ship for lunch. Diane had found two small children that she wanted to adopt. Unfortunately, they were not allowed onto the zodiac because they did not have lifejackets.

After lunch, I heard on the radio that three tourists had tragically died on an Indonesian volcano when it erupted. They were part of a group that, ignoring local advice, were hiking in a restricted area close to the crater rim. The eruption was expected. It had been building for days. The locals were anticipating that it would be a big one and it was. Many people were rescued from around the volcano. It seems likely that others are missing. They sneak into an area that has been closed because it is dangerous. They do not tell anyone where they are going with their drones and cameras. It can be difficult to account for them later.

Fascinating fish, intriguing coral and hidden venom

Next day was the end of another leg. We hauled in at Lautoka, Fiji’s second largest city. The morning was spent getting one set of passengers off the ship. In the afternoon, a different set of passengers was embarked. Meanwhile, those of us that were continuing the voyage, the in transit passengers, were sent off on a trip to get us out of the way. It was not a great trip. We have done some coach trips that set the bar low and this one was right down there. We were driven to a marina. Given some fruit. Shown how to open a coconut. Driven to a shop and finally brought back to the ship. This was stretched over nearly four hours. The shop, a multi-floor upmarket emporium, was aimed exclusively at tourists to the extent that prices were all in US dollars.

Now the ship was full of strangers again. We spent much of the afternoon doing safety drills, listening to safety briefings and generally being bombarded with information that we had already received twice before. Outside, big black stormy clouds were brewing. Rainy squalls were all around us.

Next morning we were intending a landing at another small Fijian village called Nabukeru. This time the weather was against us. For the most part, we have been remarkably lucky with the weather on this trip. Today it did not work out for Nabukeru. The swell and wind were just a bit too much. We repositioned to an alternative landing site on the north coast but this was deemed to be just as bad. A group of locals, meanwhile, had come out in their small boat to see what we were messing around at. They were bouncing around in their small white boat without any care for the sea state or wind. They shouted “Bula” to us in loud, cheerful voices. This is the Fijian greeting. Often delivered as an explosive shout with wide open arms. All to no avail though. We waved them goodbye and headed all the way back to our landing site of two days previously close to the village of Yasawairara. Here there was better shelter from the land and we could finally put the zodiacs out.

The rest of the day was just about hanging around the beach and the village. For Diane and I, it meant two more snorkelling trips. While many others were lying on the beach or buying souvenirs in the village, we were in the water.

The visibility had improved a little. This helped with the photography. I had found a setting to do with focusing. This helped as well. Unfortunately, I also managed to put the camera in a low-resolution jpeg mode. This did not help. Once you are in the water, it is a bit late to start messing with settings. It is difficult to see well enough for this, so I just tend to assume (hope) everything is set correctly and off we go. Since then I have been studying the manual some more. Partly to help get the right setup but also to find a way to lock everything so that I cannot inadvertently mess it all up when I jump I the water.

My ability to identify fish is still woefully inadequate. Like with bird identification, Google helps a lot. There are also some fish experts on the ship. One thing I have learned, is to not touch things underwater. There are many reasons for this. Much of the coral is quite fragile and also has sharp edges. Possibly worse than this however, are the wide variety of poisonous creatures. The Lined Surgeon fish looks very nice. Bright colours. Easy to spot. Very photogenic. But possesses sharp, venomous spines, or “scalpels,” located on both sides of its tail base for defence against predators.

There was a wide variety of fish on the reef. And a wide variety of corals. I know even less about corals than fish. Corals, somewhat surprisingly, are animals. Although they look like plants or rocks and are sessile (fixed in one spot), they are, in fact, animals. Individual corals have a stomach, mouth and tentacles used for capturing food and defending themselves. They also have a symbiotic relationship with algae. The algae live in the tissue of the polyps and provide oxygen and food (glucose, glycerol, amino acids) through photosynthesis. This process also gives the coral its vivid colours. Over thousands of years, the calcium carbonate skeletons of the coral polyps build up to form reefs. Some of which are enormous.

I saw several schools of yellowfin goatfish. During the day, they often form large, inactive schools for protection. This is great. They stay still so that you can photograph them.

Chevron butterflyfish are very pretty. They feed almost exclusively on the polyps and mucus of the corals.

Surgeonfish are generally herbivores that consume turf algae. They are often found grazing on coral and rocks.

Doublebar Goatfish have a big spot around their eye – making them look like they have big eyes.

A school of Indian Mackerel swept in. These are strange looking fish. They are a reasonable size (20 – 30 cm) and were swimming in a school of 30 or more. They were moving fast and my first impression was that they had plastic bags on their heads. On closer inspection, they were swimming with their mouths open. These fish are ram feeders. They swim with their mouths wide open to strain plankton and macroplankton from the water using their gill rakers.

Lying on a patterned section of coral was a lizardfish. These are ambush predatory feeders. Normally they camouflage themselves against the sea floor. This one apparently did not realise that on the regularly patterned coral, it stood out like a sore thumb.

Finally, there was a sabre squirrelfish. These are nocturnal and this particular one was hiding in a hole. I waited patiently for it to come out. Good job I did not reach in for it. They have small spines that secrete venom for protection. While not deadly to humans, their stings can be painful. Do not touch things underwater.

Cultural presentations, fish and the danger of being keel hauled

Lomaloma is a small village on Fijian island of Vanua Balavu. We arrived there just after lunch and got ferried ashore by zodiac. A tour of the village consisted of walking down the small main road to the post office. Then we looked at the church, the hospital and the school and came back for the cultural presentation. I often find these presentations a little tricky. This one began with sharing Kava. A few of the onlookers were singled out to sit cross-legged and drink out of the coconut cup. Kava is a mildly psychoactive local drink used as a welcoming ceremony. Next the children were pushed in front of us. Along with a begging bowl. The children were made to sing a song while the Americans donated money via the begging bowl. Diane and I headed back to the ship fairly soon after this and then I received a call.

I am in trouble. I am on the naughty step. I am standing outside the headmaster’s study. I have been summoned by Guest Services to the Hotel Manager’s office. The Hotel Manager is tall with white hair and is clearly a wizard. The assistant captain is also there. He is young, small and sports a prominent ginger beard. I don’t know his name. In my mind, he is Gloin Redbeard. Gandalf rather cryptically tells me this is not about yesterday’s incident. So why am I here? The incident has been reported and logged. Someone’s version has been logged. Gloin reads me the rules concerning zodiac operations and the importance of holding hands. I wholeheartedly agree while wondering if the crew member received a reminder to let go of guest’s arms. We all shake hands and I am allowed to leave. I still don’t know if the offence was that I arrived in the boat with someone still attached to my arm, or calling them a dollop, or both. But I am free. I have escaped keel hauling, flogging, walking the plank or being turned into a newt. Time for a celebratory drink.

Next day, we were moored off from the wonderfully named Yasawairara, another small Fijian island village. Yet again, we were all invited ashore for a walking tour and a cultural presentation. This time it went much better. Straight out of the zodiac, I met an island chief called Prince Philip. He shared with me a large cup of Kava. It made my tongue slightly numb and tingly. The walk around the village was slightly more interesting. There were some goats on a rock. We skipped the dancing part of the presentation and went snorkelling.

The expedition team had set up two zodiacs. We could snorkel between them by following a reef wall. This was up to 10 m deep and included a wide range of different types of coral.

The water was often a lot deeper than we had experienced before. This was fun but made photography difficult. Visibility was not so good either. Photographing fish is not so straightforward. I am used to looking at a scene through a viewfinder. Now I need to watch a small screen on the back of a camera, through goggles that are typically a bit misted up. Fish are twitchy, nervous things that vanish at the slightest movement. I end up stalking them. Hanging motionless in the water in the hope that they will ignore me and get on with their fishy lives.

I am also having to learn how to use a new camera. Like most cameras, this has a myriad of complex settings. It does not seem very practical to start messing with the camera controls in the water. I spend some time reading the manual. Then try fiddling with a few settings. Jump into the water and see what happens. Fortunately, we have quite a few more opportunities for snorkelling on this trip. Hopefully, this will be enough for me to get the hang of it.

Campbell Island

Campbell Island has the distinction of being the closest land to the antipodal point of the UK. The antipode of any location on the planet is the point on the globes surface diametrically opposite to it. Points that are antipodal to each other are situated such that a straight line connecting the two would pass through Earth’s centre. In other words, we are as far away from home as it is possible to get.

Far from home and in trouble. Our cabin came up on the naughty list today, so we had to go and clean our boots. Yesterday there was a general discussion on biosecurity. The issue, the problem, is cross contamination by non-native species to the sub-Antarctic islands. Back in the day it was common to introduce new species in the hope of improving things. Pigs to help castaways, plants that might grow better, that sort of thing. There was also truly little control over the accidental introduction of foreign organisms. Rats came ashore off ships. Cats were brought to control the rats. Food stuffs contained seeds which got into the local environment and so on. Unfortunately, some of these foreigners became invasive and changed the ecological balance of a whole island. Rodents could wipe out entire bird species. The avians had never dealt with mammalian predators before and were devoid of defences. Similarly, some plant species could end up displacing local, more specialised varieties. Rabbits could munch particular and rare types of vegetation into extinction. These are all valid and real concerns. The basic approach, to ensure that no cross-contamination occurs is valid. However, there is this pendulum thing again and I do wonder if some people go a bit overboard. The end of the talk explained how we could use an opened paper clip to pick the grains of sand out from the label on our boots. We were also told about a spider. This had been spotted in a corridor. It was now safely caught, identified, boxed and packed into a freezer for return to New Zealand.

Biosecurity requires that we cannot go to the toilet when we go ashore. Because a shore trip can last three or four hours this means getting yourself into a state of dehydration before you leave the ship. Half rations on the coffee at breakfast and no orange juice. Today we went for a walk up a hill. A little over 7 km up a steady slope and then back again. The weather was wet and windy. Gusting 30 knots near the top. This would have been a steady morning stroll with a flask of tea and some biscuits to have at the summit. But no food allowed. At all. Nothing. No tea. You can take some water but if you drink it then your bladder will have to suffer the consequences until you get back to the ship. It was quite a nice walk and I mostly enjoyed it. We passed several nesting albatrosses and there were some interesting views when the clouds briefly lifted. Diane found it very challenging. You are not allowed to sit down. Not even any kneeling. A few breaks, being properly hydrated and some chocolate would have made all the difference. There was a bench at the top where we had a brief respite. The wind picked up some more and the guides appeared to get into a bit of a panic. They started clucking a lot. We all had to group together. We should stop and squat down (without sitting or kneeling) if there was a strong gust. There was quite a lot of shouting, unnecessary organising and general confusion. Fortunately, as we dropped down the hillside, the wind dropped and things calmed down a bit. There was an incident with someone trying to take a selfie with an albatross on a nest and that did, quite rightly, end in a bit of a ticking off.

Getting back to the ship was a big relief in many ways.

Enderby Island

This morning the expedition team announced and posted their first naughty list. The night before, they had been round the lockers in the mud room checking everybody’s muck boots. If they were not clean enough, you were put on the naughty list. Anyone on this wall of shame needed to go down to the mud room and scrub their boots before breakfast. Fortunately, Diane and I escaped the dawn punishment and we could have a peaceful breakfast.

Enderby Island is the most northerly of the Auckland archipelago. The island’s northernmost point is Derry Castle Reef, named after the ship which foundered there in 1887. The sole passenger and 7 of the 23 crew made it ashore at Sandy Bay. They found a castaway depot but it had been looted. After 92 days they discovered an axe head in the sand and were able to build a boat from the wreckage. With this they could reach a second depot at Port Ross. Here they survived for a couple more months before finally getting rescued.

They may have dined, at least some of the time, on rabbit. The animals had been introduced to the island 20 years earlier specifically for this purpose. It was a common practise. Elsewhere, pigs, sheep and even cattle had been left on islands for the benefit of shipwrecked sailor. The Enderby rabbits were there for 130 years by which time they could be classified as a distinct species. The rabbits were eradicated from the island in the early 1990s. A few were rescued and the breed still survives in captivity.

We also went ashore at Sandy Bay. There are a few researchers huts here and also quite a lot of sea lions. The males can be a little territorial and not so welcoming to tourists. We didn’t have any trouble but there was an interesting stand-off with one of the expedition team when another group came ashore. Elsewhere there were groups of female sea lions lying around. Also, young pups playing with each other. Like most pups, these can be quite fun to watch.

We tip-toed round the various groups of sea lions and then could follow a walkway up the hillside a short way. This gave us a nice view and also took us past a few nesting albatrosses. These were Royal Albatrosses. Big birds with a wingspan of over 3 m.

Coming back down, we needed to circumvent another large sea lion male which had set up on the path. “Don’t stop, don’t take photographs and avoid eye contact” we were instructed. Some of the expedition crew get quite domineering and like to order the rest of us around like we were school children. Occasionally this is irritating but mostly I find it faintly amusing. I ended up reflecting on the notion that for well over 200 years it had been perfectly acceptable to club to death anything that looked like a seal. Now, we were being told to not even look at them. Behavioural pendulums swinging between extremes.

Back on the beach we spotted a yellow eyed penguin. These are endangered and quite rare. I took a photograph. It is not a very good photograph but I do at least have a picture of a yellow-eyed penguin.

Snares Island

First day on a new ship is often all about finding things. We had never been on this vessel before or with this company. We knew nothing about how things were done or where they were done. The night before we had found our cabin, always a good start. Also found the restaurant so today we knew where to go for breakfast. There was a man there making omelettes. Not quite a masala omelette but pretty good and with a few chilli flakes on top I felt off to a good start. Coffee, yoghurt, fruit, toast. Grilled tomatoes and hash browns to go with the omelettes. We were going to survive. At least until lunchtime.

We were issued with muck boots. Big, warm, waterproof neoprene boots for going ashore. These are kept in a locker room on deck 3 which is called the mud room. I am not sure why. Our life jackets to use in the Zodiacs are also kept there. I thought that was going to be about our lot for the day’s excitement. On the itinerary, it was designated a sea day. Instead, mid-afternoon, we arrived at Snares Island. I thought this was a much better idea that bobbing around in the ocean. As we approached, there were many birds circling the ship. In particular, some albatrosses. I spent a while trying to photograph them. They are large but move fast. Also, the ship is moving. If you concentrate on the view finder too much you are liable to lose your balance and fall over.

There are about eighty passengers on the ship. Not very many but even so, if everyone is invited to the mud room at the same time to don boots and lifejackets, it gets a bit chaotic. Aurora could take some notes from the other expedition ships we have been on. We eventually got our boots and life jackets on but then we did not know where to go. First, we were queuing on one side of the ship, then the other, then we were waiting, then it was cancelled and ten minutes later it was back on again. We kept smiling and hoped the crew’s organisational abilities would improve once they had got over the teething problems.

The sea state was marginal. It was not particularly windy but there was a good swell running. Getting in and out of the zodiacs requires careful timing. They rise up and down well over a metre compared to the ship. The trick is to wait until the RHIB is on the top of the swell and then step purposefully across the gap. It is not as difficult as it sounds. For me the bigger problem was all the crew members grabbing at my arms and shouting advice. Somehow, we all manged to get into the boats and set off for a look round.

The smaller zodiacs could get into the lee of some islands and small inlets. So, once we were away from the Douglas Mawson, everything seemed to settle down a bit and we could get on with looking at the flora and fauna. The Snares Islands are a group of uninhabited islands lying about 200 km south of New Zealand. They are significant as a bird breeding area and have several endemic species, notably the Snares Penguin and the Snares Tomtit. The islands are heavily protected and generally it is not allowed to land on them. Having a look round in a small boat is fine.

Our trip began with a cave. This was fun and unexpected. It also brought us to a very calm little cove which was teeming with wildlife. We saw plenty of the yellow crested Snares Penguins. We also saw a tomtit which I failed to photograph. However, I was luckier with a Snares Snipe. There were quite a few fur seals lying around and a bewildering variety of sea birds. We came across a great mass of birds floating together in the sea. I can only assume that there was something plentiful and good to eat here.

We were out in the boat for well over an hour. There was far less chaos about getting back on board and then it was dinner time. In summary, a good start to the voyage.

Leaving Dunedin

Monday morning. We were ready to set sail but the ship was not ready for us. Our ship, the Douglas Mawson, had docked early in the morning and disembarked her passengers. However, there were many things to do, like cleaning the cabins, before we could be allowed on board. The company that owns the ship, Aurora, put in place a program of activities for the day to keep us distracted. This began with telling us to go away and come back to the hotel at lunchtime.

We wandered down to the Chinese Gardens. For a modest fee you can wander around this small, tranquil garden. It backs onto the railway track and is surrounded by city buildings. High walls keep most of this urban pressure out and a lovely pond area draws your attention inward. Were I stuck in Dunedin again, I don’t think I would go out of my way to visit these gardens but we had a couple of hours to kill so it was fine.

Back at the hotel we joined a group for an hour’s walking tour. This was all about the street art. Dunedin has a bit of a reputation for painted walls. There is some graffiti but most of the paintings have been commissioned by the city. Some of the pieces, up to a decade old, are getting a bit tatty around the edges now. Our guide was very enthusiastic about the plethora of murals we were shown. I didn’t share his engagement but it did pass another hour.

Next up was a bus ride. We all piled into a coach and were driven around the outskirts of Dunedin. Eventually we rocked up at the ineffably famous Baldwin Street. This road is officially recognized by Guinness World Records as the world’s steepest residential street. 19°, 35% or 1:2.78 depending on how you like to measure these things. It is 350 m long and, apart from being steep, is very ordinary. I declined the invitation to walk to one end of it. Instead, we stayed on the coach. As did many other people. We reflected that we had paid a lot of money for the Antarctic trip of a lifetime and were being shown a steep road.

Then came the Dunedin Botanic Garden. This at least gave us the chance to use a toilet. Baldwin Street may be famous but it is not sufficiently in the limelight as to have public toilets yet. At the botanic gardens, the toilets were broken, apart from one. Queuing passed some more time and then we had a comfortable stroll around the gardens. We found a winter garden, a heated Edwardian glass house, a rose garden and a herb garden. Eventually we found ourselves sitting by a duck pond seriously wondering if we should buy some duck food. Instead, we took a slow walk back to the coach and I ended up taking photographs of flowers, again.

The coach took us to a look-out point where a bust of Admiral Bird stares vacantly southward. From here we could see our ship. It was small and distant. There was a bit more driving around to show us something or other. I managed to doze through this part. Then we were finally taken to the ship. We had to queue outside to have our photograph taken. Then came passport control followed by registration. Finally, we were welcomed on board with a small sandwich and a glass of fruit juice.

Less than an hour later, we cast off. Dunedin is at the end of a long bay. It takes an hour or so to reach the entrance of the bay and open water. On the way, we did our obligatory emergency drills. I saw a cormorant on a sign post. We waved at some girls doing some rowing. I waved at a guy on a tanker as we passed the start of the deep-water channel but he remained enigmatic. The sun began to set. The pilot disembarked. An event always worth watching. We passed out of the sheltered bay and turned south towards Antarctica.